#like a toddler that's overtired
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
fuck it, my helendale breakup playlist will fix me
#gonna think about Them <3 while i attempt to get through everything i need to do#im slowly but surely getting there but i reckon i need sleep and that's why i feel SO emotionally shit in particular#like a toddler that's overtired#oh man i wish it was newsreader sunday rn i miss the show so damn bad#i had a newsreader dream the other day actually it was REALLY random in all possible ways#organised crime. dale's dad back from the dead (and fancast by my brain?). girl power from helen. all taking place at my house but 10yrs ag#my post tag
1 note
·
View note
Text
rookanis players: why isnt Lucanis' romance more passionate, more physical!! Why is he so subdued and quiet!! You barely even kiss!! Lucanis, fresh out of a year in a demonic torture pit, having just had one of his two remaining family members taken from him just as he's freed, almost losing Treviso to the elvhen gods which are a) apparently real and b) that he's apparently now responsible for killling and who, oh yeah, also is always literally on the brink of exhaustion because he can't sleep or his spite demon goes around causing mischief and sniffing people: rook, mi vida, please give me a break
#i love my tired man he's done nothing wrong 😭#datv#datv spoilers#da:v#da:v spoilers#rookanis#rookanis spoilers#rook x lucanis#lucanis dellamorte#spite dragon age#if you stand around and watch Lucanis while he's sitting on his little cot he ends up bobble heading like an overtired toddler#please guys he'd kiss Rook so passionately if he wasn't seeing like four of their faces overlapping at any given moment#the spirit is willing
281 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tripitaka, when confronted with the most indescribably beautiful young woman on the planet: >:( Hey! Wukong said there weren't any people around here!
#jttw personal#jttw#chapter 27#that's literally all he got from that#what an icon#also: tripitaka is such a BRAT when he's hungry. it was annoying the first time I read it but now it's mostly just funny#get this man a snickers bar#wukong needs to start carrying emergency snacks like a tired parent#tripitaka: i'm STARVING#sun wukong currently single-handedly escorting them through this entire mountain: and what do you want ME to do about it?#tripitaka: *oFFENDED GASP*#tripitaka: *immediately brings out the i SAVED YOU from your PERSONAL HELL card which is like*#*bringing a nuke to a slap fight but I guess the man is feeling real serious about lunch right now*#and also:#tripitaka - not done: and does our TEACHER and DISCIPLE bond mean NOTHING TO YOU??!#tripitaka - still not done: *literal seconds from throwing himself on the ground and refusing to move like an overtired toddler*#*FUCK the Buddha's mission*#sun wukong: okay oKAY FINE I WILL FEED YOU#the real reason the white bone spirit story is such a shitshow: tripitaka's hangry literally the whole time#and also you can tell he's still not over getting his trust in wukong shattered with the bandits from way back in the beginning of the book#but you know#hangry monk is funnier
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Trying to not hate myself for my bad sleeping habits like, Um Actuallyyyyy... I do take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three
#It's not even cool I just think they taste better and I stay up late like an overtired hyper toddler#Health tag
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
trying to stay up for new years vs my old man ass that goes to bed at fucking 7:30
#( * / out of character ; personal. )#it is now 10:08 pm & I am ✨ not doing good ✨#not nodding off or anything but I can tell I’m overtired like a#fucking toddler that stays up past its nap time ya know ??
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#guhhhhhhhh am very sore rn#worried a lot about getting on peoples nerves complaining but god i can't. lie comfy.#need to sleep but I'm uhh overtired i think#like a crotchety toddler#personal
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Angry? Go have a little snack. Feel worthless? Have a nibble of something. Want to give up on everything? Munchity munch
stressed? take a little nap. feel unlovable? snooze it out bestie. want to end it all? snork mimimi
#This applies to drinking water too btw#and also showering#i generally refer to this method of self care as 'trearing myself like a toddler'#everything is too much?#have you had some water yet?#are you in yesterday's clothes still?#when did you last eat?#are you overtired?#i have a particularly hard time with fhese but if I frame it as asking my kid sibling it gets a lot easier
15K notes
·
View notes
Text
fellas. lads. besties. i have 2 be honest with u. i am feeling not so great
#lostwod.txt#rambling#vent#like its fine. but also the despair is crushing#in my ''i haven't done enough today'' era yknow#except ''today'' is also ''ever in my entire life''#like i have. i have done a lot. both today and in general. but fucking god#i hate all of it so muhc.#yknow what. i think i'm probably in my overtired toddler era actually#yknow. where kids will scream and kick and bite bc everything is AWFUL but also they are NOT tired (they are Clearly tired)#i am so bad at this. good night
1 note
·
View note
Text
What do you mean it's only Wednesday
#i feel like an overtired toddler#i need a hug and a nap#neither of which I'll be getting today#personal
1 note
·
View note
Text
have been taking the boys out on a walk almost every day now that the weather is turning. we’re running on a hamster wheel constantly trying to keep up with enough enrichment for seven so he doesn’t get bored and take it out on si, and even with being contained in the stroller instead of going out on a leash it has been helping a lot.
today we saw many crows, a couple of finches, a blue jay, a woodpecker, and a rabbit!
#sotd#this is a cat blog#when we got home they got lunch and then sev got isolated so he’d be forced to take a much-napped nap#like a toddler he gets overtired and becomes miserable to be around
1 note
·
View note
Text
Esme was yelling at other people from across the room so i took her to the bedroom and promised her she wouldn't miss dinner and please take a nap. She's there now.
#cats#esme#yelling at other people as in other cats i mean#she's like a toddler and gets overtired sometimes and you need to have her take a nap to be civil later
0 notes
Text
I want magic sleepy juice!
Just lil *sip sip* and then asleep!!!
#please!!#every night is like I'm trying to get a 3 year old to sleep#but it's me#I'm both the overtired toddler and the stressed and exhausted mum!#talk
0 notes
Text
Half asleep, still thinking about Celeborn and his field medic adopted daughter meeting his long lost wife on the battlefield. Galadriel meets not only her ghost of a husband, but also he has a daughter now. Elrond met Celebrían and immediately tripped over air, though maybe that was exhaustion. Everyone is beat to hell and can't process their feelings properly.
All right. Here's what I've been thinking about though:
Celeborn falling apart in the aftermath of the war. Beleriand literally crumbling down around everyone, the water pouring in. Everyone lost people in that desperate time-- and he was a soldier wounded in body and mind-- he was lost. He lost her. Galadriel. And he lost others, too, comrades and friends from Doriath, Sirion-- blood and bodies beneath the waves, so many ghosts.
There was a point where he just... it felt like he crawled through the years. Existing, wandering, lost, lost, lost. Eventually, he found other Sindar-- Oropher who had never liked him much, Amdír who liked him well enough. Amdír said, stay with me and help our people, and so Celeborn did. They go to Edhellond first, where Celeborn loses his voice again entirely, drawing inward and trying to shield himself from painful memories of Sirion-- and then Amdír leads them to Lórinand, which Celeborn likes better. He's always felt much more at home in forests than by the sea or under a hill.
There is a little girl with silver hair, an orphan of the war. He doesn't adopt her so much as she adopts him. One day, she marches up to him and puts her tiny hand in his and orders him to tell her about the flowers that cover the ground and the birds that roost in the trees. He does his best, though his voice is a little rough. He helps her climb up a very tall tree. When she scrapes her hands, he cleans the little cuts, kisses them better at her request. When she is tired, he carries her back to where the other motherless, fatherless children stay. She clutches the end of his long silver braid in her sleep.
She's so young, all her family gone. She doesn't remember what her parents called her beyond endearments, but something in her bearing reminds him of-- well. The first time she makes him laugh, he calls her a little queen. So it's rían. Celeborn's rían. Celebrían.
He and Galadriel were waiting to have children until the war was over. Until there was peace in the land and in their hearts. Sometimes there is something like peace in the rolling hills and the whispering trees. But not all the time. And not often in his heart.
He dreams about Galadriel dancing in starlight and sunlight before shadows creep across his vision and steal her away. There's a pull in his heart to the world beyond, but he doesn't leave. But he doesn't leave the forest.
He stays and raises Celebrían as his own. He stays where his daughter can always find him.
The settlement in Lórinand grows. Amdír and Celeborn argue about establishing ties with the high-king beyond the Hithaeglir. Amdír wants nothing to do with the Noldor, but Celeborn talks him into at least having scouts out in the world beyond their forest, to gather news if nothing else. Amdír puts Celeborn in charge of them and of the border guard.
Celeborn misses his friends, his fellow marchwardens, Mablung and Beleg, long dead now, their bones in the ocean. He weeps when he tells Celebrían stories of the home he can never show her. Doriath. Sirion.
Celebrían's hand is still small in his, even when she is grown. She takes up healing as a profession. When his voice fails him, she waits for him to find it again. She listens to all of his stories.
She is there when they first see the haze of smoke in the sky and feel the rumbling of the earth. There are people out there who need our help, she says, we should do what we can to aid them-- and so. They gather intelligence from the scouts, reluctant approval from Amdír, and a small force of Sindar and Silvan.
They march under the sun and stars and-- in Eregion, Celeborn and his daughter find a ghost. Galadriel, on the battlefield, no longer lost.
#rough drafts#celeborn#galadriel#celebrian#my fic#i'm really overtired like a toddler right now#rings of power#lord of the rings#celeborn x galadriel#to write list
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
I forgot how much steroids wreck me, eugh. Why does something that is meant to help me leave me feeling like dog crap?
#i haven't even begun the taper yet this is going to be fun#and by fun i mean awful and gross and my coping skills will be that of an overtired toddler#fibromyalgia go home you are drunk#chronic pain in my ass#body why are you like this#ali text
0 notes
Text
All hands on deck -Part 3
Parings: Poly!Taskforce141 X Wife!Reader
Warnings: None?
Word count: 7844
Not beta read or edited, all mistakes are mine.
Previous: Part 2
2 months. 8 weeks. 56 days.1,344 hours. 80,640 minutes.
That’s how long John, Kyle, Simon and Johnny had been gone.
You rest your head on your hand, sitting on the dark brown chair in the corner of the playroom. Your mug of peppermint tea sitting on a coaster next to you, Right next to the book Kyle was reading before he left. Hope sits on the floor, smashing wooden blocks together, her little cheeks flushed pink. Her short brown hair pulled up in two tiny pigtails. Theo lays on the oversized bean bag, rubbing his eyes furiously.
“Mama,” he whines, and you look over, blinking rapidly as you focus on the 4 year old.
“Yes baby?”
“I want Papa!” he cries, head tipping back as a harsh sob leaves his lips.
“I know baby, i know,” you frown, standing from your chair, walking over to the overtired toddler and picking him up.He presses his face into the side of your neck.
“I want Papa,” he whines again, his voice tired. For the past 2 weeks Theo had refused to go to bed, throwing monumental fits, throwing himself to the ground and crying for hours. Nothing you did soothed him, it always ended the same way, you sitting outside his bedroom door, your own tears trailing down your cheeks as you listened to him cry himself to sleep. The days with him weren't much easier, his overtiredness causing every small thing to be a battle. He had started going after Hope, hitting her, biting her, and then in turn hitting you when you tried to break them up.
The only saving grace for your sanity was that the older children had school during the day. With 3 of your 5 children gone from the house 8 hours a day you were at least able to have some semblance of order. But the house was nowhere near where you wanted it to be. The dishes piled up in the sink. Laundry wasn't done, and the entire house needed to be deep cleaned. But there wasn't enough time in the day.
You felt like you were drowning, an engine running without gas. Between waking up at every small sound in the house, Theo’s refusal to sleep, and getting up at 5am each morning to get breakfast and lunches done for the older kids. Not to mention the never ending errands you had to run, going to the grocery store, bringing Kira to gymnastics, Joseph to football, Isla to ballet.
You were exhausted.
Theo sniffles into your neck, and you rub his back gently, trying to soothe him.
“I want Papa,” he says softly, his tears soaking the collar of your pink blouse.
“I know, I wish I knew when he was going to be home,” you breathe. Your lips brush over his cheek, your hand making small circles on his back. Hope toddles over to you, her hands gripping your pant legs. Her big blue eyes turned up towards you.
“Up! Up!” she demands, her hands pulling on your yoga pants. You crouch and pick her up, settling her on your other hip. Theo notices and reaches over smacking her in the face. It takes Hope a moment to register what happened and she starts screaming.
“Theo!” you scold, putting the 4 year old on his feet. He stares up at you with his brown eyes. Tiny brows furrowed in anger.
“No! No Hope! I don't like her!” he screams, raising his tiny fists to beat against your leg. You cradle Hope to your chest as Theo beats on your thigh. Big tears stream down her cheeks, a tiny hand print on her face,
“Theo we don't hit, it's not nice.” You sigh, looking down at him. His face is red and angry as he continues to hit you. “Damnit Theo ENOUGH!” You yell, and he stops immediately, his lower lip trembling. You watch as his face scrunches up and he starts to scream.
“I no like you Mama!” he screeches before he takes off from the playroom, his angry footsteps disappearing down the hall. You close your eyes, your head pounding, Hope still crying softly in your arms. Theo’s angry screams down the hall, you take a deep breath. Trying to compose yourself, as you walk down the hallway.
“Do you want some strawberries? Will that make you feel better?” You ask Hope, and she stops crying almost immediately. You shake your head, she was definitely one of your husbands kids, food seemed to be the cure all for her. You walk down the hall and set her in her highchair. You see Theo’s feet peeking out from under the island counter, but don't say anything. You know if you said something to him he would just lash out at you. He was like a tightly wound spring, one wrong move and he exploded.
You grab the container of berries from the fridge and start cutting them into small pieces, plating them on one of Hope’s tiny pink plates. You deposit them on her tray and she digs in, hands fisting as much fruit as she can. She shoves fistfull after fistfull into her mouth. Strawberry juice dribbled down her chin, staining her yellow dress pink.
A little hand grabs the bottom of your pants as you put the knife into the kitchen sink. You glance down, Theos small hand grips the black fabric tight. You kneel down, knees cracking as you come face to face with your overtired four year old.
“Sowwy Mama…” he says softly, looking down at the cream tile.
“I accept your apology, but we don’t use our hands to hit people. It’s not nice, Hope didn’t do anything to you. I know you miss Papa, Dad, Da and Daddy. I wish I could make them appear so they could hug you sooo tight they squish all the sad outta you, but I can’t. And I miss them too, Theo. It’s okay to be upset, but it’s not okay to use your hands to hurt people, okay?” You rub your fingers over the backs of his hands, and he nods. Brown curls falling into his face, you brush them back smiling softly at him.
“C’mon, how about you have a snack before we go pick up the twins and Isla from the bus stop, does that sound nice?” You reach for him, pulling him to his feet. He nods, “we have any blueberries?”
“We sure do,” you smile, and Theo races to a chair, scrambling up it. He rests his elbows on the table, and watches as you grab them from the fridge and put them back in a bowl for him.
You take a seat opposite of him, watching as he eats the small blue fruit. Your head resting on your hand, your head still pounds. Each beat of your heart is like a hammer in your head. You rub your temples, wincing as Hope starts to bang her plate on the high chair tray.
“More! More! More!” she laughs, the plate clattering to the floor.
“Okay, okay, you can have a few more,” you push back your chair, grabbing her plate from the floor, you squick some blueberries for her, and give her back the plate. Theo and Hope eat their fruit happily, your eyes flickering to the clock on the wall. It was almost time to go to the bus stop to get the other kids.
“Eat up my friends, we gotta go get your siblings in a moment,” you muse, walking down the hall. You collect Theo and Hope's shoes, after slipping on a pair of flats. Theo’s dinosaur sneakers are tattered and in need of replacing. You sigh as the velcro closure hangs on by mere threads. It was always something. You kneel in front of Hope’s highchair and slide her baby pink crocs onto her feet. Her face smeared in pink and purple juices from her snack. You wipe her mouth with your sleeves, staining your shirt. You could hear Simon's voice in your head, grumbling about trying to get stains out of your shirts. A smile ticked up on your lips, he did most of the laundry when they were home. He claimed the monotonous task quieted his mind, much like when he cleaned his gun. He would always scold you for using your shirt or pants to wipe the various messes off the children. At one point he was convinced you did it just to punish him.
Not that it was your intention. You never did it maliciously to give him more to do, but with 5 kids it was faster to just use your shirt or pants to wipe small messes than find a rag. There was barely enough time to use your shirt before they smeared it over the furniture.
The clock on the wall chimes, 3pm, the soft melodic song pulling you from your thoughts. You quickly slip on Theo’s shoes, and pull Hope from her high chair.
“Lets go my friend, time to get the others,” you hold your hand. Theo climbs off the chair, shoving his last berry in his mouth. His tiny hand slips into yours, as you walk down the hall. Pulling open the front door you glance around, hoping that maybe the black sub they took to base would be pulling down the driveway, but it was empty. Only the discarded bikes and sidewalk chalk there. The chalk drawings faded from the sun, and various shoes walked across it.
The bus stop was at the end of your street, about a 5 minute walk from your house. Theo holds your hand the whole way, eagerly looking at the houses as you pass them. He points out all the different color flowers that are starting to bloom in your neighbors yards. A group of parents stand at the end of the street, all of them talking among themselves.
“Mama! Piper!” Theo exclaims tugging on your hand as he spots his friend. Piper was your next door neighbor Maria’s daughter. She was the youngest of 3, only a few months older than Theo.
“Alright go on, but stay on the grass,” You call after him as he pulls away from you, little legs carrying him towards the red headed toddler. Piper notices his running, and jumps up and down tugging on her mothers dress. Maira says something to her and she runs up to Theo, pulling him over to the grass on the edge of the street. Threry sink into the grass, plucking flowers from the ground and making them into a pile.
“Hey” Maria greets you as you walk up to the group. A few other parents giving you a small wave.
“Hi,” You smile, shifting Hope higher on your hip.
“Hello Little Missy,” Maria greets Hope, her hands coming to snatch her from you. She settles Hope on her hip, Hopes hands playing with the beaded necklace she wears. ‘How’ve you been? Have they come home yet?”
“Not yet,” you shake your head and Maria reaches out, her hand squeezing your arm lightly.
“I’m sorry, love, hopefully they’ll be home soon,” she gives you a reassuring smile.
“I hope so,” you run your hand through your hair. “The past few weeks have been a lot.”
“You look tired, if you need anything let me know,” Maria pats your arm. “I’ll watch this little cutie for you any day, and Piper had been begging for Theo to come over and play. Maybe we can set up a playdate for them later this week? I can take them for a few hours and you can get some rest.”
Your eyes water, Maria was always so kind to you. She knew what it was like to have a husband who was gone alot. Her own husband worked a lot overseas in the states, she would often just stop over with a meal for your family when she knew the guys were gone.
“Oh hun, don’t cry.” She whispers, pulling you towards her. Her arms wrapping around your shoulders, Hope smushed between you two as she embraced you.
“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you wipe at the tears that collect on your lower lash line.
“Don’t apologize, you’ve got a lot on your plate, I’ get overwhelmed with 3, I can’t imagine 5. Kids are a lot of work, and it’s not like they’re sitting in an office somewhere like my Michael. They’re out god knows where putting their lives on the line. I at least get the comfort of knowing Michael is in a hotel room each night safe. I couldn’t imagine not knowing where my husband was, if he was alright. And you have not 1 but 4 people to worry about.” Her hand rests on your shoulder, the warmth from her palm seeping through the fabric of your shirt.
“I know, I just feel so stupid being upset by it. It’s been almost 8 years of dealing with it. I mean god, I’ve been with them since I was 18,” you sniffle, taking a deep breath.
“8 years is a long time, they’ve been your safe place for most of your adult life. It’s hard to not know when you’ll get that security back. No one is judging you for having a hard time.” She adjusts Hope in her arms, switching her to the other hip. She studies you for a moment, before she leans in. “If there’s something you need to talk to me about, I’m a pretty good secret keeper.” Her eyes drift to your stomach before she looks back at your face. A suggestive smile on her lips.
“Oh, no! No!” You wave your hands in the air. “That’s not it at all, I haven’t even gotten my period back since Hope stopped breastfeeding. Soon hopefully,” you laugh, as the bus pulls up to the end of the street.
“Okay..” Maria hums, handing your youngest back to you. Theo runs over to you grabbing your leg as he watches the bus doors open. A few neighborhood kids get off before you 3 do. Joseph spots you first, his black backpack over one shoulder, he runs over. Kira and Isla follow.
“Are they home yet Mama?” Joseph asks, hope flaring in his blue eyes. Blue eyes that looked exactly like Johnny’s.
“Not yet Babe, soon though,” you pat his head, running your fingers through his short brown hair.
“It’s okay Mama,” he sighs, a frown on his lips as he shrugs his backpack up higher. Isla skips over, her bright pink sneakers lighting up.
“C’mon Theo I'll race you home!” Isla teases her younger brother, and they both take off. Isla clearly lets Theo stay ahead of her, she steps far shorter than normal.
“Stay on the side of the road please! And where I can see you!” You call after them. Kira and Joseph walk next to you. Both of them are unusually quiet on the walk home. Isla coaches Theo on stopping at each mailbox on the way back to the house. Always looking over her shoulder to make sure you weren't far behind.
“Everything okay?” You ask, bumping your hip into Kira’s shoulder.
Her blonde hair has started to come loose from her braid, stray tendrils of hair falling into her face. She shrugs slightly, kicking at a rock with her shoe.
“Someone said that we’re weird because we have 4 Dads and that there's no way we could have 4 dads that three of them aren't really our dads.” Joseph chimes in, swinging Hope's hand back and forth, as he walks next to you.
“That's not true, your fathers are most definitely your dads. They all love you,” you frown.
“But it’s true isn't it? I'm Daddy’s and Joseph is Da’s, Theo is Dad’s, and Hope and Isla are Papas… That's why my hair is blonde like Daddy’s and Theo’s skin is brown like Dads. Joseph, Isla and Hope all have blue eyes and brown hair because Da and Papa have brown hair and blue eyes,” Kira crosses her arms over her chest, one hand playing a strand of her blonde hair.
“Yes, you’re right about that. You may look like Daddy, but who reads you a story every night when he's home?” You touch her shoulder gently as you reach your driveway.
“Dad does,” She looks up at you with furrowed brows.
“And who makes you whatever you want for breakfast on sunday morning?”
“Papa…” she trails off.
“And who gives you the best hugs when you’re sad? Besides me of course.” You smile,
“Da..”
“And who plays whatever game you want, whenever you want?”
A smile forms on her lips, “daddy.”
“And all of those things are what Fathers do for their kids right?” You ask, setting Hope down in the front yard and she takes off towards Theo and Isla.
“Mhmm..” she stands in front of you, as you crouch down. Your hands holding hers, giving them a soft squeeze.
“So just because you might be Daddy’s kid biologically, doesn't mean your fathers don't love any less, or love any of the other kids more. All of them love so much, and they would do anything for any of you guys. They are no less your dad just because you don't have the same blood type or the same hair color. Because family isn't about who you’re related to, it's about who loves you. If you were to ask any of them how many kids they had, they would say they have 5 beautiful, smart, kind and caring kids. Kids they love more than anything in the entire world, and nothing will ever change that. A lot of people have more than one Mom or dad. You remember Sophie right, she used to live down the street before she moved.” You gently tuck some of the loose hair behind her ear.
“Yeah, Sophie had two Moms because her Dad married someone else after her mom died,” She nods a small smile on her lips.
“So see, people can have more than one or dad, because all that matters is that they love you. So next time someone is mean to you, you just remember that your fathers love you so much, Kira. And nothing will ever change that.” You pull her to you and hug her, her arms wrapping around your neck. Her blonde hair tickles your cheek as she hugs you tight. Over her shoulder you watch as Hope chews on Islas backpack strap, Theo and Isla rolling around in the grass, Isla doing forward rolls and Theo trying to copy his older sister. Joseph watches you and Kira from the front steps. A smile forming on his lips, as you smile at him.
Your poor sensitive boy had been worried about Kira, he didn't like it when she was upset. Even as a baby whenever Kira would cry his little body would stiffen up, all his muscles tense until someone comforted her. For the longest time you had them sleeping in the same cot. When you tried to separate them they screamed and cried. You had been worried about safe sleep, insisting that they sleep separately. It was Kyle who suggested putting them in the same cot. After 5 days of little to no sleep you finally caved, and as soon as you laid Kira next to Joseph they both drifted off instantly. Little bodies pressed against each other.
It made sense, when you thought about it. They had only ever known life with another person stuck to their side. They couldn't understand why it had changed when they were born.
Now looking at your almost 8 year olds your heart aches. You loved them fiercely and the thought of people giving them a hard time about their dads made you crazy. Why couldn’t people just leave it alone, it’s not like you were hurting anyone. Your lifestyle didn’t cause anyone harm, no one was dead because you had four husbands.
There wasn't some catastrophic event that would happen because you found happiness in the arms of four men.
“Okay, Mama,” Kira pulls back slightly so there's some distance between you two. “Can we get pizza for dinner?”
You can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you, and you give her a small nod. “Sure Baby, let's all go inside. I’ll help you with your homework and then we’ll order pizza.”
Your back rests against Theos bedroom door, your ass went numb an hour ago. He had stopped crying, the camera app pulled up on your phone showing him laying across his bed, little legs hanging off his bed. His mouth opens as he snores softly.
After dinner it was a shit show. Hope threw up all her pizza, Theo decided to draw on the walls, Kira and Joseph got in a huge screaming match over whose turn it was to pick a movie. And Isla had accidentally run into the glass cabinet in the dining room and broke it, earning herself a small cut on her hand.
Your night ended with Theo throwing the world's longest tantrum because his Papa still wasn't home to tuck him in.
You weren't sure how much more of this you could take. Your entire body hurt, your head pounded with each beat of your heart. Every muscle felt like you went 10 rounds with Simon. Your head knocks softly against the door, as you look up at the white ceiling of the hallway.
It was almost 2 in the morning and despite how bone crushingly tired you were, you couldn't find it in you to get up. To crawl into your massive bed and lay there, missing your men. Sleeping alone for most people was a luxury, especially for someone who had as big of a bed as yours. But to you, the empty bed with more pillows and blankets than one person could need was a constant reminder that they weren't home.
You had tried calling their cell phones earlier, knowing that it would just go straight to voicemail. You had just needed to hear their voices, hoping it would give you the strength to get through the night.
Tears prick the back of your eyes, your throat constricting with emotion. You missed them so much it was starting to physically hurt. You could feel the hole in your chest growing with each passing day. You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, and they started to fall rapidly. Your breathing turns harsh and rapid as you fold over on yourself. Hands gripping your knees as you sob. Your spine digs into the hard wood of the door behind you, but you barely notice. The physical discomfort is no match for the bone deep ache in your heart. Each breath is like a million tiny needles embedding into your lungs as you struggle to pull in oxygen.
Your soft sobs echo through the hallway, and you’re honestly surprised you haven’t woken one of your children. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you bite back a scream that threatens to rip from you. Your vision becomes spotty as you hyperventilate, and eventually it becomes too much and you drift off into a dreamless sleep.
Warm hands, soft voices, the smell of jasmine and vanilla. Another set of hands, these ones larger. A different scent, one of gunpowder and leather.
“C’mon Darling, open your beautiful eyes,” a gruff voice coaxed.
John.
“She’s not runnin’ a fever…” another voice, this one laced with an accent.
Johnny.
“Baby? Can you hear us?” A warm palm brushes over your forehead.
Kyle.
“Give her a minute, the poor thing looks exhausted.”
Simon.
Your eyes flutter open and you blink at the harsh overhead light from the ceiling fan over your bed. People swim at the edges of your vision and you rub your eyes, trying to focus. When you pull your hands away from your eyes, you have a sudden feeling of Deja vu. Four sets of eyes peer down at you. Two sets of blue, two sets of brown.
“There you are,” John's lips tip up in a small smile.
“I’m not dead right?” You whisper, voice hoarse.
“No, Baby, you’re alive,” Kyle laughs slightly, his warm hand coming to brush along your cheek. You lean into his hand, the warmth from his fingers seeping into the skin of your cheek. You look at the others, they’re still wearing their fatigues, you push yourself up onto your elbows.
“When did you get home?” You ask, your gaze landing on Simon. He stands against the wall opposite your bed. Eyebrows furrowed as he watched you like a hawk.
“20 minutes ago,” Johnny answers, slipping onto the bed next to you, he pulls you towards him. He cradles you against his chest, his lips brushing your cheek.
“You were asleep outside Theo’s door, you look exhausted Darling,” John puts his boonie hat on the dresser, and pulls his gun out of the waistband of his pants. He walks over, shoving Johnny over for a second to grabs his as well. John disappears into the walk-in closet and you can hear the beep of the electronic lock for their gun safe.
“Oh…” you murmur as Johnny tucks you under his chin, his hands rubbing up and down your sides.
“I take things have been rough?” Kyle sits on the other side of you. As if on cue, the baby monitor for Theo’s room screeches to life.
“Mama!!! I want Papa!!” Theo’s little voice crackles over the monitor.
John pokes his head out of the closet, wearing a T-shirt and sweatpant. “That’s my cue,” he mutters, walking over to the bed and dropping a kiss to your head. He slips from the room, and a moment later you hear Theo’s bedroom door open.
“Papa?” Theo’s voice is small and sleepy.
“Hi buddy, you looking for me?” John says quietly.
Simon reaches forward and switches off the monitor. Before he disappears into the closet to change as well.
“Missed you Mo Chridhe..” Johnny kisses your shoulder and hair.
“Not as much as I missed all of you,” you smile, grabbing Kyle’s hand and squeezing softly.
“Go change MacTavish, you’re gonna ruin my sheets,” Simon grunts. “Stop hogging the wife too,” he crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at you and Johnny.
Johnny sighs and climbs off the bed and Simon slips into his spot, pulling you basically on top of him. His lips press to the side of your head as he anchors his arms around your waist. You look at his face, the dark circles under his eyes and a new cut through his eyebrow. Every muscle in his body is tense. You feel like you’re cuddling a rock wall more than your husband.
Kyle heads into the bathroom leaving you and Simon alone for a few moments. You rest your head on his large chest, his heart beating frantically against his ribs.
“It’s okay Si… you’re home now.. you can relax,” you gently rub your fingers over his jaw. The muscles twitching under your fingers.
He lets out a long breath, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he presses his mouth to yours. He pours everything into the kiss, his worries, his anxiety, the love he feels for you. He leaves you breathless as he pulls back.
“Get some sleep, Lovie. You need it.” Simon lets you go slightly so you can settle into your spot in the middle of the bed. Kyle flicks the light switch off and climbs in behind Simon, his arm over Simon’s body and resting on your hip. A few seconds later Johnny slips into bed facing you, his hand grabbing yours.your eyes grow heavy as he settles the blankets over you. The soft click of the bedroom door, followed by a slight shift in the mattress as John climbs in, the last thing you remember before you drift off to sleep.
You wake the next morning, bed empty, and you sit up. Did you dream of them coming home?
You glance around the room, but when your eyes settle on John’s boonie hat and Simon’s skull balaclava sitting on the dresser, you know you didn’t.
Slipping from the bed you change into a pair of leggings and a top, quickly brushing your teeth. You can hear laughter from the floor below as you walk down the hall. All the kids' bedroom doors are open, and the scent of pancakes floats up the stairs.
“Daddy! Daddy! Look, this one looks like a smiley face!” Joseph laughs.
“Nice job bud, can you make another?” Simon’s deep voice replies.
You round the corner and pause in the doorway, Theo is snuggled up on John’s chest, as John sits in a chair. His large hands rubbed the four year olds back.
Hope sits in her high chair, Kyle perched on the edge of the table as he rips up a pancake for her. Her tiny hands are grabbing the pieces faster than he can place them.
Kira and Isla are sitting with Johnny at the table eating, their faces covered in sticky syrup, chocolate from the pancakes on their fingers.
“Hi Mama!” Joseph is the first to notice you, your shadowy figure at the edge of the doorway. All eyes snap to you, your children smiling before going back to what they were doing. Your husbands regard you for a few extra moments. Gaz only momentarily before Hope smacks her hands on her tray, demanding the man in front of her rip her pancake faster.
John smiles at you over Theo’s head, his head tipping towards the full coffee pot. He knew you well, the first thing you needed in the morning was a caffeine fix. Johnny watches as you walk to the coffee pot, pouring yourself a cup and adding all your favorite mix ins.
“Did ya sleep well?” He asks, wiping syrup from the table with a wet cloth.
“I did, best I’ve slept in awhile actually,” you hold the warm mug between your hands. You peer over the kitchen island where Simon is standing with Joseph making pancakes. He pours the batter onto the hot griddle before Joseph carefully drops various toppings into it. Blueberries for some, and chocolate chips for others.
“What kind do you want mama?” The boy asks, a smile on his lips as he shoves a stray chocolate chip into his mouth.
“I’m okay baby, thank you,” you walk over kissing his cheek before stretching up on your toes to kiss Simon’s. Simon’s brown eyes flicker over to you, but he doesn’t say anything just observing you.
You slide into a bar stool and watch as they continue to make stacks of pancakes. Once they are out of batter Simon plates two pancakes for Joseph, steering him in the direction of the table for him to eat. You raise your mug to your lips taking a small sip of your coffee. Your nose scrunching as the liquid slides over your tongue. Your stomach rolls slightly as you take another sip. You set the mug down on the counter, looking up to see Simon once again watching you. His hands held the empty bowl of pancake batter.
“Something wrong with the coffee?” He inquires and you swear his eyes can see right through to your very soul.
“I think the cream might be bad,” you push the mug away from you. Suddenly John’s hand is wrapping around the mug and he takes a sip. He’s quiet for a moment before he sets the cup down.
“Kira, Joseph, Isla, get ready for school,” John looks over at the kids who are staring at all of you. They quickly scramble from the room. Their footsteps race up the stairs as they run to their rooms to change.
“When did you find out?” He asks, and you look up at him puzzled.
“What?”
“You don’t have to hide it, baby. We weren’t kidding when we said it before we left.” Kyle pulls Hope from her high chair and comes to stand around the counter with the other two.
“Said what?” You look between Simon, Kyle and John, your eyes flickering between them all. Johnny comes over, dropping the kids plates into the large sink.
“About wanting another bairn,” he crosses his arms over his chest. A smirk on his face as he looks at you.
“I’m not pregnant.” You blurt out, running your hands over your face. When you pull your hands from your face they’re all staring at you with doubtful looks on their faces. “I’m not!”
“The only time you don’t like coffee is when you’re pregnant,” Simon states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“When was your last period?” Kyle asks, shifting Hope up higher in his arms.
“I haven’t gotten one since Hope stopped breastfeeding, that’s normal though,” you cross your arms over your chest.
“Did you not learn anything the last time you thought that?” Johnny laughs, and you cheeks flame. Okay so maybe they had a point, the last time you didn’t get a period after you stopped breastfeeding was when you got pregnant with Isla 3 months after the twins were born.
“Sod off,” you grumble, getting off the stool and storming up the stairs.
“Lovie! Don’t be like that, we aren’t mad!” Simon calls after you, but you don’t miss the laughter in his voice.
“I’ll prove you wrong! Just gimme a moment!” You slam the bathroom door closed, and drop to your knees in front of the bathroom vanity. You pull out baskets of random items. Gauze, kids hair brushes, extra tooth paste, a Barbie doll that went missing months ago. A half used box of tissues, and more. You finally spot what you’re looking for, a box of digital pregnancy tests you kept in the back of the vanity.
You don’t bother shoving anything back under the vanity, as you quickly pee on the test strip and put the blue plastic cover on. You jog back down the stairs, the test in your hand as you place it on the counter in front of them. The little digital screen blinks, the bars creeping ever so slow as you give each of them a glare.
John puts Theo on the floor and the 4 year old runs off, his own tiny feet going up the stairs as he goes to find his siblings. Kyle sets Hope on the counter, and she smacks the countertop with her hands, laughing at the sound that echoes through the quiet kitchen.
“Darling, we want as many children as you’ll give us,” John reaches over and flips the test over so no one can see the digital screen.
“We already have 5, how many more could we possibly need?” You sit on the bar stool, as Simon hands Hope 2 wooden spoons for her to play with. She shoves one in her mouth and waves the other around, almost smacking Gaz in the face.
“I’d like 3 more,” Johnny answers, leaning his forearms against the counter.
“8 Children total?” You stare at him, unable to wipe the slightly horrified look off your face. “You realize that there would be 13 people in our family at that point right?”
“What's got you shaken up Mo Chridhe?” he frowns at you.
“I-I don't know if i can handle 8 kids alone….” You whisper, your voice shaking.
You could barely keep the 5 you had already alive when they were gone. Add in 3 more and you were sure you weren't going to survive. But you loved your children, and had always wanted a huge family. It was something you dreamed of as a child, and you knew how much each of your husbands adored the children. Were you really ready to never have a newborn baby again? Never experience the first time a baby smiles or laughs. Your gaze flickers to Hope, as she sits on the counter top, drool trailing down her chin as she gnaws on the wooden spoon. Kyle watches her, a smile on his face as she smiles at him.
“We talked a lot on this last deployment, and we agreed we would be stepping back a lot,” John comes to stand behind your chair, his hands rubbing up and down your back.
“But you’re the best at what you do… I’d feel terrible if something catastrophic happened because you were home instead of where you were needed.” You look between the 3 of them in front of you.
“Love, here is where we’re needed,” Simon frowns.
“We’ve been doing this for a long time, longer than most task forces. It’s about time we think about passing the baton to another task force anyways. We’ve been talking with Laswell and she’d sent us some files of teams she thinks would be a good fit. We would train them, and we would still be working on base. But we wouldn't be deploying as much, only when we were really needed.” Kyle adds.
“We’ve been asked to help train and teach new recruits, we’ve got a lot of experience in the field, and it's helpful for them to learn from people who have been out there, seen what we have. We’ll still be doing what we love, but we’ll get to come home to our family every night. You won't have to worry if we’ll be coming back every time we walk out the door. You’d get the help with the children, and we’d get to see them more. Spend time with them. We’ve missed a lot over the years and we don't want to miss anymore.” Simon runs hand through his blonde hair, and your eyes fill with tears.
“You’re not just doing it for me right? You want to step back right?” You look over your shoulder at John.
“You’re part of the reason, but we’ve all taken a beating over the years. And it was getting time for us to retire anyways, we’re just doing it a few years earlier. But trust us Darling, we want to be home. Being out there doesn't give us the same thrill it did years ago. Being here, with you, that's what we look forward to.” John runs his fingers through your hair, and you nod.
“Okay,” you breathe, your eyes falling to the flipped over test.
“No matter what it says, we’ll be okay,” Kyle reaches across the table and rubs his fingers over your knuckles.
“What do you want it to say?” Simon asks, drawing your attention to him.
You chew your bottom lip, what did you want it to say?
You were happy with the 5 beautiful children you had. The twins, Isla, Theo and Hope, they were amazing children and you loved watching them everyday. But your family didn't feel complete. You didn't feel done, your heart still longed for more.You loved how close the kids you had now were, they were never alone, they always had someone to play with. And when the time came and none of you were around, they would still have each other.
“I want more,” you finally answer, and all 4 of the men in your life smile.
“Even if it's negative, we’ll keep trying okay?” John kisses the top of your head. Taking one last deep breath you reach forward and pick up the test. You look at all of them as they wait for you to flip it over.
Your hands shake slightly as you flip over the little blue test, 5 sets of eyes peer down at the small screen.
‘Pregnant, 3+’ stares back at you.
Johnny is the first to move as he nearly climbs over Kyle and John to get to you. His arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you from the chair, and spins you around. His face is buried in your neck as he holds you tight.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mumbles as he presses his lips to yours.
“Get out of the way MacTavish,” John grumbles as he pulls you from Soap and into his arms, he presses a kiss to your lips as well. “I love you, thank you for giving us another.
“You don't have to thank me,” You laugh as you kiss him back.
Kyle is next, his hands settling on your waist as he pulls you in, his lips finding yours. “We do, because you’ve already given us 5, and we would never ask for more if it wasn't what you wanted.”
Simon is the last, he pulls you in, his large hands on your hips as he leans down, his forehead bumping yours as you share a breath there. “You sure this is what you want?” He asks softly, you can hear the others move about the kitchen. Kyle takes Hope to put her shoes on. John and Soap call up the stairs for the older children to get their backpacks as they slip their lunchboxes into them.
“I’m sure,” you smile, “I want this.”
“As long as you’re sure,” Simon presses a kiss to your mouth before he hugs you tight. You wrap your arms around him, leaning your head on his chest.
The sounds of footsteps running down the stairs pull you away, Isla, Kira, and Joseph file into the kitchen, their backpacks on, all dressed for school.
“We’re ready, can we all go to the bus stop this morning?” Joseph asks, looking between you and Simon.
“Sure bud, let me just put my shoes on,” you smile, you walk down the hall to grab your shoes and pull them on. The rest of your family waits, as you tie your sneakers. John holds Hope in his arms, Simon holds Theo’s hand, Johnny and Kyle head out the door first. The children followed. You fall in step in the middle of your group, it was warm today. Warmer than normal for this time of year, but you didn't mind it. Although the unusual warmth usually brought thunderstorms.
Those you weren’t too fond of.
As you approach the bus stop you see the normal group of parents waiting with their children. Maria stands next to her two older boys standing with a group of friends, Piper sits on the grass, her little head lifting as you all approach. She waves enthusiastically to Theo, and Theo pulls away from Simon. Running as fast as his little legs will carry him to his friend. They sit in the grass, building a stack of rocks to see who can get it higher.
Maria looks at you, a giant smile on her face as she sees your husband’s with you.
“I see they came back!” she exclaims, as you and the others stop a few steps from her.
“Pleasure to see you again Maria,” John hugs her.
“Glad you made it back,” she smiles, hugging each of them, even Simon who stiffly hugs her back.
“We’ll be around a lot more,” Johnny smiles, his arm snaking around your waist as he pulls you into his side.
“Oh?” Maria looks at them.
“We’re stepping back, we have much more important things here,” John explains, and Maria nods.
“I’m glad you’ll be around more,” she eyes you suspiciously. “Are you still going to tell me I'm wrong?” She gives you a pointed look.
“Ma- y- how does everyone always know before me! It's my bloody body.” You grumble, and Soap laughs.
“We know what to look for,” Kyle kisses the side of your head.
“I just knew because even though you looked knackered, you still looked like you were glowing,” Maria laughs.
“Simon figured it out because of my coffee,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I'm happy for you, dear. If you need anything let me know. Although I wonder how you’ll fit another in that house of yours. You’re quickly outgrowing it,” Maria adds as the bus pulls up. The older children all race off to get onto it, and wave you as they all climb on.
“We haven't figured that much out yet,” you shrug, “I'm sure we’ll think of something.”
“I’m sure you will,” she hugs you. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” you hug her back.
“C’mon Theo! Time to go,” Simon calls and the small boy hugs his friend before he races over.
You wave again to Maria and begin the walk back to the house, Hope having fallen asleep in John's arms. Her brown hair falling into her face as she sleeps peacefully. You look between the four men that walk with you.
“What are we going to do about the room… we don't have any more bedrooms.” You place your hand on your still flat stomach. How long did you have to prepare?
Where would you even put a baby?
Isla still had her own room, and sure you could move Theo into there, but he still wasn't a good sleeper and you didn't want to ruin her sleep by him waking up.
You could move the new baby into Hope's room with her but it might still cause problems with how frequently new babies wake up. She would be almost three and a half by the time the baby was going to be ready for their own room. And you certainly were going to need a bigger dining room table to be able to fit everyone.
“We can always move, we’ve talked about moving in the past. Wanting to get out into the countryside more. It would be a good time to buy right now anyways, interest rates are low. And I'm sure there’s something out in the rural parts that would be plenty big enough for us, and we can always add on. We don't really have enough land with the current house to add on, we’d be building too close to the neighbors.” John explains, as you get to the end of your driveway.
You stare at your house, you’ve been in it for 5 years, having moved in when you were pregnant with Isla, a month before she was due. The twins were still babies themselves. You loved the house, but it was too small for such a large family. With only 5 bedrooms, and 3 bathrooms it was becoming crowded. Your kitchen, although big enough for now, wasn't going to be able to accommodate everyone for much longer. And you always wanted a house with lots of land for the kids to play in. You had a decent sized yard now but it was nowhere near big enough for the swingset the kids kept asking for.
And it wasn't like it was a small house. It had almost 3000 sqft, but when you have 5 children and one (possibly 2) on the way. You needed something bigger. Something with room to grow.
“Okay, we’ll start looking at listings.”
“So we’re gonna move?” Simon confirms.
“We’re moving,”
Next:
#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare 2#x reader#poly tf141#poly!task force 141 x reader#poly!141 x reader#poly relationship#cod mw3#cod modern warfare#cod#cod x reader#codwm x reader#All hands on deck#soap x reader#gaz x reader#ghost x reader#price x reader#x female reader#x you#cod x you#141 x you#141 x reader
638 notes
·
View notes
Text
why does my brain kick and scream like an angry toddler every time i try and do a thing that i need to do
me: come on, time to do laundry
my brain: NOOOOOO DONT WANNA!!! WANNA PLAY GAME!!! WANNA STAY IN BED!!!! DONT WANNA DO CHORE >:( CANT MAKE ME
me, the overtired parent: but we gotta do it brain. we're running out of clothes. come on we gotta go
my brain: WAAAAAAHHHHHHH DONT LIKE YOU >:( YOU BIG MEANIE AND NOT MY FRIEND ANYMORE
691 notes
·
View notes