Bub Demanding To Stay On Daddys Arm When He Needs To Go To A Meeting So Bub Stays There The Whole Meeting

bub demanding to stay on daddy’s arm when he needs to go to a meeting so bub stays there the whole meeting while touching his face the whole time and tugging at his hair

OKAY BUT IMAGINE THIS FOR REAL I AM UNWELL

He’s doing one of those Skype interviews and he thinks he’s in the clear but then his bub BUSTS in the room demanding to be held and demanding to know who he’s talk to. He’d ask if it was mama because they always FaceTime each other when they’re away and it would make everyone swoon. Harry would tell them they can stay as long as they’re good and they ARE, but they keep doing little things to Harry that makes it hard for him to concentrate on the interviewer’s questions. He’s trying to talk about how much he’s looking forward to touring the US next summer but he can’t say much because because bub is pulling on their cheeks like Harry does to them when he’s messing around with them and trying to make them laugh.

Harry doesn’t want to cause a scene because he knows he’s on camera and if he scolds them in the slightest it’ll be taken out of context so he just rolls with it and laughs it off. When bub gets comfortable and realizes the person Harry is talking to is his “friend” (not really but Harry is just so personable and friendly that he acts like everyone is his close pal), they start wanting to talk to them too! They keep interrupting and telling the person behind the camera that they’re “FWEEE YEARS OLD” and that they had a mango for breakfast and that later they’re going to swim in the pool with nana and everyone is just so caught up in Baby Styles that they let it go on and on and it’s all ANYONE talks about for weeks 🥺🥺🥺

Ultrasound; - John Wick x Reader

4.3k words

summary : you’re 4 months pregnant, and your husband john is everything you’ve ever wanted. however, he misses your ultrasound appointment, leading to you being upset with him.

warnings : pregnant reader. angst, but also lots of fluff! x f! reader. 

notes : requested by lovely anon! I really hope you enjoy this, lovie. I know you had asked for a heated argument, however, I just couldn’t bring myself to write John being angry at his s/o. he’s too much of a softie :) as always, please do leave comments and feedback, it means so much! I’m a little nervous for this one aH be kind pls ily xx

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Source: emmett_sparling

Toxic

Summary: you get interviewed on the red carpet and asked about your costar.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Actress!Reader

“What’s it like working with Chris?” The interviewer asked.

“He’s a fucking cunt,” you said. “He drains the life out of you. He’s so fucking toxic. I don’t want to work with him ever again.”

“We literally have a child together and we got another one coming,” Chris said looking at you. “You also married me.”

“See, manipulative too,” you said.

Chris laughs and wraps his arms around you from behind. You try your hardest to hold back a smile. You put your hands over his that rest on your baby bump.

“But no, it was pretty nice to work alongside him and his stupid face,” you said.

Your husband kisses your cheek making your face heat up. You lean back against his chest a bit.

“How was it for you, Chris, to work with Y/n?” The interviewer asked.

“What’s that one song? It’s a Britney Spears song,” Chris said.

“Toxic?” You suggested.

“Exactly. Y/n’s toxic. So very very toxic,” he said. “I hope to never work with her again.”

“Sounds like a plan, honey,” you said smiling.

Florence and the Machine – No Choir

Morning Routine [Howl/Reader]

Summary: You learned to the rise from slumber when the first shout echoed from downstairs.

a/n: multiple people have asked for another howl fic. here u go.

—————-

The cataclysm that was your life often began just as dawn broke across the sky, all with its hues of pink and orange spearing through the shroud of night. You knew it not by the caress of light seeping through the slithers of space between your curtains, nor by crowing roosters in their tragically optimistic song. In fact, by comparison to what you typically endured, a rooster would by far be your preference.

At that point, you had become attuned to stirring right around that time as it was; the fog of sleep still sat in your mind like an anvil, inciting your head back to your pillow for just a bit longer. You always resisted because it would never amount to anything anyway. So there you sat, legs hanging like lead over the edge, shoulders and back rolled forward in such a way you felt the pull of gravity teetering you towards the floor.

You eyes were the last thing to adjust, keeping them closed for the most part until you found the bravery in you to put forth your feet and stand. Most day, however, you waited for the castle to erupt.

And that it did.

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