#...also please look at that mockingbird. it is. So fluffy

[23rdhunter]

felt like Spring today

February 2024

[rjalker]

Hi we still can't get foodstamps so please consider buying some pronouns pins from---

Update August 11th 2023: You can now buy these from my threadless store! Uploading takes a while, so if you don't see a design you like here uploaded, let me know and I'll add it!

So these are all just free icons or whatever the hell else you want to use them for.

Here's some of the designs, and you can request any set of pronouns (or multiple, I can usually fit at least four per pin and have it still be legible) for these backgrounds, on my sideblog @custom-pronoun-pins :)

You are also encouraged to download these (and any other designs on the sideblog) to use as icons, headers, ect!

[ID: Thirty pronoun pin designs.

01: "My pronouns are ae/aer", in a circle in the colors of the xenogender pride flag.

02: "Ask me about my pronouns" in black and white showing a cat sitting under a tree looking at the camera.

03: "Behold! A bun/buns!" with a hand holding up a small rabbit.

04: "My pronouns are byt/byts/bytself", in a background like splashed paint in the abro-gay flag colors.

05: "My pronouns are dey/dem", with a black cat in front of a circular rainbow.

06: "My pronouns are fae/faer", with a rabbit crouching in the grass.

07: "My pronouns are he/it", with the bi flag in the background.

08: "he/she", with the aroace flag in the background.

09: "he/she", with a cute cartoon bat hanging upside down.

10: "he/they", with a collection of spring flowers.

11: "it/its" with half yellow and half black in the background.

12: "ith/kir", on a photo of the almost full moon

13: "My pronouns are: it/its" with a photo of a mockingbird.

14: "My pronouns are leaf/leafs", with fallen leaves.

15: "My pronouns are ne/rix" / "Ne is wearing a pronoun pin. I should ask rix where ne got it!" with a painted rainbow in the background.

16: "My pronouns are pe/per", with a photo of a mourning dove.

17: "My pronouns are rot/rots", in neon lights against a brick wall

18: "My pronouns are rot/rots", with a background of purple stars.

19: "she/her" in green neon like text with a figure wearing Matrix-style clothes and sunglasses.

20: "My pronouns are star/stars/starself" against a photo of the night sky

21: "My pronouns are they/them" in blue neon lights against a brick wall

22: "They/them" in black text against a photo of ocean waves from above

23: "they-vee" on the genderfaer and omni flags

24: "vey/vem", with a photo of a maned wolf

25: "my pronouns are wolf/wolfs" against a photo of the aurora borealis

26: "wolf/wolfs" against a blue sky with fluffy clouds.

27: "My pronouns are wolf/wolfs" against a pink and blue sunset

28: "my pronouns are wolf/wolfs" with a photo of a black wolf standing and looking at the camera

29: "Hello! My pronouns are: xey/xem. Xey are wearing a pronoun pin, xeir pronoun pin is really cool". with a wine-colored nametag design.

30: "My pronouns are zy/zev: example: 'zy has a very cool pronoun pin'". in a gradient from orange to red on a black background.

End ID.]

[angie-likes-to-art]

The Regular

Pairing: Bucky x Barista!Reader

Summary: A slow rainy day at a local cafe picks up when your favorite customer comes in.

Word Count: 659

Warnings: None, just a little fluffy moment

A/N: I’m sorry for another short one, I’m considering starting a series, but i wanna map the plot out before i start writing. In the meantime, please send any requests or aus you wanna see.

Masterlist

It was a slow day at the shop, a rainy Sunday morning, not many people going into work or out to get their coffee, opting to stay in their beds in their warm dry houses. You liked working on days like this, there was no rush of cranky customers already running late for work, just the regulars ordering their drink and quickly leaving or finding a spot to spend their rainy morning. You nodded along to the lo-fi music that complimented the low whir of the machinery on the counters around you. You had been working at the local cafe for almost a year now, opting to open whenever you could, as much as you were overwhelmed by the rushes, the calm moments made up for it, and the free coffee and pastries didn't hurt. You were pulled from your thoughts by the chime of the door. You hopped down from your place on the counter and moved to the register. You looked up, eyes meeting a familiar blue pair, a smile found its way onto your face.

“Good morning Bucky!” you greeted, he was dressed in his usual dark grey Henley, dark jeans, and heavy work boots, he stood out from the neutral browns that the café was decorated with. But, also standing out as your favorite customer, visiting almost every morning you worked, ordering a simple black coffee and sitting at the bar. You usually saw him reading classic literature, scribbling in a small notebook, or struggling with a laptop. Sometimes he’d ask for help attaching a file to an email, or how to search for something. You found it charming, you often checked on him when he was working, just as an excuse to talk to him. “Just a black coffee?” You asked, already knowing the answer. He smiled and nodded before sliding you a five dollar bill, the drink was only $1.50 but you knew not to argue knowing he’d insist that you keep the change. He sat in his usual seat, pulling out The Great Gatsby as you placed a ceramic mug on the coaster in front of him. 

“Gatsby, huh? Didn’t you just start To Kill a Mockingbird?” You teased, pushing at the spine of the book in his metal hand so you could get a better look at the cover.

“On Wednesday, have you read it?” He always asked you when he finished it, if you haven't he’d give it to you and tell you you should, if you have, he’d ask you what you thought and tell you his opinions. You nodded in response, explaining you did back in high school for class. Before he could continue, another guest walked in and ordered a long list of complicated drinks to go. You looked at Bucky one more time before starting the drinks, he gave you a quick smile then continuing to read. As you worked on the drinks, you caught Bucky looking at you then quickly going back to his book a few times, each time you smiled to yourself.

“Something on your mind?” You asked him after handing the tray of drink off.

“Hmm, no,” he dismissed.

“You sure?”

“Yeah”

“Then why do you keep looking at me like you wanna say something?” You pushed with a smirk. He placed the book face down, as to not lose his pace and gave you his signature smirk back.

“When do you get off?” He questioned leaning back on the barstool, turning the empty mug in his hands.

“At 1” You answered, trying to come off as cool and confident, even though your head was stirring.

“Can I take you to lunch?” He tilted his head and leaned back forward, elbows rested on the bar and his eyes staring into yours. You couldn't help but break in a grin and start nodding eagerly. You had been wanting him to ask you out since the first time you laid eyes on him.

[daddies-disappointment]

Movie Night [Ben Hargreeves x Reader]

Request: @killerfrost298 said: Please do a fluffy Ben one please. It takes ages to find them. No Dead Ghost baby please 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

Summary: Movie night with Ben

words: 622

Warning: gender neutral terms used

A/N: I hope you like this. also, I’m not use to writing they/them. I really hope I did this right. If you spot any mistakes please let me know. I am also open to starting a tag list for Tua or a certain character. 

It was late when Ben returned home from a family dinner. Y/N could hear Ben toss his keys aside as he took his shoes off by the door like he did every day. "Baby?"  

"In the bedroom," They yelled, grabbing the clothes they had put on hangers off the bed.

Y/N had been busy cleaning the house and doing laundry while Ben was out with family so the couple could have the weekend chore-free. It's not something Y/N did often, but Ben had been very busy this weekend. They needed to spend uninterrupted time with her man.  

The door opened as they started to hang up the clothes on Ben's side of the closet. Arms snaked around Y/N's waist, pulling them tight against his chest. A kiss on their neck had made them pause and lean their head back against his shoulder.

"How do you feel about a movie night?"  He asked, each word punctuated with a kiss leading up their neck and jaw and ending with a kiss on the lips.

"What movie?" they groaned, combing fingers through his hair.

He nipped just under their jaw before pulling away completely, "To Kill A Mockingbird."

"Yes, Please! I love that movie," They said, turning to see him hold up the case.

"You go pop it in, and I'll get hot chocolate and popcorn," Ben said, handing the movie over and kissing them one last time. He darted out of the room.

Y/N chuckled and hung up the last two shirts. Ben had insisted on watching the movie adaptions of the books they had read together. They had sat down together a few months ago and made a list of movies to watch. They finally had reached the movie Y/N had been waiting for.

They grabbed the comforter off the bed and both of Ben's pillows. They made their way to the couch and dropped them unceremoniously to the floor.

Y/N opened the case and pulling out the Dvd and popped it into the DVD player. They heard Ben sigh seeing the pile they had left on the floor. "Y/N, why are you like this?" He asked, disappointed.

"I put it there for a minute, relax. You finish up with the tv," they snapped, taking the two cups of coffee and bowl of popcorn from Ben.

Y/N set them on the coffee table. They took the pillows and set them on the right side of the couch and placed the comforter at the other end. He hit play on the movie pulling the table closer. They climbed into his lap and crossed their legs.

Halfway through, the couple had finished the hot chocolate and the popcorn. Ben had already laid down sleepily watching the movie while Y/N had moved to the floor with the comforter wrapped around their shoulders.

"Baby, come up here. I'm getting cold," He whined, hitting the back of their head with his foot.

"But Ben, I'm comfy," they complained, looking over at him.

He had his arms crossed and his face in a pout. They huffed and pushed themselves up and adjusted the comforter as they straddled him and dropped forward. "Easy there, you're going to break my ribs," He groaned, wrapping both arms around them.

"You wanted me up here. You have no room to complain." Y/N said, kissing his chin. They moved so they could tuck their head under his chin.

"I will complain all I want. . . But I'm done for today," Ben said, letting his eyes slip closed.

Ben was asleep minutes later.  Y/N managed to stay long enough to see Boo Radley carry an injured Jem away before they fell asleep as well.

[little-treasures-safe]

My mother is an extremely white ginger while my father is 1/4th black, making me a white skined 1/8th mix and we like to say within our household by paper "legally black". For most my life I've been quite about my inheritance. It wasn't intill highschool that I've really started talking about it.

One afternoon as a small kid I was just saying the n-word over and over again, of course my mother told me to stop or she'll put soap in my mouth. I can't remember how I learned the word, maybe a song. But later at night when my dad got back from work he went up to my room and talked to me. He told me so that I understood the meaning behind it enough and asked who are I saying it to sence I was Infact mix, the white side or the black side? I told him the white side.

I think sence it never came up I didn't talk about my mixness for a bit after and then eventually I understood that due to my complexion no one would believe me.

So imagine me staying over a friends friends place and we're all preteens in middle school and your friends friend is just saying the n-word over and over again. This was the first major conflict for me, I said nothing. I wanted to be friends with this person and I knew I didn't look like it should/would bother me so I said nothing. +Sneak in that I once said my dad was like a black Stana to my friends siblings.

Then first year of highschool. Social studies, lesson on the indigenous and their living conditions. We where having an after video discussion, and I wanted to say something about how being mix made me feel about it. I was getting supper nervous and I was scared people wouldn’t believe me and laugh at me. This video did upset me and what I wanted to say was good so I raised my hand. I was called on and I started “*** and being mix-“ *laughter started at the other end of the class and the teacher told them to be quiet “I-it really upsets me t-to..” my fears happened I was laughed at, I got teary eyed and stoped I was about to sob, the teacher asked for me to continue but I said no and i put my head in my arms and started crying. “I knew I shouldn’t have but I still did it, stupid me” the teachers aid asked if I would like to leave the room and I said yes stayed out there till I wasn’t crying and went back in at the end of the class the teacher said to wait outside for a moment and she also asked for the people who laughed to stay in the class. When I was asked inside she asked if I would like to be apologized to because it made me so upset and I said yes but I never got it. Same year, I’ve made new friends and they where great, they where discussing about how life was like to be indigenous. For about five minutes I thought about saying the line “I may not be Native American but I’m not only white.” And I thought it’s because I’m also black I could say that (Please know I have been diagnosed with dyslexia.)and what I say is “I may not be Native American but I’m not only black... SH*T SH*T I MEANT WHITE, WHITE!! everyone’s already laughing. But it’s a funny memory that my friends will never let me forget. From then on my confidence only grew.

Grade 10 English, class book was “To Kill A Mockingbird”. Where like two characters in when my dark skin friend, who was my deck neighbour was talking about how she was uncomfortable about how the white teacher was saying the n-word. And I responded with “I can understand, I’m a little uncomfortable too.” And she says “really?” I said “ya I’m mix.” She goes and ask “is it like you uncle (something like that)” and I said “no my dad is black.” The look on their face. They where surprised, I then showed them a photo of my mother and father together. From then on she would use me as a support like “look I’m not the only one!”. Fast forward to like the beginning of the last part and my other neighbor asks “if you could choose, would you be lighter or darker?” “Darker, even with its problems. The colour of my skin as it is makes me too light to be apart of the mix group and I don’t really want to be apart of the white group because they are the cause of such hatred. So if I was darker at least I would feel like I belong to the group of mix.”

Now grade 11 World issues class, this is where I noticed how much Iess scared I was to talk about it. Of course one person in the back was like “wait who is?? That person?” But I didn’t want to cry but more I just wanted to get my point across. I really liked that class. But also note that it been sometime with my new short hair cut that makes my hair really curly (somewhat Afro like) and people would come up to me and ask things like “what do you put in you hair to make it that way? It’s so fluffy!” And touch it and play with it and I would answer “my dads black” because that was the honest truth I didn’t put anything special on, it was just genetics. Same year law class, I was reunited with the person form my grade 11 English and I made a friend who is native and was also in my world issues class, one day they made a really good point that due to my mother being so white that is why I am.

I’ve now past hiding the fact I am mix and now confronted by a new self image barrier. Now I’m seeing my white skin and seeing the trouble things these people did to others because they thought they where better than them. I see my hands stained with blood form my white ancestors and I feel like people are pointing at me as in I’m the one to blame. Which is in fact true, they are my ancestors. But I also feel this way with all the modern stuff too with cop brutality and tearing down of sacred land. I have this note my friend gave me about how it’s not really like that and I have it in my room to help me. But I’ve yet get pass this because I do know for a fact that every dark skinned person I meet is going to see me as white, and I’ll have to prove I’m mix and it’s just.. I want to be apart of a group.

But I plan to use my white privilege to try to speak up and out for others who can’t.

[frighthouseofalighthouse]

I'M GONNA DO IT TO EM' ALL ASKS THAT YOU REBLOG TONIGHT TILL 10 AM TOMORROW.... DO THEM!!!!

Hey, you had to do it to ‘em! Here they are starting with the most recent.

“Weird asks that say a lot”

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Coffee mugs because you can use them for everything. Teacups are too small for a proper cuppa.

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate bars always.

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Bubblegum, which I miss so much. I haven’t had it in over 2 years bc of my braces

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

I didn’t go to public school but all the adults who dealt with me said I was sociable and tried to get everyone to do the group projects but no one listened so I ended up sitting alone reading and quietly doing the project.

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Glass BOTTLES make it taste superior.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Pastel boho preppy goth best describes my style.

7. earbuds or headphones?

Earbuds, but only rubber tipped ones. The plastic ones never fit in my ears. Also headphones never cover my whole ear right. :/

8. movies or tv shows?

TV shows keep my attention span better.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

Brewing thunderstorms.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

None. But trampoline if I had to pick.

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

Scrambled eggs, peanut butter toast, and some kind of fruit.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

My main one is Things You Love. My one for writing is Queen And Country, and my other two favorites are Summer Songs and A Queen Knows How To Fight A War.

13. lanyard or key ring?

Key ring, lanyards get in the way.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Swedish Fish or Sour Patch Kids.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

OH MAN. To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, Fahrenheit 451, The Grapes Of Wrath, and The Handmaid’s Tale were definitely my top 5 in English class.

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Curled up sideways in an armchair with my legs slung over the arm. Sitting normally sucks.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

Either pair of my black boots, or my pink floral Skechers that I wear to work.

18. ideal weather?

60 degrees, cloudy, windy, with a chance of rain.

19. sleeping position?

On my right side, arms around a fluffy pillow, one leg out straight and the other drawn up with my knee to my chest.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Laptop. I’m trying to exercise my hand and wrist so I don’t tire as quick of notebook writing, though.

21. obsession from childhood?

History, Nancy Drew books, Harry Potter, and ghost stories.

22. role model?

The person I am but don’t think I am.

23. strange habits?

Pulling my shirt collar up over my nose and mouth/putting it in my mouth and chewing on it.

24. favorite crystal?

Amethyst, my birthstone! Close second is blue goldstone. (Have you ever seen it? It looks like the universe. I have a worrystone made of blue goldstone and it’s one of my prized possessions.)

25. first song you remember hearing?

Something from church probably. Outside of church probably one of these: If I Had A Hammer // Peter, Paul and Mary, Puff The Magic Dragon // Peter, Paul and Mary, Scarborough Fair // Simon & Garfunkel, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald // Gordon Lightfoot.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Sit in the shade.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Drink tea, read, and play either Pokemon or Nancy Drew and the Clue Benders Society on my 3DS.

28. five songs to describe you?

The Pines // Roses & Revolutions, I Am Here // Pink, Walk Me Home // Pink, Call Home // Heathers (not the musical), Traveler’s Song // Aviators

29. best way to bond with you?

Talk to me about history, crime, musicals, books, or tv shows

30. places that you find sacred?

Natural swamps. Libraries. Old, overgrown gardens. Anywhere historic. Pine forests at dusk. Anywhere under a clear night sky.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

A plaid shirt, black leggings, and black boots with dark neutral lipstick and a black choker.

32. top five favorite vines?

Fre she vocado, BENTLEY NOOOOO, uhhh I sure hope it does, the one of Lin Manuel-Miranda trying to brainstorm, and this bitch empty YEEt

33. most used phrase in your phone?

Idk how to find this out

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

Idk if this is just a local thing here but WOW ITS NATURESTONE

35. average time you fall asleep?

12-1 nowadays.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

I can haz cheezburger

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

Depends. Suitcase for things like my laptop that are better protected than in a duffel bag, but duffel bag otherwise because they’re easier to carry.

38. lemonade or tea?

TEAAAAA

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Both please

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

My house? We had a safe word when we did math. It was “quokka.” If we got overwhelmed we’d say it and then stop and look at pictures of quokkas.

41. last person you texted?

My friend and coworker.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Jacket pockets.

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Cardigan or hoodie

44. favorite scent for soap?

Lavender

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy. It takes me a bit to get into fantasy books usually, but sci-fi is hard to follow and superhero is mostly predictable.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Fuzzy pants and a t shirt

47. favorite type of cheese?

Muenster, parmesan, or goat cheese

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Raspberry

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

“I have no country to fight for. My country is the earth, and I am a citizen of this world.” - Eugene V. Debs

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

A weird local political ad a couple years back.

51. current stresses?

My recent breakup, an overnight shift I work on Wednesday night, and trying to find time to go out to a corn maze with my friend.

52. favorite font?

Baskerville or Georgia.

53. what is the current state of your hands?

Covered in small cuts and scrapes from work, nails picked short, black nail polish mostly peeled off.

54. what did you learn from your first job?

babysitting job: Kids suck never have more than one. Retail job: being on your fee it hardddd

55. favorite fairy tale?

Beauty and the Beast or Rapunzel

56. favorite tradition?

Looking at Halloween decorations

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

Cutting, being manipulated by my dad, and letting other people make me believe I wasn’t good enough (still working on that one)

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

Writing, puzzle-solving, singing, and calligraphy

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

“Oh shit waddup”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

One of those preppy gothic private school animes with a dark secret lurking around the corner

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

Book: “Ignoring isn’t the same as ignorance. You have to work at it.” - The Handmaid’s Tale. Movie: “It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.” - Wonder Woman. TV Show: “I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself.” - Doctor Who.

62. seven characters you relate to?

Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Remus Lupin, Richard Gansey III, Blue Sargent, Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury.

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Same five that I said describe me.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

Webkinz and the old American Girl site circa 2009.

65. any permanent scars?

One down my chest from heart surgery as a baby, lots from self harm on my arms/legs, some on my left knee from falling as a kid, and one on the back of my right heel from being pecked by a goose at the fair when I was 11.

66. favorite flower(s)?

Sunflowers, roses, and dahlias.

67. good luck charms?

Myself.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Ranch anything.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Jellyfish have no brains and no heart.

70. left or right handed?

I’m third generation left handed!

71. least favorite pattern?

Vertical stripes.

72. worst subject?

Math.

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Wendy’s fries and chocolate frosty.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

7. Usually I just ignore it because I have a “high pain tolerance” (which means I like to put myself through minor pains because I think I deserve it)

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

Age 5. I was trying to blow up an inflatable ball and it came out.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

ALL POTATOES EXCEPT POTATO SALAD

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

Violets.

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Neither, both suck equally.

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

Never had a school id so I guess the license

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Earth tones for me

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

...They are literally the same thing

82. pc or console?

PC

83. writing or drawing?

Writing. I absolutely cannot draw.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Podcasts, talk radio is so obnoxious.

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Barbie. The clothes are easier to take on and off. I used to accidentally rip polly pocket clothes all the time.

85. fairy tales or mythology?

Mythology. I like it because it explains things, it’s creation stories, its origins. Fairy tales are just fantasies or cautionary tales.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies.

87. your greatest fear?

Rejection, drowning, and clowns.

88. your greatest wish?

To be a semi-successful author and historian.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

My mom.

90. luckiest mistake?

Not succeeding in killing myself!

91. boxes or bags?

Bags.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Dim lamps if they have yellow bulbs. I hate white lights. And also fairy lights yes please.

93. nicknames?

Ellie, Ell, Little Lion, Lioness.

94. favorite season?

FALLLLL

95. favorite app on your phone?

Tumblr, Spotify, or Instagram.

96. desktop background?

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

6.

98. favorite historical era?

Revolutionary War-era America or late Victorian England.

THIS GOT REALLY LONG AND I DONT WANNA HIT THE TEXT BLOCK LIMIT SO IMMA DO ALL THE HALLOWEEN ONES SEPARATELY, MAYBE IN THE MORNING.

[jennygirl2014]

Six-Inch Kickers *A Steve Rogers multishot*

****Okay, so here is a little fun for what very few readers I have left lol I haven’t written anything in a long time. I know that, I’m sorry.  Here is a little drabble I wrote up but never finished! So...for the fun...I’m posting it. AND I want YOU GUYS to message me with ideas on how it should end.  I will (and I promise I will) finish the fic with the best answer I get! So, be creative, be dirty, be fun, be fluffy, give it your best shot.  Don’t be too brutal, this was written almost 2 years ago lol oh and fair warning, this has some adult language, adult themes and some hints of smut. Not really NSFW, but almost.

Part 1

              The music was a little too loud for my liking, ringing in my ears and making the room vibrate.  I had been in this scene before, only it was nowhere near as glamorous as this.  After deciding to turn my life around I had grown adventurous and applied for a job at Stark Industries which I never thought I would get, or even consider myself. And yet, somehow it happened, and here I was, sitting behind a desk for nine hours a day in the best version of office apparel I could put together, and a loaded 22 concealed at all times. Having the gun of course just made me feel like a badass, I didn’t expect to ever use it, and I hoped I would never need to.  Sometimes after a nine-hour shift there would be these rooftop parties, and it only made sense to go.  Not only did I meet some of the most interesting people, but I was lucky enough to have my own suite in the building, and the music would keep me up anyway so it only made sense to attend these things.  Times weren’t always this fun, after running away from home as a teenager and trying to support myself but failing I had ended up with five roommates in a small apartment, and a job that had me dancing on a pole wearing heels and nothing else.  Now, I had my own cozy king size bed and a breathtaking view of the city. 

              If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was how to pick out a good outfit, and for these parties I had to look as good as I wanted to feel.  I was used to those high heels from back in the day, and although I wasn’t required to wear those six -inch kickers, I usually settled on three or four, or five. I was feeling daring and took the old black strappy ones out, just to show off that I could still walk in them.  A simple purple wrap dress was what I chose to sport, because it looks sophisticated and yet casual, and it’s easy to slip out of if need be.  Was I trying to catch someone’s eye?  Yeah, maybe, but not just anyone, I had my target on lock for one man in particular.  I’m sure many women there were hoping for the same, but lucky for me, we had already been getting close in the past few months.  Although I was worried that we were staring to cross into that dreaded friend-zone.  I’m not an over confident woman, if anything I am the opposite, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t try and get what I wanted.  The truth was I was kind of lonely, it was hard for me to let people in, and the man that I was secretly admiring just happened to be in the same boat.  

“I’ll take a cosmo with three cherries, please.” I asked the bartender for my drink of choice while I leaned against the counter.  I looked around the room a bit as I waited, hoping to see the familiar face I had been looking forward to seeing, but when I was out of luck I turned my attention to my drink and it was set in front of me.  I took a few sips, minding my own business, when I heard his voice from behind me.

“Hey there,” Captain Steve Rogers’ voice broke my concentration, and I smiled before looking to my right to see him strolling up.  He casually rested his arm against the bar and leaned in with a breathtaking smile.  His teeth were so perfect, and his smile was like sunshine.  Yes, when it came to Captain America I was like a little school girl with a silly, knee knocking crush.  Well, except for the adult voice in my brain constantly reminding me how badly I wanted to rip his shirt off and ride him ten different ways to Christmas.

“Captain Rogers,” I addressed him with a sly smirk while lifting my drink to my lips.

“Emma, I keep telling you to call me Steve.” He chuckled, and I noticed his eyes falling directly onto my cherry colors lips.  

“Sorry,” I apologized after taking a satisfying sip, “Keeps slipping my mind.”

“Look at you all dolled up.” He made what sounded like a compliment and I felt my cheeks starting to go rosy.  

“Well, you know, can’t show up to these things in my pajamas.” I joked, and then he cut a playfully suspicious eye at me.

“Did you get taller?” he asked with a smirk. I bent my knee and lifted my foot to show him my fancy high heels.  “Ah, that explains it.” He smiled at me once he brought his gaze back to my face.  I had to convince myself that he was looking at my scandalous shoes, not my ass. “Do you enjoy coming to these things?”

“I do,” I sighed a bit, “But it felt like a good night to curl up and watch a good movie.” I admitted.

“So what’s stopping you?” he asked me innocently.

“The noise,” I shrugged, “But I also just felt like interacting a bit.  It can get a bit lonely sitting behind that desk all day.”

“What kind of movies do you like?” he went back to the previous topic.

“All kinds I guess, lately I’m really into the classics, like Casablanca, To Kill A Mockingbird. I just got A Star is Born.”

“Really?  I’ve been trying to catch up on my movies but there still is one I haven’t seen.”

“What’s that?” I was genuinely curious to know.

“Pretty Woman.” He admitted, and I dropped my jaw in shock and he laughed, “Yeah I know, it’s crazy.”

“Well I have it in my collection if you would like to come over some time.” I said without even really thinking, and then it hit me, just how that sounded.  

He had been over to my place once before, but he didn’t stay long.  He had offered to carry a package up to my room for me, and I gave him a glass of water after just to be courteous.  That was about it.  We had bumped into each other on a few occasions while out and about, we ended up having lunch together a week ago when he just happened to be sitting behind me at a local diner.  And then there was that one time he changed my tire while I was stuck at work, and I thanked him with a cup of coffee.  That was about it.  Him being a gentleman, just as one would expect from him, and me repaying him with beverages.  The thought of it all made me realize what a loser I was.  But it’s not like you buy a guy flowers, right?

“Sure, that would be fun.” His eyes lit up at the idea, and it made me smile.  

“Just let me know when.” I told him as I took another sip of my drink.

“Well…do you want to get out of here?” he asked me innocently, and I almost choked on my drink. I wasn’t expecting it to happen so fast.

“Oh,” I had to think of something to say, “Yeah…yeah I guess we could go watch it now.” He must have noticed me hesitating.

“Or we could do it another time.”

“No, no, it’s cool.  I just wasn’t expecting that, but why not?”

“You said it felt like a good night for a movie so I just thought…” he sort of trailed off, maybe realizing it was a bit direct.  I smiled again and chuckled, he was cute when he got flustered.  Typical Steve, not wanting to overstep his boundaries.  

“Yeah, sounds good.” I finished my drink in three swigs, trying to steady my nerves and summon the courage. “But just, give me one minute,” I said as I held up one finger. He nodded and walked away from the bar in the direction of the door.  I leaned over the counter and demanded some more liquid courage, knowing I needed it.  “A double for the road.” I spoke with urgency to the bartender.  He chuckled as he poured me two shots worth of premium vodka in a small glass, and I grabbed it and tossed it back without a second thought. I grimaced as it burned my throat and set the glass down with a clank on the wooden counter.  “Charge it to Mr. Stark’s tab, will ya’?” the bartended chuckled again but nodded.  I knew Tony wouldn’t mind; he had the money after all.  I made my way to the door, still swallowing the burning in my throat, and eventually saw my movie partner at the door.

“Ready to go?” he asked me as he offered his elbow, such a gentleman.  I grinned and slipped my hand onto his strong arm.

“You bet.” I sounded too eager.  We walked away from the booming party, but the sound of my heartbeat booming in my ears still had me shook.

              We took the elevator down a couple floors and with our arms still linked I led him out of the elevator and towards my suite.  We were quiet the entire way, not a word to exchange, which made me wonder if he was slightly nervous about coming back to my place.  I couldn’t imagine that being the actual case, instead I figured he was simply not into the whole party scene, he was a more laid back, old fashioned kind of guy. He liked things quiet, simple, neat and in their place… oh crap.  It had conveniently slipped my mind that my room wasn’t in its nicest state, maybe not even nearly ready for company, especially the company of a highly attractive god-like gentlemanly beefcake.  I darted to the door and stuck my key in the lock but excused myself.

“Just give me a quick moment to, uh…tidy up.  I wasn’t expecting company.” I blushed a bit as I tried to explain myself.  He gave me a warm smile.  

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He offered, but it wasn’t enough to convince me.

“No, no, no…just a moment. Just sixty seconds, I swear.  Count to sixty and I’ll be back out.” I spoke in a rather frantic manner.

“You want me to count to sixty?” he chuckled.

“Yeah!” I opened the door, cracked it just enough to slip inside and then closed the door behind myself so tightly I almost closed my dress in there.  How embarrassing.  

              In a fury I dashed around the apartment, I threw all of my dirty dishes into a heap in the dishwasher, not bothering to place things in there the correct way, then I ran into my bathroom and grabbed all of my dirty clothes off of the floor, bunching them in my arms as I scrambled to the next clothing item on the floor.  By the time I had picked up all of my scattered clothes, my arms were full, and I hastily tossed them all in a basket that I hid in my closet.  My sixty seconds were probably close to being up, so I had to keep moving fast.  In a panic, I threw my covers back into place on my bed, placed the pillows back nicely on the couch and lit a scented candle just to be safe.  I did a quick spin around my apartment, looking for anything I might have missed. No socks, underwear, bras or any other items of clothing on the floor.  No messy dishes out.  Candle lit. Bathroom clean, enough.  No shoes laying around.  Everything was good.  I raced back to the door and flung it open, seeing Steve standing there with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.

“I counted eighty-nine seconds,” he teased me.

“Well, better late than never.” I spoke, slightly out of breath, but I was feeling thankful that I had avoided embarrassing myself with my messy way of living, “Please, come in.” I stepped aside and let him walk through.  He entered, slowly, while looking around my place casually.  

“It’s nice.” He stated. I closed the door behind him and relocked it, just out of habit.  

“It suits me fine.” I replied, trying to make small talk.  I saw him about to kick off his shoes, “Oh, you can keep your clothes on.” I immediately went hot from head to toe at my Freudian slip, “I mean shoes!” I tried to quickly correct myself, but I knew he had heard me.  He turned and looked with his eyebrows raised.

“Oh, good.  I didn’t think taking your clothes off was required.”

“No!” and I laughed, entirely too loud.  I was mentally kicking myself, trying to keep it together. “No, just shoes, but you can leave those on.” I was mortified.  He was turning me into a prattling school girl, when I used to be super smooth. “You can take a seat on the couch.” I motioned over to my plush sofa, just wanting to sit next to him and get the movie rolling to avoid more embarrassment.  He obliged, getting comfortable on one end of the sofa while I found the movie and put the disc in the player.  Without meaning to, I stayed bent over instead of kneeling, and it wasn’t until I stood up that I realized how inappropriate that must have been.  Damn that booze.  At the same time, I knew my dress covered what it had to…barely.  Upon turning around. I saw his eyes quickly dart away. Could it have been that he was looking? Well, I certainly gave him something to look at, that’s for sure.  My ass was my greatest asset back in the day when I used to dance for dollar bills.  But there was no way the modest Captain Rogers was checking out my ass.  “Okay, movie’s in.” I tried to ignore what I had just caught and I took a seat on the other end of the couch, practically a mile away from him.  

“Okay,” he let me know he was ready for the movie to start.  

“Oh, would you like some popcorn?” the thought suddenly occurred to me.

“I don’t want to be any trouble.” He offered.

“No trouble at all. If you don’t want some, I’ll just eat it myself.” I shrugged as I stood back up.  

“Well, it does sound nice.” He admitted.  I had some microwave popcorn hiding somewhere, and after finally finding it in a cabinet, I threw it in the microwave and then rummaged around for something to drink. What would he like?  

“Hey, how does a beer sound?” I offered him beer, since my wine was likely stale.  He had to like beer, right?

“A beer sounds great.” He called back out to me.  I popped the top off two bottles of beers, grabbed a bowl, waited for the popcorn to finish popping before pouring it into the bowl, and then headed back to the couch with everything in hand.  I sat back down and set the two beers and popcorn on the coffee table in front of us.  The movie had already started playing, I missed the first could minutes but I was fine with that. Afterall, I had seen the movie before, this was more about spending time with a certain someone.

              I had just leaned back and got comfortable on the far end of the sofa, leaning against a pillow, when I noticed Steve squirm a bit.  He twisted one way, and then another.  He leaned forward, and then way back, and I was wondering what was going on.  He seemed uncomfortable.  Just as I was about to ask him what was wrong, he sat forward again and turned halfway towards me.  “Feels like there’s something in the couch.” He mentioned to me.  I had to quickly think, I didn’t hide anything back there in my mad dash to clean up, did I? He reached his hand down behind the decorate pillow and into the couch cushion and pulled out something.  It was pink, long, had a ball at the end of it…oh God.

The man was sitting there with my massager in his hand.  

Of all the things to ruin the evening, nothing could have been worse than that.  My mouth went agape and my face flushed a hot, deep red. In the most awkward fashion, to match my embarrassment, he quickly set it down on the couch in between us.  He had to have known what it was.  I saw his cheeks turn a bright pink and he tried to casually wipe his hand down his denim covered leg.  I wanted to sink back into that couch until it swallowed me whole so I could disappear. How could I have forgotten that I put it there the last time I used it?  Why did he have to sit at that end of the couch?  Without a coherent brain cell left in my skull, I uttered the only words that came to mind.

“Oh shit…” and then a pathetic scramble to cover my ass, “That’s not mine.”

[iphoenixrising]

I said I was kind of going on a hiatus. Too many things in my brain pan, but I connected with such a wonderful person, @careamorran, and had to write a thing based on a spectacular piece of art :D The post is here, and I really just wanted a little fun and maybe a little angst ;)

**

The blast of sunlight in his eyes is the conscious train rolling down the track. You know, right at his face.

After his syrupy thoughts evaluated the stabbing to his eyes as something non-lethal, the need to throw something sharp and vaguely bat-shaped at the defenseless windows fades enough that he can squint at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

Dammit.

He and Jay have plans for the day. Partially because it’s been two years today, and since Jason Todd is actually a sentimental cinnamon roll underneath the intense murder you vibe, Tim had managed to wrangle his reluctant significant other into finally getting the new ident set-up. It’s been a long time coming, and they’ve been arguing on and off about seeing to the details for weeks.

(“Things like a driver’s license, Jay.”)

(A careless shrug with a mouth full of meatball sub, “I drive, Timmers. I drive all the time.”)

(“Legally. The key here is legally.”)

His boyfriend had finally caved for their anniversary, and Tim would be damned if they missed the opportunity because of a long night in Gotham’s seedy underworld.

(Black Mask? Totally an ass hat, and no, he gives no shits about ruining the guy’s night. Seriously, fuck him. Mask literally hit on the Red Hood, right in front of him.)

With a soft groan of the newly conscious, Tim sits up, still wavery, and in desperate need of caffeine.

Desperate. Need.

The yawn is jaw-cracking, and he’s already reaching over for the lump of still-snoozing, just a tuft of dark hair peeking out from under their fluffy comforter in Jay’s room at the Manor.

If he grins a little, thinking someone as bad ass as the Red Hood is incredibly cute, well, no one else would ever have to know.

“Jay,” his voice still husky is bordering on fond, “we should get up, it’s late.”

He’s expected the inevitable, “where’s m’ good morning kiss, Timmy?” and to be pulled back down because Jay is really just as bad as Dick when it comes to pre-consciousness cuddling.

The hand moving fast to grab his wrist, to stop him from making contact isn’t necessarily unexpected because of reasons like ingrained instincts and Robin training. The occasional accidental injuries aren’t anything new. At times, it might be things like terrible nightmares or remnants of the Lazarus Pit. On the flip side, it might be residual panic because instead of Kon or Bart or Steph or Bruce, it’s Jason spitting out a mouth full of blood and gripping his harness with wide eyes and stuttering heart.

“Hey, calm down, it’s just--”

And whatever he’d been about to say in the usual soothing way dies in his throat when Jay turns, still in the t-shirt he’d thrown in before they’d fallen into bed last night, and--

Tim’s eyes go wide in shock and surprise.

Who the fuck is in bed with me!?

The set of jawline and ensuing frown is so painfully familiar--

From that time when Tim was a kid with a camera and Robin dove in out of the night to save him from a thug.

A Robin in his prime.

A Robin that’s fifteen instead of twenty-five.

Holy shit, Batman.

“Oh…” is about all his half-wired brain can muster.

Those eyes, the same ones from the painting in the main hall that used to be one of his safe places, the eyes without the green flecks, take stock, roving over Tim’s sleep-mussed hair, his face, his bare throat and chest, his too-big boxers.

And something seems to click.

“WHAAT THE FUUUCK?!!”

Is about as horrified as you can imagine.

The ensuing fight is really anticlimactic. Jason has aged-down equivalently, so while he can still duck, dodge, and fight better than any average person, he doesn’t have memories further than now meanwhile Tim hasn’t lost an ounce of his edge.

“You need to calm it down, Robin,” he tries while blocking a punch that is decidedly lower than what he’s used to. Yeah, throwing out that little bombshell is really a 50/50, but nothing else he can possibly say would help either:

*I’m your boyfriend, and you will be seriously pissed at yourself if you hurt me.

*I was the Robin after you, promise.  I only got pants because those green panties were a hard ‘no.’

*You haven’t tried killing me in a whole year. Can we stop trying to break the record?

As it turns out, maybe he should have because those eyes go wide and the fight takes on a more desperate turn.

Well, fuck.

He catches the knee before it takes out his jaw, his suddenly longer reach catching the much smaller fist in the palm of his hand. “That’s enough, Jay. You’re going to--” get yourself hurt.

But the younger is panting and red-face, gritting his teeth with narrowed eyes, and an obvious plan in the works when he realizes he’s not going to beat Tim.

“Who,” and the tone isn’t as low and growling as the Red Hood, but it still jars Tim right in all the places where he’s still mesmerized by the second Robin, “the fuck are you and how didja find out?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so I’m going to let Bruce and Dick fill you in,” he replies, easing back slowly.

The teenager’s eyes narrow in suspicion.

“How about this then: you hide books all over the Manor. Alfred found A Separate Peace, The Outsiders, 1984, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Once and Future King just to name a few.” He leaves the ones he’s found off the list just because the memories of his post-Robin life are apparently gone, and Tim is in no hurry to fill him in on the horrific events starting with the trip to Ethiopia.

Jason’s mouth falls open in a little ‘o’ of shock.

“One more just so you feel better about this: the first time B got hurt, seriously hurt, defending you, you called Dick at Titan’s Tower in New York.” His hands up in that not dangerous pose, he eases just slightly closer, tilting his head to actually look down. “It was that time with Killer Croc and you were freaked out.”

“How--” the teenager struggles, blinking at him with those blue, blue eyes, all of it without the Pit’s influence riding him.

With that realization, a horrible kind of plan hits Tim right in the brain pan.

“I know you’re Robin, so there’s some evidence, Mister Junior Detective.”

Jay gives him a huffing sneer, “real wise ass, ain’t cha?”

“Learned from the best,” he deadpans with a sad half-smile and fond eyes, “So, I vote we go downstairs, find Alfred so I can have some coffee, and then Bruce so he can have a holy shit moment of his own.”

Still staring at him, still calculating the risks and possible nefarious plots afoot, Jason only follows because he’s planning the best way to take this guy he’d woken up with down (and maybe staring down at his ass) while they went down the grand staircase.

Luckily, as it happens to go in Wayne Manor, at least someone has the patience to deal with things like utter fuckery.

That person will always be Alfred Pennyworth.

“Good morning Master--”

If Tim wasn’t as light and fast on his feet, there would be a whole lot of smashed ceramic all over the floor.

“My-my word, Master...Master Jason?”

“Mornin’ Alf,” the teenager waves a little, grinning sheepishly. “Found Slick here runnin’ the halls, so’s I thought maybe ya know who he is.”

(Slick? Tim arches a brow at that because really)

Alfred blatantly looks over, immediately getting back his usual calm, cool, and collected. “I do hope the scuffle I heard upstairs did not result in any bloodshed on the Turkish carpets, Master Tim.”

“I’m hurt at your complete lack of faith in my kick-ass skills, Alfred,” he waves a hand on his way to the sideboard where wonderful things (like coffee, please, please, please give him coffee to be able to deal with this and what he should very much not tell Jason) waited. He pauses to get his thoughts together, makes a mental Venn Diagram of the potential backlash of both scenarios, and adds cream with a little sugar so he doesn’t down the first mug liked boiling lava.

“I’m Tim Drake. Nice to meet you, by the way. It’s much nicer when we’re not trying to kill each other,” and yeah, that’s Alfred clearing his throat just a little. “I’m also a vigilante, so of course I’ve heard of Robin,” luckily, the way to trip up Jason’s radar is to tell the lie with just enough truth mixed in, “and I do work with Batman sometimes on out-of-town cases. I also do data collection and reconnaissance for the Titans, who I’m sure you’ve at least met at this juncture.” First few desperate sips accomplished, he moves to take a spot at the table and wait until Jason warily joins him, scrappy and scrawny, eyes that take in everything.

And he moves lighter on his feet, without a hell of a lot of burdens and probably a mass of missing scars from things like crowbars and insane psychopaths that deal in megalomaniacal delusions of grandeur. It’s a Jason Tim’s only known with a mask, and it’s a rough moment to stop himself from reaching out across the table to grip those twitchy fingers, but all he can do is swallow his heart back down in the vicinity of his chest, glance at Alfred with a little Batanese using just his eyebrows.

Without giving the his younger boyfriend an opportunity to ask, he cuts in with, “occasionally, B lets me stay over when a case gets...rough. It was last night anyway. I’m sorry I surprised you, but I’d been awake for about seventy-odd hours by then, so I was pretty compromised.”

Pretty much all true.

During the distraction, Alfred turns to busy himself at the sideboard. A glow in Tim’s peripheral is probably the butler texting the fam. B, Come downstairs immediately; Damian, please do not yet come downstairs. I shall bring breakfast up straight away. Dick, your presence would be appreciated at the Manor. It seems we have a situation. To make it a little more obvious he’s being serious, Alfred completely takes advantage of a displaced Jason, too busy staring Tim down from across the table, to snap a discreet picture to follow-up all those texts.

A fresh glass of juice and a side cup of coffee makes some of the tension ease from Jay’s shoulders, “sounds pretty stupid, you feel me? First rule of being a cape: take care a’ yerself. What we got against these crazy assholes? At the end of the day, it’s yer fists and yer brains, so ya gotta make sure ya got enough in ya ta take the beating.”

And it’s a fifteen-year-old Jason pointing a finger at him around his juice and all mock-serious, which it totally why he starts laughing without snorting coffee up his nose. Points for him.

“You are terrible at mocking B in lecture-mode. Terrible,” he shakes his head a little once he’s sure he isn’t going to choke, “more practice, okay? You’ll totally get there, but don’t think you’re ever beating out Dick. He is the official runner-up in the Best Dad Lecture category.”

A heartbeat and Jason starts to crack a grin, laughing out loud in that younger voice, the blue of his eyes without the Pit lingering, without the grim realizations of the day he’s going to die (again). He’s so heartbreakingly innocent of it all (and Tim just wonders how Bruce is going to take this because things like tears and BatDad are going to go down soon--he can feel it).

So by the time Alfred emerges from the kitchen with warm eggs and fluffy waffles, the tension has eased down between the former Robins by the way they throw stories back and forth.

“Yer kiddin’ me,” Jason deadpans back.

“All true, I swear. Freeze and Ivy watched him bust his bat ass--”

“Y’know, there was one time he fell through a crappy roof right inta a ladies’ shower, right?”

“I’m sorry what now?”

“That ain’t what she was thinking, Timmy. Just takin’ a shower and boom, there’s the Bat admiring the decor an’ shit.”

The mental image is enough to get him started all over again, laughing while huddled over his precious, beautiful coffee and lost staring at the fucking beautiful sight of his younger, unburdened significant other. Even better, more evidence in favor of the formulating plan clicks into place with Jason’s easy laugh and wild gestures. But it all comes down to basic facts: fifteen or twenty-five, this is the crazy idiot he loves. And if this is a golden opportunity to give the guy a second chance, one without the Joker and ticking bombs, without being buried alive, and thrown in the Lazarus Pit, it might well be worth the effort.

[prinxietys]

will you please write some cute domestic shiznit about logan takeing baby anxiety to work with him my little heart cant handle all these fluffy feelings

**Anxiety is only about seven months old in this. Also, human AU**

“Are you sure you want to take him? Roman would behave probably much better.”

The two adults looked over to the five year old who was currently coloring in a coloring book…. wait-

“Is that my copy of To Kill A Mockingbird?”

Prince jumped up and ran from the room.

Patton dropped his head into his hand as Logan took the carseat with a sleeping Andrew swaddled within.

“I think I’ll take Ann,” He leaned in to kiss Patton on the cheek, “And Patton?”

“Hmm?” He looked up at the other.

“Ro gets no cookies today.”

There was an offended gasp from around the corner and then the sound of feet running upstairs.

“I-”

“It’s alright,” Patton pat his distressed husbands cheek, “I’ll take care of him; you and Andrew enjoy your days, okay?” 

“Okay, we’ll see you tonight.”

With that, Logan made his leave, making a point to wave up at the glaring child in the second story window, who stuck his tongue out in turn.

Logan sighed. Roman had been up late last night, and was very cranky today. It was definitely best he take Andrew to work with him.

The ride to work was peaceful, a small blessing, but the moment the car stopped in the parking lot, Andrew woke up- fussing and crying.

Logan immediately climbed back in the seats and unstrapped him from the carseat and began to rock him.

When all he did was continue to whine and kick.

Logan tried feeding him, but that wasn’t it. Then he noticed and sighed. Wet diaper.

He carefully opened his door, nodding a hello to his colleagues and ignoring the curious looks of the students trying to figure out what the crying was.

He laid Andrew on the back seat and grabbed the diaper bag that had fallen on the floor and quickly changed him, distracting him with a small bumble bee toy and singing one of his nursery rhymes.

When he was all clean, Ann was distracted with his toy as Logan grabbed a gray boba wrap and put it on before placing Ann gently inside, grabbing both the diaper bag and his work bag and then closing his car door.

No one knew if Professor Sanders was ignoring, or just genuinely didn’t notice, the phone cameras pointed in his direction as he walked across campus towards his classroom, pointing to things and explaining them to his child in a soft tone, laughing and nodding along when Andrew tried throwing together sentences of half formed words and babbled nonsense.

In his classroom, he proceeded as normal. He set his things up, as well as a walker to let Ann sit in and play while he worked before class began.

Students were all over the school stopping in to say hi to teachers kids, but they seemed to spend lots of time outside Mr. Sanders door, snapping many photos.

Andrew was soaking up the attention, smiling and laughing and throwing toys so the students would come in and give him the toy, and then the cycle would start all over again.

When class began, Ann walked around the classroom in his walker, making the students giggle as he ran into desks, chairs, and walls, pulled on shirts only to run away when attention was turned towards him, and stealing papers out of bags and running away with them.

Halfway through the third class of the day, and the fifth hour of being there, Andrew started getting fussy and was throwing things and whining, more than once running into his father’s leg just to run away and pout.

Eventually he went over and hit his leg gently, causing the Professor to look down from his lesson, and sigh when the young boy made grabby hands up at him.

The students watched enthused- not much could make their very-serious-no-funny-business teacher stop teaching. They heard rumors once that he wouldn’t let his class leave when the bell rang because he hadn’t finished his lesson.

He immediately put his marker down, went to his desk to grab his boba wrap and then picked up the upset baby who was stumbling after him, and placed him in the bundled cloth.

Andrew immediately settled when he was leaning against his daddies chest, and Logan returned to his lesson as though nothing had happened.

Andrew stared at the classroom with wide eyes over his father’s shoulder- this was a whole new view. Students waved to him, and he pulled his fist out of his mouth long enough to wave back before hiding in his dads shoulder and giggling.

Logan subconsciously began bouncing him, swaying back and forth as he continued the lesson.

Immediately, cellphones were out and recording him, giggling barely being suppressed by hands. 

When Logan turned around, Andrew was chewing on his tie (brand new, at least fifty dollars) and the classroom all burst into laughter, confusing the teacher greatly.

“Have I missed something?”

~

When Logan pulled into the driveway, Patton and Roman were waiting for him in the front yard, Patton lounged across a blanket, and Roman waiting with his hands clasped behind his back.

When Logan was parked and had taken Ann out of the car, setting him on the ground watching him crawl excitedly towards his other daddy, who scooped him up above him and making airplane noises, Roman came running up and then stopped abruptly at his feet, fidgeting.

“What’s up, Ro?”

He fidgeted a moment more before holding his hands out, thrusting a stack of papers bound together with ribbon up at the parent.

Logan knelt down and took the papers, looking them over as Roman sniffled and stuck out his bottom lip.

“I’m sorry I drew in your book….”

Logan looked down at the book, which was a culmination of crayon drawn images that, after a while of deciphering, told the story of To Kill A Mockingbird.

Well, some of it. Obviously, only the bits Patton deemed appropriate to read to Roman. (They’d read him the whole tale when he was older).

Logan smiled fondly at the book and then looked up at Roman, who looked ready to cry with a frustrated pout.

“Hey now,” Logan placed a hand on the little boys cheek, “No need to cry. I love it, thank you for apologizing.” Roman nodded and wiped at his tears as they fell.

Logan pulled him gently into a hug, holding him on his knee until he felt better.

“Why don’t we go and put this up on my bookcase? Hmm?” 

Logan’s bookcase- that was his prized possession (aside from his family). All of his “don’t touch” books were up there -incidentally, this is where Roman had gotten To Kill A Mockingbird to begin with. To have Roman’s own book up there- The child felt like a Prince.

As Roman lead the way in a march to the front door, Logan happened to look over to see Patton bouncing Andrew in the air.

“Patton, I wouldn’t do that I just fed Ann-” He flinched as the young child was sick all over his husbands shirt.

“Well, that sure was Ann mess,” Patton laughed as he removed his shirt and began cleaning up Andrew.

“That’s not…. Oh,” Logan threw his hands up, but was smiling nonetheless.

There was never a quiet moment around the Sanders household.

And in years to come, when Logic would look up and see that paper book full of crayon drawings, surrounded by classics worth a fortune, yet somehow becoming more valuable than all of his novel’s combined;  he’d remember-

-He wouldn’t have life any other way.