got the idea on here

Babysitter {Damian Wayne Imagine + Jason Todd and Reader}


summary~ this takes place after I’m Pregnant, which I wouldn’t say is mandatory to read before this, but i still recommend it :) damian has to take care of the reader and jason todd’s son, tommy. but-damian has no clue what a toddler is even like.

a/n~first off, thank you all so much for 300 followers! it means the world to me!! also, i got this story idea from @cas-backwards-tie! and i have to be honest here, i don’t know too much about little kids, so if a couple things are off about a 1 year old, sorry about that. i did my best to google what a toddler is like but i might be off by a bit. anyways, i hope you guys like this!! (damian is supposed to be around 15 in this btw)

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Jason said in disbelief as you were leaning into the car, unbuckling your son.

“Will you relax already? Damian said that he’d be happy to babysit Tommy, and frankly, he’s the only person available right now,” you said, raising the toddler out of the carseat. 

Jason crossed his arms and pouted, “I don’t trust him with my child.”

“You are a child. Now come on, grab the diaper bag and let’s go,” you said, bouncing Tommy up and down.

Truthfully, you weren’t really sure how Damian would deal with a one year old. But, Dick was in Bludhaven and Tim was far too busy with school. Bruce wasn’t even in the country, and he had dragged Alfred with him. And Barbara? Well, Barbara was going through a hard time right now. Damian would be your last choice to watch Tommy, but hopefully he could pull through on this one. And honestly, you were surprised that he even agreed to do this.

“This is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had,” Jason complained as the three of you stood outside of the manor doors. He knocked sluggishly and continued to pout.

You rolled your eyes and patted Tommy’s head as you held him. The doors opened and Damian greeted you, “Hello, Y/N,” he nodded, “Todd.”

Jason scoffed, “Demion.”

“Thank you so much for doing this, Demi-I mean Damian. It really means allot to us,” You said as you walked into the manor.

“He is my nephew, after all. I suppose I shall keep my family happy,” Damian said with his hands behind his back.

“Well you know you can always call us if you have any questions or problems. Everything you need is in the diaper bag,” you smiled, “We need to get going now.”

You gave your son a kiss and Jason followed. Then, you handed him to Damian, who clearly had no idea how to hold a child. He held the baby away from his body and made a face, “He has an odor.”

You laughed and Jason frowned, “You’ve never taken care of a baby before, have you?”

“Oh, please, of course I have! It was…in my training back in the league.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised.


You sighed and explained to Damian the most basic steps to watching a child. Changing a diaper, feeding, playing, and safety. 

“He shits himself 5 times a day?!?” Damian said in absolute disbelief.

“Unfortunately,” you took Jason’s hand to examine the watch on his wrist, “We have to go! We’ll miss the train. We will be back tomorrow morning to pick Tommy up,” you said before opening the door, “Call me if you have any questions, and refrain from killing our son.”

You ran out to the car, but Jason stayed behind to have a word with Damian, “If anything happens to my kid, I’m going to strangle you.”

“I’m extremely capable of taking care of a toddler. How bad could it be?” Damian shrugged as Tommy crawled past his right foot. Jason groaned and started to walk out the door, shooting Damian one last glare before leaving. As soon as the door shut, Damian scratched his head while watching the toddler chew on a potted plant by the coat rack.

He walked over to Tommy and squatted down, “Hello, small child.”

The toddler waved at Damian as he continued to gnaw on the plastic leaf. Damian laughed and gave the child a pat on the head, “This won’t be so bad.”

“He won’t stop crying, Dick. I don’t know what to do. I gave him a piece of steak and he started to cry even more,” Dick freaked out on the phone. His once white shirt was covered in stains that he couldn’t even identify, his hair was pointed in different directions, and he lost one of his socks.

“You tried to give the child steak?” Dick said in disbelief over the phone, “You’re joking, right?”

“What do I feed it?” 

“You feed him baby food, that mushed up crap in a jar. Didn’t they put some in a diaper bag?” Dick lectured.

“…I hadn’t even thought of that,” Damian said as he hushed the crying baby who was sitting on the couch, covered in A1 steak sauce, “Thanks, Grayson.”

“Wait-” Dick said, but Damian hung up the phone. He grabbed the diaper bag and started to search through it. There were bottles and toys, “Ah! Baby food!” Damian picked out one of the jars.

He opened it and went to the kitchen to get a spoon from the drawer. When he got back, Tommy was no longer sitting on the couch.

“Shit!” Damian shouted as he put the baby food on the coffee table, “Where did you run off to?” He started looking everywhere, under the couch, inside of the cushions, behind the TV stand, but the kid was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, God…Oh Go, what do I do?!?” Damian pulled his hair. It’d be an idiotic idea to call you and Jason, they’d never let him watch Tommy again. He ran all over the house trying to find the toddler. Could he climb up stairs? Damian wondered.

He checked behind curtains and under beds and on top of the fridge, but the kid was gone. He finally dialed his phone in shame and called you to admit he had lost your child within the first 5 hours of babysitting him.

“Hey Damian. Everything alright?” you answered.

“No. Not at all, Y/N. I….I have something I need to tell you.”

“Oh God, what happened?” you asked, fearful of the answer.

“I lost-” Damian started, but then he heard a loud noise come from the trash can.

“You lost what, Damian?”

Damian quickly ran over to the trash and looked inside, finding Tommy eating out of an old pudding cup, then he laughed awkwardly into the phone, “I lost a bet! I bet with Tommy that he couldn’t poop twice in an hour, but he did!” Damian made up.

“Oh, you had me scared for a second there,” you said in relief. Damian could hear Jason’s voice in the background asking what happened.

“Y/N, I must go now and…feed Tommy. He seems hungry.”

“Well, alright. Call me again if you need help with anything,” You then ended the call.

Damian lifted Tommy out of the trashcan and placed him on the counter, “Don’t you ever pull anything like that again! You had me worried sick!” He scolded the toddler. 

“Oughhh, what is that awful stench?” Damian wretched, “Did you? Oh no..” He sighed and grabbed a diaper from the bag, then grabbed dishwashing gloves and a mouth mask. After he put everything on, he slowly opened up the diaper.

“Ma allaena!” Damian cursed as he threw the diaper away. 

After he changed Tommy’s diaper, he sat on the couch and put the toddler next to him and put the TV on. He figured that a childrens show would be the best choice, but when he put the Bubble Guppies on, Tommy looked less than impressed. So, he flicked through the channels, watching the toddlers reaction to the different shows. Finally, the baby smiled and pointed at the television when it got to some house hunters TV show.

“…Really?” Damian groaned, “Of all the shows.”

For the next 5 hours, Damian and Tommy watched about ten episodes straight of some show with two brothers changing houses, “That is the absolute ugliest rug I have ever seen in my life,” Damian argued with the TV. The baby cooed in agreement. “These people have despicable taste, don’t they?” Damian asked Tommy, who again cooed. 

“Maybe it’s time for bed,” Damian said while looking at the clock on the cable box.

“No!” The baby shouted.

“Do you want a story? A lullaby?” Damian asked while rubbing his eyes. The baby nodded at the word lullaby. “A song? Do you have a specific one you like?” Damian asked him. The baby shook his head no. “Does it have to be in English?” The baby shrugged, probably not knowing what English even is. Damian laid down and brought the toddler towards him, so he was sitting on his chest. Then, he sang him a lullaby in Arabic for a few minutes, trying to make him sleepy.

The next morning you and Jason barged in the front door. Damian wasn’t answering your calls or texts, and you were worried about what might’ve happened after the odd phone call from the evening before. When you both walked into the living room, you found the coffee table covered in popcorn, ice cream, and baby food. Three or four binkies were all over the floor, and Jason accidentally stepped on one.

“Damn, what happened here?” Jason said worriedly.

You walked towards the couch and found Damian snoring quietly with his arm around Tommy, who was laying on top of him. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered and smiled, “How cute!”

Jason walked over and looked down,and laughed quietly, “Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

Damian woke up at the sound of Jason’s laughter, “Hello,” he said in a raspy voice.

“Hi, sleepyhead. You warm up to Tommy?” You smiled.

“Just a tad,” Damian said while rubbing Tommy’s back.

“Good! Maybe you could do this again next weekend,” you clapped your hands together.

Damian grunted and pulled the couch pillow over his head.

I’m Pregnant 

masterlist   requests are open :)

Last Will - Sirius Black

requested by: @weestarmeggie17

prompt23 and 10 and sirius for the 2 part drabble game and love you <3

word count: 786

a/n: ummm yeah so this is a bit sad?? but hopefully still a touch of sweetness….lmao…don’t kill me….it’s a bit rough i’m still blocked but i got this idea and wanted to go with it so here ya go 

situation: post-argument
sentence“I just want you to be happy. With or without me.”

You didn’t mean to. Who keeps important things in a sock drawer, anyway? The answer was your husband, apparently. It was harmless cleaning, or so you thought, but you had found it at the bottom; weighted down by broken wands, random coins, and other useless junk he had thrown in this drawer.

A will and testament.

Keep reading

  • luke skywalker is terrifying. 
  • no, shut up, come back.
  • you have to understand:
  •  to you or me he may not be; he may be all sunshine smiles and corngold hair and the biggest eyes this side of the galaxy, but imagine you’re Dagger (stormtroopers don’t get proper names), firing at a boy, only the bolts never hit. They sing to the side. You think that there’s something wrong with your blaster, maybe, but none of your friends can hit him either. Finest shots in the Empire, you are, but you can’t hit this boy. And he cuts you down. He wields a weapon whose name you’ve never learned and he cuts you down into smoking bloodless bodies and your friends die before you – only he leaves you. Knocks you out with a blow of the Force – and isn’t that a nightmare of its own, unseen hands blotting out your thoughts – leaves you there in the cooling blood of your squadmates.
  •  Imagine that you’re Cara Ilhyre and you’re a dancer for the Hutt and you hate it, of course you do, but it is a living, a living, and this boy comes in, fresh-faced and young and he says surrender or be destroyed only he and you both know that the Hutt do not and never have surrendered and when he says destroy there’s this grin on his lips, thin and sharp, and he’s kind, of course he is, but –
    • so you’re Cara Ilhyre and you’re a native of tattooine and like many of your specis you are force-touched and you were a girl, once, a very little girl, and your mother told you tales of krayt dragons who slumbered beneath the sands and gentled their young to their pearl-heavy breasts. krayt dragons are tender mothers, she had said, and it was meant to teach you something of the duality of nature, or to fear those with young to protect, or something; but all you can think is this boy, how he smiles as kind as your mother did, once, but you’re convinced that if you were to cut him down the middle you would find dragon-pearls in his ribs and fire instead of a heart
    • the boy cuts downs jabba’s goons like they are nothing, nothing, and afterwards, afterwards, you sense his sorrow. and somehow that makes it worse.
    • because you say, later, to your mother’s ghost (maybe) or to the desert, he knows that killing people is hard and that weighs on him and he does it anyway and –
    • and, you say, it isn’t as simple as: he makes the hard choices. he knew the hutt would fight. he wanted to burn them down, oh he did, and that sister of his –

A follow up to this post I made about Renee adding Andrew to the “we love neil” groupchat and Andrew never responding until they hold a competition to see who can take the cutest picture of Neil and he enters with a winner at the last minute.

(both posts of mine are inspired by @local-astronaut’s  a look into Matt’s phone post and the “we love neil” groupchat in it)

(also shoutout to @honoka-san who made a post suggesting Manu Rios as Neil)

Mothers’ Weekend

Hello there! Long time, no see (my bad I know) but, here: an Alicia Zimmermann-centric piece as she goes to Parents’ Weekend during Jack’s freshmen year. [focus on Alicia, Jack, and Shitty] 6k

Somewhere, deep in her heart, Alicia Zimmermann knows she is a bad mother.

It started out as a worry, as maybe it does for all new mothers, that she will be a bad mother. That she won’t know what to do with a baby or a toddler that one day she will accidentally drop him or forget to feed him or feed him something he is actually allergic to or maybe she’ll scar him emotionally somehow and she worried but she survived his childhood okay. And then, after he was five or six, she stopped worrying about it. She thought she was doing pretty good. Jack had hockey and loved hockey and, sure, they didn’t have deep emotional talks but she didn’t exactly have any basis of comparison. Television families told her she was doing okay. No teenage boy wanted to have deep talks with his mother. And, look, if Jack didn’t talk to her all that much as he turned 12 and then 13, at least he was still talking to his father. Mostly still about hockey but she… she thought that had counted. Hockey was like French, to her. Another language she could understand but couldn’t quite speak. But Bob could. He was on top of it. Jack was taken care of.

She loved Jack. That was never the problem. The problem was that her love wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter. It didn’t alert her to any of the facts and maybe it even blinded her– She loved her son and her son loved hockey and so she loved hockey too. She loved her son and then her son seemed to love a boy named Kent and they never talked about it but she let Kent come over all the time and she figured they would discuss it at some point. She just… assumed everything was okay. Even after he was diagnosed with the anxiety disorder and given pills. It was always… well, that was a little problem but it’s handled and under control and everything is okay now.

See. Bad mother.

A good mother would have known somehow.

A good mother would have pushed and prodded or sensed it without even having to be told.

A good mother would have paid attention to how hard Jack was on himself. A good mother would have made sure her son had interests outside of hockey. A good mother would have known that Jack’s long silences after losses weren’t normal. A good mother would have preached balance and fostered friendships with different types of people and stopped the fucking hockey.

She didn’t though. Stop the hockey. No, not Alicia Zimmermann. She encouraged it. She went to the games and cheered the loudest and she even loved it a little bit because she thought it brought him joy, like his father. She bought into the vision: Jack playing hockey like Bob, the Zimmermann legacy continued throughout the ages…

God, she even used to tease Jack about how it took his father three years to win a Cup and she was sure Jack could manage it faster than his old man.

A good mother wouldn’t have done that. So, see, she’s always been a bad mother. Even now, now that she’s almost lost him, now that she’s promised to do better, now that she’s finally read all the books and online articles about anxiety and pressure and the danger of sports and hockey culture… now she’s still just as bad. Just for different reasons.

Now she is a bad mother because it’s Saturday afternoon and he’s been at Samwell for almost three months and she does not feel like mothers are supposed to feel in this moment.

She glances around. At the sea of other mothers and fathers crammed onto Samwell’s campus for Parents’ Weekend. They are not nervous. They are excited. Happy. Enthusiastic. Overjoyed to see the teenager they had left just a couple months ago again. To her right is a father almost (but not quite) breaking into a run to give his son a hug. To her left, a mother has burst into tears. Happy tears.

And then there’s her. She’s not excited to see Jack. Well, no. No, it’s not that she’s not excited. She is. She is. (She is. She repeats it once more just to remind herself). She is just…

She is nervous too. More nervous than she is excited.

Keep reading

From my sister @clibear31’s marine-inspired Resort Collection CONCURRENT :O I haven’t drawn in so long but my love for her work was stronger than my laziness lol

This sucks to write, but I feel like it needs to be said.

The Korean public is not ready for Jinki to return yet. It’s as simple as that.

From all Korean Shawols I have talked with since I got here including those who aren’t Shawols and are just aware of shinee agree that this situation was shitty and have forgiven him for it. They want to see him happy. They want to see him going to the concert. But, the Korean public as a whole isn’t ready for Jinki to come back. He hasn’t even gone through the entire court process yet which, I’ve heard, is long and arduous. In sexual harassment cases, even if the case is dropped, they still have to go through the court system, it’s Korean law.

Think about it this way.. Siwon and the issue with his dog, a little more crazy, right? The woman who passed could have had tons of issues before it got to this point, she could have had other diseases other than what his dog gave her, but that’s not what people see. They see a bad owner who happens to be famous. This was such a national topic, my co-teacher who knows very little about pop bands asked me if I read about it the next day. And, consequentially, Siwon wasn’t apart of the activities with Super Junior this time around despite being in the music video. This was such a national topic when it initially happened, my co-teacher who knows very little about pop bands asked me if I read about it the next day.

If it’s taking time to get over a dog biting a human, it’s going to take a lot longer considering Jinki’s allegations.

And it sucks.

I know it sucks.

I hate it. All the Shawols hate it here too..

I’m mad at his friends for letting him get that drunk and then not protecting him, I’m mad at him getting that drunk in the first place, I’m mad at that woman’s boyfriend for insisting she press charges, but most of all, I’m just downright sad. Recently we had seen a change in Jinki, a more open mind, and heart, and now I’m afraid we won’t see that side of Jinki for a long long time.

On the lighter side of things, I love looking for Shawols are doing to support Jinki and show our love. If you currently go to Jinki’s Instagram, his last post has 93.9k comments and climbing while most of his other posts have around 7 to 10k. Every day I see people requesting pictures of Jinki in my Shawol group kakao chat. It’s these little things that let me know Jinki will have love and support through this whole process, and that’s the most important thing we can take away from this.

Washington Capitals as AO3 Tags

bonus: VGK Schmidty