#Christmas thinspo

[valiantwombatpanda]

It's really hard to eat when you have crest whitening strips on your teeth 👀👀👀

It's really hard to eat after you take the whitening strips off cuz you don't want to stain your teeth 👀👀👀👀

Also... there are 10 days of treatment with the whitening strips meaning for at least 10 days you can use that as an excuse. 👀👀👀

"Oh sorry, I would love to join you for lunch, but I just did a whitening treatment and have to avoid having anything until later tonight. My teeth are sensitive and i dont want to stain them!" 👀👀👀

You have to wear them for 30 minutes, which is long enough to get over the "I want to eat everything in my kitchen" feeling. 👀👀👀👀👀

[anaasscap]

Me fr fr

[sisyphussister]

Christmas time

[chornikovskirodoljub]

[lostloveletters]

Human Touch (Gale Cleven x OC)

Summary: By 1954, Gale Cleven's a widower, and Leona Spinelli's a divorced single mom, but a reunion brings the two lonely hearts together, thawing a mutual longing that had been on ice for over a decade.

Note: I’ve been wanting to write for Buck for a while and thought a post-war dynamic would be an interesting place to start! I hope I did alright with his characterization...Leona was featured briefly in Crimson and Clover. Title comes from the Bruce Springsteen song, but in all honesty, I listened to the I'm On Fire intro loop a lot. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Inevitable historical inaccuracies (I know flavored lip balm wasn't invented until the 70s but let me have this one thing). Some canon divergence. References to death, grief/loss, guilt, and period-typical misogyny. Brief mentions of past sex.

1954

Gale glanced across the bar in the hotel ballroom, and though Leona had no good reason to be looking at him, he hoped she was. Couldn’t exactly tell who she was talking to by the back of the guy’s head, but her hand reached for her conversation partner’s shoulder as she laughed. Gale took a sip of his ginger ale. With the distance, he wasn’t able to tell if her wedding and engagement rings were gone. He had heard as much from Holly, but wanted to see it for himself.

Leona’s profile always made his eyes linger on her longer than they should have. Two thousand years contained in her cupid’s bow lips and strong Roman nose. Whenever he walked into a museum, her face echoed in the clay and marble statues on display. She’d find the complement undoubtedly strange, but she had a knack for making him feel that way.

Like how his stomach flipped when she caught him staring, her dark eyes lighting up at the sight of him. He heard others say making eye contact with her was uncomfortable, a little too intense for their comfort, as if she could see something in them that they weren’t even aware of. In this instance, as he held her gaze, it made him feel awake, whereas for the past few hours, he’d been stumbling around the reunion in a haze of condolences and pitied glances.

She brought her attention back to whoever she was speaking with, said something accompanied by a parting kiss on the cheek. He quickly pulled the toothpick from his mouth and placed it on the cocktail napkin next to his drink. The room fell to a hush as she walked over to him. Or maybe it was the blood pounding in his ears.

“Hi Buck,” she said, giving him a hug, her lips gentle against his cheek. Her hair, the same dark brown as her eyes, brushed the tip of his nose with the gesture and he could smell it—gardenias, lighter and fresher than he remembered, but it’d been a while.

“Good to see you, Leona,” he said, squeezing her lightly against him. She felt almost plush beneath his fingers. Must have gained weight since the last time he held her so close. “Missed you last year.”

“The divorce was a mess. I just couldn’t make it out here.”

His gaze fell to the hand wrapped around her wine glass, the stripe of pale skin on her ring finger nearly matched his. He’d only just stopped wearing his own wedding band two months prior. Felt almost naked without it. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Can’t have it all, huh?” she sighed. “How have you been holding up?”

“Just…taking it day by day.”

“That’s the most you can do sometimes.”

He cleared his throat, placing the toothpick back in his mouth. “Seat’s open, if you want it.”

“Sure, thanks, Buck.” She smiled. “I’m gonna see if I can wave down the bartender from here.”

When she turned beneath the low bar lights, strands of gray shimmered in her dark hair like Christmas tinsel. His mouth went dry for a moment, and he brought his glass to his lips, drinking his watery ginger ale.

She looked good. Really good. About as good as she did in the summer of ‘43, when she basked in the sun the way her cat-like eyes almost implied she would—taking in the rays, her honeyed skin glimmering with a sheen of sweat whenever he saw her sunbathing, her blouse unbuttoned, black heels kicked off in the grass somewhere impossibly quiet. He wondered if, at the time, he had subconsciously gone out of his way to wander to one of her usual spots just to catch a glimpse of her.

He almost slunk into himself when she brought her attention back to him. He knew he looked rough. Bags under his eyes, sometimes would go a day or two before remembering to eat. Going through the motions did him no favors. But he came out for the weekend, if only to placate Bucky and Holly. He was trying.

The bartender refilled Leona’s wine glass, and she took a sip before turning back to Gale. Maybe not exactly liquid courage, but something to loosen her up a little before they actually got into a conversation. From the first day she met him, she thought he looked like an absolute dream, almost acted just like one, too, and the years had been kinder to him than to her. Thought the scars he returned from the Stalags with added a layer of rugged intrigue to his poster-perfect flyboy look.

Barely able to take the time off of work and find a babysitter for Luke, Leona was aware her appearance left much to be desired with the limited time and budget she had been working with. She decided painting her nails and waxing her eyebrows and upper lip took precedence over dyeing the grays that’d been popping up in her hair ever since the divorce. 

He motioned to her drink. “How’s your—“

“Merlot, and this is my second and last glass of the night,” she said. “I don’t even drink around Luke.”

“How is he?” he asked. “Luke’s gotta be three, now, right?”

“He’s actually turning five in October.”

“He’s that old?” Gale smiled. “Shoot, I remember when you showed us his baby pictures.”

“I still have the little hat Marge knitted for him, with the ducks on it and the ribbon,” she said. “Before he got too big for it, I put it on him all the time, especially back when we’d go to the Shore.”

“She was always making things like that. She really appreciated it when you sent the photo of him with it on. Probably still have it around the house somewhere.”

Leona sent a card when she heard from Holly that Marge died. Wasn’t even sure she had the right address at that point, but was surprised to get a response from Gale. A simple thanks, and good wishes for her and her family. Funny to receive in the middle of filing for divorce, but it had been nice to get something in the mail that wasn’t from a lawyer.

‘Best wishes to you, your husband, and Luke’ like he couldn’t remember Will’s name but wanted to be polite. The envelope was addressed to Mrs. Leona Deguire, so she suspected that had been the case.

But Luke. He remembered Luke. She had named her son after the Gospel, the news of her pregnancy the greatest she’d ever heard. The second best day of her life after the day he was born, followed closely by his baptism. 

And she wasn’t even allowed to take communion anymore.

She could forget about that for a few hours, though. Gale was more than good for that, had plenty of stories in his pocket that made her nearly howl with laughter. She noticed, though, that while she accidentally peppered in mentions of Will, however dismissively, Gale didn’t really bring up Marge. Made her wonder if she misstepped in mentioning the hat, if she simply shoved her finger into an open wound instead of sharing a fond memory. She nearly scoffed at herself. Of course she had. His wife had died suddenly and tragically. It wasn’t a contentious and bitter divorce like she had.

Luke was a safe conversation topic. Gale at least seemed interested in her little anecdotes about her son and his antics. In the middle of a story about Luke and some of his friends, the opening notes of an all too familiar song began playing, and a cacophony of groans and heckling was directed toward Bucky.

“Oh god,” Gale groaned.

Leona laughed. “Can’t say I missed that last year.”

“Do you wanna take this conversation somewhere else?” he asked, his voice nearly drowned out by Bucky’s off-key singing.

“That sounds perfect. Let me close out my tab.”

She got up from her seat to wave down the bartender. 

Gale’s attention turned to Bucky, half-serenading a giggling, blushing Holly—until Bucky nodded toward Leona and winked at him. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to thank or strangle his best friend in that moment, but Leona rejoined him before he had time to do more than shoot a playful glare Bucky’s way.

“They’re so funny,” Leona said, a slight smile on her face.

“If you mean funny–weird, then yeah, they’re funny.”

“Well, where are we off to now?”

“Is my room alright?” he asked.

She nodded. “Sure.”

Walking side by side to the elevator, she wondered if the heat radiating off of him was real, or just the buzz she had after two glasses of wine with barely anything else to eat or drink for the past few hours. Christ, she couldn’t hold her alcohol as well as she used to. Things looked almost sideways until she leaned against the wall on the far side of the elevator, watching as Gale pressed the button for the seventh floor. Her room was on the fifth.

“You okay, Lee?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said when the elevator doors finally opened. “I–I think I just need a glass of water or something.”

Almost felt like a sunburn, his hand on the small of her back, leading her to his hotel room with concern etched across his handsome face. She nearly insisted she was fine, but knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew for sure.

He sat her on the edge of the bed and disappeared into the bathroom for a few moments. Her gaze fell to her hands as the faucet ran, her nose crinkling in disappointment when she noticed her cheap drugstore nail polish already chipping. Should’ve dyed her hair instead.

Gale emerged from the bathroom with a glass of water before she could sink too far into the depths of self-consciousness. “You’re probably dehydrated.” It seemed he'd thrown away his toothpick while in there, too. Almost odd to see him without it.

He sat down next to her, rubbing comforting circles on her back as she drank. It was almost too overwhelming. She hadn’t been taken care of in so long, but she felt like her head was back on straight with something other than wine in her.

“Thanks,” she said, setting the glass down on the nightstand and wishing he hadn’t pulled his hand away from her when she did. “I really don’t drink. Especially not around—I already told you that, didn’t I?”

He smiled sympathetically. “Who's been watching Luke since you’re out here?”

“One of my neighbors in the building. He likes going over there anyway, they have a television and their son is about his age, so they play cops and robbers, or superheroes.”

“It’s good he’s made friends.”

“He sees—maybe sees isn’t the right word since he refuses to wear his glasses,” she half-joked. “Everything's an adventure to him. He hasn’t started asking a lot of questions yet—not the heavy stuff, anyway—so it gives me time to think of answers.”

“Must be hard on your own.”

“I manage. It took a while to find a job that paid halfway decent, but the alimony helps,” she said. “I think once we settle down somewhere, I’ll buy a television. Not that anyone in their right mind would give me a line of credit, but I can save up for one if I’m careful. I think he deserves it after everything.”

“He’s lucky to have you as a mother.” The sincerity in his voice made her breath catch in her throat. “You’re doing a lot for him, more than most people could handle. You’ve always been pretty tough, though.”

She couldn’t acknowledge the compliment or she’d start crying. Wasn’t something she heard very often, typically the opposite over the past year or so.

In Newark, the first day she showed up to work without her rings on was her last, as her boss brought her into his office and told her that as a family business, he simply couldn’t abide a woman separated from her husband working there. Humiliation and rage initially blinded her through the first few hundred miles of the drive to Nevada to establish the six-week residency required to file for divorce from Will. Making the move with Luke in tow, the reason she was certain divorce was the right choice in the first place, replaced those feelings with determination to make the messy situation work.

Money was inevitably tight on her lone income until the court finally ordered Will to back pay alimony. But she had a chance to really start over, without the judgmental stares and whispers from the people she’d spent her whole life around. Outright condemnation from her oldest sister, a nun, disapproval from her parents, and varying degrees of skepticism from the rest of her siblings. How could they expect her to grin and bear it, to allow her son to grow up in a home where his own father barely acknowledged his existence, hardly bothered to even pretend he gave a damn about him, so complacent in the casual cruelty. She felt almost sick thinking about it again.

“I don’t know if I’ll stay in Reno forever, especially with Luke starting school next year. It’d be like raising him in Atlantic City,” she said, quickly waving her hand as if to dismiss her own worry. “But I’ll figure it out, maybe go to a few different places and see where he likes best.”

“I’m back in Wyoming for a while. You two are more than welcome to visit if you want to make the trip.”

“How long is a while?”

“Till the end of the summer, at least.”

“Are you sure, Gale?” she asked. “I mean, Luke’s a good kid, but he can be a little wild sometimes. I just don’t want to put you out or anything.”

He smiled. “I’m sure he and I will get along just fine. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.”

“Reno to Wyoming…I’ll have to drive through Utah or something, won’t I?”

“We’ll find Croz tomorrow and get him to map it for us.”

She laughed. “Come on, I made it from Newark to Reno on my own, and I only got lost twice. Maybe three times, but that last one was because Luke had to go to some miniatures museum in Oklahoma.”

“Oklahoma?” He raised an eyebrow. “What were you doing driving through there to get to Reno from Jersey?”

“We mapped out a road trip ahead of time. I wanted to make it fun for him, not like he was stuck in the car for a week because…” she trailed off, sighing softly to herself.

“It sounds to me like you did the right thing.”

“That means a lot coming from you.”

His light scoff held a hint of nervousness. “It shouldn’t.” 

“Why not?”

“Come on, Lee.”

Her lips twitched a bit. “You were far from my worst, Gale.”

“The way I acted after was horrible.”

“You were scared,” she said. “We all were.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I’ve barely even thought about it since then,” she lied.

“That’s funny. It’s always…been on my mind, somehow,” he said, fidgeting with his watch. “Maybe—maybe I made it out to be more than it was.”

“What was it to you?”

“Back then?” He hesitated. “Everything.”

Leona was silent for a few moments, her feline gaze sizing him up. “I would’ve never guessed.”

He only ever lingered, made himself known to her one time. The space had been murky, there was no other way for him to put it. Blindsided by a letter in which Marge expressed the desire to end things despite all of her promises otherwise, Gale spent hours pouring over her previous letters for some indication of her discontent, a tell he had foolishly missed. It wasn’t until Bucky pulled him from his cot, telling him moping wouldn’t do him any good, that he should embrace his singleness, as if he weren’t already head over heels with Holly.

Gale embraced Leona instead. He’d always liked her. Interesting, nice to talk to, but most of all, he wanted her to see him, really see him, and know for certain that deep inside him there was someone worth wanting, maybe even loving, despite everything else. 

Her buttery skin shimmered with sweat which lent a salty tinge to her usual gardenias, the foreign name of her perfume whispered softly in his ear when he sat next to her in the grass and mentioned it. Made him feel dizzy, her proximity and his heartbreak mixing into a heady impulsiveness that saw him placing a hand on her knee, and then a bit higher when she smiled at the gesture. Felt that smile against his own lips, fingers digging into her tender thighs in an attempt to steady himself. In that single sweltering afternoon, he fell a little bit in love with Leona Spinelli, and never quite fell out of it. 

And it did scare him, how quickly the taste of her cherry-balmed lips and sounds of her moans seared in his memory.

The sleepless night that followed found him scrawling an impassioned letter to Marge imploring her to give them another chance, to not give up on them (not as easily as he seemed to, though he never whispered a word of it to her in shame—perhaps not so much for doing it, but for finding pleasure in another woman so easily). She was worth fighting for, that one last desperate cry for the woman who was his one and only.

An alien sickness filled his gut when he confronted Leona after bringing the letter to be sent back Stateside. It was a mistake, he told her, he should have never taken advantage of her kindness the way he did, so intimately and impulsively. Her gaze cut through him like shards of glass, though her voice was cool when she assured him she understood and they could still be friends.

Miraculously, she didn’t hate him. He was almost certain she would. They didn’t speak much again after that, but just as everyone else had, she embraced him upon his escape from the Germans, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek and a ‘Welcome back, Major’ , his knees almost giving out at the gesture.

“Leona, I should’ve—“ 

Except she was asleep, lying on the bed like she did on the blanket she’d taken from the women’s barracks back then, during his last summer as a free man for nearly two years. 

He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before lying down on the other side of the bed, a respectable amount of space between them. When he closed his eyes, he fell into a dreamless sleep for the first time in weeks.

The following morning, Leona awoke to a dimly lit room, a top sheet having been thrown over her at some point. Good thing, because her skirt had bunched up, and she awkwardly pulled it down before pushing the covers off. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw Gale standing in front of the nearby mirror.

She realized she hadn’t seen him in anything besides a uniform, as like Bucky, he continued his career in the Air Force following the end of the war instead of returning to civilian life like so many others.

“Do you own any other clothes?” she asked, her voice hoarse and judgment lacking from drowsiness.

He snickered. “Yes, I do, and good morning.”

“Morning,” she said, sitting up. The glass on the nightstand was full again, and she smiled softly at Gale in thanks before taking a sip of water. “What time is it?”

“A little after eight. You fell asleep around midnight.”

“Oh, you could’ve kicked me out.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Lee. Besides, there was plenty of room.”

She got up from the bed and made her way over to him, feeling a bit awkward standing beside him in her wrinkled clothes. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Better than I have in a while,” he said, adjusting his tie in the mirror before turning to her. “How about you?”

“I just have a little bit of a crick in my neck is all.” 

She tilted her head to the side slightly, trying to relieve the tension that had built up overnight but winced when she pushed it too far.

He placed his hand on the side of her neck, his fingers pressing tenderly against her skin. “Here?”

“Yeah.” She knew he could feel it, her rabbit pulse thumping beneath his touch.

His gaze fell to her parted lips. Each breath she took gently beckoned him closer, to close the distance between them. Either her sighing or his imagination rang in his ears with a whisper-quiet plea—‘kiss me’. 

She didn’t leave him any room for doubt or hesitation, kissing him back as soon as his lips met hers. Different from how she remembered, the combination of experience and longing made her a little weak in the knees. It’d been so long since she’d been kissed, and kissed so well, at that. She nearly whined when he pulled away.

“My address is the same,” he said quietly, his nose brushing hers.

Her brows furrowed. “What?”

“From when you sent the card,” he said. “I really wanna see you again, Leona, and I don’t wanna have to wait another year for that to happen.”

She hesitated, letting his words settle in her mind before responding. “Are you sure it’s not too soon?”

“Rather it be too soon than too late. These things…you never know.”

“Oh Gale,” she whispered, caressing his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t—don’t pity me. You weren’t doing that last night,” he said. “It was the first time in a while that I felt like I was having a real conversation with someone besides Bucky.”

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. I have to square some things in Reno first, like telling Luke, most importantly. If you give me your phone number, I’ll call you when I get home and have a better idea of when we can visit.”

He nodded. “Anytime, Lee. I’ll be waiting there for you.”

“Maybe we should make it a surprise, then,” she joked. “Keep you on your toes.”

He smiled, pulling her closer and kissing her again.

She felt almost sorry when she reminded him that she still needed to go down to her own hotel room to shower and change clothes. Ten minutes of gentle coaxing and half a dozen kisses that were supposed to be the last before she slipped out, but not without swollen lips, hopelessly mussed hair, and the ghost of his hands squeezing her hips. 

In return, she had his phone number written neatly on the hotel stationary and folded securely between her fingers, and the satisfaction of finally knowing what he sounded like when he moaned without holding back.

[rynana22]

OKKKKAAAAYYYYYY I am officially back down to 144.8

Jesus Mary and Joseph if I don’t stop binging on junk I think I’ll reach my goal by Christmas.

Liquid fasting today if I have the willpower.

Send me thinspo to help me plz 👉👈🥹

[finnegancosmos]

✎﹏﹏Welcome to the Cozy Corner﹏﹏

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[railthinangel]

Recent thinspo for myself

- to be skinny for Christmas/look good in my pj's and photos

- to be pretty for my bf

- look cute in my snow gear

- not be embarrassed to eat at holiday meals

- shock my relatives when they see me again

- to not look fat when wearing layers

- to feel the cold

- look good in senior photos

- surprise peers when I come back from break

- to not feel insecure around other girls (it's so bad)

- just to be skinny

[1justwannabep3rfect]

going to christmas family gatherings just to use your cousin as thinspo

[sageragecorner]

I'm super happy because I did a 67hr fast and drank a lot of water while trying to get to at least 5k steps a day and I dropped 3kgs in 67hrs...i feel so proud of myself but here's what I learned from this experience :

1. after 50hrs my body seemed to really adapt to the hunger and I suddenly felt nothing. no hunger at all but I was just super tired.

2. at this point I felt super faint and ready to pass out at anytime which sucked because I was doing a lot besides my workouts.

3. chugging ice cold water totally helps when I feel like I can't go on and boosts my energy and mood.

4. i know this may have been a cheat but at 46hrs I had a had a hot chocolate and it satisfied my hunger enough to keep going. felt like crap afterwards though cause I was convinced I would gain more weight (I didn't though :)) so maybe a hot chocolate mug is good to have I guess.

5. hunger came back at 65ish hours but I tried to stay afloat by distracting myself with reading which totally helped... I'm sure a movie would also distract me enough.

6. I surrounded myself with thinspo pics by changing my phone wallpaper to a collage of thinspo images and it was motivational.

7. avoid walking into the kitchen or seeing food as much as possible. that was a big help.

8. chewing gum really helped when I felt faint. don't know why but it kept me afloat.

9. the first 24 hours were the hardest but after that I could handle it. turns out I'm stronger than I give myself credit for.

honestly this was an amazing experience for me. really showed me that I definitely have a lot of strength and I can really get to my ugw if I want it bad enough. I'm definitely going to get to 72hrs in the future. I'm actually thinking of doing a 3 day fast every single week and having a single hot chocolate mug when I'm at my weakest of course. from a frightening 75kg all the way down to 72kg in 3 days might not seem like much but it's actually so much I could sob rn. I broke my fast after 67hrs because I had to go to a dumb food festival dinner thingy with my parents but surprisingly I only ate half a mushroom calzone and was so full I couldn't move. I took that as a good sign cause it means I may have shrunk my intake because of the fast. weighed myself before the dinner and I was at 72.6kg and this morning I'm at a clear 72.0kg so I didn't even gain from it... I actually lost. super proud of myself already. I can do it. I can get to my GW which is 60kg before Christmas if I keep going. and to whoever reads this long ass post you can do it too. you are in control.

[gaywizzie]

I’ve hit my third gw: 125 and now I’m about 122 lbs! My starting weight was 150 btw. I’m on the right track but I want to hit 115 before Christmas do you guys have any tips or diets I should try?

Winter thinspo ❄️⛸️🎄

Lmk if you want progress pictures 💗

[valiantwombatpanda]

You know what feels REALLLYYYY good???

Eating in front of others when you're skinny. OMG does it feel like such a win. I'm not talking a small slice of pizza, I'm talking a WHOLE pizza. I purposely will not eat for days until I'm in front of other people simply so I can stuff my face and 1. Impress everyone and 2. Enjoy my food while simultaneously enjoying the attention I get.

"God. You're so skinny!!! Where does it all go?"

"Wow. You ate all that? How???"

"There's no way you were able to eat that entire plate? You're so small I don't understand?"

"I wish I could eat like that!"

And when they ask or suspect? "Oh I've always been like this. My doctor says everyone has a different norm and this is just mine IG. Better enjoy it now before I get older! Haha"

[strvingbeautyx]

EVERY ANA GIRLIE PLEASE SEND CHRISTMAS THINSPO I LOVE CHRISTMAS AND STARVING PLEASE I NEED IT !!!!!!!!!!!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[sisyphussister]

when you’re visiting family for Christmas and your mom says you look awfully skinny and asks if you’ve been losing weight again

[tinykenobi]

Hello there!🧸

Please read this post before interacting with me

This blog is a SFW age regression blog. If you don’t like agere then you’re welcome to block me.

DNI LIST:

-ANY KINK BLOGS AT ALL (including ABDL/Ddlg) I DON’T CARE IF YOUR CONTENT IS SFW IF IT’S FOR KINK DON’T INTERACT WITH MY POSTS. Not only should kink not be in SFW spaces but I have used kinks as a form of SH in the past and I don’t want to interact with those spaces, period.

-thinspo/proana/ED blogs

-racists, homophobes, transphobes, and other bigots

About me!

-You can call me Obi-wan, Obi, kiddo, or little one

-I use they/he pronouns

-I’m 26, but my little age is 3-5 (please do not message me if you are a minor, for both our safety and because it makes me uncomfortable. You can still reblog from me though)

-I use regression as a way to cope with my CPTSD and autism (+ other things I haven’t been evaluated for yet)

-I have a wonderful husband who is also my CG

-this is NOT a star wars rp blog! Lets just say i have a very complicated mental situation that has not yet been untangled by a professional

Likes:

-Anything Disney and Star Wars! (obviously) 🍭

-being cozy 💜

-soft toys and stuffies 🧸

-my favourite shows are Muppet Babies, Young Jedi Adventures, TOTS, Mickey Mouse Funhouse, and Bear in the Big Blue House📺

-my favourite movie ever is Nightmare Before Christmas💀

-video games, especially FNAF and Dreamlight Valley 🎮

-Coloring 🖍️

-crafts like cross-stitch and crochet 🧶

-cold/rainy/snowy weather 🌧️

Dislikes:

-mean people👹

-“adulting” whatever that’s supposed to mean 🧐

-crowded/very loud places 📣

-when my stuffies fall off the bed while I sleep 🥺

[lostloveletters]

Still Crazy After All These Years (Bucky Egan x OC)

Summary: It's a perfect Saturday evening in spring, which means only one thing for the Egans: baseball (specifically their son's Little League game).

Note: Fluffy post-war fic of Holly and Bucky being unhinged Little League parents (but we love them for it🥲) Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: None.

“C’mon ump, that was out!” Bucky shouted from the bleachers. “Foul ball my as—butt,” he muttered to Holly, who had three-year-old Cynthia in her lap, her chestnut hair pulled up in twin ponytails that blew along with the late spring breeze.

The mid-May air was heavy with DC’s summer creeping up on them. The swampy, humid season dragged along until he finally reached fall’s reprieve. Spring was perfect, though, with its early season baseball games and cherry blossom festival. 

“It’s ridiculous.” Holly shook her head, her hand in the bag of pretzels she brought along, having carefully broken some into smaller pieces for Cindy.

“Who’s pitching? Is that the Baker kid?”

She nodded. “Yeah, Terry and Lynn’s youngest boy, Danny. He’s pretty good when he’s focused.”

“I can’t see,” Cindy pouted.

“Come on up, princess,” Bucky said, lifting his daughter and holding her on his hip. “Better?”

She nodded, wrapping her small arms around him as best as she could. 

“You know, when you’re a little older, they have leagues just like this for girls.”

“Honey.”

“I’m just letting Cindy know she has options!”

“Where’s Henry?” Cindy asked.

“You see him, right over there?” Bucky pointed at the boy playing shortstop whose dark, curly hair was barely contained beneath his blue baseball cap, a big orange ‘B’ for Bears embroidered on it. All of the local Little League teams were named after some type of animal, and Henry’s game schedule made him feel like he was in the Wizard of Oz with how many lions and tigers and bears were on the sheet of paper he brought home from his first day of practice.

“Henry! It’s Cindy!” she shouted, waving frantically at her brother.

The boy looked up, waving in the general direction of his family. Bucky and Holly had been in the middle of packing up the Christmas decorations when Henry asked them if he could sign up for the neighborhood Little League team that upcoming spring. Holly nearly dropped a box of glass ornaments in excitement.

Watching a major league game, Yankees or not, paled in comparison to cheering on for his own son. Even strikeouts and missed catches made Bucky overwhelmed with pride, because Henry was out there trying, making mistakes he could improve on in their backyard with Bucky’s encouragement to buoy Henry’s spirits if he felt a little discouraged—or got distracted. He had to give the coach credit. Keeping the attention of a dozen six- and seven-year-old boys long enough to teach them how to play a decent game of baseball couldn’t have been an easy feat.

“Out!” the umpire shouted.

Holly clapped as Henry’s team left the field to line up near home plate. “Now we’re talking.”

The kid batting before Henry hit a pop fly and was out before he could even make it a few feet from home plate. Bucky heard Holly take a deep breath when Henry walked up to bat. First pitch was a strike, but the second was almost perfect, the crack of the bat breaking through the crowd’s murmuring. The ball flew into the outfield, landing just in front of the chain link fence that separated the baseball field from the playground.

“Nice hit, Henry!” Bucky shouted.

Holly jumped up, bag of pretzels spilling across the bleachers. “Way to go, sweetheart!”

Bucky grabbed Holly’s hand as they watched their son pass first and make it to second before the centerfielder could throw the ball back to the infield.

“Kid’s a natural,” Bucky whispered excitedly, as all good parents do, adoration filling his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of Cindy’s head. Holly liked to joke that the day Henry was born, Bucky cried more than their newborn baby did, but their son, and later their daughter, too, were the culmination of every hope and dream he desperately clung to for the better part of two years of just surviving. Because of that, he’d do anything for them.

He watched as the inning continued, his eyes on Henry the whole time. The next batter managed to get to first, but Henry flew past third and made a break for home just as the second baseman caught the ball.

“Go Henry!” Holly shouted. “Go go go!”

“You got this Henry! Come on buddy!”

Bucky was sure his heart was going to explode by the time Henry slid to home plate, barely a second before the ball flew into the catcher’s hand.

“Safe!” the umpire announced, nearly drowned out by Holly’s screaming.

“Attaboy Henry!” Bucky cheered.

“He did it! He fuc—flipping did it!” Holly gave Bucky a celebratory kiss, the two of them hardly able to contain their smiles long enough for their lips to meet for all that long. 

The rest of the game flew by. Nothing could compare to the rush of watching Henry steal home. The Bears won by a run, and Holly and Bucky were equally convinced it was thanks to their son. As soon as they found him after the game was over, Holly engulfed him in a hug, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“You did fantastic, sweetie! What a game!” she exclaimed, almost looking a bit teary-eyed when she took Cindy’s hand in hers.

“Look at you! Stole home like a champ,” Bucky said with a smile, pulling off Henry’s cap to ruffle his hair.

Henry smiled, front tooth missing, the first of his baby teeth to fall out. The tooth fairy had left him a quarter to mark the occasion. “Thanks, dad.”

“I think this calls for ice cream,” Holly said, as if they didn’t go for ice cream after every game Bucky was able to go to.

Bucky nodded. “Definitely. Whatever you kids want.”

——

Scoopland was one of the first places Holly had taken him to when they were stateside and he made the move to DC with her. A neighborhood staple she frequented before the war, she’d been excited to bring him there. The place boasted over 20 different flavors of ice cream, and after trying them all over the course of their first summer together after the war, found he liked their Rocky Road the best. Holly was partial to mint chocolate chip, a newer flavor which he thought tasted like toothpaste. 

Bucky walked up to the counter, tasked with ordering the ice cream while Holly wrangled Henry and Cindy into a nearby booth. She had the most difficulty getting Henry to sit down, since he spotted some friends from his baseball team on the other side of the ice cream shop.

“How’s it going Mr. Egan?” the teenage boy behind the counter asked.

“Can’t complain.”

“The usual for you guys?”

Bucky smiled. The usual. He wasn’t sure he ever figured himself to be the type of guy to have a usual at an ice cream place, but parenthood changed a lot of things. Sometimes, Cindy dealt out tea parties and temper tantrums in the same day. Henry got himself a trip to the emergency room just a few months prior while he was sledding on a snow day with his friends and went straight through a neighbor’s fence. He wasn’t sure how Holly managed on her own when he’d go away for work. At least her parents were nearby and took every opportunity to spoil their grandchildren that was presented to them.

He brought the four cups of ice cream over to the table, two in each hand, and placed the hot fudge sundae in front of Henry and tutti frutti with extra rainbow sprinkles in front of Cindy. He gave Holly a kiss as he handed her the cup of mint chocolate chip and snickered to himself when he sat down next to Cindy and saw Henry’s nose scrunched on the other side of the table.

“Listen champ, if there’s ever a day I don’t kiss your mom, that’s when you should be making that face.”

“‘S gross,” Henry said through a mouthful of ice cream.

“So is talking with your mouth full.”

Cindy stuck out her tongue, a distorted rainbow of ice cream and toppings that made Henry laugh.

“Next time, we’re taking you both to the zoo and leaving you there so the monkeys can raise you,” Holly said.

“We’re going to the zoo?” Henry asked. “When?”

“I wanna see a zebra and a giraffe!” Cindy exclaimed.

“How about next weekend?” Bucky looked to Holly for her approval, which was given in the smile that’d begrudgingly spread across her face.

Everything said and done, they made a damn good team as parents. Maybe he indulged the kids a little more than he should have, but Holly did her fair share of it too, letting Henry skip school to bring him and Cindy to weekday Nationals games for the hell of it. 

“Can I go say ‘hi’ to Danny and Paul?” Henry asked, looking over his shoulder at his friends who were waving at him.

“Fifteen minutes, but we’re heading home soon. It’s past your sister’s bedtime,” Holly said. “Don’t climb over the seat, Henry, that’s—” She sighed as he climbed over the back of the booth anyway, leaving a streak of dirt from his sneakers behind him. “He definitely gets it from you.”

“Me? The first time I met your parents, they made a point to tell me how much of a wild child you were,” Bucky reminded her with a grin.

Her parents were gracious enough to let him stay with them until he and Holly found a place of their own, although he was sure her returning with a ring on her finger made it easier for them to welcome him into their home. Holly must have done a hell of a job talking him up in her letters to them, because none of the awkward tension he’d been expecting was there when he first walked through the door to meet them.

Holly laughed to herself as she wiped off the seat with a napkin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Drawing on your bedroom walls?” he pressed.

“Can I draw on my walls?” Cindy asked.

“No. It wasn’t good when mommy did it.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have nice paper we bought for you to draw on, baby,” Holly said.

“It’s not as fun.”

“Sure it is,” Bucky said. “Remember the other day when we drew that castle with the unicorn and the dragon?”

She yawned. “You made the unicorn look funny.”

“Are you sleepy, Cin?” Holly asked.

Despite shaking her head, Cindy rubbed her eyes. She always did whatever she could to push out her bedtime, as if she were afraid she might miss something big if she went to sleep.

“I guess I should’ve asked mom and dad to watch her, huh?” Holly said. “I didn’t think we’d be out this late.”

Cindy mumbled something incomprehensible before dozing off.

Holly laughed softly, “And she’s out.”

“I got her,” Bucky said, picking up Cindy from her seat and placing her in his lap. She immediately curled up against him, and he tried not to think too much about how he wouldn’t know when the last time she’d ever do that would be. Hell, Henry was six and already ditching them to hang out with his friends. He glanced over at his son, face scrunched up in laughter at a joke one of them told him. His smile was like looking in a little mirror. 

Bucky ate a spoonful of ice cream, trying to tamper down the ache in his chest.

“You ever thought this would be how you’d spend your Saturday nights?” Holly asked teasingly.

“No.” Bucky smiled. “This is a lot better.”