#oof i hurt myself making this

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

*

[indiegame]

dude im being so brave rn

[kuromi-hoemie]

last rb stressed me out lowkey akakska i had an ex like that and it became a self fulfilling prophecy kinda thing..

[daz4i]

need a boyfriend but also romance is disgusting but also I'm obsessed with it and want to feel it but also i don't want to commit or feel constricted by a limited relationship but also sometimes the idea of belonging to one person is nice but also no it doesn't i am a person not an object but also yes i am or at least i would be if i could but also i would never trust anyone enough for that but also i wish i could but also

[hecksupremechips]

Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over

Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰

[arklay]

tagged by @florbelles @denerims @jillvalcntines @jendoe @leviiackrman @aceghosts @indorilnerevarine @swordcoasts @nuclearstorms & @morvaris to do this quiz for some of my ocs, so have the horror girlies – thank you all so so much ily guys! ♡

tagging: @aartyom @aelyosos @brujah @cultistbase @faarkas @girlbosselrond @lightwardens @liurnia @narshadda @nocticulas @prometheas @reaperkiller @risingsh0t @shadowsofrose @snowthroat @solasan @steelport @stormveils @voerman & you! if you've already done this, my bad, just ignore me. but as always, no pressure to do this, of course! ♡

TRAGIC HORROR TROPES.

— the final girl.

the final girl comes out the other end of trauma alive – or, they were supposed to. honestly, you're not so sure you're really alive anymore. you saw the same hurt take those you were closest to while everyone paraded your bruises and bravery, as strength, as if you're the hero. and it hurts. you're tired and you don't want to have to be brave anymore. whatever you went through, it changed so much of who you were that you're still getting used to the person you see in the mirror. you didn't have a say in any of it, but you're here now, and that's gotta count for something. you'll make it count for something. but first, you need to let yourself find rest.

— the witch.

people need to find blame wherever they can; it makes the bad things in their life feel just a touch more bearable. the witches are so often blamed for the curses others are under that no one even questions it anymore. you point to a supposed witch and everyone else prepares the stake, no matter their innocent. to be born and believed a witch is one of the worst curses of them all – you can have friends and family, but there's always a dread that someday, someone will point to you, and everyone you once trusted will throw you into the pyre. if you're here, reading this, you've probably been burned before. and i don't blame you for wanting to hide away, to really become the witch they all say you are, to curse them. but to be a witch is to brush your fingertips over the bark of a tree and watch it grow a touch stronger. keep that in mind.

— the vampire.

it is the loneliest day of a vampire's life, the first time they look into a mirror and see their reflection missing. drinking blood sucks too, don't get me wrong, but as a vampire you had to learn to hide from the sunlight, from your family, all your friends, because you were unavoidably different now and you didn't know how to explain that to them in a way they would understand. you could get stranger's blood in bursts, but what is life when you can't know someone for longer than the night lasts? you left everything behind because it was easier than trying to tell them. i just hope you know you're not the only vampire out there, and that there exist people who will understand your situation without a word. they'll sit with you in the dark for as long as you'll need them to.

— the mummy.

here's the thing about mummies – why the hell is anyone opening up their tombs? you were resting. you were peaceful. but someone intruded, barged in and broke down your walls and stole all the parts of yourself that you cherished, and then blamed you for being angry. blamed you for chasing them down no matter how fast they ran and how many obstacles they put in your path. and you know what? they deserve your rage. they destroyed something sacred. they didn't give a shit, and they wouldn't ever have lamented their actions had it not been for you – the real hero – getting up and showing them that they don't have the right to destroy and pillage as they please. that is your home. that is your body. nothing they do can take that from you. if not for you, they probably would've kept breaking into tombs and disturbing restful lives without a second thought. you won't be repaid for your good, but i hope you know you are a saviour in your own right.

[liebelesbe]

hmmmmmmm

[spamton-addison]

shoutout to things that i experience just often enough for them to be a nuisance but just rarely enough that any time i talk about it it feels like im just making shit up for attention even when i am literally not

[bunnihearted]

.

[panlyv]

a

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine nearly beating a bitch when they imply that ex-husband Gojo was anything but completely devoted.

Being married to one of the most powerful sorcerers in history was bound to garner some rumors. But the the rumor mill really went wild after your divorce.

You'd grown to ignore the rumors that Satoru left because you were unable to have children after Sen. Or that his Clan ordered you to divorce (though they would have if they could). Or that you weren't a strong enough sorcerer to maintain his interest. People could make up all kinds of baseless things, so you grew to ignore them quickly enough.

But of all the cruel, accusatory, presumptuous rumors surrounding your divorce, one stood far above the rest.

"Satoru Gojo's wife left him because of his wandering eye."

As if people knew anything about him. About how "devotion" is the core of his personality.

So, yes, you might have sent an up-and-coming clan heir through a wall at an official meeting. But she had it coming.

Sukuna sighs and yanks you back into your seat. "Calm down. The bitch doesn't know what she's talking about."

"Excuse me?" the young heir gasped. "How dare you speak of me that way?"

You flick a hand and send a water snake directly at her face, making sure to direct it at an angle that would force water right up her sinuses. She coughs and gags.

"Satoru was utterly devoted to me and our son. Our marriage may not have lasted, but he is still the most loving man I've ever met. If I ever hear another nasty comment about him from you again, I will remove your tongue," you growl.

The other clan staff sitting around the table gape at you. No one moves to help the young heir.

"Looks like this meeting's over," Sukuna drawls, gathering his papers. "Good thing. This was such a waste of time. Come back when you actually have something for me that makes sense." He shifts into his Ryomen form and uses his extra arms to grab your stuff. "C'mon, brat. I'm done with these idiots."

~

Imagine doing a consultation at Tokyo High and being a little extra nice to ex-husband Gojo.

"I organized each file with color tabs. They're pretty self-explanatory," you explain, handing over the stack.

"And here's to think you could hardly read when we met," Satoru teases.

"Hilarious," you deadpan. "And I left a bag of sandwiches and a gallon of cut fruit for you in the employee fridge. Don't forget to eat again or I'll force feed you myself."

Satoru's eyebrows lift. "Oh. That's different. What brought this on? Are you buttering me up for something? What'd you do?"

You scoff and make to leave his office. "I just don't need Suguru to complain to me about you passing out or something. Don't think about it too hard."

"Alright, thanks."

Just before you cross the threshold, you hear, "Thank you for defending me. You didn't have to do that."

You turn halfway and eye him warily. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Kuna ratted you out."

"Of course he did."

"Nice try, though." He gives you a rare smile.

Satoru never smiled much. He laughed, pouted, or sly grinned plenty, but you hadn't seen his gentle smile in a while. It made him look younger.

"Well." You shrug. "Bitches who don't know any better should keep their mouths shut."

He laughs. "The Teenage Jailbird version of you still jumps out sometimes, I see."

"She gets the job done." You linger in the doorway for a moment. Then you move before you can change your mind.

Satoru turns his chair to face you when you run round the desk and lets out a soft "oof" when you lock him in a tight embrace. Your clench fistfuls of his uniform jacket.

"It's okay." Satoru pats your back. "I'm not hurt. Really."

You have to pry yourself from him, but you manage. Wiping a stray tear - that even Satoru is surprised to see - you nod resolutely.

"Okay, well. Don't forget to eat or whatever. Bye, Satoru."

Satoru watches you speed walk down the hall. The six eyes pick up on you stopping outside the school gates and running your hands down your face. Once you're gone, he returns to his admin work newly energized.

It was hard to explain to you when you were married, but those little moments of affirmation made all the difference to him.

~ Thanks for reading!

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[corner-master]

Ok, but like imagine if it wasn’t a parallel DC Universe. 

Imagine if it was a Marvel universe, or Astro City, or any of the many other Superhero universes that exist so far? Imagine having to explain to people that Yes, you’re going to be saved because your being transported to another Earth World, but that world is going to be different. That while some things will be eerily the same, others will be starkly different.

For example, The White house will Exist. The Eiffel Tower in Paris Will Exist. The Great Wall of China, The Pyramids, the Taj Mahal and hundreds of other famous locations throughout the world will all still Exist. But Gotham will not exist. Neither will Metropolis, or Star City, or Themyscira, or Atlantis. These places will simply not exist because they never did and in their place will be empty spaces or completely different cities that once held their own civilizations.

Can you imagine how jarring it would be for literally everyone, especially when a greater portion of the populace will have been made effectively homeless while others haven’t? Bruce Wayne will have lost not just his home but his entire city, but someone else managed to get their crappy-but-still-loved apartment back because it was built in the same location as their prior universe? But then even those that ‘got to keep their homes’ may still find it jarring when they first walk in the front door. Because what are the chances that everything would be exactly the same?

Did they always have that rug, or wasn’t it a different color? Where did these clothes come from? Who are the people in those pictures? We certainly don’t recognize them but yet here they are hanging on our walls? Who is that person in our wedding picture, because it certainly isn’t me?! Who are... who are these children standing next to our own and why do they look so familiar?

Imagine walking through your brand new world and see the newspaper articles about the Heroes that occupied those front pages? The battles they fought, the disasters that were averted, the gratitude that was given to the saviors of this world... and the horrifying realization that this isn’t a make believe world that they got dumped on. It was real. The people were real. Their Lives were real. All the happy little moments, the hard times they managed through, every accomplishment that was celebrated and every failure that was learned from. An entire History of the world that was, and the promise of a better Future if they just never gave up, if they kept trying, because surely everything will be alright in the end, the Heroes will stop that madman just like they’ve triumphed every other time, and then everything will...

And now it’s all gone.

Except, no. It isn’t.

Because they’re still here.

And none of them are happy.

DP x DC prompt

The Justice League failed and the earth will blow in 8 minutes. They can't evacuate everyone on the planet, they are all tired and can barely move.

In a last ditch effort John and Zatanna call upon the King of the Infinite Realms for help.

Danny said he can't stop the planet from blowing up and the Justice League sighed in defeat. But then he goes on to say that he can save everyone on earth.

The League wondered how he could. So he told them he'll just move the entire population of earth to a different earth so similar to theirs it would be extremely difficult to tell the difference.

He tells them the only difference is that on that earth the Heroes and even the Villains failed to stop a big evil from turning everyone including animal into dust.

And after he finishes relocating everyone to the different earth he will then swap the earth's around so that they remain in their original universe.

For his payment Danny told them that he will take everything valuable from the earth that's about to explode. That means precious metals, vehicles, mansions, weapons, artwork, magical artifacts, villains and heroes equipment, he will take everything.

[oreo-creampie]

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮; 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: some punishment for bratting, hints of jealous!brat!reader, confessions, full Nelson, praise/degradation, control orgasm, creampie, Satoru doesn't last long once he feels you, cream pie, hints of pussy drunk Satoru, overstimulation, choking, manhandling, light size kink, light begging

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Imagine you’re being a brat and to punish you gojo turns on infinity so you can’t touch him and you HATE it. He’s driving you insane and you can’t even touch him..oof

Oreo: I'm sorry this took forever 😓, I'm so glad I got to it, it was so much fun to write thank you for this wonderful prompt lovely anon

You’re full of Satoru’s long cock, gliding your sloppy cunt on him. Your sensitive clit rubbing the skin above his cock. “Please I wanna feel your warm cock, I miss feeling your head rub deep in my cunt.” Your cunt spasms, clenching his cock, your thick cum trickling down his balls.

He won’t cum, unable to get close due to not being able to feel your soft cunt gliding on his cock. With his arms crossed behind his head, and a large smirk on his face, he doesn’t seem to be bothered.

Leaning forward, hands above his chest. You want to feel his thick pecs, glide your fingers along the hard line of his abs. “It’s been an hour! My knees and legs are hurting! Please! I can’t keep going!” Pausing with his hard cock stuffed in your sore cunt.

Your knees throbbing, thighs trembling. “I wanna make you cum! Wanna feel your puffy veins pulse right before you do. Please I’m sorry for getting jealous, I wanted all of your attention!” It’s not fair not being able to touch your beautiful Satoru.

Sliding your hand down his bare sculpted chest admiring him. “I know you’re an attention-needy brat no matter how much I give you you’ll always want more.” He grabs your hips, without actually touching you. “That’s what I love about you, you and your greedy cunt can keep up with me.”

Looking away your cheeks burn, “I love you too, I’m worried you’ll tire of me.” Satoru slowly gliding you off his cock, standing up turning you around with ease. Reaching back, the infinity vanishes allowing you to slide your fingers through his undercut over his blind fold. Grabbing a fistful of his fluffy, soft hair.

His chest warm pressed to your back, lining up his cock. You moan in relief, the warmth and softness of his cock head stroking your cunt. “Whose are you?” Nudging in just the tip, holding your there. After being denied so long it’s not enough.

Wiggling your hips, you can't slip anymore of him inside. He hooks your legs over his arms, firmly clasping his hands around your neck. “I’m yours! I'm all yours! I’m a greedy jealous slut who wants you all to myself. I can’t get enough please! Please fuck me!” Moaning, biting your bottom lip, curling your toes.

Satoru feels better than anything else could. His large warm hands around your neck, the weightless feeling of held up and mercilessly fucked. You cry, tensing up when he hits your cervix.

It’s a strange, overwhelming intense almost painful sensation that becomes better with ease hit. Satoru ruts his hips up to meet your hips when he forces you down on his long, being cock. “That’s it!” Satoru’s breathy moans are beautiful, your cunt clenching his veiny cock.

He croons, “That was a punishment for me too not being able to feel ya sweet cunt. Missed it so much, I'll stop her from flirting, make it clear that I'm lucky to be yours.” Fucking your sloppy cunt faster, stroking your sweet spot, bruising your soft cervix. Making it hard to think.

“Whose am I?” His words fall of deaf ears, whining, cuming, squeezing Satoru. The thick veins on his cock pulse, his head nudges deep inside and you feel warm thick cum spurting out.

Refusing to stop, unable to get enough of your tight, squelching cunt. “You’re mine! My Toru! My handsome sugarbear! Please! That it! Right there please, your cock feels so good.” He squeezes your neck.

Your sloppy wet cunt gripping him just right, keeping his sensitive cock hard. “All yours sweetheart, fuck, I don't want anyone else but you beautiful. Your slutty little cunt is perfect, the way you say my name, how you welcome me home, fuck I love getting your texts throughout the day. Nnn if I saw someone else flirting with you, I'd been making you scream my name till your voice goes out.”

Oreo creampie’s m.list

[daz4i]

i know aging isn't the end of the world and 24 isn't that old and life isn't a race etc etc etc. however,

[cloudwisp]

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬

contents: fluff. satoru makes sweet promises about the future with you. 800 wc.

“What would you say if I retired today?”

The words left his mouth so easily—like they’re one of the many frivolous musings that comes and goes, an afterthought when the shared laughter and playful teasing had died down a bit. Behind his loose grin, Satoru carefully studies your face as he weighs the question in your mind, as though they bear no consequence and he wants to hear your answer no matter how serious or unserious he’s being.

“Retire…” You drawl thoughtfully, “You mean put your sorcerer work behind you?” You more than readily welcome the idea than you let on, it’s all you can think about sometimes and keeps you awake at night. You knew about the dangers and the shortcomings that his lifestyle posed, but your love for him outweighs the troubles and the fears and the risks that come with loving someone like him—that is Satoru Gojo.

Not the Strongest Sorcerer, the leader of something, just a normal person who has a fondness for the sweeter things and never lets good humor go to waste if he could help it. If he truly decided to retire from now onwards he won’t have to participate in another dangerous mission again, no more of those dreadful overseas assignments that keeps you both apart for long stretches of time, and you could get used to knowing that he gets to come home to you every night.

“Well, okay. I suppose I could become the breadwinner for once.”

Satoru lets out a pleased laugh. His arm that encircled your waist tightens as he squeezes you with great affection, receiving a small oof from you and quick gentle pats of surrender before he crushes your lungs. He’s sitting on an abundance of wealth for the both of you to lead a comfortable life, and you’re cute for worrying about finances in the foreseeable future. Maybe he doesn’t spoil his precious sweetheart far enough, he thinks.

“I guess you’ll need to work triple time in order to afford my expensive taste.” He teases, pinching your cheek between his fingers. “We can be a dynamic duo. You can work while I stay home.” He mutters softly, letting his hand settle against the nape of your neck while his thumb brushes against your cheek. “Would I be a good househusband?”

“You’d be awful.” You were a little quick to say, almost shuddering at the thought. He feigns a hurt expression with the slightest furrow to his brows and an adorable pout lines his lips. He had an affinity for sweets as shown in your fully stocked pantry but navigating the rest of the kitchen would cause quite an upheaval despite his best efforts. “Maybe at first anyway.”

“You think I won’t be able to clean or cook properly?” Satoru complains dramatically, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder. You attempt to push him away between your giggles as the ends of his hair tickles you and he gently nips away at your skin, but his large build unsurprisingly wouldn’t budge. He lays a light kiss here and there shortly after, his voice lowering into a playful whisper. “Giving up on me already, huh? Too bad, that was your only chance of seeing me in an apron~”

Satoru comes up to meet your gaze and he catches your lips for a sweet taste, the warmth of his body sinking into yours and your arms wrap around him to bring him in a little deeper. “Are you saying I wouldn’t be able to control myself around you if I came home to you wearing an apron?” It was your turn to pinch his cheeks fondly and you consider something. “But it’s a nice thought—you wanting to lead a different life.”

“I want to make you a promise,” he begins slowly, and there’s a beautiful look behind his cerulean hues filled with just pure adoration and love that’s reserved only for you. “When my time comes and I’m ready to call it quits, I’ll retire with you by my side. We’ll move somewhere peaceful and quiet—as secluded as you like. We could even travel the world if that's what my baby wishes, just the two of us.”

“That’s a big promise you’re making me.” You raise an eyebrow at him. But you like the dream that he’s sharing with you, no matter how close or how far out of reach it may seem. And so, a warm smile softens your face. “Just me and you?”

“Yes, Angel.” He grins happily, pulling you closer so his heartbeat matches yours and the sound lulls into one under the moon’s gaze. As long as you keep giving him every excuse in the world to keep you within arms’ reach—forever, then it’s contentment and peace and everything else in between he’ll find with you. If you’re there, then that’s home for him. “Just us and the sky.”

꒰ note ᰔ still coping with everything that’s happened along with ch. 261 so hope you enjoyed this something silly and something fluff for our sweet loverboy satoru. ꒱

[kkvqwrites]

Bedside Manner

Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.

Word Count: 2,587

Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell

CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures

A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!

"Dear? Everything okay?"

The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.

"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.

"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.

"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.

______________________________________________________________

The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.

"It's open!"

Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.

"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"

"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."

"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.

"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.

"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."

"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.

"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.

"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."

"Where are we at?"

"Thirteen minutes, sir."

The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.

"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"

"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.

"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "

"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."

"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."

The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.

"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."

You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."

The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."

______________________________________________________________

Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.

"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"

"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"

Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"

Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.

______________________________________________________________

True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.

The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.

You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.

Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.

______________________________________________________________

"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:

"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."

"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.

"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.

"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."

"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."

"What? How do you know?"

"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."

The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.

"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"

"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"

Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.

______________________________________________________________

"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.

Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.

"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.

"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"

"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.

One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could. 

 The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-” 

Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.

“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."

Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.

______________________________________________________________

You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.

“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.

“Thank God for that,” he replied.

“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”

“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.

“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”

“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”

On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”

“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”

You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.