#he says that his toddler son needs to grow up and stop being afraid of a giant wolf cause /winter is coming/ and Northern life is hard 😭

[fromtheseventhhell]

"Sansa = Ned 2.0 and Arya = Catelyn 2.0" is one of those takes where you can just tell people are more attached to the aesthetic than anything. "The Stark girls are most like the parent they look least like" sounds good on paper and people run with the idea, regardless of how it actually fits into the story. A majority of the justification relies on misinterpreting all of their characters + a healthy dose of fanon. What gets me is that this is the same fandom that insists that Lyanna, only compared to Arya in the text, is equal parts Arya and Sansa but Ned and Catelyn, two fully fleshed-out and complex characters, have to be more like one girl or the other? There's just nothing in the story to justify being so adamant about these comparisons. Arya and Sansa have parallels with both of their parents but at the end of the day, they are unique characters with their own stories. I'll never understand why people want to flatten these complex characters down to their most basic tropes and fit them into restrictive boxes just for a "poetical~" comparison.

[itsshizyne]

Baby Daddy Chronicles

——————

A Tomura Shigaraki parent Oneshot

You forced Tomura to spend some alone time with his year old son while you went out with a couple of friends for a girls night out. He realises how difficult parenthood can really be.

Inspired by @wornoutmouse

Word count: I have no idea but I’m pretty sure it’s a lot. Way more than I expected.

Warnings: None, just Papa Shiggy trying to figure out how to please and get along with his son.

This is targeted towards Black readers, but the reader insert is able to fit with anyone.

Key: b/n = baby’s name.

“It won’t stop staring at me.” He told you on the phone as he carefully watched his crawling child from the other side of the room. Chewing on one of his soft baby toys with his toothless gums as drool gathered around his small mouth.

You scoffed on the other side of the phone line. “It? Tomura that’s your son you know? And he literally just turned one last week. What is he supposed to do? Do cartwheels around the house?” You laughed, resulting in a groan from your baby daddy.

Tomura nearly jumped out of the grey sofa as his son began to slowly crawl towards him. He noticed the small, h/c haired, curly headed infant had one of his red shoes in his hands and quickly pulled it out of the child’s small fingers before he could start sucking on it. “He’s been doing the same thing for nearly an hour, it’s really creepy.”

“Welcome to parenthood. If you were around often, you’d see b/n does that all the time.” You sighed.

Shigaraki saw that the child was about to cry and pulled him up onto the sofa, his pinky fingers pointing away from the mini body as to assure that his quirk wouldn’t activate. “It’s not my fault I’m always at meetings, the league needs me y/n.”

“Well your son needs you more. You should’ve thought about all of that before and pulled out fast enough. Anyway, I’ve gotta go, have fun! I’ll be back in a couple of hours!” Before he could say anything you hung up, Shigaraki slumped his body down into the soft cushions as his child continued to stare at him with crimson eyes, just like his own, like he was some sort stranger.

This was the first time he’d ever been alone with his toddler. Ever since the kid was born, he had always left you to deal with the parent stuff while he was busy coming up with ideas to take down the corrupt hero society. Occasionally coming round with diapers, clothes, food, money and other things needed so you and his child were living comfortably.

It’s not like he didn’t want to be around his son, but it was more of a fear. He didn’t exactly have a good upbringing himself, he was new to all of this and thought he wasn’t good enough to be a father or he wasn’t prepared to take on such responsibilities of caring for a small infant.

Although you constantly reassured him that it was all going to be okay, he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to show love to the child. And that he would probably grow up resenting his father, or worse…end up just like him.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt his son crawl out of his arms and land bottom first onto the wooden floor, he tried to pick him back up when the child began to fidget and whine beneath him.

“Oh come on little guy, can’t you see I’m trying to make sure you don’t get yourself into trouble.” The baby smacked his muscular arm and began to crawl back to his original space, picking up one of those small All Might action figures you brought for him out of spite and smack it head first against the floor.

Shigaraki chuckled and scooted towards his son on the floor, attempting to take the toy out of his hand before being met with a small palm against his soft cheek. “Alright! I’ll leave you to keep destroying your little figure. I guess we have at least one thing in common hm?”

A gentle, warming smile appeared on Tomura’s face as the toddler began to loudly giggle, grinning wide with soft gums in amusement while he smashed the figure’s head on the floor with even more force. His father’s heart warmed at the sight of this, not only did his son also hate all might for some reason, but he found joy in destroying things to make him happy.

You would be pissed if you saw Shigaraki finding amusement in shamelessly entertaining the child’s activities, but you weren’t here. To your baby daddy, it was just him and his sons little secret.

However, his smile was quickly faded when the baby began to loudly cry. On normal occasions, he’d just step back and wait for you to deal with your son while he made his way to the balcony due to the fact he hated such noises.

But unfortunately this wasn’t the case. Tomura would have to man up, and deal with whatever was troubling his son like a responsible parent.

Only…he couldn’t think of anything.

You fed him before you went out. And made sure you had stocks of perpetrated milk in the fridge in case he got hungry, and his favourite show that made Tomura rip out strands of his white hair from the annoying rhymes was on the television at normal volume, so what could possibly be causing his son such agitation?

It was only until Shigaraki picked up his boy and was met with a strong, putrid smell from the boy’s diaper that he finally knew. And he wasn’t looking forward to solving the unfortunate problem.

~~~~~~~~

Holding the boy with eight fingers, the older male quickly rushed to his room and placed him on the changing mat. Tomura wasn’t exactly a fan of changing nappies, he always left it for you to do. He didn’t even know what way to put a nappy on a child, both sides were to insure that the baby waste didn’t spread anywhere else so why did he have to care what side he put it on?

After stripping the baby and realising he was completely lost on what to do next, there was only one person he knew could call at this time of the evening. Small coos and groans could be heard from the small boy as he held one foot high in the air with the other in his mouth.

“Look, cut me some slack okay? Your mother usually does this type of stuff.” He told the child as he began to call Dabi. He was the eldest out of his siblings, so he definitely knew how to change a diaper right? He must have the experience.

After almost two minutes of constant transfers to voicemail, the black haired male finally picked up his phone with a loud irritated groan. “What the fuck do you want? I’m sort of in the middle of something here.”

Tomura didn’t ask or even want to know what his partner was in the middle of, when dealing with such a lazy manwhore like Dabi, who knows what he’s up to most of the time. “Do you know how to change a diaper? The kid took a dump and y/n usually deals with stuff like this.”

Shigaraki was met with a huge guffaw of laughter from Dabi after explaining his current, serious situation and started to get annoyed. This was no laughing matter. “What? Seriously? Please tell me you’re joking boss, you don’t know how to change a diaper? Have you been living under a rock or something?”

“Just shut your mouth and tell me how to do this shit, I don’t have time for your jokes.” Tomura rasped, scratching his neck in frustration as his associate continued to mock him. “Fine alright I’ll help, this is why b/n can always count on his uncle Dabi.”

Shigaraki suddenly quirked an eyebrow and screwed his face. “Wait. Who said you’re his uncle? Cause I sure as hell didn’t.”

“Um, your baby momma. I was literally the first person to go to the hospital and see the kid, I’m practically his certified god father. Put some respect on my name Shiggy.” Dabi clapped back, sounding quite offended.

“Whatever, just tell me how to change this thing. I swear this parent thing is starting to get on my last nerves.” He complained, rubbing the side of his head and letting out a heavy sigh.

“Should’ve pulled out.”

“For fuck sak- JUST TELL ME HOW TO DO IT ALREADY!” He yelled, startling the baby and resulting in a small cry. His father quickly pulled out one of his soft chew toys and put it in his hand, calming the little boy down.

“Alright relax. So the first thing you’re gonna wanna do is take off the diaper, remove those little sticky bits.” Dabi begun to explain, Tomura put the phone on loud speaker and set it by b/n’s little head. He removed the tape from the front of the diaper and pulled the front down.

Being met with a strong stench, he put that front of his hoodie over his nose in attempt to block out the smell. “Yeah I did that, what next?”

“Pick up a few baby wipes and clean him and his mess up, and I mean CLEAN him, he might get a rash of you don’t. and make sure you do it from top to bottom.” Dabi spoke in a serious tone. Tomura nodded and began to wipe all of the poop away, he started to get a hang of it after a few swipes and smiled at his new accomplishment.

He was finally getting this whole dad thing under control, it was one of his great successes next to that one time he and the LOV fought the entire liberation front with hardly any sleep.

He was quite proud of himself. “Yeah I cleaned him up, next ashtray?”

“Clean him more, make sure there’s nothing there. Then you’re gonna have to put the wipes in the dirty diaper and wrap it up.” Tomura gave b/n a final wipe down with a warm wet, rag and placed the used wipes into the dirty nappy, using the sticky sides to hold everything in place when he wrapped it up and threw it in a plastic bag.

He didn’t notice his son slowly crawling away naked with the phone until he glanced back, he scooped the child up with one hand and placed him back onto the mat. “I haven’t finished just yet, stay here. You can hold the phone for me alright.” He giggled and tapped b/n’s button nose before resuming. “So what should I do after that?”

“Well you put a fresh diaper back on the kid and put his clothes back on.” Dabi lazily responded, Shigaraki picked up the diaper and was met with confusion as he tried to figure out what side went where. “I’m gonna need you to elaborate for me, I don’t know how to put it on.”

“There’s absolutely no way that you’re being serious right now… where are you when y/n does this?” The male on the other side of the phone slapped and shook his head in huge disappointment. What kind of father doesn’t know how to put on a diaper? “I have better things to do than deal with dirty diapers. You, of all people should know this.”

“And I thought y/n having a kid would change you, jeez you’re so cold boss.” Dabi said subtly, not knowing his words would land a critical hit on Tomura’s heart.

“I know I haven’t been father of the year, but I’m trying change that. So how do you do it?” He mumbled with a click of his tongue, feeling quite guilty at the fact that Dabi was right. Of course he’d been there to provide for his little boy, but when it got to important moments like this, he was always quick to run away and avoid catering to his son’s needs at all costs.

A simple job for you, yet a complete and utter hassle for him was an eye opener that he needed to have a change of attitude towards b/n.

“The side with the sticky part goes at the back and the soft side goes at the front.” Dabi answered and yawned into the mic, his hot breath blowing loudly through the phone with a static like sound causing Tomura’s son to shake the phone out of innocent curiosity.

After a few long and complicated seconds that felt like an eternity, Shigaraki was able to successfully put b/n into a fresh diaper. He put on a fresh pair of purple space pyjamas onto the little boy and hoisted him over his shoulder.

“Aye well done boss, you aren’t just a deadbeat father after all!” Dabi playfully clapped his hands together and jokingly cheered for his boss, successfully earning a long eye roll from the annoyed male who sucked his teeth.

“I was never a deadbeat, respect me.” Tomura frowned.

“Well Now you’re done, I’m gonna go back to doing what I was doing. Give my nephew a little kiss on the forehead from his favourite uncle okay?”

“Oh fuck right off.” Tomura grinned, patting b/n on the back as he him bounced around. “Fine be like that asshole, you’re just jealous that his favourite uncle has always got his back.”

“And his only father does too. Don’t I little man? Don’t I? Your daddy’s got you!” He cooed at the baby in his arms, who giggled and gripped at his hoodie.

Feeling grossed out at his boss’ sudden kindness, Dabi said his final goodbyes.“You’re so weird. It’s scary hearing you all happy and shit. Anyway I’m out, bye.” And with that; he hung up the phone. Leaving Tomura and his mini version of himself to hang out.

Tomura held the baby high in the air, chuckling to himself as mini feet kicked and flew all over the place in a fit of excitement. “So now that we’ve finally got that out of the way, what are me and you gonna do next hm?”

~~~~~~~~

After nearly an hour and a half of his father kindly entertaining the toddler with various, safe, ‘anti villain activities’, which is what you liked to call them, b/n started crying again. At this point Tomura had gotten used to his son’s yelling, carefully picking up the child and rocking him on his shoulder as he walked to the kitchen.

He put b/n into his blue and red high chair and pulled out his own seat, rummaging through the cabinets where you kept the baby food. “The last time I gave you your bottle, you threw it at my head. So pick between these two.” He pulled out a jar of mashed Carrot and peas, and apple purée.

B/n reached for the apple purée with his small hands and began to use his gums to bite on the lid, indicating to his father of his chosen meal for the evening.

“Good choice.” Tomura smiled and opened the jar, scooping up some of the purée with a plastic baby spoon and putting it into his Son’s mouth. “Ah, so now you’re not being all fussy. All you wanted was a little food huh?”

“Woah, don’t eat too fast, you might get the hiccups kid.” After Tomura waited for son to swallow his food, b/n soon opened his mouth and awaited another spoon full of apple sauce.

All this praise came to a stop when the infant spat out his mouthful of food. Tiny chunks of apple sauce covered Shigaraki’s frowning face as he sat in his seat frozen from shock, the little boy couldn’t help but laugh at his father’s reaction, that’s what kids do after all.

He stood up from his seat and picked up the nearest clean cloth to wipe his face and hoodie. “You try so hard to make my life difficult don’t you?” He sighed at a occupied b/n trying to get the last of his apple sauce from the almost empty jar with his little hand.

Tomura immediately came to assist him and scraped the leftover purée from inside of the jar and plopped it into the baby’s mouth.

“I guess I’ve gotta clean you up now. Your mum should be home soon.” He said checking his wrist watch. He cleaned his child’s hands and face with a baby wipe before he picked him up and went back into your living room.

~~~~~~~~

In order to keep the kid distracted while he cleaned up the living room which was filled with all of b/n’s little toys laying around, Tomura went through some of the CDs you had given him before you left.

In the end, he decided on Shrek 2. Tomura remembered how you always put it on for b/n whenever you were busy with work or house chores so he wouldn’t trouble you too much. “This should be fun, it’s your favourite movie right?”

B/n clapped for joy with his petite palms as he watched his father slip the disk into the DVD player and patiently waited for it to load as his guardian went into the other room to collect cleaning supplies.

Instead of watching the film, he watched Shigaraki with wide red eyes begin to put all of his teddy bears, action figures and electronic toys into his big customised wooden toy box situated in the corner of your living room.

Once he noticed that his father was done cleaning, He crawled towards the couch and held his hands up as an indication for him to be picked up. “All you have to do as ask y’know. Come on, I know you can do it. Just say something to me, Anything kid.”

One of Shigaraki’s goals was to be the one to inspire his Son’s first words. When you weren’t around, he always tried to get him to say crazy things such as ‘I hate All Might!’ or ‘Decay!’ But so far he hasn’t been successful. It wasn’t going to stop him from trying though.

If the kid could crawl, he could definitely try and talk.

“So you’re not gonna talk for me? Okay then little guy, come here.” He said in a slightly disappointed tone and brought his child up onto his lap, holding him in place with his strong arms as they both sat in silence watching Shrek shout at Donkey for no particular reason.

It reminded him about his relationship with Dabi and the others, they’d talk about absolute nonsense during meeting and he’d always tell them to shut up and focus on the main planning. He was a really tough leader, but secretly had a soft spot for each and every one of them. Just like he had a soft spot for you.

“Looks like after tormenting me all day, someone’s tired.” Shigaraki whispered as his son began to yawn and turn into his chest for comfort. He removed his hoodie and put it over b/n’s body, leaving himself with nothing but a white vest and grey jogging bottoms to get comfortable in.

He could feel himself slowly drifting off to sleep, he was really tired after spending the day taking care of the mischievous b/n. However, he had to ensure his little one was resting smoothly before he could take his own nap, so stayed up for another half hour.

Running his three fingers along the infants small back as he coed and dribbled over his fathers chest, before falling into a deep sleep.

And once he was satisfied, Shigaraki too slowly fell into slumber just minutes later.

No heavy or deep thoughts, just him and his adorable, innocent sleeping son on the small couch.

~~~~~~~~

“Shig? I’m back.” You yelled as you stepped through the front door, wondering what was currently occupying your boyfriend and your child.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” You called out again when you failed to receive a first response.

“B/n. Your mother’s home, where are you my favourite little guy? Hm?” You slipped off your shoes and coat, placed them on the floor and coat hanger before walking further into your home.

It was unusually quiet, from the last time you spoke to Tomura on the phone, you were expecting quite the opposite. B/n crawling up and down the apartment while his father tried to catch him, little toys everywhere, but it wasn’t the case.

Instead, the place was completely spotless and you were shocked to see your baby boy sleeping peacefully on top of his father’s chest, curled up in a little ball with his resting dad still holding him with one arm. It was such a beautiful sight to walk into.

Attempting to make as little noise as possible to ensure you didn’t wake the two males, you picked up a large nearby blanket and put it over them. The foreign object was enough for a half a sleep Tomura to flutter his eyes and smile at your presence that he missed so much.

“Did I do okay?”

You moved small strands of white hair away from his face before placing a soft kiss against his slightly sweaty forehead as he fell back into deep sleep.

“You did great Tomu.”

[metablood]

One for All October 2022 contribution : Growing up in his shadow.

Thanks to @aimportantdragoncollector and @mcfanely for this contest !

I followed prompt #9 "Yoichi and AFO childhood". Here we are : the young AFO, from Yoichi point of view, and how Yoichi was groomed. I gave a first name to AFO for the sake of clarity...

You can also read it on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/42062892

1566 words, not rated. TW : psychological abuse.

***

I wish I could say something like “our father beat him relentlessly”, or “money was tight at home…”. I wish I could come up with some explanation, if not an excuse, for what he did.

I wish I could reassure you, by telling you people get that bad only when they have been wronged in many ways.

I wish I could tell you evil is not ordinary.

My brother’s name was Akio Shigaraki, before he chose to become All for One. He was the first born son of a successful engineer from a car company, and a devoted housewife. At first, he appeared to be quirkless, but it was the most common outcome during the 60’s. Only around 25% of children born between 1960 and 1969 had a quirk. Our father had a quirk, but he avoided talking about it, as he considered it “feminine”. He had the ability to share his emotions and sensations by touching one’s hand. You would feel them exactly like he did. He would only use it with our mother, though. And I believed it was the key of their successful relationship.

I was born only one year later than him. But despite being close in age, he only ever wanted to be my superior. He needed to come first, always. He wanted more food, more attention from our parents, a later bedtime, longer on the swing… Of course, this behavior is normal for a toddler. But you expect them to grow out of it.

Again, our parents were very nice, patient, and emotionally stable. They explained to him this behavior was not okay. They taught him to share, to ask if anyone else wanted more dessert… Akio learned his lesson: he masked his selfishness. He still got exactly what he wanted… but made you think it was your idea!

When he was in Elementary School, we heard about a boy whose quirk disappeared. The boy was devastated of course. It was a cute quirk, which let him levitate on small distances. Doctors said that sometimes, quirks could faint, then reappear later… that some quirks took a toll on the body…  Later that year, I thought I saw Akio levitating in his bedroom, as I was passing by to go to the toilet. Then he came to me, grabbed my shirt, then I have no idea what happened.

No parent, teacher, service worker, could resist Akio’s charm. His wide smile enlightened any room, his calm and unique voice made everyone stop to listen to him. He spent a lot of time fixing his hair, choosing his clothes, every morning. But he made sure nobody knew he cared about his look. It had to seem effortless.

He got straight As from kindergarten to high school. Teachers praised him for his behavior and performances. But his good grades didn’t make him unpopular, far from it… He was also good at sports and an accomplished artist, which made him popular among diverse groups of teens.

Only I knew he used multiple stolen quirks all the time, while passing for quirkless. When he reached the age of 14, he had ways to improve his strength, speed, and communication skills. Of course, he would only use his quirks slightly, not to be caught having them. It means that everywhere, all the time, he was always slightly better than everyone else. Not too much so that it would seem weird… but enough that he could be praised and cherished.

Why didn’t I say anything? Well, at the time, I was still his little… thing. His tiny, delicate, forgetful, little brother.

It was a mystery for doctors and family how I could forget so much! I would be confused about the day of the week, the time of the day... I kept checking my watch and school planner every few minutes, afraid I forgot something. But then I blacked out, and I woke up in a strange place, not knowing what happened earlier that day. Other kids laughed it off “typical Yoichi, ha-ha!”. Adults became more and more infuriated with me as the years went by. At the time, nobody talked about ADHD, so they called me names, not nice ones. Anyway, it was not ADHD, but one of the first quirk my brother ever stole: mind fog.

He told be all about it, knowing nobody would believe me. He noticed this quirk at the playground, on a 6-year-old girl. Other kids would go numb, with a blank face, when she touched them. It was unintentional! She never realized she even had this quirk before my brother stole it. He took it, tested it, mastered it. He realized he could make people confused for hours, and forget all what happened during this time, and right before touching them.

Since then, he made sure to regularly “fog” me until I became famously unreliable to everyone around us. Even my very patient mother became fed up with my “shenanigans”. Who wouldn’t? I would think we are Sunday and not go to school… I would forget what and if I ate, if I did any homework earlier that day, if I took my shower… Coming back from a trip, I would be unable to remember half of it. While watching the pictures with my family, it was like watching someone else’s memories.

My brother erased at least 50% of my life out of my brain. During the other 50%, he would groom me into becoming his ally. It’s a miracle I ever had a thought of my own.

He always had a clique of his own. And he made sure I was always included, despite me being largely unpopular. Our parents were very happy about their generous first born helping his awkward little brother to make friends! So charitable! A kind soul…

Around high school, his clique started looking more and more like a cult. People in the group would get infinite grace, good luck, a sturdy social network. People out of it were only casualties, pawns for my brother to move and use as he wished. He didn’t see any evil in that, as this is how business is done, how a political party becomes successful…

We studied in fancy private schools where the headteachers would make long speeches about being the elite, networking with the children of successful people, our success crushing other schools… It was not enough to get good grades and get a place in a fancy university. We had to crush the other kids.

All day long teachers would compare students to each other, make lists and rankings, humiliate the losers. Some kids could not spend a full day at school without crying or having a breakdown. In the same times, kids who were on top of rankings could get away with being late, being mean, harassing other students… Teachers would pass by, have a look, then look away. As long as the top tier was crushing the bottom tier, it was not bullying to them, but something about “know your place”.

Did they really think that humiliating the weaker students would give them motivation to work harder, or were they simply cowards? I always wondered how they could make any sense out of this system… last time I checked, as long as you make “rankings”, somebody has to be the last one. No wonder how much you work, how hard you try, someone has to.

In the meantime, I struggled to keep up with schoolwork, as I was in the “fog” so much. But my brother kept me close, very close to him. He could not be the “first” alone, he needed minions. Here I was, small and confused, barely a shadow. He looked like the perfect big brother, I made him look less intimidating, and a trustful protector. The strong wanted to be like him, the weak wanted his protection.

All for him, every move he made was for him. He used them, he led many to their fall. But most importantly: they thought of him as their savior. It takes a lot of self-centeredness, manipulation, and lack of ethics. But when was any of these ever punished, as long as you give them a pretty face?

How could a system that made him win all the time wrong?

Which led him to another idea: a shift in society that would not beneficiate him was wrong. Quirk and super-heroic society, more and more accurate quirk diagnosis, jeopardized his criminal lifestyle.

Enemies to my brother or his group… didn’t last long. Many ended up mysteriously becoming fervent members of his group, the rest was expelled from our school, or had accidents.

Again, is it wrong? Teachers expel kids all the time… Annoying political leaders have accidents… Among humans and animals, you must be, if not the strongest, at least the fittest.

Yes, all my brother did was to fit in. He saw the Japanese school system, understood it, and decided to take it a little bit too literally. Most kids just perform, play the good student role. Not my brother. He became, deeply, what he was asked too. First. Be First, Come First, always! And make the rest of them think that something is wrong with them! So, they’ll follow you, and plead for you to help them, teach them, show them, how to be more like you!

And so, he became All for One.

[zivazivc]

Pinocchio AU

Okay people want the explanation for this comic so here it goes. It’s long and complicated and MESSED UP because of course it is, this is me. I’m going to write in points because my small tired brain can’t handle good english atm but basically to sum up the Adrien was a sentimonster theory or Pinocchio AU as I like to call it:

Young married Emilie and Gabriel can’t have kids. Gabriel reluctantly accepts this fate and even brings up adoption as a possibility once, but Emilie doesn’t want to hear any of that. She’s a bit of a Marinette in the sense that she pictures this romanticized ideal life for herself and a child—her flesh and blood—HAS to be in it.

They keep trying to get a baby while other young families Emilie knows keep growing. She feels left out and hurt and depressed, then her newlywed twin sister announces she’s expecting a baby too and something within Emilie just unhinges.

She eventually lies to some of her friends, who she was out for coffee with, that she’s pregnant too. She mostly does it just to see their reaction and feel what it would be like but it quickly spirals out of control where she just starts pretending she’s pregnant until you can’t even tell if she believes it herself.

Gabriel is confused at first because he hears the news second hand (a friend/family member congratulating him) so he’s apprehensive when he approaches his wife but she convinces him that they really are getting a baby and Gabriel is ecstatic.

It’s only later at a doctor’s check up that Gabriel learns that she indeed is not pregnant. The doctor even speaks to him alone explaining that his wife is in denial and that he should make sure she goes to see a psychiatrist, something she definitely wouldn’t do alone.

Gabriel is unsuccessful with that because he’s not entirely persistent, doesn’t want to be the guy with the crazy wife having to tell everyone she lied about being pregnant, and hopelessly believes she’ll just get over it eventually.

That is until her “pregnancy is near due”—her sister already had Félix in England a few months ago—and he stumbles on her transformed with her peacock miraculous (they already have both of them) creating a sentimonster newborn.

They have a huge fight about it but because Emilie refuses to destroy it, won’t tell Gabriel where the amok is, and Gabriel can’t just hurt the baby with his hands, Emilie just… wins. Fucked up, yeah?

Now she tried creating kids before this one, using her imagination to try and blend her and Gabriel’s looks but it just wasn’t working. So she decided to copy of photos of baby Félix because he already looked almost like a copy of his mother, and Amélie and Emilie already looked alike so it’s not so weird?—is what her mind was telling her.

She didn’t dare alter his looks but she decided to give the baby Gabriel’s eye color to include the “father” in some way. (Yes in that comic I made I gave Adrien a mix of green and gray but that was mainly to get the point across to the perceptive readers)

Now we got Adrien, a normal baby boy to the whole world except for Gabriel who’s forced into his wife’s fantasy through social expectations.

Why are we only at this point and this post is already so long AAAAAAAA!!!

Adrien physically basically grows in a way where Emilie just keeps changing his appearance to match what Félix looked like a few months prior.

Mentally he’s like a robot just taking in information without really needing to learn it. So Emilie decides when he says his first word, she decides when he learns to walk,… He knows how to walk, he just wasn’t given the command to do so yet.

But even so he does develop a personality over time, just slower, because unlike a normal child who’s always testing his boundaries, how far they’re allowed to go until they’re in real trouble, Adrien just can’t misbehave. At all.

But he does have his favorite foods and favorite toys, and jokes that make him laugh the most. The problem is just that Emilie could just decide that his favorite food is strawberries and he’d just start acting accordingly, rewiring his belief. 

He also isn’t allowed to argue or be mean to others which is why Félix thinks he’s a goody two-shoes weirdo while Chloé the brat adores him.

This behavior isn’t so hard to hide with a toddler who’s fickle but it’s harder and harder as the kid grows. Which is why the family becomes very secluded over time.

Gabriel always keeps distance with his “son”. He’s not Dad, he’s Father, he doesn’t do hugs and cuddles, he doesn’t say I love you. But Adrien knows he loves him because his mom told him so and he loves him back unconditionally because Mom said that’s what families do.

Now even though Gabriel is traumatized by this whole ordeal and knowing Adrien “isn’t real” freaks him out he does soften a bit over time. I’m going to give an awful example but like someone who hates cats softening for a cat that their partner/roommate decided to get/had from before. Continuing with this example: But still becoming appalled when the cat starts acting odd/unusually.

Okay I think you get the gist. Let’s move on…

Emilie loves her son more and more as he grows and his sentimonster behaviours start bothering her more and more too. She hates being reminded that he’s not a real boy by people mentioning he looks young for his age because Emilie forgot to make him grow for a while. She hates when he does everything like he’s told. She hates that he has no real friends because they’re afraid to expose him to the outside too much and without supervision. She hates to think about his future.

Her desire for him to be real keeps growing and is what drives her to search for a solution in the miraculous spellbook.

She cracks the script after years, when Adrien is nearly a teen, and finds a way to transfer the creators soul into a sentimonster.

It’s a long process that takes time and while she falls ill to everyone around her, Adrien becomes more real.

Gabriel starts realizing what’s happening when he notices Adrien hesitate for a second when he’s playing a video game and Gabriel wants him to do something, groan when he gets bothered watching TV, huff, complain, have slightly opposing opinions to his and Emilie’s, when he argues with his mother when she tells him she’s feeling fine; when he notices his son’s eyes are greener. Or is it all in his head?

He confronts his wife too late, when she’s extremely ill already, her normally vibrant eyes dulled match Adrien’s bluish gray, and he pieces together in his head what she’s doing.

Before Gabriel could properly think what to do to stop the love of his life from turning into a lifeless doll, in a fit of panic he tries to take her wedding band (where he knows Adrien’s amok is) to get rid of Adrien instead, but is unsuccessful in getting it off her so he snatches her peacock brooch instead (which she needs to complete the spell obvs) and breaks it. (Heyoo! broken peacock miraculous. things are coming together)

Because the spell was almost complete anyway it’s Emilie who falls unconscious. But she doesn’t disappear because she’s not a real sentimonster, she just becomes dormant like one.

This is the point in the story where Gabriel makes it seem like Emilie ran away or something like that—basically disappear. Now he’s living knowing he has an almost sentimonster wife in the basement, knowing he almost killed his son (or her), and having to care for a son that suddenly became much more alive, questioning, arguing, angry, screaming, not accepting, crying, grieving, staring at him with Emilie’s eyes.

Instead of becoming a real parent, Gabriel shuts him out.

Soon Adrien evolves desires for socializing, company, getting away from the suffocating home which eventually leads to him going to a public school.

He slowly starts to live life freely without the restrictions that were put around his thoughts.

Gabriel has an even stranger relationship with Adrien now because he still loves him in a way but also holds resentment toward him. But mostly he sees him as something valuable.

The show happens here…  And now finally we get to the comic…

Gabriel gets a hold of the ladybug and black cat miraculouses. (There’s no epic fight in his lair as you see there’s no Ladybug in the comic but that’s not really important)

What’s important is that Gabriel had deciphered the miraculous spellbook with the help of Emilie’s notes and had decided to use the unification’s “wish” power to awaken Emilie.

He’s aware he’ll need to sacrifice something for the wish to come true and he’s certain Adrien should be enough because the soul inside him is literally the one thing Emilie is missing.

✨Adrien (poor boy just lost his miraculous) is taken to Gabriel’s lair, where he finds out his father is Hawk Moth, sees his mother, learns he’s a sentimonster, and that he’s going to become a sacrifice ✨

Of course the last part is not what happens. It’s Gabriel who ends up being sacrificed.

I can’t decide if Gabriel ends up sacrificing himself because he changed his mind in the last moment while Adrien was screaming for him to stop, OR  because he didn’t love Adrien enough for him to be considered an equal exchange for his wife… O.O

But anyhow…

Emilie wakes up with Gabriel’s soul within her (hence the bluish gray eyes in the comic).

Adrien is traumatized for life.

This took me hours to write… I knew there was a reason why I didn’t want to do it. I hope I didn’t forget anything and my brain made sense of it all

Well there you have it, peeps. The Pinocchio AU. It’s as messed up as my sleep schedule. Good night. 

[lansyuan]

do you love fics where wei wuxian and lan wangji parent the crap out of lan sizhui? do you want to read accidental baby acquisition fics until your eyes bleed? would you die as your heart slowly turns to mush from the softness of this family? bitch the fuck, me too. here are some of my personal favourite fics of wangxian ft their turnip son a-yuan. its a range of canon divergence, post canon, thirteen years of inquiry, raising a-yuan at the burial mounds au etc - there’ll be something for literally everyone. enjoy!

the kite string and the anchor rope by fleurdeliser (38k+)

When A-Yuan gets sick and Wen Qing doesn't have the supplies she needs to properly treat him, Wei Wuxian can only think of one place to go for help. 

a crying shame by thunderwear (16k+)

Lan Wangji gets emotionally blackmailed by a toddler. It somehow fixes everything.

to recollect and long for by wonderlands (22k+) *2/3 works posted at time of posting this rec list.

a 3-part series about best boy lan sizhui and his wonderful dads who love him and each other very much.

forgetting envies, remembering your loving hold by cosmicfuss (3k+)

The first time Zewu-jun plays for him he is five and the man is trying to comfort him, playing soft songs good for soothing children. It works to a degree but he wants his gege, he wants his gege to play his lullaby. Zewu-jun apologizes and tells him that his gege is hurting right now, and needs to be alone to get better.

When he plays the xiao, A-Yuan says, "you're holding it wrong!" When he turns fourteen, he learns to play guqin, and is many years ahead of his classmates in that regard. A large factor in that is how much he has practiced Inquiry. He has grown up hearing snippets from the jingshi, of Wangji attempting to reach a spirit that never answers.

When he's sixteen, he hears a familiar tune played in the forest, he and his fellow juniors battling a stone god. It's been years since he's heard it, and he wonders why this man, Mo Xuanyu, knows it so well.

Or, Lan Sizhui grows up and learns, and remembers.

five times wei wuxian tried to embarrass lan sizhui by blackelement7 (6k+)

(and one time he realized just how badly he'd played himself)

or: In which Wei Wuxian starts a fight but Lan Sizhui (with some meddling from Lan Jingyi) ends it.

inquiry by incendir (10k+)

Sizhui cannot fall asleep for a long, long time that night. He hears the ever-familiar melody again. He thinks perhaps he has memorized it by now.

storge by respira (9k+)

Lan Sizhui is a lake.

as the warren grows in number by kore_fics (3k+)

Before Sizhui could take another step he was surrounded by black and red, loud laughter in his ears and warm fingers running through his hair, messing it up. Palms squished both his cheeks together and Lan Sizhui let out a laugh.

Lan Sizhui was home.

tell some storm* by qurbat (31k+) *the moments with Sizhui are in chapter 2, however I highly recommend reading the whole fic, it’s adorable.

"We were raised as a generation of war, A-Yuan," Xian-gege said to him. "If your generation choses to be one of love - well, I don't think any of us would be opposed to that."

In the aftermath of the events at the Guanyin temple, the cultivation world scrambles to understand their current reality. A man roams the countryside with a string of white in his hair. Another sits on the highest seat of power with a ribbon of red around his forehead. The younger generation turns out to be full of romantics. Nie Huaisang is to blame for everything, always. Jiang Cheng realizes that happiness has been more that 16 years overdue.

Wei Wuxian declares that it's time that bitch pays up.

After a generation of war - much to the consternation of the elders, much to the delight of the young, much to the pleased shock of the subjects of the tale - the world welcomes a love story with open arms.

guess we're not eating leaves today by missingnarwhal (2k+)

Baby A-Yuan has cooked up a feast, but only one lucky gege will actually get to taste it!

Set in an alternate timeline where everything is okay after Wei Ying + Wens started living in the Burial Mounds.

response by aki_no_hikari (12k+)

What if Wei Wuxian hadn't been silent to Lan Wangji's Inquiry?

love, in all its small pieces by ynvel (4k+)

Ah Yuan is brought to the Cloud Recesses and exchanges the sun and its ashes for the clouds. Lan Wangji brings a boy home, calls him his son, and renews the promises he made.

Or: Lan Sizhui is adopted by Lan Wangji and learns about his new life. Lan Wangji in turn learns about hope and living again.

child surprise by ariaste (4k+)

He huffs a sigh. “Fine. Just - let’s just make it the law of surprise, shall we? That’s nice and simple, eh? Leave it up to destiny what will bring us back in balance. Let it drop something of yours into my lap, something small, and we’ll call the debt paid.”

Three debts, three repayments.

there's a lunatic in mo village by bastetcg (11k+)

There's a lunatic in Mo Village! And to Lan Sizhui's surprise, Hanguang-Jun has decided to bring the madman back to the Cloud Recesses! How embarrassing!

A mostly canon-compliant look into Lan Sizhui's thoughts and childhood.

on being a big boy by emberloey (1k+)

“My little A-Yuan,” Dad had said the next morning, kneeling down to A-Yuan’s height with a smile, “all grown up now. Soon you’ll be hunting without your poor old dads.”

“Never!” A-Yuan shook his head and latched onto Father’s leg. He smiled up at Father, who smiled back and nodded his head. “A-Yuan always needs Dad and Father!”

in all these shades of blue (i think we found you) by fleetling (5k+)

5 times Sizhui thought about his father's white robes, and 1 time Lan Wangji wore blue.

(Or: Lan Sizhui had never seen his father in anything other than white robes.)

this is when the feeling sinks in, i don't want to miss you like this (come back, be here) by mischievousmurmurs (6k+)

Just now… the butterflies’ conversation. Where did you learn that from, Ah-Yuan?

Ah-Yuan pats his chest. In here, shushu. I feel it in here. And in here, too, he adds, pointing to his head.

Sizhui has never quite been able to remember nor forget the memory of seeing people who he knows loved each other, loved him, and whom he loved in return.

or - a wangxian story, as told by their adopted son.

yours, mine, and ours by casecous (2k+)

When they have both mostly recovered, and A-Yuan is back to his smiling, playful self, Lan Wangji presents him with a forehead ribbon. A-Yuan’s little fingers bump into Lan Wangji’s thumbs as he traces the cloud motif along it.

“You are Lan now. This is very important,” Lan Wangji tells him and A-Yuan looks away from the ribbon to meet his eyes. “You must not take it off as you please. Only family may touch it.”

A series of wangxian family moments.

innocence by snowberryrose (8k+)

In which Wei WuXian gets to raise A-Yuan.

Canon divergence from episode 31.

to recollect and long for by mme_anxious (4k+)

Lan Xichen is there when his brother becomes a father. Lan Sizhui is there when his father's heart breaks, again. Wei Wuxian is there when his son gets drunk for the first time.

Or, the GusuLan forehead ribbon, in three parts.

our little one by writedeku (6k+)

A-Yuan is here. A-Yuan, who Wei Ying loved so much. A-Yuan, who was taught to laugh just like him. Wangji hugs him to his chest and curls over him, ignoring the way the wounds on his back pull and tear. “I have to take care of you,” he says. “I will not leave you.”

(Or: Lan Wangji comes back from Yiling with a child he does not know how to care for and a black hole in his chest. Somehow, he makes it work.)

gathered herbs & sweet grasses by hansbekhart (19k+)

Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.

the sacred homeland by particulate (8k+)

He has many names, and some are mouthfuls of blood.

[Or; a chronology of Sizhui, in which he does not forget.]

to the act of making noise by words-writ-in-starlight (19k+)

His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.

Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.

when he comes home to you by kika988 (2k+)

Home is Cloud Recesses now, and that's a thing Wei Wuxian is still getting used to. He still feels like a guest here, most days, though Lan Wangji has done everything to make him feel at home. He stands out like a sore thumb amongst the serene disciples and flowing white fabric.

Cloud Recesses has been home to Lan Wangji and Sizhui for years. It is their home, where they've built their family.

The thought warms Wei Wuxian even as it sits a little ill with him. He's an intruder here, in their homes, in their lives, the same way he had been in Lotus Pier.

five times people didn’t know sizhui is lan zhan’s son and one time they did by trilliastra (3k+)

“A-Yuan.” He repeats, reaching out for the boy, growing restless when he can’t touch him. “A-Yuan.”

Oh. Lan Xichen closes his eyes as the tears start to fall. Oh, Wangji.

Carefully, Lan Xichen takes the boy and lays him next to his brother on the bed, Wangji holds him protectively against his chest and A-Yuan stops his little cries immediately.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen tries again, running a hand through his brother’s hair softly, “who is he?”

“He’s my son.”

5 times the lan head disciple broke the rules by liji (6k+)

“I am not aware of any rule forbidding falling in love,” Hanguang-Jun said at last. There was a quiet sadness in his eye, like he was watching a scene from far away. The novelty of it gave Sizhui the courage to ask his next question.

“Have you ever been in love, Father?” he asked.

(or, five times that Sizhui broke the Lan sect's rules growing up)

the seasons change (but i love you the same) by kdkdkd (7k+)

"Hanguang-jun!"

When did you stop calling me Bàba, A-Yuan?

Lan Wangji had always promised himself that he would never become a poor father like his own had been.

Unfortunately, it feels like he has failed to keep that promise.

✨ bonus round ✨ uncle jiang cheng and nephew lan sizhui

tintinnabulum by respira (8k+)

A small bell chimes, the sound soft and pleasant like the water crashing against a pier, like low whistles in an empty cave, like a guqin playing a lullaby.

[skellebonez]

OKAY SKELLE I HAVE NARROWED DOWN MY SELECTION TO 3 ONCE AGAIN 2(I don’t think I can do this anymore.), 44(Why are you still awake?) and 45(You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child.) For lace's spider monkey au with mk and SQ?

Does this fit into the timeline for @strange-lace 's Spider Monkie AU? Almost certainly not, so consider this a non-canon “What If?” side story. But the instant I re-read this prompt after leaving it in my drafts I was hit with a wave of inspiration and I just... I gotta ride it. It was too good to pass it up.

Why are you still awake?/I don’t think I can do this anymore./You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child.

If she hadn’t been awake Spider Queen would have never realized there was an intruder in her lair at this hour of night. The steps she heard earlier had been so soft, too fast to be human but too quiet to from any of the mechanical legs of her closest companions.

Which meant...

“What are you doing back here at this hour, my little prince?” She asked, tone as soft as she could manage to not scare the smaller person curled up on the floor of her lair.

That didn’t stop her son, MK, from tensing up and curling more into himself for a moment in his full form awkwardly. Spiders weren’t usually supposed to curl up the way humans did, and in an attempt to do so he just looked like he was folding himself in half. Painfully so.

“I didn’t think you’d be up, mom...” He said, uncurling just enough for Spider Queen to catch a glimpse of his red puffy eyes. “Why are you still awake? I just wanted to... calm down a bit.”

“Me being up is not important. What happened?” Spider Queen asked, laying her hand on MK’s shoulder gently. He leaned into the touch, making the queen smile softly. “C’mon. You don’t have to tell me everything, just enough.”

“I just...” MK started, swallowing tightly and ducking his head so that his hair fell over his eyes again as he thought of a response. “I don’t know... I don’t think I can do this anymore. This... living two lives stuff.”

“What do you mean?” Spider Queen asked, reaching out to gently put her hand under his chin and guide his face to look at hers. No force, just a soft push that he leaned into. “You know you can talk to me. Did something happen?”

“K-kinda?” MK let out a half laugh, one his his hands reaching up to pull at his hair. “I... I almost slipped up today. I let my glamour down without thinking. Because I just...” He breathed in shakily, pulling at his hair slightly. “I was... I felt...”

“Safe,” Spider Queen finished for him, reaching out to gently pull his fingers from his hair and run her own through it. She pulled him closer, letting his forehead rest on her shoulder as he hugged her tight. “You're scared because you felt safe?”

“I panicked,” MK said, relaxing more as Spider Queen wrapped her arms around her son. “I didn’t mean to do it, I just started my routine for when I get home when I was somewhere else and realized what I was doing and then I ran out and couldn’t think of anywhere else to go so I came here and... my friends probably think I’m so weird for doing that.”

“Didn’t you say you liked your friends because they were a little weird?” Spider Queen said with a chuckle, pulling away and gently guiding MK to stand back up and face her. “Everything you’ve told me about them makes them sound wonderful. Why would they think less of you for needing to leave suddenly?”

“Well... I guess...” MK started, worrying his bottom lip as he thought. “I don’t... know?”

“Then they probably don’t. Do you remember what I told you when you asked me if you could live among the humans?” Spider Queen said softly, reaching out again and making sure her fingers never caught on the knots in her child’s hair too long as she brushed the messy locks away from his face.

“Wash all your vegetables properly?”

Spider Queen couldn’t help but laugh, cradling MK’s face in her hands as she took a good look at his face.

“I trust you to take care of yourself,” she corrected softly, letting him so to gesture to all of him. “And from what I see right now, you’ve been doing a pretty good job exceeding that trust in every way. Even coming here just to calm down shows you’re taking care of yourself. You’re doing fine. You can do this.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so,” Spider Queen said firmly, undoing the brushing of his hair by ruffling it roughly. She chuckled as the action earned her a proper laugh as he flailed his hands at hers to shoo them away. “You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child. And as my child I know that you can do so much more than you think you can. You’re doing fine, MK.”

And the way his face lit up at that... Spider Queen would never stop loving the way he lit up in joy like that.

“Thanks... Hey, Mom? I uh...”

Her son reached down to grab the end of his shirt before his hands clenched and twisted around it. Something she’d seen him do ever since he was a child, before with his old clothing and even a little baseball bat Huntsman had once brought down to him.

“Actually, I was going to tell you this tomorrow, but... I think I’m... No, after what happened today I know I’m almost ready to show the others who I am,” MK said with a soft smile. “Not right now! And not everyone, just my friends I told you about. And you all too! I know I need to be careful but I trust them and-”

“Alright,” Spider Queen said, her own smile widening at the surprised expression on the young spiderling’s face. “If you trust them, really trust them, then I’ll trust your trust in turn. You almost showed them today without thinking, you wouldn’t do that if you didn’t trust them after all.”

It had been an agreement set in stone long before she let him leave the lair for his own life top side. “Don’t reveal your true form until you know you can trust someone, and don’t show us your disguise unless you must.”

The logic was that it was for a double sided protection. Spider Queen knew her son, knew he was trained since he was a little toddler by Huntsman to protect himself. He knew how to use poison and knives and anything he could reach and break to protect himself. She had no fear of them accidentally attacking him in disguise, completely different form and voice or not, because she had full faith that he would be able to protect himself. And if he felt that he couldn’t all he would have to do is shift back.

But if they knew who he was in his human disguise, knew who to not attack as drastically or to avoid, she feared that other demons may catch on. May realize that he had a connection to the spider demons and seek him out that way. And she was so afraid at the time that even with his training he wouldn’t be able to fight so many who would wish to harm her through him.

That was different now. He had a mentor, though he wouldn’t tell her who specifically. It wasn’t his boss, the man who had given him a place to live, that much she did know. But this mentor had been helping him grow stronger and, apparently, was one of the only two people who knew who he really was on both sides. She didn’t know who the other was, just that he was an enemy turned “frenemy” after his discovery.

The worry never left the back of her mind when she learned about the accidental reveals. Always living with the worry the frenemy would turn on her son, that his mentor would decide he was too dangerous to teach anymore. But none of those worries had come to pass so far.

Because he trusted them and because of her trust in MK... she could trust his judgement now.

“When do you want to do this?”

“During the Lunar New Year festival,” MK answered confidently. “We have a couple months to get ready and I probably have to help my boss during it so I can show them before the fireworks. I-!” He stopped at the sound of his phone ringing, grabbing it from his pocket before grimacing and turning back. “I have to get back, I’m sorry! I love you, mom!”

“L-love you too, MK.”

And then he was gone, rushing off in a burst of typical MK excitement. If he saw Spider Queen tense at his declaration and heard her stutter he made no indication of it.

She felt... guilty. Not telling him of her plans. But she couldn’t tell him the truth. Not yet.

She trusted her son. She did. Knew he could handle himself. But there were people out there so much worse, stronger and more dangerous, than the humans and weaker demons he lived among. She needed to protect him from those who would harm him to get to her. She wouldn’t stop trying to protect him. Not now.

Not until she made sure the world was safe for him.

And the world would not be safe until she eliminated Sun Wukong and his damned apprentice.

She would have to thank the Monkie Kid for giving her just what she needed to protect her son. Just before she dealt with him for good.

[chaeiimimi]

04 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔 𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖞

Summary: you weren’t really sure how it happened, but an average student who wore glasses and spent all her extra time on bookstores and library managed to date your school’s volleyball club setter. On your 3rd year of law school, your ten years anniversary to be exact, he went home from Argentina and it was a week before he was going back, he broke up with you with the reason of he can’t handle long-distance relationship anymore despite being at it for two years. You didn’t cry, you stood there as he was sobbing in front of you, you held his face in your palms and offered him a gentle smile, gentle enough to let him know you’ll support him and will always be watching him, together with the child in your stomach right now, but he doesn’t need to know that.

chapters: prev / next

the ride home was rather tensed, nobody was speaking, your minds were all filled with worries

you were staring out the car window mindlessly, Aki was biting her lips to relieve some stress and Iwa was just one line away from exceeding speed limit 

after what felt like the longest car ride of your lives, you three scrambled out of the car and your father was already waiting for you by the door, you greeted him and immediately went inside to look for your son who’s crying was heard throughout the house 

you entered your old room and saw that your mom was carrying Hayato and Haruto was on the crib, holding on to it’s side while standing almost like he knows that his twin was sick, he was just looking at your mom with sad eyes

you approached Haruto first and gave him a kiss, he looks at you with his brown eyes which was now filled with tears, Haruto wasn’t a loud crier, he was always silent

“poor baby you must be worried about your brother” you gave Haruto another kiss before approaching Hayato

your mother immediately handed him to you

she was right he was burning with a fever, he stopped crying when he was on your arms which relieved your heart a little bit

“hello baby, don’t cry mommy’s here” you spoke to him and smiled

“ma, have you given him medicine?” you asked your mother

“no, It’s his first time getting sick maybe he has allergies” your mom answered

“maybe a cold pack then?” you suggested

“we don’t have-”

“I’ll buy it for you” right then Iwaizumi showed up with Aki 

you mumbled a “thank you” and he immediately began to walk out to drive to the pharmacy 

Aki entered and played with Haruto 

“ma, you should get some rest, you’re attending a wedding tomorrow right?” you urged your mom to sleep

“don’t be silly, as if I’ll leave my grandsons for a wedding” she says and starts cleaning up the room

“ma don’t worry, I’ll bring the boys to the hospital tomorrow morning, you should sleep aunt is expecting you to show up tomorrow” 

your mother sighed knowing that she doesn’t have a choice “alright, I’ll prepare the guest room for Akira and Hajime” 

thus, you didn’t get a lot of sleep, constantly waking up to check Hayato’s temperature and Haruto (even though he doesn’t have a fever), Aki also checks up on you every two hours to see if you’re doing well, helping you wipe Hayato’s body and changing cooling pads

“Aki you should sleep, you have a shoot tomorrow, I got this”

your bestfriend nod stifling a yawn “just knock on my door if you need something”

the next morning, you went home to your house and prepared to take the twins to the doctor, Akira and Iwaizumi went to his place, Akira prepared to go to the shoot while Iwaizumi was preparing to go to the MSBY’s gym 

what he didn’t expect was for Oikawa to greet him at the entrance of the gym, the emotions in his face remained the same

he knows his bestfriend, and he knows why he’s here

“Iwa” Oikawa called for him

“hey” he greeted back

“you know fully well why I’m here Iwa, please tell me what’s going on” 

in the course of two years, the last time he saw his bestfriend with the same look in his eyes was after your break-up

“I’m not sure I’m the right person to tell you about this, I promised Y/N not to tell you anything, but she’s at the hospital, Dr. XXXXXXX’s clinic, you should go ask her yourself” 

Oikawa nodded and immediately went to his car and drive to you

“you don’t have to worry Miss it’s quite common for toddlers to have fevers when growing teeth, if his fever gets any higher, I can prescribe a paracetamol, as for Haruto here, he is growing teeth but it seems like he didn’t have a fever, your sons are both healthy babies” 

the heavy weight on your heart and shoulders were taken away by the doctor’s statement

“thank you so much doc” 

you exited the clinic much happier when you entered, but that glee on your heart immediately turned into something much more complicated  was it fear?

how can you not be afraid if the father of your sons is standing in front of you, an unreadable expression plastered on his face

“we need to talk” was the only thing he said 

you meekly nodded

you knew this day was going to come eventually but you didn’t expect it to be so soon 

Oikawa’s eyes landed on the babies inside the stroller, and there was no doubt, it was his alright 

“what’s their names?” he asked

“Haruto and Hayato” you answered

“are they-” 

“let’s talk about this at home, Hayato has a fever” 

he nods and leads you to the car taking the stroller away from you and push it himself 

CBSJCBJDVNCJKS i’m so sorry for another cliffhanger, my finals are coming up and my brain is filled with numbers. I hope you still like this chapter. If you want a tag just send me an ask on my ask box, a dm, or a comment <3

comments and reblogs are appreciated <3<3<3

taglist:

@heiressofravka @artsamber @seashellmichellee @meri-soni-meri-tamanna​

[jamilelucato]

Your Embrace

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Requests:

1. @witchglow​ hey love! congratulations on your followers! 🥺💗 can i request fred weasley x reader on which they are on the grimmauld place is not have beds for all so they have to share the bed, then they end up hugging or something like and the other day they wait and are super embarrassed, but in the end the two admit that they can share the bed whenever they want (im sorry if it got confused 😿) thank u, stay safe 💗😼💖

2. @whizbangs-78​ congrats on 1.5k followers!!! could i request a fred weasley x reader with the one bed trope pleaseee??? thank youuu c: also if you're requests for this are closed feel free to ignore thank youu c: congrats on the milestone, again!!

A/N: since the requests were very similar, I decided to combine both of them, hope you two like it! again, I can’t seem to write short fics.

Send a request! ||  Harry Potter Masterlist ||  Musical Hogwarts Series

It was late in the night when Professor McGonagall fetched you and all of the Weasleys to go to Dumbledore so you could all take a Portkey back to Grimmauld Place. The Professor said something had happened with Arthur Weasley; so all of his children, you and Harry were taken away from Hogwarts. 

It wasn’t the protocol getting you to travel too, but since you were awake when Professor McGonagall showed up in a hurry and told you to fetch Ginny, you managed to convince McGonagall that you would’ve to come with the Weasleys.

When finally there, nobody was able to stay still. 

Fred and George were desperately trying to convince someone to take them to St. Mungo’s, even though Sirius repeated that it was not the smartest thing to do. The best was waiting inside of the House of Black even if it was not easy.

You noticed Fred and George weren’t going to let Sirius have a moment of peace — if there could be one at this point — so you requested a tour around the place since it was your first time there.

Reluctantly, Fred and George walked you around the house.

“He’s gonna be alright, come on; you both know it,” you said while walking through some sort of music room — it had a piano at least. “Your dad’s tough.”

George sighed but remained in silence. It was Fred that spoke.

“You can’t be sure of that. ”

You sat down in the piano, running your fingers carelessly over the musical instrument. Thankfully, the sound that came of that wasn’t loud.

“I can’t, you’re right,” you lamented, gulping.

Fred and George stared at themselves — they were in opposite corners of the room — and then they looked down at you in the piano stool.

“Sorry I was rude,” gasped Fred, stepping closer to you.

He was already taller than you, but with you sitting, the difference started to actually hurt your neck.

You shrugged in response. Fred knew you weren’t mad at him, he didn’t need to hear you say it. However, for just a second, he gazed down at you, locked in your eyes. Those moments were happening with more frequency, and that kinda worried him. He was sure he was being too obvious, and you would soon realize you saw him as more than just friends.

But you were too worried about your own obviousness towards fancying Fred to notice he liked you as well.

George looked around the room, trying really hard to not make a sound and interrupt the moment. He knew how much his twin fancied you. He suspected you desired Fred too, but he wasn’t sure yet.

You fake coughed, totally ruining the moment on purpose. Gosh, if Fred finds out I like him, he’ll never talk to me again, you thought, turning to face the piano.

“Do you guys know how to play?” you asked, running your fingers over it once again.

Fred and George exchanged looks before bursting in laughter.

“Do you take us for pianists?” George asked back before laughing again.

You should have paid more attention — they seriously didn’t look like musicians. Even so, you three squizzed yourselves in the one stool and attempted to produce music. Each of the twins sat in one of your sides, and you had to concentrate a lot to act normal with Fred’s proximity. You two were practically breathing the same air. 

George’s here too, you freak, you thought, biting your inner cheek.

At ten past five in the morning, after a dozen attempts to play Für Elise — you three couldn’t even pass the third note —, Mrs Weasley stopped by the house.

As soon as Fred and George heard the doo, they jumped out of the stool.

“ ‘S gotta be mum,” said Fred. All the calm he had gained with playing the piano with you disappeared.

“Let’s see her,” said George and they walked away of the music room without waiting for you.

You sighed, closing the piano fallboard before getting up and heading out. 

Of course, you were worried about their father, but you were also very, very tired. They were sleeping when the Professor fetched them, but you had been wide awake by the fireplace trying to finish a book you were desperate to know the end. Now, you couldn’t care less.

When you got to the kitchen, Ginny, Harry, Ron, Fred and George were around Mrs Wealsey, analyzing every word she had to say.

“We can all go and see him later,” she finished saying. It was probably a phrase that had started before you got downstairs, but there was no need to hear more — if they could go see him, it meant he’d be alright.

Fred turned his face around, looking for you, and when he found your eyes, he pressed his lips together tightly. It was his way of saying he was sorry again because you actually turned out to be correct.

“Oh, y/N, my dear, I didn’t know you were here too,” said Mrs Weasley, interrupting your discreet moment with Fred.

“Yeah,” you said, having no idea of what to say beyond that. It was weird and unexpected your presence there. Not even Hermione was there, and she was always around Ron.

You didn’t spend much time with the whole Weasley family; just Hogwarts time with Fred and George. Sometimes, you’d share trips to Hogsmeade with Ginny, but that was it.

“The more, the merrier!” said Sirius, getting up from his chair with a tender smile.

“Sure hope you think that, Sirius, ‘cause we might stay for Christmas,” said Mrs Weasley, clenching her jaw.

Sirius chuckled. “If you promise to cook.”

“Of course!” smiled Mrs Weasley, and Ginny giggled in the back.

Breakfast was served, and it was weird eating it before having slept, but nobody seemed to care. It wasn’t as good as Hogwarts’ feasts, but you didn’t mind. The fact that you were actually there — headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, organization you only heard Fred and George mention — made the details unimportant.

“You five should sleep after eating,” said Mrs Weasley, who was up behind the chairs where Fred and George were sitting. “We can visit your dad later.”

Fred seemed about to protest when his mom touched his shoulder softly, but it was a clear warning for her son to not complain, and so, Fred shut.

Harry joined some minutes later, after a long conversation with Sirius Black — who was, to you, an honour to meet. You knew that, although the Ministry was painting him as a villain, he could only be pure of heart, so much Harry spoke well of the man.

“Fred, honey, would you mind sharing your bed with George?” asked Mrs Wealsey when she noticed that her boys had finish eating. “There won’t be an extra bed for y/N, I’m afraid.”

Fred snorted, annoyed, and said: “Mum, George can’t sleep still; you know how much he moves around!”

George didn’t even bother being offended — he knew his twin was telling the truth.

Mrs Weasley puckered her forehead, thinking an alternative through. Ginny couldn’t share the bed with you — the youngest Weasley had already gotten upstairs to her bed and was probably deep sleeping right now. Ron was never pleased with sharing, and she would never bother Harry, who was being a dear just help Arthur Weasley being rescued.

“I suppose you and y/N could share it then,” said Mrs Weasley, noticing that was her only option left. She concluded you and Fred would be too tired to try anything under her nose. She was only half right about that, though. “Take my bed that is bigger in the other room, and I take your single.”

George sighed with the thought of sleeping in the same room with his mom like a toddler.

You and Fred, on the other hand, couldn’t stand to look at each other. Every time you tried, you would feel your cheeks turning red, and you would look away.

However, neither of you complained to Mrs Weasley about it, scared to lose an opportunity to be closer to each other. After helping with the dishes, you both headed, side by side, to the mentioned room.

Fred cleared his throat as you lay with your bellies up, taking extreme care not to touch each other.

“Thanks for earlier, with the music and all. It was a great distraction,” Fred said, turning just enough to see your face.

Oh, how gorgeous she is! he thought.

Your hair loose over the pillow, his big hands rested over his abdomen, your faces blushed with the closeness... 

You turned to face Fred before replying. “My mum used to play me songs in our guitar back through the first war,” you said, biting your inside cheek, suddenly embarrassed fo sharing such a personal memory. 

Fred knew that your father had died in the first war, you two had talked about it before. But it was never something that caused you pain — you were much too young when he died. It was the days when growing up, seeing the neighbours’ kids with their fathers and you having only your mom — that was when it started hurting. And that was when your mom started playing music to calm you.

“I find it quite relaxing,” you said.

“I sure was relaxed with you,” Fred said before blushing, ashamed with his unexpected confession. 

You gulped, unsure of what to say or do. You decided it was best to remain silent because Fred probably felt relaxed with all of his friends.

There was nothing left to be said, and Fred really needed to sleep if he wanted to see his father later, so you returned to your first position — facing the ceiling. You never knew, but, without your eyes staring deep into his, he was finally able to fall asleep.

On the other hand, it took you a couple more minutes to travel to the dreamland. Knowing that Fred was closer than ever before made you feel more awake than if you had slept all day. Of course, that was just a false sensation your subconscious tricked you with — soon, you were sleeping too.

“Come on, love birds! Mum wants us to come now!” yelled a voice, pulling the blankets away from you.

“Be more gentle, George,” advised another voice.

“Come on, you two!” shouted the male voice again.

It toom you a couple of seconds to finally open your eyes and take a glimpse of who owned the voices that were disturbing the most peaceful nap you had ever gotten.

Ginny stared at you with a wan smile while George held in one of his hands the cosy blanket that was once over you. But their faces were hiding something, and it was just when George smirked to you that you decided to sit up.

Fred was thinking of doing the exact same thing as you, but he was having more trouble with it since you were practically all over him.

Yeah, that’s right.

The cosiness and warmness didn’t come from the blanket — it came from Fred Weasley.

He was still laying with his belly up, but over his abdomen, you had arranged yourself, in some sort of embrace or hug. So, obviously, you blushed right away — your whole face redder than the Weasleys’ hair.

Fred was blushing too, but since you had hidden your face over your pillow — the exact one you clearly didn’t use to sleep — you weren’t able to see.

“Get out,” he muttered with grinding teeth. George pretended to be angry and walked away, tossing the blanket over the bed with no caution. Ginny took one last glimpse around before whispering for you two to not be late.

Fred sighed before taking the pillow over your head.

“They’re gone,” he said with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry for... well, wherever was that. I probably am a sleepwalker or something; I swear I didn’t place myself over your chest on purpose,” you said, biting your lip and facing him with hope in your eyes — hope that he would believe you were not a maniac.

Fred wished you had done that on purpose because that had been the most comfortable he had ever felt in a bed.

“Don’t worry about it. Sorry about my siblings,” he said, finally getting up. “I’m gonna see my mum and make sure we’re going to St. Mungo’s too.”

“We?” you echoed the word out loud, but he had already left the room, and so, he didn’t hear.

You were planning on going with the Weasleys, sure, but you didn’t know they wanted you there as well. Well, at least Fred did.

You gave Fred a few minutes to get downstairs before you. When you got there, everybody seemed to be waiting just for you.

“Sorry for not waking you up earlier, dear. You both looked so relaxed,” said Mrs Weasley, stepping towards you. She held you by your shoulders. “I prepared both of you sandwiches, so you can eat faster.”

She let your shoulders go and grabbed one sandwich over the table — the second one was already half-eaten by Fred Weasley in the other corner of the kitchen. You were too embarrassed thinking that even Molly saw you hugging Fred in your sleep to say something other than thank you.

“Your trunks are here too,” the woman mentioned, with a small smile. Fred finished his sandwich, so you hurried to finish yours. “Tonks? Mad-Eye?”

With Mrs Weasley calling, both of the mentioned walked in the kitchen and Ginny rushed to Tonks, hugging her tightly.

“Nymphadora?” you asked, almost choking on the last bite. The short pink hair was the essential clue for you to connect the surname to the person. You just didn’t call Tonks Tonks, it was a childish habit, but it was unforgettable.

“Don’t call me...! Hey, it’s you!” exclaimed Tonks, as soon as Ginny freed her and ran to your side, hugging you. “You grew up, Merlin!”

You let out a hearty laugh while struggling to breath. Tonks finally freed you, but still stayed by your side. You knew each other because you were neighbours for a while, and often your mother alone could not take care of you — Nymphadora always offered (for a sickle a day) to babysit.

If it was up for you and Tonks, you’d have stayed the day talking, but Mrs Weasley kindly reminded there was a place you needed to be. 

The trip to St.Mungo’s was, to say the least, embarrassing. Every time Fred would lock eyes with you, your cheeks would turn red, and it felt like everyone knew how you too slept. Together, tightly, legs intertwine... Yeah, you had to fight yourself to not remember those things.

Thankfully, you and Tonks got a minute to talk when the family walked in with Harry to see Arthur Weasley. She told you everything about her job and how she liked to now be a part of the Order. “Sure Dumbledore will ask you to join when you come of age,” she even mentioned with a nudge of shoulders. 

The Weasleys trooped back into the corridor. Tonks glanced at you, but she already knew you weren’t going to come in, so she went in with Mad-Eye and closed the door behind them. Fred raised his eyebrows towards you — he wasn’t seriously expecting you had something to talk with his father, right? — but then George suggested to listen behind the door, and everybody was distracted for a moment.

After that espionage, Harry Potter started acting odd as ever, but definitely not more than you and Fred. Ginny and George would look from Fred to you, and then they would giggle. Somehow, that was making matters worse.

Back at the headquarters, things still weren’t easy.

“Ginny, would you mind sleeping with y/N?” whispered Mrs Weasley in what she hoped was a tone you wouldn’t hear, but you did. You stepped away as quickly as you had stepped in, and turned around, desperately trying not to overhear that conversation.

So Fred asked to not sleep with you again. That was presumable but still unpleasant. 

Ron asked for your help to decorate the house for Christmas, and you accepted gladly, hoping the task would take your mind out of Fred.

Ron was worried about Harry — he seemed to think whatever Harry heard Mad-Eye talk upset him. You agreed and added that Ron should just give Harry some time, without pushing him.

Ginny joined to help, and as soon as Ron went to the back to get a stair, Ginny rushed to your side and elbowed you.

“So, don’t know if you heard, but I told mum I wouldn’t sleep with you,” she said with a smile.

You almost dropped the ornament in your hand.

“Sorry?”

“So you can sleep with Fred again, duh!” she kept the smile on.

“Hm, Ginny, I’m pretty sure your brother doesn’t want that to happen again,” you said, avoiding to look at her happy face. “He asked your mum to change the place I was sleeping in.”

“What? No, y/N! Where did you get that idea? Mum’s the one trying to part you too,” Ginny laughed at your ridiculousness. “She thinks you two are secretly dating and she can’t let ‘Fred make her a grandma so early’.’’

Your eyes widened as you slowly turned to face Ginny, but first making sure no other Weasley was around.

“Her words, not mine,” added Ginny quickly and she burst into laughter staring at your silly face.

“Good Lord. I hope you corrected her about my relationship with Fred,” you sighed, pressing a hand over your heart. “I completely forgot she had gotten a glimpse at us this morning,” you whispered, just to yourself really.

“Why would I correct her? He wants you, you want him. Just a matter of time ’til she’s right” said Ginny and she started running away from you because the face you made was positively scary.

When decorations were up, and Christmas spirit was finally in the house, it was already time for bed again. Fred and George had gotten upstairs before you because you pretended to be really interested in Mrs Weasley’s knitting. The truth was you didn’t want to face Fred again.

You sighed, giving up in your fight. You should face Fred once and for all. Speak the truth, walk away and sleep in the couch downstairs.

But when you got into the room, and you saw his face, you just froze. He was laying on the bed with his belly up and his eyes closed — for a moment, you thought he was sleeping, but then his breathing wouldn’t be completely unregulated.

“Fred?” your voice was too high, and you ended up scaring him. He jumped up, sitting down immediately. “Sorry,” you muttered, sitting down in front of him.

You both breathed hard. Fred seemed to want to say something, but you would never know because you interrupted his half-open mouth with yours.

You kissed him in a rashed and inexperience way, after all, he didn’t expect that. And, honestly, neither did you.

Fred suspected that either you would ignore him forever and pretend that the nap shared in an embrace never happened or that you would hit him and kick him out of the room. Feeling your lips on his was a more fanciful idea than any he has ever had.

It took Fred a little while to get rid of the shock, but when he realized that you were kissing him because you wanted to, he gave in, pulling you by your waist and sitting you over his lap. He smirked in the middle of the kiss, causing you to let a slight giggle out. Your hands went from his cheekbone to his hair, and you played with it with pleasure.

“If I knew the way to your heart was napping with you, I’d have done it sooner,” Fred whispered, breathing hard when your lips were away from his.

You smiled, “you got to my heart way before you slept with me, Fred Weasley.”

He squeezed your waist, pushing you away just enough so he could see your face. You blushed when your eyes met.

“Good to know that,” he smiled too. “ ‘Cause I’ve been thinking all day that you were ignoring me, that you hated me... ”

“I thought you were ignoring me!”

You two giggled at your stupidy.

“Sorry for kissing you out of nowhere,” you sighed, slowly placing your hands on his shoulders.

“You are welcomed to do it anytime you want,” he said, looking down to your lap still over his.

“Like now?” you smirked too. “Because I feel we lost too much time sleeping today...”

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking exactly the same thing,” he susurrated and smirked, pulling you closer to his chest and kissing you harder than before.

And this time was just perfect.

__

Bonus:

“So how was last night?” Ginny asked as soon as you steeped in the kitchen the next morning.

You could have stayed in bed curled in Fred forever — you sure wanted to— but you knew that if Mrs Weasley had any more reason to believe you and Fred were together, nights in the same bed would be over.

And so, doing the things you did last night would be way harder to achieve.

“What you mean?” you asked, grabbing a mug of hot cocoa.

“Please,” Ginny rolled her eyes. “See that look in my brother’s face? Last time I saw him that happy was when he got a new broom.”

You turned your face insignificantly to see Fred, who was sitting at the end of the table, eating some sort of bread with Geoge right next to him.

You frowned slightly to Ginny, who rolled her eyes more time.

“Good Merlin, I won’t be able to be two meters near you two, will I?”

You giggled and tried to hide your smile with the mug. Fred heard the sound of your laugh and instantly turned to your direction. His eyes wandered your whole face, and he fixed them in your mouth. He licked his lips before smiling and blink, and then he turned to his twin as if he was paying attention to George all along.

When your heart started beating again, the rest of the Weasleys and Sirius Black had gotten to the kitchen too.

“Where’s Harry?” Ginny asked Ron, but he shrugged. Harry was going through his own problems. “Well, anyway, pay up, will you, Ronniekins.”

“What?” he looked at Ginny, “wait, what?” he looked at you. “Couldn’t have waited one more night, could you?”

Ginny smiled when Ron tossed her a sickle.

“You guys placed a bet over Fred and me?” you whispered to the red-haired girl.

“Sure I did, and I won,” Ginny smiled while you rolled your eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, Fred lost. He said you would never like him back.”

Your eyes went from Ginny to Fred across the table, and for a minute while you looked at him, you forgot his entire family was there, and you sighed like a girl in love. Well, that was what you were anyway.

When you and Fred finally got time alone, you gave him a sickle.

“You should never have bet against us,” you said, placing the coin in his hand.

“Never doing that again,” he promised with a soft smile before pulling you close one more kiss.

[okaywitheverything]

hi! can i request minato fall for naruto kindergarten teacher please? thank you 😁

Ma'am: A Possible New Mom? Minato x KindergartenTeacher!Reader

My actual first request! Hope I did it justice! Thank you honey for the request. I wrote some sort of mixed AU so I hope you don't mind.

 A/N: This took a lot of time because I have a lot of tests every month. Also i threw up a week ago and was somewhat sick. Then I lost the two drafts and was so irritated with ms word but somehow I managed to write again. So a lot of blood, sweat and tears went into this. Please shower it with love if you even read this awful Author’s note.

Positive A/N: I did like how it turned out tho, the ending is too cute and you won't know what to expect as I didn't either. I genuinely hope you have fun reading this piece.

Word count: 3K

 Your POV

 “It must be fun to play with the kids all day."

People who think that are the biggest fools on the planet in the universe.

You were picking up the various toys scattered throughout the main classroom, sorting them category wise while the kids took a nap. Most of them anyways.

A few babies had insane amount of energies that they refused to sleep whatsoever. But it wasn't as big a problem as people think it is. All kids have different strengths, a variety of ways to function and unique physiology. You knew if a kid was not tired, forcing him or her to doze off isn't healthy.

Just let the kids be.

So that explains why Naruto was alongside you helping you to collect the sponge shurikens scattered around while you put away the stuffed ninkens on the high shelf. Usually Kiba and Rock Lee would be awake as well, and this trio would play in the hall until their limbs gave out but today even they slept after tiring poor Akamaru out for weird challenges.

“Ma’am, I almost forgot! I want to show you something! Come with me!” Naruto suddenly grabbed your hand leaving his task in the midst and urging you to leave yours too. You looked at him puzzled but giggled at his enthusiasm nonetheless, sometimes kids were too darn cute. You loved the ways kids’ eyes lit up, so optimistic and happy and hopeful until the world snatched it all away. You wanted to preserve this for as long as could.

He took you to the room where the kids kept their small backpacks filled with their favourite articles that they thought were absolutely necessary to take everywhere.

No Neji, you don’t need to have three combs for the care of your luscious hair every possible instant.

Naruto generally brought a lot of snacks which you had to retain sometimes so that he would eat healthy but it became even harder to do so when all he wanted was for Sasuke to taste the tomatoey flavour ‘these’ chips had and gift Rock Lee the curry flavour. That boy had a heart of gold.

 He pulled the zipper of his orange backpack open, and took out a stuffed fox.

“Ma’am meet Kurama! I told him all about you and he wanted to meet you!” He held Kurama up while you were gently petting the plushie’s head, he was so excited to see your happiness to meet his esteemed companion.

These kids and their imaginations! You loved every ounce of it!

“Hello Mr. Kurama!” You didn’t feign excitement, you actually were. You loved kids and their creativity and wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“He’s my best friend! Don’t tell anyone else though! Others might get sad.”

You did an action of zipping your lips, “Your secret is safe with me, sweetie.”

“Look! I also drew something!” He hastily handed you Kurama and proceeded to take out his yellow sketchbook. He kept turning pages filled with rainbows of colours morphing into one another that made some sense in his cute, little head and finally reached his desired page. He pulled your dress with his little chubby hands, an action he often did when he wanted you to sit beside him. You kneeled down, his plushie settled in your lap now as you waited for him to go ahead.

He handed you his open sketchbook where there were three figures, two adults and one kid judging by the height, all wearing triangular outfits. One kid and an adult had striking yellow hair and blue eyes while the other adult wore an orange dress with a large circle in their hands. On closer inspection, you saw your own hair colour and eye colour being illustrated to the best of the toddler’s ability, as far as the crayons allowed him to portray it. You had a circle in your hands, almost the size of your drawn head with black spots in between while the child in the photo held an orange squishy ball. To save you from your confusion, Naruto came to the rescue and started explaining.

“That’s me and Dada over here. And I’m playing with Kurama! And that’s you Ma’am! Bringing me and dada cookies for being good boys like you do in class!”

Your heart melted right there and then. For some reason, your face heated up too.

“Oh my God, honey, that’s amazing!” You pecked his cheek as Naruto blushed slightly and rubbed his head, “You liked it?”

“I Loved it! What did Dada say about it?”

“He got so red like Sasuke’s tomatoes haha. But he put it on our fridge like my other drawings and he said it was the best one yet.”

Before you could reply, crying was heard from the nap room and you sighed. Looks like someone woke up.

“Yay, someone is up! We can now play!” Naruto began running but you stopped him.

“Let’s be sure to pack this all up before, Ma’am Anko will see to your friend okay?”

Minato was waiting alongside other parents, it was 10 minutes till the kindergarten was over. His mind wandered afar, thinking about his journey to this town.

Minato was very afraid when he moved to Konoha, about Naruto settling in and making friends. Of course, back in his previous town he had already got Naruto a place in the best Kindergarten there, pulling all the needed strings but his promotion caught him off guard. Being a single parent was hard enough as it is, and with the worry of adjusting to new surroundings for his growing son, he was almost going to decline the offer. Only after much conviction from his friends that he deserved this, he took the offer, albeit hesitantly.

He was happy with his new workspace and colleagues as well, and was over the moon when he one of his erudite associates had a son the same age as his own, and recommended the city’s best kindergarten where his son was set to go. He went blindly on his associate’s word, because he knew him to be a wise dad.

For the first two months, he had to work relentlessly to prove his position as the new leader in the branch, and so he had his assistant pick Naruto up while he prepared lunch at home for his precious boy, barely making it home fifteen minutes before they did. But when the company celebrated their first real accomplishment, only then did Minato feel he could take a step back and indulge with his son more as he used to do.

When he began picking him up himself, he realised what he had been missing on: small quirky tales, new words his toddler learned, new friends’ names, his favourite teacher’s cookies apparently. Minato quickly noticed, being the perceptive man he was, that Naruto could go hours and hours talking about his Ma’am. He would have thought of it as a crush, had Naruto been older.

But when he first saw you, he could relate to his son if Naruto did have a crush. He knew he was being superficial, being attracted to your appearance at first sight but he couldn’t help himself that you were almost ethereal, too gorgeous to be true. It seemed as if you were glowing when you laughed alongside the kids or held one of them on your shoulders while searching for the parents.

However, your personality was even more so captivating when he finally talked to you at the parents-teachers conference. You were such a quality teacher, he deduced when he noticed how apt you were at describing each kid individually and how dedicated to their growth you were. He loved the bond you had with Naruto, the boy couldn’t stop grinning upon meeting you on his day off.

The bell rung, breaking him out of his reverie, and he waited as the kids ran to the parents, waving goodbyes here and there, ready for their weekend. He could hear your faint shouting over the buzz, “Make sure you have taken all your belongings, kiddos! Have a good weekend!”    

He knew if you had a special place in his son’s heart, he could let you stay in his heart as well.

It was 8 PM, one hour past the Uzumaki kid’s bedtime, but the blatantly crying kid was nowhere near sleeping. A distressed Minato held him on his hip, as he searched the entire house for his favourite plushie, Kurama, without whom Naruto had never slept.

“We’ll find him, Naru. Do you remember where you last saw it?” Minato asked, pausing and sitting in the comfy sofa, looking at Naruto, hoping he’d have an answer.

Naruto’s wails quietened down, fortunately there were no tears, as he pondered and spoke, “I last showed it to Ma’am!”

Minato sighed, he grasped that Naruto would have left it at the playschool because no inch of his house was unsearched. He settled Naruto down on the couch as he deliberated calling you over a toy. He had your number for emergencies, but was this one? The real objection, the actual reluctance he had for calling was totally different though. He hated to admit it, but talking to Naruto’s daydream of a teacher always left him stuttering like a teenager. He could barely listen and respond when he met her at the kindergarten, but talking to that Goddess one on one was more terrifying and nerve-wracking than moving to a new town.

But he knew there was no way Naruto would sleep without Kurama and it was only Friday, nights to wait if he doesn’t ask you about the plushie today. He couldn’t imagine how disheveled will Naruto be without Kurama by then. He would surely award himself with wine if he managed to finish the call without fainting.

With clammy hands and a vigorously pounding heart, he dialed the number.

You were finishing up the last batch of forms and cleaning up, when you saw something abruptly put in the otherwise shipshape playroom. Before you could further inspect, your phone rang, Mr. Uzumaki flashing on top of the screen. Your heart hammered as you wondered what he could be calling about.

You were not going to lie, Mr. Uzumaki was easy on the eyes, always in class A condition with his well-tailored suits as he came to pick Naruto up. Even the married housewives ogled him not-so-subtly. He was such an excellent father, really devoted in his son’s life while simultaneously conquering the business world. An eye candy, with all the best qualities that existed, an immensely put together God’s creation. He was dream partner to have, yet somehow he was single.

Your phone’s ring broke you out of your musing, as your sweaty palms grabbed the phone and received the cal.

“Good Evening, Mr. Uzumaki.” You managed out, your neck suddenly heating up.

“Good Evening, Miss. I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

“Not at all, I was about to head home. How may I help you?”

“If you are still there at the playschool, could you please…… If you don’t mind….. I’m sorry again I called-”

“I assure you, it’s fine. You don’t need to worry about it. Although you do need to tell me the problem if you want me to help.” You giggled lightly, amused at that man stuttering.

“Thank you. Umm Naruto left his night time plushie there I suppose and he doesn’t sleep without it. Could you please, please check if it’s there?”

“Of course.” You held the phone and as you hummed and went to the Kid’s playroom you found Naruto’s sketchbook with the drawing laying on it, and the Kurama toy beside it. You swore you promised Naruto pack it earlier in the day.

“Looks like he did leave it here.”

“Can you keep the school open a bit late, I’ll come and collect it right aw-”

“Its pretty windy right now outside, and you’ll have to bring Naruto too at this hour. I’ll drop it at your home on my way back, I was planning in leaving in five anyways.” Your mouth spoke before you could process what you said, offering to go to his house? Nice going there, you desperate weirdo.

His choked out “Okay” almost surprised you as you ended the call.

This will be a nice, little detour.

About twenty minutes later, the doorbell to the Uzumaki household rang and Minato sprinted to the door, opening it immediately.

There you stood, with tousled hair from the wind, in your long red pea coat and black heels. Your cheeks lightly tinted, no doubt because of the unruly weather outside. Somehow you still looked absolutely perfect in Minato’s eyes as he traced your form, unable to initiate the conversation.

You, on the other hand, had halted completely when the door opened revealing a ripped Minato, his muscles bulging underneath his black shirt while grey sweatpants hung loosely on his hips. His biceps were so thick, you wondered how he managed to exercise on top of all the responsibilities he had.

You handed it over to Minato whose eyes widened at the piece of paper and stood there awkwardly, processing what to say.

Somehow stopping yourself from all the gawking, you cleared your throat as you dug in your black purse and took out Naruto’s best friend and his masterpiece.

“Guess he left this as well.” He gave a forced laugh, trying to make things less uncomfortable after he stood silent for two minutes.

You chuckled lightly in agreement when suddenly thunder boomed behind you, causing you to shriek and slip, only to be caught by Minato, his hands holding you around your middle tightly in a protective manner. You coughed as you stepped back again and he cleared his throat this time when suddenly it started pouring like hell’s rage on Earth.

“You should stay for a while, at least until the rain lightens.”

You were going to decline, but when you saw how bad it was raining, you knew you would have to accept. “Looks, like I’ll have to. Sorry to impose.”

“It’s no imposition at all. I’m inviting you, don’t fret.”

You stepped inside, shrugging your pea-coat off, revealing your black dress underneath. Minato reddened visibly, taking your pea-coat from you and hanging it. He cursed himself as he thought of conversation starters, wanting to say something, anything to not stand like a fool.

“Would you like wine? I have this blush flavoured bottle reading to drink.”

“I would love that, Thank you. What are you celebrating though, if I may ask?” You agreed, maybe the alcohol would calm your buzzing nerves. Besides you were a sucker for wine.

“Nothing much, a simple personal achievement of sorts.” He said with a grin as he led you inside, hopeful of where the night might lead. Maybe the liquid courage would help him finally ask you out.

Behind the wall, Naruto grinned with a pacifier in his mouth. Mission successful.

So that was that. Until next time, cookies.

[suburbanbeatnik]

The short and very miserable life of Napoleon II, aka the Eaglet, aka Franz, Duke of Reichstadt: PART ONE

Napoleon’s son with Marie Louise, his second wife, the daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor Habsburg Emperor Francis II, is known by a variety of names: Napoleon II, the Eaglet, l’Aiglon, King of Rome, or Franz, Duke of Reichstadt. It seems to me this kid barely gets mentioned as a footnote in most popular biographies of Napoleon. Of course Napoleon loved kids, and was over the moon that he finally had his own legitimate child, his own son and heir. He doted on this adorable and spirited blond moppet, being super affectionate with him, playing with him, spending lots of time with him, bringing him into his study to cuddle with him as he read dispatches, or tossing him up into the air when the toddler pulled on his coat-tails.

It’s very sweet and heart-warming to read all these adorable father-son moments, but honestly it’s depressing as hell to realize the best years of the Eaglet’s life was up to the age of four.

When he parted from his father after his defeat in Russia, it was all horribly and sickeningly downhill from there.

So I was reading Octave Aubry’s biography The King of Rome: Napoleon II. It’s not a new bio by any means— it’s from 1932. But it is thoroughly researched and very well written, with lots of cites from various Viennese archives, and Jesus Christ, it is depressing. The Eaglet was physically and emotionally abused by the Habsburg side of his family and by their minions for most of his very short life, and it makes for a harrowing read.  

What did his mother do to stop it, you may ask? Unfortunately, the answer is absolutely nothing.

TW: CHILD ABUSE

So, the best that could be said about his mother, Marie Louise, was that she was a weak character. If I wanted to be more blunt, I’d say she was spineless enough to the point I wonder if she was even a vertebrate.  

She was, of course, raised to hate Napoleon as a child. But then she met him and fell in love with him. She was very eager to be loved and do everything he asked her to do, even if (as Andrew Roberts points out in his own mammoth biography of Napoleon) she wasn’t the brightest bulb. But perhaps she was a perfectly cromulent empress when war wasn’t on her doorstep and she wasn’t asked to make decisions: but once the war WAS on her doorstep and decision-making was called of her, she fell apart like wet tissue. As Aubry explains:

That it would be a capital mistake for Marie Louise and her son to leave Paris was painfully evident to everyone, even to the Empress herself. But no initiative could have been expected of her. Willing, always of the best intentions, she was a passive creature both by temperament and education. She could never be more than an instrument in the hands of others. But Hortense, who had a resolute spirit behind that bleat of hers, showed both intelligence and heart in the circumstances. She was waiting for Marie Louise when the council was over, and said to her:

‘Sister dear, you must realize that in leaving Paris you will be neutralizing the defense and so lose your crown. I observe that you are making the sacrifice with great resignation.’

The Empress replied gently, almost humbly:

‘You are right. It is not my fault— the Council has decided that way.’

She was hoping vaguely for a letter from the Emperor, a counter-order that would permit her to remain. [Aubry pg 54]

At this point Louise, after fleeing Paris, wanted to be reunited with Napoleon, but she just cried and wrung her hands, as her lady-in-waiting Mme Lannes, in cahoots with Talleyrand, poured poison into her ear about how Napoleon never loved her. Then Talleyrand conspired to have all of Louise’s stuff stolen. The soon-to-be-ex-empress continued to cry and do nothing, only to go “to her room to collapse on her knees at her bedside.”

Anyway, her father swooped in and picked her up, and Metternich arranged to have Neipperg, a dashing, managing middle-aged man in uniform (Louise definitely had a type), seduce her. Within the space of weeks, she immediately changed her tune with regards to her husband, and wanted to have nothing more to do with him. As for the Eaglet, though he ended up in Vienna, he was in the care of his beloved governess, Mme de Montesquiou, aka “Maman ‘Quiou.” He was in good hands while Maman ‘Quiou was allowed to stay with him, but she was deathly afraid of being sent away, since she knew Louise was indifferent to her child and would never do the right thing, now that she was the puppet of her father and of Metternich.

With her son whom she had not seen for three months and who was enraptured at her return, she [Marie Louise] concerned herself less and less. In spite of the caresses and the gifts that were showered upon her, Mme. de Montesquiou saw things clearly and passed her judgment. Writing to her husband who was urging her to leave Vienna she said:

“My dear, do not call it my duty to return to France. As I have already advised you, you would be putting me in the greatest embarrassment, and my conscience would trouble me all my life long… If that child has a mother, very well, I could place him in her hands and be satisfied. But she is nothing less than that: she is more indifferent to his fate than the veriest stranger in his service.”

And to an intimate she confided in disgust at what she suspected and intuited:

“I have seen painful things, and I keep seeing them every day.”  [Aubry pg 81]

Unfortunately, in 1815, Maman ‘Quiou was sent away. The Eaglet wept for two days straight, and was put into the care of a certain Countess Mitrovsky, “a creature of the Empress Maria-Ludovica and an intimate of Neipperg.” The loyal Meneval, who was also to be sent away, said good-bye to the little boy, and the change in the child’s demeanor was striking.

He was struck by the child’s earnest and melancholy air. He did not run to meet Meneval with his usual lively gestures and gay exclamations. He watched him, as he entered, with the utmost indifference. Countess Mitrovsky was with him. Every few seconds he would look at her as though in fear of a reprimand. After a few conventional phrases, Meneval took his hand and asked him if he had anything to say to his papa, for he was going soon to see him. The child looked at him sadly and went away, still silent, towards the embrasure of a distant window. Meneval bade good-bye to the Countess and Mme. Soufflot [one of the few remaining French waiting women], then, as he was leaving, stepped over to the little boy who stood watching him from the window. He bent low to bid him good-bye. And at that moment, he felt a tug at his coat and heard a trembling little voice say:

“Monsieur Meva, you will tell him that I still love him dearly.”

He was only four years old and for fourteen months he had not seen his father…

When he reached the antechamber, Meneval burst into tears. [Aubry, pgs 89-90]

Not long after this, the young King was delivered into the care of a tutor named Count Dietrichstein. The Eaglet, who was “dragged” by Countess Mitrovsky to meet Dietrichstein, refused to have anything to do with him, and Dietrichstein, while weeping, dramatically claimed to a friend “he cannot love me” as long as the last French women, even the aged nurse, were in Franz’s service. So Mme Soufflot, her daughter Fanny, and the others were banished, leaving Franz completely alone.

No more warmth about him, no more deep interest, no more deep interest, no soft hands to stroke his curls, no arms to clasp him too tight when he returned weary from a drive, no knees to spread him to let him rest, no more smiling reproofs for his shortcomings, no more love in short— real love, that is disinterested, unselfish love, love for himself and love for what he was. His mother was soon to leave him, to ascend to her throne in Parma. HIs grandfather Franz treated him kindly; but he had always sacrificed him for the interests of State and would sacrifice him again, if the Chancellor [Metternich] so ordered. As for his uncles, aunts, and cousins of Austria, however well they might treat him, however generous they might be, as certain of them were, they could not— and this was natural— help seeing in him, first of all, the son of Napoleon.

He was born with an affectionate disposition. He had loved his father infinitely. With his mother he had been tender and gentle. He had adored Mme de Montesquiou and Fanny Soufflot. Now he was compelled to close his heart. Brought up by men, raised only by men, but still too much of a child to become a man, he turned inward, escaped into the little universe he had made for himself with his memories of former days. For as young as he was, he had no hope, and he did not know there was a future. He was going to grow up that way, not unhappy if one only looks at the material content of life, but if one thinks of the needs of the heart, certainly not happy. [Aubry pgs 97-98]

Count Dietrichstein decided that he was going to stamp all the Frenchness out of the Eaglet’s mind, for he must become 100% a Habsburg. Nothing but German would be spoken to him, and when he clung to speaking French, crying that he didn’t want to be a German, that he wished to be a Frenchman, he was chastised, deprived of play and outings, and then, with the Emperor Franz’s approval, actually whipped. Yes— he was whipped. When he was only five years old, because he wouldn’t speak German.

But when even that wouldn’t work, Marie Louise sat him on her knee and told him solemnly that he must speak German to please his grandfather, which finally did the trick. Not long after this, she went to the little court in Parma. She requested for her son  to go with her, but when Metternich refused, she acquiesced meekly.

Once so light-hearted and gay, the child became timid and mistrustful, and after the departure of his friends, the French women, and would lie to protect himself. In such cases he would be punished, not harshly, but not gently either. He shrank more and more into himself, accordingly, and since the world had grown hostile, he now began to offer it only a surface of indifference. [Aubry, pg 100]

He began to act out, destroying his copy books and mutilating his toys, but would also become sensitive to injustice or cruelty, like a dog being whipped or a bird eating a worm. He was told he would no longer be called Napoleon: he was to be called Franz. When he objected, he was “promptly silenced.” He became used to the name, and from here on out he was usually called Franz.

Franz still fought with Dietrichstein, who commented on his “laziness” and “ill will,” and his many quarrels with the prince, although he was happy to note in his letters to Marie Louise that it ended with “my victories.” Metternich had the boy closely followed, reports sent regularly and classified into a “ponderous file.” Meanwhile, his mother, off in Parma, when she wasn’t writing letters to her son exhorting him to pious obedience, made the feeblest attempt to defend the interests of the newly christened Franz— Franz was cut off from the succession of Parma after Metternich decided that this was in the best interests of the monarchy in Italy, Marie Louise was “readily brought into line by Neipperg, who owned her now body and soul.”

…She expressed herself as satisfied in a private letter of October, 1817:

“My son’s future has been determined. You know  that I was never ambitious for thrones or States for him, but hoped he would be the richest and most charming gentleman in Austria.”  [Aubry pg 110]

Meanwhile, Napoleon was kept on the island of St Helena, waiting for news from his son, but he heard not a word from his wife or a line from his son for six years. When he died, he was looking at Franz’s portrait, and left him many legacies, such as his books, engravings, papers, coffee service and the family house in Ajaccio, but Franz saw none of it. His mother, who was pregnant at the time with Neipperg’s son, didn’t even tell her son of his father’s death. She refused to accept Napoleon’s heart, which his will bequeathed her, because, as Aubry says, “she was more interested in the inheritance: she filed objection to the transfer of the six millions on deposit with Laffitte out of which the bequests of the Emperor were to be paid. She would not permit Marchand [Napoleon’s valet] to deliver to her at Parma Napoleon’s laces and the bracelet made of his hair.” Napoleon even begged her to take his last physician, Dr Antommarchi, into her service: she refused to even meet with him, palming the doctor off on Neipperg, who glad-handed Antommachi and pushed him out the door when he started asking too many questions about Franz.

Louise did moan about Napoleon’s suffering on St Helena while she was giving birth to Neipperg’s child, but she promptly forgot it. “She was a weak and frivolous soul. She would have grieved longer over her pet parrot, Marguerite. She even expressed astonishment that Madame Mere should have asked the British government for Napoleon’s body.” [Aubry pg 120]

One of the junior tutors named Foresti was given the task to tell the ten year old Franz that his father was dead.

The child began to weep and he wept a long time, doubtless calling up in his memory the pale face which had softened to such tenderness whenever it drew near his own. He sat down near the window, his cheeks, and his hands that covered them, wet with tears. Foresti himself was deeply moved and tried to comfort him. But the child did not hear him. [Aubry pg 122]

As Prokesch, his best friend of his short adult life, put it later:

“The prince wept for a whole day, almost without stopping. Then, suddenly, he mastered his emotions, dried his eyes, rose and paced the floor up and down. Not a word came from his lips. And several weeks passed before he alluded  to his father’s death. He felt he must keep his grief to himself.”

Meanwhile, Franz was now thinking in German, but he still rebelled against his teachers, who, for years, beat him with the ferule (a type of paddle that resembled a long and large wooden spoon, the circular head often pierced with holes, and sometimes as large as a child’s head)— his grandfather the Emperor authorized “great severity” against him when he was being “stubborn”— but this stopped when it was clear beatings no longer had any affect. Except for brief months of pleasure during summer vacations at the castle of Persenbeug where Marie Louise deigned to leave Parma, Franz, who was completely without friends, was kept in solitude. He responded by withdrawing into himself and going into a fantasy world.  

He dreamed, and gained freedom by dreaming. As a small boy he loved to play: now that he was growing up, it was still what he liked to do best. Never did child love to dream more than he: that escape from time, from responsibilities, from disappointments, that journey without end, where ideas, colors and forms mingled according to one’s fantasy! As soon as he could flee the watchful care of Foresti or of Collin, instead of working at his translations, his themes, or his arithmetic exercises, he would open the huge gilt-edged volumes given to him on his birthdays by his grandfather or the Archdukes and leaning his head on his hand, began to dream with his eyes upon the awkward, rather ridiculous illustrations of those days, in which one could see beplumed generals prancing besides their armies with spent cannonballs lying at their horses’ feet, while down in one corner an aide-de-camp would be reading an order and in the other an almoner kneeling besides a stretcher to confess a dying soldier.

Sometimes, bending low over an atlas, he would travel in spirit far out over the blue seas to the continents bordered in loud colors. One day, Matthias Collin came into the room and found him, with his cheek resting on a map. The little prince did not get up at his approach. His teacher thought he was asleep. But on going towards him, he saw the child’s eyes were wide open. The boy gave a start of surprise and blushed. He had been dreaming. Collin was more indulgent than Foresti. He did not punish him. [Aubry pg 132]

* * *

More to come in part two!

[20moonchild21]

Gif by @tearuntold

๛∙ꨄ Failed Haircut

Pairing: BTS x female!8th!member

Warnings: too much cuteness

Words: 2000+

✍︎ 𝓕𝓸𝓻 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓮, because you have a great hairstyle. I hope you like it! ✍︎

ッ

๛ 匕нє σиє ωнєяє ѕнє нαѕ α иєω нαιя¢υт ∙ꨄ

♕

Grace took a deep breath as she sat crossed legs on her bed. Her eyes were closed, hands trembling as she took the small mirror and brought it up towards her face. Carefully, she opened her lids, but as soon as her gaze met herself in the small piece of glass, her eyes got all teary.

Today was supposed to be a good day for her. Their manager had gave them the day off, and since the boy decided to do... she didn't even know what they actually wanted to do, but she knew that she wanted to take care of herself.

So she and her stylist Jina, with whom she was pretty close friends, decided to go to shopping, to the cinema, nail salon and whatever girls do. At last, both women decided to go to the hair salon, and that was where the misfortune took its course.

One important fact about the only female member: when it came to her hair, Grace did not understand any jokes. Her golden hair normally fell smoothly over her shoulders until it reached the small of her back, and sometimes, when the light fell over it, it looked like it was glowing and shining.

She was proud of how long and healthy it had grown over the past years. She didn't need (and didn't want) any extensions, and she didn't want to dye her hair like her boys did sometimes.

But then it happened: the hairdresser took a strand of Grace's hair to curl it with her flat iron. Unfortunately, the flat iron was too hot for the girls sensitive hair, but when she noticed it was already too late. The hairdresser quickly pulled the flat iron away from the smoking hair and a thick strand of burned hair fell down next to the stool Grace was sitting on.

That's how she found herself on the bed

looking at her now shoulder long hair.

"It looks horrible." She whispered as she drove her right hand through the short hair. More and more tears fell down her cheeks.

But she knew that she had to stop crying eventually because firstly, she couldn't change her situation and secondly, she promised to cook dinner for the boys when they would come home. She let out a loud sigh and went over to her dresser. She opened the top drawer and pulled out a red beanie.

She knew that she couldn't hide her new hairstyle forever, but as long as she couldn't look at herself in the mirror, no one could know about this.

When all of her hair was hidden by the piece of fabric she dried her eyes and made her way into the dorm's kitchen.

She cut and prepared all the ingredients, boiled the water and put out all the tableware they would need later.

"We are back!" She heard Namjoon yelling from the door.

Spotting her reflection in the glass of the oven, she saw that her eyes were still red and puffy. She didn't want the boys to know that she cried because of her hair, even though they knew what it meant to her.

She looked around the kitchen and quickly spotted a pair of sunglasses on the windowsill. She put them on just in time before Jungkook waddled into the kitchen.

"Wow. It smell amazing, Gracie." He said and came up behind the small girl. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. "Is this Japchae?"

The girl just nodded and turned her attention back towards the burners. Of course Jungkook noticed the hat and sunglasses, but since all of the usually wore their accessories indoors, he didn't think more about it. He just dropped his arms, pulled his phone out of his pocket and sat down on the kitchen counter.

One after one, the boys joined the two youngest in the kitchen, and no one said something about the girl's outfit (to her relief). She heard the boys behind her joking and laughing about random things, and normally she was the first one to join them in their silly conversations. But not today.

She knew it was silly to cry about the too short hair. Many would title her as princess or even conceited, but these people didn't know how important it was to her. When she was younger, she wasn't allowed to grow her hair longer than under her chin, because her mom didn't want to deal with all that hairstyling stuff that young girls love to do, and her father wanted a son anyway, so the short hair didn't remind him that he actually had a daughter.

She tried hard to hold the tears back while thinking about her childhood. The long hair reminded her who she was, and that no one could rule over her body again. But now, it was all gone.

"Should I set the table?" She shrugged when she heard Jin's voice.

She blinked the tear drops in her eyes away and nodded her head quickly.

She turned off the burners and took a deep breath, before she grabbed the handle of the pot and carried it over to the table.

"I am sooo hungry!" Hobi groaned when he opened the lid of the pot, while the other agreed with him.

"Grace?" Namjoon looked sceptically at the young girl, as she was about to shove the chopstick into her mouth. "Are we too shiny for your eyes?"

At first, she looked a little bit confused, but when Namjoon gestured for her sunglasses, she knew what he meant. It was his unwritten rule, that on the table no one was allowed to wear sunglasses or hats or scarves, because it was rude.

"So? Would you mind taking the glasses off?" He asked again.

Grace carefully nodded. Slow-motion-like, she lifted her hands up and pulled the piece of plastic away from her eyes. She didn't dare to look up, still too afraid that her eyes would be red or puffy. Luckily, none of the boys mentioned something about them.

The food indeed smelled delicious, but Grace just couldn't get something down right now. She put her elbow on the table and leaned her head onto her hand, while she shoved the noodles around the plate with the other hand.

"Grace?" Namjoon's voice ripped her out of her thoughts once again. He just pointed with his index finger towards her head. "Please, take it off. You know what I think about it while dinner time."

"Ican'takeitoff..." The girl mumbled more to herself than to anybody else.

"What did you say?" This time, it was Jin to ask.

By now, the boys definitely had noticed her strange behaviour. Grace normally wasn't a troublemaker when it came to rules inside the dorm.

"I can't takeitoff." She whispered again, still refusing to lift her head.

The boys looked at each other confused.

"Grace, I still did not understand what you said." Namjoon said in a sternly way, as if the girl was a stubborn toddler in front of him.

He knew that she was a grown up woman, but in the past they had a few problems with Jungkook being rebellious teenager, so he wanted to avoid that she would start behave like him back then. Just as he was about to talk again, a small, rippling noise halled through the room, followed by small sobs.

She just couldn't pretend anymore that everything was okay, because for her, nothing was okay in that moment. Big, fat tears rolled made their way down her plump cheeks, rolling over her chin and falling down onto the table with a small rippling sound.

Not wanting to break in front of the boys, she tried to leave the table, but immediately a par of strong arms were wrapped around her body, pulling her onto his lap.

"Shhhhh." Taehyung's deep voice shushed calmly into her ear, rocking slightly back and forth. "It's going to be okay."

She buried her head deeper into his shirt, staining it with her tears, but she couldn't care less right now. She just couldn't hold back all the sadness and anger about the situation.

Anger about the hairstylist, that she got herself distracted and forgot about the flatiron in her hair.

Anger about herself, that she wasn't carefully enough and let someone else working on her hair.

Anger about her parents, who didn't accept her as the girl she was, and sadness, that she couldn't do the tiniest little bit about the situation.

A big hand found it's way onto her back, rubbing slow circles on it, while Taehyung whispered some sweet words into her ear.

Eventually, the girl calmed down after several minutes of crying and sobbing. She lifted her head from Taehyung's shoulder and used the sleeve of her shirt to whip off the wet stains on her cheeks.

"Grace, what is going on?" Jungkook kneeled in front of the girl and took her smaller hands into his bigger ones. "Are you okay? Are you in pain? Did someone hurt you?"

"No. I am not hurt, Kookie." She whispered and squeezed his hands slightly.

"What happened? How can we help you, Gracie?" Yoongi, yes, the cold and cool Yoongi, had came up behind her and placed small kissed onto her head.

The girl chuckled coldly, while fiddling with her hands in her lap. Usually, one of the seven boys always came up with an idea to solve her problems, but this time there was no solution. Slowly, she lifted her hand up and pulled the beanie away from her head, revealing her new, short hair.

The boys all gasped, as her honey blonde hair fell down from under her beanie, but this time ending right over her shoulder.

They all knew how serious she was about her long hair. There was a time when she didn't talk Jungkook for 3  weeks, because he accidently smeared a chew gum into a small strand of her hair. Why would she cut it all the sudden?

"Jagiya!" Jimin took a strand of her thick and now short hair, and rolled it around his finger. "Why did you cut your hair? You love your hair."

"Yeah, why would you cut it?" Hobi said and drove a hand through her hair as well as the other six boys. "Not that it looks bad or something."

"I – I didn't want to cut it. The hairdresser b-burned my h-hair." She sobbed again and took a strand of her hair. "Now it looks ugly. Everyone is going to laugh at me."

She let the strand fall and was about to hide her face in her hands, when someone pulled her hands away. Namjoon held her hands in his bigger right one, and pushed her head up by her chin with his left hand.

"Jagiya, you know that this it not true." He said and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "No one will laugh at you. You –"

"Yeah and if, you have seven bodyguards to beat everyone up who says something about you." Jungkook interrupted Namjoon, as he lifted both of his arms in a 90 degree angle to flex with is biceps.

"No. No one gets beat up." Namjoon shook his head and turned his attention back to the girl in front of him, who was now giggling at Jungkook's comment. "What I was about to say: Your haircut has nothing to do with your personality. You are still our Grace, the bubbly, silly but smart girl, that makes us laugh every day. I know that you care about your hair, but believe me, in a few month, you'll have your hair back."

"Yeah and 'till then, we can make cool matching half-bun hairstyles." Jungkook piped in, making the girl smile slightly, before he leaned forward and hugged the small girl tightly.

She closed her eyes and buried her face tightly into the boy's neck, inhaling his manly scent.

"We could also dye our hair in the same colour and you –" Jin said, before he quickly got interrupted by the girl's head shooting up.

"NO! NO, no, no – nonono." She pushed the young Maknae away from her and faced her oldest friend. "This is already bad enough, Oppa."

All of them were laughing by now, knowing that Jin obviously was joking about dying their hair together.

"You are so beautiful, na sarang." Taehyung had leaned forward and whispered into her ear, before he pressed a kiss onto the tip of her nose. "With long, and with short, and even with no hair."

"He is right!" Jimin came up and wrapped his arms around both, Taehyung and her. "You are the most beautiful girl in the world. Don't matter what."

"I love you guys so much." She whispered.

They all ended up in a big group hug, followed by kisses all over her and sweet compliments.

She blushed, ad hid her face once again in his shirt, while the others were still laughing. The boys may could not bring her hair back, but they could definitely help her to get over the situation. And after all, having shorter hair might not be as bad as she thought.

——————————////———————————

Hello!

I hope you all had a good start in the new year!

Let me know if you like this story!

Same as always: Don't hesitate to write me your wishes, recommendations and request!

Mꨄ

[astragazer]

Haikyuu x Reader

Iwaizumi x Reader x Oikawa

Hakiyuu Military AU

This is only a short excerpt from Chapter 1. Click HERE to read the rest of Chapter 1.

That pinky promise has always been effective on your son. And every time Oikawa makes a pinky promise and with their thumbs pressing together to metaphorically seal it with a kiss, he always fulfils them no matter what. That reminds you of the many times he did that back when you two are young. All those promises he fulfilled and not once did he ever break them.

That’s one of the reasons you fell for him, he’s just that kind of a person.

But tonight, you thought, Oikawa wasn’t able to fulfil his little promise to Taka.

“Aww, he fell asleep already?” Oikawa asked when you came out of the toddler’s room.

“But you got him to eat all those veggies,” you said, leaning closer to Oikawa. “And for that, let me give you your reward.”

You took a step closer and wrapped your arms around his waist, embracing him as you shared your warmth with him and Oikawa embraced you back.

“You can fulfil the promise tomorrow,” you said, looking up at him.

“You’re right,” he said. “Ah! Come to think of it. I told Taka-chan earlier that he needs to sleep early at night to grow bigger. Did he actually follow what I said?”

“Unlike you, Taka-chan knows how to follow what his parents say.”

“Eh? Y/n-chan, are you saying I’m not a good son like Taka-chan?”

“I didn’t say that though?”

You chuckled when you saw Oikawa pouts before you leaned back and started to walk towards you and Oikawa’s room, with Oikawa trailing closely behind.

Once you got inside, you were suddenly stopped when you felt Oikawa’s arms wrapping around you as he stood behind.

“Tooru?” you asked. Aside from this being sudden, you knew something was off, the way he embraced you was tighter than usual, as if he’s afraid to ever let go.

“There’s something…” Oikawa started, his voice lower than usual too. “…I need to tell you.”

You didn’t know, perhaps it was instinct? But you suddenly felt your heart skipped a beat, in a not so good way. It wasn’t fear, but it was close. Although you don’t want to jump into conclusion, you waited until Oikawa speak again.

“I…”

Oikawa knew it would be easier said than done. To tell you about it.

“I…”

I’ll be deployed to a combat zone soon.

That simple statement that was so hard to say. Oikawa felt a lump in his throat, a heavy weight on his chest and he leaned on you for support when he felt his chest constricted. The longer the seconds passed, the more you couldn’t help but think of the possibility of what it is he was about to tell you but he couldn’t say.

“I…” Oikawa leaned close to your ear and whispered those words instead.

“I love you, Y/n.”

A/n: Hope you guys would be interested in the plot of this fanfic. Check out my wattpad acc for more and upcoming Haikyuu fanfics.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

After Each Midnight Begins A New Day

Extra #10b (chapter 3 of extra #10)

[Masterpost] [AO3]

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan have both officially arrived in their childhoods after their time travel array, now they finally get to see each other again <3

--

To the untrained eye, Lan Zhan knows he looks as stoic as ever. There’s nothing at all in his face or his utterly correct posture to reveal that he feels ready to fly apart from the rush of adrenaline coursing through him and the painful knife’s edge of uncertainty that leaves his fists shaking where they’re curled into his sleeves. He has no idea if he’s going to get what he wants or not and that’s a strange combination of exhilarating and frustrating.

There is, thankfully, enough to focus on besides his own roiling emotions to make them somewhat easier to ignore, at least for the moment. It’s Madam Lan’s first attempts at venturing out into the Sect for business that includes other Sects, and he is acutely aware of this. Her re-entrance into the Lan Sect has gone disastrously so far even after making her case to the elders that she has served her penance and provided two heirs for the Sect. But neither she nor Lan Zhan are discouraged. After all - few people understand the unbending rigidity of the current generation of the Gusu Lan better than the man who had been whipped nearly to death by the elders for the sake of ‘righteousness’ and the woman who had once died in captivity enforced by many of those same elders - and for painfully similar reasons.

True acceptance within the Sect is going to be a long time coming, but Lan Zhan is patient and utterly determined down to his bones to see it through. There are few things he can’t accomplish when both of these traits are put to use.

“Zhan-er,” Madam Lan says softly at his side now and he looks up to meet her eyes, full of warmth and fondness that still melts his heart, as he’s sure will be the case for the rest of his life. “Don’t be nervous. He’ll come.” If Lan Zhan were the blushing type, he might have at that. Living with his mother over the last year or so - ostensibly to be raised by her while in actuality to hide the truth of his condition and make plans to improve the future - has been better than he could have ever imagined. It has also, however, resulted in another person (besides Wei Ying) who’s actually perfectly capable of reading him in ways that make him feel unexpectedly exposed, and while of course he trusts his mother to be kind and understanding in her knowing of him, it’s still a strange feeling. He’s getting used to it though - he’s overjoyed to have the chance to get used to it.

He nods once and reaches up to take her hand as movement down the path from the gate becomes visible.

“Lan-furen.”

Lan Qiren’s voice is cold behind them and Lan Zhan doesn’t even bother turning to look at him. He only has eyes for the Jiang delegation making their way up the stairs, his eyes straining to find a hint of the only person from Yunmeng he cares about seeing. Lan Qiren’s surprisingly petty disapproval of Madam Lan is a familiar irritation by now, one not nearly as deserving of his attention as the possibility of being reunited with his husband.

“Grandmaster,” Madam Lan replies, utterly serene as if she can’t even hear the edge of anger in Lan Qiren’s tone. “You didn’t bring Huan-er with you.”

“He has lessons. It is not appropriate to bring young children to formal greetings.”

“Oh dear,” she replies so dryly Lan Zhan very nearly finds the will to look away from the Jiang Sect still making their way up the stairs to look at her and share in the joke instead. Almost. “I was under the impression that Zhan-er’s manners are so lovely already, he should get a chance to practice with others outside of the Sect. He’s been working so hard, it only seemed fair.”

If Lan Qiren has a reply to that, propriety demands he keep it to himself as the Jiang Sect representatives have finally drawn near enough to make casual conversation too difficult to keep private.

Lan Zhan does not crane his neck nor does he start trying to push his way through the gathered cultivators, but to be entirely honest that has more to do with his mother’s hand still wrapped around his than any thoughts of exhibiting proper behavior. For a handful of anxious moments he can’t help but take note of the fact that Jiang Fengmian is, oddly, not at the front of the delegation. The reason becomes clear when the cultivators part to reveal their Sect Leader trying and just barely succeeding to contain a wriggling toddler with as much dignity as one can muster when wrestling with – and losing against - an extremely determined child.

His heart feels ready to leap out of his chest and straight into his husband’s tiny hands, currently curled into fists in the front of Jiang Fengmian’s robes as he pulls and tugs at them, crying something about not wanting to be apart from him. He desperately hopes that it’s for show. If he has somehow lost his husband through this experiment of theirs of course he will love this Wei Ying as desperately as he ever has, but he won’t be able to keep himself from mourning for the version of him that he lost. Again.

“A-Ying, you have to let go,” Jiang Fengmian is pleading quietly as everyone goes still and the silence that descends quickly turns awkward for everyone who is not Jiang Fengmian and Wei Ying. Or Lan Zhan, for that matter - he couldn’t care less if they all just stare at each other in silence for the entire afternoon, though it would make for a remarkably unproductive first day of a discussion conference. That is, thankfully, not his responsibility anymore.

“Oh dear,” Madam Lan tuts again, but this time it’s much softer than just moments ago. “Jiang-zongzhu,” she calls and offers a salute, though she doesn’t release Lan Zhan’s hand to do it so it ends up a bit lopsided. “Might myself and my son be of some assistance?”

“Your -“ Jiang Fengmian’s puzzled look only grows as he glances down at him, no doubt wondering just who he and Madam Lan are and why they’re at the gates along with Lan Qiren to escort them beyond the wards. “Oh. Thank you. Perhaps. A-Ying?”

Lan Zhan watches with his hands clenched once again into tight fists and his knees tensed as if to run as Wei Ying lifts his head reluctantly from Jiang Fengmian’s shoulder to look down at him, his cheeks wet with tears and his eyes red-rimmed.

“Uncle Jiang,” he whines, sounding like he’s on the verge of beginning to cry again, but Jiang Fengmian can clearly see that as well and he hurries to try to soothe him.

“It won’t be for long, A-Ying, and you can have a new friend, just like A-Cheng and A-Li. Alright?”

Wei Ying sniffles and scrubs his face on his sleeve before he peeks tentatively down at Lan Zhan again standing there practically vibrating with the desire to drag Wei Ying into a hug and never let go. His mother’s hand around his is a gentle restraint but after a moment she lets go and puts a hand on his back as if to ‘coax’ him forward, though naturally he needs no convincing. Lan Zhan steps forward and he only manages to maintain a measured pace by force of habit, and because his knees are shaking so much he’s afraid he would trip if he were to move any faster.

When he reaches the pair he looks up and, after a moment, he holds a hand up as well as he searches desperately for a sign that Wei Ying is just putting on an act for the sake of their ruse. If he is, Lan Zhan can find no fault in it and an interesting mix of dread and deep-rooted affection tangle messily together in his chest. He can do some things alone to fix what went wrong the first time, but he’s afraid that what only he can accomplish won’t be enough to give Wei Ying - and everyone else - the gentler, more carefree life they had intended.

Wei Ying scrubs at his face again and hides in Jiang Fengmian’s shoulder for a moment before he starts wriggling again, this time with the clear intention of clambering down out of his arms. Lan Zhan lets his hand drop again and takes a step back to give Jiang Fengmian room to set Wei Ying down and he somehow looks even smaller like this, standing there hunched inwards and scrubbing at his face even as he reaches out to take Lan Zhan’s hand in his and hold it in a death grip.

Whatever the rest of the adults say over their heads is lost on Lan Zhan as he patiently guides Wei Ying to Madam Lan’s side, his heart hammering in his ears loudly enough to drown everything else out. Whether this boy is ‘his’ Wei Ying or not is utterly irrelevant in this moment. Wei Ying is Wei Ying, and Lan Zhan is utterly devoted to him in any circumstances, in any life they may find themselves in. And right here, right now, he has the chance to love him wholeheartedly from the start, and so he will.

“Let’s go home,” Madam Lan ushers gently, herding the two of them in front of her with careful hands on their backs. They leave the cultivators behind quickly as they take the path that branches off to circle around the main areas of Cloud Recesses and head directly for the residences.

They’re walking along a relatively secluded part of the path and Wei Ying’s sniffles have slowed when Lan Zhan glances at Wei Ying in concern as his hand somehow tightens in his grip even further. All the breath is punched right out of his lungs when he spots that achingly familiar mischievous smirk on Wei Ying’s lips and then, as if that wasn’t enough evidence, Wei Ying winks.

“Wei Ying!” Lan Zhan hisses and the three of them stop dead in their tracks, Wei Ying’s eyes going wide as he darts a wary glance towards Madam Lan still behind them.

“Lan Zhan?”

“Oh wonderful,” Madam Lan says, her smile so wide it warms her voice as well as her features. “That was quite a show, Wei Wuxian, I would expect nothing less after what Zhan-er has told me.”

“...What!?”

“Wei Ying.” Wei Ying’s eyes are still wide and beginning to look a little panicked as he turns his gaze sharply on Lan Zhan again. Lan Zhan glances around to make sure they’re otherwise alone before he steps forward to wrap his arms tightly around Wei Ying’s waist.

And just like that he’s got a Wei Ying-shaped burr clinging to him with every trembling limb, which Lan Zhan is certainly more than okay with.

“Mother knows,” he says as succinctly as he can. “It is alright, Wei Ying.”

“O-oh, okay,” he wavers. Lan Zhan holds him tighter and lets the rabbiting of Wei Ying’s heart calm his own.

“Missed Wei Ying,” he says quietly into Wei Ying’s shoulder and his husband laughs wetly.

Madam Lan delicately clears her throat and cautions, “I don’t want to break this up but we are still on the path, Zhan-er.”

“It’s okay Lan-furen,” Wei Ying is quick to reassure. Lan Zhan releases him with enormous reluctance when he tries to pull away enough to at least put his feet back on the ground. “I’m sorry, I just -“

“You do not need to apologize.” Lan Zhan has the absolute privilege of watching Wei Ying - so small, so cute - blink owlishly up at Madam Lan as he reacts to her affectionate soothing. She takes advantage of his stunned silence to continue. “You two have done the impossible, and I imagine it was as difficult for you to be apart from Zhan-er as it has been for him. There is nothing at all for you to apologize for.”

Lan Zhan is alarmed but not exactly surprised to see Wei Ying’s wide eyes go shiny with unshed tears as he looks up at Madam Lan, his chin wobbling dangerously. Lan Zhan is, after all, well aware both of how deeply Wei Ying’s emotions run under his cheerful veneer as well as how difficult it is to keep such strong feelings in check in these young bodies not yet equipped for it.

“I know that you are technically a grown man and you are capable of a great many things I can’t really imagine, but may I carry you back to the Jingshi?” Madam Lan says next when it’s clear that Wei Ying isn’t going to be able to reply. In the fraction of a second it takes Lan Zhan to blink Wei Ying practically flings himself across the space between them and Madam Lan hurries to scoop him up and put him on her hip, where he immediately burrows into her shoulder like he had been doing with Jiang Fengmian.

Lan Zhan settles in at her side as they begin walking again, one hand stretched up to curl around Wei Ying’s ankle as a silent reassurance for both of them that they’re together again, that this time fate has, against all odds, been merciful.

----

If his companions were anyone else, Wei Ying would have never allowed himself to break down like this. But it’s Lan Zhan, and actually he’s pretty sure that even were Madam Lan not his mother-in-law, even had he not gotten some sort of understanding of her from the few soft recollections he had managed to coax out of Lan Zhan over the years, he still might have been this helpless in the face of the soul-deep kindness she wears openly like an extra layer of robes, warm in the chill of Cloud Recesses.

His relationship with Madam Yu is infinitely better than what it had been in his first childhood, but considering what that had been, that isn’t exactly a glowing endorsement. She doesn’t hate him at least. She is polite to him on occasions that are about half as frequent as her few gentle moments with her own children, but her corrections to his behavior and theirs are always similar. So far she also seems to be uninterested in comparing him to Jiang Cheng, which is truly all he could have thought to ask for, and he’s infinitely grateful for these changes.

But this strange sort of tentative truce with Madam Yu can’t hold the flicker of a candle to the understanding and kindness Madam Lan has already extended to him - he thinks it’s only natural that he would gravitate towards such a presence, even were he not related to her by marriage. For as much as Lan Zhan so clearly loved (and loves) her, his halting moments of extolling her virtues had not prepared Wei Ying for the truth of her. And, much the same as a year ago when he had first allowed Madam Yu to pick him up and hold him - he is still very small, though certainly not as tired as he had been then, and it feels just as wonderful now as it had then to be picked up and held by a mother-figure. No one will ever be able to replace Cangse Sanren and he will long for his mother for the rest of eternity, but he can soothe some of the ache like this.

They reach the Jingshi and Wei Ying doesn’t protest as he’s set down on his feet again, mostly because it leaves him free to turn his full attention to Lan Zhan, standing there in his little robes and his ribbon, appropriately sized for a toddler. He feels giddiness slip in where he had been feeling raw in response to Madam Lan’s kindness and he allows it to take over, to stretch his lips into an impish grin as he darts forward to smash Lan Zhan’s face between his hands.

“Lan Zhan!!” he can’t help but shout, an almost manic joy curling through his chest. He wants to hug Lan Zhan, he wants to run circles around him, he wants to squish his cheeks and gobble him up like a steamed bun. Lan Zhan accepts the full force of his unfettered excitement with his usual fond exasperation, standing still to let Wei Ying walk circles around him to poke him and pinch him and exclaim, “Lan Zhan you’re so cute!! Look at your little hands! And your cheeks!! You’re so small!”

That earns him Lan Zhan’s version of an eye-roll, which means Lan Zhan squints at him with his eyes that are still slightly too big for his tiny features, overwhelming and arrestingly adorable even as he narrows them and says, “Wei Ying is smaller.”

“Aiyah, I know isn’t it ridiculous? At least we already know we’re both going to grow up to be nice and tall. Oh! Lan Zhan!! Let me check your core. Do you feel okay? Any side effects from the array? Did it hurt? Were you scared? Has it been hard to get used to being so tiny? Does anybody suspect anything?”

Lan Zhan doesn’t even bother to try to answer Wei Ying’s rapid-fire questions, he just lifts his hands to pull his sleeve out of the way of his wrist so Wei Ying can press his fingertips to his pulse. The overwhelming strength of his core nearly knocks Wei Ying flat on his ass - not only has he maintained his previous level of cultivation, he’s somehow significantly stronger, and Wei Ying laughs aloud to feel the thundering pulse of it echoing along his own meridians before he withdraws his hand again.

“Lan Zhan you show-off,” he teases as he cackles. “You’ll be an immortal by 15 at this rate!”

“Not by 15,” Lan Zhan sniffs with a bit of disdain, but Wei Ying of course notices that he doesn’t deny that he will at some point stop needing to measure his age as he will simply…continue existing.

“We’ll see - do you do anything at all but meditate?? It feels like you’ve added years to it already.”

“Meditation is an acceptable activity when the Sect expects me to be taking my lessons from Mother.”

“Oooo so smart, Lan Zhan, I should have come up with a way to get out of mine. They’re so boring but I get to take them with A-Cheng so it’s okay.”

Lan Zhan, seemingly reassured that Wei Ying is done poking and prodding at him, chooses that moment to step forward and fold him into another hug and Wei Ying instantly melts into it with a sigh, his arms tight around Lan Zhan’s waist.

“I missed you so much, Lan Zhan,” he whispers softly, such a far cry from his happy yelling of a few moments ago. “I hate being apart.”

“Mn. We will not be so again.”

It’s pretty enough to hear but Wei Ying knows that they’ll have to part again eventually - when this discussion conference is over, for instance, and he’ll be expected to return to Yunmeng with Uncle Jiang. He doesn’t see a need to spoil their reunion with such technicalities, though. Instead he just tucks himself into Lan Zhan and lets himself be held for so long they only pull apart when his stomach growls.

“You need to eat,” Lan Zhan says instantly and Wei Ying laughs, a happy giggle as Lan Zhan pulls him by the hand over to a table and sits him down, a very determined look on his serious little face. And Wei Ying knowsthat they’re adults, they’re grown, they’re fathers - but Lan Zhan is so adorable like this! He can’t resist reaching out to pinch his cheek like he used to do to A-Yuan, which Lan Zhan thankfully allows with very minimal glaring.

“Oh dear,” Madam Lan suddenly laughs and Wei Ying jerks his hand back as he remembers they have an audience, and that said audience is his mother-in-law. “Zhan-er, I didn’t know anyone was allowed to pinch your cheeks. May I?”

“No need,” he harrumphs and retreats, cheeks and ears bright red, and Wei Ying laughs until he falls over onto his back, too relieved and happy to be back with his husband in their home to think about containing himself.

“Lan-furen -” he begins once he has finally composed himself a little, but she immediately waves him off.

“There’s no need for that here. From what I hear you’ve been family for quite some time, and this is just as much your home as it is mine. I believe such official titles are unnecessary here.”

Wei Ying blinks at that, unsure of what exactly he’s supposed to say to that. Thankfully Lan Zhan chooses that moment to return to the table with congee (Lan food, Wei Ying thinks with a mental sigh).

“You are my husband,” Lan Zhan begins with the smallest hint of a smile twitching in his cheeks as he says it. “She is your mother-in-law. Her name is..” Lan Zhan trails off rather uncharacteristically and Wei Ying instantly widens his eyes, eyebrows ticking up with open concern as he makes a questioning noise in the back of his throat. “Her name is Wen Yun. You should call her Yun-gu.”

Wen.

WEN?!

“Wen Yun?!” he yelps once his higher brain functions have marginally returned. “Wen?” he asks again, turning his shocked stare on Madam Lan, who looks as serene as she had before this earth-shattering revelation.

“Zhan-er has told me I have you to thank for providing protection for some members of my family,” she says softly and Wei Ying is unsurprised to find that he’s choking on tears again – he cries a lot these days both for show and simply because it’s difficult not to when his emotions run so high. “Your kindness and your sense of justice will not be forgotten, though I sincerely hope they will not be needed again for this purpose.”

And just like that Wei Ying is sobbing. With the Jiangs and now Lan Zhan returned to him, it seems it’s finally time for him to have the space to grieve for the Wens all over again. He’s done it before, of course - too many times to count. But it hits him anew that this time he hopefully won’t need to, he can save them too this time like he couldn’t before, and his mind suddenly floods with memories he’s been fighting hard for years to keep at bay for his own sanity’s sake.

Wen Qing brushing her slender fingers over the ropes and talismans holding her brother in one piece while Wei Ying had called for his wandering soul over and over. Wen Ning and his gentle face splattered in mud and gore in stark flashes of lighting, his lifeless visage suspended in glistening drops of rain each time the sky lit up. A-Yuan clinging to his legs too many times to count, calling him ‘Xian-gege’ and holding his little arms up to be held. Uncle Four and his wine and his hands so accustomed to farming after a lifetime of coaxing a living from the earth. Granny Wen’s gentle fussing over any- and everyone, her kindness and love for the broken remains of their family. The small cluster of aunties mending everybody’s rough, workworn clothes the best they could with needles he had carved for them out of bones he found while cleansing the planting fields.

“Shh Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan murmurs softly in his ear and Wei Ying becomes aware that he’s not alone, his husband’s tiny arms are wrapped around him and his forehead pressed to his temple. “They are alive, it’s alright. You will see them all again.”

It takes a while longer for the worst of his surge of grief to work its way through him but he manages it eventually. It helps that Lan Zhan – who by now knows well the shape of his grief - refuses to let go of him the entire time, his arms tight around him to hold all the broken pieces of him together until he can do it for himself again. Madam Lan for her part, simply watches and waits with the sort of calm patience Wei Ying has only ever seen in Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen. At least now he knows precisely where it came from.

“I’m s-”

“Do not apologize to me - I can see it in your eyes, ” she says when he can finally muster up the strength to speak. He snaps his mouth shut with a little click and leans heavily into Lan Zhan’s chest, suddenly tired. He has to say, that’s his least favorite part about being a kid again so far - he’s full of energy, full of energy, full of energy, and then all the sudden he crashes with almost no warning. His stomach is still growling though and so he frees one arm to reach out and dutifully start eating the congee Lan Zhan had brought him, his other hand curled tightly into Lan Zhan’s sleeve to keep him right there while he eats.

“We have to save them,” he says quietly when he’s about halfway through his little meal. “I don’t care what it takes. I failed them once, I can’t again.”

“We will,” Lan Zhan soothes. “We will make it so they do not need saving at all, they will flourish.”

Wei Ying finds that he really has nothing to say to that so he simply nods and snuggles closer to Lan Zhan as he finishes eating. He can’t keep himself from yawning widely almost as soon as the last spoonful is gone and Lan Zhan, being Lan Zhan, immediately bullies him up and over towards his bed despite Wei Ying’s laughing protests. In hardly any time at all he finds himself wrapped up in a little blanket burrito too tightly to move.

“Hey,” he protests weakly, already well aware that when Lan Zhan is in a mood like this there’s no swaying him.

“Rest,” he says in a tone that brooks absolutely no argument.

“You can’t really expect me to be able to sleep when I finally found you again,” Wei Ying retorts, though his argument would probably be more impressive were he not blinking long and slow and fighting not to yawn again. Thankfully Lan Zhan just blinks at him for a long moment before he clambers up to join him, laying down on his side facing him to press their foreheads together, the metal cloud in the center of his ribbon warm with his body heat.

“Rest,” he says again, his voice gentle and sweet. Wei Ying can’t help but smile at that, Lan Zhan’s cute little child’s voice, and he loses the fight against his eyelids (and the adrenaline crash) as Lan Zhan reaches up to stroke his hair back from his temple.

He’s not quite sure how long he sleeps for, but when something disturbs his rest it’s still light outside at least, and Lan Zhan is still laying with him with his eyes shut, though whether it’s in sleep or in deep meditation is impossible to tell.

“The boys are sleeping,” Madam Lan says softly. “A-Ying was tired when he calmed down and Zhan-er needed a nap as well, come back for him later.”

“Lan-furen I apologize for the intrusion,” a low voice replies and Wei Ying wakes up a little further as he recognizes it as Jiang Fengmian. “A-Ying has been very afraid of being apart from me since he learned of the discussion conference, I only want to make sure that he’s doing alright.”

“Zhan-er helped distract him from his distress,” Madam Lan replies smoothly and Wei Ying has to duck his head to hide his face in the blankets so he can giggle too quietly for anyone but Lan Zhan to possibly hear. “They’re quite taken with each other, thank you for bringing him with you. I understand that it is not typically done.”

“Thank you for offering to take him for the day. I didn’t think that word had reached ahead that we would have A-Ying with us, it was a…last-minute decision.”

Wei Ying has to hide another giggle as Jiang Fengmian so delicately dances around the truth, which is that the morning of his departure two days prior Wei Ying had clung onto his robes like a burr and wailed and wailed until he and Madam Yu had agreed that his separation anxiety was too strong for him to stay in Lotus Pier while Jiang Fengmian left. It wasn’t entirely a lie, anyway – he still struggled with having any of his family out of his sight for too long. He can’t help but fear that each time will be the last, though he’s getting better with it. He just…hammed it up a bit, just enough to be brought along.

“Oh I didn’t know to expect him,” Madam Lan deflects. “I wanted Zhan-er to practice greeting people he hasn’t met before, we were simply lucky that we were there and that they seem to approve of each other.”

“May I see him?”

“How long does he usually sleep when he naps?”

“A few hours.”

“Ah he should wake soon then. Alright,” Madam Lan allows and Wei Ying closes his eyes again to watch surreptitiously through his lashes as she lets Jiang Fengmian into the Jingshi. It’s…extremely strange to see the man in the space that Wei Ying very much still thinks of as his home despite having lived in Lotus Pier for the last year since the array. Perhaps ‘jarring’ is a better word for this collision of his past and present and…future?

He no longer knows how to think about time. It doesn’t move in an easy, linear fashion for him anymore. His past has become his present and yet he also longs for the things that he and Lan Zhan had left behind when they did this, the things that no longer exist how he knows them. He misses their son and their rabbits and everything that they had been sharing with each other since he woke in Mo Xuanyu’s body. He is a child of Lotus Pier, he runs and laughs and swims and plays with his siblings as any child should. He is the Yiling Laozu, he still remembers the screams of the dead and dying. He has nightmares full of blood and corpses, some of them friends, most of them strangers. He can usually ignore this strange doubling of his life, but here in Cloud Recesses with Jiang Fengmian, the face of Lotus Pier, in the midst of it, it’s…he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Whether it’s because he heard his mother talking, or he’s responding to the sudden tension in Wei Ying’s entire body, or perhaps simply because of lucky timing, Lan Zhan’s eyes flutter open just in time for Wei Ying’s breathing to grow a little too erratic as his heart pounds in his chest.

Lan Zhan nuzzles closer and sneaks a bare ghost of a kiss to his lips, soft as butterfly wings and nothing but sweet, chaste reassurance. As far as Wei Ying is concerned, it shows just as much love and care as every other kiss they’ve shared over the years and it works to remind him that at least he’s not facing this alone. Lan Zhan must be subjected to the same sort of confusion as well, living in their home with his once-long-dead, now-very-alive mother and reconciling the past he remembers with the present they had left behind to become their future once again. Or is it still their future when it won’t happen again?

Wei Ying has spent hours thinking himself in circles worrying over the same questions, his natural inquisitiveness unable to leave the problem alone even though he recognizes that answers to such things are impossible. As far as he’s aware, after all, this has never been done before. He and Lan Zhan only have each other to rely on in this, and while he doesn’t need anybody else it is sometimes disconcerting to realize that for perhaps the first time in either of their lives they are truly alone together against the world.

At least in this one way, he amends, because as Jiang Fengmian approaches the bed and reaches out carefully over Lan Zhan to run a hand through his hair Wei Ying is reminded that though his family will never know or understand what he has faced, they’re still his family. They’re still here. He and Lan Zhan can have their families back at least, even if their loved ones will never know or understand what has happened to them before.

He stirs as if waking and blinks one eye open to squint up at Jiang Fengmian with a little moue, bottom lip sticking out and a frown pinching between his brows.

“A-Ying, it is time to go to our own rooms.”

“No,” he pouts and wriggles one of his arms far enough out of his blanket cocoon to curl his fingers tightly in Lan Zhan’s robes. “Staying with Zhanzhan.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes narrow at him and Wei Ying just barely manages not to crack up at his obvious disapproval of the nickname.

“A-Ying –“

“Zhanzhan is my husband!” he declares and that earns him a wide-eyed glare from Lan Zhan that finally does break his pout into a wide grin. “I want to stay!”

“Oh dear,” Madam Lan tuts from behind her hand and Wei Ying is positivethat it’s to hide a smile. “I did say they were quite taken with each other. Children say such silly things every once in a while, Jiang-zongzhu, I am not offended.”

“A-Ying you are too young to marry. Lan-er-gongzi is not your husband.”

“My husband!” Wei Ying protests and he lets go of Lan Zhan’s robes to instead take his hand, and because Lan Zhan can’t deny him anything he wants he tangles their fingers together, turns onto his back, and sits up and look up at Jiang Fengmian with his solemn little face. Wei Ying watches him blink a few times and then give a decisive nod, slow and ponderous.

“Married to A-Ying.”

It takes everything in his little body not to burst out laughing at the utterly nonplussed look on Jiang Fengmian’s face – in fact he’s trembling with the effort of keeping himself mildly under control, though his grin has certainly crossed over into ‘manic’. He looks at Madam Lan halfway across the room only for her to wink at him and he loses his battle of wills. With all the renewed energy from his nap he manages to squirm out of the blanket Lan Zhan had wrapped him in to throw his arms around his husband and hug him tightly, squishing their cheeks together and looking up at Jiang Fengmian with laughter dancing in his eyes.

“Married to Zhanzhan!”

Jiang Fengmian sighs and closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing at his eyes. Wei Ying has absolutely made himself known as a mischievous little sprite of a child over the last year so he’s sure that Jiang Fengmian isn’t surprised, but he’s also quite sure that he’s currently thinking of the propriety and stuffiness of the Lan and wondering just how he’s going to get out of this one. Wei Ying, of course, has no intention of letting this get swept under the rug like a standard childhood affection might.

“Lan-furen,” he begins, sounding pained as he turns around to face her, and Wei Ying takes the opportunity to sneak a quick, silent peck of a kiss to Lan Zhan’s chubby cheek as thanks for humoring him. “I apologize for imposing further but may I leave A-Ying here while I fetch Lan Qiren?”

“May I ask why you would like to involve my brother-in-law?”

“If you are…amenable, it is..not outside of our practices to arrange a betrothal.”

“Really? So young?” she asks and this time she sounds genuinely surprised. Wei Ying is less so as he is, of course, aware of Jiang Yanli’s betrothal to Jin Zixuan since their infancies, but that had been arranged by the close relationship of Yu Ziyuan with her sworn sister, not the choices of the children in question. The idea that a betrothal could be proposed for him and Lan Zhan based first and foremost on their affection for each other isa bit of a surprise, but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“If you are opposed of course we need not pursue it, it’s childish fantasy on their part. But I don’t see a reason why we shouldn’t secure a strong allyship between our Sects. If the children are already fond of each other it may one day bloom into a good match.”

Oh Uncle Jiang you have no idea, Wei Ying thinks to himself with poorly-disguised glee.

“Married to Zhanzhan!!” he shouts, practically vibrating with the joy of the idea of being able to make that true literally as soon as physically possible. Of course he knows that that probably means they’ll have to wait until they’re teenagers at least, but that’s worlds better than how long he had made Lan Zhan wait the first time.

“No yelling,” Lan Zhan reminds him softly with a squeeze of his fingers and Wei Ying allows the correction with a nod as he lays his head down on Lan Zhan’s shoulder.

Whether Lan Qiren agrees to a betrothal now or later doesn’t matter. Whether Jiang Fengmian is willing to humor him now with the expectation that he’ll forget about Lan Zhan when they’re no longer in the same place together is irrelevant. What matters is that he has his husband back, and while he knows that he’ll have to leave him behind briefly to return to Lotus Pier, now that he knows they have an ally in Madam Lan he’s sure that he’ll be able to sneak Lan Zhan some letters, and receive some in return. And they’ll grow up together, and they’ll help everyone they can, and Wei Ying is going to get a lifetime to love him with everything he has.

[slashnatic]

Thomas, Bo, Jason reacting to hearing their baby laugh for the first time?

The Slashers hearing their baby laugh for the first time

pronouns: none

Thomas Hewitt

It was late in the afternoon when Thomas sat down on the porch, exhausted from a day of work. He knew you were in the kitchen, or maybe in the living room. He knew your plan for today had been to make apple jam with Luda Mae and, of course, taking care of your baby. A little longer than three months ago you had given birth to your sweet baby girl. She was a fairly quiet child and didn’t cause a lot of trouble. She was a happy kid too, something that made Thomas happy as well. He was scared for the child throughout your whole pregnancy. He was afraid the baby would be deformed like him, that the girl would have to face the same hatred he had to face growing up and even now, he was afraid she wouldn’t be healthy, he was afraid she wouldn’t be happy. But none of that seemed to be the case. She was a beautiful baby, Thomas insisted she looked just like you, she was healthy and she was happy. Most babies weren’t unhappy, but this one, his baby, seemed to be special, Thomas was sure about that. He had told you once and you had laughed, saying that he thought so because this was his child, saying that other fathers would probably say the same about their children, but he didn’t care. As he thought back to that day he decided he should look after you two. Walking inside he heard the TV in the living room, but when he walked past it he only spotted Monty and Hoyt. He didn’t hear anyone talking, except for Julian Winston, as he told Toni Simmons that he was the biggest bastard in the whole world, earning a dry laugh from his uncles. He didn’t like watching TV, although he found this particular Comedy somewhat entertaining. He didn’t stop to watch for a little longer though. He wanted to see you and he wanted to see his baby girl. He had only had a chance this morning when you three, or rather two, as your girl was the reason for this, had woken up. And since he hadn’t heard any talking he assumed mama wasn’t there, so he could spend some family time, involving only the three of you.

You sat on one of the old wooden chairs, the sweet girl placed in your lap, as you excitedly moved the spoon towards her, moving it up and down and making noises that most likely were supposed to imitate the ones of a plane. You were even more excited than the kid. Smiling widely you looked up at him. “Fresh apple jam,” you stated. “Mama and I made it, it’s good. She seems to like it too! Do you want to taste it?” He shook his head. He didn’t want to taste the apple jam; he’d rather watch his child taste the apple jam. You handed him the spoon. Irritated he looked at you, but you nodded towards the little girl. You wanted him to feed her. Now he was just as excited as you, as he took the spoon and moved it towards your daughter, imitating your motions from earlier. She looked at him and then at the spoon, her eyes fixated on its movements. And then it happened. At first it was just a small giggle, he had heard that before. But the longer she watched the spoon the louder her giggles became, until she was wholeheartedly laughing. His eyes were wide and there was a glimmer in them he himself would’ve been surprised about if he had seen it. He would’ve never thought he could find this kind of happiness and yet here he was. With you. And with his child. He joined in on the laughter and soon did you, enjoying the uncommon, but welcomed peace you had found.

Bo Sinclair

Bo hadn’t been as hyper as he had been for the last five months ever since he had been fifteen and thought he could actually find a new family and the system would not fail him. Well, the system had failed him and he did not get to have a family. Until five months ago. His relationship with you was difficult. Not because you were difficult, not because he didn’t actually want you or the relationship, but because he was difficult and loving Bo Sinclair was hard, he made sure it was. Nevertheless, you made it work. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t a bad relationship. And now you weren’t only a couple, you were parents. You were a family. It was something he had always wanted and yet he had hated the idea of it. Children, yikes. What if they would be as troublesome as he had been? But now his boy was here and he was a joy to be around. A sassy kid, happy and cheeky. His son filled him with pride and he had never felt more like a man than he did when he came home, seeing you in the living room or in the bedroom and sometimes in the kitchen, the child in your arms. He had never felt more like a man than when he came home to his family.

That was why he was so hyper, as hyper as usually only teenagers could be, when he slammed the door to your shared house open. He was full of excitement when he walked into the house. Of course he always tried his best to hide his happiness and tried to maintain serious and manly, but it didn’t always work. Today seemed to be one of those days, where he just couldn’t pretend he wasn’t completely, entirely filled with joy. You laid on the couch, the boy in your arms, playing with your hair. You were exhausted from how you had spent your day, but unfortunately your son wasn’t. He was still very energetic. Bo walked over to the couch and immediately picked up the boy, spinning him around excitedly, but carefully. “How’s my boy? Hm? How are ya lil’ man?” You didn’t need to look up to know Bo was smiling widely. “Looks like you wore mommy down, huh? Ya got that from me!” He poked the young boy’s side, making him giggle. He loved making his son happy. There would come a time when he would teach his son how to be a man. It was what he had been most excited about ever since he had known his child would be male. But for now his child was just a toddler and he knew that. He didn’t want to treat him like anything different; he wanted him to have an actual childhood, a happy childhood. He poked his side once more, then the other and then he started tickling him. The young boy was giggling and breathing heavily, as if something was building up inside of him, until he burst into laughter. Bo had never actually heard a baby laugh before. Children? Sure. Babies? Not so much. He knew he could make his kid giggle, but hearing him laugh almost made him tear up. He could make his son happy. He could make him laugh, he could make him have a happy childhood. That was all he wanted and it looked like he was doing a fairly good job.

Jason Voorhees

Jason never thought he would have children. Sex, of course, was the main problem when it came to that. And now here he was, sitting in the grass in front of the cabin, his son crawling towards him, as you pretended to “chase” him. More or less, he couldn’t walk yet. He was only four months old. Jason had to admit, he was beautiful. He would have never thought that his child could be so beautiful, but he was. He was sure he was because you were. He curiously watched the toddler crawling towards him, coming closer and closer…although it took quite a lot of time. Jason wasn’t impatient, so he observed him. He loved the little guy, he really did. He loved you, too. He loved how you loved him and he loved how you loved your son. It reminded him of his own mother, how she had loved him, cared for him and protected him. She was gone now. Sometimes he missed her, but he was a man now, he wasn’t a boy anymore. He didn’t need his mother’s protection and he didn’t need her commands anymore. He was the one who protected now; he protected his own family. And he could make his own decisions now. You had helped him learning that.

A soft smile made its way onto his lips as the boy finally arrived at his destination, his father’s lap, and you made a defeated sound, which was obviously fake, but it made the boy giggle. He carefully stroked his head. He then held it with one hand, leaning on the other. “Are you guys having a staring contest?” you asked jokingly. Jason was too focused on his son to give you an answer. Undoubtedly, he looked like you, but he did have his father’s eyes, that was for sure. The color and the shape, yes, those were his eyes. He gently patted the child’s head, while nodding, proud that he figured this little detail out. The young boy observed him and then joined in on the movement. It was a funny scene, both of them nodding in concentration as they stared at each other. It made you smile and then it made you laugh and then your laughter made your son smile and then your laughter made him laugh too. It was the first time he was laughing. Jason watched him almost all the time; he had an eye on him whenever he could. His eyes lit up just a little more and he almost started laughing too. He would’ve never thought having a family would make him so happy, but being here with his son and you, being surrounded by pure happiness, seeing and hearing it, he knew this was the only thing that could ever truly make him happy.

[coffeekaspbrak]

Maggie always had some trouble understanding her son. When she was 27 and began to feel sick in the morning she knew what it meant. Her and went weren’t exactly trying, but they weren’t being cautious either. She prays for a girl and gives birth to a little boy on a cold night in March. The baby sneezes a lot, Maggie wraps him in blankets and sings to him while Went is at work, and tries not to feel the shade of blue Richie’s blankets are. The house is empty expect for her and baby and he cries, louder than a baby should cry, she thinks. She naps on the living room couch until he cries and then screams and she drags herself out of bed. When Richie says his first words, “dada” Maggie tries not to be upset, though she’s been carrying him around and popping her lips to make the sound “mama” for months now. 

But once baby starts talking he doesn’t stop. Then, she has a talkative toddler who grows knotty black hair out of his head. No pinks or braids, but bugs and toy soldiers and a raggedy brown teddy bear. Maggie thinks he cries more than a boy should, even as young as he is. He’ll cry when he bites his tongue blabbering too fast, cry when teddy is missing for five minutes, cry when daddy is ten minutes late (she shouldn’t have taught him how to read the clock, she thinks.) He wails and Maggie wipes his tears and tries not to think about how she’d feel better if he was a girl. 

The crying slows when he’s 7 and 8 with his first real pack of friends: Billy and Stanley. They’re polite boys who sit on either side of Richie in front of the TV while Richie explosively impersonates the cartoons. He’s moved on from simply talking, now doing his “voices.” Went loved coming home and hearing Richie at the dinner table do his best voices, but he hadn’t heard Richie practicing all day like Maggie had. She tries not to get agitated, but finds herself saying “shh Richie,” in a harsher voice than she means to when she’s combing his hair and trying to watch the news. At 9, Richie makes another new friend. Smaller than the rest in their little group, she notices, but a million times snippier, rolling his eyes and hiding his giggles at Richie’s voices. He’s very polite to her “Yes, Mrs. Tozier. Thank you Mrs. Tozier.” But his voice shakes a little when he talks to her. Eddie comes over more than the other two and Mrs Tozier starts getting calls from one Sonia Kaspbrak. And it all clicks into place why Eddie’s a little afraid of her. 

That is until one day Eddie comes into the house crying (door always unlocked but Eddie usually knocked). Richie is still upstairs not knowing he’s arrived. Maggie drops her pan on the stove and comes into the hall, “Eddie?” He comes racing into her arms with more force than a tiny nine year old should have and breathes in hitches, tears coming down his face. “Eddie, sweetie what happened?” But he can’t stop hyperventilating. The way Maggie did a few weeks before the delivery. She plucks him up and plops him on the counter and tells him to breathe slowly. After a while, he calms and tells her he fell off his bike and scrapped his elbows and please please don’t tell mama or she’ll take away his bike and then he won’t be able to see Richie and bill and stanny anymore. He keeps saying it as she places a washcloth and bandaids on his cuts, please don’t tell mama. He keeps muttering it over and over. Maggie promises not to. She tells Eddie to spend the night whenever he needs to, though her mind is playing the sound of Richie’s voices in the middle of the night that are loudest when Eddie is over. She promises she won’t tell his mama. “Pinky swear?” He asks.  She’s seen the boys do it a million times, “Pinky swear.” She says and locks her pinky with his impossiblily small one. Maggie doesn’t know if she was meant to have children, but now that she does she will protect them. 

When Richie turns 13, it’s all swears and dirty jokes and street fighter at the arcade. He’s out of the house more and Maggie finds herself lonely at that. She takes up knitting and is sort of horrible at it, but she’s getting there. It’s still July, but she’s taken out some orange yarn for a sweater Richie can wear come fall. Though Richie doesn’t like to wear sweaters, she thinks. In the midst of knitting, the door opens and then slams. “Richie!” She chides to no witty response, only to the sound of running up the stairs. She drops her knitting and climbs the stairs to his room. She opens the door, “Richie you can’t keep slamming the-“ and sees Richie’s crying in a ball on his bed. “Richie? What’s wrong?” She softens and sits next to him, placing his head on her leg. “Nothing,” he insists and keeps crying. “Sweetie,” she says and lifts his head, he won’t meet her eye. He finally budges, “just stupid shit.” He says. She wants to chide him for swearing, but she saves it. “Assholes calling me names.” “What kind of names she asks?” Richie bites his lips, eyes watering more, he’s trying so hard to hold back but he’s crying like he used to as a baby. “I’m sorry mom, I’m sorry.” He says into her leg. She doesn’t understand why he’s apologizing. But she coos and tells him it’s okay.

 She doesn’t see Bill or Eddie or Stan or the new kids whose names she hasn’t learned yet for a while. She worries about them. Especially Eddie. Until one day Richie’s bringing them all around again. Maggie is annoyed at their loudness but welcomes them nonetheless, glad her son has friends. She notices a girl as one of them. She finishes her sweater one day while just Eddie is over. There was friend time and then there was just Eddie time. Best friends she thinks and tries to ease the itch at the back of her mind. The two of them come down stairs. Eddie is still shorter than Richie, he probably always will be. Maggie tells Richie to try on the sweater while they look for a snack. It’s too small on him. Maggie notices it would probably fit Eddie, it’s more Eddie’s style too. “Eddie, do you want to try it?” She asks. Eddie’s face goes a little red, “Okay, sure.” He says and Richie peels it off and passes it to him.It fits Eddie perfectly, it brings out the hazel flecks in his eyes. She tells him to keep it. “Thank you, Mrs. Tozier.” Later, the boys watch TV and before Maggie can bring them hot chocolate, she just watches them for a moment. Finds that Richie is staring at Eddie as Eddie looks at the TV. “What?” Eddie says finally. “N-nothing,” Richie stumbles in a way Maggie’s never heard before. A memory hits her,

What kind of names?I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

She remembers an old wish, for Richie to be a girl, but this time she wishes it for his sake. But he isn’t a girl. She knows what it means, the look he gave Eddie. Maggie doesn’t know if she was meant to have children, but now that she does, she will always love them.  

[little-kat07]

The Perfect Cake

[OH MY GOD GUYS LOOK WHAT I FOUND!!! 

A couple days ago, i suddenly remembered that I HAVE AN AO3 ACCOUNT. I completely forgot I had one. So I went back and looked at my works and holy hell guys, I had a ONESHOT BOOK! BUT I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT ONESHOTS WERE SO I CALLED THEM ‘Sanders Stories’, BECAUSE THEY WERE SANDERS SIDES. THEY’RE KIND OF CRAPPY BUT ALSO REALLY NOSTALGIC AND I’M SO HAPPY I FOUND THEM!!!!

This one particular one is called “The Perfect Cake,” and i’m actually kind of proud of past me for it, even though it’s not that good. It’s fluffy Logicality with a gallon of Patton angst because that is literally all I’m good at writing.

So I’m going to leave this here, as well as a link to the book! GUYS I’M JUST SO HAPPY!]

[In case you’re confused, the link I send will be to the whole book so the first chapter isn’t the one that I’m pasting here. This chapter, The Perfect Cake, is the second oneshot and the first one is prinxiety]

Link to book

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Pairings: Logicality

TW: Baking, feelings of worthlessness, crying, birthday, breakdown

Summary: It’s Logan’s birthday tomorrow, and Patton is determined to bake the PERFECT cake for it (Even if he hasn’t baked that much before.) He’s trying his best, but he can’t do it alone.

---

Patton stood in the center of the kitchen.

He often had the same feeling in his stomach before he cooked something big; He had to mentally prepare himself for hours of work.

Logan's Birthday was tomorrow, and Patton had to make it the best possible birthday! This was the anniversary of the first day Thomas went to preschool- the day Logan was formed.

Patton remembered that day like it was yesterday. He remembered a small toddler with an intelligent sparkle in his eye knocking on the door of the commons, he remembered how he swore Patton's hugs might suffocate someone. He remembered growing up with him, and slowly falling in love, and-

Shoot. No. These emotions weren't logical, it was impossible for Logan to like Patton back. He had to stop thinking like that.

Illogical feelings or not, tomorrow was Logan's day to shine, and it had to be perfect. Patton had to bake the most amazing, most beautiful, most delicious cake ever to grace the Mind-scape.

Patton took a deep breath and got to work.

After a few hours, Patton had been worked to death. He had been trying and trying to make the perfect cake, but it was always just wrong, or the product of a mistake. His pink apron was wrinkled and dirty, and he had streaks of batter all over his face. He had started at 6 am, and it was now 8. He sighed and rubbed his face, grateful that he still had his optimism.

"Patton? You ok, Padre?"

Patton turned to find Roman standing in the kitchen doorway, eyes sparking with worry.

Patton smiled. "Oh, I'm alright, kiddo. Just trying to bake a cake for Logan. I can't seem to get it right."

Roman smirked and came in. "Want some help? I've never baked before, but I'll help if it's bothering you."

Patton grinned and gave the Prince a huge hug. "Thank you so much, kiddo! I'm sure you will be a great help!"

Oh, how wrong Patton had been.

Virgil had often joked about how Roman wouldn't stop singing to save his life, and Patton was pretty sure that was true. Every 5 minutes, just as they started to get some work done, the prince would start belting out lyrics to disney songs or dancing around the kitchen. They got as far as perfectly mixing the batter before Patton had to stop him.

"Look, kiddo..." Patton started, rubbing his hands together and trying to find a way to put this nicely. "You helped me make the perfect batter, and I am so proud of you for that, but I think maybe you should clock out? You have been a great help, but you... Um... Sing a lot." Patton winced, afraid Roman was going to be offended.

Roman nodded in understanding and put a hand on patton's shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it. I know I can be distracting. Do you want me to go see if Virgil will help you?"

Patton nodded, thankful. "That would be great!"

Roman left the kitchen yelling "HOT TOPIC! PAT WANTS YOU!"

Patton watched him go with a proud smile, and then turned to clean up the kitchen.

Just as he was halfway through cleaning, Virgil came into the kitchen with his hood up. "Sup', Pop star?"

Patton grinned and gave Virgil a big hug, which the emo reluctantly returned. "My dark, strange son! I am baking a cake for Logan’s birthday, and I need your help!" Patton pulled away from Virgil, smiling. "Roman already helped me make the batter, but he can be a bit much in the kitchen. Would you mind helping out for the rest of the process?"

Virgil shrugged. "I have nothing better to do."

Patton knew that that was Virgil's way of saying "I would love to."

Virgil was very helpful cleaning up the kitchen. He had a sort of efficient way of doing things, just one after the other, not saying a word. It was kind of satisfying to watch.

It got a bit hectic after that, though. Once they were done cleaning, they had to pour the batter into the pans. It was going to be a big cake, like, "Corpse Bride" big. So they had to use multiple pans and lots of batter. Virgil had violently shaky hands, and had lots of trouble pouring the batter in. In the end, Patton had to pour all the batter himself, and the kitchen ended up very messy.

Virgil's eyeshadow was darker than when he had initially come in. "I-im sorry... I didn't mean to mess up, I just-"

Patton smiled at him and pulled him into a hug. "No no, you didn't do anything wrong, kiddo! You just had a little trouble with steadying your hands. I'm very proud of you for helping me clean up, but maybe we should get someone else to help us here? Maybe Jan?"

Virgil smirked sadly. "I think maybe i'll duck out for now, but I'll tell Janus you want his help."

"Thanks, son!"

Virgil stepped out of the kitchen yelling "HEY SNAKE BOY!"

Patton sighed. This was not going the way he had wanted it to. He did realize that if Janus ended up being bad at this, his last choice was Remus, and he was terrified of going down that road.

He had just cleaned the batter from the stovetop when Janus walked into the kitchen. "Hey Pat, did you need something?"

Pat smiled tiredly. "Hey, Janjan. I was going to bake a cake for Logan, but i'm having some trouble. Roman and Virge weren't so good at it, so I wanted to see if you would help?"

Jan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm tooooootally not disappointed that you worked with Emo and Sir Singalot before you thought about the second smartest person here," He said sarcastically.

"Mm-hm!" Patton managed to say before taking a deep breath to control himself.

Janus helped Patton bake the cake and even out the tops with a bread knife. The next thing they had to do was spread the buttercream filling on the layers so they could be stacked.

Jan looked in the fridge like Patton told him to. "I don't see the buttercream."

Patton walked over and scanned the fridge. It was gone.

He took a few deep breaths and ran a hand through his hair. "Where the heck is it? If I have to make more, I swear I will-"

"Make more of what?" Remus poked his head into the kitchen curiously.

"The buttercream filling for Logan's cake is gone."

Remus cocked his head. "Buttercream? Hmmm... OH! Yeah, I ate that."

Patton's eyes widened. "You did WHAT?" Remus smiled fearfully while Patton yelled. "THE ONE THING YOU EAT THAT IS ACTUAL FOOD, AND IT HAS TO BE THE BUTTERCREAM?"

For once, Janus looked worried. "Patton, are you ok? You aren't acting like yourself..."

The dad side breathed in and out rapidly, his hands running through his hair. He tried to calm himself down- He was the happy side, not the angry side. He could get through this. "I'm fine. I'm calm. I can do this."

"Gee, I'm sorry, Pat," Said Remus. He suddenly grinned. "I can throw it up for you, if you want!"

"NO! No, no. I think we will be ok," Janus said, pushing Remus out of the room. He turned to face Pat. "Patpat, are you ok?"

Janus sometimes called Patton Patpat, mostly as payback for Patton calling him Janjan. But when the two became good friends, they used them as nicknames instead.

"I'm fine, Janjan. I'm just having some feelings. Feelings are okay though! I'm ok."

Janus sighed. "If you say so."

They worked together to make a new batch of buttercream, allowing the cake to cool. The original buttercream had been baby blue, but Patton had no more baby blue dye, so they used indigo instead. They layered and stacked the cake with the buttercream, used support sticks to keep the cake from falling over, and then started to layer it with dark blue fondant.

Patton looked over at Janus. "Would you mind taking off the gloves? Sorry, but this is very delicate and I think you should use your bare hands."

Janus frowned. "I shouldn't. I have scales on my left hand, if I use it, it will leave a scale imprint on the fondant."

Patton blinked sadly at him. "Oh, ok."

Patton handled the fondant, and as he fit it into place, he thought the cake looked beautiful. "Only one thing left to do: DECORATE!!!"

Patton was an amazing decorator.

After years of theming cookies and cupcakes to each side, baking birthday cakes, and writing messages in crofters jelly for a scavenger hunt, Patton had a handle on how to make things look presentable. Right now, It was a giant 3-layer cake with blue fondant covering, but soon, it would be a masterpiece.

Janus coughed uncomfortably behind Patton. "Um... Since i'm not very good at this stuff... Can I go? I have my own present I wanted to work on."

Patton smiled at him. "Sure! Don't spoil anything to Lolo, ok?"

Deceit nodded and almost left the kitchen before turning back and saying, "Uh, hey, Patpat? Don't stress yourself out too much, 'Kay?"

Patton nodded back. "Of course."

Janus smiled, relieved, and left.

---

---

Patton was SO TIRED.

It was 8 in the morning on Logan's Birthday. Patton had worked all night on that cake and when he had finally finished it, he went right to bed without doing anything in between. He had just woken up, feeling groggy and confused, but he made himself get out of bed because it was Logan's special day.

Logan woke up that day happy. He knew that a birthday was pointless, it was a celebration of one year passing in an entities life, it made no logical sense. But if the other sides wanted to shower him with attention once per fricking year, he did not want to miss this chance.

Patton got out of bed the last out of all the others. Logan had woken up to the other four sides, Janus, Remus, Roman, and Virgil ready for him in the living room with gifts and treats. Logan had thought that Patton would be the first there, energized and grinning, the way he always was. But Patton was nowhere in sight.

When Patton did come out, he put on his best happy face and gave Logan the biggest hug he could muster. Logan smiled a little. "To this day, I swear, your hugs might suffocate someone!"

Patton laughed and grinned at him, just happy he had gotten through yesterday.

First, they made breakfast. Jan made waffles with crofters jelly and eggs, and they all sat around the table reminiscing about the past. They talked about when logan first got his glasses, when he had a stutter, and everything else that Patton could remember. Which was everything, since Patton kept every memory stored in his room.

Next, they had gifts. Roman gave him a lab in the imagination; with chemistry sets, a telescope, and books upon books upon books. It was his own little area in Roman's realm so Logan could enjoy himself every now and then. Virgil gave him a dictionary of every word in the world, in every language. Janus gave him a replica of the Library of Alexandria, with all of the scrolls and books still there. "The original one was burned down with all of it's knowledge," he said, "So here is-" "OH MY GOD I LOVE IT THANK YOU!" Remus gave Logan an animal to dissect. But it wasn't a real animal, it was something Remus had made to give Logan something to do.

Patton promised Logan that his gift would come after dinner. He felt as though his cake paled in comparison to all of the gifts his friends had given. I mean, the Library of Alexandria? Patton sunk lower in his chair.

After gifts, they had lunch in a beautiful field that Roman had created, where the flies ate grass instead of your food, and every bird was adorned with beautiful shimmering colors and tail feathers. They had PB&J sandwiches (with crofters, of course), Goldfish, and apples. They talked for hours about nothing in particular, every now and then asking Roman about the creatures that walked by.

Logan was having a great time, but something seemed off. He looked around at the group and his eyes settled on Patton. The more he looked at him, the more tired he seemed. Logan noticed shadows under Patton's eyes for the first time, and saw that his smile was beginning to look more and more forced. Logan began to worry that one of them had done something wrong. The usual bundle of joy and energy that was Patton looked a lot more docile and tired than before.

Once it started to get dark (because Roman had set a day-night cycle in the imagination just so they would know when to go) they went back to the commons for dinner. Janus cooked some brown sugared ham with peas and rice, while Patton left to get the cake ready.

As Patton walked into the kitchen, he took a look at the cake on the pedestal. Dark fondant with baby blue frosting in swirls, and a little fondant necktie decoration on the second tear to tease about Logan's necktie. The name "Logan" was scribbled in white frosting on top.

He remembered the tall pillars in the Library of Alexandria Jan had made, he remembered the sparkling equipment Roman had conjured. He remembered the giant dictionary, the animal-

Patton looked at the cake and sighed. He honestly didn't know what he was thinking. But this was what he had done. He would just have to work with it, and maybe make up for it with a different gift later.

He picked up the large cake in his arms. It was very heavy, and there was one whole room between the kitchen and the dining room; the living area. Patton just had to bring it over.

He left the kitchen with the cake, and he was doing well with it considering he couldn't see his feet, and then he tripped.

...and then he tripped.

His foot caught against something on the ground and he stumbled, causing the cake to drop out of his arms and onto the floor. It fell sideways, and broke upon impact, and the cake broke up on the floor. Bits and pieces everywhere. Patton had fallen, and he had scraped his elbow, but he didn't care. He didn't care anymore.

He had spent a whole god-forsaken day trying to get this right. He remembered Roman's singing, Virgil's shaky hands, Remus's eating habits, Janus' scales, and he could feel himself sinking into the ground. He just wanted this to be perfect. Logan deserved something perfect.

The cake was broken, and the world was quiet, and Patton wondered for a moment if he had gone deaf. The Mindscape was silent. He felt the tears on his cheeks, but he didn't cry. Patton was the joyful and happy side, so he didn't cry. Water fell from his eyes in waterfalls and rivers across his skin, but he wasn't crying, that's not how he worked. Even when sobs racked his body and made his chest hurt. He wasn't crying.

It was just a god forsaken cake, why the heck was he crying? It was just a cake. It was just a cake.

Shoot, this isn't ABOUT THE CAKE.

Logan and all the other sides sat in the dining room, talking happily about whatever came to mind. Patton had left to get the cake, but he hadn't come back yet. Logan had eaten his dinner and was now staring at the door. He tried to focus on the conversation, but he thought Patton seemed a little late.

"Hey, Nerd, whatcha' looking at?" Roman asked, walking up behind his chair, bending down, and following Logan's line of sight.

Logan didn't turn his gaze from the door. "I feel like Pat should have been back by now. Actually, Roman, maybe you could check on him?"

Behind Logan's back, Roman and Virgil exchanged a glance, and Roman understood immediately.

"Actually, Lo, maybe you should go check on him? It is your cake after all."

Logan stood up from his chair and walked out of the dining room. "I suppose so."

Virgil snickered. "Oh my god, he is so oblivious. I ship them so badly..."

Logan walked out of the dining room and almost choked.

Patton was on the floor, with his hands in his face. Was he crying? Patton didn't cry. He was too happy to cry. He was too fricking perfect to cry. WHO THE HECK MADE PAT CRY?

Then logan saw the floor. The cake, he realized, was broken up and smashed to bits on the ground. The fondant was ripped apart, save for a small black fondant necktie. Patton must have dropped the cake. It looked like it had been big.

Logan didn't hesitate for a second. He kneeled down beside Patton, wrapping his arms around him and quietly letting him sob.

Patton felt someone's arms around him, and they had glasses, he knew, because the glasses were pressed against his temple. But that meant it was Logan. Logan was here, and he can see the cake, and he is probably so mad. Patton wrapped his arms around Logan and cried into his shoulder. He didn't like Logan to be angry. Hugs fixed that. Right?

"Pat? Patton, don't cry, what's wrong?"

Patton could barely find the breath to speak.

"I-I dropped it. The thing... I-I mess-Messed up... It's all g-gone..."

"Shhhh. Shhh, it's not your fault, don't worry. Patton, I love the cake. It's looks like it was beautiful, thank you."

Patton just kept sobbing, his glasses getting foggy. Logan knew the side was emotional, but really, it was just a cake, and Logan wasn't even mad at Patton. In fact, Logan didn't think he was capable of being mad at Patton.

Patton was sad about the cake. Of course, it was horribly destroyed, and he had spent a long, tiresome day making it perfect. And now it was all gone, and Patton had no gift to give.

To Pat, this was bigger than that though. Logan was supposed to have the perfect birthday, but Patton had messed all of that up. He had nothing to give logan. Every day of his life, his goal was to give something, to be helpful, and to care for others. He had messed up today.

"I-i don't know wh-what to do. I just... I just wanted-d to g-give you something. I-It's a-all gone n-now. Th-the d-day is ruined."

Logan frowned. What would someone with a better sense of emotions say? Seeing Patton like this made him so sad, what could he do?

He remembered something Pat had said to him a long time ago, when he was getting used to emotions. 'When someone is feeling down, speak from the heart! The best thing you can do is tell them the truth, and if they don't like it, then they have a right to feel a little sad. But you should still try!'

"Pat, I know you are sad. I understand that you wanted to make this a good day, but it WAS a good day. I enjoyed every moment of today. Sure, the cake is messed up, but it's the thought that counts, and you are already the best gift I could ask for."

Patton looked up in confusion. "Me?"

Logan was usually really bad at emotions, but right now, emotions seemed to be all he could muster. "You are so caring and joyful. And sweet. And kind. And I don't care about the cake, or any gift you give me, the fact that you are so set on making me feel cared for is enough. I'm just happy you're here, ok?"

Logan brushed a tear from Patton's eye and smiled. "I'm just happy you're here."