hellooo!! It is I, the totally not suspicious anon❗️❗️
may I humbly request Caregiver Lottie helping a little one who has tantrums? Throwing toys in such. Maybe because reader has to go to bed?
ty!!!!!!!! :3
Cranky Kiddo
Caregiver!Lottie x Little!Reader
anon i could not be happier to write this for you ive been having the craziest cg!lottie brainrot omfg :3
also again sorry this took forever,, finals and everything but im finally done!! so fics will prob come out faster from now on 😋
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★You had a bit of a tendency to bottle up your emotions. It was a huge problem and you knew that. You honestly were working on it because you hated when you had your mini outbursts, but you couldn't help but to have a little tantrum from time to time. 'One step forward, three steps back' you called it though 'gradual progression' was the term Lottie liked to use for it instead.
★You were really happy to have her. She was so patient and calm anytime you had one of your little meltdowns. You always anticipated anger that never came, instead being greeted by gentle words and soft hands.
★One of your strategies for tackling your frustration was coloring. To be fair, it wasn't exactly your idea, more of Lottie's suggestion. Whenever you had a crappy day you drifted off and drew a little picture until your frustrations melted away with the crayon you dragged across the page.
★"Can you come to the table and finish eating please? You can play after."
★Of course, you didn't really like discussing when you had a bad day, so it wasn't Lottie's fault that she didn't know that's what you were doing as she called you to come eat. But that didn't matter because you were little, and frustrated, and holding a box of crayons.
★"Darling? Your food is getting cold-"
★One simple request. Lottie had given you one simple request. And for that you decided it was appropriate to introduce her face to the box of crayons you had in your hands.
★She didn't have nearly enough time to react as you chucked it at her. She brought her hand up to block her face too late as the box exploded like a firework, crayons scattering every which way. She stood a bit shocked for a brief pause, before sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb.
★You were fully prepared for her to be angry, but instead her expression softened and she sat on the ground to meet your eye level.
★"Rough day today, huh?" You didn't respond, but she nodded with understanding as if you had, "You still need to eat love, you might feel better when you do-"
★"I don't wanna!"
★Lottie hummed for a moment, considering this, "You can eat in here if you like?"
★"I..."
★"Just have to be careful, you don't wanna mess up you're drawing. It looks so good so far :)"
★You immediately softened up at her compliment, "You think so?"
★"Of course!" She stood up, ruffling your hair as she did, "I'm gonna get your food, stay here ok?"
★Lottie always knew the right words to help you settle down when you got yourself a little worked up. And it wasn't always her words, it was in her actions too. She knew all the right buttons to push to get you to settle down, even when you were being obnoxiously stubborn and absolutely refusing to let her in.
★"Baby c'mon, a quick bath won't kill you."
★You were less moody, more absolutely determined to not get in the bath. You knew what a bath meant; it meant settling down for the night, which meant bedtime. You were not a fan of bedtime, not when you had so many important things to do, like play with your stuffies and finish watching bluey.
★"Five more minutes."
★"You've been saying that for the part forty five."
It was like a verbal tug of war, with Lottie trying to convince you to go, and you asking for another five minutes. You knew you were winning based on how her eyelids drew heavy and she started to yawn more and more frequently. She was a sleepy person in general, let alone how late it was. If you could just keep this up, she was bound to pass out and leave you to do your own thing.
★"Darling I promise it will be fast-"
★"Nooooooo."
★"Baby,"
★"No!"
★She grumbled, and you could tell you were getting to her, "Don't be a brat-"
★ D:< "Don't call me that!"
★You hated being called a brat, and in her sleepy haze she must've forgotten that. Or maybe she decided to try name calling in an attempt to get a leg above you. Either way, you didn't appreciate it.
★You pouted and turned away from her to break eye contact. Although, after a short beat, something floated through your field of vison. A bubble, gently drifted past you. Your eyes grew wide as you watched it float past, more bubbles parading behind it. You pawed at them, grinning to yourself as they popped, before turning around to locate their source. You aren't quite sure why you were so surprised to see it was Lottie, but you reached out and gestured for her to give you the bottle.
★"Oh, you want these?" you nodded quickly, and she kind of giggled to herself, "You can have them... in the bath."
★The BETRAYAL.
★You turned to look away from her again, as more bubbles gently floated past, some popping on your skin and leaving little wet circles as reminders.
★You wanted them so badly.
★You tried to take the bottle from her, but she jerked her arm up and held them where you couldn't reach. You whined and tried to pull her arm down.
★"Darling these are all yours the second you get in the bath."
★Another thing you hated was letting her win, but you kind of had to admit, the bubbles sort of took priority here.
★"...fine >:("
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Miley Cyrus is thirty,
and I used to think that sounded old
but now it just sounds thirty.
Hannah Montana was my first
pop icon—or obsession.
I remember my shoes, my shirts
with her teenage face printed on
with that flimsy wig—I wanted one
just like it, or of my own.
Just wanted to be
someone different
and older.
And I'm twenty-four now
and I still haven't dyed my hair blonde.
Still a redhead, I'm afraid,
but that made my dead grandmother
very proud.
I remember that 3D concert movie
in third grade premiering in theaters.
You know I wore my favorite shoes to it.
I had to. How could I go out
to the live Hannah Montana experience
without those dirty white sneakers
with a cheap gold paint?
My prized possessions.
And she sang the first song she ever wrote,
"I Miss You," for her grandfather,
and I just thought: Wow, what a big
girl, who can do so much,
make her own music,
sing it in front of millions,
and who has experienced
so much. Now it seems
like not all that much to me.
When Meet Miley Cyrus came out
as a double-album with Hannah Montana 2,
you know I was blasting it in my bedroom,
singing and dancing to those songs
like I wrote 'em. Like they were mine.
I suppose they still are,
and so were Bangerz and Dead Petz for me in high school,
and Younger Now when I was eighteen,
a legal adult but a little baby,
but supposedly not "stuck in East
Northumberland High for the rest of my life"—
I guess people do change. But did I really?
And did Miley really? Surely she did,
she has, over and over again.
Changed genres, sounds, and looks.
Supposedly so have I. I wear bras now,
at least when I go out in public, but
Miley also taught me what
nipple pasties are.
You see? She's an icon,
a legend and an educator,
a role model but never wanted to be one,
was never old enough to be one when she was forced to be.
Miley Cyrus is thirty,
and I'm twenty-four.
Now she says we used to be young.
Can't deny that that's true.
The years go by, though, and we're
still in our same skins, with
new cells, with
changed voices, but still
singing.
"Miley Cyrus is Thirty" - an ekphrastic free verse of "Used to be Young" (2023) by Miley Cyrus, written 8/26/2023
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