this is 9 months old

anonymous asked:

Number 49 - MSR with william

No real plot, sorry. Just some dad!Mulder and fluff. 

“Eew, don’t do that.” 

With a force Mulder didn’t expect his 9 month old son to possess, a pea hits him right in the eye.

“Wheeee!” Will exclaims upon his victory, continuing to throw peas at a crouching Mulder who is trying to clean up the mashed potatoes Will hurled at him two minutes ago.

“Will, this really isn’t funny.” His son, perched like a prince in his high chair, giggles loudly, spit bubbles coming out of his mouth. He scratches his tiny head and smears mashed up peas into his reddish hair. At least the colors match, Mulder thinks.

“You know that means a bath after we’re finished here.” Mulder tells him solemnly; as much as the boy loves water, baths are a definite no-go. Will’s answer is to smash his pudgy arms on the table, splattering peas everywhere. His feet kick at the air and Mulder knows he’s about to throw a real tantrum.

“Come on, buddy,” he picks up his son, who quiets immediately, “You know, if it were me, I’d feed you something tastier than this. It’s your mom who insists on the vegetables. She’s right of course, but you know. I get it.” Will offers his father his tiny hand covered in green and yellow goo.

“No thanks, Will.” So instead Will stuffs his fingers into his own mouth, chewing loudly.

“Now you eat it?” The boy just stares at him, his fingers still in his mouth. “We better clean this up before we try and wash you. Your mom might love green, Will, but I don’t think she wants her floor all covered in it. I hope you didn’t get any on the wall.” Carefully, Mulder puts the baby down on the floor, hoping he’ll stay there a moment.

“She’s going to be so mad at you. Well, no, you’re too cute so she’s gonna be mad at me, Will. I hope you’re happy.” Mulder wipes and scratches at the floor, some of the mess already sticking firmly to it. Then he feels small hands on his head, warm and wet, rubbing at his hair.

“Will, what are you doing?” His son giggles and when a half mashed pea rolls off his head, Mulder knows exactly what his son is doing.  

“Eew, don’t do that!” Will’s hands stop immediately upon hearing his mother’s voice. His hands, still now, remain in Mulder’s hair, though. “I know you’re just trying to make your daddy more beautiful, but I think it’s enough now.” Scully tries to put authority into her voice, but Mulder can tell that what she really wants to do is laugh.

“Eek!” Will not so gently pounds on Mulder’s head, splattering more of the greenish mass everywhere, before his fingers become still again. Mulder quickly takes him into his arms and stands.  

“You’re covered in some kind of goo,” Scully tells him evenly, now unable to suppress her smile, “It suits you.”

“Very funny, Scully. Junior here wasn’t impressed with the peas.”

“He never is. He hates peas.”

“You could have told me that before I tried to make him eat them.”

“You managed to make him eat the sweet potatoes, too, and you know how much he hated those.”

“Because they taste like crap.” Mulder nods at his son, who grins at him in return.

“Mulder, language.”

“Sorry. Junior and I need to take a bath. Get the peas off and just so you know, I’ll never feed him peas again.”

“No, I’m going to bathe him,” Scully holds out her arms and Will reaches for her, “You clean up this mess before it gets dry.”

“But Scully, my hair.”

“Your hair will have to wait.” She kisses Will’s cheek and tries to keep his dirty hands off her sweater. She’s not successful and Mulder bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

“Yeah and what if I can’t get it out? We can always get new floor covering, but this is all the hair I’ve got.” He points to his head.

“How about… I give Will a bath, put him down for his nap and then I’ll help you get the mashed peas off your head and any other place they might have gotten?”

“Is that a promise?”

“If you promise to clean up the floor.”

“Go on, Scully, give Will a bath. I’ve got his covered.”

He can still hear her laugh moments later.

Our host Francis passed away this afternoon. He was 14 years and 9 months old and lived a full, happy life. Over the past 9 years, he was loved by viewers all over the world and we would like to thank you for your kindness and support. Francis was the happiest dog we have ever met and he brought us so many good memories. He was a good friend and will be missed. ホストのフランシスが今日の午後天国へ旅立ちました。14歳と9ヶ月でとても幸せな犬生でした。9年間にわたり世界中の視聴者に愛していただき、皆様の温かいご支援に心からお礼申し上げます。フランシスは今まで出会った中で一番幸せな犬で私たちにたくさんの素晴らしい思い出を残してくれました。彼は良き友達でありもう会うことができないと思うと寂しいです。


Guys I could really use your help right now. My 9 month old nephew Austin is in the hospital right now in North Carolina because he is having seizures(yesterday he had 9 in 10 mins) and we don’t know why. There’s a blood test that checks for genetic disorders that my sisters insurance outright refuses to pay for or even bill her for so she can have answers as to what’s wrong with her son and what they need to do to fix it. I don’t have many followers at all so please can you guys spread this like wild fire. Each day that goes on with no answers is agony.if can’t donate to his go fund me please just spread this. We need as many eyes as possible to see this. tag as many things as possible that people will see. Also if anyone is interested in buying physical items from me message me bc I’ll be selling as much as I can to raise money.

anonymous asked:

No it's not that big an age difference but there IS a difference between maturity & development, mentally, physically & emotionally. That's also technically illegal depending on what state you are in since 18 is legally an adult. Now, it's everyone's own choices. But there are reasons why people say this. I knew a couple like that when I was in HS & it wasn't healthy. I've studied child development & there IS a difference between an 18 year old & a 15 year old. Not picking a fight just saying.

I totally see what you’re saying! But I’d like to say a few things to address your points:

First of all, people seem to think that Beka and Yuri have a 3 year age gap, which isn’t really the case… As of the end of YOI, Yuri is 15 years and 9 months old, and Beka is 18 years and 1 month old. They have a 2 year and 4 months age gap. Yuri is literally 3 months away from being 16… and Beka has just barely turned into an adult? I know maturity isn’t necessarily dependent on age but I think people need to stop treating Beka like he’s a full-fledged adult who is taking advantage of a child because that is absolutely not the case…

Second of all, I really dislike it when people only think of age and consent in U.S. terms? Like, I hope people realize that… the U.S. isn’t the only country that exists in the world… there are other countries who have different ages of adulthood and consent… The age of consent in both Russia and Kazakhstan is 16 years old, so hypothetically, Beka and Yuri could have sex in 3 months if they wanted to. I am NOT saying that I want that or that I agree with that AT ALL. I’m just stating the hard facts here. And I’d also like to point out that the age of adulthood in Japan, where YOI was created and produced, is 20 years old, so we really don’t know whether Kubo views Beka as an adult or not… 

Third of all, while I do understand and agree with your points, I feel like they don’t apply to Ota.yuri. I know we haven’t seen much of Beka in the anime (still super salty about that…), but we have absolutely no reason to doubt his character. He has done nothing but show Yuri and the audience how utterly kind, gentle, supportive, hard-working and determined he is. We literally have no reason to believe that he would harm Yuri in any way possible? So I literally don’t understand how anyone could accuse Ota.yuri of being abusive or toxic???

I hope I didn’t offend you with my words! This is just my opinion and you are absolutely entitled to yours. <3

I don’t think I have ever seen a celebrity asking for privacy through a REP letter to People magazine that allows his 9-month-old to be papped FULL FACE for a random article in the daily mail. 

First Christmas - Christmas Challenge Day 15

Bruce Wayne x Reader

Can I request a oneshot about Damian’s first Christmas, but like he and the other batboys are batmom and Bruce’s biological sons???—anon

So I took this one to mean baby Damian! So I imagined Dick, Jason, and Tim at around 11, 9, and 5 respectively, and Damian at 8-9 months old (since idk when his birthday is). Enjoy batmom and her little birds!

Words: 757

“Come on Jason! Give it back! I had it first!” Dick complains to his younger brother. Jason pulls the remote control farther away from Dick in an attempt to keep it to himself. The miniature Batmobile it controls jerks awkwardly when Dick knocks one of the joysticks while grabbing it.

“But it’s my Christmas present!” Jason yells and jerks the controller closer to his body.

“No it’s not! Yours is a motorcycle!” Dick yells back at him with a yank on the remote. The two continue yelling at each other when you walk into the room with Damian on your hip.

“Hey! Boys! Not in the house. These are outside toys,” you try to get their attention, but they just keep yelling at each other. Feeling a twinge of annoyance, you turn on your ultimate mom voice and face. “Jason Peter! Richard John!” the two stop short at the sound of their full first and middle names and stare at you wide eyed. “Do not make me tell you again. Not. In. The. House.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both say in unison. Jason drops the remote and Dick puts it behind his back sheepishly.

“Thank you,” you say walking over to the couch. “You two have plenty of other toys that you can play with right now.”

“Jay, you wanna battle each other in Pokémon?” Dick suggests.

“Sure,” Jason says with a smile, and the two run off to grab their handheld games as if nothing had even happened. You roll your eyes at your boys and hold Damian up in the air as you land on the couch. The rush causes your baby bird to scream with laughter, and you can’t help but smile at your youngest son. You tickle his sides and he laughs even harder.

A pitter patter of feet distracts you as Tim runs into the living room, still excited with his new toy.

“Mommy look! It’s Superman!” he says while holding up his new action figure.

“I see that, Timmy Bird. Do you like your Christmas present from Alfred?”

“Uh huh,” he says with a smile before running off while flying his action figure.

“I still don’t understand why it had to be Superman,” Bruce says from the doorway. Damian starts to wiggle in your lap so you let him on the floor to crawl to his father. He gets about halfway there before he gets distracted by the bows that were on the wrapped presents.

“He almost got Tim a Superman costume, but I talked him out of it. I knew that would be a real blow to your self-esteem,” you shoot at your husband with a smirk.

“Ha ha,” he fakes a laugh and picks Damian up to toss him in the air, erupting another string of happy squeals from your son. Your heart softens at the sight of Bruce holding Damian in his arms and you get up to stand next to him, placing one hand on Bruce’s shoulder and straightening  Damian’s green and red onesie with the other.

“He has your eyes,” you lean on Bruce’s shoulder.

“Well he has your smile,” Bruce looks at you. “I hope this Christmas was memorable for you, Y/N.”

“Of course it was! It’s Damian’s first Christmas,” you look at your husband. “And I had all of my little birds with me. Plus a stray bat.”

Bruce chuckles. “Speaking of,” he says and passes Damian to you. “I have one more gift for you.” He pulls a small box out of his pocket.

Damian grunts and points to the floor. Taking the hint, you let him down so he can play with his toys. With a raised eyebrow, you take the box from Bruce and open it to find a beautiful silver necklace with four feather charms and a bat shaped diamond one.

“A feather for each bird and a bat to protect them at night,” Bruce says as he leans closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Oh, Bruce,” you can feel your eyes getting misty at how very well thought out and sentimental the necklace is. “I absolutely love it,” you say before kissing him.

“And I love you,” Bruce murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. “And I love our little birds, too.”

Your tender moment is interrupted by Jason yelling from the doorway. “Alfred! Mom and Dad are kissing again!”

“Merry Christmas,” Bruce chuckles at Jason’s disgusted yelling.

“It is a Merry Christmas,” you smile back at your wonderful husband, and think about your perfectly imperfect little family.

This is Gilbert, he’s 9 months old and loves to get into all sorts of shenanigans, like knocking things off bookshelves (that belong to my roommates and are expensive), stealing my food off my plate while I’m eating and apparently tearing all the toilet paper off the roll. He’s an excellent cuddle buddy though.