#annie's pantry

[online-pet-shop-singapore]

Five Must-Try Foods for Dog Weight Gain | Unleash the Muscle Power!

[oshaskell]

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 12 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, allusion to smut, contractions, water breaking, labor and delivery, and Eddie wasn't there, epidural, medical emergency, lots of fluff

WC: 4.3k

A/N: I could not have written this piece without @the-unforgivenn 💚 everything accurate in this fic is because of her, and everything inaccurate is because of me. I love you, Annie. Thank you for asking my random birth-related questions at all hours.

Divider credit to @saradika

November 4, 1999

At nine months pregnant, everything hurts.

Perhaps that’s why when you wake up for work with an extra pinch in your back, you cast off any worries. Or maybe it’s because you still have over a week until you’re due, and first babies tend to take their time arriving, so there’s no possible way that today is the day.

You shrug on a sweater and your most comfortable pair of maternity jeans, your body heavy with pregnancy and fatigue. Your movements are sluggish, even more so than usual, and Eddie notices as he stands out the counter, shoveling a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into his mouth.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” he asks, tongue darting out to swipe a drip of milk from his lower lip.

Nodding, you massage just above your tailbone in a meager attempt to ease the pain. “Mhm,” you lie, grabbing two granola bars from the pantry. You unwrap one and take a big bite, letting the chocolate chips melt in your mouth. “Just ready to have this baby.” Another lie, or possibly a half truth; while you’re eager to have your body to yourself again, the prospect of labor and delivery terrifies you.

Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, his palms gently rubbing your bump. “Eleven more days and then we’ll be a family of four.”

“Baby Brother is taking forever to get here,” Harris laments from his seat at the table, spearing a banana slice with his fork. He glances at your stomach with impatient eyes. “Can’t you do something to hurry him up?”

You cough as your husband’s cheeks flush pink; he rakes a ringed hand through his curls. No doubt he’s remembering last night when he’d innocently lifted your belly to relieve some of the pressure, only to find himself hard as a rock as his fingers lightly dug into your skin. I’ll go slow so I don’t send you into early labor, he’d remarked with a teasing wink. 

“Gotta be patient,” Eddie says now, seemingly having recovered from the brief flashback. He slurps the remaining milk from the bowl and stifles a belch, reaching for his jacket and keys. “Have a great day at work,” he kisses you, smiling against your lips, “and school.” He ruffles Harris’s hair, and just like that, he’s out the door. 

Harris finishes his breakfast, placing his empty plate in the sink and scampering to the door to put on his sneakers. You watch enviously as he ties them with ease; you’ve been relegated to slip-on shoes until your feet are no longer swollen. 

“Come on, Mommy,” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I don’t wanna miss the bus.”

You silently pray that the short walk to the bus stop will ease your muscle tension, taking careful steps as you trail behind the far-too-energetic-for-8 AM little boy. 

Eleven more days. Only eleven more days, you tell yourself. The reminder has tears prickling along your lash line in a double-edged sword. You don’t think you can handle eleven more days of this discomfort, but will you truly be ready to have a newborn baby in less than two weeks? Once you give birth, you can no longer shield your baby from the world’s dangers and cruelties. Will your love be enough? Will you be enough? And how can you possibly figure it all out in just eleven days?

Your mantra of eleven more days turns out to be just six hours. Since Will became a teacher two years ago, the two of you have made it a habit to spend time together after the students’ dismissal. You’re preparing art materials for tomorrow’s class when you feel it—a trickle of liquid sliding down your leg. 

Your eyes widen, heat crawling up your neck and into your face. I peed myself at work. It had happened once last month, but it was preceded by a sneeze, and you were already in the parking lot about to go home. When you’d told Eddie that evening, the two of you laughed so hard that you’d wet yourself again. 

But this feels…different. 

“Oh, no.” There’s another small stream, but it isn’t accompanied by any relief on your bladder. Your worried murmur gets Will’s attention, and he looks at you with concern. “I think my water broke, but I don’t know…it might just be pee…” Your voice trails off before you can speak in circles. 

Will leaps to his feet. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” The pair of scissors he’s been using to cut out paper stars clatter to the table as he rushes to your side. 

“Call Eddie,” you mumble, gripping your bump as a cramp—most likely a contraction, you realize—squeezes at your pelvis. “Tell him to—shit—to get my bag from the apartment and bring it to the hospital.” You bite your lip to stifle a groan. “I’ll call Wayne and ask him to get Harris from the bus.”  

He nods, dialing from the classroom phone as you rattle off the record store’s number. You pull your own Nokia cell phone—a purchase Eddie had insisted upon after you got pregnant, wanting to make sure you and Baby Munson stayed safe. 

“So, um,” Will hesitates after you’ve hung up with Wayne, ending the conversation with a promise to let him know as soon as the baby is born, “Eddie was in the middle of a guitar lesson, so I left a message with one of his employees—”

Please don’t say Ev, you wordlessly plead. Anyone but the stoner who can barely remember to show up to work on time. 

“Ev, I think?”

Shit. 

Will hooks his arm with yours, providing you with the stability to stand up. “Let’s get you to the hospital, all right? Maybe it’s a false alarm or something.”

You nod, but deep down, you know that this baby is on his way. Call it mother’s intuition, you muse wryly. 

After a quick stop in Principal Sinclair’s office to explain the situation, Will helps you into his Chevy Impala, grimacing along with you when another contraction hits. “Should we be timing those?”

You grit your teeth. “Shit, y-yeah. I completely forgot.” All those birthing books you’d read cover to cover to prepare for this moment, and you hadn’t even remembered to time your own damn contractions. “We need to track how long they last and the amount of time between them.”

Will remains unfazed. “We’ll just start now,” he says simply, flicking his wrist to check his watch. “It’s 2:32. Let me know when you get another one.” He turns the key in the ignition, taking your hand before putting the gear shift into drive. “It’ll be okay. Eddie’s gonna get the message, and he’ll be here soon.”

It’s as though he can read your mind, and you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He’s right; if you are in labor, it’s still early enough that Eddie won’t miss the birth. 

You hope. 

Your contractions are one minute long and twelve minutes apart by the time you reach Hawkins General Hospital, growing slightly stronger with each wave. Will relays the information to the receptionist, his voice wavering with nerves and excitement despite his best efforts to remain calm. 

Before you know it, you’re being wheeled into a room, a laminated bracelet with your personal details dangling from your wrist. The clock on the wall indicates that it’s just past 3 PM, which means that Eddie should be here in a few minutes. 

As if on cue, the cell phone in your purse chirps its familiar ringtone. Harris had insisted that you change it from the standard option, choosing one that sounds like birds chirping. It normally reminds you of springtime mornings; right now, you’re ready to throw it through the window. 

Will passes it to you, and you punch the answer button with an impatient, “hello?”

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Eddie’s carefree demeanor wafts through the speaker, “just wanted to check in and see if you’re feeling any better. Did you want me to pick up something from the store on my way—?”

Dammit, Ev. “Eddie, my water broke at work. Will called earlier and left a message,” you manage, maneuvering around the heart rate monitor to brace for another contraction. “I’m—ughhh, shit—I’m at the hospital.”

“What?!” You can hear his sudden shift to panic; the phone drops from his grasp and clatters on the counter before he retrieves it, uttering a slew of swear words. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Your bag’s at home, right? Oh, and Harris! Shit, let me—”

“Wayne’s on it,” you tell him, hopefully putting an end to his mile-a-minute thoughts. “I just need my bag and my husband.” 

There’s a relieved sigh on the other end of the line. “I can provide both.” His humor peeks through his fear in subtle reassurance. “Be there ay-sap. I love you so fucking much.” 

“Love you, too.” A soft click tells you that he’s on his way, probably simultaneously scrambling for his keys and shouting at his employee. 

Nearly an hour later, there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will blots the perspiration on your forehead with a cloth; out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s watching the clock as well. “He’ll be here,” he says as though reading your mind. Or maybe he’s scared that he’ll have to stand in for Eddie throughout the entire process. “In the meantime, I’ll flag down a nurse so we can get you that epidural.” His words are even, but his smile is uneasy, both of you well-aware that he is out of his element. Though he’ll deny it vehemently, you know you owe him. Big-time.

“Why don’t you grab yourself some food from the cafeteria?” You’d heard his stomach growling just before, and he can certainly use a break. 

Will nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Do you want anything?” he asks out of habit, cheeks tinged pink as you shake your dismal cup of ice chips. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He ducks out of the room as a nurse walks in. 

“Are we considering an epidural, Mrs. Munson?” she asks. Her bright smile is one you’ll be unable to return until after the pain medication takes effect. 

“Y-Yeah, please.” You shift uncomfortably while she examines you and announces that your cervix is four centimeters dilated. Part of you is relieved that labor is progressing at a pace where Eddie should arrive in time for the delivery; another part just wants this baby out of you, now. 

The nurse makes a note on your chart. “I’ll let the anesthesiologist know.” Another unreciprocated grin and she’s gone, off to poke and prod the next patient. 

Alone for a moment, you relish the quiet, save for the soft beeps of the machines you’re connected to. With great care, you caress the swell of your stomach where your son has developed from a microscopic speck to a full-term baby. 

“Your daddy will get here soon,” you murmur to your sensor-covered belly, “hopefully before you do.” You laugh for a second until another contraction squeezes you from the inside, shifting your expression from amused to pained. 

The anesthesiologist and Will arrive at the same time, the former pausing to let your impromptu birth partner enter first. He walks with more enthusiasm now that he’s eaten, though his meal threatens to reappear when he sees the doctor pull out the comically oversized needle. 

“Just lean forward,” she says to you, “you’ll feel some pressure, but once the medication kicks in, it’ll be worth it.” She offers you a kind smile before turning to Will and explaining, “you may need to help her.”

“Mhm. Sure.” Will mumbles, avoiding looking at the needle. You clasp your hand in his so you can sit up. The cool air raises goosebumps on the sliver of flesh no longer covered by the gown, but the chill is quickly replaced by a stinging sensation that has you gripping Will’s palm. You don’t realize the strength of your grasp until you hear him mutter, “ow,” but you don’t let go until the burning ceases. 

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, watching him shake out his hand. “About all of this. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your afternoon.”

He shakes his head and guides you back against the pillow. “Maybe not, but I’m glad I can be here for you.” Now that the threat of broken fingers has passed, he truly means it. 

5:46 PM. 

You’ve been in the hospital for nearly three hours, and there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will’s casually flipping through a copy of People magazine that’s so outdated, Nick Nolte was just crowned the Sexiest Man Alive. He’s visibly more relaxed now that the medication has eased your pain, chattering teeth a welcome replacement for your anguished moans.

Your concern that Eddie will miss the baby’s birth has hardened into pure fear that something has happened to him. What if he lost focus while driving and got into an accident? The weather was overcast when you’d arrived at Hawkins General; it could have started raining since then and created slippery roads, perfect for hydroplaning. The thought of him hurt while you’re unable to help him has your insides churning, and for the first time, you’re grateful for an empty stomach.

Maybe you should call Wayne and find out if he had heard from his nephew. But if he hadn’t, then both of you would be stuck worrying and answerless; even worse, if he had and didn’t want to relay bad news while you’re in such a vulnerable state–

“I’m here!” 

Relief surges through your veins, Eddie’s panting voice music to your ears. You roll from your side onto your back to see your husband standing by your bedside. Sweat drips down his temples and pools under his arms with the pungency of someone who’d just completed a marathon. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, a jacket haphazardly tossed over his shoulder and your bag clutched in his hand.

He swoops down and places his lips on yours in a series of frantic kisses, his free palm cupping your cheek as though ensuring that the moment is real. He only pulls back when you do, getting a glimpse of your face.

“Where were you?” Not an accusation, but a question threaded with genuine care. 

His nose nudges yours as he sneaks in another peck. “Did you know that Chief Hopper retired?” Your brows furrow in confusion at his non-answer to your question. “Well, he did, and the sheriff’s department decided to throw him a parade. Today. Closed off a bunch of the side streets and backed up traffic on the main ones.” He coughs out a terse laugh. “Glad I quit smoking, or my lungs would’ve given up before I hit a half-mile.”

You mull over his response for a moment before it finally clicks. “Wait…did you run here?”

He tugs at his shirt fabric in an attempt to create a breeze that will cool him down. “It was more like a walk-run combo, but…yeah.” He shrugs, no big deal. “Parked my car in a random lot and just…booked it.” His shoulder gently sag as the adrenaline from his adventure wears away. “I gotta sit.”

It’s then that he notices Will, rising from the chair and placing the gossip rag on the table beside him. “Byers, holy shit,” Eddie looks at him incredulously, “have you been here with her the whole time?”

“He has,” you answer for him, managing a grateful smile in your friend’s direction. “And I can’t thank him enough.” Will returns the gesture and pulls Eddie in for a hug, wishing you both luck before slipping out the door.

Eddie brings his full attention back to you, lacing his fingers with yours. His thumb brushes the side of your hand, bringing small but strong comfort with each gentle touch. “Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry–”

“Eds,” you interrupt before he can continue his apology, “you’re here now.”

“Yeah.” Soft, distracted, overthinking. You can practically see the gears in head spinning, His second child and the second time he’d nearly missed the birth. He clears his throat and shakes away the thought with a toss of his hair, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. “How are you feeling?” He takes in the sight of you, his wife, the most beautiful being his cynical eyes have ever seen. “You look pretty damn good for someone about to have a baby.”

You laugh. “That epidural is a miracle from above.” You’ll gladly take the chattering teeth and the itchiness over the sensation of your pelvis imploding. Eddie doesn’t share in your amusement, still focused on his own shortcomings. “Hey,” you say quietly, pulling him out of his mind with just one word. “Don’t think about the missed message or the traffic. We’re having our baby today.” You bring his hand to the apex of your stomach in the final few hours that it houses the life you two created together.

“I love you.” 

His eyes shine with emotion. He’s here, not only in this moment, but throughout the entire pregnancy. He didn’t bury himself in music or booze or other arbitrary distractions. He’d read What to Expect When You’re Expecting cover to cover, had gone to all of the doctor’s appointments, made sure to keep the kitchen stocked with your cravings and free of your aversions. He’d picked up the household chores (and delegated some to Harris) to ease your workload and wiped your tears when you’d cried while watching two squirrels play in a tree. 

You never asked him to do any of it; you never needed to. 

“I love you, too.”

It all happened so quickly. 

One minute, Eddie’s watching the monitor spike with a contraction, utterly bewildered by the power of pain medication. 

“You really can’t feel that?”

“Just some pressure, but nothing like earlier. I told you; it’s a godsend.”

After hours of strategic breathing, a plethora of ice chips, and a steady outpouring of love between you two, you’re about to tell him that you feel the urge to push. 

And then a nurse rushes in. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” he begins, urgency evident even through his calm exterior, “your baby is experiencing late heart rate deceleration. We need to begin delivery immediately.” He glances at Eddie, then at you. “I’m going to check your dilation to see if we’ll try a vaginal delivery or prepare for a cesarean birth.”

 The blood drains from Eddie’s face as he processes the information, the lighthearted energy completely zapped from the room. “Is…is she…are they…”

The nurse finishes the examination, removing his rubber glove. “Ten centimeters,” he announces. “I’ll page the doctor.”

It’s a whirlwind, with almost no time for panic to set in. The doctor and the other nurses arrive immediately, and when Eddie takes your hand, you can feel him trembling. 

He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be strong for you. Your face says it all: you’re terrified, and you need him to be your rock.

“You’ve got this, Sweetheart,” he whispers fiercely, pushing past the lump in his throat. “You’re the strongest fucking person I know, and I’m so lucky that you’re having my baby.” He kisses your forehead; out of the corner of his eye, he sees the medical staff preparing for delivery. His heart skips a beat, and the realization hits that he’s about to be a father of two.

You’re exhausted, a salty mixture of sweat and tears decorating your face. Gritting your teeth, you push while Eddie coaches you, reminding you to breathe and allowing you to swear at him without even batting an eyelash. It’s mostly a blur, with all of your energy concentrated on getting this baby out, but you vaguely recall telling him that he’s not allowed to even think about touching you again.

“Almost there,” he cheers, flashing an awestruck smile so wide that his cheeks ache. “C’mon, you can do it! Oh, my god, you’re a goddamn superhero.” 

Three giant pushes later, you hear the telltale newborn wail as a nurse coos, “Happy birthday, little man! Here’s your mama!” She gently places your tiny baby on your chest, quickly wiping off the vernix covering his body. 

“He’s here!” you manage through simultaneous laughter and cries. You carefully hold him against you, kissing the wisps of curls on his scalp. “Hi, baby boy!” Turning to Eddie, you blink away the mist coating your eyes. “We have another son,” you choke out.

He just nods, relishing in the wonder of becoming a father again. His pointer finger grazes the baby’s little half-closed fist, only looking away when the nurse asks him if he’d like to cut the umbilical cord. “Y-Yeah. Please,” he awkwardly adds, doing exactly as he’s instructed. 

As the baby is lifted from your torso to be assessed and measured, Eddie kisses you with a passion you’ve never felt before, even from him. You can see that he’s crying, too, and he wipes his cheeks haphazardly.  

“I’m so proud of you,” he says, punctuating the statement with another kiss. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kids.” His nose rubs yours tenderly. 

You smile at him. “Do you want to call Wayne? I won’t be up for visitors until the morning,” you add, “but I just want to let him know that the baby’s here, happy and healthy.”

“In a bit,” he murmurs, watching the nurse carefully swaddle his newborn son in a hospital blanket. “I just wanna hold him first.”

Eddie takes your baby from the nurse, shifting to support his head. “Hey, buddy. I’m your dad.” His body slowly sways as he rocks back and forth. “You gave us quite the scare just now. I see you’re following in your big brother’s mischievous footsteps.” He swears his heart melts when the infant opens his mouth to yawn. “Yeah, you’ve had a busy day. Same here. But it was worth it, huh?”

He wears fatherhood so naturally, so perfectly. You wish you could capture this feeling in a jar and save it forever. For now, you settle for watching him fawn over his newest son, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Eddie murmuring, “and let me tell you: you have the best mommy a kid could ever ask for.”

Morning arrives after a restless sleep. You know the nurses are just following protocol when they examine you every hour, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it. 

But the next knock on the door is one that you welcome willingly. Harris and Wayne stand there, waiting for permission to enter. You smile when you notice Harris shuffling his feet and shaking his hands in an attempt to expel some excess energy. 

“Come on in,” Eddie whispers, beaming, “there’s someone very special we’d like to introduce you to.”

Harris rushes to your bedside, peering at the bundle in your arms. “My baby brother!” he squeals, jumping up and down. 

Eddie puts a finger to his lips. “He’s sleeping, so we have to be quiet, okay?” He ruffles Harris’s hair as the boy nods. “Do you wanna hold him?”

“Yeah! I mean, yeah,” Harris lowers his voice, sitting down on the bed. You scoot over, careful not to move too quickly, and he melds into your side. He’s always been small to you, but compared to his baby brother, he seems so grown up. 

“Okay, hold out your arms like this,” Eddie instructs, demonstrating the correct position, “and you’re gonna make sure to keep his head nice and safe, because he can’t hold it up on his own yet.”

Harris sports a look of concentration as you and Eddie work in tandem to place the baby in his arms. “He’s got the teeniest nose I’ve ever seen.”

Wayne laughs at this, watching his older grandson snuggle his youngest. “Does this little fella have a name yet?”

“Oh, right.” Eddie chuckles. “Gentlemen, this is Hendrix William Munson. ‘Hendrix’ after one of the most talented guitarists to grace this planet, and ‘William’ after an amazing friend and substitute birth partner.”

“Hendrix,” Harris repeats incredulously, never taking his eyes off of his brother. “I’m Harris. I talked to you when you were in Mommy’s tummy, remember?” Hendrix lets out a long exhale, like he’s acknowledging the question. “I know you’re still too little right now, but when you get big, we’re gonna play together all the time. Except when I’m at school.” He looks over at you expectantly. “Can I bring him to school with me? Like for show and tell?”

“Maybe when he’s older,” you say, lacking the bandwidth to point out the logistics of his request. 

Harris wrinkles his nose, but his expression quickly softens. “Yeah, you’re right. He can’t even do any tricks yet.”

It’s quiet for a moment, everyone focused on the two Munson boys. Surprisingly, Wayne is the one who breaks the silence. 

“You two have one beautiful family,” he muses, an arthritic finger grazing Hendrix’s blanket. “Y’should be proud of yourselves.”

Eddie gives his uncle’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Couldn’t have done it without ya, Old Man.”

Wayne knows this, accepting the compliment with a bashful grin but saying nothing further. 

Peacefulness surrounds the five of you, soft conversation seamlessly weaving its way into the calm. You can’t kid yourself; most days will be pure chaos, balancing spit-up and school plays, field trips and feeding schedules. And once Hendrix starts walking—and running—you’ll need all cylinders firing. 

But today, right now, you soak in the serenity. Just you and your boys. Your family. 

--

[moonspirit]

More Papamin!( ̀⌄ ́)Please！

Aahhhhh hello, and I'm sorry, I actually have more papamin drafts saved but didn't have much time to flesh them out T^T

But have this!

Papamin Propaganda #8:

When aruani firstborn daughter is old enough and going to elementary school, she often overhears her classmates talking about the reaction of how their parents felt when they were born.

One boy says, "My dad said when I was born, I looked like a warrior!"

One girl says, "My mom said i looked like a little diamond!"

Another kid says, "My parents said I looked like a baby cow. I was really cute."

They ask her: "What did you look like?"

But she's stumped for an answer. "... I-I don't know..."

Later that week, she finds her mother folding laundry slowly, looking a bit tired.

"Mama."

"Hm?"

"What did I look like?"

Annie lifts her eyebrows, setting down a pile of shirts. "What do you mean?"

Her daughter shifts from foot to foot. "When I came out of here," She reaches out to pat Annie's swollen belly. "What did I look like?"

"Hmm," Annie lightly hums, swishing her lips to a side. "You looked like a potato."

Her daughter is aghast. "A potato?!"

"Yup. A potato," Annie nods matter of factly. "Go ask your father, he's the one who said it first."

Off goes her daughter, marching to the kitchen, anxious and disappointed. On her way she spots a small basket of potatoes in the pantry, all brown and fairly ugly. Not a warrior, not a diamond, not a baby cow but a potato?! What will she tell her friends? They'll laugh!

She finds her father before the stove, chopping vegetables in a casual shirt, sleeves rolled up. It's the off season for her parents, there are no diplomatic meetings for a few months.

"Papa," She says, sidling up next to him, standing on her tip toes to see the array of chopped ingredients on the counter.

"Yes?" He says sweetly, flashing her a smile.

"Is it true that-"

But she's cut off by the pressure cooker letting out a shrill whistle of steam. Armin turns off the stove. A delicious aroma wafts from it. Something a little familiar though she can't put her finger on what.

"What was that?"

His daughter hesitates, biting her lip. "Is it true that... I looked like a potato?"

"A potato?" He repeats with mild intrigue, giving her a brief look.

"When I was born," She says louder, more dejected. "Mama said I looked like a potato."

Now Armin pauses, takes note of her crestfallen face, and throws his head back and starts to laugh.

"Papa!" She whines, heart sinking. So it was true after all. She'd rather not go to school now.

"Oh dear," He chuckles, putting the knife down and crouching down to her height. His hands, smelling of bell peppers and carrots, take hold of her cheeks, squishing them lightly. Disappointed light blue eyes meet amused, bright blue ones.

"You did look like a potato," He confirms, grinning.

"So I was ugly," Her shoulders slump. "Mama said you called me a potato first."

"I did," He chuckles, pinching her nose. "But you know why?"

She stares back dully at his twinkling eyes, not really keen on knowing.

"Because when your mom was pregnant with you, she had a craving for so many different foods," He explains, standing up to pop off the pressure cooker's lid. Thick steam rises from within and the aroma grows stronger. "By the end, all she wanted to eat was one thing though," He raises his eyebrows at her. "Want to take a guess what it was?"

His daughter shrugs.

"Okay," Armin laughs. "Say aaahh-"

She does it out of reflex, "Aaaahhh."

He pops in a chunk of something hot and purple. It melts in her mouth, the sweetness spreading across her tongue.

"Sweet potatoes," He grins. "All she wanted was sweet potatoes. And you looked like the sweetest potato I've ever seen."

She chews slowly, wide eyed and blinking at his highly amused face.

"Annie!" He laughs over his shoulder at approaching footsteps. "You have to tell her the whole story."

Annie steps into the kitchen, looking hungry now. "I... I want some coconut. Do we have any coconut?"

Hm, their daughter thinks, swallowing. Its warm and sweet, travelling down her throat.

Potatoes aren't so bad after all.

[winterrrnight]

japanese whiskey: give me a character out of drew/rafe/zach and a concept and I will make a 9 pic moodboard of it!

childhood enemies to lovers (by now u probably know my absolute love for the hate to love trope haha)

love you lots xxx

rafe cameron x reader — childhood enemies to lovers 🌱🍾🎋⛳🧩🧺

constant bickering. “I hate you.” “hate or love, same thing babe.” kisses with a lot of hidden emotions. small things being competition. small notes of ‘I love you’s all around their shared house. late night drives. always taking their sweet time in the washroom to bother the other. criticizing each other’s movie taste, but finding the movie pretty interesting later. “I missed you.” “I didn’t know I was that irresistible.” knowing each other’s coffee orders by heart. gentle kisses on bare shoulders. thumb wars to determine who gets the last slice of pizza. always stocking the pantry with other’s favorites. “I’ve always cared for you.” <3

I tried my best omg, I don't why I found this kinda hard- but anyways I hope you like this annie! 💗

600 followers celebration!

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

How Romantic | Stiles Stilinski

✦ pairing — Stiles Stilinski x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ *word count — 2.4k

✦ request — Stiles comes home from school for Christmas and surprises the reader? Maybe some supernatural element happened and snowed them in together, can be friends to lovers where Stiles uses that time to confess to her?

✦ warnings — light angst, reader hates the cold, fluff.

✦ author's note — made a tiny adjustment just so this would have some sense, hope that’s okay.

════════════════════════

Your mom didn’t tell you she wouldn’t be home the weekend you arrived. You found out through text when you asked her why she wasn't opening the door. She told you where to find the spare key and assured you she and your sibling would be back on Tuesday. It was Saturday.

There was food in the pantry, but you could go and buy something if you wanted to. It would do you good to explore the town; as much as you complained about the weird happenings, you would die of boredom if you stayed home while your family came back.

If there was something you liked about Beacon Hills, it was the weather. You didn’t fare well in the cold, never had, not even in vacations where the snowy scenery was breathtaking and the beverages soothingly warm.

You unpacked and changed your shoes. Your bedroom had been cleaned recently, the bedsheets were fresh and smelled of the fabric softener your mom had used all your life.

The doorbell rang. You wouldn’t make it through the weekend without having a stroke if you had to entertain one of your neighbors, you just wouldn’t — you didn’t need to be reminded that people found you cruel for leaving your mom and sibling to live with your dad in San Franciso.

Knowing they would call her if you didn’t open the door, you hurried your way down the stairs and took a deep breath. You could come up with something if needed, maybe the excuse of needing to buy groceries.

But you found your favorite person in Beacon Hills as you opened the door, and suddenly whatever it was you had been dreading was dumb and childish and maybe things weren’t so bad around here if it meant getting a big hug from Stiles Stilinski.

“What are you doing here?” you asked against his shoulder.

He laughed, squeezing you. “Your mom said you’d be here.”

That made you part from him. “You called my mom?”

“Needed to know where to go.”

The mere idea of Stiles visiting you at your dad’s made you giggle. Your dad didn’t hate him or anything, but he was the protective type and Stiles had always managed to get himself in the most ridiculous trouble, so your dad was weary.

A harsh gust of wind hit you, making you frown. It wasn’t uncommon for the night to grow colder, but it couldn’t have been that late. “Wanna come in?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Stiles closed the door himself, following you into the living room.

“Man, it’s just as I remember!”

You had to admit your mom took exceptional care of the house. She kept the furniture polished and the surfaces unblemished, just as she managed to keep every ornament around the place pristine; the Christmas ones included.

The tree was small compared to your dad’s, but your stepmom had always been known for going the extra mile. You would have stayed with them for Christmas if you didn’t love your mom and your sibling so much, and if you didn’t have to choose.

“When did you get here?” you asked. “Oh, you want something to drink?”

“This morning.” He welcomed himself into the kitchen and opened the fridge. A laugh escaped him. “Your mom still buys the same orange juice brand.”

“She refuses to change it.”

“Have you tried others?”

“Annie buys it fresh at the farmer’s market.”

He hummed. “It has pulp, though.”

“You can strain it.”

With a shrug, he grabbed a soda. “I, for one, don’t drink juice anymore.”

“Oh, you eat healthy now?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” He cracked the can of soda open as if to make a point. “Juice goes bad before I can finish it.”

“Set a reminder on your phone.”

“Is that what you do?”

“I live with other three people, Stiles, the juice runs out in like two days.”

He hummed. “How’s that working out for you, by the way?”

“It’s okay,” you answered truthfully. “Kinda weird to have another sibling, but… she’s a sweet kid.”

Stiles stared at you as though reading you. It wasn’t your favorite trait of his if you were completely honest, but it came with the package. “I guess I have it easier.”

“Eh. I’m sure I live in the better city.”

He rolled his eyes. You always had this silly fight and always came on top because not much could defeat San Francisco.

“Is it getting cold or am I going crazy?”

“It’s a little colder than when I got here,” he agreed.

You went through the cupboards, looking for tea or coffee. You hated the instant coffee your mom bought out of habit, so you would have to settle for green tea.

Stiles laughed at your raccoon-like behavior. He inhaled deeply. “I was—” His phone started ringing. “Give a second.”

You nodded and turned back to your tea-making task.

“What’s up, dad?” Worry seeped into Stiles’ voice; not uncommon when it came to his dad —or Scott—. “Snowing? Are you drunk?” At that, you turned around and saw him wince. “Sorry. No, no, I’m at— yeah, I’m with her.”

You peeked through the kitchen window and sure enough, the patio was covered in glittering snow.

His eyes widened when he saw the snow falling. “Yeah. Call me if—” Stiles huffed a laugh. “Okay. Be safe.”

The wind picked up, making you shiver. The house had never been this cold before.

“Fuck. What are we going to do?” He gripped his hair, now a little longer and shinier. You supposed he started taking care of it. It would fall off if he continued tugging on it as though the world was ending.

“Stiles.”

“What?”

“It’s fine. The snow will melt eventually, we’re not stranded in the wild.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“It’s okay.” You patted his shoulder. “I can make us something warm to drink. Are you hungry?”

“Not really. Maybe later?”

“Sure.”

You both sat on the couch. Stiles continued sipping on his soda while telling you about one of his dumb classmates.

He seemed distracted, but then again, Stiles always seemed to have a lot in his mind.

“When was the last time it snowed here?”

You should have known he was thinking about that. “The seventies, I think.”

“It just doesn’t make sense.”

You had to agree. Things had stopped making sense in that town long ago. Even your mom, who loved Beacon Hills more than life itself, thought so.

Stiles knew of her borderline obsession with the town, how it ruined her marriage because she couldn’t accept your dad’s desire for a better life, a good career. “Has your mom mentioned anything weird going on?” he insisted. Now full-on detective mode.

“Like magic or…? She hasn’t, to be clear, but you gotta be more specific.”

“Well, it’s more complicated than that. Even if you call it magic, what kind of magic? Is it for nefarious purposes? Are they just pranking the town? Do they have the ability to cause more harm?”

Your eye twitched. “I'm going to bite you if you don't shut up.”

“Maybe I'm into that.”

“How romantic of you,” you grumbled.

You left that place because of all the supernatural bullshit and it still found some way to torment you the few times you visited.

It was a painful reminder of why you only liked small aspects of the town — you were even on the fence when it came to most people. Finding a sense of community was hard in Beacon Hills but your mom insisted otherwise.

"I wish I hadn't come," you admitted out loud. "Why did I listen to mom?"

"Come on, that's unfair. It's just the weather."

"Caused by a fucking curse or something worse! What if someone brought the apocalypse? I haven’t even graduated, and I will die here!"

You supposed he was used to it. His adventures, if you could call them that, had been some kind of fucked up exposure therapy.

There was a reason you never were part of the group, no matter how fond of Stiles you were or how sweet you thought Scott to be — you couldn't come with the things they went through on the daily.

Even hearing about it had been anxiety-inducing. Living it? No, thank you.

"I miss like fifteen minutes ago when I was the one freaking out."

"I miss when things were normal around here.”

"Hey.” He reached over, resting his warm hand on your knee. “I'm here. It's just you and me, okay? Whatever is going on — it can't hurt you. I won't let it."

You would have believed him if the lights didn't flicker for a second.

When the power didn't go out, he smiled at you. "See? Everything's fine."

"That's a stretch."

Stiles tilted his head, observing you. “Do you really hate this place?”

“I—” You pursed your lips and shrugged. “Hate might be too much, but sometimes I wish I could just leave it behind.”

“Ah, it’s not so bad.”

“Says the guy who visits once a year.”

He lifted his hands in surrender.

The cold started to become unbearable in mere jeans and a shirt. You made sure the windows were closed, and as you locked one, you saw just how thick the layer of snow had become.

Not a single inch of the driveway could be seen. “Holy shit.”

There was no way anybody would be able to leave their houses. If they were lucky enough to be home.

Stiles stood behind you, trying to see just what had shocked you so much. “Oh, man.”

“You think… you think this could be fixed?”

“I don't know,” he admitted. “It has to, obviously, but…”

You nodded. It wasn't his fault. “I'll bring some blankets.”

“I'll make you some tea. You're shivering.”

You didn't realize until he told you, but you were in fact shivering.

Finding winter clothes wasn't as easy, and the blankets hadn't even been unpacked from the vacuum-sealed bags your mom kept in the closet.

You were too cold to move properly. The insulation helped with the heat in the summer, but for some reason, it had nothing on the cold.

You dropped some of the blankets through the stairs, scared you would fall if you attempted to carry all of them. Stiles picked them up and quickly laid a couple on the sofa.

“Your tea is ready,” he said softly. That worried tone of his appeared once more. “Come.”

You handed him a pair of sweatpants you snatched from your sibling's room and one of your hoodies. “These should fit if you want to be warmer.”

“Drink that,” he instructed you. “I'll be right back.”

You hugged the mug between your hands, warming up your fingers. The steam hit your face as you brought the mug closer to your mouth, making you aware of how cold the tip of your nose had gotten.

Your first sip didn't do much, but by the third one, you started to feel better. You didn't even know Stiles knew how sweet you liked your tea, but it was perfect.

He was back quickly, sitting beside you and draping one of the thickest blankets over both of your laps.

“Better?”

You hummed, reaching over for the TV remote. “Wanna look for something to watch?”

“Yeah.” He took the remote from you. “Let's see…”

Somehow, you ended up watching a baking contest. As the show continued, you and Stiles got closer looking for more warmth.

He laid on his back. You allowed him to rest his calves on your lap which earned you an incredulous gaze from him.

“Don't be ridiculous,” he told you. “Come here.”

You gave him a wary look. He insisted. You struggled, but you did as he said and laid on top of him, bringing the blanket with you as a cape.

Stiles fixed the blanket on top of you and snuck his hands between the fabric and your sweatshirt. Inhaling deeply, he said, "You smell good."

"I'm trying this perfume out, see if I finally find the one."

"The one perfume, or...?"

"Yeah,” you laughed. “What else?"

"You know, the one."

"Oh, that. Might be too late. Or too soon, who knows? But... doesn't feel plausible right now." You fixed your eyes on the TV where one of the contestants had just burnt caramel. “What an idiot,” you criticized, not truly meaning it. You had never made caramel before in your life, you probably never would attempt to.

Stiles, being Stiles, didn't let you change the subject. "Why not? School?"

"I don't give a shit about school, Stiles. It's nice to have friends and you know, have fun. Things just never work out in the more-than-friends aspect."

"That's great,” he exclaimed in glee.

You lifted your head off his chest. "What?"

"Shit, no, I didn't mean it like that." He fisted your sweatshirt from the back to keep you in place. “I had it all planned, you know? But the snow and its weirdo master or whatever caused this had to ruin it.”

“Ruin what?” you asked softly, afraid you would start assuming nonsense if he didn't explain himself.

“We were supposed to go to Santa's village and ride the Ferris wheel, and I was going to tell you there, maybe bribe the guy so he got us stuck up there for a while… we would look at the town from above and it would have been very romantic, actually.”

“Romantic,” you repeated.

“I really like you," he sighed out. "It's kind of an understatement if I'm being honest.”

So it wouldn't have been nonsense after all. "I... I like you too. Have for a while."

"Yeah?"

You hummed. "I thought it was obvious."

"I thought I was being obvious."

You shook your head. Stiles never gave any indication that he was interested in you, not in that way. He was always nice and considered your opinions, but you chalked that up to being good friends.

"I need to start being obvious, then." His hand came up to the back of your head. "Can I kiss you?"

You kissed him first, resting your hands on his chest. Stiles smiled into the kiss, pushing your face closer to his.

As you both parted for air, he said, "We'll figure it out, right?"

You could only assume he was referring to the distance. "I hope so."

"Let's enjoy these days first," he suggested, for once not being the one to worry. "We should probably make some phone calls, and find out what's going on with the snowstorm." He gave you a quick kiss. "Later, though."

You laughed but agreed. Stiles and you spent the evening sharing lazy kisses and chaste touches, sure you would eventually have enough time to do everything more and the small things in between.

Maybe snowstorms weren't so bad.

Oh, who were you kidding?

[kyojinacts]

Actor AU Headcanons for some of my favorite SNK/AOT characters!

1) Tea with honey is a staple resource on set due to the amount of screaming that the show requires. Eren was, naturally, the one who made the most of that tea during the earlier seasons. However, he was able to temporarily trade off his reputation as a screamer with Zeke, given that his character became more solemn and quiet as time went on. And, well, Zeke's character couldn't be what he was without the screaming.

2) When the iconic members of the 104th training corps met Levi for the first time, they caught him while he was method acting, and were intimidated. Little did they know that, outside of work, Levi has a very warm, kind, and charismatic personality. This catches both actors on set and fans off guard due to the stark contrast it provides against his character's demeanor. He finds it very, very amusing.

3) While we're on the topic of contrast, Hange actually finds titans very unnerving to look at, unlike their character. They typically don't have to encounter many due to most titans being animated via CGI, but there are some (like Sawney and Beane) that were constructed for "authenticity of reaction", much to Hange's chagrin. They maintain a professional front as much as they can. The only one who knows about their discomfort is Levi.

4) Mikasa breaking the floorboard in the scene where she strikes the human trafficker was entirely an accident. According to her, the floorboard had been unnaturally squeaky, but it was the last part of filming for the day, so she and the stage crew agreed to power through it. The poor girl apologized profusely, but Eren argued that it made the scene cooler. It seems as though Isayama agreed as the take was kept, though the audio team had to do some extensive cleaning to wipe out all the gasps and cries of shock that came from the unnatural breakage.

5) Sasha and Ymir are roommates who were both approached by a casting agent while volunteering at a food pantry. Ymir, though intrigued, was almost 100% sure that it was a scam, while Sasha did the research to check and dragged her friend to attend the auditions for shits and giggles. When they got their respective roles, they freaked out. Sasha almost dropped out, out of fear for what her family would think for being reckless, but Ymir urged her to take charge of her life, because opportunities like these don't come by.

6) The plot point of the Attack titan being able to send memories across time distresses Armin due to his belief that there are several timelines/futures that Eren's character could have chosen to follow rather than the one that was settled on. Isayama had to formally ask him to not discuss it during interviews, because the two of them knew that if Armin began his tirade, he won't stop.

6) Grisha and Carla are neither Eren's actual parents (in fact, Grisha is not even a father outside of work) but they both care about him as if he was their own since they saw him grow up on set. Zeke likes to joke that Grisha's method acting is spectacular in that way, since it took Grisha a bit of time to warm up to Zeke due to the latter's later appearance in the show.

7) The boy in the ending credits scene with the dog is Mikasa's little brother. He was always a big fan of his sister, and when presented with the opportunity to be a part of his sister's bigtime project, he took it with both hands eagerly.

8) The first scarf that Eren wraps around Mikasa was the only scarf that they used throughout the show. It has gone through a LOT, and is threadbare in many places. Despite this, Isayama refuses to have it mended. In an interview, Mikasa admits that she had gotten used to wearing the scarf, so during scenes when she wasn't supposed to wear it, she felt very exposed and empty.

9) Annie and Armin have a lot of deleted scenes/bloopers regarding their interactions for when Annie's character was in the crystal. In one scene, Annie is seen to dancing inside her crystal behind Armin as he monologued. In another, they switched places.

10) Connie and Jean are the ones to curse the most frequently after botching a scene. The others keep a tally on how many times. In the end, Connie barely ended up cursing more than Jean by two times. Connie's favorite curse words are "damn" and "shit" while Jean's is any variant of "fuck" like fuck, motherfucker, fucking hell, etc.

[itcanbegoodagain]

how about peeta comforts katniss after a birthday call from her mother or gale

holy shit, i totally forgot i had this in my drafts. i am so sorry!!! enjoy <3

1195 words. mild, mild sexy times. more fade to black than anything.

--

The phone that rests in our study, used more frequently now with the calls to Dr. Aurelius and Peeta's conversations with Annie, chirps out its bright tone. I take one last sip of tea, standing as I do.

Peeta grins at me, saying, "It must be for you."

I roll my eyes at him. "You think?"

"No need to be a smartass," he calls, leaning into my touch as I gently run my hand over his hair as I pass.

"You were first!" I shoot back as I reach the doorway. My pace quickens a bit, fearing the phone will stop ringing before I can pick it up.

When I reach the desk, I lean over and grab the receiver. "Hello?" I ask, sliding around to sit and angling myself to see out the window. Haymitch's geese are flocking around him as he doles out their food, and I bite back a grin as he curses at one for nipping at him.

"Hi Katniss," my mother's voice floats through the receiver, and the smile I was holding back fades away. "How are you?"

"Mom," I start, "Hey. I'm doing well. Just enjoying the day with Peeta. We'll probably have Haymitch over for dinner." I don't tell her that we've just returned from the lake, where we trekked last night to watch the sunrise this morning. We spent the morning in companionable silence; Peeta painted as I swam.

I can hear the soft, sad smile in her voice as she replies, "That sounds wonderful." There's a brief pause, and I know I'm not going to be the one who breaks it. I gnaw on my thumb nail. "I wanted to - well, say happy birthday, honey. It's not everyday your daughter turns twenty-five."

A small pang hits my chest, but not as severely as it might have in the past. Her daughter. Not the eldest of the two, but only one. "Yeah," I manage. "Who'd have thought I'd make it here?"

Ouch. I wince as it comes out, knowing that it's better for me not to say or think those things. "Mom, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she says softly. "You've been through more than anyone should at your age. I'm glad to hear you're healing."

A lump forms in my throat, and it takes me a moment to speak around it. "Me too."

"I'm proud of you," she continues. "For finding a life for yourself and surrounding it with people who love you. Who you love. Prim would be... she would be beyond happy for you. Proud, too. So would your father."

The last sentence comes out so quietly that I almost miss it. Now, I'm truly in danger of crying, so I don't say anything.

"Katniss?" my mom asks. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah," I get out. "Yes." My chest feels like it's going to implode. They should both be here -- all three of them should be here with me. Instead, it's me, Peeta, and Haymitch, this little family I've carved out for myself.

"You don't have to say anything to that, okay? I just wanted you to hear it." She pauses again. "I don't want to keep you too long, but I wanted to call and say happy birthday, and that I love you. Enjoy your day."

"I will," I whisper. "Thank you. I love you too."

"Tell Peeta and Haymitch I say hello."

"I will," I say again, but the line has already clicked dead.

My hand shakes as I return the phone to its place, and I let my eyes fall shut. I take a deep breath in, hold it, then release it. I repeat this a couple more times, and slowly, my composure begins to return.

When tears no longer threaten to make an appearance, I return to the living room. Peeta isn't here anymore, so I grab my thick strand of yarn, fiddling with it as I walk to the slight sounds coming from the kitchen. Peeta is pulling things from the pantry, beginning lunch preparations.

"My mother called," I say quietly. "She says hello."

He stops, setting down what he's holding. Then he takes a few slow steps over and wraps his arms around my waist, stooping just a bit to do so. He holds me so tight, so fiercely, and lifts me off my feet as he straightens back up.

The steadiness of his heartbeat against my own is reassuring. I can feel the tension seeping out of my bones.

My arms are wound tight around his neck, my face buried within them, so it's hard to hear myself when I tell him that I'm okay.

He presses a kiss to the closest part of me he can reach, which happens to be my shoulder, and whispers, "I know."

We stay like that for a minute or two, then Peeta puts me down. He rests his hand on the side of my face, and his thumb runs one swipe along my cheekbone before he returns to lunch preparations.

"Would you like to make the salad or ready the rabbit?"

"The salad," I reply. This will keep my hands busy. I wash them as Peeta measures out the ingredients for my favorite: cheese buns.

We fall into the comfortable routine of making a meal together, and this, too, helps calm me. This is familiar.

"My mother talked about Prim and my father. Said they'd be proud of me," I tell the carrot I'm chopping.

"They would be," Peeta replies. "Absolutely."

"I hope so," I murmur. I don't like admitting it, but these days, I sometimes am proud, too. Life threw everything horrible at me it could, and then some, and here I am, alive, still able to make a peaceful meal with my husband.

A rush of gratitude for what I have hits me, and I pull Peeta into another hug. "Thank you for being here with me. My life is best with you in it."

"You are my life," he whispers. "And everything good about it."

I pull back to look at him, and the love radiating from his eyes is obvious. I kiss him, watching as those beautiful eyes fall shut just before mine do. It's a good thing neither of us had started on the stovetop, seeing as lunch preparations are forgotten for the time being.

He takes me to the couch, touching and whispering love onto every part of my body. It's slow, and gentle, and reminds me that I'm alive. Reminds me that I have a life to live that's no longer clouded with fear and danger. That I can cook with my husband and have sex on our couch and enjoy every moment of it without guilt.

"I love you. I'm grateful for you," I tell him, moving my hips slowly against his. Kiss his mouth, then repeat my love into it until words no longer form on my tongue.

Later, as we are pulling our clothes back on, we get another call. This time, it's Haymitch.

"Are we still doing dinner tonight?" He asks without greeting.

I smile. "Yes, be here at six."

"Alright. Happy birthday, sweetheart."

[the-last-thread-of-my-sanity]

I bet in the path that led me to you, Armin had already mentally planned his and Annie’s wedding, what size house and what pets to get her before they’re sudden break up😢😭 poor boy must be heartbroken

He was definitely blind-sided. Poor guy.

I don’t know that he planned a wedding in his head down to the details, because I think he couldn’t imagine that for himself without knowing what she thought about certain things or what she wanted since she’s so private. He’d be happy to elope or sign a paper in a courthouse, anything just to make her happy and comfortable. That being said, I think he imagined being married to her quite a bit.

And as far as having a home with her, I think he imagined more domestic things. He would observe the things she liked to eat or her favorite snacks and imagine going grocery shopping with her. Like he probably thought to himself multiple times that he could never let their pantry run low on sweets in case she was feeling low. He probably thought about her plant press and her interests and imagined planting an herb garden in the front yard. And PETS? He would absolutely get her all the kittens her heart desired, even if he was aware it was slowly getting out of control. He imagines them cuddling their cats while they read or draw in bed.

What Armin daydreamed about really was the chance to live a ‘normal’ life with her- because when their relationship was a secret it ended up being a small escape mentally for them from the things that awaited them in life. But you can’t live in two realities forever, one of them has to win out eventually, in the case of this story :(

But things get slightly better between them in the most recent chapter!

[virgin-martyr]

Fragile and vapourish women, spirits with gentle hands, good fairies of the home who silently create beauty and order, mute, submissive women search as I may, I cannot find many of them in the landscape of my childhood. Not even in the next-best model, less elegant, more frumpy, the ones who work miracles with leftovers, scrub the sink until you can see your face in it, and take up their posts outside the school gates fifteen minutes before the last bell rings, all their housework done. Perfectly organised unto death. The women in my life all had loud voices, untidy bodies that were too fat or too flat, sandpapery fingers, faces without a trace of make-up or else slathered in it, with big blotches of colour on the cheeks and lips. Their cooking skills did not go much beyond stewed rabbit and rice pudding, they had no idea dust was supposed to be removed on a daily basis, they worked or had worked on farms, in factories, in small businesses open all day long. There were the old ladies we visited on Sunday afternoons, with their boudoirs and the bottle of eau-de-vie to sweeten their coffee, wizened women all in black whose skirts smelled of butter going rancid in the pantry. No connection with those sugary grandmas in story books who wear their snow-white hair in a neat bun and coo over their grandchildren while they read them fairy tales.

Annie Ernaux, excerpt from A Frozen Woman trans. by Linda Coverdale

[idiotwithanipad]

Hot Take: I feel like Mary was midly protective of Robin in some situations

Back in the days of the golden foursome (Robin, Humphrey, Mary and Annie they were clearly a tiny group who knew almost everything about each other (apart from Robin; his past was a mystery to the rest). After Kitty came along and Annie got sucked off, Mary probably felt alone, she most likely couldn't find comfort in Kitty as Kitty was mostly likely very upset as well. I can't really see Mary going to Humphrey for help cause he was probably lost and because he was a nobleman and felt midly uneasy around him for that reason.

So the most solace she'd receive would be from Robin. She probably attached to him more after Annie's sucking off, and their bond most likely deepened when picking a star for her. After a few years of connecting with him more, she most likely saw him as a human being and not a creature.

If a storm passed by, she'd huddle with him in the pantry. If he ever saw that scene in 'The Revenant' she'd hold his hand. If he missed his tribe, she'd let him cry on her shoulder.

When anybody in the current crew calls him an 'ape', she has to bite her tongue and resist the urge to allow the smoke to rise👀I feel like she'd FLIP out if anyone were to get physical with Robin...fisticuffs, biting, kicking, slapping, slander etc... After all, compared to Mary, Robin is barely an adult. He's only 23, Mary died in her late 30's to early 40's, so if anyone were to get into a heated confrontation with him she'd probably have to have a word with the offender.

"He be's just a BOY!"

[online-pet-shop-singapore]

Can dogs eat dehydrated rabbit?

Yes, dogs can eat dehydrated rabbit as part of their diet. Dehydrated rabbit is often used in commercial dog foods and treats, providing a lean source of protein and essential nutrients. However, it's crucial to ensure that the dehydrated rabbit is sourced from reputable sources and does not contain any additives or seasonings that could be harmful to dogs. As with any new food, it's best to introduce it gradually and monitor your dog for any signs of allergies or digestive upset. Always consult with your veterinarian before making significant changes to your dog's diet.

[agirlwithbigdreamsforher]

LATE NIGHT CRAVINGS

THE NANNY: ONE SHOT

LATE NIGHT CRAVINGS

Pairing: Andy Barber x Annie Johnson (OFC)

Summary: Annie and her baby are very hungry.

Warnings: Language.

A/N: none.

Word count: 1728

Disclaimer: I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, used, translated nor reposted anywhere else but here on this blog. Do not steal what you didn’t work for. Minors and ageless blank blogs don’t interact with me or my works. Reblogs and likes are always welcome. Thank you for reading this work of fiction.

GIFS not mine, you can find the credits in each gif :)

                                     ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Right after the first horrible trimester, where Annie couldn’t hold anything in her stomach. She was now pretty much eating properly. That was until the cravings began. Andy had found her eating the weirdest combinations, pepperoni pizza with Nutella spread on top of it, fried chicken with strawberry jam, Doritos with nacho cheese and jalapeños, this one wasn’t gross, Andy tried it and actually liked it.

Until one day Andy saw her opening a jar of pickles. Her wife was sitting in one of the stools by the counter, taking a very juicy pickle out of the jar.

“What are you doing?”

“Eating, duh!”

“You hate pickles, you say they’re gross.”

“Shhh, your baby wants pickles!” She took a bite and moaned, “Why is this good?”

“They’ve always been good.”

“No, they haven’t.” She bit it again, “Something is missing.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know what, but something is missing.”

One day after work Andy found her making a sandwich. And it was by far the worst combination she had come up with. The sandwich had ham, mayo, peanut butter and pickles, and soon that sandwich was made by Annie at least once a week, and she enjoyed it every time.

It was another Wednesday at the Barber’s household, everything was silent. Andy snores filled the room and Annie was very much awake, her tummy grumbling as minutes passed.

She stood up slowly making sure Andy didn’t woke up and made her way downstairs. She opened the fridge and then the pantry to find nothing appealing for her hunger. She was thinking what she could make when the image of a fresh batch of hot steamy Mcnuggets came to her mind. Her mouth watered when she thought about the flavor of them covered in barbecue sauce. But how could she go to McDonalds without Andy noticing? She knew that if she took the car, the sound of the engine going will wake him up. She shrugged, put on her sneakers by the door, grabbed her keys and made her way to McDonalds by walking.

The streets were empty, the fresh air of the night was hitting her face, and she kept walking until she saw the yellow and red sign. She walked to the door only to find it closed, but she could see people inside, so she knocked on the window and waited for a tall curly blond haired teenager opened the door.

“How can I help you?”

“I was hoping I could get food.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, we only serve food on the drive tru at this hour.”

“Oh! Didn’t know that.”

“No problem, have good night.” And then he closed the door.

Annie stood there for a minute until she walked over the drive tru walking happily.

“Hello?” Annie said through the speaker.

“Good evening, how can we help you?”

“Hi! Yes, I want some nuggets and fries.”

“Ma’am, are you the lady who was at the front door?”

“Nop.”

“I’m seeing you through the camera.”

“Then why you ask?”

“Ma’am you don’t have a car, I told you we only…”

“Serve at the drive tru, I am at the drive tru! Listen, I’m pregnant and I have cravings for nuggets and fries, can you please, pleeeeease just give me my order. I have money, I will pay you. Just…”

“Ma’am!” A female voice talked behind her.

“Fuck!” Annie jumped, “Sorry! You scared me.”

“I’m sorry I scared you. Come with me.”

Annie walked behind her and to the front door.

“Come on in.”

“I thought I couldn’t get in.”

“Well, technically, you can’t. But I can’t leave a pregnant woman outside waiting for food, now can I?”

Annie walked in and sat at one of the tables.

“I’ll bring you your order in a moment.”

Annie waited patiently and a couples of minutes later the girl came back with a tray and her food in it.

“Here you have, 20 nuggets, large fries and a coke.”

“How did you know I wanted 20 nuggets?”

“When my mom was pregnant with my sister, she got this every now and then.”

“Smart woman! What’s your name?” Annie took one of the nuggets and dip in the sauce.

“Eva.” Annie moaned when she bit her nugget, “The other guy is Malcolm. Sorry about him by the way, he is kind of new.”

“Will you get into trouble for letting me in?”

“I hope not, you are just hungry and don’t seem dangerous.”

Andy turned on the bed to find Annie’s spot empty, he thought maybe she was in the bathroom but the light was off.

“Honey?” no response.

He got up and walked downstairs to see if she was in the kitchen, after all it wouldn’t be the first time he had found her eating at this hour. But again, she wasn’t there. Not in the living room nor the office. He took his phone and dial her number, the phone began to ring upstairs.

“Fuck, Annie!”

He then dial Anthony’s number, he knew Anthony had the night shift on this day, who rapidly answer the call.

“Hey, man! What are you calling me at this hour?”

“Annie is not in the house, are you busy?”

“Not really. Slow night, thankfully.”

“Perfect, you try to find her.”

“Andy I’m sure she is not missing. Did you really check the whole house?”

“No”

“Ok, do that and then you call me, ok?” And then he hang off the phone.

A young guy came into Anthony’s office.

“Hey we had a call from a guy at the McDonalds on Main Street, apparently a pregnant homeless woman is in there eating, think you can get a look?”

“Of course!” He was just leaving the station when Andy called him again.

“She is not in the house! Now, can you help me or not?!” Andy’s voice was loud and angry.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her.” And again he ended the call.

Annie was half way through her nuggets when a knock on the glass door made Annie and Eva turned around.

Eva walked to the door and then Annie saw Anthony walked through the door.

“Annie?”

“Hi!” Annie waved, “Did you come for food too?”

“No, I came because a guy call to say there was a pregnant homeless woman in here.”

The three of them turned to see Malcolm behind the counter.

“What the fuck! Malcolm!” Eva said.

“You let her in and you don’t even know her!”

“She was hungry!”

“Alright! Stop, both of you! Annie, what are you doing here?”

“I was hungry.” She lifted a fry and then put it in her mouth.

“Did you tell Andy you were coming here?” Annie shook her head, “Of course not. Ok, grab your food and I’ll take you home.”

“Can I have a cone before we leave?”

“You,” Anthony pointed to the guy, “give her an ice cream.”

The two of them left the place, not without Annie thanking Eva for letting her get into the place and have her food.

Annie was licking at her ice cream, the rest of the nuggets and fries in a bag, when Anthony spoke.

“Your husband called me twice to tell me you were missing.”

“Ammm, Can I go to your place?”

“Oh no! You get yourself in this mess, he was pretty worried when he called. So you better be prepare.”

When they arrived, they both got out of the car and Anthony rang the bell, a couple of minutes passed before Andy opened the door with a worried/angry look and his hair all over the place.

 “I brought something that belongs to you.” Annie step aside and smiled to Andy.

“Get in, now.” He said through gritted teeth.

Annie walked passed Anthony, “Thank you for the raid.”

“No problem, next time just use an app to buy food this late, ok?”

“God, the app!” Annie said knowing that could’ve been a better option than walked all the way to the place.

“Have a good night.”

“Thanks for bringing her.” He shook Anthony’s hand and closed the door.

Annie walked to the kitchen and sat in one of the stools to enjoy the rest of her meal.

“I really can’t believe you! You went out to have McDonalds on your own!”

“I’m a grown woman I can buy my own food.” She bit the nugget in her hand.

“It’s fucking almost 1! You are pregnant! And I was worried!!!”

“Stop yelling, you’re going to wake Jake up.” She had a sip of her drink, “I was hungry, nothing bad happened, relax.”

“And what if it did? God! Annie you can’t be walking around in the middle of the night just because you are hungry…”

Andy kept rambling as she ate, she knew he was angry the moment he called her by her name and not honey or baby. Andy was passing in front of her still talking about how dangerous and irresponsible it was for her to be out at this hour. Annie sighed and lifted her shirt up showing her very rounded and fuller boobs to Andy, who just stop his ranting.

“That’s not fair!”

“Why not?”

“We can be having an argument and then flash me, is not fair game and you know it!”

“You were having an argument, I was eating peacefully.”

“How did they get prettier?” Andy asked curiously as Annie just shrugged.

“Are you still mad?”

“YES!” Annie jiggled her boobs, “NO! ...YES! ...fuck! you are not playing fair!”

“I’m not playing at all.”

They stayed in silence. Andy’s hands on his narrow hips as Annie took the last bite of her nuggets.

“Are you done?” Annie nodded “Good! Now go to bed and when I get there I want you naked.”

“Thought you were angry.” Annie lifted an eyebrow.

“I am angry! And I’m going to give you a lesson!”

“No, you won’t.” Annie jumped off the stool and yawned.  

“What?”

“I’m tired, I walked all the way to McDonalds. My feet hurt, and I’m sleepy… we are sleepy.” She said rubbing her bump. “So, I’m going to bed, can you throw all that,” She pointed to her trash, “for me?” Andy just stared at her. “Thanks, you are the best.”

Annie walked out of the kitchen and to the stairs.

“God, please just gimme patience.” Andy said looking up. “And you better calm down.” He said now looking down at his pants, “Cuz we both now we are not getting any tonight.”

[here-lie-the-sinners-au]

D - RadioApple

A - FizzModeus

E - Stolitz

8 - HuskerDust

11 - StaticMoth

6 - Cherrisnake

HEHEHE MORE QUESTIONS!

Okay so...

D:

After Alastor took Beau and Emmeline to his mother's grave (soz spoilers for the sequel), he wanted to try and show his demon children a bit of the life he once had even if it was a long time ago. He teaches them his mother's old recipes and while he banned Lucifer from the hotel pantry after the whole "pancakes nearly burning everything down" fiasco, Lucifer is allowed to be present (lol). He also tells Lucifer about the Mardi Gras parades in New Orleans and Lucifer is more than excited to get the kids, and the rest of the hotel gang involved.

A:

Opie reminds Ozzie so much of Fizz, from her sweet, artistic nature and the fact Fizz will dress her up in her froggie onesie all the time. She also does a lot of trapeze and acrobatics. A real chip of the old block.

But Fizz sees a lot of Ozzie in her, not because as she grows up she resembles more of a chicken or the glowing eyes, but because she is so unbelievably kind.

E:

Stolas and Blitzo do try and be as honest as they can eith the triplets but there are some things - Stella, Striker, assassinations on Stolas, the Goetias in general - they try to shield the triplets from. It's not easy, while they don't get as much as discrimination as Opie, the triplets are often disregarded by the Goetias. Imps? Not so much.

They do know what Blitzø does for a living but both Stolas and Blitz won't let them have a gun until they're older.

8.

Husk knows which twin doesn't like crusts. It's Penelope. He found it funny that he knows how the twins work slightly better than Angel since Angel is a twin. Aunt Molly also jokes about this when she comes to visit.

Angel knows that Annie-Rou began to eat crusts after Aunt Charlie told her they make your hair curly. Jack doesn't like them that much but pretends he does so his big sister can have them off his plate.

11.

Vox, definitely. Val is a very attentive parent and knows all the tricks to get the twins to eat.

Vince did try use his hypnosis on Vox but hypnosis doesn't work on him. Vince is a picky eater in general so Val reassures Vox he's doing a good job. Vivi is a pretty good eater so it's not too hard to get her to eat although she does eat better for Val.

6.

Bash, for some reasons, loves Coraline. He frequently makes Cherri and Pen watch it, and Pen knows every single word. He read the book to Cherri's bump while she was pregnant with Bash - maybe the reason he likes the movie...

[moonspirit]

Hello Moon,

Something you mentioned yesterday that I want to expand on: Dad Armin is a massive shutterbug; he gets his hand on a camera and becomes obsessed with capturing every moment in his family lives,

Some of the Armin and Annie's favorite photos are

Pictures where Annie is doing her exercise routine with the baby in a baby carrier slung to her chest (Mommy-Baby exercise time, he calls it)

Armin is sitting next to his child’s crib, reading a book about the ocean (taken by Annie)

The baby wearing a small cravat sitting in Granpa Levi’s lap, the baby with a big smile, and Levi with his usual stoneface (Armin swears he can see a slight smirk at the corner of his mouth)

Connie making funny faces while the baby laughs historically (Connie has a new face for them every week, and it always gets a laugh)

A disgusted Jean passes the baby off to Armin as stream of baby vomit runs down his new shirt (again, Annie took this one; she refuses to get rid of it, much to Jean’s chagrin)

A confused Reiner, holding a very grouchy-looking baby. The baby has their arms crossed and gives a face very similar to their mother's. (Annie had never been more proud of her child)

Pieck is wrapped in a massive blanket cocoon with the baby sleeping peacefully on top of her (Works every time she says)

Finally, a massive photo of the whole family clustered around the baby during the child’s first birthday, with the now one-year-old baby in the center(cake smeared on its adorable little face)

Of course, there would be entire volumes of photo albums, but these are particular favorites of Armin and Annie.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THESE ARE SOOOO SOOOOOOOO SOOOOOOOOOOOOO CUTE!!!!!

I love these shots so much oh GOD they're ADORABLE T///////T Allow me to add a few more:

A candid shot of Armin and Annie standing on the beach as the tides sweep in, his trousers and her skirt hitched up, holding their child as water sprays over them, windblown and laughing away.

A secret shot of Annie and the baby (slightly older) pilfering the pantry or refrigerator in the middle of the night.

An adorable shot of Armin in his suit grinning proudly with butterfly clips and tiny braids done all over his hair, courtesy of his daughter's brilliant hair-dressing talent.

A sweet and soft shot of Annie and the baby sleeping as the late afternoon sunlight washes over them, their pet kitty or doggy also curled up next to them.

The Ambassadors on an overseas trip ft. Aruani child! So many proud uncles vying to hold the little girl's hand and take her on a small jaunt around the new city T/////T

Pieck and the child in the middle of nefarious and illegal activities - a super candid secretive shot of the two absolutely up to no good :3

Falco and Gabi being the SUPER PROUD niece and nephew and giggling over no longer being the youngest in the bunch.

A candid shot of Levi watching Aruani baby sleep T^T

Aruani child's very first day at school - a crybaby in her uniform!

[brokenrecordlesbain]

Modern Annie being a godsend on your period

Normally when she comes home you greet her within seconds so after 5 minutes she gets worried.

“….Y/N…?”

When she gets no response from you she starts securing the house. Starting in the kitchen she moves silently through the various rooms before ending up infront of your bedroom door. She takes a breath and opens the door to be greeted to you curled in on yourself clutching a heating pad to your stomach. She takes a breath before moving to sit at the edge of the bed.

“You okay?”

No response. So, she goes into the bathroom again, grabbing the bottle of ibuprofen out of the medicine cabinet and setting it next to you before going back down into the kitchen.

After a couple of minutes of raiding the pantry she grabs your stash of comfort foods and heads back into your shared room knowing as soon as she sits down she won’t be permitted to leave until first light.