#the lost boys caregivers

[takabinaryy]

Shopping

idea by me Caregivers- David , Paul , and Dwayne Flip- Marko Little- Michael their little ages- Marko is 4-5 while Michael is around 3-5 Yes the four vampires are still vampires while Michael is human Michael is 5'6 in this because I said so. Marko is a flip which is between being a Caregiver and Little , Incase some people don't know what a flip is in littlespace. if there's a different word for being both a little and caregiver don't be afraid to to tell me so! )

" Milk , grapes , crackers, chicken star shaped nuggets, yogurt, gold fish crackers, more beach Towels?"

David stopped reading off of the grocery list , only to turn his head to Marko and question the curly haired blonde. Just as the bleach blonde continues to push the cart down the pasta/sauces/spices aisle. Their little human Michael was on Dwayne's hip pointing at all the different pastas. While Paul was trying to convince the taller man that the angel hair pasta is the best. Michael was in his own little world not really listening to what was being said. Marko just gives David a playful smile and gets in front of the cart , stopping the other's pushing of said cart all together. Which makes David huff in annoyance at the other hyperactive blonde.

"We need more towels because we need them for the beach obviously. And your supposed to be the smart one"

" Mar watch your mouth. And we already have beach towels at him. I made the list for food not towels or any other objects"

" Yeah I know , However we need the towels so we can make a huge square on the sand. See it's smart so the carbs can't get us! "

David swears he's getting a headache by now even Dwayne rolls his eyes hearing the two talking about stupid towels. He hicks their little human up on his hip more holding him close. And just shakes his head at them , especially when they all know Marko is going to end up , getting said things at the end of their shopping trip . Paul who can of course hear them to , the second blonde looks over at them and just flat out laughs , honestly he's already getting the feeling that Marko is little right. The laugher slightly startles Michael a tiny bit snapping him out of his thoughts. Said laughing vampire just ruffles his hair as a sorry and walks over to David's side and shakes his head with a smile on his face.

"Now davey just let him get the towels , he's just going to annoy you more if you don't. Especially when you are really easy to annoy."

The bleached blonde just rolls his eyes and puts a few boxes of Kraft Mac & cheese in the cart and huffs out of annoyance. And walks further down more growling low at Paul , which makes the other laugh again. They all know David wouldn't hurt any of them , just like they wouldn't hurt each other. But yeah the wannabe "spike" was definitely getting a headache now, David turned his head to Marko who was walking along side him , next to the cart. Yeah he doesn't feel like being annoyed way more than usual during this whole shopping trip of theirs. Said switch grins like he's won a new prize at one of the dart games they have on the boardwalk at night sometimes. Now Marko being Marko keeps his grim up knowing full well that the other male has given up.

"So?"

"Yes idiot you can get them. Just don't get the whole damn shelf! "

And just like that Marko sprits down the aisle into , different ones looking for those stupid towels he so "definitely" needed to have. Yeah Paul is definitely the one who can go rangel him because David is so done with him and this shopping trip. Dwayne comes over setting down few cups of teriyaki noodle cups in the cart. Along with a few cans of star noodles Campbell's chicken soup because both Marko and Michael like it. And the angel hair pasta that Paul had originally wanted and bragged about oh don't think David didn't see that smug. Look on Dwayne's stupid face from watching Marko's little win. After a couple minutes Paul goes after thier second little to make sure he isn't causing any trouble or anything like that , Dwayne hums before he speaks once more.

" And yet you've known him longer than any of us have, you'd think you would have been unfazed with him always trying to anny you , amor. "

"Oh please shut it tall ass"

"You wouldn't like it if I did , you'd miss my talking more than you like hearing the other two speak. "

"Well Dwayne , if he's trying to annoy me out of all of us. I believe Mar is four if he thinks the crabs won't get him , if there's a towel laying there."

"Pff oh love you know he's going to get frustrated with the crabs, we all kno-"

"Crabbies! "

David looks at their human and can't help but smile, see this is why Dwayne had him for for today, he was told that Michael can have a few options before they started their shopping. One let of his daddies either carry him or hold his hand. Two sit in the cart as they walk around. Of course Mickey immediately made grabby hands at his bubby. Said Bubby just kisses his head with amusement written all over his face.

" yes moondust we'll be seeing lots of crabs next week, seeing how much your brother is obsessed with them not getting him"

" Come on let's go find our idiots David. "

Once the group was back together, towels in the cart and the rest of the shopping list items also in said cart. And of course Marko and Michael got one new stuffie each from Paul. Getting an eye roll from David and a dramatic laugh from Dwayne of course , said man helped the other put everything away in the car as Paul got the other two in the car. Instead of heading back to the cave they used to live in. Dwayne drives back to Max's old house, they basically took it as thier own when that jackass died. And Michael's mom , brother and grandpa had actually moved to Brooklyn New York for a fresh start. Lucy had of course had a conversation with vampires before they had left. Mostly aout keeping her son safe already knowing that her oldest belonged here with his boyfriends, of course they still keep in touch with each other.

After the car is parked in the driveway and said car is turned off. Both males in the front seats turn their heads to the back , now seeing Paul gently unbuckle Micheal and carry him out. Not before nodding his head to the other sleeping little in the car.

" One of ya gonna get Mar? Ya know he likes nappin with moondust here"

" Yeah , yeah I've got him"

David tells him as he gets out and opens the door to Marko's side , and just as Paul did carefully getting their little menace out. Following the other Caregiver inside the house, they both take the boy's shoes and jackets off before laying the two in bed with the new stuffies. Once both men make sure the babies are content in dreamland , both blondes head back outside to help their tall boyfriend with the groceries that are in the trunk.

[baby-fics]

"Could you do a fic of the lost boys (David, Dwayne, Paul and Marko) with a little who wont/ can't settle. Crying whenever they're put down to sleep. What would they do?"

(As someone who loves the lost boys more than anything, Absolutely yes I can. They're like my biggest comfort characters, hope y'all like this! Forgive me if it's awkward, I haven't written a fic in a hot minute!)

It's Sunrise, Bedtime of Course!☀️

(CW: Descriptions of bugs and creepy crawlies, hurt/comfort I think?, minor angst.)

Arms reached around you while you were drawing on the floor, picking you up and peppering kisses over your face.

"Pauley I was drawing!" You said while giggling.

"Sorry sweets boss says it's bedtime.." The giggles stopped and you pouted at Paul.

"But can't we just stay up for a little bit? Please? I'm not even tired!" The puppy eyes you used were lethal, so to resist Paul put you on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. When you saw David standing right behind him.

"Sorry baby cakes, suns coming up soon. Don't worry, we'll do something fun tomorrow night okay?" David took you from Paul and headed deeper into the cave to join your Daddies for bedtime.

You started to get fussy and fidgety, something didn't feel right.. all of the boys would be sleeping above you... But you'd be all alone, in this spooky cave with things that skitter, in the dark, by yourself. Youve only just recently moved in with them, still getting used to its charms. Feeling smaller and more afraid, you tried to leave David's arms and go back.

"Woah babycakes, bedtime! Why you being fussy?" he said with tiredness and sternness in his voice, holding onto you securely. You tried to speak, but the words just weren't there- so you did the next best thing. You started to cry, you were frustrated and a little scared, being alone even if they would be less than 20 feet above you.

Dwayne and Marko, who were setting up your nest and getting one of Marko's shirts for you to sleep in, dropped what they were doing and went over to you. All of the boys were now confused as to what was wrong, which was even more stressful!

The only work you felt like you knew how to say was "No!" So you just held onto David as tight as you could and repeatedly said "No" while crying. The boys were confused, you were okay a second ago! David tried to set you down but you just clung harder to him. David is a smart boy and so is Dwayne, once you did that they shared a knowing glance. Heading behind David, Dwayne put a cool hand on your face to get your attention,

"Would you feel better if we stayed baby?" Dwayne said caressing your cheek with his thumb. With wide eyes you looked at Dwayne and quickly nodded your head, gripping onto the back of David's jacket.

"Oh honey... Why didn't you just say so? You know your daddies will always sleep with you if you want us to!" Marko cooed to you joining Dwaynes side. They frowned when they saw their effort of cheering you up just made you curl into David's embrace more, to which he tightened his own grip, rubbing soft circles with his leather clad hand.

They walked over to the nest, the baby bat still hanging on to their covens leader. Refusing to let go until all of them, David included, promised they would stay with you tonight. To which they did, offering a pinkie promise that they couldn't break. Then the tears began to slow, letting yourself be put down as long as they stayed close by. Calming down knowing they would be right here, never having to go to sleep in an empty bed again.

You put your sleeve in your mouth when Paul approached with one of their band shirts and a black paci you had gotten online. He gently grabbed your hand and saw the doe eyed, spacey look in your eyes and knew you were absolutely babyspaced right now.

"How about you trade me sugar," which caught your interest, nodding your head and shaking your sleeve along with it, laughing Paul gently tugged your wrist saying, "How about you give me this so we can get you into Daddy's shirt, and you can use your paci? How's that sound?"

You slowly let your sleeve go so Daddy could give you the paci and help you into the shirt, which makes you whine and tear up again. Being changed is your least favorite part of bedtime... Before you could start crying Paul quickly put your shirt on and wiped your eyes attacking you with kisses and bringing you to the bed. Marko looks over and joins you, sandwiching you between him and Paul.

With Dwayne jumping onto the pile and settling on using you as his stuffed animal. David joined the outside of the pile, propping his head up as he watched his little family. He reached his hand over Marko and caressed your face as your eyes began to close.

"Don't worry, nobody's going anywhere. We'll be here when you wake up, okay? Sleep well little one." David said then he blew out the candle that illuminated the cave and each of them drifted to sleep with the pull of the sun, with you feeling safe in their arms knowing your Daddies weren't going anywhere. ☀️

[rythesquidprince]

Ughhh I wanna make some more FD agere content, like Billy Hitchcock or Rory Peters but my mind is just SOLELY focused on Erik Campbell right now and it's a problem 🥲 I saw him on the first 20 or so mins of bloodlines and he hasn't left my mind at all since 😭😭 like at first I thought it was just wishful thinking that he would be a good caregiver but the more I think about it I actually think he'd be such a sweet CG when he got the hang of it🥹 trying to hold back making all my content about him right now but the hyperfixation is real dude :'')

Wanna make cg headcannons for him but I'm a terribleee writer so I'll just stick to moodboards ig :')

[aew-kun-age-regression]

I did a big brother Moodboard for Sam but I really wanted to make one for the Frog brothers too because they are awesome!!!

[ur-fav-is-agere]

Marko from The Lost Boys

Is a big brother caregiver!

[oceantornadoo]

ch2 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

masterlist | next

You hate John Price because he ruined your childhood. Or at least, his father did.

Growing up as a bastard was hard. You do thank your lucky stars that you were a bastard in modern-day society, and not during some time when your mother could have had her head chopped off. It’s the small things.

Your mother was Mr. Riley’s nanny. How original. 

Mrs. Riley, Simon and Tommy’s mother, did not like her husband. Smart woman. He was cruel, knew how to poke at scars until they opened and bled down bruised skin. They had an heir and a spare, neither of which she was particularly attached to. It was enough to fulfill their marriage contract, so she got to live out the rest of her days in a beachside condo in Cornwall. Simon and Tommy were raised properly, the Riley way, in Greater Manchester. In a mansion bought by blood and exploitation, guns and gold. 

With the wife out of the way and two boys under five, Mr. Riley hired a nanny. The way your mother tells it, only after three glasses of wine before the sun sets, she was low on cash and desperate for a place to stay. The whispers about the Riley family were loud, but the grumbling of her stomach was louder. It’s a phrase she repeated over and over during your childhood, as you hopped from international school in Paris to private school in New York City, wherever your father decreed was safer. You tell her she doesn’t need to justify it, even now as you live with your brother and she stays countries away, but she’ll just give you that same tightlipped smile. She still doesn’t forgive herself for who your father was, so you have to forgive her for the both of you.

She couldn’t say no to Mr. Riley. Maybe it was the sight of her with his kids or her constant proximity, but he claimed he was in love. You can’t say no to the head of a gang, especially if you’re an employee. And once she became pregnant, he tightened the reins. Pulled strings to become your legal primary caregiver so she couldn’t leave the country. It was only after a robbery went wrong, where Mr. Riley lost almost a quarter of his wealth, he invited others to weigh in on the situation. Or at least, Mr. Price.

You were seven, Tommy was ten, and Simon was fourteen. Simon said he was too grown up to play with a baby like you, but Tommy always stuck around. Tommy just beat you in hide and seek, again, and frustration seeped out of your skin. He always caught you, no matter where you hid. He was counting down to another round and you were determined to win this time. There was one place he wouldn’t think of - your father’s office.

There have been a lot more men around lately. Mama had told you to keep upstairs, out of eyesight, but you wanted to win this time. Tommy was counting from sixty, too fast in your opinion, so you creeped down the stairs at warp speed. There was a secret door to Father’s office, mainly for the maids, and it had a door for your dog. Riley was huge, so the flap took up a third of the door. You were still small enough to scurry through, though it was becoming a tighter fit lately. Determined, you popped through the flap, being sure not to disturb Father. There was a chair for you to hide behind, a perfect angle to hide from the man on the other side of Father’s desk while still keeping an eye out for Tommy’s feet.

“They hit you because you’re weak.” The man’s voice was familiar. Mr. Price. He was around more and more, always bringing his annoying son John. He was sixteen and thought he was so cool, bossing around the staff like he was, well, the boss. And he never wanted to play. 

“They hit us because my idiot men weren’t watchin’ the cameras.” Father replied. He sounded angry. He always snorted like a bull before he started yelling, and you could hear him huffing. “Y’ve got a bastard an’ ‘er mother yankin’ ya by the balls. She’s the help, for god sake. The scousers see an opportunity.” You knew that word. Bastard. Simon had called you bastard once, a year ago when you took his stuffed animal that he hid from Father. Mama told you it was a mean word, only said by people with too-small hearts. When Simon said it, you cried for an hour. He apologized, hugging you like a baby until the tears receded. Then, he promised to hurt anyone who said that word to you. 

“What do you suggest?” Father didn’t say anything about the mean word. He was like that, he didn’t protect you like Tommy or Simon. “Send them away. Make your enemies forget about your weakness. Bring Simon into the fold.” That wasn’t Mr. Price speaking, it was John. He wanted to send you away? You prayed not to Cornwall, where Simon’s mom lived. She was scary.

“I second John. You need strength, not complication. Focusin’ on Simon learnin’ the ropes will emphasize your heir, not the help y’ forgot to wear a rubber with. ‘Least til she’s eighteen an’ can be married.” Mama wasn’t married, so you didn’t want to be either. “Appreciate the help, gentlemen. Now about the Chester deal…” You tuned them out. Sent away? You had to tell Mama. Slipping away like a cat, you ran to find Mama, not stopping even when Tommy found you. He’d won, again.

Without John’s suggestion, you might have stayed. You might have gotten a real relationship with your brothers. You might have prevented Tommy from walking into that gunfight and- that’s where the hypotheticals stopped. Who knows what would have happened? What you know is that, despite being provided for and with your mom, there was always that what if? clinging to the back of your brain.

Your father died when you were twenty-two. Months after he’d paid your last college bill, thankfully. Simon called you during your summer of freedom, a twenty-nine-year-old man with no clue how to run an empire. A lost younger brother between you. He’d promised to protect you, and that was your chance to return the favor. Family first, the Riley way.

-

Now, years later, the hate for John Price has turned from a boil to a simmer. Something you don’t think about constantly until he’s right in front of you. It’s hard to blame a man for a teenage hypothetical, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t insult him for being a pompous git. A mafia brat. Decades of being shitty to each other have turned the cord of your relationship rotted black, a frayed string connected by the fact you can’t physically hurt the other. You’ve got no clue why he wants to marry you of all people, so you’re determined to scare him off. This should be fun.

-

“Quaint,” John mutters to Gaz, who scoffs. They took the jet, a quick hour trip, and brought Laswell, his trusted lawyer. The bookstore is off a side street in Greater Manchester, next to a cafe and a flower shop for god sake. He has to give it to Ghost; it’s a good place to clean cash or lay low. Discreet. No clue why the spitfire’s running it, though. He’s surprised it’s not gone to ruin.

The bell over the door makes a faint tinkling sound as they enter. Gaz goes first, ready for an ambush like the control freak he is, and John can see you smiling at him. It’s a smile he’s never seen, unbidden and shy. It immediately sours once John emerges, turning into a faint frown. “You actually came.” You say it like you aren’t discussing a marriage contract to tie you together for eternity. It’s been a year since John last saw you. Your meetings are infrequent, mainly in passing during weddings and funerals. He knows it’s been years since you came back to Manchester, but you finally seem to have…matured. More confident with your movements, at ease behind the counter of your bookstore. If he were a different man, your confidence would be attractive, but in this world, something about it irritates him.

He sees you pick up your phone, a battered thing, and fire off a short text. Not five seconds later, Soap and Ghost emerge from the shadows of the backroom, men in suits at their shoulders. The shop is immediately crowded, and you cringe at the change in atmosphere. “You’re lucky I closed the store today. Your vibe would freak out the customers. Come on.” John is already practicing restraint, biting his tongue so he doesn’t reply like a scorned teenager. He’s too grown for this. 

Soap leads the way, opening a hidden door to the basement by tugging at a dusty bookshelf in the back. He holds the door open for everyone, trading looks with Ghost before nodding to the Price group. “What do ya do if a customer pulls that book by accident?” Gaz wonders out loud, snorting to himself as he approaches the door. “Dosnae happen, Garrick.” Gaz grins and John sighs inwardly. “Usin’ last names now, MacTavish? I can play that game too.” Gaz dips down the staircase before Soap can answer, presumably needing to have the last word. Between you and Soap, this is going to be a long meeting.

The bookstore might be old and dusty, but the basement is sleek and modern. John passes a small med bay, fully stocked, before they reach a large conference room, equipped with TVs and enough office chairs for a small army. Even Gaz lets out a low whistle, while Laswell hums thoughtfully. Kate’s probably memorizing the layout for another upgrade to her office.

As everyone sits, two waiters make their rounds, taking drink orders. He gets a tea and thanks the waiter, catching your brows furrowing after he murmurs his gratitude. Odd.

“Right so-” Soap starts, but Gaz cuts him off. “You’re a bloody barrister?” Soap practically growls at his tone. “Solicitor. Not jus’ a pretty face, Garrick.” It’s silent as the two stare, a contest only broken when Simon clears his throat. “Get on with it, haven’t got all day.” Soap starts again, mainly talking with Kate as they go through the contract. John has it practically memorized. 25% of his businesses, mainly the ones not in London, in exchange for their weight in Ghost’s gold, something he desperately needs. Relinquishing his claims to border territory between Manchester and Liverpool, something that would make his father turn in his grave, for thousands of weapons. Guns, bullets, tracking equipment - anything he can use that has removable identity numbers. It’s a deal that’ll help him win against Shepherd’s men. All for the small price of being married to you, of course.

“Ms. Riley will marry Mr. Price and produce a minimum of two children within ten years. In case of fertility struggles, one child will suffice, only with a board of doctors agreement. If infertility persists and no children are produced, we have clauses for that.” The statement rolls off Laswell’s tongue easily, but John can tell the moment it reaches your brain. Your eyebrows go sky high, and you almost stand until Simon puts a firm hand on your shoulder, keeping you in place. “Board of doctors? What, so if I can’t get pregnant, I have to inform an entire hospital just so I don’t get shot? That’s barbaric.” You spit out, and John can’t help but agree. If the situation comes to it, he wouldn’t want the future mother of his child having to humiliate herself like that. Thoughts of you being a mother are turned away, a dreary thought for another day.

John murmurs instructions to Laswell, who notes them down with ease. He can tell she approves as her shoulders relax slightly. “We can amend this line. It’ll only require one doctor, not a board, and it can be your current gyno or someone else. The matter will stay between Ms. Riley, Mr. Price, and Mr. Riley if it comes to be.” Laswell replies. You huff, irritated that John agreed, and he smirks at you from across the table. You’re so easy to tease, probably because you’re snooty and spoiled.

“What about my bookstore?” The question escapes you after another ten minutes of Laswell droning on about childcare protocol. How if there’s no child in ten years, and all avenues have been explored, the marriage will be dissolved. “What about it?” Laswell asks smoothly. Your eyes dart between her’s and John’s. “Well, I’ll hire a manager for the Riley store, but what about in London?” John considers it, running a hand through his beard. It’s a safety risk, but who knows what havoc you’ll wreak on his home if you’re bored 24/7. Something to do would be nice.

“‘Ve got a few closed storefronts I own. You could take one.” Your mouth drops. You didn’t expect him to agree, to be honest. Imagined yourself chained to his property, playing housewife night and day. “I want to own it. Buy it from you so the deed is in my name.” You cross your arms on your chest, quirking an eyebrow like it’s a challenge.

“Fine. But you’ll let it up once there’s kids.”

“Not happening.”

“First few years, at least.”

“And are you taking a few years off for paternity leave?” Well, no. But he’s running an organized crime unit of over 5,000 members and you’re running a bookstore. John can’t have other families seeing his wife working when she’s supposed to be resting or raising his heir.

“First year after every new kid. That’s what I’ll agree to.” Soap murmurs something in your ear and you sigh with defeat. “Fine. But you have to sell me the property at fair market value and you can’t use it for any business. And I get to pick any property not in use.” This seems to be the hill you’re dying on. If you were a Made Man, he’d add in flowery language, guaranteeing you the cheapest property. But he’s already taking your home and your business from you, not to mention your womb and ten years of your life. He can spare a building.

“Agreed. Next.”

Soap continues on, his leg bouncing under the table with so much force that it’s shaking. He’s eager to get out, that’s for sure, and John can’t help but wonder why. “Ms. Riley will reside with Mr. Price at his permanent London residence. If she wishes t’ leave city limits, she must request written permission.” John quirks an eyebrow. Surely you’ll bite at this one.

“I’m not even dignifying that with a response.” Is what eventually comes out of your mouth. Took you almost thirty seconds to say it. He could see you weighing your options in your mind, the price of too many amendments versus your freedom. He almost respects the move, until he remembers this is the Riley brat. Not someone to be respected.

“‘S for your safety.” He croaks out, throat dry from lack of use. Speaking to you is like breaking the fourth wall, an unsettling feeling. The full force of your glare is blazing hot, the pits of Hell contained in two eyes. “I can take care of myself. I’ve always got a gun and a man on me.” You challenge him.

“Guns run out of bullets. Men die.” He replies, smug with the fact you can’t particularly deny what he’s saying. You turn to Soap, muttering your dissent. He shakes his head, then looks over at Ghost. The bastard has his mask on, but even a blind man could see he agrees with the statement. He wants to protect his sister, a trait John knew he could rely on.

“Fine. Oral works.” You say the words like they’re bitter on your tongue, something you want to spit out. “Does it, sweetheart? Good t’ know.” You roll your eyes, then shove Soap’s shoulder for him to continue. “Can’t believe I’m marrying a manchild.” If you’d said it in front of his men, he’d have to reprimand you, but he can drop the mask in this room. He’s not going to punish his future wife this early. It would throw off the wedding atmosphere.

Laswell marks the change from written to oral permission then continues. She’s at the last few lines, thankfully. “The marriage cannot be dissolved unless in the case of maltreatment or abuse. If there is evidence of Ms. Riley cheating, 50% of the Riley Family assets will be transferred to the Price Family and the marriage will be dissolved. Any bastards will not be recognized and will be given no child support.” The word bastard echoes around the room. Laswell could say she didn’t realize the context of the word but, knowing her, it was probably used on purpose. A test.

You roll your shoulders back. Ghost’s eyes narrow into black pits. Soap’s hands clench and unclench on the table. Despite the obvious tension, there’s no immediate reaction. You don’t jump on the table and curse his ancestors or pull out a gun and start shooting. Both he expected more than the actual outcome, which is…nothing. You nod at Soap and Ghost, gesturing at them to continue. 

It should be a victory. Gaz is nudging him under the table, his right-hand man all too proud that he riled up the Rileys. The feeling of success is hollow as John tracks your tense muscles, the way you turn your gaze to the contract in front of you and don’t move, even when Laswell finishes reading it. You’re just…frozen. It’s too human of a look on you, and John wonders if this is what your marriage will be like. Cold. Distant. Robotic fucking, just enough to make heirs. A fidelity clause only for you, while John can do whatever he wants as long as there aren’t any kids made. It’s a point he would have let you argue, let you add a fidelity clause for him too, but you take it on the chin. Is it punishment for the family sin you didn’t commit? The mantle of knowledge is heavy on his shoulders.

John signs. You sign. Ghost signs then hands it to the lawyers. Gaz is the witness. In five minutes, John has turned his mafia into a militarized mob and gained a wife who hates him. Every man’s dream.

Papers are gathered as the waiters clear glasses from the table. He stands only after you do, observing how Ghost has to touch your shoulder to get you to pay attention. Soap leads the way again, but John hangs back until he’s shoulder to shoulder with you. The dislike is still there, a plant that sprouted roots eons ago, but the urge to be a good husband is there as well. He was raised with the standards of chivalry, to be the picture of a gentleman. He will not treat the mother of his children like how his father treated his mother. He will be better.

“Alrigh’?” He nudges your shoulder. It snaps you out of your daydream, glassy eyes meeting his own as you take stock of the situation. “Fuckin’ mint, thanks.” It’s the most Manc thing he’s ever heard you say. “Remember bein’ promised tea, but not a biscuit t’ be found.” You snort and he’s glad for it. You seem to finally be out of whatever funk came over you. He lets you go in front of him on the staircase, keeping his eyes firmly on the sliver of skin that shows as you move and the outline of a gun tucked in your waistband. John Price does not stare at his fiancee’s arse at all. Mostly.

“Guess I’m not wife material, Price. Looks like you’re getting the shitty end of this deal.” You shoot him a cheeky grin once you’re on the main floor, and he’s glad it looks mostly genuine. You’re easier to deal with when you’re bantering, not whatever that was back there. “Jus’ bought ya for some guns, sweetheart. Not lookin’ good on the husband front, either.” You roll your eyes, biting your cheek so he doesn’t sense a laugh. The whole group is at the door now, awkwardly standing on opposite sides of the room as the two of you talk. Is this what your wedding will be like?

“I’ll, uh, see you Saturday.” At our wedding. To each other. Jesus, this is a bleak future he’s thinking of.

“See you Saturday, John.” You stand in the center of your store. Sunlight is streaming through the windows as the sun goes down, and if John were a different man, he’d tell you you look beautiful. He’d kiss your cheek, then your forehead, assuring you that your years of spats were just a form of foreplay. He’d squeeze your shoulder in reassurance, murmur a sweet nothing in your ear. Fortunately, or unfortunately, John is not that man.

“Remember, somethin’ borrowed, somethin’ blue.” He winks but there’s no charm behind it. He thinks.

“Something old, something new. A sixpence in your shoe.” You whisper it just to him, like a secret, and then turn away. Like he was never there.

John turns away, feeling oddly flustered, and doesn’t catch Gaz’s eye as they leave. He avoids Gaz’s gaze as he shakes Ghost’s and Soap’s hands. He’s still avoiding it when they get into the car, Laswell splitting off to her own chartered vehicle. It’s only when the doors close his right-hand man decides to speak.

“You’re fucked.” He says it sternly, like a teacher scolding his student. The kid’s a decade younger than John but acts like he’s his father.

“Piss off.” He’s got no idea what he’s talking about. There’s nothing between you and John. That bridge has been burned, ashes turning to dust in the wind.

Of that, he’s almost sure.

-

I hope the background wasn’t too boring! Stay tuned for a chaotic wedding week 😁lmk if you want to be tagged (please remember this is 18+)

-

@heretoreadanddrinktea

@peachyxrosie

@joufrance

@galactict3a

@exactlyyoungchaos

@trulovekay

@alleycc

@abox-of-rocks

@orangehibiscus

[the-clumsywitchtarot]

What is Your Future Husband's Love Language?

Because maybe his love language is quality time and you need to know ahead of time to work it into your schedule.

Cards

10 of Swords (Reversed)

2 of Wands (Reversed)

Wheel of Fortune

I feel like your future husband's love language is acts of service, anything that would make their life flow more easily. Before starting the reading for this pile I felt a pull to listen to a song called "A Little Bit" by Erika de Casier so they may also have quality time as a love language but I feel like they're too proud or stoic to admit it. This person could definitely be someone that avoids becoming too emotional or lovey dovey. They seem like someone that only knows how to show love from a practical side, for instance if you need your oil changed they'll have it done to keep you from having to do it. But if you are someone that likes to have deep talks or is touchy feely they may reject that. Another song that came up was "Strong as Glass" by Goapele.

Cards

6 of Wands

10 of Wands (Reversed)

The World

Apparently this is going to be a musical reading because starting your pile I felt the need to put on the song "All This Love" by Trey Songz. Your future husband's love language is words of affirmation, he is someone that is going to love hearing how well you thinks he's doing. And how much love him, when you give this man a compliment he is going to be in cloud 9. And if you send him text throughout the day just to let him know that you're thinking of him, he will love that! I can see a man getting a text, reading it, and then just beaming afterwards. He just wants to know that he is loved and appreciated. You do that and he'll be willing to give you the world (I know, an ironic choice of words considering you got the world card!) This is a side note but this pile gives me stay at home girlfriend vibes, well at least before you get married.

Cards

The Moon

4 of Swords

6 of Swords

This pile is interesting, I don't think your future husband will have any love language in particular but rather a combination of all of them. I feel like this person is just looking to quiet their minds and whichever of the love languages does that at any particular time is the one they'll want. I feel like this is a man that could've struggled opening up and expressing his needs at first. They may have been raised in a home or environment where their needs didn't matter or they were shown that they were not important in the eyes of their caregiver(s). This is a man that may have grown up in the foster care system. I feel like you will help him to realize that he is just as important and worthy of love and care as anyone else. I feel like he'll be so comfortable opening up to you that you will help him become in tune with what he needs. For any of those of you that are worried that this is someone that is an emotionally wounded boy man. Don't worry, I don't see that being the case, I think this is someone that has emotional intelligence when it comes to others but he just needs to be given permission to have it when it comes to himself. I feel like you guys will bring out the absolute best in each other effortlessly. I'm hearing the phrase "there are no perfect people but there are people perfect for each other."

Thank you for reading and please feel free to let me know which pile you chose! 🩷

- Erika, The Clumsy Witch

[skeletonh0e]

Can I request how the boys would treat a sick reader? I've been feeling like shit lately so I would appreciate it 😭

Sorry you feel bad homie! Sending you all the love! And for this in particular I'm going with a human reader but pronouns are gender neutral

You're sick (ft. The boys)

Classic Sans:

Nope. Into bed. Getting rest.

He's very loving but also firm, admittedly he doesn't know much about human illnesses but he wants you healthy, so you're in bed. He'll handle the rest

He's not leaving much room for argument

And yes if he feels it's severe enough you will be dragged to a healer

Gets you some medicine, even cooks for you (that's rare for his lazy ass), and does keep you company

Skeletons probably can't get sick, at least not from the common cold or whatever

He'll even let you cuddle up to him, even if you're snotty

He's still making jokes though make no mistake

"the plague, the flu, and the common cold walk into a bar. The bartender asks "Hey what is this? Some kind of sick joke?"" Da dum tss

Not smothering by any means, it'd Sans, he's still chill about the whole thing, like I said just firm and doesn't want you to worsen your condition

Underswap Sans:

THE MAGNIFICIENT SANS TO THE RESCUE

Literally just said you weren't feeling so hot and suddenly he's dedicated to completely spoiling you until you get better

Medicine? He's already bought plenty just in case. Food? Making you anything within reason. Blankets? You gotta lotta blankets? Stuff you need to do? No you don't he will do it

"worry not my beloved! while i am here nothing shall disturb your recovery!"

It's a bit much but you can't say you're not thankful for it

He won't be extremely touchy, he doesn't think he can catch anything from you but he doesn't wanna risk it either

Still supportive of you though!! Make no mistake but germs are Icky!

Extremely good at managing doctors appointments and such if it there's a need for it to go that far

Definitely studying up for next time about human conditions, he's so worried he's not doing enough.

He wants you to be alright y'know?

Underfell Sans:

The fuck you mean you're sick?!? Have you not been careful!?

You're getting a lecture lmao, how dare you not keep your immune system in check, it's like you want to inconvenience hum!

Y/N: "....you don't have to care for me-"

Red: "no fuck you im going to"

Does the typical shit, medicine, makes sure you're in bed and actually resting, gets you food, etc. Just all in a very grouchy way

Will also take caring for you as an excuse to not to his typical jobs, content to lay with you while you benchwatch some shows

The hypocrisy of him lecturing you about letting yourself get sick but not taking any precautions with you isn't lost on anyone

Expect some typical brutally honest Red though he is not afraid to tell you that you look like shit

Which tbf you probably do but that's besides the point

Complains he won't go through this if there's a second time but we all know he will

Horrortale Sans:

C O N C E R N

It takes everything in him to not panic instantly, pls reassure him it's a simple sickness and that'll it clear up in a few days. PLS TELL HIM UR NOT DYING

After that is over he's going into caregiver mode, no questions asked

More intense than Classic, but not as smothering as Swap. Very attentive nonetheless

Gets you whatever you ask for or need, keeps a very close on your condition for improvements as well as making sure it doesn't worsen

Whatever need to be done it will be done he will be your provider

Definitely has no problem with physical contact, fuck him getting sick you're more important

If he had his way you wouldn't leave the bed until you're completely healed but he'll happily just carry your from place to place if need be

Honestly still worried despite your reassurances anyway

He'll be so relieved once it's all over

Underlust Sans:

Awwww baby what's wrong? :(((

Quickly assets the situation and immediately starts to care for you

It's pretty surprising how he switches from his goofy flirtatious self to a very sweet dependable caregiver

I mean it's not like you expected him to be a dick and blow you off completely but still

Gets you all comfy in bed, some soup, maybe some tea and even offers a massage

Not to say the flirting completely goes away though

Ace: "you're still pretty hot like this ya know"

Y/N: *having a fucking coughing fit*

Keeping this as SFW as possible but let's just say he's not opposed to catering to your other needs if you have them at all during sick hours

If not he's down to give a massage or cuddle for sure

Fresh Sans:

Imm be real with you, he is not the best man for this

I think you're gonna have to really explain that you're sick and not in the mood for his usual antics

And he still doesn't quite get it??? But at the very least he's concerned enough to at least try to do something

Man is a parasite bro technically is a form of sickness be easy on him

You'll have to tell him what to get and he'll get it

He's still extremely touchey, possibly more so as even if he doesn't understand how to help someone who's sick, he does care for you and doesn't like you being in a bad mood of any sorts

Will watching him do some sweet tricks help? Cuz he'll do 'em

Kind of annoying in the sense he'll kinda constantly be asking "are you better now? what about now?"

If it actually gets to a really concerning point for him he'll go harass some bitches for some quick healing medicine

Will probably make some enemies while retrieving it but if it means you two can go to chucky cheese later no problem it's worth it

[babyzzai]

baby regressor todoroki moodboard + headcanons 𖦹˖˙🧸🍼˖☆

moodboard ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

headcanons ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

₊˚⊹ 🍼 shoto is a trauma regressor, and regresses to cope with his past abuse. hes also autistic in my headcanons, and i believe this has a part in his regression as well, but its mainly due to his cptsd

₊˚⊹ 🍼 as stated in the title, shotos a baby regressor! his regression age is 0-1, hes a very teeny little guy! most of the time hes just down for cuddles, naps, watching tv, and playing with baby toys if hes not too sleepy

₊˚⊹ 🍼 he was very closed about his regression at first. originally he believed there was something wrong with him, and he didnt know why he wasnt able to just act his age sometimes. he didnt know why he wanted comfort, and wanted to be held, and needed to suck his fingers to calm down. he didnt know why he couldnt talk, and couldnt think, couldnt be normal. but it was izuku who introduced him to age regression, and told him that thats likely what he was experiencing, and he helped him warm up to the idea of letting himself be cared for, and listening to his instincts. hes not exactly open about his regression. he wont talk about it unless hes asked. but he doesnt hide it, like he used to.

₊˚⊹ 🍼 his main caregivers are fuyumi, izuku, and sometimes katsuki. when at the dorms its mainly izuku, but whenever hes at home, its mainly fuyumi

₊˚⊹ 🍼 speaking of him regressing at home, he absolutely is not able to handle if enji is in the same room. he wont have a breakdown or anything, as a survival mechanism, but he becomes really quiet and will try snd force himself out of his headspace.

₊˚⊹ 🍼 as shown in the moodboard, i associate his regression aesthetic with a lot of light blue. i also imagine him to like “kawaii, modern stuff compared to homey or nostalgic stuff. he doesnt really have a childhood to be nostalgic upon in the first place, so he tends to discover new things he likes, usually more modern kids stuff.

₊˚⊹ 🍼 hes a big fan of miffy. he likes that she has an “x” on her mouth because it makes him feel accepted, because sometimes he is non speaking both due to being very very little, and even when not little due to his autism. so her having an x as a mouth implies she doesnt talk, and shoto finds comfort in that.

₊˚⊹ 🍼 when fuyumi is taking care of him, it reminds her of when shoto was a real baby, and she gets nostalgic and sentimental and emotional, because she missed out on her baby brothers childhood for the most part, and now she feels like she has the opportunity to reconnect with him and make up for lost time. (natsuo feels the same although hes more of just his big brother instead of his main caregiver)

₊˚⊹ 🍼 nicknames he likes include: baby boy, little guy, sweetheart, angel, cutie, and bunny. this, however, does not stop katsuki from calling him icy hot, kiddo, twerp, brat, etc. (affectionately, of course, although shoto glares at him, though at this point hes used to it). izuku likes to call him snowflake.

₊˚⊹ 🍼 he LOVES elsa and frozen. she reminds him of himself

₊˚⊹ 🍼 not a very fussy baby, and much like when hes big he kind of just goes with the flow of things. when hes sleepy hes not fussy moreso as he just kinda starts falling asleep on the spot. hes been left playing or watching shows or doing whatever activity, and his caregiver comes back to find him passed out wherever they left him hehe. be that the couch, the floor, the table, etc.

₊˚⊹ 🍼 he absolutely adores being held. he wont necessarily complain per se if hes put down, unless hes having a bad day, but hell pout, and hell sulk for a bit, and as soon as he sees his caregiver again hes immediately reaching out his arms in the “uppie” position.

₊˚⊹ 🍼 he doesnt use parental nicknames for his caregivers because how he sees it is that he already has parents, and although he doesnt like his dad and has a complicated relationship with his mom, he still has them and doesnt need or want new parents. there was an instance however where he was really tired and fuyumi was rocking him as he fell asleep, and he called out for “mama”. he doesnt remember this, and wouldnt ever consciously do it, but i believe subconsciously he probably sees fuyumi as more of a mother figure than rei not because he hates rei, not at all, but just because hes lived his entire childhood with fuyumi while rei was gone. this made fuyumi really emotional and she pulled him closer.

₊˚⊹ 🍼 i think besides miffy, he likes cinnamoroll, ghibli movies (especially my neighbor totoro), and maybe chiikawa (his favorite would be hachiware).

₊˚⊹ 🍼 he uses a pacifer whenever hes regressed. i think he enjoys deco pacis because theyre sparkly and pretty, and because hes autistic sparkly things make him happy. he would also like just pain regular ones, though, but i like to think shoto has a taste for extravagant things, what with growing up rich and all, haha.

[takusan-no-ai]

Across Nations

PAIRING: Xianyun x Male Reader (Romantic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: Xianyun finds love on vacation.

Mondstadt had so much to offer with it’s architecture, landscaping, and culture being so rich and different from Liyue. Truly, the traveler and Paimon gave Xianyun an incredible experience with their brochure.

Of course all good things must come to an eventual halt, so Xianyun spent her early morning packing up her souvenirs, wanting the spend her final day getting some last minute sight seeing done.

What she never expected was to encounter an abandoned child! The poor little guy, having to hunt and scavenge for food, and he could only speak in simple terms.

“You poor thing! Where are your caregivers?! Never mind, I’ll just have to step up myself.” She said whilst sauntering over to the young boy; the boy in question being Razor.

“Razor is fine. My family is Lupical. Please back up.” He said in a rushed tone, searching for an escape; Razor may have been a social outcast (by choice) but he knew a kidnapper when he saw one. Unbeknownst to Xianyun, whose innocent intentions were being taken for ill, a figure had been watching from far away amused by the sight before him.

A gust of wind blew through, nearly causing both to lose their footing. Once it subsided a figure appeared between the two, revealing to be a young man smiling. “Name’s (Y/N).” He introduced himself to her.

Xianyun was flabbergasted for a second before coming back to her senses. “Are you this child’s father?” She asked with a raised brow, clearly getting judgmental. (Y/N) held back a chuckle as he heard Razor huff behind him.

“No. Razor’s family is the wolves in this forest. And he has friends from within the city, even a teacher from the knights library.” He defended the boy. Razor took the chance to escape, leaving the two adults to their discussion.

Xianyun rubbed her forehead, avoiding eye contact; what an embarrassing mistake. “My apologies. I just don’t like seeing any child at risk. I’ve nurtured two of my own for many years.”

“Shocking. You seem quite young yourself, Cloud Retainer.” He teased. Xianyun gasped: how had he known? “Relax. I’m old myself, despite how it might look. It’s only natural for me to have heard of you by now; especially since you’re friends with the Honorary Knight.”

She took a cautious step forward and pinched his cheek, pulling it. “Yet you’re clearly human.” She concluded.

He hummed through the slight discomfort, carefully removing her hand and holding it in his. “Interesting, isn’t it? Ever since I got my vision, at a certain age I just stopped growing old. Perhaps it’s cursed.” He jested. Though there was a clear look of pain behind those eyes.

Xianyun stared at him and frowned at what she saw back: lost friends, family, loved ones. No one to recall those memories with. She patted him on the head, causing (Y/N) to look at her in shock, mouth ajar. “I know many like you who have little to share such emotions with. If you ever need someone to listen, I am here.”

(Y/N) stood frozen. Then he chuckled. “No one’s comforted me like that since my mother. Well, then that settles it.” He said with his hands on his hips. Xianyun was now the one confused.

“What do you mean?”

“I was going to report you to the authorities for child abduction, but only a mother would react like you did.” He jested, and like that, disappeared with the gust of wind.

“You said you knew me! You—you—YOU LYING NITWIT! HOODLUM!” She shouted to the sky.

…

…

Time passed, and despite a shaky beginning, Xianyun and (Y/N) forged a bond neither was prepared for. He showed her all the local specialties she hadn’t seen, taught her the history of each monument, and introduced her to such interesting people from all walks of life.

Xianyun had extended her stay in Mondstadt to spend more time together, but like all good times it had to end. She said farewell, promised to visit, and left for Liyue.

The shocking part was how well (Y/N) took the news. Perhaps he was inevitably waiting for it. Or he didn’t care that she’d leave. The thought of that left Xianyun feeling blue.

Her feelings were an open book to Shenhe and Ganyu. “What’s wrong Xianyun?” They asked. But she couldn’t hones answer. Why was she sad? Did she really miss (Y/N) that much?

She spent some time meditating on that question at her home in Liyue.

“Why do I feel so somber? It can’t be because of (Y/N). Maybe I just need a distraction.” So she spent her time creating new inventions. But those were all feeble attempts, for her mind continued to drift away.

She had gotten so frustrated, unable to focus on anything, and finally shouted out. “Why won’t that man just leave my heart already!” It took her a second to realize what she’d just said aloud.

“Huh?” An all too familiar voice questioned her. That same gust of wind blew through her open window, that same face staring at her with an amused yet confused face. His eyes already glowing brightly. “Didn’t think I’d find you so soon.”

For once in very long time Xianyun felt an embarrassment unlike any other, her face growing hotter by the second. She fanned it with her hand, clearing her throat to remain calm. “What are you doing here.” It was more of a demand than a question.

“Well, since you clearly can’t get enough of me—”

“Debatable.” She interjected.

“I suppose I should say, I couldn’t stand it. Those moments we had in Mondstadt weren’t enough for me. So I came to Liyue.” He teased. “Sorry if I come off as creepy, but I kinda got the feeling that you didn’t want to end things off so abruptly either.” (Y/N) rambled on. Xianyun’s silence had made him nervous, fearful of overstepping a boundary.

“What took you so long!” Xianyun asked, mouth twitching as she tried and failed to fight back her smile. She pulled him in through her window, trapping him in her embrace.

(Y/N) hugged her back with wide blown eyes. “That’s a sudden change from what you said earlier.”

“Well, I’ve decided that there’s no point in delaying the inevitable, no matter if we’re mortal or immortal. And being with you, that is one good thing I don’t want to end any time soon.”

Now it was (Y/N)’s turn to blush.

“Oh, and I have another surprise!” He said, catching Xianyun’s attention. “Since you’re clearly madly in love with me—”

“Hmm.”

“I’ve decided to make Liyue my permanent home. For us.”

That news brought a twinkle to her eyes and a smile to her face.

“I’m excited to spend my time with you.” She said.

“As am I.” He said.

- Fin

[cranberrymoons]

you're abby clark and you haven't brushed your hair in days, always running late, your job has you working alternate nights and days on 12 hour shifts where you hear people cry and die and lose their loved ones, and you're so stressed out, and you meet a 25 year old fuckboy with big sad wet eyes and not-yet-enormous muscles and he's so hot and so sad and so pathetic, and he really really likes you in a way that is honestly a little concerning re: clinginess, and sure he has like 6 roommates and will only have phone sex with you at first and has probably never been on a second date in his life, but he's sweet!! and he is so shocked and worried when you say you haven't had sex in a year that he says, in broad daylight, please tell me you're at least masturbating??? and he buys you the most beautiful bouquet of flowers and tries to take you on a hot air balloon ride? and then he gets so involved in your care for your mother that he forms an unbreakable bond with your mother's caregiver!!! which will continue for years and years after you've broken up with him, and this is someone that he's going to carry forward in his own life into his own family, and wow you never could have seen that coming, but then your mom dies, and your brother isn't here in los angeles anymore, and you feel a little bit like you've lost yourself in everything that's been going on the past few years, but this boy. he's so sweet and so kind and so hot, and you're like well. i just don't want to break his heart, or i don't want to physically be here to see his heart get broken, but i also cannot stay here because i will literally suffocate and never find myself again if i stay. and so you leave, and you tell him you're leaving but you make it sound like it's only for a while, but in your heart you know it's really forever, but you're hurting because your mom just died, this person who raised you who poured so much of herself into you and then you poured that same self back into her, and now she's gone forever, and you're sad and you have a one way ticket to europe, and this hot sweet sad wet pathetic boy who is maybe a little bit in love with you. he's here in your apartment, and you don't want to make things worse for yourself or for him by watching his heart break, and so you just go, and you don't ever come back.

[aew-kun-age-regression]

David (my favourite) StimBoard!!!

[theclowncarcircus]

Caregiver! Price who isn't as strict as you'd expect, except for with routine. Morning routine, night routine, nap times, mealtimes, and clean ups, he's on top of it all. He knows his boys need and do well with routine, so he makes sure to keep one. Also a big fan of sticker charts and treasure box treats.

Caregiver! Price who has learned how to cook at least minimally so his babies aren't eating microwave meals and MREs. He knows a few basic casseroles, and how to cook up veggies so that they get eaten.

Caregiver! Price who is great at soothing his boys no matter what. Nightmares? He's singing a lullaby and letting them cuddle in bed with him. Trauma induced regression? He's there for it with no judgment. Baby being just plain fussy? They get swaddled up and rocked in his rocking chair, being told a story.

Caregiver! Price who knows what it feels like to want love, attention, and care, so he works to provide that for his boys when they regress. He makes sure to have one on one outings with them. Making sure it's within their interests. Art classes at the library for Soap, puppet shows for Simon, and interactive museums for Gaz.

Caregiver! Price that never uses call signs or even real names with his boys. When they are little, it's either a shortened version of their name or a nickname.

Caregiver! Price who can't help but spoil his little ones a little A LOT, with toys they never had or lost during childhood, coloring books, movies, and even stuffed animals (the big ones that are practically body pillows) his boys can't have the full comfort of a nursery, and it's hard to find onesies that fit, so he makes up for it anyway he can.

Caregiver! Price, who was never able to settle down and have kids, realized that having his boys to take care of was just as fulfilling.

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

Smut Challenge 2025, Fic Six: Mommy Kink with James

Pairings: James Potter x reader Summary: James has a rough day, but you're always there for him. Tags: fem!reader, disabled!reader, reader has cerebral palsy, depictions of muscle tension and balance challenges, mommy kink, handjob, breastplay, nipple sucking, sub!james, praise kink, needy!james, soft dominance, emotional vulnerability, comfort through touch, no use of y/n, emotionally intimate smut, reader-led intimacy, physical caregiving as erotic grounding, some hurt/comfort, james' rough day unraveling into catharsis, all the sex is aftercare really Word count: 1.7k words. Smut Challenge 2025 Masterlist

The door creaks open, and James steps into the room. He looks worn down—his glasses are askew, and his hair is dishevelled as though he's spent the day running his hands through it in frustration. At the sight of you sitting on the edge of the bed, your hand gripping the mattress for stability, something in his expression softens.

Without a word, he crosses the distance between you, mindful of the way you shift slightly to brace yourself for his touch. He sinks to his knees, resting his forehead against your thigh with a sigh that seems to drain the tension from his body. His eyes close, two lines of relief creasing his face as if this simple act is all the solace he needs.

"Oh, baby," you murmur, your fingers finding his hair, threading through the strands and lightly scratching at his scalp. "Rough day?"

A nod is the only response, but it's enough. His body leans into your touch, his hands steadying you instinctively, knowing the slight tremor in your fingers isn't hesitation but effort. One hand wraps around your knee while the other finds purchase on your thigh, holding onto you like a lifeline. He knows, without doubt, that you will be his sanctuary, his shelter from whatever storms rage outside these four walls. You always have been.

"I missed you," he whispers, the words barely audible, a plea carried on the barest breath of sound.

Lifting his chin gently, you force him to meet your gaze. Behind the lenses of his glasses, his eyes are wide, brimming with an unspoken desperation that tugs at something primal within you. He looks lost, untethered from the world around him, and in this moment, you are his only anchor.

"I know, Jamie," you reply softly, your thumb tracing the curve of his cheekbone in a soothing rhythm. "I'm here now. Mommy's got you."

He exhales a shaky breath, his grip on you tightening as if to affirm the reality of your presence. The name seems to work its magic, tension leaching from his rigid frame. His head drops forward, forehead pressing into the softness of your abdomen. He inhales deeply, each breath steadier than the last, drawing comfort from your scent alone.

You adjust your position carefully, guiding him onto the bed, taking care to move in a way that keeps your balance steady. He follows your lead, settling between your legs as you lean back against the pillows. His hands, usually so steady, tremble where they rest at your waist, his touch gentle as if he's aware of how your muscles sometimes tense involuntarily, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hitching with every inhale.

"Such a good boy," you murmur, your fingers flying over the buttons of your blouse. The fabric parts, revealing your lacy bra underneath. James's eyes widen at the sight, his breath hitching in his throat.

"You've been working so hard, haven't you?" Your voice is a soft caress against his skin, coaxing him further into this world of need and desire. A whimper escapes his lips, the sound almost drowned out by the pounding of his heart.

James nods, his body quivering with anticipation. But you want more from him—you want his words, his submission vocalised and wrapped around the intimacy of this moment.

"Use your words, love," you remind him gently and you fully remove your shirt and bra.

"Yes," he whispers, his voice ragged with need. "I worked so hard for you, Mommy. I need you."

"I know you do," you reply, your tone soothing even as it's laced with promise. You draw him closer, fingers threading through his hair and tugging just enough to make him gasp. He leans into the touch, not resisting now but rather seeking it, craving the contact that both rewards and controls him.

Your other hand guides his face towards your chest, your heartbeat steady against his cheek. The fabric of your blouse is smooth under his lips, every breath he takes filled with your scent. There's a pause, drawn out until it thrums with anticipation, before you speak again. "And good boys get their rewards, don't they?"

A low moan escapes him, the sound muffled against your skin as he nuzzles into the curve of your breast, pressing a kiss there before his lips close over your nipple. His tongue flickers out, tracing the sensitive peak, and he sucks gently, drawing it into the warmth of his mouth. The action is instinctual, driven by a primal need for connection.

"There you go, baby," you murmur, your fingers threading through his hair, guiding him closer still. "Mommy's got you. Just take what you need."

He shudders at your words, his grip on your waist tightening. He presses himself against you, his warmth grounding you, the pressure a welcome distraction from the ever-present stiffness in your limbs. His mouth moves with greater urgency now, each pull sending tremors through his body that echo in yours. Soft whimpers vibrate against your skin, the sound raw with vulnerability, his desire laid bare.

His shoulders lose their rigidity, the tension seeping from his muscles as he matches his breathing to yours, his fingers tracing over your arm where the muscles sometimes tighten unpredictably. He focuses on the warmth spreading from your touch, the taste of your skin, the way your fingers thread through his hair, grounding him in the reality of the moment.

"That's it, Jamie," you whisper, your voice a soothing balm over his frayed nerves. "You're doing so well for me."

A whimper escapes his lips, his hips bucking slightly in search of friction. You silence him with a tender stroke to his hair, your hands then trailing lower, tracing the line of his pants until they find the growing hardness within.

"Such a needy boy," you murmur, and his breath hitches as you palm him through the fabric, a gasp ripping from his throat when you apply just the slightest pressure.

"Please," he whimpers, the word barely more than a breathless plea. His hips shift toward your touch, seeking the relief that only you can provide. "Please, Mommy."

"Shh," you coo, your fingers deftly working to unbuckle his belt. "I've got you."

The buckle of his belt comes undone, the soft click making him squiver in anticipation. The ache in his lower body intensifies as you slide your hand beneath the fabric of his trousers, and when your fingers finally close around his hardness, it's like an electric shock. He sucks in a sharp breath, a muffled moan escaping against your skin.

"That's it," you murmur, your voice a soothing balm over the heat of his desire. You begin to move your hand, slow and deliberate, coaxing the pleasure from him with every stroke. "Mommy's taking care of you. Just be good for me."

He responds to your command, hips bucking gently into your touch even as he returns his attention to your breast. His lips fasten around the hard peak, his tongue flickering over the sensitive nub, the intensity of his arousal reflected in every fevered kiss and nip. Each stroke of your hand, each whispered word of encouragement, sends him spiralling further into the abyss. HHis grip on you tightens, fingers pressing into your skin with just enough force to counteract the subtle tremor in your arm, as if grounding both of you at once.

His mouth never leaves your breast, the rhythm of his sucking growing more frantic as he seeks the release only you can grant him. And you are all too willing to oblige, taking him deeper into the realms of pleasure with every stroke, every squeeze, every whispered promise of ecstasy.

Your hand moves with deliberate slowness, each stroke designed to draw out this exquisite torment. You can feel James unravelling beneath you, his control slipping away like sand through an hourglass. His breath hitches, a small whimper escaping him, and his hips press up into your touch, chasing the pleasure that threatens to consume him.

"You're doing so well for me, sweetheart," you coo, your voice dripping with approval. "So pretty when you're like this—so desperate for Mommy's touch."

His breathing becomes more labored, his body tensing, and you recognize the way his muscles strain—different from yours, yet familiar in its raw need for control. His hands tighten in your hair, pulling you closer even as his whimpers grow in volume and desperation. His hips lose their rhythm, instead bucking erratically against your touch. He knows he's close—too close—but it's too late to pull back now. Not with your hand driving him forward and your voice spurring him on.

A whimper breaks free, high and keening, and his breaths come in ragged gasps against your skin. Each one is a testament to the pleasure you've instilled in him, a silent declaration of the control you hold over his senses.

"Come for me, baby," you whisper, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Let go for Mommy."

And with a muffled cry against the swell of your breast, he does—tremors wracking his body as pleasure consumes him. His grip on you tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as if you are the only thing anchoring him to reality. His mouth remains latched onto your nipple, sucking in shallow breaths that match the erratic rhythm of his heart.

"Shh," you soothe, stroking his hair, pressing soft kisses against his damp forehead. "You're okay, love. You did so well for me."

James' body gradually relaxes against yours, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the contours of your arm, feeling the places where your muscles hold their own kind of tension. He nuzzles into the valley between your breasts, each exhale warming your skin. You press a soft kiss to his forehead, your fingers still delicately tracing patterns on his back.

"Thank you," he whispers, the words barely more than a breath against your skin. His voice is frail, like the last leaf clinging to a tree in autumn, but the relief in his tone is palpable—tangible proof of the comfort you bring.

Your thumb sweeps across his forehead, pushing back damp strands of hair while your other hand continues the soothing rhythm against his back. "Always, my love," you murmur, bending your head to press a kiss to his temple. "Mommy's always here for you."

[monimccoythings]

Random headcanons of Alastor and his child!reader

This will mix headcanons from both the living and the afterliving times.

Tw: Controlling behavior, implied cannibalism, references to murder.

This is not proof read so I apologize for any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Your home is always filled with music. Be it the radio, a record player or him singing. There's always someone playing a tune. Even now at the hotel you can always find him in one of the common rooms humming a song or with his cathedral radio on.

Loves dancing with you, you'll be helping him cook and next thing you know he is swirling you around the room, music mixing with your combined laughter.

From a very young age, he will teach you to love the radio. He is immensely proud of his job (the legal one) and wants to share it with you.

Likes to treat your wounds and illness the traditional way, just like he used to when you were alive. You got a scratch? He is cleaning it for you and bandaging it up. You are down with something? He'll wrap you in blankets with a hot water bottle and feed you old family remedies and warm soup. If the wound or illness is way too severe to his liking, he will immediately make it go away with a snap of his fingers, otherwise he just likes to act like your caregiver and mother hen you.

Really loves to pull the 'single hardworking dad' act that makes the mothers and female teachers at your school swoon. He is not really interested in pursuing anything further with them, but boy, does he enjoy the attention.

He likes to check on you while you are sleeping. Sometimes he just stays there, quietly watching you sleep, his ever present smile growing bigger as a sense of pride fills his chest.

Lots of dad jokes, I think he's the only one who could pull it off and have everyone laugh. It goes with his radio host charisma and personality.

He does your hair. This man has singlehandledly researched and become well versed in the art of braiding hair. Braids, pigtails, or just brush it, you call it, you got it.

Alastor loves control and having power over people, he is the kind of dad that will subtly talk you out of doing something he doesn't approve of, just using his inmense charms and smooth talking skills to convince you into thinking this was your decision after doing some critical thinking. "Cher, I don't think you should do X, how about you do Y instead?" "I'm sure your friend is too busy to hang out today, why don't we go to the ice cream shop?" He won't ever put you down or make you feel bad about anything, but if you are deviating for the path that he has already set for you (the safe path) he will immediately persuade you to go back to the right way, his way. In Hell that aspect of him has become a million times worse, since he has already lost you once and has become someone with many dangerous enemies who wouldn't hesitate to use you to get back at him. His overprotectiveness and controlling behavior skyrocket when he becomes a demon, which eventually will come back to bite him in the ass.

Doesn't like having anyone question about your biological parents. He is your parent. You don't need anybody else.

Alastor is not fond of physical affection, unless he is the one initiating it. But, since he has had you since you were a baby, he has mostly grown used to your touch. He has become proficient enough in detecting your moods that he knows exactly when you are going to need a hug, a kiss or some other kind of physical comfort, so he can get ahead and start the contact first. He admits that one of his favorite ways nowadays to show affection to you is ruffling your fluffy hair, lightly tickling your ears, his eyes fill with joy when your ears get all twitchy.

Your room back at the hotel is a carbon copy of the one you had back when you were alive, but bigger, and with a private old timey bathroom. Alastor likes to come in whenever he pleases, he is the unliving embodiment of "I'm respecting your privacy by knocking but asserting my authority as your parent by coming in anyway". He even said so once. Word by word.

You can't stand Mimzy. Sorry, it's a fact, she always gets your name wrong and only comes by if she needs something from your dad. She seems to not be very fond of you either, can't understand why in Hell Alastor would waste his time so willingly just to take care of a snooty brat that ain't even his. But your father seems to like her enough, so you swallow up your critics.

When he was alive, and came back from a 'hunt', he always brought a little memorabilia for you, maybe some old watch, a fancy toy or trinket the victim had on them at that moment. Whatever little thing that wasn't too incriminating and pretty enough to be worthy of you. Now that you know the truth, you can't stop wondering with dread if every little thing he gifts you belonged once to a poor tormented soul that crossed in his path.

Might had fed you human remians in his stews. He utterly denies it, claiming that he would never do that to your delicate stomach. But the suspicious way his eyes quickly dart around the room, makes you think otherwise. It was the Great Depression after all, food was scarce. You'd rather not dwell too much on it or you will never eat anything ever again.

He is a monster, and it pained you to have been so blind all these years, but even after discovering his true nature, the only thing you could say about his parenting before that terrible night of the discovery, was that he was an excellent dad, a tad bit overbearing and overprotective, but a great parent nonetheless.

[isfjmel-phleg]

Twenty-first-century adaptations and retellings of The Secret Garden can usually translate into a contemporary setting an emotionally neglected and unloved girl who consequently dislikes people and is unable to connect with them. They can handle a good-hearted boy who has an extraordinary way with animals and plants.

They tend to have no idea how to directly translate an emotionally neglected and unwanted boy who has intense illness anxiety and probably some degree of depression and has been pathologically overindulged. Colin or his equivalent is inevitably significantly altered in ways that the other characters aren't. This has included:

giving him different mental conditions (clinical depression, panic disorder, ADHD)

giving him legitimate health problems that justify the anxiety (asthma, severe allergies, diabetes, a heart condition)

attributing his condition to grief for a lost parent he was close to

gender-flipping him (more often than with the other characters)

making him something non-human, like an android or a ghost

suggesting health problems but being so vague about it that it's never clear what he's actually struggling with

making his preoccupation with health an enforced projection from his father and caregivers with no agency on his part

making the apparent health problems the result of deliberate poisoning by an evil stepmother

ignoring the health issue and giving him a different arc

reducing his agency. reducing it a lot.

And some of these are interesting concepts and arcs in their own right, but they tend to miss the point of the original arc, resulting in a very different character from the original. There's a perception of Burnett's take on Colin as something that needs to be fixed and can't be updated, but this comes from an assumption that the original story is about Throwing Off the Disability. It isn't. It's about working past a fear of something that never needed to be a fear in the first place. The themes could be more translatable to the present day than they're given credit for.