#i also made her look less like a fucking toddler. she is not a baby she is FIVE HUNDRED

[infinite-intimidator]

dont really play genshin anymore, but sumeru's always bugged me ESPECIALLY nahida, so im taking a crack at redesigning her =)

[queenimmadolla]

NEED MORE PENNY AND DAD!EDDIE ITS SO CUTE

yeah, this little family kind of owns my ass now so i’m glad you love them! and thank you for being my first request, i literally dropped everything i was doing cause i wanted to get this out tonight! sorry if the formatting is shit, posting on mobile is weird for me. will tweak any mistakes tomorrow!

Look Who’s Talking

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: eddie takes his three year old shopping. obviously, cuteness ensues. **sequel to Penny for Your Thoughts**

warnings: none, i think. oh, except PREGNANCY WHAAAAT.

gif by corrodedcoffins

“We’re gonna get you some cool new threads, pretty girl. I’m thinking slacks.”

The look Penny gave him made him snicker, her eyebrows furrowed together as she eyed him like she regretted not being able to opt out of this. Sure, she had no idea what slacks were, but clearly she was not fond of the word.

Penny was in need of some new clothes, the now three year old was beginning to outgrow most of her wardrobe. She even had little high waters, and that made his eyes water. His baby was growing, and he didn’t like it one bit.

Normally, shopping was a family activity but you were incredibly irritable lately and Eddie figured you could use some alone time to relax. You hadn’t protested too hard when he offered to take Penny to pick out a couple of new toddler ‘fits. Now that she didn’t demand a nipple every once in a while, it was easier to take Penny places with him.

Like the outdoor shopping center, a recent addition to Hawkins.

“Can we get snacks, too?” Came her cute little voice as he unbuckled her from her carseat.

She’d always been a bit of babbler from the moment she started trying to communicate, was speaking a couple of broken phrases here and there a little after she had turned two but it wasn’t until after her third birthday that she figured words out. Like really well. Scarily, well.

Penny went from baby talk and referring to herself in third person to asking him if he could sit down with her on his lap so she could tell him about how ‘tiwed in the hawt’—she still had trouble with her ‘r’s—she’d get when she spends her day making a city with her building blocks before her bedtime only to wake up and find the city back in her toy box. All her hard work gone.

From just ‘Daddy, no eat Penny’s toes! Penny’s toes not fo’ eatin’ to ‘Daddy, why awe you twying to eat my feets foe? Thewa not vewy yummy, not wike ‘spetti.’, all within the span of less than a year. Broke and warmed his heart. She immediately clung to him like a baby koala as he pulled her entirely out of the van and shut the door, letting her dad press a multitude of kisses into her still baby fat filled cheeks. “Yeah, we’ll grab something on the way out.”

“You got a big nose, daddy.” She also had no filter, something you both had to be incredibly cautious about because it wasn’t a matter of if she would repeat something. It was when. And Penny had already told Wayne how ‘fuckin ‘cited’ she was with her approaching promotion.

Eddie smirked at the memory of last Christmas and the way you’d immediately disappeared into the kitchen—because it had totally been you that fucked up—as he made his way to the kids clothing store you bought most of Penny’s clothes from. The bell above the door sounded as they entered, and Eddie crouched down to set Penny on her legs.

He loved holding her, but he wanted to get her comfortable with walking around in public, and a confined setting—while she had a lot more of her impulses under control, the need to immediately run free and wild when her parents put her down in most settings was still hard for her to ignore—such as a store was the perfect opportunity. He just couldn’t take his eyes off of her or he’d have a heart attack.

“Alright, lucky Penny. What colors are we thinking about for your fall wardrobe?” He asked, pulling something tan and fluffy off of a rack for her to inspect.

She reached a little hand up to scratch at her head, fingers gripping the curls for a moment as she tried to figure out a way to convey to her daddy that what he was holding up was very ugly.

“Uhm, I dunno. Not that. Maybe Gween? I wike gween, and yellow. And pink. Owange is a hawd colow, huh daddy?” He had no idea what she meant by that, but he agreed nonetheless. His baby was always right.

Eddie put the ugly article of clothing back, letting Penny wander around to whatever caught her eye.

Except, she just kept walking, didn’t even bother looking at anything. “What about this one?” He asked, pulling a random little green sweater out for her in an attempt to catch her attention. Before he could even get a good look at it, she was letting out the most dramatic of little screams.

“DUCK! WOOK! WOOK, DADDY! ’S A DUCKIE!” She pointed at the embellishment on the front of the sweater, and sure enough, it was a duck. And not even a cute little cartoon one, it was an embellishment of an actual duck. Eddie knew it was her latest obsession, along with city construction, but he hadn’t realized the form of it didn’t matter to her.

“Alright, we found our first pick.” He double checked to make sure it was the right size before letting her hold onto it. The way she cradled it to her chest, mumbling gibberish to it reminded him a lot of Gollum. Two minutes later she got tired of holding it, so it ended up thrown over his shoulder.A blue blouse, a pair of pink overalls, pink sweats, pink pants, three pairs of little jeans, an orange sweater, two care bears shirts, three packs of socks—those she wanted to hold, cradling them like babies despite the fact that Eddie knew how much she hated socks—and the green duck sweater later, Eddie was pretty satisfied with their little shopping haul.

Penny had kept up a continuous stream of commentary ranging from her opinions on the selections to fleeting thoughts she had a couple of ‘yestertimes’ ago with absolutely no relation to their bonding time, but it was still endearing to Eddie. Everything she did, was. Eddie absolutely adored how random she was. She’d be going on and on about how ducks aren’t scary like chickens, how you promised her you’d protect her from them forever, then she’d remember he existed or something because she’d turn around and hug his leg—and she put her all into hugs—giving his jeans a kiss before looking up at him with those big, beautiful brown eyes. His eyes looking up at him through a face so similar to yours.

Fuck, you guys made a whole, perfect little human together. That’s all the proof he needs to know magic is real.

“I wuvs you, daddy.”

His heart wouldn’t ever not melt for her.

“I love you, too, baby.” He choked out through the emotions making his throat feel tight. “Daddy loves you so much.”

“Yes.” Is all she said, leaning up on his leg for a few moments before she was off again. Eddie followed immediately after her, eyebrows pinching together in confusion for a moment. Something didn’t feel right. Something was missing.

“Penny.”

“Yes?” She responded, curls bouncing as she felt the need to start trying her hardest to hop along instead of walk.

“Where are the socks?”

“Yes.”

After they’d double backed around the store and found the pack of socks—Eddie only needed to watch her glance nervously at a certain shoe box a couple of times—he figured it was check out time.

So did the woman who rang them up, only it wasn’t just the clothes she was checking out, her blue eyes raked over his frame with lust clouded eyes.

“She yours?” The blonde asked, folding all the little articles of clothing before placing them into a bag.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s response was bleak, doing his best to mask his annoyance. He had gotten used to being hit on when it was just him and Penny, but it didn’t mean that he liked it. The thought of any women thinking they could take your place—whether they know you existed or not—in his and Penny’s lives made his blood boil.

“Figured. She’s cute. Must have got it from you.” And he really hated it when they did it right in hearing range of his daughter.

He glanced down at your little mini me, relieved to see her distracted by something in the display case that was eye level with her.

“She looks more like her mom,” Eddie took great satisfaction in seeing how red with embarrassment her face got. Served her fucking right, hitting on guys with babies with no knowledge of whether or not they’re going home to someone.

“O-Oh, she must be really beautiful then.” She didn’t look back up at him as she rang him up, and before Eddie could hand her the money, a chubby little hand started tapping at the glass display.

Eddie popped down in a squat to Penny’s height, mouth breaking out into a wide grin when he realized exactly what it was Penny had decided she wanted.

Oh, you were gonna lose your shit.

“Honey, we’re home!” Eddie announced as he unlocked the front door, the bag of clothes in one hand, and Penny in the other arm.At the sound of their arrival, you put the ice cream you’d been eating straight out of the carton back into the freezer and made your way towards the living room to greet them.

The overwhelming amount of cuteness stopped you short.“Oh my god.”

Eddie had his sunglasses on. Paired with the dark long sleeve and his leather jacket, it was a dangerous combo. You would have jumped his bones if it weren’t for the real attention grabber in his arms.

“Imma medohead, mama!”

Penny’s curls were significantly more wild when compared to how they were before the two of them had left, she had what looked like cinnamon smeared around her mouth and all over her pink ‘Girl Power’ shirt. But it was the mini pair of sunglasses on her face that did you in.

Identical to her dad’s.

They were fucking matching.

If you weren’t already waiting for the current bun in your oven to be ready, you would’ve been setting it to preheat for tonight.

But wait, there’s more.

Eddie leaned forward to give you a thorough—but kid-viewing friendly—kiss before he pulled out another small pair from the pocket of his jacket.

“For whenever our little guy decides to make his entrance.”

May whatever God is around help you.

“Don’t move, I gotta get the camera.”

[w1shb0n3z]

Chilchuck girldad shenanigans!!! +Senshi's thoughts on mlp at the very end

(Brace yourself. This is a long one)

What's Chilchuck's favorite girldad activity? It's not doing their hair, no. That's just something he's been praised on. Being able to put his girls hair up in different styles whenever his wife wasn't around was seen as very admirable and lots of people complemented him on it. Especially non-half-foots (becuase they seem to think the father is less involved in the kids life LMAO) And though his daughters loved when their dad did their hair, they much proffered when their mom did it since it was neater

Chilchuck's favorite girldad activity (well, general girldad activity) is actually playing pretend. He seems like the type to just playfully scoff at kids he sees engaging in an outrageous, glorified LARPing session. And he is. He is that type. He thinks it's playing pretend is silly. But, when it comes to his daughters, it's charming.

He found some genuine entertainment when he was making believe with his little ones while they were young. Fully immersed in the ever complicated plot and nonsensical characters, he loved seeing the spark in their eyes and the giggle in their voices as they played out their fantasies. He'd also like to be dense from time to time just for the reaction it got. Saying things like "but bears can't fly" or "I thought you said princesses couldn't swim" be uase there's something very humorous about being scolded by a toddler

Once the girls got older, though, his favorite activities became specific to the kid.

For Meijack, his mini-me, it was teaching her his craft. For Flertom, the one that looks just like her mother, it was makeovers. And with Puckpatti, his bright-eyed youngest, it was shopping.

A little more of Meijack

She had taken an interest in locksmithing when she was young; so much so that she would often swipe a spare lock when her dad wasn't looking. Mei had proven herself to he a very crafty and tactile person. After about the 15th time, Chilchuck was tired of this and decided to improvise.

He took a nice square wooden board, sanded it down to make sure no mishaps would occur, and then attached some latches, locks, and other miscellaneous things to it. He essentially made a busy board for Mei, and she loved it. She would often be found in her room, buckling and unbluckling, messing with straps and zippers and locks and ties.

He'd make her a new board each year on her birthday; that is, until she turned 5. After that, she got puzzle boxes, and each year, they'd get more and more complex. If they were invented at the time, Mei would totally fuck up a Rubix cube on the low.

Expanding a bit on Flertom

After finding baby Fler with a face smeared with her mom's ruby red lipstick, Chilchuck knew he had a future full of make-up modeling. So following that incident, he bought Fler her own little make-up kit.

Initially, little Fler was satisfied just beautifying her own face, then showing it off to her dad; however, she did start feel like good old papa Chuck was missing out on the fun, so she pressured him into letting her put some eyeshadow on him. It was bright blue, it was messy, and it was awful to apply.

After a year or two, the make-overs got better and better. 10 year old Fler was becoming quite talented with her cosmetic skills. She'd gone from doing outlandish looks on her dad to actually finding styles that fit him and testing out new ideas on him.

What about Puckpatti?

Now I did say that Puckpatti's designated activity was shopping, but what I meant to say was haggling down prices and looking for deals. Ever since she was young, the adorable, unassuming half-foot had a knack for bargaining— even while trading toys in the playground or snacks in the lunchroom.

Chilchuck first noticed Patti's gift after she came home from school with a necklace on. ...She certainly didn't come to school with it, so it's safe to say Chilchuck was confused. Once he found out what actually happened, he did get Patri to return the necklace and focused her abilities to learning how to shop efficiently.

Patti truly did enjoy shopping with her dad. And kn occasoik they would go to different shopping centers together. Chilchuck would always get discounted tools, courtesy of Patti, and Patti would find a pair of shoes or some fruit and nealry cut the price in half. They go wandering place to place, talking and spotting the best deals, It's always a fun and productive time!

Now to Senshi

If you've made it this far, congrats! Here's your reward

Either in a modern AU, or just due some crazy magical force, Senshi finds out about MLP.

Now, would he watch this on his own? Nope. A colorful show about ponies doesn't catch his eye, so sorry.

But let's just say he ends up watching MLP. (Moslty because in this scenario, Marcille had mentioned liking the show and senshi heard it was about horses- or well, ponies)

After whatching a few episodes he's come to a few conclusions and has gained a couple of opinions.

Who's his favorite character? Big Mac

Who's his least favorite characters? Diamond Tiara, Silverspoon, Gilda, Rainbowdash, and Rarity

He does NOT fw the them.

His opinions on the mane 6 + a few more

Twilight: very uptight, but has the potential to be a leader of some kind. Not a personal favorite

Fluttershy: Thinks she needs some guidance and to grow a backbone, but is very impressed witb her connection to the fuana

Rarity: Does NOT like her. Thinks she's spoiled and prissy and snippy

Applejack: Likes her! Think she's nice and hard working and well rounded

Rainbowdash: Think she does wayyy to much. Someone needs to teach her not to be so full of herself. He legitimately didn't want to watch some of the episodes because he felt like rainbowdash was just being an ass (some with Rarity)

Pinkie pie: Too hyper for his taste. Thinks she's pretty odd

Spike: he finds the idea of keeping a small dragon as a...well, a little brother figure, to be odd. He doesn't get the fact that Spike has a crush on Rarity and thinks that the gang should treat him with more respect

Zecora: Another character he actually likes. The episode introducing her frustrated him a LOT, he actually haf to pause it becuase all that pony racism was too much for him

Luna/Nightmare Moon: He's iffy about her. Ay first, he didn't have too much of an opinion on her, but once he figured out her deal, he liked her a little. He doesn't blame her for turning evil at all

Celestia: Thinks she's USELESS. Oh my god. He's confused because she seems like she should be a queen and not a princess, but based on what she sees her do, he isn't surprised that her status is princess

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

explanations under the cut

Elizabeth Afton is actually the Youngest Sibling - as @birdsareblooming pointed out, when we see her room in fnaf4, she has a torn-apart mangle toy. mangle was stated to be made to entertain toddlers. would also explain why she's not in the gameplay, she's at daycare/with her mom

The Vengeful Spirit is Michael Afton - another one where cori convinced me and I might have an entire essay that I will publish after I finally sit down and edit through the Security Logbook section but until then here's a bullet point post

Mimic = Burntrap - i dont think i have to explain this we're all talking about it i just know people are gonna be mad at me for it

The Girl in Drowning is representative of Charlie, not Cassidy - She's literally got gray skin, black hair, gray clothes, and neon green lighting, much like a certain gray-skinned black-haired pixel girl with a green bracelet who died in the rain (water motif). Her dragging Kara down because she doesn't want to be alone could be seen as a metaphor for Charlie trying to give life but instead kinda sticking them all in robots

FNAF AR had some BANGIN re-skins - come on. look at them. Clockwork Ballora? Bangin. Broiler Baby? Bangin. Catrina Toy Chica? BANGIN. Springtrap as an actual fucking clown???? BANGIN.

Vanessa is an Afton in the Gameverse, too – Cori's workin on a whole explanation diagram for this but the most BASIC evidence is "her last name starts with 'a' and she's a nepo baby." I dont think she's William's DIRECT daughter cause man died in the 90s and she was 23 in the 2030s so. grandkid or smth

If Edwin/David is a metaphor for anything it's William/CC and not Henry/Charlie – listen i understand the whole "single dad building the robots and then breaking one in a rage" thing from TSE but also the mimic likes to mimic its creator and child before all else and who is it mimicking? afton and the little boy in sb who happens to look a shitton like cc. also game!charlie is never indicated as having a special plushie that followed her everywhere but cc very certainly did and hey if mimic can grow and shrink to fit in anything whos to say it didnt shrink into the fredbear to repeat stock phrases to cc such as "tomorrow is another day." also in the character encyclopedia art of cc he is holding his fredbear plush the same way burntrap positions his arm to imitate holding something. an

They're not gonna pull the Charliebot twist again. Nobody's a secret robot – first off from a writing perspective that's not the kinda twist you do twice. second off with the... less than stellar reception to the twist in the first place i dont think theyre gonna pull it again

"Cassidy" isn't the Golden Freddy Kid's name, it's Crying Child's – the logbook has Crying Child communicate through manipulating the text, while the spirit he's talking to speaks in faint writing; the second spirit never has a confirmed identity, but CC is most definite considering the stuff referenced around him. The "ITS ME CASSIDY" is revealed through.... manipulated text. The clues are in........ manipulated text. "It's Me" is CC calling out to Michael. The other spirit says "My name is..." a couple times BUT they also ask CC if he remembers his name just a few pages before. Granted this might just be us not understanding something but also if Cassidy is CC's name then who the fuck is Golden Freddy Kid. is Michael Brooks still canon

The nightmare gas didn't "ruin the lore" it's just kinda funny – look guys literally all of this lore is fucked, the fact they just threw in "also William Afton was doing nightmare gas experiments on kidnapped kids and then abandoned it for shits and giggles" in the eighth book of their second anthology series and then moving on like nothing happened while the fanbase collapses in on itself is like THE funniest thing they could've done

[planetharrie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Toddler Tantrums

This is also available on my Wattpad @PlanetHarrie.

In which Harry and Lucille’s little doll of a daughter turns two and into a diva, causing mayhem in the household.. 👧🏡🧸

⭐️

The Terrible Twos; The phase neither Harry or Lucille had been looking forward to, at ALL. Having it only been a week since their little Opal had turned two, all of the sudden she'd become angry, whiny and clingy—mainly towards her mother. And with Lucille being less than a month away from giving birth to their second child, she did not having the patience or physical ability to tame a screaming and kicking child.

One night, after a 5 hour-long battle with Opal to get her into bed, Lucille had snapped and broke down to Harry in their bedroom. She was exhausted and burnt-out. The biting and scratching had caused red marks up her forearms but overall, the sound of her precious one wailing and screaming 'I hate you!’ had broke her.

Harry had been helping as much as he could, but Opal seemed to only want her mother; whether it be physically clinging onto Lucille's leg or screaming in her face 'I want a new mummy!', Opal would not let Harry pick her up and would cover her little ears every time he tried to speak to her.

So, one Saturday, Harry forced his wife out of the house for a day out with her sister and mum for some much-needed girl-time and shopping; leaving Harry to deal with the devil.

It was only ten-thirty AM and Opal had already kicked off; what had started off as a cute chasing-game as Harry raced after Opal, who'd escaped the bath and refused to get dressed, had turned into tears.

"Opal, Daddy wants you to get dressed—OW!" Harry was knelt in the middle of the hallway, holding Opal in his chest when she squirmed and head-butted his chin, "No hitting! That's very naughty; You've hurt Daddy!" He tasted that bitter, metallic taste on his tongue and grimaced.

"N-No, Dada!" She continued to squirm in his grasp, pushing her arms into his chest in attempt of escaping. She let out an echoing screech when a shirt was suddenly pulled over her head and began arching her back as she fought. Harry, with his immaculate and impressive amount of patience, calmly cooed and shushed her gently.

"You can't go out and play without clothes on, baby."

Opal was a proper girly-girl; she loved wearing pink and having Lucille paint her little nails and plait her fawn-brown curls. She loved surprising her Dad with her new look, twirling and smiling as she showed him her outfit. This behaviour was completely out of the ordinary for her, and every tantrum was like a beating to the body for both parents.

"Daddy! P-Please," A sob wracked her voice and Harry instantly let go, sighing with defeat as Opal clambered off his lap and stood in front of him. Her curls were still wet from her bath and her cheeks and eyes were red and puffy.

"I hate you!" She screamed, clenching her fists and running past into the living room, still undressed.

"Fuck." Harry dragged his hand down his face. He was angry—furious even—but also heartbroken. He'd watched many episodes of Super Nanny but he never thought he'd actually have to deal with such horrific temper tantrums from such a small being. Maybe she's hungry? He thought for a second, but rolled his eyes and pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He got up from his kneeling position. His knees clicked as he stood and waddled into the kitchen. He silently began clearing up breakfast. The dining table had spilt Cheerios and milk and juice all over it's oak top and Harry prayed that nothing would stain.

A little while had passed. Harry had eaten an apple, made a smoothie for himself, done the dishes and was currently sat on a stool scrolling through his phone as he waited for a pan of beans to heat up on the stove. Beans on toast was Opal's favourite meal ever since she'd caught an awful stomach bug a few weeks back. It was also Lucille's comfort food too, hence why it was offered to Opal for her try. Harry hoped that this early lunch would win Opal around so that they can have a talk together.

Harry looked up from his phone when he heard a faint, "Daddy.." from somewhere in the house. He hadn't heard a peep from her since she'd stormed off and he slightly feared that she was coming back for another round.

Little bare feet pattered into the kitchen. Opal stood in the doorway, still undressed in her nappy and her hair dry but knotted. In her hands was a piece of paper.

"Daddy, I called you an' you didn' answer.." She mumbled with a pout.

"Sorry, baby, I didn't hear you.." Harry lied. He put his phone on the counter and gave his daughter his full attention. "Have you come to tell me somethin'?" He hoped she'd come to make peace and apologise. Harry, she two-years-old. What two-year-old says sorry willingly? He told himself.

Opal stared blankly at the floor, swaying slightly on her feet before gently passing him the piece of paper. "I made it while you was mad,"

Harry took it gracefully. It was a drawing of three stick figures; one tall stickman, a smaller one wearing a tutu and a medium-sized one with—what Harry guessed to be—a baby bump. He chuckled at her sweet attempt of drawing the family. Red 'hearts' were dotted around the page and in the corner (very, very small) was a written 'sorey' underlined in purple gel-pen. Harry's heart swelled and he bent down on the stool and offered his arm out to bring her in for a side-hug.

"Thank you, my baby. This is very kind of you, well done!" He squeezed out a little giggle from her, "But I wasn't mad, I could never get mad at you, Opie."

She pulled away and chewed on her lip, "I'm still sowey, though.."

"I know you are. You can't keep being nasty to Mummy and me. It's not nice, is it?"

She shook her head.

"I think Mummy deserves an apology too, don't you?"

"Mhm! I will run up to her the second she comes into my room and I'll scream it and hug her and I'll never ever be mean again!" She grinned, showing her baby teeth; Harry hadn't seen her smile properly in a little while. "And I'll even draw her another drawin'"

"That's a very good idea, baby!" She grinned again and her eyes wandered up to the hissing noise from the stove.

"Are you making beans on toast?!" Her voice raised an octave in excitement.

"Yup! Your favourite, hm?" Harry picked up his little girl to help him stir the beans. They turned up the radio and sang and danced along to ME! by Taylor Swift, which was Opal's favourite. The two settled down on the sofa with a tray each with a portion of beans on toast steaming on their laps and Opal requested that they watch Trolls as she ate.

-

Lucille came home a few hours later with some bags of shopping and a take-away pizza, surprised when she was not greeted by neither her hyper-clingy daughter or knackered husband. Placing the bags onto the kitchen counter, she entered the dimly-lit living room only to find her two curled up on the couch asleep with the end-credits of Trolls displayed on the TV. Harry's head was tilted back against the sofa with Opal's head laid on a pillow on his lap. She had orange sauce around her mouth and was cocooned cutely in a blanket. Lucille smiled and ran her hand gently over her large, pregnant stomach before spotting a drawing on the coffee table. In bright letters was 'Sorry Mummy!' Lucille laughed to herself softly and assumed Harry had helped her as there was no way Opal could spell either of those words without help. Harry stirred and lifted his head up from the back of the couch, rubbing sleep from his eye. He glanced up and spotted his wife.

"Oh—hi, love." He rasped.

"Hi." She smiled, running her hand through his hair. "Busy day?" She teased, and by Harry's look on his face, she already knew the answer.

"Busy is an understatement."

⭐️

[moldingtundra]

thought I’d talk about my interpretation of unpleasant because yes (also I might make an ask blog about it)

Ok so lord timeee!! Content warning for some really sensitive topics (genocide, murder, prostitution, implied abuse, etc.) so watch out.

so unpleasant gradient (aka gradie) was born because his mother was a prostitute (so was his dad but much less so) and his fathers parents found out so they made him marry her, obviously that does shit and eventually when he turned 7 his father left and he was left along and u can kindddaaa imagine what happeneds when ur left with this type of mom whis also an alcoholic and smoker…yeahhh, so he gets two sibs (one if them is older the other is younger, same mom) pleasant gradient (older, named penny) and monotomous graident (younger, named mono) who took care of him when his mother escaped without him at 11 years old including a third sibling who used to take care of him when he was a toddler but ran away from home due to his mom (they were mutated gradient). (gradie has a shit ton, you can imagine why lmao) but he only sees it once and never again, so the three brothers have to survive the famine and genocide going around (it started before gradie was even born) but obviously u can imagine what happens in this typa scenerio (gradie had to almost say bye bye to half of his body bc of a bomb at 12 and watch penny die and mono run away then escape at 15 (the scars dwindled over time dw but it’s still there )) and then there is an opurtunity to escape the country with a bus, but theres only one bus ticket, so a random woman gives it to gradie and sends him off bc she knows he has the most potential and promises to find him (its been 45 years he still hasnt seen them) here’s art of what he looked like back then:

so after he escaped he rebuild his life in the land equivalent of AMERICUH and he attends this high school and he falls in love with builderman but decides not to confess and they both decide to graduate together and try getting it big, builderman did it by building the robloxia community and gradie byt writing his experiences with genocide and hiking high feets no one reached, like he won some guinness world record and some new york times bestseller thing- my guy was packed!!!…..until he got hit by a truck and couldnt do anything anymore (sad 💔) ON TOP OF THAT builderman married jane doe and had thier kid (infected) and graide would by to babysit infected since he was a wee little baby.

so kasper got infected at his 12th birthday. But the infected turns him into a vicious furry or whatever (werewolf if you want) and the first time that happened, he fucking ate his parents and gradie literally just came by to give them lasagna and infecteds present, so now his parents are dead, and graide decides to adopt infected (who hates it lol) and they just raise infected while tryna deal with his furry issue (his furry issue caused him to eat his own cat and some residents) and graide is just like tryna fucking hold himself together bc if the kid u had to babysit thats from ur one sided gay lover who married a fugly woman decides to kill yo one sided gay lover and u had to adopt him I wouldve eaten my organs)

and that’s basically it! Expect an ask blog for him soon this week or before I die lol

toodaloo!

[kouhaiofcolor]

Hi! I know this may sound ridiculous, but my mom and sister (unintentionally) made me feel bad about my complexion. My mom is extremely fair skin but she’s 100% black. Yesterday, my family and I were looking at old family photos, which included baby/toddler/child pictures of me. (I eventually stopped looking bc I don’t like looking at pictures of myself. I am not confident about my appearance regardless of what age. Ik it sounds a bit extreme, but I have major self esteem issues.) Today, my mom and sister mentioned how much lighter I was as a child. I don’t have an issue w my complexion but they were making it sound bad that I got darker now that I’m an adult. I’ve experienced a lot of racial trauma from going to an all white middle and high school and I’ve dealt with a lot of insecurities but this just made it worse. I love my complexion but they made it sound like I became less feminine/cute/attractive over time once I got darker.

Genuinely makes my skin crawl to hear about or witness colorism like this. It’s even worse when the damage is inflicted by family (esp this casually). I’d argue that it feels even worse coming from Black family members who are women — bc while yes, a lot of it has to do w poor education or awareness on what is antiblack or colorist even within our own communities, I do genuinely wish Black mothers this applies to wouldn’t overlook how harmful it is. If your sister is similarly fair skinned like her, that makes it even weirder considering what they were projecting ab your complexion itfp. This doesn’t sound extreme at all to feel mistreated over; there was definitely colorism in the basis of their criticisms (it was also weird to insinuate that you looked “more appealing(?)” as a child too, as if you weren’t actively growing into your features, including the color of your skin).

Goodness, why make your own child feel inferior for their complexion tho? And why make it acceptable for another one of your children to chip in w the same antagonistic ignorance? That’s teaching & perpetuating both colorism & featurism right there at home. 🤦🏽‍♀️I think that this is a terrible normalcy & habit among Black People that is way more common than even we realize or are comfortable taking accountability for where it applies to us. Not among all Black communities or all Black households or all Black families, but there’s definitely enough of it in the mix to be prevalent. It’s fucked up when non blacks do this, absolutely; but I find it levels of disgusting when it comes from our own people. Esp other Black Women. Way too many Black men already subject us to these qualities of compromise to our self image & mental health. What in the fuck could you possibly gain from enhancing this kind of misogynoir stress for your Black daughter? I’m so sorry.

Whether your sister and mother realize it or not, they were out of place. What they were doing was inappropriate; almost mean-girlish. That wasn’t ok & im sorry you experienced that. Feeling wronged by it is valid as well. If you can, or when you’re comfortable if you’re able, you should tell them this. You should tell them how it made you feel, even though you’ve given them the benefit of the doubt w knowing it didn’t necessarily come from a place of sheer maliciousness. I’m sure they love you, & didn’t mean to hurt you. But they do need to know it’s harmful, bc we definitely don’t talk about this openly enough within Black culture.

[organchordsandlightning]

shit okay so i've finished the lighthouse series finally and i love your characterisation of faroe in it so deeply. wanted to ask - thoughts on what a teenaged faroe would be like? having to interact with normal people and realising how fucking weird her family is, and whatever she remembers of her childhood. she's such a delight and she's such a menace. i wanna know what she'd be like when she's a little older

ohhh, i’m glad you enjoyed and you have absolutely activated my ‘can’t shut up’ trap card! teenage faroe HCs under cut

so I think my big HC for teenage faroe is that she gets really into painting as her preferred mode of art. I like to think arthur did teach her piano, and she likes it well enough, but it didn’t have the same emotional attachment arthur had for it. 

nobody can say exactly why this comes about, but john almost reverently describing every piece of art she made as a toddler/child to arthur probably had something to do with it. i also like to think that faroe’s brief time in the Dark World, and especially under the influence of Arthur-Wearing-John’s-Old-Yellow-Robe, has affected her, just a bit - just in that her dreams are a little more vivid, a little more memorable, and little more Out There (leading to John having a small breakdown one day when teenage faroe draws a stunningly good representation of Carcosa, right down to the throne room). she prefers landscapes in general, but the family portrait hanging in arthur and john’s house was definitely painted by Faroe for Arthur’s birthday.

as for personality! I think Faroe is definitely a ‘see an injured baby bird, bring it home’ type of person - and she definitely keeps the curiosity that she inherited from her father. while it was less worrying when she rarely went anywhere without holding onto someone hand, it definitely became more worrying when the adults stopped walking her to school every day. I really love the idea of Faroe’s investigative spirit starting with ‘I’m going to crack the case of The Missing Cookie so I can be a detective just like Daddy’ to ‘ope Faroe’s coming home close to midnight because she was helping a classmate look for a lost cat’. with three detectives in her immediate family, it’s never that hard to find her in Arkham, but doesn’t stop Arthur and John especially from being scared to death. they taught Faroe occult symbols at a pretty young age and Faroe always understood that that was the one thing they would not let her fuck around with. 

(I was also so close to including the idea that Arthur gets a seeing eye dog when Faroe is still a child, who Faroe names Goldie. Faroe takes to Goldie so much that they get a second dog just for her [’sweetie, I know you’re having fun playing with Goldie but Goldie has to work now’] - a little white Westie named Bones. this is 100% the adorable animal mascot Faroe investigates with.)

relatedly, I think everyone struggled a lot with Faroe’s growing independence, especially with how close her family is. like, I don’t think Faroe ever had a rebellious phase per se (that is, she was never like ‘fuck you dad I don’t play by your rules’), but she definitely leaned more into ... ‘I Know This Is The Right Thing To Do Why Are You Telling Me I Can’t Do This Because I’m A Child’, which is a lot more frustrating all around.

(still, parker remembers the last time he was called ‘Uncle Bark’ and shifted to only ‘Uncle Parker’ [except when she’s scared or upset].)

i think Faroe might have had a brief period where she became acutely aware (in the way that teenagers are) that her home life is Not The Norm (i used to joke that Faroe, as a child, would say ‘sometimes I stay with Daddy and Mr. John, who kiss, and sometimes I stay with Mama and Uncle Bark, who don’t’). while I don’t think that she ever got badly teased about it [everyone likes Bella, the lady who makes all the costumes for school plays, and everyone likes Mr. Yang, the guy who cheers all the kids on at the baseball game, and everyone is moderately lukewarm on Mr.s Lester and Doe who look kind of pissy but generally mean well], I think the first time Faroe tried to underplay her home situation (maybe she implied Bella and Arthur were married, maybe she pretended like Mr. John wasn’t her dad, per se), John -- unable to hide the emotions on his face  -- looked so fucking sad that even Faroe, at 14 years old, was like awwwwwww shit I can’t do that again. Overall though, I do think Faroe borders on being pretty popular among her class. She’s involved in a lot of stuff, Bella handmakes her clothes, and more than a few students in the school have had their family’s cases solved by the Lester/Doe/Yang partnership.

 as for what Faroe remembers, I would think (other than her dreams)  she doesn’t remember much of her time in the Dark World, or being dead. She doesn’t like swimming much, but that’s more along the lines of Arthur being too anxious to teach her as a child, and thus Faroe learning a little later in life. She remembers a happy home - though the duos lived separately, she remembers them being together so often that it seemed like they all lived together.  If she had an emotional problem, she’s more inclined to go to her mother (who sometimes talks to her as if she’s a fellow classmate, and not her daughter) or Mr. John (who seems to get things in ways that Parker and Arthur can’t). If she needs something done, it’s Parker (who seems to know every person in Arkham) or her father (who would move heaven and earth for her, in a way that makes Faroe a liiiiiiiitttle scared to ever have kids. Arthur, god bless, is a little intense).

however, I do think the truth comes out around the time when Faroe is a teenager. Faroe was aware for a while of things not seeming right: her father’s acutely visible scars and bright amber eyes, for one thing. Still, I think they didn’t want to tell her as a child, and she was easily enough distracted from any questions whenever she asked.

It’s only when she becomes a teenager that it starts to become unavoidable. For one thing, she finds Parker Yang’s obituary in a newspaper at the library. She reads the term ‘John Doe’ in a book and, uh-oh, that seems a little weird. And, um. What are all these ‘Police Searching For Arthur Lester, supposed murderer of Parker Yang’ news clippings in the library? And, hang on, if her mother is fifteen years younger than Arthur, then why do they have so many stories of growing up together?

and I think, at some point, they sit her down and tell her all of it. Not the nitty gritty details, not how Arthur got all his scars, but enough for Faroe to realize that most of her family - including herself - was dead, at one point. Enough for Faroe to realize that, oops, one of her dads used to be a god, and maybe her dreams aren’t just dreams.

and of course it’s a lot to take in, and there’s a couple of weeks where Faroe’s basically sleepwalking through life, but her family helps her through it. I think at the end of the day, the thing that helps her most is the thing that her Uncle Parker told her (and the same thing Parker told Arthur, way back when Arthur lost his memory): that no matter how the story went, she was safe and loved, and she had a lot of people making sure she always would be.

thanks for asking!

[sp1c3m0nst3r]

This is a rant. Ignore it.

A little context; my toddler niece had to share a bed with my sister and I due to her little baby sister who is not feeling well.

This morning my niece 💩 her diapers when she was asleep, so I set up necessary items to clean her up; diapers, towels and clothes. Since her clothes were already folded and put away, I had to went into their room. Her parents, my brother and his wife, still sleeping on the bed under the covers so I quickly snuck in to get the clothes.

That's it.

To clarify, I rather not sneak in. But their doors were unlock, so I thought might as well. And if I didn't get her clothes, you know, just clean her off, give her a shower and let her wear her pj, my brother would be reprimand me for not getting her day clothes.

This always happen with him; do A when do B but also do E when do B. 🙄

Guess what he did today? He lectured me as if I don't have any manners . I told him that he done the same thing in the past; my sister was in the bathroom, he can clearly hear the water running but went in anyway. You know what he said to me when I mentioned it? He told me mum was "needing a hand" so he unlocked the door and went in.

First of; no, mum didn't need a hand. If she did, why can't you offer yours back then? And this situation happens many times.

And he sprinkled different scenario; me opening random hotel door for to look into a pretty room. Like, what? Have I done something like this in my entire life? Fck no. I don't randomly open door because of stupid reasons. He must be think that I was born yesterday or something.

Then the icing on the cake; he want me to apologize to him. I did, and I told him I'm not doing it again. And very less likely so. Why bother doing the same thing over when you got scolded, even if it wasn't your doing.

Did he let it go after that like an adult? No, to show his "goodwill" he asked whether or not I have my passport and to check the expiration date if I have one. Why he asked? Because he want to bring me to vacation.

Fuck to the hell no.

First of all, I have agoraphobia. I hate going outside the house. Leaving the house for long extended of time, the house will descend to chaos. So that's a big NO.

through out all this, I was very, very offended and angry. He made a remarked on my expression, I told him twice that I can't help my emotions showing on my face.

It must be feel nice to be high and mighty after years of causing my trauma and gaslighting me. 👏👏👏

[meetmymouth]

theadora, part eight (and nine)

previous parts | full chapters on patreon | playlist

A/N: posting two chapters combined because i’m nice. warnings for this chapter includes loss of a family pet, and sexual content. enjoy. reblogs make me happy! feedback is always welcome.

The first time Harry met Y/N, it wasn’t love at first sight; he simply wanted to devour her with everything he had in him, and it did not matter if they saw each other after that or not. He remembers her black dress, hugging her frame just right, and her questionable shoe choice, though she made the tall heels work beautifully which came as a surprise to him. When she first caught his eye, he remembers the puzzled expression on her face, as if to say, why are you staring at me? He couldn’t help but stare though, couldn’t help but take her in.

She stood at the bar, next to a friend of a friend, and as they people-watched, Harry watched her. He watched the judgement in her eyes as she eyed a couple of people from her line of work, and Harry couldn’t help but smile when she turned the judgement in her eyes into an angelic smile, nodding at said people as they walked past her. She was something else, and Harry simply wanted to hear her voice clearer instead of the hushed chatter coming from where they stood.

So, when she looked up at him for the second time, he had excused himself to go up to them, and introduce himself to her.

The rest was history.

Their first date was a disaster. Disaster, because Harry had gone and fucked it up by trying to cook something he’s never attempted to cook before: beef Wellington. While they were busy sipping on the wine she’s brought, said beef burned in the oven, emitting an unpleasant smell before the fire alarm had gone off, bringing them back to reality, bursting their bubble. She had laughed, watching from one of the stools as he put some pasta on to boil, and apologised profusely, though according to her, you’ve nothing to be sorry for, it happens. That was it, he was almost there; he was falling hard, and he didn’t know what to do.

He let it happen.

The love only grew, especially when she got pregnant with Theadora. He loved watching her belly grow every week; every month, and never complained when she wanted nothing to do with him at bedtime because I don’t like the smell of your hand cream, it makes my head hurt. He loved her, loved her so much, and when the divorce papers got delivered to his flat, he signed them in a heartbeat, just to show her. Show her what she would be missing, though it turned out to be the opposite, having to live without her, without them as a result. Perhaps, he should’ve protested, and not signed them that quickly. Ever since that day, he lived in what if’s, wondering what would happen if held his ground.

It was what it was. He had to learn how to live without Y/N, without Theadora. That was the worst part, he thinks, having to live without his baby, not being able to witness her grow up into the most precious toddler, watch her sleep every so often and feed her, witness bath times and the first steps… he knew he was missing out.

One side of him felt anger towards Y/N. Anger, for she let everything come to this, come to divorce, and ultimately, not giving Theadora the chance to grow up in a single household. Although he wanted and dreamed of that, he also knew he wasn’t your ordinary father and that his job held him back from being a ‘normal’ parent. He felt guilty, for the anger he harboured inside, and for the time he couldn’t spend with his daughter. He wanted to do more, he wanted to be more. He was trying, he certainly was, and he knew sometimes, he let work come before every important thing in his life, which included Theadora. As his mother said, he needed to learn how to say ‘no’, and work less in order to spend more time with Theadora, and help Y/N in co-parenting for he knew she wouldn’t be able to co-parent on her own.

He presses the side button on his phone, and smiles at the photo of Theadora, smiling with two bottom teeth with Harry’s blue cap on her head, covering most of her face: forehead and green eyes. Though, nothing beats the dimpled-smile, Harry thinks. He sighs, and takes another sip from his wine as Adele sings softly in the background.

The phone call comes just after twelve o’clock at night, and Harry feels his breath hitch in his throat as Y/N’s stepmother keeps talking on the other end of the line.

Truth be told, Harry knew Sylvia was an old cat. Having known Y/N and her family for years, he’d also come to know the ever-precious, grumpy family cat Sylvia. Though, he never thought there would come a day where Sylvia wouldn’t be here anymore. He just nods, and blabbers on on the phone, trying to make sense of everything as Y/N’s stepmother encourages him to be there for Y/N, visit if he could as she knew how much she loved Sylvia.

He grabs his keys from the console table, and gets on the road seventeen past twelve, and curses at the traffic even at this hour of the night. When he finally arrives at her flat, he takes a few minutes just letting the emotions come and go, thoughts swirling in his head, and he finally gets out, hugging the jacket closer into his body to protect himself from the cold.

The sight when she opens the door is heartbreaking.

With bloodshot eyes, and lips trembling, she lets out another sob at the sight of Harry, and lets him in with a silent conversation happening between them.

* * *

The sight of him is truly comforting, she thinks, dressed in nothing but a black jumper and a pair of pink joggers. His socked feet come as a comfort to her as they make their way inside, and she tries not to care too much about the tear stains on her cheek, or the state of her living room, toys and tissues everywhere.

She watches Harry look around for a moment before he sits on the armchair. “Tea?” He whispers, looking straight into her bloodshot eyes.

“No, thank you.”

“Do you need anything else?” He says, clearly trying his best not to disturb the stillness of her living room.

She shakes her head, alternating between silent sobs and reaching for more tissues. When she remembers how Sylvia won’t be here to see Thea grow up, a pathetic sob shakes her whole body, and she watches Harry bite his bottom lip before he gets up, and walks over to her on the sofa. Without any warning, she feels his arms around her, and he lets her lay her head on his chest, and cry– cry until she can’t feel her eyes and mouth.

Then it hits her.

Her head on his chest, it hits her how much she’s missed this– his chest, his touch, everything he has to offer. It feels just like the old times, being in each other’s arms, so she breathes in the smell of him, the homey smell and the sweet yet tangy smell of him when he’s a bit sweaty. She loves it, and basks in the feeling and his touch as his hands rub the small of her back ever-so-gently while she lets out tiny sobs, both because of Sylvia, and also at the fact that she might never get to feel this– feel his touch ever again after tonight.

“Shh, come on,” Harry whispers, pressing a kiss on her head.

She looks up, and sniffs. “I don’t know why I can’t stop crying,” she says, voice broken and hoarse.

“It’s normal. She was a big part of your life. You’ve known her since you were a teenager.”

“I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“I know… I know,” Harry nods, hand never stopping its movement on her back. She lets him continuously rub her back.

It’s warm, and it feels like home.

There’s a beat of silence, and Harry moves his head so he can see hers better.

“How about that tea?” He asks, a tiny smile appearing on his face, along with his dimples.

She bites her lip, and gives in with a brief nod of her head.

They drink their tea in silence, side by side, and the only noise is the hustling cars outside despite the hours of the night. She places hers on a coaster on the coffee table, and turns to the side, admiring Harry’s side profile as he takes occasional sips from the hot beverage.

He looks good.

He looks so handsome under the mellow lights of her living room, shadows casting over his beautiful face as she watches his throat move from time to time. She thinks she could get used to this, having him this close after everything and despite everything. She reckons this is the only time she will get to admire his side profile this much, and it’s almost as though Theadora chose not to wake up–which she does often after twelve at night–and she can’t help but scoff quietly at this foolish theory of hers. Time would fly, like it always did, and Harry would leave, too, leaving them on their own once again.

“What are you thinking?” He asks, and she realises he also got his mug on a coaster, and is now watching her with curious eyes. He smiles when she focuses back on his face.

She smiles back.

A shrug. “Nothing,” she says. “Nothing at all.”

This gets a low chuckle out of him, and he leans back. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m just thinking– how nice it is, to have you here.”

It’s stupid, and it’s not rehearsed. It’s something she’s been thinking the whole time, and she realises she’s said it out loud as soon as the words leave her mouth. She did not have the time to rehearse these words in her head, like she always did, and in a way, she thinks it’s good. It feels good, saying it out loud– what’s on your mind.

Harry sighs, a crease between his brows, and nods. It’s almost as if he’s too stunned and scared to talk– scared the moment will evaporate into nothing but air.

“I agree,” he says, voice low, almost in a whisper. He nods. “I agree,” he says once again, and it almost feels like he’s responding to himself, in his head.

“Sorry,” she laughs, reaching for her tea again. “Sorry for making this weird.”

“Why is it weird?”

“I’m saying things out of my arse.”

“Like?”

She shrugs. “Like, what I just said. About how nice it is… having you here and stuff,” she sniffs, biting the corner of her thumb. She takes another sip from her now-cold tea.

Harry looks puzzled, and a little offended at that. “So,” he says, like he’s trying to make sense of everything. “It’s not nice– having me here? That what you’re saying?” He tries to smile, but fails.

“It is… forget I said anything.”

“No,” he whispers, looking down at his hands on his lap. He plays with the ring on his middle finger– one that has ‘Theadora’ carved onto it. She watches him play with it. “I don’t think I can.”

She looks up at his face, and he does, too, as if he’s sensed it. They hold eye contact for a few seconds before he lets out a chuckle, and shakes his head in disbelief.

“What?” She asks, a defensiveness clear in her tone.

“All these years and you still have me wrapped around your finger.”

A hitch in her throat, and she raises her eyebrows. Too stunned to speak, she finds herself shaking her head, though she doesn’t know what her reaction is for.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means, every little thing you say or do either goes to my head,” he says, nodding, “Or to my heart.”

They hold eye contact for a moment, and it’s her who breaks it first. She can’t handle the tension, the emotions swirling in between them, in the air, so she looks down at her knees, her black joggers suddenly way too interesting than they were before. Before she can look up, she feels a hand on her chin, fingers, and she has to look up at him.

He looks beautiful, and pathetically in love; it makes her remember how it was before. That was it really, the way he looked, it reminded her of how they were back then, how in love and hopeful Harry had looked at her. He looked, and stared at her like she was his prize, like he’d waited for eternities to be in her presence, and almost as if she was too good to be true.

She desperately remains put, holding eye contact like she wants him to open up his mouth, and swallow her whole and there, in his stomach, she would be showered with all the delayed love he had for her, the love he couldn’t wait to shower her in.

She gulps, and Harry’s fingers wander across her chin, thumb stroking the skin there before his gaze falls to her lips, though she notices the moment only lasts for a second or two.

He retracts his fingers like he’s been struck by lightning, and the moment is over.

She clears her throat, he does, too. They both look down at their hands, and she leans back on the sofa, trying to find a comfortable position for her legs. Harry clears his throat once again, and she turns to him. It’s almost funny how Theadora is still sleeping.

They don’t mention it.

“Harry,” she says, tone hopeful.

He looks up, though he’s still playing with his fingers. “Yes,” he says, and he has to cough into his fist once before he repeats himself.

“Did you ask your mother, the adoption thing?”

“Oh. I forgot, I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“That’s okay,” a smile. “I know Sylvia didn’t live with us, but I really want to adopt a cat soon.”

Harry takes his phone out, and taps the screen once. “You know what,” he says. “My mum’s probably awake. I’ll call her.”

She lets out a giggle. “Don’t be silly, it’s past twelve. You can talk to her about it tomorrow.”

Despite her words, he’s already pressing the phone into his ear with a shake of his head.

“It’s okay, she’s a night owl– mum?”

She watches a smile appear on his face, presumably at the sound of his mother.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he says.

…

“Yeah. Y/N wants to adopt– what?”

…

“Mum… listen. She wants to adopt a kitten. Seeing how you own hundreds of them, I figured you’d be able to help us.”

…

“Yeah, I know.”

…

He turns to her. “What about a dog, she says,” he says to her.

She raises her eyebrows. “Why?”

“She’s asking why– yeah ‘m with her– no… no.”

…

“She just asked why.”

…

“Oh. Well, she wants a kitten. Are you– why all the questions, mum,” Harry makes a face. She chuckles quietly. “Mum, we want a kitten. Are you able to help, or not?”

…

“Okay, thanks. I’ll let her– well, yeah, she’s here– no, you’re not on speaker.”

…

“I’m not gonna do that,” he sighs.

…

“Jesus, okay,” he places the phone on his knee. “You’re on speaker.”

She looks up at him, eyes widening at the statement.

Anne talks.

“Y/N?” She says, and she needs to swallow a few times, having not heard her voice in months making her feel all sorts of things.

“Yeah…” she says.

“How are you sweetheart?”

She nods, knowing she won’t be able to see her. “I’m good,” she looks at Harry. “How are you?”

“I’m good as well, thank you sweetheart. You’re looking to adopt?”

“Yes…”

“I will be looking into it, then,” Anne says, the smile clear in her voice. “How is my little love?”

“She’s good. Um… she’s asleep.”

“I cannot wait to see her,” Anne says, but Harry intervenes right away.

“Mum,” he says. “We talked about this, we’re coming to visit this week.”

Anne chuckles. “I’m talking with Y/N.”

* * *

She opens the door with a beaming smile, and utters a ‘come on in, loveys, it’s cold’.

Harry smiles, and asks Theadora to hold his hand as they walk inside Anne’s warm home, the smell of freshly prepared food and vanilla candles welcoming them in. It smells like fresh bread, and something so familiar, though he can’t put his finger on it as they walk in and are greeted by two of her cats, Dusty and Maybe. Theadora ‘aw’s as Harry works the buttons on her coat, taking it off first before he takes her beanie off and moves onto his own coat and hat after his shoes are placed neatly by the front door. He watches with a smile on his face as Theadora tries to pet Maybe, but she runs away with Dusty standing alone, and she lets Theadora pet her head before she tries to reach her tail: that’s when Dusty follows in Maybe’s footsteps.

Seeing the exchange and watching both cats run from Thea, Anne sweeps in, and takes the toddler into her arms, Thea laughing when she presses kisses in the crook of her neck.

“Harry,” Anne says, hugging the girl close to her chest. Harry looks up. “She’s gotten so big, I can’t believe this.”

“I know,” Harry says, sighing, because he does know. “Can you imagine how I felt when I got back from tour?” He murmurs, mentioning the last few legs he had to go without his biggest supporters following him around like they did before the divorce.

Anne tuts, and helps Theadora get on her feet, watching her for a moment as she runs to the corner where her toys are.

“Now, let’s not do that, hm?” She says, walking over to him. She brings him into a side-hug, and presses a kiss on his forehead. He smiles, eyes closing shut at the familiar and comforting feeling of his mother.

They’re in the kitchen, Thea in her highchair–which belonged to one of her cousins who are now too old for it–playing with the crayons before her as Harry and Anne chat over tea. Anne asks about his break, and the conversation takes a turn when she mentions Y/N, recalling their conversation on the phone when Harry was also there. He can’t help the blush on his cheeks when he remembers how close they’d gotten before the phone call, though he can’t help but feel anger towards Y/N due to how fast she’d seemed to recover from their moment while Harry had still felt the remnants of their almost-kiss everywhere on his body; his neck, his stomach, the tips of his fingers…

“I told Y/N I’ll call her as soon as I find something for her,” Anne says, cutting up the apple in halves so Thea can hold it in her hands and try and eat it.

Harry looks up, too busy with the theatre of his mind. “I know. I was there when you were on the phone.”

“Which brings me–”

“–Mum.”

“What?” Anne shrugs, smiling when Thea accepts the apple. They watch her–try–bite into it. “Why were you there?”

“My daughter lives there.”

Anne raises her eyebrows. “Just asking.”

“Just sayin’,” Harry muses back. “It’s a silly question.”

“Quit being rude to me and start setting up the table,” she gestures at the plates and the wine glasses on the counter.

With one hand on his hip, he looks at said plates and wine glasses. “Is Gem coming over?”

“She is. When was the last time you phoned your sister, H?”

“Well…”

Gemma arrives half an hour later, and fifteen minutes is spent with Gemma and Thea hugging, kissing, and numerous selfies later, they sit and eat her mother’s shepherd’s pie, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. Gemma talks about her job but doesn’t take long to tease Harry about not even visiting her once now that he’s taking a break and is in London.

“How long is your break,” she asks, reaching for more wine.

“A year probably.”

She nods. “A year of doing nothing, hm?”

“Not exactly. There are a few interviews lined up. I’m just not touring or recording for now. Even if I did,” he says, taking a sip from his wine. Anne and Gemma both raise an eyebrow. “I would do it here in London. Not leaving anytime soon.”

Across him, Anne nods. “Good,” she says.

“How’s Y/N?”

“Uh,” Harry turns to Gemma. “Why are you asking?”

This makes her laugh, presumably having noticed the blush on his cheeks that is due to both the wine, and the mention of his ex-wife.

“Just asking,” Gemma says, shrugging. “I only talk to her through the comment section on Instagram it seems.”

“She’s good– she’s– yeah. She’s good.”

“Okay…”

“Yeah.”

Gemma shrugs, turning to Thea. “Your dad’s weird.”

“Daddy.”

This makes them all laugh, Harry bringing his hands up to his face to cover the blush.

“Yes,” Gemma nods, caressing her cheek. “Your daddy. Weirdo.”

“Gemma,” Anne tuts.

“Daddy,” Thea says again, legs bouncing below. “Daddy. Weeduh.”

“Thea…” A crease appears between his brows.

Gemma shrugs, chuckling into her wine. Anne gets up, and starts collecting their plates.

“Let’s hope,” Anne starts. “That she doesn’t repeat the word to Y/N.”

“She’ll forget it,” Gemma says, squeezing Thea’s cheeks with both hands. The toddler giggles. “Teddy, let’s take more pictures. Come on.”

Harry grunts, leaning back in his chair. “Stop posting my daughter to your eight million followers,” he says.

Gemma looks up from her phone. “I always get the okay from Y/N.”

“Y/N?” He raises one eyebrow, an offence clear in his tone of voice. “What about me?”

“Sorry, mate.”

* * *

They arrive back to London at around eight o’clock, and Y/N opens the door in her lilac robe, one they’d gotten together years ago. He looks her up and down, somehow feeling jealous that the robe is still in her life but not him.

She notices.

“Well, hello,” she muses, arms opening to take the sleeping child. She turns around. He follows.

“Hello,” he says, bending down to take his shoes off. “She’s not hungry or anything, so I let her sleep.”

She nods. “Okay. I’ll put her to bed and come back down– can you put the kettle on?”

“Uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, then nods. “Of course.”

As promised, she comes back down a few minutes later, robe now somehow more open in the chest area, so he tries to avert his gaze, but can’t. It’s hard, having her this close with possibly nothing but the robe on, and he curses himself for thinking dirty thoughts in the same kitchen his daughter eats in. She notices him looking though, because they share a look, a very brief one before she turns her back to him to get the mugs out.

“How was it?”

“Hm?” He looks up from his feet. “Oh,” he says. “It was nice. Thanks…”

“Why are you thanking me? I’m glad it was nice. I know it’d been a while since she saw your family, so…” She falters. “I’m glad it was nice.”

The words are all rushed, like she’s trying to get them out before she says something else, but what, Harry’s not sure. He’s not complaining, though, so he keeps watching her back, her exposed neck, and the way she’s working, delicate hands getting everything ready just so she can make a cup of tea for her ex-husband. It all feels too familiar, being in this kitchen, having her make him tea dressed in nothing but a robe, like all the mornings they’d decided to spend in bed so the only time they would get out of their bed would be to make a cup of tea.

“How– how was your day?” He asks when he feels he’s getting way too ahead of himself.

She turns to him, and gives a smile. “Good. I went out with Robin and Alena. Then came back home and had a long… very long bath,” she chuckles, like she’s done something naughty.

He doesn’t even want to think about her in her bath, the same bath that they once shared, and been in together.

He nods, despite knowing she wouldn’t be able to see. “Good. That’s– good.”

“Yup.”

He sighs. She turns around, chest even more open now. He gulps, tries to avert his eyes, but he can’t help it. He watches her chest rise up and down, and has to hold himself back from launching himself at her just to kiss all over her chest, that one tattoo he once loved kissing, and getting little moans out of her. He can’t help but bite his lip when he feels his cock twitch at the dirty thoughts.

She’s aware of her effect. She is, because she takes a step closer, and rubs her chest, like she’s scratching there, then their eyes meet.

“Harry,” she says. He whines.

He does, because the way she says it, she’s done it a million times before. Before everything, before the divorce, before everything came crashing down.

He shakes his head. “Y/N…”

“Harry,” she says once again, like honey is dripping down her mouth with every syllable. He loves it– loves it so much.

“Yes?”

“Do you want to fuck me?”

His hand goes up to his forehead, suddenly a headache hitting him, and he rubs his eyes, like he’s in a dream. He shakes his head, though it’s at the way he’s feeling at the moment; wrapped around her finger.

He looks up, eyes squinted, and shakes his head once again.

She laughs.

“Harry,” she repeats once again, like she’s tasting the name in her beautiful mouth– like she wants to chew on the name and hold onto it a beat longer.

He lets her.

“Harry, do you want to fuck me? Now? Here?”

“Y/N,” he chokes out, hand on his forehead still. “You’re messing with me. You don’t know what you’re saying–”

“–Bend me over this counter, and fuck me from behind?” She says, voice laced with honey. “Like you used to… have me in every way possible.”

“Y/N…” His cock twitches even more in his pants.

“What? You wouldn’t like that? Fucking my wet pussy? Have me at your mercy, like you used to? Harry,” she whispers, hands going to the belt of her robe. She keeps them there. “Don’t you miss my warm, wet cunt? I’m so wet, so wet just from looking at you, having you so hot and bothered in my kitchen.”

“You’re–”

“–I miss your big cock, Harry. I miss feeling so full, so content with your hard cock fucking into me, filling me up with your cum… I miss it.”

“Fuck, Y/N– you know I can never say no to you,” he murmurs, rubbing his eyes. “I can never say no to you.”

“I miss your warm, big hands all over my naked body. Don’t you miss my tits? My big tits, hm? My hard nippes? I miss having your mouth on my tits, H. I miss when you used to bite my hard nipples, bruising me, owning me… I miss it all.”

He looks up. “Take it off.”

“What?”

“Take the robe off. And turn around.”

A grin tugs at the corners of her mouth, and Harry curses himself for giving in too easily. He knows he’s playing with fire– they are playing with fire, and that divorced parents should not be having this type of conversation, or these types of moments. Though, when the robe slides down her shoulders, and finds the floor, he doesn’t seem to give a shit.

He looks at her tits, her almost-hard nipples, and her pussy– not clean shaven with some hair in the middle because that’s how he liked it. He wants to cry, looking at her perfect body, he wants to cry and wail because he’s missed being this close to her naked body. He takes a step forward, and she turns around, and places her elbows on the counter, arching her back like she knows he likes. Her ass in the air, pussy visible from between, he shakes his head and lets out a pathetic chuckle.

“Are you going to fuck me,” she says, mutters more like.

With fingers working the button on his trousers, he nods. “I am. I’m going to fuck you so hard– use this pussy as my toy just to get off. How’s that sound?”

“Yes…” She whispers, slightly shaking her ass in the air.

As he lets his trousers and underwear pool around his ankles, his gaze falls to the birthmark on her left asscheek. He grabs it, and leans in to press a wet kiss on her ass, right on the birthmark before he opens his mouth, and grazes his teeth over the area, getting a whine out of her. He keeps licking and licking, teething at the warm flesh of hers as little, hushed moans leave her mouth, and with one hand on her waist squeezing, he travels the other down so he can part her cheeks, and take a look at her puckered hole. He whines, and gets his mouth on there, kissing first before licking, and he gets his hand on his cock, and swipes a finger across the tip, smearing the precum before he starts stroking his length up and down.

He’s slow, like he wants to take his time, and when she moans again as his teeth grazes her cunt, he thinks he’s had enough. He presses his cock against her tight hole first, then rubs it all over before bringing his cock to her already wet cunt. When her wetness comes in contact with his cock, he lets out a moan, biting his lip at the warm, wet feeling at the tip of his cock, and he finally presses it inside, in– so in until his cock disappears into her wetness.

It feels like the first time, and he has to bring his hand up to his eye and vigorously dry the tear there before he starts moving his hips, fucking into her like he knows she likes: slow, very slow at first like they’re tiptoeing around each other, getting to know each other’s bodies like the very first time.

“Yeah,” she whispers, ass trying to back up so she can meet his mellow, lazy thrusts. “Fuck me like you mean it, Harry– fuck me like the first time.”

He says her name, then his thrusts pick up, wanting to feel more of her body.

He sneaks a hand around her, and grabs her big tits, fiddling with the nipple and tweaking it between his thumb and index finger like he knows she likes. He squeezes, very hard, and groans when she does, hips stuttering for a moment when she backs away harshly. He’s in, so in– deep inside her and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get to fuck her this good ever again.

“So wet, and tight,” he blabbers, like he’s just learning how to talk.

He fucks her hard, her tits hitting the counter harshly, but neither of them seem to care. He fucks her hard, and fast, and when she turns around and gives him a look, he raises his hand, and smacks her ass, hard.

She turns her face, and looks down, letting out a whine.

“You like that?” Harry mutters, smacking her ass once again. “You still like pain, Y/N? Love it when I hurt you?”

“Yes– fuck– yes. Keep fucking me, keep owning me.”

“You’ve always belonged to me, haven’t you?” He thrusts into her harder now. “Always my slut, my little whore– my fuck toy.”

“Always.”

“God,” he mutters, dropping his head on her back, forehead making contact with her warm waist. “I’m gonna cum– I haven’t been inside you in so long you’re gonna make me cum so quick– it’s pathetic.”

“Come then,” she whispers. “Come on my tits.”

“Fuck… you’re killing me,” he whispers into the soft light of the kitchen, and utters her name more than once, and before he knows it, he thrusts harder into her once more and gets out of her wetness, finding her already on her knees in front of him.

He shakes his head, a silent, breathy laugh between his lips and he comes all over her chest, painting her tits in white.

“Shit, fuck me– I can’t,” he tries to talk, talk more, but he fails.

She looks up at him through her long eyelashes, nose in the air like she knows she’s the most precious thing in the world– like she knows the effect she has on him.

They still for a while, her watching the cum on her chest as he watches her.

The realisation of what had happened hits him like a tonne of bricks, and when Thea starts crying from upstairs, they both flinch, like their private bubble had popped so suddenly. They look at each other, a silent conversation happening between them before she gets up like she’s been struck by lightning, and gets her robe on without caring about the portrait on her chest as she makes her way upstairs, feet so quick it looks like she’s escaping a fire.

He sighs, trousers still down, and leans his head back against one of the cupboards, and lets out a pathetic laugh. He doesn’t know what would happen now that they’ve gone and fucked.

Was it fucking, really? It sure as hell wasn’t making love. No, it wasn’t, because if it were, he would know. He knew how making love to Y/N made him feel. He knew, because it made him feel like a brand new person– but now, standing in this kitchen, he feels angry. Angry, because he somehow thinks he’s gone and fucked it all up, their co-parenting arrangement, their calmer, more peaceful relationship now that he was in Thea’s life more and more.

He didn’t know what Y/N would think, or say now that it happened.

He doesn’t have time to think about it more, though, because she’s back when he’s buttoning his trousers, walking into the kitchen like nothing’s happened. But that’s the thing; something happened.

“She’s asleep,” she murmurs, walking over to the kettle. She turns it on, and tightens the belt to her robe. “Tea?”

And, Harry is pissed.

“Tea?” He spits. “Tea– we just fucked, and you’re asking if I want tea?”

“Harry…”

“What, Y/N?” He says, a crease between his brows. “You thought we would go back to how it was after I literally fucked you into oblivion?”

“Into oblivion?” She laughs. “Harry, come on.”

“No, seriously. What’s the plan here? How do we go from here?”

“It’s– I don’t know.”

“We had sex, Y/N.”

She shakes her head, and squeezes the bridge of her nose. “I know. I was there.”

“So?”

“I don’t know, Harry! I don’t know anything, okay? I wanted it, I needed it, and you clearly wanted it, too.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he murmurs under his breath. He looks around, then back at her. “I did. I always want it when it comes to you, and that’s the problem.”

“Harry…”

“What?”

She looks at her feet. “I’m sorry.”

“What for,” he takes a step forward. “What are you sorry for?”

“For this– this fucking clownery. It was my fault. I– I provoked you…”

“You did no such thing,” he places his hands on her shoulders, and squeezes there. She looks up. “You did not provoke me. I wanted it. We both wanted it.”

“It shouldn’t have happened.”

A beat.

“Why?”

“Because!” She shakes her head in disbelief. “Because of Thea. Because we put ourselves and our needs before her. I did. And I– I’m a horrible mother.”

“Fuck– don’t say that, come here,” he hugs her into his chest, and her tears hit his t-shirt like gunshots. “You’re an amazing mother.”

“Am I, though? I– I just fucked her father–”

“–Your ex-husband.”

“Harry, I think you should leave,” she sniffs, and wipes the tears. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not leaving until you calm down. Come on, sit down,” he helps her to the chair. She sits down. “Have a cup of tea. And then, I’ll leave. I’ll leave if you still want me to.”

“Okay.”

“Okay–” he nods, smiling down at her. “Okay.”

Harry pours the water into their mugs, and they drink their tea in silence, the only noise being the cars outside and the clock on the wall. He watches the way her hands hold the mug so delicately, like she’s trying to get as much warmth off of it as possible, and the way she closes her eyes when she sips from time to time, like she deems herself lucky for such warmth in the back of her throat.

She looks up after a while, hand on her neck as she scratches there, just like she does when she feels anxious. “This can’t happen again,” she says, whispers, more like.

“Okay,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“For Theadora,” she begins again. “For her, we need to maintain a healthy co-parenting… thing.”

“For Thea, yes.”

When the clock shows just after eleven o’clock, Harry gets his shoes on, and his coat, and she walks him to the door.

They hold each other’s gaze for a moment. Harry looks for something in her eyes, and he thinks that he finds it. But before he can say anything, a smile appears on her face, and she brings her body closer to him as she embraces him. Hands in the air for a second, he stops, though he’s quick to recover before he wraps his arms around her, placing his hands on her waist, and squeezes her.

They pull apart, and Harry smiles, too.

Just before he’s about to leave, he stops and turns around.

“Y/N?”

“Yes,” she mumbles.

“Just for the record,” Harry starts, a tiny smile on the corners of his mouth. “I don’t regret it.”

A beat of silence.

He looks up, she does, too.

He turns around, then hears her voice.

“Just for the record,” she says, waiting for him to turn his face. He does. “I don’t regret it, either.”

* * *

[finelinevogue]

the fact that Y/N has post natal depression Is somewhat refreshing idk I just don't see it talked about much on here and if it is it's like Hella angsty and the partner doesn't understand what it is but I was wondering if u could touch on it a bit more cause it's something I'm really scared about happening to me and I just want harry to hold me and tell me it's going be okay 😚😚😚😚

P.s. if u don't wanna it's understandable

anon: can u write about harry helping y/n through her ppd maybe like the 3rd time was so bad that h decide that he won’t be having more children

so this was requested twice so i would love to be able to write this for you both, hope this is okay - mind it’s heavily angsty!;

tw: vomiting, ppd and od

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 12 weeks

Motherhood was really fucking hard.

The birth of your newly born daughter, Isabella, had really taken a back pedal on your mental health. You had suffered with post natal depression after the birth of your two sons, but nothing as bad as this.

It had hit you around the 7 week mark after giving birth. The pregnancy itself was okay, even though she was slightly premature, but it was after you’d taken her home that it’d all spiralled downhill. It started with complications with her breastfeeding - like she was rejecting the milk that you had produced. It hurt to see her reject you and your body, finding more comfort in drinking from a pre-made milk bottle as her dad rocked her to sleep. You recall the evening so clearly and felt like an utter failure as you watched her drink a bottle of formula for the first time.

“Ssh ssh,” Harry cooed to your 7 week old daughter as he rocked her in his arms on the rocking chair in her nursery. She was whining because she was hungry, but the problem was that she wasn’t accepting your milk. She hadn’t been accepting your milk all day and now it was becoming dangerous for you to keep on saying ‘Oh i’ll just try later.’ Harry had told you to make a formula bottle for her. “Mummy’s coming.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you were walking back to the nursery with a warm bottle in your hands. You’d tested it on your hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot and then taken a sip to taste it, out of jealousy, and you thought that it didn’t taste any different to you. Then again you’re not a 7 week old human whose only date is milk.

“Look here’s mummy with your yummy milk, okay? Look Belles!” Harry cooed at his darling angel and you only wished he wasn’t as happy for her as he was.

“Yeah.” You spoke softly, handing him the bottle and standing nearby, part of you hoping that she would reject this too and she wasn’t just rejecting you.

But no, she drank the formula like it was her last meal.

“Such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” Harry praised her, watching her in awe as she kept on drinking the formula. Watching as she was drinking to become the strong girl you knew she’d become. It just hurt that it wasn’t you that could help her become that.

You felt powerless. Worthless, even. The one thing that you had carried the weight of your breasts around to do and you couldn’t even do it. Your nipples were so sore and your breasts ached so badly and it was all for nothing. Perhaps it was punishment for being such a bad mum. Perhaps you’d never been good enough for this job and it was your bodies way of shutting you down forever. You wouldn’t need the ability to produce milk anymore, because you weren’t worth the title of becoming one again. You wanted to be happy for your little one, seeing her happy but all you felt was rejection and sadness. She didn’t think you were good enough to be her mum and that really hurt.

Along with the breastmilk problem, Belle also became very stubborn when you wanted to change her nappy. Anytime you tried to change and help her she put up a fuss, kicking her legs and sometimes she would bite or hit you away. It was just a reminder that you weren’t a good enough mum for her and that she didn’t feel safe enough around you. She didn’t find comfort in your presence and she was so fussy about what you did around her. With Harry, though, she was an angel. She loved him so much and obviously he made her feel so loved and safe - something you’d clearly never be able to give her.

There was also the chores of being a mother to your other two sons too. Oli and Felix were old enough to understand that they had a baby sister, but they weren’t old enough to understand how miserable you were. Harry wasn’t even able to figure it out yet. You tried your best to put on your bravest face, knowing that your family needed you to be strong but the truth was that you were crumbling on the inside. You were feeling less and less like yourself and you were waiting for the moment when you’d completely fall apart. Nothing felt right anymore. Everything was just numb.

“You two boys okay?”

You walked into the children’s playroom see that they were sat at the little table colouring in. Felix’s little legs dangled slightly, whereas Oli’s legs touched the floor and it made your heart swell at how big they were both getting.

“Yep!” Oli cheered, scribbling with his left hand as his tiny tongue stuck out from his lips as he concentrated - a habit passed onto him from his father.

“What are you both drawing?” You asked, coming over and kneeling on the floor beside them and having a peek at their drawings.

“We’re colouring for daddy.” Felix answered, some of the words not being pronounced properly due to his young lisp and lack of being taught how to say things correctly yet.

His words stung though. You appreciated that he was only a toddler and he meant nothing evil or malicious by it, but it hurt to think that maybe, just maybe, your sons were doing this for their dad because he did so much more for them than you did. Of course you tried to be the best mum you could, but maybe you weren’t doing enough. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a mum after all, or at least not a good one.

“O-oh,” you tried to hold back the tears in your eyes because your boys looked so proud at their artwork - and you should be too. “Tell me about them then, my loves.”

Oli went first, “So this is me and this is Oli and this is dad. It’s us playing football like we did the other day, mummy.” He pointed out to each of the figures, some looking actually quite terrifying but you’d never have the heart to tell him that. The figures were all holding hands though and it hurt to think that you weren’t a part of that.

“Oh that’s so good Ols!” you rubbed his head of hair and then turned to Felix’s, “What about you Fix?”

“I drew daddy as the best.” He pointed to a trophy that the figure - more like a stick-man-slenderman - was holding, which was decorated with the award of ‘my hero’.

“I told him to write hero, mummy.” Oli added, and you smiled at both of them.

“Well done. Good job both of you. Daddy will love these!” You only wished that they would draw something for you. You hated to think that you were being petty, but honestly you just wanted to feel loved. “Shall I go cut up some apple for a snack, hey?” You asked, trying to feel useful.

“Daddy is making us smoothies!” Felix answered and you had to stand up, up and away from their heigh, so they didn’t catch the tears in your eyes.

“Okay! Don’t forget to give him those pictures - he’ll love those.” You praised them and they both giggled to each other.

The sight of your sons laughing should’ve made you so happy, but it only reminded you that you weren’t the source of their happiness. You weren’t on their mind enough to be their inspiration for drawings. You definitely weren’t their hero. You were just a woman to them, not a mum. You wanted to be so much more but it was clear that they didn’t need you. They were loved by their dad and each other, not in need of your heart.

Eventually Belle settled down and was sleeping better through the night, leaving you and Harry to much more peaceful nights sleep. Well, just Harry.

You had found it near impossible to get to sleep now. You lay awake at night wondering when Belle would next wake up, wondering when she’d next need you. Harry was always quick out of bed though, even if he actually was sleeping, to help her ordering you to stay in bed and rest yourself. You couldn’t help feel like he was telling you to stay put because he knew you wouldn’t be able to do your job properly - and you started to believe him.

You’d found yourself getting jealous of those that could get to sleep. When you were walking down the road you’d judge a person by how much sleep they looked like they got last night. You definitely looked like you only had 2 hours - even when you’d only had 37 minutes but who’s counting? Your dark circles were heavily noticeable, but no one cared enough to ask. Even Harry stayed clear of you more and more often; spending more time with the kids than you and sleeping on his side of the bed instead of yours at nighttime.

There had been one evening where you had been so restless that Harry had gotten so frustrated and left the room, with a blanket and a pillow, and slept on the couch. You’d never felt so much like a burden than that night. Your family was rejecting you and you felt like a failure. You were a success at failing in everything. The meals you cooked went half eaten by everyone because you would’ve forgotten to add a key ingredient. The children preferred to spend more time playing with their dad because you weren’t energised enough to play the games they wanted to. Your daughter still rejected your milk. It was all too much and you just wanted one nights peace for it to change.

Last night had been that night.

Fuck these were so addicting. You were finally getting the sleep that you so badly craved, only with the help of tablets.

You wanted the sleep because that was the one place you could escape to. You needed that escape to help you get out of bed the next morning. Life was too hard for you to not dream, and without dreaming you didn’t want life.

It started off with taking one every night before bed, but then they stopped working again, so you started taking two, then three. Four was obviously where your body hit its limit.

“Mummy? Can you come tuck me in please?” Oli asked, little toy giraffe in hand and shaking you in hopes of waking you up to send him peacefully off to sleep.

You’d gone to bed a bit earlier tonight, lying saying that you were extremely exhausted. Harry said he would be able to handle things and that’s when you excitedly ran upstairs to take your pills; 4 of them. You’d made it into your bed, feeling slightly drowsy after completing your nighttime routine, but then you started to feel unwell and really ill. Before you’d passed out you’d stuck your fingers down your throat in hopes to make the feeling in your stomach disappear, but it ended up you throwing up all over the bed and pass out right there.

“Mummy! Wake up!” Oli rattled your back, but you were still unresponsive.

Oli padded out of the room and down to his sisters room where he knew his dad was. Belle was being extra fussy this evening and Harry suspected it had everything to do with you retiring early. He heard Oli come into the room just as he’d gotten Belle down.

“Y’alright buddy?” Harry whispered, tip-toeing out of Belle’s room, leaving the door open slightly, and crouched down in front of him.

“No. Mummy’s not waking up.” Oli pouted, rubbing a tired fist over his eye.

“She’s probably in dreamland, bud. She was really tired today.”

“She’s really tired all of the times.”

“I know, Ol.” Because Harry did know, but he was too much of a coward to face up to the problem. The doctors had said that post natal depression can strengthen with every birthed child, but he was too blind sighted by the fact that you’d overcome the first birthed post natal depression so quickly, and was so in love with his baby girl, that he didn’t truly see how bad things had gotten. Harry had tried giving you some space, distancing himself from you in bed and spending more time with the kids so you could relax and rest up, but nothing seemed to be working. He was surprised, actually, that you’d been having better sleep recently and so was hopeful that maybe the worst of the depression was over.

Hell, was he so wrong.

“Go to bed, bud okay? I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Wake mummy up so she can give me a kiss.”

“I’ll try little man, alright?” Harry scuffed his sons hair and then watched him walk off to his room.

Harry walked into your dark room, the air smelling slightly sour, and walked around to your side of the bed. He sat down next to you sighed heavily. He needed to speak to you, no matter how tired or angry you’d be with him. He was losing you as a wife and a mother and a soulmate and a lover. He was just losing you, just as you were losing yourself and he was doing tip-toeing around the problem any longer. He was going to try and make this better. He was going to better understand how you were feeling in order to help you.

“Baby?” He spoke softly, nudging you gently, “Baby wake up.” No response. “Y/N, my love? Wake up for me darling, need to speak with you.” Normally you would’ve stirred by now but there was still nothing. “Y/N?” Harry shook you a bit more urgently now - one that would surely wake even the deepest of sleepers. “Y/N!” He shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly for the comfort of his children.

He turned you over and that’s when he knew this was very, very, bad.

Your face was pale grey and your mouth was covered in the remains of vomit, and he suddenly understood the gross sour smell from before. Your hair was greasy and stuck all in the wet sick all over your face. Your eyes were puffy from the remains of tears. You looked dead.

“No, no, no. Y/N! No you don’t.” Harry’s eyes starting weeping and he couldn’t think straight. He checked your pulse on your wrist and timed it - it was unhealthily faint. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were in your last beats of your heart. His tears and sobs were uncontrollable, but he had to be both strong for you and his children, as well as for him. “Fuck sake pull yourself together Harry. Okay, baby hold on please. Okay? You don’t get to leave me like this, you hear me? I love you so much, baby. Fuck i’m so sorry.” He gently placed your head back down on the pillow and pulled out his phone.

999

“What’s your emergency?”

“I need a-an ambulance p-please. I-I think my wife i-is dying.”

The rest of it was a blur for Harry. Him trying to wake you up. The ambulance arriving. Oli and Felix crying when they saw you being carried away on a stretcher. Belle’s deafening screams. Harry’s heart beating for the both of you.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was the rhythmic beeping sounds that woke you up.

Your whole body felt achey and sore, your head a pounding mess. You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting them to the light of the room. You expected to see the family photo on the wall opposite you and the white of your curtains, but you were met with a heart-monitor machine and a hospital bed instead. You looked down at your body and noticed a cannula in your arm, making you squirm because you hated stuff like that so much. Your nose had a tube running inside it too, feeding you the oxygen your lungs weren’t receiving properly.

It then dawned on you how you weren’t in the room alone. You saw a sleeping Anne and Gemma on the chairs in the far corner, with Felix and Oli tucked against their sides - Anne with Oli and Felix with Gemma. It was so cute to see them so cuddled up close. They looked peaceful. You took note of the baby pram that was at the end of your bed, most likely playing bed to your beautiful daughter. Your mind felt lost. You can’t really remember what had happened, apart from taking four of those sleeping pills. You fully remember the weight of feeling worthless and useless as both a mum and a wife, though, and that feeling was still very prominent.

Your eyes lastly landed to the side of you, where Harry was sat but also laid on your bed. The top of half of his body laid upon the bed, his head buried onto this arm deep within the bed, whilst his bottom stayed rooted to the chair. His hand was holding yours tightly, which was a sign that he wasn’t asleep. You were so scared to face him though. You had failed him, again and again and you weren’t sure whether you could be enough for him anymore. Enough for your family anymore.

You squeezed his hand three times saying ‘I love you.’

“Y/N,” He whispered so hoarsely, but you were so focused on him to even catch it. He looked ruined, and you’d done that to him. His eyes were dark and tired, but also red and puffy from where he’d been crying. His hair was a mess and you could tell it hadn’t been washed in a while. How long had you been out for? You felt rested in your sleep, but not in your mind or your heart.

“I—” Your breathe got caught in your throat, but you persevered to finish your words. He deserved to here them. “I’m sorry.” You were whispering so you didn’t disturb anyone else in the room.

“No, stop it. I’m sorry baby.”

“Harry don’t, you don’t have anyt—”

“Stop yes I do I—”

“Harry please you don’t owe—”

“Y/N listen!” He cut the little volley-conversation and ordered you to just stop. You started crying when you saw that he was too. “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now. Because I love you. Fuck, I do. I love you so much that when I found you unconscious in a pile of your own sick thinking you were dead, my only thought was that I wished it were me instead”.

“Harry, you don’t mean—”

“My god Y/N! You don’t get it, do you? I would do anything to switch places with you right now. I would suffer a thousand times over if it meant you were okay. I’d suffer in hell for you. Nobody else but you has ever made me feel like this. I married you because I love you and I want to wake up next to you every day of my beating hearts life. I chose to have children with you, because I knew how great of a mum you’d be and what beautiful people you’d help bring up into the world—”

“But i’m not.” You cut Harry short, trying to pull your hand away from him but he didn’t let you - only tightening his grip and pulling himself closer towards you. He was so close you could kiss him.

“Not what?” He asked, although he already knew the answer. You’d both had this conversation before, but you were both tired of it and were ready for it to be your last now.

“A good mum. I’m- i’m not a good mum or wife, Harry and i’m sorry.”

“I told you not say it and stop thinking it, because you’re completely wrong Y/N. You’re a good mother and a good wife, because you are a good person.”

“But i’m not great.” You whimpered, thinking back to the drawings your Oli and Felix had done. “I’m not the best.”

“But you don’t have to be, baby. You see our beautiful, healthy, happy and safe babies over there?” Harry turned to look at them, love in his eyes as in yours. “They wouldn’t be all those things, no matter how you feel about yourself, without you. I could never have brought them up to be half the people they are without you by my side, the way you make me a better person. You claim you don’t got this, but baby you’re already doing it and have been doing it for 5 years with our children and so much longer with me.”

“I’m just so fucked up Harry.” Your head tilted back on the pillow as you got heavily emotional over the situation.

Harry shook his head and moved his hand to cup the back of your neck, moving your head forwards until it met his. The touch of his skin against yours, no matter where and how small, made you feel alive and you’d missed him and that feeling so much. You missed loving him so much.

“Listen to me.” He ordered, keeping you still. “You are strong and you are brave Y/N Styles. No matter what you tell yourself I will be here every goddamn day of my life, if I have to, to remind you that you are worth more than your fucking weight in gold. You are my heart. You are my soul and the mother to my greatest achievements. I know they are yours too, just as I know I am your heart.

“You are.” You whispered so quietly under your breathe, but Harrys heart warmed when he caught you saying it. He knew though.

“Just let me love you. Let me be there for you. If you want medication then let’s do it, and i’ll be there for every step of the way. If you want to go to a rehabilitation centre for a bit, that’s okay we can—”

You shook your head and licked the tears away from your face. You were both such tearful messes, but the love between you was undeniable. “No, no please, no.”

“Okay, okay, love. We won’t. See, you’re okay. I promise, you’re okay. Stay with me, yeah? I’ll love you and keep you safe, just as you will me.”

“Promise.” You told him sincerely. He brought his lips to yours with that single word. He was so proud of your for being so brave and strong. He wishes he was half the person you were. His lips conveyed those thoughts of his and you could taste the love and passion burning through his heart and out on to his lips. He tasted like home. z he was home. Your lips smacked together messily, but you didn’t care because you loved each other too much and had kissed each other even more. Once you pulled back he stayed close to you, smiling at you with such awe. “I think.. I think I want to try medication please.”

Harry didn’t say ‘okay’ or ‘sure thing’, no. He said four words that meant more to you in that moment that any others in the universe. More than saying ‘I love you.’ Words that reminded you that not everything is okay and that sucks really bad, but you’re doing your best to get through it. It was a reminder that you had so many people who loved you and cared for you. It was a gun at the starting line symbolising that the journey ahead wasn’t going to be easy, but worth it.

“I’m proud of you.”

[missluckycharms]

What about nobody knows their secretly dating, but they’re always flirting. So one day all of their Friends are at a club and y/n gets on the dance floor and starts twerking and Harry comes up behind her and starts grinding and tapping her ass and all there friends are whistling.

This Little Secret Of Ours.

A/N: hiii! I made this into a best friends brother! Harry blurb and I also changed a few things. I hope you don’t mind! Enjoyyy !!

**I will be getting around to all your requests in the next few days, please be patient !! Thank you !! **

Warnings: suggestive content, mature language, alcohol consumption, Harry is a cheeky lil shit.

It started when Y/N was nineteen and Harry was turning twenty one. It was never meant to happen, but what could she do? She was attracted to him, and he was to her.

They have a connection that you cannot look past no matter how hard it would be for them to be together, they needed to make it work.

And they did, they’ve hid it from everyone for nearly two years now. No one even suspects the pair is together, they never leave anyone have any suspicion on if they might be together. They even go as far as having some little fake argument just to keep up the “we hate one another” image in front of all of their friends — Y/N’s best friend being in that friend group, Harry’s sister.

The only way that this works between the two, is because Harry has his own flat, he bought it recently and Y/N as basically moved in, she’s rarely at her shared flat with her other best friend — always saying she was visiting family for days at a time, but she was really hiding out in Harry’s small one bedroom studio apartment together, cuddled up under blankets away from the world.

Every Friday their friend group has a tradition: they all meet up at the local night club and catch up on their lives, talk about their week, have some drinks and just have fun. As they’re older, their lives are getting more hectic and they have less time together, so this little meet up each week gives them the chance to feel like teens again.

Today is like every other Friday, Y/N is in Harry’s getting ready, the pair fighting over the one bathroom, Harry running in ahead of her for a shower as she “takes too long” and she “has to shave her bits and bobs!” And it “takes for ages!” Y/N always fires back with her usual response: “you’ve long hair too! You don’t see me complaining when you take ten years to apply your hair masks and then give two washes of it all!”

That small argument happened nearly an hour ago, Harry laughed back and slammed the bathroom door in her face as she stands in only his bath robe, her towels in hand along with a new packet of razors she picked up on her way over here. She rolls her eyes and huffs turning around to head back into his bedroom.

“Might want to give it twenty minutes m’love, I used up all the hot water” Harry says calmly, walking out of the steamy bathroom in only a towel slung around his waist and another towel drying the ends of his long curls. Y/N looks up from her phone, her eyes narrow as they only have three hours to get to the club.

“This is why I go first!” She yells out, flopping down onto the bed in annoyance at her boyfriend who’s laughing while running some curl cream through his wet locks, his eyes focused on himself in the mirror.

“Gives you twenty minutes to have some Harry time!” He says wiping the residue of curl cream into his towel, his smile wide as she looks at him from where she’s laying on his bed, her lips in a pout and her brows furrowed in anger.

“I had plenty of Harry time this week, you were like a kid! Barely got any time to even pee!” She yells as Harry just laughs at her angry self, loving how cute she looks when her lips pout and her eyes roll with her pretty eyelashes framing them. He adores her, all of her.

The twenty minutes is spent by Y/N being tickled by Harry as she yelled and laughed loudly while he teased her for being ticklish, her body squirming on the bed as he hovered above her with his fingers tickling her ribcage causing her to loose control of her whole body and melt into a puddle of flailing limbs and loud screeches. Harry eventually let up his tickling, allowing Y/N to finally shower and start to get ready. He’s currently sat on his bed, ready to go in his black and white silk button up, black skinny jeans and some black leather boots. Y/N is currently curling her hair and applying some makeup as she stands in her outfit: a simple black silk dress with black heels.

“Look so beautiful m’heart, love the sparkly straps on your shoes” he points out when she’s finally ready, Harry sliding his phone into his back pocket to get a closer look at his girl, his hands snaked around her waist as he pulls back to rake his eyes up and down her body carefully, his lip between his teeth as he observes her.

“Thank you H, you don’t look too bad yourself. New shirt?” She asks reaching up and tugging on the collar a little, only three buttons done up on the whole shirt leaving his tattooed chest to show through with his many necklaces — what was more eye catching was how sheer the fabric was, allowing his butterfly and other tattoos to be visible when light is shined onto him.

“Bought it last week, more sheer than I thought but hey, who doesn’t want a front row seat to the nipple show? Huh?” He asks shaking his chest at Y/N, her eyes rolling as she slaps his chest playfully as he pulls her in for a kiss.

“Can’t kiss you until we’re back here, which won’t be for like, God knows how many hours” He mumbles against her lips as they kiss one another passionately and slowly, their hands roaming one another’s bodies as they take in every detail of each other.

“You always take me into the bathroom for a quick fuck or a make out session, don’t act like you don’t do that” she fires back with a tug to his bottom lip with her own teeth, a groans escaping his chest at her action, his hands squeezing her ass a little as he pulls her more into him.

“Keep talking like that and we aren’t going anywhere baby” he says lowly, his tongue licking over her bottom lip as she smiles against his lips, her hands roaming his chest, then his stomach and then down to his crotch, giving him a tight squeeze when she feels how hard he’s getting, Harry lets out an involuntary moan at the feeling, his hips pushing into her palm as she licks over his bottom lip slowly as she goes.

“Come on big boy, we have somewhere to be” she says pulling away, fixing her dress and wiping her lipgloss from Harry’s lips, her eyes looking at him innocently as if she didn’t just tease him and get him hard two seconds ago. He groans as she grabs her handbag, throwing a wink over her shoulder at him as she trots towards the front door of the apartment.

“You coming?”

“Unfortunately no” he says sighing, looking down at his erection in his tight skinny jeans, Y/N rolling her eyes at what he means.

“Harry, get out into the cab” she says tapping her foot against the floors, her phone buzzing with messages from the Uber driver that he’s outside and not waiting any longer than five minutes.

“Fine” he sighs, grabbing his house keys and sulking his way towards the cab, Y/N apologising for the delay and Harry just pouting like a toddler beside her as they head off to their night out with all their friends.

—

The night has gone smoothly, Harry and Y/N sitting at opposite ends of the table they’re all sharing in the booth, their eyes catching one another’s every few minutes but their slight eye fucking flies under the radar due to how dull it is in the club. Their friends are chatting, laughing and singing as they all sip their drinks and talk about nonsense, Y/N being dragged into conversation about how her job as a florist is going by her best friend Jada, while Harry is dragged into a conversation by their friend Chase about nonsense due to his drunken state — Chase loves to pre drink and now he’s drunk as fuck.

Harry is nodding and smiling along to Chase’s words, his fingers fiddling with his beer coaster in boredom, all he wants to do is have drunken chats with Y/N about nonsense like they usually do when they drink at Harry’s place, the pair having a bottle of wine each as they dish out random facts and stories from their childhoods and Harry’s one year long college experience — he dropped out because he couldn’t handle not being around Y/N, she was too far away from him and plus, his dorm mate was a nightmare.

He’s brought out of his small daydream of half listening to Chase while also mumbling along to the words of the song that’s blasting through the speakers in the packed nightclub, by his phone buzzing in his back pocket, he takes it out and keeps it under the table on his lap, looking down to see a notification from Y/N. He doesn’t look up as he opens it, his eyes widen at what the message says.

Y/N: mind if I shake my ass on the dance floor?

Harry: don’t you dare, your ass is mine and mine only. Don’t think about it baby love.

He looks up to see her looking at him, her lip between her teeth as she locks her phone, him mirroring their actions as they stop their small conversation. Her eyes are dark with lust, a tug pulling at the corners of her lips as she leans over to whisper into Jada’s ear. Harry watches her like a hawk, legs spread under the table, arms crossed over his chest and his head thrown back against the wall of the booth as he narrows his eyes at his girlfriend, her own challenging smile getting thrown back right at him.

Jada is the first to move, then Lola and then Y/N, leaving Harry at the other side being sandwiched between Chase and Niall, Niall is currently on the phone trying to speak to his landlord about a busted pipe in his house, but instead of going outside he insists to stay in here, he has a massive fear of missing out. That’s Niall for you. Harry watches Y/N like a hawk, his eyes never leaving her body as she holds onto both Jada and Lola’s hands, their smiles wide and they mouth along to the words of the song,

Her eyes are on him every now and then, her hips swaying as she dances with her friends, others around them dancing aswell as Harry doesn’t take his eyes off his girl on the floor, the lights flashing about and illuminating her every now and then as she moves to the beat of the song.

Harry’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets when he sees her bend over and begin to shake her hips, causing her ass to jiggle about as Lola and Jada spur her on, slapping her ass a little as she laughs loudly, looking over to Harry who’s now stalking his way to the dance floor, pushing past the crowd of people. Jada nearly slaps Harry when he picks Y/N up by her waist, flinging her over his shoulder as she laughs loudly, Harry shaking her head as barely anyone on the floor recognises what’s happening due to how dark it is, Jada and Lola following hot on Harry’s heels as he carries their best friend like a sack of potatoes back to the booth.

“What was that for?!” Jada yells slapping her brothers chest and bicep, her brows furrowed in anger as Harry now holds Y/N close to him his hands around her waist as they both look at Jada with small smiles.

“She was showing off what’s mine” Harry says with a smile, looking down at Y/N who scrunches up her nose with laughter, pecking his lips lightly as they both finally get to show love to another in public, in front of everyone.

“I knew it!” Niall yells nearly falling over the table, Chase whistling and clapping as he nearly passes out due to how much he’s moving right now.

“Only because I told you!” Lola fires at Niall who rolls his eyes looking at them all, Jada stood beside the pair not knowing what to say.

“We all had a feeling, we were just waiting for you both to say something; there’s only so many times we’ll believe your bra just some how ended up in Harry’s car” Jada says rolling her eyes with a smile, Y/N burying her face in Harrys chest in embarrassment over the story.

Jada hugs the two, immediately running up to order a round of shots in celebration of the new couple — well, not that new, but now they’re officially together in the eyes of everyone else. They couldn’t be happier and they couldn’t be more grateful that Jada didn’t lose her shit.

“Guess this little secret of ours is out, huh?” He whispers to her, her smile wide as she looks up at him with her arms slung around his neck holding him close.

“I guess so, boyfriend”

[shiftingwithava]

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫

dr: chris evans youngest sister

a/n: this was not posted by me, it was posted by chris in this dr. my origin story is based on a dream that i had when i was stuck on my backstory. i didn't script that i made this, but i thought it was one of the sweetest things ever, and wanted to include it on the blog. *picture is not mine, it is from pinterest and the closest one i could find to the one he actually used (it actually included all my older siblings and i) tagging @natashasera

chrisevans tagged: avabug, scottevansgram

liked by octaviaspencer, scottevansgram, and 2,379,802 others chrisevans I know I’m not the most open person in the world when it comes to my family, but I think it’s important that I tell you about the worst thing I’ve done in my entire life. 

This right here is my little sister Avalea, Ava for short. She was born February 23rd, 2006, when I was 28 years old. To say that I wasn’t shocked to become a big brother again at almost 30 would be a lie, but it didn’t make me love them any less. She was the most beautiful baby I had ever laid eyes on, and I vowed to protect them with my life. 

I didn’t do that. When she was 3, I got the role of Captain America, and the day I started preproduction also marks the day I disappeared from their life completely. 

I completely lost touch with her. Even when I was in front of them, I wasn’t present. I wasn’t the brother they needed, more importantly, I wasn’t the brother she deserved. Even during quarantine when I was just down the road, I never made an effort to see them and rationalized it by telling myself it was to keep her and her immune system that isn’t as strong as mine safe.

A week ago, I had just finished filming Ghosted, and was getting ready to fly to Orlando for a family vacation, and see my little sister for the first time in over 2 years. Then, my flight was cancelled. A little annoying, but nothing that my Ma couldn’t solve. It was decided I would ride down with her, Ava and Scott. 

I felt instant guilt when I saw her again. They’d grown so much, and I’d missed it. She wasn’t the toddler I’d left behind, they were a teenager. A beautiful 16 year old who barely knew me. No longer was she the sweet little 6 month old that I took to L.A. during preproduction for Silver Surfer, and bought her too many designer clothes and she definitely wouldn’t look at Tigger like he was nuts when we went to Disneyland on that trip. 

I knew I’d fucked up big time, but I didn’t know how to fix it. I thought that if I was just myself, everything would be fine, so I did just that. 

What I didn’t realize was in my “being myself” I was sending her into sensory overload, and then a meltdown. 

One of the most important things I missed in my years without her was that they have ADHD and are possibly autistic. Ma mentioned it to me a few times, but it flew over my head that was preoccupied with everything but my baby sister who needed me. We were in the hotel room in Nashville a few nights ago, and I was trying to make her laugh. I had been messing around with Scott, and decided to poke them to coax out a smile. 

It had the opposite effect. They were immediately sent into a meltdown, all because of my absence, ignorance, and attempt to make her happy. Being absent, I’d never seen her meltdowns and shut downs, and I won’t say that it wasn’t a shock when they kicked and pushed Scott away. 

Ma came in a moment later and took over, and all I could do to help was hand her their weighted blanket. I felt useless, but what made me feel

like the worst human in the world was when Ma asked her to say thank you to me for the blanket in an attempt to calm her down and get her breathing in check. She shook her head, and said no. When Ma asked her why they said “because he doesn’t like me. He’s never wanted to spend time with me and he probably hates me so why should I say thank you when it won’t mean anything to him?” 

I knew instantly I’d messed up beyond repair. I’d made them think I hated them. That I didn’t care, that I didn’t want to spend time with them, when that was far from the truth. 

My sweet, sweet, Avabug. I love you more than anything. When I see you, my heart explodes with love for you. You and I used to be best buddies. You were my baby girl. I’m not a dad, I don’t know if I will ever be a dad, but you made me feel like one. I’d never felt such happiness and love before you, and I haven’t experienced it with anyone else but you. I completely failed you sweetheart. I made you feel worthless and unloved. I made you think I hated you, when that was far from the truth.  You are my entire world. You always have been. I wish that you could read my mind because if yoj did, you’d be able to see and hear everything. Even when I was absent, I never stopped loving you. I never stopped rooting for you. I was here, separated from you, but waiting for those messages from Ma, Carly, Shanna, and Scott telling me that you won your dance competition. I was on the other side of the world, trying to compose a happy birthday message to you, but failing because I didn’t have the words. Because I didn’t know you. I am so sorry for what I did, my darling. I’ve had so many chances to fix this and I haven’t, and for that I apologize. Just looking at you, sound asleep next to me, while I type this is making me wish I actually was Steve Rogers so I could go back in time and fix the mess I’ve made. I love you, my sweet Avalea. you’re my bubba, my sweetheart, my baby. I’m going to try and fix this, no matter what that takes. I love you, my sweet baby girl. 💙

[acollectionofficsandshit]

Sneak Peek! Three Of Us

Max Verstappen x Reader (Single Dad AU)

September 1st, 2018- Monza, Italy

Italian Grand Prix, the Autodromo Nazionale di Monza

“We could go see Daniel’s car for a minute if you want, I’m sure no one would mind if we’re quick about it. What do you think?” All you get by way of a response is another shrug, but Kaia appears to have perked up, her gaze trained on something across the garage in the direction you had pointed, her blue eyes wide and unblinking, utterly fixated on whatever it was that had snagged her attention. 

She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t wriggle about in your arms in the sudden desire to be free like some toddlers were apt to, she doesn’t even seem eager to do anything more than sit and wait and watch. You had an inkling of what it was, or perhaps more accurately, who it was, that had Kaia so entranced, in fact you’d go so far as to call her transfixed, before you even looked over. 

“I should have known,” you roll your eyes at Daniel, who has a smug, playful grin unfurling across his face, his eyebrows arched in bemused, intrigued interest, and eyes bright, as if alight from within by the bevy of yet unasked questions that are already taking shape. 

You can practically see them all from here, simply piling up inside his mind, the stack growing higher and higher, threatening to spill topple over and spill out all over the floor, interrupting the neat, painstakingly painted red and navy lines of his and his teammate’s name and number that decorate the otherwise inconsequential, unremarkable concrete beneath your feet. 

“Well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes?” Daniel waves both hands, turned palm side up, at the pair of you, the gesture redundant when out of everything going on around your little trio, the only component out of the entirety of this weekend’s particular brand of chaos and of that always brought on by qualifying, all of which he’s seen a hundred and one times, is the sudden appearance of you and Kaia, but you refrain from going so far as to point this out. 

“A beautiful woman with a baby in her arms? The cameras are focused on the wrong thing if you ask me.”

Daniel is still dressed in his racing suit despite the fact that he’d been out of his car since the end of Q1, by no fault of his own, and yet he appears to be in no hurry to change out of his attire, and no doubt especially not now that he has something far more compelling to garner his attention. Kaia, to her credit, is absolutely unfazed by the new arrival, her attitude more that of an interested but wholly impartial observer. 

“Every time I think I’ve gotten used to the things that come out of your mouth, you never hold back when it comes to taking me down a couple of notches.”

“Hey, you don’t just love me for my perfect hair or my god like good looks, you also adore me for my personality, which you should because it is utterly flawless,” Daniel says with untenable certainty, though the remark has an air of diminutive dismissal clinging to it, already classifying itself without much consideration at all as nothing more than a cheeky throwaway response, made more out of habit than any actual, true intent. 

“You better watch it, Dan, if that head of yours gets any bigger it won’t just be your big fucking ass,” you mouth the words, trying to at least conform to the standards you intended to hold everyone else to when it came to swear words when Kaia was around, “that the mechanics struggle to find room for in that monocoque.”

“Oh, bite me, you know that’s a sensitive topic in the garage,” Daniel wrinkles his nose, putting on a show of good-natured frustration, “I’m still completely convinced the mechanics haven’t forgiven me for that whole situation.”

The beginnings of a crude gesture take shape before he evidently remembers himself, eyes going wide momentarily as Kaia tilts her head slightly to one side, doubling down on her silent but no less in-depth assessment of him, and all plans for his plans for giving you the finger or verbally expressing the same sentiment crumble to ash where they stand.

“Whatever,” Daniel says with a long suffering sigh, “I thought we’d been over this before.”

“Over what? You’ll have to be more specific than that, we’ve been over a lot over the years,” you reply, not even looking at him as you speak, endlessly more invested in watch Kaia, who seems to be gaining confidence in herself, with her death grip around your neck loosening by degrees, her head now on a permanent swivel as she takes in the hustle and bustle happening around her.

“That if you wanted a baby, all you had to do is ask me for one.”

“First off, don’t even start and second off, don’t get ahead of yourself because this absolutely is not like that at all, not even in the slightest.” 

“Then she’s- who’s baby- Wait, hold on, hold on,” Daniel looks utterly delighted, his face lit up like he’s six years old again and this latest revelation is the biggest gift under the tree on Christmas morning 

“She looks like- did you- bullshit,” he waves away your sigh in frustration at his slip of the tongue, too wrapped up in his little mental game of connecting the dots to care about anything else, “You sneaky fuckers!”

“Language!” You remind Daniel, more out of habit than any real hope that the correction will have any lasting effect on his vocabulary. 

If you were to be entirely honest with yourself, you’d written him off as a lost cause from the very start, already too accustomed to his pattern of speech and more than well aware of how deeply seated swear words were in his personal vernacular to fool yourself into thinking that could ever be changed. 

“Did you? you and Verstappen?”

“Yeah, when hell freezes over, that’ll happen,” you’re so startled by the conclusion that Daniel has come to that you’re entirely uncertain of what to say next, “why would you- how did you even- what? 

“What?” Daniel says defensively, but clearly enjoying the reaction he’s incurred so deftly.

“He can’t even look at me, let alone have a baby with me,” you’re itching to smack Daniel for that and likely would have if not for Kaia in your arms. 

The very premise of the idea is beyond laughable at this point, all but flagrantly dancing on the border between having been an astronomically cheap shot on Daniel’s part, one which he’d taken at an old wound that he knew refused to heal, even a year and a half on, and just bald faced flirting with the impossible, ridiculous possibilities that, at their very nature, were the height of sheer ludicrousness.

“I think you’d be surprised by the things Max wouldn’t hesitate to give you if given half the chance.”

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

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[chocolatecakecas]

Quality Family Time: Baby Jack ficlet

for the bah discord besties<3

In Dean's humble opinion, the week was off to a pretty good start. Sunday, he and Cas took Jack to the library and let him go wild in the children's section, then let him run off his "excitement about literature" in the park, ending with lunch at their favorite diner, which is Dean's humble opinion qualifies as a pretty great Sunday afternoon. And then Sammy and Eileen finished up their hunt earlier than expected, and they even brought back Claire and Kaia as a surprise. Meaning they got to all have a much-needed family dinner, movie night, and catch up with the girls. And they decided to stay for a few days, which meant extra babysitters, which really meant, he and Cas could have their date night this week. And of course it also meant Dean had a few days to just hang out with his family, watch some movies, watch his kids bond, run some stupid errands, cook some big meals. 

Now it was Wednesday, and Dean was spending the day with Eileen and Jack, while the others opted to help Sam with the supply run. Eileen was getting a movie queued up for Jack's nap, while Dean got a start on some laundry.  

(read the rest under the cut)

He was currently running out to the garage to grab the blanket he keeps folded in Baby's trunk, smiling fondly at the memory of Monday's date night.  

So yeah as far as Wednesdays go, Dean was having a pretty good one.

At least, he was.

Dean's stomach dropped as he flicked the lights on, barely registering the clang of his keys hitting the floor, standing frozen in the doorway.  

He's hallucinating, he must be. There's absolutely no way that-

He squeezed his eyes shut, counting to ten while he tried to will away the hallucination with his mind. But unfortunately for Dean, he didn't have that kind of mind power, because that thing was still sitting there when he opened his eyes.

Fuck.

Forcing his feet to move, Dean stepped further into the garage, reaching out a shaking hand as he inched forward. 

He'll just touch it and his hand will go through it, and he can blame this hallucination on that questionable burger he ate at some local joint they all went to last night. It'll be fi-

Dean's blood turned to ice as his hand connected with cool metal. He quickly jumped back in shock, jaw hitting the floor.

Because last time he checked, Dean didn't leave an 18 foot long Lightning McQueen sitting in his beloved Baby's parking spot. 

He tried to speak but all that came out was an incoherent squeak, as he raced around the car inspecting every inch of it.

He couldn't get any of the doors open or the hood for that matter, but as far as he could tell it seemed to be a real car, despite being a cartoon look-a-like. 

Well, at least it wasn't talking. 

"Ka-chow"

Dean slumped over onto the roof of the car, banging his head, fists following in defeat.

Because there was a Lightning McQueen look-a-like with a toy voice box, parked in the garage of their super top-secret underground Bunker, in place of one of his most prized possessions. 

Maybe he spoke too soon about having a pretty good Wednesday. 

Why is this happening? How did this thing get in here? Where is his Baby? Is she alright? Can he even get her back? How the hell did this ev-

Son of a bitch. 

"Jack!" Dean called, voice coming out more strangled than he'd care to admit. 

Of course. Cars had become Jack's new obsession over the past week, they first watched it on Friday night and he's insisted on watching it at least once a day ever since. 

Dean groaned scrubbing his hands down his face. There's truly never a dull moment with a half-Nephilim toddler. 

Jack probably didn't even realize what happened. Sometimes his powers react before his mind can catch up with them, like when he subconsciously made all of his toys come to life after Toy Story became his favorite movie. The kid probably didn't even know about the Cars wannabe parked in the garage, besides his kid would never tamper with Bab-

"Dee! You found Lightning!" 

Dean's jaw once again found its way back down to the floor. His own kid.

He turned to see his four-year-old come bounding into the garage, practically bursting with joy.

"What the hell"

Dean tore his gaze away from Jack to see Eileen frozen in the doorway, who's jaw also joined Dean's on the floor. 

"Look see it's just like Lightning, Dee!" Jack cheered as he ran over to check out the car, regaining Dean's attention.

"Uh...ye-yeah buddy. I-I can see that bu-" Dean began sounding pained, only to be cut off by Jack.

"It's a real car, Dee. You can drive it! And look I gots all the stickers on it too"

"Yeah kiddo, bu-"

"And it can talk too! It says all of Lightning's things! Do you like it Dee? Where you surprised?" Jack asked as he wrapped himself around Dean's legs, smiling up at him without a care in the world.

Dean still mostly in shock, glanced up at Eileen who looked to be in the same boat, except she was holding back barely contained laughter. 

Great no help from his best friend, traitor. So Dean shakily knelt down placing his hands on Jack's shoulders.

"Listen, Squirt. I was definitely surprised. But yo-"

"Oh my god"

Dean's head jerked up to see Sam, Cas, Claire, and Kaia now standing with Eileen in the doorway, dropped grocery bags spilling out onto the floor. All of them too stunned to move, except for Cas who luckily must have noticed the distress in Dean's eyes.

"Jack, Baby. What is this?" Cas asked, quickly making his way over to them, quickly kneeling down beside Dean.

"I made Baby into Lightning! Ta da!"

"Wait, that thing is my Baby?" Dean asked voice cracking. 

And of course, that's what did it.

Sam doubled over in laughter, Eileen, Claire, and Kaia quickly following, and Cas was beside him, clearly trying to conceal his laughter.

"God this is the best thing I've ever seen" Sam wheezed in the background, and if Dean weren't still reeling he'd walk right over and punch him. 

Cas placed a grounding hand on Dean's shoulder, all while trying to bite back his smile. Well, Dean appreciated the gesture, at least he was trying to be considerate, unlike some people he knew.

"Bug, do you remember what Daddy and I told you about using your powers?" Cas begins, trying and failing to sound stern.

"That I can't make my toys be alive! And I didn't Baby isn't alive, and she's not even a toy!" Jack explains with a smile. 

"Yea-yeah Squirt, but the second part of that little talk was that you shouldn't use your powers unless you ask Daddy, or me, or Uncle Sammy or Aunt Eileen, remember?" Dean supplied after he finally got his gears spinning again.

"Ooooohhh. Oops, sorry!"Jack shrugs and he even had half a mind to at least look a little bit sorry, but it's drowned out by another fresh wave of laughter.

"I'm so glad we decided to stay longer, does stuff like this happen all the time?" Kaia laughed behind him, as Claire wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Oh I'm so glad my distress is amusing to all of you!" Dean shot back, voice still a little unsteady, which only caused them to laugh harder. Cas met his eyes, as he squeezed his shoulder, scooting closer.

"Squirt it's okay, just uh don't do it again....now where exactly is the real Baby?" Dean asked cutting right to the chase, not missing the look Cas gave him for glossing over the whole "don't use your powers without asking" lesson.

But there was time for that later, because right now his Baby was currently a firetruck red cartoon racecar with eyes.

"That is Baby. I just made her look like that, it's her. See!" Jack explained jumping up and dragging Dean over. Everyone else followed suit, Sam giving him a shit eating grin as he handed Dean the discarded keys.

To Dean's surprise, the key unlocked the car just like baby, and the interior looked exactly the same.

"Wow kid, this is honestly pretty cool" Claire complimented with a low whistle, which earned her a death glare from Dean, only making her laugh harder.

Unbelievable. All of his kids have it out for his car today.

Dean heaved a sigh as he watched his family examine every inch of the car, not bothering to hold back their laughter at this point.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing we didn't watch How to Train Your Dragon" Cas quipped wrapping Dean in his arms as he pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Dean flopped over and laid his forehead on Cas's shoulder, letting a soft laugh escape.

"Yeah well, at least my car wouldn't have been caught in the crossfire" Dean groaned back, feeling Cas' laugh rumble in his chest.

"Yes I know this is a tragedy, clearly the real live dragons would have caused less damage-well less emotional damage anyway"

"Woah, look at that, he's got jokes. Alright everyone step away from the racecar" Dean smirked, yelling that last bit as he pushed away from Cas' chest. He made his way over to Jack who was currently in the driver's seat (keys nowhere near the ignition of course), showing everyone how the horn says McQueen catchphrases now.

"Alright Houdini, while the Lightning McQueen trick was very cool, and we've reminded you that we don't use powers unless we ask. It's time to turn him back into Baby, capiche?" Dean said in the most no-nonsense tone he could manage as he kneelt down to Jack's level.

And of course Dean's very logical, very simple, very warranted request resulted in an uproar from his family.

"Wait you aren't even gonna take it for a spin?"

"You've literally got thee Lightning McQueen sitting in your garage"

"Dean c'mon one dri-"

"Nope. Not happening. Now way am I driving that thing" Dean cut in, flinging his arms out for emphasis and effectively silencing the traitor-his family.

Then he felt a little tug on his shirt.

"Please Dee? One time, then I change Baby back?" Jack asked with his best puppy dog eyes, and Dean quickly made a mental note to kick Sam's ass for teaching him that.

And as he slowly tilted his head back up, he was met with four pleading faces, all hovering around the car He desperately turned his gaze towards Cas knowing he'd be the voice of reason, he'd neve-

"Well, it would be a waste not to take the car for at least one ride" Cas shrugged almost sheepishly, barely hiding his grin. Dean stared back into his eyes trying to will him to change his mind, but he knew it was pointless.

Dean sighed his defeat, running a hand down his face. Damnit

"Fine, one drive-and I mean one. Twenty minutes tops" He shouted, throwing his hands in air in exasperation as everyone cheered.

And when Dean found himself driving back to the bunker four hours later, he and failed tried to hid his smile. He glanced in the mirror at Claire and Jack passed out, while Kaia and Sam held a whispered conversation in the magically (which Jack may or may not have had a hand in) stretched out backseat. Eileen turned in the front seat joining the conversation, as Cas sat in the middle, pressed up against Dean.

Cas gave his hand a squeezing, shooting him a knowing smile, which only earned a nudge from Dean.

So yeah, maybe Dean did almost have a heart attack earlier in the day. And maybe he did have to let a bunch of annoying people in the next town over pose for pictures with the car when they stopped for dinner. And maybe the horn said "Ka-chow" and "I am speed". And maybe the drive was more than twenty minutes. But in Dean's humble opinion, it was still a pretty good Wednesday after all.

Lightning McQueen be damned.

Tag list pt 1:

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @subbydean @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without

@tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @icefire149 @dakiaty @seffersonjtarship @angeltiddies @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @jewishdeanwinchester @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @aestheticflyer26

@athenixrose @slipper007 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @thiscowboyisbisexual @carverera @milfcodeddean @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie

[swtki]

HP Boys: Surprise Pregnancy Head Cannons

Summary: The HP boys and their reaction to their s/o (afab) being pregnant when its not planned.

A/N: This takes place post Hogwarts so all characters are 18+, though no real smut happens in this so its not an 18+ fic.

WARNINGS: UNPLANNED PREGNANCY, MENTIONS OF PRO CHOICE OPINIONS, MENTIONS OF SEX IN LITE TERMS, SWEARING, FLUFF, MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL, ALSO THIS IS SUPER LONG SORRY LOL

Draco

So everything is going great for the happy couple, you two just moved into a flat together and are working normal jobs, drinking wine like adults.

And sure, Draco knows he wants to marry you, but he knows you’re not ready to settle down like that so he just plans and dreams.

Due to poor choices, when you’re late by two weeks, you know what it probably is.

Draco doesn’t even notice that you ran out to the store and came back and hid in the bathroom for 10 minutes. CEO of minding his own business ig

You just kinda...walk up to him and hand him all 3 tests while your eyes fill with tears because what if he demands you get an abortion?

Or what if he fucks off to god knows where?

But instead he just looks at you with the most un-draco like smile. Like his face was soft and it looked like he could cry any moment.

“Oh my god,” He says, putting his hand on your belly, “I can be ready for this, but if you aren’t then we can you know...”

“No, I want it” then both of you rejoice bc yay baby!

Cut to 6 months later when your feet hurt so bad you have to lay down and watch while Draco fails to put a crib together.

He eventually gets it done tho.

And when the time comes, he’s built and arranged everything for your bundle of joy.

Harry

So you guys are probably already married, but with everything at the ministry going on, it makes Harry less than a family man.

You both agree that it’s probably better to wait so you can be home and yk...raise it.

Well smart man Harry forgets that to not have a kid you need to use protection.

So of course when your period is late you don’t think about it, until its four weeks late.

That night, you and Harry are laying in bed, and thats when you tell him.

“Harry..I’m late.”

“Late for what?” headass.

You: 😳😐

Him: 👁👁😲😲

He’s hesitant to say anything, because he knows its ultimitley up to you what happens with it until its out.

“I think I want to keep it...you know it wont remember much for the first year and a half so if things are stressful it will be okay and-“

“Love...Its going to be perfect”

Mf built the crib in like 45 minutes I swear.

And of course he forced you to keep up with your vitamins, pre natal care, and appointments.

Swear tho you’re about to kill him because cofFeE

But the way he holds your baby 🥺 its his most valued thing ever now.

Ron

Ron is iffy on the kid thing sometimes.

He does want them, but only later when you guys have lived and travled.

So no, you two haven’t planned nor is it even in the picture when your wedding roles around.

It’s in the early days of the marriage when you see his family at the burrow on the way back from the honeymoon.

And of course Molly knows

Because Weasleys are hyperfertile I swear.

She takes you into the kitchen and puts her hands on your arms, shes got that big Mrs.Weasley smile on too.

“I knew it!” She says and pulls you in for a hug, “How far dear??”

You’re just standing there like🧍🏻

“I can see it by the way you glow! Oh my you and my Ron must be so happy!” This woman doesn’t notice that you’re confused.

“Wait what? Mrs. Weasley what are you-?” Then you count the days, “Oh. Well I guess I just found out for myself”

Her face falls slightly, but then she tells you can make you a potion that will tell you if you are or not, stan.

The stupid potion turns green when you spit into it, so everything is confirmed.

That night, you and Ron are getting ready for bed in the guest room and you decide to tell him.

“Ron, sweetie. We need to talk.” He looks like he’s gonna start crying but sits next to you on the bed.

“Y/N...I know its scary but please, we just got married I don’t want to divorce quite just yet 🥺🥺”

“Ron I-“ you start smiling, “I’m pregnant you dufus.”

He just freezes, for a while. Not saying anything, he just looks at the wall with his mouth ajar.

So you get up and go to Ginny.

“Gin, I broke him.”

“Ew, I don’t want to know about how you and him”

“No, I told him that I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, yeah that would do it. Just I don’t know... Give him a minute?”

You give him several, getting a glass of water then heading back up to the room.

Ginny was right, he needed a minute.

“I don’t...I wasn’t...you were.?”

“You don’t have to stay, but I think we can do it. Plus, you would disapoint your mom if you left so...”

“Okay...we’ll do it. I’ll be the best damn Father you have ever seen.” He says, talking to your womb.

Well...he’s a father I’ll give him that.

Pro of having a Weasley baby: free crib thats already put together.

Even if it looks like a death trap.

“We’ll put some blankets over it don’t worry”

You know how some Dads hold their parters hand during the delivery? Yeah he got sick and was moral support from the outside.

To be fair, you weren’t screaming in pleasure by any means.

Scary. But beautiful.

He shows the kid to everyone, he might be more in love with the baby than he is with you.

Ron see’s the appeal of having kids now.

Neville

Moving in with your boyfriend is always fun, right up until you guys go at it so much you forget protection more than once.

You think about it, then move on with your day.

Until the doctor calls, then “oh fuck”

Romance Neville bf

“Why aren’t you having any wine? I thought it was your favorite?”

“I don’t think fetal alcohol syndrome is my favorite.” BRO HE SPAT

But he looks up with tears in his eyes, and runs over to you to grasp you in a hug.

“Oh my god! You’re pregnant! Oh my - We’re gonna be parents!! Oh my god we’re gonna be parents oh-“ Que you petting his hair till he’s calm again.

Lets be honest, this man probably swapped the herbology books for the parenting guides.

“Well I mean I’m just wondering if we should go with this color or this one”

“Nev, it doesn’t matter. Our baby will not care.”

“I read in my book that Infants actually can recognize mood in-“

He won’t let you do anything during your pregnancy.

Gotta love a man who cries because he loves you so much and you’re having his kid.

“I never had a father, what if I do it wrong? What if the baby hates me and runs away at seven?”

“We’ve got quite a lot of time before then.”

He was there during delivery, letting you crush his hand like a champ.

You can’t help but cry when you see him sleeping on the floor next to the crib, its so sweet.

Fred

You two most likely already had two kids, so you decided to wait a bit so your hands weren’t quite full.

Well...your body decided not to wait.

A test provides the two lines, another wild child.

The two toddlers already run around like thing one and thing two, only with red hair.

I think Fred would gladly make the family dinner, and wear an apron. He’d own it, as he should.

But mf gotta not drop the salad bowl when you tell him of the fetus inside you.

“Fred we are going to have a bee-ay-bee-why.”

Your five year old has just begun to spell 😐

He’s happy tho.

Like over the fuckin moon.

He buys the two kids big brother/sister shirts too 🥺🥺

He knows the drill pretty well, so he isn’t too worried about the future.

But its funny that he still freaks out about the crib and feeding chair since he gave it away, you know because you guys werent having another kid.

He packed a hospital bag and kept it in the trunk, counting down the days.

Hours of delivery (He just sat back and held your hand) only to end up with a room full of 7 Weasley family members.

Fred always said that 3 was his lucky number :)

George

You guys were taking it slow, no marriage until you both felt it was time. And certainly no children before that.

Well you know...things changed when the test was positive.

You slid it over on the table, tears pooling in your eyes. He was stunned and quiet, which made you burst out sobbing because you knew that neither of you planned on having a baby.

But to your surprise he starts to smile.

“I want whatever you want, I’m staying by your side no matter what.”

“I mean...would it really be so bad? A house, a kid, a dog?” He holds your hand as you think aloud.

You both give it a week to think it over and the virdict is to keep it.

Thats when he decides he has to marry you, asap because he loves you and will never let you go especially now.

He loves to gush about the carrier of his child, to him you are a godess.

He’s the Dad with a predestination complex.

“Y/N, I just see him being a star quiditch player”

“George, we don’t know if it’s a him.”

He rolls his eyes “Okay then I can see her being a star-“

He made Hermione take you out for a movie date so he could rearrange your bedroom, since you only had a single bedroom flat.

You come back to a new set up including a cot.

Damn pregnancy hormones make brain go 🥺😭😭

He freaks when your water breaks lol

ceo of driving like a maniac to the hospital.

He can’t hold your hand, he’s pacing back and forth, sweating and maybe crying though he’ll never admit to it.

You get the joy of watching him cuddle the baby while refusing to give your child to you.

“George I’d like to hold-“

“No, you need your sleep honey, don’t worry”

Hogging the child.

Cedric

Its no secret that Cedric wants a baby someday.

And he makes it clear your wedding will be spectacular too.

However, finding out you’re pregnant the week of your dream wedding was a shock.

A shock that made you bang your head into the wall because how could you be so stupid?? We had a plan??

So you decide to wait until after the wedding, that way it wont add onto the stress (happy stress) of the wedding.

Cedric keeps trying to fill your glass at the reception, to which you kindly refuse saying you want to remember the night entirely.

Yeah he’s like 🤨 mhm okay.

You can only pick at the dinner because ew salmon doesn’t sound like an option if you want to keep the contents of your stomach.

As everyone waves goodbye to the car, and you both set off into married life, he leans over.

“I may be out of my mind, but are you...?”

“Pregnant.” His face lights up, pulling you into a hug.

Finally, your car pulls up to a small cottage with lush garden scapes all around, putting a hand out, he walks you both from the car to the door.

“Ced, where are we?”

“Home.”

Somehow it was perfect with Cedric, even when it was rushed.

He loved talking to your womb, even if it was weird that he was talking about the babies future brothers and sisters.

“Cedric, slow down. We haven’t even had this one yet”

Basically he is father of the year before he’s a full father.

He’s there while you deliver, holding your hand and telling you how great you’re doing.

He doesn’t even complain when you insult him <3.

He updates you on everything.

If his eyes aren’t on that child, he’s either asleep or dead.

I think Cedric was meant to be a family man, because he loves everything about being one.

Taglist: @truly-insatiable @amourtentiaa @imdoingathingmom @annasdani @anchoeritic @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @cedricsyellowscarf @faeinorbit