#Disciple normal bitty

[fantasy-fields-danger-zone]

UnderCult Goner kid Bitty

Name: Disciple

Size: 4 - 6 inches tall(mini), 1 - 1'6 feet tall(fullsize)

Personality: Cryptic, vague, loyal, purposeful, knows what they want, decisive

Au: UnderTale

Likes: those they are attached to, cult leader, calming noises, cool feelings,

Dislikes: those that insult those they are attached to, those that question their authority, those that talk behind their back, those that betray them/their trust

Compatibility: They work best in structured environments with other bitties who either share their views or are at least tolerant of them. They may struggle with extremely energetic or skeptical bitties, preferring those who respect their sense of devotion.

They work best in structured environments with other bitties who either share their views or are at least tolerant of them. They may struggle with extremely energetic or skeptical bitties, preferring those who respect their sense of devotion.

These bitties will often latch on to one specific bitty before joining a cult. This isn't even always a follower bitty. They have a higher chance to join the same cult as the bitty they've latched onto, or not join a cult at all, but these aren't always the case, and may sometimes join separate cults, or cults even if the bitty they've latched onto isn't in one. This means if you adopt or plan to adopt a cult with a Disciple, the Disciple may ask you to get the other cult, but will end up respecting your wish either way.

There is a higher percentage of Disciple not in a cult than any other follower bitty

They can also take a longer time to join a cult then some other follower bitties. They are known to be pretty picky, and the individual won't join a cult they hate, even if the bitty they're attached to join.

This means that if a cult turns worse, they are more likely to leave the cult if the bitty they've become attached to isn't in it, but if a bitty they're attached to is in the cult, they will refuse to leave unless the bitty leaves with them.

They don't express their feelings or thoughts very often, or say it in a vague way. This sometimes causes more problems than if they had said something

Disciple's are usually only attached to 1 to 3 bitites at a time, and before they join a cult they are usually only attached to 1 bitty. It is hard for a Deciple to become attached, but cult leaders usually end up becoming one of the people they are attached to, and they can drop attachments, but very rarely.

If a Disciple is attached to a cult leader, but the cult leader is steering the cult away from why the Disciple originally joined, it will take them longer to leave, but they still will. And this is also the same time they become no longer attached to the cult leader bitty. They might try to take ANY follower bitty they are attached to with them, however.

Disciples, while picky, and known to leave, only do it in extreme cases, and are actually extremely loyal. They can be taught to do a multitude of things inside a cult, and will often mimic those they are attached to scarily well. With enough time, they are known to even form their opinions and beliefs and similar things to those they are attached to

They will avoid those that talk bad about their cult leader and their cult, and might even show annoyance at the people who do. A way to know if they are dissatisfied about their cult, they will seem unsure instead of annoyed or angered when questioned about their beliefs or cult.

Feeding habits: They will eat anything their leader asks them to,

Additional info: Like all Follower bitties, they do best with a leader or god type around, or another bitty they can follow, or they will follow around their caretaker religiously!

unlike other Follower bitties, while they do extremely well with with a leader or god type bitty, they might instead choose a different, more normal bitty to follow around

Zone: Inside,

In Universe: Seen as a strange bitty, and throws even other follower bitties off. Most people who get this bitty as a normal bitty meant to only get another, but they wouldn't leave without them.

Difficulty: Basic

[kcrabb88]

I'll have more to say about Japan when I haven't been up for 26 hours and am waiting on my second (short) flight to finally be home, but I did want to talk about one delightful Celebration thing! I missed the Lucasfilm animation panel to go to a fan panel (and I just sort of didn't want to hear from Filoni and figured I could hear the news later and I'm not totally sad I missed it in person because I didn't want to hear about the Maul show) only to get back to my hotel to hear that Quin seems to be appearing in at least one (and I'm guessing more) of the Ventress episodes of Tales of the Underworld (and, supposedly he has a scene with Obi-Wan that's out of Dark Disciple when they go to Dathomir). But I couldn't get like, clear detail from the internet (or at least the detail that I wanted). While in line for a taxi at the end of the con, I had my Quin and Obi-Wan itty bittys in my hand, and this cool older lady behind us saw Quin, clocked me, and just said "did you see the animation panel?" and I was like "no, I missed it!" and trying to calm myself, added "is it true Quinlan is in the first episode?" and she said yes, and so I added, "and is it true that he has a scene with Obi-Wan?" and she nodded and told me it was a really good scene. She paused a second time, looked at the two plushies in my hand again and said "there was excitement because some people ship them" and me, eager little beaver trying to be normal in my Jedi robes with these plushies in hand said in a slightly strangled voice "Me! I ship them. I love the old Republic comics and Dark Disciple." She smiled and I thanked her for the info.

Like, I know the show will mostly be Ventress with some Quin and Ventress, but getting to see even a little bit of Obes and Quin on screen (and also Quin possibly founding the Path my baby boyyyy I've been wanting that) is so exciting! I'm also super nervous because Filoni, but still. Intrigue! And it felt special to just have that nice lady clearly see what I was about and make sure I had heard the news.

[thewriterowl]

Inspired by recent conversations, my beloved Owl, may I request your headcanons for the first time Vader gives his baby boy a great big burly bear hug and maybe accidentally dislocates something because Luke is smol? ♥️🙏

You can have anything you want!

Oh man...this is adorable, hilarious, and a bit sad.

Luke is tiny. I will never take critiques on this. Luke is smol. He itty-bitty. He is a little ball of fluff with "an itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face" that makes anacondas do want. But I digress...Luke = small, Vader = massive

Vader is also someone who hasn't received or shown physical affection to anyone in twenty+ years. He doesn't really know how to do it. So when Luke is finally ready to actually give and take a hug, Vader may get a bit excited and...squish...with a side of crunch.

Luke, of course, doesn't hold it against his father. He finds it a bit funny. Besides, it was the first time he's been hurt with love...it was far better than being hurt with lightening or blasters or whatnot. But yeah...his shoulder is popped and a rib might be a little busted. But this is Luke and he has no idea how to handle pain normally so is all "welp...this is my life now."

Vader is crushed. He is a monster. He has harmed the most precious being in the whole universe. He has done so terribly wrong.

Luke is really all, "daddy....chill...please. It's really ok? It...uh, it just means we have to practice! That's a positive. right?"

Well, that perks up Vader's puppy ears. Practice hugging? He can hug his son again and again and again? Yes please.

He is a bit weary afterwards, of course. Luke just says to hug him soft and apply pressure and he'll tell him when to stop. That works well and now Vader knows the exact amount of power to put into the hug without harming angel of his life.

It is one of the few things Luke has any power/control/authority over. He finds something pleasant about getting something like this back in his life. So they balance it out where every day Luke gets his maintenance disciple and Vader gets his hug training. it really helps them get closer and it leads to Vader having to open up a bit about why this is so awkward for him and the pain he has bene through. it really tugs at Luke's heart and makes him reach out for him more to just help his father feel better and find Light and good in his life once more.

Of course the downside is now Vader is a master hugger and does it whenever he wants...and will also use his size to his advantage and yoink up his son away from whatever he was doing and takes him off to do a hugging session.

Luke just sulks as he is carried off like a football cause he does not find his height or small form all that amusing.

Vader adores it.

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: the thing with feathers, ch. 3

Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn & Yú Zǐyuān, Jiāng Fēngmián & Yú Zǐyuān

Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Yú Zǐyuān, Yínzhū, Jīnzhū, Lán Jǐngyí, Jiāng Fēngmián, Jiāng Yànlí, Lán Qǐrén, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén

Additional Tags: Transmigration, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars

Summary: The Lans arrive. QiRen's perspective.

Note: You get bitties! And hand holding! And grumpy old man perspective! So enjoy! This chapter draws off a scene in the donghua. Also, I am having a problem with shifting tenses, which is in part because my other fics are in present tense and I’m a dipshit who decided this one should be in past tense. Any mistakes are my fault.

AO3 link

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

---------

Lan QiRen did not like the idea of taking his nephews with him to Lotus Pier, not if there had been an attack of resentful energy. But the fact that Jiang FengMian’s adopted son was calling for one of them in the throes of fever after the attack…

He had no idea how the boy could know WangJi, especially enough to call for him by his birth name. QiRen recalled the boy was CangSe SanRen’s son, named Wei Ying. The cultivation world had gossiped idly that his father must be Jiang FengMian for him to take the boy in, but such idle talk was more than likely ridiculous.

QiRen did not have the fondest memories of CangSe SanRen, but he would not leave a young child to suffer over a grudge against a dead woman—such grudges were forbidden, regardless. And truly his heart went out to a child who was orphaned so young. The decision to send help was immediate; his decision to join the retinue was carefully considered. 

Ultimately, after passing duties to appropriate elders, he brought a contingent from Cloud Recesses that included his nephews, the head healer, and several accomplished musicians familiar with both songs of cleansing and those of healing. 

While flying with children was usually something he would not consider, the message from Yunmeng Jiang had come on their swiftest flyer, and he had clearly exhausted his spiritual energy to speed the trip. This combined with the contents of the message made it clear time was of the essence. 

QiRen himself was the most experienced flyer and thus insisted WangJi ride with him. Though XiChen had started to ride ShuoYue, Yunmeng was too far for the boy; he had the head healer, Lan ShiRong, carry him. 

GusuLan was among the closest sects to YunmengJiang, and so the flight was relatively short. Of course, relatively short for a child was not so, but neither boy complained and QiRen praised both for their discipline during the flight. Dusk had already fallen, night quickly on its way. 

They were immediately escorted by several disciples, one of whom broke off to fetch Sect Leader Jiang. The youths looked shaken and unsteady, but still performed their duties with efficiency. Jiang FengMian and Yu ZiYuan had clearly trained them well. 

FengMian met them at the main hall, greeting them with as much decorum as possible.

“Master QiRen, thank you for coming. I apologize for the lack of a proper greeting. In other circumstances, tea and conversation would be appropriate.”

QiRen waved the concern off. “The healers should see to the boy immediately. Please, lead us.”

He hadn’t seemed to notice the children, QiRen noted, and he could only assume the boy’s condition was not good for FengMian to overlook such a detail. Normally he would prefer to keep his nephews away from this sort of situation, but if this Wei Ying was calling for WangJi, it was best to determine how he knew of him sooner rather than later.

FengMian quickly led them to the infirmary, explaining along the way, “Healer Kang is trying to bring the fever down. He believes a-Ying’s body is fighting the resentful energy, but we have no way of knowing.”

He was leading them at a speed just short of a jog, and his voice betrayed his worry.

“‘Cleansing’ May help,” QiRen mused. “But Healer Lan will want to examine him as well—the damage that can be done by resentful energy cannot be taken lightly.”

Upon entering the healing pavilion, QiRen had to pause for a moment. The boy lay prone on the examining table, clad only in a light shift with cooling talismans affixed. Ugly scars marred his legs.

Even at his young age he looked so much like CangSe SanRen, it was almost painful to look at him. She had been a prankster, had shaved his beard while he slept, but she had been so full of joy and life and it had been a blow to learn the world had lost such a light.

A low moan from the boy had Healer Lan moving around him, hurrying to the patient, immediately starting to tap his hands across Wei Ying’s meridians in the practiced movement of one used to examining and healing qi. The child seemed nearly delirious, whimpering unintelligible murmurs, limbs twitching, tears streaking his face.

“The children were… upset with his condition. ZiYuan is keeping them away from the infirmary.”

QiRen turned to FengMian. “Your missive said he was calling a name.”

FengMian nodded to the Jiang healer, who gently removed a needle from the boy’s forehead. Almost immediately, he cried out, writhing and reaching out, and QiRen realized they’d had him sedated. Dangerous for one so young, but if he had been like this for hours...

“Lan Zhan. Please don’t leave me, Lan Zhan.”

The words were broken by sobs.

WangJi stepped forward, a strange look on his face. He seemed almost drawn to the boy, but QiRen was shocked when his nephew took Wei Ying’s hand. He could hear FengMian take a surprised breath, as though he had just realized who ‘Lan Zhan’ was.

“I am here.”

His nephew, who eschewed touch and rarely spoke, was doing both now.

The child’s eyelids fluttered, his face turning toward his voice, though his eyes never fully opened.

“Lan Zhan,” came out in a relieved whisper. “Don’t go.”

“I will not.”

There was a soft exhale, and the boy went still, his breath deepening.

The Jiang healer looked relieved at the change. QiRen could only guess this meant Wei Ying had likely struggled and cried out like that most of the time since the attack when not sedated.

“You recognize him,” XiChen said, the first he had spoken in hours, and QiRen noted it wasn’t a question. 

“Yiling,” WangJi’s answered simply.

“Is he the one you gave the rattle drum to, a-Zhan?”

WangJi nodded. 

QiRen remembered his nephew going missing for the span of about half an hour, and finding him without the toy, but he hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, too relieved to have found him. Clearly he had told his brother more. Somehow in that short time he had found Wei Ying and never spoken of it to him. If he had, QiRen could have acted.

“That was three years ago, WangJi,” QiRen murmured.

“Three years?” Fengmian looked pale. “I only found him just over a year ago. He was on the streets so long…”

No one really knew exactly when CangSe SanRen and her husband had died. Neither their bodies nor their weapons had been found, and though everyone knew they must have died it was only due to their disappearance.

QiRen knew FengMian had searched for a year before finding the boy, but knowing he had been subject to homelessness for at least twice as long was horrifying.

“WangJi is sorry. WangJi should have told shufu. Shufu would have helped.”

His nephew’s tone was more emotional than it had been since his mother’s death, his hand still holding Wei Ying’s. QiRen felt frozen, inept, unable to comfort the boy now just as he had failed then. 

FengMian stepped forward, kneeling to come level to WangJi and place a hand on his shoulder.

“You would have if you had known he needed help, right?” he asked, his voice gentle.

WangJi nodded.

“Then you did all you knew to do. A-Ying won’t blame you for that. Your gift probably brought him joy.” FengMian offered a small smile. “We cannot change the past, young master. We can only strive to improve ourselves in the future.”

WangJi’s gaze moved to the scars on Wei Ying’s legs.

“He was hurt.”

“By dogs,” FengMian says softly. “Not by you.”

QiRen repressed the urge to wince. So many scars from dogs, living on the streets. The boy’s survival was a miracle.

WangJi only frowned, and QiRen was relieved when his brother stepped forward, smiling gently.

“A-Zhan, you can be a-Ying’s friend now and help him get better. He was calling for you, and you helped him already.”

That seemed to do the trick, mollifying WangJi, and his expression turned resolute. Of course XiChen would know—giving WangJi a task to complete would help him.

“Sect Leader Jiang?” Healer Lan interrupted. He was standing at the head of the examination table, his hands on Wei Ying’s temples. “The resentful energy seems to have… for lack of a better word, gathered in his head.”

FengMian stood, alarm apparent on his face, and QiRen couldn’t find fault in that; maladies of the mind were hard to treat, the complexities of the brain too little understood even in the cultivation world.

“We should start ‘Cleansing’ as soon as possible,” the healer continued, “to remove as much as possible, but also play songs of healing as well. The resentful energy is too thick to see what damage may have been done. The fever is his body trying to fight the invasion.”

QiRen nodded to the musicians to get started, then turned to his nephews. “We should have a repast and rest. It is nearly hai, and the journey has been long.”

To his surprise, WangJi shook his head, shifting closer to the examination table and Wei Ying.

“Promised. Won’t go.”

Stubborn. Why did the boy have to be so obstinate? QiRen could only be reminded of the habit only just broken—of WangJi kneeling in front of his late mother’s seclusion house every month, refusing to accept her death.

Truth be told, Qiren wasn’t certain it was wise to let WangJi get attached to Wei Ying, with his condition so uncertain. He mourned so deeply. But he knew it was too late the moment his nephew stepped forward to take the boy’s hand.

The Jiang healer stepped forward placatingly. “We have beds in the next room. If the young master wishes to sleep here, it could be arranged. A light meal can be sent for him.”

“Only your nephew has been able to calm a-Ying,” FengMian added. “His presence may comfort him if he wakes, or if the fever worsens.”

QiRen took a breath, finding his center and exhaling slowly. He could not make a liar of his nephew.

“For tonight. WangJi, you must abide the healers, and stay out of their way.”

He waited only for a nod of acknowledgement, then beckoned XiChen to the door.

[criscura]

Here we are. This is it.

I don’t like talking that much about...y’know, stuff like this before, but I think it’s worth it for this guy. After three years, almost 500,000 words, and stacks and stacks and stacks of paper, we’re at the end of Tumbling Down.

I’ve learned an incredible amount writing it. I’ve grown as a person and a writer. So much of me and my loved ones and everyone I talk to has gone into making this, and I can’t really explain how much it’s done for me.

Thank you so, so, so, so, SO MUCH to all the artists, writers, fans, and readers that stuck with me. Thank you so much.

.........Okay that’s all ////// I get flustered with stuff like that....

A shout-out to @oil-tears and this incredible prompt, which started this entire fucking thing and got me writing again. And a shout-out to the whole fandom, too.

If you do not listen to “Book of Love” as you’re reading this, or at LEAST right after you finish it, I will be very sad because I’ve lost count of how many times I bust out ugly crying thinking about this fic and that song.

Here’s the last chapter, and the whole thing on AO3. ((You might want to read the first chapter too. Just...a suggestion))

....Thank you so much guys <3<3<3<3<3<3

Pillow Talk

    Takeout, again. It was killing Saitama to order out this much, but there weren’t any stores running good sales and all they had left in the fridge were odds and ends. They probably should’ve gone out to get fresh stuff, but…man, Saitama had been starving and that would’ve taken a couple hours.

    “Sensei, Good BuyZ is running a ‘Summer Savings’ sale on Friday.”

    “Oh yeah?” They must have posted the promo today, Saitama hadn’t seen it before. He fiddled with his bowl of noodles, thinking through the week. Today was Wednesday, so…if they used up the leftovers tomorrow, they’d be covered until Friday… “Sounds good! We’ll check it out.”

    Genos nodded and went back to studying a notebook laid out next to his curry chicken. He’d drawn a little diagram of the two of them in there. The dumb faces he put on his sketches always made Saitama laugh—he got oval eyes and a circle for a mouth (if he was lucky), and all Genos scratched in for himself were two angry black boxes. The way he kept on stopping before he wrote, though, made Saitama wonder if he wasn’t looking through his recordings…

    Ah, well. He could ask what videos he was using later. For now he poked his cyborg’s arm. “Aren’t you hungry?” He had an event with HAATO today and then immediately called up Kuseno when he got home. He must’ve been running on empty by this point. “I know how you get when you’re busy. C’mon, dig in.”

    Genos pouted back at Saitama, the same way he always did when his sensei called him out. “I will be fine, Sensei. My reserves are more than enough to sustain me for long after my primary power runs out, but that isn’t a risk because I have plenty to last me for several more hours—”

    Saitama raised an eyebrow, and his husband pouted harder.

    “…But I suppose I should eat something, just in case.”

    “Mm,” he answered, “Don’t want to fall asleep for movie night, right? Besides, you gotta take care of yourself, kid.”

    “I do…although Sensei already takes quite good care of me.”

    God was he corny. Saitama shook his head and looked back to his notebook, wondering what he was plotting out in there. He started sketching when he was on the phone with Kuseno, so… “Is that what were you talking about earlier? With the doc, I mean. Is it for new parts?”

    A tiny hiss came from Genos’ shoulders as he nodded, biting into a hunk of chicken. He dabbed away some of the sauce with a napkin and scribbled in another note.

    Saitama tried to imagine what kind of upgrade it could be. He didn’t see anything different the last time he was in the lab…but then again, it was hard to tell one pile of wires, gears, and chips apart from another pile of wires, gears, and chips. It must’ve had to do with the list of pros and cons Genos was writing, and the arrows pointing at his face, his neck, his palms, his feet… What did any of those have in common? They were all pretty different…except… “Is it for your skin? Is Kuseno working on a new kind?”

    The boy glanced up and bit his lip. Sensei liked hearing about his upgrades, and normally Genos was more than happy to explain it to him, but…discussing this one, when they hadn’t even begun the process yet… “Y-yes, Sensei. It would be, ah…slip-on covers, ideally, a bit like gloves and stockings, that would make my armor safer for more…more vulnerable bodies…”

    Saitama straightened up right away. “O-oh? Really?”

    The low din of fans kicked in, filling the room with a familiar hum. He hadn’t thought about it before, but…guess it was pretty easy for things to get pinched at Genos’ shoulder and elbow, huh? Especially if he was…holding them there… Saitama swallowed back the butterflies that image gave him and touched Genos’ hand. “Do you need help? Thinking it over, I mean. …If I can.”

    Genos sat quiet for a moment. His vents sure did get louder though. “Saitama-sensei,” he trailed, “If…you could tell me which you think would be best, of these…”

    Saitama craned his neck to see the whole page. “Uh… Which would be softest?”

    There was a creak as Genos pushed away from the edge and skootched over to Saitama’s side of the table, notebook in tow. He plopped himself cross-legged next to his hero and opened it in front of him. “More, Sensei, which would be most comfortable for an—an i-infant. Should we end up…um… Do you think the warmth of my skin is most important, or the padding from my palms and feet…”

    “Okay,” Saitama breathed, taking it in his hands. Genos was so fucking cute when he got nervous (not that Saitama didn’t get why). He cooled his head enough to scan the diagrams and immediately realized how bad he was at visualizing things. “Can I, uh…” He lifted his arm, waiting for Genos to look over at him.

    The boy nodded and Saitama slid his hand across his cheek, smiling when Genos leaned into it. He was such a dork… Saitama was too though, ‘cause it still gave him flutters when Genos did stuff like that. They were married for frick’s sake, he needed to get his act together.

    He moved his hand without thinking and tried to compare what the rest of Genos’ body felt like. It’s not like all his other squishy parts weren’t soft too, they were just soft in a different way. The skin on his face was velvety, and firm, and warm… Not quite as warm as the rest of him, but enough to feel nice…

    Saitama glanced up at his disciple’s eyes and saw the telltale flicker of numbers in his iris. He gave a soft laugh. “Are you recording me…?”

    “Perhaps, Sensei,” he admitted. “…My husband is very handsome when he’s focused.”

    The man shook his head and ignored the ticking counter, trying not to get self-conscious. He wrapped a hand around Genos’ and compared it to his face. The fleshy skin was softer, that wasn’t a question, but his palms were like tiny pillows… He ran his fingers down Genos’ cheek and chin and nose, weighing, deciding. He might’ve been getting a little distracted too, if he was being honest. The kid’s skin was really soft, and his eyelashes were so long, and he could land a permanent gig at any modeling agency he interviewed at because he was so damned jaw-dropping…

    Saitama snapped to and felt along Genos’ hand, going from wrist to fingertip and back down to the knuckle. He couldn’t help but linger over the itty-bitty words over his ring finger though. Genos didn’t say anything, the same way he didn’t say anything as Saitama pressed his thumb over his lips. He must’ve had the nicest lips in the whole world, what with them being all plush like that. No one could come close. Saitama’d kissed them more than a billion times by now and he’d never get over how pouty and smooth and—

    He jumped, caught off-guard by those same lips pressed up against his own. Only then did he notice how far he’d leaned in, and the sly little smirk painted across his disciple’s face. Had Genos just been watching him come close…?

    …Saitama’s cheeks blazed, and he didn’t know why. It’s not like he wasn’t used to Genos being a total brat when it came to stuff like that. He knew every one of Saitama’s buttons and he played them like a PS2 controller. But nevermind! Forget all that, Saitama had to focus, he needed to figure out what would be best for a b…baby…and stop thinking about Genos’ perfect skin and his pillowy lips and his pretty, gold hair…

    Saitama hung his head. “They’re all really good,” he said, mumbling over the buzz of Genos’ core. “I think Kuseno could make something out of any of it.”

    “He could, I do not doubt that, but…I’m unsure which to suggest first. They all have their benefits and drawbacks.”

    “…What about,” Saitama drawled, desperate to offer something worthwhile, “Some padding?” Genos sat there, tipping his head, waiting for him to continue. God did Saitama wish he was smarter. “Y’know…cushioning, or fluff, so…their head has something nice to lay on.” He took a slow breath. “I’m sure he could blend them fine. I mean, your throat and tongue and all that is just fixed up skin, isn’t it? So it would work.”

    Genos batted his eyelashes in a way that meant danger. “I hadn’t thought of it that way…though I suppose Sensei would know far better than me how both of those feel.”

    Saitama muttered a bashful “brat” and they sat, daring the other to go on, knowing they were both feeling that same giddiness, that same heat…

    “Genos,” Saitama mumbled, fiddling with the edge of his chestplate.

    It took a second for Genos to respond. “We will look at it with fresher minds in the morning, Sensei,” was all he said. Then he stood up, walked out onto the balcony, and closed the door behind him so the warm air didn’t rush in as he fished their bedding off the drying line.

    Saitama watched him through the glass, fixed on his silhouette moving against the dark sky. Saitama probably should’ve been laying out their futon right now, but…he couldn’t. There was something hypnotic about seeing Genos there, and he couldn’t pull away.

    He tried to figure out what it was. It had to do with the shimmer of the moonlight, and how gently his fingers moved, and the way his armor caught the stars… It was like he was casting a spell out there, almost.

    …Geeze, all the kid was doing was unpinning laundry and Saitama felt like he was watching Cinderella transform into a princess. It was ridiculous. It happened every time he ogled Genos for too long and it was ridiculous. He could be folding clothes, typing emails, paying a cashier…it didn’t matter. The feeling hit Saitama all the time and he could never explain himself when he was caught staring.

    …Just like when Genos came back inside. Saitama didn’t have a chance to whip his face away before Genos made eye contact, and he knew immediately. All he did was smile back at him though, and look at the blankets on his arm, and pat out their wrinkles.

    “Sensei, do you want me to save the leftovers?”

    Sensei fumbled with his drawstrings, hiding the red in his cheeks.

    “I can use them to make a stir-fry tomorrow.”

    “Uh… Sure, Genos. Go ahead.”

    Trailing smugness and a gentle buzz, Genos laid the sheets down and gathered up all the dishes. Saitama moved to help but he was waved off. In no time flat their lunches were made and packed away, perfect little bentos appearing on the counter like…well, like magic.

    Saitama kept on watching as he washed the dishes. He must’ve been a little bit magic, to do all the things he did. To be as amazing as he was. Saitama thought so, at least.

    Genos glanced up at the picture of them hanging in the kitchen and picked up the “I do” mug. He started humming to himself as he rinsed it.

    …Yeah. That was undeniably, positively it. Magic. That was all it could be. There were all sorts of magic, after all—hypnotizing someone, making things disappear…true love’s first kiss…

    Genos peeked at his husband and back to the sink, scrubbing motions slowing.

    There were a lot of magical things out there.

    “Sensei,” blondie called, “Do you want to begin loading Chobits while I dry the dishes?”

    ...And now that he thought about it, “happily ever after” was pretty magical too.

    “Yeah… Yeah, sure Genos. Sounds good.”

    He reached over and pulled the DVD off the tower. A stack of papers came tumbling down after it, one of them a packet from the HA about their adoption program. Bang had given it to them a week ago, saying they might be interested, but they never figured out how he knew. It’s not like they talked about it with anyone other than Kuseno…

    Saitama put down the DVD for a second and flipped to the page where he left off reading. It was tough for him to concentrate with how hard his heart was thumping inside his chest.