#babies making baby noises from the pews

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Cont of this

*Wails profusely at the idea of reader walking in on Katsuki and baby play fighting in the nursery*

==================================

The thick mahogany door separating your hall to your living room creaked loudly as you pushed it open before kicking off your shoes. You sigh in relief; you adored your friends, but by god could Mina and Denki talk.

“Katsuki? Keiko? I’m home my babies!” You shouted into the silence of your usually noisy home, before realising that Keiko could be down for a nap.

The delicious aromatic smell of Katsuki’s noodles filtered through the air and enticed you to your spotless kitchen. A small note was left on your kitchen island with Katsuki’s neat handwriting.

Hope you had a good time out with the losers, food’s in the fridge and Kei had his bottle. We’re probably upstairs in the nursery

- love, Ki

You smiled at his loving note, before prepping the food and tucking in.

==================================

After the delectable dish of noodles and vegetables, you meandered your way up the stairs to the large nursery you had for Keiko. You crept the white door open slowly, before tears started pricking at your eyes.

Katsuki was laying on the floor with your chunky baby resting on his chest with a tiny Dynamight costume on. Katsuki was making Keiko punch his face, revelling in his laughter.

“What the hell?! Why is this hero so damn strong?!” He pretended to be scared as he gently manoeuvred Keiko’s tiny fists to make contact with his cheeks. Keiko was giggling away, drooly mouth flashing his proud daddy his singular tooth. Katsuki let out little “pew pew” and “whoopash” noises at every point of contact.

“No more Mr Hero! I’m too weak, don’t punch me again!” He faked groans of pain as he repeatedly made Keiko punch his cheeks, before delivering the final blow.

Katsuki slumped his head to the side as he made convincing sounds of death.

“Blehhhhggg,” he moaned as he died. Keiko laughed loudly as he tried to plunge for his daddy. Katsuki let out his own laugh as he snuggled his baby closer to him.

“This certainly looks like naptime,” you laughed out loud as Katsuki jumped.

“Uhhh. He woke up?” He offered, embarrassed you saw him admit defeat for his son. You shook your head playfully as you approached your two heroes.

You picked Keiko up as he cooed in your arms.

“You did a wonderful job of beating your daddy up, Keiko,” you nuzzled your face into his slightly pink cheeks, earning a babble.

Katsuki smiled widely at his family before groaning at the way his legs had gone numb from the assault from his son. He joined your hug, swaying the three of you softly together. Katsuki pressed small kisses to each of you as Keiko burbled away. You nuzzled your face into Katsuki’s neck, smiling when you feel him smile back.

“I missed you both today,” you murmured. Katsuki continued to smile.

“We missed you too, didn’t we little guy?” He nudged Keiko, who yawned sleepily in response. He rubbed his eyes before nestling into you, breaths slowly deepening as you gave him a gentle goodnight kiss.

“Time for a real nap now, isn’t it sweetheart?” You murmured, giving your husband a pointed look, who only let out a breathy laugh.

“Ain’t my fault he’s a damn good hero.”

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou #domestic bakugou #just him. with his family. ISJRJRNNGNF #*spongebob voice* the gang’s all here. AUGH #Him being so soft and gentle with his baby boy I’m salivating

[divinehedons]

Drabbles??? Like Din eating you out all slow and savoring it, but still making you cum over and over till you're in tears begging for him to fuck you, but maker you just taste so God damn good

YESYESYESYESYES,, may i also add while i have your attention: unintentionally cocky!din djarin x frustrated reader? SO, i present to you:

a taste of paradise

nsfw under the cut, minors DO NOT interact or din will go pew pew!

he gets competitive sometimes, and you enjoy pointing it out at times. you've seen the way he encourages grogu, the way he chuckles, talking in a proud voice whenever the little child makes him proud. he has the same sound whenever you stood beside him, glorious and all his- entirely his.

such was the case of when he had brought you back to his small home, grogu fast asleep as he's pushing you into the nearest bed, helmet pushed off as he kisses you between your attempts to speak, to try and understand what's gotten into him. "din... din-" he shushes you, laying you down amongst the sheets as his gloved hands slowly pushed up your skirts. he looks at you, and you see that starving gaze in his eyes, the soft smirk on his face. he does not wait another moment, even despite your attempts to soothe him, as he sinks between your legs to take a long taste with his tongue.

"maker, riduur, what's gotten into you?" you whisper, and you feel him chuckle once more as his lips wrap around your aching clitoris and just sucking until you cry out in his arms.

when din djarin wants, he does not stop until he satisfies himself. so you allow him, thinking he just wants a quick rush of pleasure.

besides, you always surrender to him anyway.

"that's it, cya're, just give in to it," he whispers, using his gloved fingers to spread you wide open, where you're wet and baby pink, digging into you like you're the very sustenance from life itself. "always so good for me, isn't it?"

he keeps going until you feel your legs shake, whining for him as he only intensifies his minstrations, tongue slipping deep into your cunt, beginning to fuck you with it.

"din!"

"hold it for me, sweet girl, come on, you can do it. just a little more."

a little more, of course, meant hours of teasing you, fucking you with his tongue, his fingers, scratched up by his beard and nuzzled by his nose. no matter how much you beg, how much you try and whine and make all the sweet noises he enjoys.

and you just want to feel the sweet release of an orgasm your beloved dangles just out of your reach. he knows your body more than you could ever understand it, knows just enough to know what would and wouldn't make you tick, make you cum.

"din, maker, you're being so mean, please!" perhaps it was the frustration in your voice, but he stops, looks up at you, your slick coating his beard, his chin...

"oh, adi'ka-"

that is when he finally gives in to you, devouring you until you threw your head back, the riptide all-consuming and so intense, you would be lying if you didn't fade for a moment or so.

"that's it... such beauty, cyari'ka..." you slowly open your eyes to see him looking down at you, safe in his arms as he slowly moves you under the sheets with a chuckle. "you see why i sometimes enjoy pushing your buttons?" he murmurs, nuzzling your jaw with gentle kisses as you groan in his arms. "because when you let go like this... you are just so beautiful."

you smile up at him, cupping his face before you slowly lean up to kiss him lovingly. "do you have to be so mean about it, din?"

he hums, slowly helping you into his arms as you finally settle.

"you are my passion and weakness all in one," he whispers as you drift off to sleep, watching you with soft eyes and a thousand unsaid words. "and if it truly does bother you, i won't do it as much anymore."

#din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin drabble #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian drabble #the mandalorian x reader

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Blood, character death

Chapter: 5.04

“You still miffed that you’re staying?”

You tried to frown at Daryl’s question but couldn’t help but let the seriousness slip and laugh. You were ecstatic on the inside and doubted anything could knock you off the cloud you were drifting on. Beth was alive. Daryl had returned without Carol, but a boy named Noah was with him, who informed your group that Beth was alive. The same people who had taken Carol had taken your older sister, so now Rick was leading the way to bring the both of them back.

Once Beth and Carol were back, you’d be able to regroup with Maggie and Glenn. It filled your heart with so much joy that soon you could be with both your sisters again.

Of course you wanted to go rescue Beth with them, but Rick wouldn’t allow it; he said it was too dangerous, which you understand. “I wasn’t miffed, just disappointed.”

“Yeah right,” Daryl ruffles your hair, and he glances down at the hole you were digging. “That’s a good trench; I’ll see if I can get anymore wood and shit for it before I go.”

Most of the group had made spears out of wood from the pews in the church. You placed the DIY spears in front of the trenches surrounding the building so that any walkers that got too close would be impaled on them.

“Thanks.”

Not long after Daryl and Sasha handed you smaller pieces of wood for you to make smaller weapons out of, all of the group minus you, Carl, Father Gabriel, Michonne, and Judith stayed behind. Soon as they leave, Carl and Michonne nail the door shut to help slow down anyone or anything trying to get inside the church. The hammering noise causes Judith to cry, so you go and pick her up from the makeshift crib.

“Hey, hey, what’s all the noise about?” You ask gently, trying to shush her as you do. “The banging will stop in a moment, and then you go back to sleep.”

Hearing a scratching noise, you glance over at Gabriel, who is frantically trying to scratch dried blood off the wooden floors.

He was definitely starting to show signs he’s coming unhinged.

—

You smile brightly at Judith as she giggles, feeling your finger move over her tummy. Carl sits down beside you; he looks pleased to see his baby sister happy. He rubs his finger over her cheek gently. “What’s so funny, Judy?”

“She liked having her name spelled out on her tummy,” you explain, before tickling her.

Carl looks at you slightly confused. “Is her name spelled out?”

“My mom used to spell out words on mine and Beth’s back during bath time, and we’d need to guess what it was.”

Teasingly, he says, “It sounds lame.”

Your brows raise in amusement. “Turn around.”

Carl let out a deep sigh, pretending he didn’t want to do as you asked, but he began laughing the minute you spelled out the first letter.

“Z…o…m… Are you really spelling out zombie?”

You burst out laughing, “Okay, so it’s not that hard, but when we were kids, it was pretty fun to play. Plus, my mom would always pick bigger words; I’d always get so mad because Beth always got the ones I couldn’t spell right.”

He offers you a kind smile before picking Judith up and hugging her. Quietly, he says, “I tried to help Gabriel choose a weapon, but I think I just upset him.”

“He’s been isolated for so long, I don’t think he fully understands how bad things are.”

“I know; I just wish he would let us help prepare us.”

“He will come around eventually,” you said, letting Judith hold your finger with her whole hand. “I didn’t know much about the world outside my daddy's farm until the day he needed to help save a young boy's life.”

—

You and Carl remained sitting on the floor of the church, playing with Judith, until yelling from outside, followed by banging at the door, caught your attention. “Is that Father Gabriel?”

Michonne starts to break off the wooden slabs, preventing the door from opening. Carl hands you his sister before going to help her. Soon as the door opens, Gabriel falls to the floor, then hurry’s to scramble back up before the small herd of walkers burst into the church. You all follow Gabriel into his office, where you discover he’s put a hole in the floor that leads outside by ripping up the floorboards. When you hear scratches on the other side of the door, which was threatening to burst open, you nudge Carl to go. He jumps into the crawl space first, then you hand him Judith, then do the same thing seconds later.

When you reach outside, Carl helps you stand with his free hand. "Are you okay?”

“Yeah, are you?”

He nods before trying to calm Judith, who had begun crying with all the fast movements and loud noises going on around her. Michonne crawls out next, and the three of you wait nervously to see if Father Gabriel will make it out.

“Do you think he's…” You trail off, not wanting to finish the sentence, but are pleasantly surprised when you see a hand holding a bloody machete reaching out from underneath the church. You rush over and offer Gabriel your hand to help him stand up.

“Let’s go,” Michonne says, waving for you to follow. She makes her way to the front of the church and re-locks the doors, trapping the walkers inside.

—

You pace back and forth, trying to think of what to do next. You had hardly any supplies between you and enough baby food to last two days at most. “Do you think we would be able to clear the church?”

“No,” Michonne says, shaking her head. “Not with just us.”

Before you can say anything else, a fire truck comes speeding towards the church. Carl grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you back into the tree line, keeping you out of view of whoever it is.

The fire trucks smash into the front of the church, collapsing the front of the roof, making it impossible for anyone to go back inside. When the side of the truck opens and you notice your sister coming out, you run over to her with your arms wide open.

“Maggie!”

Glenn joins in on the hug and asks, “What the hell happened here?”

You pull back from the hug and say, "The dead got inside, but it’s not important; Beth is alive!”

Maggie’s eyes become glossy. “She’s alive?”

“She’s at a hospital in Atlanta,” Michonne confirms. “Rick and the others have gone to get her.”

Tears of happiness fall from Maggie’s eyes. She pulls you in for another hug and kisses the crown of your head. It wouldn’t be long until the three of you were reunited at last.

—

“Wait here,” Maggie says, closing the side door of the truck. “There’s still dead roaming around; stay in the truck until we clear the area.”

You roll your eyes and slump back into the chair. Maggie just shakes her head and softly laughs before walking off.

You watch as the group takes out the few walkers that approach them. You bounce your knees in anticipation, waiting for Beth to appear at any moment. You missed her so much; you missed her hugs, the braids she used to braid your hair, and you even missed hearing her singing, which used to drive you crazy. You try to distract yourself by focusing on Judith, who was babbling away in her brother's arms.

“There’s my dad,” Carl says, leaning forward to look past you. “Oh shit, Hope, I think something is wrong.”

You don’t hear what Carl says next to you as your eyes lock on to the figure in Daryl’s arms. “Beth!”

Carl figures it out before you and tries to reach for your hand, but you snatch it away, swing open the door, and jump down out of the fire truck. “Beth, Beth!” When you almost reach Daryl, you can see the red staining her blonde hair. “Why is there blood in her hair?”

Before you can get any closer, Rick spins and blocks your view. “Don't; you don’t want to see her like this.”

Your legs give way, and you crumble to the ground, sobbing. Beth was gone. Your sister was dead.

#the walking dead #carl grimes/reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfic #teen spirit #carl grimes fanfiction #Carl Grimes #Carl Grimes/you #carl grimes x you #carl grimes x fem!reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #teen spirit 5.04

[tragedygroupie]

say yes to heaven

i am in the office of the head priest of my parent’s parish and all i want to do is kiss him.

when he approached me, alone in the pews, i should’ve known better. this will only end in disaster.

but when he stood above me, kind blue eyes wide with concern, my resolve leaked out of my body.

i find myself in his office, sitting across from him at his desk, as those damn blue eyes gazed serenely upon me.

“what’s bothering you love?”

i only come to church because i’m in love with the priest.

“i just have been having a lot of difficulty with my faith right now,” i start slowly.

he nods, sympathetic.

“i see. anything in particular?”

my body wants to shut down. this is all too much. i can’t tell him the only reason i even bother with this whole sham is because i love the sound of his voice. but i’m too tired to make anything up. exhaustion overwhelms my body and soul, as i struggle to articulate a spiritual battle i’ve been fighting since i was 12.

“it’s just hard to believe in god when you’ve been hurt so many times.” i say, pointedly avoiding eye contact.

“that’s a pretty normal feeling.” he responds.

i look up at him.

“really?”

he smiles.

“yeah really. if you’ve been hurt your whole life, god’s love feels pretty foreign.”

i nod.

“but god does love you. you are one of his children, immaculately and wonderfully made.”

i feel something like hope stir in my chest. i get up, and walk over to one of his bookshelves, studying his many titles.

“i just find it hard to believe when the world is so full of pain. it’s hard for me to keep having faith when people keep… when i keep getting hurt. sometimes it feels like god hates me and i don’t know what i did wrong,” i start, and he’s over to me quickly.

his hands cup my face, his compassionate eyes looking down into my tearful ones.

“how do you keep on believing when god can be so cruel?” i whisper.

“because when i look at you, i see someone who could’ve only been made by something divine.”

i look up at him, a tear running down my cheek.

his thumb gently swipes it away.

“i think i love you.” i whisper quietly.

he just smiles at me, holding my face in his hands.

“i love you too.”

i shake my head.

“no, i mean, i love you-“ i start before his mouth crashes into mine.

shock spreads through my limbs, before quickly being replaced with hunger. his hands roam my body and i feel him press me into the bookshelf. he tugs on my hair and i moan, allowing him to slip his tongue into my mouth. he tugs the straps of my dress down, revealing my chest.

i swear his eyes go a shade darker when he unhooks my bra and my breasts spill out from over my dress. his tongue starts swirling over my nipple and i moan, before slapping a hand over my mouth.

“don’t have to worry about noise, no one’s here” he mumbles as he slides his hand up my thigh.

when he hooks his fingers in my panties and looks up at me questioningly, i shakily take my hand away from my mouth.

he grins before he kisses me.

“good girl,” he says before he slides a finger inside me.

i whine and hide my head in his chest as he starts pumping, his thumb methodically brushing my clit.

“so fucking pretty,” he murmurs, chuckling when i clench him.

“i’ve thought about you ever since you first came to church… you always looked so beautiful…” he continues, adding a second finger.

“did you ever… think you’d be doing this?” i pant, trying to keep up.

he smiles.

“i don’t think i could’ve ever dreamed of this.”

i start feeling pressure in my tummy, and i immediately start babbling.

“i’m gonna, i’m gonna-“

“let go for me sweetheart.”

he fingers me through my orgasm, till i’m quivering in his arms and my legs are still shaking.

“you did so well… you’re so good for me baby, such a good girl,” he says, brushing my hair behind my ear.

when he pats my thighs, i automatically wrap my legs around his waist and he chuckles.

“you’re so well behaved” he laughs and i hide my face in his neck.

“i just wanna please you,” i whisper.

he sits me down on top of his desk and kisses my forehead.

“you’re doing a great job,” he responds.

when he enters me it burns, the stretch unlike anything i’ve ever felt. he lets me adjust, waiting for me to give the okay for him to move. when i nod, he slowly rocks his hips into me. as the burn gives way to this intoxicating ache he starts to go faster, grunts and groans filling the room. one of his hands interlocks with mine, while the other one darts between us to start rubbing circles on my clit.

i start feeling heat pool in my tummy, and as he kisses me i feel myself let go.

it only takes a few more thrusts for him to join me.

when he pulled out, cum started leaking from between my thighs, as he took two fingers and pushed it back inside me.

“i think i just found religion.”

#edward norton #keeping the faith #edward norton smut #father brian finn #father brian finn smut #priest kink

[monstersandmaw]

Yautja picking up a crocodile and singing to them about how they're cute little babies (inspired by me picking up my dog and humming the Bremmen March from Majora's Mask whilst marching around the house with her)

Aww! May I add: babies making little contented 'pew pew pew' noises back and the yautja being thoroughly delighted...

#yautja #anon ask

[hazbincalifornia]

Protection

Sort of combining the fankids prompt and preparing for kids prompt for Blitzpreg week, albeit a bit loosely.

Summary: Stellaluna is protected by her family, and wants to return the favor.

Wordcount: 1020

Ao3 link

Close the blinds. Check the rooms. Lock the doors. Nobody gets in. Papa’s making sure you’re safe.

Close the blinds. Check the rooms. Lock the doors. Nobody gets in. Papa’s making sure you’re safe.

Breathe. In, out. In, out. Do it along with Daddy while Loona’s watching the door just in case, ears pointed straight up and sniffing at the air.

“Why…?” The question was quiet, not wanting to interrupt Papa when he was doing his magic, his eyes a different shade of red and his entire body soaked in a sparky glow she wanted to touch but wasn't allowed to, not now.

Daddy clicked his tongue, thinking. “Life in Hell can be rough sometimes, sweetie. Sometimes, people want to hurt other people.”

She held up her fingers and mimed a gun firing with little pew-pew noises, and he laughed and ruffled at her head.

“Not really. We kill humans ‘cause somebody paid us to. Most of ‘em are gonna end up down here anyway. Sometimes…” His voice stretched a little. “Sometimes, people want to hurt us, ‘cause they don’t like us.”

“That’s mean.”

“Yeah, but you’ll get used to it. We’ll make sure nobody ever hurts you, alright, pumpkin? That’s why I’m showing you how to hurt them right back if you need to.” He curled his large red fingers around her tiny black ones, and she nodded.

It made sense.

Still.

Still, there was something in the air, heavy as feather-wetness from after a bath, and she watched as Papa slumped and Daddy hurried over to offer him some water and words she couldn’t hear.

Loona wordlessly crossed the room and flipped out her phone, but she turned it to the game that was fun to watch, which was nice of her. Her fur was sweaty and her hair smelled like trees.

She drifted away before Daddy crossed the room again or Papa gave her the goodnight kiss he usually did when he was here.

_____

Close the blinds. Check the rooms. Lock the doors. Nobody gets in. Papa’s making sure you’re safe.

Close the blinds. Check the rooms. Lock the doors. Nobody gets in. Papa’s making sure you’re safe.

It had been a few months, but Daddy’s breathing was too fast, the way it was when something went wrong. Loona was out tonight, but Daddy had her on his lap so she could feel as much as hear how his chest was rising and falling.

“It’s alright, they didn’t… don’t worry, sweetie, okay? Okay?”

She nuzzled against his tummy. She was still able to feel a little softness under the shirt, which she liked.

There had been someone in the hallway. Someone new. She knew most of the people that lived here, or at least on her floor.

They’d tried to shoot her.

That was mean, and made her shaky as she curled closer to him, to his smell of gunpowder and spice and leather.

Daddy seemed scared.

It didn’t really make sense- he was big and strong and could kill people real easily- but the little tremors and the way his voice wiggled a little… it sure seemed like it.

He was scared because they’d tried to get her. Because of her.

She pressed her cheek against him and murmured that she was okay, she wasn’t worried. Everything was okay, right?

(Her heart was still beating twice as fast as usual when her eyes darted down to the hole in the puffy sleeve of her dress, but she sucked in breaths like he did, and it started to go away.)

_____

Keep yourself safe. Keep Daddy safe, only ask for help if something’s gone very, very wrong.

Daddy was having a baby, a little brother. They’d waited until they were in the palace for real instead of just on weekends, waited until things were done and they’d be safer.

People said a lot of mean things at her over the last few months when they were pointing cameras and microphones at her. Poked at her, shot at her, snarled at her, all just as much as they did at Daddy and Papa and Loona. She got good at pretending it didn’t matter so they didn’t have to worry. (She was good at pretending, almost as good as she was at stabbing and hugging.)

They had all decorated the baby’s room together, bigger than the one she’d had when she was little. (She was five now, and felt far bigger than she had when she was merely two or three. After all, she was going to be a big sister.) They’d picked out pieces of glass, stuck them together, and hung it so the light from the window made the inside of the room dance with pretty colors.

Daddy fell asleep on the couch in the baby’s room, and she curled up against his tummy. It had a layer of squish around it, but it was hard if she tried to hug it, all full of brother. He squirmed a little when she patted at him, and Daddy made a noise that was kind of a snore and kind of a purr, which she couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at.

“Hey there.”

He squirmed again, and she tapped him with her finger. She’d been thinking a lot, about how to make things better for him. He was going to be real little from what Daddy and Papa said, even though he was making Daddy big right now. Little enough to need a lot of help.

“I’m gonna make you safe. Nobody’s gonna mess with you or be mean to you while I’m around.” She leaned in real close, so close that her beak almost caught on the fabric of Daddy’s shirt so Daddy couldn’t hear. “I’m protectin’ Papa and Daddy already. They won’t get scared ‘bout stuff if I’m not. You’re littler than them, and I can hurt people. Nobody’s gonna mess with you. Promise.”

She pecked a kiss on the rounded bump before settling down with her cheek pressed against the skin and drifting off, keeping herself between her new brother and the world.

#helluva mpreg #daddy blitzo #shadow writes stuff #stella

[hohindamura]

Scan Source

Translation of the first few pages from Volume 3! Will try translating the other sample pages soon.

Always appreciate suggestions!

Alt Text Below

Title Page Animal Crossing: News from Hohinda Village Sayorin: Whoa~ Gracie, easy now~ Gracie: Get off of me.

[Background Text] Ruiko: Ah. Resetti: Oi... Kotaro: Her shoe fell off- haha! Roscoe: If you're gonna race, I'll beat ya. Pecan: You’re gonna race..?

Pg. 1

The Tune is Wrong Sayorin: Today’s a fun Christmaas~ Sayorin: What? Roscoe: U-uh.

Lobo: Hey, isn’t that the Hinamatsuri tune? Roscoe: I guess she's going retro, huh? Sayorin: (in bg) Today's gonna to be a fun Hinamatsuri~

Pg. 2

Gift from Chiaki

Sayorin: Ew, a Christmas present from Chiaki? S: Kinda suspicious…

Mitzi: Sayorin, you shouldn’t say those kinds of things. You might incur a divine punishment! S: Mitzi…

M: Christmas should be a special occasion that makes everyone feel nice. S: You’re right, sorry.

Gift from Chiaki Pt. 2

S: Urg, she’s makes me angry! M: Um, there’s a letter attached to the present. Should we read it?

S: I'd rather throw it away. M: You shouldn’t say that!

M: Christmas should be a special occasion th- S: I get it, I get it.

Chiaki: For your Christmas allowance, I’ll be sending you three empty cans as a nice favour, ohoho~ S: Darn it! M: Ah, I had some errands… T/N: It’s common for older people to send younger people (typically children) money as a gift during New Years (celebrate with Christmas).

Pg. 3

Santa is here?!

Sayorin: I feel like on a night like this, Santa could appear any minute now ~♥.

S: OH!

S: Pew! Pew! P-Pew!

S: Aw, I guess Santa’s not actually real... Gulliver: H-huh? What did you say...?

You cannot do that!

G: H-hold on! If I were to be the real Santa, what were you planning to do?

G: Were you going to shoot me down to get a present!? S: Eh!?

S: Am I not supposed to do that? G: Ugh, nevermind.

Pg. 4

Oooough…

?: Oo…

?: Oo… oo… S: W-who’s making that noise? G: It cannot be a mole cricket…

S: Wait! What if it’s the ghost of winter!! G: No! I am scared!!

UFO: Please move -zura… so heavy… S: Ah, the ship's on top of a snow man! G: What!?

Cheeky Gulliver

G: I have moved the ship away. Snowman: I’m saved, zura…

G: So. Snow: ?

G: So, I have just rescued you.

Snow: Ah, yes. Thank you -zura. So?

G: So, give me a snowman furniture, please. (Don…!) Snow: I can’t believe you’re going there -zura.

Pg. 5

Baby Hat and Baby Talk

Snow: I’m a victim because you just so happened to land on me all of the sudden-zura!! G: Well, I am also a victim too!

Snow: Then, who’s the perpetrator? G: Well, I think… (Turn)

S: Sayowin is still baby so I don’t kwnow. ♡ (Goo goo) G: You can't dodge your way out of this!

A snowman’s willpower!

G: Anyways, just help me collect parts for my ship. S: Okay.

Snow: I’ll help out -zura. Snow: Snowflakes! Help me find parts!

S: Ooh! S: The snowflakes are making them easier to find!

Snow: And with that, I would like some souvenirs, please. G: Are you seriously going there!? (Fall-)

Pg. 6

A Superpower.

G: Well, you have to give me yours first! Snow: No yours!

S: Hey, I got all the parts-. G: Snowman! Snow: Souvenirs!

(Snowman/Souvenirs argument in the background)

S: Both of you shut up! Give them to me.

It might be new.

G: I guess as a special reward, I will give you a rare Christmas item. S: Yay! ♪

G: It is a Santa Moai! S: Y-

S: Uh, this is just a regular Moai with a king’s beard and a red pom-pom hat... G: It’s a Santa Moai.

#animal crossing #animal crossing manga #hohinda mura dayori #hohinda mura #volume 3

[nyandrogyne]

Pinkmandalorian

Jesse (wearing Mandalorian armor): Alright little dude, we're gonna make some serious bank on this job. Just stay quiet and let Jesse Pinkman do his thing. *Looks around cautiously*

Baby (makes weird high pitched gurgling noises)

Jesse: Quiet! I told you to keep it on the down low. *Baby continues making noises* You're lucky you're so cute otherwise I would've ditched your weird alien butt a long time ago.

Baby: *makes laughing noises and claps hands*

Jesse: You think that's funny huh? *pretends to shoot laser blasts at baby* Pew pew! Take that you little wrinkly gremlin! *makes explosion noises*

Baby: *makes happy gurgling sounds and claps more*

Jesse: Alright alright, enough horsing around. We gotta meet up with my contact, Leland Palmer. Maybe he'll know where we can find some Blue Milk. *walks into cantina* Hey Leland! Over here!

Leland Palmer (Twin Peaks character): *walks over* Ah, Mr. Pinkman. I see you have your...ward with you.

Jesse: Yeah yeah, the baby's with me. You got the goods or what?

Leland: Of course, of course. *reaches into robe and pulls out jug* Fresh Blue Milk as promised.

Jesse: Alright! *high fives baby* You're the man Leland! *hands him payment* We'll be in touch. *walks out of cantina with baby* You like that Blue Milk little dude? Gonna make you big and strong! *baby laughs and drinks milk* Let's get off this dust bowl and find our next adventure.

Jesse and the baby exit the cantina and walk toward their ship.

Jesse: Alright little alien dude, drink up that Blue Milk and get ready for hyperspace. We gotta meet the big boss man, Mr. White. *baby makes excited noises and drinks milk*

As they approach the ship, a group of bounty hunters emerge from the shadows!

Bounty hunter 1: Hand over the child, Mandalorian! Lord White has put a high price on his head.

Jesse: Oh yeah? Well Lord White can kiss my- *blaster fire whizzes by* Whoa! *dodges more shots* Alright you Jawas, you asked for it! *returns fire and takes cover*

The bounty hunters advance but the baby uses the Force to push one of them back. Jesse shoots another while ducking behind his ship.

Jesse: Nice work little guy! Keep it up! *shoots another bounty hunter* We're almost through this!

The baby uses the Force again, knocking two more bounty hunters to the ground. Jesse shoots the last one and rushes to the ship.

Jesse: That was some serious Force power, little dude! You saved our necks. Lord White's gonna have to deal with Jesse Pinkman and his Eraserhead baby sidekick! *high fives baby and they blast off into hyperspace, laughing*

As Jesse and the baby exit hyperspace, they land on the desert planet ruled by Lord White. They walk through a bizarre alien market filled with creatures.

Jesse: Stay close little dude, this place is weird. *sees Log Lady from Twin Peaks selling fortune cookies* Hey there's the Log Lady! *Twin Peaks theme plays in background*

They approach Lord White's palace. A huge creature lies on a throne, surrounded by aliens.

Lord White: So, the little Mandalorian thinks he can defy me?! Bring me the child!

Jesse steps forward.

Jesse: Listen here Lord White, you're not laying one tentacle on this baby.

Lord White let's out a roar of laughter.

Lord White: You have spirit, Mandalorian. But you will hand over the child to me, or face the consequences! Goo goo g'joob!

Jesse ignites his laser sword.

Jesse: We're not afraid of you! Right little dude? *baby makes determined noises and activates his own little laser sword* Let's do this.

The baby laughs and claps as Jesse and Lord White begin to duel. Laser swords clash as alien characters watch in suspense. The baby uses the Force to trip Lord White, giving Jesse an opening to disarm the Hutt-like creature.

Jesse: Give up old man, you're beaten!

Lord White surrenders and Jesse and the baby high five in victory. They exit the palace as the alien characters cheer.

Jesse and the baby enter the cantina to celebrate their victory over Lord White. Leland and Laura Palmer are sitting at a table.

Jesse: Leland! Laura! Drinks are on me tonight. We kicked some serious Hutt butt!

Leland: Splendid news! A round for the house in honor of our heroes! *other alien characters cheer*

The baby toddles over to Laura and makes his strange cooing noises while staring at Leland.

Laura: I think your little friend has quite an interest in my father.

Leland: *uncomfortably* Yes well, he is an odd little fellow.

The baby continues to stare and coo at Leland. Jesse comes over and picks up the baby.

Jesse: Alright little dude, no more creeping out Leland. Time to celebrate!

Log Lady approaches with drinks on a tray. The baby grabs one and starts drinking.

Log Lady: The spirits swirl with joy this night. Darkness has been vanquished, if only for a moment.

Jesse: Here here! *clinks glasses with Log Lady and drinks*

Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" starts playing in the background. Jesse and the baby start dancing and singing along. The other alien characters join in, dancing and laughing. Even Leland and Laura smile and tap their feet.

Jesse: This is the life little dude! Drinks, dancing and no slimy Hutts trying to steal you away. We make a pretty good team. *baby laughs and claps*

#star wars #the mandalorian #breaking bad #twin peaks #eraserhead

[writingamongther0ses]

Bite Me: Chapter 6- Reunited!

Summary: Melody finds Cecily!

For about a minute.

CW: Someone stabs a baby. There's no blood but the baby does melt.

AO3

-_-

Ow.

Melody came to slowly. A sharp pain in her side and muffled noises, all around, guided her to awakening. She pushed past the pain to allow her other senses to complain, something that probably wasn’t healthy. But she had awoken far too many times in shit to really panic over pain anymore.

She faintly tasted copper in her mouth and the scent of something sickly sweet was lingering in her nose. That scent was overtaken by must and what must’ve been a massive wet dog. As she stirred, the voices grew louder and louder, making her attention slowly catch on.

“She has no use to anyone else. And the twins have been longing for a new toy.” Despite the ice cold words the voice was pleasant, as if whoever they were was discussing what to pick out from the toy store.

Melody cracked open her eyes...

And there was a cat.

Or what remained of one. 

Said cat looked like it had been hit with a truck, several stitched up wounds darting across its body. Part of its chest had been removed to reveal what looked like clockwork and it staggered all the way up to the cat’s face. As she stared, absently wondering where clockwork cats came into play in her nightmares, she got the faintest glimpse of the skull and then the brain slid into view as the cat cocked its head.

And then the cat giggled. “She’s awake!”

Melody might’ve screamed. Or swore. She definitely tried to sit up and fell back almost immediately.

The voices continued on as if Melody hadn’t just met a clockwork version of that cat from Pet Sementary. “Her skull might not be the best way to grace your halls, but I would be honored to slice this annoying woman’s flesh off.”

Annoying woman? Were they talking about her? Of course they were. When wasn’t she the annoying woman?

Melody managed to sit up, pushing against the weight solid around her neck and the ache of her muscles. Her mind was still foggy and she felt strangely warm, like she did when she went down with the flu. She managed to look around.

She was sitting on the floor. Based on the remains of stained glass windows, she was in the church. Pews had been arranged 

The cat had lingered in front of her. With a manically gleeful giggle, it turned and scampered away to the distance. A figure sat in a chair, dressed in old-fashioned hunting clothes. Their face was covered with some weird mask but Melody had a feeling they were staring at her. Next to the hunter was a tall figure, also staring straight at her. At first, she thought he was wearing some weird black feather cloak.

He moved and the feathers ruffled. Nope, wasn’t a cloak.

“You mean you’ll screw with her in private and where’s the fun in that?”

“Your fun usually only lasts an hour if not shorter.” Melody glanced at the owner of that voice. It was a person, she could make that out. They were dressed in a fine white and blue suit. Blonde hair was pushed out of what might’ve been a beautiful face once. Now, however...Melody wondered if screaming at the full-on zombie would be out of place. “I promise, Mother, that I will make it last.”

Oh goody.

“Yeah, yeah, golden child, keep promising that. One look at that face and she’ll bend over dead.” And there he was. The asshole. Currently not looking at her. As such, Melody’s fingers pressed against-

Not her throat. Not her scarf.

A thick metal collar.

What the fuck.

As Asshole (he was officially dubbed that in her mind, now and forever) talked, something about a show, Melody was panicking. She traced the collar with her fingers, hoping to whatever sick shit ran the show that was her life there was a latch, a keyhole, something! 

There was nothing. Not even a chain, which was good.

Immediately, she started trying to pull at it. It was useless, she knew that, but damn if she didn’t try. The argument around her grew louder and louder, blocking her desperate struggles against the collar. Ivy was making unhappy noises in the back of her head as Melody’s panic grew.

“SILENCE!”

The immediate flash of intense, seething, hatred, nearly knocked Melody right the back out. Ivy was furious, it seemed. But whoever had yelled had stopped the fight. Melody looked up and gave a start.

She hadn’t noticed the last figure.

Honestly, she wasn’t sure why. The woman was hard to miss.

Long, golden hair flowed down her back. She was dressed in what looked like a nun’s habit, the colors reversed, leaving her in pure white. Golden jewelry wrapped around her neck and down her arms, looking like double helixes. She stared down at Melody.

Ah. So, based on the logical way to consider, this was Mother.

A hand, a glittering gold ring firm on her ring finger, raised and beckoned. “Perhaps, Doctor, you are more useful than you seem.” Melody stared, unsure of how to react.

A snarl behind her made her jump.

A werewolf had been lurking behind her, snarling at her lack of response. Melody scooted back, feeling her heart race. It was eyeing her neck as if deciding which spot was best to bite though. At least the-

Could werewolves bite though metal?

Before Melody could consider that, her thoughts bordering on hysteria, a low growl rolled through the church.

Then a hand was grabbing the hood of her jacket and yanking her up and practically off her feet. Sirens went off and even in the odd haze her head was in, she didn’t need to guess who was there. The moment she was sure she was steady on her feet, Melody launched forward. There was a door, there had to be a door-

“Nope.”

And Melody was skidding back as the collar yanked her back, right back into a chest. Ah, right. That probably

She craned her head back and Asshole smirked down at her-

Was that her scarf?

Melody mentally slapped herself, trying to snap her out of whatever haze she was in. She pushed away and he allowed it. Instead, he glared...

At the werewolf?

It whimpered when it realized, bowing its head. Which was understandable. Melody wanted to do that now. But why was he angry? Why was it in trouble?

The collar dug into the bite mark and she bit back a hiss. Weird, it should have healed-

“Doctor.” Mother’s voice said, breaking through her consideration. 

The woman seemed unbothered by the scene. Her hand was still raised, waiting for her. A shove on her back pushed Melody forward. The man looked away when she glanced back. The zombie was glancing between them with an odd, unpleasant smirk on their face. Melody swallowed and turned her eyes to the goddess waiting.

The church was silent as she walked up to the altar.

“I need your help,” Mother said when she had reached her side. Melody cocked her head, unsure of what she meant, before the ground underneath them rippled.

Her stomach twisted as Ivy made an angry noise.

But then her eyes went wide as something rose.

There, tucked inside what looked like a tree branch, was a small baby. Her little face was scrunched up as if she was having a nightmare but her pink onesie, the same one Melody had dressed her in before she left for the store, was spotless.

“Cecily!”

She lunged forward, snatching the baby out of the makeshift cradle. The moment Melody held her close, Cecily’s eyes opened. She wanted to sob at the sight of Summer’s eyes, the original’s now glazed over with death. A happy coo escaped the baby as she reached up, batting against her aunt’s face. Melody chuckled, rubbing that little hand.

“You’re okay. I gotcha, everything is going to be fine-”

A dagger buried itself in Cecily’s chest.

The world froze.

Mother smiled pleasantly, as if she had only helped Melody up instead of tearing her heart in half. The dagger pulled out with a wet sound. Cecily’s face was frozen in shock, staring up at her aunt. Melody stared, unsure of what she had just witnessed.

Somewhere, someone was screaming.

Slowly, Cecily began to melt, her small face overtaken by what appeared to be dark liquid. Under them, waiting, four small bottles caught each trickle. Eventually, the bottles were full and Melody’s hands were empty. There wasn’t even a stain.

The church was silent.

#Bite Me #my writing #horror #cw: child death #kinda? #fiction #werewolves

[ezzydean]

tagged by @le-amewzing but it is not Six Sentence Sunday or WIP Wednesday.

So I’ll go for... uh.... Multi-fic Monday?  I dunno.  Here’s some pieces of some of the many fics (some of which will never see the light of day beyond these sorts of things) I have bits of in my docs.

(under the cut cause it’s a little long)

stuff from the many

“I need help.”

That does not answer the question.  Peter sounds genuinely distressed and that does not answer the question at all.

“Aw, hell,” Noah groans.  “Did you steal a baby, Peter?”

-random accidental baby acquisition Teen Wolf idea Catt & I tossed around

many

“As your bodyguard I second that recommendation.”  Haru makes a rude gesture in Seijuurou’s direction.  “Rude.  I am just looking out for your wellbeing.”

“If you valued my mental wellbeing you’d let me keep doing it.”

Seijuurou settles into the chair across from him and shrugs.  “You don’t pay me to value your mental wellbeing.  Only your physical.”

- hush, the HaruSou+SeiKisu arranged marriage mess of an idea I had for NaNo a couple years ago

many

“Holy fuck!” he hisses, spinning around to see Gabriel leaning against the tree behind him.

“I am holy and I do fuck,” Gabriel replies with a grin.

Dean blinks a few times as the words sink in.  “What?”

“So what are you two kiddos up to?  Shenanigans and tomfoolery?”

....

“Thank God,” he grumbles as the door swings shut.  The noise of the latch catching is unnervingly loud in the empty nave.

“Hate to break it to you, kiddo.  But He’s not here.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean hisses, words echoing oddly as he spins around, looking for the source of the voice.

“Nope.”  A man is sitting a few feet away, arms stretched across the back of the pew.  He rolls his head to the side lazily as Dean shuffles towards him.  “But you’d be surprised by how often I seem to be called that.  Not sure why.  I look nothing like him.  No family resemblance whatsoever.”  He chuckles and gives Dean a strange little smile when Dean looks at him in confusion.  “Apologies.  Inside joke.”

- lessons in loyalty and forgiveness, a Supernatural au from forever ago where the archangels (namely Gabriel and Lucifer) get to be the forces of wrath and power and vengeance they don’t always get to be in the show (and Dean and Sam get to go to college and shit too)

many wips I have

“Now do what I pay you to do.”

“You don’t pay me,” Kei reminds Kenma.

“Well you sure as shit don’t help me out of the kindness of your heart, Kei.  So just add it to my tab or whatever, okay?”

“You make me regret so much about my life.  You know that, right?”

“The day I ask you to do something that doesn’t make you regret some aspect of your life is probably the day hell freezes over or something.  So, you know.  Enjoy.”

- 3rd gym shenanigans/future fic from who knows how long ago where Hinata, Tsukki, and Lev someday fall into love or something as grown ups

not tagging anyone but if you want to share some of your fics go for it

#wip meme #wip wednesday #(not really but whatevs) #things i'm tagged in

[ch3rryc0kezer0]

Here are some extracts from my notes app, taken during my first listen of Being Funny In A Foreign Language by THE 1975, track by track:

THE 1975

- piano!

- sounds really big if that makes sense

- “i’m sorry if you’re living and you’re seventeen”

- the flute outro!!!!

HAPPINESS

- BANGER

- “YOU SHOW ME WHAT LOVE IS NOW IM ACTING LIKE I KNOW MYSELFFFFF”

- the bass line <3

- the pew pew noises are my favourite things

- SAX SOLO

- WE NEED MORE SAX SOLOS

- THE MUSIC DIDNT DIE EITH KURT COBAIN, BUT RATHER WHEN PEOPLE STOPPED UTILISING SAXOPHONE SOLOS!!!

LOOKING FOR SOMEONE (TO LOVE)

- GUITAR!

- absolute banger already?!

- “a supreme gentleman with a gun in his hand looking for somebody to love”

- “I WANNA SHOW HIM HES A BITCH” YEAH! FUCK! HIM! UP!!!!!!!!

- “I wanna fuck him up so good” YES MATT! FOLLOW MY EXPERT ADVICE!

- according to spotify it’s about school shootings????

- pumped up kicks pt 2 i guess

- “i was all bang bang bang bang” oh see that makes the shooting part make sense

- “but the boy with the plan and the gun in his hand was looking for somebody to love” i reallyyyy like this lyric

- the writing on this album is so good wow

PART IF THE BAND

- the strings wow

- reminds me of coldplay

- “i always used to bust into my hand” hmmmm 🤨

- “you gotta talk about the people baby” god i love the delivery of this line

- OH THERES A FLUTE SECTION

- I LOVE FLUTE SECTIONS!

- “i fell in love with a boy who was kinda lame” girl same

- chorus sounds like something the Oh Hellos would write

- harmonies <3

- oh there’s a

- a

- what is it called

- xylophone!!!

- “communista keisters” cute… what does that mean

- “i like my men like i like my coffee; full of soy milk and so sweet it won’t offend anybody” having a little giggle

- the outro is so pretty with all the layering strings

OH CAROLINE

- sounds spicy

- “i’ve been suicidal” oh. never mind.

- “if i’m undecided, you decide for me” hmm that doesn’t sound much like a healthy relationship

- “you always on my mind, oh oh caroline” SWEET CAROLINE BA BA BAAAA

- “getting suicidal? it’s honestly not for me” yeah it’s not for many people either bud

- they’re really doing a great job with their outros wow wow wow

IM IN LOVE WITH YOU

- sounds so good from just that guitar tone alone 😫

- love that hann told him to write a more sweet love song cuz they’d made too many dick jokes in their songs 😭

- “laying down a list of the going wrongs” me with my pro-con lists

- whatever acoustic guitar they use for their albums needs to be in my house IMMEDIATELY

- THE RASP ON “in love WITH you!”

- THE BRIDGE HOLY SHIT

- i love the bridge!!!

- “DONT FUCK IT, YOU MUPPIT” BAHAHAHAHAHA

- “Been counting my blessings and thinking this through”

- this is my favourite song so far

- their outros man 😫

ALL I NEED TO HEAR

- party time is over now i think

- sad piano ballad?

- yes party time is definitely over

- that guitar tone holy mary mother of christ

- “i get out my records when you go away” so he’s a swifty?

- “people are talking, i miss what they say” oh that’s GOOD

- i don’t have many thoughts for this one??

WINTERING

- i love the talking at the beginning of the song

- OH THE ALBUM IS HAPPY AGAIN

- sounds folk-y

- i love folk

- “johns obsessed with fat ass and he’s ten years old” what on EARTH is john up to?

- “grade eight but she’s got no soul” i not a year eight but twinsss!

- the writing in this song specifically is so beautiful

- like it feels really nostalgic

- “olivia’s been a vegan since ten” oh me too (not really)

- “I SAID WOMAN, YOU ARE 64 YEARS OLD!!” HAHA

- “i came for my stuff not to argue bout nothing” inchresting

- i want to be home on the 23rd too

- i’m actually so homesick right now and this bloody song has just reminded me

HUMAN TOO

- talking at the beginning!

-good grief we’re back to being sad

- the piano tone wow wow wow

- this better not be a mental health song cuz they always suck

- “so tell me you’re a human” i think i am but i’ll go confirm next door

- “quite like seeing myself on the news” matt you attention whore

- not the biggest fan of this one but it’s still pretty

ABOUT YOU

- THE INTRO!!!

- IT SOUNDS LIKE THE END OF A COMING OF AGE FILM

- GOD I LOVE THIS ONE

- “i know a place, it’s somewhere i go when i need to remember your face” prettyyy

- reminds me of heroes (the version by peter gabriel, not david bowie)

- “it’s not my fault that i’ve fucked everybody here” mate it is??? also you SLAG

- A WOMAN?!

- her voice is stunning wow

- WHO

- IS

- SHE

- (update: she’s hann’s girlfriend awww)

- “i miss you on the train and i miss you in the morning” god that feeling of longing for and missing someone hurts so much why would they remind me

- mirrorball by blondie would go well with this in like a mashup

- SAX SOLO ROUND TWO!!!

- god i love this song

- it’s in a major key but it’s so gothic sounding which i adore

WHEN WE ARE TOGETHER

- i didn’t realise there was another song

- what a pleasant surprise :0

- the guitar is so nice

- “central park is sea world for trees” what does that even mean

- i can’t tell he’s english when he sings and it makes me sad

- like i thought they were american when i first heard their stuff, and didn’t know they weren’t until i googled them and watched an interview

- “you ask about the cows wearing my sweater” okay how high was matt when he wrote this line?

- VIOLIN SOLO WHAT THE SHIT

- “i’m a racist and you’re some kind of slag” ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE

- “i thought that we were fighting but turns out i was just gaslighting you” OH THATS GOLD

#the 1975 #matt #album review #being funny in a foreign language #being funny in a foreign language the 1975 #this band is my everything #like you don’t get it #they #are #my #life

[go-by-mo]

My baby is crying on the plane……

Just as we start to take off, a low-pitched, rhythmic, repetitive cry pierces through the plane. As a new father, instinctively, the first thing that comes to my head is “formula, change diapers, or time for a nap.” But as I look down at my daughter, she is quiet and curiously fixated on her fingers as if she just realized their existence. While the cry on the plane was from another child, I felt a sense of connection with the parents as they incessantly attempted to placate their child. I respected, empathized, and admired their diligence and care in navigating the tricky situation with traveling with a child.

Growing up, I was that puerile adolescent who cringed when I heard a child crying on a plane. How could I be so naive about the difficulties of traveling with a child? I must have been oblivious to all the pre-work my parents did to make sure our trips went smoothly.

When you become a father, the common question your friends and family members ask is “How has your life changed since you became a parent?”. Truthfully, it's complicated. Typically, becoming a parent is supposed to change your identity, but I argue it doesn’t. While caring for another human being is unexplainable and can be the hardest and most self-fulfilling part of your life, parenthood is just part of your identity and doesn’t define you but rather provides you with a new perspective on life. Every part of your life now has more purpose, and you have a new source of happiness that perplexes and teaches you every day. While the responsibility for my daughter’s safety and growth is my primary responsibility, it’s the little things like her drooly smile when I pick her up that never gets old. You do also gain this freakish ability to accomplish everything you did before with ¾ the amount of sleep, at best, and an ability identify body cues from crying.

Weirdly enough though, many people think that once you become a parent it's this grandiose life with an adorable child and polaroid moments. This couldn't be farther from reality. In all honesty, parenting is hard. According to Pew's research, parents are more likely to feel judged by family members than by friends, other parents in their community, or people they interact with online. About four-in-ten or more parents also say they feel judged by their own parents (44%) and their spouse or partner's parents (41%) at least sometimes. This pernicious mindset of judging others parenting style serves no value in society. Parenting is about making mistakes, learning with your child, and growing as a parent and individual. The goal shouldn't be to mimic any parenting style but to become the best version of yourself for you and your child.

As I sit in awe on the plane, looking at my daughter as she sleeps peacefully, unbothered by the noise from her surroundings, I just hope I can inspire her as much as she does for me. I hope I can be more present, involved, and playful with my daughter than my dad was. Not that he wasn’t there for me, but I just plan to take a different approach. So, if I had to answer the question “How has my life changed since I became a parent?”, fatherhood has not only changed me but also shown me a love that I never knew existed. It has also made me gain a new level of respect for anyone who travels with a child on a plane. Told you it was complicated!

Resources:

Pew Research Center. “Parenting in America Today.” Pew Research Center, 24 Jan. 2023, https://www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2023/01/24/parenting-in-america-today/.

[carolinemillerbooks]

New Post has been published on Books by Caroline Miller

New Post has been published on https://www.booksbycarolinemiller.com/musings/one-true-thing-about-democracy/

One True Thing About Democracy

Many artists have recorded the song “You’ve Got to be Taught” from the musical South Pacific. Barbara Streisand is among them. It’s a song about hate. Actor John Kerr in the original film version explains. ”It happens after you’re born.” The philosopher John Locke would have agreed. He believed human nature began as a blank page upon which experience imprinted its truths. Hate wasn’t innate. His older contemporary, Thomas Hobbes demurred. Humankind was born with a brutish nature, he insisted.  The 2022 election has reopened the question. A recent study of outcomes revealed a stunning fact. A large swath of voters across the political spectrum favored uncompromising leaders who were decisive.  What’s more these voters would abandon democracy if autocracy protected people like themselves from groups that threatened their values or status. As evidence of this truth, the American electorate sent more than 100 incumbent and newly elected members to Congress who cast doubts about the electoral process, and who affirmed the 2020 election was “rigged.”   Equally troubling is the plethora of Internet hate sites that continue to grow. A recent Pew Report noted that 46% of teens use the web “almost constantly,” giving a boost to fearmongers and misogynists like Andre Tate. Tate describes himself as a “life coach.” One of his messages to impressionable minds is that women bring rape upon themselves.    Do Tate’s remarks and those of others like him prove humans have a dark nature? The prevalence of psychopaths in our society might give us pause. Or, do we learn from the example of tyrants?  Vladimir Putin is one.  His Ukraine invasion has decimated many cities, reducing their schools, libraries, and hospitals to rubble. What lesson does he teach? He owns many palaces while nightly, newscasters show us images of his victims–Ukranian mothers with babies slung on their hips pleading for food.  Is Putin incapable of remorse? Has he reduced his life to a game of winning and losing?  And, is that enough?  One Russian mercenary thinks it is. He makes headlines by beating his chest and challenging Ukraine’s president to a duel.  Tomorrow, I will fly a MIG-29. If you so desire, let’s meet in the skies. If you win, you take Artyomovsk (Bakhmut).  If not, we advance till (the river) Dnipro. Does brutish sentiment reflect a diminished intellect? Do people who behave like an animal think like an animal? History suggests otherwise. Tyrants like Caligula, Joseph Stalin, Mao Zedong, Pol Pot, and Hitler aren’t counted as fools. Studies suggest wrong-doing may be an offshoot of creativity. It’s a talent that allows reprobates to offer excuses to assuage their conscience. Why did Putin invade Ukraine?  To rid the country of Nazis.     Despite Locke and Hobbes, we humans know little about our nature. We enter the world with two fears, a fear of falling and loud noises.  Do we extrapolate other fears from those? Or is fear more biological than philosophers imagined? Studies suggest it is innate, a neurological response to threat.  What we do know is that it promotes violence and hatred.  To those who would throw away our democracy, I ask that first, they appreciate its value as a bulwark against fear. To secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity are the opening lines of the U. S. Constitution.  They hold the promise of universal suffrage and equal justice under the law. The ambition is noble and represents the best that is in us. Preserving that ambition exacts a price, however. We are obliged to make room for diversity and to respect habits that to some seem foreign. Yet to deprive equality to any individual or group destroys our mutual protection. As a consequence, we abandon ourselves to the law of the jungle. Or, we surrender our freedom to a dictator. Whether hate must be taught or is part of our brutish nature, we transcend both when we hunger for justice. One day, we may prove to be worthy of the democracy we have fashioned. Till then, we must guard against fear.  Democracy demands resilience. That is its one true thing. 

#America's promise of equality #Andre Tate #Are tyrants capable of remorse? #Are tyrants fools? #creativity and mischief #devastation in Ukraine #hate on the internet #John Kerr #John Locke #lyrics to You've got to be taught #Pew research on teens and the media #psychopaths prevelant in society #ridding Ukraine of Nazis #South Pacific #study of the 2020 election #The nature of humans #the two innate fears #Thoimas Hobbes #U. S. Constitution #Vladimir Putin #war as a game

[monsieur-du-pompadour]

Deliverance

“Careful,” my mother says as she places my new cousin into my awaiting arms. “The head—watch her head.”

I gently cup a hand around the slumbering infant’s head. She jerks in her sleep at the contact, but soon settles.

For some reason, I begin to cry. I smile up at my mother. “She’s…so…tiny,” I whisper. My mother laughs, the sound tinkling around me. I look down again and gaze upon the child.

Annise Eliyah. The Lord has found favor with me. She was a miracle baby, my aunt says. Forty years old, there’s no way she should’ve been able to have a kid. Yet here she is. My aunt’s little miracle.

Annise smells good, I think, like Johnson & Johnson’s baby oil. Her hair is dark and curly, like her father’s. Her skin is pale, like her mothers. Her skin will darken, the nurses say. Mixed babies always start out very light. Soon she’ll look the part.

Dark skin or light, she’s very beautiful. Often newborns are ugly; they’re wrinkly and weird and squishy. Not Annise, however. Annise is perfect.

I hug her close to me as my mother begins attending to her post-birth sister. Annise’s father is away, on a business trip. He’s probably beating himself up right now, wishing he had said no, wishing he didn’t have to miss his own daughter’s birth. There’s no way he could’ve known, though. Annise is early, by two weeks. They thought he’d be fine. They thought he’d be back in time for the birth. That’s why my mother and I are here, we were the only relatives around that were able to bring her to the hospital. My grandmother is here too, but she’s in the bathroom.

Annise yawns and starts to fuss. A nurse swiftly sweeps her from my arms and for a minute, I am angry. For a minute I feel the same innate protective instinct I felt when my sister was born. Then she deposits Annise at my aunt’s breast and I am whisked from the room.

I sit in the corridor, alone, and try not to feel out of place. I can still feel Annise’s warmth, pressed tightly against my chest. She is perfect. A little miracle.

🌹 • 🌹 • 🌹

A box is placed into my arms, and it is cold. “A tragedy,” the nurse tells me. “Couldn’t be avoided.”

“Wasn’t anybody’s fault—”

“Couldn’t have been avoided—”

“Real shame—”

“We tried everything—”

“Couldn’t be avoided.”

Their words swirl around me in a cacophony of empty, meaningless noise. I hold the box close, feel the icy cold through my shirt, and my heart clenches.

Her name was Rose, I am told. 8 hours. She breathed for 8 hours, until she didn’t breathe anymore.

My throat closes around the sobs that I refuse to let escape as I strap the box into the back of my car. I sign the papers that confirm I have picked her up and bid the nurses farewell.

I can feel her behind me as I make the long journey home. She endures the ride quietly, patiently, perhaps the quietest baby to ever be strapped into the back of a car for a four-hour road trip. I don’t listen to music. I don’t want to disturb her. I make that long, lonely drive home in silence and I try not to cry.

🌹 • 🌹 • 🌹

The funeral is small, quiet. I stand guard at the back of the room, the silent sentinel dressed in black. My boss’s wife approaches with Rose’s mother and introduces us. The woman is staunch, unwavering, not at all what you would expect of a young mother who has just lost her first and only baby. She is young, maybe two years my senior, but already she looks so wizened.

She gives me a hug and thanks me for bringing her daughter home when she was unable to. She tells me she had wanted to bring Rose home herself, but after the complications of the birth, she wasn’t in any shape to pick her up. I smile and tell her “Any time,” then backpedal in horror at what I have just said. I am glad my boss’s wife has left by now.

She laughs sadly and says, “Hopefully this will be the only time.”

“Absolutely,” I agree. My face is burning red.

She says goodbye and joins her family at the front of the chapel. Her husband, Rose’s father, is sitting alone in a pew, his head bowed in silent weeping. I watch as she sits next to him. She places a hand on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her. They hold each other tightly, desperately clinging onto one another for support.

The service is short. There are no memories to be shared; only three people in this room ever met her: Mom, Dad, and Grandma. The bishop shares some words, some passages of scripture. This is not the end; they will have the chance to be a family again, in the next life. The words are simple, cliché even, but they inspire a feeling of distant hope that settles over the small congregation.

As we lower baby Rose into her grave, the nurse’s voice echoes in my mind. 8 hours. 8 hours she spent with her family. How many breaths did she draw into her frail, tiny body in those 8 hours? How many of those hours were spent in her mother’s arms? How many times were her parents able to tell her they loved her in those 8 hours?

I want to say something. I want to give a final word to a tiny soul that gave everything she had to an uncaring world.

I can’t think of anything to say.

I give her a nod, and then we leave. The city will fill in her grave; for now, I rest in the knowledge that she’s enjoying her last bits of sunlight.

#I saw a post the other day about 'just share your work even if you think no one wants it' and I wrote this three years ago so here you go #writing #writers on tumblr #my writing #nonfiction

[incomingalbatross]

We got to Mass today for the first time since quarantine started!! Didn't feel comfortable receiving this time, but it was still Good.

#catholic #i realized what was really missing from the livestreamed Masses: #babies making baby noises from the pews #happy Pentecost!

[syven-siren]

O Holy Night

Summary: With Polly home sick and unable to attend church, the littlest Shelbys make it their mission to bring the nativity to her. 

Warnings: none // just fluff

Requested by Anon: “Oh can I request a holiday one shot for Michaelxreader? Like so Polly was feeling well and missed the churches Christmas story play and is sad. The all 6 million of the Shelby children decide to put one of their own in to make her happy, bt their kids & don’t know what to do. They get Michael to be Joseph and reader to be marry, Finn and bonnie are wiseman, Cyril is the donkey, & they kinda make a mess trying to do it. But they do and it’s cute & fluffy! Also baby Jesus is played by baby Jesus!”

A/N: Hi anon. I hope you enjoy this one. I wasn’t really sure how to put your whole request together but hopefully it has everything you wanted in it. Thank you for your patience.

The house is quiet even though Polly knows the rest of her family are scattered within the residence. The only noise heard comes from the chiming grandfather clock, indicating the midnight hour. Descending the staircase, the older woman laments her condition. Had she been in better health, Polly would not be ambling down the steps in search of tea but rather in the pews of the church and taking part in the midnight mass. 

By the time she nears the last few steps, Katie is there to greet her with a smile. The girl ignores Polly’s questioning about why she is still awake. Instead, she guides Polly to the parlor where the remaining Shelby family and guests have congregated. 

Polly’s lethargic brain fails to comprehend what she’s witnessing for the first few minutes. In front of the fireplace is a scene so common at this time of year. Haphazardly dressed in blue and cream you rest on a scatter bed of hay straw. In your arms lies a bundle, swaddled in a blanket that Polly is certain comes from Tommy’s room. Michael kneels beside you with eyes downcast with a far-off look that Polly knows so well. He must be imagining a similar scenario that will most likely be a part of his future. The upturned corners of his mouth make Polly confident that Michael is more than happy with the prospect. 

“Aunt Polly! Look! It’s baby Jesus.”

“Yes, it is.” Little George’s infectious smile causes Polly to grin in return before turning to the trio of Finn, Isaiah, and Bonnie, “And who are you supposed to be?”

“Wise men.” 

Polly chuckles at their lack of enthusiasm and homemade costumes. But Cyril lumbering towards her gains her attention. The great bullmastiff is dressed with a ribbon fastened around his head, and what appears to be knitted ears sewn on it, “Oh dear lord. That poor dog.”

In all their excitement, the little ones bombard Polly with hugs, “Aunt Pol! Do you like it? We didn’t want you to be sad that you missed the nativity this year.” 

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

.

.

.

It isn’t long before Tommy makes his way into the house, summoned by the loud cheering of children. It’s not at all surprising that his home is in chaos, but he’s still exasperated at the sight, “Alright, who brought the lamb in the house?”

#peaky blinders x reader #polly gray x reader #polly gray #peaky blinders #michael gray x reader #polly gray x you #polly gray x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinder x y/n #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blindes imagines #polly gray imagines #polly gray imagine #peaky blinders fluff