#sobbing extensively and wailing loudly at the thought

[stevesharrlngtons]

Can’t stop thinking about how we will never know Shiv through her pregnancy, when she gives birth, see her hold her child for the first time… will Tom even be there? Will Roman? Her mother? Or will be still be all alone?

#sobbing extensively and wailing loudly at the thought #she won’t want to be vulnerable around anyone obviously so I’m sure she is going to write off giving birth completely #but when it’s happening… will she feel scared? alone? unable to cope????? #shiv roy

[rocorambles]

Thinking Outside the Box

Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Humiliation, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Mentioned/Implied Chastity Belt, Mentioned/Implied Sex Toys, Mentioned/Implied Isolation Bondage, Objectification, Choking/Breath Play, Overstimulation, Cum Play, Misuse of a Casket...At Best a Dubious Use of a Casket

Summary: Matsukawa rails you in a pretty casket. That’s it. That’s the plot.

A/N: The original request for this was a coffin, but I took some artistic liberty and changed it to a casket because a coffin just seemed SO uncomfy (I say as if I think casket sex is much comfier ROFL).  

You smile as you reach over to grab the proffered bag of takeout you’d ordered, excitedly sniffing the delicious scent of a hot and freshly prepared meal wafting from the hefty paper bag before exiting the restaurant and making your way to your boyfriend’s workplace. Matsukawa has been almost radio silent the past few days and your heart warms from the fact that despite how stressed and overworked you know he is, he had still never failed to send you a good morning and a good night text every day. So when he had sent an apologetic text telling you he’d have to miss your weekly date night, you had offered to pick up dinner and bring it to him so the two of you could at least see each other and so that you could make sure he was taking care of himself in person. And you laughed at how quick he was to eagerly agree. 

Ignoring the closed sign on the funeral home’s front door, you walk through the front entrance you know your boyfriend had left unlocked for you and wander through the furnished halls and rooms, noting how there’s not a single soul left in the building. Guess Matsukawa wasn’t kidding when he said the place was currently shorthanded, hence his hectic schedule. It’s eerie walking through the dark and empty corridors, passing rooms you know had housed countless corpses and grieving people and it only grows creepier as you make your way to the basement where your boyfriend currently is. 

Unlike the floors above that are at least carpeted and kept aesthetically pleasing, there’s no such care for the cold and sterile basement where all the more morbid dealings happen and you nervously gulp as you walk down the poorly lit walkway, breaking into a run when you see the light peeking out from the door you know Matsukawa is working away in. And suddenly it’s really not all that scary anymore as you swing open the door and bite back a giggle from how absurd your tall boyfriend looks, scowling down at a pale lilac and silver casket like it had personally affronted him. 

You’re quick to carefully place dinner on his desk before making your way towards him, sweetly pulling him down for a kiss before wrapping your arms around him and joining him in peering down at the casket, looking up at him with a questioning gaze when you see nothing out of the ordinary. 

You rub soothing circles on his back as he loudly sighs, shoulder slumping and melting into your touch. 

“My client doesn’t want this casket anymore since it isn’t ‘purple’ enough and I can’t return it because it’s past the grace period, so now I have to figure out what to do with this thing.” 

Furrowing your brows, you pull away from him much to Matsukawa’s chagrin, running your fingers over the plush velvet lining and taking a closer look at the colors and detailing. 

“Really? They don’t like it? I actually think it’s really pretty. Well, as pretty as a casket can be anyway. I didn’t even know they came in this color!” 

You keep rambling on, appraising the casket, eyes so focused on the object in front of you that you don’t notice a dark and inquisitive look in your lover’s eyes as he intently studies the pretty picture you make as you bend over the lilac container, gaze roaming over your figure as arousal stirs inside of him. 

How long had it been since he tasted you, touched you, ravished you? 

Far too long. 

Matsukawa and you have a healthy sex life. You suppose that’s a massive understatement considering the extensive “play room” he has in his apartment and the fact that you’re almost a permanent fixture inside of said dungeon. But between work and life recently, neither of you have had the time to fool around and he can feel the effects of that denial rearing inside of him as you prance around in front of him, so innocent, so clueless of the filthy thoughts racing around his mind.    

You squeal, clinging tightly to Matsukawa’s shirt as you’re scooped up bridal style, unsure what’s happening, but you blankly stare in shock as you’re gently laid inside the coffin, easily letting your arms fall limply by your sides when your boyfriend brushes your grip off of him. It’s startling to suddenly be flat on your back, but you whimper as you finally come back to your senses, shuffling around a bit to find a more comfortable position, arms brushing against the firm velvety sides, reminding you exactly what position you’re in and where you’re lying. You feel trapped, vulnerable, small, defenseless as you stare up wide eyed at Matsukawa from your new position. 

He’s always loomed over you, tall muscular body always overwhelming you, but like this he seems inhumanly enormous and humiliation washes over you as you feel your thighs instinctively clench, lust pooling inside of you at the familiar predatory leer he’s pinning you down with despite how wrong, how sinful it feels to be aroused in a coffin, in a funeral home, in a place of death and respect. 

“You look so pretty in there. Maybe I should take this casket home with us, stuff you with a dildo and a plug, keep them inside of you with your chastity belt and keep you locked up in here when I’m not using you. Treat you like the fuck toy you really are.” 

He means it half jokingly, but he can feel his cock twitch, pants instantly tightening at the way you literally whine in arousal at his words. His eyes widen briefly in surprise before relaxing and a razor sharp grin pierces his face and he almost feels giddy with sadistic glee. You always do react so adorably whenever he treats you meanly and he cruelly laughs at your lewd moan when he calls you a fucking slut as he reaches in to swiftly help you completely remove your pesky clothing.   

You’re always beautiful, but there’s something breathtakingly gorgeous and forbidden about the way your bare body looks against the lilac velvet backdrop, how the coffin walls frame and trap your body, displaying you like a mindless doll. His body moves on auto pilot, hasty and sloppy as he practically dives headfirst to join you in the small space, groaning as you wantonly rub and grind against his body as soon as he’s in close proximity, hands scrambling to shove down his pants and boxers just enough for his cock to spring out. 

He smirks at the way your hips arch, desperately shaking against his now freed length. And despite how tempting it is to just thrust into you, he takes his time to torment you, hovering over you just far enough that you can’t easily make contact with him, slapping your dripping pussy with his cock, laughing at how you wantonly hump the air in search for more. You really are an insatiable thing, aren’t you? 

You gasp as a large calloused hand wraps around your neck, tightening more and more until your body begins to writhe for a different reason than the coiling lust inside of you, black spots dancing across your vision as you struggle to breathe. But even in the midst of your predicament you hear his words clear as day. 

“When I keep you stored and locked away in the casket, I’ll make sure to drill a few tiny holes for you. Wouldn’t want my little toy to actually die on me before I get my full use out of her. It’ll still be a little hard to breathe, but you don’t mind, right? You always get so wet when I choke you.” 

To emphasize his point, his free hand not gripping your neck trails down your body and you wail when he easily slides two long fingers inside of you, the slick sound of him thrusting in and out of you permeating throughout the room.  

“I knew you were a slut, but this is filthy even for you. I can’t believe you’re this turned on from the idea of being my sex toy. Since you want it so bad, let me make your dreams come true, princess.” 

There’s nothing gentle about the way he suddenly slams his cock inside of you, immediately bottoming out, and you scream as his balls slap against your ass, eyes rolling back in your head from the sudden feeling of being stuffed full. Your lover is well-endowed and no matter how many times he takes you, it’s a stretch, but the pleasant ache of your walls being forcefully stretched, the feeling of being used as nothing more than a rag doll only propels your lustful end closer. 

Matsukawa groans as your cunt clamps down around him, almost making it impossible for him to piston in and out of you at the brutal pace he desires. It’s intoxicating, freeing, being able to just lose himself in the feeling of your tight walls and he knows he’s being rougher than he should be, hips crashing against yours with every violent thrust, but he can’t help it, finding peace in the sex-crazed haze, no thoughts of work or stress on his mind as he uses you to chase his own end. And it’s not like you mind if your loud moans are anything to go by and he keeps on thrusting in and out of you, even after you topple off that dangerously high cliff, drowning in pleasure as you convulse and cum all over his cock. 

But he doesn’t slow down, relentlessly pounding into you as you ride out the pleasurable waves and you feel like little more than an animal as you sob and drool, overstimulation washing over you, pain and pleasure breaking you as you deliriously beg for more, for him to stop, unable to decide between the two as your body thrashes from the overwhelming feelings bubbling up inside of you. And all it takes is one more look at your lewd disheveled face, the evidence of how thoroughly he’s ruined you, to have Matsukawa joining you over the edge, thrusting one last time and plugging you with his cock as he paints your insides with thick white spurts. 

Exhausted, he slumps down on top of your still trembling body and you welcome the warm and comforting blanket of his presence as he murmurs sweet praises into your ears, snuggling into his affectionate and tender caresses, heavy eyelids fluttering shut. But you fight the drowsiness as he softly kisses you, regret and apologies on the tip of his tongue for being so rough without warning that you wave away as you give him a dopey blissed out grin, pulling him down for another kiss before cuddling up to him once more. 

He’s careful when he finally pulls out of you, making sure none of his seed spills on the coffin lining and your face heats as you obediently listen to his gentle command for you to cup your pussy and keep all of his cum inside of you as he pulls up his boxers and pants. It’s arousing and humiliating how his dark eyes attentively stare at your used and naked body as he glides your panties back up your legs, nudging your hands away from the apex of your thighs as he snugly pulls your panties up, effectively trapping the thick fluid inside of you as he lifts you out of the casket before helping you dress and ushering you over to the desk where the now lukewarm food rests. 

He fondly smiles as you refuse to leave his lap, curling into a tighter ball when he urges you to sit in the second chair he’s pulled up to his desk and eat, staring at up at him with big pleading eyes as you cutely open your mouth like a baby bird begging for food from its mother. And how can he refuse when he knows that you’ll be aching and limping for days after this because of him? 

So he just playfully rolls his eyes as he brings a fork full of food to your mouth, snorting at how exaggerated and dramatic your happy dance and reaction to the first bite is, alternating between feeding himself and you. But he freezes, almost dropping the fork in shock when halfway through the meal you shyly ask him if he was serious about keeping the coffin at home, dark eyes snapping towards you, searching for any hint of jest only to be met with a curious gleam, a glimmer of hope. 

No one at the funeral home ever asks Matsukawa what he ended up doing with the unwanted casket and he supposes it’s for the best, mind drifting and daydreaming about the new piece of furniture now on display in his special room, currently occupied by his most prized possession. 

Suddenly work can’t be over soon enough.

#haikyuu smut #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa smut #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #matsukawa #matsukawa issei #haikyuu x reader

[spamtoninc]

thought i’d try out a short writing piece like this so i did.

he/it spamton & they/them swatch. 551 words. set post-ch2 where spamton is roomies with swatch now

summary: swatch thinks back on one of the many times spamton gave them a scare.

A Stressful [OrDEAL]MAKER

The two of them had been living together for some time now, but never failed to learn something new about the other. Somehow, there was always something not completely revealed.

The first time Spamton had reverted into the DEALMAKER, Swatch had thought he had dusted.

It was a particularly bad moment for the Addison. The air buzzed with magic. He had pulled at his hair and cried like Swatch had never seen. Static filled any gaps of sound between the garbled wails that were constantly interrupted with glitches. Its anguish was so strong that it felt like a kick to the face for the avian darkner, but Swatch had done their best to help him through it. They gently held it and avowed soothing promises until little remained of his sobs but hiccuping breaths.

When Spamton clutched at their suit, they hummed to fill the silence. It slouched limply in the crook of their elbow while they retrieved a blanket, absolutely exhausted.

When Swatch gently petted his back, the smaller darkner settled on their chest, its jacket glowing white at the contact as data spilled off of him. It was alarming at best, and he had grimaced in discomfort. They pulled the blanket back to find most of its legs gone, fizzling out in strings of fading code.

They had called out his name. He had told them it would be back later, whatever that meant.

And then nothing remained but the signature pair of glasses, pulsing with magic.

They had cried. For several minutes they cradled the item, whimpering horrified nothings and cooing the desperate sounds only Swatchlings could make. Until finally, they had been interrupted by a familiar voice.

“IM [A-Okay!!!] SORRY TO MAKEYOU [Worry].” He had reassured. Swatch had believed they were hallucinating for a moment. “I JUST NEED TO [Battery low].”

They had breathed a sigh of relief and scolded it. He had never warned them that this could happen. Spamton apologized several more times, to their remission. It admitted to being under substantial stress the past month, and that his meltdown had been the final straw. It could take upwards of a few days to mitigate the effects, and it would probably be stuck in this form until then.

The next few days were arduous.

When Swatch didn’t keep Spamton hooked in their pocket, they had him encircled in a blanket or tucked away somewhere soft and safe. It was dormant for most of the time, but occasionally would surprise them or start rambling about who knows what. He certainly picked the worst times; more than once did Spamton scare them at work and, by extension, scare a poor Swatchling or two.

Four days later did it finally return to normal. The butler finished getting ready for bed to find their little companion wrapped in a blanket in the center of their bed. It certainly didn’t help that he was cold to the touch, shivering so much that they could mistake the sound for a loudly-vibrating cellphone.

It was easier to sleep that night, with the Addison huddled under their shirt. They couldn’t blame him, but it felt like an ice pack against their chest. Nonetheless, they cradled him like a stuffed toy as they did most nights, and that was the end of the ordeal.

#spamton #swatch #deltarune #deltarune ch 2 #swatchton #domestic swatchton #close friends but maybe romantic if you squint hard enough idk #writing

[gayoperatorgunclub]

If you are doing requests, could you please do Prompt 36 with Ace/Maverick?

so this has taken a while, huh. i sincerely apologize, i’ve been swamped with school and a lack of motivation, but i think i’m back for the time being!! since i didn’t know which prompt list you were referring to, i’ve done prompt #36 from the two lists i reblogged most recently!! hopefully you’re still around to enjoy 💖💖💖

here are the prompts: 

from a regular ol’ prompt list: #36 - “When you touch me, I feel a little less broken.”

from 50 reasons to have sex (aka smut prompts): #36 - Practice.

If you had come up to Erik a few years ago, and told him that in a couple years he’d be a part of an international anti-terrorism unit, and in that unit, he’d meet some sexy twink of a Norwegian that would immediately begin flirting (downright offensively he might add), Erik would start laughing. If you’d told Erik that this Norwegian would show up at his apartment, on the brink of a breakdown, and thrown himself into Erik’s arms, sobbing, Erik would’ve told you to leave him alone. 

And yet, here he was. Months after what he affectionately refers to as “The day I realized Håvard looks hot as fuck when he cries, and the period of self-reflection that followed”. Months after finally accepting Håvard’s constant offers of “a night to remember”, much to Håvard’s (adorable) surprise and delight. Erik was laying in bed, arms wrapped around Håvard in a bear hug, with Håvard curled into his chest. Erik had just returned from a mission, and immediately after he’d opened the door, Håvard had jumped into his arms, kissing him all over. Now, Håvard was running his fingers up and down Erik’s chest. The gentle, repetitive motions reminded Erik of something he’d been meaning to tell Håvard for a long time. He cleared his throat. 

“When you touch me, I feel a little less broken.” 

Håvard was gazing up at him now, big blue eyes brimming with love. 

“What’s brought this up? Do I need to be more careful with you? My little porcelain Erik doll?” 

Erik sighed loudly, much to Håvard’s delight.

“And now the moment’s passed. Don’t complain the next time you try to be sappy and I respond with some stupid shit.”

Håvard was pouting now, turning the full force of his puppy dog eyes on Erik.

“Fine. I will be sappy as well, and then we will be even.” Håvard blushed deeply, “When you hold me like you are right now, I feel safe. When I’m with you, I feel like I can really be myself.” 

Erik reached up and cupped Håvard’s face, brushing his thumb across his cheek. Håvard pressed his face into Erik’s hand, bringing his own up to hold it there. He settled back down into Erik’s embrace, still holding his hand to his face. As Håvard’s breathing evened out, Erik leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head, murmuring a quick “I love you” into his hair.

In response, Håvard mumbles out a series of noises that Erik chooses to interpret as “I love you too”.

-

That’s prompt #1!! Next up: Prompt #2, this time they do the do!!

-

Håvard was plotting something, Erik just knew it. 

They had been together for a few months, and Håvard already seemed- not bored, but unchallenged. 

So, in typical Håvard fashion, a plan had been set into motion. Erik had no idea what it was, just that it had involved multiple trips to Doc’s office (concerning), a period of extensive note-taking (Håvard wouldn’t let him see what exactly was being studied so feverishly), and a seemingly unrelated obsession with Erik’s kinks. 

Yeah, Håvard is definitely plotting something. And whatever it is, it can’t be good. 

This thought process brings Erik back to the present, where he is staring Håvard in the eyes, mouth agape, trying to process what he’s just heard. 

He collects himself and speaks before Håvard has the chance to drop any more bombshells. 

“Okay, okay, hang on a second.” He rubs his hands over his face, pleading with the universe to make sense for once. “You mean to tell me that you’re a virgin.”

A nod from Håvard. 

“And you’ve never been in a relationship that’s gotten as serious as ours, so you’ve never really considered sex with a significant other before.” 

Another nod from Håvard. 

“You’ve never even just...... hooked up with someone? Just for the night?”

A shake of the head, now accompanied by a cute blush. 

Great, Erik thinks, he looks fuckable when he’s embarrassed. 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

Håvard clears his throat. 

“I would like to be..... intimate..... with you, but I lack experience. So, I have been researching techniques, as well as things that you enjoy, but I still don’t know if I’ll be good enough.” 

Good LORD, was he trying to kill him?! All of this plotting had been for Erik? God, Håvard could be sweet when he wasn’t focused on what others thought of him. 

In the meantime, Erik had a very sexy and very nervous Norwegian on his hands, and he intended to assuade any fears of inadequacy he had. 

“Håvard. You don’t have to worry about whether or not you’re good in bed. I love you for you, no matter how great your ass is.” Great, that got a giggle. Now to move in for the kill. “However, if you wanted to practice your skills in the realm of pleasure, then I’d be more than happy to model for you.” 

Håvard’s eyes got big. He whimpered a little, squirming on the couch, and Erik knew he had him. 

“Why don’t we start off with blowjobs? Today, I can focus on how to use your tongue to add to the overall experience. How’s that sound?”

Håvard moaned in agreement, nodding feverishly. 

“Great. Go ahead and strip for me, pretty boy. Now, have you been tested recently?” Håvard nods as he struggles with his pants. Erik walks over and places a hand on top of Håvard’s, squeezing it reassuringly. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. This is about you getting more comfortable with sex, right? So just relax and let me make you feel good.” He leaned in for a kiss, and smiled when Håvard moaned softly into his mouth. “I’m guessing your tests came back clean?” A nod from a now naked Håvard. “Got it. I’m clean too, so we don’t have to worry about condoms or dental dams, but usually you’d want to have one or both before you do anything involving your mouth and another person’s dick, ass, or pussy.” Erik began stripping as well, quick and efficient, and soon he had a hand on Håvard’s chest and was pushing him back onto the couch.

“Now, you don’t need to be naked to have sex. But I figured today we would get to know each other’s bodies a bit more, so the less between us the better.” With that, he dropped to his knees in front of Håvard, rubbing up and down the other man’s thighs in an effort to calm him down and get him used to being touched there. 

“I’m gonna start now. Promise me you’ll tell me if and when you want to stop.” 

Håvard gulped nervously. 

“Why would I want to stop? Will it hurt?”

Erik pressed a kiss to his knee, continuing his massage. 

“No, it won’t hurt, but it might be a bit intense, and that’s completely normal. Just let me know and we’ll switch to something else.” 

Håvard nodded, seemingly steeling himself for what was about to happen. 

“Okay. I’ll let you know if it gets to be too much.” 

Erik nodded, then ran his tongue up the length of Håvard’s cock, delighting in the loud moan he received in return. He set to work, rubbing his tongue over every bit of flesh he can reach. He pulls back for a second to lick his palm, then starts stroking Håvard while he explains what he just did. 

“So, what I like to do is get everything nice and wet before I really get into the blowjob itself. There are a lot of ways to do it, including flavored lube, but right now I my tongue will have to be enough. You have such a pretty cock, Håvard. Such a cute little cock.” With that, he gets back to work, this time sucking on the head, working his tongue into the slit, and rubbing at whatever he didn’t have in his mouth. It had been a while since Erik had been the one giving head, but he had some experience. He could get used to this. 

Meanwhile, Håvard was having a religious experience. He was trembling, trying desperately not to fuck up into Erik’s mouth without warning, but unable to collect himself enough to do anything but wail. Erik finally took notice of Håvard’s state, and pulled off. 

“Hey. Do you want to come in my mouth?” Håvard’s cock twitched so violently it almost hit Erik in the face. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckled, this time swallowing Håvard down to the hilt. 

Håvard’s whole body seized up, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he wailed Erik’s name. Erik swallowed it all, then pulled back, grabbing a tissue to wipe his mouth before laying down on the couch next to a semi-conscious Håvard. He maneuvred them both so that Håvard could curl up on his chest. Håvard made a small noise of protest. 

“Kjæreste, you’re still hard.” 

Erik hushed him, wrapping him in a bear hug. 

“You don’t have to worry about that, just rest now. I’ll quiz you on what you’ve learned once you’ve taken a nap.”

#ask #smol-mozzie #ass alert! #r6s maverick #r6s ace #maverick/ace #thank you for interacting!

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 54

I’m still upstairs when Daryl finds me. Standing at the window, staring at the digging of graves I have to wonder if they’re making extras. I can feel him watching me, even if he’s as silent as he’s ever been. I can sense that he has more questions than I care to answer. I know he’s hoping that I’m still the woman he fell in love with, the one who takes the pain from everyone, their guilt, their worries.

When I turn around, he’s leaning against the closed door. His hair’s too shaggy. He looks tired and dirty, but he looks like Daryl, too. The Daryl that I fell in love with, the man who I told Negan I would never forget. The mere thought of Negan causes me to flinch with the pain of losing him, and Daryl sees it, and moves forward.

“Please don’t.” My voice is quiet, rough from sobbing. “I know you want to ask me about it, Daryl, but can I have some time?” I can see the pain in his eyes from me stopping his progress toward me, the uncertainty at my request. “I’ll tell you, soon, I promise.” I just need time, I plead internally, time for it to not be so raw.

“Anything ya need, Jessi.” He answers, and my heart clenches. I’m going to break him apart when I tell him. I’m going to make the softness in his eyes for me turn hard. I’m going to see the look of betrayal flash. And I’m going to have to bear it all alone.

He leaves, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy and I slide down the wall beside the window to the floor. Why am I here? Why am I staying? For Judith, I remind myself. For my little sister, the only sibling I have left, the one I’d promised myself to keep innocent of the realities of our world for as long as possible. I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall. I had to find strength in her. Otherwise, I’d fall to pieces and retreat into myself. She had to matter more than my grief. More than my pain. More than my heart shattering.

Maggie comes upstairs with Judith in her arms. I’m still against the wall, still lost in my own thoughts. Carl’s words swimming together with the last time I saw Negan. His promise to return to me morphing into Carl’s wish for peace and certainty that I was the key.

“Hey,” she’s quiet, and it reminds me of the wife that had greeted me at the Sanctuary. Wary, as though I’m a caged animal. I look up and see a tiny smile on her lips. “Thought you’d like to have her back.”

My arms reach up automatically and I smile when Judith practically leaps into them. Sitting her facing me, letting her play with my long braid, I memorize the changes that I hadn’t when Negan had given me the time with her in Alexandria. Her curls were getting so long. Her pout getting fuller. And those eyes. Dear Lord, she had Carl’s eyes.

“Never got a chance to thank you.” Maggie was still here, sitting cross legged across from me.

“Didn’t need to.” I answer, making a face at Judith to see if she’d laugh. She does and I feel a sliver of peace. “How’s the baby?” I remember the whole reason for her coming to Hilltop, the lack of their doctor, that I’m sure she’s still angry with Negan over.

“We’re good, Jessi.” I know she’s studying me. I know that she’s looking for changes in me. “Glenn’s alive because of you.” As though I need reminding. “Why did you-”

I glance up and see it. The question that is on every single one of their minds. Why did I offer my life? “I wanted to die, and I was too cowardly to do it myself.” She flinches, and I shrug. Don’t ask if you don’t want to know.

“Do you know-” she starts and I know the second question on everyone’s minds. Why didn’t he kill me?

My eyes meet hers. “Why didn’t Negan kill me?” Her smile is gone. “He saw something that no one else did.” Another shrug from me, if I pretend it isn’t a big deal, perhaps she’ll spread the word and I won’t have to answer it again.

She leaves soon after. Alone with Judith, bouncing her slightly on my lap, I wait. I know that my visitors have only just begun. I tell my baby sister stories that I’d once told Carl. About bunnies and deer, about princesses, the thought of the word alone makes me flinch and I can hear Negan’s voice, and princes and castles. I tell her stories about Lori, about Dad, about Carl, and about BEFORE.

“Remember,” Dad’s voice cuts in as I’m telling her about Carl’s favorite game, “remember when the two of you fought over the hiding spot so loudly that the neighborhood kids found you before you even knew the counting was over?” I chuckle and glance up. “I’m sorry.” I have no idea what the apology is for, so I say nothing. “Jessi, I’m sorry that-” he closes his eyes, and I watch as he rubs his face with his hand and my heart lurches at the now familiar gesture. “It’s-”

“It’s fine.” I answer, hearing pain in my own voice. Pain that I’m not sure he can decide the source of, because I’m not sure he wants to know. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?” He’s moved to sit beside me, under the window. “You look better than-”

“Yeah,” I nod. “I’m better,” even if my heart is in tatters. “Weirdest therapist in the history of therapy, but I’m better.” I see a flash of Negan across from me on the sofa in his apartment, dimples peeking at me, eyes dark.

“You went to the Kingdom.” Carol told him, of course, or maybe Ezekiel. I don’t answer. “Why-”

Judith has grown tired and is cradled against my chest, and I feel her sucking on her fist. “I didn’t think I’d be very welcome in Alexandria.” My hand is on the back of Judith’s head, sliding through her curls with my fingers, soothing both of us.

“Jessi,” I can hear his pain, but I shake it off. I can’t, not anymore. “They didn’t-”

“Trust me?” My voice stays quiet, I will keep my promise to keep Judith safe. “Understand why?” I give a soft snort. “Yeah, I know.”

I hear him sigh. “You’re staying.” It’s not a question, it’s a command. And I nod.

When Dad leaves, I put Judith down on the bed in the room and lay beside her. Her tiny body, relaxed in sleep, is entirely precious to me. I watch as she makes a sucking motion with her mouth, and smile. I will die before she knows how cruel the world can be. Or I will prepare her so she won’t be broken by it, not like I was.

I fall asleep with her near me. I let my exhaustion take over, my hand on her stomach, the steady rise and fall of her breathing lulling me into a more peaceful rest than I’d had since the first time Negan and I made love.

The screams wake me up, Judith’s startled awake and is wailing. I pull her to me, and know, without a doubt that it’s begun. The infected have risen, and they have started to create the havoc that Simon was so gleeful about. I move toward the door, trying to soothe Judith’s screams, while trying to see if I can lock us in. I can hear it, as I get closer, the turning of the handle and I hope against hope that this isn’t the end.

Morning dawns and the carnage is extensive. One of the wounded was in the main house. A house that Judith and I were in, and he had attacked the people sleeping on the main floor. Another wounded had run rampant in the infirmary, and now the doctor and an assistant are dead as well. More graves, more fear.

I watch from the upstairs window as they dig. As the bodies of the dead are laid to rest. As more and more death surrounds us. We’d been lucky, Judith and I, the person who opened the bedroom door, had been friend and not unthinking monster. Not everyone was so lucky.

When I finally go downstairs, I learn that Tara has been wounded. I listen, leaning against the wall as she says she’s made peace with her fate. When Daryl sees me, I meet his gaze and I know what’s needed. Me and Pandora. Hope.

I hand Judith to him and take Tara for a walk. She looks slightly uncomfortable with me at first and I push that aside. I can’t deal with my own feelings about someone not knowing me or my motives, not when she seems so keen to die.

“Denise?” I start, and I see her flinch. I’m sure I do the same when Negan’s mentioned, or alluded to. “I know what that kind of loss makes a person think.” I can feel her eyes focus on me. “It makes you think about how sweet your reunion will be. Even if you’re not religious, even if you didn’t believe in the afterlife before, there’s that pull to join them.” We’re still walking, but I can tell her attention is focused on me. “Because even if there’s NOTHING after you leave this world, it has to be better than the pain.” I can hear it, lurking in the darkness of my own mind, the yearning to join him or it. “Tara?”

She’s stopped moving, standing beside me looking out of the gate. “Jessi?”

“Would she want you to give up?” I ask, as inside I’m asking myself the same question about Negan. About Carl. About Lori. “Would Denise think that this world would be better off if you were gone, even if it meant you’d be with her?” Would they? Would they want me to join them, or the darkness, or would they want me to fight?

Our eyes were focused on the landscape, but we were silent. I’d given Tara something to consider, and I’d given myself something to think about too.

When I make my way back to the main house, I see Daryl holding Judith on the porch and watching me. Climbing the steps, I open my arms and grin when she leaps toward me again. “She missed ya.” He’s still quiet and unsure with me. “We all did.”

I close my eyes, fighting the urge to remind him that I’m not blind. “I missed her too.” I leave it at that. I can’t. Not yet. “I think Tara heard me.” I offer, letting him know I did my part. “She’s got to make her own mind up, though.”

I can feel his eyes on me, but I’ve turned to look out over the community. “Ya were always good at it.” I nod. I know. “Maybe I shouldn’t of asked-”

I shake my head. “Everyone has a purpose, Daryl.” And I turn to the door and offer, “this is mine.” I walk inside, bouncing Judith and focusing on her again.

I learn later, after I’ve put Judith down for her nap, that Ezekiel’s adopted son Henry has run off. I learn that some of the prisoners have escaped. And I find out that Dad and Morgan have gone after the prisoners, while Carol has gone in search of Henry. Ezekiel, feeling that I should be given more information, tells me this as I lean against the banister of the porch.

“I’m used to it, you know?” I ask, as he stands beside me. “Them scattering without a glance back, without a goodbye.”

He’s nodding, but he tries to reassure me. “I’m sure they-”

“Don’t even think about the possibility that they could NOT come back?” I turn to face him. “With death lurking around every corner, do you think that’s a great strategy?” I watch him study me. “Has Dad told you about our mom?” I wonder how much my dad has told his allies about our past. His eyes tell me he hasn’t. “She died giving birth to Judith, in a prison that we took for sanctuary.” The word nearly chokes me. “She died, surrounded by dead walking around like puppets for blood and flesh, and Carl-” I swallow back the pain of his name. “He had to put her down. He was twelve.” I can see the discomfort on his face. “Dad NEVER got to say goodbye to her, Ezekiel. And he was tormented by it. He hallucinated her presence. He heard her voice on a silent phone. He nearly went insane from it.” I turned back to face out toward the domestic scene of people working to rebuild. “You’d think at least he would understand, wouldn’t you?”

#The Walking Dead #negan x ofc #rick grimes daughter #OriginalGrimesDaughter #daryl dixon x ofc #grief/mourning

[isitgintimeyet]

Road To The Aisles

AO3

Previous

Thanks for sticking with this story. Hope you enjoy.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge @happytoobserve @wickedgoodbooks for the support

Chapter 15: An Ominous Objective

“It is a long way off, sir" 

"From what Jane?"

"From England and from Thornfield: and ___"

"Well?"

"From you, sir”

Charlotte Brontë - Jane Eyre

Jamie glared at the stationary traffic in front of him. Driving through Glasgow city centre at five on a Friday afternoon was definitely not on his list of favourite things to be doing. He loosened his tie and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. What he really wanted to be doing right now involved a glass of wine, a shower and a naked Claire. Actually, no, he corrected himself. What he really wanted was playtime with William and then, once the lad was asleep in his cot, the wine, shower and naked Claire.

The journey across the city to pick William up was a total pain, but at least Jamie knew it would be coming to an end once William started nursery. It was fortunate that the nursery he and Geneva had selected was midway between their respective homes. Jamie felt that was more by luck than judgement. Geneva would never have deliberately considered making it easier for him in any way. And if he hadn’t been contributing half towards fees, he doubted he would have had any input at all into nursery selection.

This ‘midway’ nursery had ticked all the boxes on Geneva’s extensive checklist and she had been suitably impressed by the calibre of the cars at pick up time. Jamie had been more concerned with the calibre of the nursery staff that would be caring for his son, but the nursery scored highly on all fronts.

As the red brake lights on the cars in front disappeared, Jamie crept forward, grinding to a halt after a couple of yards. He sighed loudly. Geneva was a stickler for good timekeeping, and if this traffic continued, he would be late and undoubtedly earn a ‘talking to’ on parental commitment. Still, it was worth any amount of ‘Geneva-isms’ to be able to spend time with his son.

He considered their plans for this weekend. Friday night was obviously taken care of (playtime, wine, shower, naked Claire). As Claire was working on Sunday, Jamie planned to take William swimming for the first time. He smiled at the thought of the cute swimming nappy, covered with brightly coloured fish, in the chest of drawers at home ready for his son. He hadn’t quite figured out the logistics of getting a five month old baby dry and dressed at the same time as getting himself dry and dressed, but assumed there were facilities at the swimming pool to cope with that.

Finally, the traffic started moving and Jamie pulled up outside Geneva’s house with three minutes to spare. Feeling slightly wrinkled and sweaty, he rang the doorbell.

“Hello, James.”

The sight of Louisa Dunsany caught Jamie off-guard.

“Louisa,” Jamie greeted her politely. “I didna realise ye were up here visiting.”

She looked him up and down, making him feel self-conscious about any possible sweat patches on his shirt. He pushed that thought from his mind. He was here to collect his son, not to be judged by the boy’s disagreeable grandmother.

“There’s no reason why you would know that. Geneva doesn’t have to notify you of her social calendar.”

Louisa stepped aside to allow Jamie into the hallway before leading him into the living room.

“Actually,” Louisa carried on talking over her shoulder. “I’m here to help Geneva out. She’s not here today, so I’ve been taking care of my grandson.”

Jamie rushed across the room to where William sat in his little seat. He quickly scooped him up and held him tightly, blowing loud raspberries against his son’s soft cheeks. William chuckled and grabbed a fistful of his father’s curls.

Louisa sniffed. “So that’s where he’s learnt that trick from, is it?”

There was no humour in her voice.

Jamie paid no attention and carried on entertaining William.

“She’s flown down to Manchester for the day,” Louisa spoke without prompting. “To discuss an exciting opportunity for her, moving forward.”

Jamie suddenly stopped tickling the baby and gave Louisa his full attention.

“What do ye mean?”

“Oh, may be nothing. We’ll just have to wait and see. I’ll go and fetch William’s cardigan. We don’t want him catching a chill.”

No amount of questioning on Jamie’s part could make Louisa provide any more information. He tried repeatedly as they headed to the front door but, for once, Louisa was as silent as the grave.

He drove slowly home, trying to focus on the road while William babbled and cooed in the back of the car. Louisa’s comment kept circling in his mind which, he supposed, had been her intention -- to turn a potentially innocent activity of Geneva’s into something for Jamie to worry and fret about. Which she has managed successfully, he told himself and tried to push those thoughts away and concentrate on his ongoing project of teaching William to say ‘dada’.

***********

Claire was waiting as he came into the house carrying William in his car seat.

“Any luck?” She asked, kissing the baby’s forehead.

“Nah, I kept repeating it but he wasna willing tae give it a go.”

“You know, when he does actually start saying ‘dada’, he won’t be referencing you, it’s just a sound.”

“Nah, ye’re wrong there, Sassenach. He kens his da and he’ll soon be calling fer me by name.”

Claire rolled her eyes and tutted. “Alright. Have it your way.”

Jamie deposited the car seat on the floor of the living room as Claire knelt and began undoing the straps securing William. Jamie settled himself on the sofa and watched for a moment, her face lighting up as William smiled contentedly at her, his fingers pulling at her lips. Laughing, she caught them in her mouth, pretending to eat them to the baby’s delight. Jamie’s stomach lurched, if anything should happen to change this arrangement...

“That bloody woman…” he blurted out.

“Geneva?”

“Nah, her bloody mother. She likes tae try and twist the knife whenever she can. She informed me today that she was minding William as Geneva had gone tae Manchester for an ‘exciting opportunity for her future’. What if it’s a job? What if Geneva’s planning tae move tae Manchester?”

Jamie stood up and began pacing.

“What if she’s trying tae take ma son away?” His voice grew louder and more agitated.  “I canna have that. He canna be 4 hours away from me.”

William’s eyes opened wide in shock at the unfamiliar cadence in his father’s voice and he suddenly let out a heartrending wail. Claire picked him up and rocked him, gently rubbing his back until his sobs subsided.

“Hush, hush,” she whispered in his ear. “It’s ok. Your Da didn’t mean to scare you.”

She glared at Jamie. “Jamie, voice, please.”

Jamie crouched next to Claire and stroked William’s head. “Sorry, lad. I dinna mean tae scare ye, it’s jes’... Claire, I couldna bear it.”

Holding William in one arm, Claire reached over to Jamie, pulling him onto the carpet next to her. She leant against his chest.

“James Fraser, that isn’t going to happen… for many reasons.”

Claire shifted William, his warm, chubby body nestled between herself and Jamie. She batted the baby’s hand gently away from her mouth as she tried to carry on talking.

“First of all, this is Louisa, who will say anything to try and get a reaction from you. For all you know, Geneva could have gone to Manchester to meet a friend. Second of all, Geneva will be back at work in a couple of weeks. Perhaps she had to go down to meet with a client. Thirdly, even if it is a new job there’s such a thing as remote working and...”

“And?” Jamie prompted.

“And I think we talk to John, get his advice… talk to Ned.”

“So ye do think she’s planning tae leave?” Jamie pulled his son closer to him.

“Noooo, well, we don’t really know, but it does no harm in being prepared. In the hospital, we have plans for major incidents -- evacuations, that type of thing. We never have to use them, but they’re there just in case. Consider it like that. Why not invite John around tomorrow for coffee and we can talk it through?”

“Aye, happen ye’re right. I’ll give John a call when William’s asleep.” Jamie paused for a moment and watched his son, now tugging on Claire’s hair. “She wouldna be so cruel, would she?”

**************

With William fast asleep in his cot, Jamie poured himself a glass of wine and sat down to make some phone calls.

The first call went directly through to voicemail. “Geneva, it’s Jamie. Call me back please… urgently.”

Claire came to sit beside him. “She may think there’s a problem with William from that message.”

“Let her worry, she’s made me do enough of that over this past year.” Jamie pulled a face then looked across at Claire. “Ok, ok. I’ll send her a text tae say William is fine.”

Jamie put the phone onto speaker for the next call.

“John, Hello. How ye doing, man?”

“Hi, John.”

“Hello, Jamie, Claire. I’m not doing too bad, thanks. Bit achy after our gym session last night, though. You up for another round? I thought you had William this weekend.”

“Aye, we do. Nah, it’s no’ about the gym. Are ye around fer coffee and a chat tomorrow morning? We may have a bit of a problem.”

“I’m free for coffee but let me guess… Geneva?”

“However did ye ken?” Jamie gave a humourless laugh and grimaced. “Aye, we think Geneva went fer a job interview in Manchester. What if she wants tae move away? Tae Manchester? She canna take ma son away, there must be laws, something we can do.”

“Jamie, don’t panic.” John’s voice was calm, reassuring. “There are things you can do. Hopefully it won’t come to that, but you’re right to find out the options early.”

“Lessons learnt, John… lessons learnt. Well, thanks for that. See ye tomorrow, about ten, aye?”

“Bye Jamie, Claire. I will be expecting those good croissants, by the way.”

The phone call ended, Jamie breathed a huge sigh.

Claire could still feel the tension in Jamie’s body, the muscles clenched tightly. She ran her fingers over the hard lines of his shoulders and neck, her hands seeking out the knots caused by Louisa’s intimations. Jamie groaned in pleasure as her thumbs massaged a particularly tender spot.

Her hands stopped their movements. “Listen. Why don’t you go and have a long, hot shower? Let the water get rid of all that tension.”

Jamie didn’t really need any time to think about this suggestion. His plans for the evening, originally scuppered by Louisa, now seemed to be falling back into place - he’d had a fun evening with his son, there was a glass of wine in his hand, he was about to take a long, hot shower. There was just one part of the plan missing.

He reached over his shoulder and grabbed Claire’s hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

“There’s jes’ one more thing I need fer the shower…”

“What’s that?”

“A naked lady in there with me… ye ken anyone who can oblige?”

“You go upstairs. I’m sure I know someone who’s willing to help out.”

Jamie turned and kissed Claire’s mouth. A kiss, tender at first but building in passion and intensity. She pulled away.

“Go on, get the shower running. I’ll be up to join you.”

At the doorway, Jamie hesitated.

“Dinna be too long, Sassenach. Ye dinna want me tae start without ye.”

#outlander fan fiction #outlander fanfic #Road To The Aisles #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #chapter 15

[vannahfanfics]

The First Time Babysitting

Category: Family Fluff

Fandom: Naruto

Characters: Gaara, Kankuro, Temari, and Shikadai Nara

Gaara sat cross-legged on the floor of his sister's home, smiling slightly as he watched his eight-month-old nephew sprawled out on his belly fervently coloring in a coloring book. The boy still hadn’t grasped the concept of staying in the lines yet, but any time he grabbed the book and held it up for his young uncle to see, Gaara made a point to act as if it were the greatest work of art he had ever clapped eyes on. Shikadai would giggle excitedly and then resume working with gusto. I can’t believe he’s almost a year old already, the Kazekage thought with a small sigh. Next thing you know, I’ll be old…

“Hey, squirt, throw some blue in there,” Kankuro called to the child with a small smirk. His elder brother, and his advisor, was stretched out on the couch with one leg up and his hands behind his head, watching the little boy in amusement. Shikadai blinked up at him, glanced down at his pile of crayons, and stared thoughtfully at them before grabbing the blue one and holding it up to his other uncle. “Yeah. That one!” Kankuro affirmed, and Shikadai grinned before scribbling madly all over the depiction of a puppy he was currently filling in.

“Ugh, I can’t believe this!” came an irritated cry from the kitchen. Gaara and Kankuro both turned as their sister Temari walked into the room wearing an annoyed expression. “Guys, I’m sorry, but I just realized that there were a few things that I left off the shopping list for dinner tonight. You don’t mind hanging out here while I go get them, do you?”

“Nope. Means I can catch a nap,” Kankuro mused and promptly rolled onto his side to face the back of the couch. Gaara narrowed his eyes slightly as Temari walked across the room and leaned down to pick up Shikadai.

“Come on, you’re going to go shopping with Mommy,” she sighed as she lifted the boy into her arms and squatted down to begin cleaning up his coloring workspace.

“Temari, you don’t have to take him. Kankuro and I can watch him,” Gaara offered. Part of him was just being polite, but another part of him really hoped that she agreed; even though Shikadai was already eight months old, he had never actually babysat his nephew for any extensive amount of time. At his brother's offer, Kankuro made a choking sound and abruptly say up with wide eyes. Temari narrowed hers.

“Are you sure?” She asked, her expression betraying hesitation. “I’ll be gone for an hour or two, and Shikadai is a handful sometimes…”

“If I can handle leading the Allied Shinobi Forces to war, I can handle babysitting a toddler,” he frowned up at her. Kankuro whined loudly and flopped back into the couch cushions, but made no move to openly object. Temari glanced down at her precious baby, weighing the options, then nodded and stopped down to set Shikadai back down onto the rug.

“All right. Let me get my things together, and I’ll explain what you need to do,” she agreed and walked out of the room. Gaara smiled at his young nephew and reached out to gently poke him in the forehead.

“Looks like you and I are going to be getting to know each other better.” He grimaced and hurriedly withdrew his hand as Shikadai clamped his mouth on his index finger; slightly disgusted, Gaara wiped off the baby's saliva on his hand while Kankuro snorted with laughter.

About fifteen minutes later, Shikadai was sitting in a high chair banging a plastic spoon around while the two brothers stood with their sister in the doorway.

“Okay. Make sure he eats all of this. He’s picky, so it may take a while,” Temari instructed as she held a jar of baby food out to them. Gaara took it with a nod. “Are you sure you guys don’t need me to explain how to change a diaper again?” She asked with raised eyebrows.

“Come on, Temari, it’s not that hard. We can do it,” Kankuro frowned as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked doubtfully at the toddler. Temari sniffed, but did not refute him.

“He shouldn’t want to take a nap until after I get back, but on the off chance he does get tired, he usually likes a lullaby before you lay him down into the crib,” she added with a fretful look at Shikadai. He heard Kankuro mutter, “I am not singing to that brat.” “Make sure not to feed him too fast, he may get a stomachache. If he does, I have medicine-"

“Temari,” Gaara interjected with a small smile. “We'll take care of him. Promise. Leave it to us.” Temari blinked at him, then sighed deeply and nodded slowly. Then, with a small wave to her child, she bowed her head to her brothers and exited the house. Gaara closed the door after her, and turned to look at his nephew, who had begun screaming and bouncing in his high chair.

“What have you gotten us into?” Kankuro groaned, then hastily ducked as Shikadai flung the spoon at the front door. The boy laughed hysterically as the utensil landed into Kankuro's brown hair. Gaara smiled and clapped his brother on the back before gripping the jar of baby food and proceeding into the kitchen. Kankuro cursed before following after him with the spoon.

“Okay, Shikadai, it’s time to eat,” Gaara said as he opened the tiny jar and retrieved the spoon from his brother. He scooped up a small spoonful of the party substance and held it to Shikadai's mouth. The boy blinked, then abruptly cried out and flung the spoon away. Gaara jumped as pureed peas and carrots splattered across his face and into his hair. Kankuro blinked, then fell to the floor in a hysterical fit of laughter, while Gaara sighed deeply and cleaned off his face with a napkin. “Shikadai. You have to eat this. Your mother said so,” he frowned and tried again. This time, Shikadai flung the spoon into Kankuro's face, which made him feel slightly better about the whole situation.

“Oh, come on, you little brat,” Kankuro frowned as he wiped his face off with a black sleeve. Snatching the jar and spoon from Gaara, he scooped up the baby food and held it out, but far enough out of Shikadai's reach that it would not be flung a third time. The baby stuck out his tongue before turning his nose up at it.

“I think we have to convince him it’s good,” Gaara frowned.

“What? Ugh, fine,” Kankuro grumbled before chomping down on the spoon. Gaara raised an eyebrow as a visible shudder ran from his brother's toes to the tip of his hair, but to his credit, he swallowed and forced a smile. “See, it’s good. Now eat it,” he huffed and tried again. Shikadai stared at it thoughtfully before inching forward and opening his mouth obediently. Laughing lightly, Kankuro put the spoon in his waiting mouth, and Shikadai ate it and smacked his lips together, a little bit of the baby food leaking out of his mouth.

“Well, that’s a start,” Gaara sighed as Shikadai looked expectantly up at Kankuro and opened his mouth again.

“Yeah. It’s kinda cute,” Kankuro smiled lightly and spooned more of the mixture into the baby's mouth. After that, it was quite easy to get Shikadai to finish off the jar, and after cleaning up the toddler’s face they brought him back into the living room and set him down on the rug. “Now what?” Kankuro blinked as they both stared down at the baby, who was sitting on his behind staring right back at them. They both cried out in alarm as he abruptly began to wail.

“Ah! What’s wrong with him?” Gaara cried.

“Don’t ask me!” Kankuro yelled back. Shikadai raised his hands to his eyes as he cried harder, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks.

“Waaaaaah! Maaaamaaaaa!” he sobbed.

“Eh? He wants Temari!” Kankuro realized, then, with a strained smile, he reached out and awkwardly patted Shikadai's head. “Your mom went to the store. She’ll be back soon, Shikadai. Don’t you want to have fun with your uncles?” Shikadai screamed so loud that Gaara’s rang and slapped Kankuro's hand, making his brother scowl and snap his arm back, cradling it against his chest. “What do we do?” he hissed to Gaara.

“Uh… Uh… What do babies like? Oh!” he gasped and covered his face with both hands. “Peek-a-boo!” he cried and revealed his face, leaning forward. Shikadai stopped wailing and stared at him miserably, sniffling with snot running down his face. It’s working. Gaara covered his face again. “Where's Shikadai?” he asked, then uncovered his face and shot forward again. “There he is!” Shikadai jumped, then giggled and waved his arms in excitement. The toddler then turned to Kankuro, who just stared. Gaara nudged him roughly in the ribs with his elbow.

“What? Oh, man. Fine,” he sighed and covered his face. “Wherrrrrre's Shikadai?” he asked, then repeated his brother's actions. “There he is!” Delighted now, Shikadai laughed uncontrollably. Grinning, the two brothers took turns playing peek-a-boo with the little boy until they were both panting from the effort and Shikadai had fallen onto his back and was kicking his stubby feet into the air. Abruptly, they both wrinkled their noses as a foul smell wafted up from the baby's diaper.

“Oh no,” Gaara frowned as he straightened up.

“I guess we have to change it,” Kankuro nodded. They retrieved the diaper bag Temari had left for them and settled Shikadai on his back on the floor, then frowned as they gazed hesitantly down at the task at hand. “Uh. You do it!” his brother cried and thrust the clean diaper at him.

“You’re the older one. You do it,” Gaara shook his head and thrust it back. Despite what he had said to Temari, this seemed to be a much bigger problem than he had anticipated.

“What happened to ‘I led the Allied Shinobi Forces; I can do anything’?” Kankuro shot back in a mocking voice and slammed him in the chest with the diaper. Gaara felt the wind get knocked out of him, and now that his pride was bruised, he glared at Kankuro and snatched the absorbent underpants haughtily and situated himself in front of the cooing baby. He felt a bead of sweat run down the side of his face as he tried to recall Temari brief instructions. Okay… First I undo these straps here, he recalled and reached down, pulling off the velcro-like straps that secured the diaper. As it dropped open, both he and Kankuro covered their noses and almost retched.

“What died?!” Kankuro wailed with watery eyes. Gaara steeled his nerves and glanced back down at the soiled diaper, having found a new respect for mothers and his sister, and held his breath as he returned to the task. Quickly, he grabbed Shikadai gently by the ankles and lifted him up to wipe his little behind and replace the soiled diaper. Kankuro quickly wrapped it up and jumped up to dispose of the vile thing into the outside trashcan, while Gaara wrestled with placing the new diaper on his nephew.

“No, stay still,” he huffed as Shikadai started to roll onto his belly. Struggling with the straps, he looked up unconfidently at his brother when he returned, who grabbed Shikadai under the arms to hold him up. They both watched miserably as the diaper fell to the floor with a soft plop.

“Well, that’s not right,” Kankuro sighed. Shikadai blinked at them, and then the brothers cried out in disgust as the little boy suddenly decided that it was a good time to empty his bladder. Looking forlornly down at his wet front, Kankuro laid the boy back down and tried to hold onto the last shred of his patience. “You are as annoying as your father,” he grumbled as he snatched up another diaper and fumbled to put it onto the wriggling child. After a few more tries and another unexpected bath, they managed to produce an acceptable product.

“I never want kids,” Kankuro huffed as he watched Shikadai stack blocks on the living room floor. Gaara pulled at the collar of his uncomfortably wet shirt and nodded in agreement. By the time their clothes had dried, they were wondering where Temari was. Suddenly, Shikadai yawned loudly and looked at them, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Tired,” he mumbled and promptly flopped over onto his side. Gaara sighed and rose to his feet to walk over to the baby and lift him into his arms.

“All right. Let’s get you to bed,” he huffed and stepped gingerly over the scattered blocks to walk to the baby's bedroom. He flipped on the lights and walked over to the crib, laying him gently down onto his back and putting a stuffed animal beside him. Shikadai screamed in protest and launched it at the red-haired man's face. “What? What did I do wrong?” Gaara shouted and picked the boy back up, holding up the crying baby.

“Didn’t Temari say something about a lullaby?” Kankuro called from the doorstep. Gaara glanced back as his older brother walked into the room and took the young boy out of his hands and propped him up on his chest. Frowning awkwardly, he began to bounce slowly back and forth while humming a soft tune under his breath. Shikadai cried for another minute or so, then began to settle down as Kankuro paced the room and hummed louder. Soon enough, the boy was snoring softly with his head propped on Kankuro’s shoulder.

“Whoa. You’re not half bad at this,” Gaara remarked as his elder brother laid the sleeping child down in the crib, then straightened up and stretched his arms over his head to crack his back.

“Jeez, who knew babies were so heavy?” he groaned, then yawned loudly and cracked an eye open to gaze thoughtfully down at their nephew. “… You know, I don’t think having a kid would be half-bad either.” Gaara looked down at Shikadai, with one arm around a stuffed animal and the other held up by his face as his slept soundly.

“Yeah,” he smiled softly.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

Temari cursed under her breath as she propped the bag of groceries against the front door and fumbled for the keys.

“I can’t believe I got carried away talking to Sakura… Those boys must be ready to pull their hair out!” she sighed as she retrieved what she was searching for and unlocked the door. The house was strangely quiet as she entered, and she raised her eyebrows as she walked to the kitchen and set the bag down. She walked into the living room, where the only evidence of her son was the blocks scattered across the floor. She stopped down to collect them in her arms and dump them into the nearby toy chest and then stood, putting her hands on her hips. Where are they?

On a hunch, she walked down the hall and found the door to her son's room closed. She gently turned the doorknob and poked her head inside, and then smiled softly.

Her son was snoring softly in his crib. On the floor, her two brothers were sprawled on their backs, dead to the world. Little fools tried their hardest, didn’t they? She thought as she tip-toed into the room and walked over to the crib. She watched her son sleep for a moment, then leaned down into the crib to press a kiss to his forehead. She straightened up and looked down, then smiled and squatted down beside each of her brothers, kissing them on their cheeks.

“Sleep well, my boys,” she murmured before rising to her feet and exiting the room, quietly shutting the door behind her and walking back to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#naruto #boruto #boruto: naruto next generations #temari of the sand #temari nara #nara temari #gaara of the sand #kankuro of the sand #sand siblings #shikadai nara #nara shikadai #baby shikadai #babysitting #family #fluff #cutesy #comedy #oneshot #oneshot collection #oneshots #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #anime #manga

[21stcenturyhope]

JHS // “Emotional Investments”

summary: you have a tendency to become emotionally invested in things and only your boyfriend really knows what to do when that happens

pairing: jung hoseok x reader

special guest stars: maknae line

genre: humour, fluff

warnings: slight goblin spoilers if you squint

length: approx 1k

Hoseok was having quite a productive day.

He had set aside the day to begin writing the next cypher with Namjoon and Yoongi. The three rappers locked themselves up in the Genius Lab and it was several hours later when they were finally happy with the base work laid out for the new track.

Turning his phone back on, Hoseok was surprised to see his phone lit up with so many notifications.

Taehyungie [8 missed calls]

Jiminie [6 missed calls]

Jungkookie [12 missed calls]

Worried about what the three youngest members had gotten themselves into, Hoseok decided to call Jungkook back first. The phone hadn’t even rung once when the maknae picked up the phone.

“Hyung! You need to come home right now!” Jungkook’s voice was panicked.

“What’s going on, JK?”

“I have no idea! We came over to play the new Mario Party game with Y/N noona but when we let ourselves in, she just started crying and now she won’t stop!” If possible, his voice was getting even more panicked.

You and Hoseok shared an apartment which was conveniently across the hall from the Bangtan dorms and only a short distance away from the Big Hit studios. It wasn’t uncommon for the other members to come over unannounced and they treated your apartment as an extension of their dorms. Each of the members even had their own spare key to get in.

“Jungkook, can you put Y/N on the phone please?” Hoseok heard some shuffling in the background noise and Jungkook’s frantic attempts to coax you into taking the phone.

“Hobi?” you finally answered the phone after a few sniffles.

“Y/N, why are you so upset?”

Apparently, that was the wrong question to ask because it just set you off again. You started to sob loudly into the phone.

“Happy… I thought… died!” Those were the only words Hoseok was actually able to understand but it was enough and he had an inkling about what made you so upset.

“Jagiya,” he cooed into the phone. “I’ll be home soon, okay? Can you please pass the phone back to Jungkookie?”

The sound of your loud wailing got quieter as the youngest took back his phone.

“Are you coming back home yet, hyung?”

“I’ll be home soon, JK,” Hoseok was no longer worried now that he knew what was wrong. “In the meantime, just give her a stuffed animal or something to cuddle with until then. It usually helps calm her down enough to breathe properly again.”

~

Minutes later, Hoseok arrived at the front door of your home but it was flung open before he could even get the key into the lock.

“What took you so long, hyung?” Taehyung looked very frazzled with his hair sticking up in all sorts of different directions. Hoseok could tell it was from running his fingers through it out of frustration.

Jungkook came running to the front door at that moment.

“Hyung, you told me that a stuffed animal would work! But when I gave one to noona, she just started crying about buckwheat! Buckwheat!”

“Even my funny faces couldn’t get her to laugh and she just kept crying,” Taehyung chimed in.

“To be fair, hyung, I would cry too if I saw your face.”

Taehyung moved to hit Jungkook but the youngest was too quick and dodged the blow.

“Don’t fight,” Hoseok laughed. “Where’s Y/N?”

“In the living room with Jiminie,” Taehyung pointed behind him.

Jimin was trying his best to comfort you when Hoseok entered the living room. Evaluating the scene before him, his mouth turned up into a huge smile. His hunch about why you were upset was right.

“Please don’t cry, Y/N noona,” Jimin said softly, his arm around your shoulder. A look of relief crossed his face when he saw that Hoseok had finally returned home.

“Hobi hyung, thank god!” Jimin jumped up from his seat to join Taehyung and Jungkook who were hovering by the doorway.

Kneeling in front of you on the couch, Hoseok reached out to cradle your face with both of his hands and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

“Jagiya, I thought you said you weren’t going to be so emotionally invested in your K-dramas anymore,” his voice was teasing but he was smiling fondly at you.

“I can’t help it, Hobi,” you wailed as you pointed at the television. “He died! They were in love and he died. I just wanted them to have a happy ending.”

“The show isn’t quite over, Y/N,” Hoseok grinned.

“I know,” you pouted. You were no longer sobbing but you were still teary eyed. “I just like happy endings… they make me feel like we can have a happy ending too.”

“Oh, jagiya…” Hoseok finally pulled you into his arms and you laid your head in the crook of his neck. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re already living our happy ending.”

The gagging noises from behind you really ruined the moment. Your boyfriend clearly agreed as he shot a dirty look at his fellow band members over your shoulder.

“Noona! I can’t believe this was over a drama! I even resorted to Jin’s dad jokes!” Taehyung was pouting, clearly upset you had worried him so much over nothing.

“A drama… she was crying over a drama…” Jimin was at a loss for words as he muttered to himself, covering his face with both hands.

“You didn’t strike me as the sappy kind, Hobi hyung. We’re already living our happy ending,” Jungkook snickered as he imitated his hyung.

Well, Hoseok wasn’t going to just let his younger member tease him so mercilessly.

“You know, jagiya… Jungkookie told me over the phone that you were an ugly crier.”

The crying instantly stopped and you whipped your head around to glare at the youngest. Jungkook wasn’t laughing anymore and he looked like a dear caught in headlights.

“What?! No! Noona, wait… don’t believe, him!” Jungkook sputtered as he tried to defend himself against Hoseok’s lies.

“Jeon Jungkook, you said what?”

bonus scene

#bts #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #beyond the scene #junghoseok #jung hoseok #bts jhope #jhope #j-hope #kimnamjoon #kimtaehyung #kimseokjin #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #bts v #bts jin #bts rm #park jimin #parkjimin #bts jimin #jimin #jeonjungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook

[cobraghost]

birthday time! birthday time!! cosmo's practically skipping to see billy come in, with a paper pulled close to his chest to make sure the other doesn't get any early peeks. but when the gap between the two is closed, the paper's offered to billy, and it's revealed to be... a drawing! it depicts the both of them on stage rocking out with guitars, with a birthday hat drawn on billy's head in what looks like a last minute addition. cosmo put his all into the picture, and he hopes you like it, billy!! 🥺

Billy hadn't particularly been expecting ANYTHING from the Johansen's -- let alone their kids. And yet, today, on his special day ... here they are! He had made a pretty big deal about it being his birthday and all -- but for once, he wasn't throwing one of his banger parties to try and feel less lonely. No, today, he was going to spend time with the Johansen's, Jesper was gonna make him a special cake -- it was something he's always wanted to do, but never got to do.

What he didn't expect, though, is to get any personal gifts. Of course, he expected gifts; no doubt his mansion was flooded with them, gifts lining his gates and all -- none of it was ever personal, though. Just a lot of weird shit that he usually gave away. But Cosmo's gift is the first personal one he could say he's recieved in... well, in years.

When the kid first presents it, Billy takes it with a bit of a grain of salt. Not that he intends to be rude to him -- it's just, what could he have gotten that Billy Joe would enjoy? ... Okay, that sounds shallow, yeah, but that just goes to show how low his expectations are. So, when Cosmo presents him the gift, he takes it from the kids hands, eyes slowly scanning over it ... but it’s not long before the tears bubble up on his lashes, a soft gasp escaping his lips. 

“ ... Oh, Cosmo,” he sniffles, eyes glancing all over the picture. He looks at a loss for words, but not in a negative way -- just ... stunned from what he's seeing. It's rare he drops the nickname for his favorite adopted nephew -- so you just know it's touched him. Black irises are obscured by globby tears, though they are practically sparkling.Tears streak down his cheeks anyways -- he really is touched by this thoughtful gift. He clutches it oh so gently within his right hand, other hand pulling his sleeve over his palms and trying to gently wipe away his ( already falling ) tears. Too bad for him, though -- he's full on sobbing loudly within moments, still clutching the drawing close to his heart. His next words are spoken as an emotional wail, head thrown back and one arm dramatically covering his eyes and tears -- and by extension, his runny makeup.

“Thaaaank youuu-huhu!!” He says, followed by a very exaggerated “WAHHHH”.. “I'll treasure it forever... !”

#WUAHGHGHGH #HED DOES #He is actually sobbing

[aardvark-123]

Tsukumogami Tshowdown

I wrote this story for days four and five of the Gensokyo Festival, combining two prompts into one: “humans” and “youkai”. The first half needed extensive rewriting, but all I really did to the second arc was give Kosuzu’s mother a name.

"Ladies, my plan is beautiful and elegant in its simplicity." With a solemn frown on her face, Rumia jabbed randomly at a few scrawled chalk images on her battered old blackboard. "Firstestmostly, Kagerou jumps out of the reeds while one of the campers is having a bath. Secondestmostly, Sekibanki gets all her extra heads out and herds them back to the camp, where Wakisaki will decsend upon all the humans while wearing her kraken costume!"

Sekibanki, Wakasagihime and Kagerou shared a worried look.

"Thirdestmostly," continued Rumia, "once the humans' socks have all fallen off-"

"Eh?!" cried Sekibanki. "Uh, how...?"

"Because Wakisaki will have scared them off, silly," said Rumia, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Anyway, with the humans de-socked, we chase them back to their village and force them to hide under their beds all night!"

"Excuse me, I can't hide in the reeds! I'll get dirty!" protested Kagerou.

"And my name's Wakasagihime," Wakasagihime pointed out.

"Is that so?" Rumia's brow furrowed. "Wacky... Saggy... Theresa May? No, that doesn't sound... Look, Kagerou, it won't be that bad! Reeds are usually clean."

"I'm talking about all the horrible, soggy mud under them!" Kagerou shuddered.

"So? Wear waders! Or just go naked." Rumia rolled her eyes.

Kagerou gasped. "N-n-NAKED?! They'll see me! All of me!"

"Well, with waders, maybe," began Sekibanki.

"They'll chafe!" wailed Kagerou.

"Not if you wear some nice cotton tights under them!" insisted Sekibanki.

"Or maybe I could hide in the reeds instead!" offered Wakasagihime.

"Would you?!" cried Kagerou, so relieved she could have died happily in that very moment.

"Or we could just naff off and read manga in Rinnosuke's shop." Sekibanki smiled naughtily.

"C-c-could we?!" gasped Kagerou, on the verge of fainting.

"Come on, will you?! I came up with a perfectly good... decent enough plan!" Rumia bristled, her lips pressed together in a fierce pout. "We can do this! You're the Grassroots Youkai Network, blood sisters who have sworn an oath to do all sorts of cool stuff together! And I am Rumia of the Night, she who brings the dusk and eats people! Sometimes with mustard!"

"I know, but... It's such a lovely day! I don't want to get covered in mud or beat people up! All I want to do is take a walk in the forest, curl up with a good book and maybe go out for a meal..." said Kagerou pleadingly. "We don't have to scare people every day, do we?

"That is NOT so! If humans stop being scared of us, we'll die, and that would ruin my day!" snapped Rumia, levelling an accusatory finger at Kagerou. "I can't believe you, Kagerou. You're a werewolf! I thought that stood for something!" "Rumia, ease up on her, will you?!" Wakasagihime had been compared to the British prime minister more times than she could take. "The Grassroots Youkai Network isn't all about scaring people! We do some of that, sure, but sometimes we just like to chill out."

"Yep. I'm not even a member, they just let me hang out with them 'cause I bring peppermints," Sekibanki pointed out.

"I don't believe this!" Grief and anger collided in Rumia's heart. Tears welled up in the corners of her earnest eyes. "D-don't you have any pride?! You're youkai! The terrors of-of the night! You can't j-just... You can't!"

Rumia ran out over the dewy meadow, howling with misery.

After a few minutes, Sekibanki broke the silence. "Do you think the plan might've worked?"

"Maybe," said Kagerou. "Could've just hovered above the mud..."

Rumia trudged through the Forest of Magic, kicking at every stone or discarded piece of cardboard she found. She was soon left without a single toe unstubbed, but she was beyond caring.

What was the point in being a youkai if you didn't devote yourself to terrorising humans? All of Rumia's instincts told her there was none. By their very definition, youkai were the rivals of humans. To be anything else was to be a not-youkai.

Maybe the Grassroots Youkai Network weren't real youkai after all. Maybe, deprived of fear and conflict, they had turned into weak spirits of nature who couldn't hurt a fly. Maybe they all secretly wanted to be patted on the head(s) and informed, by humans, that they were good girls! The very thought of it chilled Rumia to the bone.

But then, what had become of the humans? They'd been getting bolder lately, and she apparently wasn't allowed to eat them any more. Rumia had only vague memories of her past, but she knew the golden age was coming to an end. What had become of Gensokyo? What had become of the ferocious monsters who once roamed freely from the Road of Liminality to the steps of the Hakurei Shrine? What had-

THUNK!

"Owwww..." Rumia staggered back from the tree she'd walked into. It wasn't a rare occurence for her, given that she cloaked herself in darkness all the time, but it still hurt.

"Um, hello? Are you all right?"

Rumia started. A young woman with short green hair and a cyclopean umbrella was walking towards her.

"Um, yes, thank you! I'm fine!" said Rumia, amazed. "What are you doing here, though?"

"Just taking a walk, plotting my next Incident..." said Kogasa casually, somehow managing to talk and lick her lips at the same time because it looked cute. "I was thinking I might make some tsukumogami dance along the walls. No-one gets hurt, but everyone gets nightmares!"

Rumia's eyes were sparkling. "Nightmares...? R-really?! You'd go to all that effort?!"

"Of course! I haven't scared anyone for days now. Got to pick up the pace," smiled Kogasa. "Do you want to come along? I could use someone with the power to control darkness..."

Rumia threw her arms around Kogasa's lower torso. "I love you, Kogasa! Please marry me!" she sobbed, nuzzling the karakasa's tummy. "Oh, this is going to be the best Incident in history!"

Kogasa stared for a few tense moments, then burst out laughing. "That it will, you funky little youkai, that it will!"

"Guys, guys, guys, watch this! Floating sake inside a floating glass!" Marisa clambered up onto the rustic pine table, stepping in Kosuzu's cheesecake and kicking over a couple of empty cups. She focused intently on the pint glass in her hand.

An awed hush fell over the table as the glass rose from Marisa's hand. The clear, faintly green drink rearranged itself into a thin cylinder and rose from the base of the glass.

"That'sh... That'sh amazhing!" slurred Reimu, wobbling on her stool. "C'n you... Ish it drinkable?"

"Sure. Open wide!" Marisa floated the cylinder of sake down to Reimu, who swallowed it and licked her lips.

Suzume Motoori rolled her eyes and took a steadying sip of tea. "You know, if I was a witch, I'd be doing a lot more than just drinking all day."

"Won't you give them a chance, Mummy? These are Gensokyo's greatest heroes!" said Kosuzu fervently. "They do a lot more than just drink."

"Well, yeah," nodded Marisa. "I train for, like, two hours a day, make magical gear, hunt for treasure, fix things for people, fight youkai, cook, go swimming..."

"An' I shometimesh take napsh," Reimu added, hiccupping loudly. "An' shweep the floor!"

"Fair enough," sighed Suzume. "By the way, Little Bell, your father might be coming home this weekend."

Kosuzu's face lit up. "Really? Did he get any new books?! Or sell any?!"

Suzume sighed. "If I know him, he'll have run out of books and money. I know he wants to spread the joy of reading around, but..."

"I know..." The cheesecake Marisa had stepped in represented a whole month's pocket money for Kosuzu. Her parents would probably have given her an actual wage if she'd asked for it, since she practically ran the shop, but she didn't have the heart to cut into the roof repair fund.

"And for my next trick," said Marisa loudly, "I'm going to do the impossible!"

"You mean buy my daughter another slice of cheesecake?" Suzume gave Marisa a very motherly look.

"Maybe." Marisa shrugged. "No, what I'm gonna do is make this table dance!"

Reimu, Kosuzu and Suzume grabbed their drinks and took a few steps back.

"Good thinking!" Marisa grinned. "All right. By the power of-"

"Hey, ishn't that... ishn't that hat-shtand danshing?" Reimu pointed a wobbling finger towards the doorway. A curvy wooden hat-stand was dancing a stiff jig, its three legs clattering on the floor and its crowd of hats fluttering like a ballerina's shoulder-pads.

Marisa yelped. "M-my hat! Oi, stop! Give me back my hat!"

As if it had heard her, the hat stand leaned back rammed its "head" through the door. It ran out into the street, trailing hats and splintered wood.

"Damn it... Come on, Reimu, follow that tsukumogami!" shouted Marisa, charging out of the door with hakkero in hand.

"You heard her! Let's go!" Kosozu grabbed her mother's hand and shot out of the pub.

"Ughhh... Night, everyone." Reimu curled up under the table and fell asleep.

On all the rooftops in the village, hundreds of tsukumogami were dancing up a storm. Pots and pans clashed together, brooms duelled with hoes and pitchforks, dolls danced with metal figurines and rode on toy trains, and at least one entire house was bouncing hard enough to shake the earth.

The noise was deafening, the crowds too curious to run away and too scared to ask any questions. Marisa elbowed her way through the throng until she came to the laughing karakasa and the generic darkness youkai at the centre of it all.

"Kogasa Tatara! I should've known it was you." Marisa whipped out a spell-card. "How dare you threaten the peace of our beautiful village?! You will pay for this!"

"Well, well, if it isn't the Ordinary Witch!" Kogasa laughed cruelly. "Do you really think you can stop me, Marisa?! All the powers of the night are with me!"

Marisa's eyes narrowed. "We may live in fear of you, but our hearts are pure and our spell-cards are strong! The Human Village will never give in! Kosozu, you deal with Rumia. I'll take the umbrella girl."

Kosozu gasped. "R-really? This... This is...!"

"Kosuzu, you don't have to. We've talked about peer pressure." Suzume took her daughter by the hand. "Come on, we'll get the guards-"

"This is SO COOL! My first spell-card duel, and the whole village is here! Kogasa and Rumia are scaring everyone, we're going to kick their arses, thereby fulfiling the need youkai have for conflict...! This is what Gensokyo was built for!"

"Um," said Suzume, "what?"

"Yeah, what are you... What are you babbling about? There are some things you don't exactly just say..." said Marisa shiftily.

"Uh..." said Kosuzu. She gave a quiet, nervous laugh. "Charge?"

Marisa nodded. "CHARGE!"

"Just get home safely," sighed Suzume.

#Touhou #my writing #writing #Kosuzu Motoori #Marisa Kirisame #Reimu Hakurei #Kogasa Tatara #Rumia (Touhou) #Sekibanki #Wakasagihime #Kagerou Imaizumi #Touhou fanfic