#like he’s trying to chase after his memories of his dad to try to understand him after he’s gone

[llumimoon]

Started thinking about the oak family again mood board

[harryslittlefreakk]

the pact

summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time

warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)

wordcount: 6k

a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!

my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼

From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.

But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.

Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.

Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.

Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”

“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,

‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’

“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.

“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.

“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.

She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.

Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.

You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.

—

With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.

“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.

“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.

“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”

You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”

The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”

“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”

“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”

Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.

It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.

Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.

“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.

The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.

“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.

The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.

You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.

For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.

“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.

“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.

“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.

Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.

He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.

His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.

He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.

Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.

He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.

Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.

Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”

“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”

He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.

—

“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”

“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”

You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.

You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.

—

You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”

You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.

“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”

part two

taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein

[thenickgirl]

DAD!Nick HeadCanons

nick x male!reader

disclaimer: this is all fictional and based on my own conclusions.

warnings: all fluff

a/n: alright so, reader x nick are married in this, and you have a little girl through surrogacy.

Nick as a dad:

♀ all throughout his youtube career he’s made it plain that he’s not too keen on children, but now that he’s older and once he falls in love with you, his feelings change. you decide to start a family and when it comes to your daughter Aliyah Jade, he’s absolutely obsessed.

♀ the day Aliyah was born was the best day of his life. after seeing her for the first time you both knew there was nothing you could love more.

♀ his heart absolutely melted the first time she wrapped her tiny hand around his finger.

♀ he happily takes on the role of a ‘stay at home’ dad. he quickly finds a balance between taking care of your daughter and the household.

♀ the first few months of her life were hard on, the sleepless nights trying to keep up with her feeding schedule, the never ending laundry, and bottle cleaning easily wore you both out.

♀ he is very (but not overly) protective of Aliyah. he’s cautious about who holds her or watches her.

♀ Aliyah is so spoiled by the both of you, but especially nick. he’s constantly coming home with something for her:

“i know i knowww, but i saw this and i couldn’t help myself. c’mon it’s so cute, look it!”

♀ he’s capturing all of her milestones. from her first crawl to her first steps to her first words, he’s got it all on film. he loves having those memories of the three of you as a family to look back on.

♀ he straight up talks to her like she’s grown. he doesn’t believe in the baby talk whatsoever, and Aliyah just smiles at him when he does.

♀ he’ll give her a cute nickname like ‘bunny’ or ‘pumpkin’

♀ he handles her ‘terrible twos’ like a pro. he’s taught her how to communicate and use her words. on occasion whenever she does throw a tantrum, he throws one right along with her, causing her to stop and look at him so confused:

“babe, did you seriously just throw a tantrum WHILE she throws a tantrum?”

“yep, works every time!”

♀ Aliyah’s preschool years are his favorite. he loves playing with her and chasing her around the house. he loves having her with him while he run errands, she’s his little lunch date and his partner in crime. he’s always down to dress up and play princesses or have a tea party.

“daddy can we pway pwincesses pweeeeease?”

“absolutely honey, come on”

♀ sometimes he’ll hear Aliyah slip and call or refer to him as ‘mommy’ and he just blushes like crazy.

♀ he’ll let her play in kids make up and give him a little makeover. he’s giggling the whole time, thinking about how crazy he’s about to look at the end of this.

“you look so pwetty daddy!! look it!”

“oh girl you ate! i love it so much thank you, pumpkin”

“let’s go show daddy how pwetty you are”

♀ he first trip to the dentist is stressful mainly because he also hates the dentist, but he keeps his composure for her. he’ll sit and hold her tiny hand through it all, giving her encouraging words to keep her calm. Aliyah gets through it like a champ!

♀ he loves taking her along to the nail salon, letting her get a kid’s mani and pedi. he just loves seeing the smile and excitement on her face.

“daddy, can i get lellow on my nails?”

“you sure can, bunny, whatever you want”

“daddy, you get lellow too like me!”

“okay”

♀ when it comes to discipline he hates it. he doesn’t like having to be stern or the ‘mean parent,’ it makes him feel awful. he always does it with love and never ever yells. he makes sure she understands what she did and why it was wrong. luckily, Aliyah is a pretty good kid, so he doesn’t have to discipline her often.

♀ when Aliyah starts school, he’s an absolute mess because he’s losing his little partner in crime. he’ll make her favorite breakfast and he’ll be so emotional the whole morning while he’s getting her dressed and doing her hair. once you all get to school and to her classroom he’s hugging her so tight, not wanting to let go.

♀ if Aliyah ever came home and said that there were other children bullying her Nick would lose it. he’d go up to the school and go off on the principal because why the fuck are they allowing this to happen!!

♀ he’s front row at every dance recital, soccer game, and cheer competition. he’s bringing the biggest bouquet of flowers and cheering, telling everyone around him about his baby girl.

“yesss you got this, bunny!”

“that’s my little girl right there in the yellow!”

♀ he throws her the biggest and best birthday parties. there’s always a fun theme, and every year he does a photoshoot for her. there’s endless amounts of food, sweets, and games/activities to play. he’s the best host for her birthday parties.

♀ if Aliyah ever has nightmares, he running t cuddle up next to her, holding her tight and telling her there’s nothing to afraid of, that he’d never let anyone anything hurt her. he’ll hum a little song and rock her back to sleep, not leaving her side.

♀ he loves planning vacations for your family, the three of you are always on the road when time allows it. he wants Aliyah to be able to see the world, show her there’s more out there than their quiet little hometown.

♀ once Aliyah hits her teenage years he becomes her safe space. he always makes sure that she feels comfortable enough to talk to him about whatever. he never judges and and lets her know that there’s nothing she can say or do that would make him not love her.

♀ he tries his best to help her with homework, but most of the times he’s just googling the answers.

♀ he believes in freedom of speech so if Aliyah starts swearing during her teen years, he wouldn’t care. his only rule would be that she only does it at home, and not at school in front of teachers or in front of other adults.

♀ he’s the parent that all the kids love. Aliyah’s friends love coming over to her house because Nick is such a fun and understanding dad.

♀once it’s time for Aliyah to start driving, he’s panicking. he lets you teach her because the whole process just stresses him out. the thought of his baby girl driving makes him sad but he’s also relieved that he doesn’t have to keep driving her around everywhere.

♀ when she’s out with friends, he’s got her on life 360 and he’s checking her location all the time.

“aliyah jade! go charge that phone right now, it’s on 18%!!”

“dadddd okay i will!”

♀ he’s there through all of her relationships and heartbreaks. he’ll hold her and wipe away her tears, letting her know that he’s there for her, cause he knows how earth shattering teenage love can be.

♀ on graduation day, nick is filled with joy, pride and sadness because his baby girl is going off to college. her childhood memories run through his mind all day, not wanting to believe that she’s grown up so fast right before his eyes. Aliyah graduates with honors at the top of her class, and Nick is grinning ear to ear, camera in hand, as she gives her speech, but his breath hitches at the end when he hears her say his name:

“and last but certainly not least, i’d like to thank my parents, nick and y/n. i wouldn’t be here without you. it was your unconditional love and guidance that shaped me into who i am today. i’m going to continue spending every day from here on out making you proud. i love you, dads!”

♀ nick is such a wonderful, fun, and loving father.

Bonus UNCLE!Nick:

➳ he loves having all the kids over for the weekend, sleepovers at uncle nick’s are always elite.

➳ he’s the fun uncle for sure, he basically lets the kids do whatever (within reason) when their with him.

➳ he always has the best snacks and makes sure to have all the kids favorite toys.

➳ he lets them know that he’s there for them, they love coming to have talks with him about things they’re afraid to tell their parents because he makes them feel so safe.

➳ during family trips, all the kids want to ride in the car with him cause he’s gonna play the music they like and sing along with him (even though he barely knows the words or who’s even singing).

➳ he loves taking photos of all the cousins together at every family gathering, knowing they’ll want to look back on it later and see how much everyone has grown.

➳ he’s there at all the recitals and sporting events, he never misses any big moment in his nieces or nephews lives.

🏷️: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @guccifrog @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @matty-bear @mybelovednick @imsosillygoofylol @sturniolossss @nickgetsmewetter @moonk1ss3d @certifiednatelover @ghostking4m @meg-sturniolo

[honey-minded-hivemind]

For the Hulk vs. Wolverine/Wolverine and the X-Men platonic yandere au, imagine a Reader who was either being spied on by Weapon X, or who somehow just kept following them from time to time, maybe foiling their plans (and trying to keep the poor traumatized *ssholes alive)... H*ck, maybe Reader was someone who was a potential candidate for the program...

Reader just ends up stuck with them somehow, keeps stopping them from dying or being killed off, and is at first hated or seen as weak... Except Reader still does them solids and favors without asking for anything in return or expecting anything, which leads to the growth of some... softer... feelings of the mutants for once. Because that little idiot who keeps being nice, even if they're hurt for it, is THEIR sweet little idiot or friend or pup or whatever. So they obviously should be allowed to stay...

It comes to a head when Reader actually tries to leave, be it move on to other things or somehwefe new, or abandon the group if they were part of the program, leading to mixed emotions and reactions...

🧡🦡Logan would want Reader to leave, h*ck, he's probably setting something up so they can leave amd slip away without anyone catching them. If he can, he'd leave with them... This helps activate his dad instincts, and whether he remembers this or not, he does remember Reader's scent, and that he sees them as someone to protect...

🦁🦷Sabretooth hates the idea of Reader leaving, having a soft spot for them and Logan, but would rather have them with him, make them stronger, get them to stay and not even think of leaving the program him! Would hunt them down and try try force them to stay, would even make them forget certai things if he could.

🎭💙Mystique, if she was still there at that point in time, would realize she wants Reader someone safe, where they can have a life, be innocent or at least free, and tries to help them, even if it's only in small ways. Would toss someone off a cliff for getting in Reader's way of escaping (so, the majority of everyone-)

❤🐼Deadpool would find the idea funny. Leave them? After everything? Quite the kidder, eh, kiddo? Well... that joke wasn't very funny, was it? He's against it, but treats it like a game. He won't stop Reader from trying... but he will chase them and give them a hard time, eventually dragging them back, because, look, hey, they're his buddy~! And buddies don't leave buddies behind! Reader put so much effort into them already, so why give in now?

⚡💛Maverick, if he is there at that point in time, wants what he thinks is best for Reader (his small memories/dad instincts popping up). He thinks they're safe wherever he is, so if he's with Weapon X, then Reader will join them, no matter how much of a tantrum them throw. He understands it's not... soft, being what they are or doing what they do, but he can keep them safe. The rest of the mutants? The people they all hint for a living? They can't. So it's best Reader gives in and joins them and makes it easier on themself, or they'll have to use discipline, and no one wants that...

🔪🗡Lady Deathstrike is probably fond of Reader, especially if they were kind to her or said she was beautiful or right about something. She doesn't care much if they stay or if they go, but she wants to know where they are, who they're with, and wants updates on everything they do. She's controlling, wanting a perfect version of them...

🩸🐙Omega Red would probably not care much either way. If he's soft for Reader, they were likely treating him like a person, someone who bleeds and can hurt and who needs care. Would agree Reader should stay with them, but wouldn't want to break them too much... If he thought they'd be killed, I will say he would let them go. Whatever chance guarantees their survival is what he chooses in the end...

🦡💛 If Laura/X-23 is around (depends on when this takes place), she'd be younger, so she views Reader as the closest she has to a sibling or friend. Wants them, because they're comforting and nice and sneak her treats, but doesn't understand yet that if they stayed or joined them, they'd be broken the way she and the others are... If Reader did leave, they left Laura a few gifts, mainly anything Reader had that Laura liked, so she'd have some form of comfort after Reader was gone...

No matter what, they're all somehow attached, whether they like it or not, and Reader attempting to leave them would likely crack the fragile peace they made... And if Reader did manage to escape... they're going to have to watch their back for a very long time...

(Imagine this if you want for X-Men Evolution! I'm just trying out this other X-Mem series and seeing if I like it! Enjoy this honey fresh from the comb!💛🧡🐝🍯🧪)

[mayhemories]

reader x Neteyam not established (or Lo’ak) where reader jokes about finding Jake hot and Neteyam changes his hair to look more like his father 🤪 they goofy enough to take it too literally for REAL

Like Father, Like Son

Ok so, I know this was probs supposed to be goofy, funny, ha-ha (would've been goofy, funny ha-ha if it was Lo'ak vers.) but I can't write Neteyam without it being sweet bc he's just a sweet boy!! Hope this is still okay for you Nonnie <3 Also! I wrote this in the airport waiting for my flight jet lagged af with 2 hours of sleep

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar) 

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: none, just fluff. Kinda cringe and spicy if you squint

Words: 2.2k

Author’s Notes: 

Neteyam is 21, reader is 21. Lo’ak and Kiri are roughly 20ish. I’m gonna estimate Tuk is 7 or 8?

Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!

Read Below the Cut:

“Hi kids!” Dr Max greeted you all, reaching for a fist pump with Lo’ak and Neteyam. Kiri made her ‘hello’s’ rather quick, as she rushed to Dr Augastine’s canister. Kiri found the time with her mother sacred, which you could understand. You often wished you had something physical of your own mother left, rather than just the Tree of Voices, but you knew Eywa had blessed the Na’vi in giving them that. And, you were happy for your best friend that she could watch her mother’s video logs. Although, sometimes you worried that Kiri would talk back to them, that she pretended to have a conversation with Grace with the same recordings. 

“Lo’ak, Neteyam, check it out, kids!” Norm said as he walked over to the three of you, a screen in his hand. “I’ve dug up some of Jake’s old footage and memories we extracted during the avatar program.”  Lo’ak snatched the screen from Norm’s tiny human hands. Flicking through the photos and videos of Toruk Macto, Olo’eyktan Jake Sully. Some of him in his old Sky Person skin, others in his avatar. Which you supposed is his body now. But he looked so very different, so young and carefree and if you were honest with yourself, pretty. Especially with his hair loose, small braids framing his face, and baby hairs resting around his forehead. 

“Oh, Dad was so sweet looking!” Kiri joked from behind the three of you, the new photos piqued her interest. Norm and Max shared a laugh. 

“Yep! Quite a looker! Had many a lady chasing after him.” Max joked with the kids, small chuckles rippled out of all of Jake’s kids. 

Lo’ak flipped the screen around, facing you, with a smirk he asked: “What do you think (y/n)? Think my dad is super hot?” You knew Lo’ak was only teasing you, only joking. But you could not help the violent, deep blush from rising to your face. Lo’ak laughed right in your face upon noticing it, making the whole thing so much worse for you. “Oh my god! You do!” He exclaimed.

You shook your head trying to divert attention, but the lack of your voice confirmed everyone’s suspicions. Kiri began poking you in the shoulder, “(y/n)! You can’t think of my dad like that!” 

“No, I don’t” You began the fruitless battle of denial. 

“Admit it! Admit it you find this photo of my dad hot!” Lo’ak nearly screamed, thrusting the screen closer to your face. All it did was make you blush more. 

It wasn’t that you found the photos of young Jake hot, per se. Obviously, he was, and still is an attractive male. There was no doubt about that. What had made you so obviously hot and bothered was the resemblance you saw in Neteyam. You always thought of Neteyam taking Neytiri’s features, and Lo’ak being more like Jake. But in this light, with this photo, Neteyam was as ripped, as sweet, and as attractive as this young photo of his father. More so. 

Thoughts of Neteyam made you hot and bothered on the regular, and this connection you had made in your head made it so much worse. 

“Well go on, (y/n), do you think my father was an attractive young man?” Neteyam asked, a slight smile but his teasing was not as cruel as his siblings. With a sigh of defeat and your head hung down, you would do anything Neteyam would tell you to. 

“Obviously I do.” You mumbled, covering your face in your slender hands in embarrassment, wishing you had not accompanied the Sully’s just this once.

The door to the lab flung open, little Tuk ran in, her braids bouncing as she did so, with a big smile the young girl cleaved the tension in the room in half. 

“Kiri! Kiri, Kiri, Kiri and (y/n)! Grandmother is looking for you two!” Tuk grabbed your’s and Kiri’s wrists, pulling you forward, “C’mon, hurry up! She said you guys are late for lessons.” You let Tuk drag you away from the conversation you wanted to wilt from, silently praising Eywa for her interruption. Kiri complained as usual. 

“Ugh, Tuk! Leave us alone!” 

Tuktirey did not leave either of you alone, instead marching you both to the T’sahik, like her little life depended on it. 

“Hey Norm,” Neteyam started as the two boys got up to leave the lab. “Can I take that tablet, with the photos of dad?” 

“Of course kiddo!” Norm said, handing the tablet to Neteyam, smiling as he did so. Norm often felt so lucky to have Jake, like a brother. And in turn, be an uncle to his beautiful kids. 

“C’mon bro, you’re so slow!” Lo’ak nagged on the walk back to the Sully residence. Neteyam walked slowly, which was unlike him. As he flicked through the young photos of his father. He would’ve been not all that much older than Neteyam in these photos. Neteyam felt himself get all hot and cold on the inside, like the acid in his stomach began to burn him. Neteyam was always jealous of Lo’ak for inheriting more of their father’s features. Neteyam knew he looked more like his mother. He also knew that Neytiri was extremely beautiful, as well as strong. And, he certainly did not think he was ugly. But he couldn’t help but wish he looked more like Jake. 

Especially now, knowing that you found these photos of his father…hot. Neteyam wanted to pluck his own eyes out and force them into his ears. He was already insecure when it came to you. He wanted nothing more than to be your lover, your mate, and the father of your children. He just never had the courage to really broach the topic with you. 

“Neteyam, what is wrong my beautiful baby boy?” Neytiri asked, running a hand over his head to cup his cheek. Since returning home from the lab this afternoon, Neteyam’s air was wrong, he was hurting.

“Mother, can you do my hair?” Neteyam asked, looking up at her through his eyelashes. He always did that, Neytiri mused. Since he was a baby, he would only ever ask for things looking up through his lashes. And how could she ever say no? 

“My Neteyam, your hair is already braided, it is already done.” Neytiri decided to push the topic further, there was no way Neteyam was this distressed over such a trivial thing. He has never cared what his hair looked like before. 

“No, not like this mother.” Neteyam reached out for a tablet laying beside him on the floor, firing it up he swiped until he found the young photo of Jake. “Like this.” 

Neytiri smiled, softly. She remembered taking that photo all those years ago. Jake had just taught her how to use the camera. She hated it, she hated most things the Sky People bought here. But she liked the camera, it allowed her to capture all of her loved ones forever. 

“Okay.” 

Neytiri set to work unbraiding her eldest son’s hair. 

“Anyway, so I definitely saw him talk to her, but I don’t think it was like that. He’s just not game enough.” Kiri was ranting about Neteyam, as the two of you worked grinding herbs into paste, and packing that paste into leaves to save them from spoiling. More specifically, Kiri ranted about how you and Neteyam haven’t gotten together yet, which you constantly had to remind her, will never happen. 

“Kiri, he is allowed to talk to whoever he pleases, whenever he pleases, however he pleases.” You said with a huff. 

“I’m just saying that if the two of you stopped pussyfooting around-” 

“Enough,” Mo’at said, entering the tent. Your stomach dropped as the T’sahik walked past, watching over the work you and Kiri had done. Kiri did not have the same fear of Mo’at as you did, you supposed that was granddaughter privilege. “And, I agree with my granddaughter, (y/n). You would make the perfect T’sahik to Neteyam’s Olo’eyktan.” Mo’at’s words made you blush. But also sweat. Sweat to the point you wanted to vomit to feel some kind of relief. 

This family, you swear to Eywa, will be the death of you.

“Grandmother, I have a question regarding the ceremony-” Neteyam walked in, bow across his shoulders, full warrior dress had been donned. You think Neteyam smiled at you, though you’re not sure, you think he said hello to Kiri and Tuk and the other healers in the tent but you did not hear him. 

You could not. 

Not when he looked like that. 

Neteyam’s hair had been redone, mirroring the photo of Jake you saw a few hours prior. Albeit a little longer than Jake’s had been, but the same style nonetheless. He looked beautiful, he looked just like Jake, but with the finesse of Neytiri’s finer features. 

You were speechless. 

That was not your Neteyam. What had he done with all of his gorgeous braids? One of your favourite things about Neteyam was how his braids swayed when he was angry, or how the beads clinked together when he was laughing. And, that they were Neteyam’s. 

“Your hair…” You stuttered, embarrassed that anything had come out of your mouth at all. Especially in front of Mo’at. 

Neteyam bit his lip nervously, one of his hands finding the back of his neck in anticipation. 

“Do you like it?” Neteyam knew the blood was pooling in his cheeks, causing a lilac tint to run across his nose and ears. 

“Oh, yes. Yes! I do like it, of course!” You said, falling all over your words. His evident blush making your blush more prominent. With all the people in the room, Neteyam had to fucking ask you with all these people in the room! What was he, insane? “But..but do you like it, Neteyam?” Now that you started, you could not stop, all the people in the room faded out of your mind. It was only you and Neteyam. 

“I, uh think it is different and makes me look more like my father,” Neteyam replied, sheepishly. He did not like the hairstyle all that much, but Neteyam knew his fatal flaw was wanting to be as close to Jake as he could. You hummed in agreement, it did make him look like his father.

“I like it better when you look like you, Neteyam.” Your pale eyes caught his bold ones, and you hoped and prayed that he could understand everything you did not say. You broke the eye contact, feeling as if he would undress you with his stare. But with confidence, you pushed through and said: 

“You are much more handsome than your father, Neteyam.” 

The smile that threatened to split Neteyam’s face in half was worth the anxious butterflies that had erupted in your stomach. You came crashing back down from your adrenaline high, and you noticed Mo’at had cleared the room out. It was just the two of you. 

“Thank you, my (y/n). That means a lot considering your flustered state earlier.” He teased you, and you let him. Poking your tongue out as Tuk taught you, as Neteyam made his way over to where you were sitting. He sat closer than what was friendly, but left a whisper of a space between you. Thighs almost touching. Your tail betrayed you, swaying back and forth anxiously.

“Can I tell you a secret, Neteyam?” You whispered as you tried to busy your hands with the mortar and pestle. 

“I would want nothing more.” Neteyam whispered back, trying to catch your eye. 

“I was so embarrassed earlier because I realised how much Jake looks like you. Or, I guess, how much you look like Jake.” You had the tendency to edit your stream of consciousness thoughts when you were nervous. Neteyam chuckled lightly, if it was not for his proximity you would have missed it. And, you decided in that moment, you never wanted to miss it. “I was embarrassed to finally be caught having those thoughts about you, Neteyam.” 

Neteyam felt as if he had been stuck by lightning, all of his blood fried by it, and confidence laid in his veins, instead. “Ugh, fuck it.” Neteyam cursed. He turned quickly, picking you up with ease and setting you down on his lap, your thighs straddling him. Naturally your hands found the hair at the nape of his neck, your thumbs moving to rub circles, massaging his tense jaw. Neteyam rested his forehead on yours, eye to eye, nose to nose. You giggled and the sound inflated Neteyam like no other. 

“Be my T’sahik. My grandmother is right.” Neteyam spoke softly, but it was deep, serious. No joke or trick to even be considered in the spaces between his words.

“I would want nothing more, my Olo’eyktan.” You sealed your promise with a searing kiss, you felt Neteyam’s whole body tense underneath you, as he tried to deepen it. You pulled away, desperate for air. 

“Will you fix my hair?” He asked softly. Despite what the two of you had just done, the position you were in, he felt bashful. No one except his mother has ever touched his hair. 

“Of course, my Neteyam.”

[i-cant-sing]

Dad Toji:

True, it's just toddler you and him enjoying a pizza on your couch while watching yet another Disney movie as you tell him about how you broke one urn after the other at the Zenin house because you thought they were cookie jars until one of the servants shrieked and started crying as they begged you to go to your room.

Toji nodded, before giving you another slice of pizza. "That's good. And then Naoya dropped you off here?"

You shook your head. "No. I was gonna go to sleep but then Uncle Naoya's mom showed me pictures of you and I missed you so I walked here!" You said before taking a bite of your pizza, swinging your legs back and forth off the couch.

Toji internally awed at your little confession until-

"Wait. Y/n- you walked here? WALKED?" He asked concerned. Toji is shocked because his house isnt anywhere near the Zenin house. His house is in the center of the city, while Naoya lives in the mountains away from all the noise. So you walked for miles, trekked down those high hills all alone?! "You didn't inform anyone you were coming here?"

You slurped your soda from the hello kitty cup. "Nope! Missed you too much. And if I did, stupid uncle Naoya would've been all "NOOOO! You're too poor and dumb to understand how you need to live with me than Toji! He doesn't love you! He abandoned you! I'm your fathe- GUARDIAN! I know what's best for you! Stop trying to walk away-" He whines a lot."

"Well, I'm glad youre here. But maybe next time, itd be better if you could call me? Id come pick you up myself." Toji chuckled before ruffling your hair and you gave him a toothy grin.

"You're so cute. I love you, Y/n."

Yur eyes gleamed. "I love you too, dad!"

The sweet moment was interrupted by loud banging on the door.

"Y/N! OPEN THE DOOR! I KNOW YOURE IN THERE, YOU LITTLE BRAT!" Naoya yelled from outside.

You pouted but before you could go, Toji pulled you back and gave you his ipad and some hello kitty headphones. "I'll ask Naoya to let you stay the night, okay? You wear these and enjoy some music." Your face brightened as you began searching YouTube, Toji glad that he put it on kids mode so that you wouldn't ble to see his history of purchases on the black market.

As Naoya began banging his fists against the door like a mad man, Toji suddenly opened it and stepped out, closing the door behind him as Naoya gulped at the huge man who narrowed his eyes at him.

"T-Toji-"

"Naoya, what's this I'm hearing about you telling Y/n that I dont loved her? That i abandoned her? Because if memory serves me right, I remember you breaking into my house, killing her nanny and kidnapping my daughter while I was away." Toji grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. "You begged me to let her stay with you, didn't you? And I told you that she can stay with you as long as you keep her safe and I get to meet her whenever I want. And so far, you've failed at both. She left the house, walked for miles here, all alone and god knows what could've happened to her. And then she tells me that you've been stopping her from meeting me? Hm? Do you want a fucking beating, Naoya?"

Baby shark blasted loud enough through your headphones for you to hear Naoya's shrill screams as Toji chased him with new cursed weapons he bought online that he'd wanted to test.

What better time than now?

[bloodyinkandquill]

Zuka x Reader who served with him

yippee, i’m thinking about sharks i love sharks so much they’re so cute, anyways, also on tumblr i made his color blue since he used to be blue before dying his horns if anyone’s curious

- There was no room for love on the battlefield, you loved your fellow soldier but love would only interfere, you’re fighting in a war, and your comrade is the best soldier Blackrock has ever seen, maybe once this war is all over you could have room for love

- Years later while out doing things, maybe running by a store or something you hear a familiar voice and when you look you see something very unexpected, a soldier you fought with all those years ago, the one you had found yourself falling for

- Zuka noticed you too, his brother (gender neutral) in arms, so you approached each other and began to converse, catch up on the years and years you two haven’t seen each other, you exchange numbers and begin hanging out, on one such hang out you let slip that while serving you had feelings for him, he reveals he also fell for you all those years ago, a spark of hope lights up in your chest as you ask how he’d react if you still felt that way all these year later, and he says he knows exactly how that would feel since he still is in love with you

- You really did not expect it but dating your crush from so long ago was a long forgotten dream you couldn’t believe came true, even if years later, he was so sweet, he had definitely calmed down more compared to his time being Blackrock’s best solider, but he was still the B. Zuka you once knew

- You guys remised on the good memories, sure it was war but you still had your squad mates and a good amount of funny stories, like an animal stealing someone’s ration right out of their hands before getting chased for two seconds before said person falls face first in the snow, you laughed and joked, being able to understand each other in a way most couldn’t, when you fight with someone you form a special bond

- However you did talk about the multitude of bad memories too, it was a war after all, a bloody deadly war, hell it left both of you with plenty scars, Zuka missing an arm and part of one of his horns being far more noticeable, but not all scars were physical, so many more were mental, the after effects of serving, especially in such a large war

- You two understood the horrible memories and side effects as you both knew it first hand, after getting together you both at least once had had an episode and needed the other one to snap you out of it and then comfort as they sobbed

- Out of everything that changed about Zuka the kid was the least expected, sure he was adopted but you back when you knew him as your fellow soldier never would have ever thought he’d ever raise a kid, let alone one with so much spunk, honestly you saw a lot of younger Zuka in the kid, maybe he saw himself in Rocket too, luckily he didn’t mind you, he knew his dad’s story, maybe not every intricate detail but he understood why you two had a special bond, he did still give you a very suspicious look when Zuka first revealed that you two were now seeing each other, but he’d warmed up to you more now and thought you were chill

- Back during the war you always wanted to try out his bazooka, it seemed so crazy but the things it was capable of enticed you, so so many years later one day you asked if you could fire it, just once, he laughed but said you could, it was exhilarating, watching the deadly rockets fly before landing in such a large explosion, you couldn’t help but be awestruck, Zuka gave you some pointers but for the most part just let you blow things up for a few minutes

- You guys smoke together, sure may not be the healthiest thing in the world but there’s definitely worse ways to cope with your trauma of combat, so smoking together wasn’t that big of a deal, you’d just watch the sunset as you stood by each other, sharing a feeling fewer and fewer people new as more people you fought with or against succumb to time

yippee did this while getting ready! so between getting my lunch prepared and getting dressed and junk, i love writing these requests so much you guys don’t even understand

[living-dead-girl7]

Bo with a girlfriend who has issues with her dad

more notes app stuff about bo and this is purely for self indulgent purposes as I am going through it

ALSO: definitely ooc Bo. I just want this man to soft and sweet to me

warnings: daddy issues ig, crying, soft bo, occ Bo, mentions of Bos trauma

FIRST OFF. I believe Bo would most likely fall for sometime younger than him. Maybe like 5-10 years. He wants someone younger to dote on him, and he also definitely loves the idea of an innocent lover

It’s also probably because he either likes the power or he wants to protect them, buts is probably a mixture of both. 

He wants to be heard and obeyed but also aches to cradle someone in his arms and tell them it’s going to be ok. (It heals the little boy that needed to hear the same. Maybe you should do the same to him. Kiss his scars, hold his face, kiss his cheeks, let you nose gently bump into his.) 

Speaking of holding is lover, if you were feeling down whether that be thoughts of what your someone said to you or the latter, he will press your body into his and softly whisper “Bo’s gotcha, don’t worry, it’s ok…” 

Bo understands what it feels like to be belittled for the simplest of things, especially from a parent, his heart aches thinking that you had to deal with the same even if it was much less than what he’s went though

You are his sweet girl, you didn’t deserve it. Deep down I think he believes that he deserved what happened to him. He thinks his fate was predetermined and the events just served to punish him for his future, like some power knew he would comment heinous crimes

But you? No. What sick person would even think about subjecting such a sweet thing like you to such vile things. 

His gut twists when he hears you crying and trying to tell him what’s wrong, when the words of your father leave your shaking form

It breaks is heart to see you turn back into the little girl that just wanted to be loved

As you are a blubbering mess at his feet , trying to hastily wipe the tears streaming down your face as all the memories come flooding back, Bo can’t help but scoop you up into his arms.

The material of his t shirt is soft against your cheek as he holds you close. The soft cotton grounding you to him, the warmth radiating for his chest allows you to melt into him.

His fists ball up the fabric of your shirt as he hears what your father said to you,

Bo can’t help but grit his teeth and bite his tongue and he holds you

His jaw locks involuntarily after every word you utter, he can’t bear to see you like this

He resorts to shushing you and gently rocking you back and forth, hoping it brings some comfort. Is the comfort for you or him? Nobody knows.

As you look up at him with tear stained and puffy cheeks he sucks breath, before softly saying, “I hope you know I can’t understand how you remain so beautiful while crying.” 

You laugh just a bit before he sees your eyes watering again. 

To try and combat the tears, he peppers kisses across your face, each kiss accompanied by a compliment and a soft declaration of his unwavering love for you 

Once the tears are gone for good, he gently forced your gaze to meet his, “Never think of what he said to you ever again, ok? I’m not asking, I’m telling you too. You will never see him again on my watch, and I will make sure if it. You belong here, where you are loved. Nowhere else.” His fingers keep their place under your chin as he tilts it even further to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s chaste, with no meaning behind it other than his unwavering love and devotion to you. He pulls back to breathe and he can feel your breath on his skin as you chase his lips down.

Finally, he feels a pang in his heart. Not from pain, rage, or even fear, but from his ever present want to keep you in his arms with your body pressed against his. 

He wants to keep you caged in his arms forever where no one can hurt you, and you’d let him. 

[wherevenusholdssomeofficespace]

It sort of irritates me when people act like Doof is such a great dad. When canon explicitly tells us the opposite.

I don't mean to say Doof doesn't care, he does. Very much so. But just caring doesn't make him a good dad. It just makes him a decent person. Vanessa loves him very much. But love isn't the only thing needed to be a good parent.

I see people cite the Mary McGuffin doll, and him spending years tracking it down as proof of him being a good dad. And it does tell us (and Vanessa) he cares, but it also tells us how out of touch he is with Vanessa's actual wants and needs. Vanessa is 16. She doesn't really want the doll anymore. The doll only has meaning to her because of the effort he put into it. Proof he has actually listened to something she was saying even if it was nearly 10 years ago. Doof has set the bar that low that Vanessa feels so attached to this one gift. In Vanessa's own words he is a substandard dad. She is biased, due to the way he embarasses her, but she's not wrong as often he can't even be bothered to actually listen to her.

He took her to Tokyo instead of Paris for his own interests. He tried to erase Vanessa's memory in order to make himself look better to her. He compared her (or rather Candace's) fashion sense to a clown. He set up a little girl's party when she was 16 and didn't even know she considered herself to be punk.

He tries, oh does he try. But without listening to Vanessa he can't actually do anything for her. His few successes are often facillitated by Perry who does. This lack of listening is at the center of the finale, where it almost causes him to lose her completely. When he finally listens he can finally start connecting with her, and not only that he realizes other things about the way he's been living. And this is something Vanessa, his 16 yr old daughter is telling him. Vanessa is being her dad's therapist and that's not necessarily fair to her.

And in Milo Murphy's Law when he moves in with the Murphys he continues to cross boundaries and not listen to people (particularly the household's teenage girl), acting in many ways more like an overgrown child than a parent himself. And in Vanessa's appearance she's still cleaning up after him and playing couple's therapist with him and Perry.

And don't even get me started on how Doof treats Norm, who recognizes Doof as his father only for Doof to constantly belittle him and refuse to treat him like a son. (Not unlike his own parents). Doof does seem to care for Norm, but that doesn't mean the other stuff he does doesn't exist.

This is especially egregious since PnF and MML have lots of great parents. Lawrence knows about and sometimes goes along with his boys shenanigans and often inspires them. He and Candace may not always be on the same page, but he makes and effort to include her, to try and spend time with her. In regards to Mary McGuffin, Lawrence may have not known Candace still cared about her doll, but he gave her more money than he made off of it to try and make it up to her when he realized that she did.

Martin is someone Milo admires, taught him how to deal with Murphy's Law, who left to give Milo his moment in Athledecamathalon and has otherwise offered his full support to Milo and dedicated time to spend with him. We see less of his interactions with Sara, but he's aparently the one who got her into Dr. Zone, and he understands Murphy's Law can be hard on her too and makes efforts to stay away from her when she needs space. He knows when to cheer his kids on and when to step back.

Dave Grant, Beppo Brown, Richard Chase and Roman Carter are all among the many father characters who seem to have a more healthy relationship with their kids than Doof. Not to mention the grandfathers. None of these parents are necessarily perfect but they are good parents.

I love Doof. He's a great character and a loving father. But he's not a great parent and that's part of what makes him a good character. Makes his interactions with his family fun. The functional dysfunction of it all. He's not simply a good or bad parent. But he's certainly not great.

[roe-and-memory]

Cal headcanons maybe??? :3333

ANON, WE’RE BEST FRIENDS NOW. THANK YOU

cal is my boy, my son, my shining star, my silly, and many more.. allow us to fucking ruin his life (the favourite character treatment, if you will)

i hope u enjoy these 💥🔥

- hes deaf! this is my favourite hc ever i came up with it myself. hes Deaf and uses hearing aids - this was caused by the crash his parents died in (as he was in the vehicle with them if it wasnt obvious)

- he was 13 when his parents died

- he grew up watching his uncle race. he was a STAPLE in the dinoco pit box and when he was 11 or 12 he was strips crew chief for a race (strip won it too)

- strip taught him how to drive in one of the fields at their house - he mowed a track around it with a tractor, made cal get in the drivers seat, and told him to just Drive. (he was taught using Lynda’s old derby car because as strip expected, the very traumatized 14 year old he put behind the wheel DID in fact crash into the corn stalks and strip had to chase after him and pull him out of the car)

- he is probably the most careful driver you will ever meet. its the trauma, dare i say, but the probability of him crashing is much less than the Other Two. bobby and lightning poke fun at him for being so careful behind the wheel because “he doesnt have fun”, and whenever he gets serious behind the wheel they both giggle and quietly make fun of him (its like when you turn on the light in the car and your dad yells at you, white knuckling the steering wheel staring straight ahead and u dont understand why its so serious)

- cal’s the oldest of the three as well, hes a little less than a year older than lightning, so they’d both be the same age for like a 4 month period, bobby is the youngest and gets relentlessly bullied for it.

- i dont think cal ever learnt extensive sign language after the accident. his aunt and uncle didnt know it, and they were cautious of the situation so they found ways to communicate that they could all understand - he only learnt it after meeting red, because he was curious, and it wasn’t that hard.. plus it was a bonus that he could say things to lmq and bobby that they didn’t understand

- hes the only member of the trio with a consistent brain cell. hes the Reason, but hes also silly as hell which puts him barely a brain cell level higher than his friends

- he doesnt trust other people driving him places, he will ALWAYS volunteer to drive

- cal has a lot of his old, early racing days/pre-racing days memories on one of those old, handheld film cameras. he records a lot of stuff on it when theyre all running around the infield being silly

- his silly ass is so socially awkward its AWFUL. hes great in front of cameras but as soon as someone normal asks him a question or starts a conversation hes like. erm. Um. sure? (it was not a yes or no question)

- adhd

- hearing issues also comes with auditory processing issues, he’ll ask someone to repeat themselves and then realize halfway through their repetition what they said and be like OH YEAH TOTALLY!

- after the accident he went through a phase of being Terrified that strip and lynda were trying to replace his parents. he acted out, he hated every minute of their care and affection for a while, and finally he couldnt handle Not telling them why he was acting the way he was. they were both forgiving of course, they told him they understood he was scared and this was all New and they would NEVER try to replace his parents. that Helped.

- cal is short for calamari, full name calamari weather's (roe)

- hes blonde! he and strip are both blonde - and people HAVE mistaken strip for his dad instead of his uncle, but in reality cal just looks a Lot like his mother (who was strips sister)

- adding onto above: cal being upset makes strip think of his Sister and it fucking tears him apart every time. that kid looks so much like his mother its awful.

- when he was finally old enough to drink, he won the race, got to hold the champagne bottle and pop it open but it was so horribly hot outside that he fainted while on top of the car in victory lane, fell off, shattered the champagne bottle and smelt like berries for almost a week because it WOULDNT GET OUT OF HIS HAIR. he scraped up his elbows and tore the back of his t-shirt but there was nothing worse than smelling like alcohol for six days.

- he has a baby face and its his worst enemy.

- when he was a kid and a teenager he was obsessed with picking up small animals he found in the forest behind strip and lyndas house, and hes GOOD AT IT TOO. he once brought in a whole opossum into the house shortly after the accident, totally out of it on pain medications, and told his aunt and uncle that he wanted to keep this cat he saved from the garbage can down the side of the house. they were more shocked he got outside? how did he even..?

- he also picked up a habit of eating random berries he found in the woods? hes regretted it on multiple occasions and lynda has continuously told him to stop, but what made him really stop was accidentally grabbing blueberries that just so happened to be surrounded by poison ivy. he had it up and down his arms and all over his hands for three weeks.

- boy loves bugs, every bug ever he could identify and pick up with no issue whatsoever

- he had a marine biology phase and still LOVES the aquarium

- escape artist essentially

THIS IS SO MANY thats enough for now.. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED i love him so much. i hope none of this comes off as me woobifying him because i will lose my mind 💀

[bengiyo]

Love in the Big City Part 2 Check In

I’ve been struggling to start this essay for a few days. I sent the discussion questions to Shan Sunday evening after reading all of part 2 the day before because I wanted some time to sit with it and spend the day interacting with other people and reckon with what stood out for me. Like with the last section, I remained worried about how isolated the narrator (who I will now refer to as “Young”) has been and was unsurprised to see that connected to his experience with his mom.

We read through some pretty heavy sequences in this section, including Young being hospitalized by his mother as a teen when she discovered him kissing a boy under a street lamp, only to have the doctors classify him as a victim of PTSD and requesting that his mother enter treatment instead. He felt like he could never understand Hyung, and noted that he seemed to only be a booty call. He reached his breaking point and almost killed Hyung. He spiraled and almost killed himself.

When reading stuff like this, I always have to back away emotionally from the narrator, because otherwise I feel like it’s easy for me to get lost in the spiral of their emotions, particularly because Young seems to have mostly repressed his feelings about these situations if not the memory of them. It’s a bit difficult for me to read Young because I understand a lot of what he feels, and I am lucky that I was able to build relationships with other queer people in my 20s and avoid the spiral he’s fallen into.

With Hyung, I think @doyou000me provided some useful context for the level of paranoia Hyung deals with, given the living history he’s part of. He remembers people being disappeared. Even though he may have been a leader in a small organization at one point, it’s clear that his progressive friends at the time had no concept of their own homophobia and how it might impact other people in their movement. Like Young noted, he and Hyung are just doing regular jobs now, and Hyung’s rude friends are living a wealthy existence. For Hyung, his homosexuality is a barrier within himself, and his need to intellectualize everything means he cannot come to terms with it as he views it as the result of some sort of external influence on his being. There was never any way for him and Young to be happy because he hates himself too much to be anything reliable to Young.

Something else that continues to linger with me about Young is that he’s aware of how visibly gay he is to people. It doesn’t always come across in his writing, but the dialogue he shares with others indicates that he gets suspected or clocked a lot, and often resents how people treat him as a result. It happened with the guys in college when he stood up for Jaehee, and it happens here with Hyung fighting with Young for being so obvious about it. Hyung may try to pass and stay closeted, and that’s never going to work when you’re only able to chase after guys who can’t pass.

Regarding his mom, I get the sense that the mom’s paranoia about the dad and her controlling nature have forever ruined Young’s ability to have a wide array of meaningful relationships in his life. It seems like he can only really have one. No other people in his life get much mention in either of the first two sections except for Jaehee, Hyung, and his mom. It’s hard to see Young recognize that he’s messed up and possessive and be unable to do anything about that. He ends up spinning his mother’s remaining  years caring for her and being jerked around by a closet case.

I’m struck by the audacity of Hyung in the end. He edited that man’s diary and then sent it back years later asking to meet up one last time. That’s absurd in the extreme, and yet I get it. Being right is all that man has. He has nothing else to offer. It’s such a sad existence. I am glad the two of them didn’t work out, and I worry so much about what I know is coming for Young since it seems that there’s a tendency to punish himself in so much of what he does.

[red-n-stuff]

Thunder Only Happens When it’s Rainin’

The morning after the interrogation, Darlin wakes from a dream reliving their past. Guilt ridden and aching though they are, Sam is always there right when they need him.

It was some time towards the end of May. They remembered the time so clearly because the school year was coming to a close. DAMN was closing into summer break and Graduation caps had been ordered. The fields of wildflowers up on the foothills were starting to go to seed. All except the late blooming yellow asters.

Those yellow asters stuck out vividly in their memory. The smell of them often followed them home. Crushed into the grain of their skin. The petals finding their way into the edges of their shoes only to fall out and scatter the floor with small reminders of him. To their keen nose, Quinn always sort of smelt like the asters. Like something tangy and tart. Not fully there unless you were looking for it.

Strange, that a fragrance-free flower held such a scent based memory for them. Though, truthfully, they weren’t sure if Quinn smelt like the flowers- or if the flowers just smelt like Quinn.

The day leading up to their time on the hill was a haze, they couldn’t remember if it was a weekend or a weekday, though in the end it didn’t really matter. The setting was the important part anyway. The sky was orange and growing purple around the edges. A warm summer evening, the sun finally gone enough to be safe. Quinn’s Mustang was parked at the bottom of the hill by the trail they climbed together. Quinn playfully shoving their shoulders, and Darlin trying to trip him as they raced. They sat were it was flat, shoulder to shoulder. Asters brushing at their legs.

They were sharing a cigarette. The last of what they had been able to nick from their mom, lit with the lighter Quinn said he had stolen from his dad some long, forgotten time ago.

There was an unspoken understanding between the two of them. Up here, looking out onto the distant city lights, the rest didn’t matter. Not the hurtful words, or their family falling to pieces. Up here, they were something Precious. Two best friends on a perfect day.

At some point, they leaned their head onto his shoulder. Both their fingers brushing as the second-to-last drag was passed over. Quinn’s shoulders rising on the inhale, cheeks filling with it followed by a slow exhale chased by smoke. Handing it back to them, where they left the butt between their lips to ruminate.

Self destructive habits always seemed less unhealthy with a friend, and wrapped in the last of the days light, even adverse things felt healing. Even looking back on it now, they struggled to find the warning. The stop sign. Any indication of what would happen the deeper they fell. They couldn’t stop their reactions to him- not even the way their heart leapt as Quinn reached between them to curl his hand around theirs’. Not even when he rotated his hand to clasp their fingers. Not even the fact that, deep down, they knew the meaning of the gestures were wildly off balance. They didn’t regret a second of it- and maybe that was what made the truth of it so hard to swallow.

They remembered the way Quinn looked at them. The feel of his thick hair as it brushed against their neck when they turned to look up at them. His eyes were mischievous. Sort of on just this side of hazy. They had an oily sheen that made him look…tired- but then again- that wasn’t something that ever really changed. At the time, seeing him on that hill was their favorite. He looked…at ease. Relaxed and in turn, that made it easier for them. He was still and calm, and that was enough.

They often wondered if maybe they’d smiled with too much truth at the time, and that’s what caused it. If they’d flashed some semblance of the carefully repressed longing they’d been concealing. If there was some fatal flaw they may have missed. Either way, they were sure the outcome would have been the same. The atmosphere was too strong. It didn’t really matter who leaned in first.

Quinn reached up unexpectedly, fingers deftly plucking the cigarette directly from their mouth in a bold gesture that took them slightly off guard. They couldn’t take their eyes off Quinn’s lips as he took the final drag- not even as the smoke escaped in whisps like a promise from the back of his teeth. Exhaled like a question. Eyes not leaving theirs’ for a moment.

They had frozen, but they hadn’t tensed. Their cheeks had darkened. Eyes unwavering as Quinn crushed the cigarette into the dirt and shoved the butt in his pocket of his jacket.

Without a scrap of forethought, they had suddenly reached over with their hand curling around Quinn’s nicotine-stained fingers. They had guided his palm to rest firmly in place against thier cheek. Holding him there as their gazes held. Quinn’s breathe caught audibly in his throat, but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t scramble back in a moment of panic. The dare to hope coiled around their bobbing throat like barbed wire. The chance at fulfilling that ever present something ache that had burrowed in their chest. It was there- right in front of them in the form of blinking eyes full of tension, and raw stress-bitten lips half parted in apprehension.

They leaned in before they could talk themself out of it. Under the internal assurance that they’d come too far to stop now, they pressed their lips chastely against Quinn’s. A soft brush, a question.

Quinns hand tightened where it held his in the dirt between them. They could feel the soft gasp of air after the single second of pressure.

They didn’t recall when they’d shut their eyes, but they held them tightly closed. Unwilling to face the potential negative consequences they may find when they opened them. However, instead of a firm slap, they instead received an answer. Quinn had shifted closer, their foreheads pressing together solidly.

There was something akin to a fatal moment of hesitance in the breath between them in that moment. Like the feeling of knowing what you’re doing is wrong but falling headfirst into it anyway.

Quinn kissed them soft and sweet and slow, and of course they were weak to it. They couldn’t stop the rush they felt, the sparks that crackled behind their eyelids. Couldn’t stop the way they drew Quinn closer.

Their lips met and parted in quick succession, lengthening with each fresh press that Eventually dissolved into an extended kiss. One that felt like their lips were magnetic, both pulled and pushed by the force of suppressed want, and, oh how badly did they want him. They wanted to gather him up by the scruff and kiss him again and again and again until they were drunk on it. They wanted to taste all the bittersweet honey of nicotine and brown sugar.

Quinn shifted to press in closer, and they happily fell back against the ground. Those sunny-faced asters bobbing around their head as their lips slowly began to part. Above them, Quinn offered a breathy laugh, tinged by his accent. Their eyes opened just long enough to see the full force of Quinn’s quirked smirk before he laid down, tucking his nose against their throat.

“Tell me precious….Have you ever been bitten by a vampire?”

The scene faded around them, and their fluttering eyes slowly peeled open to the light that filtered in through the honey colored curtains like water. It bathed the room in warmth and comfort. Beside them, Sam was still asleep. Back pressed against their own. They could feel him breathing steadily.

For a moment, they were still disoriented. Lost between their past and their present. They inhaled slowly and exhaled again quietly.

A dense ball of prickling dread solidified in their stomach. Guilt made their scalp prickle.

They smacked their lips- expecting the taste of iron and nickel that accompanied their nightmares, but instead found only dryness and the memory of the cheap cigarettes they’d long since given up. They held as still as they could, blinking slowly as the memory of his touch faded against their hands.

It was hard to believe that once- sometime far away, in another lifetime, they had looked at Quinn and seen a future.

“I can hear the gears whirrin from here Darlin’” Sam’s husky voice arose from behind them, startling them from their thoughts. Still damp with sleep, he rolled slowly to face them. Tucking his nose up into their shoulder blades. Pressing a long, slow kiss against the knobs of their spine as his hand brushed against their hip. A question for consent.

They exhaled slowly, pressing back into his hold to encourage the arm looping around them securely.

“Dreamin?” Their mate questioned, lightly rubbing his thumb against their hip bone. His voice was twinged with concern in that way that betrayed his worry. Like he was trying not to press the issue, but he couldn’t help but care.

They nodded, throat feeling too sticky to answer.

Sam made a low sound of acknowledgment, tightening his arm slightly around them as he shifted up to press a kiss or two across their shoulder. His lips a bit chapped and rough against the delicate skin. The bare skin of his chest pressed warm and flush against their bare back.

“Do ya needta talk about it?” He asked, this time voice a little softer.

After everything that had happened yesterday, they felt guilty needing more. Needing him to hold them tighter. Needing to confess everything Quinn hadn’t already spilled.

They thought it over for a few moments. Through all of this- confiding was still hard. Vulnerability was still hard. The fight against their first instinct to hide everything they felt. The fight to just be themselves in that present moment. Their exhaustion helped to soften them.

“It was a memory,” they murmured after a long moment of silence, glad they weren’t facing him to say this. “Of Quinn…of before…before everything went to shit.”

Sam squeezed their hip comfortingly. They took the quiet time to try to sort through the swell of emotions that came with the admission.

“I…it’s hard to believe we ever…worked.” They murmured, curling in tighter on themselves. “That I..that I ever..did what we did.”

They sighed, rolling over to press their nose into his chest. Scrubbing a hand over their face.

“It’s alright Darlin,” he soothed, likely for the hundredth time in the span that he’d known them. Eternally patient. “Thunder only happens when it’s rainin’ after all…seein’ him again, and him…” he drew in a slow, steadying breath. Darlin could smell the spark of anger he tried to quell. The sent like gunpowder. “And him doing what he did…there’s bound to be stress that’s reopenin’ old wounds.”

“Yeah..” they affirmed quietly, worrying their lip between their teeth for a moment. Guilt rising in their chest. It hadn’t been a bad dream though. The shame and embarrassment of it left a bitter taste- but the memory itself was something like fond. One of the few handfuls they had of Quinn just being normal. It felt wrong to have any fondness when it came to that man.

“Just feels wrong.”

They heard Sam restrain a sound. Not sure fully what it would have been, but sure it was frustration. Sam’s fingers reached to slide gently through their hair, petting them slowly. Massaging their scalp.

“It ain’t wrong to love, Darlin..” he whispered, “it ain’t your fault he did what he did…people like that only love you when they’re playin sick, twisted games.”

He gently kissed their forehead, and they slowly let their eyes droop closed.

“You just feel whatever you needta feel, and dream whatever ya need to dream.” He squeezed them tighter, “we’re gettin through this. Together. Come hell or high water.”

They released a shuddery exhale, overcome with their love for this man. For the gentleness he shared with them. The delicate touch to all their broken scars.

“I…I’m so thankful for you.” They murmured against his skin.

“And I’m thankful for you Darlin’” he squeezed their shoulders tenderly, “ain’t a hair on your head that I don’t count amongst my blessin’s.”

Their lip quivered, and they pressed their face as hard as they could against his collarbones to stifle the rise of tears. They wouldn’t cry again. They wouldn’t.

Sam’s hand slowly rubbed the middle of their back, pretending like he didn’t notice the way their breathing changed or the salt against his skin.

“Let’s just stay in bed.” He soothed, “go back to sleep…we’re not in a hurry. I’ve got you Darlin.”

They nodded weakly.

“I love you, Sammy.” They whispered through choking breaths.

“I love you too Darlin.”

[profoundbondfanfic]

☆ Horror Destiel fic rec group Sometimes you remember just how scary SPN used to be during the early seasons and you just want a feel of that chill running down your spine. Here’s a few Destiel fics that will have that effect on you.

--All fic links go to our tagged reviews--

A Different Kind of Monster by roadtonowhere (lastoryx) & xfancyfranzi [Explicit, 89k words]

Something in Bodie, California is luring truckers to their deaths and Dean’s on his way to take it out. It’s the first time Bobby’s given him a case and, with Sam at Stanford and his dad off chasing demons, he’s finally hunting monsters on his own. When an accidental encounter puts an as-of-yet-unknown monster in the passenger seat of his car, Dean decides to ice him, taking his dad’s old adage to heart: a monster is always a monster. Unfortunately, Dean can’t seem to figure out what kind of monster “Castiel” is and he certainly can’t shake him.

A Million Ways to Go by ChasingRabbits [Explicit, 91k words]

Castiel Novak is a preacher’s son living in a world of black and white. Pragmatic and dutiful, he doesn’t understand why anybody would want to make waves. Then the Winchesters move in down the street. Soon many of the skeletons in the Novak family’s closet are exposed, and as the family faces them, Castiel begins to understand that there are many ways to see the world and so many more ways to live than what he’s been told.

Between Love and Agony by Duckyboos [Explicit, 53k words]

Dean Winchester is in love. Like, bonafide heart eyes and deep sighs, hung-the-moon love. There’s just one problem: the lucky guy is his husband’s identical twin, Castiel. The two of them have been having a kinky affair for years, burrowing under each other’s skin and setting up camp. Which is why, after Castiel goes missing, Dean’s about ready to tear the world apart looking for him. When Castiel eventually returns to him, he’s been through literal hell, managing to drag himself out, bloody and raw, for Dean. Together, they discover a way to make Castiel whole again — though the price will be gruesome… and there will certainly be hell to pay.

et florum magica: (And the Magic of Flowers) by wiccanstiel [Explicit, 52k words]

There’s a large, leafless tree and a road, a hand on a gnarled cane, a stoutly man in a black suit, his face scratched out. When Castiel Novak moves to the small town of Fox Hollow, he’s looking for a fresh start. Only his past seems to be–quite literally–haunting him, and even through his best efforts of settling into his new life, there’s a darkness in the shadows that he can’t seem to shake. And after meeting an otherworldly being named Dean during what was supposed to be a simple walk through the forest, he’s left with more questions than answers. But like it’s residents, Fox Hollow has some well-kept secrets, and things quickly turn to life or death when one of those secrets finally steps from the shadows and into the light.

Half Empty by sinnabonka [Mature, 37k words]

Raging storm, boundless cornfield surging, churning, like an angry ocean crashing its waves over steep shores. Dean comes to in the passenger seat of his car with no memory of what could have possibly brought him to the oddly named bar on the outskirts of the small town in the middle of nowhere. Investigating what first looks like a regular, run-of-the-mill missing people case and trying to bring back memories he’s lost, Dean ends up discovering truth he’d rather remain hidden. Welcome to Half Empty, where nothing is as it seems, and even shadows have secrets of their own.

Number 1 Crush by Duckyboos [Explicit, 103k words]

Dean, Benny, Charlie, Garth, and Cas are old college buddies. In their thirties now, they meet up once a year to shed their adult responsibilities for a week. This year it’s Garth’s turn to choose where they go and he’s still as obsessed with horror and weird shit as he was back in college. He ends up picking a supposedly deserted hotel in the friggin’ mountains. The place is creepy as hell and as night falls, two things become increasingly apparent. One: the place isn’t as deserted as they first thought, and two: Dean’s college stalker is back from the dead.

Revelation 13 by fullvoid [Explicit, 43k words]

It’s Dean’s day off, and he’d like to spend it how he always does—by kicking his feet up with a cold one and watching soap operas—not by discovering an enormous, creepy hole in his bathroom wall that definitely wasn’t there when he went to bed last night. But it’s no big deal. He can just patch it up and still devote plenty of time to Dr. Sexy afterward. There is only one problem. He can’t leave his apartment, and there’s a message on his front door written in…is that blood? And why is it signed by someone named “Cas”? Things can only get better from here, right?

The Angels of Freetown by FriendofCarlotta [Explicit, 50k words]

Freetown is the sort of place where hardly anything ever happens — a picturesque, close-knit town in the foothills of the Appalachians. Professor Castiel Novak loves his job at the local university’s history department, and he loves his husband, Chief of Police Dean Winchester. Then, one night in September, all the leaves around town drop and an eerie fog descends. Before long, people begin to disappear. When Dean becomes the latest resident of Freetown to vanish, Castiel and an unlikely band of allies set out to bring him back and free the town from the things that roam the fog.

The Lover’s Song by FriendofCarlotta [Explicit, 48k words]

Running an independent bookstore in one of the less glamorous California towns doesn’t make you rich, but Dean Winchester’s life is pretty much perfect anyway. He’s got amazing friends, a whip-smart brother and a husband he loves more than anything: novelist Castiel Novak. Then one night, driving home from work, Dean accidentally runs over a cat. The cat’s grieving owner curses Dean: his beloved will lose all memory of him, and Dean has only a year and a day to bring the memories back. Of course, there’s no such thing as a curse. Is there?

[rivnedell]

Tolkien saved me

Just some thoughts I need to write down / Mental health issues mentioned

Not the usual tone of my blog but I just felt a urge to write, sorry

Parental death tw

I'm marked with parental alienation. I was 6 when my mom took us three, her, my sister and I far away to escape. She saved us. But I couldn't understand the bravery and the strength she needed to do that, taking us, a few clothes and driving as fast as she could while he was at work, 900km back to her parents and sisters. We lived a while with one of my aunts then my mom met step-dad. My Dad in heart actually. Fortunately it's a tremendously amazing and caring person, and he helped us to go through the hell.

I was asked to choose between my (bioligical) father and my mom, well my father asked me so. He manipulated me to choose him if I was asked by social workers who do I wanted to live with. He kept insulting my mom in front of me, degrading her, and mocking her when I was with him. Then I was menaced, insulted, degraded, violated, forced to feel guilty about about everything, being under massive and constant psychological control.

And I still feel like I betrayed my mom when I was 7.

The hell lasted until I was 17 and half. I stopped going at his, and I could finally breath, make my studies away and my life from him. In 2018, I was 21, I reconnected with him, I tried to put the negative aside, but it became impossible. It grew as 'it's him or me' and I chose myself, for survival again. It just lasted a year. And for 4 years before he died in nov 22 I could live far away from all of this, far from him, no contact and that felt like a relief.

In reality, I just put everything under the rug and locked it secured.

His death brought back everything, even stronger than it already was.

It felt weird, because I guess I still had a tiny hope that he would change at some point, and that I could someday, be ready to face him and to tell him how much he hurt me, how much he frightened me.

But that will never happen. And all the traumatic memories resurfaced like I was living them in my present. And it's hard. What do I do ? Put it under the rug again and try to survive like nothing ?

No, I don't feel I wanna do this anymore. I'm tired of struggling in the dark. I'm exhausted. Exhausted of being on a constant level of survival mode, while I don't need it.

-

All of this causes me to deal with CPTSD and its consequences. And it's tough to hang on.

I'm currently at a upper max level of procrastination where I am now feeling so numbed in and like a cocoon I am freaked out to leave. I'm freaked out to make actions, to make things happen.

Impostor syndrome, rejection fear, not feeling legit at anything in life, struggling with the simple will of existing. I do want not to stop existing, but I am afraid of fully existing, because of all the above wounds and fears.

But still, I'm avoiding life, while his death awaken in me the fear of not existing anymore.

Paradox.

And, almost, nothing is helping me hanging on, helping me wanting to bring myself back in life.

-

All my life I've been hanging tight on Tolkien's work and Peter Jackson's vision to abandon myself into this fantasy land that is Middle Earth, to escape reality. The reality at home that was made of mental insecurity, psychological violence, control and manipulation. In my childhood I used to imagine myself fighting with legolas with a bow and going home in Rivendell after chasing some orcs with Aragorn, meeting Gandalf and Galadriel occasionally. All those characters are so engraved in me and dear to my heart. All this imagination, this entire world, mythological world, and languages seized me when I was 5. And I never let go, and never will.

Middle Earth saved me and helped me wanting to stay alive in a time I was crushed by violence and psychological pressure and control.

-

But my child self is still rulling me, and I'm trrying to take my actual own conscious power back.

She (little me) used to be afraid, to be frightened, to be insulted, to be violated, to constantly be on survival mode. And she still is, rulling me according her methods for survival.

While.. I, the 26 woman I am now, does no longer need.

So it's a battle between me and me. Because I no longer need to protect myself from a menace that no longer exist, literally.

It's really hard to let go, I think it's the hardest thing I would have ever havr to do in my life. Just let it go and leave the past to the past.

-

I feel alone and lonely sometimes. Feeling like I would annoy everybody with my whining..

I'm just sharing this with hope that it could awake something in someone and.. Though I'm feeling alone, I don't want anyone to feel like I feel so, I'm saying this to you, you're not alone, we're together, we're fighting.

It's not you're fault.

And to be honest.. I'm not gonna lie, it feels good to write it down.

Thanks if you red til here ❤️

[davestrifer]

What’s tsboam I have no idea what that is (seriously I’m lost)

YESYEYSSYYEYSD THANK YOU SO MUCH ELL I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

so this is gonna contain spoilers if you actually wanna read the book while its gaining more lore 🥰heres the story - book

SO LIKE i wrote this so i understand every single thing i make references to and the ships and stuff 💔

so tsboam is short for the severed brain of alan mertz (very long name) i created it before new years when carnival (another story im writing) got remade and i needed to keep some characters in a different story (they’re still gonna show up in carnival because i love them)

takes place in 2003 very lovely!!

main character is terrance ‘alai’ khloe a 19 year old college student who is going through some entire thing trying to ignore the fact that everything is going to change because he can’t handle it (roar reference jaja) he is a closeted gay who is dating a guy named damien collins, he used to be a side character in carnival, being one REALLY NICE fallen angel with white hair who worked at a cotton candy stand, he has a twin sister named cassandra and a dad who ended up killing his mom named robert (who is also IN THE CLOSET) and his best friend is alan mertz !!

that does of course bring us to the topic of damien collins the FIRST EVER character i wrote about, his original name was supposed to be damien kotao but i have SHIT memory and i couldn’t remember that last name!! He is 20 years old, dropout of highschool, he has a mom with ptsd and hes a schizophrenic guy, he has no dad and dated shelly birch (ended up cheating on her with terrance) he is bisexual and GUESS WHAT he is the fucking villain WHOOHOO!!!!! he used to be the main character of carnival (a 16 year old brunette boy with both parents becomes a blond 20 yr old with a neglectful mom who he has to watch over so that she doesn’t die 😦😦)

got distracted sorry

anyways alan is terrances best friend aka the CONFLICT because throughout the whole story hes gonna fucking die (like kenny and sakura cardcaptor mixed together) so he goes missing in the first part after running away when he finds out terrance has been lying to him the whole entire time and is dating damien when they made a promise to never tell eachother lies and terrance swore he wouldn’t love damien like that since he hates damien (knowing everything he has done) and wanted to protect shelly BUT plot twist, he really was running away from another character i havent came up with, being chased in the forest by them while they rev up their chainsaw and murder him with it, clearing up the evidence and running as fast as they could, the first part where he comes in eventually is revealed to all be an illusion at the end and then there are all these scenarios where he dies and it all turns out to be one big illusion, he was dead the whole time and none of it happened, really a plan by damien to get rid of him permanently which resulted in terrance killing himself at the end

thats all ill add FOR NOW but i will reblog this tomorrow to add to the lore

[rarepears]

So… I can’t send images in Anon!

But here’s a vague outline of what happens before the reset!

There are a few minor background changes that don’t impact the plot.

Himbo finally gets to be a nanny that gets to go on cool missions!

He also gets a few demons trying to bridenap him but he thinks their trying to steal his kids. ( They’re actually his clients kids but he loves them like his own)

Our Himbo tries out cottagecore the first year he ends up in PIDW. He makes a bro out of a carnivorous plant spirit with weak acids but great sucking power. Really good sucking power.

And our Fratbro gives a LOT of nutrients. So Fratbro gets to live safely in the forest now! He lives here after the reset as well.

He doesn’t know it but cultivation with spirits, this spirit in particular help with people who start cultivating late in life.

After our Himbo fully sets up something horrible happens! People are chasing down a cosplaying child!

So our Himbo with the help of his bro! (Who’s gotten gains these past months!) save the kid!

And the people chasing the kid down disappear? He doesn’t know what happened but he forgot about them after plant bro said he wanted to ‘share the bounty’ and ‘celebrate their engagement’ and that ‘he’d be a good consort’

He still doesn’t known this language but those sounded like good things!

Can’t forget that most Isekai nowadays tend to be harems! It’s just that those systems thought he was going to have a harem of girls.

The child is a demon, male, who originally is cannon fodder but under the tutelage of our Himbo’s protagonist Halo gets many enlightenments and breakthroughs leading him to be a commander under LBH who eventually goes and meets the family.

He near immediately marries the Wife Himbo adopted but is stopped by Himbo(who now understands Chinese) who insists they need to get to know each other first.

Himbo believe the word for Father in Chinese means Uncle and by the time he realized it means Father he just goes along with it.

Himbo mentally adopts LBH and has already started planning the wedding.

“Kiddos! What’s a ‘dowry’?”

“It’s what you give the grooms family when they marry your daughter”

“Why? Don’t we like, give the two wedding gifts? Why give stuff to the fam?”

“To ensure they treat the daughter well and to show she has a powerful background so the other wives and family members won’t bully her”

“THeY’lL bULLy mY DAUghTher!?! OthER WIveS?!?”

And Himbo assumes LBH other wives are just family and the kissing is some cultural thing.

Even after the world resets and he knows the culture and like of ancient China he still does his own thing because

“We have to respect each other’s culture man. I dunno about you but I can be respectful.

After the reset our Himbo immediately tries to adopt LBH when he’s born.

Because LBH is part of the world he doesn’t get his memories back until the Abyss while Himbo just isn’t affected and is where he was standing with his full cultivation.

Himbo starts an overpowered family with dozens of children because he has come into peak dadness as a result.

Also. He tries to marry Tianlang Jung. He wants to be his baby’s dad! So they have to get married! He did it once with someone else so he can do it again right!?

A REVEAL! HALLO AUTHOR! 👋

Fratbro treating the kidnapping attempts like they are "capture the flag" games! Or American football; that works too.

And our Fratbro gives a LOT of nutrients. So Fratbro gets to live safely in the forest now!

LMAO what you are saying is that he pisses a lot on the trees. (Diluted) urine is great fertilizer. Golden shower play, anyone? With his first consort too LOL.

I love Fratbro's inane logic here; yes, please do chase down Tianlang Jun, trying to convince the man that they should get married so he can officially be Luo Binghe's dad! With Tianlang Jun continually saying no, Fratbro decides that he's just going to kidnap Tianlang Jun and force a marriage regardless.

Anyways, that's how he participates in another demonic custom without realizing it; yes he went and successfully pulled off a bridenapping.

[More in #a himbo fratboy in svsss au]