#welcome back James! 🙏🏻

[jv-f1]

“Just arrived in Bahrain to kick-off the season. I can't wait to see the FW46 take to track for the first time tomorrow! 🇧🇭”

— James via Instagram

[multishipperofgaydeadwizards]

Thinking about James/Remus and seriously questioning why it's not a thing cause

1) the whole sun/moon lore I was talking about earlier

2) their shipname would be somn like "moonchaser" or "sunreader" or somn

3) it fits right into the running gag that James has a thing for people being mean to him

4) imagine all the possible angst mhmm mhmm Remus pining over James, finding out he likes his best friend, finding out she likes him back, losing him again and again ooooohhhhh just

5) but they're also perfect cause all Remus ever needs is to be loved and all James knows is to love someone else

6) ok but leave the angst, focus on the fluff. The possibilities omg friends to lovers just this time (minus all the usual angst that comes in wolfstar) and they're both just dumb oblivious idiots in love and it's so cute

7) thinking about all of this now I think what you said is right, people don't ship Remus with anyone other than Sirius but I think that's cause Sirius actually doesn't have many ships left then? Cause think about it like this: Sunreader, Bartylus, Marylily, Evan and Emmeline, Panda and Xeno, where does that leave Sirius? Sure Pete is there but...

8) ooooh ok going down this pipeline, for your consideration: Peter and Sirius. Omg it would make the "Sirius put in trial instead of Peter" thing sooooo much more ansgty ohhoo my brain is reeling rn

9) ok focusing back on moonchaser. They would make such a cute couple honestly. James would read all the books Remus reads and leaves lil doodles for him to find later. He would go to all the quidditch practices he can to support his bf. And he would right poetry and stuff about how hot James is.

10) ohhh They would share glasses omggg poor Remus grows up thinking everyone has shit vision then one day he wears James's as a joke and voila the world in HD

I'm so ngl, your influence on my brain has become on the best influences it has ever had cause omg all this potential all this angst and fluff I love this new me mhmm mhmm

hsirbdij omggggg I love this sm!!! thank you for sharing your brain with me.

sunreader sounds so gorgeous. I'm going insane. I love love LOVE the name!

1) yeah are literally the sun and the moon! they are perfect!

3) lmao. so true. I love the idea of remus being super sarcastic towards james and james swoons at every mean comment and tries very hard not to (he fails miserably)

4) urghhhhh not the unrequited feelings while having to be a supportive bestie trope (my beloved). I can imagine how mad it drives remus to watch them like each other, but being to scared to admit it. imagine the heartbreak when remus sees harry alias the combination of his parents

5) yesss. remus needs someone to love him even through all of his flaws, someone who isn't his parents and james who is literally the embodiment of love

6) "everyone can see it, but them" trope fr. it's them idfk

7) you make a fair point, but there are sooooooo many characters living in the marauders characters that no one ever uses. you could ship sirius with so many characters that no one ever talks abt (I'm currently working on a post with all the characters that I could find so that they're all in one place)

8) peter and sirius my loves <3 no one talks about them (me included whoops-). they have such a big angst potential that people just seem to be ignoring (once again bc most people refuse to leave the wolfstar bubble and just refuse to ship peter with anyone in general)

9) they would be the definition of tooth rotting fluff. they would make everyone sick with how sweet they are. couple goals fr

10) remus is me fr. the day I got my glasses was eye-opening lmao

glad to see that I have this kind of effect on people. I said it to you before but I'll say it again: welcome to the way more funnier side of being a multishipper hehehehe

also: I think I'm in love with you. marry pls, I'm begging 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 (/j... unless)

[tatesdiary]

hey babe!! ur work is totally awesome!! could i please get a james march fluff? thank you smm

After dark

James Patrick March x f!reader

summary He was a cruel, cruel man to everyone - but you.

word count 433

tags mentions of violence, maybe inaccurate jpm (haven't finishes the season yet oops)

a/n thanks for the compliment <3 as stated before I actually haven't finished the season yet, so this could be a little inaccurate in terms of his character! Just a heads up. I hope what I have seen is enough to make this to your likings 🙏🏻 and yes it is quite short but I think it's good like this :)

You'd spent all day lazing around, drinking and people watching. It got more boring every day to wait until your partner would be back from whatever he was doing (half of the time you don't even want to know).

Sighing you fall back on your bed and fiddle with the tie he'd discarded upon it last night. It didn't have any special patterns, it was a simple and plain black. But you've learned to love the simple things about him - his murderous doings cast aside - which included his never wavering crisp, white dress shirts with matching pants, shoes and ties.

His hair was always slicked down, no hair out of place, and his mustache was perfectly groomed as well. Over time you'd learnt he appreciates a good exterior as much as a good glass of whiskey after a long day.

Dramatically groaning you drop the piece of cloth and sit up, supporting your weight through leaning on your hands. He'd be there in no less than twenty minutes but there was nothing you had left to do and you were bored. The TV was running on some random talk show that you'd lost interest in long ago, serving as background noise and defeating the silence lingering in this suite.

You decide to get up and pour yourself a drink instead of continuing to lounge around, the tie now in the laundry basket with some other bloodied shirts and pants.

You hum something to yourself as you watch through the window as the busy people hurry by, not one glance spared at the ominous building looming over the street.

You don't hear as the door opens and closes, his steps silenced by the carpeted floor. "What are you doing, darling?" He hums and wraps an arm around your waist, standing next to you.

There's a smile on your face as you set the drink down and wrap your arms around his neck, "Welcome back, my love."

He chuckles and lays his other arm around you too. "I have not been gone that long, have I?"

Making a thinking face you shrug, "Every second you're gone is too long." You settle on. It makes him smile and he cocks his head to the side, "Perhaps you should seek out other people to be around than just me? It will do you good," he jokes.

"I think you're enough for me. I don't need anyone else." Humming he gazes at you lovingly, his warm brown eyes showing no sign of harboring a hobby as dark as his.

"Let's end the day with a drink, my beloved."

[joanquill]

"Damn... That's a lot of blood..."

#22 William Moriarty, others Romantic Hurt? Fluff? Not sure if I picked the right things but, my general idea is Williams S/O gets injured badly somehow maybe on a mission or maybe she was a target of a noble, “Darn it, that’s a lot of blood”, frantically takes S/O to help. Please and thanks! 🙏🏻😄

William James Moriarty

A/N: Hey, sorry for the messy blog settings! I was trying to make this a main blog but I couldn't :') ALSO THANK YOU FOR THE 300 FOLLOWERS!💕💕

Warning/s: Blood, Profanity

You hummed to yourself as you walked into your bedroom, luring the intruder with you.

You sat in front of your dresser, pretending to get ready for bed, and saw the intruder slip inside into the shadows.

"How boring..." you sighed as you grabbed the gun hidden in your dresser, watching as the intruder got close to you.

"All alone, hm?" you smiled at the intruder through the mirror, meeting his eyes.

Before he could react, you turned around, pointing the gun at him and shooting his arm.

"Who sent you?" you asked the intruder with your feet on his chest and pointing your gun at him.

"Don't make me ask again," you frowned, stomping on his chest as he groaned in pain.

"Who..." you loaded your gun, "...sent you?"

The man glared at you and smirked, breathing heavily from the pain.

"...Fuck you," he spat before stabbing you in the leg with a knife repeatedly.

You screamed as you lost balance, letting him harshly push you away.

The man was about to run out of your room before you grabbed his ankle, making him trip.

"Nu-uh," you chuckled as he dragged you, painting your floor red.

"You're not getting out of here alive,"

You sighed as you slid down on the wall, holding onto your leg as the man fell on the floor, choking on his own blood.

"Milverton, huh..." you grunted as you heard the door opening and familiar voices, sighing in relief.

"Welcome home...!" you shouted as loud as you could as you fell onto your side, placing yourself into a more comfortable position.

You heard the voices become silent as footsteps echoed all over frantically.

You looked down at your leg, getting discolored as blood dripped from every stab down into a pool of red.

'Damn... That's a lot of blood...' you thought as you shook your bloody hand.

'Ugh...!' you thought in disgust, your leg looking like it belonged to a corpse from the discoloration and spots as you poked it, feeling nothing.

You looked back at the intruder, seeing he was now completely still as his blood continued to cover the carpet.

"..."

"...!..."

"(Y/N)...!" you heard someone call out as they opened the door, letting the light in.

You hissed as the light blinded your eyes, seeing a silhouette as you were lifted up.

"Can you hear me...?" the person asked, blinking your eyes to adjust to the light.

"William..." you muttered, seeing the familiar blond hair and red eyes as he treated your wound the best he could.

"(Y/N)...!" he breathed out in relief as he looked up at you in worry.

You looked back down at your leg and looked up at him, pointing at it.

"...Do we have to cut it off...?" you asked, surprising him.

"I... I'm not certain... But we might have to," he answered, chuckling in disbelief as you smiled.

"If we do... Tell Herder I get to pick the design..." you muttered before going to sleep and hugging his neck, cuddling into his chest.

William sighed in relief as he picked you up.

"All right... But hopefully, it does not lead to that," he muttered as he hurried you to the hospital.

[melis-writes]

prompt idea: Victoria giving birth. again. 😂 but a little different this time:

about 20+ years after they first met, Michael and Victoria are having a family/friends/community/business contacts gathering. (it could be one of Tom or Sonny's grandkids first communion, Michael getting honoured by the church such as in tg3, one of their own kids' comemmoration... is up to you)

a dilf Michael (im drooling just thinking of it) and a boombshell mature Victoria are more in love with each other than ever. their kids have grown and are tracing their own paths (carreers, relationships, grandkids... i'll leave it to you.) and momma Vic is heavily pregnant again in her mid to late 40s, much to everyone's (including their own) surprise.

Michael is completely enchanted by the sight of Victoria expecting again after so many years. and more worried than he has ever been with the potential risks of it. the kids (adults and teenagers by this point 😂) are shocked but extremely happy with the idea of welcoming a new sibling around, and have all eyes on their mom.

a not very amused Victoria sneaks away a little to take a breath of fresh air by herself and ends up with a broken water. Michael and the kids soon realize she's missing and start blamming one another in a very funny scene, only to find Victoria in her bedroom, calmly breathing through her contractions and strangely excited trough the pain, making all of them freak out.

to late to arrive at the hospital, the baby is born there, assisted by the family in the middle of lots of nervousness, laughter, happy tears and unconditional love. With Michael and Victoria more than happy overjoyed to do it all over again with the litte Maria Chiara Corleone.

"you are suffocating me and the child. they're gonna be born already pissed at you"

"how many times i told you to not lose sight of your mother? so many eyes for not even one of it to watch her"

"michael, i should be the one freaking out...AH! just give me your hand"

"hai benedetto ancora una volta la nostra casa, mia regina. una ragazza, tanto tempo dopo verona. Ti amo, Vittoria"

Honestly with these two, I’m not surprised at all Victoria would be pregnant again. 😂❤ Love this!! ❤ A more mature pregnancy down the road with the children mostly all grown up! Lots of excitement in the air to welcome a new little baby to the family, awwwww!! 😍🙏🏻 20 years later means Victoria is about 45, and Michael is 49, Niccolo and Verona are 19, Vincent is 13 and James is 12!

1969 not only marks the year Niccolo and Verona turn nineteen with the end of another prosperous decade for your family, but also with the anticipation of your children’s acceptance to university accompanied with another surprise altogether.

Gathering today with both the Corleone and Ferrari families to celebrate the arrival of two university acceptance letters to mark a new path in the twins’ lives at your family villa in Rome with nothing but excitement in the air.

Niccolo and Verona’s success in both their lives, academics and personal hobbies have brought nothing but enough to boast about on you and Michael’s behalf for two lifetimes.

As champagne and other refreshments are served before the beginning of the family celebration, hearty conversation is made from various families as Niccolo and Verona grin at one another, toasting to sibling success.

Michael, now forty-nine and aged like fine wine; a few grey streaks through his otherwise lighty gelled, brushed back and neatly styled hair—is dressed in an immaculate tuxedo—continuing his lifetime streak of standing out at any celebration or party he attends whatsoever.

Michael’s attention is neither on the various refreshments being served around or indulged in a conversation with one of his brothers or in-laws.

Rather, Michael’s eyes are affixed towards the foyer where he knows you’ll be walking in from at any moment; just putting together the last pieces of your formal outfit for today which of course will have to accommodate for your almost nine-month old baby bump.

You and Michael have cracked smiles and chuckled here and there whenever you two have heard people say Michael and you have “aged like fine wine” with maturity in your appearances looking better than ever, but it couldn’t possibly be closer to the truth than it already is.

Just as Michael sees you approaching now, blushing at the sight of seeing your husband first while you rest your hand over your baby bump, Michael comes to realize yet again just how deeper he’s fallen in love with you as the years have gone by.

Of course the first few years of becoming a mother and father and experiencing new parenthood were critical and blossomed an entirely different love between you and Michael about twenty years earlier, but also watching all of your children grow up, succeed, and finally come down to celebrations like this is so much more than you and Michael could have dreamed of.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Michael murmurs softly as you approach him and he takes your hand in his. “There you are.”

“Almost fashionably late, right?” You blush, pecking a kiss over Michael’s lips. “You wouldn’t believe what a tight fit most of my dresses have gotten lately.”

“Does it matter?” A faint smile forms on the corners of Michael’s lips as he keeps an arm around your waist gently and gazes down at your baby bump. “As long as you and baby Maria are comfortable, the rest of the world can wait when it comes to your clothing choices.”

“Oh, please,” you giggle, amused by Michael’s comment as the two of you stand side by side now, beginning to attract attention by your families.

“Mom’s here!” Niccolo points out, raising his champagne flute to your direction. “And so is baby Maria, I see.”

Light chuckles come from the crowd as you notice your brothers, nieces, nephews and in-laws happily taking a peek at your baby bump as you hug onto Michael’s arm.

“It’s not me being the center of attention today,” you call out, jokingly. “Go on, who else are we waiting for?”

“If you say so!” Verona beams, happily clutching a specially marked envelope with the university’s name concealed next to her twin brother.

Since the twins were sixteen years old, they became more and more affiliated and knowledgeable about the ‘family business’ on both the Ferrari and Corleone family’s behalf.

You and Michael wouldn’t accept the twins to know much of anything until that age, and the same applies for Vincent whose now thirteen—scurrying off from his grandparent’s side to stand next to Michael with twelve-year-old James following and proudly standing next to you.

It’s not that Michael had been expecting Niccolo to change his mind about joining the family business even though he’d been jokingly calling himself “the Don” since he was a toddler, but that Michael encouraged his children to also pursue their own careers and lives instead of completely giving it to the family business as Sonny did.

Niccolo’s stance was firm; he wanted to pursue business at an Ivy League university while working in the family business, then focus on the family business full time after graduation with his own pursuits, investments and businesses on the side.

Verona on the other hand had always expressed wanting to “help people and make them happy” when she was just a little girl.

She was forever inspired by her late grandmother Ludovica’s selflessness as a nurse in her younger years, but decided to pursue a full career in medicine as a private physician instead of enrolling at nursing school.

When it comes to the idea of the family business, Verona doesn’t want to be entirely involved—at least not like her many uncles—but she wants to assist in any way that she can and make it known she’s not trying to hide her name in either family business.

All in all, Verona’s wishes are to have a proper life balance with her own career but if one said Niccolo and Verona aren’t interested in being powerful figures of their own right in the underworld, that would be a complete and utter lie.

Vincent on the other hand admires Michael and you as a role models in all aspects of his life and reminds you much of yourself and Verona in terms of personality and future goals in his life.

Teasing Niccolo and Vincent over resembling their father’s definitely paid off in the future as when James was born, his strikingly similar—almost near identical—looks to Michael surprised everyone and brought out all the more jokes that Michael’s genes were strong enough to make identical, mini replicas of himself.

Vincent and James have both just started middle school, but as Vincent began to grow, his appearance resembled a good mix of both you and Michael’s, whereas Verona looked much more like you with some similarity of Michael’s features too.

Michael and you already know you’ll be hosting a celebration just like this for when Vincent and James begin to apply to universities of their choice—welcoming them into adulthood and paving out the path of their future, celebrated and loved by everyone in the family.

When your family, colleagues and friends were on the topic of how utterly proud they were of your children’s success and how they just grew up so fast, conversation quickly (and with many giggles) also went to the fact you’re now pregnant with your fifth child at the age of forty-five.

After you gave birth to James in 1957, you and Michael continued on being extra careful about safe and unsafe days, when you were ovulating and when to use protection during sex.

In about late 1960 when the first oral contraceptive was introduced, it was the only method of protection you used resulting in twice the sex (much to both you and Michael’s insistence) right up until you missed a few pills earlier this year resulting and very much so surprising Michael and you with a pregnancy at this age.

Almost nine months into the pregnancy now and Michael still looks at you with nothing but pure awe and mesmerization, seeing you pregnant with his child yet again.

Instead of being shocked and going, “really?! Again?!” just as your friends and other family members did, when you told Michael the news of your pregnancy, you saw a warm and genuine smile form over his face and then surprise.

Still, nothing’s changed in terms of Michael’s overprotectiveness and extra care during your pregnancies, and if anything, it’s tripled now into worry as Michael knows there’s double the risks during a mature pregnancy.

Even amidst the jokes the children were making, the twins, Vincent and James were overwhelmed with joy at the news of welcoming a new baby sister—as sufficient technology came into light to determine the baby’s gender as the years went on too.  

Now that the children were old enough to know and be aware of your pregnancy, their eyes were on you and the upcoming arrival of their new baby sibling too.

“Alright, alright, one moment.” Niccolo raises his champagne flute to his lips, taking a long sip which envokes chuckles from the crowds of your family. “Ah, that’s better. You know I needed to, because—” Niccolo sets down his drink, waving his acceptance letter in the air. “I woke up to twenty more of these in the mailbox.”

“Nobody likes a bragger, Niccolo.” Verona jokes, nudging her brother gently with her elbow.

“Unless it’s you bragging, right, sis?” Niccolo chuckles, “come on, come on. Open up that letter, I don’t know which one you can accepted either.”

The twins exchange equally ecstatic looks with one another as you begin to feel some discomfort from your pregnancy and let out soft, deep, breaths while trying to focus on their announcement.

Niccolo and Verona both carefully tear open their acceptance letters, pulling out the neatly folded paper inside informing them of their success in enrolling and that both universities of their choice wish to welcome them to their first semester starting in the fall.

“I’ve always wanted to pursue a business degree for as long as I could remember,” Niccolo begins, clearing his throat. “And even though I’m grateful to all of the universities around the country that I was able to enroll in and learn more about as a prospective student, only one stood out to me from the very beginning.”

“And it’s no surprise to anyone how I’ve always wanted to go to medical school—take up after my late grandmother whose inspired me since I was a little girl to aid others just as she did through medicine.” Verona adds, giddily peeking at her acceptance letter.

Cramps, nausea and discomfort aren’t anything new for you and all the more expected now, pregnant at fourty-five.

Still, you remain to hear your children’s choices of university before anything else—a breath of fresh air and some relaxation can wait a few minutes longer.

“I’m happy to announce that I’ve decided I will be going into a joint program at Harvard University this upcoming fall for both a Juris Doctor and Master of Business Administration degree.” Niccolo proclaims.

“And I’m more than grateful and appreciative to say that I’ll be at the very university both my parents added for the Doctor of Medicine program at Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth University!�� Verona giggles, almost dropping her admission letter out of excitement.

“Oh my God.” Your eyes light up as you burst into applause with your family. “Congratulations, you two!!”

“Harvard and Dartmouth, huh?” Michael chuckles, joining the applause. “Very, very proud of these two. Would you look at that.”

“They get their smarts from you, you know.” You blush, “no shortage of that.”

“Says one of Nevada’s top prosecutor’s with one of the most illustrious careers anyone has ever seen in law.” Michael gazes at you with disbelief in his eyes. “That’s why your eldest son is also pursing a Juris Doctor degree, baby. You inspire both of our children.”

“Stoooop,” you whine quietly but a smile breaks through your lips as both you and Michael share a kiss with each other. “You’re too good to me.”

Michael takes your hand, raising it up to his mouth for a gentle kiss. “Come on, darling. They’re not going to let this go without at least a few dozen photographs.”

“Let me get my camera first though.” Your eyes light up with the suggestion. “Professional photographs are all the same but I’m definitely taking some of my own for us!”

“You brought it here with you?” Michael asks, letting go of your hand.

“Of course, I did!” You nod enthusiastically, gesturing towards the foyer. “Keep these two entertained at least while I go get it, alright, baby?”

“Mhmm,” Michael steals one last kiss from your lips before you part from him, feeling more or less guilty you’d rather grab the photography camera you indeed did bring after you get some fresh air from how badly nauseous you’ve gotten.

Between Mama Corleone smooching both of the twins’ cheeks and crying out in joy, photographs being snapped from all sides, and Michael’s brothers cracking jokes while Michael makes his way through the crowd of his family to congratulate the children, it’s easy for you to sneak away.

You clasp a hand over your mouth, groaning and feeling a painless yet immense pressure over your abdomen as you push through the back doors of the villa to get out to the courtyard.

“God…” You take in a deep breath, feeling the warm summer air soothe you for only a few moments as you lean against the fenced enclosure of the nearby garden.  

It’s not that you were used to having easy pregnancies twenty years ago anyway, but that little baby Maria was causing a bit more discomfort and twice the nausea being pregnant at this day and age now.

‘Let me just…relax a little for a moment.’ You pull over a lawn chair by the garden and carefully take a seat, clutching onto your baby bump and sighing in relief.

You haven’t even realized you’ve mostly been standing all day, and if Michael finds out, he’ll definitely make sure you don’t get up for the rest of the day either—hence why you don’t want him to worry here and now of all places.

“Couldn’t decide if you wanted to be like your mother or your father, huh?” Sonny wraps an arm around Niccolo’s shoulder, teasing him.

“Why can’t I be like both?” Niccolo grins up at his uncle. “I admire both of them more than I do anyone else.”

“Six years of medical school?” Connie scoffs playfully, rubbing Verona’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry honey, it’ll pass by with ease! And you’ll still come to visit us, won’t you? I’m never gonna get used to you and your brother being so far away.”

“I will, I will, don’t worry!” Verona lets out a soft laugh, embracing her aunt. “I promise I’ll be flying in for weekends and holidays for sure. You won’t miss me too much.”

Only ten minutes more of discomfort and insisting pressure pass until you realize something’s beginning to trickle down your leg.

Furrowing your brows, you gasp and practically jump out of your chair to realize the odorless and clear liquid beginning to drip down your legs is your water breaking.

“Oh no,” you groan, grunting out in pain to feel it accompanied almost immediately by the first wave of contractions.

Refusing to walk back inside in front of your whole family and rather knowing now five pregnancies in that a single wave of contractions doesn’t warrant an immediate panic, you’re quick to carefully make your way around the side of the villa and back inside through a side door.

Keeping quiet, you cautiously make your way up the spiral staircase and down the hallway towards your bedroom.

While the hustle and bustle of the party continues, you’re able to shut the bedroom door behind you and move towards the telephone.

You dial Doctor Katherine’s number before hanging up almost immediately, knowing one ring is enough to signal you need medical assistance when she’s in the estate with the rest of your family too.

“Darling, did you—” Michael looks over his shoulder in confusion, about to ask if you’ve returned with your photography camera yet after ten minutes only to not be able to find you amidst the crowd.

“Where’d mama go?” Verona peeps up, looking around for herself. “We can’t take the photographs without her!”

“That’s what I’m wondering.” Michael mutters, rubbing his temples out of stress knowing he’s worried for you at the late stage of your pregnancy to just be away from the family and out of his sight with the discomfort you already have.   

"Uh oh, mama's missing." James frowns, glancing at Vincent. "Again."

“Again?” Michael raises his brows at his son, overhearing the conversation.

Niccolo speaks up, “maybe she needed a break—”

“Maybe you should have been paying more attention!” Verona huffs, snatching the champagne glass out of his hand.

“I didn’t see mama last!” Vincent protests. “She was right next to me then, poof—disappeared!”

“Hey, seriously?” Niccolo rolls his eyes at Verona. “You’re gonna blame me for this? Come on. Knowing mom, she probably walked all the way back to New York for a breath of fresh air.”

“That’s not entirely impossible.” Michael sarcastically comments, “how many times have I told you two in specific—being the eldest—not to lose sight of your mother?”

“Not my fault, daddy!” Vincent pouts.

“Vincent, when did I ever say it was your fault?” Michael blinks at his son.

Vincent smiles back happily at his father. “I wanna help find mama like everyone else.”

“So many eyes on her and yet not one bothering to watch her.” Michael sighs out of annoyance, gesturing for the children to follow. “Come, unless I’m very wrong I know she’ll be upstairs and she has no reason to be.”

“Do we need to take her to the hospital?” Verona frowns, beginning to follow after her father with her brothers. “She’s that close to the delivery date and much more uncomfortable than before, dad.”

“I was thinking the same but she refuses to let me worry about her at all.” Michael smoothens out the sides of his hair, heading up the staircase. “In any case, we may just need to get a doctor to check up on her.” Michael clears his throat, approaching the bedroom. “Victoria?”

Taking in deep, calm breaths one at a time, you clutch onto your baby bump while sitting on the edge of the bed and fighting through your contractions.

“Victoria?” Michael can hear the sounds of panting as he eyes his children, giving a universal ‘give-us-some-privacy-please’ before he enters the bedroom.

The twins, Vincent and James all step back and remain at an appropriate distance to the bedroom as Michael pushes open the door.

“I c-called,” you breathe out, pointing to the telephone. “It’s okay, Doctor Katherine’s coming.”

Michael barely registers anything you’ve just said to him. Instead, his eyes fall to your chest—seeing how heavily you’re breathing, the sweat beginning to form on your forehead, and now with your water breaking—the stream of clear liquid leaking down your legs uncontrollable.

“No, it’s not okay.” Michael presses his lips together—worry crossing his eyes. “We’re getting you to a hospital, Victoria. Now.”

“Michael,” you shake your head at him, pointing down to your trembling and weak knees. “I-I’m not going to be going anywhere.”

~

From the moment that Doctor Katherine arrives, there’s already a unanimous decision that two things are going to occur: one, that the children will return back to their party and preoccupy family so none even have the time to question where Michael and Victoria are and two, Victoria’s going to be giving birth at home with the full assistance of Doctor Katherine and Michael.

The only thing that eases some of Michael’s worry is the fact that the bedroom walls are almost entirely soundproof at the villa; as if Michael kneeling down next to you to keep you comfortable while you’re screaming and pushing out your baby isn’t already driving him mad with worry and stress.

“We should have taken her to a hospital,” Michael glares at Dr. Katherine, squeezing your hand. “She’s in pain.”

“Urghhhh!” You grunt out, “h-hurts! It hurts!”

“She’s giving birth, Mr. Corleone.” Dr. Katherine clarifies, keeping your legs spread and noting the dilation level.  “You may not have been present the last four times but the screams are no different than now.”

“That doesn’t help at all.” Michael sighs, looking down at you in worry.

“Michael,” you let out a shaky breath, giving your husband an annoyed look. “You’re more worried than I am—ahhh! Ugh, I should be the one freaking out and—ahhhhhhhh!” You shriek again, feeling the baby pushing outward. “Just keep holding my hand!”

“Right, right.” Completely clueless about childbirth, all Michael can do is sit on the edge of the bed by your side amidst internal nervousness as Dr. Katherine assists you.

“I can see her head already, Mrs. Corleone...” Dr. Katherine smiles up at you, keeping a towel covering your legs. “You’re doing fantastic.”

“Ahem—” Michael exchanges a glance with Dr. Katherine, obviously having no idea what’s actually going on with the birth from where he’s sitting and the towel covering you.

“It’s best you don’t see just yet, Mr. Corleone.” Dr. Katherine advises, extending her hand out. “Could you please pass me another clean towel?”

Michael reaches off the pile he had brought out from the bathroom and hands Dr. Katherine one before pulling the towel from underneath you, noticing some blood stains over it.

“Michael—just give me your hand!” You groan, swatting the towel out of his hand.

“She’s bleeding?!” Michael’s panicked eyes look towards Dr. Katherine.

“Of course she is.” Dr. Katherine nods, encouraging you to keep pushing. “Bit more, Mrs. Corleone. Keep pushing and don’t relent.”

“Let me get her another one—” Michael reaches into the towel pile and while grabbing a longer one out, he accidentally tugs a bit too hard and causes the towel to fly on top of you.

“You’re suffocating me and the baby already!” You squeal, laughing weakly through your contractions. “T-the baby’s not going to be happy with you, Michael.”

“She’s definitely not going to be impressed with me is all.” Michael mutters under his breath, taking the towel off of you and carefully inching it underneath your thighs. “Why exactly is my wife bleeding?”

“It’s all coming from the cervix, Mr. Corleone.” Dr. Katherine chuckles, amused by Michael’s questions knowing he has his best interests and intentions in mind to be there for you and make sure you’re comfortable above all. “Very normal during labor and you’ll see after the birth…ah! Go on, Mrs. Corleone! Give one big push! BIG PUSH!”

Michael’s eyes immediately dart back down to you as he kisses your knuckles; your hand still intertwined with his.

“I’m—” You groan out loudly, gritting your teeth from the pain. “P-pushing! Pushing…!”

“She’s coming, she’s coming! Keep pushing, Mrs. Corleone! The baby’s head is out!” Dr. Katherine urges. “Almost there! You’re doing so well!”

You make eye contact with Michael through happy tears, sniffling and giggling at the permanent confused and panicked look over your husband’s face.

“Ah!” You let out a final cry, exhaling deeply in relief as Dr. Katherine reaches her hands beneath the towel and beams, carefully grasping the baby. “Oh my Goddddd,” you whimper, bursting into tears.

Michael’s eye slight up to hear the sounds of a little baby crying and sees little baby Maria’s hand flailing in the air as Dr. Katherine moves her away from the towel.

“There is she, Mr. and Mrs. Corleone!” Dr. Katherine cautiously snips the umbilical cord before wrapping up the the newborn baby girl in a towel and carefully handing her to you.

“My God,” you hiccup throughout your tears, snuggling the little baby up to your breast. “M-Michael, look at her.”

“There she is…” A warm smile forms over Michael’s lips as he leans over to see his daughter cuddled up in your arms. “Our baby.”

“A healthy baby girl.” Dr. Katherine happily notes. “Congratulations, little miss Maria is here a little earlier than expected but it looks like she couldn’t miss her older brother and sister’s celebration for the world.”

“I guess not.” You laugh throughout your tears, gazing at Michael’s smile.

“Oh, she’s beautiful.” Michael murmurs, extending his hand to a crying Maria who snatches onto her father’s pinky finger. “Just like her mother… Our little baby Maria.”

“Born in Rome too.” You blink past your tears as you look over at your baby daughter nestled in your arms; Doctor Katherine disposing of the placenta and cleaning up the bloodied towels around you. “Aren’t you, little Maria?”

“Think she has more in common with her mother already and she’s only been here for a few minutes.” Michael brushes aside a loose strand of hair from your face, kissing your forehead gingerly. “Born at home and in Italy.”

“She’s got her own set of bragging rights already.” Dr. Katherine jokes, replacing the towels around you and monitoring for any further blood loss.

“I love her so much.” Your voice breaks as you hold back your tears. “She’s so perfect.”

“She is, baby, she is.” Michael kisses both of your cheeks, admiring little Maria who begins to calm her crying.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Dr. Katherine says quietly, smiling and knowing she’s got something else to let your family know who’ve now all been questioning your absence.

As Dr. Katherine exists the bedroom, Michael remains leaned over next to you with his hand lovingly caressing your cheek—whispering to you in Italian. “Hai benedetto me e la nostra casa con un altro bambino, e questa volta una ragazza. Una ragazza, molto dopo Verona.” (You have blessed me and our house with another child, and this time a girl. A girl, long after Verona.)

Through tear-filled eyes, you weakly gaze up at your husband who plants soft little kisses around your cheeks, letting Maria continue to grasp onto his finger. “Ti amo, Vittoria.” (I love you, Victoria.)

[x-childish-x]

Hi there! I would like to see what James March would be like being stalker or jealous with the girl he likes 🥵🙏🏻😩

Dead Serious

Pairing: James Patrick March x fem!reader

Fandom: American Horror Story

Warnings: female!reader, stalker!James, creepy!James, creeper actions, sulking, jealousy, mentions to violence and murder

Word Count: 809

A/N: Enjoy the 400 follower spoil-fest!!!! Hello lovely! I kind of combined them both and twisted them a little. I hope you enjoy this and that it's what you wanted. Thank you so much for all the support and love! Enjoy! Feedback is always welcome and encouraged!

Summary: James can't help but shoot his shot after watching you from the shadows for weeks.

(gif not mine!)

You'd been sulking all night, sitting at the bar as you watched Donovan flit around the party. He stayed close to the Countess' side, kissing her more often than you wanted to see. Donovan had been the first to formally introduce himself to you, and try to make friends, but it didn't take long to realize he was off-limits.

James watched you from afar, as he had been since the beginning of your three-week stay at the Hotel Cortez. He'd been too afraid to reveal himself to you yet, but he'd banned all ghosts from touching you. More often than not, James found himself often contemplating the reality of killing Donovan each time he saw your puppy eyes following the immortal man. It made him sick and angry and, dare he say, upset. The uncertainty of his emotions was the exact reason that James had stuck to watching you like a stalker over the past two and a half weeks.

You ordered yet another drink from Liz, unknowingly impressing Mr. March with your alcohol tolerance. Grumbling under your breath at the sight of Donovan kissing the Countess yet again, your heart sunk deeper and deeper into your stomach. It was stupid to fuss over a taken man, but besides Liz, he'd been the only openly nice one to you.

James knew it was not only dumb but also dangerous to -stalk- admire a human woman such as yourself. Yet, he couldn't help it. Without revealing his form, James'd followed you everywhere and admiring every single thing you did. You were better than any drug he could've ever gotten, and seeing you watch the Countesses lover boy made him rage his jealousy. Every time your beautiful, sparkling eyes flicked to the immortal amateur, James had to stop himself from committing yet another murder.

"Why so glum, darling?" The thick accent of a handsome stranger washed over you as he sat next to you.

Slamming back the rest of your drink, you shamelessly looked the man up and down as you twirl your straw in between your perfectly painted nails, "I can't ever seem to find the right guy. They always end up kissing someone else."

James seethed with anger despite being impressed by your forwardness. Why wasn't he your type? He'd been watching you for weeks! He could tell you anything you asked! He could tell you about your favorite snack combination, or the way you always put your right sock on first, or the way your upper lip would twitch while you focused on work. It was true, this was the first time you were seeing him, so you could just barely be deciding if he was your type, but still, why didn't you want to kiss him?

"You can kiss me."

You laugh at James, your smile doing just enough to convince the man to not kill you for laughing at him.

"I wasn't joking," James speaks darkly, why don't you want to kiss him?

"Oh," Your smile slowly fades, as you notice that James was being dead serious, "Well, I never kiss a man without knowing his name first."

Of course, James already knew that. How could he not know that with how much he'd been watching you. He smiles dashingly, "The names March, James March."

"Well, Mr. March, it's a pleasure to meet you," You extend out your hand, "I'm (Y/n) (Y/l/n)."

Instead of shaking your hand, James brings it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your fingers, "Tell me, darling. Am I the right guy? Cause I certainly won't kiss anyone else."

Your cheeks flare red, making James' smile widened. Your cheeks flare up the same way late at night when your hands sneak below the covers too-- "One kiss never hurt anyone, has it?"

James chuckles lightly, "No, it hasn't."

You both lean in, slightly too urgent for the kiss. Perhaps it's the lack of attention you've been receiving and James' excessive attention he's been dying to give from the shadows. Your lips lock in perfect sync, pulling soft whimpers from your perfect lips.

James pulls you onto his lap as his hands tangle in your hair. Your surroundings slowly fade as the only thing you can focus on is James. His lips on yours, his one hand in your hair and the other roaming your body. You're not sure where this man came from and how you didn't notice him before, but you're beyond glad he joined you at the bar. Something about his name rings a warning bell in the far back of your mind, but the taste of him in your mouth throws all caution to the wind.

If only you knew that you were kissing one of the most dangerous serial killers in the world. That James Patrick March was dead serious in more than one way.

General Taglist: @nowthisisdark​ @techssexythighs​

[skippyv20]

Update on Novenas Baby James!  Get your Kleenex...you will need it....before your eyes you are reading the answered prayers of God!  This is what prayers and good thoughts do!🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Skippy, I wanted to share amazing news from today.  My mom left to fly back home today, but before flying out we went to see James. She needed one more hour of grandson time. When we walked in, the nurses said they were going to take his breathing tube out in an hour. They changed their mind and did it within ten minutes of us arriving! Which meant my mom got to see her grandson off the ventilator and hear his first sounds! We also learned the blood clot behind his heart has shrunk!  Mom left the hospital soon after that, satisfied with his stats. My mother-in-law then came in about fifteen minutes later. James was doing so well breathing on his own that the doctors told his nurse I could hold him if I wanted! My poor husband couldn't be there as he had to work, but I video called him several times throughout the procedure and hold time, sent photos and videos. It's not the same, but at least he could see how James was doing throughout the day. (Parental leave for dads is not great where we live.)  It's been 17 days since James had open heart surgery. That's 17 days since my husband and I had about 30 seconds each to hold him. Today I held him for two hours! James' fussiness immediately went away and he fell asleep in my arms. He was so calm during that time.  Thank you God! Every prayer has been heard! He's not out of the woods since his condition is still considered severe, and there are alternative breathing machines on standby in case his body gets tired or his body isn't able to sustain saturation levels, so prayers are still welcome.  You and the prayer warriors have helped me so much since he was diagnosed with Ebstein's back in December and on through to today. Look at what these prayers have done! We've had some bad days, emotional days, and heard some hard things, but his doctors and nurses now shake their heads in amazement at his progress.  He continues to fight. He wants to live. The Great Physician, our all-knowing and listening God has heard the prayers. James is evidence of Grace, of answered prayers, and a fighting spirit. I am so happy for this day.   Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! 💙💚💙

Thank you God!  Thank you!  Thank you!🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

70221

[treasureswordsgirl55]

Cupcake

Character: James Bucky Barnes

Inspired by: Domestic situation

Pairing: James Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader (Original Female Character)

Warnings: Nothing. Fluff. Domestic fluff. Baking. Nightmares. First meeting. (Cupcake here is a Cake in a mug, not a muffin. I hope you all understand me)

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I hope you’re doing fine out there! 

This is… The was the first fic that I posted in English in my other account. So I’d like to say some things about it.

First of all. this is one of the fics that I enjoy writing it. I’s one of my favourites, definitely. (At night, I`ll be trying to post a masterlist with all my fics)

Second: English isn’t my fist language. It’s Spanish (I’m from Argentina)

Thrid: My English writing sucks. So I’m still helping me with Google Translate (I’m so embarrassed about it)

Forth: I made the corrections and everything and this is the result 🤦🏻‍♀️ I tried to do my best, don’t be so rude to me, please. I’m trying and I’m working to do it well by myself. 🙏🏻

(I’m not proud about this (using Google T) and if my teacher’s English see this, she’s going to kill me -> I’m on this mood until today. 

Fifth: I hope from the bottom of my heart that this fic like you so much that I love write it. So, thanks you for your likes and comments. It’s means so much for me.

All the replies are always welcome!!!

XOXO 😘😘😘

                                       -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I quickly climb the stairs of the building looking for the relief that the fresh air gives to my thoughts and yes, I didn’t even bother to take off my pijamas when I know that I will be alone there, only in the company of the stars.

When I feel the moonlight coming through the small window above the door, I take a deep breath and as soon as I pull the door and I thank God for create the air. The moment when I feel that the situation is overwhelming me and the air begins to escape from my throat, preventing me from breathing, makes me want to disappear.

I walk quickly between the different chimneys and when I get to that favorite place, from where I can see part of the city, I find that someone is sitting a few meters from what I already consider my place.

I hadn’t seen him before, so I guess he must be who Camille told me that moved into the building. I remember hearing something about his attractiveness and that he seemed sad.

I shake my head as I wait a few seconds to see if he will go away, but I can see that his profile is lit by the moon and looks like an expertly carved piece of marble. I move a little closer to the opposite end of that fireplace that hides me and a sigh escapes me.

OMG. Camille had failed of using the adjective “attractive.”

He looks like one of those Greek gods that are described in the stories I’m used to read because every detail of his face seemed perfect to me.

He was wearing only a white T-shirt and black joggins. Imagine that is his pijama.

If it looks good with just that, imagine him wearing dress clothes, like a suit.

- You don’t have to hide, your steps are too noisy.

I shudder to hear it and I feel moves inside me. I can’t explain what it is, but I feel strange. Did I feel a flutter of butterflies in my stomach? What the hell is wrong with you any this stranger? I reprimand myself while I hesitate to move forward, but something seems to pull me towards that place.

I walk slowly towards the small cement seat that is against one of the emergency stairs that remain closed and the stranger turns, giving me a slight smile.

- I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry - I admit as he responds with a nod and looks back at the city.

- Probably, I scared you, doll.

Scare me? Hell, if beauty were scary …

- Why should I be scared of you?

- It’s the first reaction of people when they see me.

I barely notice in the darkness of the night that one of his arms is black with what seems to be gold trim and reality hits me: he is Captain America’s partner. The man who everyone called and still calls, The Winter Soldier. The one who has a long line of homicides on his shoulders because of Hydra, and that said the files declassified by the Sokovia Accords that Cameron read aloud as soon she presented a conference at the UN about the public life of each of those members to the group called “The Avengers.”

For me, he is just a man who had the misfortune of being the victim of psychopaths.

- I don’t see it that way. In fact, you don’t look scary.

- Don’t you know who I am?

- Yes I know. I’m not very good at all superhero’s things, but my best friend is a lecturer at the United Nations, and she’s in love with your partner, by the way.

I managed to get Bucky smile without even looking away from his target. He was even more attractive when he smile.

- Rogers is not available, so sorry.

- I wasn’t talking about Rogers, I’m talking about Wilson. I admitted that the suit makes him more attractive, especially for my friend.

This time, I heard him laugh as he turns and leans on the edge of the building’s border ours. For a moment, I think about the fall, but I remember that he’s an expert at superhero’s falls.

- My name is James, but everyone knows me by Bucky, I guess you already know that.

He extend his hand to me and I take it without hesitation. As soon as our fingers touch, a spark seems to come out between us and we laugh and I move off quickly. I should go and hug a tree, as my grandfather used to say when I was little.

- Maybe, but It’s the first time I saw you in person, so it doesn’t count. I’m Emma, ​​by the way. I live in the 3A.

- I moved to 3E yesterday - I heard him say while I look with curiosity at the distance as the Empire State Building greets us with that of lights that today, after several years of living with its busy streets, makes me unmistakable - Do you come up here often?

- Only when I can’t sleep. In this case, I’m not sleepy, what about you?

- The same. I usually have nightmares at night that barely let me sleep.

I don’t dare to ask about it, as much as my curiosity wants to make an appearance.

- And being out here relaxes you?

- The air clears my mind.

- Mine too. I think a lot when I can’t sleep - I see that he stays staring at me like he expects that I continued my talk but I just let out a sigh - You know, when I can’t sleep, and I can’t go up here, I.. make cookies or bake a cake.

- At … - He looks at his watch and frowns - 3 in the morning?

- Let me tell you something: One time, I baked a cake at 5 in the morning when I had a college class at 8. Weird people’s stuff.

- I understand about it - He moves his left arm and I smiled - but cooking at 5 in the morning is unimaginable for me.

- You take off the fun of life, Barnes.

He laughs at me as he lets out a sigh and clasps his hands in his lap. This man is one of those who maybe, he needs a little fun in his life. Or maybe something sweet.

I get up and wave for him to follow me. When I noticed he’s not moving, I stand in front of him and hold out my hand for him to take it.

- Come with me…

- Where?

- My department. I’m going to show you how fun can be baking at this time.

He barely opens his mouth to refuse, but something in my gaze made his blue eyes soften and he takes my hand, while he let me guide him down the stairs.

I let go his hand as soon as we get to the stairs.

- Why do you trust people so fast? - His voice behind me made a chill run through my body, but despite the strangeness of my behavior, there was something about him that made me not afraid, but rather that I felt protected - You shouldn’t do it.

- But I trust you - And worst of all is that it scares me. A lot.

- Aren’t you afraid of me?

I barely feel the doubt and fear in his voice, I feel a lump form in my throat, preventing me from breathing for a second. He feel like a little boy who was unsure of his actions, and I remember that this man is just like a young man who has just come out into the world around him.

- No - I say sincerely - Should I?

- I’ve done things I’ll never be proud of and I know you know it.

I hear his footsteps following mine as we descend and once I see the number that indicates the floor, I snort. The worst thing about enjoying the terrace were the stairs, especially when you had to go down.

Another thing: I forgot to mention that the elevator is broken, right?

- And who says I haven’t done something like what you did and you don’t know? - His silence confirmed that I had won that little battle and I don’t contain my smile, even though he doesn’t see it - Introverts aren’t always good, take note of it.

- You don’t look like someone with a split personality.

- Neither you. So we’re the same - When we get to our floor, I walk quickly so that AJ, our oldest neighbor in the building, who is 102 years old, doesn’t scold us for the noise at 3 am. I turn around to face him, making the blue-eyed jump and indicate my door - another thing: I don’t anyone let in my department, that’s means my Hobbit hole.

I turn around as I open the door, turning on the lights as I pass, and I hear him release a breath of air as if my statement had surprised him.

- Did you read the Hobbit? - I don’t have to turn around to hear the surprise and excitement in his voice.

Another book lover like me.

- Who doesn’t? It’s an amazing book that everyone should read once in a lifetime.

I walk quickly to the kitchen as I watch him gently close the door and stare at the library that occupies the entire wall. Although the vast majority of books are romantic and science fiction titles, there are some research and science volumes, as well as that collection of DVDs that I refuse to let it go.

I hear my little cat Charm meow and bend down to pamper him as I hear Bucky’s footsteps approach the counter. I take two aprons from under the island and hand him one without looking at him.

- Let me warn you, that you don’t bake without getting dirty. Put it on.

He gives me a smile and puts on the apron without hesitation. As soon as I take out all the ingredients and have them on the table, I look for the cups, a bowl and the mixer.

When I see him again, he is still in the same place, too adorable in a pink apron that looks great on him.

- Come on, sergeant. Come here and do what I tell you - He rolls his eyes and I tell him slowly what to do, placing the ingredients one by one in the bowl and when he turns on the mixer for the first time, I know that tomorrow’s kitchen disaster will be fatal.

We laughed, we joked, we ended up full of flour all over the place, but the icing on the cake was my neighbor’s face when I told him we were preparing.

- This is too liquid for making cookies. Didn’t you get the wrong recipe? - He picks up the whisk and the soft yellow mass falls like water.

I feel his confidence increasing, as does mine.

- I never said we would make cookies - he turns to look at me and laugh I barely see that he has flour even in his hair. I raise my hand to shake his hair out but stay halfway, wondering if the action was too intimate for both of us. He bends down, to be a little more at my height, leaving his head at the level of my hand and I blush as I shake his hair, which is soft to the touch. He blushes when he turns away from me and our eyes meet - There is no insomnia that doesn’t solve with a cupcake.

- In a cup?

- Sure, I learned it from the internet - I serve the mixture in two cups, I place them in the microwave for three minutes and once they are ready, I leave them on the table, with two spoons and a pot of cream between them - Sweet cures the soul.

- If you say it…

We sit and eat in silence. Each other concentrated in the cup in front of us, without saying a word. Charm comes up to the table demanding attention and I give her a small piece of the cake. Bucky stares at me for a second and smiles again.

- Thanks for this - his murmur makes me blush. My little yellow cat approaches Bucky and begins to purr next to him as soon as he caresses him with his bionic arm - Hello kitten.

- You’re welcome. Whenever you need it, my door will be open for you - He just nods and flour still falls from his head. We both laugh and he puts the cup between us.

- To baking at dawn?

- Sure! To chat at noon or if you want, we could have reading nights before going to sleep. That also helps when you can’t do it.

- I like the idea, Emma.

I can barely contain a yawn when I notice the dream start to make an appearance and I see Bucky get up quickly.

- Go to sleep, doll. This cupcake is having an effect on both of us - Bucky indicates the cup as if it had something strange in it - Did you do magic with it?

- The magic of pastry.

He shakes his head, showing an funny expression and I smiled back, trying to avoid the fact that about how much I like that nickname directed at me.

I walk him to the door and I lean on it as soon as he comes out into the hall. The image of him will probably be part of my dreams for the rest of the night. I take a look at the clock and at 4:30 am.

That rest of the night wouldn’t be that long.

- Thanks again for this, doll.

- My pleasure, Sergeant - I make a sign of those that are made to the officers and he lets out a laugh, pleased with my poor gesture. Doubt assails me, wondering if I will share a moment like this with him again, as I watch him walk a few steps away and he stops, as if he had forgotten something.

He turns around, taking a deep breath. I notice him hesitating in his movements and he opens his mouth to say something but apparently he regrets it.

Seeing him unsure of his actions despite being someone that society fears and at the same time admires, is one of the most adorable things in the world.

- James? - He raises his head at the sound of his name.

- Can I see you again tomorrow, doll? - He says that quickly making my heart start beating so fast - We can have lunch together, if you want.

- I’d love it.

- Maybe, we can cook together.

- Done!

[melis-writes]

What about Esther being away on a family emergency but Victoria falls ill so Michael is left to look after the kids

Oh now this can be wholesome and fun!! Let’s see Michael’s parenting with not just the twins, but all four babies! 🤣🥰🙏🏻

Fatherhood & Parenting.

“How do you feel, darling?” Michael murmurs, hovering above you by the bed. “Your fever is gone now, so that’s something.”

“Mama warm?” Vincent whispers to Niccolo.

“Mm.” You gaze up at Michael, smiling weakly. “That it is, thank God. I feel much better than I did yesterday.”

“No, no, she was too warm.” Niccolo whispers back in a hushed tone. “Can’t be warm like that.”

“Doctor Katherine will be here in about ten minutes or so to double check.” Michael presses a cold, soaked cloth over your forehead. “I told her she isn’t to leave your sight until you get better.”

“Mamaaaaa?” James blinks in confusion, hugging onto Michael’s shoulder as he remains in his father’s arms.

“Yeah, mama has a fever.” Verona pouts. “But she’s getting better, right?”

“She is, don’t worry.” Michael looks back down at the twins and Vincent. “She’s not ‘extra warm’ anymore.”

You chuckle, looking at the four huddled up by your bed. “Don’t worry, you guys. Nothing but the common bug and a fever.”

“Mama is cold?” Worry immediately crosses Vincent’s face as he hugs at your arms by the bed.

You let out a soft laugh, instantly feeling a tinge of sadness hitting you from being unable to get too close to the children or kiss them. “I’m perfectly fine, honey. Not too cold, not too hot. Just resting.”

“Mhm.” Michael refuses to stay his distance, leaning down and kissing your cheek. “And we should all let your mother rest while Doctor Katherine tends to her, yes? She needs as much rest as she can get.”

“Kissy?” Vincent asks sadly.

“I can’t, honey. No.” You shake your head. “I’m too sick right now, but you can always kiss your daddy.”

A faint smile forms over the corners of Michael’s lips as he slowly pulls away, but not before little Vincent can give his cheek a smooch. “Aha.”

“Kissy.” Vincent beams back. “For happy.”

“For happy.” Michael repeats back as you laugh out again. 

“Get well soon, mama.” Verona squeezes your hand, peeking down at you.

“I hope you feel better soon.” Niccolo adds. “Now we’re stuck with just daddy.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” You ask with a grin, reaching your hand out from the covers to hold James’ tiny one. 

“Yeah!” Niccolo and Verona exclaim at the same time. “More time with daddy!”

“Daddy.” Vincent smiles happily to himself.

“Alright, alright.” Michael bounces James in his arms, pulling away from the bed and gesturing for Vincent and the twins to follow. “Let’s let your mother get some actual rest. You’re all with me for the day.”

“Fatherhood looks good on you, Michael.” You tease back, knowing he’s always made the same comment to you about motherhood whenever you were pregnant or newly welcomed another baby to your growing family.

“That’s high praise coming from the mother of my children.” You can almost swear to yourself Michael’s given you a quick smile as he and the children head for the door. “Take care, darling. Remember to let Katherine know if you need anything–me included.”

“Mhmm, I will, baby.” You nod back at him, snuggling up in bed as Verona and Niccolo scurry out the bedroom door with Vincent.

“Good.” Michael rubs baby James’ back in slow circles, just about to pull the door shut before peeking his head back in.

You look up and blush at the sight of Michael as he speaks out to you again, “I love you.”

“I love you more.” You beam back as he quietly closes the door.

From the moment that Michael closes your bedroom door to let you rest, it’s official that he’s spending the rest of the day parenting the twins alone.

It’s not that you’ve done the lion’s share of the work or ever parented alone as Michael has spent–and always preferred to spend–a vast majority of his free time with his children too.

Don or not, mafioso or not, Michael wants to be actively a part of his children’s lives and especially as they grow up; just as how Vito was when raising Michael and his brothers, as well as how your own father was with you.

To the outside world, Michael seems like nothing but a cold, ruthless man. None can imagine his family isn’t per say his “weakness”, but his soft spot. 

Michael’s parenting and intimate life aren’t questioned by any, but if it ever came to mind, one would assume there isn’t some sort of undying passion in his marriage and that he rarely parents–if at all–is around any of his children.

With Niccolo and Verona now nine years old, Vincent two and James one, parenting is less hectic than it has been before, but the same can’t be said for the energy the four children have nonetheless.

“And where are you two going?” Michael asks out as the twins rush down the hallway.

“Uncle Tom and Sonny are playing ball, daddy!” Verona exclaims.

“We wanna join them!” Niccolo chimes in.

“Alright, be responsible and watch out for one another, please.” Michael watches them head off.

“Meeeeeee,” Vincent attempts to run after his siblings before his knees wobble.

“No, no,” Michael quickly lunges forward and gently grabs at Vincent’s arm right before he’s about to tumble to the ground. “Careful, now. You can’t just be running off after them.”

“No game?” He pouts in frustration, notably wanting to join his brother and sister outside.

“Not quite old enough to play ball just yet.” Michael lets Vincent grab onto his arm for balance. “But when you’re older, alright?”

“Play?” Vincent peeks up at Michael with hopeful eyes.

“You want to play something with me?” Michael blinks as James begins to whine quietly.

“Play game, daddy.” Vincent nods insistently.

“Alright, we will, just—James, shhhh.” Michael stands back up, “what’s the matter?”

“Nnnnnnn!” James whimpers loudly, about to burst into tears as he squirms in Michael’s arms.

“Play, daddy!” Vincent insists, hugging Michael’s leg. “We play!”

“We will, Vincent, alright?” Michael glances down, switching to hold James in his other arm. “Just a moment. Your brother’s hungry.”

“Snack!” Vincent exclaims, running around between Michael’s legs. “Want snack!”

“You can both get a snack,” Michael holds out his hand, “do you want up?”

“Nuh uh,” Vincent shakes his head. “I run.”

“No, no, I don’t think so.” Michael begins to head off towards the kitchen as James drools over his dress shirt. “Don’t run, please. Vincent, walk with me. Come on.”

“Fast,” Vincent giggles, trailing behind you. “Fast for snack.”

Now more than ever it’s emphasized to Michael how much he wishes you’d be joining him parenting four children for the remainder of the day, especially now with Esther away on a family emergency as well as Connie, Theresa, Sandra and Mama Corleone away in New York for the weekend with their children.

“Alright, come on you two. Let’s get something to eat.” Michael rakes his free hand through his tousled hair, walking into the kitchen and sighing in relief the instant he sees two bottles of breastmilk placed upon the counter.

Knowing little James isn’t going to settle for being put down so Michael can heat up any breastmilk in the refrigerator, it only takes him a split second to get to the bottle but not fast enough to see what Vincent is doing.

“Yum, yum.” Vincent crawls on top of the dining chair, trying to open up the covered pastry dish in the middle.

“Vincent, what did I just say?” Michael turns to face him, frowning as he shakes the bottle of breastmilk in his freehand.

“But daddy,” Vincent whines, pointing at the dish. “I want snack.”

“Do you know what’s in there?” Michael approaches the table as James curiously peeks at the bottle in his hand.

“Cannn… Cannoli.” Vincent beams, nodding.

“Yes, cannoli.” Michael chuckles, setting the bottle down and opening up the pastry dish. “Do you want a little snack or are you a bit more hungry?”

“Ooooooh,” Vincent’s eyes widen in surprise at the fresh and flaky, chocolate chip cannoli neatly scattered over the pastry dish before him. “Just one for snack, daddy.”

“Just one.” Michael picks one up with his hand, about to hand it to Vincent before looking at him expectantly.

“Please, daddy.” Vincent giggles, extending out his tiny palm.

“There you go.” Michael places the cannoli over Vincent’s hand. “What do we say?”

“Thank you,” Vincent blathers out, munching on the cannoli. “Mmm, snack, snack… Cannoli…”

“Alright, and for you…” Michael covers the pastry dish bowl, picking up the bottle of breastmilk again. “Hungry are you, buddy?”

“Mm,” James extends a tiny hand towards the bottle.

“Let’s sit down first—” Michael pulls the bottle away from him, “otherwise you’re just going to puke it up—“

“Aaaaaa!” James lets out a shriek, trying to snatch the bottle back.

“Uh oh.” Vincent frowns up at his little brother.

Michael refuses to hand over the bottle. “Not so fast, little guy. Vincent, are you finished there, buddy?”

“Yeah.” Vincent nods, brushing off his hands. “Wash hands.”

“Here,” Michael hands his son a napkin off the table. “Clean your hands with this first, your brother—”

“AAAAAAA!” James bursts out crying, insisting for his brother.

“Isn’t going to stop screaming,” Michael sighs loudly, moving towards the living room quickly. “Are you like this with your mother too or is it just me, little man?”

“Okay,” Vincent giggles, holding onto the napkin gently as he follows Michael down the hall.

“Shhh, shh, shhhhh,” Michael attempts to soothe a crying and whining James in his arms. “This happens everytime with you, you just puke it all up.” Michael sits down over the velvet chaise couch.

“Wash.” Vincent murmurs, looking down at the smeared chocolate on the palm of his hand before staring at the napkin in his other hand in confusion.

“Come on, alright.” Michael exhales softly, holding James in his arms and carefully feeding him with the bottle.

James clasps onto the bottle of breastmilk with his tiny hands over Michael’s, beginning to drink up all the milk right away. “There you go… There, the wait wasn’t that, was it?”

“Daddy?” Vincent waddles over to Michael, scrunching up the napkin in his hand.

“That’s not how you use it.” Michael can’t hold himself back from chuckling. “Why did you scrunch it up like that?”

“I make ball.” Vincent nods, pointing at the napkin.

“And how are you going to clean the chocolate out of your hands with a ball?” Michael raises a brow as James continues to suckle on the bottle.

“I dunno.” Vincent shrugs, giggling.

“Come here.” Michael keeps a careful eye over James as he continues feeding him. “You need to unravel that first.”

“I use the ball,” Vincent repeats, trying to scrub off the chocolate with the scrunched napkin.

“Done already?” Michael blinks, looking down at James whose beginning to push away the bottle.

James blinks up at Michael aimlessly as Michael sets the bottle down, carefully holding him upright. “Not as hungry as you said so, huh? Here,” Michael uses his free hand to take the balled up napkin from Vincent, unravelling it as best as he can. “Show me your palm, please.”

“Chocolate.” Vincent extends out his hand, pointing at the smudge.

“Like this,” Michael gently wipes it off. “See? We’ll go wash up in just a second—”

“Daddy!” The side entrance door to the courtyard bursts open as you hear Verona’s voice.

Michael raises a brow as Vincent crawls on the couch to sit next to him, mesmerized by the cleaning powers of the napkin as he’s always been whenever you or Michael have used a napkin or cloth on him.

“In here, Verona.” Michael calls out to her as James begins to attempt to crawl over his father.

“Daddy, look!” Verona huffs, rushing into the living room and holding a mud stained bow in her hands miserably. “Niccolo took off my ribbon and stepped on it!”

“I did not!” A burst of laughter can be heard as Niccolo follows inside. “She fell on it herself!”

“No I didn’t!” Verona scowls, waving them in Niccolo’s face. “Mama got these for me, I told you not to pull on them!”

“Verona, Niccolo,” Michael shoots both of the twins a disappointed look, cuddling Vincent with one hand and holding up James with the other so he can walk over Michael’s lap. “Are we seriously going to start an argument over a hair ribbon?”

“Daddy, it’s important to me!” Verona pouts, looking down at the stained ribbon. “Niccolo yanked it, I could have fell!”

“Niccolo,” Michael sighs, “what did I tell the two of you about being responsible and playing safely? You went out to play ball with your uncles, how does pulling at your sister’s hair have anything to do with that?”

“How does she know that I pulled it, though?” Niccolo smirks at his twin sister. “You didn’t even see me.”

“I did!” Verona insists. “This was my—”

“I’ll buy you another one.” Michael interrupts, offering casually.

“Really?” Verona’s expression softens.

“Oh, boy.” Niccolo playfully rolls his eyes. “So spoiled.”

Michael stares back at Niccolo without the slightest look of amusement on his face. “Can we hold back on the remarks?”

“Sorry.” Niccolo apologizes sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your sister.” Michael takes the ribbon from Verona’s hand, looking up at the muddy footprint over it. “It’s fine, we’ll give it a wash and see what can be done and then I’ll buy you another one.”

“See?” Verona crosses her arms, facing Niccolo. “I’d like an apology, please.”

“Do I have to?” Niccolo whines, “seems a little silly to me.”

“It’s not.” Michael reaffirms as Vincent begins to doze off against his arm, warmly snuggled up to his dad and thinking of cannoli. “Apologize to her please.”

“He can apologize to me once he—” Verona runs a quick hand through Niccolo’s gelled hair, ruining its shape entirely. “Catches me first! Aha!”

“Hey!” Niccolo gasps, immediately beginning to chase after Verona who sprints off back towards the way she came. “How is that fair?! Come back!”

“God,” Michael mutters, rubbing his temple gingerly. “At least the two of you are—”

“HIC!” James coughs, puking up the milk over Michael’s dress shirt.

“Ah, James…” Michael grimaces in surprise, staring down in disgust to see the milky, white mess dripping down his shirt and soaking into it. “Again?”

“Hhhhh—” Before Michael can even react, James coughs and pukes up more of the milk over Michael who gives up entirely, remaining seated over the couch.

Unbeknownst to Michael, you peek out at him from the bathroom where you’ve quietly been washing up—having to clasp a hand over your mouth to muffle out your laughter.

Michael sighs deeply, looking at the vomit on his shirt first, then baby James. “I’m telling your mother about your milk insistency and excitement induced vomiting first thing tonight, that’s for sure.”

Giggling quietly, you can’t help but feel warmth in your heart from the sight of Michael parenting, actively giving an equal amount of time and effort to all four of your children.

Knowing you’ve been feeling unwell for the past few days, unable to spend much time with either Michael or the children let alone do anything for yourself, it’s times and sights like these that let you know Michael’s always been the perfect father—one you’ve never had doubts in.

[skippyv20]

💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU SO MUCH DEAR MM ANON, I KNOW YOUR TISK IN DOING THIS FOR US, TO SEEK THE TRUTH AND GET IT OUT IN THE OORN🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜 Did l ever tell you all, l do the riddles from bottom to top? I don’t know why, l used to look at the Sears catalogue from the back too, l still look at magazines back to front. A fun wacky PG fact!��🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂☺️ MM Anon

skippyv20 MM ANON …… Cape Town closure ……bells and whistles farewell … on returning, a tour… an unpopular reluctance …… disinformation …… the fence that won’t mend…… club class flying isolation …… Heathrow paps…… no rest for the wicked …… “Hello Boys”…… “He needs a parade”…… “ not another bloody investigation” …… now D&G not H&M. …… cosmetic records!!!! O,no

… Cape Town closure They officially closed the Cape atone part of the tour and flew out September 29,2019. I was going to say today but l know this is a worldwide blog so l thought l would put that in there. The itinerary has them leaving from Johannesburg, and returning to London. I am sure most of Cape Town citizens had no idea they were there, if they did, no one cared really.

bells and whistles farewell This whole entire holiday has been just bizarre, her behaviour, a real live baby, was that baby really a boy or just presented as such. We all know the baby shower was for a girl baby, the BRF/LG so so so clever!!! Turned things around that it was a boy baby, that video of them showing amw to a few selected UK and US/CBS reporters was bizarre, at Windsor Castle. She looked so nervous, and PH said they grow so much in two weeks, the glare she gave him!! You know it, you all saw it! Will there be a whiz bang goodie doo? I think likely, paid, bussed in, waving goodbye. I have visions now of O showing up!

on returning, a tour Oh my goodness, is SS already planning a return trip, as she has been showered with love and praise by thousands and thousands , the crowds have been massive and amazing , kind, amazingly kind, and kind of amazing! NOT!!! I hope you got my attempt at using her favourite words and l tried her amazing kind of word salad, so kind and amazing of me to be so amazingly kind!🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂😁😁😁😁😆😆😆😛

an unpopular reluctance Reluctance means unwillingness or disinclination to do something. She is unwilling in any way shape or form to put celebrity aside and take on her proper duchess role. But this makes sense because there was never supposed to be a wedding let alone a baby. Using the word unpopular putting it mildly. I do think this may refer to PA and his reluctance or downright refusal to be part of the F.B.I. requests for an interview with him regarding his friendship with JE, GM. and other things like VRG allegations. I do not know how long his refusal can go on.

disinformation PR PR PR PR constant disinformation. One might use the word lies!! It’s been sickening to see and read in the papers. It has Albee’s thus wth her and it will forever be. Oh l just had to let out a big sigh because it’s so sad, and the baby ring used, disinformation about his age, everything about him is one huge example. There is nothing worse than using a child. Scripture says “Suffer the children to come unto Me, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven “ the exact is Matthew 19:14 King James Version (KJV) 14 But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven..

the fence that won’t mend… Mending fences has an obvious meaning, fix a broken fence. However it can be used as a metaphor, fixing a brook relationship for example. I think this is what MM ANON is referring to. Madam, initially when she came on the scene was ‘a breath of fresh air’, marvellously inclusive and welcomed into the U.K. and Commonwealth, and into the ‘family she never had’. Many , including PW had grave concerns. It didn’t take very long for the bloom quickly began to fade. There is ABSOLUTELY NO CHANCE IN A MILLENIA INFINITY! that her relationship with the British public, most members of the BRF, the Commonwealth and many around the world , can ever be mended. It has been irrevocably broken. Complete disregard and blatant disrespect for HMTQ! And a laundry list of grifting, disgusting behaviour, plus her complicated filthy past. No mending of this fence is even wanted, never mind attempted. GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

club class flying isolation The return flight, again commercial l am sure, back to London should be interesting. She and her team, will again be prattling on about how successful and awesome the tour is, IF BY THE WAY, she and her smuggled alleged living diamond , amw, if she wants baby in London, or just leave is SA. and carry on with dollies. My sentence structure is horrendous but IF BY THE WAY, l meant IF she can get through customs. Do babies need passports, Royal Allegedly babies? Was he sleeping on arrival and she got archficial through that way. I don’t know how, strict customs are with royalty. On the flight, Harry will be alone, not involved in anything because it’s all about a madam. I noted today how sloppy he looked catching that flight in t shirt and jeans, wrinkled, he has been wearing those ratty brown suede shoes the entire time. He suited up well though earlier and l an certain when he means the High Commissioner he will hopefully be dressed for it. I keep repeating myself, but his looks and behaviour are SCREAMING FOR HELP, HE HAS COMBAT FATIGUE! I am so worried, he’s wasting away, remember the interview when he was in uniform and something urgent was happening, he took off his mic and ran to see what needed doing? Remebhow fit and muscular he was? Look now, dishevelled clothes, those brown shoes😩, looks like he cannot sleep etc etc etc. I know l keep repeating myself but please LG, l know he is getting help behind the scenes, but our Harry is at such risk now, in his depression, l do worry greatly for him!!🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Heathrow paps Oh my my my my my!!!! The media and paparazzi will be waiting at Heathrow, if that’s where they land, they might be cheeky and land at Gatwick or elsewhere. The media when they return and subsequently is going to be scathing!!!!! Again read her twitters, petal is in SA talk about the Sussexes non-stop but denies being her, petal calls her baby bubs has done for quite sometime. In SA, big reveal, amw nickname is Bubba ☺️☺️☺️🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂. We are not talking about Einstein here! It would be funny if it weren’t so dangerous!

no rest for the wicked She had all her private things planned during this holiday. Yet she still manages centre stage by foisting herself via IMessage or Skype l think to be with the classroom where PH was in Malawi. All about CAMFED campaign for female education . She just cannot let him go, except when he could have really needed love and support, in Angola, the mine field, him sitting all alone by the tree named after his mum. Oh self seeking narcissistic behaviour, she lives a Master Class of it.

“Hello Boys” I can’t remember the name of the film, it might be Hello Boys actually! It’s fantastic Bette Midler at her finest, set further war, WWII, she goes on tour to entertain the troops, she would appear on stage all gussied up looking gorgeous and sing for them, she is amazing. Great film! I wonder MM ANON are you relating madams behaviour to the character in the film?? Going on tour and putting on a show!!! I might be way off but that’s a great film!

“He needs a parade” Support and love for Harry! Agree wholeheartedly! Yes he made a bad choice of bootycall that was his choice,who of us is without sin and can cast the first stone? This was all pre-planned, they would have kept at it, until it worked. I think he needs medals of the highest order for service to the Crown, HMTQ, his granny. He needs away time, months of privacy, therapy, perhaps medication, he ,Ishtar we’ll be on anti-depressants already! HE NEEDS PRAYER🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻. This is evil at work, it’s a nefarious web planned, he was shared in it.

“ not another bloody investigation” What now? What’s the next thing? Well PA is in a spot of trouble, putting it mildly. He has hired a new PR guy, Jason Stein, former Amber Rudd’s bulldog, lost his job when she quit recently! The paper says he is a ‘master of the dark arts’! The same was said about SS. What are the ‘dark arts’ these PR people use??? Anyhow, there are more accusers , resulting further Epstein investigations in America. The F.B.I. are more insistent upon an interview. The palace statement and PA years ago when this first came up, were emphatic he had NO sexual contact or interaction with VRG. They are not commenting today, read the article in the Daily Mail, if you’re inclined. They are saying, royalty is not an issue, years ago it was swept away. Since the #metoo movement the world has changed. Many many famous men have been charged, Bill Cosby, many famous American media personalities, actors, Weinstein, . This week l was chuffed to hear Wexner been charged in connection with Epstein! If you don’t know Les Wexner, look him up. He’s an American billionaire, one of his many businesses is Victoria’s Secret! Buy from them, you give money to an alleged sexual predator! I am not recalling just now his other businesses, but very very wealthy men have been and are being brought to justice. PA is in serious trouble. The ,ore he refuses to cooperate and scream he’s royalty, he is dragging out the inevitable. Poor poor HMTQ, l just feel so bad for her!

now D&G not H&M Baby Archie wore H&M to meet DT, which was subsequently marched and appeared officially on H&M advert and website l think website. Now baby Archie will appear wearing D&G. Dolce and Gabbana highend designer Italian clothes. This woman never fails to put a foot wrong. I don’t know if Archie was wearing it while she carried him to catch the plane to Johannesburg , the photos again captured through a clear glass walled corridor. Did anyone else think the ‘baby’ she was carrying looked a lot smaller than amw who met DT? Or was it just me? I would love a side by side photo. Maybe l am totally off.

cosmetic records!!!! O,no. I am not sure if these two clues go together but this is how they appeared to moi. Are there records surfacing or in possession of the BRF and LG’s team of investigators that show the extent of work she has had done, especially since coming onto the scene with PH? We know something was up at U.S. Open, she had that invisible medical tape over her nose 👃🏻, yes l purposely use that colour of nose! We all have seen her nose appears to be collapsing, those darn hobbies can show up in real physical manifestations ie wide eyed , dilated pupils, agitation, hyperness, just read the twitters feeds that will show you bizarre behaviour, also noted the times tweets are sent! As far as O, no…..PH is/ has reportedly been working with an O on mental health programs for a fruit tv channel. I have no idea where things are st with that. Is she going to come back on the scene in Africa. I know she has sponsored a school there, where there had to be some firings of l think the administrator , look it up!! I have visions now of her showing up for a surprise appearance with madam. Oh gracious, make it stop! PLEASE😩😩😩😩😫😫😫😖😖😖

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Thank you so much dear PG!  Seems much coming....Seeing your humour and wonderful personality shining through....is wonderful,  you are BACK!  Thank God for our Dear PG!🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜