#uncle nik

[snootlestheangel]

@stuffireadandenjoy

Composing a list of moments with Bailey for your enjoyment (ie the progression of your brainrot)

Bailey, who despises wearing unmatched socks, watching her father (Price) walk around in unmatched socks with absolute disgust. Price just doesn't care about that sort of thing, but Bailey is absolutely shocked about his unmatched socks. She seeks refuge behind Nik when the conversation gets brought up, only for Price to call Nik out for just not wearing socks half the time.

They're both laughing their asses off as Bailey sits pouting in the living room, not talking to them. Her little autism brain can't handle it. They're laughing out of love, she's just adorable and dramatic and they're just so happy as a family 🥰

Bailey falling asleep and using Ghost as a pillow. That's it, really

Bailey getting sick and Price using it as an excuse to not work. He's caring for his little girl, she's too sick!! Ghost is hundred percent calling bullshit but also understands. He'd do the same after all.

Ghost ends up playing his uncle role a little too seriously at one point. He just tells her something only a mother would, so she just sarcastically says "okay, mom" and it absolutely breaks Ghost. He's not sure what he's feeling about it but he's feeling and thats all he knows

As Bailey recovers and gets stronger, she starts fighting dirty when she and Soap are rough housing. She gets her revenge for the split lip incident when she slams her elbow into his nose. It starts bleeding and his eyes are watery. Gaz, Ghost, and Price are all wheeze-laughing and crying cause he got bested by Price's sweet little angel child.

Bailey of course is still so sweet that she's like "I'm sorry 🥺" but Soap is all like "No, that's good you can defend yourself". He's secretly proud of himself and her cause he had a hand in her learning defense, and just proud of how far she's come.

Price is definitely proud of his little girl. He's bringing it up at any chance he can.

Nik carrying Bailey on his back like it's no big deal. Really any of them doing that but for some reason it's especially touching for Nik to be the one. Something about Nik standing there with her on his back just acting natural is just triggers such strong cute aggression from me.

[puppymask]

I rly wanna pinpoint what exactly the breaking point was for the homo pro wrestling dreamteam situationship between Bill (Buck's dad) and Rick Ryder (Dick) was .... Being closer to each other than anyone else and basically living and sharing their lives together on the road 24/7...? I'm gonna go insane under the cut >_>

Like. Its totally a thing where they get rly close being on the road and working together and knowing each other, but then when Bill gets involved w Nikki, Dick doesn't just drop Bill cos he loves him a lot, but is like... ok... when are we getting back to Our Dream.... The Dream Team... But Bill is like look man it's the 80s. I cannot be seen having male friends I have GOT to take my chance to avoid the Rumours. If this beautiful awesome woman who could maybe kill me wants to settle down with me I think I should take it.

Dick probably would hang around for a lil while into Buck's childhood but then when he sees how Nikki is trying to "whip" Bill he gets sooo pissed. Now he says whip, but all Nikki is saying is "hey I don't think having your coke addicted pro wrestling carny weirdo bestie hanging around our toddler son."

And Dick, being the man of emotional immaturity and probably on like 3 different things, gets STEAMED thinking about Nikki trying to "control" who Bill hangs out with, but he doesn't seem to fully comprehend that being in a family means you need to keep your FAMILY safe!! Not keep your weird homo situationship with another man on the level.

Nikki never wanted a family or a husband or a kid but she's not Stupid, she knows she's obligated to keep her baby safe and so is Bill! She has her very good reasons for wanting every aspect of the business out of her life... The entire culture of the pro wrestling industry is like. Hostile to family life and stability lol. PLUS Nikki already fearing for her personal safety in the business, she's not willing to see her husband end up like Buck's uncle Dick over here.

Bill, unfortunately for Dick, is not the type of guy to disagree with his wife who keeps their home and their son safe, and he trusts Nikki knows what's best since babies and trying to be a family man scares the shit out of him. He's like, "Sorry dude I can't spend my 200$ envelope of cash from this week on blow and hookers I have to buy formula and diapers for my kid. Yeah my wife said so"

But Bill isn't a total non, he doesn't exactly love that Dick is currently jusy some Guy that sleeps on their hideaway in the basement, in his heart he feels the sadness and stress it puts on him to be torn between two halves of himself... Nikki is someone who advocates for him and sees the best in him, believes in his ability to be more than a blonde jock like everyone else sees him. Dick, though, is his partner, in business and in life. His best friend, someone who knows more about him than he does, and has always been there to hold him up when he needed to be carried. To Bill, Dick is the first person that he considered to be his other half– IN THE RING. Of course.

This is where everything sits for their inevitable huge blowout, where they go their separate ways and Buck asks every other week when he'll get to see Uncle Dick again. He misses wrestling with him on the trampoline, and misses having his cool uncle that always had his back when mom and dad were fighting. Nikki tells him to forget his stupid deadbeat uncle and that he is certainly NOT going to do anything like she and Bill did, and if he DOES wrestle it's going to be at a varsity level. But it's a hard to be raised surrounded by something like the pro wrestling industry and not have its glitz and glamour rub off on you...

Ouuhhhh how the cogs turn....

[elizanikol]

"Will you smile if I admit I was wrong?" (Klaus)

@hybridnik

Eliza did smile, then - her Uncle did know the ways to make her do so when she needed it. "I don't know, you'll have to try it out and see. But really, that's what you get for arguing comics lore with a nerd. You might be older, but they didn't invent comic books till you were like...nine hundred and fifty," she nudged his shoulder with her own. "And from what Mom's told me, I didn't know you could actually say the words I was wrong."

[potentiallyahuman]

I want a gas mask for funsies

[wholoveseggs]

Yo I’m back. Tbh half of your anon requests are me lol. Can you write something about Elijah and the reader having a family. Kids of any age maybe living in the compound with the rest of the mikaelsons? Still smut ofc but I love that episode where Elijah is with Cami at the safe house and he acts all family man fixing the fence n stuff that was hotttt

Family Man

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Life at the compound can be chaotic with kids and family running around, but Elijah wouldn't have it any other way.

♡♡ Thanks for the request wonderful @elijahstwink (everyone go check out his fics!) & anon!I Love domestic Elijah sooo much, I truly believe this would be his dream life. ♡♡

4.5k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, unfortunately I didn't make this as kinky as requested...its just very sappy and sweet, this is just a day in the life of Elijah as a devoted father and husband, pregnant!reader, uncle Klaus being precious, toddlers, hot cocoa, kittens & so much flufffffff

ps, this is pretty much a sequel to devotion...

In the early hours of the morning you were awoken by a loud snore from your husband. You rolled over to face him, chuckling a little as you watched his peaceful sleeping form. It was the first time in a long time he was finally getting the rest he deserved.

You slowly turned, carefully sliding out of bed. You tiptoed out the room and decided to go down to the kitchen to make some tea.

You loved this time of night, being in the stillness of the house, just enjoying the calmness and being able to take in the beauty of it all.

When you reached the bottom step, you heard some sniffling and cries coming from one of the rooms down the hall. You rushed to the door and opened it, and a small figure ran into your arms, clinging onto you.

"What's wrong, little one?" you asked, scooping her up.

"I had a nightmare. There were these people with sharp teeth and they were chasing me. And then you were there but you were gone. It was scary, mommy," she sobbed, her head buried in your chest.

"It's okay, sweetheart, it was just a dream. Nothing bad will happen to you. You are safe," you said, kissing her head and stroking her hair, soothing her. "Come on, let's go get something warm to drink,"

You carried her down to the kitchen and began to prepare the hot cocoa, which was her favorite. As you stood over the stove, waiting for the milk to boil, you felt her little hands rubbing your stomach.

"Mommy, when is the baby going to come out?" she asked.

"Not for a while, sweetie. It needs to grow inside my belly for a little longer," you chuckled.

"Okay," she said, looking sad. "I can't wait to meet them. Is it a girl or a boy?" she asked, looking up at you with her big, brown eyes.

"We don't know yet," you replied.

"Oh," she replied, disappointed. "I hope it's a girl. I already have a brother, I want a sister," she said.

"We'll just have to wait and see," you smiled, placing the mug of hot cocoa down on the counter. "Here, drink up, before it gets cold," you said.

She hopped off the chair and held the mug with both her hands, sipping away. You sipped on your tea as well, feeling relaxed. You loved these quiet moments with her, and you would cherish every one of them, since she was growing up so fast.

"So, what was this dream about, princess?" you asked, wanting to know more.

"T-there were people with sharp teeth and they were after me," she said.

"And why do you think that was?" you asked, not wanting her to feel afraid, but curious about what caused this dream.

"I think I saw it in a movie or something," she said, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "An-and uncle Nik showed me his sharp teeth, but he promised he would never bite me, only use them to protect me," she said.

"Oh, did he now?" you laughed.

"Yeah, but then he bit my teddy bear," she said, giggling. "he said my teddy was a threat!"

"That sounds like something uncle Nik would do," you chuckled.

"Can I sleep with you and daddy tonight?" she asked, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Of course, sweetheart," you replied.

"Thank you, mommy," she said, smiling and hugging your legs.

"Come on, let's go to bed," you said, picking her up. She wrapped her arms around your neck and laid her head on your shoulder as you walked back up to your bedroom.

You placed her in the middle of the bed, and she quickly snuggled up against Elijah, her head on his chest. She loved having his attention. She was a daddy's girl through and through.

You slid back into bed, lying down on your side and Elijah instantly pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you both.

"Is my little one alright?" he asked sleepily, his eyes still closed.

"I had a bad dream, daddy," she sniffled, curling up against him.

"It's alright, my love. Everything will be alright," he said, kissing her head and soothing her. "No bad dreams will get you while I'm here," he said, pulling the blanket up and tucking her in.

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek, cuddling him as she drifted off to sleep. He stroked her hair, and her eyes grew heavy. Soon she was sound asleep, and he placed his hand on your stomach, his precious family safe in his arms.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Exhausted. Our littlest one is keeping me up, constantly moving and kicking," you sighed, feeling drained.

"Let's hope it's not like this for the whole pregnancy," he chuckled.

"Don't even joke about that," you groaned.

He gave you a kiss on the head, your daughter snuggled in between the two of you, and you finally managed to get a few more hours of sleep.

Elijah was woken by the sunlight shining through the curtains, and he smiled at the sight of his beautiful family.

His daughter was still cuddled up to him, her head buried in his chest, she stirred slightly and yawned.

"Do you want breakfast?" he asked, his hand on her back.

"Yes," she mumbled.

"Hmmm what would you and your brother like? Gruel? Porridge?" he asked, teasing her.

"Eww no," she groaned, loudly.

"Alright, alright, pancakes it is, let's go wake your brother and the rest of the family," he said, chuckling.

"Can we get chocolate chips on the pancakes?" she asked as he carried her out the room.

"I don't know, maybe your brother wants blueberries, but we'll ask," he said, tickling her.

His son and his niece were both awake and running around, and Klaus was chasing him, laughing, the children giggling as they hid under the dining table.

"Oh, look who's here. Little Rebekah is up," Klaus teased.

"No! That's not my name!" she pouted, crossing her arms.

"Yes, it is," Elijah chuckled.

"Nooo," she whined. "It's just Bex," she said.

"Alright, alright, Bex it is," Klaus chuckled, patting his head.

"Pancakes for breakfast, anyone?" Elijah asked.

"Yes, yes, yes," the children yelled.

"Chocolate chips?" Klaus asked, grinning.

"Yes!!!" the kids screamed, all jumping up and down in excitement.

"Alright, I'll make them, the last one to the kitchen is a rotten egg," Klaus said, speeding off.

The kids squealed and ran after Klaus, and Elijah chuckled and went back upstairs to check on you.

You were sound asleep, your hair fanned across the pillow. He laid down next to you, placing his hand on the swell of your stomach, smiling and talking to the baby.

"How are you, littlest one? Have you been keeping mommy up all night?" he asked, his dimples on full display.

"Yes, they have," you sighed.

"That's my job," he smirked, leaning in and giving you a kiss. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asked.

"I'll go eat later. I just want to stay here for a little longer," you replied, holding his hand on your stomach.

Elijah hummed softly and pulled you close, kissing your head and rubbing your back. He loved the way you melted into his touch.

"How is Bex?" you asked.

"She's completely forgotten about her nightmare, Klaus is making breakfast for all the kids," he chuckled.

"They have him wrapped around their little fingers," you giggled.

"He has grown soft, it's true," Elijah said.

"Bex told me he bit her teddy bear," you laughed.

"Yes, well, that doesn't surprise me," he chuckled, his lips brushing against yours.

You sighed happily and wrapped your arms around him, feeling complete bliss in his embrace.

"What would you like to do today?" he asked.

"Stay right here with you," you replied, running your hand through his hair, making him hum in delight. You were feeling a bit needy this morning, the pregnancy hormones making you want him all the time.

"I think that can be arranged," he smirked.

You grinned and leaned in, kissing him slowly, deepening the kiss. He moaned, and rolled over, pressing you into the mattress, making sure not to put any weight on your stomach.

He loved your pregnant state, the way your skin glowed, your eyes sparkled and the way you moaned his name made him crazy. He couldn't keep his hands off you, he wanted to ravish you day and night.

He thought he knew all of his kinks, but this one took him by surprise. When you were first pregnant with Henry it was like something in his brain clicked. The possessiveness, the lust, the way his cock ached to be inside you, he was lost.

Henry was a miracle, he didn't quite know how the magic worked. You tried to explain it to him once, your witch ancestry, how the moon played a part, but all he could think about was fucking you senseless, filling you up, and breeding you.

You were the perfect partner, and an absolute warrior, but nothing turned him on more than seeing you in this submissive, almost docile state. You were his wife, his goddess, and his greatest treasure, and he wanted nothing more than to please you day and night.

His hands went to your soft, full breasts, squeezing and kneading them, making you whimper and moan. He captured your nipple between his lips, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, his other hand moving your nightdress up your thighs.

"Elijah," you sighed, his fingers brushing over your wet panties, making you gasp and moan.

"Is my beautiful wife needy this morning?" he smirked, his fingers slipping past the lace.

"Yes," you panted, the pad of his index finger teasing your clit, making your body tremble.

"Good," he hummed, his mouth on your neck, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wet heat.

You were both so lost in pleasure that neither of you heard the sound of Bex running up the stairs, Klaus not far behind her.

Luckily the door was locked, Elijah knew better than that with a house full of children.

"Daddy? Mommy?" she asked softly, knocking on the door.

"One minute, my love," Elijah called, his voice strained, trying to keep himself from ravishing you.

"Okay," she said, not leaving, but sitting down outside the door.

"Come back downstairs Bex, your mom and dad are a bit busy at the moment," Klaus chuckled, his voice low.

"Are they playing hide and seek?" she asked.

"Something like that," he replied.

"Can we play after?" she asked.

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Now come on, let's finish our pancakes, you don't want Henry to eat them all," he chuckled, lifting her up and taking her back downstairs.

Elijah looked down at your flushed face, laughing at the situation.

"You are so mean," you groaned, pushing him off you.

"Mean? I was just getting started," he chuckled.

"I think our daughter needs us, and Henry has probably eaten all the pancakes by now," you laughed, getting up and smoothing out your dress.

"I'll finish what I started tonight," he smirked.

"Don't get your hopes up," you chuckled, kissing his cheek and getting dressed.

Elijah watched your every move, the way you walked, the glow on your skin, and how the dress clung to the curve of your stomach. You looked ethereal. He was completely mesmerized, and completely smitten.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror, the dress a little too tight, the buttons straining against your swollen breasts.

"We are going to have to get you new dresses," he chuckled, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you.

"This was my favorite," you pouted.

"We'll find you something that fits, don't worry," he said, kissing your shoulder.

"My back is killing me," you groaned, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"Let me try something," he said, his hands dipping under your belly and lifting the bump, and you immediately felt relief. "Better?" he whispered against your skin.

You let out a happy groan and leaned into him, letting him hold you. His hands were gentle, his touch making the tension and aches melt away.

"Thank you," you sighed.

"You are very welcome," he hummed.

"Let's go eat, I'm absolutely starving," you laughed, kissing him and taking his hand.

"Let's," he smiled.

When the two of you entered the dining room, Bex squealed and jumped out of her seat, running towards Elijah.

"Daddy I saved you a pancake, see, here it is," she said, holding it up.

"That's very sweet of you, darling," he said, bending down and picking her up.

She fed him the pancake, giggling and laughing, and Klaus was grinning from ear to ear, and he handed you a plate filled with an assortment of fruit, knowing it was your favorite.

"Thank you," you smiled, sitting down at the table, feeling your stomach rumble.

Hope was sitting with Henry, and they were coloring on their plates, syrup and chocolate spread everywhere, their laughter filling the room.

Bex was still cuddled up to Elijah, and his hand was on your stomach, and he was feeding you pieces of fruit, smiling at you.

"Your birthday is coming up little Bekah, what do you want as a present?" Klaus asked, ruffling her hair.

"Hmmm I don't know," she replied, deep in thought.

"Anything you want, sweetheart," Elijah smiled.

"Can we get a puppy?" Henry asked, excitedly.

"Not until you're old enough to take care of it," Elijah replied, ruffling his hair.

"What about a kitten?" Klaus asked, raising his eyebrow.

"I love kitties!" Hope squealed.

"Yes, yes, yes!" the children yelled.

"I'll have to think about it," Elijah chuckled.

"Please dad! It's all I want for my birthday," Bex begged, her big brown eyes looking at him, her little lip pouting.

"Don't let her pull that face, Elijah, it's not fair," Klaus laughed.

"Alright, alright, you can have a kitten," he replied, smiling at his little girl.

She squealed and threw her arms around him, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"I promise I'll take care of it, daddy," she smiled.

"I'm sure you will," he replied, smiling and looking at you.

Klaus could see the exhaustion on your face, and the way you rubbed your stomach. You were tired and he could sense it, he knew you needed a break and some alone time with Elijah.

"Why don't we go out and play, little ones," he said, scooping up the children. "Let's all go to the park, we can even invite uncle Kol and aunt Rebekah," he suggested.

"Yay, yay, yay," the kids cheered.

"That sounds like a good idea," you replied, yawning and stretching your arms.

"Let's go, let's go," he said, wrangling the kids out of the compound.

Once they were gone, Elijah got up and started cleaning up the mess everyone had made. The compound was bursting at the seams with his family, and it was never quiet, but he enjoyed it, seeing the children run around and play, their laughter and their love filling the rooms.

You leaned back in your chair, admiring the sight of your husband working, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair falling over his forehead.

"You are gorgeous," you sighed, making him look up from the sink.

"As are you," he smirked.

"I can't believe you agreed to get Bex a kitten," you laughed.

"She can be very persuasive," he chuckled, drying his hands and coming to sit next to you.

"She has you wrapped around her finger," you smiled, cupping his cheek.

"Like I am not the same with her mother," he laughed.

"You have a point there," you grinned, kissing him.

He smiled against your lips, his hand moving down your body, resting on your stomach, letting out a contented sigh.

You mind wandered to all the things that needed to be done for the kids and around the house, you also hadn't even started preparing the nursery. You felt overwhelmed and the hormones weren't helping. On top of all that you had a party coming up.

"Stop thinking out loud," Elijah chuckled, pulling you closer.

"I can't help it, there is just so much to do," you groaned, burying your head in the crook of his neck. "I'm already behind, the baby will be here soon and I still haven't gotten anything ready."

"We still have a few months, everything will be fine, love. We will get the nursery ready, and the party will be wonderful, I'm sure of it," he replied, kissing your forehead.

His reassurances didn't help your worries, and you knew you were being unreasonable, but the stress was starting to take its toll.

"And now we have to go find a kitten, I don't even know where to start," you sighed, shaking your head.

"We can look online, we can go to a shelter, there's plenty of options," he replied, stroking your hair.

He was always so patient, so understanding, and you had no idea how he stayed so calm. You felt like you were going crazy.

"Do you even want a kitten?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I prefer them over dogs, although their hair does get everywhere," he chuckled, cupping your cheek. "They are excellent little predators, great for catching the mice that are running around this old place," he smirked.

"You're not wrong, the mice are awful," you laughed, remembering the time you were down in the wine cellar and one of them ran across your foot.

"Why don't you go rest, my love? I will clean up here and join you upstairs," he suggested.

You nodded and yawned, standing up and heading towards the stairs, Elijah's eyes on you the entire time.

The moment you got to the bed and laid down, your eyes closed and you were fast asleep.

When you woke up you heard soft hammering coming from the other room, and you went to investigate, finding Elijah, shirtless and sweaty, fixing the nursery.

"I told you not to start without me," you sighed, crossing your arms and leaning against the door.

He looked over his shoulder, smiling at the sight of you, the sunlight coming in through the window and making you glow.

"It needed to be done. I'm almost finished," he replied, standing up and putting the crib together.

"You've been busy," you laughed, walking over and running your hands over the white, wooden furniture. He hand painted the walls and assembled everything, and you felt tears prickle at your eyes.

"It's beautiful," you sighed, looking around.

"Are you crying? Don't cry, darling," he said, pulling you close, your face pressed against his chest.

"I can't help it, these stupid hormones," you sniffled.

"It's alright," he laughed, stroking your hair.

You sighed and pulled away, taking in the nursery. There was a rocking chair and a bookshelf, filled with all the children's books the two of you had collected over the years.

"It looks wonderful," you said, smiling and wiping away your tears.

"Now, what would my lovely wife like to do for the rest of the afternoon? We have the place to ourselves, so I was thinking we could make good use of that large tub in our bathroom," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"You read my mind," you grinned.

You followed him back into your room, watching him fill up the tub with warm water, pouring in some bubble bath.

"Get undressed, darling," he smiled, taking his pants off and getting in the tub, moaning at the sensation of the water against his skin.

You slowly peeled off your dress, feeling a little self-conscious about your changing body. Here was your husband, eternally chiseled, and there you were, round and swollen.

"Come, let me take care of you," he whispered, seeing your hesitation.

You slipped in next to him, the water and bubbles a nice contrast to the heat of the day.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest, placing his hands on the swell of your stomach.

"There, doesn't that feel nice?" he hummed.

"Very nice," you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and relaxing.

His hands roamed over your skin, his lips brushing over the curve of your neck.

"I've missed having you all to myself," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

"Mmm," was all you could say, too relaxed and content to form words.

He gently cupped your breasts, the pads of his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you whimper and moan.

"Eli," you sighed, his touch sending shivers through your body.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice breathy.

You turned your head and looked at him, his gaze filled with lust and desire.

"Do you want to continue this on our bed?" You asked, your voice sultry.

"I'd love to," he replied, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk.

He helped you out of the tub, wrapping a towel around your body. Before suddenly scooping you up in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom and laying you down.

"I can't wait until I'm not this enormous," you sighed, looking down at your swollen belly.

"You're not enormous, you're beautiful, and absolutely radiant," he replied, hovering over you, his hand gently resting on your stomach.

You couldn't help but smile, and the tears started rolling down your cheeks.

"Don't cry again, my love," he chuckled.

"I can't help it! Just ignore me," you said, wiping the tears away.

"As if that is possible," he laughed.

He kissed your forehead, moving his way down your body, placing his hands on your hips, his lips pressing soft kisses against the curve of your stomach.

"Elijah, you don't have to do that," you whispered, feeling a little shy.

"But I want to," he replied, kissing his way down, spreading your legs.

"Oh," was all you could say, his tongue swirling over your clit, one hand on your inner thigh, the other resting on your stomach.

He hummed and moaned, the vibrations making you gasp, and arch your back. He could tell you were sensitive, and he was gentle, taking his time.

You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging a little, making him moan and pick up the pace.

" 'lijah," you panted, feeling the pleasure coil in your core.

You couldn't even see him over the swell of your stomach, but you could feel him, and the noises he was making were sending you into overdrive.

"Fuck, don't stop," you gasped, the orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded.

Elijah was enjoying himself, the taste of you on his tongue, the noises you were making, and the sight of you coming apart, was driving him crazy.

You tugged on his hair, pulling his face away, the sensations becoming too much, and he crawled up your body, kissing your stomach as he moved.

"Did you enjoy that, darling?" He asked, kissing you and tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Mmm yes, very much," you hummed, pushing on his chest so he laid back.

He watched you move, a smirk on his face, his pupils blown. You sat on his thighs, stroking him, seeing his abs tense and relax, and he let out a long, deep moan.

"You are such a good father and husband, always going above and beyond for us," you said, leaning down and licking his length. "Let me show you how much I appreciate you,"

You leaned down and teased his head with your tongue, enjoying the string of curses that came tumbling from his mouth.

A soft hum escaped you as you slowly, and carefully, sucked on the head, teasing and tasting.

"Love, you are exquisite," he groaned, burying his fingers in your hair.

You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, letting him move at the pace he desired. All you wanted to do was please him, you loved when his voice would crack from pleasure and the way his fingers would tug on your hair.

"Come here," he said, cupping your cheek.

You pulled off of him with a pop, moving to sit on top of him, kissing him and grinding against his length.

"Mmm, I could do this forever," you hummed, biting his bottom lip and tugging.

He ran his hands up and down your back, nibbling at your shoulder, suckling marks into your skin.

Your swell was pressed against his abs, and he could feel every slight movement, enjoying the sight of you rolling your hips.

He guided you down onto his cock, the sheets bunched up around the two of you, and he rolled his hips, his hands gripping your ass.

"You are stunning," he murmured, kissing the valley between your breasts.

His lips brushed over your nipples, sucking, his teeth grazing them, his groans vibrating through your body.

"Eli- stop, they are too sensitive," you panted, running your nails over his skin, leaving bright red scratches.

"Sorry, love," he replied, grinning at the sting of your nails.

He did most of the work, gently rocking you in a steady rhythm, and the two of you moaned, the pleasure coursing through your bodies, his lips brushing your neck.

It was a slow, hot and steamy fuck, you felt like your body was on fire, the sweat and heat radiating off the two of you.

You leaned forward a little, allowing Elijah to get a little more friction, his hips moving faster, the both of you panting and moaning.

"Ah- Elijah, I'm-," you panted against his lips.

You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you came undone, clenching around him.

Elijah followed suit, the sensation of your orgasm bringing him to the edge.

He cupped the back of your neck, bringing you down for a kiss, and the two of you hummed, content and sated, basking in the afterglow.

"I wish we could stay like this," you sighed, nuzzling against him.

He laughed, and gently rolled you onto your side, pulling out of you and tucking you against his chest, both of you smiling like idiots.

"I love you," he said, stroking your hair.

"I love you too," you whispered, resting your head on his arm, letting the world melt away for just a few minutes.

Elijah watched you drift off to sleep, a small smile on his face. He kissed your forehead and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being next to you.

It was days like these that made him wonder what he did to deserve it. That perhaps there was some sort of higher power that had guided him to you, that brought him such profound peace and happiness after centuries of darkness.

You mumbled and cuddled up against him, he placed his hand on your belly, rubbing it with his thumb, thinking about how lucky he was.

He was living a life he never thought he would have, a family of his own, one he created. He didn't know what was waiting for him after he was done with this life, but he hoped you would be there with him.

In the next life, and all the ones after that.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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I've gotten a few dm's about my tags not working (yay) so let me know if its still a problem, I just re-tagged all of you so hopefully that solved it ♡

Also! If you wish to be removed from the tag list just send me a dm, you won't hurt my feelings (it's okay if you got sick of me ~lol) I don't wish to hold you hostage ♡

[cod-dump]

Teen!Ghost AU but they're adults.

___

Simon is in touch with his brother Tommy and even lived with him for a period in France for school.

He's in touch with Kyle and Farah, of course. Constantly filling him in on his life out of country. He's modelling, handsome face and all. They tease him but they're proud of him.

Simon keeps calling John and Nik to talk about school, about how his mom is doing. Riley is old now but still his good boy.

He drifted apart from Johnny due to school, Simon didn't see long distance working out. He still misses the goofy Scottish boy across the street.

He talks with Alejandro, his best friend is doing well for himself and determined to take care of his dad and aunt. Him and Rudy are still going strong.

Farah is seeing a girl, she won't say much about her. Simon thinks she's embarrassed because she's seeing a girl Simon said she would end up with.

Kyle and Alex are still going, Simon demands a fall wedding in his honor. Kyle is thinking about it genuinely.

John is still working but more of a desk job now. He always picks up when Simon calls, he has to know how his boy is doing.

Nik is still doing his work, making money in ways no one really wants to know. He insists on Simon coming home for breaks and holidays. Simon can't say no.

He's gone home several times now, Johnny was in Scotland. He missed him.

Simon is a professional model, his brother gets married and they're expecting their first child. He's so excited to be an uncle.

He visits home, Farah picking him up from the airport so they have extra time to talk.

He gets home, smiling when Riley comes out to see him, he's taking him home to France soon. He wants his old boy to spend time with his mom.

He likes sitting outside and just breathing in the night air. That's when a man approaches him from across the street. Same sweet eyes, of course he kept the stupid haircut.

They had a lot to catch up on.

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

I'm all for the use of non-gendered language and options for non-binary people, I just want them to make linguistic sense. "Nibling" sounds dumb. If you want a gender-neutral word for niece/nephew, it should share etymology with them. They both descend from the Proto-Indo-European root *nepot-, so there are a ton of plausible sounding options for derivations that don't call attention to themselves as neologisms.

Nepot is too visually similar to nephew, and sounds too much like the derivative nepotism, so maybe drop the p like Spanish did and go with something like nete or niete. Niete is too close to niece; nite, maybe? Or neti? Neit, neiti, neite, nit. These all look like real words, not clumsy 21st century portmanteaus like "nibling." If p and t are no good, we can go with another unvoiced stop like k. Nik, neik, nike (probably not that one), niki, neki, neke, nekie, so many possibilities, anything but "nibling."

Same thing with aunt/uncle. I've never heard a non-gendered term that sounds like something a layperson would use.

Hewhos became ewos, became avus, became avunculus, became uncle. Aunt is derived from words that mean mother; amma, amita, ante, aunt. I thought the word parent derived from the same root as paternal meaning father, but no, it's from the PIE root *pere-, mening to bring forth or produce. Sibling ultimately derives from the PIE root for self/oneself (*swe-), literally meaning same blood, related to myself, kin. "Parent's sibling" could be derived from swepere, swepar, suepar, supar, maybe something like sempar, "same parent/same source," simpar (maybe avoid anything with simp in it). Or "one source," onpar, honpar, paron, paroin, peron, peroine (from PIE *hoinom for one). I'm not thinking of germanic soundshifts, how these roots would evolve directly into English, I'm thinking broader, like how they would evolve in Latin or French to be loaned into English. If you want a neutral word that looks like it belongs with aunt and uncle, maybe something like umpar, umper, ompar, onpar, onper, onter, anything like that.

[pricegouge]

Price’s bratty angel daughter when she finds out he’s been cumming in places that are not her:

oh you cum in tissue?? you jerk off to other women because you HATE me?? oh! oh! jail for papa!!! jail for papa for One Thousand Years!!

combining these so i don't spam the dash again (sorry, all!)

cw: incest/daughter swap. spanking. dubcon/noncon fingering. bratting. pov from nik's daughter but i didn't want to name john's daughter for all my beloved daddy price fans so she's called sweetpea and i'm sorry if it ever hits the narrative like a damn bowling ball cause i know you wouldn't call your friend that, really, but this was a bit of a challenge. MDNI

you hate to see papa in a bad mood. he wears it so harshly, heavy brow and flexing fist. dark eyes glinting as he stares his friend down from across the table. you stutter through an apology, for what you're not even fully sure, and papa sends you strained sort of smile, tells you it doesn't concern you.

"and why wouldn't it?" uncle john asks, mustache twitching as he works through another bite of steak. he leers at you, decidedly ignoring the continued pouts of his own daughter continuing on behind him. "never have to take your sweet little milaya over your knee?"

papa looks like he might flip the table, frowning between his own friend and yours. "never needed to. my daughter does not speak to me like this," he gestures broadly, as if in demonstration. your friend continues to sulk.

uncle john just puffs, glares at his daughter. "sweetpea only talks to me like this because i never have, either." he waggles his eyebrows at papa, shoots you another suggestive look. "so don't get too comfortable."

the thought makes you shiver, mortified. papa mistakes it for fear and places his hand on your knee, broad palm squeezing the majority of your thigh as he tries to reassure you. it does nothing to help, your friend's insistent whining still echoing in the room. 'i don't like her. why do you even want her? what can she give you i can't?'

uncle john's date had been more than accommodating, excusing herself with a quick peck to john's cheek even as sweetpea raged, hurling insults and demands until her words petered out into sobs and she'd gotten what she'd wanted - john wrapped around her on the couch as he cooed about how the woman would never be back if sweetpea didn't want it.

papa had kept politely distant until then, calling the prices back to the table before the food went cold.

'should send you to bed without dinner,' uncle john had scoffed, but he'd loaded another helping of baby carrots onto his daughter's plate and she'd thanked him with a watery smile.

'should belt her ass, is what you should do,' papa had corrected between bites of his own steak and then it was all over but the crying. (and the pleading, and the pouting, and the -.)

wide-eyed, sweetpea and you had watched the men volley back and forth for long minutes, tension rising the more papa insisted john discipline his daughter. the more john swore you'd put your own father through the ringer if he continued to coddle you the way he did. finally, uncle john admits he can't discipline sweetpea. says it with his greasy fingers hooked under her jaw so he can smile warmly at her. she returns it, cat that got the cream, her own smile slower in coming but just as warm -

until papa says he could do it for uncle john.

it shocks you how easily uncle john defers. 'whatever you think is best.' shocks you more how he doesn't change his mind even when sweetpea begins to thrash and wail, pathetic attempts to break papa's grip making your own stomach churn.

turns out, papa thinks 20 spanks is best.

you didn't think he'd be able to do it until he's got her skirt flipped up, has yanked at her panties until they've been swallowed by her cheeks so that she has no protection from his onslaught, palms smacking harshly against her rounded bottom. he's never been like this. it makes you sick. makes you shake and sob in fear. you shout for him to stop but either he can't hear you over sweetpea's shrieks, or he doesn't care. you're not sure which prospect is worse.

uncle john stops you when you try to run from the room, arm slipping around your waist as he pulls you into his lap. "only four swats in, sweetheart. you don't wanna be here for your friend?"

swats. swats are what you aim at dog noses when they're being troublesome. swats are what kill flies. quick, tight. no real force. papa is incapable of a swat, hands too heavy and brutish. leave stinging claps of skin echoing in the air, piercing even over the sound of sweetpea's wails.

the next strike makes her sob, or maybe that's you. you turn away, try to burrow in uncle john's neck, but his fingers find your chin like they did sweetpea's earlier, tilt your head back to the display before you.

"you'll watch and you'll remember. because i know your papa, and i know enough to tell you now - you ever act like my sweetpea did today, it'll be me belts your ass, no matter how tough he acts." you want to tell him he's wrong, that papa would never let someone hurt you. but then, you know that only twenty minutes ago, sweetpea would have said the same about him. "and i'm not as nice as your papa."

and so, you watch. tears on your face and squirming, but you do. silently count with papa, in russian. curse when he asks sweetpea what number they're at and she can't answer so he starts again. it's cruel, the kind of pain that sinks under your ribs and pulls, inspects all your tender bits for the most sweetest morsels and teethes. sweetpea twitches about, skin mottling, tears and snot staining her face. she looks like a grubby little bug, like he's lifted a rock to find her squirming beneath, afraid of the sunshine.

yet still he touches her. broad strokes paint her skin, the spiky crown of fingers wrapping down into the crease of her thigh. he kneads at her occasionally, tests the tenderness of her flesh. once, you hear her breath go thin and ragged, a shaky, unmistakable exhale. his next swat lands square on the seam of her and you jolt just as much as she does, legs cricketing.

"keep misbehaving, you'll get your punishment now," uncle john warns, but you're angled wrong in his lap, and when his hand thumps threateningly against you, it's not your ass he squeezes in apology. you try to swallow the little noise it elicits, but your throat is too dry, the resulting gulp audible even to him. he just chuckles, broad palm moving to cup your mound. "unless that's what you want?"

you shake your head, but it doesn't matter. not when papa has noticed, pausing as he rubs over sweetpea's rear again, barely even looking at how she squirms beneath him. "reward her for watching. being brave. will remind your parshivets why we're here, no?"

john just chuckles, a thin breathy thing that ghosts over your temple just as his fingers trace up your thigh. "whatever you think is best," he repeats, and you try to wriggle away until papa's voice calls to you.

"milaya. look at me." you wilt when you do, his dark eyes focused entirely on you for the first time all night, making your preen even as uncle john's fingers find your cunt, his groan of approval only proving your shame. "what number are we at?"

you blink, confused, and papa just tuts, gives sweetpea a harsh swat that has her trying to crawl out of his lap, held in place by the thick arm wrapped around her waist. you want to catch her eye, see if she's okay, but she can't rip her baleful stare away from where her father sinks into you, thick fingers sliding easily through your slick.

she looks on the verge of throwing another fit. looks too fucked out and tired to bother.

"what number are we at, milaya?"

uncle john pulls a gasp from you, clever fingers hooking against your spongy wall. "i - i don't know," you stutter, and cringe when he just tuts, fingers digging cruelly into sweetpea's ass again.

"from the beginning, then."

[srslyblvck]

── drunken chaos,, klaus mikaelson

pairing: klaus mikaelson x daughter!reader

synopsis: you come home drunk, your father isn't very pleased

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE MIKAELSON ESTATE WAS a scene of mixed tension and comedy. Klaus paced the grand living room like a caged predator, muttering curses under his breath.

“She should have been back hours ago,” he growled, shooting a glare at his siblings. “Witches on the loose, and she’s out partying like it’s Mardi Gras.”

“She’s fine, Nik,” Rebekah said, lounging on the sofa with a glass of red wine. “You’re more dramatic than usual tonight. What’s she going to do? Skip home drunk and accidentally summon a hex?”

Elijah, ever composed, sat in a high-backed chair with a book. He didn’t look up as he responded, “If she doesn’t return soon, I suggest we go look for her.”

“Finally, someone sensible,” Klaus snapped.

But before any plans could be made, the front doors swung open, revealing a sight none of them expected.

Standing in the doorway was Leonard—a nervous-looking vampire with sandy blond hair and a slightly disheveled suit—carrying you like a sack of tipsy potatoes. His arm was wrapped securely around your waist as your head lolled on his shoulder, blissfully unaware of the scene you were making. Your sparkly sling purse dangled off his wrist, and in his free hand, he clutched your broken heels like a defeated soldier presenting a battle trophy.

The room fell silent.

Klaus’s mouth dropped open, his fury momentarily eclipsed by sheer disbelief. Rebekah choked on her wine, sputtering as she struggled to keep it from spilling. Elijah, ever composed, dropped his book squarely into his lap, looking entirely affronted by the sight.

“Uh…” Leonard began, his voice, high-pitched with nerves. “Hi. I, uh, brought her back?”

You stirred slightly, mumbling, “’M fine, Leonard,” before promptly giggling and going limp against his shoulder.

Klaus was the first to recover, storming across the room to snatch you from Leonard’s grasp. “Give her to me,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Leonard obeyed immediately, carefully handing you over. Klaus cradled you in his arms for all of two seconds before thrusting you toward Rebekah. “Hold her,” he barked.

Rebekah raised an eyebrow but took you without protest, holding you up as you draped yourself over her like a human scarf. “Darling, you’re heavier than you look,” she muttered, though there was an amused smile on her face.

Elijah approached with a resigned sigh, plucking your sparkly heels and sling purse from Leonard. “Why do I always get the accessories?” he murmured, eyeing the glittery bag in his hand.

You giggled at the sight, squinting at him through bleary eyes. “Uncle ’Lijah, you look so fancy holding my purse.”

“Thank you,” Elijah said dryly.

Klaus rounded on Leonard, his expression deadly. “You have exactly five seconds to explain yourself, or I’ll use your head as a centerpiece for our next family dinner.”

Leonard’s face drained of color. “S-Sir, I—uh—”

“Four.”

Leonard gulped. “We were out at the bar, and—and then these witches showed up! They were attacking people, and, uh, your daughter jumped in to—”

“She jumped in?” Klaus interrupted, his voice rising. “And what, exactly, were you doing? Standing there like a useless lump?”

“No, no!” Leonard stammered, his hands waving defensively. “I was helping! I swear! She told me to distract one of them while she handled the other two. She was amazing! Seriously, I’ve never seen anyone fight like that—”

“That’s because she’s a Mikaelson,” Klaus snarled. “And you? You’re an idiot for letting her put herself in danger!”

Leonard looked like he might faint. “She—she didn’t really give me a choice—”

“Dad, stop it!” you interjected from across the room, your voice slurred but insistent. Rebekah was barely holding you upright now.

“Stay out of this,” Klaus snapped, but you were having none of it.

“Leonard was just being nice,” you slurred, wagging a finger in your father’s direction. “You’re always so mean to him. He has great hair!”

Rebekah snorted, hiding her laughter behind her wine glass.

Klaus ignored her, turning back to Leonard. “You are not to see my daughter again. Do you understand me?”

Leonard nodded quickly, clearly eager to escape. “Crystal clear. Goodnight!” He bolted for the door, disappearing faster than a squirrel in a thunderstorm.

Klaus turned back to you, his fury reigniting. “And as for you—”

“Give me the wine,” you whined, stretching like a child reaching for a cookie jar.

Rebekah grinned, taking a long sip herself. “Not a chance.”

“Rebekah, leave,” Klaus barked, and she raised her eyebrows but complied, passing you off to him.

“You’re so grumpy,” you mumbled, poking Klaus in the chest as he held you upright. “You’re always mad. You need to chill. Take a deep breath. Do yoga.”

Elijah chuckled softly from his seat, adjusting his tie as he set your purse and shoes aside. “I must say, she does have a point.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Klaus growled.

You squinted up at him, tilting your head as you tried to focus. “You’re so tall. Like a big, angry tree.”

Rebekah reappeared briefly, smirking as she leaned against the doorframe. “She’s delightful when she’s drunk. You should let her do this more often.”

Klaus shot her a glare.

You attempted to stand, wobbling slightly. “Okay, okay. I’m going to bed.”

“You can barely walk,” Klaus muttered.

“I can totally walk,” you declared, taking a step forward—only to immediately trip over your own feet.

Before you could hit the ground, Klaus vamp-sped toward you, catching you in his arms with a sigh. “You’re going to tumble down the stairs one day, and I’ll be left to clean up the mess,” he muttered, scooping you up effortlessly.

As he carried you toward the stairs, you leaned your head back, your hair spilling over his arm as you waved dramatically at the others. “Goodnight, Aunt Bekah! Goodnight, Uncle ’Lijah!”

Rebekah raised her glass in response, grinning. Elijah simply shook his head, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

Klaus sighed as he ascended the stairs, muttering, “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me,” you replied, resting your head against his shoulder.

Despite himself, Klaus smiled. “More than you’ll ever know, love.”

[laswells-ashtray]

I'm running on caffeine and sugar but my brain is in overload.

Nikolai who is Vladimir's estranged brother.

John kills Vladimir. (Justified)

Nikolai ends up with custody of Vladimir's secret heir that he'd squirreled away and had no idea existed.

Boom.

Now they're Co-Dads to a small and extremely sassy child with an absolute killer death stare just trying to overthrow the whole nature/nurture theory so they don't end up raising Vladimir 2.0

So much potential for angst as Nik actively tries to raise his brother's child with the man who killed him (who he still loves) meanwhile trying not to mess the kid up any more than they are.

(+1000 ouch points if the kid finds out later that it was John who killed their bio father then proceeded to help raise them in some bizarre adoption situation)

John isn't a father; he has no idea how to raise a child, and he's almost positive that Sasha knows this. The little one flowers at him with eyes so familiar that he can still hear the gurgling of blood.

The little one ignores him half of the time he speaks, and he barely acknowledges Nikolai on the worst of days. He glares at every article of clothing John wears like it has personally offended him, and the one time John makes him toast, he finds it in a plant pot an hour later.

It's difficult and it puts a strain on his relationship with Nikolai, as if it isn't already on the brink. Two men who have never wanted children, raising the son of a man whom one of them had killed. It's a soap opera plotline at best.

One day, he isn't helping Sasha enough, and Nikolai is glaring at him whenever he reaches for his packet of cigarettes. Next, Nikolai is pushing him away when he tries to fetch a Fruit Shoot for the boy, and he's being sent out to go buy milk when there's a carton inside the fridge door.

It isn't until one night, when Nikolai is away for the sort of business that John can't know the details of for descriptive reasons, that a bond starts to form between him and the four-year-old.

Waking up to the sound of the door creaking open is instinct; he's wide awake and prepared to reach for the blade by the windowsill to his left. It's the shuffling of little feet and soft sniffles that alert him to the fact that the flat isn't the grounds of an invasion. It's the grounds of a little boy who's had a bad dream and is looking for his uncle Nik.

Brown eyes peer up at him from the bed, firetruck blankie in hand, and it'd be cruel not to lift the kid up so he can sit on the bed even if he could've climbed on his own.

And thus, he finds himself with a tiny Russian on his lap who's staring up at him like he could single-handedly fight away what lurks in the shadows.

"You're supposed to be asleep. I distinctly remember someone kicking off his socks and saying night night to Peanut. You wouldn't lie to the cat, would you?"

Sasha tugs his blanket up, holding it under his chin in a little fist and shakes his head. His voice is soft in a way that makes John's hands feel blood-stained, and he repeats the thought: Vladimir Makarov is better off dead.

"No, I woke up."

It seems an unwillingness to admit to nightmares is a Russian trait.

"And you thought you'd sneak in here and poke me with your pointy little fingers, hmm?"

He talks the boy's free hand in his own and tries to pretend that the size difference isn't nauseating. Sasha huffs at him, dramatic and loud like his uncle before he winds up his request.

"Can we have pancakes?"

Pancakes, the only thing that John has mastered. The way to win a child's favour is through their stomach, it may seem. He glances at the clock on his bedside table, 3:24 AM. Not pancake hour.

"Too early for pancakes, pumpkin."

It's hard to believe that the ultranationalist responsible for countless deaths fathered a little boy responsible for such a lethal pout.

"But maybe we could watch some TV until it is, so long as you promise not to tell Uncle Nik when he gets back. You like Scooby-Doo, don't you, sweetheart?"

And that's how he spends his night.

When Nikolai gets home, he enters the bedroom to find John leaning back against the headboard, snoring loudly as Sasha drools on his shirt. He sleeps on the couch that night so as not to disturb them.

It gets easier after that, slowly but surely. He can kiss Nikolai without seeing the eyes of a dead man. Nikolai is the one who comes onto him, and for the first time in months, their sex isn't stiff and awkward.

They pass Sasha's birthday. He gets a Mystery Machine from John and Scooby-Doo figures from Nikolai. They take him to a soft play and come back with their backs aching. Ice cream sundaes end up with a raspberry sauce stain on the couch and a much-needed bath after, neither grown men had anticipated the mess a five-year-old could make with one raspberry sundae. They fall asleep watching Moana with a little boy between them and wake up feeling their ages when every move evokes a throbbing pain in their necks.

He stops being Vladimir Makarov's son and becomes theirs.

John's facial hair becomes a point of disgust the older he gets, and when the boy gets his first phone, he saves John as Quint. Nikolai makes the mistake of wearing an apron in front of a preteen Sasha once and spends three months donning the name "Nicola" instead.

He's downright mean to them, and John loves him so much that it makes his chest hurt.

Until the day Nikolai walks out of their eighteen-year-old son's room with a note in hand and the sins of an angry man weigh down on them once more. There's no soap that can wash away the blood from the grooves of his skin. There are no words that can console Nikolai as he loses his brother all over again. They don't touch the bedroom. It's empty and it's cold, but there's a firetruck blanket in the wardrobe awaiting a little boy's return home.

He's twenty-seven when he finally catches up to them again, and John manages to utter a painfully soft, mournful "pumpkin?" before a blade is thrust through his throat in a mirror to so long ago.

He dies wearing a look of pride with only one regret, he hadn't the time to wipe the tear from his son's eye before his own closed.

[anonmousegosqueak]

So, I was thinking about poly 141 complete (GhostSoapGazPriceNik)

So, maybe they go in Christmas leave at Johnny's house, and Johnny's parents are completly clueless about their relationship, both because John never addressed having a partner and because they are really casual aboit it (on base they kinda hide it, bot by hiding it for so long it became showing affections in small gestures that you have to look into to notice love between all of them).

The night comes down, the uncles, aunts, cousins and nieces go home, they remain in the Task Force and Johnny's parents and two of his sisters.

Johnny has to go to sleep in his old childhood room (tradition every time he goes on leave) and remain a guest room and the two small couches in the living room.

Maybe they don't fuck, but they defnitely cuddle, maybe one of them can't sleep and goes down in the kitchen and has a conversation with those that are in the living room or something like that. You choose who sleeps where ;)

AGHHHJ- FENNEC IM SORRY

So this was so scrumptious yummy texture thought that I wanted to make a whole fic, right? And I'm still gonna do that, no one can stop me. Problem is: I'm in waaaay over my head.

So yeah, this has been sitting in my ask box for too long 😔

I just wanted to say that I DIDN'T FORGET!

I'm just silly and struggling.

To tide me y'all over, I have some fun little sillys we came up with under the cut.

Ship name? Ghoappricenikroagaz. It's funny because pp.

Sleeping chart: Soap got his childhood bedroom, bottom bunk. They put Gaz in the top bunk, bro slept cuddled up to Soap every single night.

Ghost got the couch, Mama MacTavish apologized constantly about "making such a big lad sleep on the sofa" and such. Ghost didn't mind, Gaz thought it was hilarious.

Price and Nik got the spare room, mostly because they're the oldest. Soap jokes about being jealous, except he also totally sneaks in there one night. They wake up to a Sargent somehow on top of both of them, muttering in his sleep.

Roach comes in later (delayed flight/spent the first bit of break with his mom)

For being the "quiet" member, he won't. Shut. Up.

Everyone is dancing around the romantic aspect, he comes in with a kiss and an offer to suck dick.

He also starts to openly argue with the homophobic aunt. She's not homophobic out of hatred, she just doesn't think about it and keeps on talking about "when they get wives" she supports 'the gays' she just doesn't think about them. Roach reminds her in the most passive aggressive way possible*

*good for him! No notes, let him do whatever he wants.

Nik is out here, zoning the heck out while surrounded by a family all speaking literal Gaelic (yes I know most Scots speak English, I need this tho). 8 languages? Sure! *Scottish*?? Bro does not understand a bit of what they're saying.

Ghost has the easiest time with the language. As the resident Johnny Whisperer™, he can understand (mostly gathered from context clues) what the conversation is about

The sisters all have bets around what the heck is going on relationship-wise

At one point they literally gang up on Soap, cornering him like they're about to kill him.

You'll just have to wait and see how the conversation goes (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Ghost is the favorite uncle, full stop.

[hatsbuckets]

Oh god you didn’t have to write the actual Price death scene after he retired. I love it. I love how domestic it is. I love how peaceful it is. 😭♥️🙏🏻 cottagecore of my dreams thank you. I got a kick out of imagining their little girl explaining how she has FIVE DADS, and no one dares makes fun of her because her five dads, well enough said lol

omg I'm so glad you like it, I just really wanted to give that peaceful feeling so I'm so glad it hit... 😭🙏 (reffed post)

I low-key have soooo many slice of moments from that one blurb... so I'm gonna rant now.

like:

They each get a nickname.

Price is "Dad" of course, "Daddy" when she's young, and "Pops" when she's teasing. ("C’mon, Pops, race me to the swing!" “Call me that again and I’ll sic Ghost on you.” "Liar")

Nikolai gets "Batya" (Батя) after she hears him called that a few times by family/friends. Of course, his heart melts the first time he hears it. ("Batya, I packed you the last cookie. Don’t tell Uncle Johnny.") I think he calls her solnyshko in return. <3

Soap gets "Uncle Johnny" most of the time. But the more Johnny says, 'come to your da, dearest' when she's little, She starts calling him "Da" and he's a blubbering crying mess the first time. She also calls him Soap because it's funny.

Simon gets the everyday "Uncle Si" (he loves it) and occasionally, when she's younger, tired/upset or in her feels, he gets "Daddy." (He absolutely doesn't expect it, but now he keeps a stuffie in his room so she can use it with her nightmares.)

Kyle gets "Abang Kyky (keekee)" after hearing Kyle's mom/siblings call him that. He melts because she does it unprompted. (thank you @goatgoesmbe I love the indo gaz hc so much y'all should seriously go look at it.)

Kate is "Aunt Kate" or just "Kate" (their little girl is obsessed with Kate (and her wife) when she visits.)

Collectively they are "My Dads”. “My dads will kick your dad’s ass." “I have five dads.” “No, I’m not kidding. Do you want pictures?” (a picture of them after an op that she got from Soap, carried in her bag. They look terrifying.)

Their little girl gets extra cupcakes at every school function because they attend everything they can, and they give her their cupcakes.

Simon, when he arrives and stays, never misses a function. (Neither does Price or Nikolai) but Simon made a vow.

She knows how to hide a body (it started as a joke but now you can thank Nikolai) and also how to plant wildflowers.

She learns to love through quiet actions, watching Nik and Price especially. She learns to make everyone's tea just the way they like it, learns when to hold a hand and when to kiss a forehead. She's so emotionally intelligent, and it's all because they have peace, and they get to love.

“Maggie chewed through the tomato netting again.” (She was being a good dog chasing the racoons away!)

Soap teaching their girl to paint rainbows on the small barn's walls.

Kyle making her wear a helmet on the tire swing Nik built, because “just in case.”

Her coming home crying once, and within an hour, four trained operatives and one terrifying Russian (and a fucking CIA agent) are planning how to emotionally (or tactically) destroy a 10-year-old’s bully. (It always ends with her being kind and 'taking the high road' but also kicking the bully's ass if needed.)

Yeah. Them.

[alexthebordercollie]

i'm always a sucker for the take that Ford does love kids, he's just not the best caretaker. i mean, he's immediately delighted to learn he's an uncle in tale of two stans, and he loves spending time with Dipper and Mabel, he's just kind of dense.

i think aus where he gets to be a dad with Fiddleford are so cute. and so interesting to see how he'd handle it. people always seem to forget what a softie he can be

Oh yes! It kind of bugs me how a lot of people act like Ford is cold when he really isn't. There are lots of little examples of him being an absolute sweetheart. He talks a big game about being logical and suppressing fear etc, but he's a deeply emotional person, and that comes through in his more personal journal entries. He's not some heartless robot. He loves sharing his joy and excitement with the people close to him. He craves human connection even though he's bad at it. He gets attached to weird little creatures like Shifty, he loves his niece and nephew and is genuinely happy to meet them. Not to mention Ford loves weirdness and creativity and kids are the weirdest most creative demographic of people out there.

I don't think Ford dislikes kids at all. I think his lack of emotional intelligence and tendency to be lost in his own world makes him a questionable caretaker. Not through apathy or malice, he's just kind of bad with kids. Making him a father is really interesting for this reason because I'm confident he'd love the shit out of his kids, but learning how to respond appropriately to their needs, keep them safe, and pay attention consistently when needed, would all be things he'd struggle with.

Ford also says as much in his journal that he didn't want to settle down and "start a family". I don't think he ever saw kids of his own as part of his future nor do I think he'd ever consciously choose to have them. That said these are the words of a young Ford with grand ambitions that children would have potentially gotten in the way of. I also think the way he shuts down the idea of "starting a family" is a response to the social pressure to get straight married which is also not something he would have wanted. I mean look how well that worked out for Fidds :/

But Ford's whole character arc is about humbling himself. Learning to let go of this fantasy of some grand destiny and find joy in just living life with the people he cares about. He learns to accept the love of others and to love himself without needing to prove anything.

Pictured above, is a combination of sleep deprivation and those little moments when you're a new parent and it dawns on you yet again that suddenly you have this tiny little human who's who world depends on you. That mix of fear and awe and overwhelming love that hits you in waves and turns your brain into mush for a moment.

Nik and Newt force Ford to put someone else over himself, forcing him to reassess his priorities much sooner.

Also I know this one wasn't really an ask but I really wanted to draw something for you because it was soooooo good seeing a real ask in my inbox. I would absolutely love to answer any asks people have about this AU. I'd love to draw more of Ford, Fidds, Stan, and the twins but it gets hard to decide what to draw with so many ideas in my brain. By all means, send me asks or suggestions for drawings and I'll do my best to respond to all of them.

[roachs-pet-roach]

Take my very short, very incoherent Christmas COD headcannons

(as i listen to the family drama [divorced uncle edition💪])

SOAPGHOST/GHOAP/GHOSTSOAP

Simon has never had a healthy family christmas.

Like in his life

poor man was expecting a physical altercation

cut to him practically clinging to Johnny’s hand as they stand outside Jonny’s parents house

“Johnny are you sure this is a good idea?”

”Aye- they’ll love you just take a breath”

Simon has never felt such an onslaught of warmth at once.

Instantly a warm shout of greeting from several mactavishes

A couple small nieces and nephews running up to hug their uncle and stare wide-eyed up at the blonde man who stood next to him nervously.

cut to simon sitting on the floor trying to have a polite conversation with Johnnys grandma while he is dogpiled by the five young nieces and nephews

And also listening to Johnnys brother talk about his new ex-wife

Simon didn’t have to talk much because the others didn’t give him much chance

He hardly had to talk to anyone besides the kids and johnny’s grandma

which was probably best because he had to stammer through a bit of Scottish

idk im tapped for these boys but i think simon would be so happy to just be surrounded by a normal family with normal family issues and just have tea with the grandma and the kids.

GAZROACH

Gary and his family are pretty close

Kyle and his family have a.. mildly strained relationship.

there was a few arguments when Kyle joined the military and tensions have been strained.

He made up a lie about working and his family didn’t question it.

So he spent christmas with Gary’s family.

It was a fub christmas

As it turns out, Gary’s parents and sister are not even close to as quiet as Gary is

He talked and talked with Gary’s family the whole time

Gary just watched and played with his nephew

they ended up watching ‘charlie brown christmas’

Kyle was a family favorite

idk just word vomiting my feelings for these soft bois

NIKPRICE/PRICENIK

They just spend the holidays with each other

To nobody’s surprise Nik has a lavish house

Him and Price just stay in the house watching movies and snuggling all day

Price makes cinnamon rolls christmas morning

it was a tradition he had when he was younger

It was a lazy day for the two men

Honestly all they could’ve asked for

sorry ik these are rushed😔 was planning on doing little fics for them but perhaps next year

Merry Christmas!

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Kimmy did this to him, didn't she? She heard her uncle call him a bear while joking around with her mum in the kitchen, and in her childhood innocence, she gave him bear ears.

Your tags make me want to read Price getting to pat Nik. Please? 🥺

Nik's hair is a reflection of his character.

cw: none (partly inspired by a post by @panchulien with a young Nik and Price).

Price had realised he was obsessed with Nik's hair quite early on. When they had met, it had been a harsh buzz cut; a number two all the way over at the very longest, with a clean shaven jaw. It hadn't suited him. Not even in his blue uniform and cap. His eyes were too warm for the austere, minimalist impression the rest of him was trying to communicate. It was like his internal conflict had manifested in his physical appearance; the severe officer battling the warm-hearted Russian patriot.

After Price had "liberated" him, or rather, encouraged him to turn informant and cut his own path towards liberation, Nik had grown his hair out. Price remembered seeing him for the first time after freeing him from the detention centre in which his own government were going to execute him. Nearly a year had passed, and Nik's hair had grown into an unruly mane. Close to a mullet, but with erratic, thick black curls paired with roguish facial hair. He had reminded Price of a musketeer or a Renaissance poet. The sombre misery had been replaced by an almost manic charisma.

That had suited him. It set off the wildness in his eyes. But that wildness had manifested in other, more dangerous ways. Price and Nik had fed off of each other's anger and their penchant for violence in those early days. When they were on op together, their lack of boundaries had led them to dark places; Nik, without direction or purpose beyond point and shoot, and Price with a chip on his shoulder.

Price had watched those thick curls fall across a blood smeared face after Nik had beaten a man to death with his bare hands more than once, the crooked smirk that followed revealing a flash of something raw and in pain beneath the surface. They crossed lines, violated boundaries and codes of ethics, telling themselves it was for a higher purpose that not even they had much of a handle on.

Mac had tried to keep them apart. Had warned Price away and told him to get a grip. Dogs that bit the hand that fed them were put down eventually, one way or another. But Nik had been intoxicating. His rage completed and complemented Price's in the worst and best ways.

Nik needed to heal. They both did. It took years. Years of dancing around each other, of finding the limit of what they would do for the "greater good", working out what that even bloody meant in the first place. They carved out their own morality, separate from the hypocrisy of the institutions that had made them, and slowly, slowly, the rage, the bleeding wounds, inside Nikolai had healed. Price had fallen in love with that wild, uncontrollable maniac, and he had stayed in love with him once he had found enough peace to stop his own self-destruction.

Price sat across from him in the little boat they had hired for a tour down the River Oder. Nik had wanted to show Price Wrocław, the Venice of Poland. Twelve little islands connected by over a hundred little bridges, with one of the biggest markets in Europe. Nik had spent the morning dragging Price down side streets to find some of the three hundred odd little bronze gnomes scattered throughout the city. "To commemorate the Orange Alternative movement," Nik had explained, his big hands gesturing expressively towards the Gothic Town Hall, tone excitable and boyish, "they used absurdist humor to protest against communist rule in the eighties."

Nik was at peace now. Nearing his fiftieth birthday, his hair was receding into a deeper widow's peak, smoothed back and neat, with slight curls at the back and beneath his ears. His stubble flattered his jaw and Price liked raking his nails through it when they kissed. Not too wild, not too austere. A perfect balance that reflected the equilibrium in Nik's heart.

"John?" Nik asked, his eyebrows raised. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, comrade," Price said, flashing rueful smile. "Just thinkin' about old times."

"Ah." Nik scratched up his bare forearm to the fold of the sleeve at his elbow. "Well then," he picked up his glass of krupnik and Price did the same, "to old times."

"And all the good times to come, cheers." Price knocked back a mouthful of the liqueur and grimaced. "Jesus fuck, Nik, this shit is fockin' 'orrid." He tipped the remainder of the glass overboard. "Could murder a man for a decent stout."

Nik rolled his eyes. "You take the Englishman out of England, but..."

Price kicked his shin lightly. "Yeah yeah, Mr World Wide. I'm a simple man with simple tastes, not all of 'em good."

"Oh, I don't know," Nik hummed. "You are dating me after all."

And there, just for a moment, was a flash of that wild, curly-haired man that had stolen Price's heart in the first place in that devilish little grin on Nik's face, and Price's blood ran hot in his veins.

[fandoms--fluff]

Secret Bestie

Mikaelson female reader x Katherine Pierce

Warnings: Drinking, swearing?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where are you going?" Your dad asks from where he's sat in an armchair. You're on your way to the front door, about to leave. You're wearing a black, mini, v-neck bodycon dress with bell sleeves and black heeled boots.

"Out" you face him. "Where exactly?"

"Oh, just deep into the woods where I'm meeting my witch cult where we're planning to end the world" you tell your dad with a straight face.

"What?" He raises an eyebrow. "You do know what sarcasm is, correct?" You ask him.

"Whatever. I'm just meeting my friend to go out to dinner and talk and stuff our faces with food" you tell him, not disclosing the name of said friend.

"...Alright, have fun" he eventually says. You tell him bye and walk out the door.

When you walk in the restaurant, you look around before spotting your best friend.

"Hey, babe" you tell her, sitting across the booth. "You do know I'm way older than you" she smirks.

"Huh, I could've sworn I've known you since we were kids" you joke, making her chuckle.

"Elijah still doesn't know about me, huh?" She takes a sip of her drink.

"I'm pretty sure he would hunt you down and kill you, himself. That is if Uncle Nik doesn't find out first that is" You take the glass out of her hand, taking a sip of it yourself.

"That's fair," Katherine says, taking her drink back. "Get your own" She smirks.

You call over the waitress and persuade her into giving you a drink with a tiny bit of magic. "Impressive" Katherine says once the brunette waitress leaves.

"Well, you vamps have your compulsion, while I have my persuasive tricks. One may call me magical" you smirk back at her. "Oh, I wonder why" Katherine rolls her eyes playfully.

"We should have some fun" you smile. "Hmm, I like that face, what kind of fun?" She smiles back. You've noticed that she only really smiles a general real smile when she's with you.

"I heard about a party in the woods that's tonight," You tell her. "Perfect," Katherine says. You guys clink your glasses together before finishing your drinks.

You guys got to the party half an hour ago and are dancing to the booming music that the speakers are playing. halfway through your's and Katherine's favorite song, your phone starts to vibrate.

You look down at the caller ID and see it's your dad who's calling. "Shit" You say and walk away from the crowd of people, Katherine following after you.

"What's wrong? Who's phoning you?" Katherine asks. "My dad" You say, getting her to instantly quiet when you answer it.

"Hey, dad" You bring the phone to your ear.

"Hello, I was just- what's all that sound?" Your dad instantly hears all the noise in the background.

"Oh, yeah, a bunch of annoying ass teens just came in here with a speaker, and no one is doing anything about it" You groan, lying to your dad perfectly.

Your father believed you after a moment. You smirk after hanging up. "He is so gullible to you," She says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"You have no idea" you chuckle and you guys go back to the fun.