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avatar-anna · 2 months

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Moments caught between Harry and Y/n on camera at the Brits

just something fun because harry at the brits was a mess but we love him for it!

Young Dad! Harry Styles x Young Mom! Reader Masterlist

The red carpet is loud and raucous, bright lights flashing as people shout for the attention of celebrities. One couple in particular is the center of attention the second they step on the carpet.

Harry Styles and a woman walk arm-in-arm, a broad grin on his face and a shy smile on hers. Harry seems to be whispering something in the woman's ear, his nose pressed against the crown of her head. It makes her visibly relax, her grin widening and becoming more authentic as they take a couple more steps.

The woman is the recently revealed Y/n Styles, Harry Styles' long-time partner that he'd somehow kept from the rest of the world for over a decade. But she was here tonight, just as she had been at the Grammys a couple weeks ago, and the cameras now track their every move, intrigued by this new-ish couple.

"Harry! Harry! Harry, over here!"

"Y/n!"

"Harry, did you really marry Y/n when you were in One Direction?"

"Y/n, how does it feel to be with the most famous man in music?"

Y/n, who's hard to miss in a red dress that fits like a glove, shrinks almost imperceptibly against Harry's side. Harry looks down at her, and the husband and wife share a look as if they're having an unspoken conversation.

Then he mutters something to her, and Y/n laughs as Harry kisses her cheek, but not before nudging his nose against it. The shouts double, so used to Harry's stoic approach to being out in the public eye, but both of them move steadily down the carpet, not paying the paparazzi and reporters any mind.

*.*

During their walk down the red carpet, Harry and Y/n come across a barricaded section for fans of the artists in attendance. They all cheer as each celebrity walks by, shouting compliments and proclamations of love for their favorite.

Y/n once again hesitates on Harry's arm, wary eyes darting toward the boisterous fans. At the same time, Harry is called to by a reporter asking for an interview. Checking in with his wife, he departs with a kiss to her forehead, murmuring words the cameras can't quite pick up.

Y/n stands on her own, one arm crossed over her stomach as she tries to stay standing tall. Fans call out to her from the barricade in a way that's difficult to ignore. She waves at them with a small smile, but it's clear they want her to come closer.

With one glance at her husband, who's still speaking with the reporter, and another to a security guard close by, she nods to the latter and they step closer to the barricade, just close enough in proximity that she can actually make out distinct voices and words.

"Y/n we love you!"

"Where did you meet Harry?"

"How long have you been together?"

"Ugh, you are so mother in that dress!"

"What's your skincare routine?"

"What's Harry's?"

The tense set of her shoulders eases a bit, no longer apprehensive of the fans and their potential to be cruel.

"I feel like I met him a lifetime ago," she says. "And I just cleanse, moisturize, and use SPF."

"How come we've never seen you at shows?"

"What's your favorite Harry song?"

"Are you friends with One Direction?"

"Where were you last year when Harry got wasted?"

Y/n chuckles at the last question, her eyes lighting up as her hand covers her mouth. "I've always had a soft spot for 'Ever Since New York.'"

"Taste!" a fan yells, decibels louder above the rest, which garners laughter from everyone.

"Can you make Harry release 'Medicine?'" another asks.

Before Y/n answers, Harry appears by her side, an arm snaking around her waist. "There you are. Got sidetracked by your own interview, did you?"

"They were just asking if I'd help them in their quest for a studio version of 'Medicine.' I'm not sure if I can, though. They don't know how stubborn you are."

A chorus of boos went up at Y/n's answer, but not at her. Harry raised his eyebrows at his wife as if in challenge, but her responding gaze is quite mischievous.

Taking everyone, including Y/n, by surprise, he leans in to kiss her cheek, saying, "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, darling?"

A chorus of aww's ring through the small crowd of fans as Harry places his hand on Y/n's lower back, ushering her away from the barricade. Y/n raises an eyebrow at her husband, who is conveniently not meeting her eye. "Nice save."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You never call me darling."

Harry lets out a snort. "Lies. Lies on the red carpet tonight."

Y/n rolls her eyes but leans in close to her husband, carefully avoiding the fabric flower around his neck. "Mhmm. Let's go, darling."

*.*

An artist is being interviewed inside the O2, and Harry and Y/n are videotaped in the background.

In the very corner, the couple are leaning in close and talking, a drink in each one of their hands. Harry talks animatedly, gesturing with his drink to the point where it nearly spills on Y/n's dress. Y/n doesn't seem to mind and just throws back her head as she laughs. His eyes light up as he watches her, a word that could only be described as love encompassing his face.

*.*

During one of the performances, a camera pans to Harry's table. The house lights are dim, but he's still visible amongst the flashes of color from the stage. Harry sits in his chair, body slumped a little low so he can rest his head on Y/n's shoulder.

Both of their attention is on the performer onstage, not noticing as a few cameras are pointed in their direction as Y/n scratches the back of Harry's neck absentmindedly. He leans into her touch, looking up occasionally to say something to his wife.

*.*

"And the winner is...Harry Styles!"

Cheers erupted throughout the room, the table Harry is at standing up. Harry himself stays seated and curls in on himself, pumping his arms victoriously as he beams. His eyes are a little glassy, his hair unkempt, a sign that the night has progressed with lots of alcohol consumption.

He turns to his sister Gemma first as he stands up, high-fiving her before giving her a hug and fist-bumping someone else. Then he turns to Y/n, who hasn't stopped clapping since his name had been read for the third time from the envelope.

She opens her arms as if to accept a hug, but Harry has other plans. He leans forward and kisses her in a way that's merely pressing his smile against hers until they mold their mouths into a kiss. Then he kisses her cheek repeatedly, making her shoulders bunch as she smiles brightly.

When Harry finally pulls away, Y/n's cheeks are flushed as she tries to wipe at her husband's face with her thumb. With one last kiss, he heads up to the stage to accept his award.

*.*

Another performance, only this time, everyone is on their feet, including Harry and Y/n.

Harry's arms are wrapped around Y/n's shoulders from behind, his chin on her shoulder. Both of them sway from side to side to the rhythm of the song as Harry mouthed the words in Y/n's ear.

Her grin is wide as her eyes stay trained on the performance. Then, she looks back at Harry, who met her gaze as she says something.

Nodding, he kisses her once on the cheek before nodding back to the stage.

*.*

As Kid speaks into the microphone onstage saying his thank yous, Harry is having the time of his life behind his friend as he speaks to Stanley Tucci.

By now it's a little obvious he's had more than a couple drinks. His hair is nothing short of a mess, his dress shirt is a little more unbuttoned than it had been to begin with, and he throws his head back and laughs in a way that is fueled by drunken delight.

Briefly, the camera turns to Harry's wife, who stands beside Gemma. Y/n's hands hold her face as she watches her husband be ushered offstage by the people around him. She giggles a little before leaning over to Gemma and shaking her head. Gemma laughs along with her, covering her mouth as she says something to the woman beside her.

The camera flashes back to Harry, who turns around one last time so he can blow a kiss to the crowd, more specifically, Y/n, who the camera catches covering her face in her hands, cheeks as red as her dress.

*.*

Paparazzi shout at their latest persons of interest as they make the brief walk from the car to the entrance of a club where the after party for the Brits is being held.

Harry's arms are tightly wrapped around Y/n's waist, face set as he ignores the crowd of people shouting for his attention. Y/n, turned slightly inward towards Harry's chest, keeps pace beside him. Most of her body is covered by what can only be her husband's suit jacket, but with the open front, a hint of a sparkly pink dress can be seen, a drastic change from her award show attire.

The only time they separate is when Harry allows Y/n entrance into the club first before following close behind, his hand once again protectively hovering over the small of her back.

*.*

Photos are strictly forbidden inside of the club, so it isn't until the couple emerges from the doors once again that they're spotted.

Neither of them stumble, though paparazzi wouldn't have cared if they were. All eyes are on Harry's disheveled hair, the heels dangling from his fingers, the suit jacket draped over the arm not around his wife. They're on Y/n, whose dress is completely on display, the beading that covers its entirety flashing with every snap of the camera's shutter.

Then the collar of Harry's silk dress shirt shifted, revealing a harsh purple bruise that hadn't been there before. Neither Harry nor Y/n seem to notice, or understand why the cacophony of shouts became louder, they just continue on, Y/n's hand on the nape of her husband's neck idly scratching until he helps her into the car.

Following suit, Harry climbs inside. For a brief moment, Harry sticks his head out the open window of the car and winks and sticks his tongue out at all the photographers. Y/n appears from her side of the car, leaning across her husband to bring the window up. Not an ounce of care in the world, he leans forward to kiss his wife's exposed jaw. With an exasperated expression on her face and a delicate wave of her fingers, the window goes up, and though the windows are tinted, a hand is visible against the glass as the car peeled away from the curb.

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jarofstyles · 10 months

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More DAD!Harry pleasssseee like baby boy pouting because he wants to be treated like a big boy and Harry can't help but kiss his chubby cheeks????

PLEASNJENJRF I love dadrry so much

Check out our Patreon!

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"What is the frown for, peanut?" Harry's voice echoed in the kitchen as he saw his son sitting with his arms crossed in his booster seat. The tv show themed plate and cup set sat in front of him, Y/N having served lunch to them both and excusing herself to grab her own. "Do you not want this?"

It was his favorite. Grilled cheese that Y/N had cut into smaller squares, goldfish crackers, cut up grapes and strawberries neatly arranged on the plate and apple juice in his cup. He couldn't quite see anything wrong with it, but he had been reminded that toddlers changed their minds about their likes all the time.

"It's baby." He whispered, looking at the printed cup. Paw Patrol characters decorated the sides of the sippy cup. "Don't want to be baby. I want to be a big boy." His eyes looked up at Harry's, the color strikingly similar to his own as his brows furrowed.

"What demean, mate?" he looked at the food. "Nothin' too baby about it. Looks like a great meal that mumma made for us. Don't you like Paw Patrol?" the man reached out to brush some of the curls from his son's face, heart clenching a bit. He was the perfect mix of his younger self and his wife. He was growing up much to fast for Harry's liking. It felt like just the other day that he had been in the baby sling while Harry did the dishes, trying to keep him asleep by singing as to not disturb an exhausted Y/N who had just fallen asleep on the couch.

"It's baby." He looked down, kicking his feet. The light up shoes activated as they hit against the side of the table, feeling a little shy with his father's attention. "Want a big cup like you. Please?" His little voice tugged at his heartstrings, the earnest want in his tone making him purse his lips.

"Well... we can, but I have to say, I may steal the cup for myself." He sighed, looking at it in faux longing. "I've always wanted a cup like that. It's too cool for me though. Besides, it makes sure there's no spills. Y'don't want to get all sticky with the juice if it spills over, right?" He rubbed over his little cheek, watching as he visibly worked through what his daddy had said. It was a wonder to observe, seeing someone so new to life have such obvious emotions and though processes on his face.

"You like the cup?" He peeped. "It's cool?" his hands tugged at the bottom of his shirt as he looked at the cup Harry had taken in his hand. Seeing his father show interest meant it must be cool.

"I do. It's the coolest, and besides.. Mumma looked for ages for this cup for you." He smiled. "Why don't you use It for a while and we can get you a big cup in a few weeks, okay? I may steal the cup if you don't want to use it."

"No, Daddy! It's mine!" giggles left his now bright eyes. "You ca borrow it but.. it's cool. You said so. " The chubby hands reached for the cup which the man handed over, feigning hesitation.

"Okay, my lovely. But you better watch your back. I may come and take it."

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thelargefrye · 6 months

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BABY DADDIES ... one - shot

pairing : wooyoung x f!reader x san

genre : fluff, parent au, established poly relationship

word count : 1.6k

warnings : language, y/n wears glasses, mentions of being pregnancy

suffering tag : @sanjoongie this isn't your official birthday present that might be late so please except this while i try to get it done

you couldn't imagine a life without your two daughters and their wonderful fathers who have been with you through the ups and downs of your life.

"what's wrong, mimi?" wooyoung's voice is hushed and groggy as you hear him speak to your five year-old daughter. you can hear miyeon reply to him, but you're too far into dreamland to fully understand what she is saying.

you feel the bed move as you assume wooyoung gets up in order to help miyeon with whatever issue was wrong. you can't help the shiver that rolls over your body once he's gone, and you're quick to turn over in order to snuggle closer into san.

san seems to welcome your closeness, as he is quick to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to him. your head resting against his chest as he tucks you into him, his own head resting on yours. his warmth encased you and quickly lulled you back into full dreamland.

you're not sure when wooyoung returns to bed, but you remember hearing him grumble in your ear about how you're a traitor as he wraps his arms around you. you're pretty sure he only called you a traitor because of how you latched onto san to steal his warmth.

"momma!" a high-pitched voice is how you wake up along with the bed shifting and jolting as two small bodies jump on it.

"momma, wake up!" another equally as high voice say. you hear a small chorus of laughter as you open you eyes to see both your daughters, miyeon and jimin looking at you with large smiles.

"papa made breakfast! it's time to get up!" miyeon said as they watched you sit up with a groan. running a hand through your hair as you tried your best to tame your bedhead.

"well, good morning to you both as well," you say with a groggy laugh making them laugh as well.

"appa told us to come wake you up," jimin said as you leaned over to give her and her sister a good morning kiss.

"by jumping into bed?"

"no," a deeper voice says before either girl could answer. you three turn to see san coming into the bedroom, still in his pajamas and glasses perched on his nose. "i told them to come and wake you up nicely," he adds tickling both girls as he comes to his side of the bed.

san is quick to lean over to give you a kiss before he's standing up straight and picking jimin up and swinging her around. the five year-old lets out a high pitched squeal before he's setting her down. miyeon stands on the bed waiting for san to do the same thing and he smiles at her before mimicking what he did to her sister.

"go help papa with setting the table you two," he says and both nod before racing out of the room. once they're gone, san turns to you and gives you a warm smile as he watches you pull your hair away from your face and reaching for your glasses.

"good morning, beautiful," he says once you get out of bed and presses a kiss to your forehead before he's following you out of the bedroom.

"how long have you all been up?" you ask, worried that you might have slept in for too long.

"just an hour, darling," san answers, "woo and i wanted to let you sleep in, but the girls wanted to have pancakes for breakfast."

you let out a small, excited gasp at the sound of pancakes before the smell of them finally filled your nostrils. san laughed as he watched you hurry down the hallway and into the kitchen. your boyfriend couldn't help but smile at how your excitement matched both of your daughters when pancakes are mentioned.

you come into the kitchen to see miyeon and jimin already at the table eating. miyeon doing a small dance in her seat as she eats. wooyoung runs his hand over his daughter's head, laughing before leaning down and kissing her. he places her cup of juice in front of her before doing the same thing to jimin.

"good morning, youngie," you say when he walks back into the kitchen, a smile on your face as you both share a quick kiss.

"morning, love," he says back as he goes back to paying attention to the pancakes. you wrap your arms around wooyoung's waist, cheek against his shoulder blade as you both wait for the food to get done.

"why did mimi get up last night?" you ask after the two of you stood in silence, listening to the twins talking and singing at the table. san had come in after you, sitting with the twins to make sure they didn't make too big of a mess.

"she got up to use the potty and lost her dolly underneath her bed," he says and you let out a small hum.

"you're such an amazing dad," you say and wooyoung can't help but feel his heart skip a beat at your words.

"thank you, love, i wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you," he says back, letting his hand come and rest over your own. he gives your hand a small squeeze. "both you and sannie," he adds turning to look at you with a smile. "your pancakes are ready," he says before handing you your plate of pancakes.

wooyoung laughed as he watched your eyes light up as you did a little dance before walking over to the table to join miyeon, jimin, and san. a few minutes later, wooyoung finally joined you all with his and san's plates.

after breakfast was over, wooyoung sent jimin and miyeon into the living room to play while you three cleaned up.

"here," you begin, stopping wooyoung from standing up, "i'll do the dishes," you add before taking his plate from him. however, before you could get a step in, san took the plates from you. "hey!"

"don't worry about the dishes, babe, i got them," he says before walking over to the sink. you let out a small 'ugh' sound before trailing behind him and standing next to him by the sink.

"no, let me do them," you say, turning the water on and beginning to rinse the syrup off the plates.

"y/n," san says looking at you pointedly, "you've worked hard these past few days. let me do it," he says.

"i'll wash, you dry."

"i'll wash, you dry," he says and you give him a small frown before switching places with him. wooyoung couldn't help but smile at you two continuing to lightly bicker with each other as you wash dishes.

"san, stop! the girls are sleeping," you say, swatting your boyfriend's hands away as he attempts to grab and tickle at your sides. san can't help the hearty laugh that leaves his lips before he's finally grabbing and dragging you closer to him on the couch. he presses a trail of kisses down your neck before blowing a raspberry into your skin. "ugh! san!"

"sorry, couldn't help it," he says before he's trapping you between his legs. you let out a sigh as you relax against him, his hands resting under your shirt on your stomach. his thumb softly rubbing your skin. "i haven't held you like this in a while," he says, voice just as soft as his touch. "i think the last time was when you were pregnant with the girls."

"i think you're right," you say, remembering how san held you like this when you pregnant with miyeon and jimin.

you three were still in your old shared apartment and you were six months pregnant with the girls. you and san had also just gotten into an argument earlier that day, neither one of you speaking to each other for hours. even when the clock hit six o'clock and it was time for what san and wooyoung decided to call their "bonding time" with the girls.

you didn't want to look at san, completely ignoring him despite you resting between his legs and his arms wrapped around you. you ended up not speaking until wooyoung got home an hour later to find you asleep in san's arm.

when you woke up you couldn't even tell wooyoung what you and san got into an argument over.

"you were pretty short-tempered when pregnant," san joked, bring you out of your thoughts.

"yeah..." you say softly, feeling a little guilty for how you would lash out at both of them over the littlest things. you would often feel embarrassed about it afterwards and you were thankful that both your boyfriends were understanding of what you were going through. "i'm sorry about that," you say, fiddling with his fingers.

"hey, don't apologize. i honestly deserved all those times you yelled at me," he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "wooyoung definitely did," he added making you laugh as well.

"hey now, don't talk about me while i'm not here to defend myself," wooyoung says as he enters the room. he gives both you and san a kiss before he settling next to you both on the couch. you immediately rest your feet in his lap, smiling when he shoots you a playful glare.

you laugh at his expression before you're opening your arms out for him, and wooyoung immediately moves to squish you between him and san. wooyoung rests his head against your chest, arms going and wrapping around both you and san. the three of you lay in together in a comfortable silence, both their breathing and heartbeats lulling you to sleep.

the last thing you thought before falling asleep was how thankful you were to meet and fall in love with both wooyoung and san. knowing that you would never change this for anything in the world.

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m3talmunson · 1 year

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Steve Harrington is incredibly smart. It's not his fault nobody believes him. Or, well, maybe it is.

Steve used to be his parents pride and joy, everyone knew that. When he was young, doing his piano lessons, his mother would show him off at their house parties.

"Look at my Steven!" She'd say, and all the other mothers around would parrot something like "What a sweet boy!" and he would just keep playing. That night his father would commend him for keeping the ladies occupied, that he'd grow up to be a real ladies' man, and how great it was that he kept the women out of the men's hair. He'd never said "I'm proud of you," or "I love you," but that was as close as he got.

And for a while, Steve LIVED for it. He'd come downstairs, see his mother in her good pearls, her party pearls, and know that he'd be good for them that day. Be needed for something.

And then it got old. So he learned cello. That kept them entertained for a while, until it didn't. Then he learned flute. That one kept them occupied a little longer, Mr. Harrington could stand the fact that it was a "girly" instrument because it kept Steve's mouth shut. He got too good at talking while he played the other instruments.

Then he tried guitar, and well all the instruments just stopped impressing them, because they stopped having house parties. Instead, they'd started going out to them. Started going out and not coming back, for weeks upon weeks at a time. Steve was determined to give them something to show off, something to praise.

He had always been quite book smart, but he started really putting the effort in. Steve gave it a year and a half of straight A+'s, until he realized that his parents would never care. So he tried a new approach, called 'skating along right above failing'. It didn't get their attention one bit.

Even when Steve came home beaten and torn, from the upside down or a fight, they weren't even there to ever notice.

And sure, people like Joyce or Hopper would notice, check in on him until the black eye went away. But after that, they had lives to live.

So no, the adults in Steve's life didn't really give him much attention at all.

Of course he didn't mind it all that much. Some small part of Steve just figured 'I deserve it,' and he rolled with the punches.

He found solace in his instruments, still. He learned more and more. Piano was his best, but once you had learned piano you could learn just about anything else with some dedication. His guitar he could whip out at a couple of his high school parties. In private, alone in his room with a girl, he could strike a few chords and they would just obsess over it. Got him the companionship he so desperately needed for a while.

Even so, he never showed Nancy. She made it clear to him that she loved watching him swim, loved his muscles. The more masculine parts of him. So he never brought it out. When she asked about the shiny grand piano in his living room, he'd just say his mom played. He stashed away his other instruments in a spare room, so she wouldn't see them.

That's not to say he didn't want to show her one day. He wanted to, but once you get called bullshit once, you're pretty much over the vulnerability.

So he continued to hide it, hide his smarts. He skated through until graduation, nursing the wounds in his body and mind all alone. Then he met Robin.

And he was just too scared to show her that part of himself. His instruments had become his little secret, and he just wasn't keen on sharing.

Not until after the events of Vecna. He had lost enough by then. He didn't lose any friends this time, but he was close. Max regained some of her eyesight, wearing thick glasses that Steve paid for. He'd never let Max's mother do it. Eddie got his new government-supplied trailer, and walked the long road to recovery. And near the end of that road, Steve threw one damn good party.

It was early August. Steve and Robin had already celebrated a year of being best friends (and being free of Russian torture), but Max was having a harder time, so they waited a little longer, until the Byers-Hopper group had settled in, but before school started. It was pretty much a "Hey Hawkins is (Relatively) Safe!" party. Everyone had mostly recovered from the events of spring break, the Byers-Hopper clan had finally put the finishing touches on their home in Hawkins, getting a nice big house that someone left behind in the "Great Escape From Hawkins of 1986". Eddie had finished high school, a little bit with the pity of teachers who were sorry that they thought he was a murderer, combined with the pity that he was nearly killed in the "earthquake", but who's counting? It was his year.

It was all of their years, finally over with this upside-down business. So Steve threw a party.

The adults had left, calling in their bedtime at 9. The kids and the older teens were sleeping over though. Steve had more than enough space, and of course, the moment Joyce Byers closed the front door with her last "Call me if you need anything!" they had to break out the good old party games.

The kids insisted on truth or dare, and they got a couple rounds in before Dustin decided to single our Steve for once.

"You haven't been called on much, it's my turn to fix that." Dustin said. Argyle was the only person who had chosen Steve so far, since he was on vacation from California for the summer, staying at the Byers place after helping them move in.

"Yeah yeah just spit it out kid," Steve retorted, taking the last swig of his first-and-only beer for the night, always playing it safe in case he had to drive one of the kids home unexpectedly.

"Truth or Dare?"

Steve contemplated for a moment. He picked dare earlier with Argyle and it had been pretty simple. A truth might make him spill some of the secrets he was content to keep in his brain. Within the kids group half of the truths so far had been about crushes. It left Will stammering earlier, and he wasn't about to let the same thing happen to himself. He could admit he had... new feelings when it came to romance that he'd rather not let out in THIS room. What's the worst that could happen if he chose dare anyways?

"Dare. Hit me with your best shot kid."

"Damnit, I had only thought of a truth! Give me a second." Dustin fumbled, turning to Lucas and trying to think of a good dare.

"All that talk..." Eddie whispered into Steve's ear.

That was a new habit the older teens had gotten into. Whispered secrets behind flexed hands, like a little kid's game of telephone. Something that made them feel like kids again. Though if we're being honest, it was mostly Steve and Eddie.

"I know, right?" Steve whispered back. Admittedly, something about the whispering made the hair on Steve's neck stand up on end. It made him feel like he and Eddie were the only people in the world.

He always had to come back to reality though.

"I dare you-" Dustin interrupted, " -to show us something you've never shown anyone before. Like a hidden talent or something."

Steve thought about it for a second. Maybe he could finally be vulnerable with the group. He had gone to hell and back with these people, multiple times. Surely he could play some piano.

So Steve got up, passing his empty bottle to Nance who eyed it with a raised brow and set it on the side table next to her. He stepped over the boys' sleeping bags, all of them sticking around in the living room that night so the girls could have the basement. Steve chose to ignore when Mike fussed, saying that he got stepped on.

He sat down at the piano bench and cracked his knuckles, looking down at the keys before snapping his head up and asking, "Any requests?"

"Wait Steve you can-" Nancy started, before Robin blurted out a song.

"Take Me Home Tonight!" Robin shouted. It had become their collective favorite song recently, both of them singing it every day on the drive home from work.

"Yeah, I can do that one. Be my backup Robs?"

"You don't have to ask twice!" She swung up from her place next to Nance, stepping over the sleeping bags the same way Steve had.

When she made herself a comfy spot on top of the piano, swinging her legs back and forth, Steve started the intro.

Steve thought it sounded a little dinky on classical piano with no synth. He winced to himself as he played the intro, looking up to Robin for comfort. He just saw her jaw drop, and her mischievous smile go wider. He didn't have to look at anyone else, Robin's nod for him to start singing was all he needed to look back down at the keys.

Steve had never been a confident singer, always putting on a bit of a show, carrying a tune -but never doing his best- so if someone said it was bad, he could say he wasn't trying. This time though, he gave it his all.

By the first chorus he was throwing his head back and closing his eyes, putting on a show for a different reason, smiling as wide as he could whilst singing.

He took some liberties: embellishing a little on piano, changing "Ronnie" to "Robbie" because, honestly, who wouldn't have. He got to her solo and, playing the supporting chords with his left hand, held out his right hand and his fake microphone to Robin, who took his arm in her hands and let out her most dramatic "Be my little baby," straight from the heart.

Playing the intro to the next part, Steve remembered that there were people in the room besides him and Robin. He looked around at the faces of his friends. Lucas and Max were bopping along on the floor, Will, El, and Erica had been dancing haphazardly in the corner the whole time, El dragging her brother up by the arm. Erica followed; she had recently taken an admiring to the bitchin' girl with superpowers, plus both El and Max enjoyed having another girl at sleepovers. Dustin's jaw was still on the floor, although Nancy was more subtle about her shock, her mouth hanging in a little "o" . Jonathan and Argyle were nodding their heads along to the bass chords, having just the time of their lives. It was Eddie's face that made Steve's heart jump. He was marveling at Steve, and anyone could tell. It was enough to make Steve sing the next verse directly to him. It became all too real all of a sudden, and he wouldn't change it for the world.

Soon after, the game was ditched, all the kids rattling off songs for Steve to play for them, so they could sing along. After some Loverboy, Blondie, Grease, and their more-than-fair share of ABBA, the kids tired themselves out. Will and El made a point to thank Steve for his playing, Lucas, Max, and Erica whooped and hollered after every song, and the rest of them showed their thanks in other ways, in hugs goodnight or simple looks, eye contacts worth a million words. Then all the older teens headed upstairs. Jonathan and Argyle headed to their room early, but Robin and Nancy stuck around in the Steve's bedroom, where he was sharing with Eddie.

"When were you going to tell us you were a musical GENIUS?" Eddie asked.

"I'm no genius, I just- My mom wanted something to show off at parties when I was younger, I started learning when I was seven so I could be their free entertainment."

"Thirteen years, Steve?" Nancy felt pretty awful not knowing about something so personal to him.

"Yeah, this is my first time showing someone who wasn't at those parties though. Well, on the piano at least."

"What do you mean 'on the piano?' Do you play other instruments dingus?"

"Well, a couple others! Cello, flute, guitar, french horn, and drums a little. I can carry a tune on harmonica, but I mainly picked it up to learn Piano Man. Thought it'd be kinda funny."

"You are magical Stevie, did you know that?"

Those words, Eddie's words, bounced around in Steve's head for the rest of the night. Magical. Him? Magical.

"Seeing as we know a girl with superpowers, I doubt that I'm the magical one." Steve brushed it off.

The girls took their leave a while later, leaving Steve and Eddie to stew in their awkward nature around eachother.

"I guess I can give up on being the only cool guitar player in the group." Eddie said, faking a heartbroken look.

"You can still be the only cool guitar player, I'm just a guitar player."

"Oh c'mon Stevie! You know these kids think you're the coolest person on the planet."

"I think you've got that one covered, I'm just their ever-so-giving host and chauffeur." Steve tried to make a joke out of it, gave his best self-pitying chuckle and everything. Eddie saw right through it. Saw the tears cloud the edge of Steve's vision before he blinked them away.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," Eddie stopped Steve, "You're so much more than a ride home and a place to stay to them, okay? I mean it, they think you're the coolest person on the planet. And they're not the only ones who think it."

"Ha, like you think it."

"I do, Steve. I do think it."

"I mean, come on Eds! There's really no redeeming factor," Steve let the tears fall freely, moving off of his bed where Eddie sat, and gesturing to himself,"I have a nice car, a big house, and a shit personality. I'm not good in conversation, I don't know any of their nerd games. I'm no good at keeping them safe from anything that isn't an interdimensional monster. I'm just kind of here. I'm not smart, or nice, or even funny, or magical like you said. I'm just here."

"Steve," Eddie started, this look in his eyes, trying it's hardest to tell Steve everything he means to them, means to Eddie. But Steve just closed his eyes, bowed his head, like Eddie had some power over him.

Steve just stood there, head bowed, flexing and unflexing his fists.

"Come here." Eddie commanded, patting the bed next to him. And, just like the little kid who learned piano to entertain his mom, Steve listened.

Steve sat down and Eddie immediately scooted him closer, putting Steve's chin in both of his hands. Making Steve look him in the eye.

"You are so much more to those kids. And even if I'm wrong, you're so much more to me. You are smart, you are kind, you are generous, and loving, and you care for each and every one of us more than anything or anyone in the world could reasonably ask you to." Eddie wiped Steve's tears as they fell, but he never broke eye contact. "You've saved their LIVES Steve. Many of them wouldn't be here without you. I wouldn't be here without you. You carried me out of that hell hole, and you've been here for me since. If there's anyone in this world qualified to tell you how much you mean to them, I think it's me."

"You really believe all of that?"

"Every syllable of every word."

See, Steve Harrington is incredibly smart. It's not his fault nobody believes him.

Not even himself.

But maybe, for the first time, he was about to make a smart decision.

So he learned forward, into Eddie. Pressed his lips into Eddie's and didn't doubt that Eddie would kiss back. And when Eddie did, Steve's heart soared. He put all of his gratitude, all of his feelings into kissing Eddie.

After he finally pulled away, Eddie just had to bring some light into the situation. He wiped away one of Steve's tears, and said:

"I hope I don't have to see those pretty eyes cry for that to happen again."

"You don't-" Steve leaned in again.

And if Robin found them suspiciously close in the morning, it was nobody's business but her own.

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astralnymphh · 3 months

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Ellie trying to teach kiddo how to play guitar for the first time..♡♡

YES YES YES ok so obviously, context preluding, we're (voices in my head) thinking older kid. seven maybe? around there. ♡

"kay' so, press here.. and your middle here— andd.." the delicacy of her long digits shrouded over a pair of stubby ones, pinching and plucking them to particular spots along a column, "there— go ahead n' strum."

ellie was dead set determined on teaching the mastered art of acoustic guitar to your kid. like— earthbent on it. a promise spoken to soil and vicariously explored through you, and now your sweet baby. your little–more–than–a–babbler, little–less–than–a–tween now sat atop you and ellie's shared bed, just between the hurl and crease of blankets bedraggled, and with a bay oaken apparatus as big as them sloped in their lap— the one joel bestowed. and you always idled as a bystander, watching, leaning on that jutted doorframe.

their blunt fingertips pecked the chords in a row, the lovely resonance lighting something in the white of your child's eyes, "woahh, that sounded like how you play it.." they awed, their jupiter-like eyes darting up to hers for a token of validation— 'did i do it right mom?'

a token she gave, pearl teeth revealing under the fat stretch of her coral lips, "yeah buddy, cus' you're a natural." oh my goddess, the enthusiasm cracking in her voice. ahh, swoon.

"yes.." they exclaim quietly, their forearm perched on the guitars waist pulling back and jubilating with a backwards fist pump. just like mom.

'picturesque, beyond camaraderie', you deemed the whole diorama before you; streaky mix of light and gray–blue shade over their features, faces that proclaim content, the narrow sliver separating their knees, matching criss–cross apple sauce positions, the oval crater both their weights burdened in the mattress, the macro view. 'heartwarming, entangling endearment', if you cherry–pick the easily neglected traits; synchronized cocks of their heads whenever a strum rings, fiddly tapping of her fingers on their tucked shin and how it lowers into a full grasp when she expresses avidly how proud she is, thumbprint–sized dimples mirrored on both margins of their mouth, and funnily— the mismatched socks on hers and their feet. one a pattern of dinosaurs, one a spangle of stars. in gospel truth, they are a likeness of the same flesh and bone, indistinguishable. undeterred by the genetics, the same person.

"keep it up n' maybe we can start a band together." ellie proposes, clear as spring bloom to be an fun promise, nothing sworn, but the idea swirls their young mind a kernel of imagined prospect. she and they upon a stage, grandpa in the crowd, his smile tender in wrinkles boosting morale among the many elated face.

"really?" and he sounds so filled of that idea, eyes popping from their hold.

"mhm," she untucks her own feet and sprawls them, stooping her torso straight and lightly booping them on the nose, a golden orb so happy left under that gesture, "only if you pick a cool name." and weighing her elbow into her thigh, head laying and perched.

"oh, i'll pick a better name than you can."

and suddenly her head is perking back up, "what's that spose' t'mean?" 'offended.

"you tried to name mr. snuggles 'bootyhole bandit'!"

"ey' you can't say that word!" she grimaces fakely atop a curling lip and squints her thick auburn worms, positioning balled fists on her hips like a distressed mother. so esentially just mimicry of you. oh, how ellie cackled buffoonish along with your kid on any occasion you held a scold to their faces, pointer at their noses.

"pbbhhhh." their tongue peeks out and a known all-too-well blowing sound grates the air, only to be tackled by your lanky-limbed girl, guitar discarded to the sloven pillows far opposite of you.

this shall be an anecdote, unforgettable. "hmph, dorks."

have I worsened your domestic!ellie fever yet?

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #domestic!ellie #parent!ellie #tlou ellie #ellie the last of us

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wheatnoodle · 1 year

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mr harrington who’s a scientist at hawkins lab. doctor harrington who made his pregnant wife an mk ultra experiment. dr harrington who gladly hands his baby over to dr brenner the second he is born.

007 who grows up with his dad as his main assigned researcher. being poked and prodded and tested and tased and tortured, all while his father stands next to dr brenner behind a glass pane, taking notes on his clipboard.

007 who lashes out when told his mother is dead. he knows she’s alive. somewhere. he can feel her. 007 who begins to lash out at anyone who comes close. they are the bad guys. they took him from her.

007 who kills a guard and steals his key ring to sneak 008 out. though he’s stopped before he can follow. he cannot wander free. but he cannot be here anymore.

a small device is implanted in his neck. hooked up to several wires to his brain, his memories are stolen, replaced with new ones. with fake ones. ones of a father who always travels for work and a mother who follows to keep an eye on his secretary, yet still somehow manages to keep a name for herself.

he does not question waking up in a bland, plaid room. no emotion, no personality in the space. it is normal to him. it is all he knows. this is steve’s room. it always has been.

#stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things au #steve harrington au #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington has powers #steve is an experiment #martin brenner #dr brenner #mr harrington #steve harringtons parents #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #blurb

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boobo13cambridge · 11 months

Text

A Mother's Remedy | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x f.Reader

Warnings: none just Papa Kylian fussing over his “perfect hattrick”

Summary: You fall asleep on Kylian after spending the whole day taking care of the triplets who had the flu.

A/N: Hello, everyone! I’ve been trying to get all my previous requests done. I hope you guys like this one, it was way too cute to write. My requests are open again if you guys want to send me more. As always, please leave me feedback and don’t forget to reblog. I would greatly appreciate it. Enjoy, lovelies ❣️

The room was filled with a soft glow, courtesy of the bedside lamp casting its warm light upon the scene. The day's exhaustion had finally caught up to you as you lay nestled in the comfort of Kylian's arms, your head resting against his broad chest. It had been a long and arduous day, one that tested your strength and patience as you cared for your three precious children who were struck down by the flu.

The abrupt shift in weather proved overwhelming for your spirited young boys, whose boundless energy knew no bounds. They loved playing football outside in your backyard, and wouldn't miss a match at the Santiago Bernabeu if they could help it. Watching their father play was their greatest joy, and you couldn't help but fall in love each time seeing your precious four-year-olds donning their father's jersey proudly, their voices joining in unison with the fervent chants reverberating throughout the stadium. Ali, being the eldest among the trio, would often lead his younger brothers, Zain and Ilyas, in a rendition of the French national anthem before playing their ‘friendlies’, as he liked to call them, in the yard. Kylian found it absolutely adorable, officially dubbing them his ‘favourite hat trick’.

Kylian's fingers gently caressed your hair, soothing away the remnants of stress that clung to your tired mind. His touch was a balm to your weary soul, bringing you a sense of peace and tranquillity. The rise and fall of his chest against your cheek served as a rhythmic lullaby, coaxing you slowly to sleep.

As your eyes fluttered closed, the image of your children flashed across your mind. Their little faces flushed with fever, their once lively eyes dimmed by illness. My poor babies, you thought as you snuggled closer to your husband. You had spent the entire day tending to their every need, feeding them medicine, wiping away tears, and comforting them through the long hours of discomfort.

A few hours earlier…

As the sun cast its golden rays across the room, you woke up with a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. Stretching lazily, you slowly tried to get out of your husband’s embrace, the latter’s arms tightening his hold not wanting to let you go.

"Bébé, stay just a few more minutes," he murmured softly, nestling deeper into the curve of your neck. Letting out a quiet giggle, you turned towards him, placing a tender kiss on his nose and gently caressing his cheek.

"Kyky, I have to go wake up the triplets and get them ready for school," you explained, a fond smile gracing your lips.

"Mmmhhh, d'accord. But give me a kiss first," he playfully whined, his lips puckering in an adorable pout. Shaking your head affectionately at his antics, you indulged his request, pressing a chaste kiss on his waiting lips, before deftly extricating yourself from his embrace and making your way towards the room where your precious cubs slept.

The triplets' room was conveniently situated just across the hall from your own, one of the many reasons you both decided on this house after Kylian signed with Real Madrid. As you opened the door to the bedroom and stepped in, the sound of faint whimpering halted your movements.

Alarm surged through your veins as you rushed towards the beds, the scene that greeted you shattered your heart into a million pieces. Lying in their beds, your little ones were flushed and perspiring, their small bodies consumed by fever. The sight of their usually bright and energetic faces now pale and tormented sent a wave of panic coursing through your veins.

Laying your hand on their sweaty foreheads, you felt how warm they were.

“Maman…” whimpered Ilyas the youngest of trio, slowly opening his eyes, “Je me sens pas bien.”

“Oh, mon pauvre petit chou. Maman’s here now,” you said, gently caressing his face.

As you continued to caress Ilyas's flushed face, offering him reassurance and comfort, the other two boys, Zain and Ali, began to stir from their sleep. Their delicate brows furrowed in response to the discomfort that plagued them, their faces contorted in the grip of illness. The sight was a poignant reminder of their vulnerability, igniting a fierce determination within you to ease their suffering.

With a heavy sigh, you braced yourself for the demanding day that lay ahead. Gathering your strength and summoning the resilience that only a mother possesses, you whispered soothing words to Ilyas, gently coaxing him to rest as you hear the distinct sound of Kylian’s footsteps approaching.

"Ils sont où mes petits footballeurs?" your husband boomed, entering the room with a wide smile that quickly faded upon witnessing the state of his babies. His expression transformed into one of deep concern, etching lines of worry across his handsome face. "Mon dieu, what happened?"

"They have a fever, Ky. They're burning up real bad," you replied, your voice laced with concern as you watched Kylian's eyes flicker with worry.

"Papa... Arrête de parler si fort, t’es pas un haut-parleur là," Zain weakly croaked, his voice barely audible, but still managing to convey his cheeky spirit, even in the midst of illness.

Kylian, ever the doting father, couldn't help but chuckle softly at Zain's response. "Roh là là, regarde le tit gamin," he remarked affectionately, a playful glimmer in his eyes. "Even while sick, he'll give his dad cheek, eh?"

Moving softly across the room, Kylian approached Zain's bed, his presence exuding a comforting warmth. His large hand gently rested upon Zain's fevered forehead, the contrast between his cool touch and the heat radiating from the young boy's skin sending a shiver of concern down his father's spine. Soft words of comfort and reassurance spilled from Kylian's lips, offering solace and a father's unwavering love.

After giving Ilyas a soft kiss on his cheek, you stood up, knowing you needed to make some food for your little ones and help them regain their strength. Your heart ached at the sight of Ali, still sleeping restlessly in his bed. You quickly made your way to his side, gently brushing his dark tousled hair away from his forehead, and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Ky, can you stay with them? Get them a wet towel for their foreheads. I'll make them some porridge and give them their medicine," you suggested, softly running your hand through your oldest’s hair.

"Sure, mon amour. You go ahead, I'll take care of them," Kylian reassured you, his voice filled with tenderness. With a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, you left the room, your mind racing with the urgency to prepare a comforting meal for your hungry little ones.

In the kitchen, you swiftly gathered the necessary ingredients, your hands moving with practised efficiency. As the porridge simmered, you took a moment to grab your phone and dial your mother's number.

With years of experience as a mother herself, she was a source of guidance and wisdom in times like these. You explained the situation and sought her advice on caring for your sick cubs, soaking in her comforting words and practical tips.

On the other end of the line, your mother's voice greeted you with warmth and concern. "Hello, my dear. What's going on? You sound worried."

"Hi, Mom," you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of relief and anxiety. "The triplets are down with a high fever, and I'm not sure what to do. They're feeling really miserable."

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry to hear that," your mother empathized. "First, make sure they stay hydrated. Offer them small sips of water frequently. And if they have any appetite, light, easily digestible foods like porridge would be good."

You nodded, taking mental notes. "Yes, I'm making them porridge now. It's almost ready."

"That's a good choice, my dear. Warm and comforting. It will help soothe their throats too," your mother advised. "And don't forget to give them their medicine. Keep a close eye on their temperature and monitor their symptoms. If things worsen or if you have any concerns, don't hesitate to call their paediatrician."

"I will, Mom. Thank you so much for your guidance," you expressed your gratitude, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over you.

"You're welcome, my love. Remember, you're a wonderful mother, and you'll get through this. Trust your instincts and remember the best remedy is a mother’s love," your mother encouraged.

As you hung up the phone, you turned off the stove and took a moment to collect yourself. The conversation with your mother had given you a boost of confidence, reminding you of the strength and resilience within you.

Carrying the tray of steaming porridge and Tylenol back to the bedroom, you found Kylian gently coaxing Ali to wake up from his restless slumber. Your heart ached as you saw the worry etched on Kylian's face, his focus solely on their oldest, who seemed to be more affected by the fever than the others.

"Ali, mon petit lion," Kylian murmured softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "Wake up, Maman is bringing some food. It will make you feel better, je te promets, mon coeur,"

Placing the tray on the table near Ali’s bed, you placed a hand on Ali's forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. His eyelashes fluttered, and his drowsy eyes slowly opened, revealing a mixture of confusion and discomfort. His weak voice quivered as he tried to speak.

"Mama... Papa," Ali croaked, his voice barely audible.

"We're here, mon amour," you reassured him, your voice gentle and soothing. "You're going to be okay. Just take your time and try to eat a little. It will help you get better."

With Kylian's support, you lifted Ali into a sitting position, propping pillows behind him to provide comfort. The fragrant aroma of the porridge filled the room, its warmth wrapping around Ali like a healing embrace. Kylian scooped a spoonful and blew on it gently to cool it down before offering it to Ali.

"Open wide, Ali," Kylian encouraged, his voice laced with both concern and determination. "Just a little bite. It will give you strength."

Ali hesitated for a moment, his tired eyes meeting yours and Kylian's. The love and support shining in your gazes seemed to embolden him. With a deep breath, he parted his lips, allowing Kylian to feed him a small spoonful of porridge. The taste brought a flicker of renewed energy to his weary body, and he managed a faint smile.

"Good job, Ali," you praised him, your voice gentle. "You're doing great."

As Kylian took care of your eldest, you attended to your other two brave little boys, who patiently waited as you served them each a bowl of warm food. Zain and Ilyas were capable of eating on their own, but as the ever-doting mother, you couldn't help but worry, despite their constant reassurances that they could manage. You moved back and forth between your sons, gently wiping the sweat off their foreheads and assisting them in drinking water. Once all three boys finished their meal, you and Kylian administered fever medicine and gently coaxed them back to sleep, hoping they would recover soon.

Seeing them in such a state made you feel helpless. Usually lively boys, they now lay there, struggling with high fevers. Observing your worry, Kylian tenderly wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and planting a kiss on your hair.

"Don't worry, my love. They'll be fine," he whispered softly as you sought solace by burying your head in his chest. "I can't help but worry, Ky. Especially Ali, I've never seen him like this before."

"Shh, he'll be alright," he soothed. "If you stress too much, you'll make yourself sick, and that's the last thing you want, right? The boys will be back to normal soon, my heart, okay?"

You nodded, releasing a faint sigh, as Kylian slowly closed the boys' room and led you to your shared bedroom. He was right; there was nothing more you could do but allow the fever to run its course and nurse your children back to health in the meantime. You felt grateful to have your caring husband by your side, knowing that despite being in the middle of a busy season, he always prioritized his family.

As you gently lay down, resting your head on Kylian's chest, you prayed for your family's well-being, filled with immense gratitude for your own mother, who had spent countless nights fussing over you to ensure your well-being. Your mother's words echoed in your mind, reminding you that a mother's love is the best remedy. With that thought, you allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, serenaded by the soothing rhythm of your lover's heartbeat.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe smut #kylian imagines #kylian mbappé #kylian x reader #kylian mbappe imagine #footballer blurb #footballer fanfiction #mother #motherhood #father #parent #mom #kylian mbappe x you #kylian smut #kylian mbappe x y/n #kylian fluff

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anticanonsposts · 2 months

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könig as a dad?! omg i feel like he would be such a good father

(sfw)

100% i believe it

I think if he had a son he’d like to match outfits with him (with your help obvi)

I think he would definitely be nervous at first because he doesn’t want to hurt his kid in the way the his father hurt him

per this i think he would actively try to keep this from happening i.e. seek therapy, apply different strategies so the cycle wouldn’t repeat

he would want to raise him as the man that his father wasn’t able to

like guy has a long list of things his dad did that he doesn’t want to do

If he had a daughter….

y’all would ruin his pockets

he’s already so bad about buying YOU everything you want and it would be even worse with a daughter

for any child he would for sure be very protective

I imagine him as one of those dads that when a baby/toddler gets their ears pierced or gets a shot at the doctors, he holds them and also cries

even though it may be good for them, seeing his child in any sort of pain is just horrible (he cries more than the baby lets be so ff)

I think his family/partner/kids would be a big source of pride for him

kids would be his wallpaper on his phone

nothing would make him happier than coming home and seeing you and his child taking a nap on the couch

that child could do no wrong in his eyes

related I think he would be an extremely supported partner if his partner gave birth to their children

especially for the first 3-4 weeks after the birth he would do everything for his partner

because they gave him a child with their body he will more than happily get up when the baby cries, obviously do basic father things I'm not trying to romanticize the bare minimum

but he would be so involved in raising the baby and in tern supportive of whatever his partner's needs were

#konig x reader #konig cod #call of duty modern warfare #konig blurb #konig imagine #cod mw2 #call of duty smut #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig x y/n #fluff #cute #relationship #father #parents

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little-pondhead · 1 year

Text

man i'm on a roll tonight

DP x DC idea:

Bruce Wayne has somehow managed to become the unofficial guardian of at least two more kids. Maybe three. He's not sure yet. Various members of the Batfamily have made new friends recently and have been having them hang out at Wayne manor for extensive periods of time. Now only if he could actually meet the rascals face-to-face, maybe he could adopt them for real.

Danny, Elle, and Jazz have all made friends with different Wayne kids at different times from different places. Damian met Elle at school, Danny met Tim while working at a coffee shop, and Jazz met Cass outside the local theater. All three visit the manor separately, and no one communicates that they've befriended people from the same family. Eventually, however, their hangout sessions accidentally overlap and the Waynes have to deal with the excitement of three Fentons under a single roof.

Let's just say there's a reason the three of them live separately.

#pondhead blurbs #danny phantom #the three aren't mad at each other or anything #it's just no house other than their parent's can withstand more than one Fenton at a time #So Elle is enrolled in school and stays with sam above this nice flower shop that has carnivorous plants #danny is working towards his GED and working at a coffee shop on the side and lives with tucker #jazz got emancipated and had technus fuck with her records so she could get her own apartment near the iceberg lounge #which she works at part time as a performer maybe #why is everyone in gotham? idk #either all five of them got sucked into a portal to another dimension #or you can go the angst route and have a bad reveal au #so everyone just picks up their lives and moves with danny #throw in dan who maybe travels for work #or he's wormed his way into vlad's life and becomes heir to vladco instead of danny in an attempt of weird revenge #but everyone is like 'this is for the better' and now dan is stuck in corporate meetings all because he wanted to steal what was danny's #dpxdc

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bonefall · 6 months

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oo snowkit becomes snowcarve?

He does!

In StarClan, you can use the names and appearance that you could have had, if you died young. It's very rare that you get permakits or permapprentices. I lifted from the COTC story about Smallstar and his siblings.

(Though, in BB those kits actually survive and it's MAPLESHADE’S kits who lead to the law on protecting children, Darkstar's Commandment, the Queen’s Rights. Smallstar is the leader of WindClan and xey're super chill. Xey own a lovely shawl.)

So Snowkit chooses to appear as Snowcarve, an Honor Title he would have earned for the creation of a full written Clan cat language, expanded from the simple glyphs. I'm not sure if he's a popular patron, but I do know that Bramble and Tawny invoke him sometimes.

Unfortunately though he's more invoked for general guidance by the two of them, not for possibilities like I think he'd like. He watches over them though, like a guardian angel. A lot of cats secretly have those.

I'm not sure who he follows around more often though. I think he LIKES following Tawny more because she's a better listener to his omens. But he feels like Bramble NEEDS him more, y'know?

Also notably, Snowcarve was technically their uncle, but the relationship is best described as "1st cousin." Rabnir in Clanmew, a familial role about somewhat distant but parallel growth, seen also with Brightpaw and Swiftpaw.

#Snowcarve has a lot of opinions on the Clan and its actions #I think he really strongly dislikes how they tried to 'honor' him with Whitewing #She's deaf and serious but he doesn't feel like they're very alike at all. She doesn't even like glyphs.#I think in general he feels a lot of resentment about how they remember him as something so innocent and simple #One of the interesting implications of how dead kids work in BB that I haven't explored much is--#--that they will be remembered for the most simple part of their existence #But they're like angels. They have a lot of tasks and jobs they carry out and they learn all that #And see what they could have been on earth. And even claim it. They aren't connected to that innocent image of themselves #Or even to the mortal plane in general. They have a stronger connection to the celestial one #So sometimes a parent will live a whole life thinking of the baby they lost #Only to meet their adult child in the afterlife.#BB!Snowcarve #There's a couple relevant young-angels actually I should write a blurb for the most important ones #Mole Moss Shrew and Snow.#Tw child death #Tw ableism

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avatar-anna · 8 months

Note

I was thinking you could do a “5 times y/n told Harry she was pregnant” for the young!dad series !! That would be so interesting especially since in the last piece you mentioned that Harry already had a feeling she was pregnant before she even told him

The Thing About Having Six Kids

so i got this ask and a couple others that were kind of about the kids' birth/pregnancy a while ago, and went with five different instances about each kid in the youngdadrry universe. it's all surrounding their birth, finding out about pregnancies, etc. enjoy!

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

Simone

(a text conversation between Harry and Y/n)

Y/n: i'm pregnant

(one day later)

Y/n: Harry?

Harry: Are you sure?

Y/n: i'm sure

Y/n: i have four different pregnancy tests to prove it

Harry: I don't know what to say.

Y/n: the 24 hours it took you to respond kind of told me that

Harry: I'm sorry about that. It's just...a lot

Y/n: it's fine i guess. at least you finally responded.

Harry: Did you think I wouldn't?

Y/n: honestly? yeah. it's not like we're married or in love or anything. you don't even live in the same country as me

Harry: What are you going to do?

Harry: I know but I wouldn't just like disappear on you

Harry: I was just shocked that's all

Y/n: idk. i'm still trying to figure out a way to tell my parents

Harry: Shit my parents!

Y/n: that's kinda where i'm at right now

Y/n: but i think i want to keep it

Y/n: the baby

Y/n: fuck that sounds crazy to say. i have physics homework due tomorrow but let me stop and make a life altering decision really quick about whether i want to have a baby or not

Harry: I'm sorry. You know...

Y/n: for getting me pregnant? knocking me up? putting a bun in the oven?

Harry: It seems too early to joke about this

Y/n: it's keeping me from freaking the fuck out at the moment

(ten minutes later)

Harry: I want to talk about this properly and figure this whole thing out but I have to go

Y/n: please don't feel obligated or anything. this was just a courtesy

Y/n: i don't expect anything from you. i get it if your management wants you to delete my number and never see me again. i just thought you should know.

Harry: What are you talking about?

Harry: Y/n?

3 missed calls from Him <3

Collette

"Let's have another baby."

Y/n was close to nodding off, so it was very possible that she was dreaming. She looked behind her. It was dark in the bedroom, but Harry was close enough that she could see him, could see that his head was propped on his elbow so he could look down at her.

"What did you say?" she asked, because she needed to be sure.

"I...I want another baby," he said, voice soft even though they were the only two people in the room. Simone was fast asleep in her own bedroom, tuckered out after a long day of playing at the park and eating ice cream and fingerpainting with Harry. Now that One Direction was officially on hiatus, it was just the three of them—Y/n, Harry, and Simone. Y/n thought it would take some getting used to, living a relatively normal life. But their little family actually fell into it quite easily.

Perhaps a little too easily.

"Say something."

Y/n hadn't realized she failed to respond, but to be fair, that was a pretty big bomb her husband just dropped. Her husband. They'd been married for a few months now, but it still felt surreal, which was probably why the idea of having another baby felt too far from reality to comprehend.

"I just...I don't know what to say," Y/n said honestly. "I—I'm not sure we're ready for that."

"We weren't ready the first time," Harry said when Y/n finally flipped on her other side to face him. This seemed like a conversation he really wanted to have, so she thought facing him would probably be best. "I just think this might be the time, you know? I don't have an insane schedule anymore, there's no more management to say that we can't, and I've always thought about giving Simone a sibling. Don't tell me you've never thought about it."

"I...I have," Y/n said.

She did think about more kids. As young as she and Harry were and as impossible as their relationship seemed at times, Y/n couldn't help but think about wanting more. She loved Harry, and she'd been loving these moments they'd been able to share as a proper family recently. Harry was right, if they wanted to have another baby, now would be the time.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he said as she felt more than saw his hand push some hair away from her face.

"What happens when you start working again?" Y/n asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you, H," she said. "And I love you. Everything about you. And one of the parts that make you who you are is the music. This...this little bubble we're in, I love it too, but I know you'll want to go back to it someday. And then you'll go on tour for ten months, and I'll be alone to raise two kids by myself for a majority of the year."

It was harsh, but she trusted him enough to take it. This was the thought that always held her back. Y/n thought about the possibility of expanding their family on more than one occasion, especially in recent weeks when things have been practically perfect. But the reality was that Harry would want to go back to work. She knew, maybe better than anyone, the desire he had to make his own music, to create and write in ways he couldn't while in the band. And perform. Harry loved to perform live. Y/n knew that this time spent with just their family was fleeting, and she cherished every minute of it, the same way she knew Harry did. It was only a matter of time before he went back to work, and she wasn't sure she could raise Simone and a newborn without him.

"That's...That's all over now," Harry said. When Y/n tried to protest, he continued on. "What I meant to say was, the ridiculous schedules, the strict rules about when we can and can't spend time together, the separate hotel rooms. Mama, things can be different now."

"But management—"

"I bought out my contract," he said. "I haven't really given it much thought in a while because I just want to be present with you and Simone, but I've got a few people in mind for new managers. People who will prioritize our family."

This was certainly news to Y/n. It was hard to talk about Harry's management or the harsh thumb they pinned him under, so oftentimes it was a topic they avoided. Hearing him say this now, knowing how much money it would've taken to buy out his contract...that was a huge deal. As far as she knew, the other boys were just sticking with it until the contracts were finished. But Harry went and did what Y/n didn't even think was possible.

"Our family," Y/n repeated, and for a moment, she could see it. The three of them becoming four. It was crazy to think about, to think so far ahead into the future, but Y/n wasn't scared by it.

"Let's have another baby," Harry said again.

Looking at him, Y/n's heart squeezed in her chest. He'd been growing his hair out for a while now, and it was long enough that it reached just passed his shoulders. She loved it, thought it made him look older, more mature. And okay, hot. And Simone loved it too. She loved braiding it and putting bows and flowers in it or just twisting it around her finger. His shoulders were broad and lean, though he'd put on a little muscle in his arms from doing handiwork around the house, something he claimed he loved to do even though Y/n had heard him curse from another room while he worked on his latest project.

She looked at his face, the one that looked so different yet so similar to the one she'd met when she was seventeen. She wondered what those teenagers would think of the people they'd become, of the things they'd seen and experienced.

She thought about it. The baby-to-be. It would have Harry's eyes and smile, her nose and hair color. If it was a girl, she could wear matching outfits with Simone, if it was a boy...Well, they could maybe still match. Y/n thought about all the baby clothes—the adorable little onesies and shoes and mittens to keep the baby from scratching their face while they slept. She didn't let herself think of the late nights and sore boobs and dirty diapers. In this moment, she just thought about all the good feelings, every perfect moment that could be.

"You promise things will be different? I can't—I can't do it alone," she said, needing to hear him say it again.

Harry didn't try to kiss her, he didn't put his hands on her waist or pull her to his chest—all tactics he would normally use to distract her. This conversation was too serious, too important, and she loved him all the more for understanding that.

"I promise, Y/n," he said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. "I will never make you regret living this life with me."

"That's not what I—"

"I know, but I just...I needed to say it."

He needed to make that promise to her, to himself. Life had not been easy, and Y/n knew Harry blamed himself for a lot of the hardships they faced.

"I don't," she said, kissing their joined hands. "And I won't. Ever. "

Harry grinned, and Y/n could tell even in the dark that his gaze was a little watery. Still, he inched forward and said, "So...?"

Y/n leaned forward and kissed him, her leg slotting between his. "Let's have another baby."

Maeve and Jules

"I'm sorry, did you just say twins?"

"I did. I'm seeing two heartbeats here. See?" The doctor said, pointing at the monitor she'd been observing closely the last five minutes.

Y/n couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. It was one thing to be pregnant (again), but an entirely different one to be pregnant with twins. "That's—"

"Amazing," Harry breathed.

Y/n turned her head away from the monitor to look at her husband, whose eyes were glued to the screen with a look of wonder in them. As she'd begun to process her own feelings about housing not one but two babies in her belly for nine months, she hadn't really considered how he might feel about it.

Looking at him now, she could tell he was ecstatic.

Y/n was still panicking a little, but seeing the elation on Harry's face was comforting. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it hard, needing to feel the warmth of his palm to ground her.

"Hey," he said softly, bending down to kiss the top of her head. "This is a good thing. Unexpected, but good."

"I know," Y/n said, letting out a shaky breath. "I know it's just...a lot. I mean...twins?"

"Nothing we can't handle," Harry said, kissing her cheek.

His confidence was reassuring. Maybe he was freaking out on the inside and not letting it show for her sake, but Y/n felt better about the situation at hand and was ready to continue with the appointment.

To the doctor, she said, "Are they healthy?"

The doctor smiled warmly. "They are. It looks like one of them is about a week behind, but that's nothing to worry about."

"Really? They're twins. That doesn't seem possible," Harry said, his brow furrowing adorably.

"It's rare, but it is possible. Fraternal twins can be conceived as much as twenty-four days apart," the doctor said.

Y/n understood perhaps a split-second before Harry, but when he did, he turned as beet red as she felt. The doctor didn't seem to mind their embarrassment, though she'd probably seen all sorts of couples and situations. Y/n imagined there wasn't much that the doctor hadn't seen before.

The appointment wrapped up pretty quickly after that. Harry snuck out of the hospital through a separate door while Y/n set up her next appointment. She met him in the staff parking lot, where he was standing by the passenger door to help her in. Harry gave her a quick kiss before closing her in and walking around to the driver's side. As he drove, Y/n was thinking about a number of things—twice the amount of clothes, twice the amount of crying, twice the amount of diaper changes. She was excited at the prospect of having a baby. It was a conversation she and Harry had before they started trying, but the idea of twins was a lot to wrap her head around.

She looked at Harry, wanting to ask how he felt now that they were alone, but she stopped herself.

Harry had one hand on the steering wheel, the other covering a wide grin. He was blushing a little too, and Y/n couldn't help but ask what had him smiling like an idiot.

"I'm trying to figure out which times," he said.

"What do you mean which—Are you kidding? Which times we conceived the twins?"

"Aren't you curious?" Harry asked. "Twice, babe. I put a baby in you twice. I mean, one of them had to be when we were on the yacht, right? I always feel good after we have sex, but I feel like we really outdid ourselves there. Clearly."

Y/n just looked at her husband in shock. "You are..."

"What? It's cool!" Harry insisted, but he was laughing too. "And it takes the edge off a little. Come on, you try."

So he was more nervous than he was letting on. That was comforting in its own way too, but Y/n appreciated his attempts to lighten the mood. They could have a serious conversation later, but for now it was fun to just forget all of that. Just for a moment.

Y/n gave him a dry look, trying to appear like she wasn't impressed until she eventually rolled her eyes and smiled. "Mm...I agree with the yacht, and...when you came back from London."

"Really?" Harry asked, more curious than surprised.

"Yeah," Y/n said with a little sigh as she remembered the night in question. "That was a good night."

It was one of those rare occurrences where Simone was in her own bed and Collette managed to sleep for more than a couple hours. They'd spent the whole night catching up and giggling like idiots and kissing and enjoying the pleasure of being truly alone with each other. Y/n loved those moments with Harry, where everything was just so simple and easy and it was just them having a little fun. They definitely should've been catching up on sleep while they could, but neither of them wanted to, so they stayed up with tired smiles and slurred movements until they heard Collette's cries through the baby monitor.

"It was. We should do that again sometime," Harry said. Taking Y/n's hand, he kissed the tops of her knuckles.

"You just want to go for triplets," Y/n teased, even though she knew that wasn't what he meant.

"I'm not that crazy," he said, but his smile told her he was thinking about the possibility. Maybe just a little. "I'm excited for this."

"Yeah? What do you think? Boys? Girls? A boy and a girl?"

Harry shrugged. "Our track record would suggest girls, but..."

"You never know," Y/n finished for him.

Geneva

"We have some pretty big news to share."

Once a month, the Styles family held a Zoom call with their friends and family who were scattered across the globe. Since lockdown began, there was a lot of adjusting—online school, not being able to go to the park to play, being at home all day. It was a lot for everyone, but Harry and Y/n did their best to make the adjustments smoother. And when they needed a break, they set up the monthly Zoom calls.

They were mostly just to catch up. Once all the children went to sleep, Harry and Y/n stayed up late talking to other adults about everything and nothing, maybe even played a different drinking game or two to round out the night before they went back to being parents. Tonight was a special night, though.

Multiple faces looked at Harry and Y/n expectantly through their computer screen. Both of them were sporting big smiles as Y/n leaned on Harry's side, one of his older sweatshirts covering her body and the almost imperceptible bump that was beginning to show now. Today was the first day she'd begun to show, and Harry nearly lost his mind with excitement. Finding out Y/n was pregnant had been somewhat of a surprise, but when she told him, he was over the moon. He's started to suspect, having recognized some of his wife's symptoms by now, but they'd been waiting for the right time to tell their families and friends, and tonight was the night.

"What's going on, darling?" Anne asked.

Neither Harry nor Y/n could barely contain their excitement, which probably gave away the news before they actually said anything. However, in their own eagerness to share the news, neither of them saw a few people on the call sporting knowing looks.

"We're having a baby!"

Cheers went all around as everyone congratulated the couple. Questions were asked about due dates and how far along they were and what they were going to do about the lockdown situation. Everything was just as Harry had hoped it would be.

And then things took an interesting turn.

"Who won?" Jeff asked.

"Won? What do you mean—"

"If my math is correct, which I'm pretty sure it is, I believe it goes to Gem," Sarah said, looking down at her phone. "She went with three and a half months. Glenne narrowly missed with three. No one had four so it goes to Gemma."

A collective groan went throughout the Zoom, leaving Harry and Y/n very confused.

"Did you place bets on us?" Y/n asked, sounding more astonished than offended.

"When lockdown became permanent, we knew it was a matter of when not if we would be getting the announcement," Jeff explained. "Someone has a physical copy of the pool somewhere."

"And all of you did this? Mum?" Harry said, brows raised higher than Y/n had ever seen them. When Anne nodded sheepishly, Y/n had to stifle a laugh. "So none of you were surprised?"

"I love you, dear, and I'm so so happy for you, but since you were seventeen, anytime you've come to me with big news, it's been about having a baby. For my own sanity, I've just come to expect it."

Harry looked down at Y/n, who was grinning behind her hand. For her husband's sake, her gaze softened as she reached up to kiss his cheek. "I mean, they have a point. Even you guessed it before I told you."

As the shock finally wore off, Harry smiled. He supposed it wasn't the worst thing in the world. So, he and Y/n were predictable, even though they hadn't really been trying this time around. They were in love and had a lot more time together currently. Things were finally back on track for them and their relationship troubles seemed behind them now. They were happy, and as long as his family was happy, some light teasing and bet placing seemed harmless.

He did pin everyone on the screen with a mock glare before moving on, though. "You guys made a whole pool. Really?"

"Yeah. Can you believe Jeff thought it would take eight months for you to get pregnant?"

"It was for the adjustment to lockdown period!"

"Eight months?"

And on and on it went. Harry just smiled and rested his hand over Y/n's belly, thinking about how much it would grow in just a few short weeks.

Natalia

"I want Mommy!"

Harry sighed and pulled his only son into his lap, pushing the curls away from his face and wiping the tears from his cheeks. "I know you do, JuJu."

Harry and the kids were waiting to hear from Y/n's mother, but he hadn't gotten so much as a text. He was anxious, worried that something was wrong, but Julian's crying served as a good distraction for the time being.

Julian continued to cry, still not understanding why he couldn't see his mother when he'd become so used to seeing her everyday. Harry would've been with Y/n had it not been for the little boy's crying, and he made the split-second decision to stay home while Y/n delivered the baby with her mother as support. He'd never missed any of his children's births, but for this, he could stay behind.

"She'll be back soon, bubba, I promise," Harry said, kissing Julian's cheeks and holding him close. "Should we go play with your Lego set? I know you've been excited to build it. Maybe we can build something to show Mummy when she gets home."

Julian shook his head and continued to cry into Harry's neck. Realizing his son was content to be miserable, Harry didn't ask again. He sat with Jules for a while, holding the boy to his chest and running a hand through his hair until his sobs turned into sniffles, and the sniffles into long, slow breaths. He waited a few extra minutes before taking Julian up to his room and setting him on his bed, making sure to place his favorite stuffed animal in his arms before leaving him to sleep off his troubles. As he walked away, Harry sort of wished he could do the same.

Every birth had been different. When Y/n had Simone, it hadn't been extraordinarily long, but it was extraordinarily stressful due to their young age. Collette was a fairly quick birth, perhaps a little too quick, seeing as Y/n barely made it to a hospital bed before the baby started crowning. The twins came early, which was apparently common for twins, but that didn't make it any less surprising to Harry and Y/n, especially because Harry was at the grocery store and Y/n was at the park with Simone and Collette and a nanny who was also there had to call an ambulance. Even still, Geneva's birth was probably the scariest, only because of all the rules and regulations brought on by Covid. Y/n's mother quarantined for two weeks so she could stay at the house while Harry and Y/n went to the hospital, as Y/n could only have one person in the room with her.

And now a year later, they were doing it all over again. Harry had been confident that this birth would go off without a hitch, that everything would be just fine, but the lack of word from his wife or mother-in-law made him nervous.

Later that day, Harry was still waiting. He'd gotten a text from Y/n's mother, which let him know that Y/n still wasn't ready to push but that they were getting close. That was an hour ago, and Harry had to believe that it was all happening now.

And he was missing it.

He knew being here with the rest of his children was important. That they were worried about their mother and probably found Harry's presence comforting. He just wished they could all be there in the waiting room instead of at home and fifteen minutes from the hospital. The not-knowing was killing him, and he was pretty sure his kids could sense it.

"Daddy?"

Harry's eyes flicked to where Collette was standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She was in her pajamas, a shirt and matching pair of bottoms with her favorite cartoon on them. Harry had been pacing around his room, his phone gripped tightly in his hand as he waited for someone to call him, but seeing his second daughter standing there, squinting at the light from his bedside table lamp told him he was up a little later than normal.

"Hi, peanut. What are you doing out of bed?" he asked.

Collette shrugged, her hair catching the light. She wiped at her nose and stepped further into the room until she stood in front of him. "Mommy always braids my hair before I go to sleep."

"She does, doesn't she?" Harry agreed. "She's kind of the best, huh?"

Nodding, Collette turned toward his bed and climbed up on it, looking at him expectantly. Even after having four daughters, Harry wasn't an expert at braiding hair. The girls always went to Y/n before school, and she did each of their braids or ponytails or pigtails happily. Harry always made sure to watch with a keen eye, and practiced on Y/n when she let him. He supposed now it was time to put all his practice to work.

The braiding didn't take long, and Harry didn't do half bad, in his humble opinion. Collette was just going to sleep in it anyway, so he wasn't too bummed by the few loose strands that he'd somehow missed.

He'd finished rather quickly, though Collette didn't slide off the bed to go back to her room. In fact, she nestled under the covers on Y/n's side of the bed, mumbling, "Night Daddy," before falling asleep. Harry didn't really mind. It wasn't the first time one of the kids stayed in his and Y/n's bed, and tonight, he figured he could use some company.

What he wasn't expecting was all of his children to stumble into his room. First it was Maeve, then Jules, then Simone, and finally Harry went to get Geneva, just so it was a proper sleepover. No one fought for space—which was a first. All the kids just found their spot and went back to sleep as if they were in their own rooms. Harry resisted the urge to take a picture so as not to wake anyone up with the flash of his phone's camera.

He hadn't planned on falling asleep. One moment he'd been watching a football game with the volume off, and the next he was blinking his eyes open as the sun began to stream in through the curtains. All of his little ones were still fast asleep, though Harry knew that would change soon. Maeve and Simone woke up early to watch morning cartoons, and Geneva would want her bottle within the hour.

Harry began to shuffle around and prepare for the usual morning routine—brush teeth, ok prepare the bottle, make breakfast for the early risers—when his phone rang. Startled, Harry rushed over to where his phone was plugged in, a huge grin splitting his face when he realized it was a video call from Y/n.

"Hi," Harry whispered, careful not to wake anyone up. "How are you? How's the baby? Is everything—"

"I'm fine, H. Everything's fine. Everything's perfect," Y/n said, a sleepy smile on her face.

Hearing that helped his heart stop racing, but only a little, as excitement flooded his veins. Y/n called him, which could only mean that—

"Wanna meet your daughter?" Y/n said, and even through the phone, Harry could see tears line her eyes.

Harry nodded, too overwhelmed with love and anticipation to form words. Quickly, he found an unoccupied spot on his bed and carefully sat down.

Y/n passed the phone to her mother who angled the phone so that Harry could see the baby, whose face was just barely visible through a pink blanket. He immediately felt tears well in his eyes, his throat going dry as he looked down at his daughter. Even through the phone, he felt every emotion he'd ever experienced when meeting his children for the first time. It was the most unique experience, Harry always thought. He'd seen and done so much, yet he still thought there was nothing like looking down at his newborn baby for the first time.

"Is that baby sister?"

Harry looked behind him to find Julian peering over his shoulder. Jules looked at the sleeping baby curiously, taking in his sister's little nose and tiny fingers and pouted lips. Then, he said, "Is Mommy there too?"

The camera panned up to Y/n, who was smiling and blowing kisses to Julian. "Hi JuJu, my love. I've missed you!"

"Mommy!"

"Mommy?"

"Mommy's home?"

Now everyone was up and crowding around Harry, taking turns talking to Y/n and baby sister, who had yet to be given a name. No one seemed to mind, though. If anything, they were more concerned about when Y/n and the baby would be coming home so they could have a party.

"Soon, my loves. The doctor wants me and the baby to stay one more night to make sure we're healthy. You think you can be good for Daddy?"

There was a chorus of yeses before everyone said their goodbyes, the novelty of a new baby sister wearing off when there were cartoons to be watched downstairs. Harry kept Y/n on the phone while he got Geneva's bottle ready, wanting to stay on the phone as long as possible.

"I know you must be tired," Harry said an hour later. He was in GiGi's nursery and watching her toddle around and play with her toys while talking to his wife.

"I'll hang up soon. I want you to get as much screen time as possible before I go," she said, turning the camera to where the baby was sleeping in the bassinet beside her hospital bed.

"Have you given her a name yet?" he asked.

Y/n shook her head. "I know we decided on one, but I wanted you to be with me when I said it for the first time."

"I love you," Harry said as his heart melted to mush.

"I love you too," Y/n said. She lifted the baby out of the bassinet, cradling her head with the expertise of someone who'd done it for years. Looking at Harry through the phone she said, "You wanna do the honors?"

Laughing out of pure bliss, he nodded. With all the tenderness and care he would've used if he'd been there in person, he said, "Welcome to this crazy, crazy world, Natalia Styles."

995 notes · View notes

jarofstyles · 7 months

Text

FICTOBER DAY 5- Can I Hold Your Hand?

Here is day 4, a bit of cutie dadrry <3 Enjoy!

FICTOBER Prompt list and Masterlist

Patreon

WC-700+

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“Can I hold your hand?” The small voice peeped up at him. Their son in his train conductor costume had been insistent that he was too big to hold his father’s hand, he was a big boy now and he could do trick or treating all by himself.

Y/N pushed the baby carriage, his little sister still a drooly little baby with a plush pumpkin costume on her body and a tiny hat on her head to keep her warm as the october air chilled up. His wife was dressed up in a poodle skirt and letterman jacket, a little tie around her neck and a bouncy ponytail bobbing as she walked. Harry had chosen function this halloween, wearing jeans and a black leather jacket. His saddle shoes were the only thing he purchased for the getup, his hair slicked back in a 50’s like manner- except that one strand that escaped and curled over his head. Y/N had been adamant he not try and fix it, it apparently did something to her.

“Yeah? Not too big to hold my hand now, mate?” He teased, placing his hand down for the smaller one to take. Their gait was slow, their son not the fastest with his Thomas the Tank Engine soft cut out around his body. It made him a big more clumsy, too, which is why Harry was glad Y/N had put knee guards and gloves on him.

“No. I’m am big, but I don’t like all the noises.” He tried to maintain, but the spooky music filtering through the neighborhood and sound effects of the motion sensor activated decor making the poor thing jump. Hell, one of those things had even made Harry clutch his chest as he had approached the front door to ring for candy. What was with these things getting more and more accessible to the public? He remembered the only time he used to see these things were in haunted houses he went to in uni. Now it seemed everyone on the block had a jumpscare waiting to strike. Stupid screaming skeleton.

“It’s okay, baby.” Y/N crooned. “Did you know that on one of our first dates, Daddy took me to see a movie and got so scared he screeched?” It was true, but it was justified. Most of the room had jumped or made a noise too- it just so happened that his had been a bit more loud and high pitched than he would have liked.

Harry looked at her with narrowed eyes, scoffing as his wife grinned like the little shit she was. Really? “Are you ever going to let me live that down? I told you, it was just a bad jump scare. You jumped too.” He looked towards their son, who was giggling simply because Y/N was. “Mumma’s being silly. It’s not a bad thing to scream either, it’s natural.”

“But you’re so big and old, Daddy. You can’t get scared.” He giggled, his fingers squeezing on to Harry’s as they approached another pathway to go up to the house. It was decked out in cobwebs and had some cool orange and purple lighting, spooky sound effects filtering through hidden speakers in the bushes. The howl of a wolf sounded, having him step closer to Harry’s leg. “You go with me?”

“What’s this, then hm? Make fun of me for being scared and then asking me to go?” He ruffled the conductor hat on his head. “You’re lucky I love you loads and Mumma is afraid of the spiders in those webs or I’d made you go with her.” It was all in jest, Y/N simply shrugging. How was she supposed to know what spiders were fake or real? It would be a perfect place for one to hide and jump into her hair!

“It’s okay to be afraid of things, baby. Your father is just silly. Even sillier than me.” Her hand came up to squish Harry’s chin, letting her lipstick give a big kiss mark on his cheek, the bright red in the perfect shape of her lips. When she pulled back, there were loud giggles as the mark was revealed. Harry didn’t mind, clearly, blushing slightly as he knew exactly what she had done, but to their son it was apparently the funniest thing in the world. Y/N shot him a playful glare before threatening him with the same. “Go on, then. Or you’re getting a kiss mark from me too. Grab Mumma a chocolate if there is one.”

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missmeinyourbones · 2 years

Text

MADE WITH LOVE (dad!gojo satoru x reader)

tags: dad!gojo, reader referred to as “mama” a few times, maybe the same universe as this lil drabble i wrote, not proofread bc i woke myself up with this idea and needed it down on paper asap (wc: 1.1k+)

Mornings are never smooth in the Gojo household. With a rapidly-growing toddler for a daughter, who has almost the exact same charming personality as her (toddler-like) father, it was rare for you to spend a morning in bed before the sun comes up. The two of them were always up to something, and whether that something was good or bad was often unknown.

A tiny little hushed mama causes your eyes to blearily blink open. Your hand gently rubs them of sleep a few times, adjusting to the light peaking through the curtains from outside.

It’s light out, you mentally note, meaning it can’t be any earlier than 7:00am, at least. She usually wakes you and Satoru up within the hour anyways, but as you reach behind you to grab your husband, you’re met with a handful of empty sheets.

With a furrowed brow and confused expression, your eyes fall onto the tiny figure gently poking your forearm—your daughter stands before you, face mischievously contorted into a smirk as she waits for you to address her presence.

While the grin adorning her face is identical to her father’s, she looks just like you—from the hairs on her stubborn head to the tips of her little toes. You gently smile to yourself as you think of all the times Satoru would complain of her not getting any of his good looks, though their personalities are all the same.

With a quick glance over of her status—she doesn’t appear to be hurt and she’s not crying, she actually seems rather pleased with herself—you let your eyes peacefully close once more.

“S’anyone bleeding?” you mumble, voice still laced with sleep.

“No,” she states matter-of-factly, shaking her head.

“Is the house on fire?”

“No,” a fit of giggles follows this response.

“Then gimme a few more minutes,” your head returns to the pillow and your daughter grumpily sighs as she watches you further snuggle into the comforter.

Eventually, the quick little patter of footsteps leaves your room, allowing you to rest again—that is, until you hear your husband’s booming voice coming from the kitchen.

You can practically see him behind your closed lids—sitting wide-legged at the kitchen table, coffee mug in hand as he keeps up with your daughters quick-paced conversation style with ease. You assume she left your bedroom to run out to him, reporting back that you were still in bed. You faintly hear Satoru egg her on with an excited, “You have to get mama up! Say it’s an emergency, or something.”

You snort out a chuckle, because the fact that you can practically hear the grin in his voice, and based on your daughter’s response of giggles, you know he’s a liar—the both of them are.

Not even seconds later, the sound of tiny bare feet against your hardwood floors picks up speed, getting closer to where you lay.

“Mama,” your daughter returns, this time more confident in her story as she no longer whispers, “It’s an emergency!”

“Then get your father.”

“Daddy says it’s an emergency,” she retaliates, and between the two of them, you know that you returning to sleep is about as realistic as seeing pigs fly.

With a sigh and a defeated okay okay, you let your feet hit the floor as you sit up on the side of your bed. Your daughter, practically bouncing out of her little skin, is grabbing your hand and attempting to quickly usher you into the kitchen.

Once you’re standing up and walking down the hallway, she darts down ahead of you and disappears around the corner leading the kitchen. As you follow her, you’re surprised to see the tiny table for three set with dishes and silverware, covered with a messily-made breakfast. A stack of pancakes—some charred to a crisp while others appear to be slightly undercooked—sits in the center plate. A few side dishes with bacon, fried potatoes, and cut up melon are scattered across the cluttered table.

You finally lay eyes on your husband for the first time this morning, as he walks over to you with you daughter perched on his hips and two hot coffee mugs in either hand. You hold your tongue from telling him to be careful with the drinks around her. He knows.

“What’s all this?” you softly inquire as Gojo sets the mugs down, using his spare hand to pull a chair out for you, gesturing you to sit down and relish their good-hearted surprise.

“Just a lil somethin’ for the best mama ever,” he quips with a quick peck to your lips, “Sorry for waking you up, it was gonna get cold.”

Before you can answer him, your daughter is jumping out of his arms, grabbing the carton of milk from the fridge, and proudly shoving it into your hands for you to pour into your coffee.

“Thank you, my baby,” you coo as you accept her offering, placing a kiss on her chubby cheek.

Seeing your reaction, Satoru is not far behind his little girl, wearing a flirty grin and presenting his own cheek for you to kiss.

“And thank you, my other baby,” you entertain him, peppering his pale face a few times, before meeting his lips for a sweet kiss.

Eventually, the two of them join you at the table, and your little family sits down for your favorite time of the day. Satoru cuts your daughters pancakes for her, before letting her pour on a far too large amount of syrup onto them. You pass around pieces of melon, laughing at the odd variety of shapes and sizes they've been cut into. While the food itself is no five-star meal, you wouldn’t have it any other way—as it was made with love from your two favorite instigators.

“Mama?” your daughter pipes up, wiping her face with a napkin as she grins mischievously.

“Yes, baby?” you appease her, taking a sip of your coffee and letting it’s warmth hug you further into the coziness of the scene engulfing you.

“Daddy says I’m gonna be a big sister soon.”

You shoot Satoru a glare as he shrugs his shoulders and raises his hands in defeat.

He remains quiet as he smirks, taking a moment to admire the filled-to-capacity table as he sits with his girls. He watches your daughter excitedly talk about her hypothetical sibling, going into great detail about how she’ll be the best big sister ever—even offering to help out with changing stinky diapers and sharing her many toys.

As you tell her that you plan to hold her to that if the day ever comes, she’s excusing herself from the table and darting to her playroom to show you her newest drawing. You raise your eyebrows at Satoru from across the table, but once again, you’re met with his sly grin and shrugging shoulders.

He grabs your hand from across the tiny table, pressing a few kisses to your knuckles before standing up to go follow your daughter. As his lips are gently pressed around your knuckles, he feigns a gesture of faux innocence.

“Kids and their crazy stories, huh?”

#gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru fic #gojo fic #satoru fluff #gojo fluff #satoru blurb #gojo blurb #satoru drabble #gojo drabble #dad!gojo #dad!satoru #parent au

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m3talmunson · 10 months

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Steve Harrington except his mom comes from old money, his father new. So while Steve's mom took his father's last name (reluctantly. She was doing her best to promise that her son would have a good life ahead of him), she got to choose Steve's first, which just happens not to be Steve.

His name is actually Esteban Eberardo Ortiz Harrington, because by God, Maria Harrington would never let her son have an English name since she had to give up her own to promise her son a decent life.

Somewhere along the way she got lost in it all. She chased Mr. Harrington around to make sure he wasn't sleeping with whatever floozie secretary he had at the moment, and in doing so she forgot to be a mother - as much as somebody can just forget that duty.

So, one day Esteban got dropped off at his grandpa's house and became Steve. Then one day Steve's grandfather died and Steve didn't even see his father at the funeral. His father, the dead man's son, sent Maria with flowers to the funeral. Flowers she didn't have a destination for. So, the moment it was over she dragged Steve and the flowers back to the dust-covered Harrington home. She makes some dinner and has a nice night with her son, but as they curl up on the couch and try to settle for the night, she brings him up.

"Mijo, your father. I have to go back to him tomorrow. I have a plane ride in the morning. I have to go sweetheart." She blinks back the tears in her eyes as she delivers the news.

"It's ok mama! I'm 10 now, double digits." He holds out both of his hands, all of his fingers splayed out. "I can take care of things here." He put on his best brave face, something Grandpa Harrington taught him.

"Grandma is going to visit you as much as she can, but she doesn't live near here. You'll be on your own a lot, my sweet sweet boy." She let the tears run at this point, ignoring the musical she had put on the TV to occupy their thoughts.

"Don't cry mama," He curled up into her side. "Wait, Grandma? But she's been gone for longer than Grandpa?"

"No, no, my mama. She'll be up here every so often for you. My brave boy." She kissed the top of Steve's head, peppered a few more against Steve's complaints of tickling.

"Come on mama, Dolly's singing!" He said, and drew his attention back to the TV like it was nothing. They fell asleep on the couch that night. Mr. Harrington never would have approved, but maybe he just didn't need to know.

And that began the life of Steve being alone. At least, most of the time. His grandma did come up every so often. She taught him how to cook, clean, where the stools were, and which ones were tall enough for him to reach the cookie jar. The same cookie jar that stayed in place just incase his parents did come home and happen to give half a shit about it.

When she couldn't be there, over the phone, she taught her little Esteban Spanish. His father never allowed it in the house, but the moment she insisted she be called Abuelita and not Grandma, she piqued Esteban's interest.

He was interested until he got made fun of for the accent. He continued to learn it, but insisted that he be called Steve, the same way she insisted he call her something else. That set the record straight for him.

During high school, she got too frail for him to visit. The Harrington's put money in the bank for Steve, so he began to visit her. He'd fly down to where she was staying, drive once he could. Steve got his license the very first day he could, just to visit her. He planned her funeral when the day came, just a month before Will Byers went missing. That kept him in contact with quite a few of his cousins that way, checked in on everyone and made the rounds while he tried to remain a normal teenager, have a normal girlfriend, live as King Steve, or Steve "The Hair" Harrington. Anything that kept his life nice and neatly in place.

Then, a stupid nail bat was his lifeline. Screw normal, he couldn't trust anyone or anything anymore. Two years later, he got tortured by Russians and then, maybe he could trust someone.

Somewhere between his fall from grace and saving the world for good, he grew to trust a lot of people. Grew to have people at his house all the time, filling that god awful empty house.

He had Eddie over one night when he got a call from his cousin Mariana, she had just finished her freshman year of college in the US, so her English was getting pretty good, but she greeted him in Spanish so he can only return the favor. Steve guessed it was only a matter of time until Eddie and the others found out about him anyways.

So, he responded to Mariana. He had an entire conversation with her, back to the couch that Eddie was sat on. Last he knew Eddie was flipping through movies, but all the noises stopped. At least Steve could assume that maybe he just picked a movie, and maybe get hurt or yelled at or something after the call. He just had to get through this conversation with Mariana.

He heard the crash of tapes falling and had to end it.

"Sorry Mari, I've got to go." He said abruptly in English, and tried his hardest not to slam the phone back into the receiver.

When he turned around, he didn't expect what he saw. Sure, Eddie's jaw was basically on the floor, but he didn't seem angry, not like Steve had expected.

"You- you speak Spanish, Stevie?" Eddie had almost a shocked rasp to his voice, clutching onto the tape in his hand, the one that managed to not fall.

"Yeah, have for about 8 or 9 years now."

"You, Steve Harrington, are fluent in Spanish?"

"Esteban Eberardo Ortiz Harrington, actually. And yeah, my mom is Mexican."

"Est- Esteban???" Eddie laughed out. "Good God Stevie-"

"I know, I know, I should have told you sooner. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hide it, I just- it's hard walking around Hawkins with a Spanish accent, it's just so-" He interrupted Eddie.

"Steve, Stevie, no." It was Eddie's turn to interrupt. "I'm not mad at you sweetheart. Definitely not mad." Eddie hinted at something else.

"You're not mad? What- I-" Steve raised his eyebrow. "What's that look about then?"

Eddie had been out to Steve for a while, and vice-versa. They hadn't exactly not been flirting, so Eddie didn't feel too crazy saying this next part.

"If I'm being so honest, Stevie," Eddie stepped closer into Steve's personal space, "I wouldn't say completely platonic feelings."

"Oh, that's what does it for you, Munson? Really?" Steve teased. Back with the bravado charm.

"I dunno... want to say some more?"

And, of course, the moment he hears it again -the accent Steve's voice works itself into- he's basically frothing at the mouth. He drops the tape he was holding and swings his arms around Steve's neck, only a little awkward considering the lack of height difference.

"I guess it is, Esteban."

"You don't even know what I said!" Steve pretended to act shocked, or pissed or something, but he really didn't care.

"Tell me later," Eddie cut Steve off with a swift kiss, and maybe Steve would settle for later.

Maybe he'd have a lifetime to tell Eddie that all he said was "I really want to kiss you." He had his wish fulfilled anyway.

#guys i did so much research on the meanings of hispanic names for this bc i needed his names to have meaning. it was so important to me #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steddie blurb #steddie drabble #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #steve harringtons parents #steve harringtons mom #latino steve harrington #bc i said so #pls excuse any typos i am 👍🏻 stupid #theo if u see this i will sob

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