pizza mushroom

Callbacks in Storm in the Room

This moment was just so heartwarming and made me so happy to counteract the discourse that took place in the room.

I was laughing with tears in my eyes.

Can you guys reblog with more callbacks?

My plan was to follow your plan // SHAWN MENDES

Overview: Shawn and Y/n are looking after Shawn’s cousin, its really fluffy

Authors note: I actually love pineapple on pizza

“Thank you so much for looking after Sammy for us Y/n,” Shawn’s Aunt Rebecca tells me, handing over a small backpack containing all Sammy’s necessities.

“It’s no problem at all Bec, it’s a pleasure,” I say, smiling down at Sammy who hides behind her mothers leg. “Shawn is just picking up some lunch, he’ll be back in maybe 5 minutes,”

“Its fine, I trust you completely Y/n.” She smiles warmly. “I’m going now Sammy, say bye to mommy,” Bec bends down, hugging her daughter before nudging her towards me.

“Thanks again!” Bec calls, running towards her car, already late for her work meeting.

“So Sammy, What would you like to do?” I ask the small girl, her curly hair hanging down in her face and I tuck it behind her ear so I can see her better.

“Can we play hairdresser?” The 7 year old asks, tugging my hand.

“Sure Sweetie, do you want to do my hair or should I do yours?” 

“Can you braid it like last time?” the last time Bec got me to look after her daughter I had braided her hair.

“Sure. Do we want to put on a movie so you can watch it while I braid?” She nods enthusiastically, running to the cabinet and pulling out her favorite movie, The Lion King.

I put it into the DVD player, pressing play when the menu comes up. I sit on the couch, legs crossed, with Sammy sitting in front of me. I get some hair ties out of her bag and begin the process of french braiding.

“Well what do we have here?” Shawn asks, walking into the room. I was so engrossed in the movie that I didn’t hear the door opening.

“Cousin Shawn!” Sammy exclaims, going to get up and hug him.

“Whoa wait I haven’t finished,” I say laughing slightly. She sits back down, giggling.

“Sorry Y/n,”  I finish the second braid, tying the band.

“There you go,” As soon as the words are out of my mouth she’s running into Shawn’s legs, hugging him.

Shawn grabs her, lifting her up onto his hip.

“You’ve groan so much Sam, I think you’re taller then me now!” Shawn teases and the small girl giggles, hiding her face into his neck.

“I’m not that tall,” She whines, a smile present on her face.

“The pizza’s on the table babe,” Shawn tells me, going to sit down on the couch next to me, Sammy placed on his lap.

“Cool, thanks for picking it up Shawn,” I say, kissing his temple to which Sammy scrunches her face up at.

“Have you had lunch yet Sam?” Shawn asks her, and she nods, her attention quickly back on the TV.

“I need to go get some food myself,” Shawn tells her, sliding her off his lap, this she doesn’t even seem to notice, before following me into the kitchen.

“Did you get Hawaiian?” I ask, opening the pizza box to find a large mushroom pizza.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Y/n, but pineapple on pizza is just wrong,” Shawn laughs at my expression.

“Its not that bad,” I mumble to which Shawn smirks, lifting me up onto the kitchen bench, standing between my legs.

“You’re cutting me off from my food source,” I grumble, my hand falling just short of the pizza.

“What about your Shawn source?” He winks, hands resting on my hips.

“But the pizza, food, do you want me to starve?” I giggle as he playfully glares, passing me a slice.

“Thanks Honey,” I smile as he rolls his eyes. “This tastes so good,” 

“I taste good as well,” Shawn whispers, lips tilted up in the left corner in a smirk.

“Shawn!” I slap his arm, eyes wide, “Child. Just in there.” I point to the lounge room and his loud laugh fills the room. “Crap Sammy,” I shove Shawn out the room and rush into the lounge room to find her on the floor, lying on her stomach, eyes closed.

“What is she doing? There’s a couch right there?” Shawn whispers in my ear, making me jump in fright.

“Do we leave her there or?” I whisper back, imagining how bad it would look if her mum was to walk through the door right this moment.

“Do kids usually fall asleep on the floor?” Shawn asks me.

“Do I look like I know the answer?” I shoot back and he chuckles, his hand finding its way back to my waist.

“What’s your plan?” I ask Shawn, starring confused at the small child in front of us.

“My plan was to follow your plan,” Shawn jokes, squeezing my side.

“Shawn,” I scold him, walking forward and gently picking her off the floor and resting her on the couch.

“Damn,” I hear Shawn mutter.

“What?” I whisper, still concentrating on not waking up Sammy.

“Nothing,” I pull Shawn out of the lounge room and back to the kitchen.

“No, tell me,” I beg, now able to talk in a normal voice again.

“I was just thinking that you know..” He trails off, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks.

“You know what?” I prompt.

“That you would make a damn good mother.”

The Care and Keeping of Your Alien Baby

by: mldrgrl
Rated: PG
Summary: portrait of an alien baby baby mama and alien baby baby daddy

With Scully on maternity leave and Mulder with all the time in the world, the only thing he could think to do was show up at her apartment early in the mornings and leave late into the night.  She didn’t seem to mind…much.  He made excuses for it, called it boredom, but the truth was, since her brief little hospital stint, he was terrified of not being there if something went wrong.

Scully was hellbent on what the pregnancy books he’d been reading called “nesting.”  She cleaned cupboards, or tried to, but her belly always seemed to be in the way and since Mulder kept insisting he was there to help, not to be a nuisance to her, she put him to work.  So, he cleaned cupboards and emptied the little spare room under her scrutiny and supervision, boxing up books and knick knacks to take to goodwill later in the week.  He painted the walls a soft eggshell, questioning why it wasn’t pink or blue or seafoam green or sunshine yellow, but she shook her head and insisted on eggshell.

The crib she ordered came in a box, the instructions with it came in French.  Mulder sat on the floor in the freshly painted, sparsely furnished spare room and metaphorically scratched his head as he studied the drawings of little wooden pieces that didn’t seem to fit where they were supposed to.  

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