#Molly is distracted with two babies there's only so much she can do for them

[elisedonut]

thinking about Pre-canon and Pre-Hogwarts Percy, Fred and George dynamics

I know I've said it before but once again thinking about them following him around like little ducks

Like He goes outside they want to go outside

he's reading in the living room they want to play in the living room and inevitably end up somehow ruining his book

he's sent on an errand to a neighbor's house they try to sneak out to follow

Like this only lasts until Percy starts going to Hogwarts because even if they don't say it they felt abandoned by it

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Baby Steps Part 5

Larissa x pregnant!reader

Summary: The new addition has arrived

Warnings: Childbirth, vomiting

Read Part 4 here

“I don’t have much to distract you while we wait,” Larissa sighed as she dug through her purse. “Oh, I have a deck of cards!”

“Larissa,” you huffed, slipping the hospital gown over your head, “it’s okay. I’m sure I’ll be too distracted to play strip poker with you tonight.”

As you laid in the hospital bed, left hand over your aching belly and right arm over your eyes, Larissa came to sit beside you on the edge of the bed. Her fingers brushed through your hair and she hummed at your joke. “I know…I just–I hate seeing you in so much pain.”

You took a deep breath as a mild contraction washed over you. “It’s fine…It’s fine. My body was…built to endure this. We both…agreed…no epidural unless I absolutely need it.”

“Alright,” she mumbled. “Just don’t be afraid to ask for one, sweet pea. It won’t make you any less of a mother to ask for an epidural.”

“I know,” you muttered. “I know…I know…I know…”

Your mumbles of various affirmations were interrupted by two nurses and their assistants, introducing themselves to you and Larissa before opening your chart on the computer.

“I’m gonna need to hook you up to a monitor, hun. Is that okay?”

With a nod and a hum from you, one nurse, who said her name was Molly, strapped a band to your belly. The sound of your unborn baby’s heartbeat filled your ears and put your mind at ease. Larissa held your hand in hers, thumb stroking the clammy skin along your palm. 

“So,” the other nurse–who you learned was Alice–piped up from the computer, “do we know the sex yet?”

“No,” you mused, watching as the heart rate of your baby printed out beside you. “But at the end of this I’m either going to be ten dollars richer or fifteen dollars poorer.”

The nurses and their aides chuckled. “What are we hoping for?” one of them asked. 

“Well, in the end we just want a healthy kid,” you said. “But, I have a good feeling it’s gonna be a girl. Larissa thinks it’ll be a boy.”

As Alice took your vitals and the baby’s, she smiled. “In my ten years of being a labor and delivery nurse, I’ve found that most of the time, it’s the mother–or, I guess in this case, the one who’s pregnant–that’s right. On occasion, the other parent is right. But, most of the time it’s the one who’s carrying the child.”

“You hear that, Larissa?” you boast, grinning. “You’re gonna owe me ten bucks.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “We don’t know that yet.”

A few hours later at 9pm, you were standing in the dimly lit room, bent over the bed and resting on your hands as you took deep breaths through the pain. “Has my mom messaged you yet?”

Larissa, who was behind you, massaging your lower back, stepped away to her purse. You watched her scroll through notifications, tapping on one and putting the phone to her ear.

“Hey!” Larissa smiled brightly. “Oh, great! Yeah…she’s only three centimeters…yes, the doctor said the baby looks great. Alright. Okay. I’ll let her know. Alright. Bye.”

As your fingers gripped the bed sheets, you groaned. “Are they on their way?”

“Yeah,” Larissa said, coming to stand by your side again and accepting the tight grip your hand gave hers. “They’re just finding parking right now. They should be here soon.”

“Good…good–Jesus Christ!”

Your hand squeezed Larissa’s as she rubbed your back, talking softly into your hair. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “Put on some music, get the peanut ball?”

“No,” you breathe, rocking your hips back and forth. “No, just–right here is fine.”

Twenty minutes later, with the lights to the room completely off, one of your nurses knocked on the doorframe. Your eyes had been shut for some time while laying in bed, trying to get as much rest as possible as Larissa sat beside you answering emails on her phone one-handed (seeing as her other hand was preoccupied with yours).

Larissa looked up from her phone. “Yes?”

“I have two people downstairs for you,” she responded. “Would you like me to send them up?”

Larissa nudged you, receiving a grumble. “Your parents are here, love. Do you want them to come up?”

“Mhm…”

“Hi, Mom,” you mumbled, smiling sleepily as she kissed you on the forehead.

“Mia was gonna come with us,” she said quietly after handing the hospital bag to Larissa. “But when we called they said only two people at a time. Your dad’s had a few drinks so we’re not gonna stay long.”

“Nervous about being a grandfather, Dad?” you asked, chuckling before another contraction washed over you. 

“We’ll be back around six tomorrow,” your mom said. “Call us if you need anything or if something happens, okay?”

“Okay, Ma,” you whispered. “Go home and get some rest. Especially you, Dad.”

Your dad leaned down and hugged you, giving you a nice whiff of the whiskey he had been drinking. “You get some rest–both of you. You’re gonna need it.”

It just kept getting worse. After your parents left for the night, you tried to sleep, but it was impossible. As soon as you dozed off, a contraction ripped through you and at one in the morning, you found out you were officially in the active labor stage at six centimeters.

And you were miserable.

You could no longer talk through contractions and during a walk in the hallway outside your room, you had to pause every few minutes.

“Shit, Larissa, wait.” The feeling of fluid trickling down your legs made you stop in your tracks.

Her face contorted into worry and her hands immediately went to hold you. “What? Are you okay?”

“Yeah…Yeah,” you said, looking down at the small puddle beneath you. “I think my water just broke.”

You felt horrible for Larissa. You could tell by the look in her eyes that she was aching to go to sleep. But she didn’t once complain. As you laid in bed, a peanut ball in between your legs, you held Larissa’s hand, watching her closely as she tried to stay awake in the chair beside your bed. 

Her face was barren, completely rid of makeup, and her platinum hair was pulled back into a messy updo. Even as an absolute mess, she was the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen.

How did you get so lucky?

You saw her jolt awake after a few tiny snores slipped out, and you giggled. “Larissa, sweetheart,” you said. “You can sleep for a bit. I’ll wake you up if I need anything.”

“No,” she mumbled, placing a kiss on your hand. “No, I don’t wanna–”

“Larissa. You need to sleep,” you said sternly. “I promise, I’ll be okay.”

She pursed her lips, looking at you uncertainly, but still muttering an, “Okay…”

When Larissa woke up, she immediately regretted going to sleep after seeing how much pain you were in. After waking up to the sounds of your retching, she now sat in the bed with you, holding a bedpan under your chin and holding your hair back as you vomited into it. “It’s alright, darling. It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry!” you cried. “I’m sorry, Larissa! I’m sorry!”

She set the bedpan down and pulled you into her arms. Wiping your tears with the cuff of her sleeve, Larissa tried to soothe you. “Shhh…why are you sorry, sweetheart?”

“Because!” you sobbed. “Because, I’m a–a–complete mess! I didn’t wanna wake you up! You’ve done so much already! You shouldn’t have–to deal–to deal with this!”

“Oh, darling,” she cooed. “It’s okay…It’s my job as your wife to help you through moments like these. I want to be here for you.” She pulled away and kissed you lightly on your lips. “For better or worse, in sickness and in health, vomit breath or mint toothpaste, I will be here for you the entire time. Okay?”

You sniffled and wiped tears from your eyes, humming. “Okay,” you muttered. “Thank you.”

Larissa was wide awake after that. She stayed with you the entire time, holding you as you leaned into her, burying your face in her neck and groaning through a particularly strong contraction. 

The gray light of dawn was peeking through the curtains and the analog clock on the wall read 5:56 when the doctor came in to check you again. At four, you were still at seven centimeters and with the contractions becoming stronger and longer, they were almost certain you’d be in the transition phase by now.

You took a deep breath, trying your best to relax as the doctor checked your cervix. Larissa took her hair down and tied your hair up loosely with her elastic as beads of sweat started to form on your hairline.

“Okay,” the doctor smiled, taking off her gloves and disposing of them in a trash can by the sink. “You’ve dilated to eight centimeters, so if you’ve decided to get an epidural, I’d recommend you get it now before you’re fully dilated and can no longer get one.”

Your head was clouded by a thousand thoughts but you spoke up. “No,” you said, shaking your head. “No, I don’t want one.”

“Alright,” she nodded. “I’ll be back in an hour to check on you again, okay?”

When the door closed, Larissa sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want the epidural?”

“I’m sure,” you insisted. “I’ve gotten this far. I can go all the way. Where are my parents?”

“Your mum texted me–said there’s traffic,” Larissa said as she wiped off a line of sweat. “There was a big accident on the highway.”

By eight, you were at nine centimeters. You had lashed out at Larissa multiple times, completely falling to pieces after. You cried to her, apologizing profusely and begging her to not divorce you as she reassured you that it was okay. You even kicked your parents and sister out, saying, “If the last time you saw me naked was when I was a baby and you were changing a diaper, get out!”

“I feel like I need to push,” you muttered around nine.

“What?”

“I feel like I need to push,” you repeated to Larissa. 

 Larissa blanked, “Oh! Oh! Okay!” She ran out quickly and came back with a nurse who checked you and informed you that you were fully effaced.

And that’s when it all sunk in.

Your doctor and nurses all gathered in the room, prepping the area for the delivery. It was utter chaos. Larissa’s hand went to hold yours again, “Are you okay on your back, sweetheart? You don’t have–”

“Yeah,” you said. “I wanna stay on my back.”

“Okay.” She pressed a kiss to your temple. “I love you so much.”

“I can’t,” you sobbed. “I can’t do it! I can’t!”

“Darling–”

“No! I wanna go home! I can’t do this!”

Tears streamed down your face as your hand practically clawed at Larissa’s hand. You were ten minutes into pushing and you were absolutely exhausted. How had you been so excited for this, but now you were begging to stop and go home?

“How about we stop for a couple minutes,” the doctor suggested. “Take a break and we’ll start again, okay?”

Larissa’s hand let go of your bare leg and went to your forehead. “Darling,” she said. “Darling, look at me.” Your eyes opened and met hers as you steadied your breathing. “You are doing so well. It’s not much longer, alright?” Her hand smoothed back your hair and she placed a kiss on your head. “Just a bit more and we’ll get to meet them–girl or boy, it doesn’t matter to me. We’ll get to meet the tiny baby that we’ve loved since it was a tiny blob on a piece of paper. Just a bit more, alright? Just a bit more and we’ll be able to hold them in our arms and love them and protect them. Okay?”

“Okay,” you sniffled. “Okay. I’m ready. Okay.”

The doctor moved back in between your legs. “On the next contraction I want you to give me a big push,” she said. You nodded, clutching Larissa’s hand in yours and beginning to take deep breaths as you felt the contraction begin. Tucking your chin and pushing hard, the doctor gave you words encouragement as you continued. “Good! Good! I can see its head.” 

Another contraction, another push.

“Good! One more push! Keep going!”

A wave of relief washed over you and you leaned back, limp. The sound of loud cries filled the room and your heart swelled. On your chest was now a baby–your baby; a tiny human that you created from scratch. This was the center of your universe. This was your pride and the source of your joy. Tears slipped down your cheeks as you took the blanket from under them and cleaned them off. “Ten adorable fingers and toes,” you sniffled. “Oh, you are the most perfect thing ever.”

As Larissa leaned down to kiss you, she smiled. “I think I owe you ten dollars.”

Tag list: @gwenistheloml @barbarasstar @gwendolinechristierulez @furrysharkfart @yourgaeyisshowing

[wildflowerdoeeyed]

𝑀𝑜𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒪’𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒶

the character overlook part 2!!

this is going to be shorter but i still want my yap (spoilers it’s not im passionate about this), spoiler heavy for chapter 4-6

i’m not really proof reading any of this so sorry if anything’s wrong please tell me

🪞before i say anything i want to point out a bit of dialogue between sean and molly

m - i dont have much opinion on you

s - ah but you don’t like me, i can see it in your eyes

m- i don’t know what you’re talking about mr macguire

s - but you look down your pretty little stuck up nose at me

m - i guess i didn’t come to america to meet boys who crawled out of the local bog. when i could have paid them to sweep my chimneys at home

s - i knew it. you’re a snotty nosed little west briton

m - i am no such thing

s - ‘course you are, i see it now. you probably have a family with a big farmhouse and titles

💋 i want to bring this up for a few reasons

1. sean is one of the only characters in camp proud of his heritage, molly is quite superficial and she doesn’t talk much about it, kieran doesn’t know much about his heritage and doesn’t know how to pronounce colm even though kieran was with the o’driscolls

2. he calls her a “little west briton” which usually means an irish person who greatly admires England or Britain, thinking them superior to Ireland

3. i said in my last post that i assumed molly became well off from. a family business in agriculture

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋now i don’t have much to say about her outfits here because of the fact that they stay the same so i’ll talk more about her and dutch

💋from shady bell onwards molly really starts to loose it and there’s more and more arguments between the two of them at one point she screams that he ruined her life

💋molly starts getting really paranoid, she sits at one of the docks by herself and karen even tries to comfort her in her own drunken way even when molly approaches her and confronts karen about talking about her (i’m not entirely sure if she actually did) molly smacks karen, karen hits her back harder and molly storms off to behind the house

💋i feel molly starts to realise she is the fool that everyone calls her for falling for dutch, and there’s a held sentiment that dutch probably never loved anyone more than annabelle and molly was more of a distraction with a pretty face

💋walking around shady belle, molly is usually found sulking in the corners of the house on her knees with her head down, i’d also like to put out there that in their room one one side of the bed is disturbed

💋i think kieran’s death was a way to put into perspective how the gang was falling apart molly asking arthur how this is allowed to happen

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋molly is absent at the end of chapter 5 and i’m not entirely sure that people really questioned it at all (i was obviously trying and failing to find my wife)

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋now let’s get into the deep shit of the start of beaver hollow

💋molly is clearly drunk back in her casual outfit with her blue shirt, which i think personally is how she felt more comfortable in

💋she curses out dutch and says that she told milton about the saint denis robbery

💋i think she went through the realisation when she was away of dutch’s complex about himself, calling him “your majesty” or “master” when she makes fun of him

💋dutch talks a lot about loyalty and having faith and him and miss grimshaw carry the sentiment that she broke the rules

💋miss grimshaw shoots molly, and i think, though i love molly, she is my wife, it was the last nail on the coffin that when molly died she sees dutch, the only person she thought liked, even loved her, looking disappointed in her

💋she also didn’t get a proper burial and got burned

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

(only doing positive ones bc that’s what my baby deserves)

💋 karen’s the most aggressive after mollys death as she holds a grudge to miss grimshaw, calling her a filthy murderer and saying that she probably liked doing it, karen had seen (imo) that molly just wanted dutch’s attention and she was blinded by love

💋 i personally hold a grudge too but she seemed remorseful that she did it because she had to

💋 abigail feels guilty but they’re still under the pretence that she ratted on them

💋 charles says he feels bad even though he didn’t know her well

💋 strauss, though i think he probably did not gaf he actually includes molly in him saying the camps falling apart

💋 marybeth just feels guilty about her, saying that she doesn’t believe it, she probably said that in the way of she couldn’t believe that mollys dead but i’d like to think she also didn’t think that molly did it

💋 swanson says she’ll be in his prayers

💋though i’d like to add dutch’s reaction to yknow the supposed lover of him saying that he shoulda cut her off ages ago

🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

💋i feel like people forget that milton tells arthur they couldn’t get anything out of molly , if you know micah is the rat you have to know molly isn’t

💋 off topic but i want to say i also saw someone say mary (linton) was one of the rats, i feel like people forget that mary knew arthur was never going to change for her, her missions never affects the plot, she’s always going to send the infamous letter at the start or beaver hollow, she never changed the ending you can not help her and never talk to her again and there’s still the same ending it’s all micah

@lovearthur since you got tagged in the last one 🫶🏼

[verdemoun]

Wait if Sean can have Darragh back can Kieran have his parents or old gang back 🙏

yeah fun fact if you ask me about my blorbo i will accidentally fast track you in the inbox queue. two parter question! kieran and his parents here, kieran's gang here.

Kieran and his parents:

Kieran would have been mortified because he feels unrecognizable. His childhood memories are so pure and happy and he just doesn't know if he's capable of that anymore so when his mammy and pappy run over overjoyed to see him he has a slight internalized meltdown panic over the guilt of being 'different'.

Arthur being with him and also overwhelmed with the situation would have tried to explain 'I know you're real happy I can understand that but he um really needs his space' only to be silenced by the most intense glare to ever grace a little elderly irish woman's face because who the fuck are you and what are you doing with my darling boy.

Recognizing that she would very much eat him alive Arthur just backs off and surrenders while Kieran, who is significantly taller than both his parents, is crushed in hugs and motherly kisses and all the usual 'lord you're so tall now what a relief it is to know you're here and okay we've been so worried about you'.

Arthur still trying to awkwardly butt in explaining 'he doesn't talk much and he's been through a lot so he doesn't really like people touching him too much' and Mammy Duffy just rolls her eyes because ffs that is her baby of course the first time they heard the term autism they both immediately pictured their son (and she firmly believes it runs in her husband's side of the family, meanwhile he insists he likes fishing the average amount and just doesn't believe in wasting conversation on idiots)

Kieran is obviously slightly confused because he is pretty confident he remembers being a very 'normal' kid, which Mammy Duffy mvp insists of course he was a normal kid just a normal happy kid who never made eye contact, did not attempt to speak until he was 7 to the point they thought he was deaf mute, would constantly try to crawl underneath or between his parents because he liked being squished/crushed in hugs and would become so excited doing activities he enjoyed he would literally jump up and down or clench his hands so fast it sounded like clapping.

They love him unconditionally. He was their rainbow baby, their precious only child, he could have been the most evil bastard in the world and they would still love him. But it wasn't that they couldn't afford to send him to school so he could learn to read, which would be a first in the family - they just knew a 19th century school environment would kill him. People wouldn't understand his 'peculiarities' like refusing to eat apples that weren't uniformly red unless they were cut and peeled.

If the gang thought Sean and Molly were too Irish, the Duffys are the most obnoxiously Irish people they have ever met. Mammy Duffy is constantly trying to kidnap Sean and claim him as her own son. Still speak fluent colloquial irish gaelic and talk so fast not even Molly can keep up with them in their native language. Devout catholics, crosses everywhere at Mammy Duffy's insistence. Invites everyone over for Sunday dinner and still manages to cook too much despite the whole gang attending.

Darragh, who is much more level-headed and unnaturally calm than his outlawing past would suggest, and Mammy Duffy, who is a fierce, impulsive, wears the pants traditional irish woman, often joke about trading children (they both laugh only to glower at each other because they are both very protective of their boys and would never).

Kieran is simultaneously a mommy's boy and daddy's boy. He just loves his parents so much. Big old gathering hosted by Mammy Duffy and she's storming around trying to find her damned husband and son who both went down to the office/hobby room basement and got distracted making fishing lures and checking out the bait freezer.

Pappy Duffy also knows his son is gay and has since before timewarp (Mammy Duffy still doesn't know) and has been caught squinting at assorted VDLs in the early days just trying to figure out if any were his son's type because obviously Kieran wouldn't just introduce a man to his parents lest Mammy have a heart attack.

Upon meeting Javier and just watching their interactions he would have figured it out and had the no filter response of 'ah, a short mexican' to Kieran's absolute horror. Javier tried to assure Kieran that considering the number of slurs applicable in the situation, it was a pretty decent response for a 19th century Irishman. Javier immediately won Pappy Duffy over with his fishing knowledge and got his blessings. Kieran and Javier were both surprised with how emotional they both got over having Pappy Duffy's blessings.

Mammy Duffy might be blissfully unaware that is her son's significant other, but also adores Javier because he knew to dial up the charm. 90% of this charm was dropping the fact he is also Catholic, the remaining 10% was complimenting her cooking. He always gets an invitation to family dinner. In Mammy's mind it's just the typical dinner with her husband, her son and her son's close good friend/housemate. She will gladly slave away in the kitchen (love language: feeding people) while 'the men' talk at length about fishing.

Pappy Duffy is still trying to convince Kieran to actually introduce Javier to Mammy as his husband*. If anything the fact he's male is a vote in their favor because Lord knows she would never think any woman was good enough for her son. Pappy Duffy also assumes they are married because who cares if it's gay sex but his good Catholic son would never, ever have sex before marriage because that is a sin and they are too intimate (they stood beside one another in his presence) to have not had sex.

Kieran has made it clear to Javier they will be fleeing to Mexico before he ever has a conversation about sex with his parents.

[littlebunnywitch]

Same anon as before. I suppose that makes sense. But its more while Lorelai being a canon regressor makes sense I sorta feels like it goes against the point of the book where Lorelai needs to take responsibility.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy someone is making content where the Blyndeff sisters are getting along.

Could we perhaps get a scene where between Lorelai’s regressions she’s being a good big sister to Molly as thanks for handling Lorelai when she’s little?

Due to me relating to Lorelai's personal trauma (and as someone who kins her), one of the things i find hard about the book that both the book and a lot of the fans put alot of pressure one a 17 year old (who would have been 13ish when their mother died) to be the one to step up and be the "mature adult sibling" without taking into account that a large part of Lorelai's Isolation and "immaturity" comes from her trauma, and fear of being a danger to her loved ones (Especially Molly). Lorelai's own self imposed isolation in her dream bubbles is two part coping mechanism; One side its a way of getting her away from the reality where she has no control, she's friendless, her only father barley remembers she exists and only does because he can use her creativity as inspiration, she barley has any food to eat, and a little sister that doesn't want anything to do with her even though she does really care about Molly - and the other side In her bubbles others are safe from her accidentally using her powers in the real world. She still blames herself because they have no clue what started the fire and no one could find the source of the fire. She's internalized it being her fault so much that she's developed a fear of causing another incident that could possibly hurt others. She is terrified of hurting others.

I personally headcanon Lorelai as a permaregressior of 11-13 year old and a Trauma & Vent Regressor age range of Baby - 4 year old. So even when not in "littlespace" Lorelai has the max maturity level of a 13 year old because she's emotionally and mentally stunted at that age range. But that doesn't mean that Lorelai can't be a good sister so here you go -

So below is a short dabble of Lorelai being a good sister in her own way.

Lorelai leaned against the couch watching Giovanni helping Molly do her homework at the dining table. If there was anything that was the hardest about now living with the Potages, Giovanni was the older sibling Molly deserved. He was able to talk to her, help her, and just generally be a good older sibling to Molly in a way Lorelai never could.

Even before everything started falling apart, Lorelai had a hard time being the older sister her Mother and Dad wanted her to be. She wasn't a good role model, she was too loud, she was too easily distracted, bad at school, to focus on things that only mattered to her…. bossy and controlling. Despite her Mother's efforts to get her to be more like her and Molly.

Lorelai looked away from the two, resting her head on her hand, trying to look like she was paying attention to the show playing as she got lost in thought. She could remember being 5 when their parents brought Molly home from the hospital. She was a small baby and she cried all the time. Baby Molly was even more sensitive about sound and cried at the slightest loud sound. But, sometimes Molly would just cry and cry. The adults said she was just a colicky baby. Unlike Molly or their Mother, Lorelai never minded loud sounds as much as them. Their dad used to joke it was because Lorelai had all her senses on low while the other two had them on high. Lorelai would sit for hours watching her new baby sister. She can remember wanting to make Molly happy. Nothing her parents did could get the baby Molly to stop crying but one day she found out how to make her new baby sister smile. She learned the Teddy Bear Picnic song in preschool, and she spent the whole day learning how to sing that song. And when she performed it for Baby Molly, she hadn't even realized that the teddy bears on Molly's nursery walls started dancing to her song until her parents told her. She had been too distracted by her baby sister's giggles. That was how her parents (and her) learned that she was inscribed. 

It was easy (kinda) being Molly's older sister when the girl was younger. She was getting overwhelmed at the store; she'd summon a stuffed teddy bear to distract her with. When Molly started to meltdown - Lorelai would create a dream bubble to help Molly calm down in. But as Molly got older, and her needs got more complicated and the differences between them became more and more clear…. it got harder to be a good older sister.  

Soon it felt like they were polar opposites. Molly thrived at school and learning - Lorelai struggled to keep up with her peers and had a hard time focusing on things outside her own interests (something she and her mother fought a lot about). It got to the point where her mother would ask her why she couldn't be more like Molly. She tried, but she didn't do well with schedules and routines like Molly or their Mom did…

Molly never stopped being her favorite. Even as it felt like Molly was outgrowing her. Then their Mother died and Lorelai felt so… disconnected from everything. She felt dangerous… She felt like she was a danger to the one person she cared the most about. So she started to keep herself locked away in her bubbles to protect Molly from her. It was the least she could do for the little sister who managed to save her life… Of course, according to her therapist, isolating herself wasn't a good coping mechanism, but it was still hard not to just bubble herself away when she felt sad or lonely or angry…

Lorelai is pulled out of her thoughts as she hears her show ending. She looked over at the dining table - Molly was now by herself though. While Lorelai could tell that she was on edge, feeling a bit younger than normal but not fully dropped yet - she walked over to the 12-year-old and without a word picked her up out of the chair she was sitting in.

Molly meeps at her action and struggles a bit while Lorelai carries her younger sister to the couch, sitting down and wrapping her arms around Molly who was now on her lap like a teddy bear. Lorelai buries her face in her sister's hair. Mumbling a soft "love you".

This caused Molly to stop struggling to get free from her older sister. Molly sighs "I love you too, Lorie".

"I'm sorry I'm not a good big sibling like Gio is to you" Lorelai softly apologizes, her voice muffled slightly by Molly's hair.

Molly wraps her arm around Lorelai "You are a good sibling. Just in your own way."

Lorelai made a mumble grumble sound as her only response.

The two sat in silence with the two just hugging before Lorelai finally breaks the silence. "You're the most important person in my life~! That's why I get all sad that you would rather play wif Feenie or Trixie stead of me, but I'm working on being more understanding that you're growing up and that means our relationship is gonna need to be different. Buh even if and when you fully outgrow me… I will always care about you, Teddy Bear" Lorelai said softly.

Molly's eyes fill with tears, and she presses her face against Lorelai's chest, and as she cries in her older sister's lap, Lorelai just rubs her back. With her little sister in her arms, she wondered if Molly would want to have a teddy bear picnic with her tomorrow like when they were younger.

[imagination-is-key-in-my-world]

Awkward Encounters

Authors Note: At first, I was going to write this as the reader being in Tessa’s perspective but then I thought that it would be too much of a copyright. There may be some similarities to the story but I have written Tessa in as a separate party. Tessa is still with Noah in this. Also, I will be referencing parts from both the movie and the novels. In this particular fanfiction Tristan is a girl, like the movie.

Summary: You are a freshman at college and your life there started pretty normally. Your best friend is Tristan who is dating Steph who is roommates with Tessa. That was until you went to a party with Tristan and the girls. You had no idea that the mysterious British boy was going to intervene when you come face to face with the Bitch that is Molly.

Warning: Swearing

Pairing: Reader x Hardin Scott

Word Count: 4,423

“Come on Tristan, I told you.” I moan. “I can’t go to another party; I am still recovering from the last one.” I cling to a cold compress, trying my best to shield my eyes from the light that is seeping in through the open door.

Tristan threw a pack of Ibuprofen onto my lap that she snooped around in my bag for. “If it’s that bad, take one of these and get your butt out of that bed.” I groan at the impact from the small box just for the effect. “Don’t be a baby and get up.”

I roll over on the bed to face the wall. “Can’t you just go with Steph?”

“No!” She abruptly spat out. “I want to go with you. Steph is bringing Tessa and I don’t want to show up alone.”

“But you will be with her when you’re there. What’s the point in me getting out of this lovely cocoon that I have made, just to walk you to the party?”

Tristan had her head bent over, pulling her hair into a high ponytail on the top of her head. “You know that what you just said was the whole point.” She sighed. “Everyone is going to stare at me when I walk in there all on my lonesome.”

I eyed the short revealing dress that she was pulling onto her petite and envious body. “You know everyone will be staring at you no matter what if you wear that.” I laugh. “Those legs are going to be the headliner for that party.”

Tristan winked at me and continued adding more accessories to her ever-growing ensemble. “That my dear naïve British friend is the goal of this outfit.” She dropped to her knees faster than I could pry open the antibiotic wrapper. Gripping onto my hand she pulled me away from my mission to rid the world of the swirling furniture before my very eyes. “Y/N, if you do not go, I will literally never talk to you ever again.”

I raised my eyebrow at the sight before me. “Is that a promise.” I bravely say.

“Y/N! Please!”

“Fine alright. Give me five minutes.” I surrender, using every ounce of strength that I had left to lift myself from my comfy nest. “But you owe me, big time.” Tristan’s arms were around my neck faster than I could respond. Her soft lips that I am sure Steph adores, pressed against my forehead.

“I love you so much Miss Y/L/N!” She squealed.

I let out a stiff laugh as I saunter off to the bathroom to sort whatever state I currently appeared to be in.

***

“You know, when you said that this was going to be a cool night for us both? When did I factor into the equation?” I scoff, lifting the red solo cup to my lips. The bitter taste made my stomach curl, but what was worse was not drinking around all these over-the-top drunk people.

Tristan was straddling Steph on the sofa by the side of me. These two did not understand the true definition of PDA and why some people may find it uncomfortable. Including myself.

I inch further down the sofa that was unsurprisingly very sticky. If I wasn’t feeling queasy when I turned up, I certainly felt it now. I try to distract myself from the fact that I had to peel my legs from the leather material just to cross them. The sound was very unflattering.

“Why are you in my seat?” I roll my eyes the minute I recognised the irritating voice that filled me with angst and hatred from across the room. Molly Samuels. Her whole presence just irritates me, and it appears that I am not the only one with this response. I gaze over to my left to see Tessa shaking her head at the general distaste she had for the girl. I lift my cup up to Tessa who shyly mimics. ‘To stuck up bitches, ay?’ I say to myself, quietly so that she couldn’t hear.

Molly pushed Zed Evans and his girlfriend for the night out of her shitty throne causing his date to land hard on her arse. I am sure it wasn’t the first time that Molly has done this to declare her ‘power’ to the whole room. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” The blonde cried as Zed attempted to pick her up from the floor which was soaked in alcohol.

“Does this brat literally think she can talk to me right now?” Molly scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Turning to her so-called friends for approval of her comment and actions.

“What did you just call me?” The poor young girl shook off Zed’s protective arm and stepped right in front of Molly’s nose. Probably not the best move, but I have always found that Molly needed taking down a peg or two.

“You heard me, loud and clear” She popped her tongue on the letter ‘l’ in loud. “A little slutty brat who thinks for a second that Zed will call her back after he fucks her tonight.” Molly’s teeth were snarling almost like a wild animal.

“At least I’m not a bitchy whore who thinks that everyone here is her friend.” There were a couple ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’ almost as if we were at a panto and not a college party after Zed’s girl’s response.

The second Molly let the words register her hand was leaving that poor girl’s cheek, along with a bright red handprint in its place.

“What the fuck, Molly!” I heard the words clear as day, but I never in a million years imagined that they would come from my mouth. But there I was, standing right in front of Molly, shielding the young girl from another blast to the face.

I could hear people whispering behind my back. ‘What is she doing?’ ‘Is she stupid or something?’ ‘Does she not know what Molly is like?’ Despite being close friends with Tristan, I never would have expected her to step up to defend me, especially when Molly Samuels was involved. She stayed on Steph’s lap; eyes bugged open. Utterly frozen.

“Wow Y/N? Get involved in other people’s business much? Just because your life is too sad, you feel like you can insert yourself into other people’s.” I roll my eyes at her pathetic attempt to rattle me. “You’re just a sad little virgin that no body wants around. Tristan only invited you tonight for her own benefit. Just look around, you don’t fit in here.”

I stay silent. I may have only spoken up once tonight, but that was enough for me. Frat parties are my least favourite place to be. The only reason I came here tonight was for Tristan. I should have left the minute she started making out with the red-haired beauty.

“Cat got your tongue now, bitch.” Molly’s face was inches from mine and I choked on the strong aroma of alcohol on her breath. “Oh, wait I forgot, the girl doesn’t own a backbone.” There were a few stifled laughs here and there. Zed stayed silent, as did Tristan and Steph. None of them making the effort to stand up for me. “Let me guess. Tristan batted her big eyes at you and begged you to come tonight, didn’t she? Then ditched you the moment someone prettier came into the picture.”

I gulp back the bile that I knew had risen to the back of my throat. “Why don’t you go back to your dorm. Oh, better yet, get on a fucking plane and fly back to shitty England. We could only get lucky and hope the thing crashes with you inside it.”

“That’s enough Molly!” The voice behind me held a British twang similar to my own. A voice I had only heard about but never actually seen. The bad boy, Hardin Scott.

Hardin Scott was attractive. Since I got here, I knew he was the talk of the college. Everybody knew who he was and that he wasn’t good news. His white shirt displayed his various tattoos clearly through the thin and tight fabric. His black hair was pushed back to show his piercing eyes and anger set eyebrows. His eyes never left Molly who was stood behind me.

“Oh, Hardin you know I am only messing with the virgin.” She forces a small laugh. “It’s not like I can control the planes is it.” Her head tilts to the side as her gaze locks onto mine, only to intimidate. “I mean I wish I could.” She muttered so that only the people stood around her could hear.

“Do you ever know when to stop!” Hardin barks, not acknowledging me physically. “Do you ever think that you’re the one that people don’t want around?” He questions, moving slowly across the room. I hadn’t noticed but the volume of the once booming music had been lowered to a slight hum in the background.

Hardin was now stood right beside me glaring down at Molly who mimicked his stance. “Ding Ding. Come on guys let’s just drop it!” Nate calls over when he noticed their glares on each other were far from breaking.

Molly was the first to move. “You’re right Nate.” She coos. “Let’s play a game.” She scans the room of her so-called posy who all appeared to be done with her shit for the night. “It’s Friday night. We need to play a game. I will even let the little virgin here play along, too.”

I am very aware that all the eyes were now back on me.

This wasn’t something that I wanted to be a part of. It took me what felt like an eternity to move my feet across the room to where Tristan was sitting. “I am going to head back to the dorms.” I declare quietly to her, but I can tell that they are all listening.

“No please stay, it won’t be the same if you go.” Tristan reaches for my hand which I pull away.

I don’t know why I am letting Molly’s words sink in so much. Everybody who knows her knows that she is full of herself and couldn’t give a shit who she hurts.

“No, it’s late.” It was only nine. “And I have assignments that are due.” I lie, they are all finished. “I’ll see you back at the dorm.”

I start towards the door but I can hear Tristan calling after me to stay.

As I reach the front door to the frat house, I hear Molly’s voice loud and clear. “So, Hardin truth or dare?”

***

The walk back to the dorms was anything but peaceful. The cars were loud and honking at me as they passed. Classy.

I reach for my phone in my bag. I could do with tuning out the world for this half hour walk back in the dark. But my fingers only find a vibrant red lipstick that I couldn’t pull off in a million years.

I stop dead in my tracks. This was Steph’s bag; I grabbed the wrong one during my never-ending embarrassment.

I couldn’t go back, but I couldn’t go further either. Where was I supposed to go, Steph’s key wasn’t in here so it’s not like I could sleep in her room for the night. No cash, key or phone meant that I had no other choice. I had to suck it up and go back.

“Fuuuck!” I shout, not caring that I startled an elderly woman who was placing a rubbish bag in her bin just outside her front door.

“Not a very ladylike thing to say.” I hear a mocking chuckle behind me causing me to jump out of my skin.

When I turn around, I am greeted by the tall British bad boy covered in ink standing about 6 foot in front of me.

His head cocks to the side when I don’t answer him. “You don’t say much, do you?” My eyes scan over his attire, black ripped jeans, white top, and a jet-black leather jacket. “But you do stare a lot, don’t you?” That British chuckle makes it’s second appearance tonight.

“What do you want?” I blurt out, shaking my head at the fact that I was indeed caught staring at the boy.

He steps a little closer to me, closing the gap between us ever so slowly. I watch in amazement at how sexy he makes walking look. “You left this at the party.” I hadn’t realised that he had extended his hand to reveal a clutch bag. My clutch bag.

“Oh!” I speak. “Thanks.” I take the bag from him and prepare myself for the walk back.

“Don’t take any notice of Molly. She is a bitch.”

“Yep.” I chip in, turning to walk back towards the college dorm rooms.

I only get a few steps ahead when I feel a cold sensation wrap around my bare arm. Why the fuck didn’t I bring a coat? I gaze down at the hand that is pressed to my skin. “Where are you going?” He softly says. His tone and action were not at all forceful but something about him made me shiver with fear deep inside the pit of my stomach. I was warned about Hardin Scott. Tristan said that he wasn’t exactly good news around her group of friends. Acting with his fists before connecting his words, that’s what she said at least.

“H-Home.” I stutter, half from the interaction, half from how fucking cold it was. I straighten up. “I am going home.”

“Alone?” He jumps in straight away.

I don’t answer. I just look back at his hand around my arm.

“S-sorry.” He stutters, removing his hand from my arm. “It’s just it’s a long way back to the dorms and it is late.”

I shrug my shoulders at his declaration. “I know.” I simply say and start to walk again but I am blocked by the gorgeous boy standing in front of me. “Oh fuck, you’re not going to kill me, are you?”

“No of course not!” He blurts.

“Good! Now could you” I gesture to the fact that he is stood directly in my path. He catches on to my hint and steps aside.

“You’re not going to walk there alone, are you?” His voice sounding desperate.

I spin and mockingly look around for people, lifting my hand to shield my eyes as I continue my search. This provokes a choked sigh from Hardin. Once I am satisfied with my ‘search’ I say “yep” and continue to walk.

“But it is late.” He chimes in again walking backwards trying desperately not to break my gaze as I try desperately to avoid his. “And you’re alone.”

“Yes, we have established this.” I mock, glaring at the stoned pavement or sidewalk ahead of me.

Hardin reaches both hands out in front of himself creating a wall which stops me from taking another step. “What is your problem?”

I take a step back, alarmed at his outburst. “My problem. You’re the one who has continuously blocked my way for the past ten minutes.” I bark. I try to move around him but he doesn’t budge, copying my actions to stay ahead of me.

“I am trying to offer my services.” Hardin exclaimed but then scowled at his choice of words. I too have a hard time accepting the word ‘services.’ Just as I go to argue he opens his mouth. “Fuck that’s not what I meant to say.” His hands instantly dart to push his hair back out of his face. A nervous tick I assume. What did he have to be nervous about? He is the one stalking after college girls at half 9 at night.

“Look can we start over?” He offers shoving his hands into his jacket. My arms promptly raise to cover my bare arms where goosebumps have started to form. Why didn’t I bring a jacket? “Could I possibly walk you back to the dorms?” His eyes dropped to the ground to stare at a pebble that he toyed with his shoe. Was he anxious?

“Why?” I question fairly quickly.

“I just want to make sure that you get back safe!” His tone wasn’t very friendly. I cock my head to one side. “Sorry, that came out bad.” His tone softening. “I just didn’t like the way that Molly spoke to you earlier and I also hate the fact that you would be walking back in this sketchy neighbourhood alone.”

“Fine.”

***

We walk all the way back to the dorms in silence. Hardin looked uncomfortable the entire time as if he were being forced to be here. I sure as hell did not make him.

I pull the key from my bag and slot it into the lock on the door. Pushing the door slightly open I stand with my arms still draped across my shivering body in the doorway. “Well, thanks for walking me back and bringing me my bag.”

Hardin didn’t budge. His eyes were locked on my body, traveling from my legs to my face. His face turned a shade of white when his eyes caught up to mine. “Fuck!” He announced.

“What!” I jump at his sudden change in demeaner.

“Your lips.” He gestures to my trembling lips that haven’t stopped shaking since I stepped outside of the frat house. “They are fucking blue!” Panic surges over him as he rakes his hands through his hair. “Why didn’t you say you were cold?” He started passing back and fourth in front of me.

“There wasn’t much you could do.” I counter. “My own stupid fault for not bringing a coat.”

I walk inside the room and grab a jacket and throw it on over my shaking body. Hardin enters after me and grabs my hand carefully. “Fuck lot that will do.” He picks up a towel and drags me back down the hallway.

I try to pull my arm back but it is no use. “Where the hell are you taking me?” I say a little too loud. Silently cursing myself if I may have woken up any of the other students living down this dorm.

“The showers now come on.” He tugs a little harder as his feet guide me towards the shared bathroom just a few floors down from my own.

As we reach the bathroom, Hardin throws the towel over the railing and reaches in to turn on the water. I couldn’t help but watch his every move. “Get in!” He cries. Gesturing to the box that was filling with tempting hot steam.

I hesitate. “Y/N, get in the fucking shower.” I jump, not at his tone. But at the fact that he used my name. How did he even know it? Oh right, he was at the party when Molly was insulting me. “If you don’t start undressing now, I will have to start doing it for you.”

I raise an eyebrow but decline his offer, stepping into the box and pulling the curtain across to shield my naked body.

***

Hardin was right, I needed that shower. I hadn’t realised how cold I had gotten from that walk home. I stood in that shower for what felt like half the evening.

I shut off the water and begin to pull the curtain slightly across so that I could reach for the towel that Hardin had placed on the rail when Hardin’s hand slips through holding the towel between his fingers.

“Thanks.” I mutter, draping it around my soaking body.

I step out to find that Hardin’s hair has dropped and started to stick to his forehead in places from the steam. His eyes dart up and down my body, quietly.

I am the first one to break the silence as we stand there in the shared bathroom. “So, I should um, probably get back to my room.”

I watch as Hardin lets my words break him from his still stance. “Yeah, um, after you.” He holds his arm out and follows me out of the bathroom. Something has shifted in Hardin. Tonight, I have seen him; angry, intimidating, shy, solemness and lost for words. It was a lot to take in during a short period of time.

I open the dorm door and step inside. When I hear the door shut, I jump and almost drop the towel. “Shit, sorry I didn’t mean for the door to shut so loudly.” He curses under his breath.

“It’s okay.” I mutter. I cling to the towel as I stare back at Hardin who hasn’t moved or made any effort to leave.

“Y/N?” Hardin’s voice softer than ever tonight, bringing my eyes to meet his. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What do you mean?” My words coming out slowly. His head dropped to face the floor. Was he trying to count the flecks of glitter on the carpet from Tristan’s body butter or something?

“Why didn’t you say that you were cold?” I roll my eyes, this again. Crossing my arms over my stomach.

“Like I said, there wasn’t anything you could have-”

“I could have given you my jacket.” He interjects. Taking a step closer to me. His body was merely a foot away from mine.

“But then you would have been the one with the blue lips.” I counter. Tilting my head to the side in a modest challenging manner.

This stirred something within Hardin, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I know that he isn’t used to a woman not agreeing with every word that comes out of his mouth.

I suddenly shake my head as I feel a slight chill spread up my back. I am still in my towel and now I am very much aware of that. Quickly I turn away from his locked-on gaze.

“Can I have some privacy please.” I mumble, not able to turn around to face him. “I need to, uh, get changed.” I add.

Hardin lets out a small grunt but eventually I do hear the click of my dorm-room door close. I don’t know why but I feel a shed of disappointment at the fact that he listened and actually left.

It takes my hands what feels like hours to release the tight grip that I held on to the towel. Allowing it to fall onto the floor.

“You know what-” I hear the click of the door and his voice fill my ears. I jump from my spot in the middle of the room. He doesn’t finish the sentence, instead Hardin slams the door behind him. “Fuck!” His eyes firm but glued on my body.

I quickly try to grab the towel up off the floor, but it is no use. Hardin instantly placed his foot over the soggy material. “Don’t.” He lets that one word fall from his lips as he slowly continues to decrease the distance between us.

“Hardin!” I shout. “Give-” I can’t finish my argument as I find his finger is placed over the top of my lips.

Hardin doesn’t speak, he just shakes his head. His soft hand moves from my lips and trails off to my cheek, holding me in place. My eyes locked onto his own, frozen in place. I watch as his eyes bounce from my own to my lips, seeking permission. His other hand snaked its way around and laid itself on the small of my back, pulling my naked body closer to his.

I was completely thrown off by the audacity of my body responding to his touch, bringing me to him. Everything happened in slow motion from the second we were back in my room. I knew that Hardin was trouble, everybody did. But no one actually prepares you for a moment like this. Where you are stood in front of a gorgeous guy whose whole attention you own. Did I say he was gorgeous?

I shake my head breaking the eye contact trance I was in. “Har-”

“You’re so beautiful.” He interrupts, breaking right through the barrier I was desperately trying to build. Correction, he shattered the wall to pieces and I find myself pushing my lips aggressively against his, hungry for the contact.

It takes him a second to return the haste in my actions within his own. Moving his lips to mimic the speed that I had set for him. It took no time at all for that jacket that he kept holding over me for not taking since we got back to the room to be thrown onto the floor, revealing the crisp white T-shirt underneath.

His hand wandered lower to lay slightly above my bare arse. While my hands slithered up underneath his shirt. Desperate to feel the skin underneath and to trace the ink that it held. The hand that rested on my cheek now held tightly to the back of my neck making it impossible to break the kiss, not that I wanted to.

I could stay like this forever, kissing Hardin has awoken something inside me that I didn’t even know existed. This overwhelming hunger for his contact. I tug a little on the hair on the back of his head which in response summoned a deep growl from Hardin that I didn’t think I was prepared to hear. Any sense of doubt that we should stop kissing left my mind the second I heard that sound.

“Y/N? You would not believe what you missed after-” Tristan stood in the open doorway, her mouth held open just as wide.

Fuck. I jump back from Hardin and scramble for the towel, concealing my naked form from my roommate. I look over to Hardin who didn’t look at all affected by the events in the last ten seconds.

“I can tell your busy so I will just, yeah.” Tristan steps back and shuts the door behind her.

I run into the closet and quickly throw on a set of underwear and a long-oversized shirt that came down to lie just beneath my arse. “I think it’s about time I start locking that door.” I joke as I step through the closet door.

My eyes roam the room for the handsome boy I was just making out with only to be greeted with an empty room. My shoulders fall, “I guess that’s goodbye.” I mumble, trying my best to hold myself together. Locking the door before falling onto my bed.

Part 2?

[xxreader-writerxx]

Daddy's Girl

1.9k words.

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, dad!Fred Weasley, mom!Reader, children, anxiety, medecine, mentions of syringes,

Y/N= Your Name L/N= Your Last Name Y/H= Your House, Italics are thoughts.

I kiss my loving husband, Fred, as he walks out the door and he chuckles. “Why are you shoving me out darling?” He asks, laughing as he grabs his work bag. “No… I’m just trying to make sure you aren’t late.” I tell him, shoving toast in his mouth before he protests. “Ok.” He mumbles and kisses me one last time before slipping out the door. I sigh, rubbing my temple, shaking my head. I ran to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I grab the box I hid in the counter. “Please no please no...” I whisper, closing my eyes. I finally opened it to my surprise, a plus. I feel tears well up and lean against the wall sobbing. “No no no no….” I whisper, shaking my head. “Fred is just opening his shop! We are twenty! Well he’s twenty-five and I’m twenty-four but still! He’s going to leave god he’s leaving. I’m going to be all alone...” My thought’s get interpreted when I feel someone wrap their arms around me. “Darling?” He asks, holding me close as I sob into his chest. “Oh god.” Is all I can mumble as I repeat it in his chest shaking my head.

I feel him touch the hand I was holding the box in and I pull it away too scared to show him. “What’s wrong?” He whispers and I shake my head. A few seconds later he calmed me down enough so I could look at him and whimper out “Do you love me Freddie?” He looks at me worriedly nodding. “Yes- Yes Y/N I married you because I love you. What’s wrong? Did I do anything to make you question that? Darling I love you.” He tells me, kissing my forehead. “Fr-Freddie.” I mumble and he looks at me. I stand up with him sighing. I hand him the box and he looks at me then the box slowly opens it. “I-Is this what I think it is?” He asks, tearing up. “Please don’t be mad...” I whisper and he pulls me in kissing my forehead. I feel his tears drip down my forehead as he shakes lightly. “Does this mean- Does this mean I’m going to be a father?” He asks through tears. I nod shakily and he drops to his knees kissing my stomach smiling through his tears. He keeps whispering ‘I’m going to be a dad’ against my stomach. “So you aren’t going to leave?” I ask and he jumps up pulling me into a kiss. “Why would I leave? Darling, this is amazing!” He tells me, picking me up smiling. “Where are we going?” I ask laughing. “You need to lay down my lovely.” He tells me, grabbing his favorite blanket from the couch as he passes wrapping it around me.

***

I wake up and feel Fred whispering against my stomach and I look down smiling. “You have an amazing mummy and a daddy who will never stop loving you… I will play quidditch with you… After you turn a good age. I don’t want you flying into the house. I’m going to build you a treehouse and play with you and love you and I will give you cuddles…. You will have me wrapped around your finger and mummy will come home to us playing pranks and cuddling and cooking… I love you so much.” He whispers, kissing my stomach. He replaces his lips with his hand and smiles wildly when I move. “Don’t get excited. The mama moved, not the baby.” I tell him and he looks up smiling. “Hi mama.” He tells me and I smile. “Hi papa.” I tell him and he climbs up to me. “You are cooking our child in there.” He tells me and I laugh. “It’s not a biscuit for Godric’s sake Freddie.” I say sitting up. I kiss him quickly before he lays on my lap an ear against my stomach. “Guess what Freddie.” I tell him and he looks up waiting for me to answer. “My ultrasound the day after tomorrow, reveals the gender...” I sing the last part and he smiles. “Really?!” He asks and smiles at my stomach. “Now don’t get too excited, I know you’ve been whispering into my stomach ‘girl’.” I say ruffling his hair. “Please I don’t care as long as it's mine.” He tells me, smiling goofily.

The day he’s been acting like his teen self in a candy store, yet his adult-self is more rugged and toned so only I would notice. I rub my baby bump as I move along the aisles of his store and see one of the stands of Love Potions is a mess so I walk over laughing. I clean it up a little, smelling the potion which smells like my loving husband. I continue cleaning and get to one of the higher shelves on my tippy toes when I hear boxes getting dropped. “Who let you out of the house?!” I hear Fred ask and I chuckle. I drop down and he checks my face then stomach. “Fred I am fineeeee.” I tell him and he shakes his head. “Let's get you home.” He mumbles picking up my purse. “You need to rest. Tomorrow I will find out if I have a prince or a princess” He explains and I laugh nodding.

We got to our home from apparating, we luckily changed from flat to a family home with about an acre of land between us and the neighbors. I walk inside taking off my shoes only to be swooped up by Fred. “What are you doing silly?” I ask kissing his nose. “Wood floors. Splinters. Pain will distract you. Bam you on the floor.” He explains quickly. “Oh you lovable idiot.” I say kissing his nose.

The next day he has the day off and takes me to the ultrasound early. We finish up and the doctor hands me the file so we can reveal the gender in private. Now we are waiting in the living room as Fred paces. George rams inside and we laugh at the sight. “WHAT AM I THE UNCLE OF?!” He yells and we beckon him over. “Ready you two?” I ask and they nod, shoving each other away. “Georgie or Georgina.” George mumbles and I scoff. “Definitely not.” I say and open the file. I gasp and they claw at each other trying to get closer. “Freddie… You are… A father of a healthy baby girl.” I say and he gasps falling into George. “A girl?” He asks and I nod excitedly. He runs over and picks me up laughing.

***

I lay motionless from just giving birth pain going through my body when I look over at Fred who is holding our baby girl as if she is the most precious thing ever. “Hi there darling...” He whispers as she coos back. “What shall we name her?” He asks, smiling at me. “I was thinking of Delilah Georgina Weasley.” I whisper and he chuckles. “Georgina?” He asks, rocking the baby in his arms. “Do you not like it? Delilah is what we set. And George is why we got together… Feels correct.” I mumble. He looks at her smiling widely. “Hi Delilah...” He coos as she yawns sweetly. “Can mama say hello?” I ask and he nods, giving her to me slowly. I place a small kiss on her forehead as she quickly falls asleep against my chest. I feel Fred’s eyes never letting go of me and her. I look up and see he’s looking at Delilah in my arms. “If you keep staring I might get jealous.” I tell him and he chuckles. “Sorry, it's just my two girls.” He mumbles as I nod looking at my newly born child in my arms.

We enter our home to hear everyone cheer. Fred tightly holds our two day old child close to his chest. “Oh my...” Molly breathes as she comes over to us. “Hands.” Fred says and I laugh. He sprays some hand sanitizer. Everyone passes it around as I calm down Fred when he tries yelling at them.

***

I hear Fred yell out and I run in to see him holding Delilah’s dummy as he bounces her lightly. “Please please fall back asleep my little angel… I will- I will pay you. Do you want money? I have money just please stop crying. I have ice cream...” He begs and I laugh walking over to him. “She’s five months old darling, she won’t understand the meaning of bribery.” I say sleepily. He looks at her then me gasping out half of words. “Delilah- Well- She won’t go into her cot and her dummy keeps falling out and-” He rambles and I nod laughing. I take the dummy and Delilah, placing her inside her cot softly.

I move the gloves off her hands and they immediately move to her mouth. “Yeah she doesn’t use her dummy as often. She much rather her fingers.” I explain. I feel him wrap his arm around my waist and his other hand reaching out for her fingers to wrap around his one. “My girls…..” He mumbles into my ear smiling widely. I pick up the girl half asleep in the cot and bounce her lightly as I walk into the living room. He sits down in the corner of the couch and sprawls himself out. I lay in between his legs and he hums her favorite lullaby.

She quickly falls asleep and I kiss Fred softly. “She’s a mummy’s girl.” He tells me and I shake my head. “Definitely a daddy’s girl.” I tell him and he nuzzles his head into mine.

***

I’m playing with Delilah when I hear the fireplace. Delilah perks up from her toys and runs quickly. “DADDY!!!!” I hear her yell down the hall. I chuckle at the little five year old. “Hey bubby! How was my princess’ day?” He asks and I walk out to see her already on his hip. “Me and mummy played princesses!” She reports and I nod looking at the tutu she forced on me with that pouty lip. “Oh you and mummy are already princesses!” He tells me and I laugh nodding again.

“Does that make you mummy’s prince?” She asks and I scoop her away smiling. “Yes he is. Daddy saved me ya know? From a dragon.” I say and her eyes go wide. I sit down on the floor with Fred and lean against his shoulder smiling. “Uncle Charlie brought a bunch of dragons to our school, your future school munchkin. And while me and daddy were- Training for Quidditch… A dragon got loose. I didn’t notice but daddy did. He raced to my side and hit the dragon in the snout and went ‘BAD DRAGON’ and saved mommy!” I explain and Fred nods to Delilah's widened eyes.

A few hours later Fred and Delilah are eating sundaes. Delilah tries feeding him but his messy chin drips with ice cream. “Bubby. Medicine!” I say shaking the inhaler and he gets the syringe. “Breathe bubby.” I say as she places her lips against the container. We give her the medicine she needs and Fred helps her with her pills by taking his sleeping medication. I pick her up blowing a raspberry in her tummy as she giggles. “Let's get this bugger in bed.” Fred says as he takes his last sip of water before stealing Delilah.

We tuck her in and before going to our bedroom. We watch as our little girl sleeps and I turn to him smiling. “Freddie, you gave me such a perfect girl.” I tell him and he smiles shrugging. “I guess it's the genes.” He tells me, kissing me. “I forgot about that time I saved you.” He says and I kiss him chuckling. “You were my hero.” I say fawning. He laughs, shaking his head. “I love you y/n.” He tells me with one last kiss.

[helnjk]

Don’t Be A Stranger

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: breakups are tough, but they’re necessary. 

Warnings: angst. brief mentions of intoxication.

A/N: i’m so sorry this is how i cope okay. i might have cried writing this

flashbacks are in italics

–

It was silent. 

Having grown up being friends with and loving Fred Weasley, who was always so loud, so full of life and love, the silence unnerved her. It seemed as if every little thing, every small sound spooked her. Strangers’ conversations on the street that flowed in through the open windows, the ticking of the clock on the wall, the excited squeals of the children in the park nearby. 

She needed something to distract her, so she stood shakily and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. The monotony of the task soothed her in a way, gave her something else to think about. 

Still, in the silence, her thoughts rang through, loud and clear. 

She was tired of it. Of sitting across from each other at the table, having dinner in silence as if they were alone. Of sleeping next to each other, limbs stiff and not touching, bodies working hard to keep the space between them. Of being unable to hold a conversation like they used to, instead relying on stilted exchanges to get through the day. 

They were both too scared to admit to themselves and to each other that it wasn’t working anymore. Spending their days skirting around each other, pretending that everything was alright. 

It wasn’t. And, Y/N realized as she dunked her tea bag into the boiling water, it hadn’t been alright in a long time. 

With a soft sigh, her eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. She had about half an hour until the floo in the living room roared to life and spat out Fred. The deep breaths she took, trying to steady herself, weren’t much of a help to her as she realized what she needed to do. 

Y/N loved Fred Weasley, of course she loved him, how could she not? But sometimes love wasn’t enough to keep a relationship alive. 

This was one of those times. 

They had grown up together, learned to love together, lived their lives together. Y/N couldn’t think of any memory she had that didn’t involve Fred in some way. He was always there, steady and strong, an anchor that braved the vicious tides and came out of the storm intact. But as time passed by, his presence had started to feel more like a weight on her chest, and the more they grew apart, the heavier the pressure seemed to be. 

“Oh Freddie,” she mumbled under her breath, despite being all alone in the big flat, “What’s happened to us?” 

As she paced the living room, urging herself not to look at the time every five seconds, she remembered all the good that they shared together.

The warm nights spent by the fireplace at the Gryffindor common room. How she would curl up into Fred’s chest, content with staying there forever, wrapped in all things good, soft, and lovely. He would press kisses on the top of her head, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, dreaming of what their future would be like together. 

“Mm, that feels good,” she groaned, her head leaning back against the arm of the couch as Fred massaged at her feet absentmindedly. 

Her boyfriend, who was in a conversation with his twin and Lee Jordan, turned his head at her statement, “Careful now, L/N, don’t want you sleeping on me. You told me you were going to get some coursework done. 

“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?” 

He merely raised an eyebrow. 

“The Fred Weasley I know would never tell me to do my schoolwork over falling asleep.” 

The loud laugh that came out of him made Y/N’s heart flutter. In retaliation, he stopped massaging her and instead went to press his fingers into her side. The conversation about Wheezes left his mind completely as she struggled to leave his grip, her laugh echoing through the somewhat empty common room. 

George and Lee rolled their eyes at the couple, but said nothing. 

She remembered summers at the Burrow, the golden rays of the sun beating down on them as they soared through the air. The smell of freshly baked treats, waiting for them as they playfully teased each other on the way inside. 

“Oh Y/N dear, welcome back!” gushed Molly, holding her arms out for a hug. 

Y/N smiled wide, happily accepting the hug from the Weasley matriarch. She could easily spot the freshly baked apple pie, cooling on the window sill, her eyes scanning the familiar and welcoming space that was Fred’s home. 

“Alright mum, quit hogging my girlfriend,” Fred teased and rolled his eyes playfully. 

He was met with a light slap on the arm and a tut from his mother, “Please Fred, you spend months and months at school with this lovely girl. Give everyone else a chance with her!” 

“Yeah, Fred, who said I’m here to hang out with you? I’m definitely here to spend some time with Molly.” 

At that, Mrs. Weasley let out a laugh and hooked her arm with Y/N’s. The pair of them making a beeline towards the kitchen where they would spend hours chatting, having some tea, and ultimately preparing dinner. 

She remembered drunken nights full of laughter and giddiness. Of nearly falling over and feeling strong arms wrapping around her. The floating feeling that came with one too many drinks and stumbling through hallways, trying to keep quiet while getting to bed. 

A giggle rang through the otherwise silent hallway as Y/N tried to make it back up the many flights of stairs at the Burrow. 

“Woah there, sweetheart,” a voice sounded from somewhere beside her before she felt arms snake around her waist. The person’s grip was warm and strong, and Y/N’s cheeks began to ache with how big her grin was. 

“Freddie!” she whisper-yelled, turning in his arms to face him, “I’m trying to get back to Ginny’s room!”

“I can see that, love,” he chuckled. 

The younger ones of the Weasley family had had just a little too much firewhiskey that night, celebrating the fact that all of them were officially Hogwarts graduates. Well, most of them, as the twins hadn’t technically graduated. 

“You’re so pretty Freddie,” she gasped, cupping his face into her hands, “Have I ever told you that? You’re so, so pretty.” 

Fred had a hard time not waking up the whole household with his laughs, “I haven’t heard that before, no. But thank you.” 

She swayed slightly on her feet, succumbing to the way the liquor pulsed through her veins. 

“Alright, let’s get you to sleep. Your head’s going to be pounding in the morning, and I’ll put some hangover potion by your bed.”

“You take such good care of me baby,” she mumbled, pressing a soft kiss on his neck as they slightly stumbled their way to the room. 

Y/N couldn’t even bear to think about what she would do if–when–he moved on. Her throat closed up at the thought of having to hear that he was seeing someone else. Taking in a shuddering breath, she closed her eyes and tried to remind herself that it wasn’t working out, they weren’t working out, and that was okay. 

Too lost in her thoughts, she nearly jumped at the sound of Fred flooing in. Her eyes darted to the clock and it read a quarter past five, right on time. 

“Hey,” he said softly, brushing off some of the soot that came with his mode of transportation. 

“Hey Freddie,” she smiled sadly at him.

The use of his nickname gave him pause, and as their eyes met, a sadness washed over the two of them. This was it. 

“I think we need to have a talk,” she said, swallowing dryly. 

“Right.” He nodded. 

For the first time in what seemed like ages, Y/N and Fred sat side by side on the couch, legs brushing against each other, hands clutched tightly together. They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, clinging onto what they knew was going to be their last few moments together. 

Seven years together was coming to an end. 

By the time Y/N garnered enough courage to look Fred in the eyes, she had tears pooling in her own. She could see the softness in his eyes that was reserved only for when he looked at her, but she could also see the hitches in his breath as he tried to reign in his emotions. 

“Freddie,” she whispered, her palm going up to gently cup his face. The gesture caused him to choke out a sob, a lone tear falling from his wet eyes. He placed his hand on top of hers, shutting his eyes for a brief moment before meeting hers. “Freddie you know we haven’t been okay for a long time.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Yeah I know, sweetheart.” 

Her heart lurched at the pet name, not having heard it for what seemed like an eternity. 

“I’m sorry that it has to end like this,” he whispered, “That I didn’t work harder or do something to fix it.” 

“It’s no one’s fault, Fred, and you know it. It’s just… time.” 

Her words were confident and sure, despite the fact that she could feel her heart crumbling as she spoke them. 

“I love you.” 

His words were whispered, as if he was sharing a secret with her. In that moment, he seemed so small, and Y/N almost took back everything she had said and thought about that afternoon. With a slight shake of her head, she tried to gain some of her composure. 

“I love you too.” 

“Hey,” he smiled sadly at her, squeezing her hand for the last time before letting go, “Don’t be a stranger, alright?” 

–

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[theclockworkmonk]

Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 3

Read on AO3

Read on FF.net

Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Chapter 2 on Tumblr

Written for Hinny Ficfest 2021 (I know it's unacceptable I'm still working on this, but I got distracted by other prompts)

Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

******

Harry and Ginny landed on the path leading up through the Burrow's garden, and they were already feeling more at home than they even felt in their own flat. They approached the door to the kitchen smiling and holding hands, but before Ginny could reach the doorknob, the door flew open and the fast, blurry form of her mother tackled her into a crushing hug that knocked the wind out of Ginny.

"Oh my girl!" Molly Weasley sobbed into her daughter's shoulder. "My dear little girl!"

"Mum!" Ginny gasped weakly, swatting her mother's back as she started to feel light headed. "Mum! Air!"

Molly finally released her and Ginny took a gasping breath.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked quickly, his expression quickly becoming focused and alert.

"Yeah, is there another Dark Lord already? Bloody hell," said Ginny, rubbing her crushed ribs.

"Oh no, no, it's nothing," Molly sniffed, waving dismissively with one hand and wiping tears away from her eyes with the other. "I'm just so happy to see you both, it's been weeks."

"It's been exactly three weeks for Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and one week for me," Harry pointed out. He had never seen her react so fiercely, even when seeing her children for the first time after being away at school for a year."

"Oh you know me, just being silly," chuckled Molly. "Come on in, dinner is almost ready."

The three of them entered the kitchen, and Harry reflexively reached for his wand as his fledgling Auror senses kicked in. The atmosphere in the room was nearly identical to what he had felt in interrogation rooms. Every man in the room was looking either angry or nervous, with the exception of George, who was biting his knuckle and looking like he was trying not to laugh. He tried to meet Ron's eyes, but his best friend was too distracted by his mother's famous scones. Hermione greeted him with a grateful smile, and Harry got the impression that she had noticed it too. She was the only one who hadn't touched her firewhiskey, tapping the glass with her finger nervously.

After fidgeting for a few seconds, Percy shot up out of his seat, looking too antsy to keep still, and approached the newcomers with two glasses of firewhiskey in his hands. "Er...care for a drink?"

"...Sure," said Harry cautiously, "Thanks." He took the glass offered to him.

Ginny assumed the other glass was for her, and her hand moved an inch to take it, but before she could, Percy turned away and kept it for himself, taking the largest gulp that Ginny had ever seen him take.

Ginny huffed and pursed her lips. Apparently, after bloody everything, her brothers still saw her as just a kid, to the point where it didn't even occur to them that maybe she wanted a stiff drink too. She was just about to let them all know exactly what she thought of that, when the second frantic mother in as many minutes accosted her.

"Ginny!" cried Fleur loudly as she entered from the sitting room, holding Victoire in her arms, presumably after feeding the baby upstairs. Fleur made a beeline for Ginny and tackled her into a one-armed hug, then planted two hard kisses on either of her cheeks.

"Er….nice to see you too," said Ginny uncomfortably, her face turning red. Ginny and Fleur had gotten friendlier since the war ended, but this level of affection was certainly unheard of.

"You are beautiful, Ginevra," said Fleur with a beaming smile, "Radiant! Come, I 'ave somezing upstairs I need your 'elp with."

"Fleur…" said Bill, his voice laced with warning.

"I just need 'elp wiz ze packing," she said dismissively, handing her daughter to her husband. Before Ginny could express displeasure at being roped into work before she could say a word to her family, Fleur had taken her by the hand and begun leading her up the stairs. They stopped at Bill and Charlie's old bedroom, which by now was more of a storage space to shove things the family didn't have a space for. When Fleur opened the door, Ginny saw the old beds covered in several wardrobes worth of colorful, expensive-looking outfits. Ginny recognized them as Fleur's maternity clothes.

"I am finally getting to packing away all of zis," Fleur explained, pointing towards several open cardboard boxes. "Ze sorting should go faster with ze two of us."

"Okay," said Ginny uncertainly, "Why now? And do you want me specifically?"

"Oh, well," Fleur shrugged, "Eet just seemed the right time, zey 'ave been sitting up here for ages. And I am letting Bill spend time with his brozzers, and your maman….well, it is best if ze two of us avoid zis topic, or she will be lamenting zat I will not be putting all zis to use again soon enough."

"Ugh, I know," Ginny groaned. "She really has been smothering you, hasn't she?"

That was enough to make Ginny sympathize with her sister-in-law, and she set to work sorting, folding, and packing away the absurd mountain of clothes. Of course Fleur had to invest in a whole new wardrobe for just a few months, all from the same high-end French designers she got all her clothes from.

Ginny chuckled and shook her head.

"What is funny?" asked Fleur.

"It's just...maternity clothes are supposed to be frumpy, right? But even your maternity clothes are more glamorous and sexy than what I wear normally," Ginny laughed.

"Oh. Well…" Fleur said in a sing-song voice, "Eef you see anyzing zat you liiiike…."

"I don't think it would make much difference if they sat in my closet for several years instead of yours," laughed Ginny. "Hermione's the one who's already engaged, she's probably the one who will need these next."

There was a beat of silence, so Ginny looked up from the clothes she was folding towards Fleur, and was surprised to see the other woman looking at her with sadness and disappointment, chewing her painted lip with worry.

"Ginny…" Fleur said softly, gently squeezing Ginny's shoulder. "I like to zink zat we 'ave become closer zese last few years. I 'ope zat we can trust one anozzer. We can tell each ozzer zings and know zat eet will stay between us."

Ginny blinked at Fleur silently. "Er...thanks, Fleur, that...means a lot."

Fleur smiled again, but was still looking at Ginny expectantly, like she expected her to say something equally earnest, and the younger witch was growing more uncomfortable.

"Well, uh, anyway, I don't want to sound like my mum, but it is kind of surprising you're packing these away," Ginny said forcefully, trying to change the subject as she turned back to the clothes. "I never figured you and Bill would stop at one. I always pictured you having a whole proper Weasley litter. If nothing else, you need to have more just so that Vic isn't the only grandchild anymore, so she's not doted to death by my mum."

"Oh, zere is plenty of time for more children for us in years to come," said Fleur, waving her hand, "...and as for Victoire being ze only grandchild," she elbowed Ginny in the ribs playfully, "a leetle bird told me zat she will not 'ave zat title for long."

Ginny jerked so violently she nearly ripped the expensive blouse she was holding, spinning to face Fleur with her eyes wide and her mouth gaping. She saw that mischievous glint in Fleur's eye that she alway got when she had a piece of family gossip.

"WHAT!?" Ginny shrieked. "Who — how do you know—"

"Shhh," Fleur placed a finger against Ginny's lips. "Zere is no need to say anyzing." She gave the confused girl a cheeky wink and continued with the clothes as if she hadn't just dropped a world-shattering bomb on her poor sister-in-law. Ginny's heart was pounding and her mind was racing, which Fleur was no doubt aware of and was thoroughly enjoying having a piece of gossip that Ginny was desperate for.

But Ginny wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of begging for it. It couldn't be that hard to figure out who Fleur was talking about.

Percy hadn't had a single date since the war ended, as far as Ginny knew. He was still beating himself up for abandoning the family to think he deserved anything good in his life.

George had been spending a lot of time with Angelina lately, but they weren't even officially together yet. And if they had that kind of accident, Fleur wouldn't be the first in the family to know about it. George might have gone to Bill for advice, but Bill would take that seriously enough to not share it with anyone, even his wife.

Charlie couldn't have kids since the incident with the angry Ukrainian Ironbelly.

But that would only leave…

Ginny gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. It all made sense now. Ron suddenly talking about leaving the Aurors just to work in the joke shop. That completely clashed with the Ron she knew, who hated being put on the sidelines while others were in danger, and who hated being in the twins' shadow even more…

But it made perfect sense if he needed a less dangerous job with more stable hours. Something one would want if they were expecting a baby.

Fleur looked regretful about pushing Ginny's buttons, and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I did not mean to upset you, Ginny," she said softly, "forget I said anyzing."

Ginny idly nodded, but knew that she could never "forget" something like this.

Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, one of Ginny's best friends, was pregnant.

[enchantedblackrose]

Flesh Wounds & Somedays

Flesh Wounds & Somedays

Jay Halstead/Reader

¡!Warnings: Infant abduction/kidnapping. SIDS. Violence against women. Swearing. Fluffy ending.

Still unedited, hoping to have the nice version up soon. Sorry in advance! Happy New Year's Eve, everyone! Please be safe ❤

Upon exiting the very stereotypical "mom van" you're greeted with harsh Chicago air stinging your face and it instantly makes your eyes water. You hastily blink back the tears though it's fruitless. Instead you pull the knit hat you're wearing further down your head and pull your scarf tighter. You keep the door open, huddling near the inside of the vehicle. Anything to stay warm. You scan the parking lot for any sign of your suspect. Anxiety starts setting in. It doesn't matter how long you've been doing this. The moments leading up to a confrontation always send your stomach plummeting 

"Easy now," Jay, sporting the store employee smock, whispers as he rolls a grocery cart by, indicating to your foot mindlessly tapping against the cement. Immediately you stop. You give him a small smile. He winks in response. You pretend to dig around in your purse, anything to give the impression you're distracted when in reality all your senses are in overdrive. 

Voight's voice barks your last name through your strategically placed com. "Suspect approaching from the east. You know what to do. Everyone else, stand down for now! We don't wanna spook him."

You open the back passenger door before closing the driver's. Your fingers work quickly at unfastening the baby from the seat. You then drape a blanket over the baby for protection against the cruel elements.

It's subtle, but you cannot ignore the feeling you're being watched. The reality is you are. Your whole team is looking out for you. But this is something different entirely, something sinister. You suppress a shudder. Securing the blanket once more, you hoist the baby from the carseat and hold the infant against your chest. With a push of a button, the passenger door slides shut. You fiddle with the keys, making sure the van locks before tossing them in your purse. 

You coo at the little bundle snuggled against your chest. Your steps deliberately appear hurried.

And that's when he emerges from a dark blue conversion van parked one whole row over. You spot him out of the corner of your eye and he is unmistakably walking towards you. But you stick to the plan. Your pace slows just barely, not wanting your target to sense the change. You also don't want to actually reach the store entrance and potentially bring harm to the public even with Al and Ruzek inside.

He suddenly appears in front of you, eyes frantically dart around before resting on you. He's disheveled. clothes are wrinkled and slightly stained. His greasy, unwashed black hair is plastered to his head. He smiles which unnerves you. But you return it anyway. His grin disappears. "Give me that baby. And you won't get hurt...much" He removes his right hand from his coat pocket and you notice the blade he's gripping. That's new, you think to yourself. He's growing desperate. Still, you have to get him to attempt an attack or abduction.

"No!" You pull the baby impossibly closer to you. "Leave or I'm gonna yell for help." The threat is feeble on purpose but still seems to evoke rage inside the man.

He lunges at you. His body weight sends you stumbling but you remain on your feet. He wildly pulls at your arms and at the baby, trying to break your grasp. He swings his left arm and his fist perfectly catches your eye.

"Son of a bitch!" You cry. Your foot slams onto one of his and you use that moment to headbutt him square on his chin. He lets out a primal scream before sticking the blade into your upper thigh and you can't help but yelp in pain. He tugs the baby out of your arms. The blanket drops to the ground.

You watch the changing expressions dance across his ugly face: anger, elation at his success, confusion.

"What the hell?"

It's the opening you need. Your weapon is drawn on him. "That's right, you stupid son of a bitch. The baby's fake. Chicago PD! Get down, face down."

Still in his stupor, he obeys. You kick the blade away just as Antonio and Jay come running from opposite directions. Antonio searches and mirandizes him. You return your gun to its inside waistband holster.

As your adrenaline begins to slow, you feel exactly how much pain you're in. It's evident that your eye has started to swell and there's a throbbing sensation in your thigh. You stagger a bit, but a pair of strong arms steady you. 

He sighs and you look at Jay. "Don't start," you warn. 

"I should have been there. I ended up carrying groceries for this old lady..."  Guilt is written all of his handsome features.

"Did she tip you?" You joke, but he stares at you. "Stop. We knew this might happen. He had to attack me." The rest of the team appears and Jay drops his voice to a whisper.

"Yeah, attack like come at you, not actually harm you." He looks as if he's about to argue more when the sound of tires squealing interrupts.

You flash concern. "He wasn't alone." Your eyes meet those of your colleagues.

Voight breaks the silence. "Antonio, get that piece of garbage out of here.Halstead, get her to Med. The rest of you let's head back." You open your mouth to protest, but Hank won't even let you get a word in. "That leg's gonna need stitches. Now go." He stares at you until you move. Jay lends his support as you gently lean into him. It's not as needed as it is comforting. 

//

You were seen and stitched in no time; the wound to your thigh was mostly superficial. Your swollen eye, which was now bruising, was being iced. You would have left Med sooner if your weirdly overcautious boyfriend hadn't insisted that his own brother see you before checking out. It took Will saying it, but Jay finally seemed to accept you were, in fact, fine.

You want in that interview room more than you've wanted anything in a long time.

"Absolutely not," Voight answers when you ask. "This guy doesn't respect women. I don't need you going in there so he can admire his handiwork." He waves a hand indicating to your black eye you're still icing. Hank returns to the observation window to watch Antonio and Atwater interrogate a very non talkative perp.

You remain in the bullpen with Adam, Jay, Mouse and Alvin to stare at that damn board some more.

Alvin recaps; all of you hoping to discover something, anything at all, that could help solve the case. 

"Here's what we know. 2 or more suspects working to abduct infants. 1 in custody. Greg Jones. Couple of parking tickets, nothing too serious. Attempted three abductions, not including today's, in broad daylight, over the course of two weeks. Only one was he successful, if you call it that, but the infant was later abandoned at Firehouse 51."

You interrupt. "That baby left at 51, was a boy, right?"

Al double checks before answering,  "Yeah."

"The other two attempts were on baby girls," Jay adds, possibly sensing where your mind is going.

You nod. "And today, I had a lavender blanket to cover the doll. One would probably assume it was for a baby girl. Just hold on a sec. Mouse," you holler over to him, knowing he'll pull up what you want faster than anyone. "Check hospital records and obituaries, plesse! Any infant deaths in the last month? Can you look into Jones' social media, too? Girlfriends and such." You've hardly finished the request and Mouse has the information for you. "How many of the babies that died were girls?"

"Two."

"Do you have the mothers' names? Any link to Jones?"

Mouse 's eyes scan the screen in front of him. "Tiffany Young...girlfriend of Jones according to Facebook, lost her baby girl last month."

You nearly hop up from your seat. "Text us her last known." You nod to Jay, asking without words if he's ready. Before you can walk away, Mouse calls your name.

"She was reported missing three days ago." 

The whole team exchanges uneasy glances.

//

In a bizarre turn of events, Tiffany Young had reported herself missing. Jones and Young had been working together to abduct a baby girl with a plan to then flee the state. You and the team discovered that Young was conspiring against Jones going as far as plotting his murder to take place after a successful kidnapping. He would look responsible for her disappearance and his death would appear as a suicide. At least in theory.

It wasn't the best thought out plan, but in these situations they seldom were.

"I still don't understand," said Adam. You were all gathered around a large table at Molly's trying to relax after a long day. Well not all, Antonio made arrangements to see his kids. Al had also rushed off. "Why plan to off Jones?"

"She blames him for their daughter dying." You say taking a sip of your drink. "I read the report, even though it was SIDS, he was the only one there at the time." Everyone is quiet for a moment, presumably lost in their own thoughts.  It takes Herrmann coming around, asking who wants another round for the conversation to resume. 

Thanks to the refills and a few well timed jokes, the mood of the night has drastically shifted to a much happier one. An hour or so goes by when Jay lightly squeezes your knee under the table. You understand the gesture, surprised that he's waited this long to signal his want to leave. Jay hadn't really wanted to go out in the first place. "I'm gonna head out," you tell the group standing  only when you've finished the last of your drink. There's a chorus of goodbyes. As you walk away, you hear Jay excuse himself to use the bathroom. You know he'll leave for your place afterwards. Neither of you know exactly why you keep the fact you're dating from your friends. Maybe the sneaking around is thrilling. Maybe it's just nice having something of your own. Regardless, it's the worst kept secret of the precinct, though no one has any proof and they ultimately leave you alone about it.

You've only changed into a tee shirt when a knock beckons you. You let Jay in. The door has just closed and he's ordered you to take your pants off.

"We need to work on your foreplay," you quip, but Jay's not laughing.

"I'm serious. I need to see again that you're okay."

You sigh, but shimmy out of your jeans. His genuine concern for you was slightly overwhelming in the best way, never having experienced anything like it before. Carefully, you pull back the adhesive bandage exposing your fresh flesh wound, still very bright pink and aggravated. 

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs. 

"It's not your fault," you say, trying to reassure him.

"I hate that you were hurting and I couldn't do anything." He pulls you for a tight embrace while mindful of your thigh. He's completely still for a moment, breathing you in and finding peace in your arms.

Suddenly, he picks you up off your feet. It catches you off guard and you giggle. "What are you doing?"

He doesn't answer. Instead he takes you to the bathroom and sets you on the counter near the sink. He starts rummaging through your medicine cabinet, pulling out gauze, bandages, and rubbing alcohol. He grabs a clean washcloth from the towel rack.

You raise one eyebrow in question. "I thought I had Detective Halstead, not Doctor."

"Tonight you have both." You bit down on your lip to keep from laughing, but the misconstruction of his words hit him. "That came out wrong. That's not at all what I meant." Laughter escapes from you and Jay joins in, shaking his head and telling you to keep your mind out of the gutter.

"Mm, it's difficult when you're around." You give him a quick peck on the lips.

He turns the warm water on, letting it run for a minute. He tests it, making sure it's not too hot before soaking the wash cloth. He rings it out and looks you in the eyes. "I'm not sure this is going to feel all that great.'

You nod your understanding and Jay very gingerly begins to clean your wound. You talk to keep yourself distracted. "I can't stop thinking about the case. Clearly, they're competent for trial and I'm not justifying what they did, or tried to do. But I can't imagine losing a baby. Just the thought…" Your voice drops off. You wish you could leave work at work, and sometimes you can, but tonight when you're struggling to do so, you feel extra fortunate to have someone who truly understands.

Jay has almost finished cleaning your wound, allowing it time to breathe before covering it with a fresh bandage. "I know," he says. "I kept thinking about if that had been us and our baby, what would stop me from going crazy."

Your heart flutters a little faster, "Our baby?" It's the first time he's ever said anything like this.

He suddenly avoids eye contact with you. "Yeah? I mean someday...down the road if we are still...and that's something we...you want...maybe?" His cheeks are flushed and he glances at you, his green eyes full of hope.

"Jay Halstead," you offer him a big smile, "have you been thinking about our someday?" He nods, giving you a smile of his own. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him close to you. One of his hands rests on the countertop, the other lovingly brushes your cheek before you nuzzle into the spot just below his neck. You plant a kiss there. "Tell me more about your plans."

"Well they definitely don't include you getting stabbed again," he pulls away just enough to cover your thigh with the new bandage. A slight pout plays at your lips having not gotten the answer you wanted. Jay, seeing this, chuckles. "C'mon." He lifts you off the counter, carrying to the bedroom. 

Gently, he places you onto the bed. You watch as he kicks off his shoes and strips down to his boxers. He catches you admiring his physique and shoots you a wink. But you pretend to still pout and cross you arms. It causes Jay to shake his head, bemused by you. 

Pulling the covers back, he slides into bed and brings you to his side. He kisses the top of your head, fingers tracing a nonsensical pattern along your arm. "I see lots for us, love. So many ways things could play out, but it's always with you at my side."

"Yeah?" 

"Oh yeah, definitely," and with that Jay launches into different versions of the future he's envisioned. Some are improbable, others imaginative, many seem possible, but all include you, just as he said.

[peculiarmindset]

Can you do a prompt where Draco accidentally farts infront of Harry for the first time

***Sorry for the long wait- I really liked this prompt and wanted to write it out properly. And this will probably be the last prompt I write for anybody for while (unless I REALLY like it). I have something planned and hopefully it’ll be ready by this weekend *crosses fingers* Hope you enjoy anon! 🤗

The Bunbuster Fart - Sounds like a Beefy One, except much more sudden and much much more powerful. Generally smells eggy or beefy. Leaves your asshole smarting. You really feel these babies.

“How about an after dinner game of Quidditch?”

“You’re on!”

Draco and Hermione exchanged an exasperated but fond look as they watched the Weasleys running out the door, with Ron pulling a laughing Harry along with him.

If someone told Draco a few years ago that he’d be at one of the Weasley’s Sunday Dinners as a welcomed guest and actually find himself enjoying the company of redheads, he would have laughed himself silly before hexing that poor sod for good measure.

But here he was.

And he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but the Burrow at that moment.

“Well, let’s go after them, shall we?” Hermione sighed, as she stood up from her seat.

Draco nodded as he also made his way up, looking behind to see the Weasley matriarch putting away the dishes with some help from Fleur. “Would you like some help, Mrs. Weasley?”

Molly looked up, one of the empty gravy boats in hand, as she grinned and made a shooing gesture at them. “Thank you dear, but you can leave it to me and Fleur here.” Molly gave him a wink. “And it’s Molly to you, remember? Now you all have fun!”

Draco chuckled. “Alright. We’ll see you after the game, Molly.”

“There’ll be some dessert waiting for you all when you return!” She called out to them as the two left.

Draco followed Hermione as they headed to the field, seeing Ginny and Ron already in some sort of argument.

“You ALWAYS get Harry!” Ginny yelled at her brother, throwing her arms up in the air.

“Mens before hens, little sister!” Ron crowed, shielding Harry behind him as if afraid she would physically drag his best friend to her team.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” She argued. She opened her mouth to add something before catching a glimpse at Draco and Hermione in a conversation as they made their way towards them. She paused and a sly grin grew on her face.

“Fine- you can keep the used goods.” Ignoring Harry’s offended “Hey!”, Ginny quickly made her way to the approaching pair and grabbed both their hands, startling the two.

“I get both your better halves on my team then!” She called out.

Ron snorted. “Sure. Malfoy has never once won against Harry and Mione’s never played at all.”

Ginny just smirked at her brother, as she pulled them away and formed a huddle with her team.

“Ok, so today is kind of like the grand championship of all games. Me and Ron are at a dead tie and today is the day we find out who is superior.” Ginny explained to Draco and Hermione. George already knew the rivalry his two youngest siblings had when it came to their family matches.

“I don’t think me playing is a good idea.” Hermione bit her lip, looking her ‘team’ that consisted of Draco, George, her and captained by Ginny. The other team had Harry, Bill, George’s girlfriend, Angelina and was captained by Ron. The referees were Percy and Arthur.

Ginny gave a dark laugh. “No, today will be utterly brilliant.” They came together as Ginny told them of her plan.

“My little sister has gone absolutely bonkers…let do it.” George grinned widely, grabbing his broom.

Even Hermione was smiling.

Draco looked at his boyfriend’s ex with an shocked and impressed look. “And how are you not in Slytherin?”

Ginny lips curved upward. “And break the Weasley tradition? Would’ve given my brothers a heart attack.” She gave a laugh and winked at the wide-eyed look Draco gave her. “What? Harry’s not the only one who can talk a hat into doing what they want.”

(=^w^=)**************************

This had to be one of the most bizarre but downright most fun quidditch games Draco ever played in.

Harry and he were of course the seekers, with Ginny and Angelina as chasers, George and Bill as beaters, and Ron and Hermione as the keepers.

At first, the game went alright, with Ron’s team gaining a lead in the first half.

Which was of course, all according to Ginny’s plan- to give her brother a false sense of security.

And then the second half is where everything went mad.

Draco trailed after his boyfriend and whenever he got too close, he would give accidental brushes here and there, a lingering touch and smile that darkened with barely concealed want that made his beau pause and shiver, completely distracting him from searching for the snitch.

Ron wasn’t faring any better neither. Although he and his girlfriend were on other sides of the field as they protected their respective goals, Hermione would flash him flirty looks and overly praise him with compliments whenever he stopped a goal, distracting her boyfriend and making his face as red as his hair.

Hermione and Draco had asked if their method would have been considered cheating, but Ginny assured them that after the Weasley Halloween match of 91’ where it ended with Percy’s arm twisted like a pretzel and Fred somehow turned into a gnome and lost in their garden for 3 days, everything was fair game during the Weasley Quidditch Matches.

George had also done the same game plan to Angelina, but his girlfriend had eventually caught on what he was up to.

But unfortunately, Ginny had predicted for that to happen and helped George make offensive attacks instead towards Angelina and Bill (who Ginny was originally targeting).

Draco flew his broom higher, trying to get a good view of the whole field and also for one other personal reason.

As he hovered above and watched Ginny hitting the quaffle through the hoop, barely missing Ron’s head, he felt a burst hot air slowly hiss out of his bottom.

Pssssssstttttt….

Draco hoped his blush wasn’t showing as his indiscreetly tried to shift his broom, fanning the stench away.

In actuality, the blonde’s stomach started to act up a few minutes after their game began.

Draco had eaten a lot during dinner, almost the same amount as Ron, which was quite an impressive feat.

Not only was this the first time he has tasted the Weasley matriarch’s cooking (whom he quickly agreed made the best Sunday dinner he ever ate) but he had also wanted to make a good impression on his boyfriend’s ‘adopted’ family as well.

Luckily, Molly had pretty much taken to Draco almost immediately anyway since anyone who made Harry happy as he was now, was pretty much welcomed as part of her family. But seeing the blonde enjoy her food as much as he had was like the cherry on the top.

Draco bit his lip, as another fart let him, the embarrassing sound audible to his ears making him grimace.

He should have never had that second helping of pot roast, let alone a third helping. Or any extra helpings he had of whatever was on that table.

Bbbbrrrrttttt….

Draco huffed as he ignored his lower half and tried to focus back on the game.

To everyone’s surprise, Hermione actually made a decent keeper. When she wasn’t distracting Ron, she was able to guard her goalpost and prevent any quaffle from entering.

Who knew that underneath that bushy haired bookworm lied a decent keeper?

Pffffffttttt….

Draco bit his lip as more air expelled from his bumcheeks. Thankfully, they were out in the open and he was far away from the others so no one would know about the symphony of farts his arsehole was playing right now.

Draco suddenly shot up, a loud fart boomed out of him when he did so, when he finally spotted the snitch.

Ignoring his rumbling belly, he zoomed right towards the snitch just at the same time that Harry had also caught sight of it.

They flew side by side, a few feet apart, both exchanging grins before focusing their sole attention on capturing the snitch.

The blonde wasn’t even aware of all the farts that was shooting out of his bum at that moment (they were too quiet for Harry to hear anyway and the speed of which they flew blew away the smells his farts may have had and cause it to dissipate in the wind).

After a few more twists and turns, both boys finally reached out their hands as they made to caught the snitch.

The snitch entered his hand.

And it was over.

Ginny’s team won.

“I got it!” Draco yelled triumphantly, holding up the snitch proudly in his hand.

“HELL YESSSSSS!” Ginny’s scream echoed throughout the field, loud enough to scare the flock of passing birds away.

Draco could hear his boyfriend laughing but his thoughts were too focused on the fact that he finally won against Harry Potter.

He, Draco Malfoy, finally caught the snitch.

The boys flew their brooms towards the ground, to a patch of high grass that was a little away from everyone and hidden the pair a bit, but they were too tired from their earlier chase to fly anymore.

As soon as they landed, Harry grinned at Draco and gave the blonde a loud smack on the lips. “Congratulations, love.”

Draco’s eyes were sparkling as he held up the snitch to the other. “Finally beat you, Potter.”

Harry chuckled as he nodded his head. “Right you did. I’m proud of you, although I kinda feel bad for Ron- Ginny will never let him live this down.” He tilted his head to the right and they both watched Ginny and George, arms crossed as they danced in circles and crowed loudly to their victory.

The boyfriends snorted when they saw Hermione trying to console her defeated boyfriend- although she wasn’t doing a very good job as she herself was laughing too much.

Harry shook his head as he gave the other a soft smile and pulled his boyfriend to him for a big hug and another kiss.

Right then, Draco’s gut reminded him of his earlier gas problems and before he could do anything, Harry gave his middle a tight saueeze, making Draco let out a huge and very loud fart right then.

BRRRRTTTTTT!

They both froze at Draco’s fart.

Mortified, Draco tried to push the other away, unable to believe that he had just farted in front of his boyfriend.

He wanted to die.

And that fart just now wasn’t only one of the loudest and smelliest one yet, but it exited his arsehole with a burn- he had to swallow the whimper at the sting it left.

Not knowing what to do, Draco became confused when he suddenly heard a snort that was quickly followed by loud laughter as he was once again gathered up in his lover’s arms.

“I guess your bum wanted to congratulate you as well, love.” Harry giggled, holding the other close to him, wanting to make sure the blonde knew he didn’t mind at all so his boyfriend wouldn’t feel bad.

Draco blushed, but stopped trying to escape as he let himself be held. “Oh, shut up Harry. I ate too much earlier.” He grumbled, relieved that his boyfriend wasn’t grossed out by Draco breaking wind.

Harry guffawed. “I’ll say, never thought you could put away all that food- I was impressed. Made Molly very happy.” Harry paused before giving a loud sniff, making a face. “But maybe next time, you might want to skip the extra helping of pot roast, love. It really stinks right now.” The air around them had a foul stench which was strangely meaty.

“Shut up.” Draco’s face reddened even more. “Unfortunately, my flatulence doesn’t come off as roses, oh mighty savior.”

Harry snorted. “Flatulence. So posh, you prat. Just say fart like the rest of us.” He then grinned. “But who knew this lovely thing would let out such a manly ‘burp’.” He patted his boyfriends bum before giving it a teasing squeeze.

Although Draco’s face was still red, he was glad that his boyfriend wasn’t disgusted or turned off by his emission of gas.

As he was still riding off the high from his first quidditch win against his lover, when he felt his boyfriend give his buttocks another squeeze, the blonde mustered up all the courage he had and shoved his bum hard against the other’s hand and forced out a very noisy and quite wet sounding fart right onto his unsuspecting lover.

BRRRRRRAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP!

Draco burst out laughing as Harry gasped. “And that was my bum’s way of also saying I won and you lost, Potter.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort back but he ended up coughing as the powerful stench of rotten meat filled the air just then.

Eyes sparkling with mirth, Draco giggled as he quickly dodged his lover’s hands as the other made to grab him and he ran as fast as he could back to the others.

Draco couldn’t wait to come back again for next week’s Weasley Sunday Dinners and hopefully have another after-dinner game of Quidditch.

[detectiveinchicago]

Please, don’t go

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing: Blake Gallo x reader

Requested by: @tomanyfandoms04​

Warnings: Medical Stuff might not be accurate.

Word Count: 1.806

GIF IS NOT MINE. 

Being in a relationship with a firefighter was being willed to have your heart on edge all the time. Every time he went out on a shift Blake knew that you had gotten used to letting it be because you were sure that if you thought about it every day you were going to freak out. You had been dating for over 10 years; you had met in high school after Blake had lost his family in a fire when he was twelve. Blake spent most of his time at the fire station or training. He knew in his heart that he was destined to be a firefighter and you supported him; you were always there for him. When you started studying finance, he was also there for you during the long study nights. You were always happy for each other’s achievements; it was their nature.

Less than a year ago I had entered a new station “It’s my dream job baby” he had told you. The problem is that he was too intrepid and impulsive for his own good, but despite your reservations, he had been doing very well. You remember how proud you were of him when he ran that race to raise awareness about lung cancer in the fire department.

You had talked about getting married, of course, but it never seemed like the right time. Blake, however, was trying to find that moment for many months. He was sure he loved you and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, so why wait? Even though Blake had been looking for the right time for months, it never seemed to be and the ring was still in his pants pocket, either you were both exhausted when you came home from work or you were at Molly’s or you had something to do. It always seemed like there was something more important to do.

“Have you seen this?” A coworker had asked you while pointing to the television where there were images of a fire in a mattress factory that firefighters were trying to put out. You hoped that Blake was not there, but unfortunately you knew that was not the case. The fire was so big that they had called all the units, so most likely he was there. At least she hoped he was at least being careful.

It was after seven when you arrived to the apartment you two shared. You left the keys on the front table next to your coat and your wallet when your cell phone rang.

“And it is?” you said, rubbing your eyes. You needed a shower.

“(Y / N)? This is Chief Boden I work with Blake Gallo” a raspy voice spoke to him on the other end of the phone. Was Blake hurt? It wasn’t the first time he’d hurt himself at work, that’s for sure.

“I know who you are” You answered. You had to ask “Is Blake okay?”

“We don’t know” Chief Boden replied across the line with a sigh “We are in Chicago Med waiting for news”

“I’ll be there” you answered before cutting off the communication and taking your things again.

You could feel your heart leaking out of your chest. You weren't sure you wanted to experience that pain again. Never had Blake’s superiors answered “We don’t know” whenever they called her it was “He’ll recover in two weeks” or “He needs to rest and stay home.” Then you would just take leave from your work to accompany him, Did you know how anxious he got when he had to stay home?

When I arrived at Chicago Med, the uncertainty did not improve. Nobody had news about Blake’s condition. And everything got worse when a doctor came out to talk to Otis’s girlfriend, one of Blake’s companions, and she cried. You needed no more negative thoughts, so while everyone was mourning the death of one of them you quietly slipped away. You sat by the hospital door and started looking around. The place seemed grim.

“Is it going to be okay, you know?” You turned to look and saw Captain Casey, you had seen him before in Molly.

“Why do you say that? You just lost one of yours,” you answered acidly, not wanting to be so daring “I’m sorry”

“Don’t apologize, I know it’s not the best time,” he replied leaning a hand on your shoulder “You just have to have faith”

“Sometimes faith is not enough” You responded by getting up and shaking your clothes “Blake and I have been together for over 10 years, I know what kind of relationship I have but I can’t help but get nervous” Captain Casey looked at you with a smile of sympathy as you reentered inside. Otis’s girlfriend kept crying and you couldn’t stop the bad thoughts from coming back.

“Blake Gallo’s family?” asked one doctor entering the waiting room

“That would be us” you replied to the doctor and Captain Casey smiled at you. You knew that this was how fire stations worked, they had each other backs inside and outside work.

“Blake lost a significant amount of blood, he had the explosion from the front and we are monitoring his organs and vital signs, he has several burns on his torso and back, his lungs have also been severely damaged so we are monitoring to see how he evolves. I’m sorry, I wish I could give you better news” The doctor explained to you.

“At least he’s not dead” you thought, but then you realized that that was not a great consolation

“Do you want to see him? You can take turns one at a time” He asked and you nodded. The doctor directed you to the ICU and showed Gallo’s door before heading to the nurse’s unit.

He looked so calm, so peaceful. It just looked like he had gone to sleep, but you knew it was the effect of the drugs. He had bandages around his chest and he was intubated, but he was still your Blake. The one who always made you smile, the one who was always by your side when you were sad, the one who massaged you when you were tired and the one who cradled you until you fell asleep at night. Even though his body looked like it had been in a war and his face looked unpolluted, you assumed it was because she had been wearing his helmet and protective mask. You sat on the empty chair and took his hand; you weren’t sure she could feel it, but still; you stayed there; you took advantage of all the time you had before letting your friends pass.

“Please Blake, don’t leave me, we still didn’t have enough time together, I need to have more time to love you and to feel your love, I need you, please don’t leave me now”

Three days after Blake was in the hospital, one nurse gave you the few belongings he had in his uniform before the explosion. Of course, he had his cell phone and his watch, but he also had a small box. So as she sat in the chair next to Blake’s bed you opened the bag, he had some missed calls from you on his cell phone and when you opened the box; you found yourself with an engagement ring. You took him in his hands and you cried; you cried because you expected him to wake up so you could get married. You wondered how long he had been keeping that ring.

“Blake, open your eyes, I want to marry you. Please don’t leave me now, I want us to get married and invite all our friends, I want to have that special day with you, I want you to tell me again how much you love me, for please don’t go “

You spent every day in the hospital and when you weren’t there; you were bathing and then sitting again next to Blake’s bed or in the waiting room. That was your routine for the last week. Sometimes you brought your laptop to do some work tasks to distract yourself. His colleagues from the station had stopped by to see him several times.

“Do you ever stop working?” God, you thought you’d never hear that voice again. His voice was scratchy, but it was his voice. You raised your eyes from the computer and started crying. You hadn’t cried in all those days but at that moment it felt perfect to have a little sentimentality “Don’t cry” Blake told you as you approached him.

“I’m crying because you’re alive” You replied “And because I love you so much” you added while he grabbed your head.

“How long was I asleep?” I ask while you wipe your tears.

“About a week” you informed him while you brought him a glass of water

“That’s been a long time” he replied, drinking some water, “I thought I was going to die, (Y / N)”

“You need not explain to me” you said, taking his hand between yours

“I thought I was going to die without seeing your beautiful face again,” he said caressing your cheek “I thought I was going to die without telling you how much I love you, how much I need you and how much I want to make you my wife” you approached him and gave him a little kiss on the lips

“You wanted to ask me to marry you and you had no better idea than to go around carrying this ring in your pocket?” you asked with a small smile on his confused face “The nurse gave me your things a few days ago, I don’t know how you didn’t lose that ring” you said

“I’ve been trying to ask you to marry me for months” Blake replied scratching his head embarrassed “I bought the ring at Christmas”

“Christmas? Blake, it’s May” you said raising your eyebrows

“It never seemed like the right time” he defended “We were always busy”

“Blake, I would have told you yes even if you had proposed to me in the shower” you informed him “I want to marry you, I want you to have a great wedding with all our friends, I want everything with you, I love you Blake”

“I want everything with you (Y / N) since we were teenagers I knew that the only thing I wanted was to see your face every morning and be by your side”

[footballfanfictions]

Think that I like her - Phase Six

Think that I like her - Phase Six

Christian

It had been three weeks since Christian had told Kara that he couldn’t see her anymore and he hadn’t seen her since. 

He had played every game since, assisting 6 goals and scoring 3 of his own. His new manager was so impressed with him that he had taken him to once side and spoken to him about how he saw him in his plans for the future and could see him being a very important leader in the team. Christian had been very flattered but it only made the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that much worse. He had broken things off with Kara because he was sure that he was going to be sold. He had always put his career before any of his relationships, and was always too scared to get close to anyone in case he had to move. He didn’t want a relationship getting in the way of important career decisions. His parents had told him that he would have plenty of time to date when he was older. That didn’t help the dull ache that he felt every time he thought about her.

Mason and his friendship with Kara complicated things further. He wasn’t particularly fond of the way that he had treated his friend. Christian didn’t blame him. If someone had done what he had to someone close to him, like his sister, he would be furious. He’d do worse to the guy than just avoid him.

He missed their friendship though and sitting at Kai and Timo’s table at lunch while the English players bickered and bantered not the next table over made him feel left out.

“It was such a good goal…” Kai said to him in his heavily accented English, his mouth full of pasta salad.

“What was?” Christian asked, his eyes still trailing across to the table where Mason was laughing at something Ben had said.

“Never mind” Kai laughed.

Timo looked up then, he had been bent over a newspaper while eating. He liked to read them to improve his English and he would often look up and exclaim something about a story and would explain how ‘that would never happen in Germany’.

“You are still thinking about that girl. The pretty one from the party” Timo mused quietly.

He had been looking down at the paper so Christian didn’t know how he had been able to tell.

Christian’s cheeks flushed and he picked up his water bottle, taking a long swig from it. 

“Ah yes he is” Kai teased.

“She was quite beautiful” Timo continued.

“Have you not seen her since?” Kai asked.

Christian sighed and wondered if he should tell them what he had done. Would then understand or would they berate him for his poor decision making? He thought it would probably be the latter, but maybe that was what he needed to hear.

“I saw her a few times after-“ He was cut off by Kai wolf whistling.

He looked over at the other table, but none of them had looked up.

“We were getting on really well, but then my form took a huge dip and so did my confidence and I just… didn’t want to lead her on if I wasn’t going to be here much longer.” He sighed, running a hand through the front of his hair. It was getting a little bit longer now, to the point that it was visibly curly. He needed to get it cut. 

“You tell this girl this?” Timo asked.

Christian nodded, continuing “I broke things off with her because I was so sure that our new manager didn’t want me here. I couldn’t let a relationship hold me back from moving somewhere else if I had to.”

“But you are happy here no? and you have scored 3 goals” Kai looked confused as he asked the question.

“Yeah I have now, and coach has told me that he wants me here for the foreseeable future. I feel like a bit of a fool. I’ve just always focused on my career and haven’t really dated anyone” he explained.

Kai put a reassuring arm around his shoulder. “When I move here, my girlfriend does not want to be coming with me. She studies in Germany. It is hard but we visit.” Kai smiled as he spoke. “If it is meant to be, you can make it work too.”

“But I have messed everything up now. I don’t think she will even speak to me now. What can I do?” he asked them both, looking between Kai and Timo.

It was Timo who offered the solution.

“Grand gesture”.

*****************************

Kara 

Kara balanced her bag carefully on her shoulder as she descended the steps outside of the court room. The court hearing had just seen a conclusion to one of her trickiest cases. They had taken the infant into care a couple of days after their birth. Kara herself had attended the hospital a few hours after they had been notified of the birth and had loaded the tiny newborn into her car. The mother hadn’t protested, just stared at the wall. She was pale and gaunt and exhausted from child birth and we were removing her fourth child.  She had found herself in the cycle of domestic abuse and substance misuse and she knew the system well.

Kara didn’t want to believe that anyone wasn’t capable of turning their life around. She hadn’t become a Social Worker to ruin lives and take children away, she wanted to help families. She had argued with her manager over and over to let her work with the young mother. Her manager was against this, convinced that she would never put her children above herself.

Kara started by asking the housing department to house the woman in another borough, away from the network of drug dealers and gang members that plagued her life. They had given her a moderately sized two bedroom flat. Kara had to argue hard that the woman needed more than one bedroom, because she wanted to return the baby to the care of it’s mother.

She enrolled the mother onto detox programs, parenting courses and encouraged her to access therapy, and sought court injections against the men that had abused her.

One year and six clear drug and alcohol screenings later, the court had agreed to allow the baby to return home. This had been Kara’s greatest triumph, seeing the two of them reunited outside the court room warmed her heart and as she got into her car she allowed herself to cry. Empathy can be exhausting and emotionally draining and some times she just had to let those emotions out.

She had thrown herself into her job, and into that case so much that the gorgeous young American that had previously taken up all of her thoughts had barely crossed her mind. But she was thinking about him now. How nice it would have been to have had someone to come home to and forget all of the stresses of her day with. She could barely do that with Mollie these days. Mollie was barely home, spending most of her time with Mason in the honeymoon phase. Not that Kara minded. She was very happy that her friends were happy with each other.

The drive home was quick and Kara was soon walking up the steps to their shared flat and fumbling in her bag for her phone.

She listened out for any sounds coming from the flat before she turned her keys in the lock, not wanting to walk in on Mollie and Mason.

She was relieved to hear silence, wanting nothing more than to have a bath, pour herself a glass of wine, change into her comfiest pyjamas and order a Chinese. 

She walked into the living room area, not noticing that there was something in the kitchen immediately, until she turned around to pour that glass of wine and found that every available space on the counter tops and the island were filled with large arrangements of roses, in every colour.

Mason had gone overboard on the romance this time she laughed to herself.

The card poking out of the top of the white rose arrangement caught her eye and she couldn’t resist sneaking a look at what Mason had written. 

Her eyes scanned the card.

I will never be able to make up for what I did, but I’m hoping to try. Can we talk? Christian x

Ps. Hope you like the flowers

She nearly gathered up all of the flowers, thinking that she would empty them all into the bin, but something stopped her. A tugging feeling in her stomach. She had distracted herself from Christian so well, but that distraction was now gone, and her thoughts were just filled with him. The way that he would smile when he kissed her, how he would wrinkle his nose and laugh when she said some sort of British slang that he didn’t understand, the way his hands were so gentle when he ran them down her arms and held her hands. She missed the way he smelled when she buried her head against his chest.

She was crying again now.

She went to the fridge for the wine and got a glass out of the kitchen cupboard, pouring herself a large glass she took a deep breath and held her phone tight in her fist.

She wanted to text him, but she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t just go running back to him just like that, could she? As much as she wanted to, he had broken things off with her and she would seem like a right doormat if she went running back to him. 

She really really needed some advice.

She quickly took a picture of the flowers and sent it to Mollie with a quick message. 

K: Did you and Mase know about this? x

M: Mase didn’t but I did. He turned up earlier and he seemed really sorry, then he said he was going to send the flowers and I brought them in x

K: What do you think I should do? x

M: What does your gut tell you? x

K: To tell him to come over x

M: That’s what you should do then x

K: But aren’t I being a massive doormat if I do that? Just forget what he did and move on so easily? x

M: You could make him work for it in other ways *devil emoji* if you know what I mean. You’ll get no judgement from me x

Kara rolled her eyes at Mollie’s last message, but it did make her smile. She could see Christian tonight, and make him work a little to get her back at the same time.

Grinning, she opened up their last text conversation.

K: Hey, I got your flowers. Thanks, they’re beautiful x

C: Not as beautiful as you x

C: Shit that was cheesy sorry x

K: It’s ok, I liked it x

C: I miss you x

K: I miss you too Christian x 

C: Can I see you? I’d really like to talk to you in person x

K: I just got back from work, but you’re welcome to come over if you like. I was just planning on having a quiet night in x

C: Ok, I’ll see you soon x

Kara felt giddy as she tottered into the bathroom. She turned the taps on and poured her favourite bath soak in, going a little overboard with the bubbles. 

She tried to calm down whilst laying back in the hot water but she just couldn’t. Her mind was solely on Christian. She had looked up the latest Chelsea results while she soaked, so that she would have something to talk to him about at least if things got awkward between them. There was a picture of him from the last match where he had scored a goal. He had a beard now.

Kara bit her lip and tried to resist her thoughts from wondering what his facial hair would feel like against her thighs. 

She got out of the bath then. She felt flushed and hot and didn’t want to start sweating. Wrapping a towel around herself she quickly left the bathroom and entered her bedroom. What the hell should she wear to hang out with a guy that had broken up with her? She couldn’t really go for a dress, that would be pretty impractical if they were just going to spend the evening on her sofa. 

She downed the last drop of her wine and set the glass down on her dressing table as she surveyed the clothes in her wardrobe. She felt like she had nothing to wear, but of course, that wasn’t the case. She settled on pair of denim shorts and a top that was low cut enough to show her neck and collar bones but modest enough to cover her boobs. She had always been taught that you could only have your legs or your boobs on show, never both. She laughed silently to herself at that rule. It was one that Mollie absolutely swore by and would actively judge girls around them on a night out if they showed too much chest.

She brushed her long hair up into a loose ponytail and quickly go to work on applying make up to her face. She hadn’t worn much make up to court, keeping it simple with just foundation and mascara but she wanted slightly more than that now.

She had just finished sweeping the wand of her liquid lipstick across her lips when she heard a light tap on the front door. 

Her legs felt like they were going to give way from underneath her if just at the sight of him and cursed herself under her breath for allowing herself to like someone this much. 

She opened the door to a grinning Christian.

“Hi-“ she had gone to say, but she didn’t get it out.

He took a step over the threshold and put on hand on her hip, the other cupping her cheek and  pulled her against him, his mouth moving cautiously against hers as if he was scared she might pull away. 

She didn’t.

She brought her arms around his neck and allowed his tongue to enter her mouth.

His hand at her hip squeezed gently before he pulled back from the kiss.

“Hi” he said. 

[pxppinmolly-archived]

💞👶🌀🌹⌛️

* Sunday HC Stuff // Accepting

💞 Would your muse ever consider a threesome (or more!)

SHE’S STILL WAITING ON THAT FIZZ/OZZIE SANDWICHING-!!!!!!

yeah ofc she has and continues to. Molly has been apart of orgies before esp when she was younger but not so much anymore because tbh lotta people aren’t shit and while YES she is easy one night stands are easier 2 pick and orgies she’s like i like to separate my peas from my mashed potatoes yk

But yeah she loves that shit. Esp if she’s the one w the center of attention <3 OAKSDJFG

👶 Does your muse want children?

SO FUCKING BAD.

IT’S ONE OF THE FEW THINGS SHE EVER WANTED IN HER DAMN LIFE.

And now she’ll never fucking get it. ... Canonically. Cus I said before yk I am willing to throw that shit out the window for THIS instance cus Im greedy n think Molly should get indulgence BUT

By default though I follow in sinners being infertile until/unless a ship partner wants 2 thread pregnancy/baby stuff in the future BUT by default yeah she is forever heartbroken and depressed of forever having a fucking empty nest.

This is why Molly spoils nearly any fucking youth she comes across she is a fucking mother hen.

🌀 What are 3 of muse’s top kinks?

Mommy kink. Breast smothering. Exhibitionism. Flipping through my f-list page. and feeling I need 2 upd8 this again

and tbh the third one can always change but the first two are constants LOL

🌹 Is your muse more interested in love or lust?

IDEALLY... She’s always interested in love.

Molly wants love. So bad. She just wants to be loved and cared after and just feel like someone gives a shit about HER... And not just for her name, her status, her body and looks, etc ...

But like you know through her entire life the only way she could ever feel that is THROUGH lust and Molly CONTINUES to act upon lust as a means to get a ‘quick fix’ of feeling like she’s cared for and desired and wanted because that’s the quickest and like. only way she believes herself to ever get it!

because that’s all she’s ever been treated as in her life yk.

and like.. this isnt to also say she just doesnt love sex in general. cus she does. its good. its fun. she does it just to do it, too but there’s sometimes it’s more of the fact of just. needing to FEEL something.

It’s an addiction like anything else really. Being exposed to such things at A VERY YOUNG AGE even /before/ she officially lost her virginity it’s just become so cemented into her person ykwim

But yeah so She’s interested in both, for sure, but in the long term she always wants love over lust

like for example with an Alastor or two she’s been with she has been PERFECTLY FINE not having sex with them... At all. Like Summer’s Alastor for example Molly hasn’t slept with yet and they’ve been together for. A long dang time. And Molly tries to initiate sometimes but he doesn’t catch on, and he ends up making her laugh or ends up just distracting her w other bits of physical affections and Molly is like Well this is fine! <3

⌛️ How long does your muse last in bed?

She can last all night and morning. From 8 PM to 8 AM. A whole twelve hours until she starts getting tired - and that is IF she’s enjoying herself with her partner. Molly is hopped up on so many drugs + adrenaline + just the enjoyment of a good time in general she can GO.

Molly HAS went even days doing sexual activity before, but. It wasn’t any fun having fun times </3 but through it she’s managed to gain quite the bit of stamina through it all and got semi used to it for awhile until ... Finally we have normalcy again but yk

[adenei]

For Romione as a sequel to your amazing “Go. You go and don’t even think about coming back here.”: BLISS “16” when they find out she’s pregnant ❤️

@my-patronus-is-a-champagne-glass aww thank you! You have no idea how much I appreciate that! ❤️ Okay, I didn’t think I could beat “Go,” but I hope you’ll enjoy this one just as much. Thank you for the idea!! I hope I did it justice

****************************************

Hermione was standing in the kitchen with Ron, looking over the display of snacks, and checking to make sure all of the furniture and trinkets were perfectly placed. They’d moved into the four bedroom cottage eight weeks ago, and had finally finished making it their own.

Their families would be arriving any minute for a housewarming party and to see the finishing touches they’d put on the place. Ron came up behind Hermione and slipped his arms around her. “Everything’s perfect, love. Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying!” she countered as she turned around and kissed him. 

“Well, you seem wound up for some reason.”

“I’m fine, Ron. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“You’re barmy if you think I ever stop worrying,” he lifted his hands to play with her hair. He went to sneak one more kiss before they heard the fireplace come to life with their first guests.

As they went to go welcome them, Hermione was glad for the distraction. If she was being honest, she did feel a bit wound up. Ever since baby James had made his arrival, Ron and Hermione had agreed that they’d start trying, and if they weren’t successful after a year, they’d seek out a Healer to see what their options could be.

Of course the year mark had passed with no luck, but life had a nasty habit of getting in the way. They’d become wrapped up in work, and then had fallen in love with the cottage they’d chosen to buy. So, they agreed to pursue a healer after they were settled in the home, and Hermione had all but given up three months ago. She and Ron had talked, and they agreed that even if they weren’t able to fill their forever home with their own children, they’d have plenty of space to have sleepovers for the growing number of nieces and nephews in the Weasley family.

The only ones who knew about the after-effects of the Cruciatus were Harry, Ginny, Fleur, and presumably Bill. Hermione didn't want anyone to know, and Ron had reluctantly agreed, though he hated not telling his parents. He felt awful every time Molly would make comments about when Ron and Hermione would have a little one of their own, and her seemingly innocent prying about when it would happen. Hermione was so strong, always politely obliging her mother in law, but never giving anything away. Fleur and Ginny had also protested Hermione’s stubbornness, but stopped when Hermione said it wasn’t up for discussion.

Now that it was mid October, and they were indeed settled, Hermione had every intention of talking to Ron about setting up an appointment with St. Mungo’s. But she’d been so tired lately with the move and renovations, not to mention her workload, that she could barely stay awake past eight o’clock to talk to him about it. As more family members began to arrive, her thoughts had dissipated and she focused on showing off the house, and fighting off another bout of exhaustion. 

Finally, everyone had settled in. The men were out back on the patio, as the kids were playing on the back lawn. Mrs. Granger and Mrs. Weasley were with Audrey and Angelina, doting on the newest babies in the family. Mrs. Weasley had taken James to give Ginny a break, who was sitting in the kitchen with Hermione. Fleur entered through the back door with a platter in hand.

“I needed to bring these inside before the men ate zem all,” she said, placing the platter on the table. “I made them for you, Hermione, I know zey are your favorite.”

“Thanks, Fleur.” Hermione said gratefully. “I suppose one won’t hurt before we eat.” She picked up one of the pink macarons off of the platter and popped it in her mouth. She’d been craving sugar more often lately, and blamed it on Ron’s influence finally wearing her down.

“Mmm, I just love the strawberry ones!” Hermione said as she took another. Both Ginny and Fleur seemed to notice, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you need anything else while I’m up?” asked Fleur. 

“Oh, bring the sausage rolls that Angelina made over! I love those,” Ginny said.

“You love them or ze baby does?” Fleur teased. Ginny was just beginning to show with her second, very much a surprise, pregnancy. 

“Does it matter? I’m eating for two regardless,” Ginny said nonchalantly. “This go around’s been much easier than with James. I hope it stays that way.”

“Oui, I know how zat goes. But Victoire was much easier than Dominique,” Fleur said as she set the sausage rolls on the table and sat down. “How is everything, Hermione?” she turned her attention across the table as Ginny eagerly added more food to her appetizer plate. 

“It’s been busy with work and the renovations. I’m so glad the house is done so we can finally enjoy living in it. Does life ever seem to slow down?” Hermione responded thoughtfully.

Ginny snorted and spoke before swallowing, her mouth half full of food. “No, if anything it just keeps getting crazier. Just wait until you have kids!” Ginny hadn’t thought before she spoke, but quickly realized her mistake as Hermione’s face fell. “Hermione, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking! I didn’t mean-”

Fleur cut her off. “Still no luck?” she asked in an empathetic voice. 

Hermione shook her head. “We’ve just stopped trying. Everything’s too stressful, and we’ve decided to contact a Healer soon, but it just keeps getting pushed back with everything.”

The three women were sitting quietly, when all of a sudden Hermione caught a whiff of the sausage rolls, and felt as though she might be sick. Ginny and Fleur noticed the abrupt change of expression.

“Everything alright, Hermione?” Ginny asked slowly.

“Yes, I think so. It’s just the smell of the sausage. It doesn’t seem to be agreeing with me today.” Hermione scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion.

“That’s odd, I thought you liked them.” Fleur said.

“I do! At least, I think I do. My stomach must be off. All the stress and nerves from preparing for today.” 

Hermione was able to pass the uncomfortable feeling as they fell into easy conversation about the kids, until another sudden wave of nausea hit Hermione. This time, she couldn’t pass it off. “I’ll be right back.” Hermione got up quickly from the table and ran upstairs to the bathroom in her bedroom. She didn’t have time to shut any of the doors as she barely made it to the toilet before she got sick. 

Ginny looked at Fleur. “Do you think she’s alright?”

“I do not know. She certainly doesn’t seem like herself,” Fleur contemplated out loud. 

“I’m going to check on her.” Ginny got up and Fleur followed.

When Hermione felt that she was done, she sat back, away from the toilet and leaned against the tub. 

“Hermione?” Fleur called. “Where are you? Are you alright?”

“I’m in here. I’m fine. Something must not have agreed with my stomach is all.” She slowly got to her feet, and rinsed out her mouth with mouthwash. Fleur was waiting for her in the doorway while Ginny sat on her bed. “I’m fine, really. Let’s go back downstairs,” Hermione insisted.

“Not a chance. Sit,” Ginny said as she padded the bed. Fleur shut the bedroom door as Hermione did as Ginny told her. “Now what’s really going on? You look exhausted, and clearly you’re not feeling well.”

“I-I don’t know,” Hermione was thinking. “I’ve been so tired over the past few weeks, and I don’t feel like I’ve been doing anything overly exhausting. I’m in bed by seven or eight every night, and I’m still tired in the morning when I wake up. This is the first time I’ve actually felt sick though. I can’t tell you the last time I threw up,” she said trying to remember. 

“Have you been eating more sugar lately? Maybe your stomach doesn’t agree with it,” Ginny suggested. 

“Why would you say that?” Hermione asked.

“Well, I’ve never seen you indulge in more than one sweet in a sitting, but you popped two macarons in less than a minute. You always ration them out for yourself. And what’s up with the sausage rolls? You love those! Remember last time we tried to eat more than Harry and Ron?” Ginny said laughing at the memory.

“Oh, God, that was such a mistake. Maybe that’s why the smell turned me off. Too many the last time.” Hermione chuckled at Ginny’s reminder.

“Hermione,” Fleur interrupted. “When was your last period?”

Hermione looked at Fleur. “What? Why?”

“Just wondering.” Fleur said.

Ginny looked from Fleur to Hermione, the possibility of Fleur’s words dawning on her. “You don’t think…” she whispered.

Hermione thought about it. “It’s been at least...eight weeks? I don’t know. It ended just before we moved in. But my periods have been so irregular ever since the hunt. I’ve gone nine weeks without one before, so eight isn’t out of the ordinary for me.” Hermione wasn’t catching Fleur’s insinuation.

“Yes, but Hermione, when’s the last time you’ve had these symptoms between periods?” Ginny pressed.

“Symptoms? What do you mean, symptoms? None of this matches my period ailments.” Hermione said.

“That’s exactly what we’re trying to say!” Ginny said exasperatedly. “Nausea...food aversion...food cravings...exhaustion…” She listed everything slowly for Hermione.

When Hermione stared at Ginny blankly, Fleur said, “Hermione, do you think you could be pregnant?”

Hermione's expression turned wide eyed as she stared at Fleur. “Well, I guess, maybe?”

“Have you or have you not had sex with Ron since your last period?” Ginny asked impatiently.

“Of course we’ve had sex since my last period! What kind of question is that?” Hermione retorted.

“Fleur, do the spell!” Ginny said excitedly, her voice raised.

“Only if Hermione wants me to,” Fleur looked at Hermione. “Maybe she’d rather have Ron here for this than us.”

“No, no, do it, please! I don’t want to get his hopes up if this is a false alarm.”

“Have you had any of those?” Ginny asked interestedly.

“No,” Hermione hung her head. “I told you, I’d all but given up.”

“Well, all hope may not be lost,” Fleur said. “Lay back on the bed, and lift up your shirt to reveal your stomach.” Hermione did as Fleur instructed. She knew the charm, and had always cast it secretly each month, hoping beyond measure, but always revealing a negative outcome. Her hands were shaking too much to even try at the current moment, so she entrusted Fleur instead.

Fleur cast the charm, and instead of the yellow negative color Hermione had become so used to seeing over the past year, the ball of light over her stomach turned a deep, bright purple. Hermione couldn’t believe her eyes,as the tears welled up instantaneously.

“You are indeed pregnant. Very much so,” Fleur said with a wide smile as Ginny squealed uncontrollably.

“Let me try the charm!” Hermione said suddenly, as if not believing what Fleur had just revealed. Sure enough, the same deep purple color appeared in a ball as Hermione performed the charm with her own wand. “I can’t believe it. I really didn’t think- after what the mediwitch said three years ago. I need to tell Ron!” Hermione’s thoughts were running a mile a minute.

Ginny hopped off the bed, “I’ll go get him!”

“Ginny, do not even think of giving anything away!” Ginny stopped in the doorway to let Hermione finish. “And don’t you dare tell anyone either! No one can know until after we’ve seen a Healer and can confirm everything is fine and the baby is healthy, and will be able to grow.”

Ginny pouted, “Not even Harry?”

“No! Not even Harry. Let Ron be able to tell him. Ron’ll kill you if you take that away from him.”

“Ugh, fine!” she said as she opened the door and headed toward the backyard.

Hermione pulled her shirt down and sat up as Fleur leaned in to hug her. “I am so happy for you both. I know how hurt you were when you found out, and I’ve carried a lot of guilt, thinking I could have done something more to prevent it.”

Hermione smiled at her sister-in-law. “Fleur, you probably saved my life with your quick action that day. I’ll never forget that. I don’t blame you for anything, so please don’t blame yourself.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” she said as she stood up. They could hear Ron bounding up the stairs. “I’ll see you in a bit,” as she smiled knowingly.

Ron entered their bedroom abruptly. “What’s wrong? Hermione, are you alright?” he asked as he noticed her on the bed. Fleur had slipped out and closed the door behind her.

“I’m fine, Ron, how many times do I have to tell you that.” Hermione rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the grin on her face. 

“But Ginny made it seem urgent. Told me not to make a scene and just go in the house casually. What the bloody hell is going on, Hermione. Why were you three up here?”

“Well,” Hermione wasn’t sure where to start, but trusted her brain to make the right words come out, “I had to come upstairs because I felt sick, and I ended up throwing up in the toilet. Ginny and Fleur came up to check on me.”

“But you haven’t gotten sick like that in- I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you sick like that…” Ron interrupted.

“I know, Ron. So anyways, I explained how it was sudden, and how I’ve been tired all the time, among a few other things, and well…” Hermione held her wand up shakily and performed the charm nonverbally again. The same tiny ball shot out of her wand tip and turned the same shade of purple for a third time. 

Ron stared at the ball, then looked down at Hermione’s stomach before meeting her eyes with a shocked look of his own.

“Hermione,” he whispered, “Are you really…”

“Pregnant. Yes!” She said as fresh tears glistened in her eyes. She dropped her wand, breaking the charm as Ron leaned over her and met her lips with his. 

“I love you. I love you so much. I can’t believe we’re actually...how long?”

“Eight weeks, I think.”

“When do you think we-” he didn’t finish his sentence as he leaned into her and started kissing her again.

She thought through the kiss, and broke away, when she’d done the math and realized when it happened. “I think it was our first night here,” she said quietly.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said, reigniting their snog.

Before they got too carried away, Hermione gently pushed at his chest. “Ron, you know I’d love to keep going, but we’ve got a house full of people downstairs who might wonder where we are.”

“Ugh, why do you always have to be right,” he said reluctantly as he pulled away. She laughed. 

Before she could get up, Ron moved down toward her belly, and gently placed a soft kiss on it, before setting his hand down where he’d just kissed where he imagined their unborn baby to be, growing inside of her. “I haven’t even met you yet, but I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone this much, besides your Mum of course, and I’ve only just met you.” He leaned in to give Hermione one more kiss before getting up and holding out his hand to help her up as well.

Both Hermione and Ron knew they weren’t out of the woods yet because the scar tissue could prevent the healthy growth of the baby, and Hermione knew she’d need to owl straightaway for an appointment. But something felt so right, and there was excitement and happiness that had been restored in her heart that gave her the hope to believe everything would be alright. In seven short months they’d finally bring this long awaited child into the world.

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

The Triwizard Tragedy

summary: a collections of moments between Rachel & Cedric before his death. Also her coping with his passing afterwards.

warnings: depression, ptsd (maybe), death

October 25, 1999 - The Present -

Rachel was constantly wrong, about a lot of things. For one, she was not the first person to ever feel the pain of lose. Second, she would eventually heal. But it didn't feel that way. Not to her. Not now.

In the dawn of war, Rachel had returned to her alma mater to fight against the very person who had taken away the love of her life. Cedric Diggory had died years ago, leaving a cocky, lovable Hufflepuff sized hole in her heart. For the last few years of her schooling, she had distractions from the pain left, right, and centre. In the midst of war she never really had time to grieve.

Of course, she never had any direct contact in battle with Lord Voldemort, but sending a few death eaters to their graves was enough. But that didn't make her feel better, instead the reminder that she had taken lives, even on a battlefield, had her waking up screaming in the middle of the night, traumatized by the memories of the past. The ghosts roaming her mind. It was like a constant stinging reminder that the pain she felt over losing Cedric, someone definitely felt about the men she'd hurt during the war. She knew she was on the right side, and those men were evil. But it still felt as though there was no coming back from ending a life.

Her best friend and roommate (until he moved in with Angelina Johnson, but that has never been truly talked about) is the only person that Rachel was really close with. Everyone else she knew was left at arms length. Never getting close enough to hurt her.

George knew what she was feeling, probably worse. He had lost the most important person in the world to him. And he'd never be the same. But he was managing. He had the legacy of the Wheezes, and he had his family. He had his fiancée and his best friend, who he was deeply worried about. He'd tried to talk to her about the clear PTSD and grief she displayed, but like a switch she would shut off whenever the conversation would start. Once she shut off, she was a robot for days, and he couldn't risk doing that too much for fear that something horrible would happen to her. He was afraid he was going to lose her to herself.

And he couldn't lose her.

You see, after the war, after feeling like nothing would ever be okay again. Rachel pounded on the door to the closed shop of the Wheezes. When George continued lying in Fred's bunk bed, she broke in. She climbed into bed with him and they stayed there for days. Leaving only to use the bathroom and eat. Then she snapped her fingers, and said, "let's get this baby back into business."

And just like that, they had a distraction to focus on instead of dealing with their pain. The difference between the two was that George would frequently talk to his siblings, and reach out to them when he needed support. Rachel was like a brick wall, and wouldn't say a word even as she wept alone in her room.

George couldn't let it go on forever, soon she'd die of a broken heart. So he did what any confused, young man would do. He ran to his mother and asked for help.

"I think that maybe I'm not the one who's going to pull her out of this, mum. I've tried but I think I'm too close to it to see what she needs."

Molly only smiled slightly, and took a day - with the help of Hermione, to head to the Wheezes and try and talk to Rachel. The store closed early on Sunday's, giving both Rachel and George the afternoon off. Ron took the entire Sunday since the mornings were slow anyway.

Rachel didn't notice at first that this was a gentle intervention, and put on a cup of tea for both of her guests. Hermione casually strolled around the shop, giving some space to Molly and Rachel.

Rachel served the tea.

"How are you doing, honey?" Molly asked, trying to sound as light as possible, not wanting Rachel to shut her out.

"I'm fine, store could use a little cleaning tonight, and I might get a head start on the inventory night for tomorrow."

Molly suspected she'd be filling her time with distractions this week. Saturday would've been Cedric's birthday. Molly thought for a moment, and decided to just go for it, and fill Rachel's head with Cedric before Molly could be shut out.

"How old would he be?" she asked. She knew the answer, but she needed to talk about Cedric. That was the root of Rachel's pain.

Rachel quickly went as stiff as a board, as her head filled with images of the boy she loved so much. The boy who took her heart and died with it still in his possession.

"What is this?" Rachel asked, standing from the table. "How dare you?"

"I just want to help you, Rachel. You're wasting away in here. We're worried about you," Molly said, "We love you and we want to help."

"Who's we? You and Hermione?" Rachel asked, Molly stayed quiet. "Did George put you up to this?" Rachel sighed. "Of course he did. Well if I'm causing this much stress maybe I should just get out of his hair then."

Rachel left the room, and climbed to her bedroom. Angrily, she threw clothes into a trunk, crying and repeating how everyone should just leave her alone. She sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets in her hands until her knuckled turned white. She had pushed Cedric out of her mind for so long, and his memory was like a dam bursting, filled her head until she was drowning in her pain.

November 16, 1992. - Fourth Year -

Rachel held her potions textbook tight against her chest, willing this git Marcus Flint to give her back her essay. He persisted in trying to get a kiss from her.

"Come on, who says Gryffindors and Syltherins have to be enemies? We can be sweethearts instead," he said, grinning.

Gross.

She rolled her eyes, and once again told him to just give it back. She didn't have time for this, it was almost dinner time and she had plans to meet her friend afterwards to play chess. Also, she just didn't particularly care to be harassed.

"I'm not giving it back until I get a kiss, love."

"Not happening," she said, shaking her head.

"Well, then I guess I'll keep this. I don't need it but I bet I could sell it to someone in your year. Last chance, love."

"Give her the parchment back, Flint," a boy said, approaching the pair. He was a Hufflepuff prefect, and absolutely stunning. She knew him as Cedric Diggory, all the girls did. He was in the year above her, so there was no way he knew who she was. She felt her cheeks heat up as Cedric came to save her homework. She could've turned into putty right then and there.

"Who's gonna make me? You? You've got no power over me, Diggory."

"No, you're right about that. Except I am a prefect, and I would hate for Snape to hear about this, I really would."

"He'd take my word, he wouldn't believe you."

"He'd believe her, top marks in his class you know. Above all the Slytherins," he said, smirking. "And he'd know you definitely didn't write that. All the words are probably spelled right."

"And if I rip it right now, burn it even. How are you going to prove it?"

Rachel saw Snape rounding the corner only a few feet away from where they were standing. He had an extra sour look on his face, the kind of face he made when he knew he'd have to discipline someone from his own house. Marcus hadn't noticed him approach yet.

"I won't have to."

"I'll take the essay, Mr Flint," Snape said, putting a hadn't on Marcus' shoulder. Snape unrolled the essay, skimming over it briefly. "You disappoint me, Mr Flint. Five points from Slytherin, and an essay on why stealing is wrong to be on my desk by the end of tomorrow."

Snape looked at Rachel and scowled, before giving her back to essay and leaving. Marcus huffed off as well.

"Thanks, I really didn't want to do that twice," she said. She wanted to ask how he knew she had top marks, but she figured he was bluffing. Good thing Marcus hadn't called it.

"No problem, Rachel. Happy to help," Cedric said, walking off.

She took a breath and began walking towards the Great hall, before stopping dead in her tracks and turning around in time to see him turning the corner, out of her sight.

He knew her name?

October 25, 1999 - The Present -

The pain in her chest was agonizing. It was like her chest had been set on fire, while her mind filled with water and froze. The tears continued to fall, as her white knuckles began to fall numb. She was suffering. She'd never really let herself grieve over Cedric. She stuck to distractions, and numbing herself.

Turns out she couldn't stop the pain, only postpone it. And today it was coming back with interest.

Rachel heard the door open, and relaxed her hands, letting the blood flow return, making her hand tingle with pins and needles.

She looked up and saw Hermione peeking her head in. The girls used to be a lot closer than they were today. That was how it was with pretty much anyone that used to be close with Rachel. After Rachel's sixth year, aside from Fred and George, she'd pushed away everyone, and shut them out. Refusing to give anyone the power to leave her.

"He would've been 22," Rachel said, her voice no louder than a whisper. Hermione said nothing, but continued to look at Rachel. She'd never seen her look so weak. It was always hidden. Suffer in silence.

"Not to say you're wrong to miss him, and hurt over the fact that he's gone. But we've all lost people. And we've survived by dealing with it. That's all we want for you, we just want you to experience life again." Hermione sat down on the bed next to Rachel, and put a soft hand on her shoulder. Rachel genuinely couldn't remember the last time she'd been shown physical affection from anyone. She hadn't hugged anyone since Fred died. “We miss you.”

“I think I miss me, too.” Rachel sighed. “But I miss him, more.”

February 12 - Fourth Year -

Rachel crossed paths with Cedric Diggory again, less than a week later. He was standing in front of the Great Hall, talking to a friend of his – Jon, she thought his name was. And she was passing by, trying to escape without having to make eye contact with him. She knew that if she saw his beautiful smile, or the way his grin made it up to his eyes, letting you know that everything about him was genuine. It made her sick. Made the butterflies in her tummy jump to life, like a toddler was running through and disturbing them.

“Hey, Rachel!” Cedric said, thwarting her plan. “Wait up.”

She had no choice to, there was no way to pretend she didn't hear him. She turned around with a forced smile. Small talk is easy to fake, just get through it.

“You okay?” he asked, his grin fading into concern and he put a hand on her arm, immediately setting it on metaphorical fire.

“Yeah, uh, I just need air.”

She ran away.

From the cutest boy in the world.

She ran.

Was she ever embarrassed.

She made it to the entrance of the school, and sat on the top stair. Putting her head in her hands and trying not to cry of embarrassment. When the guy you develop a crush on touches you... don't run away, maybe? A couple of deep breaths later, and someone joined her outside. Cedric had followed her out here? Why? He didn't even know her.

“You're pretty quick,” he said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. She said nothing. “You want to talk about anything?”

“How'd you know my name?”

“Uh, we met last year.”

She shook her head. “No, why didn't. I would've remembered that.”

A blush crept onto his cheeks, and he looked away from her. Now she was really confused.  “I might have asked your friends about you.”

“What? Why? They never said anything.”

“I kind of lied to them, and said I was just trying to learn everybody's name. They pointed out like forty people before they got to you. Funny thing is, I don't remember any of the other names. I was just anxious to get to yours.” His grin was back on his face, but his cheeks still held the ghost of a blush.

“Why me?” she asked.

“Because I think you're beautiful,” he said without skipping a beat.

Rachel blushed, her eyes growing wide. He chuckled when she looked away. Between the pair of them the only pattern was a 'blush and turn.' Casually, Cedric slide closer to her, so their thighs were touching, and from the corner of her eyes she saw him drumming his fingers against his knee. With a relax face, and natural smile she looked over at him, and tried to find an ounce of a lie in his features. When she couldn't find one, she settled for just smiling at him. He smiled back. When she thought the moment was ending, he was planning to start a new one. He moved his hand up to her neck, and ever so gently guided her closer, giving her every opportunity to move away. When she started moving with his advances, he smirked. Drawing her in for the final collide of a kiss. They both knew they were goners, right then and there.

Hogwarts was truly magical.

October 25, 1999 - Present Day -

“I can't think about it anymore, Hermione. It hurts,” Rachel said. “It hurts so much.”

“I know,” she said, tearing up. Hermione felt pain in her chest watching Rachel breakdown. Was t weird for her to admit it was better to see her breakdown than shut down? Felt like they were having a break through. “Tell me about the day.”

“Which day?”

“The day he died.”

“No, no, no, no...” she kept repeating no, but Hermione stood her ground.

“You need to talk through your feelings. I have all day. Just start stalking and if you need to stop and cry, or collect your thoughts. Fine, that's absolutely fine. But I'm afraid if you wait any longer your going to permanently stunt your emotions.”

“It hurts...”

It felt like Hermione was forcing razors down her throat. Felt like she was fighting against drinking a lava smoothie. If she recounted the day, after all these years. She could no longer deny he was dead. Could no longer hope that one day he'd walk through the door as if he hadn't missed a day. Could hold her and tell her everything would be fine.

June 24, 1995 - Fifth Year -

She sat crossed legged on the bleachers, on edge just as everyone else was. She was so hoping that Cedric won. She'd be so proud of him. Her boyfriend, the Triwizard Champion. Even thinking the words made her excited.

“I thought you hated the idea of the whole thing,” Hermione said, eyeing her friend.

“I've come around to it,” Rachel said, smiling. “He's been so proud of himself. And I've been proud of him. And I'll admit, every time he completes one of those challenges, and he's all proud and sweaty... it's pretty sexy.”

“You're shameless,” Hermione said, laughing.

“Maybe.”

Then someone appeared back at the start of the maze. Harry came back first, he won! Rachel got ready to cheer, happy that at least Hogwarts won if not Cedric. But then she noticed something else.

“Is he knocked out?” Hermione whispered, talking about Cedric.

There was a commotion down there, and immediately Rachel was fighting and shoving her way down the the area. She hopped over the wall and made it, staring at the body of her body, lying lifeless on the grass. She heard things going on around her, but she couldn't make out details. The air around her felt thin, she couldn't breath. She felt dizzy, and confused, and upset. What was going on? What happened? It's okay, he's just petrified she kept repeating in her head. But she knew that wasn't true.

On her arms she felt two cool, firm hands. She looked and saw Professor McGonagall gently shaking her, and telling her not to look. The words, Do you hear me? Rachel, don't look! Don't look! Didn't even register with her. She kept staring at Cedric's face. His beautiful face. Frozen.

Cedric wasn't going to wake up. He died out there. The air got thinner. And her throat got tighter. But she didn't even realize she was dizzy – she just kept staring at Cedric until tears streamed down her face. But it wasn't even crying, she just hadn't blinked in so long. She couldn't stop looking at her recently deceased boyfriend.

“What's happening?” she asked, but it came out in a wheeze. And only a few seconds later, Rachel passed out, falling onto the ground like a ragdoll.

October 25, 1999 - Present Day -

After recounting every second of that day, Rachel wept for another twenty minutes before the tears finally stopped.

“I never got to say goodbye. There was so much wee were supposed to do. So much I had to say. So much left,” she said. Hermione still hadn't spoken. “I was so mad at him, Hermione. For weeks I was so mad at him. I kept thinking, I knew this tournament was going to be a horrible idea. And I begged him not to enter. I begged him, but he did it. And I supported him – like a girlfriend is supposed to. And then he died. And I was mad.” Rachel didn't start crying again, but her throat tightened and she felt like it could start at anytime. “How am I supposed to move on from perfection? From someone who loved me so genuinely, and selflessly? From someone who didn't break up with me but is just... gone.”

“You don't move on,” Hermione finally said. “He's never going to leave you. He's always going to be a part of you, you have to know that by now. I get that you feel guilty for living when he isn't, but you have to remember he wouldn't want you to waste your life. He wanted more for you than anyone. You don't move on, you don't forgive and forget. You forgive and carry on his memory, because that's all you can do. And one day, when your kids, or my kids, or George's kids... someone, asks you about your first love. You tell them. You tell them that you fell in love with a beautiful guy who was a perfect gentleman. And you tell them that you still love him, and you will always love him. But love doesn't stop because a heartbeat did.”

Rachel sat unmoving during Hermione's whole speech.

“Did you rehearse that?” she asked, smiling.

Hermione laughed. “Yes I did.”

For the first time in years, Rachel thought she might be okay one day. She just needed to let them in. Let her friends back in.

June 1, 1995 - Fifth Year -

“Not still mad at me, are you?” Cedric asked, sitting between his girlfriend's legs, propping his elbows on her knees and sinking back into her chest. Even, yes, she was still mad – she loved when he tucked himself close to her. She continued reading her book without answering him, letting go with one hand to get comfortable. She raised the book above his head, and set her now free palm on the grass, feeling the blades between her fingers. “C'mon, babe! Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen.”

She sighed, and closed her book with one hand, making sure to use enough pressure to let it slam with a clap. “They cancelled these games because people kept dying, you realize that?”

“I'm not going to die,” Cedric said, stretching himself up to nuzzle his nose against her neck. She sighed contentedly at the softness of his hair, brushing against her sensitive neck. He laid a few gentle kisses on the skin there, before slacking back down to his original lazy posture. “Cute that you're so worried about me though.”

“It's not cute,” she said, rolling her eyes. She set her book down and wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing the side of her head against his. He laughed, and turned to kiss her cheek.

“I love you, always and forever.”

She sighed happily. “I love you, forever and always.”