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aestheticaltcow · 1 month

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Six Months

An attempt at some parenthood angst?

Similarly to the title, this fic has been in my WIP folder for a minute; it went through a handful of edits. I'd like to think this is good enough for y'all.

Carmy sat in the office staring at the paperwork Sugar needed his signature on; when he saw the date on his phone, it hit him—today marked six months. Six months of parenthood and six months of celibacy, to say Carmy was sexually frustrated, was an understatement. “Hey Carm, did you- are you okay?” Sugar asked when she caught him staring blankly at his phone. He didn’t respond until she put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch snapped him out of his trance. He looked at her before quickly apologizing, “Sorry, what were you sayin'?” Sugar grinned as she patted his shoulder, “You okay, Bear?”

Carmy nodded and straightened up in his desk chair, “Yea- just thinkin’ bout the baby.”

Carmy got home from work late. He quietly slipped his jacket off, and hung it on the coat rack before removing his shoes. Walking down the hallway, he slipped into the nursery, knowing the baby would be asleep. He found it impossible not to be happy in her room. The walls were decorated with vintage floral wallpaper you’d bought off Etsy, it may have been a pain in the ass to put up, but Carmy happily obliged when he saw how happy it had made you. He crept to his baby girl’s crib and felt the day's stress disappear. She was peacefully sleeping in a light pink sleep sack, furiously sucking away on her pacifier. “Sweet dreams, princess,” he whispered. “I love you.”

The joy of watching his daughter sleep faded away as he approached the askew door to the master bedroom the two of you shared. “I’m home, baby.” Carmy grinned as he walked toward the open closet door, “Hi, Carm.” you called from the bathroom. When he entered the bathroom, you were brushing your teeth. As the mix of salvia and toothpaste residue dripped from your mouth Carmy’s breath hitched- was this enough to get him goin’? He shook his head as he pulled his shirt off and threw it in the laundry hamper before turning on the shower.

“How was work, babe?” you asked before bringing a small cup of mouthwash to your lips. Carmy watched as you swished it around your mouth and spit it into the sink. “Carmy?” you asked again; he swallowed. “Yeah, uh, it was good. Busy,” he answered as you hopped up on the counter. You were desperate for adult interaction after being home with the baby all day.

“Mia, have a good day?” Carmy questioned. You nodded, “We did some laundry, then had mashed pears for lunch- she did. I had that leftover pasta sauce you made... Read a couple books and went on a walk... Then did her bedtime routine, and I worked on that stupid documentary I was telling you about.”

As you recounted your day, Carmy nodded, but he was staring at your chest, barely hearing what you said. You’d been wearing one of his old T-shirts. He noticed how prominent your nipples were under the soft, worn-in material. He was captivated by the fullness of your breasts, and he’d do just about anything to touch them again. “Carm, you okay?” you asked, hopping down from the counter; he nodded. “Wanna get in with me?” he asked cocking his head in the direction of the running shower. You giggled, “Maybe next time, bear.”

“Oh fuck-” Carmy grunted as he worked his hand up and down his length. He felt like a teenager again, masturbating in the shower before going to school. However, now, instead of imagining the unrealistic scenarios he’d see in pornos, he had memories of you. Carmy thought back to the last time you’d really touched him. Heavily pregnant, hormonal, begging for his tongue and his cock… he’d expected a shift in your sex life as the two of you adjusted to parenthood, but this long of a dry spell was the last thing he’d expected. Carmy squeezed his eyes closed as he came down the drain.

“Good morning, princess.” Carmy cooed as Mia squirmed in her crib, trying to get out of her sleep sack. She spat her pacifier out and let out a gruggle. “So it’s one of those mornings?” he chuckled as he unzipped her. He watched her stretch before carefully picking her up, “See, you’re okay.” he rocked her gently before exiting the nursery and heading downstairs.

You were making coffee and prepping a bottle for Mia as he entered the kitchen. “You’re off today, right?” Carmy nodded in response before handing you Mia. “You goin’ to work?” he questioned, as he got two mugs from the cabinet. You groaned in response, “Jenny called off, so I have to go in. I’ll be back before bedtime.”

“Well, looks like Mia and I are havin' some Daddy-Daughter time,” you smiled as Carmy gently kissed her head before going to get the milk from the fridge. When you’d met Carmy all those years ago at some trendy Chicago bar, you found him incredibly alluring. His disheveled curls, the mix of some musky cologne and cigarette smoke, the way his T-shirt wrapped around his muscular arms… he’d always been… sexy. But watching him interact with Mia was a different kind of attractive.

Carmy drummed his thumbs on the handlebar of the grocery cart. He scanned the shelf before him as Mia happily made her baby noises as she looked around the aisle. “Okay, princess… they don’t have almond extract. What kind of grocery store doesn’t have fuckin’ almond extract.” Mia put her hands out to Carmy, grabbing at the air. Carmy chuckled and ducked to kiss her cheek.

“Oh my gosh, she’s too precious.” a sickly, sweet feminine voice cooed from behind Carmy. He grinned when he turned his attention to her, “How old is she?” she asked. Carmy got a good look at the woman; she was pretty, but she wasn’t you. “Oh, uh, she’s six months,” he answered as the woman stepped closer. She smelled like cheap vanilla and a mix of flowery scents Carmy couldn’t place. Mia glared at the woman, and Carmy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m Selena. I’m in this parenting group. You should stop by.” she smiled as she looked him up and down. The attention made Carmy regret not regularly wearing his wedding ring. “I’m not really the par-” Carmy started to say before Selena cut him off. “I’m not takin’ no as an answer. What’s your number?” she handed him her phone.

Carmy didn’t know why he gave her his number- could he blame it on feeling uncomfortable? Was that even the right thing to do? It’s not like he’d ever do anything with this woman. He’d never throw away his marriage to you by hooking up with some woman he met at the grocery store. The reality of Carmy's actions didn’t hit him until he was in the checkout line. He gave his phone number to another woman- was that cheating on you? Did doing that in front of his daughter make him a bad father? “Okay, your total is $63.82.” the cashier smiled. Carmy nodded and swiped his card. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t run into Selena again.

It had been a couple of weeks since Carmy’s interaction at the grocery store. He’d noticed Selena’s text messages here and there. They seemed innocent until one Friday night, he was working late, you were home with the baby, and Selena had sent Carmy an explicit picture, hoping it would get his attention.

We’re both parents.

I’m not looking for anything serious, Carmy…

My son is at his Dad’s place

Come over <3

Carmy stared at the messages before his eyes went up to the attached photo. Selena had the hem of her T-shirt between her teeth, showing off her toned stomach. He swallowed as he admired the contrast between her skin and the brightly colored fabric of her lacy underwear. He should block her. He should just delete the messages and block her number. He had a wife and baby at home—he couldn’t make this kind of mistake. He locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket before returning to the kitchen cleanup, “Hey Carm, I can finish this up. Go home.” Sweeps grinned as he attempted to connect his phone to the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. Carmy grinned, “You sure, man?” Sweeps nodded assuringly. “I think I can handle this boss man.”

You heard Carmy walk into the bedroom that night, “Hey babe!” you called as you put your blowdryer in its designated spot by the sink. As the bathroom door swung open, Carmy’s lips were on yours. The initial shock wore off as Carmy’s tongue invaded your mouth, and his hands pushed under the hem of your sleep shorts to grasp at your ass cheeks. Carmy pulled you closer to him, forcing you onto your tip toes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers delicately tangling in the roots of his hair. The passionate kiss ended when Carmy started to kiss down your jaw. A giggle escaped your mouth as his lips brushed against your earlobe before he nipped at your neck. “Carm-m what got into you?” you croaked as you adjusted your hips against his.

“I need you, baby,” he muttered, lifting you off the floor. You squealed as he crashed down onto your mattress. He hovered above your body, staring into your eyes. “I need to be inside you, baby.” he swallowed hard as you bit your lip. “Carmyyy,” you giggled as you watched him pull his t-shirt off. You ran a finger down his chest, making him moan softly.

“Let me make you feel good, baby…” Carmy whispered in your ear as one of his hands found its way into your oversized sleep shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt his calloused fingertips graze your ribs. " I-I—" you studdered nervously. “Baby…please.” Carmy quietly asked as his lips brushed against yours. “No.” you whispered as you grabbed his wrist through your shirt, “What?” Carmy questioned as he stood up abruptly, “Did I do something? We haven’t done anything in like six months- clearly I did something wrong. Just tell me so I can fix it!” Carmy raised his voice as his eyebrows knit together in frustration.

You propped yourself on your elbows and watched as he picked up his shirt from the floor, “Carmen, please don’t yell at me.” you said calmly. You watched as he rolled his eyes and paced before you, “Baby. I want to have sex with you. I need to have sex with you-” Carmy groaned as he pushed his hands over his face into his hair. Your eyes narrowed, “Carmen. I had a baby-”

“I KNOW! I fucking know! You had my baby, but now you don’t even want to fuckin’ shower with me! I get it- pregnancy was hard, and then giving birth was hard, and now being a mom is hard.” Carmy started staring at the ceiling while he expressed himself. He took a breath and turned to look at you; regret washed over him when he noticed you were on the verge of tears. “Baby, please don’t cry…” he pleaded as he knelt by the bed. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away before he could grab it, “Sorry, I don’t want to fuck you after taking care of your baby all day.” you spat. Carmy closed his eyes and took another breath trying to compose himself before saying something dumb, “How dare I fail to meet my wifely duties.” you angrily laughed as you stood up.

You crossed your arms over your chest and stared as Carmy got up. “Baby, I didn’t—" you cut Carmy off with a groan. “Shut up, Carmen. You don’t get to speak to me like that.”

Carmy sighed and stepped closer to you, as he reached out for your hips only for you to slap his hands away. “Don’t touch me.” you glared at him, “Fuck this.” Carmy muttered under his breath as he pulled his shirt back on over his head. “What do you mean ‘fuck this’?” you questioned as Carmy exited the bedroom, “I need air.” Carmy called back to you.

You moved to your bedroom window to see Carmy walking toward his car in the driveway. He got in and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket.

Send me your address.

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minihotdog · 3 months

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Whose Wife Is This?

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Summary: John comes home and finds out that he somehow has a wife.

a/n: lmaooo I just had this idea before I went to bed the other night. Kinda wrote this in a hurry so it isn't organized at all and the story is all over the place, yada yada. Bare with me... Bear with me? *shrugs*

word count: 1k

***

John tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes to no avail. There was no way of hiding that the long nights he’d been putting in at the office were weighing on him. But with no reason to go home, why would he? He’d just have to complete the mountain of paperwork the next day anyway. His eyes strained from hours of reading, his wrist ached from writing.

Young John Price would’ve never imagined the amount of paper pushing he’d be doing as an operator. His naive young self lived for the chaos of the field, sometimes even putting off his less-than-exciting duties.

“Sir?” John’s head shoots up. The boys stand at his door huddled around the small entrance. “You staying here all night, Captain?” Gaz asks with concern mixed into his voice. John looks over to the now significantly smaller pile of papers littering his desk.

“I was just finishing up. You boys need something?”

Gaz shakes his head, “No, sir.” A smirk plays on his lips. “Just tell your wife we said ‘hello’.”

“I’ll let her know.” He replies absentmindedly. The boys leave the captain alone once again, he continues looking at the papers, shuffling them around before he stops abruptly.

“My wife? What the bloody hell were they talking about.” He mutters to himself. He takes it as a sign that he should call it a night since he is now imagining things. “I don’t have a wife. Why would he say that?”

***

The drive home is silent. At the end of a long day, he couldn’t stand to listen to anything, his mind was too exhausted to think about anything but a beer and his bed. Not many knew about his personal life. Ghost was the only one who knew he’d been married before, but the marriage occurred when he was younger and undoubtedly more immature.

He made it to selection, began his career, and fell into the same pattern many men in his profession did: Partying, one-night stands, etc. He would be the first to admit that he’d been a piss-poor husband and he was now missing the touch of a woman in his life. His bed was lonely, his house devoid of life, reflecting how often he was actually home. He’d become a hopeless romantic, dreaming of someone he could hold in his arms. He yearned for someone to memorize. Their little habits and quirks, someone he’d share moments with, even have arguments with.

He pulls into his driveway barely remembering the drive home. He groans as he steps out of his car, his back aching from the day of training and being hunched over. He moseys his way to the front door and unlocks it while letting out a deep breath. The hallway is lit by a single dim light, the brown floral wallpaper looks like it came from the 19th century and gives the home a depressing look. He unties his boots and kicks them off leaving them next to the door. He removes his uniform top tossing it on the chair on the opposite wall before his feet pat softly against the hardwood floors leading towards the kitchen, towards a beer he so badly wanted to have.

He briefly glances at a photo framed on the wall and continues onward-

Wait a second?

He takes a couple of steps back and his head snaps towards the photo. His eyes scan it knowing for a fact that it had not been there in the morning… Or any time before that. A woman in a white sun dress sat smiling in a field of flowers. He rubs his eyes, unable to believe what he is seeing, she’s wearing his bucket hat.

He looks further down the hall and sees another picture frame, this one on top of the entryway table next to a pot of plants he either forgot to water or wasn’t around to. He rushes over to it and his eyes almost pop out of his head. This photo was of him smiling down at the same woman. He reaches for it, holding it close to his face. He looks around trying to make sense of what was happening only to realize the pot of dead plants now had vibrant green leaves pouring out of it.

Maybe he’d entered the wrong house? That couldn’t be, the furniture was in the same place as it had been before. And he couldn’t deny that the man in the photo looked exactly like him. Just as he was certain he was losing his mind a feminine voice calls out for him.

“John?”

He puts the picture frame back on the table and swings around towards the voice. Small bits of light flood into the hallway from the crack in the kitchen door. He slowly pushes the door further, his eyes trying to adjust to the bright light.

“There you are! I thought I heard you come home.” A woman rushes towards him wiping her hands on her pink apron. She pulls him into a hug but he’s too stunned to react. She pecks his cheeks and pulls him towards the dining table. “Sit, honey. I made you dinner. You stayed so late today, you’re probably starving.”

He lets her drag him to the table and plops down on a chair. She flows around the counter and returns with a plate of food. She places it in front of him in between the cutlery already on the table. The meal looks far better than what he’s been putting together for himself the last few weeks. He usually cooked or meal planned but work this week just didn’t let him and he expected to come home tonight and sleep for dinner.

He blinks at her for a few seconds unsure of how he ended up in this situation.

“Love, what are you doing in my house?”

“I’m your wife silly,” You giggle at him while leaning over to give him another kiss on the cheek.

If he had the energy to argue he would, but instead he decided to eat. He licks the plate clean and brings it to the kitchen sink.

“C’mon, honey. You’re so tired, let’s get you in bed.”

He follows quietly trying to figure out if he should accept this or if he should ask questions in the morning. There’s only one thing he knows for sure in his exhausted state: That’s not his wife.

#captain price #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #john price fluff #captain john price x reader #captain john price fluff #cod fluff #cod drabble #john price drabble #captain john price drabble #myfic

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dioriya · 11 days

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late night disaster, hitoshi shinsou.

1.03k. fluff. more sappiness. secret relationship things. denki being a gossip. you know.

a gentle buzz against his arm stirs him from sweet dreams and an even sweeter state of slumber. soft sceneries of gentle hands and picnics in the grass evaporate into thin air as the buzzing becomes persistent, brows furrowing above a dark violet gaze.

patting around the sheets for his phone, he squints at the offendingly bright screen for a moment to let his eyes adjust, wondering who the hell would be so cruel to bother him at…

squinting harder at his screen, he frowns once he checks the time. 2:06 AM blares back at him almost mockingly. christ.

lingering on his wallpaper for a bit—matching ones, something he’d openly say is cheesy but secretly smile at when he’s sure no one’s looking—he unlocks his phone singlehanded and scrolls until he finds who the hell decided to bother him. unopened messages from ‘annoying people’ (monoma, countless 3-B group chats, and people who wanted his number to get closer to others once he’d made the switch to class A) and other people he ‘somewhat tolerated’ (kaminari, the band gc, and so on) illuminate his features until he catches a notification pop up from an active chat.

against his better judgment, he opens it. and immediately regrets it.

kaminari’s excited texting alerts the entire chat of his presence, and soon enough, half of his classmates bombard him with prying questions and sly remarks (and the occasional keyboard smash, but that didn’t count).

hitoshi shifts slightly and exhales, briefly closing his eyes for a moment. less than ten seconds in the chat and he’s already exhausted.

‘soooo,’ kaminari types for a while, gaining his attention once more. ‘i saw two people sneak off to a certain someone’s dorm earlier…’

his heart slowly begins to hammer in his chest as the chat explodes, too many texts for him to account for filtering in before he can register any of them. worst of all, a weight on top of him begins to stir, and hitoshi can officially say his soul has left this plane of existence.

he watches, silent as you lift your head up to bear your surroundings with half lidded eyes, and wills his heart to kindly shut the fuck up. he’s almost certain you can even hear it, gaze knowing when it lands on him and causes a lazy smile to spread across your lips.

“hi, you,” your voice filters out to a tired sigh, sitting up on your knees to stretch your arms above your head, and it’s enough to almost make him forget about the dm disaster occurring in real time.

almost.

“we have a problem,” he says in greeting, and only offers his screen to show when your brows furrow in response. slowly, your eyes widen, and you slump against his shoulder with a quiet groan.

“curse you, kami. he’s so nosy.” your words are muffled into his hair and it tickles against his neck just barely. he makes no effort to move. “you should really do something about that.”

“me?” hitoshi pulls back incredulously, and narrows his eyes at the grin spreading across your lips again. “i’m the one who told you i swore i heard something back there earlier!”

“that could have been anything! everyone knows ua’s like, haunted. past mistakes and ghosts of students aizawa’s expelled.”

he snorts despite himself, and refuses to psychically react to the way you light up at the sound of his laugh. annoying, honestly, how you managed to be so—

a faint ding! breaks his mental stupor, glancing down briefly at his own screen while you pat around for yours. a few of his classmates are still pressing the blond for answers, but surprisingly, he hasn’t relented.

‘it’s totally not my place to say,’ kami wrote. ‘but just know that when everyone eventually finds out, i told you so!’

hitoshi pleasantly resists the urge to bury himself fifty feet below ground level.

“should we tell them?”

he looks up when your voice turns sheepish, teeth sinking into your lower lip nervously. “i mean—unless you really don’t want to. kami probably already knows, and it won’t be long until kirishima knows, and then he’ll probably tell mina, and then mina will tell everyone—”

your hands reach for his and squeeze, strangely reminiscent of the dream he’d been having not too long ago. comforting, reassuring. it makes him sick to his stomach in a completely positive and normal way.

“i just don’t want you to be, y’know. rushed into things. i know you like your privacy, so if this is too much, tell me.”

you smile faintly, epitome of all things good in the wretched and deceiving world, and his heart falls to his knees in defeat. or… whatever.

“we’ll tell everyone tomorrow,” he agrees slowly, and can’t help the small smile that spreads across his lips as well. “during homeroom. hopefully before aizawa comes to class.”

“yeah…”

you both wince at the memory of a previous confession falling flat just as your homeroom teacher crawled into the classroom in a neon pink sleeping bag, scaring the shit out kaminari and effectively blasting out the lights on the entire floor.

shaking his head, he puts his phone on do not disturb and wordlessly beckons you closer, settling into the comfortable position the two of you had donned before and tries to relax. you melt into his arms almost instantly, but poke his side when you feel him tense.

“don’t think about it too much, okay?” arms wrapped around his middle, you squeeze him tight and the gesture is oddly comforting. “actually—think about it this way: you no longer have to kill anyone with your eyes when they talk to me for longer than socially equired.”

once again, his heart falls to his knees… and dies. he had no idea you’d be watching him the whole time. fucking what—

trying to compose himself and the remaining dregs of his dignity, he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “you’re hallucinating.”

“midoriya told me he felt like someone was watching him, toshi.”

well. it’s not like he’d be wrong.

“go to sleep,” he says instead, and hopes you can’t hear the smile in his voice when you laugh and quietly bid him goodnight.

#bnha x you #bnha x y/n #bnha fluff #bnha fic #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha fic #mha fluff #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou x reader #shinsou x you #shinsou x y/n #shinsou fluff #shinsou fic #hitoshi x reader #hitoshi x you #hitoshi x y/n

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nataliesscatorccio · 9 months

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Alright I've rotated it in my mind for long enough now. I don't think Laura Lee dived into the shallow end of the pool on accident. I think she was trying to kill herself. Consider. This is an intelligent and athletic girl who teaches herself to fly a plane and qualifies for Nationals, yet walks right up to the "SHALLOW END" lettering and head-first plummets.

Before this we see her sitting all alone at the pool. Detached, dreamy, expressionless. The camera pans across the other VBS kids laughing and playing together. "The devil's after me / he's always throwing bricks" they chant. She is excluded from this. Then she stands up, walks to the clearly marked edge, and hits the bottom hard. Like Lottie's baptism, Laura Lee floats motionless in the water until she is yanked out, reborn. Girls in crisis, medicated with delusions. "No, Laura Lee. I didn't save you. He did." / "That's the Holy Spirit, you've been touched."

I don't think it's difficult to infer what her home life was like before the crash. I don't think it's difficult to imagine someone wanting to escape that. Someone feeling they can't live up to the expectations of their family, the church. Shamed and neglected in the name of God. This is not a new story. Her thoughts are policed to such an extent she legitimately worries thinking the word "cunt" caused them all to crash. Her teenage bedroom is comparatively bare save for a picture she kneels to pray to on the wall above her bed and the raggedy Leonard bear she's had forever. Even her sheets are plain and white, even her clothes are just an extension of the wallpaper. Suffocating. But we know when Laura Lee is trapped, she flies her way out. Even if it's a suicide mission.

She tries to kill herself and they tell her God saved her. Now she has to believe. Now she has to trust he will protect her. Now she knows he is listening. Now he has given her a sign. Now she learns to fly a plane to save her friends because she has faith God is watching and loves her and forgave her for her sin. Now her God fails her. He wasn't saving her he was only saving her for later. Now she is punished. Now she is dead. This time, she drowns in fire.

#also I think the Laura Lee and Jackie parallels are so so so strong and Jackie's passive suicidality before her actual death #feels like a mirror of Laura Lee to me #jackie passively suicidal jackie passively dying #laura lee actively suicidal laura lee actively taking the risk of death #am I right am I wrong who knows but gosh if I don't love a theory #yellowjackets #suicide mention #laura lee #lottie matthews

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gabriellaleo · 1 year

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#wallpapers #we bare bears #ice bear #black and white #color #cartoon #cartoon nerwork #picsart

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jjkasksblog · 5 months

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❤️💖Imagine jjk boys💖❤️

Yuji

Yuji is such a puppy you say you saw a cute dress in a store he will pause and ask vaguely where it is off land marks hunts down the location and gets it for you You want chocolate because you want something sweet? Done boy is running to the nearest place

Yuji literally shows off pictures of you to people he hangs with hell to people he barely knows he has you as a wallpaper just begging to have someone say who’s that he just loves you so much

One time you you confessed you get scared by yourself when he’s off on missions so he went to a store and ordered a bear and put a voice recording in it so you could have something close to ( even got it a little outfit )

Megumi

He tends to be more quiet about his feelings leaving you a home cooked meal before he leaves or picking up for favorite meal from a place you love and brushes it off like “ oh it was on my way home “ we all know it wasn’t he went out of the way to get it

Takes pictures of cats on the street and sends them to you because he knows you love cats until he calls you saying help they’re following me

One time Gojo talked you into pranking megumi and oh god was he mad you pretended to slip while he was out the man didn’t just RUN home he summoned nue and flew home rammed the door forgetting he had a key sounded like the swat team as the bird desperately tried to come in with him you learned pranks aren’t allowed

Sometimes when you fall asleep at home he comes home picking you up putting you to bed he will actively deny any of this nonsense you walked your self to bed obviously

Gojo

The man is a constant child. But you love him he will actively move things he absolutely KNOWS your looking for does it about three times because four is when you snapped and called over geto to help you while you were on the verge of tears and he felt abit bad

He brings you little trinkets he finds at the store when he should be teaching and sends a picture of his students being completely confused why they aren’t learning or doing anything slightly productive

One time he teleported you to your favorite restaurant it was a kind gesture except there was no warning no mention it would happen so your in lazy day ware full sleep top embarrassing pjs of cats hairs a huge mess as you scream then look around confused and dazed as he gives you a thumbs up “ want food?” Only thing he answers the where the hell am I questions

( hope you guys like it! It’s my first try at imagined for jjk! )

#jujutsu kaisen x reader imagine #jjk x reader imagine #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi x you #megumi fluff #megumi imagine #megumi x y/n

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dearestaeneas · 8 months

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Pappappappappap.

Turn left. Up three slats. Forward for a bit. Hang a right.

Ancient drywall dust speckled the ground at his paws, the wood old and dry and at risk for splintering. It was an absolute playground.

The rat did not know this, but the house had been abandoned for years. On the other side of the wall sat dusty furniture and heavily graffitied wallpaper, empty glass bottles, and general litter. The town had debated knocking it over, putting up a parking lot, but decided against it.

There wasn’t even a shopping mall. What would we need the lot for?

So there the house remained. Abandoned and unloved by humans. The teens who hid in the leaf-filled kitchen to smoke after school did not love the house, with its 3 floors and creaky stairs. The college students who appeared each Thanksgiving night to drink and reminisce, pretending they were anything other than babies in the world did not love the house’s study, home to an elderly desk that no one cared enough to look in. The rats and birds and insects and squirrels did not see the need for the money, or the books, or the gold watch that still, despite it all, ticked.

Pappappappappap.

His little feet pounded ever forward, his little round body squeezing effortlessly upwards between wooden planks.

The little rat, with his round body and busy feet, loved the house. He did not care about the once-expensive looking rugs, or the elegant, but stained, crown molding, and he did not care about the ornate door knobs. The little rat, in no particular order, loved these things about the house:

He loved the still-somewhat-silver silverware that sat in a kitchen drawer for the noise it made when he scurried over them (knives make for a particularly pleasant noise, with their flat edges that slide off of one another).

He loved the bookshelves that lined the walls of most of the rooms, because they made for excellent perches to sit on to survey the floor (not to mention that if one of the books could be knocked over, a page could be taken for a nest with incredible ease).

He loved the plushies left behind in one of the smaller upstairs rooms. There was one that looked like him! Although this was not his favorite (that honor belonged to a little brown bear, who lay on his back, leaving his stomach open for the most wonderful of naps), it pleased him. A mirror had been knocked off the bathroom cabinet and shattered, its shards sparkling on the floor. The little rat tended to avoid that room, knowing simply that the little silver points were bad news, and not needing more information than that. However, he had not come to this conclusion without first exploring the room, for the initial shattering had mimicked the pleasant sounds of the silverware, but times a thousand. He was intrigued by the other little round-bodied rat who looked back at him from one of the shards. He hoped he was not lonely in there.

But the little rat did not love the house for what it contained. Its contents were beneficial and made life interesting and wonderful, but he would have loved the house if it were vacant and cold and bare and boring. The little rat loved the house because it was his home, and because his home loved him.

His home protected him from the rain and the snow and the cold and the heat, his home kept him entertained and safe and happy. He needed nothing and wanted for less.

Pappappappappappap.

He wanted to do something nice for his home. But what did he have to offer? He couldn’t fix the leaky roof, or replace a cracked tile, couldn’t put a chair back upright or even change a lightbulb.

Ultimately, he decided the best way he could show his love would simply be to live in his home. His home would understand his limitations, while still seeing that the little rat stayed because he wanted to, and because staying was important to him.

He climbed higher and higher, ascending more and more wooden slats and boards, scurrying from opening to opening, until finally: a break in the wall.

Drywall parted, and the little rat felt himself becoming giddy. He inched forward, his little nose twitching furiously, his little black eyes boggling.

He panted slightly, having climbed all the way up to the second floor. A journey that would take a human seconds had taken him several minutes. He looked out from his little hole in the drywall to see the ancient chandelier at eye level. If he wanted, he could climb all the way to the very top, and look down onto the chandelier. He’d done this several times, and would, inevitably, do it again.

But there was something magical to being eye level with the sparkly glass. He would say nature played a cruel joke on him, leading him to his home and cursing him with his blurred vision, stopping him from admiring the intricate details of the crystal before him, but the simple problem with this is that he didn’t know any better, didn’t know there was a world outside of the outlines and colors he saw. He loved his home for its outlines and colors, for the way that the chandelier caught the light at certain hours of the day. He loved the sparkle of the rainbow that was cast about the entryway.

Nature was not cruel, nature did not punish him or play jokes. It loved him. It loved him the way he loved his home, it protected him and marveled at him and delighted in his joy.

He sat there, squeaking with great contentment as the sun went down and its rays caught the glass, bathing him and the home he loved in color.

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