I love a modern-AU dadfics as much as anyone, but we have to stop glossing over how Wei Wuxian adopting A-Yuan would impact the Wens. Because if he does, something has gone terribly wrong for them and it would absolutely affect everyone involved.
The issue is that A-Yuan has primary caregivers other than Wei Wuxian who should be taking care of him, and if they're not in the picture then there’s going to be a reason why. The first person missing is Granny Wen, who is Wen Yuan’s actual caregiver in mdzs and would most likely be taking care of him. Unfortunately in most dad!xian fics she's immediately fridged or has her grandchild taken away from her due to her age off-screen—which would be deeply traumatic for everyone involved, especially if she’s subsequently unable to be involved in her grandchild's life.
The second person who would be taking care of A-Yuan before Wei Wuxian is Wen Qing. Sometimes the in-fic reason for her not being his caregiver is due to unavoidable circumstances (usually financial issues, which like. yikes), but most of the time it comes down to Wen Qing not really… wanting? to be a caregiver, often because she’s too busy or is putting her career first or is just too much of a GirlBoss. So she chooses to adopt out Wen Yuan to Wei Wuxian (again, off-screen) and that's the end of that.
Listen. Not everyone wants to be a parent. Not everyone should be a parent, or can. It’s a reasonable and valid decision to prioritize other parts of your life over parenthood—especially if being a parent or caregiver wasn’t your choice in the first place. But Wen Qing is going to have SOME kind of feeling about letting A-Yuan be adopted out of her family, and that feeling is probably going to be complicated or bittersweet, if not painful. Not only because she’s, you know, a human being with emotions, but Wen Qing’s primary motivation in the book is to take care of her family and keep them together. So her deciding “nah, I’m too much of a girlboss to be a caregiver, here’s a free kid and I’m going to feel absolutely nothing about this cause it’d be inconvenient for the fluff” is not only a dismissal of how complicated that decision would be for her, it’s also wildly out of character. No matter what the reason is, she's going to feel something about it.
(I’m not getting into how Wen Ning is never tapped as another potential caregiver btw because we're really not ready to talk about ableism just yet)
If you love the idea of Wei Wuxian adopting A-Yuan in your modern au, there’s are a couple of changes that can address this. One is to make Wen Yuan not related to Wen Qing and the shared surname is just a coincidence, like Lan Jingyi. Another is to have them be a blended family where they’re all caregivers for A-Yuan, or have Wei Wuxian be his primary caregiver but help A-Yuan actively maintain a connection to his family of origin. Or have Wei Wuxian adopt A-Yuan but the Wens actually get have feelings about it for once, regardless of why it happens—sorrow, frustration, relief, gratitude, regret, something. Let Wen Qing have complicated feelings and let them shape her relationship with Wei Wuxian, too, for better or worse or just messier. Maybe even let Wei Wuxian, who was also separated from his family of origin and is a walking ball of family trauma, have complicated feelings about it as well! Or go the extra mile and let A-Yuan have some emotions about it for once, because regardless of the context the loss or change of support structures is traumatic, especially for a small human.
Anyway read A Temporary Fix by Bosgood for your complex Wen family feels (feat. Lan Wangji adopting Wen Yuan, because all of this goes the same for him as well).
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pluvi begging you to expand on gojo not wanting what happened to his mother to happen to you 🙏
warnings: it’s all a dream so nothing is real aside from the flashback stuff but pregnancy as horror, (sewing) needles, implied gore/eye trauma, implied child harm, gojo is messed up yo!!! and its bc of his mama!!!
he dreams about her.
it’s an odd thing, really. gojo isn’t much of a dreamer—not much of a sleeper, all things considered, but it’s difficult not to give in when you drag him to bed and curl up in his arms. the soft rise and fall of your chest, the steady thump of your heart, the sound of your breath; it soothes him into slumber.
and he dreams about her. she was always young. he’s older now than she ever got to be. frail, thin; borderline skeletal, robes hanging from her body like webbing. she sits in a chair facing a window, swathed in moonlight, the silver of her embroidery needle glinting with each stab. her face is veiled. her stomach is swollen with child.
she doesn’t turn to him, but she beckons without noise. his feet take him easily to her, and he kneels at her side as she sets aside the embroidery hoop to let him place his head on her knees.
her hand is cold as it threads through his hair. it’s gentle, at first. then harsher a moment later. she grips firm, tugs him up by those electric white threads, stares down at him through all that elaborate lace.
he imagines she’s weeping beneath it. his mother never wept before him, but she was pretty in the aftermath, eyes puffy and pink and shining. they were a cold kind of loving when they regarded him. she must have been beautiful once, elegant and lithe and willowy, cruel like the heartless sea and sharp like a brilliant diamond, but whatever was there is long gone. he thinks all sons must empty their mothers, bleed them dry from within, because his was always a shell.
she trails her hand down the side of his face, and he turns into the palm and closes his eyes, and she is silent as she sets down her embroidery to lift her veil. she is silent and hollow and eidolic as her fingers brush down his jaw and tilt his head up to look at her.
but it’s your face that he sees when he opens his eyes.
it’s your hand against his cheek, your eyes pink and puffy and pretty, your stomach bulging by his own doing. it’s your fingers that pluck up the needle, still attached to a thread of brilliant cerulean, and raise it to his eye.
his mother never was able to pierce him with that needle. she stopped herself, each and every time, dropping it and tugging him close in shame. she never doted, never was kind, but she never did manage to harm him.
you do. he lets you. it’s only fair. whatever thing is in your stomach can’t be human—whether god or demon what does it matter, at the end of the day—and didn’t he put it in you himself? if his mother never got the satisfaction of spilling his blood, shouldn’t you?
but he wakes just as the tip pierces his iris, and you hold him in your lap, eyes wide with concern and not puffy from weeping, and you hold no child within you. your hands thread through his hair and they’re warm, your lips plush when you bend to press a kiss to his brow.
he turns inward to press his face into your (empty, blissfully vacant) abdomen. the wetness he leaves there, falling from his so very coveted eyes, is colorless.
he thinks it ought to be brilliant crimson.
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honestly one of my biggest disappointments with the black widow movie was how they tried to make kiddo!natasha into this, like, ~quirky~ blue-haired kid with a fairly normal childhood before they had to go back to the red room. when like. aren't you guys interested in a natasha who has never once known a normal life and yet can parody it perfectly? don't you remember the horrified delight of seeing the red room girls learning american english from copying snow white? why are you so insistent on giving natasha "real parents" and an attachment to yelena based on a childhood in OHIO when you can instead talk about natasha living in ohio as just as much of an undercover agent as her "parents". don't you see that the best horror of natasha pointing a gun at her handlers is not that she's holding a gun but that she knows how to use it???
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hey hey hey guess what! I was hospitalized around this time in May in 2014 for anorexia nervosa. I spent two weeks in the hospital and then three weeks in an inpatient program. I struggled with anorexia through high school and college and returned to restrictive eating multiple times. Food for the longest time wasn't safe. It's something I thought about day in and day out and it brought me a huge amount of anxiety and distress.
It's been a decade since I was hospitalized. I've come a long way since then and I'm proud to say that food isn't something I'm afraid of anymore. For four years now I haven't restricted or done any of my anorexic habits. There are still things that trigger that ED feeling, and I think there always will be, but I haven't felt the need to listen to it. I eat what I want, when I want, without any guilt or fear. This is something that would have been unimaginable to 2014 me. I've come so far. I'm so relived to be able to find joy in food again. I'm really proud!
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Take of the day: I want to know what Jenny Scott Kenway is actually like. We only really see bits of her in Haytham's journal, and his perspective is so incomplete and kind of garbage honestly. I want to know what kind of female rage she holds when she has all that Kenway conviction, but received none of the same opportunities, freedoms, or respect as the men in her life. She was raised alone by her mother, presumably in poverty, after her father forgot she existed. Her younger brother got a private education and let in on the 'family secrets', while she was auctioned off into marriage as part of a business deal. She was kidnapped, sold to slavers, lived as a concubine, and was only rescued some twenty years later when Haytham just so happened to think twice about it? I would be beyond murderous if that was my life.
I want to see a lady who is just as cunning and oscillating as Haytham, but for all the right reasons. She'd be elegant and snide and absolutely vicious and I adore her.
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