#first word

[steveandnatlover76]

Steve: Come on, Antony. Say da-da! Da-da!

Baby Antony doesn’t say one word.

Natasha: Okay, then. Say ma-ma! Ma-ma!

Antony: F*ck!

Natasha: What the…?! YELENA!!!

[one-time-i-dreamt]

My baby sister’s first word was balls and that my mom beat my dad for wearing the American flag instead of clothes.

[fruitcoops]

I miss my sister so very much (she's in college) so your sibling fics are the ones I revisit the most often, you write them so well! I was wondering if you wanted to write something about Sirius and Reg playing when Reg is just a few months old and Sirius witnesses Reg saying his first word? Or maybe taking his first step, whatever you prefer. Only if you want to ofc, thank you!

Happy birthday, Sirius! Character credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Anastasia is mine <3

There was a birthday cake in the kitchen, Sirius presumed. He thought he had seen a big white box earlier that afternoon, the kind from the bakery that stamped their name in swirly gold letters and wrapped silk ribbon around the outside. The bows were always picture-perfect; the cakes were more shimmery decoration than substance. Sirius had never been allowed to try one, of course, but the poorly-hidden disappointment on guests’ faces upon the first bite told him he wasn’t missing much. Briefly, he wondered whether he should be sad about not getting to eat his own birthday cake, regardless of the taste.

Another round of laughter siphoned from the closed door of his father’s study and he wrinkled his nose. Never mind.

“It’s not my interest,” he declared. That was a big, new phrase Anastasia had taught him just that morning. Seven year olds need to know big words, she had advised with a secret smile. It makes you sound as smart as you are. He wondered if his cousins would find it as impressive when they visited tomorrow. Surely he was much smarter than Bellatrix had been when she was seven.

Regulus stared up at him, squishy and wide-eyed and confused, then burst into a peal of laughter that made Sirius’ stomach feel funny. A happy kind of funny, like when the birds on the electric line all took off at once. He scooted forward on the carpet and reached toward Sirius’ face with a hopeful noise, kicking in excitement when Sirius lifted him to sit in his lap.

“Anastasia?” he asked quietly. She looked up and set her book aside, leaning forward to hear better. Sirius loved it when she did that. It meant she was really listening. “May we please watch cartoons?”

“No, not right now.”

“Please?”

“We have to be quiet.” She tapped her index finger to her lips with a wink. “You’re the big surprise for your papa’s friends, birthday boy. We can’t spoil a surprise this soon!”

Sirius frowned. “But it’s my birthday. I want to watch cartoons.”

“I know, but—”

“It’s my birthday.” Something hot and itchy rose at the back of Sirius’ neck and he scowled deeper, tightening his hold around Regulus’ soft middle. It didn’t feel like angry and it didn’t feel like sad but altogether something bad that he shouldn’t have to feel today. “It’s my day, Anastasia.”

Anastasia pressed her lips together with a look to the study door, then sat down across from him on the carpet. “I can see you’re getting frustrated—” Frustrated, that’s what this feeling is. “—but cartoons will be too loud right now. What if we go upstairs with Regulus and play cars?”

Sirius chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. Regulus was getting wiggly already, and he did like playing cars. Sitting downstairs until his parents found the right time for the birthday surprise didn’t sound nearly as fun. “Alright,” he agreed, getting to his feet and looking down. “What do you think?”

Regulus held on to the leg of his scratchy pants for balance and toddled a couple feet before sitting heavily on his backside, then reached up toward Sirius once again.

“I know you can walk further than that,” Sirius sighed. Honestly, it was exasperating. At barely a year old, his little brother was as heavy as a Christmas turkey.

“I can carry him, Sirius,” Anastasia laughed when they reached the first landing.

Sirius shook his head and readjusted to hold Regulus under the arms, letting him hang limp and giggly. “It’s fine,” he panted. “I won’t drop him.”

“I never thought you would.”

Regulus decided enough was enough at the top of the second flight and squirmed, kicking his fleece-clad feet and making unhappy noises until Sirius let him down to wobble along the hallway. “He just started doing that last month,” Sirius informed Anastasia. “He’s fast. Maman says I started walking earlier, but I was slower. I think I’m better at it than he is.”

Anastasia arched a brow, but Sirius could see her smiling. “You’ve had a lot more practice.”

He shrugged. “I guess. Regulus, my room, remember?”

Regulus made a noise and turned, using the bookshelf to balance. Sirius heard Anastasia’s surprised sound and looked up at her curiously. “He understands,” she said. “Interesting.”

“Of course he understands.”

Her eyes flickered down to him. “I—well, I didn’t expect it, is all.”

Sirius frowned. He didn’t like it when people said things like that. “Regulus is very smart.”

“You’re both very intelligent,” Anastasia agreed with a gentle ruffle of his hair. “Alright, go pick your cars and I’ll get the map out.”

--

It had been fifty-three minutes since they came upstairs. They had played cops and robbers, cowboy chase, and city—he had sorted all his cars by color and then by size, and Anastasia taught him the English words for all of the categories. “This is much more fun than a party,” Sirius had declared after a rousing car chase through the plastic zoo animals. Anastasia had looked a little sad, then, but smiled anyway and told him she was glad he thought so.

That didn’t make a lot of sense, if Sirius was being honest. Why would he want to sit in a room of grownups when he could play cars with Anastasia and Regulus? What stupid person would think that was fun? Best to leave the boring stuff to his parents. It was nice of them to entertain the guests so he could go play.

Regulus wasn’t loud most days; he only cried when he was hungry or missed a nap, and otherwise seemed content to stick to his humming or nothing at all. Sirius understood him perfectly fine either way. But he was louder today, pointing to cars when Anastasia named English colors or sizes—small, medium, big, very big—and babbling. They clapped every time. It made Regulus smile, mostly toothless, and that was enough of a reward.

After cars, they watched the snow falling against the sunset, and once it was dark, Anastasia brought them back downstairs for dinner in the kitchen. Sirius suffered through fifteen minutes of being paraded around the guests to be cooed over and get his cheeks pinched by women older than his grandmother before making a quick escape when the conversation turned back to his father.

The moon hung like a silver dollar in the corner of his bedroom window. The three of them sat on the carpet, Regulus in his lap and Anastasia’s arm around him, tucked up cozy under a blanket from last Christmas. “This was a good birthday,” Sirius said, snuggling into her side. Dinner had made him sleepy. Between the two of them, he was sandwiched in warmth; it was too easy to let his eyelids droop.

“Do you feel older? Seven is a big birthday.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yes. It’s my lucky number.”

“Hmm. Mine is…” Sirius thought for a moment while Regulus played with his hands. “Mine is six, I think. I liked being six.”

“I did, too. That was a long time ago for me, though.”

“It was yesterday for me.”

“I know, Sirius,” she laughed.

“Soos.”

Sirius felt Anastasia lean down to Regulus’ level at the same time he did. “Reggie? Was that you?”

Regulus pulled on the cuff of Sirius’ fancy shirt. “Soos,” he repeated, shaking it like a rattle.

“…shirt?”

“I think…I think he’s trying to say your name,” Anastasia said quietly.

Oh. Excitement leapt in his chest and he turned Regulus around. Chubby fists waved before settling on Sirius’ front; Regulus leaned in and bonked their foreheads together with a shrieking giggle. “Soos!”

“Sirius,” he corrected.

“Soos.”

“See—ree—oos.”

“Soos!” Regulus stretched it out into a half dozen syllables and Sirius turned to Anastasia, beaming, before Regulus grabbed his cheeks and brought his attention back. “Soos.”

“Sirius.” He touched his own nose, then pressed on Regulus’. “Regulus.”

“Goose.”

“Close enough.”

“Soos and Goose.” Anastasia shook her head, bright-painted lips in a broad smile, and Sirius saw her eyes go shiny for just a second before she blinked it away. “I’ll have to put that one in the book, hmm?”

“Does it count?”

“As a first word? Of course it does.”

“Well, it’s not quite right,” Sirius pointed out, though he couldn’t tear his attention from Regulus’ careful mapping of his face. He was back to humming, little beeps of sound every few seconds.

“It doesn’t have to be just right. It’s enough that he tried, isn’t it? And we know what he means.”

Sirius considered it. “Is that your present for me?” he asked Regulus. “Saying my name?”

“Soos.”

“It counts.” Sirius adjusted his grip so they were eye-to-eye, close enough for Regulus to grab his ears. “That is my favorite birthday present. Thank you.”

Regulus went for his nose next and Sirius jerked back, startled. “Soos!”

“That is not my interest,” he said firmly.

Anastasia’s bark of laughter was louder than any cartoons would have been.

[askmafiabobvelseb]

[Shaggys being grumpy again/silly]

:0 its Ellie! Perhaps she'll settle his mood :)

OH MY FRIGGING GOSH

[galraluver]

Ok, after I request the sweet one with Zarkon and his child I just had to request one with Lotor. Except, instead of a story in which his child takes their first steps, they say their first word which I'd like to be some variation of the title of father. I think that be a sweet moment for our prince, especially considering he didn't have a decent father of his own.

❤❤💜💜🖤🖤✨

I'd be happy to. It's so sad how he was treated as a child 😭

________________________________________

Zarkon was ashamed of his son from the moment he came into the world, everyone in the galra empire knew it, and ever since their emperor's change of heart due to the quintessence exposure halfbreeds were seen as weaklings. Lotor was pretty much always with his Dayak ever since he'd been born; one day in particular she needed a couple of days off from her duties because she was becoming stressed, so Zarkon gave her three days off, even if it meant he would have to take care of his disappointment of a son on his own. Perhaps if he hadn't been exposed to the quintessence field he would've actually cared about his son, although he was too corrupt to care about the child he helped make. Before his and Haggar's awakening they'd been looking forward to the birth of their first child, unfortunately their memories of the past were long gone. Taking care of a weak infant wasn't what Zarkon wanted to do, but if he left him with anyone else he knew they would probably kill him and Lotor was the only heir to the galra throne.

Up until that point Zarkon hadn't stepped a foot into the nursery, but at the moment he didn't have a choice. From what he remembered Lotor was at the age where he would soon say his first word; not that it mattered, of course, because he would always hate the child he'd sired. Zarkon didn't exactly trust Haggar to watch over their child because she tended to take things apart in gruesome ways and he couldn't let that happen, even though he often wished that she could make Lotor disappear. As soon as the galran emperor stepped through the nursery door he felt incredibly out of place, he belonged out on the battlefield, not in a nursery. Despite being a seasoned warrior Zarkon still feared the wrath of a governess who was in desperate need of some time to herself, not even he would get in the way of an angry Dayak in fear of being hit with her crop.

"Stop looking at me like that." Zarkon told Lotor with a firm tone, feeling unnerved with the way his son was looking right at him.

Lotor, who was only about ten phoebs old at the time, looked up at his father with pure curiosity; he was too young to understand what was going on, but he still recognized his father. Zarkon looked down at his tiny son once he was standing next to the crib, seemingly having a staring contest with the galtean baby. The strangest thing about Lotor was how his skin was lavender and how white his hair was, the doctor said he somehow ended up with the albino gene which was highly unusual for both galra and alteans. There was technically a small nursery built within galra central command, the only reason Zarkon didn't leave Lotor there was because he didn't want anyone to damage his son more than he already was, plus he knew the other galra parents wouldn't want a halfbreed interacting with their kits. Either way, Zarkon was stuck taking care of Lotor until Dayak was done taking a few days off.

"P-." Lotor said after a few minutes, trying to say his first word but only saying the first letter; he just wanted his father to pay attention to him and not just stare blankly at him.

For the first time since he became a father Zarkon found himself intrigued by Lotor; he was a little curious about what his son was trying to say, so he just stood there and waited to see if Lotor would say anything. He never imagined that he would be around when Lotor said his first word, it was honestly strange to spend any time with his son at all. Deep down, Zarkon had forgotten a part of himself that was still there, albeit deep down where he vaguely remembered it. Long ago Zarkon and Honerva had been looking forward to having a baby, with his busy schedule back then they barely had the time to be intimate with each other and when they found out that they were going to be parents they were happy, it was very unfortunate that their happiness didn't last for very long. Zarkon kept looking at Lotor while he kept trying to say his first word, wondering exactly what he was going to say.

"P-p-p-." Lotor sounded out in confusion, wanting to talk but having a slight problem with actually speaking.

"What are you trying to say, young one?" Zarkon questioned, his voice coming out softer than he originally intended; his original plan was to put his son down for a nap, but apparently Lotor wasn't sleepy, he was more interested in saying his first word for the first time.

"P-p-p-pa-pa-pap-papa!" Lotor squeaked out with excitement, finally figuring out how to say his first word; he wanted to call out to his father and did so by repeating a word he'd heard from a child he had seen while out and about with his Dayak.

Zarkon's pupiless eyes widened a little, completely caught off guard by what his son called him; Lotor's first word was papa, something that he wasn't expecting whatsoever. It didn't fill him with emotion or make him want to become a better father, but he did feel a little proud when his only child called out to him. Zarkon made sure that no one was looking before he gently patted his son's head affectionately, rewarding Lotor for saying his first word. Lotor babbled happily before he sleepily laid down and closed his eyes, happy with the slight affectionate contact from his father. Zarkon decided to sit in the comfortable chair near the crib where he could read something on the holopad he left on it, knowing that Dayak would have words with him if he left Lotor alone while he napped.

[despazito]

Adult website and period tracker

[emilnikos]

I need non autistic people to realise meltdowns are a real debilitating thing that has a serious effect on your mental and physical health NOWWWWW!!! The way its been trivialized and lessened pisses me the fuck off. It's not a tantrum and it doesn't come from "being too weak-willed" it's painful and it's embarrassing AND MOST OF ALL IT'S INVOLUNTARY!! Don't claim to be an ally to autistic or disabled people and then make fun of people who have meltdowns. Literally get the hell out of my sight

[thebestestdancers]

why should palestinians have to leave behind their land because israel wont stop killing them. why should anyone have to leave behind their life and memories and sentimental value just because an aggressor is left unchallenged. please think this sentiment through and delete it from your thoughts. instead of blaming an oppressed people for living in a hostile land, ask who is making that land hostile to live in.

[writedowntherabbithole]

7.27.14 - 12:14 P.M.

First Word

You are the current resident ghost clouding up my mind tonight, and let me tell you, it hasn't been real fun thinking of you again.

I remember the day you asked me to play first word with you. For those of you who don't know, first word is a game where you do just that - say the first word that comes to mind when the person you're playing with states their word.

For example, you said, "Nutella." I said, "A gift from a merciful god." You laughed. I laughed. You said it was first word, not first phrase, and I said I'll let you know when I give a damn.

I still don't, by the way, and I wonder if you still wait for a text from me. I hope you don't still. I'm sorry that I left you with a huge ball of knotted up loose ends. You said love and I whispered us into a trainwreck.

I thought I knew what I wanted, I thought it was you, and I know I can't just say, "Sorry," and you'll respond with, "Forgiven," but when I handed you all the little jagged pieces of my heart after just a few weeks, you smiled and said, "I'm not a doctor, but I know how to fix this."

You took a needle and thread, duct tape and super glue to all my sharp edges and softened them all down so I had nothing left to hurt myself with.

And I will never forgive myself for allowing you to cut your own hands and heart up in the process.

[comradekatara]

to me, the funniest thing about “that’s rough buddy” isn’t the fact that sokka says something patently insane with zero context seemingly out of nowhere, or the fact that zuko clearly doesn’t know how to respond. it’s the completely incorrect use of the word “buddy.” zuko would obviously like to be friends with sokka, but sokka is not, in fact, his friend. this is the most time they’ve ever spent together, and it’s because zuko invited himself to tag along on sokka’s suicide mission. at this point in the episode, sokka still hates this guy, perhaps less than he did a week ago, but he still hates him enough that he didn’t bother forcing zuko to stay home, which means he still didn’t really care whether or not zuko lives or dies. which, considering that he had tried to kill zuko multiple times in the past, is not all that surprising. this entire episode is essentially just zuko forcing his friendship onto sokka while sokka is legitimately too depressed to care. so when zuko calls sokka “buddy,” there’s a spirit of dogged optimism characterizing that epithet, because in no possible realm would sokka consider zuko his buddy at this point in the episode. and that’s something we miss when noting the iconicness of this exchange, simply because, by the end of this episode, they are buddies, so in our minds looking back on these lines, the implication of friendship doesn’t feel out of place at all. and really, it isn’t out of place, but only because zuko’s tenacity and determination (in this instance, his determination to befriend sokka) has always hugely outweighed his ability to read the room.

[maxgicalgirl]

Being a “Fun Fact !” kind of autistic is all fun and games until you get halfway through sharing an interesting tidbit and realize that it probably wasn’t appropriate to share in polite company and now you have to deal with the consequences :(

[yesokayiknow]

i know we won't but GOD i hope he never tells her he's an alien i hope we have a whole series of ruby thinking he's just a time travelling human until he gets hurt and is like ohhhhhh ruby love can you check my pulses and she's like check your fucking what now

[oobbbear]

I want to post this here too because I’ve seen it happen a few times

Please understand that there are cultural differences and language differences, if you see this happening let the person clarify what they meant, that person might just not be familiar with words the western side of the internet use

[poeciles]

couples t shirts that say “please ask me about birds” and “please for the love of god don’t ask her about birds”

[dykemd]

she continues to be the moment

[confessionsofatvjunkie]

It FINALLY happened…

Wordle 797 1/6

🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩