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goingmorry · 4 years ago

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The Art of Domesticity [Trafalgar Law x Fem! Reader]

Synopsis: On a whim, Law decides to indulge you with a hot bath. Feeling lethargic despite your nap, you are more than delighted to take him up on his offer.

Tags: domestic fluff, sexually suggestive themes, male and female nudity, established relationship

Word Count: 2,161

In the depths of the Grand Line, deadly sea creatures swim idly by, patiently waiting for the next unsuspecting shipwrecked pirate to serve as their next meal.

Not long after, an unknown object of immeasurable speed barrels across the ocean floor, whirring past the mess of Sea Kings. Intent on chomping down on the foreign entity, the creatures join together in pursuit.

A yellow submarine, adorned with a Jolly Roger resembling a smiley face and inscribed with the words "DEATH," shakes beneath the water pressure.

The Polar Tang, home to the notorious Heart Pirates, aggressively reverberates in response to the Sea Kings' pursuit, mimicking the chaos inside the ship.

Meanwhile, in the control room, Captain Trafalgar Law stands at attention, face impassive as he calmly assesses the situation. In contrast to the rest of the crew's panicked behavior, Law had complete confidence in his crew's ability to make it out of this predicament unharmed. Right on cue, Law watches as his navigator, Vice-Captain Bepo, expertly maneuvers the ship away from dubious underwater beasts and excess debris. Under Bepo's supervision, Shachi and Penguin carefully operate the numerous controls to keep the sub afloat. In the engine room, Ikkaku and Jean Bart attend to the ship's generators, air compressors, and fuel pumps, ensuring their pristine condition during the onslaught.

After weeks of being submerged, the Polar Tang steadily heads to the surface. And with every second that passes, the distance between the pirates and the monsters increases until the vessel can no longer be seen by their pursuers. Sure enough, having lost sight of their target, it became apparent to the Sea Kings that they were no match for the submarine's speed. Where the ship once was, only faint bubble traces remain.

Unbeknownst to the pirate crew, loud rumbling sounds vibrate across the sea bed, the Sea Kings' roars echoing across the deep oceans, scaring away small fishes that dare to come close.

"We've lost sight of them, Captain," Bepo exclaims, swiveling his chair in Law's direction.

"So it seems," Law says, grabbing the nearby Den Den Mushi to announce their successful escape to the entire crew.

Almost immediately, Penguin and Shachi cheer in conjunction with the rest of the crew's boisterous laughter. To celebrate their victory, the Polar Tang resurfaces, providing an opportunity for the crew to receive some much-needed sunlight.

The turbulent atmosphere moments ago can no longer be found, replaced by a serene calmness. In celebration, the Heart Pirates gather in the upper deck, engaging themselves in various recreational activities. The perfect time to disappear for a bit, Law thinks.

Voicing these thoughts, Law directly addresses Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin. "I'll be in my room."

Shachi nudges Penguin, suggestively wiggling their eyebrows at each other. Bepo curiously looks at the duo, sneaking glances at his captain, while Law scowls at their childishness.

"Don't worry, Captain! We'll make sure no one bothers you two!" Penguin blurts out, earning a swift elbow to his ribs.

"You idiot! Be more discreet next time!" Shachi angrily whispers in Penguin's ear, looking around to see if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation, before continuing, "They're still in the honeymoon phase."

"More like hornymoon phase," Penguin huffs, causing both of them to break out in uncontrollable giggles. Bepo lets out an innocent smile.

Choosing not to respond since nothing he could say could convince Shachi and Penguin otherwise, Law hurries to his quarters, leaving the two to their incessant bickering.

- - - - - - - - - -

Standing in front of his bedroom, Law raises his hand to give two light raps to the door. He frowns at the lack of response, turning the door handle to reveal your upper body sprawled on his desk. He pauses for a moment before walking over to your slumped form. Upon closer inspection, you were sleeping soundlessly, seemingly unaware of earlier's events. Your head was nestled atop your forearms, an expression of serenity overcoming your features. Sheets of paper and various writing instruments were strewn across the corner of the desk, haphazardly pushed aside to accommodate your slumbering figure.

Law lifts his tattooed hand, gently brushing the stray hair that had fallen on your face. He runs his fingers across your unruly hair, noticing several tangled knots that had formed. Despite your less-than-ideal appearance, however, you never looked more beautiful in his eyes.

Deciding to let you sleep for a moment longer, Law saunters over to the bathroom, intent on running a bath for himself and you, should you choose to wake up in time to join him.

The sound of the water steadily splashing as it fills the tub is enough to rouse you.

Your eyes flutter open, turning around in search of the source of the noise before landing on the ajar door leading to the bathroom. A familiar lanky figure - sporting his signature leopard jeans - crouches over the tub. You couldn't see the top half of his body, but you were pretty sure he was monitoring the tub's water level. Not long after, you hear the sound of the faucet turning, and the water stops. Law stands up, walking over to lean against the doorframe. His golden eyes meet yours in amusement, mouth turning upward in a slight smirk.

"Mmm... Did something happen?" you mumble, voice raspy from your nap. You stretch your arms over your head, groaning in satisfaction before leaning back against the headrest of the chair. Despite the needed rest, you didn't feel as refreshed as you'd hoped. You felt so exhausted, your lips dry and your mouth parched.

Law must have noticed your tiredness in your appearance and voice. He reacts almost immediately, enveloping you in a familiar blue film. "Room," he says in that low tone you've come to love before a mug of water appears on the desk in front of you. You blink at him in surprise, humming appreciatively.

"I... Thanks," you say, gripping the mug between your hands before taking generous gulps. He can be so thoughtful when he wants to be, you think, unable to hide the smile gracing your lips as you do so.

He returns your hidden smile with a smile of his own. "Nothing important," he vaguely adds.

You look at him in confusion before realizing his was response was to your previous question. You nod in acknowledgment, deciding not to pry, before setting the now empty mug aside.

Law walks over to his side of the bed, pulling his cap off to set it down on the nightstand, keeping it relatively safe and away from tonight's activities.

"I ran you a bath. Get in it."

He glances at you before striding over to the bathroom. You cock an eyebrow at his retreating figure.

Before you have the chance to retort, he pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it over to the laundry basket. The sight of his muscled backside, inked with his jolly roger, makes the words die in your throat.

Before you can stop yourself, your tongue peeks out from the corner of your mouth to moisten your chapped lips. Your thirst was for an entirely different reason now.

"Don't keep me waiting." As if seemingly aware of his effect on you, Law disappears behind the door, the sound of clothes rustling reach your ears, no doubt the sound of the remainder of his clothes being shed. You can hear the amusement dripping in his honeyed tone, can picture the full-blown smirk evident on his face.

You reflexively gulp, feeling your body flush in response to his invitation. You've seen Law naked plenty of times by now, you reassure yourself. Have become well-acquainted with each other's bodies. Know firsthand how the heart tattoo inked on his chest ripples under your teasing touch as your hands trail down his chiseled abs. How the sweat glistens his toned skin and how his usually impassive face contorts in pleasure as he thrusts into-

You shake your head to keep the dirty thoughts at bay.

We're just having a nice relaxing bath together, you think, not entirely convincing yourself.

Following his lead, you stroll over to the laundry basket, stripping yourself of your clothing to join Law in the bath. Your head peeks out from the corner of the open bathroom door while the rest of your naked body remains in the bedroom, away from his prying eyes, your nervous gesture making it appear as though you were an innocent virgin.

Adorable, he thinks.

You look at each other expectantly, your eyes admiring his perfectly relaxed posture. His jet-black hair was in disarray, poking out in all directions, evidence of his combing through them in a careless fashion. His arms were stretched to the sides, slim fingers gripping the edges of the tub. His naked upper body was in full display; the dark ink of his tattoos was a stark contrast to the white bubbles that formed on the surface of the water, obscuring the lower half of his body.

You clear your throat, eyes returning to meet his golden ones that were alight with apparent amusement. "Sorry to intrude."

Law chuckles, the sound of his baritone voice echoing across the bathroom walls, only for your ears to hear. When you take a step forward and close the door behind you, his eyes drop to your naked form, shamelessly admiring your breasts and derrière.

"You look like you're enjoying yourself," you say indignantly, pausing right in front of the tub, his brazen admiration of your nudity quickly restoring your confidence.

"I am," he says without hesitation, golden hues darkening with desire at your bold gesture.

Leaning over the tub, you bring your face close to his, lips a breath away from touching. For a moment, you pull back to admire his rugged handsomeness, fingers ghosting over his goatee to his cheek before settling on the back of his neck. Lightly tugging his hair, you pull him in for a chaste kiss, your free hand grasping the edge of the tub for balance. Law has other plans, however, as he reciprocates by licking the bottom of your lips for permission to dive into the wet expanse of your mouth. You let him, of course, moaning at the feel of his demanding tongue as it fights against yours for control.

His hand snakes across the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging, mirroring your previous actions, while his other hand firmly kneads your breast. You groan against his mouth at the display of dominance in his rough handling of your body, loving how depraved he can be when aroused by you.

After what seems like an eternity, his hands gently encircle your waist, coaxing your body to join him into the warm pool of the tub. You oblige, breaking off the kiss to positioning yourself in between his legs, facing toward him. You sigh in contentment at the feel of the bubbled water and the warmth emanating from his bare body. Making an executive decision not to escalate further should both of you decide to forego the bath in favor of more risque activities, you avoid the softness of his lips. Instead, your mouth latches onto his neck, leaving trailing kisses to his jaw before stopping to rest your head at the crook of his shoulder. In response, Law sighs in defeat, hands rubbing reassuring circles against your back. The heated passion of your earlier kiss was replaced with soothing affection.

"Will you wash my hair?" you ask, voice slightly muffled against his skin.

Law looks down at your head nuzzled against him, eyes softening at your vulnerable state. "Honestly, you're hopeless without me," he says before nudging you over to turn around.

You do as your told, adjusting yourself into a comfortable position. His hands reach over the side of the tub for your shampoo, squeezing a sizable portion onto his hands, lathering it up into a foam. His hands weave into your hair, softly massaging the shampoo into your scalp in circular motions, careful to avoid your ears.

You can't help the wide grin that stretches across your face, thankful that your lover can't see your smile from the way you're positioned away from him. Trafalgar Law - a notoriously fearsome pirate, Captain of the Heart Pirates, and a former Warlord of the Sea - is the perfect picture of a doting boyfriend as he methodically applies shampoo onto his girlfriend's head, eyebrows furrowing in deep concentration.

"I love you," you say as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

His hands still for a moment before resuming their ministrations. And though you've said it plenty of times before, he can't help the wild beating of his fragile heart in response to your sincere declaration.

While words fail him, actions don't. Law pulls you into a comforting hug, wrapping his strong arms around your shoulders as you lean back against his defined chest, blissful in each other's embrace.

- - - - - - - - - -

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jonesyjonesyjonesy · 4 years ago

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wild, or that time of the month

a john paul jones x fem!reader oneshot

summary: That time of the month and the timing couldn't be worse since you have to play happy hostess tonight. But maybe John can help release some of the tension.

notes: nsfw, discussion of menstruation, blood, but also genuine curiosity and love for the menstruating body 🥺

a/n: Um yeah. I like period sex and I hope you do too. It's also my birthday and while I was hoping to have the next bit of Wildflowers up, that didn't manifest so. Happy birthday to me 🥰

"I can’t believe I’ve never seen you like this."

You bury your head further into the pillow and tighten your knees up to your chest. Cramps don’t normally lay you so low, but today, you find yourself unable to think about anything else. It’s the aching in your legs that you can’t abide.

You climbed into bed an hour ago at John’s behest after he found you crumpled in the bathroom with your forehead pressed against the porcelain tub. At first, you protested; there was a laundry list of things that needed to be done and you only had so much time. You can’t afford to be down for a whole day. Tonight, of all nights, you’re having friends over for dinner to see the new house. But he was adamant, always is, and as soon as you slipped beneath the covers, you knew he was right.

The door creaks open and John peaks his head in, the grocery list you scribbled this morning at the kitchen table in hand. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Are you feeling any better?”

You don’t reply with words, just groan.

“That’s not reassuring,” he chuckles and sits at the edge of the bed beside you. John pushes your hair back from your face, the pads of his fingers grazing your throbbing temple. “I’m going to go pick up the things on your list, but your shorthand is more like an enigma cipher.”

You can’t help but smile.

“I would hate to mistake baking powder for soda and ruin the evening,” he says.

You reach for the list and screw your eyes together to see through your haze.

“Would you like to cancel, darling?”

“No, we can’t, it’s too late for that,” you sigh. “Hand me that pen, will you?”

He does and you begin to rescript the list.

“Are you sure? They’d understand.”

They would, you’re sure of that. But you both have been looking forward to this for weeks, the house finally staged to your liking, the garden in full bloom, the two of you settled into a joyful domesticity. “I’ll be better by then.”

“You were muttering to yourself earlier, ‘I want to die, I want to die, I want to die,’” John quotes you somewhat melodramatically, but with a hint of worry in his voice.

You look to him; his lips are pursed together and watchful eyes trying to discern if you’re being honest about your state. “Don’t worry too much about me, I’ll…” you clear your throat, handing the list back. “I’ll be up and about by the time you get back.”

He takes the list, folds it, and slips it into his pocket gingerly. You are entranced by the way his fingers are so precise, even for pedestrian things. “I hate to tell you, but I’m not very convinced,” John says.

You aren’t really either. The cramps are aggressive, sending furious ache all the way down to your ankles. "If you could refill the hot water bottle on your way out.”

“Of course,” John answers. He knows he won’t change your mind on this, even if he wishes he could. He leans down and kisses you on the lips chastely, before leaving with the hot water bottle.

It’s only one kiss, one ordinary, habitual kiss, but it’s left your body confused. There’s a perversity to your time of the month always, the painful ache mixed with an intense level of desire you don’t normally seek to sate with John. Not when you’re so fresh into your period. You do so privately and quickly, which often alleviates some of the pain. Although, it has crossed your mind that with John’s assistance; perhaps you could get even more relief from both forms of ache.

You sit up in bed and press a hand to the outside of your underwear, giving yourself a gentle wave of pleasure. Once John leaves, you’ll delve your hands inside and scratch the itch, wash your hands, and be up and about by the time he’s back. He’ll probably look at you with raised eyebrows as if you’ve been resurrected from the dead.

John returns a bit later with the hot water bottle which you gratefully take from him and put into your lap. “Anything else? Before I go?” he asks with a smile.

There is something about him right now that you’re finding hard to resist. The way he provides his willing ministry is so genuine, so kind. You want him to destroy you.

“John…” you say and slip a hand against his slim waist.

“Yes?” his voice glides upward and his eyes narrow as if he knows where you’re going.

“Could I ask you for a big favor?”

John nods. A lock of his hair falls from behind his ear.

“You can say no.”

“You’re really selling this so far.”

You flush. “Well, you’re a very…you are very quick to please me and I don’t want you to feel pressured if – “

“What are you getting at, Y/N?” John asks with a crooked smile. It only makes you want him more.

“Would you maybe…” you trail off. “Could you…” You’re too afraid to say the words. You don’t want to sound stupid. You lean your face into the lower part of his belly and groan.

John laughs, “Love –”

“Could you fuck me?” you say, muffled into his shirt.

“What?” John asks confusedly, unable to hear you.

You take a deep breath and repeat, “Could you…fuck me?”

“Stop that, say what you need to say,” he mumbles and leans back to see your eyes.

You must rip off the bandage. “I said could you fuck me?!”

His eyes widen.

You recoil uneasily. “…please.”

“Um…”

“Like I said, it’s alright if –“

“No, no, I just didn’t expect that, I – “ John stops short. He looks away from you a moment, searching for the right thing to say. “That would make you feel better?”

You nod, “Yes, I think so.”

“You’re sure?” He’s skeptical. And you’re unsure if it’s resistance.

“Only if you –“

“No, no, Y/N,” John interrupts. The bridge of his nose goes red. “I’m embarrassed to say that that is something I’ve always really wanted to do.”

You notice that the fabric around his crotch has slightly tensed and you smile, “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I don’t know why,” he half-laughs, “But there’s something about you this time of the month that makes me kind of…wild.”

Wild. Now that is a word you didn’t expect him to use in this context. You imagine that while you’ve been quietly pleasuring yourself beneath the sheets, he’s been hiding in the bathroom to try and quell his desire as well. You get to your knees before him on the bed and lean your front up against his. "Pheromones," you say with a devious smile.

"Is that what it is? Because it's powerful stuff," John replies dryly, all to aware of his erection and your awareness to his erection.

You tilt your head up so your lips are only a bit away from his jaw. “We’re idiots.”

John laughs, “Yes, we are.” He rakes his fingers through your hair, cradling your head in his hands. “But are you sure? I don’t want to hurt – “

“Just take good care,” you say and hang your hands on his wrists. “I just need you to take care of me.”

You knew that’s what he wanted to hear. A soft breath escapes him as his glassy blue eyes take in each of your features, one by one, before kissing you. The desire hefts forward again inside your aching middle, scattering the tension down the front of your thighs. Just the thought of him being inside is a relief in and of itself. You clutch at the front of his shirt and bring your groin to his. John’s erection is unrelenting and ready for you, but there are new strictures now. You pull back from him to his dismay, a dazed look in his eye from the pressure between your throbbing centers. “You’ll need to get a towel, love,” you instruct him gingerly.

“Mhm, right, right,” John agrees and flits away from you quickly to the bathroom, retrieving a light green towel. You regret the pastel scheme you chose for the bathroom linens now, but there isn’t time to lament that.

John unrolls the towel at the end of the bed. He pulls on the corners and smooths out any wrinkles in the towel and then looks to you eagerly. “Can I do anything else?”

You smile sweetly. He’s nervous, a combination of wanting to do things properly for you and the unflinching arousal that’s now built up in him. You crawl to the end of the bed before him and lift your arms. “You can take this off of me.”

“I can do that,” he grins, sliding the flowery fabric of your housedress up your thighs, to your waist, and up over your head. He drops it to the side of the bed and then brings his eyes to your nearly naked body. You’re suddenly feeling self-conscious, remembering how different you see yourself in the mirror this time of the month. But John’s admiring you in the same way he always does, a small crinkle between his brows and lips parted so slightly, like there are a million things he could say and he can’t pick out just one. He lets out a longing sigh, “You're positively, incredibly sure?”

“Stop asking me that and take off your clothes,” you laugh and lunge for his shirt. The two of you feverishly negotiate his clothes off, hands knocking together, hair falling in your eyes. Finally, he’s naked; his pale skin blemishes with chill and his ruby nipples harden. You caress his lips gingerly. “You are so good to me, John,” you whisper and run your hand up from his hip bone to his ribs to his clavicle. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

John doesn’t respond with words. He takes your head in his hands and hungrily kisses you with his blushed and beautiful lips. Wilting, you follow his lead, slow, graceful, until you’re on your back and John is eagerly thrumming against your entrance. His hands glom onto your breasts; he drags them down your front to your waist to the top of your underwear. He pauses. “I’ve never done this.”

You look at him incredulously. “Yes you have.”

“Not with extenuating circumstances such as these,” he mutters.

“Extenuating circumstances? What do you expect is going to happen?” you laugh. “Barbarism?”

John blushes. He’s a good man, but there are things that good men don’t go out of their way to understand until they must. “Look, I just don’t want to make a mess.”

“Let me do it then,” you offer and try to pry his hand off your underwear.

But John stands firm. “No, no, I should do it. I need to know how to do it.”

“You don’t need to know, it’s –”

“You’re making me nervous, Y/N,” John says manically, his smile betrayed by his jumpy eyes.

You throw your arms up over your head and sigh, “John, just do it, I want you inside me now.”

John’s going red. “You’re just adding to the pressure, god –“

“My eyes are closed. I’m not looking,” you laugh and scrunch your eyes closed. “Christ, you’d think you’re a virgin the way you’re trembling.”

John huffs with slight umbrage at the comment. You feel him dragging the panties down your legs. “Okay. I think I did it.”

You blink your eyes open and find him fixated on your sanguine center.

“Huh.”

“What did you expect?”

“Don’t know really. Is it – I can’t believe I’ve never seen you like this. You get one every month after all.”

You consider John's contrast a moment. His brow is threaded together and his eyes are curiously examining you, yet his cock is firm and angrily swollen as it waits to be enveloped. And you feel just as frustrated as his lower, eager parts. You wrap your legs around him and give him a gentle pull toward you. “John, you’re going to make me feel so good.”

“Really, because this is –“ his eyes widen a bit, still on your center. “I mean, barbarism, you were right.”

“John!” you whine.

“Every month, hm? Dear god, now I understand so much. Thank you for the englightenme…” he can’t finish his sentence as you lift your hips up to meet the tip of his cock and it rushes through your dripping core. John doubles over slightly. “Okay, okay.”

You drop your hips. “I’m in need, John. Need.”

“Need,” he repeats, shaken back onto task. John rests his hand on your knees and positions himself at your entrance, ready. He doesn’t expect how easily he slides in, gasps when he’s entirely inside you without even trying. “Oh my god.”

You smile at the relief of fullness and let out a moan. “There. Was that so bad?”

John shakes his head, mouth agape as he watches his small undulation in and out of you. “Is that alright?”

“Can go faster if you want,” you reassure him, resting your hand on his.

He follows your instruction; your extra slickness gives him an ease of speed that he isn’t totally in control of. You relish the wet sounds as his pelvis meets yours again and again and again. You feel like you’re soaring. It’s an easier feeling than ever before, the gentleness that your body is granting you with release. A joy, a true euphoria of letting go. Tensions slip away through your fingertips as you let John take control.

“Your eyes are…”

Rolling into the back of your head. Your tits bounce with each pulse inside of you.

“God, you look amazing.”

“Keep going.”

John takes your legs and positions them onto his shoulders. He pauses to catch his breath, eyes not leaving yours. He leans a kiss into the inside of your ankle and his hands slide down the length of your legs to your soft backside; he caresses it gently. “You alright?”

“More than.”

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs, a thrusting pattern returning. “Oh, Christ.”

Your angry garbled center has dissipated into fluttering exhilaration. You realize now that on the bathroom floor, this was the kind of death you were begging for and you start to laugh. The oncoming release creeps over you, heat all the way into your cheeks, fixing to burst. You reach as best you can to hook your hands around his thighs and moan out his name. You can see how it singes down his spine, electricity, hearing his name raggedly shunting from your mouth. His eyes squeeze shut, and he bares his teeth, tucking his chin to his chest. Oh, he’s close.

“Whatever you want, do it,” you say; your stomach muscles start to shudder. “Whatever you need.”

John’s eyes shoot open, and he stops, only long enough to sling both your legs over his right shoulder. You’re tighter now than before, gripping onto him, and this tightness sends both of you reeling into a groan. Your name, his name, god’s name, a curse, a prayer, it’s all right there in the way you’re convening at this sacred time in your cycle.

It’s the way John’s fingers curl around your thighs, clenching you even tighter around him, that joins you together into a shared, heaving and thunderous orgasm. John’s eyes go wide; his hips spasm forward as he spills into you, the groan of a fresh bruise from his lips. And you gladly accept each errant drop with your tight, wet warmth. You whimper with the angelic release.

John watches you, unwound and unburdened, so opposite how you’ve stalked around the house since you awoke this morning, and puts a gentle hand where the two of you meet. His thumb brushes through your sweated pubic hair. “Did that feel good, darling?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Did it help?”

You nod harder with a loopy sort of grin.

John chuckles. “Why have we waited so long? For this?”

“Because you’re scared of me,” you drone softly, your eyes shuttering to rest in the glow.

“What?! I’m not scared of you.”

You smile. “Yes, you are. ‘Oh, oh, what do I do with your panties? Am I going to hurt you? Are you s-s-sure?’”

“That’s not ‘scared’, that’s –“

You interrupt him. “I’m not fragile or delicate this time of month, John. I just need extra love even when I don’t deserve it.”

John goes silent and cocks his head against your feet. “Well, you’re always deserving of love.”

You flush and hide your face in the sheets. “You know what I mean.”

“You can be difficult," he concedes.

“That’s a kind way of putting it.”

“Downright mental, sometimes.”

You snap up to sitting and nudge at his cheek with your toes. “Would you like to remain celibate indefinitely?”

John laughs, “You’re proving my point!”

The two of you jab and rib a bit longer before John collapses beside you and pulls you into him entirely, his lips hovering right in the crook of your neck. "Even when you're driving me mad, I love you, darling."

You sigh contentedly and let him languish on your neck with soft, chaste kisses before you are both reminded that the time is ticking and the afternoon will be the evening in the blink of an eye if you aren't careful.

After you disentangle, you help clean John off; he watches, intrigued by the rusting redness that sheathes him (“Welcome to the barbarism,” you tease). Then, you leap up off the bed with a stretch. “Well, I feel much, much better.”

“Yeah?” John says with an adoring look in his eyes.

“Oh, yes, I could do the shopping even,” you shrug and find his pants on the floor, pulling the list from his pocket. “Let you take a rest.”

John sits nakedly, casually on the towel with an ironic sigh, “Thank you.”

You go to him and cup his chin in your hand. “I owe you the world, John, I really do.” You kiss his forehead and then begin to flit around the room to pull an outfit together.

John sits, lost in thought and quiet, as you rummage through the dresser drawers for another pair of clean and comfortable underwear.

“Y/N?”

You give him a look over your shoulder. “Yes?”

“What if we cancelled dinner tonight?”

You frown, “But I’m feeling much better.”

“I know, I know, I just wonder if that energy could be used…” John trails off and then clears his throat. His looks to his feet. “For different matters.”

You pause and a smile cracks onto your face despite yourself. “Are you suggesting –“

“I told you,” he sighs. His eyes laze onto you with a hungry, lip-biting smirk. “You’re making me feel wild.”

tag list: @jimmys-zeppelin, @princesspagey, @kari-12-10, @grxtsch, @edal-weis, @ritacaroline, @salixfragilis, @rogerfuckintaylor, @kyunisixx

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star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 4 years ago

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5 minutes with Loki

You were laying on the bottom of your bathtub in nothing but a bra and panties, dripping in sweat. The shower was on the misty waterfall setting and the cool water wasn’t working fast enough to cool you off. This heatwave was too much, and you honestly felt like you might die. You had heat rash, a sunburn and despite downing over a gallon of water, you were dehydrated.

You heard the door of your suite open and wanted to jump up and yell at whoever what there to go away. The energy you would need to expend to deal with people would only make you hotter and more miserable. You never should have turned down the offer to live on the tower when Tony had offered. The three story walk up in Bed-Stuy was just too cute, you’d thought. Old, and filled with character. And absolutely no air conditioning.

You heard your name being called and grunted out a response. Quiet footfalls drew closer and the bathroom door swung open. You opened an eye, shielding it from the water falling on you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, taking in the tall, slim form at the edge of your tub. Loki shook his head.

“Barton directed me to collect you from here before you perished from the heat. It is far too dangerous for you to remain in this domicile during this weather,” he replied, leaning over to turn off the shower faucet. You moaned in protest.

“I was enjoying that.”

“I’m sure you will enjoy the air conditioned splendours of Stark Tower immensely as well. There is a lovely swimming pool I have been availing myself of. And climate controlled temperatures that are more suited to human needs,” he replied. He bent further and offered his hand to you.

Begrudgingly, you rolled to your back and took it, allowing him to help you stand. He handed you a towel and tutted when you rubbed it through your hair but left the bathroom dripping water on the hardwood of your hallway. You pulled the small go-bag you always kept packed from the hall closet and pushed past him to your room, grabbing the first thing you saw to wear. A simple sundress in emerald green. You tossed your wet undergarments on the laundry pile and pulled the dress over your nude form, not caring about modesty.

Loki looked at you with one eyebrow arched, obviously surprised by the move.

“It’s hot,” you said, your voice defensive. “Besides, I’m sure you’ve seen naked women before.”

“I have,” he nodded. “Humans tend to be much more bashful about their natural form.”

“It’s too hot for modesty,” you retorted. As you walked back to the front of your apartment, you slipped in a puddle of water and fell into Loki. He reached up and caught you as to crashed into his chest. He was pleasantly cool. “How are you not sweating to death?”

He was wearing trousers and a dress shirt, of all things. You couldn’t actually imagine him in shorts and a t-shirt, but you’d expected him to at least be suffering for his fashion. Instead he was at such a perfect temperature that you wanted to wrap yourself around him to stay cold.

“I’m a frost giant,” he acknowledged, a slight shrug to his shoulders. “I naturally run colder than Aesir. And humans, for that matter.”

“Well pardon me for being so forward, but I’ll be bunking with you tonight.” You forced yourself to let go of him to pick up your bag, and headed toward the door. “Do you have a cab or an Uber waiting for us?”

Loki was standing where you’d left him, a look of startled amusement on his face. He shook his head, just slightly, and flashed you a small grin before striding toward the door.

“Be careful what you ask for, darling,” he warned. “Strange bedfellows make for stranger experiences.”

You flashed what you thought was the same wry grin back at him, and winked. “Oh, I count in it.”

XxX

Sorry… I couldn’t resist the lure of toying with Loki. It’s so fucking hot here the idea of falling into bed with someone who is naturally cool was just too enticing.

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adsosfraser · 4 years ago

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The Stone’s Toll - Chapter Seven

Read on AO3

There was a light dusting of snow on the hill when she woke. The moisture clung to her back, soaking through her top layer and making her shiver. She remembered the warm knit shawls, hand warmers, and the fur-lined coat that Mrs. Fitz had supplied for her journey with the rent party and sighed. Even though it had been summer, it was practical for the unpredictable weather of the unforgiving highlands. And now it was winter. What she would give to feel that warmth now.

Midway through her journey, she stopped to have a bite to eat. She savoured the final meal Mrs. Graham had slipped into her bag. Shepherds pie tucked expertly into a small container wrapped in newspaper. Apparently, Roger helped prepare the snickerdoodles with the matron last night, but she wasn’t sure just how much help he really had been. His face was covered in the dough and mysteriously five cookies had disappeared from the tray. She smiled and dug in.

It had taken her all day to reach Inverness on foot, and she was dead on her feet. Night was almost upon the bustling market, and she would have to make some trades quickly. But the first man looked at her distastefully as soon as she opened her mouth. The next reacted similarly and raised the price of a simple apple nearly five hundred times its original price. Such was the price of her existence. But God dammit, she went to war for Scotland, placed bones back into place and sewed up the broken men shot from cannon fire and muskets, risked everything and lost everything, and they still couldn’t move past the nationality she was born into. She tried not to take it too personally, none of them knew who she was, the Stuart Witch, wife of Red Jamie. Many of their families had been killed and starved after Culloden, their culture was subsequently lost, and in walks one Sassenach requesting hospitality from her ‘enemy’. They were allowed to be furious.

She haggled over a meagre piece of bread, meat, and a small room which was more closet than room, until finally the innkeeper accepted her payment of four silver coins. She grabbed a pouch from within her cloak and produced the coins. The innkeeper was shocked at the abundance of wealth inside of it and cursed himself for already sealing the deal. The rest of the more valuable gold, silver, and jewels were safely sewn into the many yards of wool in her skirts and cloak. Mrs. Graham thought it was a brilliant idea to hide such valuables in more than one spot, and the clothes on her back were a good start.

Claire stretched out on the stiff straw mattress and groaned. She paced the short distance of the room and placed the large leather bag onto the sheets. Claire dumped out the letters from the slim wooden box inside the leather bag onto the bed. She smoothed them out before her so she could take in every one. The last brief conversation between her and Frank was him instructing her in how to deliver these properly, without them, she may very well place Lallybroch in danger with her presence alone. He had given her three letters to send through the post. She gasped at the official seal on one of them, intended to mimic the King of France’s impression. It was a perfect counterfeit. She could peek inside one of them, the page was not folded too tightly within itself. She recognised the signature and seal all too well from her days in Paris and on the battlefields of Scotland. “I have discovered a most heinous plot against me. A betrayal by one of my closest advisor’s. Captain Fraser himself…”. The last one was a mystery to her. She didn’t recognise the seal and there was no writing on the outside of the letter. How had Frank managed it all? She wordlessly handed the letters to be sent through the post, afraid her accent would enrage the postman. Perhaps it was better to be mute than English. He assured her with her generous donation to him, the letters would be delivered immediately. He patted them through the fabric of his breast pocket and took off swiftly on his horse.

Claire was impatiently waiting at the stables, hoping to purchase a horse. There were four to select from, but the man in front of her insisted only the geriatric mule was for sale. A balding man flashed a smile to the stablehand and offered a greeting. He passed five pounds Sterling for one of the stronger steeds and left with a cheerful goodbye.

“Come again tomorrow lass, when yer willing tae properly negotiate. I’m sae sorry but these are lean years ye ken.”

Claire knew the price of ten pounds Sterling for the ancient mule was hiked up impossibly high. She briefly thought of pretending to mimic the Scots’ accents, subduing her own but her presence had already been made known in the village. Not much went unnoticed in such a small community, especially a strange Sassenach travelling all by herself whose clothes were slightly off but none could pinpoint the exact reason why.

She was a Sassenach here. Not my Sassenach. It was most certainly not a good thing.

Tongues wagged excitedly to gossip about her in Gàidhlig and none of them made any effort to hide their chatter. And she heard the baker in conversation, crossing himself at the mention of another sweep of smallpox through the village. Claire’s heart stopped. Had it reached Lallybroch? It was the dead of winter of course, the greatest time for such an outbreak.

At night, she bolted the door and added a wooden chair under the handle for extra security. The windows were sealed shut, but she still shivered under the chill of winter. More than one man knocked on her door that night, no doubt one of the ones who had leered at her downstairs in the tavern. She imagined a pair of strong arms holding her close, cursing at the men and enacting vengeance.

The next morning, she returned to the stables again. He had budged to eight pounds Sterling. Still expensive for a creature in such a state, she relented and took the mule off his hands. She was over waiting. She had done months of it. All that mattered was her family, the money was of little consequence.

The mule trotted at a leisurely pace through the hills and valleys of the highlands. She was grateful no more snow had fallen yet to impede her journey. The steady weight of the coins in her pockets and dress clanged against her at each stride of the mule’s legs. There was worse company than a reserved old mule named Clarence. At least she didn't feel the need to fill the silence with her voice.

Claire stood on top of Clarence at the entrance of Lallybroch, unsure if she should take another step through the gate. The dogs yipped at the mule’s feet and startled the poor creature. There was one amongst the bunch of fur that she didn’t recognise: a new puppy. No one was out in the courtyard, bustling around laundry tubs, skinning animals, or just generally causing mischief. She suddenly worried that she hadn’t even travelled to the past at all and her heart raced in her chest. Were they here? Was any of this even real in the first place? Maybe she was still on her cot at the ward. And the worst thought of all, were they dead? Was she too late in trusting her gut instinct?

Her heart calmed at the sight of a brown mop of curls peeking out the sturdy oak door in the front doorway.

#claire beauchamp #jamie x claire #adsofraser writing #canon divergence #craigh na dun #fergus fraser #frank randall #outlander fanfiction #inverness #lallybroch #claire fraser #jamie fraser #outlander fanfic

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send-allmyloving · 5 years ago

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Trigger Warning: depression, suicidal ideation, mentions of drugs/scars from s*lf-h*rm

[8:42 PM]

Depression has dragged you under its waves for the 5th time this week. You’ve been feeling like trash the entire month, ever since getting out of the hospital. Your boyfriend, Rei, has been supportive the entire time, even taking off a week from school to care for you after your discharge. You were supposed to feel better about that.

Instead it made you feel worse. Like you were a burden.

And you still feel like one. So you’ve decided not to tell Rei about your situation at the moment, and every time he calls you to check in while he’s away for the day at Yumenosaki, you push down your sadness and fake joy in your voice, thinking he’ll be gullible enough to believe it.

He doesn’t, but you still try regardless.

You’ve been doing that for the entire week, seeing how far you can pull off such a huge lie. You know you’ll break eventually, but you can’t let yourself drag him down under the waves with you.

It’s getting hard to breathe. There’s an imaginary weight on your chest, and it’s pressing down even further onto you as you lie there on your bed, staring up at the ceiling with bloodshot eyes, your face wet from the tears you shed earlier.

You haven’t showered. You’ve been able to pull off looking decent with some dry shampoo and some deodorant, but you’ve not been able to get yourself to bathe for days. And you can’t bear the thought of having Rei help you take a bath, like you’re some sort of baby. You’re not.

And yet... you just wish that you could be cared for like that right now.

Your hair is a tangled, matted mess. Your skin feels cold and dry, and icky. You feel so...

Tired.

You just want to black out, slip away from reality, even if it’s just for a little bit, so you don’t have to feel like complete utter shit. Oh, what you’d give to take a few sedatives so you could relieve yourself from your suffering.

But alas, the pills are locked away, and so are the sharps. You can’t do anything, and so you’re left to lay on your bed in an old shirt and PJs, and feel like a fucking mess.

Your hear the front door click and creak open softly. Your boyfriend came back from classes particularly early today.

Shit. What do I do? I can’t look this fucking weak. Not in front of him. Not after all he’s been doing for me. That’s just pathetic.

You sit up, doing your best to smooth down your hair and rub the grime from your face. You stretch out the crooks in your back and neck, and then you practice your smile.

No, not like that, that feels really fake.

Nope, too tight, he’s not gonna buy it.

God, that feels even more pathetic. Come on, (Name), you’ve done this before. Why can’t you do it now?

You drag your palms over your face, sighing exasperatedly. There’s no way you can pull it off. Not with how you’re looking right now.

“(Name)?” you hear his familiar, deep voice call out to you softly, the padding of his feet growing louder as he makes his way to the bedroom.

Rei peeks in, crimson eyes searching through the darkness and finally landing on your figure sitting up in bed, your face still buried in your hands.

“(Name)...” he calls out again, even softer than the last, making his way over to you. You slowly raise your face from your hands, looking up to see him in front of you, kneeling in front of you at your bedside. He always looks so handsome; a pale face, slim nose, and blood red eyes, all framed by long, wavy raven locks of hair. Guilt wells up in your heart as you see his eyes darken with sadness as he looks on at you, lifting a hand to caress your cheek.

“C’mere,” he mutters, taking your hands to guide you up to your feet. You stumble a little, feeling your head spin; you haven’t eaten all day, and your body was completely weakened.

Rei puts a firm hand on your waist to steady you, helping you walk to the bathroom. He readies your toothbrush, handing it to you so that you can clean your teeth. You slowly but surely start to brush your teeth, Rei gently rubbing your back and shoulders in the process.

“Good job baby, I’m so proud of you...” he murmurs, kissing your head once you finish. He places a hand on your back, guiding you to the bathtub.

The tub starts to fill with water, and you stand before him as he carefully undresses you. It isn’t sexual; his hands are gentle, ever so slightly brushing your skin as he rids each old garment and throws it into the laundry basket. He’s caring, placing kisses to your cheek, your stomach, your knee; any patch of skin revealed as each piece of clothing is taken off is granted with a brush of his lips, especially the parts of skin marred with old scars from your past reckless coping methods; his way of telling you how much he loves you, even with the darkest, ugliest parts of you.

It’s quiet. Your bottom lip quivers; you take a shaky breath, trying not to let your emotions break down the floodgates with how overwhelmingly kind and loving he’s being towards you. Rei turns off the tap, and places you into the tub. The water is warm, and you wait, silently appreciating the sensation of the waves of water gently lapping at your skin as Rei rolls up the ankles of his pants before sitting at the edge of the tub facing you.

He rolls up his sleeves and takes the bottle of shampoo resting in the corner. He works at your hair first, wetting your hair before lathering the shampoo onto your head, gentle fingers massaging your scalp and running soothingly between your strands.

Then comes the conditioner. He works through your locks the same way, and you close your eyes, starting to relax under his touch. Rei chuckles softly, seeing your expression. He rinses off the conditioner, and reaches for the loofa and body wash.

This is when you start to come apart. He’s even lighter with his touch this time, making sure not to scrub too hard, slowly spreading the suds across your skin as he rubs your arms and chest, gently lifting your knees to work the loofa across your legs.

Why is he being so careful? Why does he think I even deserve this?

You feel the tears prick your eyes, and your throat starts to tighten. You press your lips together, inhaling sharply.

No, I can’t cry right now. Not when he’s already taking care of me like this... I’ll just look like a fucking baby.

But that doesn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. Not when Rei’s being so sweet with how his fingers run across your body as he rinses off the soap, caressing every part of your skin with the utmost affection and care. Your breathing becomes shaky again, and you hug your chest, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Hey.” You open your eyes to his deep and gentle voice calling out to you, seeing Rei lean in and brush a damp thumb across your cheeks, wiping away the tears that spilled before planting a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he breathes, moving his hands down to rub your arms. “It’s gonna be okay.”

And that’s when you break.

The first sob slips past your lips, followed by a hiccup. And then another sob. And another.

You squeeze your eyes back shut, not being able to take in how he looks at you. One hand moves soothingly across your bare back, while the other slips under the water to take your hand. You cry, your body trembling, collapsing in on itself as you convulse from the sobs. He hushes you lovingly, slowly running his hands along your torso while he kisses the tears away.

Your sobs eventually fade, the warmth of the water and his touch soothing away your tremors. He pulls back calmly, reaching over to pull the drain.

You look up at him, and feel your heart tear at seeing the pain in his expression, how much he’s suffering to see you in such a state of misery.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, looking down at the sudsy water, tracing your hand over the bubbles, trying to distract yourself from the pang of guilt in your chest.

He places a finger on your chin, tilting it up and guiding you to look back into his crimson eyes.

He smiles softly at you. It’s a smile full of comfort. He knows what you’re going through. He knows it’s nothing you should be sorry for.

And he wants you to know it too.

“It’s not your fault, baby,” he reassures you gently, running his fingers through your hair once again. “It never is, okay?”

He caresses your cheek, and you close your eyes as his lips meet yours briefly. You nod in understanding, and he beams. “よしよし*,” he murmurs, patting your cheek.

Rei helps you out of the tub before getting the fluffiest, cleanest towel from the linen closet. He rubs it over your body, making sure every inch of you is clean and dry, before moving up to your hair. He tousles it, getting out as much of the water as he can, and occasionally lifting the hem of the towel to plant a kiss on your nose with a grin, and his heart leaps when he sees your lips spread into a little smile. He feels like he succeeded, even if by little bit, in making you feel better despite your mental state.

Wrapping the towel around you, he turns you around to face the mirror and reaches over to the counter to pick up a brush and the hair dryer. You look down, not being able to take in the sight of yourself, even after being cleaned so thoroughly.

Placing a chaste kiss to your neck, Rei turns the dryer onto the lowest setting, slowly combing through the remaining tangles as he dries out the leftover dampness. He’s mindful, as always, being as gentle as possible so as not to hurt you.

He finishes, smoothing down your hair and placing a kiss to your cheek, lifting up your chin so that you make eye contact with him through the mirror. “Beautiful,” he mutters, hands trailing down to your sides.

Your cheeks burn, and you look away from him, too flustered by his loving gestures to find the words to respond to him. But you don’t have to, because he’s already busying himself with getting ready for the next task: dressing you.

Rei wraps his arms around you and picks you up bridal style, carrying you back to the room and sitting you onto the foot of the bed.

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” he whispers, planting a kiss to your cheek before leaving the room to get some clothes for you.

He returns only after a moment, hands full with clothing that he lays down on the bed before kneeling down in front of you and unwrapping the towel from your body, placing it on the side. First come the undergarments, fresh out of the dryer. He slips them onto you tenderly, fingers lingering near the skin of your waist before moving them away, clearing his throat, his cheeks tinged pink as he picks up a shirt for you to wear. You blush as well, fidgeting with your fingers as your mind races with ideas of what he was thinking about just then.

“Arms up,” he directs you. His voice is mellow, like an ocean breeze, and it makes you feel calmer. You barely even remember the episode you had earlier today. You obediently lift your arms, and he slips a shirt over you. It’s one of his, soft and oversized, just slightly falling off the shoulder. It smells like his lavender cologne, and the warmth of the cotton contrasts vastly against your cool skin. You feel comfortable and... safe.

Next comes your favorite pair of lounge pants. He guides you to stand up, his large hands settling on your hips, steadying your movements. He slides them up your legs until they settle around your waist. He’s precise, adjusting the hems of the pants so that you have the utmost comfort.

God. Why does he have to be so gentle?

And finally, your comfiest pair of socks. It’s cold outside, and you’ve felt frigid all day without your boyfriend by your side. He puts them carefully onto your feet, like he’s Prince Charming fitting you into a glass slipper; of course, it’s not as extravagant, but it’s just as intimate.

He leaves once again only to put the towel back on the drying rack, and is back in an instant, arms wrapped around your waist pulling you close to his chest. His hand cradles the back of your neck, massaging it, as you rest your forehead on his shoulder. His hand moves down to rub your back as he gently sways you in his embrace, kissing the top of your head.

He walks you backward slowly, so that you lie back onto the sheets. He crawls on top of you, arms on either side of your body. One hand slides up to meet with your hand, intertwining your fingers together. His long waves of hair hang loosely from around his face as he stares into your eyes lovingly, a warm smile playing onto his lips before he dips down to kiss you.

The first kiss is slow, soft, gentle. Each kiss after that is even more so than the previous, and each one is equally wholehearted, full of pure love and care. He’s patient with you, taking his time as he moves his lips against yours, drawing back only for a moment or so in between kisses to admire your serene expression. You’re relaxing into his touch, letting yourself be vulnerable only for him, because you know deep in your heart, that Rei Sakuma, the man you love, would never so much think of ever hurting you.

And he knows you trust him that much. He loves you with all his heart, and he’s vowed to himself that he would never let anyone, not even himself, lay a finger of harm on you.

Ever.

He trails kisses down your jaw to your neck, chuckling quietly against your skin as he hears you sigh in content.

“Did that feel nice?” he whispers, lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, his deep voice making your heart do somersaults in your chest.

You hum in confirmation, and Rei continues moving his lips across your neck before pulling away to place kisses onto your cheeks and nose. He snakes his free arm around your waist, rolling over so that you’re on top of him. He untangles his fingers from yours to stroke your hair, placing a kiss to your forehead as he slowly massages your scalp, smiling at how you close your eyes and lean into his touch. His other arm is wrapped around your waist protectively, occasionally slipping his hand under your shirt to run his fingers over your skin.

“Feel any better?” he asks you softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he continues to play with your locks.

You nod, moving to rest your forehead against his as you give him a tiny smile. “Much better,” you mumble, pressing another short kiss to his lips. “Thank you Rei. I love you.”

He beams, kissing your jaw before whispering back, “I love you too. More than you can imagine.”

You both lay there in silence for a couple minutes before Rei speaks once more, his voice ever so calm as he strokes your head.

“I bet you’re hungry. You haven’t eaten all day, have you?” he asks, concern flooding his face as he looks you over, soft fingers gliding across your cheek.

You freeze up at the question, swallowing nervously, guilt written across your face as you avoid his crimson eyes gazing upon you, your chest tightening in fear of the scolding he might give you.

“Eyes up here baby,” he murmurs, putting a hand on your cheek and coaxing you to look back at him. There’s no frustration in his expression. His voice hasn’t risen; in place of all the malice you were expecting, all you could see was the worry in his eyes being amplified.

And somehow that was much worse.

“I’m not mad at you, my love,” he soothes, stroking your cheek lovingly before kissing your nose. “I’m just so worried about you. You mean the world to me, you know...” he whispers, before slowly guiding you both up to sit. “Can I make you something, hm? Anything you want. I can even order out if that’s what you want right now,” he offers you, his voice wrapped in a blanket of kindness as he speaks to you, cupping your face affectionately as he gives you the gentlest of smiles.

You hesitate to answer, looking anywhere but his face. You really couldn’t fathom asking him for anything else after all he did for you in the past half hour or so. It would be way too much to ask for.

Your boyfriend senses your worry, moving his hands away from your face to take your hands into his before taking a deep breath to speak.

“(Name), sweetheart... nothing you ask for is ever a burden to me. You’re not a burden to me. You never have been, and you never will be. Okay? I will take care of you no matter what. I love you, my dear.”

His sweet words melt your heart. He says each phrase slowly and surely, and as he finishes you feel tears prick your eyes again, watching him bring your hands up to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto the back of each palm.

He sees a tear leak from the corner of one of your eyes, and he reaches forward slowly, brushing it away with the lightest touch.

“Now then, my love,” he says, fixing a strand of your hair absentmindedly as he speaks, “Anything on your mind for what you want to eat?”

You take a deep breath, before mustering up a small smile as you look back up at him. “Surprise me,” you say, poking his nose playfully.

Rei grins, ruffling your hair as he stands up, taking your hand to lead you to the kitchen. He sits you onto a chair at the kitchen table, flashing you a smirk before walking away to collect the ingredients for the dinner.

As he starts to cook, he makes conversation with you to fight off the thoughts that threaten to plague your mind again; he just knows that you need it, so he doesn’t ask questions, just speaks. He talks about anything, from the chaos that Koga caused throughout the day, to how cute his “darling children”, the Ra*bits and 2wink, were behaving. He asks you about the latest serials you’ve been watching, and you tell him about the plot as he listens earnestly, throwing in the occasional commentary to show that he’s listening though his attention is focused on cooking. It’s the mundane things like this, these little conversations, the delicious scent of spices and herbs in the air as you watch him stir and simmer the ingredients together, that make even your worst days the slightest bit more bearable.

A few moments later, he’s sitting next to you, blowing a little on the hot fried rice that he prepared before guiding the spoonful towards your mouth. You eat, humming in satisfaction at the taste. Rei chuckles, placing a kiss to the crown of your head. “That’s my baby. I’m so proud of you,” he says, smiling brightly at you as he continues to feed you.

You continue to chew your food, your confused, lost eyes meeting with his ruby red ones as you silently ask him: why? Why would he be proud of you? You didn’t do much today.

He reads your expression easily, and he puts the spoon down, taking your hand once again, his gaze morphing into a more serious one. “Because even when you were being weighed down completely, you worked with me to get you cleaned up. You didn’t try too hard to mask your emotions. And look at you! You’re eating your food, you didn’t even say no when I told you that you should eat something,” he says ecstatically, grinning proudly at you as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “I know that even the smallest tasks can be incredibly hard for you to do when you’re like this, and I’m never mad when you can’t do them... but I’m just so proud to see that you’re trying. I love you so much, (Name). I’m so proud of you.”

You swallow your food slowly, eyes widening as you hear his voice break and see his eyes well up with tears. “Rei...” you whisper, reaching out to gently touch his face.

“Ah... sorry, I’m okay. I just got emotional is all,” he mutters, laughing quietly as he wipes at his eyes. “I just... I want you to be okay, (Name). And I won’t stop at anything to see you get that spark back in you again,” he murmurs, cupping your face in his palms as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Rei... I love you so much. Thank you. For everything. You’ve supported me through so much and I... I don’t know what to say...” you whisper back, breath catching in your throat, fingers curling through his wavy black locks as he litters your face with soft kisses.

“I’m just so glad you’re with me, Rei. But I don’t know how I can make it up to you for all you’ve done for me...” you breathe, feeling the anxiety rise up in your body, your mind starting to cloud with the stupid thought: you’re a burden to everyone.

“I don’t want you to do anything for me,” he says soothingly, taking a hand off your cheek to rub your arm. “All I want is for you to stay with me. I want you to stay alive for me. That’s all I want. You can do that, yeah?” he asks, lips brushing softly against your eyelid, your eyes fluttering shut at the touch.

You’re hesitant, biting at your lip, before he plants a short kiss to your lips, drawing your attention back to him.

“I promise. That’s all I want.”

You breathe a sigh, leaning into his touch as he caresses your cheek. Silently, you nod.

“That’s a good darling. I love you,” he says softly with a smile, pulling his hand back so that he can continue to feed you.

You finish your dinner, and find yourself wrapped in blankets, sitting on the sofa. You’re holding your favorite stuffed animal and watching TV, greeting Ritsu as he enters through the front door, coming back late from his practice. Rei greets him enthusiastically, the younger one waving him off as he sits down at the table to have his fill of food. The environment is calm, and Ritsu comes around to lie down on your lap after having finished his dinner and getting ready for bed. He quietly asks if you’re doing okay, and you gently reassure him that you’re feeling better than earlier, thanks to his big brother. He yawns, making some rather amusing comment about how Rei must have been a bother with all his nagging, and you let out a breathy laugh, patting his head.

It’s finally time to sleep. Rei carefully guides a fast asleep Ritsu to lie down properly on the couch, tucking him in with more blankets before picking up your exhausted figure and carrying you to the bedroom. Rei holds you close under the blankets, absentmindedly stroking your hair while his free arm is thrown around your waist, occasionally leaning down to give you a lazy kiss on the lips.

“Rei?” you quietly call him, tugging lightly at the fabric of his shirt.

“Yeah? What is it baby?” he responds, voice deeper and raspy with sleep.

“Thank you... again. I love you.”

He smiles, crimson eyes glowing faintly with adoration in the darkened room as he gazes at you.

“You don’t need to thank me, angel. I love you too. So much...” he sighs, pulling you closer, resting his chin atop your head.

You slowly start drift off, safe and sound in his warm embrace, the scent of lavender and mint calming your mind, his presence shielding you from the impending doom of your nightmares and upsetting thoughts.

“Rest, my beloved,” he murmurs.

“I’m here.”

* Author's note: よしよし - gender neutral way of praising a child or lover, very much like "good boy/good girl" (please correct me if I'm wrong, this is just from what I know, my Japanese is very limited)

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domenicbathroomware · 1 month ago

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Modern design and functionality are combined in the chic #laundry #tubs that Domenic Bathroom Ware offers in New Zealand. These tubs appear sleek and modern. They offer sufficient strength and room for both gentle hand washing and heavy cleaning.

Visit: https://domenic.co.nz/collections/laundry-hub

#laundry tub #laundry tub nz #slim vanity

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trashtheater101 · 5 years ago

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Prompts

Been meaning to make this for a while: Free list of skele-prompts! No credit needed (although I’d love to read it if you make one, maybe drop me a note?), and feel free to change ANY of the details or ships. This list is meant to ✧INSPIRE✧ not restrict.

These are largely old ideas that I realize I’m probably never going to get around to writing myself and thought I’d share. Mostly Papcest, but there’s some left open for Fontcest and Sanscest, and you can always change it up. I probably forgot some, so I’ll add to it as I remember them.

RoyalMoney (Poppy/Cash)

Poppy is a wealthy, and unbearably bored Nigerian prince. Kept safe and sound, a prisoner in the castle by his overprotective brother, Poppy is allowed only limited contact with the guards or servants, and nothing at all with the outside world. When a thief breaks in through his bedroom window (captured easily by the Great Prince Poppy! He’s sheltered, not helpless!), Poppy can't help being intrigued… [His brother can shove it; He’s decided to keep this one.]

Fellcest (Red/Edge)

Red is a scientist. Or at least he used to be. He’s studied the wonders of the universe, tested the limits of time-space, and even broken through the divides between worlds. […none of it compared to learning the way his brother reacts to flirting.]

SpicyHoney (Edge/Stretch(Rus))

Edge is a loyal knight, through and through, and Rus is the true heir to the throne. Edge is determined to protect him no matter the cost. Even now that the kingdom has been overthrown and they were barely able to escape with their lives. Even now that they must keep moving, and live in hiding, lest Rus be captured and executed. Even though Rus is used to being pampered and spoiled, and Edge is the only one left to treat him with the sort of devotion and reverence that a true prince deserves. [Originally a Edge x Anyone, but the pouty, stubborn prince kept morphing into Rus, soooo…]

Edge and Stretch are stuck in a car together for a long trip, and expect to bicker the whole time. Unfortunately 5 minutes in one of them accidentally confesses. Neither are prepared for this, and now the car ride is spent dealing with THIS instead... oh dear…

Stretch needs to get a physical. Cool, no big, even doctors aren’t sure what to do with a pile of bones, so no point in being embarrassed, and—bonus!—most don’t know how skeleton magic works, so he gets to skip the more invasive stuff. Except—wait—this time his doctor is a skeleton? A really hot skeleton?? And since Stretch is missing so much from his chart, he’s getting a THOROUGH exam??? ...great… [Bonus points for Stretch aggressively flirting to hide his nerves, “w-wow doc. i don’t usually spread my legs before the first date, haha. guess you must be special.”]

SpicyBBQ (Edge/Slim)

Edge’s new lamia is a dominant type, strong, and eager to breed him. But Edge isn’t inclined to submit, and he’s pretty sure he knows exactly how to tame his horny pet. [Succeed or fail, both are tasty~.]

MapleBlossom (Slim/Papyrus)

Slim is the lead singer/guitarist/drummer in an up and coming band. Hanging out at an afterparty of one of his shows, some cute little groupie, or a fan, or whatever, catches his attention when they start chatting him up. Slim is charmed, and while he’s got a pretty firm rule about not fucking the fans, he’s gotta make an exception this time. He’s gonna rock this groupies world. [Except that Papyrus isn’t a groupie. Or a fan. He was just invited along by a friend and thought this stranger might want someone to talk to. But boy is he flattered by all the attention! Is this… flirting?!?]

SweetMoney (Sugar(HT!Pap)/Cash)

Taking his first ever train trip to the big city, Sugar ends up sitting next to a stranger. Cash seems friendly enough on the ride, but when they get off he refuses to leave??? He keeps insisting it’s too dangerous for someone like Sugar to be alone in the city, and that all well and good, but Sugar’s pretty sure he has a stalker now??? Blood had warned him about this… oh well… For a stalker, Cash is awfully charming.

Edge x _______

Edge is an Alpha. All the Papyruses are Alphas, so of course he’s an Alpha. He is the most Alpha-y-est Alpha to ever Alpha, thank you very much. And as long as he keeps taking his Alpha-supplements, surely no one will be any the wiser. But the supplements can only repress his instincts so much when he’s surrounded by so many fine, aggressively-dominant Alphas. And let’s be real, how long would it really take a group of Alphas to notice an Omega in their midst? [Easily could be one-on-one, but this prompt is feeling pretty gang-bang-y to me~]

In hindsight I think I may have seen this idea around before (so let me know if it’s already a thing…), but Edge as a Heinz Doofenshmirtz-(Or like MegaMind, Dr. Horrible, fuckin.... Team Rocket??)-style villain! Over the top dramatic! But also pretty ridiculous... But definitely EVIL!!!!! But also is he though??? Red is his henchman. His love interest can be the Hero, but also could be his usual kidnapping victim, or the cute skele from the laundry mat, or I suppose his henchman, or a brand-new unique dynamic!

Loud Top Edge. That’s really all I’ve got for this prompt. It really didn’t have to be under Edge specifically… you could make it anyone, but I was thinking of Edge. ...as just... a… noisy… really verbal top... yeah...~<3

Papyrus x _______

Someone has been stealing apples from Papyrus’s apple orchard, and he is determined to catch the culprit! [Well, it turns out the culprit happens to be very attractive and that is a whole new, very different problem!]

Papyrus x _______/Sans x _______

Undertale is Universe 0. It’s the base, the original, the one every universe is spun off of. As such, there is some sort of general law of attraction pulling all the copies towards their originals. Or at least, that’s Sans’s theory anyway. That would explain all these Sans’s that keep hitting on him and—don’t think i don’t notice the rest of you making passes at my bro-! are you looking for a b a d t i m e ?

Bonus Lamia prompt

[A]’s lamia goes into a submissive heat. No matter what they do, however, [A] can’t seem to satisfy them. A quick google search reveals their lamia is looking to be bred with eggs, but—uh—[A] can’t produce eggs, and neither of them really want kids yet anyways, and—hey, you can buy safe to insert pseudo-eggs!—Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna give you just what you need~

- - - - -

A list of loose themes and thoughts. Poke through and see if anything catches your attention. Or maybe mix some together? (Conveniently numbered for a random number generator!)

1. Bitties

2. Asleep on shoulder

3. Shopping trip

4. Bandaging after sparring

5. Broken down car

6. Attractive salesman

7. Trapped in a box~

8. Good old fashioned temporary amnesia

9. Is that a dog in your jacket?

10. “If you touch him I will END you...!”

11. Crossover

12. Lamias

13. The meal was unrecognizable...You eat it anyways.

14. Classic fairytale, but with a twist!

15. A more obscure fairytale. (With all the ‘wtf??’s they tend to entail.)

16. “Please tell me you meant to do that...”

17. Ectoboobies

18. “God, you’re so hot… You look hot! SWEATY! Do you want a drink!?!?”

19. “F-FLIRTING? SO YOU FINALLY REVEAL YOUR ULTIMATE FEELINGS!?”

20. Borrowed pajamas

21. Candle light

22. BEACH DAY

23. Someone not normally collared: collared~!

24. “Sit down and shut up! ...I’m going to serenade you now.”

25. “What will it take to make you realize I’m no good for you?”

26. Running out of water

27. Physically shielding from harm

28. Can’t stop staring

29. Broke something important

30. He only ever acted like this when he was covered in dust…

31. Well... people always say you should marry a doctor

32. “I think I’m falling for you”

33. “Guess you fell for me~”

34. A bad vacation

35. Missing the bus

36. A WAY too fancy restaurant

37. Good morning kiss

38. That’s probably a serial killer chasing you tbh.

39. Lost & alone…

40. Annoying Dog is secretly a matchmaker

41. A goodbye note

42. Freezing cold

43. A slow dance after the lights go down

44. Exploring

45. Hey! You’re that actor/singer/etc I like-! Why are you grinding on me!?!?

46. “I failed you…”

47. A non-traditional Heat symptom

48. Soul-bonding: the aftermath.

49. 2 dudes sittin in a hot tub, 5 ft apart cause they’re very gay and sorta nervous and-gosh-it sure is hot in this hot tub…

50. Flowey: “Okay, look. I don’t normally give advice but…”

#Fontcest #Papcest #Sanscest #Prompts

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jazararose · 5 years ago

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Ghosted

One-shot based around the song Ghostin’ by Ariana Grande. I really love that song. Very beautiful, very sad. This fic is also sad, has character death and mention of drug use.

"Inuyasha!" It was the splash heard around the world. The dark haired girl came up from the pool stuttering and slapping her hair out of her face. She wanted to pout and be angry, but then she saw his face. Cheeks wide and tinted pink, his arms hugging his middle tightly. His laugh was contagious as the people around began to join in on his glee.

Though his smile was brilliant, it was really his eyes. How could she stay mad when his were lit from the inside out with his mirth. Instead of being angry she too began to laugh. Slowly she swam to the edge and offered her hand. He'd thrown her in so, the least he could do was help her out. When they connected it only to took her a second to pull him in.

Now it was his turn to sputter and flail. He thought about pouting, just to make her feel bad, but her laugh made him pause. Her eyes stopped him in his tracks. He didn't realize eyes could be so...deep. Or so warm.

"Yeah yeah, have your fun wench I'm outta here." He went to pull himself out of the pool, but her cool slick hands on his shoulders stopped him.

"Don't be grumpy." She tweaked his nose like a kid, and he wanted to glare at her and be menacing. Instead his lips came into a pout and she continued to squeal over how cute he was.

"You're so annoying." He said with a grin.

"Aren't I so lucky that you love me anyway?" It was scary. The overwhelming feeling he had to kiss her, scared him. Before he could think or act, he dunked her head under the water.

And so began the epic splash fight of 2013.

7 years later...

"Sorry for your loss." Said the faceless person for the umpteenth time. Inuyasha rubbed his face, doing his best to hold in his sigh. He gave a weak smile when the same person gave him a clap on the shoulder. Probably meant to be comforting no doubt, but it only served to further irritate the young man.

It'd been 90 minutes of this torment. The smiling, the talking, the hand shaking. He was over it. He sighed again. The funeral wasn't even until tomorrow, this was just the viewing for family, friends, and other members of the community.

"Yash!" He looked up at that, the first greeting to actually catch his attention in a while.

"Sup, Miro." The two embraced, you know in that manly way where they only use one arm. "Hi Sango." He said turning to the brunette at his buddy's side.

"I'm so sorry Yash." Sango stood on the tips of her toes to wrap her arms around Inuyasha's neck. He met her in the middle and they stayed like that for awhile. Sango was rubbing his back and he took a long shuttering breath before pulling back.

"Do you want to see her?" He said quietly. This was the hard part. The part he was glad Ms. Higurashi allowed him to do privately. He'd come early so he could be alone with her.

Gingerly he took Sango's arm and they walked towards the silver casket. It was tasteful, with her name and little angels and flowers carved into the sides.

"I can't believe this is happening." Her voice slowly crumbling as she continued to speak. She reached out to touch her friend's face. Soft, still plump, just a little pale. Her hair had been brushed, curled, and brushed again. "She looks beautiful."

"Yeah, I think so too." As so it went like that for another 90 minuted before things started to clear and people began to go home. Tomorrow they'd all be back for the last hurray. Their last time to see her before she was really gone, truly out of reach.

Tomorrow they were burying Kagome Higurashi. His person. His other half. His best friend.

The drive home was mechanical, monotonous. By the time he opened and shut the door to his apartment, his tie had been severely undone and he was out of his shoes. He hated wearing suits. They were thick and stuffy. He could hear water sloshing as he walked passed the bathroom.

It took him 5 minutes to change, light a cigarette and make a drink.

"You know I hate it when you smoke." He didn't turn to look behind him. A pair of slim arms fell over his shoulders and came to circle his neck gently. A warm, soft kiss was placed on his cheek.

"Sorry." Usually he'd go to stuff it out, but he took a long drag. His fiancee came around to sit on his lap. Her hair was pulled up, but some droplets from the tub had run down the strands onto her neck. She smelled liked lavender. It was her go to nighttime scent.

"You doing okay?" She put her hands on his cheeks to make them eye level, and the guilt gnawed on his heart. She looked tired, worried. She was worried about him.

"As okay as I can be. Her family is moving...quickly. She's barely been dead a week." Much to his fiancee's dismay he lit another cigarette when the first had been reduced to nothing. She also noticed that he brought the bottle on the balcony. It was always a long night when he brought the bottle on the balcony.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Nah. Get some sleep, the funeral is in the morning. You coming with me?"

"Of course." She gave him a lingering kiss as she got up to leave. Sending him one last desperate look before turning in. Kicking his legs up on the railing and reclining in his seat, Inuyasha got comfy. He felt bad for making Kikyou sad and making her worry. He knew she hated going to bed alone, knew even more she hated waking up alone, but it couldn't be helped.

It had only been an hour or so since the viewing, but already Inuyasha missed her face. He needed to see her, see her smile and her eyes. The picture he scrolled to was one of his favorites. It was a couple years back.

Back when everything was still good.

Year 2016

It wasn't the knocking, that finally got Inuyasha out of bed, but the incessant ringing of his apartment bell. He flung his covers in frustration, anger pronouncing every single one of his steps.

"What!" He said in growl. He was going to say more, but Kagome was standing his hallway. Wearing fishnets, shorts that looked almost like underwear, and a top that barely covered her nipples. She was smiling widely, deep blue lipstick making her appear hypothermic. Though it did complete her silver eye shadow and the buckets of glitter she had clearly dumped on herself.

"Kagome what are you wearing?" She still hadn't answered him even after pushing her way in. Steadily she made her way to his closet, haphazardly throwing his laundry about his room. "Hello?" He said impatiently.

"I'm a rave babe Inuyasha. I've been dying to check out the EDM scene. There's a DJ playing at Webz tonight you gotta come with me."

"I'm so confused, Kagome I was sleeping."

"Key word is was. Now, we're raving. Luckily for you all you need are shorts, leave the shirt off handsome." She gave him a wink that had him blushing to his toes and 30 minutes later they were standing in front of Webz. A new club that opened up downtown almost 6 months ago. Inuyasha hadn't heard too many good things about this place. It was a little too dark and grungy for his tastes.

Soon they were drinking and dancing, or headbanging as Kagome called it. He watched as the sweat traveled down Kagome's back, down to her shorts where her hips and ass swayed to the beat. He found himself entranced as Kagome threw her head to and fro, her hair swinging wildly about her. She laughed and Inuyasha fell in love with how free she looked.

"C'mon! Loosen up!" Soon his hair was wild too and his back was sweaty. He was grateful Kagome made him ditch the shirt. Once they got into the crowd things got hot. Kagome tapped him on the shoulder and when he bent down she continued to push him, so she could climb on his shoulders. Kagome continued to dance as he kept a firm grip on her thighs.

When they leave the club it's three am and Inuyasha doesn't know how he let Kagome convince him to leave his place. He made them instant ramen and let Kagome borrow one of his shirts. That night Inuyasha went to sleep with his ears ringing and his body spinning.

A ghost of a smile plays across his lips. In the picture Kagome was still on his shoulders. Her eyes were squinted as she stuck out her tongue. His eyes were closed and his mouth was wide like he had just finished yelling 'yay' to the photographer.

The tears hit his phone, before he could stop them. He was tired of crying, but it seemed to be all he could do these days. Taking the last swig of his drink Inuyasha made his way inside. Though his thoughts were consumed of Kagome, he knew Kikyou could bring him some peace. He got in the bed and Kikyou instantly turned to embrace him.

She was always waiting.

He didn't mean to start crying again. He didn't mean to keep her awake. Kikyou didn't complain. She held hold him closer, kissed his cheeks and then his lips. Slowly she melted into him, giving him all he could take. She wanted him to feel good. She wanted him to feel loved. She cradled his head to her chest when they parted.

"I'm sorry." He said again. He'd been doing a lot of apologizing lately.

"Don't worry. We'll get through this."

Day of the funeral

It was a beautiful day. The funeral home was covered top to bottom in flowers. Kagome's grandfather was the priest overseeing the service. Several people including Kagome's mother got on the podium to speak. Ms. Higurashi had to stop and compose herself, but she finished. Now it was his turn. He'd tried to get out of it, but alas here he was. Standing in front of everyone, all their eyes on him.

All he could see was Kagome. Her beautiful hands folded over her beautiful dress as she laid in her beautiful coffin. What the fuck was he supposed to say? In an instant Kikyou was there, holding his hand and giving him an encouraging look. This was better, it felt better not to be alone.

"I don't have a lot to say," he started, "if you know me you know I don't do this. I don't speak to people, I don't hang out with people. Hell if you really know me then you know I barely like people." That got a small chuckle from the crowd. He was happy to make them laugh, but he was only saying the truth. He knew Kagome would agree.

"When I was nine my parents died in a boating accident. In a year I moved across the country to live with my grandmother and I started going to a new school. The teacher, Mrs. Oliander, made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. While I was talking a kid threw a spit ball that hit me right in the eye. Everyone laughed, and a second later everyone went silent because Kagome stood up and punched that kid in the face."

"That's how we met, and ever since we had each other's back." He wiped his face and his throat burned. He would not cry in front of these people. He would be stronger than that. "Kagome...was the first person besides my parents that I gave my love to. She was kind and confident and she made it okay to love, to laugh. Kagome made everything okay, always, and if there's something I'm going to miss most about her it's going to be that. Thank you all for coming."

He sat for the rest of service and was one of the first people to leave and follow the hearse. The plot they had was nice, next to Kagome's father. Another thing they had in common. Only a kid with a dead parent knew how to comfort a kid with a dead parent.

It was harder than he thought watching them lower her into the ground. He wanted to skip out on throwing dirt on her coffin. Instead he threw a rose, something that would die just as beautifully as it grew. Like Kagome.

Kikyou was the one who pulled him away from the headstone. She said they could come back later, when they had covered her and they could bring her more flowers. The bright blue skies at the start of the service had slowly faded to grey as the day wore on. If the heaven's were so sad about gaining an angel maybe they should give her back.

That night Inuyasha sat on the balcony as he had been accustomed to doing the last several months. Kikyou sat beside him, a blanket over her lap and a book in her hand. He watched as Kikyou tried to tough it out for him. She was tired, but she didn't want to leave him alone. That gnawing guilt was back. The sour feeling in his stomach telling him that he was an asshole, that he didn't deserve all her kindness and understanding.

He sent her to bed with the promise to meet her there soon. He shouldn't finish the bottle of Jack, but he knew he would. Kikyou knew too. Instead of chastising him over his excess drinking, she let him indulge. He was grateful. Half a pack of smokes and several drinks later, Inuyasha was all but stumbling to bed.

Per usual, Kikyou rolled over as soon as his back hit the mattress. As Inuyasha closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his fiancee's hair, he allowed his drunken mind to wonder. Inuyasha gently maneuvered his way through a snag as the silky straight strands in his hands turned wavy.

"We'll get through this. We'll get past this." He heard Kagome say.

"I...don't know." He was so unsure, of everything.

"We will, because I love you." His grip on her tightened.

"I love you too."

6 months later

Kikyou woke up to the feeling of nails digging in her skin. The arm that was outstretched to her fiancee, as she always found herself reaching for him, was encased in a vice like grip. In the dark it was hard to see, but she thought Inuyasha was on his back. His head lulled back and forth, his grip loosening and tightening as he murmured under his breath. She could hear his legs and feet gliding across the sheets erratically.

"No...please." Kikyou sat up and scooted close. She could see his eyes moving rapidly under their lids. He was dreaming. She rested her free hand against his chest and began to rub, trying to soothe him.

"Shh, Inuyasha it's okay. It's okay."

"Kag...Kagome, don't, don't leave." She winced as she though his grip might actually break her wrist. She readjusted herself, snuggling her body close to his. She threw a leg around his middle, trying to wrap as much of herself as she could around him.

"I'm not going anywhere." She repeated as she rubbed where she could reach. She felt her tears running from corner to corner. She hoped he wouldn't ask why his shirt was wet in the morning. She wanted to stop. To shut off these tears and pretend to be stronger than that, but she couldn't.

The nightmares had gotten better. 3 months ago she woke up to the sounds of him screaming. Crying for Kagome in his sleep as he reached out for someone who wasn't there. The therapy seemed to be helping, seemed to be making him better. She had wanted to be that person he could talk to, and in so many ways she ways, but there were things he needed to say that she couldn't hear.

Things she knew she didn't want to hear. Kikyou knew Inuyasha loved Kagome. It was practically a damn commandment for being in Inuyasha's life. Thou shall know and respect Kagome Higurashi. When they had first began dating it was made very clear who Kagome was and what role she played in his life. It was also made very clear that any girl who found themselves unable to handle that, could leave.

So she stayed. She loved Inuyasha and she wanted to love Kagome too. If only because she meant so much to him. Kagome was bubbly and light and lively. She was the person in the room with so much energy she could invigorate anyone within a 10 mile radius. Many stories told of Kagome and her adventures, always seeming to be the most random things happening at the most random time in order to curate this beautiful moment.

Kikyou remembers the first nights of many nights, where Kagome found herself at their door. A random moment leading to an addiction and sending this beautiful, lively angel straight to hell. It was hard, watching someone as lovely as Kagome loose her wings. Watching her become someone no one could recognize.

It was never meth or heroine. It was pills and drinking and coke. Too many parties. Too many boys. Too many random moments that lead her into a nightmare. And now she was gone. Leaving a gaping hole in all the hearts she left behind. Leaving guilt with the ones who tried to help, but couldn't save her.

If there was one thing Kikyou hated Kagome Higurashi for, it was for leaving Inuyasha and turning him into this. There were so many things they were supposed to do, so many beautiful moments for her and Inuyasha to share. They were supposed to get married...then Kagome died and the world stopped turning. Inuyasha's world stopped turning.

He meant it when they said they always had each other's backs. Inuyasha was the only one that stayed by Kagome's side. Too many bail outs from jail, and DUIs, and fights, and thefts had caused everyone else to distance themselves. Even her mother, but not Inuyasha. He answered every 3 am call. He paid every bond. He never gave her cash, but he gave her food and a place to stay. Kikyou wanted him to change the locks when Kagome stole her engagement ring, in the middle of the night. He simply said that's why he splurged on insurance.

He refused to do what so many others had done. Inuyasha was nothing if not stubborn and he promised he would never give up on her. Then it happened. They found her in her bed, wrapped all cozy like she just wanted to take a nap. She remembers Inuyasha that day. The first time she'd ever seen him cry. The sight made her feel like she just took a drop from a 200 foot coaster.

For months it was a lot of crying, so much crying. Hardly ever in front of her. On the balcony, in the bathroom, into his pillow when he thought she was sleep. Each tear broke her heart. Each distant look caused her pain. She'd never forgive Kagome for taking away that light in his eye. The rare one that slips out when he's at his most unguarded. Now all that were left were shadows.

Inuyasha may have been living with a ghost, but so was she.

#JazaraRose #jazararosefanfiction #inukag #inukik #inuyasha #kagome #kikyo #fanfiction #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag fanfiction #inukik fanfiction

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antivanruffles · 6 years ago

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Hello! This is some original fic for @caffeineivore, since she donated as part of my fic drive. This is a snippet out of a whole big world of mine that we just affectionately refer to as ‘Highlanders.’ If she ever mentions “h6″ this is that.

When Liam had been given the opportunity to travel to Spain, his head had been full of grand ideas. He imagined immersing himself in the culture, learning all that he could while abroad. He had dreamt of seeing how the fine rapiers were made, perhaps even get a taste of Spanish fencing. The food, the people, the history!

Instead he was a glorified nanny to his two idiot friends.

Muttering a few choice curses he had picked up from Lachlan, Liam sighed and scrubbed at his face with both hands. Wondering how in the name of God he had lost both of them. At the same time. Or rather, how they had both managed to get lost at the same time?

“They’re both grown,” he said to himself. “Is it really my fault if they get lost in the Spanish countryside for the rest of their lives?”

Although he doubted it would be a very warm welcome back home if he returned without the laird to be. No matter how much of a fool he was. And there was no doubt in his mind that Marianne would murder him if he forget to bring Finn home. Leaving them to their own devices was not the answer, however tempting it may be. Unfortunately.

Liam sighed to himself and started to retrace his path through the streets of Santander in hopes of finding Eamon and Finn, since he had little hope either of them would manage to find their way back to La Casa de Maria on their own. Liam made his way through the market, assuming he would find Finn gorging himself on chocolate confections and attempting to count out the correct currency, but surprisingly Finn was nowhere in sight.

With a careful eye, Liam did his best to try to spot his friend, but the odds of hiding a giant blond highlander that more closely resembled a norse viking were slim to none. This obviously meant Liam’s search would not be an easy one.

As the cries from the hockers in the market grew fainter, the brightly colored booths and myriad of trinkets a dim memory, Liam found himself near where the established shops were. Laundresses, seamstresses, lacemakers, and every other textile one could imagine. Here is where he found Finn, set upon by a gaggle of young women who seemed to work for one of the lacemakers as he could hear the bobbins clacking inside the building behind them.

Finn appeared to be a little overwhelmed by the attention, stuttering through his replies in a mixture of English and Spanish. That, however, didn’t seem to deter the young ladies, all of whom appeared to be quite taken with the idea of a strapping young Scotsman.

Wide grey-blue eyes met Liam’s over the dark heads of hair. Finn grasped his moment for escape with both hands, and he started to brush passed the young ladies, still using a mixture of Spanish and English.

“My friend, uh, mi amigo? We… vamos? Adiós!” He made leap toward Liam, grabbed his shoulder and all but ran from the gaggle of now sad young women.

“What happened?” Liam asked once they were far enough away.

“I don’t know.” Finn shrugged. “I was trying to get back to the market, so I asked one of those lasses. Then she waved over her friend, who waved over another friend. I don’t think they’d ever seen a Scotsman before.”

“Aye, you’re such a novelty.” Liam rolled his eyes. Of course Finn missed all the doe eyes and swooning.

“Where’s Eamon?”

“I was hoping you knew?”

“No, I thought he was with you!”

Liam sighed, shoulders sagging. “Back to my search. Come on, Finn. At least you’re another set of eyes.”

Surprisingly, it didn’t take them all that long to find Eamon. They traveled up a few of the side streets and stumbled across him quite by accident. In fact they likely would have passed him by if not for his loud, and rather pathetic, hollar in their direction.

Turning as one, Liam and Finn came upon the sight of their friend and future laird, soaking wet and sprawled in a rather gangly fashion in a large wash tub. It obviously belonged to one of the laundresses, judging by the washboard and laundry hanging beyond it. Although no one else was in sight save Eamon.

Small mercies, Liam thought.

“Should I ask what happened?”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Eamon moaned. He attempted to get up only to slip back into the tub, sloshing water all over the cobblestones. It was all Liam could do not to laugh. Finn, however, was not to tactful, letting out a loud bark of laughter at his friend’s plight.

“Stop laughing and help me out, you mithering bawbag!”

“Since you asked so nicely….” Finn was still giggling as he helped pull Eamon from his watery prison.

Sopping wet, Eamon much resembled a drowned rat as he attempted to shake out of the water from his boots and wring out the ends of his shirt. He seemed to be trying hard not to pout, although when he was upset it just seemed to be what his face did. For better or worse.

Liam was still struggling not to laugh.

“Can we go now?” Eamon asked miserably, brushing back his wet hair from his face only to have it fall back into his eyes.

“I’d like to know how you got in this predicament. Usually you save your baths for private.” Liam tilted his head.

“It’s a long story.” Eamon sniffed, a little haughty.

“Can’t be that long, you’ve not been out of my sight for more than an hour.”

“I’ll tell you once I’m dry. Now, let’s go so that I may change.” Eamon was trying for politeness, most likely because he knew the more he pushed the more resistance he would meet, however the pinpricks of pink starting in the center of his cheeks gave away his annoyance. And embarrassment.

Liam decided to take pity on his friend, and nodded. “Fine, I’ll lead the way back to Maria’s. Come along you numpties.”

He visibly relaxed at that, falling in line with Finn as Liam started steering them up the street.

“Eamon? Doesn’t Emilia work around here?”

“Does she?” Eamon’s voice hitched up.

“Aye, I think so.”

“I didn’t know.” Eamon’s voice was still unusually high, and casting wary glances over his shoulder.

“It wasn’t another ‘misunderstanding’ was it?” Liam cocked an eyebrow.

“Was what?” Eamon’s eyes were wide, dark brows inching up his forehead.

Looking back down the street, Liam just happened to catch a glimpse of a brightly colored skirt and a long braid of dark hair. Emilia wasn’t actively watching them leave, but she was certainly aware of it.

“Never mind,” Liam said with a shake of his head. He couldn’t imagine how horribly Eamon had mangled his Spanish in order to earn being shoved into a tub of dirty laundry water, but at this point he wasn’t shocked by it.

One day Emilia was probably going to kill Eamon, and Liam wasn’t entirely sure he would stop her.

#caffeineivore #fic drive fic #my writing #my original characters

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kumkaniudaku · 7 years ago

Text

Daddy Duty: Three

<< Previous Chapter

Loud and confusing music beat against the doors of the Reagan Room at the Hilton Santa Barbara as you stepped into the hallway to take a break. When Yvonne told you that she needed your help for an “upscale” wedding, you expected a quiet time with fine cuisine. Instead, you were met with the bridal party from Hell. What started as a beautiful ceremony shifted into an all out rager complete with a near brawl during cocktail hour, a groomsman being escorted out of the venue and the most annoying EDM music known to man.

Taking a deep breath, you checked the time on your phone.

“You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me! How in the hell is it only 7:04?” With knowledge of the time, you began to worry. Chadwick hadn’t called, texted or sent a picture of what was going on at home. You wrestled with yourself for several moments before unlocking your phone and dialing your husband’s number.

The phone rang...and then it rang...then it rang some more until Chadwick’s voicemail box started up. Waiting impatiently for the option to record the message, you tapped your foot against the carpet.

“Hey, baby. I’m just calling to see if everyone is okay. I know you probably have everything under control.” You paused for a moment to think of something else to say. It felt foolish to leave such a short message after all the trouble you went through. “Did Noah eat the peaches? I hope he liked them. Don’t forget that I put his bathing tub in the laundry room closet after I cleaned it. Micah is gonna fight it, but take her braids down. You remember how to do it, right? Um...I miss you guys! And I love you. Call me back when you get a chance. Bye.”

You reluctantly tapped the red button to end the call and stared at your phone. It was unusual for Chadwick not to answer, especially considering the circumstances. Your manicured finger hovered his name in the recent call log to try again until the growing noise of the reception interrupted you.

“There you are,” Yvonne huffed. “Girl, the bride is requesting that we switch the seating arrangements again. We gotta move Aunt Beatrice away from Uncle Jebediah, but not too close to Cousin Lydia.”

“What? We just moved Aunt Beatrice away from Conrad from next door because they aren’t seeing eye to eye right now!”

“With them thick ass sunglasses on, Conrad ain’t seeing shit right now.”

“Yeah, you right,” you mumbled. Both of you took a moment to mentally laugh at the image of the two elderly people arguing despite not being able to properly see each other in the dim lighting of the reception hall. Your mind took a turn and began to drift into the memory of Noah going back and forth with Chadwick though he was months away from speaking his first words. The gurgling responses after Chadwick would accuse Noah of purposely crying to take your away during an intimate moment never failed to ma-.

“Tasha,” Yvonne called, snapping you out of your trance. “Hurry up! We don’t have that much time!”

As much as it pained you to leave without having a response from home, you couldn’t disappear when your best friend needed you. Taking one last weary look at your phone, you begrudgingly trotted off to play referee.

_____________

“Where in the hell is his tub?”

Chadwick stood in the master bathroom opening and closing cabinets for the fifth time in search of Noah’s bathing tub. In the three hours since the lunch disaster, he’d learned a few things about his children.

Micah was a child that could talk about everything and nothing at the same time for hours. She did not care if you responded or seemed to be listening. If she had a thought, she planned to get it out.

Conversely, Noah only spoke when he felt like someone was talking to him. If the room was quiet, he had no problem following suit. Unfortunately, with Micah’s unceasing commentary, he babbled quite often. Noah was also active and curious, which made for no naps for either child and a deliriously tired Chadwick.

After a call to his mother for help, she suggested baths for both children to wind them down and prepare the atmosphere for relaxation. The idea was amazing, but, without the proper materials, Chadwick couldn’t continue his quest for rest.

“I gotta call Co,” he mumbled to himself, reaching in the pocket of his sweatpants for his phone. Expecting to feel the smooth surface of his iPhone, Chadwick was surprised to find the device missing from its usual spot. He went through a quick patting routine in search of his phone before whipping his head around the bathroom to scan for the missing item. “Micah! Where did you put my phone?”

A split second of silence preceded the violent sloshing of water tipping over the edge of the bathtub for the third time. Noah giggled at the sound from his bouncer in the center of the room, the sound taunting his father. Micah emerged from her “mermaid adventure” soaking wet with goggles covering her eyes.

“Mmmm, I dunno. Did you look in your pocket?”

“Did I...yes. I checked my pockets,” he explained. “You had it to play Angry Birds. Where did you put it?”

“I gave it back! I think…”

Chadwick sighed in frustration and ran his fingers through his disheveled coils. There was no point in going back and forth with a six year old to determine the whereabouts of his phone. For all he knew, it was at the bottom of the pool to return no more. Besides, that was the least of his worries. He still needed to figure out how to bathe Noah.

“Alright, baby girl, go ahead and get out of the tub. Did you bathe?”

“Yep!”

He sensed some hesitation in her answer, “Everywhere?”

“Yep!”

“Even the way Mommy taught you?”

“Uhhhh…”

“Take a bath, Noelle,” he deadpanned. “When I come back, you need to be done.”

Micah mumbled a slow ‘yes sir’ as Chadwick turned to lift Noah from his portable baby boncepod.

The five minute search through Noah’s bedroom didn’t produce his bathing tub, forcing Chadwick to come up with another solution. After all, there weren’t always fancy tubs to clean babies. After ensuring the Micah was clean and dressed for bed, he gave her a few instructions.

“Listen, Princess, I need you to do Daddy a favor.” Any opportunity to help her father excited the six-year old, leading to an eager head nod. “I need you to close the door and sit outside while Daddy cleans your brother.”

“But why do I have to sit outside? Mommy always lets me watch!”

“I know, but Daddy’s gonna do it a little different this time. So, I need you to play with your toys in our room. Can you do that for me?”

“Can I play with my dolls on the bed?” She knew that action was forbidden when you were home and wanted to test the limits in your absence. It worked in her favor. A tired daddy was willing to do anything for a few moments of obedience.

“Anything you want. Just, please, stay in the bedroom. Okay?”

“Yes, sir!”

Her small and ashy feet hit pattered across the soaking wet tile and across the carpet to recruit her legion of Barbies for the party on her parents’ California king. With one child taken care of, Chadwick moved to take care of Noah.

“Alright, AJ, we gon’ do this old school.”

Stripping his son of his onesie and diaper, Chadwick made quick work of preparing both of them for a shower. In his mind, he’d bathe two boys at once to cut down on the amount of time spent in the bathroom.

After checking the temperature of the water and adjusting the shower head pressure, Chadwick stepped into the shower holding his baby boy close to his chest. The soothing lather of the gentle baby soap and the warm water sliding down his smooth skin did its best to lull Noah into sleep. Through his yawns and dropping lids, he tried to fight his natural urge to close his eyes.

“C’mon, son, go to sleep. It’s okay.” Chadwick was pleading at this point, hoping for half of his offspring to grant him mercy. Noah offered a small yawn in return as he peered up his father.

Despite the hell and high water from earlier in the day, Chadwick smiled down at his baby. Both of his children had taught him so much about life and what it meant to love and be loved. Their unconditional love coupled with your’s kept him going when he was nearing the end of his rope. No matter how many times he had to clean up messes, listen to endless stories about fictional characters, or deal with the foul aftermath of a fruit filled lunch, he wouldn’t trade his current situation for the world.

Hearing Micah giggle in the other room reminded Chadwick that he had a task to complete. Juggling Noah in one had, Chadwick took care of his routine before exiting the shower to get dressed and clean the water from the floor.

He was surprised to find Micah where she was supposed to be, splitting her attention between two dolls as she combed their hair. That reminded him of your earlier instructions. He had to take down dozens of slim cornrows before he could attempt to get some rest. His only saving grace was that Noah was drifting into a peaceful slumber. Attempting to lay him down on your side of the bed turned into an all out war. The months of cradling him to sleep came back to bite Chadwick in the ass when Noah made it impossible for him to be let go of. He clung to Chadwick’s t-shirt with all of his strength until he won the battle.

“AJ, why are you doing this to me,” Chadwick whined in the middle of another round of trying to put him down. Noah didn’t budge, forcing his father to figure out another plan.

“Daddy, Mommy says you have to do my hair.”

“Yes, my little tape recorder, I know.”

“What’s a tape recorder?”

“Don’t worry about it. Come here.”

_______________

Minutes turned into hours as the moon took its rightful place in the night sky and, still, there was no word on your family’s well-being. You had called, sent text messages, Instagram DMs, and whatever other means of communication you could find, but there was no response.

You’d traded in the form fitting black dress and heels for a dingy Sparks t-shirt and pajama shorts to wind down for the night. Sitting on the couch with Yvonne in the spacious rental home’s living room, you sipped wine and stared at the wall thinking about all of the dangerous plaguing that could be your babies at that very moment.

“Did you see the keg stand after garter was tossed? Why pay $30,000 for a wedding if you gon’ do a keg stand in your good clothes? White people need guidance,” looking over to you, she noticed your attention was elsewhere. “Tasha, relax. Drink this expensive ass red wine and eat this leftover dip. They really had dip at their wedding. The ghetto!”

“What if they aren’t safe, ‘Vonne. He hasn’t answered me all day!”

“Sounds to me like you don’t trust your man to take care of his kids for a day.” Yvonne gave you a look over the rim of her glass, earning a shocked expression from you.

“That’s not true! I trust him!”

“Then, hush! Finish this bottle, watch Tyler Perry plays and go to bed. Chadwick got all that shit under control.”

You thought for a moment. If you continued to call and worry, you were sending a message to your husband that you didn’t trust him. That was the last thing you wanted to do to him. You were confident in his ability to his care for his own children. God forbid anything ever happen to you, that would be his sole responsibility. You had to give him the space to “prove” himself.

Catching Yvonne’s amused twinkle in her eye, you smiled and grabbed the bottle on the coffee table. “Let’s start with Meet the Browns. You know that’s my shit.”

____________

“Ouch, Daddy! That hurt!”

Chadwick drew his hand back to run it over his face. He knew it would be difficult to undo braids with one free hand a fussy baby in his arms, but he never imagined it would turn into the spectacle in front of him.

Micah lay with her head across his lap, flinching away from Chadwick if he so much as looked at her head. What he thought would take 30 minutes at the most turned into an hour long affair. Even worse, he was barely halfway done.

“Baby girl, you gotta be still. If you keep moving, I’m gonna pull your hair.”

“But it hurts. Mommy doesn’t hurt my head when she does it.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, rubbing his hands over her loose section of hair. “Mommy’s good at stuff like this. She’s good at everything.” Pushing the wide tooth detangling comb out of the way and pulling the covers back, he made room in the space beside him. “Let’s take a break, Princess. We can finish in the morning. Come on up here.”

Micah drug her body to the top of the bed, wasting no time as she snuggled into her father’s side to lay her head on his chest. A small yawn forced its way past her lips for the first time all day. Chadwick placed a kiss on top of her head and ran his hands up and down her arm, warming the cotton fabric of her night shirt.

Several moments of relative silence hung in the air; the low murmurs of cartoon conversation playing from the television in the background.

“I miss Mommy,” Micah spoke, breaking the silence and gaining Chadwick’s attention.

“Me too, baby girl. Try to go to sleep. By the time you wake up, she’ll be right here to sing the good morning song.”

She sleepily nodded to acknowledge Chadwick’s statement before reaching over to rub Noah’s back. The baby’s pacifier bobbed in his mouth as he stirred from his sleep, calming down once he found comfort against Chadwick’s shoulder.

“Good night, Noey,” Micah whispered with her eyes fluttering closed. “Good night, Daddy. I love you.”

Her skinny arms wrapped around Chadwick’s torso as far as they could while she nuzzled her face into his side.

He looked between his perfect angels and placed a kiss on each of their foreheads. “I love you, too, baby girl. Good night.”

The light from the television became the only light in the room, providing the perfect atmosphere for a much needed slumber.

____________

In Santa Barbara, over 80 miles away, you lay awake in the midnight hour. Your best efforts to relax and enjoy your mini vacation did nothing to overpower the worry clouding your mind. Counting sheep was futile and the alcohol failed at its one job to act as a sleep aid. It’d been years since you slept without someone by your side, and months since there wasn’t at least one tiny copy of you nestled in the sheets between two adult bodies. The thoughts of your family tormented your mind until you couldn’t take it.

You had to go.

Slipping on your slides and gathering your belongings, you tip toed out of your room and into the living room. Scribbling a note to Yvonne and leaving money on the coffee table for the breakfast you promised to pay for, you hurried to your Range Rover to start the two hour journey back home.

You raced down 101 South, singing and praying to stay awake while your drove. Every twenty minutes, you would try to reach Chadwick again, sighing in defeat when he didn’t answer. As you neared the exit to get you closer to your upper class neighborhood, you prepared yourself for the absolute worst. At two in the morning, there was no telling what kind of horrors sat behind the front door of your home.

The scramble to undo your seatbelt and bolt for the front door was filled with stomach churning apprehension. Pushing the front door open after using your key to unlock it, you were met with pitch black darkness and silence.

“Chadwick,” you called from your place in the foyer, receiving no answer.

The flashlight of your cell phone illuminated your path as you searched the first level of the house for any sign of life. Most things looked to be in their usual spot, accept the cell phone glowing blue with new notifications on the living room’s bookcase.

Grabbing it and one of Micah’s kindergarten trophies, you took careful steps through the house to the stairs. If necessary, you were prepared to exercise the fragment of martial arts training you learned from your husband.

Micah’s room was the first to be searched. Your heart rate quickened when you found her bed empty of her lanky frame. A scan of Noah’s room yielded the same result.

With one more room left, you allowed the sound of the television to guide you. With a deep breath, you pushed open the cracked door to peek inside the room. You could’ve melted into floor at the sight in front of you.

The soft glow from the Spongebob episode illuminated the touching scene in front of you, warming your body with a rush of emotions.

Chadwick lay in the center of the bed as he held both children close to his body. Micah clung to the space under his arm while Noah subtly moved up and down on his chest with every breath. The love of your life was absolutely exhausted with his mouth open to release the heavy breaths accompanying his light snores.

Walking over to the bed, you ran your fingers across Chadwick’s knuckles before reaching to grab Noah from his arms. Your attempt was stopped when Chadwick locked his arms around the infant and popped open one eye.

The other one opened to reveal a crazed and tired look as he fought to recognize your face. When he came to, his eyes softened and a drowsy smile curved the corner of his mouth.

“Hey, baby,” he rasped. “Is it the morning already?”

“Sort of. It’s 2:15.”

“2:15? Is something wrong? Did somebody die?” He allowed you to slide Noah from his grasp.

“No one is dead, baby. May I?” Chadwick granted your request by shifting in the bed to make space for you while you shimmied out of your jacket. The cool sheets hitting your skin mixed with the individual scents of your family. Chadwick took the opportunity to hug you close to him and rest his head on your chest. “How was it today?”

“It was...it was good.” Chadwick’s voice went up an octave, indicating that he was being less than honest.

“They kicked you ass didn’t they.”

“Oh my God, I want to sleep for three days. Who knew my little girl could talk so much? And AJ! Why does he shit like a grown man? What are you feeding my son with these beautiful titties?”

You were forced to stifle a giggle to refrain from waking up the children. “But you made it, and I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, baby. Please, don’t ever leave us again. At the very least, leave some instructions.”

“I won’t,” you laughed before kissing his forehead. “I won’t.”

Chadwick hummed his approval and tightened his grip on your waist. You listened for a moment to the breathing of the three pieces of your heart, smiling as they breathed in sync. The love oozing from heart was enough to fill the pool in the backyard three times over and it brought you to happy tears.

It was unlikely that you’d never leave them at home for work or play, but there was one thing you were sure of: through all the travels and fun, there was no place you’d rather be than wrapped in your family’s arms.

____________

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#chadwick boseman #chadwick boseman imagine #chadwick boseman fan fiction #chadwick x reader #chadwick boseman x you #chad x coco #coco x chad #black panther fics #black panther fan fiction #black panther fiction #black panther #black panther fanfiction

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perksgreys · 2 years ago

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Under counter radio clock radios prices

#Under counter radio clock radios prices full

#Under counter radio clock radios prices Bluetooth

#Under counter radio clock radios prices tv

People who rent their home or move frequently may want a unit they can mount and dismount with ease. Another thing to consider is the mounting options for a particular model. Users looking for more basic functionality may want an under cabinet radio that just plays their favorite CDs or cycles through the AM and FM frequencies.

#Under counter radio clock radios prices Bluetooth

Newer features like USB and Bluetooth connectivity are important for some users, and there are many models which support these features. With technology moving as fast as it is, buying a recently released under cabinet radio model is the best way to make the purchase last. Most under cabinet radios share many design similarities, though there are a few differences which may make your final decision easier. Spending time listening to music from an under cabinet radio while doing laundry or relaxing in the tub may make a person better equipped to handle the stresses of the day. Researchers noted that inducing a positive mood with music can lead to a better stress response. Not only that, but people who were made happier through music were also much more likely to recover from stress quickly and easily. In a recent study, researchers found that music could evoke a positive mood in its listeners. Using an under cabinet radio to listen to music while doing daily activities has definite benefits. This gives the music more resonance, making it sound richer and fuller, with no additional work from the radio itself. By directing sound downwards or out to the sides, it bounces off the walls around and the countertop below the radio. Many under cabinet radios are designed to use the effects of sound reflection.

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This means these speakers have to rely solely on their own amplification to produce a rich, full sound. The speakers of a standalone radio are designed to push sound forward. In the kitchen, mounting the radio safely above the counter also protects it from water damage.Īn often overlooked bonus of under cabinet radios is their ability to use their surroundings to their advantage. This space saving feature also protects an under cabinet radio from accidents caused by knocking it over or getting something tangled in the cord. Using an under cabinet radio frees up space on the kitchen counter, workbench, spa deck, or wherever else you would have put a traditional radio. There are many distinct advantages to choosing an under cabinet radio. Those who don't want their under cabinet radio to stick out too much may want to opt for the thin RCA SPS3688B. It doesn't offer Bleutooth, though it does have an auxiliary jack for connecting a smartphone or MP3 player. The Jensen SMPS-628 and Sony ICFCDK50 probably have the best sound quality of the bunch, but the technology on the Sony ICFCDK50 is outdated. It does come with a hefty price tag, however.

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The Venturer KLV3915 is the ideal choice for anyone who wants to be able to watch TV while cooking, in addition to listening to music of course. If you don't need a CD player, AUX jack, or USB port, then you can save a little money and go with the iLive IKB318S, which is essentially the same item, just with less connectivity options. If you want the utmost versatility, your best bet is the iLive iKBC384SMP3U, which offers more connection options that any other model we could find. Despite that, we have done a good job of identifying the best of the admittedly small bunch. For whatever reason, most major audio equipment manufacturers just don't offer one. Unfortunately, when it comes to under cabinet radios, it is slim pickings in the market. All of our choices offer Bluetooth and radio, and some of them, like the Tyler TKS-1, offer handy features like LED lighting on the bottom. We still include some simpler, but reliable choices for anyone who wants to listen to music while cooking but doesn't want to fuss with extra functions they won't use. It also works as an Alexa and can carry out voice commands, making this the best choice for users looking for all the latest technology. Our newest addition, the iLive Platinum does have a higher price tag, but it's also the only under cabinet radio that can pair with Bluetooth devices and hook up to your home Wi-Fi, bringing even more music possibilities into the kitchen. It's priced right on par with competitors. This holds especially true for the iLive IKBC, the brand's recently upgraded model that includes a CD player. The iLive brand continues to be the premium brand for under cabinet radios without charging a premium price.

#Under counter radio clock radios prices

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thetomhallgroup-blog · 2 years ago

Video

youtube

809 Slim Drive, Midwest City, Oklahoma 73130Great one-owner home feels just like new! Choctaw schools this 3 bed with study or 4 bedroom home sits in a cul de sac and backs up to a greenbelt for extra privacy! Large living room with wood floors, center fireplace with mantle, open kitchen with center island w storage, under cabinet lighting, large pantry, double ovens, and lots of counter space. Every room has a ceiling fan. Split floor plan with large spare bedrooms. One bedroom has a HUGE walk-in closet! The spare bathroom opens to one of the rooms and is accessible to guests when you have company. Faux wood blinds throughout the home. large laundry area that opens from the hall near the garage to the master closet and master bathroom. The master bath has a walk-in shower, separate jetted tub, and double vanities along with a toilet closet. Full gutters around the home, a nice spacious backyard with a covered patio. Double garage door openers, insulated garage doors, and storm shelter.

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beetlebeverages · 6 years ago

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mcconnell family history — headcanons

Edith and Joseph Cadwell parented four beautiful daughters, all close in age. Louisa, born in 1978, Muriel, born in 1986, Marianne, born in 1981, and Elaine, born in 1975. These daughters were raised to become trophy brides, because that was the best way for them to be supported for the rest of their lives. Joseph and Edith took great care in helping their daughters along, raising them with kindness as well as discipline and creating the perfect women. They all grew up absolutely beautiful, and married young. Louisa met and married a twenty six year old named Matthew Davenport at twenty two. Muriel married Richard Kensington, twenty seven, at twenty. Marianne married Isaac McConnell, thirty, at nineteen. Elaine married twenty nine year old Henry Price at twenty three. Edith and Joseph were incredibly proud of their daughters, and continue to be. All of the men these women married were older and rich, and that was the plan from the start. Mr. and Mrs. Cadwell wanted men who would support their little girls, and they found just that. Five years ago, Muriel’s husband, Richard, died in a boating accident. The funeral was painful and heartbreaking, and Muriel was crushed. They’d only been married two years, and had yet to have children. The rest of the daughters didn’t follow in Muriel’s footsteps. Elaine is currently pregnant with a baby boy, yet to be named. Louisa gave birth to Jackson in 2002, and Ellen in 2005. Marianne had Nadia and Jason, twins, at age twenty, in January of 2001. Muriel has yet to remarry, though she’s been dating an older man named Theodore DuPont, and she brings him to family gatherings and such. Louisa and Matthew live in New York state with their children. Elaine and Henry live in Connecticut. Muriel resides in Colorado, but flies in for holidays with Theodore. The sisters are polite and polished, as well as extremely wealthy as of now. They are gossipy and tend to pester and nag things that they view as imperfect. You can expect millions of questions and backhanded compliments from the Cadwell sisters, but it was the way they were raised.

Ruth Bishop and Chandler McConnell raised four children, though if you asked, they’d tell you three. Rosaline was born in 1972, Rowan in 1961, Isaac in 1970, and Helen in 1966. Mr. and Mrs. McConnell had severely different beliefs on how to raise children, and they divorced shortly after Rosaline was born. Ruth was bold spirited and would gladly fight someone if need be. She was strong and independent, and wanted her children to be the same. Ruth Bishop died in 1989 of breast cancer, much to the dismay of all of her children. They all had completely adored her, but Chandler McConnell took this as an opportunity. He retaught his children, getting rid of the free-spirited careless streaks they’d received from their mother. Rowan and Isaac went to business school and grew wealthy. Rowan married a younger woman named Penelope, and had a daughter, Bethany, with her in 2004. Isaac McConnell married Marianne Cadwell, and twins Jason and Nadia were born in 2001. Helen married at twenty five, to a man named Scott Bellamy, and had three children. Elizabeth was born in 1993, Mary in 2003, and Preston in 2006. Rosaline didn’t follow her siblings. She kept the boldness of her mother, and she was kind and gentle, just as she’d been raised. Rosaline married a woman named Alison Lockwood in 1997, and was disowned the same year for her ‘deviant behavior’ and ‘hellish lifestyle choices.’ Chandler would not have a lesbian daughter, for that was entirely trashing the McConnell name. Chandler McConnell is, and always has been, a very right wing, racist, homophobic, sexist, unkind man, and every McConnell has grown used to that and accepted it as fact. Helen is still in touch with Rosaline, but Rowan and Isaac are not, and neither are their children. Jason and Nadia have only met Rosaline once, at Helen’s baby shower, but they love her. She’s intelligent and kind, and admired by those who don’t hate her. Rowan and Penelope live in New Jersey, Helen and Scott in Rhode Island, and Rosaline and Alison in Manhattan.

Jason Isaac and Nadia Elise McConnell were raised in utter chaos. Their parents, Isaac and Marianne, being verbally abusive, and occasionally physical. The twins absolutely adore each other, but they fear their family. Going home for school breaks causes genuine stress between the siblings. The four live in a pristine, large home with a pool, hot tub, and a maid, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. The house is beautiful, and so is the family’s exterior, but the surface can only say so much. Marianne mocks Nadia’s weight and appearance, always telling her that slimming down is in her best interest. Isaac forces Jason into sports and business, and yells at or hits either child if their grades slip or if they do something that reflects poorly on the family. The parents and extended family are unkind, prestigious people. Mr. McConnell has been sleeping with his secretary, a young Angelina Evans, for years. Marianne is well aware of this fact, but pretends to be oblivious, as do the twins. Mrs. McConnell doesn’t want her marriage to unravel, although it was never a very good one. The house’s maid is a warm, kind woman from Tennessee, Betty Brown. She cooks and cleans and does the laundry, while Marianne has book club and yoga, and Isaac works. She was Nadia and Jason’s nanny when they were young, and continued her maid duties afterwards. Jason struggles with his sexuality and life goals because of family, as does Nadia with her weight and appearance. They both constantly feel like they’re disappointing someone. The twins were raised Catholic, and have been in private school their whole lives. Catholic elementary and middle, and Saint Cecelia’s boarding school in Bryn Athyn, Pennsylvania for high school. The way they’ve been taught religion is strict and unforgiving, though, of course, that is not how every Catholic is. The siblings fear much and struggle with things internally because of this. Jason is capable of hiding his emotions, and Nadia is not, but it’s there for both of them.

On holidays, everyone flies or drives to Isaac and Marianne’s home. Big meals are cooked by the maid and several of her friends or by a caterer, depending on the holiday. Holidays are full of personal questions and unkind compliments and remarks, as well as downright mean relatives. Jason is mocked for his lack of a girlfriend, though they don’t pick on him for much else. Nadia is teased for her weight, her grades, her being single. The aunts, having married young, don’t help her in the slightest. Holidays are polite banter amongst adults, unkind remarks about the children and about Rosaline as well as the gay neighbors, as well as food and the occasional night where adults stay late drinking in the hot tub and tell Nadia and Jason to go to bed and the other children to wait inside. Jason and Nadia get along with their cousins alright, though they’re not close, but all of the cousins dislike Preston, except his siblings. He’s a spoiled, fat little kid, and he’s already disrespectful. His sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, are kind and well-mannered, and they’re less rude than much of the family. Bethany is younger, but she’s not hated. She’s somewhat of a goody-two-shoes and will snitch on anyone who says anything, but she means well, and no one blames her for it. Jackson and Ellen are uptight and always overdressed. Ellen is sweet and lovely, and Jackson is geeky and mean, but they’re both tolerable.

The family, in a nutshell, is an absolute mess, and Jason and Nadia wish to be nowhere near it, but it’s what they’re used to. Everyone is used to it, and that’s okay, for now. Jason knows he’d be disowned if he came out, so he plans to get through college first. Nadia barely deals with all the crude comments, but she tries her best. Everyone tries, no matter how hard they have it, and both twins hide their worries and insecurities. Nadia, behind rudeness, and Jason, behind striving for perfection.

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