#I STILL LOVE THIS SO MUCH CWY

[ask-jamtheimp]

Day 6 of Regressuary

Theme: Crying

Characters: Jam @theogclownboy 's Toby, Zeek, and Ellie

Fandom: Helluva Boss/Helluvaverse

Summary: Toby talks to Jam about what happened and how he feels as well as better ways to deal with his social anxiety. Jam tries to help Zeek feel better.

Authors Note: This is a continuation from Day 5 so go read that if you haven't! Also this fic tackles things like social anxiety, panic attacks,autistic meltdowns and slight SH so if those topics are triggering to you please do not read and stay safe please.

Toby put Jam down on the floor. Jam was already shaking and crying. He was in so much trouble! He promised he didn't mean it! He can still remeber the feeling of his tail being pulled by all those bullies when he was younger he hated it! Toby could already tell Jam was stressed. And contrary to Jam's belief he wasn't angry either. He was just confused on what got him to act that way. "Jam. Kiddo your not in trouble okay? Papa just wants to know what happened between you and Zeek okay? I promise you aren't in trouble." He said as he took one of Jams hands in his. Through sniffles and sobs Jam was barley able to manage out "he-he pulled on my tawi an-and-and it-it was just wike when-when dey use ta do it befow! An-an i hate befow! I-i didn't wanna make him sad! I-i didn't I just hate dose mean-mean peoples! I don't-!!" He said before running short on breath. He was so utterly frustrated with himself. Every breath he took felt too shallow no matter what. He couldn't think straight his mind was just one loud scribble. He wanted it all to shut up so badly. Jam took both of his hands and balled them up into fists before hitting himself in the head with them. Hard. Immediately Toby grabbed his hands so he wouldn't do it again.

"Jam! Jam please-hey please don't do that...its not good its gonna hurt you bud. Look at me. Look at me please Jam." Toby said still as gently but as urgently as he could. Jam didn't have his panic attacks often but when he did they were bad. Although never this bad. He figured this mightve been a result of a meltdown and a panic attack at the same time. Quickly Toby hugged Jam tight to his chest to muffle any noise or light with his fluff and hoping that the texture would get him to calm down. What went from wailing and struggling to get his hands free to hit himself again calmed down to whimpery and hoarse crying and Jam's spent body. He mumbled into Toby's fur. "M bwoken papa...can't tawk ta no one wifout panickin n actin so so stupid! Imma dumb stupid head!" Toby cut him off quickly. "Jam you aren't you are the most lovely little tot I ever had the pleasure of meeting and caring for. The closest ive had to a son you hear me? You aren't stupid or dumb. You just seem to have social anxiety. And that's okay pup. We'll work through this and I'll be with you every step of the way okay?" Toby said as he gently pulled Jams face away from his fluff to wipe away his tears and gently kiss the top of his forehead. "I'm sorry you had to go through that in your past pup. But I promise your tail won't be pulled in that way again okay?" Toby gently asked as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and started to clean off Jams face and help him blow his nose. "Mhm.." Jam responded now feeling less manic and more tired.

After a little bottle break and a talk about ways to deal with big emotions and social anxiety Toby was recapping with Jam. "Okay and what do we do if someone we don't know, like Zeek does something we don't like?" "Ask him ta pwease no do dat. An tewll papa too if it make me feewl weally weally stwessed." Jam said, and was met with a pat on the head. "Smart boy! See? You pick up fast. What do you say now kiddo? Are you ready to go back out there? You don't have to play with Zeek if you don't want to. You can just stay with me until we go home if you'd like." "Nuh uh! I wanna say sowwy ta Zeek fow yellin n makin him cwy." Jam said as he messed with the sleeve on his sweater. "Well that's very mature of you bud. I'm sure he'll appreciate it." Toby said with a nod before heading back into the living room with a still crying Zeek and Ellie trying to rock him to calm down. "Oh dear are you two alright?" "Yes Ellie we're fine, although I think I should ask you if you and Zeek are doing alright..." "Oh yes im fine! He can just be a bit fussy sometimes is all. Exceptionally fussy." She said as she patted Zeeks back. Jam inched over to him although seemed to flinch when Ellie looked at him. "Oh, little one is there something the matter?" She asked when she noticed the little flinch at her gaze. "Um...youw not...not angey at me wight? M sowwy I yewlled weally loud an made zeek cwy. Papa says i have so-so-um...soso ant-diet-tea." Ellie chuckled at the littles mispronunciation and smiled. "Its alright little one, im not mad at all. Considering your reaction I know you didn't mean it. I could tell it was just a little mishap and thats okay! Mishaps happen sometimes. And im glad you apologized." She said with a gentle smile.

Jam felt a lot better now. Ms. Ellie seemed nice! He was glad she wasn't super angry at him. Although he had one last person to apologize to. But first he had to stop crying. Jam climbed up onto the couch next to Ellie and looked down at Zeek, he wasn't sure how to stop people from crying but he did know what Zeek liked. He dangled his tail in front of him and wagged it around a bit to have it jingle. Zeeks crying quieted down as he then looked up at Jam. "Oh it's working!" "That's my clever boy." Toby said approvingly as Zeek grabbed onto his tail again. Jam flinched hard and closed his eyes to remeber what Toby said. He wasn't grabbing his tail in a bad way, and Jam was bracing himself for pain that just never ever happened. No pulling, or name calling, or shouting. Just Zeek gently shaking his tail to make the jingling sound again. Jam allowed himself to relax and Zeek started giggling. "You go ding-ding!" He shouted and Jam smiled "Yeah! I go ding ding!" He agreed, now feeling a lot better that Zeek was feeling better. Zeek sat up and crawled off of Ellies lap and immediately hugged Jam. Jam was....confused at first but then slowly wrapped his arms around him to return said hug. He mumbled. "Um zeek...m sowwy dat I went all cwazy on you. Won't do it again I scout-pwomise." He said as he held up the symbol for scouts honor. Zeek laughed trying to copy it himself but not quite getting it right. "Dats a funny hand fingy! Buh it ok! I fowgibs you!" He said as he pulled back from the hug. Both caregivers looked at eachother relieved that everything had resolved calmly between the two. Ellie piped up "Are you two little ones hungry? I think its time for lunch." Both littles cheered before following behind her for a much needed lunchtime.

(Image by @theogclownboy )

TO BE CONTINUED ON DAY 7

Hope you enjoyed! Please like and reblog to support!

[tea-plantz]

If it's not too much trouble could I request ENA with a partner who is touch starved (Like so touch starved that a simple head pat makes their brain short circuit) but they really want to ask for smooches and/or hugs without sounding clingy or overbearing?

{ENA x touch starved!reader}

Thank you so much for that lovely request! I decided to do this one as a oneshot, hope that’s okey.

I used they/them pronouns for the reader, and she/them for ENA:)

Your POV:

Me and my girlfriend, ENA, where hanging out at Moony’s place. We were just joking around, telling stories and talking when Moony suddenly groaned loudly.

“Uuugh you guys, I’m so thirstyyyy!”

“Then why not go to the kitchen and get yourself some refreshment?” ENA responded in a cheerful voice.

“Oh yeah! Do you losers want anything?” Moony asked, but it wasn’t really a question. Before either of us could answer, Moony flew out of the room, in the direction of the kitchen.

“Well that was rude, but I seriously didn’t expect any better from Moony” I half joked, as ENA laughed a bit beside me.

“Indeed, that’s Moony alright!” She said as she ruffled my hair. I froze as my eyes widened. I could feel my brain completely shutting down as ENA’s hand was as still resting on top of my head. Lately, I’ve been craving affection from the pixelated girl, to give her all the love she deserves, but I don’t know how to do so! I don’t wanna seem annoying or clingy to them and make her think badly of me! That’s the last thing I’d want! And on top of that, even the slightest contact makes me just completely shut down! Human interaction just makes me feel so nervous, especially when it’s from ENA, but I really want to just hug them and kiss them. I need it! *sigh* I feel so helpless right now…

ENA’s POV:

Y/n’s been acting a bit weird lately. They seem a bit nervous and completely lost in thought, it kind of looks like they’re debating on something inside their head. I was currently waiting on the couch with them, as Moony was taking her sweet time in the kitchen. We sat there in melancholy silence, and I felt that something was off with my sweetheart.

“Y/n, my dear? Are you quite alright? You’re a bit quiet”

They looked up at me with glossy eyes as I could feel my heart sink. Oh no! Are they crying? Why? Did I do something wrong?! WHAT DID I DO?!!

“WAAA Y/N, I’M SO SOWWY I OFFENDED YOU AND MADE YOU CWY! I’M A HOWWIBLE PERSON! HOWWIBLE, HOWWIBLE! I- I SHOULD JUST DIE!!”

I started waving my arms around frantically, as I could feel myself starting to glitch while I wept. They jumped slightly at my sudden outburst before rushing over to comfort me.

“No no, you didn’t do anything wrong! It’s ok!” They said, sounding a bit panicked, as I stated calming down.

“So I *hic* I didn’t hurt you? Then *sniff* why were you cwying *sniff*?”

Y/n looked at me a bit before looking away, taking a deep breath. “Ok, I didn’t really wanna talk about this since frankly it’s not that important, and I don’t want to seem like a burden to you, but.. I really want to be affectionate with you”

What? They simply wanted to show me affection? I don’t understand.

“And I know this is no big deal, really, but you see I sometimes have some issues when it comes too affection, since I’m really… touch starved. And I want to be a loving partner to you, I really do! But I’m scared to come of too strong and drive you away…”

Your POV:

Great. Just great. I spilled everything! I always do.. she’s probably going to hate me now.

I carefully looked back at ENA, who was just sitting there in shock. I was about to apologize, but was cut off by a certain pixelated person hugging me tight.

“Oh Y/n! Thank you so very much for sharing this information with me! And how could you ever think that you ever were to annoy me? You are the most precious thing in my life, and I would gladly give and receive affection any time my dearest!”

ENA had now turned completely yellow, as she continued hugging me with a loving expression. I could feel my cheeks heating up as the realization of the situation caught up to me. I buried my face in their chest as a smile spread across my face, and my hands wrapped around their figure. We stayed like that for a while, simply enjoying each other’s company, before we suddenly heard a voice from the doorway.

“What the heck happened while I was gone?!”

I’m sorry if that’s not quite what you had in mind, but I hope you like it!

[cg-saturn]

hewwo saduwn 

m having a hawd time wite now cus i jus got axcepted inta a cowwege wich is weawwy good bu m awso weawwy scawed to gwow up an hafta live aw by mysewf ina state were i don kno anybody an i can’t be wif my mommy an daddy an bwoders an were i hafta fly to get to an dats weawwy weawwy scawy. 

m tuning 18 in jus a few monts an m weawwy scawed. i neva wike getting owder cus i jus wanna be widdle again an it makes me hav panic tacks an cwy wots wen i tink bout it too much. m weawwy scawed to be owder an hafta do tings by mysewf i jus wanna be baby again an not hafta wowwy bout stuffs. 

sowwy if dis is too much i jus don kno who ta tawk to bout dis an your weawwy nice an hewpful 

-cosmo (@littlespaceyboy) 

Hey little one, I want to start this off by letting you know you're not alone. Growing up is really scary and hard, but no matter what your big age is, you'll always be a little kiddo at heart.

College is not for everyone. I'm so tired of the way we (americans) pretend that you need to keep climbing the stairs instead of giving yourself a moment to rest. When you're 18, you shouldn't have to figure out the rest of your life. You are still a kid. We pretend that there's some magic change that happens as soon as you turn 18, but there isn't.

As someone who attempted college, I feel like the only thing I really learned was that I had no idea what was going on. I went for two years and didn't make any friends, the food was awful, and I really struggled with my classes. Maybe it was the school I was at, but also maybe I just wasn't ready for it. It's hard to be away from the things you know and the people you care about. For me, I was suddenly confronted by the fact that I have some severe mental disabilities that had never been delt with, like adhd and other issues. I never had to face them in high school, but suddenly I was struggling to wake up for a 9am class and getting straight d's when I was an a/b student growing up. It was a different world, and I couldn't adjust.

I also don't want to sound like I'm just dissing going to college, because I do think it's important if you have a goal in life that requires a degree, but not everyone's paths go in that direction, and I think it's important to remind the up and coming kiddos that growing up doesn't have to be as fast as we pretend it does.

If you are going to college, I do have some advice too- set your alarms and remember to eat at least twice a day. I really struggled with organization, both time and physical. Tote buckets and planners go a long way when you can remember to use them. Try to set time aside every day for assignments, and don't push them off until last minute. I know its hard to start things, but I promise the faster you get it done the less you'll have to worry about. Join a study group with kids from your classes, or go to extra credit workshops when they're offered. It helps to get out of your room and study around campus too- its a great way to socialize when you're someone like me who hates making friends, just go to the library and meet a mutual study buddy to sit silently with and maybe get dinner after.

I know being away from home is scary. No matter what home life you come from, a change in living situations is always hard. I'm so proud of you for going on such a huge adventure kiddo! And I promise- home will be there when you get back. Living now, your family is just a phone call away when you miss them. Sending letters back and forth can be really fun too, most schools give mailboxes for students to use. Definitely remember to bring your stuffies and blankies, and never forget that just because you're getting bigger doesn't mean you're any less of a little kiddo 💕

Sending you love cosmo, please feel free to dm me too if you need anything at all. I'm wishing you and all my other Littles who are moving on the best of luck, and im so so proud of you for making it through high school! @littlespaceboy

Pippi Saturn 💕

[eldritchcreatureofwords]

Care and Feeding of Little Sisters (part one.)

Powder had always been...kind of different. Even before their parents died, she'd been weirdly attached to Vi- it made a certain kind of sense, as their parents were often busy, working, and it fell to the older child to play parent to her little sister. She learned early how to change diapers (carefully, and make sure she was really done going first), how to get Powder to eat (pretend you were going to eat it all and not share), and how to get her to sleep (sing to her.) But the hardest thing to learn was how to get her to stop tantruming. She would start off a little upset, like a normal kid, then work herself up and up and up, and any attention you gave her or attempt you made to stop her would just get her going louder and harder. The first few years, Vi would get worked up in turn, storming off to her room to let Powder scream and cry herself out with her pillow over her ears. After a while, though, Vi, a little older, a little wiser, figured out what worked totally not by complete accident. She was maybe seven, just a year or so before the First Worst Day of Her Life, and she was tired, and upset about something already, and Powder had wanted something she wasn't getting and she'd started wailing. ww

At the absolute end of her rope, Vi had plopped down on her ass and started bawling into her knees. She hadn't meant to; she just had, as a child with very limited coping skills, no idea what else to do. (Though if she was being real with herself here, as an adult her coping skills were pretty damn lacking.) It only took a few minutes before she suddenly realized Powder's screaming had stopped, and there was a tiny hand on her knee, patting it with awkward, clumsy motions. "It's ok, Vi-wet." Came the sweet little reassurance, as she sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Big, worried blue eyes peered up at her from just beyond her own knees. "Don't cwy! Bunbun will fix it!" And the stuffed pig that she loved (yeah, Vi still didn't get it) got shoved into her chest. Of course, much older, long after she was 'Vi' and not 'Vi-wet', she had no issues exploiting this. Especially as, after the First Worst Day of Her Life, Powder's tantrums became...more then just normal kid tantrums. As a child, she'd work herself up, sure, but they always seemed within the realm of 'typical'. Afterwards, though- afterwards was another story. It felt like somewhere, somehow, Powder lost the ability to communicate with others. Vi was the one who 'got her' most often; but even then, when Powder would just start shrieking or throwing shit at people or hitting them even Vi was often at a total loss of what to do, here. She'd sometimes get in this place where she'd just scream and scream and scream, and if you tried to touch her she'd attack, lashing out with hands and feet and teeth. The only real way for Vi to stop her, then, was to grab her by the scruff or the hair and sit on her, pinning her hands to her sides, trapping flailing legs under her own, and ride out the storm with teeth gritted. She would howl incoherently- and the things she could make out sent stabs of pain through her big sister. I hate you, let me go, you're not my sister. "She doesn't mean it, Vi." Vander would say, gently. Vi knew that, in her head; but that didn't stop her hiding in his chest after with tears rolling down her cheeks. There were still days, though, where the counter-tantrum would work; Vander would never fail to get a kick out of watching Vi fling herself down, kicking and screaming, over-the-top loud, only for Powder to go from quickly working up to something violent and upsetting to cocking her head like a confused puppy and worriedly patting Vi's head. "Are you ok? Vi? Vi, are you okay?" She'd ask, patting Vi's head and sending Vander looks as if to say do you see this shit? Make her stop! Vi became incredibly proactive about it; jumping to action before the fit could sink into something more serious. By the time Milo and Claggor arrived, and Vi and Powder were older still, and the reverse tantrums had stopped being effective. There were more days where she would have to sit on Powder, more days where the girls would slam doors and hiss insults and, alarmingly, Vander noticed Vi struggling with her temper more and more the older she got. She was a flash in the pan; burned hot and quick, and she'd shoved Powder a couple times, knocked her down once. He worked with them. The Reverse Tantrum Maneuver no longer worked, but once Vi had held Powder down long enough, she would generally calm down and start crying calmer, more wracking tears; the deep sobs of an upset child, but not the screaming fits. Vi would gently, so gently, pull Powder into her arms, against her chest, and stroke her hair, rock her back and forth and wait out the flood. Better still, Claggor proved an amazingly effective Powder Trap. If Vi wasn't available, or sometimes even if she was around, it was better to get Claggor, who was more removed from the situation and calmer- and, um. Well. Plumper. He would stay distant, wouldn't rise to her bait, wouldn't get upset at seeing Powder so upset.

The flying elbows and feet and hands didn't seem to phase him nearly as much, and he would wrap Powder up in a backwards bear hug and just take the blows. Or, sometimes, if she wasn't where he could lift her, he would take himself to a corner of the room with Powder's crayons, and he would sing softly to himself, off key and rusty, as he scrawled pictures on the floor and walls. He sounded like a broken music box, but she would stop crying, stop screaming at the soft, happy sound of someone singing.

She would sit up, wiping her eyes, and breathing hard, and trembling all over like she was freezing, head tilting this way and that like a baby bird. Sometimes it would be a song they all knew, and sometimes, he would just make one up. Something about he and Powder finding a really great haul, or eating together, or building or drawing something. Sometimes, she'd even try to join in, stumbling over made up lyrics as she went, trying to guess what he'd sing next.

Meanwhile, Vander thought Vi and Powder would accidentally feed off each other; Vi would get worked up over Powder being worked up, and while she could calm her down, there was a chance the situation would just escalate. Which was why he tended to go for Claggor before Vi. She hated it. He knew she hated it. But she also knew he was right. Sometimes, Vi wasn't what Powder needed.

Afterword, though? She always was.

Powder usually couldn't communicate what had set her off in the first place; Vi would ask, Vander would ask, and she'd just get frustrated and worked up again trying to explain-and God forbid Mylo or Claggor try to get to the bottom of it. So they figured out, with some trial and error, a game. When she would finally calm down to the point where she could answer any questions at all, Vi would ask her, most importantly, first and foremost- "Powder, are you hurt?" If she shook her head no, they would move on to something else- are you tired, are you hungry, are you scared? If she nodded, though, Vi would smile, forcing herself to be light and playful. "Heart, head, or hinny?" She'd ask, poking Powder's chest, forehead, and hip by turns. It could, on a good day, get a giggle out of her; even on a bad day though, it helped everyone get a step closer to solving the problem. Usually, it was heart or head. Most of the time she would be calm enough to eventually admit that she had had a strange dream, or heard something that reminded her of their father's voice, or suddenly realized she couldn't remember what Mom looked like. It hurt. It hurt because she wasn't the only one; because it got harder, every day, to remember what they looked like, sounded like. But she would put on a smile, and a silly face, and tell her the stories she could remember until Powder was giggling and laughing- or distract her with a toy, or a project, or send her to 'help' Vander at the bar. She had to be the brave one, the strong one- she had to be, for Powder, even though she wanted to cry sometimes, too. Other times, her head was just- too full. There was too much, it was too loud, her thoughts wouldn't be quiet. Vi had always known there was something a little wrong with Powder; sometimes she'd hear whispering or singing where there was none, say it was from statues or artwork or her stuffed animals. She tried, for a long time, to pretend it was just an active imagination, but when it didn't stop- well.

In those cases, it was easier. If the whispering scared her, it was simple enough to threaten whatever it was, as silly as Vi felt posturing at statues or paintings and threatening in a theatrically deep voice for them to leave her sister alone. She would make faces and shadow box at them, and Powder would giggle and cheer and throw her arms around Vi's neck. (Vander would arch his eyebrows at her when he saw it, but even Mylo and Claggor would play along on good days. Once, Mylo had viciously and ruthlessly slaughtered a half-destroyed statue that kept telling Powder she was going to die;, wrapped around it's midsection and neck yelling like a banshee as Powder rolled around on the floor in tears with laughter instead of tears of fear while Vi watched on, pride in her smile.) By the time Vi was fifteen or so, Powder had almost completely out grown the tantrums. She could communicate better, explain better, understand and comprehend better. She still, on occasion, would melt down; usually if Mylo pushed her too far, or if she and Vi fought- but she'd taken to quiet sulking over screaming tantrums, usually seeking out Vander, looking for his quiet comfort. Still, Vi would always sort of- fondly remember 'heart, head, or hiney'. It made her smile when she had very little to smile about, in the cold damp of a cell, when she leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes and remembered Claggor's Powder songs, humming along softly to herself in the dark.

[cherrynojutsu]

Title: Years Past

Summary: Sakura haunts their small home in grief, feeling already a ghost even while surrounded with beautiful raven-haired children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. As she sees each and every one of them over the months that follow, a select few stare back with her own eyes. Most of them are so like her husband's, though, luciform soot flecked with silver, and she feels so sorry when she looks too long and starts to cry. Romance, Character Death, Sad With a Happy Ending, Sakura POV.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: T

A/N: A little late to this prompt, but better late than never, I suppose. This has been sitting in my drafts since June, but reading it made me emotional and I got distracted by writing things for Like Gold. I apologize for the tardiness!

Sasusaku Month 2021, Day 7 Prompt: Years Past @ssskmonth

AO3 Link - FF.net Link

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Sakura passes in her sleep, marcid and weary of a broken heart and missing mismatched eyes, at the age of eighty-two.

It is longer than most Shinobi make it by far, but she doesn't feel very grateful for it, in the last five excruciating months of her life.

Her husband hadn't made it to eighty-two; Sasuke-kun passed in December. It had been peaceful, all three of their children, most of their grandchildren, and even some great grandchildren, the ones not on missions outside of the village, at his bedside.

Sakura had been there, too, old and frail and holding his hand. She'd kissed him goodbye tearily, sensing it was almost time after decades of watching it happen to others inside secluded hospital walls. It had been in front of nearly all of their descendants, family the only thing helping to hold her together in his final moments.

He hadn't complained. He'd kissed her back, for everyone to see, and Sarada and the twins had started crying, then, squeezing their hands around those of their parents, because they knew it really was time.

He had thanked her, said her name one last time, all equanimity even then. Then, so softly, "I love you. I'll see you next time," before he went, bones settling wearily at long last.

There had been melancholy in his expression even in death, wrinkled skin turning glaucous and beginning to sag against old, hardened muscle.

Sasuke-kun was buried next to Itachi’s memorial. There is a plot he saved for her on his other side, his right arm, the hand she held so many times in life.

Sakura haunts their small home in grief, feeling already a ghost even while surrounded with beautiful raven-haired children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. As she sees each and every one of them over the months that follow, a select few stare back with her own eyes. Most of them are so like her husband's, though, luciform soot flecked with silver, and she feels so sorry when she looks too long and starts to cry. Little Satoko, their newest great-grandchild all of eleven months old who she dotes on endlessly, reaches at her wrinkled cheeks to try to wipe them dry, babbling out a garbled version of "Oobasan, no cwy." He is talking earlier than most babies, stormy eyes eerily full of awareness and an endless lineage, just like Sarada at that age. Sakura laughs as she sobs, cradling him close to her heart, and looking out her window at their daughter's visage on the mountain. It is also Satoko's grandmother's image; it is hard to believe their sweet little baby is now old enough to be a grandmother. She remembers the first time Sarada had smiled at Sasuke-kun, the first time he held her at only an hour old, and he broke down sobbing.

She makes the trek to Sasuke-kun's grave every day for 138 days, each step an arduous agony, before stooping down to lay a fresh daffodil atop the soil where her husband's bones rest. She has also planted white lilies around his headstone, the same as those that surround Itachi's and the Uchiha Memorial Stone. Her children help her keep them watered as needed through a short spring drought; she is too old to carry a watering can now without spilling.

She misses him. It hurts worse than Sasori's poison or Madara stabbing her or giving birth or a giant shuriken nearly cleaving her in two.

There is joy to be found in the desolation, too, in her last few months of life. Their progenies throw her a birthday party like none other, and she eats her fill of cake while watching little hands eat some, too. Little Satoko dances, or moreso balters, with Sarada in time to a dramatic song he finds by pressing buttons on the radio; it is not a very appropriate tune for a dance with a toddler, all clumsy crescendo and orchestra, but amusing all the same. Sasuke-kun would have smiled, if he were there.

The white lilies bloom before her eyes one last time, resplendent and perfect. She gets to hear about Haruki making Chunin on the first try, every bit the pride of the Uchiha, reborn anew with Sharingan blazing. She even gets to see Akiko make Jonin in person, ambitious and ingenious with Sharingan and diamond seal on her forehead setting her apart from her adversaries in the arena.

But finally, at long last, it is her culminating day. 138 days doesn't seem like a long time to be without him, compared to the larger number of days he was absent in their youth, but she finds it is worse, following their life together.

She tells them all she loves them and falls asleep for the last time, watches their confluence of family say goodbye from above. Sarada and the twins cry the hardest, clinging to her body as her heart finally pumps for the last time. Satoko is too young to understand, but he pats at her, too, in a sea of dark-haired descendants that she knows will continue to bring honor back to a clan revived at the brink of death. She takes in each and every one of their beautiful faces one last time, faces so similar to Sasuke-kun's; not a single one of them has her nose.

It is a legacy of love they have created, exactly the dream they started willing into color the day they discovered they had made Sarada together.

Then, she is on a dock that has slightly singed edges, looking over a small, familiar pond.

It is a spring evening, the sun just falling beneath the horizon and cherry blossoms abloom, and she thinks that is strange, because it is June and Hanami has already passed them by. Satoko had been so cute in his new outfit; she had made it herself, not much else to do in their empty house filled with aching memories. The tiny uchiwa on the back of his collar was sewn with the utmost care, the kind that came from decades of practice.

Crickets chirp, cicadas buzz, and there are a few fireflies leaking out of the greenery, soft light reflectant in the stillness of the water. It is serene. She had sat on this dock many times with her husband, when he was alive, on his right side so she could hold his hand. He told her she was beautiful during Hanami here, every year. She shifts to begin the process of sitting down, planning on leaving the space he'd taken up in life empty for him, in case his ghost is around. She has felt it, sometimes, tugging at her own spirit; she leaves his side of the bed empty every night, trying to will him back to her.

As Sakura shifts, she looks down, and she is startled to see pink hair instead of white, and no wrinkles. She crouches to analyze herself more closely in water still as glass, and there are no creaking old bones. She is young again, somehow.

She is overjoyed; she will be able to water the white lilies herself again. She can even dance with little Satoko now.

Light footsteps sound behind her, and just as she stands and turns, she is being swept into an unfamiliar yet comforting pair of arms. A woman with long inky hair, black as night, is hugging her tight.

"Thank you for loving my son," she breathes immediately, and Sakura starts crying, because she somehow knew who it was before she even said anything, without even seeing her face. When her eyes focus blearily through tears over Mikoto Uchiha's shoulder, Sasuke-kun's brother is walking up not far behind her.

Itachi Uchiha is smiling at her like she's done something wonderful, like he has been waiting for years to meet her. He is younger, healthier here, flecks of silver dancing in eyes just like her husband's, just like their childrens'. There's an impossible ache in her chest.

He waits patiently for his mother to pull back. When she finally does, Sakura looks into her eyes, and Mikoto is smiling at her so big, like she hung the moon in the sky, beginning to peek out from behind clouds above them.

"I have waited so long to meet you," she says, eyes shining, and her eyes are like Sasuke-kun's, too. "You are so beautiful."

Then Itachi is embracing her, and Sakura cries harder, because his arms feel almost like Sasuke-kun's arm had felt, slipping around her for sixty-one years of marriage, the same height and strong.

"I have waited, too. It's an honor. Thank you, for everything," Itachi says as she sobs.

"They are so beautiful, too, Sakura," Mikoto adds softly, hand at her shoulder, and she knows she means their children, Mikoto's grandchildren that she hasn't gotten to hold yet, Sarada and the twins and their children and all the others. Little Satoko had made twenty-seven blood relatives; including spouses who married into the clan, the number was thirty-eight, and there were two more babies on the way, yet.

Itachi lets her go, smile tender when he pulls away. He directs his gaze momentarily to the path leading up the hill, as if he's looking for someone.

She follows his gaze; Fugaku Uchiha is coming over the top, all stoicism even as a spirit. He stops momentarily and gives her a nod of recognition, not breaking eye contact for a long time.

Then, he glances back over his shoulder, tilts his head as if telling someone to follow him down the hill, and Sakura is running, though she hasn't been able to for years.

Sasuke-kun is all of twenty again, young and strong, too handsome for his own good and every bit the sweet but stoic man she fell in love and grew old with. He's smiling at her, just for her, and she's in his arms - he has both, here - in the blink of mismatched, teary eyes.

His arms feel like home, two spirits together in permanence at long last. It is the same feeling as the little piece of heaven they touched together whenever they made love, souls intertwining, but this time for good. She has missed him. Oh, she has missed him.

"...I told you I'd see you next time," he murmurs against her hair.

[shreddedparchment]

A World of Our Own Pt.10

Epilogue

10/11/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 1,615

Warnings: allusions to miscarriage, LOTS of fluff, past death

A/N: I know I haven’t replied to many comments or asks from the previous chapter but I wanted to get this out as quickly as possible so that the story would be truly closed. The ending was incomplete and now it is done and I hope you enjoy this ending as much as I do. It really made me so happy to write and this is the ending these babies deserve after being blown up and deserted on an island. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Life doesn’t happen like we think it will.

We can plan and schedule and arrange as much as you’d like, but things will just not go your way.

As the ship docks, you sigh with frustration, rising to your feet to look through the porthole.

“We’re late.” You grumble, glaring at the darkening sky. “We were supposed to be here by noon. That way we had plenty of time to look around and make sure it’s safe.”

“Kitten, come here.” Bucky holds his arm out towards you without looking up from the small tablet in his hands.

There’s a weather radar on one half of the screen and on the bottom, an email. Probably from Fury.

You make a reluctant beeline for him, sitting on his lap when he urges you to, wrapping his arm around your waist.

With a lick to his lips, he puts the tablet down on the small bedside table—bolted down to keep from moving in rough seas—and brings his other arm around you.

“What did you just tell me last week?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug, pretending you can’t remember.

“Yes, you do, Y/N. What did you so passionately talk my ear off and insist that I remind you, especially on this very trip, if you begin to slide back on your newest and most important—your words by the way—resolution in life? What was it?” Bucky pokes your leg as he speaks, then wraps his arm back around your waist and gives you a squeeze.

“Not to stress about the things in life that I cannot control.” You sigh. “Out of all the damn things I’ve told you, why is this one the one you remember?”

“Because you wouldn’t stop talking about it for an entire day!” Bucky chuckles. “We’re a little late? So what? We have plenty of time. This is supposed to be our honeymoon. Let’s just let go of everything and enjoy our time here.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just…I wanted everything to be right.” You nod.

“It will be. We bought the island. They’ve been working on it for a year. I’m sure everything will be perfect.” Bucky soothes you, reaching up to rub between your shoulders. “You approved all the changes. They said it was done. What are you worried about? Specifically. Help me to understand this anxiety you’re feeling.”

You grab Bucky’s face and pull his lips to yours roughly. He mumbles against your lips, a small huff of a laugh seeping through.

When you pull away, he laughs. “Ow.”

“I just…we haven’t been back here in years, Bucky. And I want it to be safer than when we left it.”

Bucky’s eyes are full of sudden understanding.

“I see.” He gets to his feet as the large yacht finally stops, helping you stand too before taking your hand in his own. “Come on. Let’s go see it. You kept the hut, right?”

“I kept everything.” You tell him, following him along the narrow white hallway, pristine wooden floors varnished and gleaming. “I just had them upgrade most of it.”

“I like your dress.” Bucky states, giving your outfit a quick once over even though you’d been wearing it for the better part of the day.

You smile bright however, pleased by the compliment before you stop, grab hold of the intentionally designed a-symmetrical dress and swing it back and forth. It’s navy with pink pansy florals and light green leaves, the top more modest than the one you owned before. Capped sleeves and a lovely heart neckline, a very thin strip of pink lace along the hem.

Bucky stops with you, smiling at the shift in your attitude with one simple acknowledgment of your reference to your first time on the island.

“How many times did we end up cutting off pieces of that first dress?” Bucky wonders, letting you think.

“Too many.” You acknowledge. “It was more of a shirt by the time we left.”

Bucky lifts your left hand up to his lips, kissing your simple solitaire engagement ring, your matching wedding band also on your finger.

“Well, we won’t have to cut any of this one off. I promise.” He assures you then pulls you along once again.

Bucky makes you wait. He makes you stay behind as the two of you reach the deck of the yacht—the Paradise Lost as you’d named it—while he steps onto the long and reinforced pier.

It stretches out on the same beach where the cabin of the plane had once stood, now relocated, and honored on another part of the island for the lives that had been lost.

The graves Bucky had dug had been remade, a small graveyard built to give the pilot and stewardess a proper resting place.

You can see it from the deck, a little farther inland where you’d had a cobbled path built to lead to it from the pier.

Making a mental note to tell Bucky you want the Stewardess’s family invited to give them a chance to say goodbye. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to get them here with the secrets surrounding the plane, but you can try.

Bucky comes back fairly quickly and waves you over. Eagerly you make your way to him.

“What happened?” You ask him but he gestures towards an older gentleman on the beach.

“Mr. Lara wants to talk to you about the chef’s supplies. Looks like there was a delay in the shipment.” Bucky tells you, then hurries past you. “Don’t worry, I’ll get our bags.”

“Bucky, we’re paying people to do that!” You call after him, but he waves you off and you turn to meet with Mr. Lara.

The island, while still massively private, has been built up like a small resort. There’s your hut, which the basic structure is the same but to it have been added a full chef’s kitchen. Several bedrooms. A living room. A master bedroom and access to the beach and a private pier.

There’s a beach barbecue patio and lounge chairs. Hidden behind the hut right in the spot Bucky built it, is the bathing pool, now with built in filtration, temperature control and more sustainable materials so that it will endure.

Your little island, the world you and Bucky created was given a full makeover. You’d always known you wanted to come back. You’d hated being stranded but the memories and the connections you’d formed here were special.

After assuring Mr. Lara that you have enough provisions on the yacht to last you until the grocery delivery arrives, you make your way back to see what’s keeping Bucky.

You’re nearly there when Bucky’s sweet chuckle stops you in your tracks. He takes the ramp onto the pier and with his hand still extended towards the yacht, you wait, your heart swelling.

“Careful.” You tell him, but he doesn’t need you to remind him.

Into view toddles a black-haired angel, eyes just as blue as his father’s. Just as you had when you’d thought about the possibility of a child with Bucky how beautiful it would be to see a mini version of him with your temper running around, it’s just so.

You wait with patience, his legs sure though slightly unsteady. His eyes scanning the area with inquisitive gusto.

He’s only just two years old but he’s already smart as a whip and when he spots you, he gasps with excitement and as soon as his little feet hit the pier, he releases Bucky’s hand and races for you.

You stoop down to scoop him and chuckle as he laughs, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“There’s my big boy.” You coo, pressing a kiss to his cheek before he can pull away. “Where are we, Robin? Do you know where this place is?”

As he straightens up, he points towards the shore. “Beesh!”

“That’s right. We’re at a beach. This is an island, Robin.” You explain, moving down the pier with him in your arms.

“I-wan.” He repeats, then giggles before squirming from your grip. “Woah, easy.”

Bucky moves forward and stops the little one before he can run.

“Hey bud, we can run down the pier and play in the sand, but you have to make me a deal, okay?”

Robin lifts his little hand up, bent at the elbow with his palm turned up as he shrugs. “Dew?”

“Yeah. We can run down to the beach if you hold my hand. Okay? The water is very deep, and mommy will cry if you fall in. You don’t want mommy to cry, do you?”

“No!” Robin exclaims, his little face suddenly angry, eyebrows drawn down on the inner corners in an exaggerated expression. “Mommy no cwy!”

“Then you’ll hold my hand?” Bucky asks, holding it out for him.

Without another word Robin takes hold of Bucky’s hand ad doesn’t wait before he’s pulling him along as fast as his little legs can.

“Be careful!” You call after them but they’re not listening anymore.

Life doesn’t function according to your plan.

While you were planning your wedding, Robin came as a sweet surprise. You postponed the wedding and instead celebrated the birth of your rainbow. Much sooner than expected but welcomed all the same.

Then you and Bucky took time to nurture your son and the wedding was finally held only two weeks ago. Honeymoon delayed to make certain the island was safe for you baby.

And although you’re saving the news for the right time, you hope that you can convince Bucky to stay here for a while, at least until your second little one comes. Just another seven months.

[fafulous]

Take Me Home (4/5)

Andy Barber x Reader (Post!Defending Jacob)

Summary: After the unfortunate events of the trial and after, a depressed Andy Barber decides to call it quits and start a mundane life far away from Newton. He decides it is best to have a fresh start away from prying eyes and alone, but he never thought his caring neighbor (and her son) would change all of that.

Chapter Warnings: MAJOR D.J. SPOILERS (BOOK Ending), Reminiscing the Loss of a loved one.

Andy soon came to realise that walking out on you was never ever really a solution. In reality he knew with his current state, without you he was doomed.

He needed you because he has no one. He needed you because it was his chance at something new; something no one would understand.

He needs you because in between all those shenanigans in these few months, he was falling hard for you.

But he did what he had to that day because he just wanted some space. In his head it seemed to be fine, but alas it hurt like a bitch.

On the other hand, Nikolai had no idea what was going on. It only took him minutes to fall in love with his new room. The lights, the colour of the room made him so jubilant, later on only to see you a bit unhappy. You were able to deflect from your son’s questions, but how on earth were you going to tell him that Andy won’t be meeting him anymore.

It hurt. So hard. All you needed was one conversation with him to settle things away but he wanted his space and so you half heartedly respected it.

Nikolai on the other hand was hitting a real low seeing you unhappy the whole day sporting stuffy red eyes. Like any other kid, Nikolai jumped to the conclusion that their mother is crying because she got a boo-boo or lost her favourite toy.

But that little brain of his pieced it slowly once he realised Andy never visited them for any of the dinner nights.

“Mommy pwese don’t cwy” his nimble fingers wiping your fat tears rolling down your cheek.

“I know peaches. I’m trying so hard to get Andy back okay. I’m sorry for crying around you like this baby.”

“B-but Wandi pwomised he neva gonna hurt you mommi…”

“Oh Niko,” you wiped the cookie crumbs around his tiny lips, “Your little brain won’t get it. It’s okay.”

“No. Not owkay. Wandi hurt you. Wandi bad. I don’t wike Wandi cahr now.”

You couldn’t help but surpass a giggle. “Niko. Andy is never bad. Never. He is just feeling sad and lonely. We just need to tell him we have him and love him okay?”

Love? Too soon. Maybe it’s more than like but it was too late to change it for your son and for yourself. You always saw how Niko’s eyes sparkled whenever Andy was around; he was soon accepting him to be a member of the household.

“Owkay,” he dug his head to your neck, “I wike Wandi and his cahr.”

–

The following week were hard for you and him. From sharing couches to kisses, now the only thing you both shared were small talks.

Yes. Small Talk. Or texts rather.

Andy told you he finally found a therapist to speak to and slowly expressed his wish to still visit Nikolai till you both figured out what was happening between you two.

Why did this have to get so complicated?

You on the other hand replied he was free to do so because to be real, the little kid missed him too. So, the next day he asked you for permission if he could take Nikolai on a car drive.

You had no idea what would go on in his head at times. From seeing Andy’s perspective, he was denied of the choice of telling you his story. It was his fucked-up childhood, his story that he wanted to tell you. Not a pity tatter-tale gossip story that was to be heard from your characterless, ex-husband.

Andy later in the evening sent a message that he was ready, and you saw the man your heart so longed for.

His eyes were back to being sunken, those blue irises not having the guts to meet yours. His hair was ruffled like he just woke up from a nap. Looking at him made you realise how much your hands were twitching to just hug him. You were reminded of the first night you spent at his house; that blue sweater he gave you while you two made out on his couch for the first time was now worn by him.

You walked towards him as you held Nikolai’s convertible baby seat to be fixed in his car and he was kind enough to open the door for you.

Andy on the other hand knew he had to- no, wanted to strike a conversation with you; but didn’t know what to say.

Hey long time huh?

Y/N. Hey, how are you?

Hey listen…

Nope nothing came out of his mouth while you fixed the seat.

He took in your appearance too; that ray of sunshine that beamed from your smile was non-existent; replaced with a forlorn look that he hated to see on you. The past few days were definitely much harsher on you than it was for him. Andy knew he couldn’t get any more foolish. He had to get back to what you two had before.

He needed it.

“Have we gone back to square one? Because of what? My ex-husband?”

Andy came out of his tiny reverie and focussed back on you. He didn’t pay attention, but he did realise you said something bitter that meant to sting him.

“Honey listen-”

“Oh, don’t you honey me Andy. How could you? How could you be so- so-“ you tried so hard to not break into a stream of tears.

How could you be so hateful to yourself Andy? Did you not trust me?

“How could you just desert me like that? D-did you think I was going to throw away my second chance at life for something you father did? Did you want to throw away your second chance at life because of your father who has no role in our lives right now?”

He sighed dejectedly, disappointed with himself. Hearing your voice break wrecked him, “I know Y/N. I was an asshole that day, leaving you without an explanation.” He found himself taking steps towards you and cupping your cheek, tilting his forehead onto yours, “I am so sorry hon- Y/N. I am sorry.”

You bit your lip and looked up at him, his eyes still closed; now content that he and you could just touch each other after a very long time.

Any other situation, you wouldn’t let a man walkover you so easily after fucking up. But this was Andy. The man who made you believe in second chances. You gave him a first chance already, and now it was again your turn to give him one more.

“You weren’t an asshole Andy,” you held on to his hands, “Its just, I don’t know…”

“I know you know exactly what you want to say Y/N. Just say it.”

You could hear Nikolai running around his circles with his unicorn plush doll behind you, “I was angry when you left, but at the same time I tried to understand your point of view, your emotions and your feelings about this whole situation. But I think or- or I know that I didn’t deserve to be ghosted like that Andy, because I liked you for you, not what your father did, especially when we had something so good going on.”

He removed his hand from your cheeks and looked down like a disappointed child. He knew he was at fault and so he didn’t say anything; head hung in shame looking at the little, carefree boy that he loved so dearly.

“It’s only had if you want it to be,”

“What do you mean?”

You saw a glint of that eagerness that Andy always had with you before, “I told that we had something good going on? It’s only had if you want it to be…“

Andy took some time to find his words. Again. It was the second time he fucked up so bad and here you were, taking him back even after he exploded like a mine. Was this woman for real?

“Of course, I want this honey. I always want us. You’re always so good to me.”

He reached out to graze your cheeks, but he was blocked by your squealing son.

“Cahr Wandi! Can we gooo?”

You were surprised that you weren’t interrupted by your son sooner, but nevertheless your son’s new founded patience was found to be a blessing in disguise.

The cutest sight unfurled before you as Andy made grabby hands at your son, only for the latter to be scooped into Andy’s arms like a cocoon.

“Come on Y/N, join us wont you? For a drive?”

You shook your head, “I think I’ll pass.”

“Y/N. I want to really make it up to you. Like real time. Please come with us?”

“I know Andy, but who will make dinner if I come along with you boys?”

Andy slowly grinned at your implications. He never ceased to be impressed by your gracious generosity and the small acts of kindness.

“I’m not mad, not as much as I was before I promise,” you dared to but tiptoed to place a kiss on his cheek, “We can talk over dinner today.” You saw how his cheek sported a cherry red tint, slowly creeping up till his ear. A teenager in a old man’s body.

“Peaches,” you turned to your son right now jumped into Andy’s arms, nuzzling his face in that soft sweater, “Be good and behave okay peaches? Don’t trouble Wandi- I mean Andy for anything on the way okay?”

Everything drowned inside a chorus of laughter when Andy realised how you had called his name. Niko had no idea what the humour was for but joined the chorus when he found his two most favourite people in the world giggling.

Were you forgoing all that pent-up sadness that this man gave you this week? Yes. Yes you were.

And you would soon realise that it was the best decision you made.

Hours passed by and the boys came back home. Nikolai was gleefully pulling onto Andy’s beard and curiously asking him when he was going to get a ‘bweard’ like him and heard both the boys animatedly inhaling; the smell of aromatic food that stirring their tummies.

“MOMMY IS MAKING PAWSTAHH!”

Andy was so confused. You always made the best Italian food for your child.

“Let’s just say after that episode we had with Chad, I was cooking boring greens and ordering takeout for the little one and me. I lost the will to cook. Thought I’ll revive the poor kid’s taste buds.”

It was always these small gestures that pulled you towards Andy; like this one. He tugged you by your shoulders and placed a soft kiss on your forehead and then cupped your cheeks so lovingly.

“Sorry Momma bear.”

“Shhh. It’s okay grumpy cat,” you winked.

Dinner on the other hand did go relatively smooth than you expected it to. Andy explained himself, his feelings and what he felt that day when he left you and tried his level best to process your emotional state that day.

The baked pasta was licked clean by your two boys and you while Andy also spoke about his past few days with his therapist, who seemed to help him more than he possibly could ever think of. Over a glass of wine, Andy held your hand promising you that he wouldn’t do any more foolish stunts that ended up hurting all of us in the process.

But as you and Andy were doing and drying the dishes, you felt that he was holding back something.

“You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing.”

“That thing you used to do when I used to pick movies that you don’t like.”

His grin could make your whole body mushy and soft like a teenager having their first crush “So? Is that my fault honey?” he feigned hurt, glad that he could now call you back with his favourite sweet name.

“Nah,” you playfully tapped his shoulder. “You give me that look so prominently so that I understand that you want something from me, or you want me to do something for you.”

Andy looked so lost and you knew something was biting his thoughts because he enjoyed doing domestic chores with you; his favourite being you washing the dishes and him drying them out and keeping them inside the cupboards. He didn’t reply until the last wine glass was kept inside the cabinet

“It’s just-” hesitated Andy. You waited patiently for him to find his words.

“It’s about Jacob.”

“Oh.”

For a startling few seconds, you held your breath; thinking about Andy’s son was something wrecked your thoughts and heart every single time.

“My therapist says that I haven’t, you know, fully processed Jacob’s death. Like I’m holding on to something. But parents don’t, right? They can’t move on from their child’s death right? It’s practically impossible.”

You weren’t sure what to say but you nodded, gripping on to his arm and gesturing to sit with you to the couch where little Niko dozed off with two of his stuffed dolls clenched in his hand.

“But she did say one statement that made sense to me, I don’t know. It made sense about how we can’t forget our children who are no longer with us but we can learn to accept the fact that they are no longer with us.”

Oh bub, how much have you been through? “Do you agree with this Andy?” You asked him to keep yourself strong during this conversation for him, and you did.

“Of course, yeah. Maybe. But the thing is I think I haven’t accepted it honey.”

You took both of his hands and squeezed reassuringly, “I have no idea what you are going through bub but I’m glad you are talking to me about this. Take your time; its going to be hard, but I’m right here okay? Whatever you need, I’ll do within my best ability.”

He hummed, but still hesitant.

“Andy its okay, tell me. Talk to me bub.”

He squeezed your palms even more tightly, turning towards you completely. “C-can I ask you a favour? I mean you can say no, I will understand.”

I’m ready to give you all the happiness in the world to you bubba. “Anything for you Andy? Tell me now.”

He didn’t meet your gaze, but instead shifting his focus to trace your knuckles, “My therapist told me to visit Jacob’s grave whenever I was ready, to mourn him, to accept he is no longer with me and you know…talk to him I guess. To process my emotions. And um…Oh god I am a bubbling mess Y/N.”

“Hey its okay baby take your time. There is no pressure.”

“I can’t do this alone honey…I need you there with me. Can you come with me to the graveyard?”

How could you ever say no to this solemn situation?

“Of course, honey. Absolutely anything you need.”

And what seemed like after ages, Andy Barber enveloped you into his signature bear hug. Both of you left a huge sigh of breath, relief washing over that both of you were slowly getting back on track.

Until you heard a rugged whimpers from the little boy beside Andy.

You didn’t want to tell Andy about this, but Nikolai’s nightmares were back and the little boy was finding it difficult to sleep at night. The new nursery still did not work for him, so he ended up sleeping on top of your chest; your heartbeat probably soothing him to sleep.

But Andy the experienced father he was, quickly scooped him into his arms and started cradling him, rocking him side by side with his arms protecting him, humming a familiar soft tune that seemed to calm you in the process too. You saw how Niko’s head was cushioned between Andy’s pecs and muscles, slowly relaxing and nuzzling into his touch.

Niko’s scrunched up face was now back to a peaceful baby lost in slumber. 

Andy met your gaze and blinked at you with a smile and it conveyed so much than you think.

We got this baby. We all gonna get through this.

–

The decision to take Nikolai along with you and Andy was refuted by the latter saying that a young boy like him shouldn’t be visiting such desolate place.

“Children are the embodiment of new birth, new life. And graveyards, quite opposite.”

But you knew secretly he also didn’t was your son to see him in such a vulnerable position. You were grateful for the fact that the rough patch between you and Andy was solved; for the little boy saw Andy as his new father figure with Chad gone away with a new girlfriend.

Talking about Chad, he did not make efforts to meet his son; and you didn’t bother contacting him. Better off without him you wondered.

The drive to Jacob’s grave was a couple of hours away and ride in itself was a quiet one. Andy and you were informally dressed in dull colours, hearts dull too. You knew it was a big step for Andy and you were going to support him till he thinks he is over it. Car windows were rolled down, the fresh air making efforts to refresh you both.

You could also see Andy’s urge to interlink his hands with you while your drove and you did; Gripping onto his palm or occasionally rubbing his shoulders or thighs throughout the ride would help him calm down and relax his creased forehead.

When you both got down from the car it was so hard to read Andy’s thoughts. He came over to you and interlinked your palms and made way to the place where his son was buried.

Jacob’s grave was flowerless when arrived. Andy soon fixed that after leaving a wreath of Jacob’s most favourite flowers, daisies.

A graveyard, a place of death, sprouting trees filled with life here and there. The irony of life.

You didn’t know the boy but the aura of the graveyard, the impersonal feeling towards the dead even though you have no idea who they were beneath the stones made you heart sink. It then came to your senses.

The boy was just fourteen.

Both of you sat down near his grave, not caring about the grass and mud staining your clothes. He finally took away his palms from yours.

Andy spoke some kind words, rekindling memories of his son’s favourite pastime, his favourite stories and one of his embarrassing yet kind-hearted moments. He sought an apology on behalf of his mother, trying to make Jacob understand that his mother loved him so much, that it unfortunately ended tragically.

Another thought popped into your head, how couples these days separate over trivial matters, over materialistic matters, and infidelity. But Andy? He separated because his wife- No no. You didn’t want to complete that thought.

But after a while passed and you decided give Andy some needed space. He was probably going to be anxious, but it was for the best.

“Andy, you feel a bit better?” you whispered.

“You can say probably.”

Here we go. “I’m going to leave you two alone okay?”

“What? Honey. If I can’t-”

“You can Andy. He is your son, remember that. So, don’t hold back. I know you wanted me to be here with you and I did and I’m so proud of you, bubba,” you stroked his hair. “But unintentionally you may be holding back on expressing because I’m here and that’s normal.”

Why are you so good to me?

“I’m just going to be near the parking lot okay? I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him with a peck on his cheek and made your way back.

You shed your tears while you sat inside his car, thinking about the little boy. It was difficult thinking of losing a loved one that you gave birth to. He was too young. Too fucking young.

Oh, this cruel world, how you hated it so immensely right now.

Half hour passed by and you saw Andy making his way towards the car. It was so strange to think of this, but he didn’t look red eye rimmed like you; he looked the same with much more solemnity. He didn’t cry and that slightly bothered you. Maybe you had to accept the fact that different people process emotions differently.

He got into the car and took in your red eyes. He knew you had cried. Seeing you like that made his pull your lips onto his for just a chaste kiss, the first time you two felt each other’s lips after an eon. All he breathed into your lips was that we are going to be okay and drove back home with no word exchanged. For the upcoming hours, the fresh air offered you comfort, drying out those spilt tears along with the lingering touch of his palms; interlinked like their souls.

After coming back, you took advantage of Andy’s silence and maneuvered him to your home. He seated himself on the couch pulling out his phone and wallet from his pants and placed it on the coffee table.; trying to steal a quick nap while you picked up Nikolai from your neighbour Mr. Arthur.

Andy sleeping gave you an immense sense of peace, but for the little boy in your hands; not so much.

“WANDI!!!!”

He groggily woke up thanks to Nikolai running towards him, lying on his chest like he does with you. “Hey buddy.”

“You home yaay!” Probably meant that he was excited to see the man in house like the usual dinner nights. Nikolai calling him and telling he was home pricked him and at the same time felt so right. As cliché as it sounds, he always has heard this quote where Home is never a place with four walls to cover your head; home is where the heart is.

His heart was with you and Nikolai.

After eating Andy, and you began to do your dish washing routine, this time he washing the dishes. He was slow, but that was alright, you had all the time in the world.

Niko on the other hand was singing all the rhymes he learnt from daycare in different pitches, earning a chuckle from the both of you here and there. He was also carelessly playing with Andy’s phone and wallet, both of you seeing that the little boy had dropped all the contents of the wallet on to the floor. Once they were done Andy picked up the falling things patiently without chiding the little one like any other adult would. 

He picked up his Dollar bills, receipts and then a forgotten thin strip of a photo roll.

It was him and Jacob.

The roll had four pictures of him and his son posing for the silliest pictures, the first three with their tongues sticking out in the goofiest angle possible. The last one however was so pure; Andy giving a  forehead kiss to Jacob because he was so proud of his son, remembering he had bagged the highest grade in English that term in school.

Minutes pass and he didn’t notice his waterworks brimming. A blink and they would fall down.

And they did, when he heard Nikolai nudging him by the thigh. “Why you cwyin Wandi?”

That startled you enough to stop whatever it was you were doing and went to see what was happening.

Oh bubba.

You sat near Andy, touching his thigh for comfort while your son got closer to the photo that was in Andy’s slightly quaking hands.

“Who that Wandi?”

“Th-thats my son buddy. His name was Jacob.”

“Can he play with me Wandi?”

Everything just pricked. The boy’s innocent questions and Andy’s realisation of his emotions. This was too much to bear.

“No buddy he can’t-“

A hand around his shoulder, it was you. When he looked up his eyes were blurry from the tears that were falling. He was so upset he didn’t even realise you were next to him. It was you. Only you.

It was then you realised it finally that it hit Andrew that his son was dead.

“You don’t have to answer that Andy. He’s just a kid. It’s okay.”

The little one feeling that he had said something wrong hugged his arms with his little arms. “I’m sowwy Wandi. Don’t cwy.”

“I’m not buddy, I-I’m not.” He reassured the kid, and falsely assuring himself too.

“Wandi, I’m feelin sleepy…” “Yeah, let’s get you to bed buddy,” he cooed with his quivering voice.

“Andy I’ll take him-” But he refused to and took the child. You took a few minutes to pull yourself together after witnessing Andy so vulnerable. Even in these moments, he took care of your son. When you reached the nursery, Andy was whispering a lullaby to a dozed off Niko for a good ten minutes. He even spoke to the little boy, telling him that the measly Audi car painting he did in the room was going to protect him and his nightmares; and the boy believed because Andy said so.

Few minutes later and Andy didn’t refuse to hold back.

“I held Jacob like Nikolai, put him to sleep like Nikolai. My sweet precious baby,  my innocent child Jacob. He didn’t do anything and he is away from me Y/N. Far far away-”

Andy let out a loud whimpering cry, the sound swallowed when he buried his head into your neck and your tears began streaming, him sobbing uncontrollably the next minute.

Andy and your tears began streaming; you pulled yourself together soon but Andy? He was weeping uncontrollably. You only could take him in your arms and offer him comfort. No words could heal his wounds instantly. He buried his face into your neck, his safe place, which made you remember the initial days with Andy when he lent a shoulder when you cried. Now it was your turn.

You whispered in ears how it was best not to do this near Niko and maneuvered Andy to your room. He held onto your arms as you took him to your room. You urged Andy to talk to you if the visit to the grave was still bothering him. He sought recluse in your safe place again, lying down on the bed, head tucked in your neck.

“Andy you can tell me anything. I promise it won’t affect whatever is between us.”

It was too twisted, he was distraught. He ranted about Laurie and how she unravelled into killing her own son. He slipped some details of how Laurie always kept bringing up past incidents of his son to prove that Jacob was the possible killer. He kept blaming himself that he was too weary with Laurie and that he should’ve seen her actions. Your whole body pricked; he was crying as he said all this.

You couldn’t imagine Nikolai and yourself in that situation. It brought tears to you eyes but wiped them off before he could see it. You let him talk as much as he wanted to, calming and soothing Andy in the process, running your fingers through his hair gently. You comforted him as much as you could and kept reminding yourself that this was the first time he came to his senses and realised he was crying out for his dead son; and so you were patient.

“My own wife murdered him Y/N. My Jacob. If I had been more attentive”

“Shhhhh Andy,” you cooed into his ear “Your circumstances were horrible. Don’t blame yourself bubba, none of this was your fault okay? Jacob’s death was out of your hands, it was an unfortunate accident Andy.“

Andy could stay all day in your embrace, his head on your gentle shoulders while your soft hair caresses made him doze off to sleep.

But his head felt like it was going to explode and he couldn’t let you see that.

“I’m going back home honey. I think I need to be alone tonight. I- I am not abandoning you okay, I promise, I’ll be okay tomorrow.”

“Andy are you sure? Stay with me, I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I- I think I need to be alone for sometime you know? Please don’t be upset.”

“I’m never ever upset okay? As long as you are sure bubba; whatever you think is best for you okay? This house is always open to you.”

Kisses on the cheek were exchanged before he left your home. But you stayed awake, in the hopes he’ll be back because deep down you knew, he needed you.

You would give him space, and why not?

He was your home.

–

Andy soon realised he couldn’t. Staying alone was the worst decision he made.

Yes he did get the desired space he absolutely needed for like an hour and he did try to cease his crying, but his heart, oh his heart was pounding like nobody’s business. Anxious. Alone. Not cared for.

The walls of his room closed around him, his breathing becoming rugged, the laughter of his dead son echoing in his head. But he remembered he was cared for. By you. He had only you now.

He wanted, needed your soothing embraces, your kind words, your optimism, your affection. Everything.

He just wanted you now.

He had to forget.  It was a bit past midnight, but it was you. His reliable rock; soon to become the love of his life. He had to forget what he was going though and in a moment of desperation, he texted you. His thought was confirmed, you would always be there for him.

—

Last and Final Part 5 on its way :)

[jovialyouthmusic]

Go Shorty!

(It's my birthday!)

In a kind of weird reverse universe, this is my gift to anyone who enjoys my Bastien Lykel fics, queued to be posted on my birthday. I've noted Fabricio's recent image change and it inspired the following - what would Bastien's family think if he shaved off his iconic goatee? Enjoy, its all fluff xx

Word Count 2035

Double Trouble

The last lecture of the week completed, Sophia was in her university office just putting her papers together when the faculty secretary put her head round the door.

‘Sophia, your home help has been in touch, she said it’s urgent’

‘Thanks Lizzy, I’ll be leaving soon anyway. It’s been a long week, I’m glad I’ve nothing on this afternoon.’ Sophia turned her mobile phone back on to see that Morag had left her a voice mail. She held the phone at arm’s length as she played back the sound of a harassed young woman and a squealing toddler in full meltdown.

‘Mrs Lykel, I’m sorry tae bother ye, but yer wee lassie’s upset, and her father cannae soothe her. Please call back when ye can. Or just come hame.’ Sophia frowned. It wasn’t like Bastien to fail to settle Beatrice. Little princess that she was, she was Daddy’s girl while Sophia was out at work through the week and welded to Sophia’s side at the weekend. She dialled the landline of their top floor regency apartment in the centre of Edinburgh that the University had allocated them. It was Bastien who answered, and all was quiet beyond his voice.

‘Sophia!’ he sounded flustered ‘Morag’s just got her to settle, did you get the message?’

‘It’s an odd time of day for a nap, is she running a temperature?’

‘Errm no, she’s hot, but she’s not ill. She’s just been crying...’

‘How do you know she’s not ill if she’s hot?’ Sophia demanded, making her way along the corridor to the car park to their SUV. Her mind span with possibilities.

‘I uh – you’ll understand when you get here, I can’t explain right now.’ Sophia decided not to stop off at the shops on the way, hoping Morag could go and get what was needed before she clocked off for the weekend. She wished she’d had the foresight to order a supermarket delivery, but she preferred to shop herself. With or without the children, she loved browsing the aisles of Waitrose when it wasn’t busy. Bastien was a surprisingly poor shopper and stuck religiously to the list, whereas she’d discover little treats and bargains that wouldn’t stretch her salary. Living in the city was expensive, although not nearly as much as if they’d moved to London, and having Morag to help was a slight strain on resources. Setting up Bastien’s security consultancy was taking longer than expected thanks to the complexity of looking after twins, and the retainer from King Liam in Cordonia was only just enough for small luxuries.

As soon as she opened the door to the apartment, Morag was there pulling her coat on and shouldering her bag.

‘Morag, I was hoping you’d be able to get some supp…’ Sophia started, but she was already pushing past her to the landing outside.

‘Ah’ll be back the Monday.’ she said shortly, and Sophia was left peering over the banister to the stairwell after her rapidly retreating figure, wondering what had happened. She turned back inside to meet Bastien holding Theo.

‘Mama.’ he crowed in jubilant greeting. Bastien stepped out of the shadowed hall, and all became clear.

‘Bas, you shaved!’ she gasped. She’d never seen her husband without facial hair in the few years she’d known him. He still had a neat ‘tache, but his trimmed goatee was gone, his chin and jawline bare. He looked sheepish, and she knew she shouldn’t have teased him about the streak of white in his beard. He handed over Theo, who pointed at Bastien.

‘Dada face.’ he proclaimed.

‘Yes, I thought perhaps…’ his voice trailed off ‘Well, that is, I mean...’

‘Beatrice didn’t like it, did she? Honestly Bas, you should have thought – why didn’t you say something?’ He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

‘I thought perhaps a younger image might drum up some more business.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, age means experience, people are more likely to trust a distinguished looking gent.’ she scoffed. He sighed in exasperation.

‘Well the damage is done. Beatrice took one look at me and bawled her eyes out. Morag tried to calm her down, but every time she saw me again she’d set off crying.’

‘Well no wonder, you look completely different. How about Theo?’ she asked.

‘You know him – a bomb would go off and he wouldn’t flinch.’ In response Theo wriggled to get down, bored at the adult conversation. He toddled off to the toybox in the lounge to rummage for his current favourite, a shape sorting puzzle.

‘Well, I’d better go and take a look at her.’ Sophia sighed. ‘If she’s been crying all morning she’ll probably not wake up for a while.’ She feared that the disruption to her sleep schedule meant they’d be in for a rocky night at the very least, if not a couple of days. She opened the door to their bedroom a crack but could see little, as the curtains were drawn tight. Normally they let a little light in for daytime naps so the children would know night from day. She crept in and let her eyes adjust to the gloom. Beatrice lay on her back in her day clothes, one arm flung back over her head and her other thumb in her mouth. That wasn’t a good sign – she’d not used that form of self soothing for a couple of months. Her hair was damp and face flushed, but her breathing was steady and peaceful.

Sophia carefully held her palm over her forehead, feeling the slight heat coming off it. Bastien joined her, gazing down at the toddler, but she motioned him out of the room and followed quietly.

‘Well, she’s okay for now. I’d better be here for when she wakes up, so you can go shopping for the weekend.’ Bastien’s face dropped.

‘On a Friday? The traffic’s mayhem – can’t we order in?’

‘I couldn’t stop on the way back, and there won’t be any free delivery slots until at least Monday, you know that.’ She sighed. ‘If you take Theo with you it’ll be easier for when Bea wakes up, and you can play the ‘Dad doing the chores’ role, that’ll get you to the front of the checkout queue. Give him a banana, that will keep him happy.’

‘Narners?’ Theo called from the lounge, and came toddling to find Sophia, clinging to her leg and pulling at her clothes.

‘Lunch first, Theo, then Daddy will take you shopping. Won’t that be lovely? All boys together.’

‘Sopping’ Theo cried happily, then looked over at Bastien. ‘Mummy sopping?’ he asked hopefully. He knew Sophia was more likely to treat him than his father, although he did like pointing out the things Daddy couldn’t find. Perhaps he’d treat him more without his sister there to steal the limelight.

‘No darling, Mummy has to look after Bea.’

‘Bee cwy. Dada face.’

‘Yes, silly Daddy took his beard off. He’s funny isn’t he?’

‘Dada silly!’ Theo cried triumphantly and pointed at him. Bastien scowled.

‘Yes well okay, let’s all laugh at Daddy.’ he grumbled as Sophia picked Theo up and balanced him on her hip.

‘Well it’s better than crying’ she said acidly. ‘Now, do you want to make lunch, or shall I?’

-------

Lunchtime was much simpler than normal with just Theo to feed. The couple could eat their own food while the toddler busied himself with cheese sandwiches made with wholemeal bread. He left the crusts, but Sophia had discovered it pointless cutting them off, as he left some bread around the edge just as if the crust were still there. She often saved them to feed the ducks at the park with the twins. Bastien had literally just closed the door to take Theo out to the supermarket when she heard Beatrice stirring. She went into her quickly, to find her standing at the bars to the cot, hair curling round her face and cheeks blotchy.

‘Mummy.’ Her voice was croaky and she looked miserable. ‘Dada face!’ she told her. She stretched her arms up and Sophia scooped her up as she rubbed her eyes sleepily. Perhaps she’d think it was a dream.

‘Well hello my little Bea, you’ve had a difficult morning. Are you hungry?’ She nodded sleepily.

‘Sippy sippy, Mummy.’ The little girl was obviously thirsty too.

‘Of course darling, you can have juice. Do you want sandwiches?’

‘Widges, Mummy.’ She looked across to Theo’s cot. ‘Where Feeo?’ Sophia sucked in her breath. It was very rare that the children were separated and she braced herself for trouble.

‘He’s gone out to the shops to get more narners, darling.’ The little girl clung on to her and rested her head on her chest, seemingly pleased to have Sophia to herself. She carried her through to the kitchen and filled her sippy cup with juice. Gratefully Bea grabbed at it and drank greedily, eyes rolling back in bliss.

‘All gone’ she shook it upside down, sprinkling the last dregs on the floor. Luckily the sandwiches were ready from earlier so Sophia put them on the tray of the high chair. Bea shook her head and clung on tight as she tried to put her down.

‘Okay darling, you can sit on my knee this time’ she said gently, and sat at the table, the little girl firmly nestled on her lap. She reached out to take a sandwich and squeezed it in her fist before stuffing half of it in her mouth, crumbs falling everywhere. She was hungry, and Sophia wondered if she’d had anything to eat before her father’s transformation. She waited until she’d slowed down.

‘Morag told me you were upset this morning.’ she said gently. The little girl took a shuddering breath.

‘Dada face bad.’ she said, putting her hand to her chin. Sophia stepped in before the cycle of crying could restart.

‘I know, Bea. He shaved his beard off. He looks funny now, doesn’t he? Theo was laughing at Daddy.’ Beatrice burrowed into her side again, hiding her face. ‘It’s okay darling, he just looks different. He still loves you – and me, and Theo. Silly Daddy, he’ll grow it back.’

‘Where Daddy?’ she asked, voice muffled.

‘He took Theo out to get more narners.’

‘Sopping?’ Beatrice relaxed and looked up at her enquiringly.

‘That’s right. Is there anything you want from the shops? I can call Daddy on his phone and tell him.’ The tot looked thoughtful.

‘Ice kweem?’

‘Okay, if Daddy brings you ice cream will you give him a kiss? His face is all smooth now, like Mummy’s.’ Beatrice giggled at the thought.

‘Like Mummy!’ she exclaimed. ‘Daddymummy!’

‘You can talk to him on the phone if you like, tell him what you want.’ Sophia got out her phone and texted Bastien.

Call when you can, Bea wants to ask you for ice cream

It was a few minutes before her phone rang, during which time she had changed the little girl’s nappy and was dressing her in clean clothes.

‘Oh that will be Daddy, just wait a minute darling.’ Beatrice opened and closed her hands, demanding it for herself, but Sophia put it on speakerphone.

‘Beatrice is here, Bas. She wants to ask you something.’

‘Daddymummy!’ Beatrice burbled. ‘Ice kweem, Daddy.’

‘Come on now, say please.’ Sophia prompted. Beatrice put on her cutest expression, unaware that her father couldn’t see it.

‘Pweese Daddy, stawby.’

‘Okay Bea, I’ll get strawberry ice cream. I love you, my little Bea. I’m sorry I scared you.’

‘Silly Daddy. Kisses!’ There was a short pause before Bastien obliged, blowing kisses to his daughter. Sophia tried not to laugh, wondering where he was and who could see him.

‘Okay now Bea, Daddy has to get the rest of the shopping. He’ll be back soon.’

‘Bye Daddy.’

‘Bye, my sweeting. Be good for Mummy.’ Beatrice slid off Sophia’s lap and went off to the toybox, obviously happy with life, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

‘If it’s any help, I told her your face is like Mummy’s now, so be prepared to be called Daddymummy until she’s forgotten. You’d better grow that beard back fast, mister.’ she said in a low tone. 'and be prepared for a rough bedtime, she'll be full of beans after that nap.'

@sirbeepsalot @katedrakeohd @fluffyfirewhiskey @bascmve01 @rainbowsinthestorm @nomadics-stuff @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30​ @stopforamoment

[1tsnoya]

900

bro.. i am... screaming.. 900 FOLLOWERS??🥺

thank u guys so so so so much i am so soft rn HSNWK i wanna cwy 👉👈💞💖💕💓💞

[u can skip if you’d like i’m just being soft on main] i started this blog at a dark place in my life so to see all the love it has gotten makes me the happiest person alive. my life is still going through it’s bumps but logging into tumblr makes me feel so much better about it.. i don’t know how to explain it i just🥺you guys make me the happiest. and a little more excited to wake up and write. i was so nervous to start because i had no idea how to. and here we are. thank u. i love u babies mwah kithy for all of u<3

**i opened requests last night because my mind has been very foggy lately (thank u btw i got so many good ones!!) i was gonna close them this morning but i’m gonna keep them open for the rest of the day to celebrate 900

thank u again i just luv u!!💕

[cg-saturn]

hewwo sa'un...

i no doin good :(

jus founded out dat my grampa is weawwy no doin good an dey tink... dey tink... i ca't eben say it wifout cwying :(

i stiw hav aww my gwanpas an gwamas so dis neber hapen before i dunno howta deaw wif it an i ca't stop cwyin n 'm weawwy widdle an ca't feew good 'gain

i scawed :(

-cosmo

C/TW - loss and d£ath

Hi cosmo, I'm so so sorry to hear this news kiddo :( I know how hard it is to lose your first grandparent, my grandfather passed when I was 14. It's a hard experience, but I want you to know first and foremost that you're not alone in this feeling. Sometimes when someone is close to the end, it's all you can focus on, but it's important to take these last moments to celebrate their lives and let them know they've made a difference in this world.

Death is different for everyone. We all have different after-life scenarios, some people believe in a paradise, while others believe in just cold nothingness. There are 7 billion different versions of what comes after life because it's unknown, but what we do know is that today, as we're alive, we can make things better for others and ourselves by being kind and loving eachother the best way we know how. If you're able to spend time with him, don't use it to wallow in his current state but to learn as much as you can while you can to keep his story and smile alive in your heart.

Personally, I have a philosophy based on the law of conversion of energy. Scientifically, energy can't be created or destroyed, only stored or in use. I personally believe that when our physical forms expire, our souls split up into new energy and life for the future. This isn't the place to fully explain my soulmate theory, but I do think when someone passes their soul is reused in multiple parts, becoming new life with old energy and creating the link that connects us all- love. He will be with you in the form of friends, of each beautiful day, of the changing leaves and the blooming flowers, always.

Although no one knows what comes after our passing, you can take whatever time he has left in this world and help fill as much of it as possible with love and joy. Learn as much as you can about him, write it down if you can, and keep him alive in memory. When his time does come, it will be hard to process- but if you find ways to celebrate him instead of mourn him, you'll find him in every flower and every passing airplane instead of being soaked in sorrow. If you need to cry, cry! If you need to scream, scream! Let it out, let it all go, all the fear of the unknown and what comes after. Don't hold it in. But once you've let it out, remember the good. Remember the smiles, the laughs, and who he was, and remember that his story is still alive with you.

If you need anything, my dm and askbox are both always open 💕 this is a hard change to deal with, but you're not alone. Star and I send the biggest hugs and most love possible, please remember that you're always welcome here 💓

Pippi Saturn

[ewritesthangs]

The One

A/N:: requested. I do take requests. Just ask away, I'm super open. Enjoy, my loves.

Bill was driving his four year old daughter to the pet store. It was her birthday today, and she had gotten a gift card along with a hamster cage and accessories. These were from a little someone sitting in the seat beside him. His wife, Annalise's mother, you. You had told her about hamsters and how you had them as you were growing up. She fell in love with all the stories and pictures you had with them. He looked into the back mirror to check on his happy little princess. She was bouncing with excitement, playing with shape board. He smiled as he saw her, a spitting image of her mother with his lips and eyes.

"I want to name him Mr. Gween!"

"Mr. Green? How about we wait until we pick one out." you tried to reason with Annalise.

"but I wike Gween."

You shake your head, not wanting to argue with her. You look over to Bill who is just chuckling while watching the road. You pinch his thigh.

"ow! What was that for!?"

"back me up Skärsgard."

"I'm staying out of this."

You roll your eyes. The vehicle turns into the pet store parking lot. Annalise begins to clap her hands in excitement. Once parked, you and Bill get out. Bill gets Annalise, since you are 7 months pregnant. Annalise grabs both your hands as you walk across the parking lot. Upon entering, Annalise's already big smile, grew. Reaching her eyes as they sparkled with delight. She let's go of your hands and begins to run.

"ANNALISE VICTORIA SKÄRSGARD!" Bill yells, running after her, but not an angry yell. A worried, papa bear yell. You just shake your head as you waddled along. Annalise was leaning up against the glass up her tip toes, watching all the hamsters. Bill let's out a loud sigh of relief.

" chill papa bear. She's in a pet store."

"she takes after you."

"that she does." you beam, super proud.

"I wike Dat one." she points to a fluffy gray hamster, who was sleeping in the corner with some of his cage mates. Her face pressed up to the glass. Bill bends down and looks at the one she picked out.

"he looks perfect Lisey." he kisses her head. And the little hamster she had picked, woke up. He looked around, nose sniffing the air, before walking over to the glass. He stands on his hind legs and leans against the glass with his paws. The hamster then pressed his nose to the glass where Annalise was.

"daddy wool!" she whispers.

"that's how mommy's hammy chose her. He chose you Lisey." he whispers.

"whoa." she whispers, looking up to her dad. The associate came up to them.

"so, who are we getting today? Is this for you?" the associate asks, as Annalise hides behind bills legs.

"go ahead Lisey, they won't bite." Bill chuckles, rubbing her back.

"da gway one in da back." Lisey says ever so softly.

The associate chuckles and nods. "the beautiful gray one. Whatcha gonna name him?" the associate gets a little box and picks up the hamster with ease. The hamster squealing in fright from being woken up and then taken from the warmth of his bin mates.

Annalise gasps. "you huwting my baby!"

"Lisey, he's just scared. I promise princess." Bill says, picking her up.

"he's okay, see?" the associate shows her the hamster.

"chestew. Hi chestew." she smiles and looks down upon the small hamster.

"Chester?" Bill inquires. "I thought Mr. Green?"

"juss wike mommy's hammy." she pipes up, looking back at you. Your hormones get the best of you, causing you to tear up. "oh mommy! No cwy!"

"happy tears princess." and with that she nods and blows a kiss. You catch it and place it on your heart. Your little family thing.

"well Chester will have a great family to adopt him." the associate says, handing the closed box to Bill. "is there anything else you need help with?"

"no thank you. We got her everything else for her birthday." you say. "but thank you again."

"enjoy!"

Once you cash out, you guys head to the car. Bill puts Lisey in and hands Chester to her. (in the box)

Lisey watches Chester run around as Bill gets in the car and drives off.

"daddy wut if he bite me?"

"daddy will make sure he doesn't bite you. Let daddy handle him when we get home."

"but I wanna hol him!" Lisey whines out.

"daddy will let you hold him, but not too long. He may get scared and try to jump." she pouts and crosses her arms, looking away from the rear view mirror. Bill sighs and then nudges you. "hey lady skärsgard, help me out." he smirks, eyes staying on the road.

"I'm staying out of this." you mocked his voice from earlier that afternoon.

"you're the expert."

"crap. Alright. Lisey-bug, we have to tame him. That means we all hold him as much as we can. But mostly mommy and daddy will hold him. He needs to get used to being held and loved. We don't want him to nip at you and hurt you." she side-eyes you and then nods slowly.

" Otay. " she still pouts but sounds just like you when you have a little tude going on. Bill snickers and covers his mouth.

" I yub chestew. "

" and he loves you munchkin."

[foolishlovebugbaby]

he loves me, he loves me not. | part 1

hanahaki-disease!au / highschool!au

Summary: it’s hard watching your bestfriend hack up brilliant yellow tulip petals as a result of being the apple of someone’s eye. it’s even harder, however, to fess up and admit that you’re the cause of his respiratory ailments.

Genre: fluff, slow-burn.

Word count: 3.8k

The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from unrequited love, where the patient’s throat will fill up with flower and will then proceed to cough up the petals. One of the only ways for the disease to ‘disappear’ is if the said person returns the feelings.

AU where the person you love is the one coughing up your favorite flowers.

There are many defining moments in a person’s lifetime. 

Some have the day they turned double-digits as one. Many have the death of a loved one alter them for life. Others choose their most spectacular adventure as the moment of their transformative ascend. 

Yours, however, came in the form of a freckle-speckled brunette and bright green scissors. 

“T-teachew! Teachew! Fe-Fewix cut my haiw!” you wailed, your tears spouting from eyes that were too big for your face. 4-year-old you was in complete and utter shambles- what once was your pride and joy (long hair that you had been growing out since you were 2- albeit it only reached your shoulder blades, it was a lot for your wanna-be Rapunzel dreams) was now a sad excuse for a very asymmetrical bob cut. And it was all because of that grinning, moon-crescent-eyed boy with a hefty handful of your snipped hair clutched in his left hand and a bright pair of apple-green scissors in the other.

“You shouwd thank me! Youw haiw is awways annoying you! You keep fwipping it off youw shouwders.” He retorted, brows coming together and huffing as he crossed his little arms over his chest. Poor Felix really did have good intentions- he really wanted to help you out of your predicament; he’d always seen you brush your thick hair away from your face and decided that enough was enough. He wanted to be the prince in shining armour that freed you from your cage- or, in this case, your hair. And anyways, he’d always wondered what it would be like to cut hair.

You shrieked louder.

“Now I can’t be Wapunzew and it’s aw youw fauwt!” unending tears flowed as you flailed your short arms around helplessly, throwing a tantrum at the nursery. The teachers did their best to shush you and coax you into calming down, but you wouldn’t have it. Felix was public enemy number 1, and you were merciless. 

Well, merciless for a 4-year-old.

“He shouwd be in time outsies!” you declared, pointing an accusatory and humorously chubby finger at the boy. He gaped.

“No! I won’t get to pway wif my fwiends!” He argued, his big brown eyes widening at the teacher as they pleaded his case. Luckily for you, she wasn’t one to crumble at cute puppy-dog eyes and pouts that could send authoritarians in a heart-fluttering outburst.

“Lee Felix, in the naughty chair right now!” she pointed sternly at the naughty corner that held the most dreaded seats in class. Granted, they were just step-stools spray painted black with the words “Time Out ☹️” written in bold white letters surrounded by an infant safety cage to keep you locked in- but in your world of rainbows and blissful ignorance, that corner was the world’s worst prison cell and Felix was about to enter a world full of hurt. 

His eyes brimmed with tears as he slumped dejectedly and dragged his feet towards the naughty corner. You laughed menacingly.

“Losew! Muahaha, that’s what big-bums wike you get!” you watched too many cartoons with evil geniuses, and that definitely showed in the way you smiled wickedly and rubbed your hands together like you were gargamel and Felix was the first smurf you caught. You stuck your tongue out at him and made an L shape with your fingers that you planted firmly on your forehead. 

Boy, were you one mean 4 year old tyrant. 

“Y/N! What did I say about foul language and teasing?” The teacher had her hands on her hips and a disappointed glare written all over her face as she stared down at you. Foul language was an... interesting concept in nursery.

You stared up at her towering figure and shrinked back. “Off to the naughty corner for you.” She sternly held onto your chubby wrist and dragged you to the prison. Your small, growing mind could not comprehend why you were the one being punished when you were the victim of this ruthless attack. 

“B-b-but-!” 

“No but’s!” Felix snickered immaturely at that. “I want you both to reflect on what happened today and make up, got it? No playing or moving until I get back!” The teacher scolded and they nodded submissively, eyes glued to the floor with arms crossed on their chest as she sauntered out of the room. 

You glanced at Felix out of the corner of your eye and huffed. The bitterness was eating at you, so you scooted as far away as you possibly could in the small confines and let out a very angry hmph. You fiddled with your hair- or, what was left of it, and began feeling an overwhelming sense of misery. My poor poor hair...

Your sniffles broke the rather tense and awkward silence between you both. You cried softly to yourself, and little Felix could feel the guilt swallow him whole. His little heart softened at the sight of you.

“H-hey, d-don’t cwy,” he cautiously scooted his stool closer to you and placed an arm around you. “I-I’m weawwy s-sowwy.” His full lips pouted when you only looked away.

“I-I just wanted to hewp you,” His doe eyes glassed over with tears of guilt as his arm retreated from your shoulders and onto his lap where he fiddled with his thumbs.

You hated to admit it, but your fickle heart didn’t like being so harsh on the pouty boy next to you. But he took it too far, so you stood your ground even if you did want to go back to making unshapely flowers with him. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Felix move to the edge of the pen and stand on his time out stool, his small arms stretching as much as they could towards the table directly in front of you. 

“What awe you doing?” You asked curiously as you turned to him. He placed a finger on his lips as he successfully grabbed a marker and piece of paper. You only looked more confusingly at him as he turned his back to you, scribbling something on. You pouted.

First this punk cuts my hair, then he hides-

“I-I know it’s not weal, b-but I just wanted to say sowwy.” He held up the paper right in front of your face. The once blank pink sheet now had a bundle of haphazardly drawn yellow flowers- if you could call it that. The petals were scribbled on and the stems looked more like waves, but hey, what more could he have done with no table and a limited colour selection?

His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were hopeful, “M-maybe if you agwee to be fwiends then I could tew mommy to get you weal ones?” You stared at the paper then at him, joy fluttering through you. 

Picasso? Rembrandt? Michelangelo? Who were they? You only knew Lee Felix, and he just drew you the greatest florals you’d ever seen. 

You giggled loudly and hugged him. “Ofcouwse we can be fwiends!” You shook him around in your tiny arms and he giggled along with you. “But you have to pwomise not to cut my haiw ewer again,” You looked him dead in the eye, your hands planted on his shoulders as you held him at arms length. He nodded vigorously. 

“I pwomise.” He held a pinky up to and you gladly intertwined your own. 

So maybe you did end up with shorter hair- but then again, you also managed to end up with yellow tulips and a best friend.

-

“Gosh, I feel so bad for her.” Felix grimaced next to you as you both sat in Math class. “She looks like she’s about to cough up an entire rose meadow.”

“Tell me about it.” You mumbled and looked pityingly at the girl in question. She was coughing up a storm right at the front of the class, red rose petals littering her desk and covering her math work. It was sad, really- news went around that she had dumped her boyfriend just a few weeks ago, and while she was able to move on and tear herself away from the animosity of teen love, he clearly wasn’t. Lo and behold, she had come down with a case of the nasties- the one disease that showcased your desirability while also managing to turn you into an other-worldly sort of TB patient on acid. The Hanahaki disease. 

Or, hacki-hacki, as Felix liked to call it. “Get it, because they hack up a florist’s dream?”

What deity out there decided that bestowing this cruel respiratory ailment was a good idea? You had no clue. But the pitfalls of highschool had made it especially arduous to face. Sure, love was fickle, and true love even more so at this age, but that didn’t prevent any cases from whizzing through the hallways ready to grapple it’s next victim mercilessly. Privacy for dealing with unrequited love was a luxury that no one could afford.

“As antagonistic as it seems, I’m so glad no one’s in love with me.” Felix declared. “I wouldn’t be able to stand having petals clogging up my oesophagus.” 

“I have a feeling the universe is going to wreck you sideways just for saying that.” You snort. 

“Well, after today there’ll be absolutely no school for the next two months which means neither of us will have to face the horror that is High School Hormones,” He puts an arm around you and looks up, as if envisioning something in the air, “and we’ll be able to bask in the glory that is Summer.” A few beats pass with you in utter confusion over what it is you both were staring at until you snort and flick his forehead. 

“You are so dramatic, Fefe.” He scowled at the nickname. “Summer is going to be so boring since everyone will be out the country except me.” You huffed and pouted, slumping in your seat. 

He sat up straighter, “Hey, I’m still going to be here!” 

“And what about it?” 

He gasped loudly, quite dramatically, too, and held a hand up to his chest. The whole class shot their heads up like meerkats and looked towards your table, Felix’s ears turning crimson from embarrassment as you tried to bite back a laugh. You were amused at the boy, really, at how he’d manage to turn everything into a melodramatic screenplay if given enough inspiration to do so. 

“Your heart is on the other side, genius.” He glared at you and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. You’re such a spoil-sport, you know? But, being the generous person that I am, I’m willing to forgive your disrespectful ass.” You scoffed. “Baby, you and I are going to have the greatest summer ever, and I won’t allow anything less.” He leaned back, all smug and proud as if he had already planned the greatest holiday itinerary to ever exist. 

You glanced at him, skeptical, but accepted the idea nonetheless. What’s the worst that could happen, right? 

“If we don’t have the City Girl Summer of our dreams, then I’m blaming you.”

-

“You burnt the cookies.”

“I did not burn the cookies,” Felix reaches over and grabs one straight out of the tray, instantly dropping it due to it’s scalding heat. It flips over on your countertop and topples, landing on its face looking like a sad excuse of a choco-chip- which, in retrospect, it was. 

“Okay, so maybe I did burn them.” he defends poorly, scratching his temple.

“Maybe? It looks like the sweat stain on Mr. Song’s brown button up whenever he demonstrates where the axillary lymph nodes are.” You snicker and he scowls at you, shoving your arm. 

“I get it, I get it, geez. But in my defense I wouldn’t have burnt them if you,” He points his small index finger at you. “Had reminded me to check on the cookies every five minutes. So, really, this is all your fault.” He waves the same finger around the messy kitchen, which looked like a tornado had raided it’s contents in an unsuccessful attempt to find hidden treasure. 

“Are you kidding me?” You gasp in disbelief of his accusation. The nerve of this boy was insurmountable, and you’d think more than a decade’s worth of friendship would have taught you that his juvenile ass was always ready to pick a fight out of thin air. But, just like his ego, your contentious self would not go down without a fight.

You gaped like a fish, having a flurry of obscenities ready to spew out and lash at him, but all failing to make it past your lips as a result of your vexation. So you growled, like a damn beast, and stuck your hand in the flour bag. His eyes widened, “You wouldn’t.” He huffed, squinting his eyes at you so as to call your bluff.

Wordlessly, you fisted the flour in your hand and hurdled in straight on his face, which became somewhat of a nuclear white, the flour covering his hair all the way down to the neck line of his sweater. They really weren’t messing around when they called this thing ‘all-purpose’.

You giggled, the hostility in you practically vanishing like the puff of flour that wafted through the air between you both. His eyes were shut tight and his lips were pulled in a straight line. “You think that’s funny?” He says lowly with his head tilted to the side as he rubs the flour from his eyes.

“I think it’s hilarious.” You squeak, the humor in your voice obnoxiously apparent and he bites the inside of his cheek, nodding and looking around. 

Within and split second he has you in a headlock, your back against his floury chest and his arm around your neck as you squeal and squirm. You see his free hand reach over for the egg carton, and you can’t help but think your mom would kill you once she gets home.

“Woah there buddy, let’s call a truce, why don’t we? C’mon, you know I love ya.” You humor, trying to appeal to him so as to not get egged. 

“Pro tip; dousing an egg spillage with salt makes for easier clean up.” 

“Why do you say tha-” Oh.

You gasp; the feeling of eggshell cracking against your skull wasn’t one you were... accustomed to, to say the least. You felt the slimy and cold contents trickle down your forehead and you swore you could summon the wrath of a thousand gods in that moment.

Felix lets you go as he laughs boisterously, enjoying your distress a little too much. “Oh shit,” He breathes out wheezing and doubles over in laughter. You angrily wipe your face and glare at him, “Oh shit is correct.”

Now, if anyone were to walk in on the whole debacle, they’d be in for a treat. It was like watching a rerun of Tom and Jerry- only Tom was a freckled brunette wheezing in laughter and Jerry was a 5-foot-something girl clinging onto him in a chokehold. 

“What in heaven’s name...” Your mom stood at the entrance of the kitchen, mouth agape and absolutely astonished by the sight before her; flour scattered all over her granite island, egg shells cracked on the floor, a tray of sad cookies turned over on the counter top, and “Is something burning?” 

She has yet to lay eyes on the pair of you- which was a good thing, since the sight would have sent her into cardiac arrest. But that momentary save was short lived as it was quite hard to not notice the fact that her daughter was grasping her best-friend’s son like a baby monkey clinging onto its mama. 

You and Felix stare back at her, mouth opening and closing like goldfish. “It’s all his fault, I swear.” You point a finger to his head below yours with the hand that, only a few seconds ago, was clawing at him.

“Are you kidding me?” He whispers-yells at you, “I swear, she started it.” He shrugs you off of him harshly and you trip but regain your balance. You snarl at the back of his head. 

Before you could pounce on the boy again, you hear your mom harshly tsk your way and you freeze. “One day you kids are going to give me a heart attack,” She shakes her head and sets the grocery bags at the foot of the entrance. “Luckily, today is not that day. Now start cleaning up, both of you.” She points a finger at the pair of you and begins to walk away.

“Is it okay if i stay the night aunty?” Felix quips before she completely disappears and you make a face.

“What? No wa-”

“Of course you can sweetheart! Our home is your home~ I’ll call your mom and tell her.” You gag. Your mom always adored Felix and there was nothing you could do about it.

“You know, sometimes I get the inkling that my mom loves you more than she loves me. She coos sweetheart at you and calls me by first name, like what is up with that.” You huff once she disappears out into the hallway. Felix turns to you, a proud look in his eyes, “Of course she loves me more. Have you seen this face?” He makes a sickeningly cute face but fails to get his point across due to the layer of flour covering it. You only roll your eyes and throw a wet towel at his face.

“Get to cleaning, flour boy.” You snicker at your joke. 

“You’re really not funny.” 

You both move through the kitchen, wiping down the countertops and floor with the occasional quips of disgust over the mess you made. Covering spilt egg heavily with salt did, surprisingly, help get rid of it as you came to find out, but patting Felix on the back for his ‘pro-tip’ and boosting his ego was not something you were up for. 

“Why are you sleeping over, by the way? It’s been ages.” You aggressively wipe the dried up chocolate on the top shelf- how it managed to get there was still a mystery to you. 

“Precisely! The last time we did, it was winter break,” He scrubs at the burnt crumbs that melded themselves on the baking tray, “It’s only fitting that I take refuge in your humble abode for a few days, so that I can kidnap you and make you stay over at mine’s.” He grins at you and you chuckle. 

“I have to see you everyday this summer, don’t I?” 

“You can count on it, baby.” He winks 

You whine at his pet name, “Stop calling me baby- do you know how many people think we’re an item?” You finish up cleaning, walking over to the sink to wash your hands. “I swear, so many people at school are convinced we’re dating and I can’t help but want to vomit each time.” You lean onto the counter next to him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh shut up,” He scoffs and shrugs. “Besides, we both know that I’m single, and you’re a wild beast incapable of love.” He jokingly cups your cheek and pouts and you smack him on the arm. 

“Okay okay I’m sorry, stop assaulting me geez.”

-

“So are you feeling Jaws or Clueless tonight?” Felix holds up the two DVD’s in his hands and contemplates, shaking his damp hair from out of his face. You had just come out of the shower, taking longer than expected as a result of having to scrub out a myriad of baking ingredients from your body and hair. Dressed in your grizzly bear onesie, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in your sheets and knockout. But clearly Felix had other ideas. 

He sat at the foot of your bed, shuffling through your Dad’s old DVD collection in attempt to pick out a movie with your hoodie on. Well, it wasn’t exactly your hoodie per se; it was his that he had left a couple sleepovers ago and you had officially claimed domain over it, refusing to give it back. But it was so soft and warm and cuddly, how could you let it go?

“Just pop in any.” You said and flopped onto the bed on your stomach. 

“That does nothing to help me.” He looks up at you and you shrug. “Jaws it is then.” 

You scroll on your phone while he shuffles through your room, turning off the lights and lamps before making his way towards your bed. 

“Jesus Christ!” You wheeze out when you feel his weight on top of you. He had jumped onto your body, smothering you into your bed and you wanted to rip the freckles right off of him one by one. Gruesome? Yes. Necessary? Absolutely. 

“Your hair smells nice.” He giggles into the back of your head and you squirm. 

“Get off of me!” He pouts and rolls over next to you. 

“Forgive me for wanting to be affectionate.” He huffs. 

“So your definition of affection is doing a WWE smack down?”

“We’re all a little different, okay!” You snort at him. How you managed to put up with him was a mystery and a half.

After constant uncomfortable shifting on your bed with a few kicks at each other here and there followed by a “Is this my bed or yours?” “Practically mine, since I picked it out for you.”, you both settled comfortably in your sheets with him sprawled out horizontally while you used his tummy as a pillow. Try as you might, but you couldn’t help but feel the muscles on his abdomen. 

“Someone’s been going to the gym.” You poke at his middle and he giggles, “That tickles!” 

His fingers run through your hair instinctively, combing through the tangles and layers and massaging your scalp. You hum at the feeling. 

You two definitely had your shared moments of chaos with each other daily, but you forgot how nice it was to not want to slit his throat every time he opened his mouth. 

“I’m glad you’re here this summer, fefe.” You say sleepily and he chuckles. 

“Just say you’re in love with me and get it over with.” You pinch his sides. 

It had been so long since you last spent your summer together. It was always either him travelling outside the country with his family or vice versa the last few years, and he was glad that he got to keep you all to himself this time, even if he wouldn’t admit it. High school was breezing by too fast and sooner or later you both would have to part ways, so he convinced himself that it was okay to be selfish this time. 

“Do you think we could go see a sunrise soon?” You mumble drowsily into his middle. His fingers moving through your hair was doing wonders to lull you to sleep, but you weren’t complaining. 

“Anything you want.” He replies sleepily.

“And maybe learn surfing and get .” 

He smiles down at you, “Sure thing, baby.”

--

a/n: god, i wanted this to be a oneshot so bad but lord knows i wouldn’t be able to put it out for months if it were. so here’s another multi-chapter fic from me- no bullet points this time n better slow burn (hopefully) :) stick around for more <3

[siriuslyweirdfren]

Technically Queenie was 'born' a legilimens, but obviously as a baby she probably couldn't really understand coherent thoughts so much as maybe understand their emotions with a sort of empathy infants don't usually possess. The gift would have grown and expanded as she got older, getting stronger after her parents died: she spent nearly all (if not all) her time with Tina, who took care of her to some extent, even if they were provided for by an orphanage. Tina was still little herself, but her immediate concern was always Queenie. But Queenie insured Tina was never neglected for too long, either. At first Tina would silently cry herself to sleep each night, but soon Queenie would know without hearing and nestle up next to her and say, "don't cwy, Teenie. You makes me wanna cwy." And Tina would smile and say "well, then, I better stop," and hold her hand and they would fall asleep together. After a while Queenie would know when Tina snuck her some of her own food, and always tried to give it back. "I know you wants it, Teenie. I know you's hungry. You just want me to have it 'cos you love me, but I loves you, so you gotta take it back."

It was like a little bit of mother's intuition that stayed behind, just the little bit of care that Tina needed to survive.

[rickssugarplum]

Keep on Dancing

This is just another Ballerino Story. He meets a Morty who is a beginner at ballet.

SFW. Swearing, Mean Words, Bullying, Citadel, Ballerino Rick, Dancing Morty, Ballet

     ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

It was another regular day at the Citadel. Rick is walking down the street to the dance studio to practice for a few hours. The streets are the usual type of busy. Ricks of all types walking or driving going on with their daily lives. For him it was just a simple stroll. When he gets there, he looks at the door a sign that puts his day on hold

Classes C͟a͟n͟c͟e͟l͟l͟e͟d͟ today due to alien break in

We are sorry for the inconvenience

Now red with irritation, Rick now is left wondering what to do. He had to find some way to practice. It’s possible he can do some warm ups at home...

He sighs as he might as well be on his way back home.

     ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ 

Morty was walking in fast paces to his fourth ballet class. He enjoyed dancing very much and felt a sense of freedom when he would put on his shoes and dance to his heart’s content. But, he was still afraid of what people might say. Usually he would go to the studio early in his regular clothes so he could have enough time to change into his leotard and ballet shoes. However, he was running a little late today and he had no choice but to walk down the street in his dancing gear. It was like any other stroll to the studio for him; until...

“Hehe. Don’t prance too hard, prissy pants.” gawked a Morty. 

Morty winced a little at that, but shrugged it off. He’s just another Morty. He’s a kid. Kids can be jerks, he tried to tell himself. Just keep looking forward, it’s just a few more blocks...

“Nice tights,Twinkle Toes!” Heckled a Rick.

That stung a little more. He expected Ricks to be more open-minded, but I guess not every Rick is so accepting.

You can do this, Morty. You’re almost there....

Out of nowhere, Two Ricks came out in front of him and blocked his way. Morty stopped as he saw the two menacing looking men towering over him. Their sneers hit him to his core.

“Hehe look at this little fairy! On your way to ballet class?” one said mockingly. All Morty could do is take little steps back, hands to his chest.

“You look so dumb in the getup, little bitch. Gonna wear a little tutu and tiara?” the other snickered as his counterpart snickered at his cruel joke. They were far from done.

“Man, I feel bad for the poor Rick that got stuck with you! Ricks want a science partner and this one got a prissy dancer. What a shit deal he got!”

Morty was frozen as tears started welling in his eyes. His throat tightened at how powerless he felt.

“Awwww Is the little ballerina gonna cwy??” The two Ricks snickered at the boy who was now crying at their cruel words.

“Haha! Wuss!”

“Sissy!”

Every mean word was a punch to Morty’s heart. Tears slid down his face as they continue taunting him. Throughout their merciless laughing, he felt so small; so weak.

Meanwhile, they were unaware of the Rick that was behind them. Their laughs and insults seized they both felt a heavy clunk to their heads. Morty screamed in fear as the two men fell over only for another Rick to come in full view. He was so freaked out, he was expecting to be attacked next.

“You okay, kid?” the Rick finally spoke. Morty’s damp eyes looked up in confusion looking at this Rick who wore a soft expression on his face, much different than the Ricks who were now unconscious. 

He looked down at them only to realize that the Rick he was speaking to was wearing a pair of black ballet slippers. He gasped as he looked up at him again.

“I-I-I heard what those pricks were saying. Pretty fucking low to pick on a kid, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Y-y-yeah..” he answered meekly.

Rick sighs. He sees the kid is clearly shook up at this whole experience. Looking at the young boy in leotard wiping his eyes, made him think back to when he was young. When he himself had been called every unoriginal name in the book. At his age now, he could give a shit what people think. But hearing a child being mocked for it....was unacceptable.

“Listen, kid,” he starts as he kneels down to get to the boy’s level. “There are a looot of assholes in the world who are so miserable, they’ll stoop low to bring down anyone else down with them...”

Morty looks down at his feet, clad with his dance slippers, looking ashamed. Rick noticed the kid’s solemn look immediately.

“But don’t let these worthless fucks stop you from doing what you love.” His face was stern.

“You like to dance?”

“Yes..” Morty answered quietly, twiddling his fingers.

“It makes you happy?”

“Y-yeah...bu-”

“So you keep on dancing. And don’t let sheep tell you what you should be.”

For the first time that day, Morty let out a little smile. He couldn’t believe there was a Rick who had the same passion he had. It made him feel like he wasn’t such a freak after all.

“Th-thank you, Rick...I will.” he promised. The older man smiled at that answer.

“Good.” He then stood back up. “The studio is actually closed today so, we could find another way to practice. I can even help you with some techniques if you’d like.” he offered.

Morty’s face lit up. “Oh s-sure! Th-That sounds great!” he beamed.

“C’mon, we can practice at the gym downtown.” He led the way. Stepping over the two passed out Ricks, they introduced each other formally and told the other about themselves on the way.

Morty didn’t feel alone anymore. He found a Rick he could really relate to. It gave them hope that he could fulfill his dreams.

And Rick would be damned if he didn’t help him get there.

❤

[icecoldbloodtype]

A/N: *trumpet sounds* Hi @cashton-queen it is I, your secret Santa! Sorry this is so late😬 It’s honestly been a pleasure! (and a pain bc cute boyfriend Ash hurts me as much as I love it) I hope you like this, I tried to be as cute and cliché winter as possible. Even sprinkled a little dad!ash in bc why not. Love you Cindy!💚💜❤️💙 (Excuse any typos, i didn’t proof it😬)

Also shoutout to @dukehoods @flannelpunkcalum and @plainwhiteluke for organizing this whole exchange! It’s been so cool seeing all the winter blurbs and things! I genuinely love seeing all the happiness spread on my dash, and y’all are cool for starting it. ❤️

Now without further ado, here ya go Cindy! (Also wow this man is beautiful damn)

“Nadia, you wanna help me bake some cookies for Cindy?”

Ashton was in the kitchen with his 4 year old daughter on his hip. Nadia had woken him up and he’d slipped out of bed so as not to awake you. He’d given her a bath and dressed her for the day before feeding her breakfast. Now, he needed to do something to keep his daughter busy but also to put a smile on your face.

He took down the ingredients and set them all on the table, and placing Nadia in a chair at the table. “Here you go, you wanna help daddy make cookies?” “Yeah!” Nadia giggles and makes to grab the flour. “Hold on baby... let me just...” Ashton mixes his dry ingredients with his wet ones, and puts a small dollop in Nadia’s hand.

“So you just, roll a little bit between your hands like this....” he shows her and Nadia immediately begins to try and copy how Ashton rolls the dough into a ball and put it on the cookie sheet. “That’s it baby!” “Fanks daddy!” Nadia beams and giggles. Ashton works through the dough and Nadia gets most of hers on her face and clothes. “We made a mess didn’t we baby? Let me go get a towel.” He makes sure Nadia is still rolling before going to get a towel from the kitchen.

Ashton is walking back when he here’s a crash followed by Nadia crying, causing him to run back to the table.

It’s then that you wake up, to the sound of Nadia crying and Ashton consoling her with “An ‘it’s okay baby, you didn’t mean to’.” You run downstairs and see the cookie dough on the ground, and Nadia screaming next to here . “Babe, what’s wrong what happened?” You ask sleepily.

Ash grimaces as he says “I was trying to be a good boyfriend and make you cookies but we kinda dropped them...” he shrugs and rubs his neck.

“Oh is that all? Is that what all the noise was?” You give him a sleepy smile and make a silly face at Nadia, who’s already gone from screaming sobs to just tears streaming down her face. “Well it’s a good thing, I always have a backup batch of premade cookie dough isn’t it Miss Nadia?” At this the tears stop and Nadia looks at you, “Really? More??” You nod at her, “cmon we’ll go get them while Daddy cleans this up!”

You and Nadia get the premade cookie dough, “This is so much easier isn’t it? And look there’s cute little Christmas trees!” Nadia giggles and hugs your legs, “I wike Cwis’mus twees!”

Ashton returns from cleaning and looks fondly at his two girls, happy to have you to diffuse the situation quickly. He comes and wraps his arms around you from behind, the two of you watching as Nadia pulls apart the cookie pieces and places them on the cookie sheet. “Thanks Cindy, you really are a baby whisperer.” He presses a kiss to your temple.

“It’s no problem! It was a quick thing, the least I could do for you guys letting me intrude on daddy-daughter time last night.”

“What are you—“ Ashton begins, before a scream of “All done!” Comes from Nadia.

“Very good baby, better than any cookie daddy could make.” Ashton puts the cookies in the oven and sets a timer.

“Now what’s this about intruding? Nadia, we like when Cindy’s here with us don’t we?” Nadia nods enthusiastically.

“Are you guys sure?” You ask hesitantly.

Ashton’s “of course!” Blends with Nadia’s “yeah! We wike you.”

You start to tear up a little because for this man and his angel baby to have accepted you into their lives was sort of spectacular. You thank god that you ran into Ashton at the grocery store that day nine months ago—quite literally ran into them.

Nadia comes to you, and pulls on your shirts her asking you to pick her up. “Cindy, don’t cwy!” She squishes your face between her hands, her attempt at making you smile. You make a fish face at her so she knows your okay. Ashton smiles warmly at the both of you.

“How about after cookies, I take you guys out?”

“Where?” Nadia asks, already it excited.

“It’s a surprise!” was Ashton’s mischievous reply.

Uh oh...what was up this man’s sleeve?

——

It turns out, Ashton’s surprise was ice skating, something you’d both wanted to do this holiday season.

You and Nadia both squeal with excitement as you wait in line for skates. Ashton doesn’t know who’s more ready for this, you or her and it’s the cutest thing. You get your skates, and lace Nadia’s up. Ashton snaps a picture on his phone for later.

“Alright! Who’s ready to hit the ice?”

Nadia walks v slowly to the ice, one hand in Ashton’s. She tentatively puts one foot on the ice, then the other. “Okay baby, I’m right here okay? I won’t let you fall.” She slowly becomes more accustomed to the ice and holds Ashton’s hand less tight, beaming as they go around. It’s your turn to take pictures now, not wanting to miss out on the cuteness. You skate towards them, and Nadia stops. “Skate wif me Cindy,” She never lets go her dad’s hand, but grabs yours with the other.

Ashton stops a passerby, “Hey, can you take a picture of us?” The three of you pose together with Nadia holding both of your hands and again with her on your shoulders.

“Wow, your daughter is so cute you two.” You blush and move to correct him, but Ashton just grins and says thank you.

—

The three of you tire yourselves out after a couple hours and make it home. You sit in the living room with cups of hot chocolate, in attempts to warm up from the rink. You’re sitting on the couch with Nadia between the two of you, but Ashton’s arm around your shoulders. Home Alone is going on the television, but none of you are really paying attention to it.

“Well, it’s now or never” Ashton thinks.

Ashton clears his throat and you look at him. “Nadia, do you want Cindy to go home tonight?”

She shakes her head, “No. Stay!”

You’d love to but...”Guys, I don’t have anymore clothes here! I’ve been here for too long already.”

“No time is too long babe.” Ashton interjects.

“Yeah but...” you start. Ash grabs your hand, and takes a visible gulp before continuing.

“Nadia, don’t you think Cindy should keep more clothes here? Like all of her clothes?”

Nadia nods enthusiastically, while your eyes widen. “Ashton, why would I...”

“I’m trying to ask you to move in! Nadia loves you, and you know I would go to the moon and back for you. You’re here all the time anyways! What’s the point of paying rent there if you’re always here?”

He has a point...you did spend the better half of a week with the two of them. “But...”

“But nothing. You’ve wedged your way into this little family, and you’re gonna have to deal with it.” Ashton’s eyes are twinkling, but his heart is pounding in his ear as he awaits your answer.

Nadia’s looking at you expectantly. “Pwease Cindy? Stay wif us!”

That’s all the confirmation you needed, “Well I guess I can’t argue with this cutie huh?”

Ashton lets out a loud whoop and kisses you directly on the mouth. “Daddy!!!!” Nadia shrieks, “You’re sqishing me!”

You and Ashton look at each other, reading each other’s minds and turn to Nadia. A silent nod from Ashton and you’re both tickling Nadia sides and arms and anywhere that you can reach, the laughs of the three of you filling his—no, your home.

[sorrelstream]

hey so do you remember the nightcloud and squirrelflight au you did about half a year ago? cuz I sure do. would you mind giving some headcanons? I especially want to know how they met + fell in love, and if alderheart and sparkpelt were their second litter. also, I love your art. it’s amazing!

OH YEAH I REMEMBER HFBFHDSF imma put this in a read more due to I RAMBLE SO MUCH but fair warning im indecisive on a LOT of these things so a lot of this may be subject to change !!!

ive been bouncing around with a bunch of different nightsquirrel au/ideas especially bc they feature as a couple in my rewrite !!! so theres still stuff i have to figure out n what not especially bc i havent decided how i want the three + breezepelt to be their kits - mainly bc i REALLY love the idea of breeze being the result of nightcrow and the three being the result of leafcrow but as night+squirrel end up raising the kittens together bc i just. love single parents finding love in each other SKSKFDS 

but whats certain!! in this au/my rewrite, nightpaw actually went on the journey with crowpaw (2 cats were chosen from each clan instead of one, so in shadowclan rowanclaw is the 2nd cat btw!! not relevant but still wanna mention that) so nightpaw meets squirrelpaw on the journey,, at first they have a bit of a rivalry (nights more level headed and steady while squirrel is ykno rowdy as hell so they kinda irk each other n squirrel tends to egg night on bc night happens to be a touch competitive) but they eventually develop a friendship over the course of the journey that evolves later into a pining romance (nights a bit more hesitant about accepting her feelings bc she doesnt want to break the code while squirrel admits her feelings to herself but doesnt let night know at first bc she thinks night like. genuinely loves crow which night ... tries to but just doesnt fhbff)

as for sparkpelt and alderheart !!! neither in this au or the rewrite (which im kinda mashing together bc its Basically the same thing fhbfhf) are alder+spark the kits of squirrel/night unfortunately! theyre actually part of an abandoned litter (alongside dandelion and juniper who survive in this) who are adopted and raised by Hollyleaf + Hazeltail!! so theyre actually night/squirrels grandkits :’3c!!

THANK U SO MUCH ABT THE ART THIING BTW IM CWYING IT MEANS A LOT!!!