I Have A Headcannon That Paul Was A Goofy Child Growing Up And Often Gave His Parents Headaches.

✮⋆˙ 𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕'𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 .ᐟ

╰┈➤ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, Paul Atreides gets baby fever and pesters his beloved wife into having one

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟽𝟾𝟷 ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

The desert winds howled against the walls of their quarters, a steady rhythm that had become background music to Y/N's life. She was seated at their low table, sorting through a collection of reports from the sietch leaders. Across from her, Paul Atreides lounged on a cushion, his chin resting in his hand as he stared at her. She glanced up, feeling his gaze. “What?”

“You’d look good with a baby in your arms,” Paul said, his tone casual, as though he were commenting on the weather.

Y/N froze mid-scroll, lifting an incredulous brow. “Excuse me?”

“A baby,” Paul repeated, his blue-within-blue eyes alight with something far too mischievous for her liking. “Our baby.”

She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Paul, we’re fighting off assassination attempts, managing alliances, and trying to ensure Arrakis doesn’t collapse into chaos. And you want to talk about babies?”

“Yes,” he said simply, sitting up straighter. “Think about it, Y/N. A child of ours—someone to carry on what we’re building. Someone who could bring joy to the sietch, and to us.”

“Joy?” she repeated, her tone dry. “More like sleepless nights and endless crying.”

Paul grinned, undeterred. “It’s not all like that. Imagine teaching them about the desert, watching them grow, seeing the world through their eyes.”

Y/N sighed, setting the reports aside. “You’re serious about this?”

“As serious as I’ve ever been,” Paul replied, leaning forward, his gaze locking with hers. “We’ve fought so hard, Y/N. We deserve to have something of our own, something that’s not tied to prophecy or politics.”

She studied him, trying to gauge if this was another one of his intense whims. But the way he spoke, the way his voice softened as he described their potential future—it was clear he’d been thinking about this for a while.

“Paul, our lives aren’t exactly stable,” she said gently. “Bringing a child into this... it’s a risk.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But everything we do is a risk. At least this one would be for us, not for the throne or the Fremen or anyone else.”

Y/N tilted her head, lips twitching into a small smile. “You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”

“Every day,” he confessed. “Especially when I see the children in the sietch. They remind me of what’s possible, even in the harshest conditions. We could give that to a child—love, guidance, and a future worth fighting for.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms. “You’re romanticizing it. Babies are hard work, Paul. And you’re not exactly known for having free time.”

“That’s why we’d do it together,” he countered, his voice filled with conviction. “I know it won’t be easy, but nothing in our lives is. That’s never stopped us before.”

Y/N was silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. She couldn’t deny the warmth spreading in her chest at the thought of a child—a little piece of her and Paul, growing and thriving amidst the chaos. But practicality had always been her guiding force.

“Let me think about it,” she said finally, her tone measured.

Paul’s face lit up, his grin wide and boyish. “That’s not a no.”

“No, it’s not,” she agreed, shaking her head at his enthusiasm.

Over the next few weeks, Paul didn’t let the subject drop. He found ways to weave it into their conversations, whether they were discussing strategy or simply sharing quiet moments together. He’d point out how Y/N’s nurturing nature would make her a wonderful mother or muse aloud about what their child might be like.

One evening, as they walked through the sietch, Paul stopped to watch a group of children playing in the sand. Y/N followed his gaze, her heart softening as she saw the way his expression shifted—hopeful, almost wistful.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” she asked, nudging him gently.

“Not a chance,” he replied, his voice warm. “But only because I know you’d be an amazing mother, Y/N. And because I can’t imagine anyone else I’d want to raise a family with.”

She sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse,” he teased.

That night, as they lay together under the dim glow of the desert moonlight, Y/N finally spoke the words she knew Paul had been waiting to hear.

“Fine,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. “Let’s do it. Let’s have a child.”

Paul’s arms tightened around her, his breath hitching in surprise. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she said, turning to meet his gaze. “But you’re changing diapers.”

He laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Deal.”

part two !!

Eerie similarities

The eerie similarities between Danny and Baba, and, Harry and Mama

[Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader]

word count: 779

warnings: fluff and a bit of humor

The Black-Potter living room was a study in contrasts. On one side, sprawled across the thick, emerald-green rug, Harry and Y/N lay on their backs, laughing breathlessly after what had been, according to them, an epic tickle war. On the other side of the room, Regulus sat on the couch, legs crossed, one arm draped casually over the backrest. Beside him, their six-year-old daughter, Danica "Danny" Potter-Black, mirrored his posture with unsettling accuracy.

Both father and daughter held books in their hands. Regulus was reading a dense, leather-bound tome about magical theory, his brows furrowed in concentration. Danny, meanwhile, had a picture book titled The Curious Cauldron Chronicles, but it wasn't the pictures she cared about. Her small finger traced the words on the page as she read quietly to herself, lips moving with every sentence.

"She's just like you," Y/N said from the floor, propping herself up on her elbows as she watched the pair. "Quiet, broody, and disturbingly good at everything."

Regulus glanced over the top of his book, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Disturbingly? I'm gifted, not disturbing."

"Baba," Danny said without looking up, "Mama's jealous that we're smarter."

Regulus chuckled. "That must be it."

Y/N gasped dramatically and flopped back onto the rug. "You hear that, Harry? Our broody geniuses think they're better than us."

Harry, sprawled beside her with his messy black hair sticking up in every direction, grinned mischievously. "Yeah, well, they probably can't do this." He scrambled to his feet and launched himself into a spontaneous, lopsided cartwheel.

Danny finally looked up from her book, unimpressed. "That's not hard," she said, setting her book aside and sliding off the couch. She attempted a cartwheel, landing with a heavy thud on her side. She scowled as her curls flopped into her eyes. "Okay," she muttered. "Maybe it is hard."

Y/N laughed and sat up. "It's okay, Danny-bug. We'll teach you."

"I don't need help," Danny mumbled, climbing to her feet and brushing herself off. "I just need practice."

"She's definitely yours," Y/N said, looking pointedly at Regulus.

"And Harry's yours," Regulus countered, tilting his head toward their son, who was now attempting to do jumping jacks while singing a made-up song about dragons.

"I'm like Mama!" Harry declared proudly, flopping down beside her again. "We're the fun ones."

Y/N ruffled his hair. "That's right, Hazzy. We cause the chaos while they sit around reading big boring books."

Danny crossed her arms, standing next to her father with an identical expression of disdain. "Books aren't boring," she huffed.

"Exactly," Regulus said, holding out a hand for a high five. Danny slapped his palm with the practiced precision of someone who'd done it many times before.

"See," Y/N whispered to Harry. "Broody, smart, and way too serious."

Harry giggled, but his eyes softened as he watched his sister sit back down beside their father. "I like it when Danny reads to me sometimes," he said quietly.

"Of course you do," Y/N said, kissing his temple. "She's your little sister. You're supposed to think she's cool sometimes. Just don't tell her that too often."

Harry nodded sagely. "Got it."

Across the room, Danny leaned into Regulus's side, her head resting against his arm as she picked up her book again. He angled the book slightly toward her, pointing out a tricky word when she hesitated.

Y/N smiled softly. "She's going to be just like you, you know."

Regulus glanced up. "Brilliant and devastatingly handsome?"

"I was going to say a stubborn know-it-all, but sure, let's go with that."

Danny, still absorbed in her book, gave a tiny smile at her parents' teasing. Harry, meanwhile, tugged on Y/N's hand. "Come on, Mama! Let's build a pillow fort!"

Y/N jumped to her feet with a conspiratorial grin. "Excellent idea, partner-in-crime."

As the energetic duo began dragging pillows and blankets from every corner of the room, Danny peeked over her book. "That blanket's mine," she said.

"Then come help us," Y/N said with a wink.

Danny hesitated. But when Regulus nudged her lightly, she stood and crossed the room, grabbing a pillow and placing it with calculated precision.

"We're going to have our hands full with these two," Y/N murmured as Regulus joined her on the couch.

Regulus draped an arm around her shoulders, watching Harry enthusiastically demonstrate the "proper" way to build a pillow fort while Danny corrected his measurements. "Yes," he agreed, pressing a kiss to Y/N's temple. "And I wouldn't change a thing."

Outside, the winter wind howled against the windows. Inside, the Black-Potter family remained warm, chaotic, and perfectly complete.

previous chapter <--> next chapter

Mom and Dad.

While Regulus is at work, Y/N brings Harry to his parents' grave.

[Regulus Black x Fem Potter!reader]

word count: 558 words.

warnings: Angst, mentions of death

note: This is the fourth chapter of my Potter-Black series but Regulus is hardly mentioned. This is because the chapter is focused on Harry, Y/N, Lily, and James.

-

The morning was crisp, the air carrying the scent of damp earth as Y/N wrapped Harry’s scarf snugly around his small frame. The autumn leaves crunched beneath their feet as they walked up the familiar path leading to the graveyard in Godric’s Hollow.

Regulus was at the Ministry, drowning in paperwork, leaving Y/N with the quiet decision to visit her brother alone—well, almost alone.

Harry, bundled up in his coat and mittens, clutched her hand tightly. “Mama,” he asked, his voice soft, “why are we here?”

Y/N knelt beside him, brushing a few stray leaves from his curls. “We’re visiting your parents, love.”

Harry’s brow furrowed slightly, his young mind trying to piece it together. “My real mummy and daddy?”

Y/N swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded. “Yes. Your Mama Lily and Daddy James.”

Harry’s grip on her hand tightened as he looked around. “But I never met them,” he whispered.

Y/N gave him a sad smile. “No, sweetheart. You were just a baby.” She cupped his cheek gently. “But they loved you so much.”

Hand in hand, they walked through the graveyard, past old, weathered headstones, until they reached the one she knew by heart.

Y/N let out a slow breath, kneeling before the headstone. Harry hesitated before mirroring her, his tiny fingers tracing the carved letters of their names.

“James Potter…” he murmured, then looked up at Y/N. “That’s my name too, right?”

She smiled softly. “Yes, love. Harry James Potter. Your daddy wanted you to have his name.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, then looked back at the grave. “Do you think he’d like me?” he asked hesitantly. “Daddy James?”

Y/N’s heart clenched, and she pulled him into a hug. “Oh, Harry,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “He would have adored you. You’re just like him—kind, brave, full of mischief.” She chuckled softly, stroking his messy black hair. “And you have your mama’s heart. So full of love.”

Harry’s little arms wrapped around her neck. “I wish I could meet them.”

Y/N closed her eyes against the sting of tears. “I know, sweetheart. Me too.”

For a long moment, they sat in silence, Y/N’s arms wrapped protectively around the little boy she had sworn to raise, to love, to keep safe.

After a while, Harry shifted in her embrace. “Do you think they can see me?”

Y/N let out a soft breath, glancing up at the sky. “I do,” she said firmly. “I think they watch over you every single day.”

Harry thought about that, then looked back at the grave. After a moment, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out.

A small, slightly battered toy stag.

His favorite.

Carefully, he placed it at the base of the headstone, patting it gently.

“You can have Prongsie,” he whispered. “I think you’d like him.”

Y/N had to bite her lip to keep herself from crying.

As the wind rustled through the trees, Harry turned back to her and asked, “Can we come back again?”

Y/N smiled, cupping his face. “Of course, love. As many times as you want.”

She took his hand once more, pressing one last kiss to the headstone before leading him away.

As they left, the autumn wind carried the sound of distant laughter, like a whisper of the past. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N swore she could feel her brother’s presence—warm, watching, proud.

-

previous chapter <- -> next chapter

Danny's turn

It's the start of Harry's fourth year and Danny is entering her first year.

[Regulus Black x Fem Potter! reader]

word count: 722

warnings: nothing lol

note: Three more chapters after this one

The summer before Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts was a whirlwind of excitement, nerves, and—as always—mischief in the Potter-Black household. But this year, the buzz wasn't just about the Triwizard Tournament. No, the bigger event—at least according to the family—was that Danica Potter-Black, their resident broody genius, was finally heading to Hogwarts.

"She’ll be in Slytherin," Regulus said one evening as the family sat around the fireplace. He leaned back in his chair, a book open on his lap. "Mark my words."

Harry, sprawled across the rug with Danny's legs resting on his back, snorted. "Yeah, sure, Baba. You said that about me too, remember?"

Regulus gave an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, well...you're James' child. No cunning bone in your body."

"Hey!" Harry protested as Y/N burst out laughing beside him.

"He's got a point, sweetheart," she teased. "You do tend to wear your heart on your sleeve."

"Unlike Danny here," Harry grumbled, tossing a pillow backward. It hit Danny squarely in the stomach, but she didn’t even flinch. The eleven-year-old had her nose buried in Advanced Magical Theory—a book meant for sixth-years.

"I’m still deciding," Danny said coolly, flipping a page without looking up. "Slytherin or Ravenclaw. They're both fine options."

Harry groaned dramatically. "You're such a little snob."

"And you're predictable," Danny shot back. "Hazzy, you practically begged to be in Gryffindor."

"I did not beg."

"Yes, you did," Regulus said with a smirk.

Y/N laughed harder. "You did, love. It's okay. We still adore you."

Harry dropped his head into his arms, groaning. "This family’s the worst."

Platform 9¾ was, as always, a chaotic mess of trunks, cats, owls, and frantic parents. Harry stood beside Danny, who was watching everything with her usual quiet intensity. She was dressed neatly in a crisp button-up and black jeans, her curls pulled back into a braid that Y/N had wrestled into submission that morning.

"See that kid over there?" Harry leaned toward her, nodding toward a nervous-looking boy holding a toad. "Neville Longbottom. Super nice. If you get lost, find him."

Danny arched an eyebrow. "You mean the boy who melted his own cauldron in first year?"

Harry winced. "He's improved."

Regulus crouched beside his daughter, adjusting the strap on her satchel. "Remember, starshine, you don’t have to decide who you are today. The Hat will know where you belong."

Danny nodded, though her lips pressed into a thin line.

Y/N kissed the top of her head. "And if you get nervous, remember that you know more spells than half the seventh-years."

Danny finally smiled. "Because Baba taught me illegally?"

"Technically, it was more of a loophole," Regulus muttered.

The train whistled, and Harry ruffled Danny's hair. "C’mon, Bug. Time to go."

As Harry led her toward the train, Danny suddenly stopped. She turned and ran back to her parents, wrapping her arms tightly around Regulus first, then Y/N.

"Love you," she whispered.

"We love you too," Y/N said, voice thick.

Regulus hugged her tightly, then cupped her cheek. "Go show them what a Black can do."

Danny gave a sharp nod and marched after Harry.

From the window, Harry waved at his parents as the train pulled away. Beside him, Danny stood on her tiptoes, her eyes already scanning the train for potential threats—or opportunities.

"First-year nerves?" Harry asked.

Danny smirked. "Please. I’ve been ready since I was six."

The Sorting Hat’s mouth opened wide as it sat atop Danica's head.

"Ahhh…interesting. Very interesting indeed. Ambitious…clever…calculating…but also…hmm…you love your family more than anything. Brave for them. Protective."

Danny gripped the edge of the stool. Not Gryffindor. Not Gryffindor.

"Not Gryffindor? Ah. Like your brother…though you wouldn't do terribly there either. You’ve got that same sharp mind your mother has…and your father’s…ah yes…his talent. So…where to put you…?

The entire hall seemed to hold its breath.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table erupted into cheers. Danny slid off the stool, her face calm but her heart racing. As she sat down beside a fourth-year named Gemma Farley, she sneaked a glance at the staff table.

Her mother gave her a wink.

Danny's lips twitched upward. She turned to the table of green and silver and thought, Yeah. This fits.

Meanwhile, Harry groaned across the hall at the Gryffindor table. "Baba’s never gonna let me live this down."

previous chapter <--> next chapter

Hello!! I’m going to start a short series and I need your guys help to pick!! 🧡😋

𝐋𝐄𝐄 - 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋

🌟 = Fluff, 🪐 = Angst, ✨ = mild spice, 🎬 = hurt/comfort

{𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝} → open ! || requests are usually open unless they get too much, then I will turn them off so that I could finish other requests ! ||

ONE-SHOTS:

Forever you 🎬🌟 - Lee is cursed with immortality, and he finds Y/N's reincarnation every time.

SERIES:

(not yet available)

BLURBS :

(not yet available)

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀

🌟 = Fluff, 🪐 = Angst, ✨ = mild spice, 🎬 = hurt/comfort

{{𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝} → open ! || requests are usually open unless they get too much, then I will turn them off so that I could finish other requests ! ||

ONE-SHOTS :

A candy-coated boop 🌟

A bit of love and chocolate 🌟

SERIES:

(not yet available)

BLURBS:

(not yet available)

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET as Bob Dylan A Complete Unknown · 2024

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Would you be willing to write Regulus x reader who struggles with anorexia, where she's having a tough day and he helps them eat.

Don't if you're not comfortable tho

A taste of comfort

Y/N struggles with anorexia, and on a tough day, Regulus offers his quiet yet unwavering support, reminding her she’s not alone.

requested by anonymous

Regulus Black x female anorexic! reader

word count: 687

warnings: mentions of anorexia problems

masterlist, Regulus masterlist

Y/N could feel the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders as she sat curled up on the windowsill, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the glass, casting golden hues across the room, but she hardly noticed. Her mind was consumed by the gnawing ache in her stomach, the relentless voice whispering cruel things in the back of her mind.

She had managed to avoid eating all day. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. She had promised Regulus she was trying. She wanted to try. But today, the self-doubt had crept in like a storm cloud, and suddenly, the idea of food felt unbearable again.

Her struggles with anorexia had begun years ago, slowly and insidiously. What had started as a desire for control in a chaotic world had spiraled into something far darker. It had taken root in her thoughts, dictating her every decision. Every bite felt like a battle, every meal a war she was losing. She had pushed people away, convinced that nobody could understand the suffocating fear that came with eating.

And then, she had met Regulus.

They had crossed paths in the most unexpected way—a chance encounter in the Hogwarts library. She had been tucked away in a quiet corner, poring over a book she wasn’t really reading, when he had sat down across from her. At first, she had been wary. He had a reputation, a certain air of cold detachment that made people keep their distance. But there was something about the way he looked at her, something unspoken but deeply understanding.

Slowly, he had become a presence in her life. He never pried, never forced her to talk, but he had a way of making her feel seen. With him, she didn’t have to pretend to be okay. And somehow, despite the walls she had built, he had slipped through the cracks, offering her the quiet support she hadn’t realized she needed.

The door creaked open, and soft footsteps padded across the floor. She didn’t have to look up to know it was him.

“Y/N?” Regulus’ voice was gentle, but there was an edge of concern to it. He crouched down beside her, resting a hand lightly on her arm. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

She hesitated, then sighed. “I just… I needed to be alone.”

Regulus exhaled quietly, his thumb tracing soothing circles over her skin. He didn’t push. He never did. But she knew he saw right through her, past the carefully constructed walls and the forced half-smiles.

After a few moments of silence, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped piece of chocolate. He placed it in her palm without a word.

Y/N stared at it, her fingers curling around the wrapper. “Regulus, I can’t—”

“You can.” His voice was firm but kind. “I know it’s hard. But you need to eat something. Just a little.”

Tears burned at the back of her eyes. The idea of eating—even something as small as this—felt impossible. But then she looked at him, at the quiet determination in his grey eyes, the way his fingers curled around hers, grounding her. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t frustrated. He was just here.

With a shaky breath, she unwrapped the chocolate and broke off a tiny piece, placing it hesitantly in her mouth. The sweetness melted against her tongue, and though the guilt threatened to crash over her like a wave, Regulus was there, steady and unwavering.

“There you go,” he murmured. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m proud of you.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and he caught it with his thumb, pulling her into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder, his scent—familiar and warm—offering a comfort she hadn’t realized she needed so desperately.

“I don’t want to feel like this forever,” she admitted in a whisper.

Regulus tightened his hold on her, his lips pressing a soft kiss against her temple. “You won’t,” he promised. 

“I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

My biggest strength is my biggest curse.

Imagination.

For the rest of my life it will plague me.

Writing stories of passion and romance that will never be real.

Never can be real.

I spin tales of love and in doing so I doom myself for thinking I could ever be the lucky character in my own story.