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junicult · 6 months

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!! the bachelors as fathers

contains ; sfw! sooo much fluff. fem!farmer. unnamed child. established relationships — marriage. your child is implied to be around kindergarten age. men that are good w kids hehehe. not proofread / slightly rushed in some parts. i’ll edit it later LOL.

note ; i get asks on this topic at least twice a week. i’m finally caving. here’s my birthday gift to you <3

harvey.

- he was honestly made to be a father.

- despite his taller stature, there was something about him that felt so comforting.

- if a child had walked up to him all alone, sobbing with snot down their nose, he didn’t hesitate to kneel and help them find their parent.

- soothing them, grabbing their hand and asking questions to calm them down.

- no, it wasn’t a daily occurrence but it’s definitely happened to him a couple times. and each and every time he was able to help them relax, and easily reunited them with whomever their guardian was.

- he’s good with kids. always has been.

- he probably even had a babysitting job every now and then when he was younger.

- there’s was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to have his own when he grew up. and when you just so happened to stumble into his life, marrying him with the same ideals…well.

- you obviously knew he wanted kids before you got married.

- and when you realized you wanted him to be the father of your child; was another one of those instances where you got to see just how good he was with them.

- hearing how sweet he’s always been to vincent during his doctor visits, especially when the boy was younger.

- he’s a girl dad. say what you will, but he is.

- he’ll sit at the unbelievably tiny table, cramped in the tiny chair with his knees up to his chest while he tips back the empty teacup and his pinky in the air.

- he’ll even wear the tiara.

- zero complaints.

- you and his daughter would literally be the most important things in the entire world to him. he’d do anything for you two.

- like…ugh. oh my god.

- sometimes you’d come home late, and you’d walk down the hall to hear his gentle voice animatedly in your daughters dark bedroom.

- and you’d peek in, and there he was sitting at the end of her bed, quietly reading while she sleepily listens all tucked in.

- or even times when you’d wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, confused.

- so you’d walk out to go find him, having no clue where the hell he was so you check your daughters bedroom,

- and well, there he is. long ass limbs tucked and haphazardly strewn about to make room for your daughter who lays next to him sleeping peacefully in her toddler bed.

- he’s not asleep (obviously), but he lays with his eyes closed until you gently creak the floorboard.

- “she had a nightmare.” is all he says, and it’s enough to make you smile.

- even though he’s already so health conscious…it only grows after you have a child.

- “did you brush your teeth? make sure to get the gums.” “a balanced breakfast is the perfect way to start the day!” he sounds like a elementary classroom poster.

- the minute someone in the house sniffles…he’s checking everyone’s temperature.

- during the winter, he’s at the door wrapping your daughter in multiple puffy coats, scarves, earmuffs, gloves, before letting her step outside.

- you’re not off the hook either, but you never bundle up the way he wishes you would.

- “why doesn’t mommy have to wear this?” she pouts while he’s helping her in her thick boots.

- “why don’t you ask her that?😊” (he’s instigating.)

- i’m telling you, girl dad.

sam.

- his own kids weren’t on his radar when you guys first started dating.

- but he’s always liked them. especially when vincent was born.

- he was that lowkey irresponsible but very responsible older brother.

- like, he’d be in his teens telling his very impressionable younger brother to say bad words and then would act shocked when he got in trouble for saying them.

- but when it came to being the oldest man in the house while their dad was away, he really showed maturity in helping jodi and being there for them.

- and while you both established a committed relationship, that one day you’d want to be married and have kids—he idealized it a bit more.

- but then again, it was still one of those things you both needed to really think and talk about before you even acted on it, especially since you got married young.

- lol i feel like jodi or marnie forced u guys to watch jas and vincent for a weekend once.

- and after how well it went, that was kinda when it clicked that you guys were ready.

- he’s both a girl dad and a boy dad.

- he’d literally jump for joy for either outcomes. he was just excited to finally be a dad after years of daydreaming of it.

- as much as i don’t wanna say it, i still feel like he’d be much better at the fun stuff then the parenting stuff.

- i just think it’s bc he thinks with his heart more then his head, and when his child is sad and pouting, he’s too sympathetic to hold his ground.

- he wouldn’t leave it all for you to do, but he’d definitely be worse at scolding if you aren’t by his side.

- like, she colored all over the walls or something. his initial reaction would be to freak out and find a way to clean it before you’d find out (he doesn’t wanna add more work to your busy day), but then he’d scold.

- “no, don’t do that. wall, bad. paper, good. understand? nod if you understand,” …well he’s trying.

- then you’d come home to see him scrubbing the walls while your child blissfully doodles in her coloring book on the floor beside him.

- if he had a son, he’d have a little bit of practice from those few years where he babysat vince.

- lol, there’s a lot of features your son would inherit between the two of you.

- but personality wise…your son is definitely a mini-sam.

- and imagine one day, it’s the early stages of spring so sam’s typical allergies start to act up.

- you’ve always known how to handle him when he gets really sick. but picture your red-nosed, leaky-eyed husband standing behind you while you rummage through the medicine cabinet,

- and all of a sudden you hear a familiar sniffle from down the hall.

- you just freeze, slowly turning to face sam who’s making the same face that you are. until he starts to laugh.

- yeah. so now here you are, both of your boys snuggled in bed with the same sickly look, mumbling about how grateful they are that you’re there to care for them.

- and here’s the thing. if your son is sam’s mini-me…then i can assure you you’re stuck with two of the clingiest boys by your side.

shane.

- he never really thought he’d get a loving, happy family of his own.

- but he definitely daydreamed of it in times when he really just wanted an escape.

- he was always the best with jas.

- he doesn’t necessarily treat her like his daughter. but it’s not like she gives him any reason to.

- he doesn’t treat her like a child, per say. just kind of like another person. probably bc of their trauma bond lol

- he cares for her like an older brother cares for his little sister.

- so even though he has jas in his life, someone he cares for so strongly, he still doesn’t think of himself as being a good father.

- when he met you though, and you were so reassuring and sweet, that thought definitely changed.

- it went from him seeing a life alone, to pondering a family of his own.

- when he finally had the motivation to clean himself up, it approached a couple years since he’s been sober and it was definitely in the forefront of his mind to start a family with you.

- i also think of him as a girl dad. i can’t picture him as a boy dad at all not even gonna lie 😭

- like he’d be the kind of dad that would dress as the supporting character in your daughter’s favorite movie for halloween (spirits eve wtvr)

- also the kind of dad that’d join in on tea parties as well, just with the most plain look on his face despite him not minding being there.

- also…let me tell you there would be a whole inside joke swear jar thing in ur house.

- when your daughter was old enough to decipher what words were “good” and “bad,” the swear jar became very important.

- i think it started when you were pregnant.

- “ah fuck, i think i cooked this wrong. damnit.” he’d mumble.

- “we should probably stop saying those before the baby comes.” you hum, and he looks at you all confused.

- “saying what?” bc they’re in his daily vocabulary to the point where he forgets they’re “inappropriate.”

- so there came the swear jar. and every now and then it’d be a little inside joke when he swore, you’d look at him like, “drop a dollar in the jar😁”

- and when you’d say one, he was so petty matching your exact tone and smile.

- your daughter just grew up with it. it became an even bigger inside joke when you were all sitting at the kitchen table one night, he leans in to take a bite of food and, “shit! that’s hot.”

- before you even said anything your daughter smiles exactly like you would, “that’s a dollar in the swear jar, daddy.”

- ur both STUNNED. and also very proud in a sense.

- you just burst out laughing while he tries to think of a counter, but really, he’s too amused to even say anything back (thus drops a dollar in the jar!)

- 😓😓he’d be the sweetest when it came to his daughter all sad about something.

- no matter what it was. even if she as much as scrapes her knee, he would be so affectionate.

- he’s not the “walk it off” kind of dad.

- if she came to him sobbing, he’d immediately calm her down by picking her up and propping her on the couch, searching for the stuff you use for wounds in the cabinets.

- “it’s okay, you’re okay. it was just a little scrape, you won’t even feel it tomorrow.”

- and he’s wiping her tears, pressing a kiss to her forehead before going into the freezer and getting her ice cream (before dinner😨) saying, “don’t tell mommy, okay?”

- although you try finish up work early enough to tuck your daughter in bed, sometimes you end up running late.

- so uh…shane sometimes forgets to put her to bed, and of course she’s not gonna say anything!!! bedtime is a child’s worst nightmare!

- and usually when that happens, you’d end up coming home to the sight of the two of them, knocked out sharing the same blanket on the couch, cuddled up together while the tv’s still on.

- and when that happens, well, you find it a little hard to take that sight away.

sebastian.

- girl dad. sorry i just had to start with it.

- maybe i could see him with a son, but honestly…no i can’t.

- but i’m not gonna lie to you,

- for a while i feel like he didn’t want kids. not really at least.

- he’d think about them and it was always a nice idea, until he really thought about it and all the mess that babies come with lol.

- plus at the point in his life when you two met, he just wasn’t ready. for a while at least.

- when you talked about it, the topic of children was only on the table. you knew you wanted them, just not yet.

- it took a good handful of years before you actively started trying.

- even though he was prepared during your pregnancy, i feel like it didn’t hit him he was a father until after ur baby was born.

- he fell in love. swear.

- like…that tiny, wrinkly little lump was his. he helped make that. and not only was it his but it was also the woman he loves’.

- it took him a while to get into the system of it all when it came to caring for the baby. i’m talking changing diapers, feeding, burping, things like that.

- but when he was left alone with her, he was kinda in his own little world. he could hold her all day and never get tired.

- and that was a concept so crazy to him bc he didn’t get that kind of love from a father growing up.

- which is exactly why i feel like he’d actually be such a great dad.

- he could be stern when he needed to be, but never strict.

- “eat your greens,” kinda dad LMAO. especially if you were the one to make them.

- when she’d come up to him with the messiest doodle of your little family on a piece of paper, he’d think of it as a masterpiece.

- he’s not very expressive tho LOL like he’d look at the drawing and only smile, a little “thank you,” in a sweet tone.

- that’s just how he is lol. on the inside he’s sobbing.

- it would always end up on the fridge.

- he spends a lot of time at home.

- which results in a lot of time he spends with your daughter, even while he’s doing his own thing on his computer working.

- but nearly every day he was greeted with a, “daddy, can we go somewhere? what’s mommy doing?” and depending on where you were, he’d help get her shoes on and take her out on a walk to go find you.

- she got her outdoorsy side from you, that’s for sure. but because she needs a guardian, he’s gotten much more used to being outside.

- it was often you’d be working on your crops outside, wiping sweat from your forehead & turn around to your daughter eagerly wanting to help.

- now, this is not to say that your relationship w sebastian was poor before you had your daughter, i’m not saying that at all,

- but because of her adventurous personality, and clinginess to the both of you—your bond grew even more.

- “she wanted to see you.” he’d sheepishly smile, leaning to press a kiss to your forehead while you both turn and watch her feed the chickens.

- “didn’t you have that website to finish?”

- “…okay i wanted to see you too.”

alex.

- absolutely wanted a family. holy shit there’s zero doubt in my mind.

- he’s kinda wanted a more traditional household, probably based on the ideals he grew up with.

- but he absolutely didn’t mind you being the breadwinner. he honestly enjoyed it much more.

- he’d spend hours daydreaming about living on the farm with you. carrying one child on his shoulders and holding the other’s hand while guiding them around the town’s fair.

- and lowkey, i feel like one of his favorite topics of conversation was discussing how your children would be raised lol

- talking in bed at night like, “i think our son would be a gridball fan. maybe even grow up to be a player himself.” while he sighs longingly.

- which also ties into me believe he’s a boy dad. you know he is.

- i definitely feel like he’d have a boy and a girl. it’s his dream.

- he’d be fine with two boys or two girls but when he daydreamed about his future, it was always you, your son & your daughter.

- it’s just once again the traditional picture of a household and even though i don’t really think he’s that old fashioned after he met you, i still believe he’d want 2 kids.

- he would seriously daydream it all the time. the months of your pregnancy, when you found out it was a boy he really saw his future fitting like a puzzle piece.

- after a couple years, your son (who may i add was literally his mini-me) got a bit older, you both discussed it was time for another.

- and when you found out it was a girl…god. i definitely think he cried, disagree all you want.

- he’s such a caring dad. i believe he wants the best for his children, and he knows what it was like to be neglected so i can never imagine him being like that.

- first of all, you already know every single day of the summer he’s bringing them down to the beach.

- packing a bag, (that takes him halfway through the day before he realized he forgot towels) propping up beach chairs & an umbrella for shade.

- he’s never opposed to a good sand castle. especially when he remembers to bring the little molds that help with the foundation.

- kneels in the shallow end, standing close to his kids when they want to swim.

- and he’s always a fan of recapping it with you at the end of the day.

- “tell mommy what you found at the beach,” he ushers, bouncing your daughter on his hip while your son eagerly begins.

- i feel like after having children, not only is he a good dad, but he becomes an even better husband to you.

- he just loves how hard you work for him and your family, so you can bet on mother’s day, or your birthday, he’ll be all about making it special for you.

- all of them wake up earlier then you, making breakfast (well, watching him make breakfast) before they put it all on a plate and deliver it to you in bed.

- ur the kind of parents that other parents are jealous of, y’know?

- he’s just so in love with you, and the kids you made. it makes him love you even more.

elliott.

- he’s always wanted kids. he would find himself daydreaming, even when he was in his early twenties, about one day raising a child with the person he loves.

- when he met you was the start of his writing career.

- at that point, it was a little underwhelming, which was the perfect opportunity to get start a relationship with you.

- you were both fairly busy, but the thing about his job was he could lounge in your cottage while you were off working,

- and when you were able to spare a few minutes, you could stop in and see him.

- while your relationship progressed, you began the discussion of getting married and having children one day.

- it just so happened to be right when his career was taking off when you finally settled into your lives together.

- which postponed trying for a little while, but eventually you were able to.

- lol, i’m gonna say it;

- without a DOUBT a girl dad.

- oh my god he would daydream of having a little you running around, tuft red hair with your sweet smile.

- and with how melodramatic he is, imagine that projected onto your daughter LMAO.

- if you couldn’t find him in his typical writing room sometimes, all u had to do was walk to your daughters room where he propped up his own little desk.

- just so he could be near her.

- he also is just entranced at all times, he loves holding her, just looking at her.

- he’s extremely helpful.

- for the most part, he was always immediate to react if your newborn needed something. the second she’s cry, he was up on his feet telling you to stay put.

- he’s just very understanding with how busy you are, and he never minded spending more time with his daughter.

- if it was the middle of the night, and she needed something, he’d always shake his head to you pushing off your blankets, whispering, “i got it, my love. go back to sleep, i’m sure she’s fine.”

- especially on days where he knows you’re particularly stressed, he’s not letting you lift a finger.

- anyways, it carried on when your daughter got older, too.

- she’d walk in all, “mommy, i threw up,” & he was on his feet to help before you even registered what happened.

- he’s just always been fantastic help.

- one of his favorite things to do is read to her.

- similar to harvey, except ten times more.

- he’s acting out each part, using different voices for different characters, making a grand show of it all just to hear his daughter giggle.

- it’s become a habit every night, and since you’re typically busy most evenings, it’s often you’ll come in to find him mid-storytelling.

- even if you intend on reading to her, you always end up stopping to let him finish. he’s so entertaining with it that even you’re interested in this plot line for 2 year olds.

- he’ll never skip this routine.

- and when he kisses her goodnight, he tucks her in, pushes her hair from her forehead and bends down to plant a soft kiss.

- “goodnight, sweetheart. sweet dreams.” he always says.

- he’s gentle with you, he’s even gentler with her.

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merrybloomwrites · 2 months

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I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 6)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Harry is full of surprises including a package shipped to Y/N's home, shows cancelled due to the flu, and an unexpected visit.

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5

Word Count: 4.8k

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There’s over five weeks between when you arrive home from Chigaco and when you finally have your doctor's appointment scheduled. The first week, you feel totally fine. Spending a full weekend with Harry, dropping in his presence, and being scented by him has completely taken care of your touch deprivation symptoms. Temporarily.

By week two the dizziness starts to creep up again. Then the itching, followed by the chills. No matter what you do, you just cannot seem to get warm. Towards the end of the third week, it’s starting to become unbearable. You’re constantly exhausted and shaky and just so cold.

Even though you have been talking to Harry almost every day, you haven’t told him how bad the depri has been getting. Part of you still hasn’t gotten over your pride. It’s difficult to admit that you need help just due to your biology. The other part of you doesn’t want to worry him. You know how busy he is and the last thing you want to do is add another stressor.

Even without you saying anything, the alpha seems to sense that you’re struggling. Just as it’s getting really bad a package arrives at your door. It’s a huge box and when you open it you find it filled with a number of smaller, sealed bags.

There’s a note on top, handwritten by Harry, that reads:

Dear Y/N,

I hope you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other. I know you still haven’t been able to get new soothers yet and I was worried your touch deprivation symptoms might be bothering you again. I remember you saying that nesting doesn’t help much without other scents present.

I’ve scented a number of materials for you. Sarah has as well, in case it’s better to have a variety. The bags will trap the scent in, which is why I’ve separated the materials into a few different bags. You can open each as you need more, and they’ll hold on to our scents longer.

I know nesting is very private for omegas, so don’t feel like you need to report back if it worked or not, though I’m always here to listen if you’d like to talk about it.

Sincerely Yours,

Harry

It’s late-afternoon and you’ve already finished your work for the day, so you start looking at the labels on the bags. There are blankets, shirts, sweatshirts, hats, scarves, stuffed animals. Anything you could want to make a perfect nest.

Suddenly you’re hit with an overwhelming desire to build a nest, something you’ve never felt before. There’s a section of your room between the bed and the wall that will be the perfect spot. It’s cozy, tucked away from the rest of the apartment, and the large windows let it sunlight for most of the day.

The first thing you do is vacuum the carpet, needing it to be perfectly clean in order to begin the project. Next, you grab the old twin mattress out of your basement storage space, grateful that you hadn’t thrown it away when upgrading to a queen-sized bed. It fits perfectly in the spot you’ve chosen, and you take out your own spare comforters and blankets for the base. Since they’ll be covered in scented objects you figure you’ll save the scented blankets for another time.

After the base is made you get stuck. You’ve never successfully nested before, and you’re unsure where to begin.

It’s a frustrating feeling. You’re an omega, nesting should be second nature to you.

Before you can spiral too deep, you call Harry who immediately answers with a “Hi there, love. How are you?”

Just hearing his voice is enough to calm you and stop the spiral.

“Hi,” you reply. “I’m good. I got the package you sent. Thank you for everything.”

“Of course. I hope it helps.”

“I uhm, I’m trying to build a nest.”

“That’s wonderful!” He sincerely replies.

“Emphasis on trying,” you say. He’s quiet for a moment, giving you time to explain further. “I’ve got the base, but I’m stuck now. I have no clue where to put everything else. And I feel like a lousy omega because I should just know how to do it, right?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. First of all, you could never be a lousy omega. But there might be a bit of a disconnect between you and your inner omega. You’ve been on suppressants for years, basically since you presented. Your instincts will come. You just need to be patient with yourself.”

You take in every word he says and a weight lifts off your shoulders.

“How do you always know what you say?” You ask with a laugh.

He laughs with you for a moment before his chuckles turn into coughs.

“You alright?” You ask.

“Yea, I’m good, just a little tickle or something,” he answers, voice slightly raspier than usual. “Listen, I have to go get ready for the show soon. I ordered you some food, it should get to your apartment in a little while. Take a break, relax, eat some dinner, and try again. Don’t overthink it, just start and see where it takes you, alright?”

“Okay. Break a leg tonight,” you reply.

“Thank you darling. Talk to you soon,” he says as he ends the call.

You take a quick shower while waiting for the food to arrive. This isn't the first time Harry’s sent you a meal. It’s his way of taking care of you even from across the country. The doorbell rings and you’re not surprised to see that he ordered your favorite Italian dish, reminding you how much he truly listens, and somehow seems to know what you’re craving before you do.

You do as he says and relax during dinner, watching an episode of your favorite comfort show. After you’re finished you decide to try again. You put on Harry's first album and grab one of the bags from the box. The note says it has two shirts, a sweater, and a scarf, all with Harry scent. You open it and his scent surrounds you. The task at hand no longer seems daunting, but rather exciting.

Over the next hour you construct a perfect nest, at least in your opinion. You’ve used materials from two bags of Harry’s and one of Sarah’s, as well as scenting a few materials of your own. The combination of smells is wonderful, absolutely soothing to your omega.

Possibly your favorite thing Harry sent is a new stuffed bunny, referencing the fact that you’ve compared him to a bunny rabbit on multiple occasions.

You’re cuddled in the best, new bunny in your arms, and you pull up your phone. It’s later than you thought, and Harry’s show will be starting soon. Lately you haven’t been able to watch many of his concerts due to the time change. But you decide to stay up late tonight and start a little bit later than usual tomorrow, fully taking advantage of the freedom you have for your job.

Everything starts normally but you notice a change in Harry’s demeanor about halfway through. His voice starts getting raspier, he’s turning his head to cough and clear his throat more often than usual, and he generally just seems a bit off.

That coughing earlier was definitely not just a simple little tickle.

You give him thirty minutes after the show ends to get home and shower before you FaceTime him. He answers immediately and says, “What are you still doing awake?” His voice sounds even worse than before.

“I was watching your show,” you answer.

“So you saw how shit I was?”

This is what you were afraid of. This is why you stayed up even later to talk to him. Because you knew he’d be beating himself up even though he’d obviously pushed through pain to give the very best concert he could.

“Harry, no, you absolutely were not shit. I won’t lie, you sounded a little croaky when you spoke, but the songs sounded perfect. You still put on an excellent show. How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m upset for starters. But physically I kind of feel like garbage. My throat burns, my body’s aching, and I’m exhausted.”

“You need to rest, Harry. Give yourself time to get better.”

“I know that you’re right, but it’s hard. There’s always something that needs to be done,” he says with a sad, small voice that nearly breaks your heart.

“It’s not healthy to push yourself too hard. You need a break or it’s only going to get worse.” Your voice is laced with concern, as you practically plead with him to take care of himself. You’ve gotten to know him well over the past few weeks and you’re fully aware of his tendency to overwork himself, and his habit of putting everything before himself and his health. He’s explained that it’s a holdover from his early experience in the music industry and how hard management pushed him and the other boys when they first started. Since then, it’s been hard to change his mentality on the issue.

He nods without saying anything, and you take it as a win; albeit a small one. At least he’s willing to agree that he needs to take it easy. You can only hope that he actually will.

“Where are you?” he suddenly asks. “I don’t recognize your background.”

You smile and blush before replying, “I’m in my nest.”

“You are? It worked? How to do feel?” There’s a definite change in his attitude now, excitement rather than despair.

“It worked. Thank you again for the materials and the help earlier. I feel,” you pause for a moment to think before saying, “content. And safe.”

“I’m so happy to hear that. Truly just made me feel better knowing I could help you in some way.”

“I wish I could do the same for you.”

“You do. You help me. By calling, and talking me down from a spiral. And looking so cozy in your lovely nest.” Your cheeks warm again at the alpha complimenting the nest you worked so hard on. You feel proud to have made something that he approves of, especially with no prior experience. Suddenly thoughts of nests you can make for the two of you, maybe one day pups as well, force their way into your mind.

“I’m glad I could make you feel better,” is all you say in reply.

Your eyes meet for a moment, just simply taking each other in, before Harry finally says, “It’s pretty late here, and I know it is way past your bedtime. Get some sleep darling.”

“I will. Please, take it easy tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, love,” he replies with a soft smile.

“Good night Harry.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You roll over, nose facing the wall of the nest, where Harry’s scent is strongest and you’re able to pick up on a hint of Sarah’s as well. Even though you’re worried about Harry, your surroundings have you calm enough to quickly fall asleep.

The next few days are difficult. Harry gets diagnosed with the flu and seems to just be getting sicker. He does everything he can to get better, but unfortunately ends up needing to postpone three shows while he continues to rest and get back to performance shape.

He’s upset and frustrated about the situation, and you spend much of those days texting and talking on Facetime to reassure him that no one is mad at him. While you agree that they might be a bit disappointed, you remind him that his true fans care about him and wouldn’t want him to push himself too far.

One week of rest does him a world of good. It’s obvious at his next show, exactly seven days later, that he has made a full recovery. You stay up again to watch the very beginning of the concert and fall into a peaceful sleep knowing that Harry is back in full health and back to doing what he loves.

Another week after that Harry’s finished his US residencies and it’s finally time for your doctor’s appointment.

As much as you’ve been looking forward to being seen and having your problem fixed, you’re incredibly nervous going in. You hadn’t been able to speak to Harry that morning as he was traveling and you’re more anxious than you expected to be.

Your doctor is a lovely beta woman who doesn’t bat an eye when you lay your sweatshirt next to you on the bed during the exam. You’d pulled it out of one of the bags that morning specifically to have Harry’s scent with you, and since you had to change into a patient gown this is the next best option. It works in keeping you calm as she goes through the rather invasive checkup.

After the physical exam is over she leaves so you can change before discussing what she found. Once you’re dressed the nurse leads you to her office and you sit across from her at the desk.

“First of all,” she begins. “I want to assure you that you’re perfectly healthy.” You breathe a sigh of relief at that, not even realizing that you’d been at least a little concerned that something was wrong.

“It seems we were right in assuming that you’ve developed a tolerance to your medication regimen. You were on a fairly high dosage so unfortunately it won’t be as simple as switching to different meds. You’d likely start having these same problems within just a year or possibly a couple of months.”

You listen closely, hanging on to every word even though you’re worried about where this is headed.

“What I would like to have you do,” she continues, “Is go completely off the medications for six months. This will allow your body to basically reset. I won’t lie, it will be tough for a while, especially if you don’t have an alpha, but it will ensure that the meds will be completely effective for years to come once you start back up.”

“I’ve never been unmedicated before,” you quickly say, trying to communicate how unsure you feel about what she is saying.

“Why don’t I tell you what you can expect during this time?” She asks and you nod, wanting as much information as possible.

“If you don’t have an alpha, then you’ll likely experience touch deprivation. It may be a little worse than what you’ve reported feeling recently, but I promise it will not be debilitating. It takes over a year for those symptoms to become severe. Nesting with objects that have been scented by an alpha will help with that. There are a couple of programs that can provide you with those materials if needed. I can give you the contact information.”

“No, thank you. I have a couple of alphas who have given me things. I’m sure they’ll be able to re-scent them for me if I ask,” you reply.

“Okay, wonderful. I’m glad you have some trusted alphas to help you. I urge you to accept help from them during this. It will make everything much easier for you and your inner omega. Now I know you like to hide your scent in public, which I completely understand given the way people tend to treat omegas. While you can’t take the oral scent blockers, the spray on kind is fine in moderation. I don’t recommend constant use though. And of course, being scented by an alpha is not only approved, but recommended.”

You smile slightly at this, thinking Harry would probably be happy with an excuse to scent you whenever possible.

“The last thing we need to discuss is heats. I have here that you’ve only experience two partial heats, correct?”

“Yes. My presentation heat, which lasted about a day, and then a two day heat a few months later before we landed on the right suppressant dosage.”

“Okay, you should experience two heats while off the medications. The first will be in about three months and will be similar to that last one you had. Shouldn’t last more than forty-eight hours and won’t be too intense. The second one should occur three months after that. This will be your first true heat and will last anywhere from four to seven days. It will also be more intense. I’ll give you some literature to read up on and some good sources to do research so that you can be prepared. After that second heat we’ll begin working out your new medicine regimen. Do you have any questions?”

Yea, you think to yourself, I have about a million questions. But no complete thoughts actually form in your brain, so you just reply, “No, I think I got everything.”

“Well, if anything does come up please reach out. I recommend email unless it’s something urgent since I have some time each day to sit and give a detailed reply, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Since you’ve already taken your meds today I’ll list tomorrow as the first day without them. You may start to feel a bit different within the next week.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you say as you both stand. She walks you out of the office and you part ways as she says, “Take care.”

You sit in your car for a moment as your mind spins with all the information you just received. When you finally feel focused enough to drive you wonder where to go next. You’d blocked the day off for this, knowing you probably would be too distracted to work at all after the appointment.

For a minute you debate stopping for a coffee on the way home. Getting a little treat after something unpleasant is like, a core part of girlhood.

But when you pull out of the parking lot you immediately start driving home. Because you know what you need right now, and it’s not a mocha latte.

Walking through your front door you quickly change into comfy clothes and curl up in your nest. This is exactly what your omega needs after the stressful morning. Nothing can beat being surrounded by the alpha’s wonderful scent.

Well, nothing except actually being with the alpha.

But that’s currently impossible. He’s traveling, probably almost in Mexico by now.

Right?

He’s going to Mexico. That’s what you keep telling yourself. It’s what you say when there’s a surprise knock on the door. It’s what you repeat when you open the door and see none other than Harry Styles standing in your apartment hallway.

He’s going to Mexico. Except he’s very much standing in front of you, flowers in one hand, a tray of drinks in the other, and a small suitcase next to him.

“Hi,” he says sweetly, dimples making an appearance as he smiles at you.

“Hi,” you answer just as quietly, still in disbelief of what you’re seeing.

You step back, silently inviting him in. He places the drinks and flowers on the table in your entryway so he can roll his suitcase in, shutting the door behind him.

The two of you stand there for a moment just taking each other in. Slowly, Harry leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. He pulls back just an inch and there’s a moment of tension between you.

The moment doesn’t last long. You don’t know who moves first, but your lips quickly crash together in a kiss more heated than any you’ve shared before. His hands grip your waist, and you bite back a whine at the feeling of how big they are on your body. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, one resting on the back of his neck while the other slides through his hair.

You begin to walk backwards into the living room, never breaking contact. Harry sits on your couch, and you follow to straddle him, kneeling over him so your legs bracket either side of his. The kiss gets more intense, and this time you can’t hide the noise of pleasure when his tongue just barely passes between your lips.

After a few minutes of what is by far the best make out of your life, his hands move to your thighs. They slide up further and you become overwhelmed, pulling back from the kiss in response.

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong, doesn’t question what happened or if you’re okay. He knows why you stopped. He can read that you’ve gone as far as you’re comfortable with at this point. He smiles, presses one more chaste kiss to your lips, and then readjusts you so you’re sitting next to him, legs resting over his lap. He pulls you in, so you’re tucked against his side, and you stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being close together.

“So, how did the appointment go today?” he finally asks.

Before you can answer your stomach starts to growl loudly, causing you both to laugh.

“Hold that thought,” he says, “let’s get some lunch first huh?”

“Sounds like a good plan. I can make some for us,” you say, and immediately head to the kitchen.

Harry uses the restroom while you prepare some sandwiches and fruit salad. It gives you a moment to process everything that happened that morning. You also think about how you’ll answer Harry’s last question. You decide to tell him the truth, tell him everything. He’s proved how deeply he cares about you, and honestly at this point you can’t imagine keeping anything from him.

So over lunch, you explain everything your doctor said. You tell him about the touch deprivation, and he reassures you that he’ll make sure you always have freshly scented materials to wear and put in your nest. You even tell him about the upcoming heats, though not without blushing the whole time.

“Is there anything I can do to help with that? Would you want me to be with you through it?” You’re endeared by the fact that his blush matches yours now.

You think about his offer for a moment and reply, “I don’t think so. At least not the first one. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. And, uhm,” you pause for a moment before admitting something. You’re scared to tell him, but you’ve already talked about enough embarrassing things today with him and your doctor, so one more can’t hurt. “I’ve never been knotted before. And though I want to someday, I want it to be right. And I want it to be when I’ll remember it, not while I’m under the haze of a heat. When we’ll both remember it.” You’re nervous at the end, including him the way you did, like you’re assuming he wants that too.

“I completely understand. There will be a time when we’re ready. And it will be perfect,” you share another shy smile, reassured that he included himself without any hesitation. He wants this, and he wants this with you. He sees a future to your relationship, just like you do.

“Now,” he continues, “when it comes to helping with the touch deprivation and you requiring scenting, I think we should choose some dates when we can be together. It’s not healthy for you if we’re apart for long periods of time. And honestly, I don’t want to go months without seeing you.”

“Me neither,” you reply.

“Do you want to pull out our calendars now, or forget about all this for the afternoon and just spend the day together and make some plans over the phone after I leave tomorrow?”

“Make plans later. Definitely. I want to enjoy the day with you.”

And so, the two of you have a lazy afternoon in. It had started to rain while you ate lunch, which gives you the perfect excuse to turn on the fireplace and lounge in the living room. You watch movies, play some games, and get lost listening to each other tell stories. Harry orders in dinner, Thai this time, and you each take your own showers before getting ready for bed.

Harry hasn’t been in your room yet, and you hesitate before opening the door to let you both in. He’s seen your nest over Facetime, but this is different, and suddenly you’re hit with the overwhelming need for him to approve of it. You don’t know what you’ll do if the alpha doesn’t like it.

Of course, your fear is for nothing. Because the second you bring Harry to the side of your bed and show him what you made, he immediately showers you in compliments. He tells you how perfect it is, how cozy it looks.

“Would you like to lay in it with me? I know it’s kind of small, so I understand if-” he cuts you off before you can complete your sentence and says, “I would be honored to be in your nest with you.”

He looks to you for guidance, needing to know exactly where you want him. He knows how important nests are to omegas, and the last thing he wants is to mess it up in any way. You instruct him where to lay down and he does so without pause. He holds his arms out and you quickly go to him.

It’s no surprise when you begin to purr. Wrapped in his arms, in your nest, surrounded by his scent, you think you may have entered heaven.

No one speaks for a while, and you start to think maybe Harry’s fallen asleep. That is until you hear him clear his throat. You look to him, knowing he wants to say something, and he takes a deep breath.

“I have a question for you. And I know it may be too soon, but it seems silly to delay when we obviously have a connection. We’re old enough now to know what we want. And what I want is you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, or at least not yet, but I couldn’t leave without asking. Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

“Harry, I would absolutely love to.”

He holds you closer in response pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling back and seeing the huge smile on your face.

“There’s just one more question,” he says. He seems even more nervous about this one, but you remain calm, even releasing some calming pheromones of your own.

You can tell he senses them as he relaxes and says, “Would you also do me the honor of being my omega?”

This question is even more unexpected than the last. He’s right in saying that it’s very early to ask, but at the same time, it’s not too early at all. Because there’s an undeniable connection between the two of you, not just as people, but as alpha and omega. It would be silly not to make it official.

Happy tears fill your eyes, and you nod yes in answer to his question. His eyes are similarly watery, and he leans down to press a kiss over your mating spot, a promise of what’s to come in the future, and you snuggle impossibly closer to him. To Harry. Your boyfriend. And your alpha.

You sleep soundly through the night, waking only when you realize Harry isn’t beside you. The spot is still warm, so he hasn’t been gone long. It’s early, a little before 7 a.m., and you hear Harry getting ready in the bathroom. He’ll be leaving soon. He mentioned a car would be picking him up to take him to the airport first thing in the morning.

Before you can get up he crouches down, running a hand over your hair. He’s ready to go, but he lays down next to you, soaking up every last second before he absolutely needs to leave. He scents you, does it so strongly that he’s practically scent marked the room, and you’re grateful for that. Since you’ll be stopping your medications today, having a space filled with his smell will help ease you through the transition.

Too quickly, his phone rings with a message that his ride is waiting outside.

He leans down to kiss you and say, “Everything is going to be alright. We’ll work it out, and I’m with you the whole way. Goodbye, my omega.”

You preen at the title and press another kiss to his lips before replying, “Thank you, alpha. Be safe.”

“I will, I promise,” he says. With one final press of his lips on your forehead, he drags himself out of the comfort of your nest and then out of your apartment.

It’s quiet without him, but you reflect on his parting words. You believe them wholeheartedly. It’s going to be difficult, but he’ll be there to help.

With the reassurance that you’re not alone, and Harry’s delicious scent filling the room, you slip back to sleep, feeling nervous but hopeful about what’s to come.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you all liked it as well!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz @fictionalmensblog @buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you

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mizgnomer · 3 months

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Behind the Scenes of The Star Beast - Part One

Excerpt from Benjamin Cook's Star Beast Set Visit in DWM 597:

There’s a buzz in the air in Camden Town tonight as the market vendors shut up shop. Businessmen wait on the bridge by the lock. Students rush from the Starbucks, buskers busk. Tourists jostle for a selfie spot, next to the bronze statue of Amy. At the northernmost point of Camden High Street, a man with a mohawk folds away his cardboard placard (‘HELP A PUNK TO GET DRUNK’) and heads across the road to buy a Red Bull from the 24/7. Three men in North Face jackets, one on a stepladder, yank a tarpaulin sheet off a police box. Security guards change shifts. On Gin Alley, people are still queuing for meat and noodles. A woman in a Kermit tee leaves Oddballs carrying a unicycle. Rose Noble buys a bagful of eyes. Outside Cyberdog, two silver robots, three times the height of the average human, stand vigil. A different crowd is gathered here too, dripping in scarves, bowties, and pinstripes. A dog barks. A neon sign flickers. David Tennant arrives. Some people cheer. Others clap. A boy in a beanie hat drops his falafel. An ambulance siren wails in the distance. Two-hundred phones are held aloft. “What a rock star,” says Doctor Who’s executive producer, Phil Collinson. “I still can’t quite believe David is back on the Doctor Who set.” Neither can he. “It’s mental,” says David, grinning. “We’ve got three more months of this.” It’s mid-May 2022, and he’s donned the vintage Converse once more to play the Doctor, alongside Catherine Tate as Donna Noble, in three hour-long 60th Anniversary Specials. They began filming in Cardiff last week. A few days ago, he recorded his half of the regeneration from Jodie Whittaker’s Thirteenth Doctor.

I’ll post additional parts in the coming months with the #whoBtsBeast tag. The full episode list is [ here ]

#david tennant #catherine tate #doctor who #rtdedit #yasmin finney #jacqueline king #rachel talalay #the star beast #so excited to have new episodes to add #benjamin cook #dwm #whoBts #whoBtsBeast #stuff i posted #doctor who 60th anniversary #dw spoilers #what a gift these episodes are

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jumbleddufus · 6 months

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I swear it's always "I love you so much!" but never

"I will love you with no regard to the actions of our enemies or the jealousies of actors. I will love you with no regard to the outrage of certain parents or the boredom of certain friends. I will love you no matter what is served in the world's cafeterias or what game is played at each and every recess. I will love you no matter how many fire drills we are all forced to endure, and no matter what is drawn upon the blackboard in a blurring, boring chalk. I will love you no matter how many mistakes I make when trying to divide fractions, and no matter how difficult is it to memorize the periodic table. I will love you no matter what your locker combination was, or how you decide to spend your time during study hall. I will love you no matter how your soccer team performed in the tournament or how many stains I received on my cheerleading uniform.

I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you next Tuesday. I will love you if you cut your hair and I will love you if you cut the hair of others. I will love you if abandon your baticeering and I will love you if you retire from the theatre to take up some other, less dangerous occupation. I will love you if you drop your raincoat on the floor instead of hanging it up and I will love you if you betray your father. I will love you even if you announce that the poetry of Edgar Guest is the best in the world and even if you announce that the work of Zilpha Keatley Snyder is unbearably tedious. I will love you if you abandon the theremin and take up the harmonica and I will love you if you donate your marmosets to the zoo and your tree frogs to M. I will love you as the starfish loves a coral reef and as kudzu loves trees, even if the oceans turn to sawdust and the trees fall in the forest without anyone around to hear them. I will love you as the pesto loves the fettuccini and and as the horseradish loves the miyagi, as the tempura loves the the ikura and the pepperoni loves the pizza. I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you as the doctor loves his sickest patient and a lake loves its thirstiest swimmer.

I will love you as the beard loves the chin, and the crumbs love the beard, and the damp napkin loves the crumbs, and the precious document loves the dampness of the napkin, and the squinting eye of the reader loves the smudged print of the document, and the tears of sadness love the squinting eye as it misreads what is written.

I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat, and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm wale loves the flavor of naval uniforms.

I will love you as a child loves to overhear the conversations of their parents, and the parents love the sound of their own arguing voices, and as the pen loves to write down the words these voices utter in a notebook for safe keeping.

I will love you as a shingle loves falling off a house on a windy day and striking a grumpy person across the chin, and as an oven loves malfunctioning in the middle of roasting a turkey. I will love you as an airplane loves to fall from a clear blue sky and as an escalator loves to entangle expensive scarves in its mechanism. I will love you as a wet paper towel loves to be crumpled into a ball and thrown at a bathroom ceiling and an eraser loves to leave dust in the hairdos of the people who talk too much. I will love you as a cufflink loves to drop from its shirt and explore the party for itself and as a pair of white gloves loves to slip delicately into the punchbowl. I will love you as a taxi loves the muddy splash of a puddle and as a library loves the patient tick of a clock. I will love you as a thief loves a gallery, and as a crow loves murder, as a cloud loves bats and as a range loves braes. I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong. I will love you as a battlefield loves young men and as peppermints love your allergies, and I will love you as the banana peel loves the shoe of a man who was just struck by a falling shingle off a house.

I will love you as a volunteer fire department loves rushing into burning buildings and as burning buildings love to chase them back out, and as a parachute loves to leave a blimp, and as a blimp loves to chase after it.

I will love you as a dagger loves a certain person's back, and as a certain person loves to wear dagger proof tunics, and as a dagger proof tunic loves to go to a certain dry cleaning facility, and how a certain employee of a dry cleaning facility loves to stay up late with a pair binoculars, watching a dagger factory for hours in the hopes of catching a burglar, and as a burglar loves sneaking up behind people with binoculars, suddenly realizing that she has left her dagger at home.

I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp, and as a gasping person loves a glass of brandy to calm their nerves, and as a glass of brandy loves to shatter on the floor, and as a noise of a glass shattering loves to make someone else gasp, and as someone else gasping loves a nearby desk to lean against, even if leaning against it presses a lever that loves to open a drawer and reveal a secret compartment. I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and until all the secrets have gone gasping out into the world.

I will love you until all the codes and hearts have been broken and until every anagram and egg has been unscrambled. I will love you until every fire is extinguished and until every home is rebuilt from the handsomest and most susceptible of woods, and until every criminal is handcuffed by the laziest policeman. I will love you until M. hates snakes and J. hates grammar, and I will love you until C. realizes that S. is not worthy of his love and N. realizes he is not worthy of V. I will love you until the bird hates the nest and the worm hates the apple, and until the apple hates the tree and the tree hates the nest, although honestly, I cannot imagine that last occurrence no matter how hard I try.

I will love you as we grow older, which has just happened, and has happened again, and happened several days ago, continuously, and then several years before that, and will continue to happen as the spinning hands of every clock and the flipping pages of every calendar mark the passage of time, except for the clocks that people have forgotten to wind and the calendars that people have forgotten to place in a highly visible area. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and that long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. I will love you as the chances of us running into each other slip from slim to zero, and until your face is fogged by a distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don't see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this, and no matter how I am discovered after what happens to me, happens to you as I am discovering this. I will love you if you don't marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else—your co-star perhaps, or Y., or even Q. or anyone Z. through A., even R. although sadly I think it will be quite some time before two woman can be allowed to marry—and I will love you if you have a child, and I will love you if you have two children, or three children, or even more, although I personally think three is plenty, and I will love you if you never marry at all and never have children, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all, and I must say that on late, cold nights I prefer this scenario out of all the scenarios I have mentioned.

That Beatrice, is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way. Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope."

#me realizing that i will never be loved the way lemony loves beatrice #me and who fr #lemony snicket #beatrice baudelaire #the beatrice letters #a series of unfortunate events #asoue #long post #faves #jumbleddufus rambles

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whitehareknits · 2 months

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Are you a Doctor Who/Our Flag Means Death fan? Did you know I made Stede Bonnet, Edward Teach, and Izzy Hands inspired Doctor Who scarves?

Did you know that they're currently on sale? (2/27-3/5)

Did you also know that the Ed Teach and Stede Bonnet scarves are available in full and half sizes? (Full length is 18ft and 22ft respectively 😅). The Izzy scarf is based on a shorter 13th Doctor design and is about 8ft.

Did you know that I have one of each of the scarves actually completed and ready to ship?

Well now you do! You can find them here

#white hare knits #knitting #etsy sale #please reblog #our flag meets death #doctor who scarves #doctor who #edward teach #stede bonnet #izzy hands

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eveandtheturtles · 11 months

Note

Bayverse turtles (seperate) with a mutant reader who hibernates in the winter?

Leo

The first time it happens he is startled.

Like yeah, you mentioned that but he couldn't help but panic a little when you just wouldn't wake up.

It takes Donnie's expert opinion to calm him down.

"Don't scare me like that!" Is like probably first thing you hear when you wake up. Will not let go for a long time.

He reads to you while you sleep.

Has a warm cup of tea ready for you when you wake up.

Next time you plan VERY THOROUGHLY your hibernation and he has a dedicated spot in his room for you.

Both the knight and a dragon guarding you in your sleep. He will exact utmost revenge upon his brothers if any of them tries to wake you up.

Has to chase Donnie out of his room. He doesn't care that his bro wants to observe you for "scientific reasons". NO DISTURBANCES.

Gets Donnie to plan your meals before next Big Sleep so you have all the nutritions you need.

Mikey

Freaks out a bit like Leo when it happens. Mostly bc you probably did tell him about it but his ADHD brain forgot.

Whips you out THE BEST pillow fort for next time.

Hangs out around you all the time BC he misses you so damn much. When will you wake uuup he has so much stuff to tell you and show you!

Draws you when you sleep.

Makes you a feast both before you sleep and when you wake up. All your favourite food

Raph needs to sit his hyperactive ass down or he'd wake you up. Donnie needs to explain it is bad to mess your cycle like that.

After that he is super worried and hides his percussion in case that makes noise.

He still tells you everything at the end of the day.

He hides in the fort with you when he feels super low and needs to remember you are still there for him.

Wrote you a song when you slept.

Cuddles you so much when you are awake.

Raph

You will have the coziest nest to hibernate. He knits you blankets, pillows, socks, sweaters, scarves and anything you want.

He will sit by you and stroke your head waiting for you to wake up.

Doesn't talk much. He isn't a talker

"Took you long enough" he grumbles when you wake up and kinda just sags on you.

He missed your voice and your eyes looking at him.

Better return the favour of skritches. He missed the way you'd scratch his neck and head.

Then order your favourite take out, maybe cook something himself.

Carries you into the main part of lair "LOOK WHO IS UP!"

Will not leave your side after you wake up.

Like Leo he is bodyguarding you.

One time Mikey sneaked past him and you had some stuff drawn on your face.

Raph was pissed and Mikey had to hide from him for at least a week, cause it was on sight.

Raphie proceeded to clean your face as carefully as he could. No one disrespects you. Not even his brothers.

He makes sure you'd build your muscles/body mass quickly after waking up.

Donnie

You write him a statement allowing him to monitor you when you sleep.

He is super excited to know how your type of mutant works.

He preplans EVERYTHING.

It is a bit annoying when your boyfriend doubles also as a doctor bc he monitors everything to have clear data.

CONTROLLED ENVIRONMENT

After the first time you kind of revoke his permissions bc while you love him it was very tiring.

He calms down after that.

Like Mikey he has a pillow fort of sorts for you in his lab so he can spend as much time around you while you sleep as he can.

The pillow fort is covered with materials that cannot get set on fire. He made sure of it.

Oh and a forcefield just in case.

There's a big mug of coffee waiting for you when you wake up.

Still threatens everyone in the lair to cut off their WiFi if they dare to wake you up.

Gets Mikey to cook you a good, healthy meal but also throws in some of your favourite things in there as well.

When you sleep you are kind of like rubber duck for him to read his codes to find faults in them.

@turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch @m1dnyt3-w0lf @leosgirl82 @madammuffins @sharpwindow @tinkabelle19 @scholastic-dragon @dilucsflame33

#tmnt 2016 #tmnt #bayverse turtles #tmnt bayverse #eve scribbles #tmnt 2014 #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x you #tmnt x reader #leonardo x you #raphael x you #donatello x reader #mikey x reader

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myrtiniart · 5 months

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I can think of one (1) guidance counselor who's thrilled to celebrate Doctor Who's 60th anniversary, by cosplaying as the 4th Doctor. (he's especially proud of the hand-knitted scarf, part of a series)

Bonus: Some geeks geeking out (or a rare moment where the Belcher kids and mr Frond spend quality time together)

More about the art under the cut

"Entrepreneurship is no walk in the park. One day you have a thriving Etsy business selling hand-knitted Doctor Who scarves, the next, a PBS lawyer sends you a cease and desist letter that practically threatens to break your fingers."

After that scene, I needed more content of mr Frond fangirling over Doctor Who!

It makes sense to me that he'll cosplay as the 4th Doctor. As someone who's born in the early 70s (according to wiki), he must have seen the episodes with Tom Baker back in the eighties. But I believe he likes the newer incarnations too.

Αn other headcanon of mine is that mr Frond likes going to comic-cons, either as a cosplayer or as just a fan. I have no idea what they're talking about in the second drawing, but they probably run into each other in a comic-con and the Belchers started asking him questions about his costume and the show, which he's more than glad to answer! Gene and Louise got really invested in the show's story really fast (Louise trying to hide her interest with sarcasm), while Tina just vibed and enjoyed mr Frond's Jelly Babies.

#Bob's burgers #bobs burgers #bobs burgers fanart #Bob's burgers fanart #doctor who #Doctor who day #mr frond #phillip frond #tina belcher #louise belcher #gene belcher #the belchers #digital art #artists on tumblr #myrtini's art

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thebisexualdogdad · 8 months

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John Constantine x male!reader x Zatanna Zatara headcanons

*Matt Ryan as Constantine and Jade Tailor as Zatanna*

● 3 magicians/occultists sure make for a hell of an interesting relationship

● traveling around the world keeping the paranormal and supernatural at bay

● and always enjoying a good drink at the end of the day

● or before noon if it's just that kind of day

● which it often is because exorcisms can take a lot out of you

● going to Zatanna's magic shows and proudly cheering her on from the front row

● and always volunteering yourselves when she asks for audience participation

● John still gets a kick whenever she cuts him half

● when you or John annoy Zatanna she just casually drops a spell to turn you guys into rabbits

● "what did we do this time??"

● "you guys ate my leftovers again that I clearly labeled were mine!"

● Zatanna also has to stop you and John from doing stupid shit like when you drunkenly dare each other to try on doctor fates helmet

● "come on Z we weren't really gonna do it… again"

● Zatanna is extremely protective of her boys

● you've seen a lot of scary demons in your day but none are more terrifying than Zatanna when you or John are in danger

● John taking you and Zatanna to punk shows

● Zatanna pushing John into a mosh pit as a joke but he actually had a blast

● "bloody hell loves did you see that! That was awesome!!"

● stealing John's trench coat to mess with him

● "I would be mad because no one touches my coat but damn do you look good in it"

● and then one time you did a spell to swap John's and Zatannas outfit

● John was loving it "I mean it's a little tight on the boys but my ass sure looks good" he says as he's proudly checking himself out

● you've been banned from pretty much every movie theater because of John talking during the movie

● "he's the killer it's so obvious" he says as he throws popcorn at the screen

● "how can I be disturbing the other guests when this movie is bloody garbage!" He yells as you three are being escorted out by the usher

● it's not uncommon for one of you to find your partners surrounded by old books

● "what are we dealing with this time?"

● "not sure yet but in the last month there's been four mysterious deaths in Louisiana that we need to go check out"

● "I'll call Abby to see if she and alec can meet up with us, maybe they've heard something"

● "not that bloke again, he smells like a damn swamp"

● "John..."

● taking turns on who gets to be in the middle when you sleep

● but John always has to be the little spoon

● he refuses to be anything but the little spoon especially after sex

● and damn is the sex good

● using spells to make sex last all night long

● along with magically enhanced sex toys

● like self binding scarves

● magical wax that alternates between being hot and cold for the ultimate temp play

● or John being able to feel you inside him while you're fucking Zatanna

● Zatanna chanting spells that makes your bed float into the air

● you and John are sure to keep Zatanna thoroughly satisfied

● and Zatanna knows her way around a strap whenever she's in the mood to top you two

● John loves it when he gets a good pounding from both you and Zatanna

● and he will happily take one of you in his mouth while the other rails his ass

● lots of adrenaline filled sex after jobs go wrong and one of you nearly dies

● and pulling over to the side of the road to have sex in your car mid road trip to your next job after two of you have been fooling around in the backseat or one of you teasing the driver from the passenger seat

● so much sex around your magical safehouse in Atlanta

● which occasionally results in the unleashing of evil spirits when you accidentally knock over an mystical artifact

● "Oh that could have been really bad"

● "yeah we really dodged a bullet there but can you get back to going down on me now"

#dc imagine #john constantine x zatanna zatara x reader #john constantine imagine #john constantine x reader #zatanna zatara imagine #zatanna zatara x reader #x male reader #headcanons

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zeldahime · 2 months

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Highway to Pail Day 28

[Day 1] [Prev] [Next] @do-it-with-style-events

February 28: Shellfie.

Moving to the South Downs wasn't a permanent change—for beings as old as they were, nothing like this could be—but it went along with the real permanent change: that Aziraphale and Crowley could be together publicly, loudly, and nobody in Heaven or Hell could take it away from them or stop them. Aziraphale wouldn't Fall, neither of them would be tortured or punished or killed. They didn't have to duck around anymore, meeting in plausibly deniable ways. Crowley didn't have to leave the bookshop through the back in the dead of night so he could be seen emerging from his flat in the morning. Aziraphale didn't have to meticulously track every miracle he performed in the hopes of not exceeding his budget. They could hold hands.

Being allowed to touch, in public, was utterly intoxicating to them both.

And touch they did. Not just holding hands: Aziraphale was allowing his hair to grow, no longer required to keep it regulation-short, and Crowley fussed over it constantly, tying and untying and brushing and straightening and brushing flyaways into place; Aziraphale fixed Crowley's collar and cuffs, straightened his ties and scarves and pins. They walked arm-in-arm, like was once fashionable, or with arms around shoulders and waists, or hands resting on lower backs. When they talked they leaned in, hands on forearms, cheeks brushing.

They both smiled more, and more genuinely, truly and perfectly happy like neither of them had been since their creations; even more so, really, for all the years of experience behind them and for the pleasure of each other's love and company.

On a bright sunny spring day, Crowley suggested they go to down to the coast, and Aziraphale smiled and packed a picnic, and off they went.

The Bentley blasting You're My Best Friend on a loop the whole way (which irritated Aziraphale much more than Crowley, who was used to it), they headed straight down to Selsey to look out over the channel and get their toes wet. Aziraphale had changed into an old swimming costume, cream and powder blue alternating stripes ending at the elbows and knees, which he'd probably had since old Bertie had crowned at least; Crowley remained in his regular miracled suit, and intended to simply snap into a speedo if they went swimming.

Aziraphale's hand rested just above Crowley's knee the entire way, except when Crowley took sharp turns at a hundred miles per hour, when it did not rest so much as desperately cling for dear life.

The beach was deserted despite the sunshine, still too chilly to draw in human crowds. Aziraphale and Crowley walked along the coast hand-in-hand, looking out over the sea toward the Isle of Wight, the conversation meandering from the mechanics of plate tectonics (which neither of them understood) to a dinner party they once attended with Plato, from a confused discussion of Wales and whales to the plot of a Doctor Who episode Aziraphale had watched in 2007. This led Crowley to recount a blessing he'd done while stateside with the Dowlings, which reminded Aziraphale of a temptation he'd done in Czechoslovakia in 1983, which reminded Crowley of selfies. Crowley'd had a hand in selfies, tempting a young photographers to a bit of vanity, and it had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.

His phone was in his hands before he could finish his thought. He interrupted Aziraphale recounting the svíčková he'd had at a bistro in Prague with a command to "Smile, angel!" This earned him a confused look, Aziraphale turning to ask him why, blurrily captured with the tap of a button and a recorded sound effect of a shutter click.

"Whatever are you doing, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked crossly, irritated at the interruption, and Crowley showed him the screen.

The blurry photograph was a nightmare of composition, but Aziraphale immediately loved it more than any in the world, save one. Crowley was smiling, his eyes crinkled at the edge of his sunglasses, one arm visibly extended to hold the phone and the other intertwined with Aziraphale's, Aziraphale clearly beginning to face him. The first photograph of them had been taken at a moment of temporary relief, taken by an enemy and intended to be used against them. The second was pure freedom, pure happiness, taken by Crowley himself, simply because he'd wanted to.

"Oh," Aziraphale said, voice shaky.

"Yeah," was Crowley's equally shaky reply.

"My dear Crowley, you must print this out when we return to the cottage."

"I—Angel, this isn't the only one this phone can take, we can have a better—"

"I certainly hope we will, my dear Crowley," Aziraphale said softly. "And I want to print this one."

They looked at the phone, and then at each other, and smiled.

"Yeah. We'll print it."

Aziraphale had it framed. It hung as a set with an old photograph from the Second World War in their library, above a yellow Georgian chaise that held a mismatched throw blanket and cushion, one in red-and-black tartan and the other patterned with cream and blue snakes.

Author's note: This is what came up when I googled "czech food" and HOLY MACARONI IT SOUNDS DELICIOUS. I will be looking for a Czech restaurant that serves svíčková in my area stat.

#my writing #do it with style events #highway to pail #good omens #good omens fanfiction #south downs cottage #aziraphale #crowley good omens #air conditioning #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #azicrow

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helyiios · 17 days

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Ain’t not prayer, ain’t no God.

benji dunn/ethan hunt

post kashmir

“You’ve been wearing an awful lot of scarves and turtlenecks these days,” Ethan was jokingly noting, only just cleared from home rest for desk work. Hunley did not want to risk losing his best agent yet again, and with a total of two cracked ribs, every nurse and doctor around had decided to keep him far from the field duty, as much as possible. There was so much time one could keep agent Hunt away from the thrill, though. “It’s not particularly cold, too.”

Benji’s face is unreadable, which is odd, because he was an eager man. Someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, which was something that his friends admired and respected. The unexpected coldness in his clear irises almost made Ethan step back.

“I guess I caught a chill,” his friend finally replies, voice jovial, eyes dead. Which was unsettling, again, since nothing on his face smiled apart from his mouth. He looked like a puppet. “I’ll never get used to the chill of D.C.”

“I think they fit you,” Luther kindly adds, earning a distracted nod from Brandt. “Careful not to catch the flu, or something.”

“I’ll be fine,” Benji says, but he doesn’t laugh. He goes back to his work without another word, and Ethan frowns. He crosses the room in a few strides, closing the door behind them, trapping them in the wide office that had been commissioned for his team by higher ups.

The perks of saving the world, or something.

“Benji,” he declares, voice even, “you sure you’re okay ?”

That makes the other man smile, still cold as ever.

“Why, ‘course I am. Are you okay ?”

“What ?”

“Well, you did almost die, and y—“

“Hold up, pause,” Ethan cuts him off, raising his hands in front of him, “this isn’t about me.”

“Is it not ?”

“No !” he protests hotly, “no, it’s about—it’s about you. You’ve been off ever since I came back, or—or, I don’t know, maybe you were like that already, and I hadn’t noticed, but I just…” he drops his hands, “I worry.”

“Well,” Benji says, jaw tense, the muscle visible under the well trimmed beard, “you shouldn’t be, mate. I’m quite alright. Honest.”

“You don’t look it,” he insists, hand twitching, as if he was stopping himself from touching the other man. “You’ve lost weight, haven’t you ?”

“What ?”

“Well you—“ Ethan wets his lips, “you look…thinner. Not in a good way, you look—you look sick. Sort of.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say,” his friend jokes, tone calm. “Yes, if you must know, I lost a couple pounds.”

“Benji, that’s not good.”

“Ethan, mate, I’m not a kid. I’ll cope.”

Without even realising, Benji’s hands had shot up to his neck, almost holding it as he coughed into his elbow. The movement seemed to pain him, and that is when it clicks for Ethan.

He reaches out, index barely brushing against the other’s covered neck, and before he can prevent it, Benji’s jerking himself away from him, eyes wide and mouth agape, breathing loudly, biting his tongue as to not scream.

His posture is slouched, and his arms are raised protectively against himself. Like an animal caught in a cage.

“Benji,” Ethan starts, slow, careful, “what’s under the turtleneck ?”

No reply. The younger man is breathing heavily, and he’s boring holes into the wall behind Ethan.

“Benji.”

“It’s nothing,” Benji lies horribly, voice cracking on the last word. “Leave it alone.”

“You’re hiding something.”

And then, Benji sneers. His face is contorted horribly, and the sharp canine appears, although briefly, and he can’t help but scoff at the other man. He looks pained.

“I’m not hiding anything. You would know, had you cared.”

“I don’t—I don’t follow,” Ethan softly says, taking a step back. “Cared about what ?”

“It wasn’t fully in the mission’s briefing, I asked Ilsa not to mention it too thoroughly, but fuck, man, it’s like you didn’t give two shits about me,” Benji laughs, and he’s running a shaky hand through his hair. “I’m wearing a turtleneck to protect my skin.”

A frown.

“Here,” he says finally, slowly peeling off the think layer of clothing from his neck. “Have a look.”

And Ethan’s heart sinks. The purple, red and yellow scars around the milk white skin, horribly clashing with each other, actually look painful. They look like the small gust of wind would make them bleed.

Benji’s finger off from his cloth, and suddenly the neck is covered in black again. Or was it dark blue ?

“Got hanged,” he explains, like he was giving Ethan the fucking weather, “by Lane. In the small house. Ilsa was tied up, she fought him, I was hanging from a rope. I think I actually lost consciousness at some point, but I don’t remember exactly. I lost weight because I’ve been drinking soups exclusively for the last month. I can’t make my throat work too much.”

“Wh—Benji, I didn’t know, I—“

“Didn’t bother to ask. You didn’t bother to ask,” Benji cruelly corrects him. “It’s alright, I guess. Others did.”

“No, this isn’t like that,” Ethan mutters, walking towards him, holding the other’s arm, “I mean I—“ he closes his eyes, “I barely looked at the reports. I know I should’ve, and that’s on me, but I was sick, and I just…”

“Ethan. I said it was okay.”

“It’s not okay, Benji. You got—fuck, you got hanged !” he almost screams out, running a hand on his face, “and as you friend, and team leader I should’ve known. I should’ve asked.”

“It’s alright,” Benji continue, voice monotonous. “You had other priorities.”

Their eyes lock. They know what he means.

“It wasn’t. A priority, I mean.”

“It sure looked like it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“This is my fifth time saying it’s okay.”

“No, Benji,” Ethan insists, his grip on his arm barely stronger, “are you getting proper treatment ?”

Benji pauses, looking at his away bashfully.

“Do you…actually treat your wounds ? Do you eat the soup ?”

His questions are met by silence.

“Benji.”

“I was busy,” the other lies again.

“Christ,” Ethan swears, dropping his hand and grabbing Benji’s, “is it okay if I come by tonight ? To make you soup ?”

His friend almost laughs at this.

“Why the fuck would you come round my place to make me soup ?”

“Because you’re not taking care of yourself !”

“It really doesn’t ma—“

“It matters to me !” the other man clamours, “I wasn’t here for you ! I should’ve—God, Benj. I should’ve been there. I messed up. Let me help you with this much.”

“It’s whatever,” Benji shrugs, pretending like his ears and cheeks weren’t burning up. “It’s not that bad.”

“They look almost infected.”

“I don’t think rope burns can get infected,” he retorts, but finally settles on sighing.

“Sure, and I don’t want to test the theory,” Ethan counters, still holding his hands. “It’s almost 6pm. Let’s get out of here, yeah ? I’ll make you a great soup. I’m a decent cook.”

“You’re probably better than I am.”

“You know how to cook pasta, right ?”

“Sure. And rice. In a rice cooker.”

“That’s…a beginning,” his friend offers, smiling softly. “I’m sorry again.”

“I know you are.”

“You matter to me, Benji.”

“I know,” he lies.

“You don’t.”

“I do, I just—“ Benji shrugs, “tend to forget it. Or something. Anyway, weren’t we getting out of here ?”

“I’ll prove it to you,” Ethan adds, eyes beautiful and shining with genuine passion. “That I care.”

Benji doesn’t answer, but the way Ethan’s fingers curl around his tells enough.

#mission impossible #mission impossible fic #benthan #benji dunn #ethan hunt

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