#just spit out of my cheerios

[dewarism]

HE'S ALIVE!!!!!

[cvpiddszn]

𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐤 | 𝐣.𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

a/n: sorry for the lack of content. happy to be back posting my favourite couple

summary: having to explain how babies are made to two five year olds isn't easy.

warnings: children

word count: 1.2k

birdie & jack masterlist

Seven months later

"Mommy?" Little Lake was munching on his Cheerios, his eyes trained on me, a full-on question. I nearly brushed my hand through his brown hair, it was well overdue that we needed a haircut (Jack included). Lake’s hair was beginning to curl at the ends, while Lowen’s had taken longer considering the gum that he had gotten stuck in his hair a couple of months before. 

Switching Amara on my other hip as she held her apple sauce drink in her hands squeezing at the package in hopes that she would be able to suck out anything else. “Yes, baby?” I asked, pulling the drink from the little blonde’s hands to which she whined, I shook my head at her and she made grabby hands towards her father.

Jack only smiled at the girl, taking her from my arms before setting her on his lap so that he could finish eating his toast. He held it out to the little girl to which she nearly bit off his finger while eating it. I leaned down kissing the little girl’s cheek whispering a soft, “good girl” watching as Jack gave me a glare.

Jack was sipping at his apple juice, since he loved it so much, claiming that it was better than orange juice (yes, I argued with him multiple times that orange juice was better). Amara watched her Dad and reached for her cup beginning to drink at it too.

“Where do babies come from?” Lake asked, his voice full of concern as his twin perked up at the question eager to also find out. 

Jack spit out his juice at the question, while I paused watching my husband and then the little girl in his arms follow exactly what her father did, spitting out her juice and then giggling but Jack was so stunned that he didn’t notice the spill on his leg. 

“Jack!” I scolded, tapping his shoulder rather harshly, face cloth in hand wiping at our daughter’s face where she decided that she needed to spit out her drink. I pulled her from his lap, to which her bottom lip came out, missing her father’s arms already. 

Jack coughed, trying to regain his breath. The boys looked toward their father who only sputtered, they looked at me next. Wide innocent eyes and I debated on what I should do, whether it was appropriate or not. We had promised that we wouldn’t lie to our boys but we had already played along with Santa, the Easter Bunny and many other mythical creatures, plus were they truly old enough to understand any of it yet?

Within their childhood, I had already had one kid, another one only four weeks old in my stomach. We had told the boys as quickly as Jack had found out, we knew that it was inevitable that the boys would find out, and they treated their little sister so well, what was one more? 

My husband looked toward me for guidance and I shrugged. “They’re boys, J. Mara and I will just understand each other won’t we, sweet girl?” I cooed at her to which she smiled at me at the newfound nickname. I knew that I would take my twelve months leave with the new baby, Amara wouldn’t be with the Nanny for too long if you counted eight more months. 

Amara grabbed onto my nose, squeezing softly, her small nails pressing into the skin and I shook my head at her. The three boys sat at the table, seemingly waiting for me to say something but it was only a couple of days ago that Jack had complained that he wanted more time with the boys, saying that they clung onto me way too much (which was very true). 

I sighed at the silence, my free hand placing itself on my husband’s shoulders. “You boys actually want to know?” I whispered loudly like it was some secret and even Jack gave a confused look eager to hear me out. The twins nodded eagerly, wide eyes and practically on the edge of their seats with how excited they looked knowing some secrets. “Truth is, there are such things as storks that come to drop off babies at hospitals. We sign a bunch of forms, they run some tests on the mommies to make sure that it’s her baby, and we get to go home with the baby.”

My husband raised his brow at me, looking towards the boys whose mouths made an ‘o’ shape as if it was the realization. “That makes a lot of sense, Annabelle was telling me that it had to do with ‘the birds and the bees’. I don’t know what she meant.” Lowen explained, to which Lake nodded along. The two got out of their seats walking towards their lunches to grab them and make their way into the car.

Jack also stood up from his spot, kissing my cheek and then Amara’s, “Nice save,” He commented, and I only grinned in response, tapping my lips gently so he could get the hint. He didn’t waste another second stealing a kiss from me, hoping to make it last but Amara pushed his face away. Pursing her own lips in an attempt. I laughed at the girl, adjusting her higher on my hip watching as my husband kissed the little girl on her lips as she smiled satisfied.

“Did you get a kiss from Daddy, sweet girl? Hm?” I asked her as she gurgled in response. Surprisingly she hadn’t said her first word but there were many bets placed between our families that her first word would be “Dada” or something along the lines but I knew that it was going to be something else. Call it mother’s instinct if you will. I looked towards Jack who had seemed to admire us, “You’re going to make the boys late, J. You’ll be back with your girl right after you drop off the boys.”

“My girls, you mean.” He corrected me and I gave him an adoring look before placing my hand on his back, nudging him forward hinting towards the time. He only nodded in response, kissing my cheek briefly before racing out the door.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Mrs, Laurier, we had an incident today.” Lake’s teacher, Miss. Calvin, walked up to me as the boys were ushered into the SUV beginning to talk amongst each other. We had thought that it was best that to separate the boys young, it gave them more to talk about in the car and sometimes twins created more chaos together rather than separately.

My brows raised, motioning her to continue as I closed the car door. “There was an argument that broke out between some kids, including Lake. Something about that storks were bringing his new sibling? Our Principal said that we don’t condone lying so we’re going to need you to tell your boy that he’s wrong.” She explained a nervous smile on her face that told me, she didn’t believe in anything she was saying. 

I barely even paused shrugging my shoulders, “Okay,” Was the only thing I said before walking to the other side of the vehicle. 

She waved at me, smiling, “See you tomorrow!”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” I mumbled pulling out of the pick-up area, biting the inside of my cheek. Holding me back from parking and storming into the Principal’s office and screaming at her. Who were teachers to tell parents how to parent their children? We certainly don’t tell them how to do their job.

There was no way I was going back to that place, and Jack would agree as he always did

[starryeyeddreamer21]

Characters as things I've said/heard people say

I went to the fair with my family so you get this

---

Angel: No regrets, if we die good riddance

----

Cherri: I would strap myself to a bomb for fun

----

Charlie: I haven't pet a cow in too long I think

----

Vaggie: *furious* All because I can't crochet

----

Husk: if I was a goat I'd uhhh umm I don't know I'd probably just be a goat... Sleep maybe?

----

Angel: I'm going to touch your ankles

Husk: What are you, some kind of Victorian pervert?

----

Charlie: *gasping and pointing to a sign* SUPER FRIED CHICKEN

Angel: Lame I want super SUPER fried chicken

----

Alastor: *watching pork roast* Gorgeous

----

Charlie: *feeding Vaggie* here comes the airplane

Alastor: ... That was embarrassing for both of you

----

Vaggie: *watching a man dressed as a cockroach walk by* The men have started morphing into their true forms

----

Cherri: Wouldn't it be funny if this place got set on fire

Charlie: No??? There would be a stampede

Cherri: Oh damn I would die

Charlie: No, you would stampede?

Cherri: I wouldn't run

Charlie: *sigh* yeah, of course not

----

Sir Pentious: If I died on a rollercoaster my last words would be "Wahoo"

----

Nifty: I need to destroy, I need to rip something to shreds with my bare hands

----

Lucifer and his Candy apple adventures a saga:

Lucifer: *holding a candy apple* oh hell yeah I'm gonna fuck this shit UP

-

Lucifer: *spits seed at Alastor*

Alastor: *doesn't notice*

Lucifer: *spits seed at Alastor*

Alastor: *looks around* ???

Lucifer: *spits seed at Alastor*

Alastor: *looks back at him* What are you doing?

Lucifer: Huh?

Lucifer: *spits seed at Alastor*

Alastor: WILL YOU STOP

Lucifer: What are you talking about????

Alastor: You're throwing something in my hair and on my shoulders and back-

Lucifer: *singing* head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes!

(my sister never figured out what I was doing 💀)

-

Lucifer: *still eating his candy apple* Why am I eating this like a chicken wing?

Charlie: Is that not how you're supposed to eat it?

Lucifer: You are absolutely right

-

Lucifer: *covered in candy apple* I'm sticky 🥺

-

Lucifer: *done with his candy apple but still chewing on the stick*

Alastor: *takes a bite of a mozzarella stick*

Lucifer: *gasps* MOZZARELLA STICKS

Alastor: *dips mozzarella sticks in marinara sauce and holds it out to Lucifer*

Lucifer: *reaches for it*

Alastor: *takes it back and glares*

Lucifer: what? oh- weirdo *eats it from his hand*

----

Lucifer: Can you bring me to the bathroom?

Alastor: I'm not carrying you

Lucifer: *rolls eyes* can you walk me to the-

Alastor: I might be able to find you a little red wagon

Lucifer: I'm going to punch you

----

Cherri: Froot loops are just-

Angel: *nods seriously* Gay Cheerios

----

Charlie: I need to find a bathroom to cry in asap

----

Vaggie: She's either drunk or high off something

Angel: I think it would be easier if I was high

----

Charlie: All I can smell is weed

Angel and Cherri: *deep inhale*

Charlie: NO

----

Alastor: Ugh there are so many people

Lucifer: I know I'm dying

----

Angel: *gasp* MY PHONE IS ON ONE PERCENT

Alastor: *completely monotone* oh no the horrors

----

Stranger: Is that your dad?

Husk: Do I look that old?

Angel: No, we're married

Stranger: Oh... you're married

Angel: *laughing* No

Husk: DO I LOOK THAT OLD????

----

Lucifer: *singing along* I can count on you like 4 3 2 you'll be there

Alastor: No I'd leave you

Lucifer: Yeah I know

Alastor: Like everyone else

Lucifer: oh

----

Nifty: *staring at crystals* Do I think they could heal me? No, I am beyond repair. Do I think they're so so so so pretty? YES!!! I NEED THEM

----

Lucifer: *overstimulated, angry, and grinning with tears in his eyes* I wish I could enjoy things

---

[according2thelore]

Does LS/ES Sam or Dean have conversations with their respective selfs about their partner like, "So, Sammy *still* does that thing in his sleep?" or "Please tell me LS!Dean grew out of that WildWest fixation".

GAHHHH ANON AHHHHH!!!!!!!!

LS!Dean sits at the library table, and ES!Sam & LS!Sam are sitting at the table in the corner, helping translate some more obscure lore. LS!Dean is tapping his pen on the table, and they can both tell it gets on their nerves as the incessant taptaptaptaptaptap of whatever metal song dean has stuck in his head echoes in the room.

"so discouraging to know he still does that," ES!Sam says, mouth twisted down in disgust, and LS!Sam hides his snort behind his palm. ES!Sam turns to LS!Sam, and sees the familiar judgemental, gleeful glint in his eye, and asks,

"does he still insist on keeping all his socks that are way past their expiry date?"

ES!Dean has a nasty habit of keeping his socks from the fruit of the loom six packs that are now grey or beige with age and have so many holes they could be used as leg warmers. they're perfectly good, sammy, dean insists, even as he wears blisters into his toes from his boots.

"turns out he doesn't just do it with his socks," LS!Sam says, somber, "it's his boxers, too."

ES!Sam recoils, but realizes unless dean put them in the laundry pile, he'd have no idea. LS!Sam gestures for him to get closer, and ES!Sam bends closer to hear him.

"i've had to start sneaking them out of his dresser. i found boxers last week that was just a square of fabric held to a triangle of fabric with one string. it was basically just a thong at that point."

ES!Sam bursts into laughter, shocking them both, and they talk for an hour about the dumb thing that their brother did, still does, and will in all likelihood continue to do.

yes, unfortunately, dean still has his wild west obsession. sam has found it is most productive if he can get dean to vent all his obsession for it into sam wearing a cowboy hat and/or assless chaps during sex once a month and let him spit-fuck him, and ES!Sam's jaw drops comically. no, actually, dean doesn't put that much sugar in his coffee anymore. he drinks it black. they both look a little uncomfortable about it before they confirm that indeed, dean still sneezes without covering his mouth--it's gross.

and yes--the tips of LS!Sam's ears flush when he says it--dean still flirts with people using that facial dumb expression of his but uh...he mostly uses it on sam, now. unfortunately, it usually works.

a week later, ES!Dean shuffles into the kitchen clearly exhausted, and when LS!Dean asks him what pissed in his cheerios, ES!Dean tells him ES!Sam was snuffling and muttering in his sleep again and the noise from the bed over kept waking him up.

"ugh!" LS!Dean says, "what's he stressed about?"

ES!Dean is kinda taken aback but yeah, it makes sense that he also picked up on the pattern, i mean, hell, it's him. ES!Dean shrugs.

"ionknow. but i'm two seconds away from taping his mouth shut. he keeps smacking his lips and it drives me nuts."

"two words," LS!Dean says, going to pour himself another cup of coffee, "oral fixation."

ES!Dean almost falls out of his stool. "fucking pardon??"

"yeah." LS!Dean shrugs. "he just wants stuff in his mouth. for a while he'd sleep with his face pressed against my shoulder, i think just to feel something on his mouth. he sleeps better when you start sharing a bed, though, so..."

ES!Dean looks like someone just hit him over the head, dazed.

"whenever he starts mutterin, i just roll over and throw an arm over him and he sleeps like a baby." LS!Dean takes a long, satisfying sip of his coffee, too pleased by the gobsmacked look on ES!Dean's face to care that it scorches his tongue.

"does..." ES!Dean clears his throat, shaking his head. he almost wants to say Stop Talking About Him Like That but stops himself in time. he forgets it's him he's talkin to. "does he still do that thing where he pushes his mouth up when he's concentrated."

LS!Dean softens. "oh yeah, he does. and he looks like a toddler every time." a pause. "i...uh, keep expecting look up and see him sitting there with bunky."

ES!Dean lights up. "oh shit!! bunky! i forgot about that raggedy thing."

bunky, of course, being a stuffed rabbit that pastor jim gave sam, and with which sam was obsessed for a few years. their talk is a bit more nostalgic, talking about things baby sam used to do that they notice adult sam doing now, including rub his eye with the back of his fingers when he gets tired.

"does sam ever get that stick outta his ass?" ES!Dean asks, and they're both grinning so big, high off being able to talk about sammy with someone who gets it, who knows him.

"nope." LS!Dean beams. "he stays our little pain in the ass forever."

they both kinda freeze, then turn to look at each other. our.

huh.

i had so much fun with this one omg your mind is so HUGE ANON AGHHHHHH!!!!!!!! thank you so much for sending it in mwah mwah mwah

-lizzy <3

(ES/LS verse masterlist)

[tmntartblock]

TMNT LEOSAGI AU

FIND ME IN THE FUTURE

Chapter 2: Finding the truth

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After some weeks, after the physical scars had started to heal, Gen, the old friend of Usagi, came to visit unexpectedly. Gen had been part of Usagi’s military but left after disobeying the leaders. Leo had met him only once when he had just left and had the military after him.

“Gen… What are you doing here?” Leo asked. Hope raised in him. Was Gen here to tell that Usagi was safe and everything was just a horrible nightmare?

“Do you have that Earth leaf juice? I need that stuff before I have to flee again. The army is too active on this planet to stay long.”

“You mean tea? Uh, yeah sure”, Leo said and went to put the kettle on. Finally, after pouring everybody a cup, Gen opened his mouth.

“I’ve heard rumours of a prisoner bunny here on Earth. Is that true?”

“Prisoner bunny?” Leo stood from his chair, staring Gen, afraid of what the rhino might say next. Heart was pounding painfully in his chest. Prisoner bunny could only mean-

“I only know of one bunny who visits this Earth”, Gen said, eyeing the turtles that looked all shaken up, except Mikey, who was more focused on devouring his cheerios.

“You mean that backstabber Usagi?” Raph spitted, anger raising in his voice. “He betrayed us with some Foot ninjas couple of weeks ago and left us to die.”

“What? That doesn’t sound like Usagi”, Gen said and emptied his cup.

“I guess you can’t really trust anyone nowadays.”

“He… He sold us out”, Mikey said, voice quiet, trying to make the words hurt less. “Just like that.”

“There was clearly something going on. He said he was not going back to the Realm”, Leo said.

“Maybe they got him”, Gen said. “It was dangerous for him to come here out of all places. They knew where to look for him if he actually decided to leave.”

“So… you are saying he did not betray us?” Donnie asked.

“I can not be for certain. All I know escaping that hellscape is not an easy task and you have to run for the rest of your life. Not stay with your boyfriend.” Gen gave Leo a pitiful look.

“It’s not Leo’s fault that he’s ex is an idiot”, Raph spitted. Leo looked at him angrily. Raph meant good but it hurt that everybody had just accepted that Usagi was a backstabber and it was jus the truth that he didn’t care about Leo.

“Look. My intels told me that there is a bunny, held captive on Earth. That’s all I know and I wished that you would have more information but you clearly don’t. The Realm is breathing on my neck more than in years and I have to look out for myself.” Gen got up. “Thank you for the leaf juice.”

“Thank you for telling us even if it risked your life, Gen”, Donnie said.

“I still care about my friend even though we did not separate in best terms”, Gen stated, melancholy in his voice. “I can’t wait for the day that the Realm falls finally and we all will be free. Good bye.”

Gen created a portal and disappeared, probably as far as possible. Leo had no time to feel bad for the rhino because all he could think about was that the worst betrayal of his life might not be true at all. He hadn’t sleep for weeks. He had felt anger, shame, sadness, everything in a rollercoaster and all at once. Questioning all the love that he had so blindly felt. And now all those feelings were insignificant. Usagi was probably captured. Being tortured. Weeks of the anger turned to shame. How he could have believed such things of Usagi. Leo knew him better. Leo knew how honourable, how loyal and caring he was. And that one moment let him threw out all of that.

Leo felt hesitant. He remembered how Usagi had looked at him. Directly into his eyes. There had not been any fear, no hesitation. Leo was hurt and Usagi did nothing to help. Maybe Leo had read the whole situation wrong.

He had made a mistake. Why hadn’t he gone after him immediately?

“Leonardo. What are you going to do?” master Splinter asked with his husky voice. He had stayed on the side, like he nowadays did most of the times. Time had done its work and master Splinter had grown weaker. He only could stand ten minutes at the time without shaking.

“I will fix this”, Leo said and looked at his father with determination. Weeks of hopelessness turned into new purpose. “I will start my search in New York.”

“You can’t just leave us for your own little missions!” Raph yelled and pushed Leo’s shoulder. “Foot ninjas could attack any time!”

“You basically demolished them, Raph. They are not coming back any time soon. They don’t have a leader. You made sure of that.” Why Raph always wanted to push him back?

“You don’t know how fast they can reorganize themselves again. You’ve seen they don’t go down easy.”

“I have to do this Raph. I have to safe Usagi. Don’t do this any harder than it already is.”

“He left. Willingly. You saw it. Gen is full of shit.”

“Gen said that there are rumours of a bunny prisoner held hostage on Earth. Who else could it be?”

That shutted up Raph, for now.

Leo started to attack the scattered Foot ninjas, trying to get any information out of them but nobody seemed to know anything about a bunny prisoner even a sword on their throat.

After weeks of inspection, Leo came to the conclusion that Usagi was not in New York. The only other option seemed to be going to Japan, to Tokyo. Raph was not happy, he yelled at Leo for being irresponsible. Leo couldn’t give a damn about Raph’s opinion: Raph didn’t know what real responsibility was. He had never had to make the tough calls and gave bullshit for Leo for doing so. Master Splinter didn’t seem happy either. But for years now he had chosen to give advice to only when asked for it, so his words meant nothing now. The responsibility of the family was put on Leo and he was going to use it. Wether others liked it or not.

It wasn’t easy to leave them all on their own. The last time he had done it, he had to rush back to ruins, thinking that he’s brothers were dead. But his brothers were competent. They’d survive. The Foot was no threat anymore and Donnie had a good surveillance system. The family was safe. With these thoughts he packed a little bag and left, unsure of when he would return. He only knew he could not return without Usagi.

Leo had always wished to visit Japan but this way wasn’t the most pleasant. Tokyo was huge, full of possibilities and dangers. With his elementary level Japanese Leo barely survived and he had no help to gather any information about anything so he had to go in places cold turkey. That meant the stakes were higher, the risk of dying being more imminent than ever.

But Leo knew that he could not give up. Somebody had to know something. Leo attacked ninjas, trying to gather any valuable clues but again, nobody knew anything. He infiltrated the headquarters, searched every single prisoner cell but nothing. He wanted to give up. To go home to his family. But he couldn’t. Fear of failure burned through his veins.

Finally, after months and months of constant attacks from Leo, the head of the Japan Foot clan quelled after a fight and told that they had a deal to help transfer a bunny through a portal. They had forced Usagi to make a deal. Leo tried his best not to have the anger overconsume his senses. The blade of his katana was shaking on the neck of the leader.

“Does that ease your mind, reptilian? His freedom for your life.”

It did, for a second. But that meant Leo had been wrong and it may had costed Usagi’s life.

That’s it. There was no other information. They did not know anything else, the Foot didn’t ask questions for that good amount of money. Leo believed.

Leo went back home, defeated. Usagi was not anywhere on this planet.

The return was difficult. Everyone tried to act like he had not disappeared for months. Leo tried to cover his anger. He tried to act normal. Listen to Mikey’s rampant about his new comic book idea. Sit next to Donnie and hand him over screwdrivers and metal pieces. Let Raph use him as a punching back. But nothing took away the pain.

Disappointment was eating him alive and the only thought consuming his brain was that Usagi was not on Earth.

Usagi was not on Earth.

Usagi was not on Earth.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

previous chapter | next chapter

[sims-half-crazy]

Norman turned 13 and it was like the world had spit in his Cheerios. He and Thomas were fighting nonstop and he turned the radio all the way up all the time. It was grating on his parents' nerves. One day Gordon caught up with him in the hall and asked about the sudden change. "It's just Thomas. He's so aggravating and mean. I know that you and Mom come down on him the same as Frank and I, but it doesn't seem to matter with him! He's just so DIFFICULT! Do you know what he said to me on my birthday? No, you don't. You weren't there. You were at work!"

Gordon knew he'd stepped in it when he'd gotten waylaid at work and missed Norman's birthday dinner, but he'd honestly thought Norman had gotten over it. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday dinner. I should've paid more attention to the time, but it's not like you've never made a mistake either. We've always forgiven you. You were not an easy toddler, but we didn't hold it against you because you were still learning. Humans make mistakes. The key is to figure out if the mistake was intentional or not, and if it was intentional then why was it intentional. You have to ask questions, son."

Norman paused at his father's words and then snidely responded, "Why were you late? What was so much more interesting than seeing me on my birthday?" Gordon's response shocked him because his father's response about a more dynamic braking system to handle how much faster cars were going piqued his interest. The pair of them spent the next hour or more talking about what Gordon had been working on and why it was important. It was one of the best conversations, and Norman would remember it for many years after.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Does anyone have any food habits that’s literally make no fucking sense?

So like its 2 am and my brain has been thinking about this for a while and honestly I feel so bad for my mom, because I know she was right (for once) about certain things that involved food with me growing up.

This turned into me ranting about food.

Like I know that no matter how you cut your toast/sandwich it will taste the same but god damn the triangle cut is the right way. It just tastes wrong when it’s a rectangle or in any other form. (Though with peanut butter sandwiches, crustables are an acceptation)

I also know that Spaghetti sauce that is mixed in with the pasta is exactly the same as it just being place on top of the pasta. But god damn it my brain won’t allow me to eat it if it’s mixed. (Acceptation being when it’s left overs)

Pizza is pizza but circle pizza is superior to sheet pizza fucking fight me

Strawberry Cake pops will and always taste better then regular strawberry cake. (It’s the exact fucking thing different form, and I hate Starbucks cake pops)

Relish is basically pickles but if you even think about bringing that shit near me I will deck you (I love pickles)

Mashed potatoes taste the same whether you mix them with a mixer or not. But, god damn I want them mixed with a mixer even though most times the texture is the same along with flavor.

You can not simply just fucking bake fries and get away with it, they are named fries for a reason so fucking fry them 😡 (for me, I know some people can’t handle grease)

Bananas are bananas but none of them ever taste the same. I know it has to do something with ripeness but for the love of god ice cream shops have the best ones, but if I bite into one and it doesn’t taste right I’m spitting it out.

Trail mixes taste the same whether you eat them randomly or pick and organize all of them and then eat all of the m&m’s first. (Does this stop me from separating it, no)

Anything with coconut can die

Turkey sucks ass on thanksgiving, or the first day it is cooked. It is far superior as left overs even though it’s exactly the same thing.

Eggs are wacky as fuck, scrambled eggs taste amazing and are good for the first two bites and then after it’s immediate regret.

All of Mcdonalds chicken nuggets are the same, but each shape tastes different to me (I worked at Mcdonalds and have cooked and seen with my own eyes that they are all the same)

Anything with the name casserole in it was created from satans balls and deserves to go into purgatory or be force fed to bigots as punishment.

Shepards pie can not be made with cream corn, it just can’t has to be made with regular

Frosting is overrated

Mac and Cheese has to be creamy, for the love of god don’t bake it. (It tastes the same but oh my god)

I can’t eat something sweet with out having something salty after words it’s becoming a problem because there is nothing salty enough in my place

Fruity Pebbles are far superior then coco pebbles

Cheerios are just the boring straight version of fruit loops (spoiler alert no cereal is healthy) ((I could be wrong don’t quote me))

I don’t trust Squash

Pumpkins are overrated but cookies are okay

Banana bread isn’t good without chocolate chips

Also salads aren’t made the same, they have to be at room temp and not wet for me to eat it.

I don’t even know where I went for some of this, I just blacked out and typed 👁️👄👁️ but does anyone else have a weird thing with food? Another one I have is I can’t drink from a can without tapping the top first.

[therentyoupay]

Korra nearly spit out her Cheerios. As she typed, chopped-up banana pieces and flax seeds floated in the milk below, just as her eating plan recommended. Don't worry, she replied immediately, barely noticing as Meelo snuck a piece of her toast off her small plate; his munching sent crumbs flying everywhere, but she hardly cared. I think a few years of camping on snow-capped mountains might have prepped me for a little New England rain. Still, when Pema handed her a couple of chewy gummy vitamins after breakfast—See how they look like gummy bears, Korra? Aren't they cute, Korra? These are my most favorite-est vitamins, ever and ever and ever of all time! You see, they look like candy, but they're really not, which is why I like to bite their little heads off first—she took them without protest. Whether her unnaturally strong immune system was due to genetics or decades of trampling through wild terrain, she couldn't be sure, but she wasn't going to test her luck. Besides, truth be told, the strange intensity that'd been floating around all these runners this past week was actually starting to get her worked up about the meet. It's not like she'd say that out loud, though.

As if on cue, Tahno sent another text her way as she was hurriedly chugging down her orange juice. Don't say I didn't warn you. Still, if you have any hope of sucking less than usual at tomorrow's race, then you should probably make an effort to not be so careless today.

You know, If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sounded concerned, she teased, once she was warm in the car. Ikki and Meelo were fighting over something in the backseat, and Jinora was determinedly trying to ignore them, but Tenzin had had enough. Who knows, perhaps you're just projecting, she texted again, not bothering to wait for a reply. You're not afraid that a little cold might slow you down, are you? Despite Pema's harried concerns, all three kids and the teenager were dropped off at their respective locations with time to spare. Korra offered Tenzin a grateful parting nod as he left her at the corner of the main street, and she paused for a moment to watch him zoom down the busy lane off to work. She laughed aloud as he practically ran a red light.

It was going to be a good day, she decided. The race was tomorrow, and she was feeling… alert. Ready. Not necessarily prepared, but… ready. It was beginning to occur to her that the morning on the morrow was going to be big, and that it could really mean big things for her team. And for the Wolverines' captain.

personal record now on ao3!

[elsadaisywrites]

House of sand

On that bed two lie naked. Old skin, thin and worn. Teeth, jagged and stained. At one point they were a man and a woman. But now, they were lumps under sheets. It’d be nice to hold each other, but then that’d mean they liked each other. She wakes up first. It was somewhere between lunch and dinner. The two most important times of the day. She hated waking up, crawling out of bed, and how stuffy the air was. But she got up, and she went to look at the front door. She looked at the front door, but she was naked. She was naked, so she put on a robe. Sometimes she wondered just what exactly went on the night before. The night before she woke with bruises and sore bones. The night before the sheets got covered in blood, or maybe vomit. But any fool would know what went on. She was a fool, for sure. She just much preferred to wonder. He was still naked, stuck in the sheets. Probably glued there, next to their spoons. 

Under her feet, granules crunched like leaves.

Step, step, step. To the pantry. Get your Cheerios. Step, step, step. Here comes the man. Squash the bug. Get your Cheerios. My man, go get it. Step, step, step. Go make some coffee, honey. If only her father had taught her how to box. So he ate his Cheerios, and he liked the Giants. Watched them as often as she’d let him. She was waiting for her coffee. She poured her cup, sat down. He got up. He got his coffee, and she took the Cheerios, because fuck it. She was up first. He was naked. He was just so naked. She should have stayed in high school. 

If she looked through the steam of the coffee, he was maybe handsome. He was maybe not so thin. He was maybe not so greasy. It’d be nice to pour her coffee on him, let it soak into the sand. It’d be nice if he’d shower. It’d be nice if she smiled. It’d be nice… if for just one goddamn day he was enough. 

That was their lives. That was their whole entire lives. That was it. After her coffee she swept the tiles. Out on to the front porch, as there was too much for a dustpan. Beat the rugs, babe. 

When she woke up, she would look at the door. Then put on her robe. At night they’d get high and she’d lay there. Sometimes she’d pour coffee on him, and sometimes he’d want some Cheerios. He never told her to stay. She never told him that she didn’t like it when he took the Cheerios. Often, she didn’t stay. Always, she would come back. It was love. Take me back. Forgive me. And they did. Too many mistakes, and too many miscarriages. He was sorry, and he was guilty. And when she was naked he just couldn’t help it. And she didn’t care (but she cared). He would come home with flowers, and she would take them. Then, scoop the sand off the table, off the counters. Sand was piled next to the T.V., and he pretended to see the Giants, clear-as-day. Babe, get the rugs.

Once she left, gone for a whole month. He thought it was for good. She must have made up with her mother. He got himself a Pittie, named it Blu. Gentle. Blu was a rescue. One day there she was. Fuck him. The man was just so sorry, he was just so sorry, and he was thankful she came back. Sorry about the dog. Only just a dog. She didn’t think so, and she was wrong. But she ran him over in her rusty Ford. He couldn’t have a thing. He buried the dog in back. Her mother had been dead since June, and the sand started coming back.

When one would get mad they’d whoop the other. Then, she would leave. Then, she’d come back. No friends, and their family was gone, who’d love trash anyway? Other trash would. Slap. slap, slap. No doggy for you. No pittie, no kitty, no rotten old fish. Kick, kick, kick. No job. No degree. They just look at ch’ya too funny. Spit, spit, spit. Your family’s shit. Gobble. Gobble, gobble. You can hobble for awhile. What can it hurt? I know you’ll come back.  

They acted like the sand wasn’t even there.     

Would you believe they were 42. Just yesterday they were 16. Just last night he knelt down in front of her, and pulled out a ring. It was nothing special. Bastard probably stole it. He said something about love and God and she laughed him away. It started raining sand. He spent the night on the floor (in the sand), feet away from his Blu who was resting just outside the door. How many times had he asked her? He had lost count. She just wanted to see if he’d ask again. She just wanted to see how many times she could leave before he changed the locks. 

Just the day after she felt eternity would be better. Swearing on her life and on the bible and on Blu that another night in that bed and she’d set the house on fire. So she waited until he went to bed. And pulled out his handgun, the one he kept safe in the closet. And she’d point it at him. Then at her. Then at him. Then she’d put it back. Then she’d pick it up. Then she left the house. How many times had she promised to burn the house down? How many nights were spent staring at the barrel of a gun? Where is my picket fence? They’d lost track.

She never messed with the gun before, long before. But years ago she had never touched drugs. Drugs were here now, and so was her man. Years ago she had never killed a thing. But his dog was gone, and he was still here. People change. There was a time when he had never known what it felt like to have his dick burned. Then she threw hot coffee on him, naked. There was a time when neither knew what it felt like to be forgiven, and then they met each other. 

She came back in the house that very night, ankle deep in sand. The same as any other night she had left the house, but this was like the night she first shot up. This was like the night she killed his dog. This was like the night he choked her and he choked her hard. He loaded up the needle, and wound her arm up good. Off to bed. And in the morning she was up before him, and she was a woman of her word. That extra gallon of gas? Yes, the one in the little red container. Yes, that one. Pouring it on him. At first he thought it was just another wake up call. A pot of coffee. But this one wasn't hot, yet. He jumped out of bed, smelling the stench. Before she lit the match he had her bloodied and out the door, naked. They were both just so naked. 

They were both just so naked all the time. At 16, he had a truck. In the back of the truck they’d get naked. Everything had been so surreal and forgettable and unsure. Hating the feeling of it coming to an end. Rather spend their whole lives in the back of a truck. Under a blanket. When the ground they slept on was clean. No need to walk or to eat or to breathe. That meant it would change. That meant that things would change. Both were just so scared, scared to lose one another. Scared to breathe, because that would change things. Lovebirds tangled up like a web, lying on a bed. Their hearts so far past simple and sweet. 

Their house was just so dirty. She wished he’d let her open the blinds. Burp, burp, burp. He hasn’t shaved in weeks. Yell, yell, yell. Now, they’re 53. Punch, punch, punch. And their lives are still the same. Cry, cry, cry. Together, they were alone. 

Farther along the line they went. An overdose… or two. But they still haven't kicked it, yet. “What a shame…”, said the neighbors. “They’re no good for eachother…”, said the cops. But who would they be without one another? Without drugs and the sand they would still be the same. Without one another, they just wouldn't be together. Sirens heard, everyday. She was soft, like a bird. He went away. Off to the pound, and she brought him back, again. But when she drove her Ford, he fought back. Then naked they would go to bed. Together. 

Each time, the sand rising. Sometimes coming down in torrents. Doing their best to sweep it out. 

She had a vase, once, that broke. He’d used it as an ashtray, for his smokes. All of the ashes and all of the butts came tumbling out, and onto the rug. She had broke the vase, but he was the one who wasn't so kind to her grandma’s old gift. Yes, he had known how much it had meant. Really, now that all was spent, could a vase really break an old lover’s nest? And that was the straw, that broke the camel’s back. Oh, wait… she came back. This time waist deep, then rising rising, until they couldn’t breathe.

Drive, drive, drive. The old man went to sell her Ford. Sweep, sweep, sweep. She finally did some chores. Changing the blanket, and washing the sheets. The sand was blowing away, in heaps. Pour, pour, pour. Gasoline goes in the tank. The tank of a truck, that he had painted blue. Whoop, whoop, whoop. Whoop the cushions of that couch. Where he can watch the Giants, and you can drink coffee without a pout. How? How? How? How does that robe fit you so nicely? Did you buy it for yourself? Where? Where? Where? Where did the spoons go? Did you just throw them out like that? Oh, I know! They went in the drawers. Cheerios aren't just a snack. You pour them in bowls, with milk and your coffee. Then you sit at the table, and watch the sun rise. Then off to the bedroom. Who will be first? “Just sit there, my darling? You’ve tried, did it work?” And he pulls out the gun, and together they stare. Together like always. He points it at air. Then suddenly, she’s looking into that barrel again. She doesn’t care if she’s pretty. She cares if it ends. Then his turn to go. Together again, they lie once more. Their house full of sand. The end.

[khplattner]

This boy turned 15 months a few days ago! He is finally walking a majority of the time- he will only crawl if he needs to get somewhere fast. Dad is probably his favorite person, but only mom will do if he’s hurt or getting very tired. He says about ten words- mom, dad, uh-uh (no), hi/bye, hat, hot, uh oh, nana (banana), something like baby (ba-ba) and something like Lena. His most recent word is “eyes.” He will point to your eyes if you say it. He spits all of the time making tractor and car noises. He is obsessed with anything on wheels, particularly walkers and lunch carts that he finds at church. He gets quite upset if I have to take him away from one. He loves books and will often bring one to Kyle or I and sit on our lap. He enjoys the attention from his sisters and they love to see him kick and squeal when they walk in the door after school. He’s fairly picky with his food, but seems to love breakfast foods- oatmeal, pancakes, and waffles are all favorites. I manage to sneak in veggies and protein into as many of his favorite foods as I can. He loves routine and has certain favorite games and activities that he likes to do each day. One of his favorites is emptying the napkin holder basket on the kitchen table, as well as rummaging in the pantry, pushing buttons on the washer/dryer/microwave, playing hide and seek, turning the fan off and on in his room, splashing in the bathtub if someone is taking a bath, and emptying the art supplies out of the office drawers. Needless to say, my house often looks like a one year old lives here as he seems to leave a trail wherever he has been. He likes to point out pictures of daddy in the house and point out things that are daddy’s, like his hats and the coffee maker. He goes to bed by 7 most nights, wakes at 6/6:30, and takes a 2 hour or sometimes 3 hour nap usually between 11-3, depending on my carpool schedule. He is a very busy little guy and climbs much more than my girls ever did- out of his high chair, out of the shopping cart, and I even caught him standing on the kitchen table the other day. My girls used to sit so nicely in the shopping cart and just look around or eat a few cheerios. Leif, not so much. But overall he’s a pretty happy little guy and he is so much fun. The girls love when I bring him to recess duty on Fridays, as they are so proud to carry him around and show him to their classmates. We are thankful for our little Leif!

[lionews]

“god i wish someone would spit in my cheerios. ill stay bitter tho, were all the same at the end of the day, we all get our kicks being a hater.”

Not all of us find joy in acting like a 13 year old who just found out what being edgy is

.

[eva-knits12]

Grocery shopping with Colin Shea

Trigger warning: teething, sick toddler, shopping with a toddler, Colin trying to get the shopping done, fluff

Summary: Colin needs to do the grocery shopping while Eva has to go to her best friend's baby shower. This was inspired by Oliva Munn grocery shopping with her toddler.

It was a typical Saturday morning in the Shea household. Dickens was seated next to Harper's high chair while Colin and Harper were eating breakfast. Colin had prepared pancakes and bacon, and I had just gotten out of the shower.

"That smells wonderful," I say as I sit down at the table, giving my husband a peck on his cheek.

"Baby, don't worry. I made breakfast. I'll take care of the shopping, don't worry," said Colin, giving me a quick kiss.

"Honey, thanks. I would hate to miss Jenny's baby shower. It's the only day that we could book the venue. Now, are you sure you're going to be okay taking Harper grocery shopping? She'll fuss if you try to put her in the cart," I say.

"Baby, I have it handled. You don't have to go through every single item in the diaper bag. I have enough diapers, I have her favorite sippy cup, I have her pacifier, I have some toys for her, it should be smooth sailing", Colin said, trying to ease my worry.

Harper had reached all of her milestones. She rolled over on time, sat up on her own on time, crawled on time, pulled herself up on time, walked with assistance on time, and then walked on her own on time. She even cut her first teeth on time, and today, she was teething. Colin and I were up half the night, trying to soothe and calm a teething toddler.

Harper was trying purposely to drop Cheerios from her high chair in order to feed the dog.

Harper's fever had broken earlier. She often ran fevers when she was teething, and teething made her miserable. Colin and I slept until eight, because we were both tired. Colin and I both didn't want to oversleep, but we were dealing with a teething toddler who was also running a fever. Harper was also stuffy, and had a runny nose, so I also knew that she has a cold. Dealing with a sick toddler who was also teething was not how Colin and I wanted to start their Saturday morning.

Harper screams again, and I get her out of the high chair.

"I know, Harper. Mommy and Daddy will make everything better," I say, trying to soothe Harper who has now clung onto me, and refuses to let me put her down.

Colin comes in with some more baby cold medicine, and gives some to Harper. She tries to spit it out.

"Harper, I know that medicine is yucky, but you need to take some medicine. You need to take medicine to get better," I say, while I had Harper on my hip. Harper covers her eyes, and tries to bury herself in my shoulder.

"I know, baby, but you need to take this to get better," I say sympathetically.

Colin pulls out some applesauce, and mixes some of the medicine in the applesauce. Harper loves applesauce, so he doesn't think anything of it. Colin feeds a few spoonfuls to Harper. She doesn't spit it out, and doesn't even realize that her applesauce has her icky medicine in it.

Later on, I make a grocery list for Colin. I organize the list and the coupons according to aisle and section, which makes the shopping easier, and it goes by quicker. I give the list and the coupons to Colin.

Saturday mornings is when Colin and I do the grocery shopping. Either Colin or I get the items, while one of us sits in the in-store Starbucks with Harper, playing with her, coloring with her, or reading to her.

I go back upstairs and get dressed for the baby shower, and put on my makeup.

Colin gets Harper dressed. He puts a cute little sweatsuit on her, and does her hair in some cute pigtails. He even puts some cute tennis shoes on Harper.

"Are you ready for grocery shopping with Daddy?" asks Colin.

"Yah, gocey shop, Daddy. Gocey shop." Colin smiles, and calls me. I heard Harper. Did she just speak her first sentence?

"Honey, did she just speak her first sentence?" I ask, with a combination of pride and curiosity.

"She did! Great job, Harper!" Colin says, who couldn't be more prouder. His daughter smiles with pride, and says, "Yah, gocey shop, Mama. Gocey shop."

I was beaming pride, while Colin lifts up Harper. Colin and I both kiss Harper on both cheeks, and Colin and I couldn't have been more proud. Our daughter just spoken her very first sentence!

I finish getting my makeup on, and get dressed. Colin is playing his guitar and singing to Harper who is nodding her head and dancing with the guitar. She squeals with the music. I finish getting ready, and when Harper nodded her head to Colin's guitar, she looks just like Colin when she does that.

I kiss Harper and Colin goodbye and I get in my car, and head off to the venue for my best friends baby shower. I wanted to be there to help set up, and make sure Jenny was off her feet. Her mother, Nancy, was also there, placing the centerpieces on the tables, while I was busy making sure that the gift tables were nearby, and that the food and the cake was there, and could discuss with the head of food service and the party planner where the buffet table should be. Nancy and I would also discuss with the head of food service when the cake would be cut and served. Nancy, Jenny and I had mistakenly put down the buffet option instead of having people order off the menu, but that was fine. We all felt that the buffet option would give people a chance to mingle and talk for a bit.

Colin picks up Harper, and feels that her diaper is wet. Colin takes Harper to the changing table, and changes her diaper. He is tickling her and blowing raspberries on her tummy in order to make her laugh.

Colin unlocks the Chevy Blazer with the key fob, and puts Harper in her car seat. Colin then puts on the toddler station on the satellite radio, and Harper kicks her legs and dances to the songs. Colin arrives at the grocery store, parks, and gets Harper out of her car seat.

Colin pulls out one of the carts. Somehow, he manages to pull one out, when you always pull out two, and try to separate them. It takes a strongman to actually do this, as you realize that these strongman contests should involve real life, every day tasks. Eva is envious because Colin somehow becomes Captain America when he does this.

Colin tries to put Harper in the front seat of the cart, but she manages to put up a fuss.

"Okay, Harper, I'll let you walk, but you have to stay near Daddy at all times, and you need to hold onto the cart," said an exasperated Colin. Eva told Colin earlier that this would happen, but he never thought that it was huge, as Eva had somehow managed to get Harper into the cart by placing her favorite stuffed animal, Lamb Lamb, in the cart, and Harper would reach for it.

Harper looks for Lamb Lamb, and is momentarily confused. Colin digs through the diaper bag, only to realize that he forgot to pack Harper's favorite stuffed animal, Lamb Lamb.

Harper starts to cry and screams "LAMB LAMB! LAMB LAMB!" Colin picks up Harper and tries to soothe her, but she really wants Lamb Lamb. Colin gets an idea, and starts to tickle her, causing Harper to laugh.

This was going to be a LONG forty-five minutes.

Colin and Harper enter the store, with Harper holding on to the cart. What normally would have taken five minutes, already took three times longer. Colin didn't realize that he would have to diffuse a fussy toddler who was sick that was having a meltdown, have to be Captain America and pull the cart, and have to be a negotiator, all in a matter of a fifteen minutes.

First, Colin goes to the produce section, and gets bananas, and the small bananas for Harper. You would like her to have at least a serving of fruit, and she loved applesauce and bananas. Colin crosses it off the list, then gets those little mandarin oranges for Harper, because she also likes those. Then, he gets some apples, and some veggies. He gets some tomatoes, some broccoli, some cauliflower, and some carrots. Harper takes one look at the broccoli, and shouts "UCK."

"Harper, do you want to grow to be big and strong, like Daddy?", asks Colin.

"UCK! UCK!" Harper keeps screaming while trying to grab for the broccoli.

"Harper, we'll go to Red Robin tonight. But you have to eat some broccoli at lunch, okay, baby girl?", negotiates Colin. How does Eva manage to get Harper to eat something as yucky as broccoli? Colin figured it must be mom magic.

Harper looks at Colin, and immediately switches. "UM! UM!"

Colin and Harper move on the next aisle, which is the bread aisle. Colin grabs a loaf of bread, and Harper immediately shouts "UM! UM!' Colin realized that he grabbed the small loaf of white bread, and he also puts in a loaf of whole wheat bread. Harper says "bwead. Bwead."

Colin moves on to the jelly and the peanut butter, and puts some strawberry jelly in the cart. He also loads in some raspberry jelly that you both love, and he got it because it was on sale, two jars for four dollars. One jar is two dollars, so he got two jars, one to have in reserve.

Harper looks at the peanut butter, and grabs a plastic jar and gives it Colin. Colin puts it in the cart, and is ready to move on, but Harper grabbed another jar, and gave it Colin. Colin put it on a higher shelf, out of Harper's reach, and she gave Colin yet another jar. Colin repeats this, and Harper starts laughing, thinking that this is funny.

Colin moves into the next aisle, and gets some spices, and some cocoa powder, some flour, and some sugar, and some vanilla. Eva was going to bake tomorrow, and she was going to bake some brownies. He also gets her one of those disposable baking pans, which makes this task much easier.

Next is the meat, and Colin gets a pack of hot dogs, and even puts in some turkey and some ham in the cart. He also grabs some of those slider sized burgers for Harper.

Next is the pasta aisle, and Colin grabs some of that bow tie pasta, along with some penne pasta, some spaghetti, and some rigatoni. He even picks up some pasta sauce. Tomorrow, you were going to make spaghetti and meatballs, and Colin loved that. Colin also grabbed some lasagna noodles, and you both could make lasagna one day. He had also grabbed some ground beef and some other veggies to make chili with one night, which he had planned for tonight, but he promised Harper Red Robin if she was a good girl and ate her broccoli.

Colin went to the bakery section to see if they had some tiramisu for dessert tomorrow, but they didn't have it. He would look in the frozen section, because the grocery store normally had one there, and he could just let it thaw out in the fridge.

Colin also got Harper some macaroni and cheese for lunch, and he found the some in the frozen section. He could just pop it in the oven, and he could make the broccoli, and prepare the hot dogs. He was better at getting the casing off than you were, and Harper loved Daddy's mac and cheese, while she turned her nose up at Eva's. Eva figured that was Daddy magic. He also got the tiramisu and some ice cream, vanilla and chocolate chip cookie dough.

Harper fell to the ground, and started to cry. She motioned her arms in an up motion, and screamed "UP! UP!" Colin picked her up, and put her in the cart, and Harper eventually calmed down. Colin pulled Harper out when she made a fuss in the cart again. While they were passing a display of action figures that had the Avengers to promote the new Avengers movie, Harper grabbed a box. The doll that was in the box was Captain America. Harper looked at the doll, then looked at Colin, then looked at the doll, and looked at Colin again. Harper was confused as to why there were two daddy's in the store. Colin realized that the Captain America doll looked exactly like him. That gave Colin an idea. He put the Captain America doll in the cart, and Harper started to reach for the box. He picked up Harper and put her in the cart. Why didn't the store put the display in the entrance, wondered Colin. He would have been able to improvise a lot sooner, and wouldn't have spent fifteen minutes trying to diffuse a toddlers meltdown. That's how Eva gets Harper into the cart, he just had to put Lamb Lamb in the cart, but he forgot to pack it in Harper's diaper bag.

Colin looked at the price, and figured what the heck, it made his daughter happy. Colin and Harper head to the checkout line, and Colin check out. Harper screams when he takes the Captain America doll from her, but he explains that she will have it in a few minutes, he needs to scan it so they can pay for it.

Colin looked at the time, and realized it was well past Harper's lunch time. The shopping trip took twice as long with a toddler in tow, and Harper was hungry. When Colin had the groceries unpacked, he started to prepare the mac and cheese for Harper. He put in the oven, and then prepared the broccoli.

When the mac and cheese is done and the broccoli is prepared, he gets out one of Harper's spoons, and places the mac and cheese in front of her. He puts the broccoli in a small bowl, and the mac and cheese is also in a small bowl. Harper takes a bite of the mac and cheese, and then grabs the broccoli. Instead of screaming UCK and turning her head away, she says UM.

After lunch, Harper starts to yawn, and Colin tries to give her medicine, but fails miserably. She tries to spit it out again, so he sets her down, and mixes it with some applesauce. She takes the spoonful of applesauce, and never realized that Daddy has mixed icky medicine in her applesauce.

After that, Colin feels that Harper's diaper is heavy, and changes her dirty diaper. He also realizes that she had also peed, so he cleans her up really good.

Colin is again blowing raspberries on her tummy and is tickling her, and Harper is laughing. Harper yawns again after Colin is done changing her diaper. Colin carries Harper back downstairs and lies down on the couch, with Harper on top of him. Harper has fallen asleep on the way down, and she's holding Lamb Lamb. She also has a pacifier in her mouth.

Colin falls asleep on the couch, with Harper sleeping on top of Colin. I come home to see the site.

I cover them both with a blanket, and I smile. I sits there in an armchair, and work on my knitting. Colin wakes up after a while, and smiles lovingly at his amazing, beautiful wife. His wedding ring shines in the dim light of the living room.

"How do you do it, sweetheart? I never thought that shopping with a toddler required so much energy," said Colin.

"Honey, it's easier when it's two of is, but sometimes it doesn't work out that way. You forgot Lamb Lamb, didn't you?", I say.

"That's the key to getting her in the cart? I forgot to bring Lamb Lamb, but the silver lining is she got a new toy out of it," Colin says.

I look at Harper, who is happily sleeping with Lamb Lamb and her pacifier in her mouth, but I can't help but notice the new Captain America toy. I realize that it looks exactly like Colin.

"How was the baby shower, Sweetheart?" asks Colin.

"It was great. Jenny made out like a bandit.", I said. I remember her my shower/birthday party where we announced that Colin and I were having a girl.

Harper wakes up, Colin takes her pacifier out of her mouth, and momentarily screams, and then realizes that Mama is finally home. She walks up to me, and screams "MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!"

"I missed you, too, baby. Mama missed you all day!" I scoop up Harper, and Colin tells to me to grab my coat, he was treating Harper to Red Robin, as he promised.

"But you just went grocery shopping...", I say, confused,

"I know, but I promised to take Harper to Red Robin if she ate her broccoli at lunch. It worked. She didn't scream, or try to turn her head away," said Colin.

I grab my coat, and put Harper in hers first. Colin puts on his coat, and I put on yours. Colin, Harper, and I enjoy a nice dinner at Red Robin, and have milkshakes for dessert.

Colin looks at me, with nothing but love. Having a wife and a family is what he wanted, even if it was crazy at times. I looked at Colin and felt the same way. Colin gives me a loving kiss, and then kisses my hand, right where my wedding and engagement rings sat.

[pumpkin-pi-e]

Pairing: Erasermic/reader

Reader Gender: Female

Citrus scale: Orange?

Content Warnings: None! :3

*cough* probably crackhead energy.

Synopsis: Erasermic fluff + shin-son! A collection of three lighthearted drabbles, I suppose. Honestly, I'm not sure what to call them. I'll provide snippets from each down below!

1st: Bully!zawa (homeless cat man) picks on the local hero and beloved radio host, ‘Present Mic.’

“Songbird, Shou’s bein’ mean.” That pout never failed to melt your heart—that cockatoo’s cruisin’ for a smoochin’.

“C’mere, sweetie.” Shouta pretends not to be jealous as you give his husband that tender lovin’—generously warm lips and deep nuzzles that look painfully inviting. He can't help but envy.

“Prince,” Shouta's ears are immediately red, and he stiffens as you address him.

“That wasn't very nice of you, my love.”

─────────────────────

2nd: You, Shinsou, and Hizashi do a little science experiment! (The three of you conspire on how to achieve that gravity-defying hairdo.)

“Let me get this straight.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the thin layer of skin to soothe an oncoming migraine. “You want me to activate Erasure, knowing it'll exacerbate my dry eye for a science experiment?”

You three share a look and answer in unison. “Yes.”

He sighs. “Fine. Let's get this over with.”

─────────────────────

3rd: A homeless resident is trying to enjoy his rare day off and is highly against the cardinal sin of putting buns in ovens.

“Shouta.”

“Mm?”

“Babies are cute.”

Shouta eyes you skeptically, unsure where this is going and wary of finding out.

─────────────────────

A/N: lol, I'm just here to goof around and have fun. These are some shenanigans I wrote in between stories I'm working on. Hopefully, you can get a chuckle out of them.

Aizawa bundles up in his Snuggie™️ after work hours and sets you in his lap so you can help him win levels in Candy Crush (and because it's prime cuddle real estate)

Interestingly, Aizawa has a plethora of stored in-game boosts that he never uses. He doesn't allow you to use them either. The hero isn't saving them for burdensome levels; on the contrary. Aizawa mentioned he didn't want any handicaps. Shouta thought it didn't count if he didn't win on his own. He neither wants nor needs the game to hold his hand.

You know, unlike Hizashi, who runs through power-ups like they’re candy.

Shouta likes it because it's both relaxing and stimulating. On the flip side, you enjoy it because you get to see him in those cute bifocals he wears whenever he has his tablet in hand. (heh. Such a dad.)

To your absolute joy, you discovered both heroes wore them in their downtime. And, on the odd occasion where a student's paper was so flagrantly horrid, it gave them literal cataracts. The teachers would be forced to put them on to see that shit clearer, and it was still the most offensive thing they had ever seen.

Laughter could not be con ta in ed when Mic claimed that a singular piece of paper simultaneously spit in his face, gave him acne, pissed in his Cheerios, and insulted his mustache in the breadth of one sentence.

And when you (foolishly) thought the pain in your chest couldn't get any worse, you were mercilessly thrown into hysterics when Aizawa piped up from his sleeping bag, surrounded by his nest of junk food: jelly pouches, hot chip, macarons, and every other sweet he could get his grubby little mittens on without the DJ chastising him. “Truth hurts. It isn't an insult if it's accurate. Maybe you'll take the hint and finally shave it off. Accept your fate as a babyface.”

Mic sputtered, offended by this latest insult to his darling, totally-hip-and-not-all-lame mustache, and from his husband of all people! “Babe! That's hurtful!”

Shouta didn't look away from his tablet and the cute kitties it depicted, but he was snickering under the collar of his sweater.

“Songbird, Shou’s bein’ mean.” That pout never failed to melt your heart—that cockatoo’s cruisin’ for a smoochin’.

“You think your man looks handsome, don't you?”

Poor baby. Sweet summer child. “Of course I do, cutietoo.” How could you not? He's too sweet in those red-rimmed frames and soft pastels. That gold hair is a halo accentuating his round cheeks, drawing attention to the adorable gap between his two front teeth.

Zashi hums sadly into your kiss, melting into your hands as you cup his face. “Need kisses. I'm heartbroken, mama.”

“C’mere, sweetie.” Shouta pretends not to be jealous as you give his husband that tender lovin’--generously warm lips and deep nuzzles that look painfully inviting. He can't help but envy.

To make matters worse, you cradle Zashi in your soft bosom. Shouta swears it looks like pillowy heaven, and the DJ is suddenly smug as he shoots him a look that the erasure hero scoffs at.

Suck up.

Fuckin’ teacher’s pet.

“Prince,” Shouta's ears are immediately red, and he stiffens as you address him.

“That wasn't very nice of you, my love.” He blooms like a rose, albeit one with more than a few thorns, as he grumbles at the pet name. He pouts heavily and hunkers into his sleeping bag.

“My love?”

He turns over, grabbing his snacks as he does. Don't speak to him or his children ever again. He won't stand for this blatant favoritism.

“Sweetest sleep prince?”

More flustered grumbling.

(The sound of velcro zipping.)

“My hero? Handsome tomcat?”

The zipper drops, and Aizawa is startled by the two faces grinning at him. His magic hair levitated from fright.

“...What do you-mm!” Those eyes are wide and red when two pairs of lips smooch his grumpy face, and all too quickly does it dissolve in gentle, husky giggles and the smallest of smiles.

...Fine. He'll forgive you this time.

He’s peppered in kisses and compliments. No inch of him is left unloved. Similarly, no place is safe from the cluster of kisses--not his warm cheeks, his forehead that had to be revealed by sweeping his bangs aside, and certainly not his rosy nose.

“Handsome kitty.”

*kiss*

“Cute caterpillar.”

*kiss*

“Sweet valentine.”

*kiss*

“Extra special squeeze. My VIP baby!”

“Sleepy beauty.”

“Shouta beau.”

“Sweet listener.”

“Jelly Belly.”

Zashi pauses his ticklish assault, and Shouta breathes a sigh of relief--he was this close to losing his shit.

The radio personality repeats your strange endearment, “Jelly Belly?”

You pat Shouta’s belly in response, eliciting a groaned protest from said sleep-deprived dilf. “This bad boy can fit so many jelly pouches!”

Mic shrugs; it's good enough for him.

“It can fit so many [name’s].”

Le gasp! You stare at Shouta in mock horror, drawing back.

“You can't eat me, you fiend!”

Shouta, the aforementioned fiend, merely huffed.

He might be hairy, but he's no wolf, and you don't own a house made of straw.

Shinsou takes this most innoptune moment to walk into the living room and promptly spins on his heels.

Parents being weirdos? Yeah, hard pass.

“Um, songbird? I'm sure he already has...”

“I mean... technically.” Mic supplied.

“Shouta, you indecent kitty.” You narrow your eyes--judgemental.

And here you thought he was a sweet angel. He's more like a sin-ammon roll.

“Shouta, there are children around.” Zashi, admonished.

“He’s hardly a child,” The hero scoffs. “And I didn't mean it that way.”

“Sure you didn't.”

Aizawa cut his field of vision to match his husband's narrowed gaze.

“Pervy!zawa.”

Shouta inhales. “Hizashi, I am this close.”

“Ew! TMI, babe. Think of songbird.”

...

Shouta lunges.

A whole fiasco ensues where you had to pull the heroes away from each other, putting an end to their playful wrestling. The kissing marathon resumed somewhere in that mess of testosterone and sweaty bodies.

It turns out his swatting was half-hearted. Shouta commands you both to keep going after you stop. “No...keep going.”

Anyhow, back to the glasses™️.

You reacted like any other rational adult the first time you saw them in glasses. Meaning, you only turned into a complete sap and waxed poetic about how angelic they were for a minimum of thirty minutes. Anything more would have been excessive.

Both pros are (endlessly) entertained by how quickly you simp over them. Hizashi, that clever cockatoo, discovered it's a sure-fire method to bag himself a couple of kisses.

[Enter a cranky Aizawa walking in on his three idiots rubbing balloons on the carpet to give themselves static cling for whatever godforsaken reason. Grouchy from insomnia, he would’ve pulled a ‘Shinsou’ and turned right around if you three hadn't stopped him.]

“Let me get this straight.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the thin layer of skin to soothe an oncoming migraine.

Since being unceremoniously shoved into a chair, he’d learned that you three goblins were trying to imitate a side-effect of Erasure. More specifically, the apparent scientific marvel of his anti-gravity hair.

“You want me to activate Erasure, knowing it'll exacerbate my dry eye for a science experiment?”

You three share a look and answer in unison. “Yes.”

He sighs. “Fine. Let's get this over with.”

Shinsou and Zashi share a fist bump, and the three of you partake in a round of high fives.

“But,” Aizawa stresses, cutting your celebration short. “You only have fifteen minutes to figure out whatever it is you're looking for. And for the record,” There’s a slight pause as he drags one of the dinette chairs from the kitchen and subsequently plops into it. “I highly doubt this will yield any meaningful results.”

“Babe, you let us worry about that.” Zashi kisses his forehead, squatting further down to connect their lips, when Shouta lifts his head, searching for them.

“Yeah! You're just worried you won't be the only one with magical floaty hair.” You back-up your DJ, lifting a handful of Shinsou’s ube-colored hair and raising it by the ends to imitate the levitation effect of Erasure.

“Whatever.” Aizawa makes himself comfortable since he’ll be sitting for the next ten minutes and counting.

You, Zashi, and Shinsou scramble for solutions when his eyes blaze red and do the cool glowy effect; you examine the hero’s hair thoroughly, and a series of trials and errors follow (with Shinsou as the guinea pig). Hizashi is too protective of his hair, and who knows if you, darling reader, even can participate. So! Shinsou is the man of the hour. Shin-son is given a thorough head massage with two balloons, one held by you and the other held by Zashi.

Meanwhile, Shouta slurps on a jelly pouch (peach flavored) to divert his attention away from the itch behind his eyelids.

The static pull was pretty weak when Zashi lifted his balloon, but with your accompaniment, you had a decent replication of Aizawa's Erasure. However, it's clear that if you three want the full effect, you're going to need at least six of them.

And guess which goobers have six hands combined?

“Hold these for us, munchkin!” Shinsou accepts both balloons with nothing more than a hum, ignoring that each is a shade of purple; Hizashi is a menace, but his antics are expected.

“Seven minutes left.” The gruff voice of Aizawa informs.

“Okay, all at once!” Your excitement can't be bottled—anxious for this spontaneous science experiment to come to fruition. But if it could, you'd buy the entire stock to relive this moment all over again. You're on the cusp of greatness—the edge of success. And God, is it going to taste sweet.

“Count’a three?” Shinsou drawled, sounding as lethargic as his father (on his fifth jelly pouch.)

That dry eye must be a pain in the ass.

And oh, did that get Hizashi’s DJ spirit pumping. There's nothing like a good count down to rev up a hype man. “Yo! I'm gettin’ hype! Let's knock this puppy so far outta the park they’ll need Sir Night Eye to see how far into the solar system it's gonna land!!”

“One!” You enthusiastically chirp.

“Two.” Shinsou’s monotone is the spitting image of Aizawa.

“THREE!!” Mic screamed.

Armed with double ammo, the three of you are a blur of color. Shinsou is given the deepest scalp massage of his life, and Aizawa is five moves away from either victory or defeat (he’s immersed in the sugary world of Candy Crush).

“We did it!”

“Pog.”

“That's how you do it, baby! GG, gamers. We got that bread.”

Shouta looks up from his phone, stilling in his seat when he sees a reflection of his younger self.

Shinsou has worn the binding cloth Shouta gifted him every day without fail since he received it. You, Hizashi, and Shouta found it cute, so neither of you commented on it. The metal alloy bound around his neck only made the resemblance more uncanny—more emotionally moving.

Unbeknownst to Shouta, Shinsou is equally floored. He's looking in the mirror, and he sees his hero staring back. All the times he'd dressed up in costume as a child had nothing on this moment. He's given supportive hugs from you and his blonde father when he wipes his eyes. That's all Shouta needed to see. His arms silently envelop his son, and he murmurs how proud he is, not only of how far Hitoshi has come in his hero training but of the young man Shinsou has grown into and the man he's still becoming. Those accolades lose neither sincerity nor vehemence as Hitoshi's shoulders tremble, and they don't stop when he grabs the front of Aizawa's hero outfit for stability. Aizawa hugs him just as fiercely when Shinsou throws his arms around him.

You take three separate photos: the first depicts Hizashi, Shinsou, and yourself. You're holding your balloons over Shinsou’s rather electric hairstyle. The second illustrates you, Shinsou, and Zashi yet again. You each have one balloon held above your respective heads, throwing peace signs toward the camera. And last (a personal fan favorite) is a photo relatively similar to the first one, except Aizawa is activating Erasure to help demonstrate the resemblance.

The last shot finds itself on Mic’s Instagram for all those little listeners out there who haven't decided what they want to be for Halloween yet. Present Mic invites them to try the ‘Eraserhead Challenge.’ It's a fun activity and an excellent way for children to learn about the ins and outs of static electricity!

You and Shinsou stick the balloons to Aizawa’s body. And unfortunately, the many cats and kittens descend upon him like mini lions on a fresh t-bone steak.

Don't worry, he “died” a happy man.

[Enter you, Hizashi, and Shouta mellowing out on the couch, snuggled up like lovebirds]

“Shouta...!” The hero spares you a glance after the dramatic groan but goes right back to his Kindle.

“Yea?”

‘Yeah?’ ‘yeah?!’ How dare he ‘yeah’ you?!

“Prince.”

He sighs. “Yes, kitten?”

You smile, cuddling into his side. “That's better.” You kiss his cheek and fizzle like soda and pop rocks when he leans over to return it.

“Shouta.”

“Mm?”

“Babies are cute.”

...?

Okay, that got his attention.

Shouta eyes you skeptically, unsure where this is going and wary of finding out.

You pull out your phone at the suspicious side-eye he sends your way, showing him the adorable baby videos you'd been watching on Pinterest. “That’s...subjective.” He eventually mutters.

Why are you showing him this?

“And while we’re on that subject...”

Apprehensive, Shouta sought help from his husband. Hizashi is already tuned in to the conversation, gaze shifting between you and Aizawa.

“CanIhaveababy?!”

It took him a minute to unravel the compound sentence you threw at him, but when he eventually untangled it, he merely sighed. “No.” His eyes are still narrowed, uncertain if this is another one of your pranks. “We already have Shinsou.”

“Ugh!” You groaned, flinging yourself against the cushions. “Shin-chin is cute, but he's a teenager. I want a baby.”

“We’ll get you a kitten.”

You flail your limbs like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “We already have like three of those, thanks to you!”

“Well then,” Aizawa pockets your phone. “problem solved.” Shouta kept it out of your reach when you groused and fussed at him. He hides his smirk under his turtle neck; even now, you're the most lovable sweetheart. “You don't need to be watching things like that.”

You pout and turn your sights on Zashi. “Hi-Fi? Can I have a baby?”

Oh, Zashi can't stand his baby frowning! If something is wrong with his princess, something is wrong with him. He looks from your pleading expression to the death glare Aizawa spears him with. Those puppy eyes break him in seconds; already, he's scooping you up for cuddles. Mic’s kisses are snow flurries on your grinning face.

“Of course, pumpkin! How many?”

“Zashi!”

“Hizashi, already said yes.”

Shouta looked toward the DJ in disbelief, a comical expression of betrayal on his face. “Zashi?!”

“I asked him earlier.” You preened, hugging Hizashi. “Two against one. You're outnumbered, caffeinated kitty.”

Not caffeinated enough.

Hizashi is looking ANYWHERE but his husband. “In my defense, I thought you'd be down for it.”

“So you decided to make such an important decision without consulting me first?”

“Uh, yes? I'm sorry? ...I love you?”

“Fine... No more than three.”

─────────────────────

You: Can I have a baby?

Hizashi: Yes.

Aizawa: No.

EM: *glances at each other*

Hizashi: No.

Aizawa: Yes.

EM: *looks at you* “Yes.”

[my-obsessions-fic]

Working it out

It was the same nightmare every night for the last six months. Lee’s limp body over the back of Kayce’s horse, the way everything went silent, the coolness of his skin, and no matter how many times you shook him, he wouldn’t wake up, and Rip had to pull you away from him. Your girls were crying for their Daddy. The walk to the cemetery. Watching fresh dirt being thrown over his grave. Sitting there for hours until John brought you into the house.

“Lee,” you gasped, bolting up in bed. Even though you knew the other side of the bed would be empty and cold, you reached out nonetheless. Pushing up from the bed, you slipped on your robe and slippers. It was still early, but you were barely sleeping anyway so you went to the kitchen to make coffee.

Before going downstairs, you checked on the girls, and they were all sleeping away. The nanny would be there soon to watch them while you worked. Then, depending on what had to be done on the ranch, Anne and Everly, your oldest two would go with you.

“Up early or not sleeping?” you asked John as you entered the kitchen. He was leaning against the sink gazing out of the large picture window.

“Little of both, I guess. Fresh pot on the stove,” he said, nodding.

After pouring a cup of steaming coffee, you took a measured sip. Cowboy coffee. The unmistakable taste was something you’d never get used to. Then, reaching into the fridge, you pulled out your fru fru coffee creamer, adding more than you normally would to offset the bitterness.

John smirked. “Still can’t handle real coffee,” he joked.

“That is not coffee. That is motor oil,” you commented with a chuckle. Joining John at the window, the sky was starting to turn pink and purple heralding the sunrise. “I remember the first time Lee made me coffee. I spit it across the room,” you said.

John smiled. “He made the worst coffee. But what I wouldn’t give for a cup of it right now.”

“Me too,” you said, sighing. Then, after a couple of minutes, you changed the subject. “Should probably get those calves vaccinated today before you move them to the other pasture.”

You split your time between the ranch and the veterinarian practice in town when you and Lee got married. Now, you weren’t sure how much longer John would want you here.

“I’ll let the guys know and get you a couple of extra sets of hands,” John said, his gaze still into the darkness outside. “I’d like to have you here full-time. I’m looking to get more cattle and horses.”

“John the clinic offered me full time. I’m going to look for a place in town,” you announced. “I’ll still be the vet here-”

He shook his head. “It seems like all anyone ever does is leave,” he said dryly then sniffed. “Do what you need to do.” He poured the remaining coffee down the sink then walked out.

Later that morning, John wouldn’t even look at you and when he spoke to you it was clipped with as few words as possible.

Vaccinating the calves was going fairly quick. The ranch was a well-oiled machine. Everyone knew their job and did it well.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Rip asked, walking up to where you had finished the first group of cattle. “He acts like someone passed in his Cheerios..” He leaned against the cool metal of the gates.

“Yeah. That’s probably my fault,” you admitted. Wiping your hands on your pants, you turned away from Rip to where John was barking orders at the new ranch hand. When he saw you looking over his way he stalked off to the barn.

Rip raised his brows. “So, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” you answered, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think it’s what I said.”

"Must have been bad," Rip said.

"I just told him I was moving into town. I'm going full-time at the clinic, but I'd still be the vet here," you explained.

Rip nodded. " I see."

"He said that all everyone ever does is leave," you said, biting your bottom lip. "I mean, I lived here because of Lee. So now with him gone, I just figured he'd want me and the girls to move."

"Well, that explains his mood," Rip sighed. “I don’t think he would know what to do with himself if the house was empty.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you said, biting your lip.

“What do you want?” Rip asked.

“I want to stay,” you answered.

John exited the barn, stalking over to you and Rip. The look on his face told you he was about to unleash hell on someone. And you were confident that someone was you. "Am I paying the two of you to sit around and gossip?" John barked.

"I was just going to go help get the next set of calves," Rip announced. “Tell him, Y/N,” Rip said before going back to the ranch hands and cattle.

"Y/N. Need to have a word with you first," he said, nodding at the storehouse as he passed by you.

“Shit,” you muttered. You adjusted your baseball cap. Looking over your shoulder, you saw the ranch hands watching the exchange.

“What the hell are you all looking at!” Rip bellowed. “Get your asses back to work!”

While you had never been the target of John’s anger or “talks,” you had been around when it happened. It wasn’t a pretty sight, to be sure.

John was pacing when you arrived at the storehouse. His boots thudded hard on the wooden floor. He had his cowboy hat in one hand while the other ran through his hair.

“You’re upset with me, John so, let’s get this over with so I can get back to vaccinating those calves,” you informed him.

John regarded you for a moment. It looked like he was about to cry. Finally, he turned away from you.

“I’m not mad, Y/N,” said, his voice softer now. John turned back to face you. “I’d like for you and the girls to stay but I’ll respect your decision if you leave.”

You exhaled a breath you didn’ t know you were holding. “With Lee gone I thought you’d want to have the house to yourself.”

“Those girls, well, that’s all we have left of Lee. I don’t want to miss a day of their lives. And don’t think it’s just about them. I’ve thought about you as my daughter since Lee brought you here for the first time,” John admitted. It was a rarity to see John show emotion or express what he was feeling.

You wiped the tears from your cheeks. “I never wanted to leave. We’ll stay,” you said, then smiled. “And I’d love to be here full time.”

John grinned. “Good. Good. The job is yours.” He put his arms around and hugged you. “I love you, Y/N.”

You hugged him back. “Love you too, John.”

“Now get your ass out there and get back to work,” he said jokingly.

“Yes, boss,” you answered back.

[onceuponaroast]

Things that probably should have made me (and the people around me) suspect that I'm autistic a lot sooner, a non exhaustive list:

1. Adults used to have to translate things I said a lot. I don't mean language-wise, but I used to say things that seemed fine to me but made someone upset. Then an adult would have to step in and clarify, "actually I think she meant (ex)". This even happened somewhat recently when I was at work in 2019. A manager informed a few of us that one of us could go home early and I said "dibs cuz I've been here the longest" what I Meant was I'd been there since 8 and they got there at 10, but someone got upset because she'd been working there a few months longer than I had. The manager (bless her heart) stepped in to clarify

2. One of my moms favorite stories to tell is about my childhood shutdowns. When I was really little (think toddler) sometimes I'd get overwhelmed by noise or visual stimuli or socializing- so I'd completely shut down. I'd cover my ears and eyes, and cower behind the nearest piece of furniture. My mom likes to share this as a cute quirky thing I did.... why no one tried to help I don't know

3. Repeating phrases I heard without knowing what they meant. This is my sister's favorite story. We took a family trip to a petsmart or something during a time when Chinchillas were my special interest. I wasnt allowed to have one, and so when walking past the chinchilla enclosure I saw an ad of some kid holding a chinchilla and felt jealous. So I, at the ripe old age of 6, said "Lucky Bastard" loud enough for other customers to hear. Apparently my dad was Pissed, but neither of my parents could really get mad at me because it was sorta their fault for watching The Big Bang Theory in front of me

4. Refusing to leave my stroller. Honestly if I could still be in a stroller, I would. Not even in a dont-want-to-walk way, but because it's the perfect way to observe the world without having to interact with it. It made noises quieter, shielded me from sunlight, and no one tried to talk to me when I was in it. If I got overwhelmed I could pull the top down and take a nap. A complete win.

5. Getting mad when people were wrong. This sounds rude- and I guess it may have been- but let me explain. One year at summer camp we played some ice breaker game and went around in a circle to say if you were an introvert, extrovert, or somewhere in between. I got So Excited to share a new word I learned, Ambivert! Which means between introvert and extrovert. I was so excited I shared this at the beginning of the circle. Except, people got really annoyed and started pointedly saying "I'm an introverted extrovert" and kinda laughing at me. I got really unreasonably angry, but kept that to myself

6. Speaking of summer camp: daily meltdowns. In my first few years I would get extremely overwhelmed during summer camp. There's no alone time! It's always loud and hot and the food is gross. Similar to my shutdowns when I was really little, around bedtime each night I'd get so overwhelmed I'd go off by myself and just cry for a bit. Eventually some counselor found me and dragged my off to the office to call my parents.

7. Probably the most obvious: being a picky eater. This is self explanatory. My mom tried to give me cheerios exactly once as an infant and I immediately spit it out and threw a tantrum. I haven't touched cherrios or any other cereal since.

8. The safety plush. Teddy is a teddy bear gifted to me by my grandma when I was born. He'll be turning 22 this year and I still sleep with him every night. I think I was probably 10 before I could go a night without him and not have a meltdown. I loved him so much his body started disintegrating and my parents had to try and find a new one. At first I hated the idea of replacing him but my grandma made up some bs about stuffing blood transfusions and that helped and now we have 3 iterations of Teddy.

9. Sensory issues. I took FOREVER to potty train, simply because I could not stand the sound of the toilet flush. It was loud and terrified me. I also hated grass and jumping in fall leaf piles. I would cry when they put me in clothes of a Certain Texture. My mom likes to share the story of my first birthday party where the tradition is to put a birthday cake in front of the baby and let them absolutely destroy it. I wouldn't touch the thing. Frosting is sticky!

10. Last but not least, special interests. Basically from the time I could talk I had a new interest every year that I'd be completely obsessed with. Starting with The Doodlebops, Bob the Builder, and The Wiggles. Then Cinderella, Scooby Doo, and Chinchillas. Once I reached Elementary school and had access to the Library it was OVER. I checked out like 50+ books on the different species of cats within like a two month period

This is not everything! But Autism is not just "rude and doesn't make eye contact"

[masterofmunson]

look after you (2)

TFATWS Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary:  Sam asks you to join him and Bucky on a mission in Madripoor. When you get injured, Bucky feels the need to remind you more than once that he’s supposed to look after you now that Steve’s gone.

Warnings: tfatws spoilers, language, violence, blood, vomiting, explosions, needles, pining galore

Word Count: 4.7k+

Author’s Note: Here she is! I was originally going to post this tomorrow, but to celebrate the season finale of tfatws as well as me getting fully vaccinated, I decided to post it a day earlier! As always, comments, reblogs, and asks are highly encouraged and greatly appreciated. Enjoy and tell me what you think!

You take a day to rest and recoup before diving head first into the mission again. You slept decently and you hadn’t really thought about how exhausted you really were until you went to bed after your heart to heart with Bucky. It was a conversation that the two of you needed to have, and you wished it didn’t have to happen after you had gotten shot. You’re just glad that you’re on the same page now.

Getting out of bed, you’re careful to move around with your shoulder in mind as you wash your face and brush your teeth. You make your way to the kitchen and everyone, including Zemo, sits around the granite countertop.

“Good morning, Y/n. How’s your shoulder?” Zemo asked with a smug smirk and a cup of tea in his hands.

You glare at him and take three long strides to get to him. You slap him across the face and the smack echoes against the walls. “If you touch Bucky and I like you did last night again, I’ll kill you. Understand?” you snapped, spitting at him.

He grins and caresses the side where you hit him, messaging his fingers into the tender and red skin. “Completely.”

You walk away from him to the far side of the counter where Bucky and Sam are just staring at you with wide eyes. They hide their growing smiles behind their coffee mugs. You reach for the coffee pot and Sharon grabs a mug from the cabinet for you. You fill it with coffee and pour some creamer inside.

Bucky leans over your shoulder and mumbles in your ear, “Are you feeling okay?”

You smile softly at him and take a sip of your coffee. You nod slowly and lean against the kitchen counter. You don’t need to exchange words for Bucky to know that you’re doing okay. He knows with the small curve of your mouth.

“What’s the move now that all of Madripoor is trying to kill us? How are we going to find this Nagel guy?” you asked, looking between Sam and Sharon.

Sharon sighs, running a hand through her hair. “You should really steer clear of all of this for your own safety,” she sighed. “Especially you, now that you’re injured,” nodding over to your shoulder.

“We know it’s a risk, but we’re not going to leave until we find Nagel,” Sam interjected.

Sam and Sharon negotiate with each other as you walk towards the window. Now that the sun is up, you can see the entire skyline of High Town. It’s beautiful, all things considered since the entirety of Low Town is trying to kill you.

“You help us out, I’ll get your name cleared. Deal?”

Sharon sighs and shakes Sam’s hand. “I have a showing tonight, I’ll see what I can find. Just lay low and blend in. Stay out of trouble.”

She leaves the kitchen and disappears down the hall. You move back into the kitchen and poke around the pantry to see what kind of breakfast food she had for you to eat. To your own surprise and excitement, you see a box of Cheerios on the top shelf. You grab it and open a number of cabinets and drawers for a bowl and spoon.

“Want some, Buck? Sam?” you asked.

The two men shake their heads and Sam pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I need to make a call, I’ll be right back.”

You hum and grab the milk from the fridge. You sit at the kitchen table away from Zemo. Bucky sits in the empty chair next to you and you playfully shove a hand in his face as he watches you eat.

“Stop brooding, Buck. It’s not a good look for you, gives you wrinkles,” you teased with a grin.

“I think I’m okay with a few wrinkles, honey. I look pretty damn good for a 106 year old, don’t you think?” Bucky teased in return.

You hum with approval and a mouthful of cereal. “Mhmm. You look great, Buck.”

You finish your breakfast and put everything away. Bucky reaches for your arm and squeezes your hand. “Can I look at your shoulder? I want to make sure everything’s okay.”

You nod and Bucky grabs the abandoned first aid kit before following you into the nearest bathroom. You climb on to the bathroom counter and Bucky ruffles through the kit for the right supplies. He gathers more thread, bandages, and anticeptant and places them beside you.

“Do you need me to help you take off your sweatshirt?”

Your laughter fills the bathroom walls and you raise your brows at the ex assassin. A flirtatious smile finds its way onto your face. “Are you asking me for a strip tease, Barnes?”

His face flushes an embarrassing shade of pink and it makes you giggle even more. It makes your heart melt at his awkwardness. He stutters over his words. “N-No! I can step out if you don’t need help. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

He turns to leave and you gently grasp his arm, stopping him from leaving you. Your gentle smile and touch makes him relax. “I’m just giving you a hard time, Buck. You don’t have to leave. You might have to ask me out on a date after this, though. I don’t do this for just anyone.”

He just stares at you with a blank expression.

You laugh again, biting the inside of your cheek. It makes you feel awkward and embarrassed that he didn’t understand your teasing. “I’m joking.”

“Oh.”

You slowly pull your hoodie over your head and wince at the burning sensation. You move your bra strap to the side and Bucky carefully inspects the bandages. Blood seeps through them and he’s careful to pull the soiled bandages off your skin and into the trash. He leans forwards to get a better look at the stitching to make sure they’re still intact.

Bucky takes a clean antibacterial wipe and swipes it around the wound, picking up the dry blood and cleaning the area. You wince at the sudden stinging sensation around the sensitive area of your wound. Bucky apologizes under his breath. It sends a chill down your spine.

His fingers are soft and gentle against your skin. His touch is feather light. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s trying his best, all things considered.

He bandages both sides of the wound with incredible care. He’s silent as he works. His eyes are focused and his hands move with incredible ease.

When he’s finished bandaging you up, he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder and it makes you freeze. Your throat tightens and your heart begins to race. Bucky pulls away and your eyes meet. He scratches at the back of your neck.

“Sorry. I used to do that when my sisters got hurt when they were younger. It made them feel better,” he explained with rosy cheeks. He turns to flee the bathroom and you pull him back again.

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s sweet. Thank you,” you said, fixing your hoodie.

He smiles awkwardly at you before finally leaving the bathroom. You follow behind him and ignore the weird feeling inside your chest.

….

You didn’t know what to expect when you went downstairs to the gallery. When you arrived last night, you didn’t have the time to look at the artwork in the building. You were in too much pain to notice what kind of art Sharon dealt with. What you didn’t expect was the number of people that showed up and how it seemed like a dance club rather than an art gallery.

You’re dressed in a nice pair of black pants and matching blouse. Music thunders in your ears and the bass of the music vibrates through your chest. You push through the crowd to get to the bar. You order three tequila shots and pass two of them to Bucky and Sam. You clink the glasses together before downing the liquor. It burns your throat and sends a shiver down your spine.

You nod along to the music and make your way towards the gallery portion of the building. You walk past a number of Monet paintings, and you’re stunned that Sharon was able to get her hands on such priceless pieces. You’ve never been one to analyze paintings and artwork.

You walk around the entire gallery before returning to the bar. Sam and Bucky scowl as they watch Zemo try and dance to the music. You hide your growing smile behind your beer and reach for Sam’s hand, dragging him to the dance floor. He groans loudly but doesn’t pull away.

“C’mon Grumpy Gills, Sharon said to have fun. You don’t look like you’re having fun,” you noted with a teasing smile and a glint in your eyes as you take a sip of your drink. You move your hips along to the beat of the music and Sam rolls his eyes, taking a drink from his beer.

“Shouldn’t you be asking the same thing to Barnes? Why drag me out here instead of him?” Sam asked over the loud music. He slowly starts to nod his head to the music.

You laughed loudly and grinned at him. “I have to split my time evenly between my two children!” you joked. “I can’t make it look like I have a favorite.”

Sam laughs and shakes his head at you. A growing smirk fills his features and he spins you around on the dance floor. “You’re not fooling anyone, sweetheart, least of all me. The two of you are like two lost puppies when you’re around each other. Put the old man out of his misery and tell him how you feel!”

Embarrassment washes over you and you try to hide your face with your arm. Was it really that obvious that you had feelings for Bucky? God, did Zemo notice too? For your sake and sanity, you hope not, and you know you’re not lucky enough to get away with it. He’s a perceptive asshole. The last thing you need is Zemo of all people to mention your behavior that seems more than friendly to Bucky.

It’s the last thing Bucky needs. He’s still healing and dumping your heart out to him is not a good idea. He’s figuring out how to deal with all his trauma and to adjust to life as a Bucky Barnes he’s proud to be. You don’t need to add to it. It’s not the right time and things are too complicated.

You shake your head. You can’t. You won’t. “It’s complicated, Sam. I can’t just dump it on him. He has too much to deal with and I don’t want to add to it.”

Sam shakes his head at you. You’re not surprised that he disagrees with you. He wants to knock some sense into you, but he won’t push it. “That’s not your decision to make though. You’re taking that choice away from him, and he’s had a lifetime of choices taken away from him.”

You take a step away from Sam at his insinuation. Your brows pinch together and you glare at him. “Stop psychoanalyzing me, Sam. You’re not my therapist.”

He scratches the back of his head and you look away from him. He sighs. “Listen, I just want the two of you to be happy, but I won’t push it. I won’t say anything.”

You scoff at him and roll your eyes at him. This is what you get when you try to make Sam relax and have fun. He can’t just turn it off. You push past him and make a beeline towards the elevator. You had lost interest in the party and just wanted to be left alone. Sam ruined your mood and pissed you off.

When the elevator arrives to the top floor, you raid Sharon’s liquor cabinet and open the door to the balcony. You take a seat on the floor and your legs hang from the railing as you drink in silence. You stare out into the skyline and listen to the sounds of the city mix together. It makes you miss New York City.

Car horns blare in the distance as do the sound of the rap of bullets on the other side of town. The light in the city distorts the night sky and the neon lights mix together in perfect harmony.

You’d never admit it out loud or tell Sam, but you know that he’s right. You should give Bucky the choice, but it was so much easier to just ignore your feelings for Bucky rather than just telling him outright. If you told him and he rejected you, it would make things more complicated than they already were, and it was the last thing you wanted.

You don’t think you could handle losing Bucky, especially after Steve. Just like Bucky thought you were his last connection to Steve, you felt the same way towards him, but you’d never tell him. You don’t want him to live up to Steve’s expectations. It doesn’t matter what Steve thought and he was gone. The two of you just needed to move past it.

The balcony door slides open behind you and you don’t bother turning to see who it is that’s joining you. You know that Bucky was the one behind you. He doesn’t say anything as he sits down next to you. You wordlessly pass the bottle of tequila over to him and he takes a drink without a second thought. He passes it back to you.

“What did Sam say to you?” Bucky asked, staring at your side profile. He runs his metal hand through his hair.  

You busy yourself by taking another swig of tequila. You tear your gaze from the skyline and look over at Bucky. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Something I’m not ready to hear,” you answered vaguely. It’s a partial truth and you know that Bucky didn’t expect such a vague answer from you. You don’t want to talk about it, and he respects you enough to not push you to tell him when it’s obviously a sensitive subject for you. You’re not ready. “I guess it’s what I get for trying to get Sam to try and relax and have fun.”

Silence falls between the two of you and you take the time in between to drink. Bucky grabs the bottle from you and sets it beside him. You huff at him and watch him stand up. You look up at him and he holds his hand out for you.

“I’ll have fun with you. Don’t let him ruin the night for you,” he said as he helps you to your feet.

You smile and shake your head at him. You know he’s trying his best and it makes you adore him even more. “There’s no music, Buck.”

He shrugs and pulls you towards him. Your uninjured arm wraps around his neck and his own hands settle on your waist. You let him lead as you sway to the sounds of the city below you. He hums quietly and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“I haven’t danced since 1943,” he hummed matter of factly against the shell of your ear.

“It doesn’t seem like it,” you whispered. “You’re a good dancer.”

He gently twirls you around the balcony and a soft gasp leaves your lips as you cling to him as you’re dipped to the floor. He grins flirtatiously and pulls you back to your feet. For a split second, you see the man he was before the war, the man that Steve spoke so fondly of before he found him in Vienna all those years ago. This is the man that was notorious with the ladies and always took women dancing and stole their hearts. It makes you dizzy just thinking about it.

You hold your breath as his eyes find yours. “It’s all about finding the right partner,” he said, holding you close. “I have one hell of a dance partner, don’t you think, doll?”

Your heart beats erratically against your chest. You feel dizzy and it’s not from the tequila or the dancing. God, does he make you feel weak in the knees. You feel like you can’t breathe with him so close to you. He’s warm and intoxicating and it makes you feel like you’re about to do something stupid.

Your eyes find his cerulean blues and you feel like you’re drowning in him. They’re soft and gentle with a hint of something more hidden behind them. The haunted look in his eyes is gone as he stares at you like you’re the only woman in the world. Is this how women felt back in the 40s when they danced with him?

You stop moving, but you don’t pull apart. You don’t think you have the will power to. You like the way his hands hold your waist and how his touch lingers, making you want more. You’re a puddle in his arms. You only whisper his name as it hangs in the air.

“Yeah, honey?”

He leans forward and rests his forehead against yours. His eyes never leave yours and your fingers grip the back of his black blazer like your life depends on it. His smile is soft and gentle. He doesn’t push or ask questions. He’s the perfect gentleman, but he wants you to make the first move. That much is obvious and you know when to take the hint.

You’re going to do it. You’re going to ask Bucky to kiss you.

He must feel the same, he has to. He wouldn’t say that to just anyone. It makes your heart race at what he’s insinuating. He wants you just as much as you want him. You tug him closer and open your mouth to respond.

You’re immediately cut off and interrupted by a hard knock against the glass door. It makes your heart leap inside your throat and you pull away from Bucky’s arms. Embarrassment washes over you when you realize that it’s Zemo of all people is the one that caught the two of you dancing together on the balcony. He won’t let you live it down now.

He slowly opens the sliding door and looks between the two of you. He smirks and clasps his hands together. “Terribly sorry to interrupt what you’re doing, but Sharon found the doctor. It’s time to go,” he said.

You don’t say anything. You’re too embarrassed and you just wanted Zemo to leave you alone. You don’t have a snarky retort that you’re sure that he’s anticipating. Instead, you nod without uttering a single word and push past him to reenter the building, ignoring the flush you feel.

Zemo and Bucky follow close behind you and the journey to the ground floor is silent as you stand in the elevator. The silence between you and Bucky is suffocating, but you keep your eyes forward and ignore the stares Zemo sent between the two of you.

When the elevator doors open, you race outside and join Sharon and Sam at the front of the building. You ignore the weird look Sam sends you and climb into the front seat without a word as the others trail behind you.

You’re silent the whole way to the docks. You listen to Sharon quietly and keep your gaze out the window. She parks in front of the loading zone and you step out of the car, waiting for Sharon to walk you in the right direction.

Bucky grabs your hand and pulls you behind the rest of the group. It makes your heart race and jump inside your throat. He squeezes it gently.

“You should stay behind. I don’t want you to get hurt again,” Bucky murmured.

Your brows pinch together and you drop his hand. He has another thing coming if he thinks you’re just going to stand around and do nothing. It’s not in your nature. It never has been.

You won’t let whatever’s lingering between the two of you get in the way of doing your job. You don’t care that he wants to keep you safe and look after you. You’ll be fine.

“Is this your way of telling me that I’ll just slow you down?” you snapped, walking past him with a huff, rejoining the group.

Bucky runs after you and shakes his head. “No. You’re injured. I don’t want you to get hurt again. I just want you to be safe.”

“I’ll be fine. Let it go.”

You walk away from him and enter the metal container after Sam. Sharon’s voice echoes through your ear and your hands trail against the back of the container and gently push against it. It opens under the pressure on your hand and you turn your head to look at Sam.

You pull your gun out of its holster and hold it out in front of you. You let Sam lead the way and you follow close behind. You're soft on your feet as you walk further into the building. You can hear music ahead and it grows louder as you walk through the lab and see the back of Dr. Nagel.

Sam pulls the needle of the record player off, stopping the music and the doctor spins on his heels. You aim your gun at him as he looks between the two of you. His eyes widen as he looks behind you. You know that without looking that Bucky stands just behind you like a lingering shadow. You don’t know if he’s doing it to intimidate the doctor or to protect you.

Bucky moves from behind you and stalks over to Nagel. He presses his gun against the doctor’s temple, shooting a warning shot just beside him in an effort to get him to talk. Dread washes over you when you realize that the man standing in front of you is responsible for the serum that Karli and some of her followers had taken and that there were 20 or so of them running around the world causing chaos.

“Is there more serum in this lab?” Bucky asked, pressing the gun further against his temple.

“No,” Nagel answered. “Karli took them all. She wanted me to give the serum to some woman named Donya Madani and I refused.”

You roll your eyes and glance around the lab. Sharon shouts in your ear, telling the four of you that it was time to go now that bounty hunters were here looking to kill you. You look at a number of vials that were a variety of different colors and keep a close eye on Zemo as he wanders around the lab.

You should’ve seen it coming. You should’ve kept a closer eye on Zemo as he walked around when he shot the doctor in the chest, killing him instantly. Sam knocks the gun out of his hand and pins him against the wall. You aim your gun at Zemo’s head when Sam lets him go.

“Give me one good reason not to kill him right now, Sam,” you snapped. “He killed our one and only lead!”

Bucky rests a hand on your shoulder and you brush him off, glaring at him. “We need him, Y/n.”

“The hell we do! He killed our lead!”

“We need to leave, now!” Sharon shouted, running into the lab, completely ignoring the dead doctor on the floor.

Suddenly, you’re flown from your feet as the lab bursts into flames. Your body slams against the container and it knocks the wind out of you. Your shoulder burns with pain and there’s ringing in your ears. Pain erupts against your spine and you’re in a daze. You can barely breathe. You groan and gasp loudly. You roll on your side and can barely pull yourself up. You can’t see straight and you feel like you’re about to puke.

The sounds of Bucky and Sam yelling your name feels so far away. You can barely make out Bucky’s blurry figure above you as he hauls you to your feet. You sway on your feet and Bucky’s hands grasp at your face, gently shaking you out of your daze.

You stumble out of the container and the sound of bullets fill your ears. You still can’t see straight and can barely hear Sam and Bucky yell at one another over the bullets and ringing in your ears. You duck under some shrapnel and squeeze your eyes shut.

Bucky drags you from the shrapnel you’re hiding under and you run down a number of corridors until you hide into an empty container. Your breathing is short and shallow and your head spins. Bucky holds your face in his hands and you see his mouth move, but you can’t hear anything he’s saying to you.

You pull your body away from his and stumble to the back of the shipping container. You keel over and everything you’ve eaten and drank over the last day and a half leaves your system. Your body burns with pain and you drag yourself back towards Sam and Bucky.

You stumble into Sam’s chest and he holds you up by the waist. He helps you out of the container as Zemo approaches in a sleek convertible. You blink rapidly to focus your gaze and weakly attempt to step away from the car and out of Sam’s hold.

“No. I’m not spending another second with Zemo,” you said.

“We need him,” Bucky attempted to reason with you.

You glare at him and Sam wordlessly climbs into the back with you beside him. You’re silent the whole way to the plane as you try and gain your bearings again. You know without looking that the stitches in your shoulder were torn open due to the explosion. You feel the blood soak through your shirt as the pain slowly increases.

Sam helps you up the steps to the plane and guides you to the back of the aircraft. You sit down and Bucky hurries over to your side with a first aid kit in his hands. You huff childishly and attempt to push him away.

“I’m pissed at you,” you stated matter of factly under your breath. You look out the window to keep from looking at him.

“I know,” Bucky replied, gently tearing your shirt from your body, leaving you in just your bra as he moves to inspect your wound.

Sam hands you a bottle of water and you drink it slowly. “I’m pissed at you, too.”

Sam laughs, nodding at you. “I know.”

“I should be relaxing in the mountains of Montana, but noooo, you insisted that you needed my help. Here I am with a bullet wound because you assholes can’t do anything without me. I expect full compensation when this shit is over.”

Bucky and Sam both laugh quietly at you. Bucky’s fingers are soft and nimble as he cleans the area around your wound. Sam leaves the two of you alone and sits at the front of the plane to keep an eye on Zemo.

You wince as the needle pierces your skin. Bucky apologizes under his breath as he stitches your wound closed again. You watch him carefully as he fixes you up. His eyes are razor focused and his brows are pinched together as he takes care of you.

“We really need to stop ending up like this,” you hummed teasingly at him. “You’ve seen me in just a bra far too much in the last couple of days and I haven’t even seen you without a shirt.”

Bucky grunts in response. “Maybe if you stopped hurting yourself, I wouldn’t have to see you without a shirt on,” he said. “Someone has to look after you and take care of you. You and I both know you much rather it be me instead of Bird Brain.”  

You laugh softly and grin at him. “Hmm…. maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am, honey.”

You shove him gently and the smile he gives you makes your heart stop. You shake your head and bite the inside of your cheek. He leans back on his thighs and reaches for your abandoned duffle bag and carefully zips it open. He grabs a clean shirt from your bag and helps you into it.

You thank him quietly and he presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. You lean into his touch and he takes the seat beside you.

You fall asleep to the feeling of Bucky’s hand in yours, his fingers brushing against the back of your palm.