@plumadesatada well, you kinda asked for it and this is where my head went. maybe I’ll make it a series of drabbles :p
(Apologies for the lack of cut, I’m on mobile but I can add one in later)
The platform seems unusually busy this year, and for a moment Harry wonders if it’s just his imagination but he knows it’s not. He’s had the conversation with Hermione in her office about the sudden increase in the magic population in the UK. It’s taken almost twenty years, but the birth rate has finally gone up and they’re starting to recover from the death tolls of the Wizarding Wars.
These are the children born in the aftermath.
The realization is making him weirdly emotional. But maybe that’s just seeing Lily with her own owl on her arm, her luggage being pushed by an obliging Teddy Lupin who despite being graduated for the last three years, showed up to see her off.
It’s likely a mixture of things. He’s about to turn to his two boys and ask them if they’ve got everything (for the millionth time because inevitably something has been forgotten—there’s always something forgotten) when Albus pushes past him with a happy whoop, wheeling his cart recklessly through the crowd. It takes him a moment to realize what has caught his attention, when he spies the blond hair and feels some of his nostalgia curdle.
Malfoy’s face—caught off guard in an indulgent smile—also stiffens, the two fathers drawn together as their sons reunite animatedly. It’s only been three weeks since Scorpius had joined them for the Quiditch match up in Brighton, but you’d think it had been an eternity from the way Albus practically flings himself bodily at the taller boy.
“Potter,” the other man spits, seemingly unable to say his name any other way.
“Malfoy.” Harry acknowledges him shortly.
Somewhere behind him, James makes the wise decision to follow after his sister than hang around listening to his father and his oldest rival spit civilities at each other like hissing tomcats.
“Busy this year.” Malfoy comments, grey eyed gaze darting to his son when Scorpius laughs loudly at something Albus has said.
“Seems so.” Harry agrees, forced to smile hurriedly as someone recognizes him, squeezes his arm and says a hurried thank you before rushing on with their offspring towards the train.
“Still Mister Famous then.” Malfoy notes, thin smile ticking up a notch. “I do wonder people don’t have better things to talk about.”
Still infamous then, is on the tip of his tongue when he notes the wide berth people are giving the Malfoys, but he clamps down on the impulse. Scorpius might hear him, and from what Albus has told him the boy gets enough bullying from his peers without hearing it from his elders. And he promised himself long ago he’d never be That adult.
“Yea well,” Harry replies, flashing him a grin that borders of friendly but not quite. “We can’t all be married to the new Chief Sports Editor of the Prophet.”
Malfoy snorts at that, eyebrow raising as he gives Harry what he’s almost sure is an amused look. “Too true.”
“Ugh,” Albus says from somewhere near Harry’s shoulder, “Come on, they’ll be at this all day, lets get some sweets for the train.”
“You’ve already got sweets for the train.” Scorpius replies, but following after Albus anyway, dark and fair heads bobbing together as they move around each other, like planets orbiting one another, bound by an invisible force.
“He’s getting tall.” Malfoy says, also watching the boys go and idly catching his son’s abandoned luggage cart with his foot, reminding Harry to do the same, managing to stop the listing cart before it rolls away.
“So is Scorpius.”
“Do you think we were that tall at their age?”
“I think others probably thought so.”
“Hm.” It’s a polite, almost congenial sound which Harry takes as his opening.
“I hear congratulations are in order.”
Malfoy turns to face him again, pale eyes wary but curious. “Oh?”
“I hear Astoria is expecting again.”
“Ah, yes.” Malfoy smiles, and this time there is no malice, no pretense at haughty collectedness. It reaches all the way to his eyes with a pure kind of joy, and for a moment Harry can see Scorpius’ face so clearly it hurts him to think of the kind of childhood either of them could have had were it not for the circumstances of their birth. “Yes. March of next year, we think.”
“Congratulations. I hope she’s doing well.”
Malfoy inclines his head again, his joy tempering into something gentler at the real implied meaning. “Yes,” he agrees. “Things are much better this time.”
There’s a crash by the convection stand, and without even turning Harry knows it’s something he’s going to have to pay for.
“Kids, eh?” he says, feeling sheepish at the look of paternal horror dawning on Malfoy’s face as he peers over Harry’s shoulder.
“Boys, here now.” Malfoy says, calling them like they’re well trained hounds as he pushes past Harry towards the stand. “I’m so sorry, do allow me to make amends.”
“Oh, no!” Harry rounds quickly, “My fault…probably…allow me.”
“Absolutely not, Potter, I wont hear of it.”
“Oh yes you bloody will.”
Covered in foaming pumpkin juice and sparkling tongue dancers, Scorpius and Albus share a look.
“Do you think they’ll always be like this?” Albus asks, taking an experimental lick of his sticky hand, the juice and dancers apparently melding to make some sort of growing taffy. It’s surprisingly good. He should tell uncle Ron and George about it for the shop.
“Probably.” Scorpius replies, attempting in vain to scrape himself clean.
“Where on earth is oh.” Albus smiles sheepishly up at his mother as she comes to a halt in front of them. She glances between the boys, and then to her bickering husband who is all but manhandling Scorpius’ father out of the way. “Merlin’s Beard. Right, you two.”
“Is she talking to us or them?”
“Them,” Albus says with certainty. He knows when his mother is directing that tone at him. “Definitely them.”
Gripping the straps of your backpack, you wearily stared at the stony underpass littered with weeds, branches and scattered leaves; wondering if passing through the entrance and walking inside the forest filled with trees and who knew what else was on the other side would be worth it. You wondered if walking for ten miles up a mountain would in any way be okay as you glanced towards the chipped and tattered wooden sign that indicated how long and what to beware of for the hike that would soon ensue, but it wasn’t like you had a choice of turning back now.
You were then pushed into the other side of the underpass, stumbling slightly before blinking as you watched the boys laughing while someone patted your back softly. “Lighten up,” you heard Hoseok say, walking passed you before eyeing you over his shoulder, “it’s going to be amazing!”
Gulping, you turned behind you to see the parking lot void of any life as your cars settled side by side, completely empty as you all carried your needed necessities inside your packs. You were told that the trip was going to be fun, that the mountain you were supposed to be residing in was one of the most beautiful ones in the country, but somehow, something was eating at your brain as you felt a strange feeling prickling in the darkest pits of your stomach; that once you were off the mountain..
‘Hmm,’ said a small voice in his ear. ‘Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting … So where shall I put you?’
Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, ‘Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.’
'Not Slytherin, eh?’ said a small voice. 'Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no? Well, if you’re sure - better be GRYFFINDOR!’
Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole Hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily towards the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, 'We got Potter! We got Potter!’
Request → “
could you do an eddie, richie, bill one (or whoever ya please!) where the reader got their wisdom teeth out and the boy is taking care of them? i got mine out this morning and am currently suffering™”
A/N→ mouth pain is the WORST, hope ur feeling better by now!!!!
Pairing → Bill Denbrough x Reader, Richie Tozier x Reader, Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader
Warnings → eh. none
↳ You woke up groggy and groaned at the dull pain in
the back of your mouth, pushing your face further into the pillow. You felt a
cool hand on your face, and your hair being tucked away so that you weren’t
laying on it. “Duh-Don’t be such a c-crybaby” hushed Bill, and you huffed in
He reached over you, reaching between your
curtains to open the windows on the wall your bed leant against. You looked at
him as he clicked them open above you, his face was reddish, and he was
sweating. Bill had flunked school when he learned you were
still struggling with yesterday’s pain from having your damn teeth ripped out.
Since so many of you asked so kindly, here we are my lovely starlings! All the love to @ohwhataprettypinkhat for being my friend and helping me so much to add to her lovely prompt. You’re the real MVP here!
The planet was interesting to say
the least. It wasn’t humanoid enough to mistake it for earth. But it also
wasn’t foreign enough to mistake it for another alien planet. It was a strange
disorientating mix. Though Lance could feel the extra gravity weighing on him,
his arm was buzzing with a strange numbness too that felt heavier than the rest
of his body. The lion on his arm almost feeling like it was real and digging
into his shoulder and not just alien ink.
Reasons I can’t get “Pierre & Anatole” out of my head
I had firmly resolved that “The Confrontation” from Les Miserables would always and forever be my favorite male-to-male confrontation in all of musical theatre. Firmly resolved. But then came Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 (or just The Great Comet) and asdfghjkl guys, I’ve been obsessing over the whole musical. Especially with the Original Broadway cast album just released!!
Anyways, here’s some of the reasons I love “Pierre and Anatole” so much. There are spoilers, so stay away if you’re afraid of those ;)
-the TENSION alone from the opening music…and they haven’t even spoken yet!
-Even though the lyrics are almost directly quoted from the actual book War and Peace, they still seem so musical and rhyme-y
-“Mon cher” (Anatole is literally calling Pierre “my dear” in French)
-How snobbish and aloof Anatole is trying to seem when he’s really about to wet his pants
-The rage of Pierre!!!
-“I don’t know what deprives me of the pleasure of smashing your head in with this” (Pierre holding a paper weight)
-The difference from how Pierre was all “f*ck it” in “Preparations,” and “The Abduction,” when he didn’t know that the girl Anatole was marrying happened to be Natasha, to how he is all “f*ck you” in this song, now that he has the knowledge
-“Pierre paces the room several times in silence. Anatole sits at a table, frowning and biting his lips”
-Anatole being a stupid whiny little b*tch and yet still…
-“Amuse youself with women like my wife!”
^omg. this. line. Need I go in to how Anatole and Helene are *probably* the Jaime and Cersei Lannister of their day? Need I?! And all the other stuff…omg. This is a harsh bite.
-just every way that Pierre puts Anatole in his place to defend honor that isn’t even his own
-“But you have used such words to me—"Scoundrel,“ and so on, Which, as a man of honor, I will not allow anyone to use” ha.ha.ha. “You could at least take back your words, eh? If you want me to do as you wish”
Pierre you better not! No Pierre!!!
- “Fine I take them back”
and not only does Pierre “take them back,” he also asks that Anatole forgive him, and then gives money to that heartless chihuahua!!! And he offers—offers to do so. Smh. WTF?! Why?!?!?!
-“For Petersbuuuuuuurrrrrrrg!” (you will have to listen to it to understand)
A/N: Hi everyone! This was requested by anon. I’m sorry it isn’t my usual lengthy write-up but I just decided to keep this short and sweet tbh. I hope you guys still like it though! Enjoy!
Request: Hi can I ask for a Zach x reader where Zach finds out the reader’s on her period? He gets flustered and googles what to do… thanks :)
“Babe, I can’t go to the game today, I’m so sorry. I’m having really bad period pains and the slightest movement would cause the most excruciating pain you can ever imagine.” I tell Zach over the phone. It was their big game today and it sucked that I couldn’t be there to support him.
“Wh-what?” Zach mumbles on the other line, I can imagine him scratching his head, with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The thought itself made me shake my head and smile.
“I’m on my period Zachary, you know the 3-5 days females bleed from down south?” I ask while I’m curled up into a ball on my bed.
“N-no, y-yeah, I know what a period is, no.” he stutters and I giggle at him.
“I’m really sorry baby, I promise I’ll make it up to you soon. I won’t miss another game, ever. I’m sorry.” I say, I can hear him sigh from the other line which broke my heart.
“It’s okay babe, don’t worry. As long as you get some rest, that’s what matters.” he answers but I can still hear the disappointment in his voice.
“Good luck Zachary. Do your best okay?” I reply softly.
“I will Y/N. Feel better soon baby.” he says and we both bid goodbye to each other.
After ending the call, I suddenly realize why Zach was acting so flustered while we were talking. It has only been about a month ever since we started officially dating and this is actually the first time that this has happened since. I smile at the thought of him being so confused and worried at the same time. A couple of minutes later and the pain on my stomach causes me to doze off.
Later that day
I hear a faint knock on my door which makes my eyes flutter open. However, I just couldn’t bring myself to move an inch. Luckily, I heard the door creak open before I even had to prepare myself to get up. To my surpise, a pouting Zach Dempsey comes in and places a couple of bags on my desk before walking over to my bed and leaning above me.
“It’s them, but it’s not them !” 2/2 -Bruce Wayne x Reader
@m-fairbank also asked the same thing, things happening on Batmom’s point of you, and also some of the batboys…and I kinda planned something like that anyway. So here’s a sequel for “It’s her but it’s not her”, and I hope you’ll like it (and hope the “mixed feelings” were still good ones ;-)) AGAIN felt like I could write something better, might re-write everything…I rushed a bit writing it cause I’m in L.A but I also wanted to write something and…I guess it’s this kind of time eh.
Summary : Batman and his kids accidentally got send in an alternate dimension, and Batmom has the displeasure of realizing that her Bruce from this other world is…not hers at all.
When your husband and kids came home with Diana and Clark, you didn’t think too much of it. It wasn’t unusual for your friends to come over to the bat cave and work, or even just chill.
But when you went to kiss Bruce, and you felt him stiffen under your touch. When he didn’t kiss back, and even moved away, his head moving back and forth between you and Clark, stunned. When your sons stared at you with wide eyes and open mouthes…you realized something was wrong.
-Wh…what is it ?
Bruce didn’t say anything, he found he couldn’t say anything. The Hell just happened ? Clark’s wife just kissed him ! And…What was she doing in the bat cave anyway, at this hour ?
Under your husband’s gaze, you felt uncomfortable for the first time in your life. Usually, he had the opposite effect on you, you were always so relaxed around him. Even during charity balls or such obligations you had as Waynes, when your introverted self felt awful, his mere presence calmed you down and helped you get threw the night.
But right now, the way he was looking at you made you shiver. You didn’t recognize his usual look…In his eyes right now, there were no love, no relief to see you well and alive, no joy, no slight impatience to finally get to bed with you. Instead, there was confusion, embarrassment, and a slight touch of curiosity maybe ?
And your children…None of them rushed to hug you first, or to tell you who’s ass they kicked this time.