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mae-gi-writes · 3 years

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Once Again (PT.I) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN : PART ONE

Summary: Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother.

Genre: fluff, slight angst, f!reader x dad! Iwaizumi

A/N: There will be 2 or 3 parts of this oneshot! Depending on how long I feel like writing. Thanks for checking it out and stopping by! Let’s dive into some Iwa moments :,)

NEXT PART -->

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“What’s your return policy on rings?”

The saleswoman smiles sympathetically behind the counter. That stupid sympathetic smile he’s been getting for weeks on end now. And it never stops; with his co-workers, with his family, his friends...

Iwaizumi’s sick of it. He’s sick of having to prove that he’s doing just fine, thank you very much. When in truth, his heart is constantly being torn apart and stomped upon as is people have nothing better to do than torture him in their free time.

“I’m sorry, but these rings have been brought more than three years ago, and our warrant only lasts for three years,” the saleswoman keeps on talking but it doesn’t matter, for Iwaizumi can already feel the anger slowly creep up through the back of his neck, can already feel the vibrating emotions clogging up his sense of judgement.

His fists clench at his sides upon impulse, the physical pain of his nails driving into his palms enough to remind him to stay cordial. It’s not the woman’s fault, the better part of him chants, it’s not her fault at all.

“Fine,” he manages to grovel out, barely, “thanks anyway.”

He all but storms out of the shop while shoving the rectangular box back in his pant pocket, and though it’s been more than four months since his ugly divorce with the woman he’d hoped to share the rest of his life with, the weight of their promise hangs heavy and hot upon his thigh.

The thing is, Iwaizumi is mad. He is seething. If one were to give him a bat, he’d probably destroy the entire town by himself. Not because she was the one that cheated, not because she was the one going behind his back numerous times a week to seek out her lover when he’d been basically driven mad between Hoisuke’s cries and the stress of call meetings scheduled back to back.

No, he’s angry. Because how the fuck could she do this to Hoisuke? How can she break the child’s heart like that, so ruthlessly, without even thinking twice about the consequences?

Because if there is a victim in all this, then it’s definitely Hoisuke. And not only that, Hoisuke understands that his mother has been acting strange, that she doesn’t return at regular times and that her hugs now smell of cigarette smoke with a bittertaste of alcohol.

Iwaizumi is so caught up in anger that he almost blunders past his battered Hyundai, red and chipping away at the corners. Still, this car holds so many memories, the good and the bad ones.

“Can’t you get a newer car? I thought your company could sponsor you,” the ghost of his wife’s voice echoes through his head, a blatant reminder of all the things she’d found wrong in his life.

“Why?” he’d tilted his head around to fix his gaze on her figure bending over the sink. The TV was playing in the background and he thanked the gods that the morning comics were taking up Hoisuke’s attention, enough to distract him from his parents’ quibbles.

“It’s just--so old and tacky.”

“It still works well, doesn’t it? Why change it now?”

She’d paused, hesitated slightly before blundering on, “It’s embarrassing. My colleagues keep asking if we're poor or something."

"Who cares what your colleagues think?"

Fuck her, Iwaizumi mentally swears as he turns on the ignition. Fuck her and all her needs for a better life. As if the life they had wasn't more than enough. Pulling out into the street to join the incoming traffic, he blinks away the sudden tears accumulating at the corner of his eyes and swears once more, this time aloud, glad that Hoisuke isn't in his presence when he gets in such a foul mood.

Iwaixumi may be angry. He may be filled with pent-up rage from the memory still attached to the day he'd discovered a used condom in their bathroom trash. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

That doesn't mean he does not still cry into his pillow over it every night.

----

"Please don't forget to do your homework for tomorrow! We'll correct them before moving on to the next chapter," you call out to your students as excited chatter fills the air. Students rise from their seats, some calling you bye and waving as they all file out of the classroom and you can't help the small smile lingering over your lips even though your feet are killing you.

Outside, parents have already lined up to collect their kids, the chatter and bustle of people ebbing away down the corridor as you let out a soft sigh.

"Miss?"

You jolt, not realizing that one of your students stands by the table wringing his hands, "what's wrong Hoisuke? Dad's not here yet?"

He shakes his head, watery eyes blinking up at you as he raises his thumb to his lips. You stand quickly and motion him to come close until he's within reach before your hand smoothes over the back of his head, "it's okay. He's probably stuck in traffic. I'll wait with you."

It's not surprising that parents get tardy once in a while and you're all too accustomed to those slight change in plans. Thankfully, you manage to distract the young boy with some coloured crayons and a piece of paper while you dial for his father's number.

It keeps ringing. No one picks up.

You try once more, one more time after that. But still, nothing. It shifts to voicemail. You decide it's better than nothing, "hi Iwaizumi-san. This is Y/N, Hoisuke's teacher. I was just wondering what time you would be picking up Hoisuke? Please call me as soon as possible. Thank you."

You end the call only to spot Hoisuke's eyes on you, intent and impatient for you to explain, "it's okay," you tell him with a smile, "he'll be here soon. Don't worry. Do you want to keep colouring some more?"

Hoisuke nods, to which your smile widens. It's those special moments, where your shyest students express themselves, that your chest warms with sympathy and affection. You've been there, you know how it feels like not to be heard, and you appreciate every interaction they offer you.

Being a primary school teacher is tough, especially since it wasn't in your original plans. But the satisfaction of bringing up some of the world's future leaders cancelled out all the late nights correcting tests and scrambled weekends trying to finish off as many worksheets as you possibly could for the coming week. You can’t complain, not when you have a decent salary that keeps bread on the table and a roof over your head.

A tug on your sleeve brings you back to Hoisuke looking up at you, a scribbled drawing of what seems to be of him and his dad. You feel yourself chuckling at how he's drawn both their hair in brown spikes, erratically extravagant and yet so close to reality.

"That's really good, Hoisuke!" You beam down at him, "what do you and your dad do on weekends?"

He shrugs shyly, head averted to the side so that there's no need for eye contact. And in the shyest voice he can muster up, he says:

"Daddy brings me...to see Mama," Hoisuke's words are barely above a mumble, "they live in different houses. They can't live together anymore."

Uneasiness squeeses in your stomach, followed by sympathy for this soft-hearted boy. You had overheard some of your colleagues giggling about Hoisuke's dad being attractive and single -- a combo that teachers adore -- but that doesn't mean that the weight of his words don't lay heavy on your own conscience.

"Do you miss your Mama a lot?" You ask him softly. Unconsciously, your hand finds a way to smooth over his head.

The boy doesn't pull away. Instead, he nods, "sometimes. But it is better this way. Daddy smiles more now. And there's no one to shout and make noise."

"Are you happy, Hoisuke? With your dad?"

He nods and to your amazement grins, "daddy is funny. He tells me not to swear but when he burns the food he always swears. And then he says to shush and tells me to close my ears. He also makes me pancakes every Saturday morning before I go see Mama."

Right on cue, a figure bursts through the open classroom door and both your heads snap to see a drenched, older version of Hoisuke who looks like he just finished running a marathon.

"I'm--" he wheezes, causing you to stand in alarm and concern, "I'm sorry I'm--so late--"

"Daddy, you forgot me again!" Comes Hoisuke's statement as you ask Iwaizumi if he's okay. He shakes off your worry with a flick of his hand and a shake of his head, "I'm fine. Sorry-- there's a nasty rain outside--"

"It's okay," you reassure him as Hoisuke practically barrels into his father and almosy knocks him off his feet.

"Sorry Hoisuke," you watch Iwaizumi's hardened features soften ever so slightly as he ruffles his son's hair. Then, looking back up at you as you bring over Hoisuke's backpack, he says, "thank you. For looking after him."

"It's no problem, honestly. We had fun didn't we?" You grin down at your student and are delighted to find Hoisuke grinning back up at you, albeit shyly, "I put his homework in his diary. He'll need to complete it for tomorrow so that he doesn't fall behind in class."

His father nods, "alright. Thanks."

"Daddy, your hair looks atrocious," Hoisuke says, tugging onto his shirt.

"Atrocious huh?" Iwazumi's eyebrow rise, "someone was listening in their English class today."

"Atrocious means that it looks bad. Daddy, your hair looks bad."

"Thanks buddy, I knew that. Now say bye to Miss Y/N."

"Bye bye, miss Y/N," Hoisuke says, wriggling his short arm through the air as you wave back with a giggle. His father nods at you in silent thanks, makes a move to walk out of the class, only to swivel back to you just as you're collecting your bag.

"Uhm," he clears his throat, causing you to jump slightly, "yes?" You blink back at him and try hard not to stare at the way his white shirt clings to his toned chest, translucent from the rain.

"Do you need a ride?"

-----

You've known Iwaizumi since high school. Having graduated just two years later than he did, his reputation had preceded him throughout the school halls even though you'd never actually had any face to face interaction with the said man. Iwaizumi doesn't know this of course and you are adamant about keeping it a secret. But that plan seems to be unraveling before your very eyes the moment your small talk turns towards your academic history.

"You're from Aoba Johsai?" His surprised glance doesn't escape your notice, especially since that's the most reaction you've gotten out of him.

"Yeah," your eyes stay glued to the row of cars crawling through the motorway, "I remember you went there too, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"You were Aoba's ace volleyball player. Everyone knew who you were."

His silence answers you and for a moment, you fear that you might have offended him. Not that it's something to be offended about.

Before you try to scratch your brain for some kind of response -- any response -- Hoisuke pipes up from the back seat, "Daddy was famous back when he was in high school. He hit the ball like kapow! And jumped so high he can touch the sky."

"Oh? Have you seen him on camera?" You turn slightly, a small smile dangling off your lips at how adorably amazed and excited Hoisuke seems to be.

"Yeah! His spikes are so awesome! It goes pow! And it zooms! Like a cannon ball!"

You burst out laughing, "yes, your father was amazing whenever he was on the court. Every girl in our class had a crush on him."

"What's a crush?"

"Hmm, you know when you really like someone. You like like them, you want to be together with them. Like, girlfriend and boyfriend."

"Oh," Hoisuke draws out, "did you really like daddy too?"

"Yeah I did."

"What?" Iwaizumi almost chokes on his own spit at the same time traffic eases and you're glad for the distraction, for you're certain there's a scattering of colour upon your cheeks.

"Do you really like him now?" Hoisuke persists, undoubtly untouched by the embarrassment taking over his father's features and you swear that more than ever, you want to laugh at how flustered Iwaizumi looks.

You decide to play nice though and instead turn to wink at your student, "that's a secret for me to keep."

You don't have to look twice to know that the man beside you is bursting into hot flames.

-----

"Did you really like Mama before you started living separately?"

Iwaizumi swears that he's never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Not when he's had to state that he was divorced, not when he had to sign divorce papers half drunk off his ass. Not even when he'd raged after his said ex-wife after finding a tie that wasn't his own in his laundry pile.

Now is probably a good definition of what uncomfortable means.

"You're not gonna let me off the hook are you?" He steals a glance at Hoisuke from over his shoulder while stirring the vegetable curry, "yes, I really liked your mother."

"Did she?"

The word 'yes' almost slips past his mouth. Except, he isn't sure whether that's the truth and decides to shoot back with, "have you finished your homework, Hoisuke? You know it's due tomorrow. Miss Y/N said so."

"Do you really like miss Y/N?"

"What?" Iwaizumi frowns, "well--no. Not like that."

"Why?" His son whines, "I really really like Miss Y/N. She's nice to me and she never shouts. And she bakes good cookies!"

"How'd you know that?" Iwaizumi leans over to taste a bit of the sauce. Not bad, he thinks and mentally pats himself on the back. A few weeks ago, he would've probably burnt the entire house down.

"Because she bakes them every month. Every time we finish a test."

"That's nice of her."

"Yes," there's a pause as the man fishes out a bowl in which to serve the curry, "daddy, what do you do when you really like someone? Do you marry them like you and Mama did?"

"Uh--yeah. Sure."

"Then does that mean I need to marry Miss Y/N if I really like her?"

"Yup."

"Daddy!"

Iwaizumi bursts out laughing. Turning off the stovetop and bringing the bowl over to the dining table, he reaches out to ruffle his son's hair with a grin, "you're the one who has a crush on miss Y/N."

"She's too old for me Daddy," grumbles Hoisuke while scooping out two rice bowls as the pair sit down for dinner, "but she'll be good for you."

"Not that simple, buddy," Iwaizumi says as he dumps two spoonfuls of curry into his son's bowl, before doing the same with his own, "there's a difference between like and love."

A frown falls over his son's face, so like his own that Iwaizumi can't help but chuckle, "what is the difference?"

"Well, when you really like someone, you might want to get to know them better. Or play with them andd shit--stuff like that. When you love someone, it's..." he hesitates, "it's different."

"Why?"

There goes that innocent question that punctures his chesy a little too deeply. The brown-haired man steadies his gaze upon the calendar fixed on the wall opposite him as he answers with:

"When you love someone, you want to live with them. You want to start a family with them. Their happiness," his brown orbs switch back to his son's focused attention, "their happiness is all that matters."

Maybe it's the fact that he's not used to speaking so truthfully about such things. Maybe it's just Hoisuke who suddenly realizes the layers hidden beneath his father's poker-faced exterior. But for a moment, neither of them speak, as if bewitched by a silencing spell if broken by the scraping of cutlery against porcelain.

"Did you love mama?"

Hoisuke's voice is small, fragile. So fragile that Iwaizumi pauses just as his spoon reaches his mouth, glancing over at his boy. His beautiful boy.

"Yeah."

Another short pause. "Did she love me?"

"Of course she did," Iwaizumi's face softens. To be honest, Hoisuke hadn't showed any kind of restraint during the entire divorce procedure, had merely accepted things as they had unfolded before his very eyes. But sometimes, Iwaizumi fears his son might be keeping more from him than he lets on.

He ressembles his mother a lot in that sense.

"Then," wet coffee-coloured eyes blink up at him, lips trembling with a hoarse whisper, "why'd she leave?"

Before his father can say anything, the young boy bursts into tears.

Iwaizumi rushes over, clasping Hoisuke in his embrace as the child buries his face into his neck and cries and cries and cries. His little heart beats like wild horses and with every sob echoing through hid body, Iwaizumi feels his own heart break over and over again. One of his hands rub comforting circles of Hoisuke's back, while the other smoothes over the back of his head as he murmurs soft nothings in hopes that it will calm down the young child.

"I want--" Hoisuke's voice is thick with tears, "I want Mama--"

"Shh, hey it's okay," Iwaizumi murmurs out, "s'alright kiddo. I got you."

Hoisuke falls asleep eventually, the soft sniffles dying out into even breaths as he slumps against his father’s shoulder, probably tired out from his earlier emotions. Iwaizumi takes this as his chance to tuck the boy into bed, glad that he’d listened to the small subconscious in his head telling him that Hoisuke would be falling asleep sooner rather than latter.

As he smoothes over his son’s hair, a part of him wonders how much Hoisuke is still silently hurting from his mother’s departure. He can’t imagine it; suddenly changing lives like you’ve merely changed your bed sheets and Iwaizumi had been so caught up in his own heartbreak, in his own bout of silent rage, that he’d forgotten that along the way, Hoisuke was also a victim to their endless fighting, the cold war that had broken his family apart.

He wishes he can take the pain away, ease it somehow. But it’s not that simple. The truth is, no one can actually predict how a heart gets broken, nor when it does. The only evidence are the repurcussions. And it’s only now that Iwaizumi gets to see it truly take its form.

Leaning over to press a soft kiss to Hoisuke’s forehead, Iwaizumi murmurs his silent goodnight before walking out and gently closing the bedroom door behind him.

He leans onto the hard wooden surface and rubs his eyes. It is only upon pulling them away that he takes notice of the family photograph hanging on the opposite wall, frozen smiles wrapped up in lies.

He really needs to take that down.

-----

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bigredsartt · 3 years

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Let’s give this a try...

TW: Age Regression (Sfw), Intrusive thoughts

Age regression is a healthy coping mechanism in which someone reverts back to a childlike mindset to cope with trauma, missed childhoods, stress, etc.

Mirabel finding out what age regression is and trying it out.

Mirabel sat on her bed, tears streaming out of her eyes. Why did everyone hate her? It’s not her fault that she didn’t get a gift! She picked at the skin on her arm, drawing blood as intrusive thoughts flooded into her brain.

“Why did I have to turn out like this..I’m no help to the family..” Mirabel grabbed a stuffed monkey that was sitting beside her and hugged it, hoping that would make her feel better. It always did.

Suddenly, the intrusive thoughts were replaced by innocent, childlike thoughts as she slipped into a different headspace. This only lasted for a few seconds before Mirabel was snapped back into reality by Isabela calling her.

“Mira, time for dinner!”

“Coming!” Mirabel wiped her tears away and quickly cleaned up the blood before walking into the dining room. “Mmm, smells good, what did you make mamá?”

Julieta sighed, kissing her daughter’s cheek. “Same old arepas, I’ve been busy lately.”

Mirabel smiled, taking an arepa and putting it on her plate. “That’s okay mom, we all understand.” She started eating, thinking about the mysterious mindset from earlier. It was so..calming. For once, all the pressure was lifted off of her shoulders and she felt like..a kid.

She had to figure out why she felt like this. She had to figure out what this was. Mirabel excused herself from the table and went to Dolores for advice. Dolores heard pretty much everything in town, so she had to know what this was.

Mirabel tapped her cousin on the shoulder, not wanting to scare her. “Hey Dolores? I have a question.” Dolores spun around quickly, giving Mirabel her full attention. “What is it?”

“Well..” Mirabel trailed off. “Uh..when I’m sad, I usually do this thing where I hug a stuffed animal, and I...feel like a child?” She winced, bracing herself for the hundreds of insults that were about to come her way, but Dolores just smiled. “Mirabel..that’s called age regression. I’m a little too!”

Mirabel tilted her head, relaxing a bit. “What’s age regression?”

“Age regression is when you revert back to a child’s mindset as a coping or defense mechanism, but some people do it for fun!”

Mirabel nodded slowly. “So..what do you do when regressed? Just sit there?”

Dolores laughed. “I mean you can..but I personally like to color in coloring books or play with dolls! Actually, I have some little gear in my room if you want to grab some.”

“What’s little ge-whoa!” Mirabel was cut off by Dolores dragging her to her room. “Trust me, you’ll love it when you fully slip into littlespace.”

“Littlespace?”

“Your regressed headspace! It’s amazing.”

Mirabel entered the room and saw a small dollhouse in the corner. Dolores grabbed three dolls, a coloring book, and some crayons.

“Use these next time you feel small, okay? I promise it’ll help you a lot.”

Mirabel nodded and took the gear, waving at Dolores before she returned to her own room. She sat the stuff on the bed and stared at it.

I guess I could give it a try...

Mirabel sat on the floor, grabbing the coloring book and crayons. She flipped to brand new page and closed her eyes. She thought of childhood memories like flower crowns from Isabela, piggy back rides from Luisa, and singing with Dolores. Mirabel felt the world get smaller around her, feeling tinier and tinier every second.

She opened her eyes, deep in a regressed headspace. She grabbed her monkey stuffie and held it, singing to it and brushing it’s fur out with her fingers. Mirabel giggled as she grabbed the crayons, scribbling all over the pages of her coloring book.

She was the happiest she’d been in a long time. Dolores was definitely right, Age regression was amazing.

However, this only lasted a few minutes. Mirabel started to feel less small and less happy. She sighed as she put her little gear away and cleaned everything up.

“I’ll see you soon littlespace..” Mirabel frowned. “Hopefully I can figure out how to do this again..”

ksjskskj this is so bad, it’s my first time writing anything in a while

Anyways, I hope you liked it! I’m looking forward to doing more Encanto agere posts in the future!

#agere encanto #Agere #sfw agere #sfw age regression #agere fanfiction #fandom agere #encanto #mirabel madrigal #disneys encanto #encanto disney #encanto fanfic

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casualmaraudering · 4 years

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happy birthday to my favourite boy!! i had to write a domestic drabble featuring little leo, because honestly, this is the life sirius deserves and should’ve gotten

Sirius is woken up by what appears to be a toddler sized fit of giggles bouncing up and down on the mattress. When a long few seconds passes, and Sirius still doesn’t stir - just to see what happens - said little bag of giggles climbs on top of him and sits himself down on Sirius’s stomach, once again bouncing a few times just to make his point.

“Wake up!! Wake up wake up wake up wake up!!!”

Sirius finally cracks and pulls his son down onto his chest, relishing in the sound of his happy squealing and kicking his small legs.

“Hello you,” Sirius says to him, smiling into the boy’s hair, still breathing in the bubblegum shampoo from the bath they’ve had yesterday (with far too many bubbles, perhaps, but at least they had fun, even if Sirius had to clean the bathroom floor). “Where’s your dad, huh?”

Leo perks up, and kicks himself away, only to carefully climb down the bed, and run out to the hallway.

Sirius sits up on the bed, stretching and letting himself wake up fully. He’s usually the first one out of bed, so to have both Leo and Remus up and about is a little strange.

He’s about to leave the bed when Leo comes running back, carefully holding something (that seems to be a small sheet of paper or card) in his hands. No later than a second later, Remus walks into the doorway. Holding a tray.

“Happy birthday daddy!!”

Ah, right. He’s almost forgotten. He’s officially 30.

Remus appears to be carrying breakfast on a tray, pancakes and coffee, and a few cupcakes, one of which even has a candle.

Remus sets it down on the bedside table carefully, helps Leo on the bed, and then smiles at Sirius sweetly.

“Happy birthday,” he leans down into a kiss. And really, Sirius’s birthday is already as good as it possibly can be. “You’re old now.”

“You’re just a year behind me,” Sirius bites back, but leans down for another kiss. Remus laughs and pulls away.

“Breakfast first.”

“I’m the birthday boy,” Sirius argues - he does reach for his coffee though. “I get as many kisses as I want today.”

“Daddy,” Leo whines shyly, pulling at Sirius’s sleeve. When Sirius turns to him, he pushes the piece of paper he was holding into his hands.

It’s a birthday card. On the front is a drawing - stick figures (as good as a three year old can make them) of Sirius, Remus, and Leo between them, all smiling and holding hands. There’s even Padfoot in the corner (or, well, Sirius thinks it’s Padfoot - it looks like a black blob, but it seems to have a tail).

Inside, there’s Remus and Leo’s names - Remus’s neatly scribbled in a black pen, and Leo’s shakily written in a blue crayon.

“Thank you, love,” Sirius says - he places the coffee back down, then the card, away from all the food so it doesn’t get dirty, and pulls his boy in, kissing him on the head. “It’s beautiful. I’ll put it on my desk so I can look at it every day.”

“And there’s cupcakes,” Remus nods towards the tray.

“I helped!” Leo chimes in, smiling widely.

“He did help,” Remus makes himself comfortable next to Sirius, snuggling into him, and reaching for one of the cupcakes. “He licked the spoon,” he adds quietly.

“Well, thank you both. It’s the best birthday I could ask for.”

“Wait,” Remus picks up the cupcake with the candle, and carefully hands it to Sirius. “You need to blow it out.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, but does as he’s told - and when he does, Leo claps happily, accepting his own cupcake from Remus.

The bed will be covered in crumbs and little chocolate handprints very quickly, but Sirius can’t find it in himself to care - if spending a happy morning with his family means he has to do laundry tonight, so be it.

“What did you wish for?” Remus asks him quietly.

Sirius shrugs with a smile, kissing his head. “Aren’t I supposed to keep quiet about it so it comes true?”

“That rule doesn’t apply to husbands.”

Sirius laughs. “There’s really not much to wish for, honestly. I have a great husband and a wonderful son. All my dreams have already come true.”

“You’re sappy in your old age. And there needs to be something.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, but then his grin falls back to a soft smile, and he sighs thoughtfully.

“A new baby. Is my wish, I mean.”

Remus raises a brow. Sirius shrugs.

“You know I want a big family,” he explains further, watching Leo happily - and messily - finish his cupcake. “He’s big enough that we can handle a new one. If you’d be on board.”

Remus doesn’t say anything for a minute - Sirius doesn’t dwell on it. If Remus doesn’t want it, he’ll deal with it. They already have an amazing little boy, it’s really more than Sirius ever thought he’d have.

Sirius is pulled into a kiss suddenly - Remus is grinning into it.

“Of course I’d be on board, silly.” Remus says to him, smiling that beautiful shining smile that always reminds Sirius of the rays of sun beaming through the blinds at the earliest morning hours. “Maybe we’ll even have a little girl this time.”

Sirius smiles, resting their foreheads together.

“Yeah. That would be lovely.”

He really has nothing more to wish for. Life is perfect the way it is.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #leo black #my tag #my writing tag #i am a sap for families okay #this is the life sirius should've had #he deserved love and a family #not proofread cause we die like men

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youllneverknowrac · 4 years

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Oscar Diaz-Lockdown

(MBS)

“Anthony, mijo you are ten years old. You should know this multiplication shit by now.” You hear Oscar say as he sits in the dining room with both school age boys and Junior who had his own work to get done. Angel sitting at the table as well as he pretends to do school work by coloring,”Do the problem again and actually show your work.”

You guys have been stuck in the house for three weeks now due to the virus, the only person that was able to leave being Oscar since he still had to go to work. Thankfully it was Friday afternoon so that meant he was at home and could take over the role of teacher. It was fun being able to teach your kids at first, but after three days you wanted to pull your hair out. Carlos and Anthony, your two sweet boys, hated anything to do with school and put little to no effort. The only good thing that came out of this virus was that your oldest son was now home, his campus closing down for the time being. Even though you were glad he was back, you couldn’t wait for things to go back to normal. You were going a bit stir crazy and needed time to yourself. But alas the mommy role was a never ending one.

“I have snacks.” You smile, coming in with a tray of finger sandwiches you made and a bowl of chips. Oscar has been at it for the last hour with them and you figured they could use a break.

“Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Give me.” Angel says and drop his crayons excitedly, Carlos and Anthony sighing in relief that you came to the rescue.

“Say please.” You remind as you set the items down

“Please mommy.” He says and holds his hand out

“Good boy.” You smile and pass him one of the smaller cut sandwiches, letting the boys eat while you go check on Alexander who sat in his pack n play in the living room.

“Hi fat boy.” You coo at him, making him giggle as he wobbles to pull him self up,”Do you want to come with mommy?” You ask, picking him up and giving him a kiss,”My happy baby, yes you are.”

“I will switch right now.” Oscar says from behind you,”I’ll take the baby, you take them.”

“Hmmm let me think.” You smile as you turn around, Alexander snuggling into you chest,”No.”

“Mami please.” Oscar begs,”I love our kids, but they are going to make me jump through the fucking window.”

“How do you think I feel? I’m here 24/7.” You say,”With ALL of them. At least I offered to watch the baby while you help them with their work.”

“Fine, but if I start yelling and shit starts getting thrown you can’t blame me.” He groans

“If you yell at any of my baby’s.” You start, setting Alex down on the floor to scoot around,”You’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.” You finish, wrapping your arms around your grumpy husband,”So you better take a few deep breaths and remember that you asked for this life. You put those kids in my stomach so you can’t get frustrated with them when times are hard.”

Oscar sighs and looks up at the ceiling in thought before meeting your gaze,”I’ll try my hardest to not go crazy.”

“Good.” You smile and pucker your lips, Oscar rolling his eyes before pressing his own against them,”Love you, now get back in there.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too.” He mutters, turning around and heading back to the dining room. You can’t help but laugh as he sulks, sitting down on the floor with Alex while you pass the time by watching one of your shows.

“Mommy! I’m done with my work.” Angel says about half a hour later causing you to exit out of the program, no way you would be able to pay attention now.

“Oh yeah? Let me see.” You smile and take the page from him, the once white paper now filled with random color scribbles everywhere,”Good job baby, it’s so good. What color is this?” You ask him as you point to a green line that he drew.

“Um green. Like the grass.” He answers with a smile,”I’m a smart boy mommy.”

“The smartest.” You say and set the paper down on the coffee table, letting him sit across from you. Alexander sitting a few feet away while he plays with some toys.

“Mommy?”

“Yes?”

“Can we go to the park?”

“No, you know we can’t Angel.” You sigh,”Why don’t we go play in the backyard?”

“Backyard is boring.” He says with a shake of his head,”I wanna go to the park. Park!” He yells his mood instantly changing as he grabs one of the toys that laid near him,”Park, park, park!” He repeats angrily as he cries, the toy flying across the room.

“Go to timeout, you don’t throw things.” You say and stand up, grabbing his arm and helping him up to his feet, Angel trying to pull away with all his might,”Now.” You say more sternly

“Let me go.” He screams,”Play at the playground!”

“Angel, stop.” You sigh before your husband swoops in and picks the toddler up, holding him at arms length.

“A quien le gritas?” He asks,”Are you screaming at mommy? You are a kid and you do what she says, no questions. So go get in timeout now.” Oscar says as he sets him back down, his little feet taking off to the corner and facing the wall,”Stop crying, o te daré algo para que llores.” He warns, all noise ceasing from Angel.

“Thanks.” You say not meeting his gaze, you knew the kids needed discipline, but that was the area you failed in when it came to parenting. Oscar was usually the punisher which is why the kids never questioned his authority,”I feel like we’re all gonna snap any day now.” You admit, running your fingers through your hair messily.

“Yeah, but he still needs to listen and he can’t be popping off like that.” Oscar shrugs,”Even before all this lockdown bullshit started he always threw a fit when he couldn’t get his way. I’m tired of it, you need to stop babying him.”

“I don’t baby him.” You lie with a shake of your head. It was true, he was probably the one you babied the most out of all of the kids. Even when his brothers were his age you didn’t have to treat them like you do Angel.

“So you don’t carry him around on your hip all the time? You don’t let him sleep in our bed still? You don’t pick up every single thing after him? You don’t...” Oscar continues before you cut him off.

“Alright so maybe I do just a little.” You say, glancing back at him,”I don’t know why I do it, maybe it’s cause he has a different personality than the boys did. He lets me baby him. He can claim big boy status all he wants but he loves being my baby. I know I need to stop but it’s just so hard.” You groan, resting your head forward on Oscar’s chest, letting him embrace you.

“I like when you baby me too mami.” He chuckles softly,”But there has to be a limit.”

“You’re right.” You sigh and pull away,”Can I start tomorrow though? I just wanna cuddle him right now.” You admit, Oscar playfully rolling his eyes and not even bothering to respond before going back to the other kids.

You walk over to the sulking boy and pick him up,”I’m sorry mommy.” He sniffles and rest his head on your shoulder as you hold him,”I hate inside.”

“I know baby, me too.” You smile sadly and press a kiss to his forehead,”Are you going to be a good boy now?”

“Yes. No more timeout pwease.” He begs, even though he wasn’t even there for more than two minutes,”I’ll be a good, good, good boy.”

“Works for me...How about we build a fort? A huge one?” You ask him excitedly,”It’ll be so much fun.”

“Yeah!” He cheers,”Come on! We need to get blankies.”

“Go get the ones from my room, I’ll stay in here with Alex.”

“You got it.” He laughs before running down the hall and disappearing. You grin happily and go over to pick up the baby, heading to the dining room to ‘let school out.’

“Enough work, come help me and Angel build a fort.” You say, Anthony and Carlos darting up and racing to the living room,”You guys too.”

“Sure, why not?” Junior shrugs as he closes his laptop and goes to join his brothers.

“Come on.” You grin and hold your free hand out for your husband.

“I’m coming.” He reply’s, nonetheless taking your hand in his. The two of you joining the rest of the household for some quarantine fun.

“I know they are a lot to handle, but I think we would be bored if we didn’t have all of them in here with us.” You whisper to Oscar, all five of your kids spread out around you and fast asleep in the makeshift bed. After building the fort you guys spent the rest of the inside of it watching movies and eating junk food. Each kid falling asleep one by one until it was just the two of you awake.

“Yeah, I thought about that too.” He yawns,”We’re pretty lucky. Even luckier if you finally gave me my babygirl.”

“Stop.” You whine, Oscar bringing up this conversation at least twice a week,”We don’t need another kid. Are the five we have not enough?”

“They are enough, but I wouldn’t mind one more.” He chuckles

“That’s easy for you to say when you’re not the one carrying a whole human for nine months and then pushing said human out.” You remind him,”Besides what if it’s another boy? Are you still going to want to try again after?”

“If it’s a boy then it’s a boy.” He shrugs,”I know it’s going to be a girl though.”

“You said that about Alex.” You laugh,”And he’s most definitely not a girl.”

“Oh my god, just have another baby. Who cares?” Junior groans from somewhere in the fort,”I’m trying to sleep.”

“Aye, callate la boca.” Oscar says amusingly,”Don’t be listening to our conversation fool.”

“Kind of hard to do when your two feet away from me.” Junior retorts, turning on his side as he try’s to fall back asleep.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow, but the answer is still going to be no.” You say to Oscar,”Now go to sleep, you have a class tomorrow morning Mr.Diaz.”

“Nah, I’m going to play hookie. One day isn’t going to kill them.” He chuckles,”Lets go for a drive or something, we don’t have to get out of the car. We could just drive along the beach.”

“That actually sounds fun. Let’s do it.” He agrees.

“Awesome.” You grin excitedly,”I cant wait, we all need to get out for a while.”

Oscar hums in response, lightly rubbing his eyes tiredly,”Night mi amor.” He says moments later

“Good night.” You reply, kissing his cheek before letting your eyes close. Angel’s foot digging into your back, but you didn’t care. You were too tired to move him. Each day since being in lockdown making you more and more exhausted, but it was okay. Being trapped in the house with the people you love most is way better than being stuck all alone.

#on my block season 3 #on my block #omb #netflix on my block #on my block imagines #oscar diaz #spooky diaz #spooky x reader #oscar diaz x reader #one shot #couple #kids #family

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diamondsableye · 4 years

Text

“Can I practice my crafting skill again?” Pale inquired from underneath the large classroom table, the interior shadowed by a mass of sheets having been draped around the rectangular surface like a veil punctuating the distinction from a temple’s inner and outer sanctums.

“Mmm... Roll to see how much you can improve it.” Stated Grimm after a brief moment of thought, passing the multi sided die to his classmate. The quartet had managed to sneak out one of their teachers emergency flashlights and were using it to illuminate their mishmash of character sheets, crudely constructed miniatures, and an extremely basic game map decorated with cardboard structures and held together by scotch tape and crayon scribbles.

Pale let the plastic decider of fate slip from his fingers and roll onto the game board, careful to make sure that it wouldn’t collide with his kingdom under construction. The four souls watched with baited breath as the die spinned and swirled, ultimately landing unceremoniously with a large 5 displayed on its upturned face.

“Aw darn are you serious? That’s my third low roll in a row!” The upset juvenile wined, before snatching up the die in his small greedy digits to inspect a cause for his loss. Marvelously, the die refused to reveal its secrets, and stubbornly let the child stew in his own frustrated bad luck.

“Haha! Oh man Pale, at this rate you’ll never stop your kingdom from collapsing! I’m gonna win the gaaammmeee~! I’m gonna win the gaaammmeee~!” Jeered Radiance, taking her sweet time to rub in Pale’s foul luck with her annoying sing song taunts. The boy’s white chitin near instantly flushed scarlet from his friend’s teasings, his mood soured by the moth’s playful gloating.

“Shuddup shuddup! Once I improve my skill enough you are so going down!” Pale barked with a newfound competitive rage boiling inside him, more determined than ever to take down the fluffy pest.

“Nuh uh! You’ve got no chance. Besides, it’s your fault for taking over my village tribe anyhow. Why couldn’t you have just beaten up Grimm’s dumb troupe?” She inquired with a raise of her eye, the harsh judgement of her look not lost on her fair companion who solemnly shivered and shrunk back at the snarky attack. As soon as the boy had backed off from his haughtiness, Grimm suddenly barked back up with a fever of his own, not as used to the jagged back and forth as his friend was. With an insulted glare, he joined in on the aggravated spit, ready to stand up for his beloved world.

“Hey! It’s not dumb! It’s a-”

“-Dark nightmare cult and all with nightmares and stuff, we get it. You have a bard as your right hand man. Sooooo lameeeee” Radiance cut off the batty bug with a quick, dismissive sway of a wing, shutting down Grimm’s meager defense before he even had the chance to mount it. His own face flushed an even deeper crimson than his angrily beaming eyes, burning hotter than the dark fire he knew was raging inside his poor defiant soul.

“Hey don’t make fun of Brumm! He’s my friend’s character, and he’s perfectly awesome as is.” He stated almost matter of factly through his growl of a response, quick to stand up for the currently not present Nymm. It was one thing if himself was being fussed at, but he would not let the moth so criminally down-trod his dear companion.

“Mm whatever you say.” She mused out of boredom, waiting for Pale’s still prolonged turn to be finished up. With all the wait this game seemed to love making her endure, sometimes she just needed to rile the boys up for a bit of entertainment. They always managed to be so easily pestered it was almost too rewarding.

“I.. Still don’t understand why you need to improve your crafting stat so much... We already have our own knights, why do we need more?” The quiet juniper suddenly peeped up from the quieting uproar as if to quell the currently dwindling stream of advancing insults and tauntings. She looked up with a puzzled look as she mindlessly toyed with a small figure of her own creation, its three prominent horns visible even in the relative obscurity of the dim table tent.

“Ah my Queen Lady, we need more guards cuz Raddy wants to take over Hallownest, but we can’t use our knights because of Rad’s Tell-a-path-y. We can’t just make new characters cuz that takes too many resources, but since we don’t need character based perks, it’ll be more efficient if we just build guards instead!” Pale mused in a surprisingly coherent ramble, considering how it was he whom had insisted the installation of saw blades at every corner for protection, and now required to perform a dexterity check each time he wished for his character to walk between rooms. No wonder why his queen chose to stay in her own gardens most of the time.

“Yeah, if you can level up your crafting skill any” Radiance couldn’t help but snark, stifling giggles and failing horribly in her attempt to do so. Suddenly, before another eye rolling round of crude insults could come to pass, a glum, audible sigh was heard from outside the drawn curtain of sheets, suddenly parting to reveal a highly sultry bemused arachnid.

“Ugh you dweebs. It’s Tel-lep-a-thy, not Tell-a-path-y.” The spider had practically groaned as she invaded the group’s sacred game space, leaving Grimm practically hissing at the sudden light as a touch of the normal classroom lighting managed to seep its way in.

“Herrah! What are you doing in here? Were you spying on us?” Wailed Lady, a tremor of meek fright catching in her voice as the gang’s closely held secret had suddenly been unveiled to the outside world.

“You’re playing a game under a table with nothing but a thin sheet separating you guys from the rest of the class. Like. Everyone can hear you.”

“Oh.”

“Well what do you want then? Can’t you leave us alone?” Bemoaned Grimm, folding his pudgy cheeks in his hands like a heavy weight of boredom being supported by two pillars of barely sustained contempt. It was obvious her mere presence was enough to put off any enjoyment he was previously having.

“Well I want to join you guys, and Hornet does too.” Herrah demanded, sneering dully to the agitated lad sitting front and center in the circle of friends and miscellaneous game pieces. Their eyes were tensely locked together in a silent bitter clash, like a sputtering cooking pot ready to harshly steam and boil over at any moment.

“Why do you want to join us? You have your other weird friends, and do we even have to consider your annoying little sis? Seriously? How does she know about our game anyways?” Grimm drilled, attempting to interrogate the nosy arachnid. With a huff, he shot back to sit upright again, his arms tucked into a condescending cross as he waited for her to answer him.

“Oh Pale’s younger brother is good friends with her, and he was telling her about how much fun he was having with you guys. Simply put we’re bored and we want to do something fun.” She puffed herself with a scowl, returning the impatient gesture mockingly. She parted the curtain wider, forcing herself into the group of collected youngsters to cement her position for now at least.

“Aww man not Pure! I told him to keep his mouth shut.” Pale softly cursed under his breath, begrudging his sweet younger brother’s overly friendly nature for once. At least Ghost still hadn’t learned how to talk yet, and Kin was unable to, sort of. Herrah almost immediately caught the mutter and smirked to herself with a smug sense of satisfaction, she was moving into this group faster than she had imagined already.

“Well yes Pure. He sounded so happy to let her play too, and so she wrote out some demands for how she wants to be included.” Herrah relayed with an all too noticeable touch of cunning and snark, sure to implicate the younger sibling’s attachment as a tool to her advantage. It would be such a shame if the kind lad was let down by his role model of an older brother after all. Before Pale could give into his own sympathy however, Grimm suddenly interjected with a fiery snap, not allowing defeat to such an unfair intrusion just yet.

“Hold on we never said we were gonna include her, or you for that matter too! We’re already packed full as is!” He snarled full of bitter energy, his small sharp fangs clicking together like a strike of lightning to punctuate his contempt. This was his game after all, and he most certainly didn’t feel like sharing with a fake fan of the occult like Herrah. He knew practically for a fact that she would ruin his whole carefully planned world if given a place in it. The firm slap of denial rolled off her shoulders like a light mist of rain, and much to his surprise, her smile only widened with a sickening deviance.

“Well you better, otherwise I’m telling miss seeker.” She lulled softly, almost like she was singing a lighthearted tune, void of the very real threat her words held. Upon hearing this, Grimm let out a soft gasp, his eyes partly draining in color as the implication hung over him like a heavy storm cloud.

“You wouldn’t dare you tattle-!”

“I will.”

With that, Grimm shuddered as if he was attempting to down a foul tasting medicine, practically writhing in his seat as he tried to make peace with the necessary deed of evil. He groaned and writhed, his snakelike tail twisting and coiling as he threw a minor fit, all the while Herrah savored every moment of discomfort the young bug was performing so beautifully for her. Finally, he breathed a deep, angered huff of a sigh, agreeing to allow her to join.

“.... okay finneeee but not cuz you told us to. You can have a minor role.” He groaned as if he was agreeing to help out with something awful like housework or giving up the TV to let his dad watch sports. At least he knew he could count on Radiance to keep the mischievous spider at bay. Herrah however, was not so satisfied with this answer.

“Well if I can only have a minor role then you gotta give Lurien and Monomon roles too.” She added, the ever present threat of her ratting out the group to their pleasant yet firm teacher Miss God Seeker still holding with every word she spoke. The gang each stifled a collective shudder to various degrees of uncertainty, eyeing one another as Grimm continued to barter with the persistent arachnid.

“Your weird friends too? Well... give us your snacks for the rest of this month’s break time and it’s a deal, same thing goes for those two also.” Grimm haggled, he was gonna make sure that if he couldn’t keep them out, he and his friends would at least make out like kings with them joining. Herrah pondered the new request, mulling it over in her mind for a bit before responding again.

“Maybe, but you still have to meet my sis’s requirements exactly.” She replied inconclusively. Grimm knew that if this was going to go any farther then he’d need to see all the terms of agreement first.

“Okay Okay.. let me look them over first.” He asked with his small waiting claws outstretched. Herrah unflinchingly handed the list over, written in a crude scrawl with red marker. Most of it was legible enough to the youngin, and he sounded aloud the requests one by one, Herrah nodding along accordingly to every single point.

“So... Super fit and pretty, Super awesome ninja tools, Cute fluttering dress, super cool sword she can tie to invisible ninja spider silk ropes... Oh hrm...well she can’t be a princess.” Grimm finished disconcertingly, the hesitation palpable enough to be cut through. He exchanged a nervous glance to the “royal couple” and watched as the queen returned a sour look and subtly scooted even closer to Pale in her seat.

“...Excuse me?” Herrah questioned with a harsh bite of scrutiny, the broiling vitriol just barely contained within her tightened throat. She glared to the boy fumbling with the childish manuscript, her eyes demanding explanation.

“She can’t. Pale is the only king currently and-”

“And I’m already the queen!” Lady cut off with a possessive wine, wrapping her arms tightly around her kid crush, returning the spider’s gaze with a too cute to be serious pout.

“Okay I don’t have to be the queen whatever, I just want my own space like she does, and it’s not fair she is the only one with royal heirs.” Herrah bemoaned to the Castles and Keepers Master, before turning her attention to the wimpy King. ”If you and lady can pretend your younger bros are your princes, then I’m sure it wouldn’t take much for you to pretend my younger sis is your princess.”

“Oh come on, my mom forced me to let them play too after finding out I didn’t want them to join in and ruin everything. Your little sis doesn’t need to be royalty too!” Pale returned with a half groan half whine, he didn’t want to have to share his perfect kingdom with yet another younger kid. Herrah listened to his grievance uncaringly as she rolled her eyes to his meaningless complaint.

“But if you didn’t want them to be royal then why couldn’t you have just-”

“Because me n Pale are gonna get married one day so I gotta practice being a mamma! Pale would never marry a weird girl like you! Girls aren’t supposed to like creepy crawlies, especially spiders! Everyone else calls you a beast for a reason!” The petite sapling let out with a jealous squeal, quick to defame the intruding girl in any way possible. As she wrapped herself even tighter against the young bug, the humored arachnid couldn’t help but try and hide an entertained grin. Lady was sure one to talk for one Herrah knew how to fuss all too well.

“Oh I’m sorry, I forgot you screamed and wet your pants the day I brought Miss fuzzy to class! Miss scaredy Lady!” She shot back with a malicious smirk, teasing the small tree in nearly the same tone as the moth used to stir up trouble. Instantly Lady’s eyes sparked with an aggravated jolt of color, huffing frustratedly as the taunt instantly managed to bury under her branches.

“Meanie! You tried to put her on my head!” She cried back, her eyes growing glossy and damp from her rage and embarrassment.

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Enough!! Whatever sure you can have your character and Hornet can too and she can even be a ninja princess whatever too. Give us your snacks for the next month now and I’ll let your friends also get roles, but say anything to Miss Seeker and I’ll undo all of that!” With a sudden snap, Grimm broke through the bickering before either had the chance to start screaming, more than ready to meet any demand as long as it would bring the toneless cacophony to a standstill. Both girls backed off, Herrah with a proud, gratified smile and lady with a sniffle and a wipe of her eyes, which was quickly fixed with a hug from Pale.

“Only for the next week, no way I’ll give for a month.” Concluded Herrah, seemingly more than willing to negotiate now that she knew a position within their game was all but secured. Grimm pondered it, humming to himself with his eyes closed in thought, snapping to attention once he believed to have mulled it over enough.

“Fine then, for the next two weeks?”

“Deal!”

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theeasternempress · 4 years

Text

Baby’s First Mess

Chapter Three of “All In One Day”

Summary - Din’s baby gets into his new art supplies when Din isn’t looking and creates the biggest mess that Din has ever seen.

AO3

After reading his son to sleep, Din realized that he had nothing to do to occupy his time. When he was caring for the child and bounty hunting, he felt like there weren’t enough hours in a day to complete everything he had to get done. Now that he was taking some time away from his job, there was nothing for him to do once the baby was tucked away in his bassinet.

Looking out the window of the cockpit, Din stared at the snow-covered ground in front of him. The child usually slept for an hour or so once he was napping, so Din figured that it would be fine to leave him alone for a bit while he did some work on the ship’s exterior. He had been meaning to do so for some time and now seemed like the perfect opportunity. Grabbing his tools and doing a quick check-up on his son, Din dropped the hatch to begin his work.

The first thing that Din cleaned was the ship’s headlights. A simple thing, but vital when you needed them. After all, a cloudy lens was practically useless. Moving on to the landing gear, Din used his tools to tighten every screw and ensured that the landing gear’s sensors were functioning properly. Once all three landing gears were cleared, Din made his way to the repulsor grilles along the side of the ship. They were always hard to clean and maintain, but they were extremely important during takeoff.

Soon enough, Din had finished his repair of the grilles. Time had slipped by and Din wasn’t sure how long he had been out for, but he hoped it wasn’t long enough for his child to have woken up. There was more repairing to do, but Din would leave that for another day. Packing up his tools, Din dropped the hatch and stepped into the ship.

When he heard soft noises as soon as he stepped inside, Din was instantly alarmed. Had his son not slept well without his father there? Had he had a nightmare and woken himself up in fear only to see his father was not there to comfort him? Had he been sick again and for a second time, Din hadn’t noticed?

Din’s questions were soon answered when he spotted his son, paintbrush in hand, splattering paint across the walls of the ship’s hull. Laying around him were the paints and crayons that Din had bought him earlier that morning and as Din looked around, he could see scribbles and splatters across the ship. They didn’t reach very high, but they were all along every wall in the hull. He could see that the paint was still wet, but the waxy residue from the crayons would be difficult to remove.

The clatter of Din’s toolbox hitting the ground after falling from his grip in shock alerted his son to his presence. He giggled and cooed, dropping the paintbrush in his grasp to happily make his way to his father. Din was still stunned speechless as he stared at the colorful streaks along the walls. Even the tugging at the hem of his pants didn’t pull his attention from the mess his child had made. As soon as the child whimpered and yanked at his leg, Din tilted his head down to give him his attention. Seeing that he had his father’s attention, the child waddled to a corner of the ship and pointed.

Looking in that direction, Din’s heart softened. He was staring at a crude crayon drawing of himself with his son next to him, hand-in-hand. Din sighed, no longer knowing how to feel. He was upset, even angry, that his child had drawn all over the ship. He would never have yelled at the child, but he was still unhappy. Even if the child was still young and may not have known any better, he had never done anything like this before.

Kneeling down to his son’s level, Din began, “This drawing of us is very nice, but you should have drawn it on the paper I bought instead of the walls. You also shouldn’t have drawn all over the walls because now I have to clean it all up. This behavior is unacceptable and from now on, you won’t be allowed to use your art supplies unless I’m with you. I’m a little upset right now, but I’m not going to yell at you.” Din’s tone of voice was firm and stern because he was still unsure how to discipline a usually well-behaved child.

The child lowered his head and made a noise of sadness as he realized that he had done something wrong. Slipping off his gloves, Din softly brushed a finger across his son’s cheek to show him that he still loved him. In return, the child rested his hand against his father’s knee in apology. Din sighed and picked his son’s hand up to run his thumb over it.

“Now the two of us need to start cleaning up your mess.” Din spoke, breaking the moment. The child babbled and kicked his feet out in response.

Din grabbed two rags and filled up a bucket with hot, soapy water. He knew that he would do most of the work, but he wanted the child to see that when you did something wrong, you had to do something to help fix it.

Dunking one of the rags in the water, Din handed it to the child and directed, “You’re going to start cleaning the paint because it’s still wet and should come off the easiest.” The child cooed and began smearing the wet rag against the paint. As Din thought, the paint came away with minimal effort.

Turning to the crayon art, Din began to scrub away at the colorful wax. With the heat of the water, the soap, and elbow grease, the crayon began to gradually disappear. Din sighed in relief, happy that his ship wasn’t going to be a permanent piece of art.

He was nearly done cleaning when he found himself in the corner where the drawing his son had made of the two of them was. Din paused, rag inches away from the drawing. At his side, he heard a coo as the child stepped forward to place his hand against the drawing of Din. Mimicking his son’s action, Din reached forward to rest his hand against the picture of his son. Seeing how much the child liked it and knowing how much Din himself loved it, he decided to leave the drawing in the ship. It was tucked away in a corner, so it would be easy to miss if anyone else was ever on the ship and it could also easily be covered up.

Taking a look around, the rest of the ship was clean of all remnants of the child’s fun. Picking him up in his arms, Din asked, “How about I show you how to properly use your art supplies? That sound like fun, little one?” The child babbled and rested his head against his father’s chest as he was carried.

Sitting on the floor next to the bag of art supplies, Din ripped out two sheets of paper and grabbed the crayons that littered the floor.

“I have an idea,” Din spoke, “How about I try drawing you and you try drawing me?” The child let out a high pitched squeal and clapped his hands together in delight. Grabbing the green and brown crayons, Din got to work. Din was never artistic, even as a child, but he didn’t think it mattered how good or bad his drawing skills were because it was the thought behind the drawing that mattered.

Looking up from his drawing to peek at his son, he had his tongue sticking out of his mouth and his face scrunched up in concentration. The crayon wobbled in his three-fingered hand, but he was clearly doing his best to draw his father. Din laughed at the sight and returned to his drawing.

After about a minute, the child let out a noise of excitement and held up his drawing with pride. The drawing was mostly scribbles of brown and grey that made up his body, but Din’s helmet had clearly had a lot of thought put into it.

Reaching forward to grab the drawing from his child, Din lovingly said, “Wow, this is great. You did an excellent job drawing me.” Pleased with his father’s approval, the child dashed forward and rested his head in his father’s hand.

“My drawing isn’t nearly as good as yours,” Din mumbled, showing the child the mostly green and brown drawing. The child grabbed the drawing of himself from his father’s hand before crushing it to his body in a tight hug. He babbled before running off to his mythosaur toy to show it the drawing.

Holding his son’s drawing in one hand and taking one more look at the father-son drawing in the corner of his ship, Din’s heart was content.

#The Mandalorian #Baby Yoda #Din Djarin #Fluff #Din loves his baby boy #Baby Yoda loves his dad #Baby's First series #my writing

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petitprincess1 · 5 years

Text

How To Torture Your Heroes

Summary: Demencia and Clem teach the gross cockroaches of the world how to properly obtain and torture your enemy better than some nerdboy could!

Words: 2,454

Characters: Demencia, Flug, Clemencia, and Black Hat (briefly)

Warnings: A bit of torture, but nothing too bad.

I had too much fun with this

Demencia sat at the metallic table with her arms crossed and glaring at the shaking Cam-Bot and Flug, who was clearly smirking underneath his bag. She just narrowed her eyes at him, while, at the same time, erratic noises and lights that were going on beside her. She then slowly glanced over to her side at seeing Clemencia strapped up in a chair, wrapped in a straitjacket, and her mouth covered by a mask. The unicorn witch was currently vibrating in the chair, hearts in her eyes changing various of colors, and her powers were sparking from her horn. She was also making many high-pitched squeaking sounds and they only became louder the moment Dem’s eyes were on her.

Demencia’s stare went back to Flug, who was setting up Cam-Bot and ordering, “Alright, remember that Black Hat wants you to do this. Honestly, I wouldn’t care and the only commercials I would have you do is one for rabies vaccinations or one where we send you off to space.”

Flug was expecting Demencia to make a “witty” comeback like her becoming queen of the moon-people or something that idiotically implausible, but she just kept glaring at him. He just rolled his eyes and then looked as Cam-Bot’s recording light come on, saying, while holding up cards for her to speak off of, “Okay, Cam-Bot is recording. Go, Demencia.”

Demencia narrowed her eyes further at him before speaking in an even, annoyed tone, “Welcome, you bottom feeders, are you sick and tired of using the same old methods to capture and torture heroes? Do they always get away from your clutches? Always stealing your shit-” “Demencia, stick to the cards.” “Ugh! Always stealing your equipment,” she mocked in an obnoxiously nerdy voice by plugging her nose and then continued, “and leaving a mess everywhere? Then, fear not, for- this is so fucking stupid! Couldn’t you at least have tried to make the script sound like me, instead of your disgusting, lameass nerd language!?”

Flug pinched at where the bridge of his nose would be and then spoke in a professional manner, “You know, I really did try to, Demencia. However, you must understand that it is quite difficult to translate caveman speak to our natural, everyday colloquialism.”

Dem slammed her hands down on the table and shouted at him, “Say that to my face, punching bag!”

“You’re literally a few feet in front of me! How is this not saying it to your fa-” “Because it isn’t, chicken shit! If you were brave enough, you would say it right here, instead of-” The two began bickering over one another. Flug giving out the most intellectual disses the world has ever known, while Demencia resorted to “colorful” language, gory descriptions of Flug’s demise, and the occasional, never defeated “bleh bleh bleh” method.

Meanwhile, Clem watched the two fight amongst one another like a child watching their parents argue. She casually shimmied out of her straitjacket, unbuckled the straps, and took off the mask. Skipping over to Flug, she looked down at the cards in his hands and asked, “Can I see those?”

“Yeah, sure,” Flug said absentmindedly, as he just went back to quarreling with Demencia like the goof that he is. Clemencia just went back to her seat and sat down, reading over the cue cards. Cam-Bot turned off its recording for a few seconds to look in-between the two villains and shook its ‘head’, wondering how it hasn’t short-circuited from all this madness. The only thing that was able to break them out of their squabble was Clemencia shouting, “Whaaaaaat!? Dangle them over hydrochloric acid? Painful injections? Lead them to you with what they love? What is this absolute crap? I thought you were supposed to be the best in the business, Flug!”

Flug immediately put a hand to his chest, feeling absolutely offended, while Demencia snatched at the cards and started reading them over. The scientist shouted, “Okay, listen here you randomly generated Tumblr OC, I don’t need someone like you telling me that-”

“I'm gonna stop you right there because you clearly do! None of this would truly work! It's, dare I say, old hat! I mean, who dangles people over acid anymore?” Clemencia asked, while Demencia finished reading and winced, “As much as I hate to agree with sparkles over here, I think she's got a point.”

Flug crossed his arms, scoffing and sputtering, before taking a deep breath and giving in, “You know what? Fine! I'll let you both take over, see how well you do, but I'm not gonna be responsible for how Black Hat reacts!”

The two multicolored women weren't even listening to him, as the two were writing down suggestions and even making some pictures on their garbage writ- er…“script”. Clemencia then pulled down a large, long projection screen out of nowhere and the two hid behind the screen. Clem whispered, “Aaaaaaaannnndddd...action!”

Cam-Bot just shook its head and then rewound the footage before starting it back up again. Suddenly, an image of a half lizard and half unicorn skull crying out rainbows in front of heart that had nails all over it appeared on the screen. The two magically poofed in front of the screen. Demencia was holding a bloodied baseball bat that had nails all over it and Clemencia held a pink and gold axe that had hearts within the blade and pink bows along the handle. Flug groaned, as he sat down with a mug in his hand that...possibly held coffee, “Oh boy.”

Demencia greeted, “Welcome, you gross boils of the underworld, it's your ruthless, badass Demencia to teach you scrubs about how to truly capture and torture your victims, whether they be a hero or a disgusting, useless, sidekick, nerdboy!”

Flug gave loud sigh, but didn't say anything. The lizard woman pointed to Clemencia and introduced, “And who better to check over such methods than with- Gah!”

Clemencia suddenly brought her into a spine-crushing hug and lifted her off of the ground, exclaiming, “Than with her no-as-equally-but-pretty-dang-close-at-least-hope-so-or-I’ll-cry-in-the-tub-again-tonight gorgeous girlfriend, Clemencia!”

Dem growled, as she hit her over head with the bat, “I'm not your girlfriend, dumb broad!”

Each hit that she made just made a squeaky toy noise. Flug blinked at the both of them and then cleared his throat. The two stared at him before going back to their normal poses and Dem went on like nothing happened, “Than with this horrible excuse of a hero over here!”

The unicorn witch smiled and giggled, while her horn made random sparks of pink magic. The screen then changed while Dem continued, “Now, some idiots would give you stupid little ideas that you can lead your victim by using things that they love,” a drawing of Clemencia had her being led to a trap by a Demencia doll on a string, “or being hung over acid,” another image of Clem being hung over acid that she just changed into jello with a confused, smelly Flug, “or, even lamer, with injections,” and then the final was another Flug with the words “gross nerd” over his head poking a confused hero in the eye with a syringe.

Clemencia then quickly added in, “Well, I never thought they were lame or anything, just that I know you can do it a bit better with that big boy brain of yours, Fluggy~!”

Flug corrected, “That’s Dr. Flug Slys to you.”

“Ya got it, Flug-bug!” Clemencia smiled with a cute little wink afterwards, making Flug just take bigger gulps of his “coffee”. Demencia put a finger to her mouth, fake gagging, and asked in an annoyed tone, “Are you two done being weird?”

Clem mumbled, looking slightly concerned, “...I-I was being…” and then a fully forced smile came across her face and she said cheerfully, “Yes, I am, my wonderful savior! ...Um,” she then levitated Flug’s mug to herself, grabbed it, and then tossed it right into his face with a blank expression. The mug spilt all over Flug upon impact and he fell back with a loud thud, shouting, “WHYYYYY!?”

Demencia blinked at the whole and then went back to the commercial, “Anyway, a little help from Dem and Clem will get your ass back in line with these three easy options! Number one: Don’t go for all that complicated garbage! Your own body should be plenty to attract those dumb heroes.”

The image on the screen changed to a drawing of a hero cornering Demencia in an alleyway, while she was wearing chainmail armor lingerie that had a the Black Hat logo on her panties. Clemencia’s eyes turned into hearts, despite one of them twitching at the “dumb heroes” comment, and added in, “Which should be plenty easy, if you’re as sexy as Demencia! However, if you’re not- which a good majority of you aren’t -then this second option is for you! Number two: As much as we heroes love kicking your butts from here to Atreno City,” a Clem drawing had her kicking villains, while they’re curled up on the ground, like Flamme, Mother Poltergeist, Mawrasite, and, of course, Flug, “there’s nothing we love more than peaceful agreements.”

Next was a copy-and-pasted picture of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, but they had a bunch of villains’ and heroes’ faces drawn poorly over all the political figures’ faces with Clem and Dem sharing Thomas Jefferson’s face. The actual document was scribbled with Demencia’s crayon and Clemencia’s sparkly marker writing that read: “Blah blah blah,” “Dem for president,” “Clem was here <3,” and a signature “Flug the virgin.” Clemencia went on, “However, we also have a high sense of smell to know when there's bullshit afoot, so try to at least seem a bit more genuine than what you’re actually doing,” a picture of an annoyed Vanity appeared at a dinner table with Dark Phantom in a suit, who was looking extremely nervous and holding a ray gun behind his back.

Demencia then said, “And, finally, the torture! The fun part! Now that you’ve clearly used the first method to capture your foe because the second one is for complete morons-”

Clemencia shifted on her and chuckled nervously, “Heehee...right…”

The lizard hybrid then went on, “The best way that you can torture your hero is by causing them the slowest amount of pain possible and that their screams are filling your entire lair!”

The image on the screen showed a hero tied up to a chair, looking absolutely terrified, while Demencia was doing various tactics on them like using thumb-screws to drill through their fingers, using a red hot iron rod to brand their skin, or reading bad fanfiction. All the while the hero seemed to be in extreme anguish. Demencia then added, “However, if the hero is somehow resilient, you can also do the same to the sidekick or family,” the drawings changed to her doing the same to those people, instead of the hero.

“Whichever one you do, the hero should be able to do whatever you wish after a whole 24 hours of torture, but if you’re as good as me, you’ll have it done in less than 30 minutes. Heroes are absolutely traumatized afterwards though, so make sure to throw them out afterwards,” drawing Dem was throwing the hero into the incinerator, “Although, that may be hard because most heroes are stupid and useless already to begin with. Right, Clemencia? ….Right!?”

…

Dem growled as she sharply turned to her, only to stop at seeing Clem holding onto herself and also shivering. Clemencia started tearing up and she stuttered, “I-I’m...I’m n-not useless….o-or….stupid...r-right?”

The lizard hybrid just bit her lip and looked away, causing Clem to whimper and then teleport out of there. Right as soon as she did, Flug came back into the lab, holding a cloth covered ice pack on his bagged face, and asked, looking around, “Hey, where did the poster child for insulin shots go to?”

He then noticed Demencia looking somewhat saddened and guilty, as if she made a mistake. Flug was about to reach out to her and ask if she was alright, but then suddenly the projector caught alight by red flames, as Black Hat rose from the flames. His eye completely black with a red, slitted pupil and his form shifting and changing as eyes, mouths, and tentacles appeared. The tentacles squeezed around the two, strangling them, and Cam-Bot quickly ran out out of there before it got taken. Black snarled at the two, “What is going on here!?”

Demencia made a stupid comment about Black Hat always taking her breath away, while Flug made his famous dying seal squeaks.

At White Hat’s manor, as the moon was rising, Clemencia hung half her torso off of the balcony connected to her room, sighing at all that Demencia said and wondering where exactly she went wrong. She messed with the bow on her ponytail, while her unicorn hoodie’s eyes started tearing up. She mumbled to herself, “Maybe I’m just too bubbly at times...and I doubt myself too much...and...I eat too much cake! Ugh! I need to change my ways! I need to get tough and more wild like Demmie!”

She then lifted up her body back up to the top and the moment that she did, she felt lips press against her cheek, as well as catching the scent of roses, spray paint, and raw meat. Clem summoned a large mallet and shouted, “How dare you steal Demencia’s scent!?”

She then looked around and saw nobody there, but did see a note placed onto the railing of the balcony. She tilted her head as she placed the mallet back into her hair and grabbed onto the note to see what it said: “I wasn’t talking about you being useless or anything like that, dum-dum! You’re pretty...alright. I just gotta keep up an image, ya know? Now stop being so emotional or else I’ll have to cuddle you! >:3c”

Clemencia blinked at the letter before her eyes turned into hearts and a dopey smile grew across her face, while hugging the paper close to her chest. Yeah, it wasn’t anything all that poetic, but it was absolutely beautiful in her eyes. She then looked down at at her balcony and noticed some red and green paint that was on the railing of where the note was. She turned the note around and saw red and green painted words that read: “By the way, got ya a surprise! Turn around!”

The unicorn witch spun around with a bright smile and saw a bomb with “Dem waz here” spray-painted onto it, making Clem coo, “Awwww, Demmie!!!”

I’ll probably make some fanfic about the other two...uh...*looks at hand* Shite Bat and Plug

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cutesuki-bakugouinactive · 6 years

Note

I thoight it would be funny is maybe Bakugo’s s/o and Deku had a play date and when Bakugo walks in on their two kids (Deku’s boys and Bakugo’s girl) are hugging and pretending to be husband and wife XD and Deku’s talking to his wife about what Bakugo was like when he younger

I love him as a dad, can you tell lol

Thanks for the request, I hope you like it!

Bakugou stood outside of the door to his daughter’s playroom, glaring at the door as he listened to the voices inside. He couldn’t believe that his wife had invited Midoriya of all people over, that idiot even still irritating him into adulthood. Sure, they got along better now, but Bakugou still saw him as mainly a business rival and not someone who should be sitting in his house drinking tea with his wife. Even though the whole reason wasn’t for them to chat, but instead let their children play together, which was something he had begrudgingly agreed to. One, because his wife didn’t give him much of an option. And two, because his daughter truly had become close to Midoriya’s son, having been going to the same elementary school.

At first, Bakugou had been content to let his wife sit with Midoriya in the playroom, allowing their children to play together. But now, after hearing his wife laughing so hard he was sure she almost passed out, he had grown curious. What if Midoriya was telling her embarrassing shit about him from his childhood and they were making fun of him together? He had to know. On top of that, he wanted to see how their kids were interacting together. That would be just my luck, he thought. My baby girl falling in love with his brat. Then we’d be related- ugh, I hate the thought! Effectively disgusted, he opened the door, eyes immediately landing on his wife, who was giggling. Though, as he came in, the two stopped, looking up at him with surprise.

“Ah, Katsuki? I thought you didn’t want to join us?” His wife peered up at him, and he found both adults looked ridiculous sitting in the small brightly colored children’s chairs, the tea set resting on the white table that was covered in crayon scribbles. Midoriya smiled, standing as Bakugou approached them. “Kacchan! It’s good to see you outside of work.” Bakugou glared at him, not removing his hands from his pockets, even as Midoriya reached a hand out in greeting. “Shut up, Deku, stop acting like we’re friends.” Midoriya chuckled, waving his hand in the air a bit, not discouraged at being left hanging like that. “Oh right, we’re just business rivals, I forgot. Want some tea?”

“No.” Bakugou huffed as he made his way to a pink bean bag that was beside his wife, flopping down into it. His glare moved to his wife as she giggled again softly, looking up Midoriya as he sat back down. “He’s just grumpy, please ignore him.” Midoriya nodded, stretching out his legs instead of keeping them uncomfortably bent. “Ah, I’m used to it! You’re lucky you met him after school.” Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest as his wife giggled. “Oh, he was a pain then, too?” Midoriya had a sly grin on his face, obviously enjoying getting the chance to rat on Bakugou like this without fear. “Oh yeah, just a million times worse-”

“Both of you need to shut up!” Bakugou barked, just about ready to blow Midoriya through the wall. Before he could, his attention was pulled in front of him as a tiny figure ran up between his legs, holding her arms open to him. “Daddy! You came in!” Bakugou sighed internally as he calmed, sitting up to scoop his daughter into his arms. “Hey, baby. Of course I did, I told you I would.” He sat her on his thigh, taking a second to fix her hair as it was falling out of the ponytail he had helped her with this morning. She smiled, kicking her legs as she let him. “I’m so glad, Daddy. I’m having so much fun.”

He felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips, always finding her exaggerated, loving way of speaking to be adorable. Though, his attention was pulled from her as her playmate approached, arms crossed over his chest as he tried to look big and though with his curly green hair and freckles that perfectly matched his father’s. “Hey! That’s my wife!” Bakugou felt irritation twinge within him, especially as his own wife began to giggle. “Excuse me?”

A small hand was suddenly shoved in his face, displaying a ring made of yellow playdough on his daughter’s left ring finger. “Look Daddy! I’m married! It looks just like Mommy’s ring! Isn’t it sooo beautiful!” The laughter of the two adults beside him grew more intense, listening as they sputtered and tried to muffle their cackles. He knew they were laughing at the look on his face, his eyebrows furrowing in bewilderment as he gazed upon the makeshift ring. “Married… huh…?”

His daughter held her hand back to herself, hugging it against her chest as she smiled wide, cheeks bright pink. “Yes! I’m so happy, he’s going to love me forever!” Bakugou’s gaze moved down to the boy in front of them, who was still trying to look tough and prideful. Bakugou placed one hand on his daughters back, leaning forward a bit as he glowered down at the young boy. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to ask her father first for permission?” The child’s gaze grew confused, looking over to his father before back up at Bakugou. “Huh? Do I really?” Bakugou nodded, pointing down to the floor. “You get on your knees and bow all the way down to the floor and ask for his blessing. I had to.”

“Katsuki…” He glanced at his wife as she spoke his name, in both a scolding and touched tone, like she wanted to yell at him but was also moved by his words. The young boy fidgeted in his spot, looking up at his father again for guidance. “Is that true, Dad?” Midoriya nodded, smile on his face. “Yep. I had to do that for your mother, too.” Within seconds, the child was on his knees, bent over with his arms straight out in front of him. “Mr. Baku- uh, Bakugou-” he stuttered with the name for a moment, though Bakugou stayed silent, waiting to see what he was going to say.

“Can I please marry your daughter, pretty please? She’s really cute, and she doesn’t get grossed out when I eat bugs! Please!”

Bakugou scoffed, looking at his daughter to see her reaction. She seemed love struck, her eyes teary and cheeks bright red as she stared down at her friend in awe of his confession. Damn it. I can’t stop it, I guess. It’s what I worried about… Stupid fairytale bullshit of childhood friends falling in love when they’re older. I hate this, but… she’s all happy about it. He looked back down at the boy on the floor, catching him peeking up behind his hair before he shoved his face back into the ground.

“On one condition,” Bakugou started, watching the boy as he sat up. “You can’t eat anymore bugs.” The boys eyes widened a bit. “Wha? But that’s the only thing that makes me cool at school-” he stopped as Bakugou narrowed his eyes at him, quickly bowing back down. “Y-yes sir!” Bakugou patted his daughters back, actually dreading the day he would have to give her away for real. “And you can’t kiss until you’re twenty-five.”

Giggling, his daughter hopped off his leg. “Daddy, kissing is gross! You don’t have to kiss when you’re married.” Bakugou’s gaze was pulled to his wife as she giggled, her face flushed as she smiled at him. He felt his own ears grow hot, looking away as his daughter ran off to play with the young boy. Midoriya sighed, leaning back in the chair a bit. “Nice rules, Kacchan. I approve.”

“Shut up Deku, before I knock out all your teeth.”

#bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha writing blog #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou scenarios #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #cutesuki scenarios #request #fluff

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peachiefics · 6 years

Text

Book Club

Pairing: Librarian!Joshua x OC

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3,147

Synopsis: A summer book club between a librarian and the most interesting girl he’s ever met may be exactly the kind of inspiration he needs to finish his novel.

Author’s Note: Happy birthday to my favorite little Sweet Potato!

Joshua had always been a particularly imaginative boy. Reading became his first love at a very young age, and shortly after, his love affair with writing began. As he grew into adulthood, he honed his skill diligently, always eager to read something new that might spark his imagination in a way it hadn’t been before. So, when he got a job at the local library, he felt like he was in Heaven. Years passed, and his mental repertoire only grew larger. But despite the vast number of stories he had collected by the time he reached age twenty-two, he never could’ve imagined falling for her.

She was a walking disaster. A five-foot-five tornado of a girl who brought with her a hectic sense of calm wherever she went. A contradiction, he was sure, but somehow, it just made sense to him in the most confusing yet intriguing way. He remembers the first time he saw her stumble into the library like it was yesterday.

He sat at the front desk, head propped on his left hand as he held open his newest read with the right. The pitter patter of rain against the windows kept him company as he sat in the empty building. His ears perked up at the sound of the bell on the front door ringing lightly. Glancing towards it, he noticed a girl, around his age, who had been drenched to the bone. She waddled over, her baggy clothes, now soaked, weighing her down a bit.

“Uh, hi,” he hesitated.

Raising her hand to lift the endearing mess of auburn curls away from her eyes, she smiled brightly at the clerk. “Hi, there!” she chirped.

Joshua took note of her features. They were a little rough, but adorable all the same. Golden taupe skin littered with terra cotta freckles and adorned by rosy cheeks whose color spread across her wideset button nose. “How can I help you today?” he asked, setting his book down.

She parted her slightly chapped lips to reply, “I’m here to return a book, actually.”

“In this weather? I admire your dedication,” he chuckled.

“Well, you see, my last three returns were tardy, and I really can’t afford another late fee,” she rambled, hand busy searching for the novel hidden somewhere at the bottom of her seemingly bottomless bag.

“Yeah, those fees do start to add u-”

“Found it!” she exclaimed, pulling it out victoriously, before quickly reaching up to cover her mouth in embarrassment. “Sorry,” she giggled nervously.

The corner of Joshua’s mouth twitched upward in something of a smile at the sound. It seemed as though the almost childlike innocence about her went beyond the pleasant roundness of her face. “It’s fine. The place is empty; has been all day,” he shrugged, taking the book and opening it to process the card in the back. He gave a quiet ‘thank you’ when she handed over her library card unprompted.

When he looked up from the computer, she was gone, but noticing the trail of water on the floor, he figured she had just gone to the back section to pick out another book. A few moments later, she returned with a stack of books that piled up above her nose.

“Quite the avid reader, aren’t you?” he laughed lightly. The same melodic sound left her throat as he watched the corners of her eyes crinkle from the smile that he couldn’t see but knew was there. She placed the books on the counter and he began to process all of them. He stopped at one particular book and smiled brightly. “Starry-Eyed. I loved this one.”

“Really? It was a good one?” she inquired, resting an elbow on the wooden countertop.

“It was amazing! It’s just…nevermind. Sorry,” he cut himself short.

“No, what is it?!”

“I just don’t want to spoil the ending for you!” he laughed.

“No such thing! Besides, I usually read the end first, anyway.” The confused expression that crossed his face prompted her to explain. “Knowing the end makes connecting the dots more fun! Besides, studies show that it makes reading more enjoyable. It’s science.”

“Well, can’t argue with science. Anthony dies in the end before he can confess his love to Julia, and that apparently upsets most of the people who read this, but I won’t tell you how he dies. You’ll just have to find that out on your own.”

“Fair enough. And I’ll come back and give you a full book report on it,” she joked. “I’m Maggy, by the way.”

The dark-haired librarian felt a grin stretch across his face as he replied, “Joshua.”

Two days later, the door forcefully swung open, the bell’s excessive ringing catching Joshua’s attention. His lips curved into a smile as his eyes landed on the auburn bush that was moving towards the counter.

“This is bullshit!” she exclaimed, placing the book in front of him. Crossing his arms in amusement, he let her continue. “He totally could’ve confessed to her if he just put his pride aside and then they would’ve lived happily ever after!”

“But where’s the fun in that?” he chuckled.

“The happily ever after is the fun part, you heartless pessimist!”

“I like to think that I’m more of a realist,” he explained nonchalantly, resting his chin in his hand as he leaned over the desk. She frowned at his response, her slight pout making her seem even cuter to him. “So, on a scale of one to ten, how much did you love the book?” he asked in a knowing tone.

“Eleven,” she sighed, resting her chin in her hand in a similarly relaxed fashion.

And that’s how their two-person book club began. He would start from the beginning. And she would start from the end. And they would meet somewhere in between. And somewhere in between the time they first met and the time she kissed him goodbye, he knew he had fallen in love with her. But we haven’t quite gotten there yet.

He can’t recall the exact moment that it happened for the life of him. Years later they’ll argue about it over glasses of champagne with their closest friends admiring their playful banter. But again, we haven’t quite gotten there yet. At this present moment, he has three guesses.

The first is Children’s Day at the library. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched her sitting among the children on the floor, pretzel style, reading to them with excitement as she put on funny voices. They stared at her in awe and adoration, and to be completely honest, so did he.

As he was putting some books away in the kid’s section a few moments later, he noticed a little boy tug on her arm. Once the children dispersed to find new books to take home, she followed him to a nearby shelf. She leaned down for him to whisper something in her ear before smiling and standing upright again.

“This one?” she asked, pointing to a book on the top shelf.

He nodded with a bright grin and she reached up to grab it, having to stand on her toes in order to do so. Handing him the book, she giggled when he wrapped his arms around her legs to thank her in the form of a hug.

“You’re staring,” a tiny voice called out to Joshua from a few feet away.

The sound startled him, though he’d never admit to being frightened by a five-year-old. “What? I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” he replied nervously, having trouble meeting the precocious little girl’s gaze. She was a regular there, so he remembered seeing her often.

“I’m little, but I’m still smart. You like her; it’s ovbious!” she exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips as she mispronounced the word.

He quickly shushed her, frantically placing a finger over his own mouth. “We’re in a library, remember?”

She rolled her eyes and leaned forward to whisper, though it was still rather loud, “You like her!”

Joshua’s hand flew to his forehead, his face burning in embarrassment. Was it weird that maybe he did kind of like her? Was it weird that it was apparently so obvious, a child could pick up on it? “Oh my god…. Okay, look, if you just run along and forget this, I’ll forget your last late book return, so that you can pick out a new one today.”

The pigtailed nuisance pondered the thought for a moment before replying with a nod. “Deal.”

“Great, now go pick your book and get outta here, okay?” he smiled in relief.

“You got it, Mr. Book Man!”

About an hour later, Children’s Day came to an end and Joshua had finally processed the last of the nosy little girl’s books. As Maggy approached the front desk, the child looked up at Joshua and winked as best she could before running off and exiting the library. He found the gesture peculiar but assumed that it was in reference to their little agreement.

“Hey, Josh?” his curly haired friend asked, a sly smile prominent on her face.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna explain why that little girl gave this to me?,” she giggled, reaching over the desk to hand him a folded piece of paper covered in crayon.

He deadpanned, silently taking the note and opening it, his expression changing to one of horror as he scanned the crudely written letters.

‘DO YOU LIKE MR. BOOK MAN? CURCLE YES OR NO’

“That little-” He felt more embarrassed than angry, but before he could finish his statement, she took the note back and grabbed a nearby pen. He watched her in confusion as she scribbled something on it and handed it back. Looking at her with a raised eyebrow prompted her to nod towards the note in his hand.

“Open it.”

He did so and couldn’t help but laugh.

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t say it first, but getting a five-year-old to do your bidding? That’s a bold move, Mr. Book Man,” she smirked.

“She, uh…She took the initiative on that… But I’m glad the feeling is mutual,” he smiled.

Perhaps Joshua fell for Maggy when she read the first draft of his first novel. It wasn’t finished at the time, so unfortunately for her, she had to start from the beginning.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you read this,” he muttered, watching her eyes dart across the screen of his laptop. Shifting uncomfortably, he leaned against the headboard of his bed and let his eyes drift to the beige wallpaper across the room. “It’s so embarrassing.”

With a sigh, she set down the laptop and closed it, turning to face him and crossing her legs. “Want me to tell you something embarrassing about myself to make things even?” Noticing him nod, she picked up a tasseled pillow and played with the fringe on the edges. “You may not have noticed, but I happen to be very uncoordinated.”

Without meaning to, Joshua let out a snort. Looking down ad her band-aid-clad legs, he laughed. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

With a scowl that wrinkled her nose in the least intimidating way, she threw the pillow at him, though he managed to catch it.

“You gotta gimmie something better than that.”

“Fine,” she hesitated. “My middle name is Beatrice.”

“…Beatrice?”

“Yes, Margret Beatrice Johnson. Don’t you dare laugh.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, to keep a smile from forming. “It’s very…refined.”

“Yeah, yeah. Your turn,” she murmured, moving to sit next to him against the headboard.

“I guess we’re going back and forth then, huh?” he chuckled. She nodded in response and he let out a long sigh. “Alright, uhhhhhh….Well, I don’t know if you could consider this to be embarrassing per se, but before our first date, I hadn’t been on one in over a year.”

“Any particular reason?” she asked, turning to look at him.

“I guess no one piqued my interest,” he answered, meeting her gaze.

“I suppose I can take that as a compliment,” she smiled proudly.

“I’d say you could,” he grinned. “You are by far the most…interesting girl I’ve ever met,” he added.

She rolled her eyes in response before an idea seemed to strike her. “Well, that explains the weird disconnect between the love interests in your novel; no offense.”

“None taken. I’m admittedly out of practice, which leaves me with a rather foggy point of reference,” he shrugged.

She bit her plump bottom lip lightly, a nervous habit he picked up on a few weeks prior. Eyes leaving his, she let her hand find his. “Well, now you have me,” she said in a soft tone, fingers toying with his slightly larger ones. “If anything, at least for research purposes,” she added on with a slight laugh to soften the impact.

Locking his fingers with hers, he replied, “And I think you’ll be the perfect muse.”

As she looked up, she was met with lidded eyes and fresh mint. Just as their lips were mere centimeters apart, she pulled away. “Josh, I’m leaving in a few weeks.”

Eyebrows now raised, he couldn’t help but utter, “Well, I definitely pictured that going differently.” Releasing her hand and running his own through his hair, he let out a breath he was unaware he had been holding. “Leaving?”

“I got a job offer out of state that starts in September, and I just know that long distance isn’t for everyone, not that I wouldn’t be willing to try; it’s just that there are so many girls here who’d love a chance to be with you a-” her rambling was silenced by Joshua’s lips.

“Josh…I can’t help but think that this is a bad idea, because we both know how this kind of thing ends,” she almost whispered as they pulled away.

The corner of his mouth curved upward, and he pressed his forehead against hers. “Well, a very interesting girl once told me that knowing the end makes connecting the dots more fun…It’s science,” he chortled.

“Well, can’t argue with science,” she giggled. Leaning back to rest her weight on her palm, she tilted her head to the side and asked, “Do the couple in your story get a happy ending?”

With a gentle hand under her chin, he leaned closer and gave an unsure smile. “I really hope so.”

Or maybe he realized he loved her the day he had to let her go.

Joshua hastily made his way through the crowded the airport, knowing that her flight would be leaving soon. Shrugging his messenger bag onto his shoulder, he looked around, searching for her auburn mess of curls.

“Josh, over here!” she called out to him from the food court. A grin stretched across his face as he walked over, taking in her figure, dressed in that one sweatshirt he hadn’t been able to find for the life of him. “Well, don’t you look snazzy,” she giggled, gesturing at his neatly tucked button-down and tie.

“Thanks. I uh—I wanted you to remember me as well-dressed,” he blushed lightly.

“Josh, I’m moving, not dying,�� she replied, taking a sip of her Slurpee. Without a second thought, she held it out to him to offer some. “Want some?”

“No thanks,” he politely declined. “And I know,” he added with a nervous laugh, hand darting to the back of his neck. “I just wanted to look nice for you.”

That was enough to make her heart melt faster than the frozen drink in her hand. Years from now she’ll swoon over how thoughtful he always was, noting that this was the very moment she had fallen for him.

She wordlessly wrapped a gentle hand around his tie and tugged him into a chilly, chaste kiss. “You’re adorable; you know that?”

“Says the five-foot klutz with a million freckles,” he teased. Just as he was about to get lost in another kiss, he remembered the weight in his bag and pulled away. “Oh, I have something for you!”

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know, but I wanted to,” he shrugged before opening the bag and pulling out a book. Watching her eyes light up as he handed it to her made him smile uncontrollably.

“Starry-Eyed,” she read the cover with a bright grin and burning cheeks. “Our first book.”

“And in this entire galaxy that exceeds my foggiest notion of existence,” he began, waiting for her to finish the quote.

“There is no place I would rather be than lost within the depths of my lover’s starry-eyed gaze. Thank you so much, Joshua. I love it.” Before she could pull him into a hug, he stopped her.

“One more thing,” he explained, reaching into the bag again as she placed her drink on a nearby table.

“Flight 29 D now boarding,” the stoic voice over the airport’s system informed, grabbing their attention.

Joshua quickly pulled out a stapled stack of paper and gave it to her. “I want you to be the first to read it.”

“Your manuscript?” She exclaimed, scanning the front with his name and the title boldly written. “I can’t wait to read this on the plane.”

“Well, I want you to read the last sentence on the last page right now...So I can see your face when you do.”

She looked at him for a second, eyebrow raised in suspicion, when the airport employee spoke again. “Flight 29 D now boarding.”

“Please, it’ll only take a second,” Joshua ask, lightly touching Maggy’s arm.

She nodded and flipped to the last page, eyes skimming downward.

‘In that moment, the uncertainties were as numerous as the terra cotta freckles adorning her cherub cheeks, but he found solace in being certain that his love for her was just as limitless.’

Her eyes met his again, and for the first time since they had met, she was speechless.

“I-I don’t know when it happened; I just know that it did…I love you… Margret Beatrice Johnson,” he breathed, tone changing from one of unsure hesitance to one of pure admiration.

She haphazardly threw her arms over his shoulders, taking him by surprise as she pulled him into a hug. “I love you, too, Josh.”

“Oh, thank God,” he sighed in relief. “Otherwise the ride home would’ve really sucked,” he laughed, pulling back to kiss her again.

“Flight 29 D now boarding.”

She begrudgingly parted from him and gave a sad smile. “I’ll call you as soon as we land.”

“You better,” he smiled back, kissing her forehead.

And with that, she grabbed her things and went off to board her flight, but not before giving him one last wave goodbye. He waved back and pulled his messenger bag back on, comforted by the fact that he knew this wasn’t the end of their love story.

It was only the beginning.

#joshua #joshua hong #seventeen #joshua seventeen #svt #kpop #kpop fanfiction #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #joshua fluff #black kpop fans #fluff #kpop fluff #seventeen joshua

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a-robin-among-thorns · 7 years

Text

Too Old For Your Age

Part 1: Colors

Contains minor spoilers from the manga.

This is the first of the drabbles (although it ended up much longer than I would have thought) I have planned based on this post I made a while back. The tone and content ended up slightly different from that of the original post but I believe I’m mostly happy with how it came out. I can’t really make any promises on when the next one will come but I will try my best.

Word Count: 2,871

“Did you have any fun at Ethan’s party?” Chise asked hopefully as she and Elias entered in the front door.

She was somewhat afraid of what his answer might be. Although they had obviously been present for the party, Ethan’s 11th birthday had provided a prime education opportunity for the human teacher and her oblivious pupil. Elias had in time and practice grown more aware of his own feelings of jealousy and how to act appropriately when they sprung, but he was still no master. He shrugged off his robe and glanced down at his party favor bag sporting a picture of a man in a blue and red costume. “I suppose so, although I can’t say I understood much of it.”

“That’s fine, there’s still a lot I didn’t understand either.” Chise said with a small shrug and a relieved smile.

She made her way to the living room and was about to rest on the couch when she found Elias’ gaze was lingering on her with the clear indication of curiosity etched across his features. She cocked her head in questioning, “What is it?”

“Did you have a good time?” he asked bluntly. Chise frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“You seemed…stiff during most of the party.” Chise was almost surprised he had noticed, but quickly thought better of it. Elias deserved a little more credit than she was giving him. He was growing more perceptive by the day, steadily coming into an ability to read her at the very least and other humans on infrequent occasion.

She thought for a moment. “I think had a good time…” it was true…mostly. When her attention wasn’t focused on the glamoured mage awkwardly meandering around the Barklem Home Chise had enjoyed talking to Stella and meeting a few of Ethan’s younger friends. However, she still had felt…distant. She initially had chocked the feeling up to the difference in age, although that had never before caused any rift between her and the Barklem siblings. Yet when she saw the children engaged in games and stories of colorful characters and playful frivolities, she was almost frustrated at her inability to join along. “I guess…I still don’t really know how friends or children are supposed to enjoy themselves.”

Elias took his turn to cock his head. “Why do you suppose that is?”

That…was a good question. Why indeed?

“I’m not sure…I guess I just I never got a chance to do anything children normally do. Even before…even when I was with my family I couldn’t go to school or play outside.” Her early life in Japan had slowly begun to bleed into her memory over the years. As she remembered more and more she realized that strangely enough her happy memories had been buried alongside the dark ones. Perhaps that was because those few bright moments were only bright in comparison. Anyone in a normal situation would call her earliest days of hiding indoors alongside her mother until her father could ward off hungry assailants terrifying rather than comforting. Not to say there were no truly bright moments. Brief minutes between hiding and running had yielded tumbling over park toys with her father or cooking with her mother. But even so, those few lights were hardly an equal for the seemingly endless night up until a fateful trip across the hemisphere.

Her grip tightened on her own party favor. “I didn’t have much of a childhood when I really think about it.” Why did this cause her heart to sink so much now?

Large gentle fingertips cupped her jaw tenderly urging her gaze upwards. “Did I upset you, Chise? I didn’t mean to pry into something you’d rather not think about.” He said with a hint of worry in his voice as he brushed his thumb across her cheek.

A wave of guilt washed over her. This outing was supposed to help Elias deal with his feelings of envy and here she was getting tangled up in her own. She placed her hand atop of his and made efforts to swallow the knot growing uncomfortably in her throat. It wouldn’t do for a teacher to lose composure in front of her student.

“You didn’t upset me, I just got a bit lost in thought.” Elias hummed in response clearly not convinced by her answer but respecting her desire not to divulge all at once.

The humming continued as he released her jaw placing his hand on his chin in contemplation. “Thinking about it, I don’t suppose I had much of one either.” He said in a somewhat uncertain tone.

“Really? Even when you were traveling with Lindel?” Mention of Echoes brought a grumble out Elias.

“Although that time was formative, I wouldn’t call it a proper childhood. It was mostly spent navigating a very harsh land with more than a few unpleasant encounters.” The hand on his chin slowly dropped to his chest as his eyes fixed on a pattern on the wall. “I wonder…maybe that has something to do with why neither of us could understand much of the party. I believe we may have missed something important in those years.” Although his tone remained neutral a slight wistfulness played on the edge of Elias’ eyes making something in Chise’s chest ache.

Something important…what was it that the other children had that she didn’t that made her so envious? Or maybe it was something they didn’t have? They didn’t have to worry about ravenous other-creatures eagerly waiting to find out if they tasted sweet or bitter. And because of that, they could roam play yards free of invisible assailants.

“If I had to guess I’d say you missed the chance to have fun free of worry. That’s the nice thing about being a kid really. Responsibilities and expectations don’t exist or at least not as great as they do in adulthood. They get to do things for the sake of enjoying them no matter how insignificant they may seem.”

Elias glanced upward in thought, cogs turning in his skull. “Let’s do that then.”

Chise raised an eyebrow “Do what?” “Those ‘insignificant fun things’ children do, let’s do some of them.” “Really? Why?”

“You can teach me what a ‘childhood’ should feel like and you can get to experience some of the things you couldn’t in Japan.” He stated plainly making Chise feel a little sheepish.

“Are you sure? Some of it is definitely pretty silly and don’t we have orders due?”

“If it doesn’t bother you then I don’t mind silly and Silver Lady can take care of anything minor.” He hesitated briefly before adding. “Of course if you would rather not than we do not have to do anything.” Chise didn’t like the idea of dumping work onto Silver although certainly wouldn’t mind…However, Elias was rarely so insistent and eager.

She cracked a cautious smile. “Well, I guess I don’t see why not.” His head bobbed in a happy nod “Now then, how should we begin?”

“Oh! um…” Right…what did children do these days? What had she done, or wanted to do, as a child that Elias would enjoy?

She fidgeted slightly causing the bag in her hands to crinkle. The party favors…She began to rummage lightly through its contents, a few plastic toys, a paper book and- Oh! This was an easy place to start. She pulled out a small yellow cardboard box eyeing it slightly, “Why don’t we start with these? Could you grab some blank paper and meet me at the dining table?”

In a few moments, they were sitting in their respective seats at the dining table, a small stack of cream white stationary and two small boxes of crayons sat in front of them. Chise reached for a box hesitating slightly. Would it be better to leave them in their box or to lay them all out on the table? Probably the table. Elias watched Chise’s motions patiently as she took one of the thin boxes and propped it open. He took the other box and followed her example.

“Have you seen crayons before?” She asked curiously. “Once maybe, although I don’t know what they’re for. They are a writing instrument, yes?” “They’re more of an instrument for drawing…”

She poured the crayons of her box into her hand and placed them on the table, Elias did the same. A faint waxy smell permeated the air. There were ten crayons in all, the boxes had both yielded the same colors; red, green, blue, yellow and black.

“So…there’s really not much to this,” she grabbed a black crayon and a piece of stationery, “you just take one and draw a picture.”

Elias stared at the crayons with a critical eye. “I can only take one?” His hand wavered over the red but retracted, frightened by the commitment of the decision. Chise giggled.

“You can use as many as you’d like, but it’s like a quill, it’s hard to use more than one at a time.”

Elias seemed to relax and picked up the red. “What should I draw?”

“Whatever you’d like, there aren’t any rules. Although you should probably take off your gloves, the crayon could leave a stain, maybe roll up your sleeves too.” Elias nodded and complied placing his gloves on the corner of the table. He picked up the red once again and ran his fingers over it pressing lightly to gauge its strength before positioning it like he would a quill pen. It was almost comically small in his enormous lavender hands. He tentatively placed his crayon against the stationary and slowly dragged it across the surface. “It’s…rougher than a quill.”

Chise smiled, with a creature as old as Elias there were very few new experiences. Watching him work through the kinks of a rare first try was oddly endearing. Until the crayon snapped.

He lifted the fractured halves to his face and sighed. “I’m sorry Chise…”

“It’s ok!” she reassured quickly leaning forward and grabbing his hand that lay on the table, “there’s another red you can use. Besides!” She grabbed the half still bearing a point and scribbled a circle on Elias’ paper. “It still can be used, it’s just a bit smaller.” She smiled at him before releasing his hand and handing him the spare red crayon. He took it cautiously before trying again, making sure to press lighter this time. After a few strokes, he started moving more confidently and eventually switched to the green crayon.

An odd sense of pride welled up in Chise as she watched him grow faster and more assured. She rested her elbow on the table propping her chin against her hand in thought trying to come up with something to draw herself. She glanced out the kitchen window where the early summer wooly bugs drifted through the air, baaing lazily. That seemed easy enough.

She dragged the black crayon lightly in curves creating a puffy cloud body followed by six black legs. The gentle action was calming. She couldn’t recall the last time she had drawn like this aside from little doodles in the margins of her notes.

Hmm, what did their faces look like again? She peered up for the window but caught Elias staring at her intently. He didn’t meet her eyes but held his gaze for a moment before returning to his drawing.

That was…odd.

Deciding that if he didn’t want to explain she shouldn’t pry, she returned to her own drawing.

A comfortable silence settled over them occasionally accompanied by a shift of paper or changing colors. It wasn’t until she had finished coloring in the bug’s face and legs that the silence was broken by a groan from Elias.

“Is there a method for undoing mistakes?” She thought for a moment. “I don’t think so, at least not for crayons and paper.” “Hmm,” he held up his paper eyeing it with scrutiny, “I see.”

Flames bloomed from his fingers swallowing up the stationery in an instant with not a trace of ash left to prove it had ever existed. He took a new slip of paper and nonchalantly resumed drawing.

Chise huffed. “You know these don’t have to be perfect or anything.” “I would still rather start over.” Elias replied with a shrug. She sighed without exasperation and continued onto the bugs wings.

The silence returned as Chise finished her wooly bug. She placed it aside grabbing a new paper and briefly caught Elias staring at her again. She elected to ignore it since he seemed content enough and started drawing a salamander. After finishing rather quickly, during which Elias burned another sheet, Chise excused herself to the washroom briefly which Elias only distractedly acknowledged. When she returned Silver Lady was at the kitchen sink washing vegetables.

“Ack! Silver I’m sorry are we in-” the brownie raised a finger to her lips and smiled brightly before returning to her washing. A half smile found its way to Chise’s lips as she went to sit down before realizing her chair had been moved. It now sat on the side normally reserved for Elias alone who still sat quietly scribbling away.

She could have sworn she heard Silver chuckle.

Very aware of the fluttering in her chest, Chise grabbed a new sheet and sat next to her mage. Elias paused briefly to curl an arm around her shoulders leaning her to his side without a word. Well used to his heedless affections, Chise leaned her cheek against his side. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of his paper. Apparently, he had started over again as it currently only bore two empty black ovals. He gave her a quick side hug before releasing her and returning to the paper once more.

Her eyes lingered on his skull, quietly observing the shadows and contours from the dips and grooves in the bone.

Finally breaking away her gaze, she picked up a black crayon and set to work.

——

Peals of Silver’s bell finally brought the magi out of their concentration after the sun had sunk just below the horizon.

“Dinner time already?” Chise said as she stretched her back and arms.

“It seems to be.” Elias responded, “We should probably wash up before helping set the table.”

Nodding Chise made her way to the washroom. She returned shortly finding Ruth positioned at his seat and the table already clear of their little project.

“Uh, where are-?” Silver with plates in both hands gestured toward the fridge with a small hum.

Held in place by small magnets were their drawings; three by Chise and one by Elias. She Stepped closer to get a better look at the picture Elias had been so finicky about getting correct. Chise felt her cheeks burn.

It was only her head and shoulders but with red hair and green eyes, the drawing was unmistakably her. The drawing had her hair down on her shoulders, a thin line for a smile and wore her red sweater. He had even put in a little blue in the background for a sketchy sky. It wasn’t perfect; the eyes were slightly different sizes, the nose was off center and there were several places where the colors ran together. But either Elias was finally satisfied with the outcome or Silver Lady had seized it before flames could lick it up. Regardless, Chise was…touched it had been spared.

Warmth settled on her shoulder and side.

“I see we had the same idea.” He pointed to her final picture causing Chise’s blush to flare hotter. His skull had proven not as difficult as she would have previously thought, at least from the side, but she had run out of room for all but a little of his horns causing it to look a little funny. She wasn’t sure if proud was the right word for her feelings toward the drawing, there had to be at least three mistakes on her paper for every one on Elias’, but she certainly felt glad she had made it.

She grasped the hand placed on her shoulder giving it a small squeeze. “Your drawing looks very nice.”

He made a satisfied sound. “Thank you, yours does as well.”

“So what do you think of our first childhood activity?”

Elias shifted his head as he methodically analyzed his feelings over the past few hours. “I would say it was enjoyable in its simplicity. Although I did find myself wishing I had more colors to use.”

Chise smiled, “We can pick up a bigger pack next time we’re in town…if you’d ever like to do this again that is.”

He hummed softly as his thumb circled her shoulder blade. “I think I’d like that very much.”

#the ancient magus bride #mahou tsukai no yome #mahoutsukai no yome #elias ainsworth #chise hatori #elias x chise #chise x elias #robinthorn #fan fiction #fan fic #stormy writes #too old for your age #I’m not sure if this classifies as fluff or not #but I had a lot of fun writing it #posting at 3 am cause I’m impatient and an irresponsible student lol #edit: whoops forgot the chapter title #edit 2: fixed the link at the top to not be a horrendous eyesore

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the-kings-tail-fin · 7 years

Note

Hi! Hope you’re doing well!! Mind if I ask ya to write a short fanfic on if Jackson were to have a son or daughter and what his intentions would be? What would he like his kid to be when he’s he gets older? Does he like the idea of being a father in the first place? Thank you very much!!

Hope YOU’RE doing well, anon! :) I’ve seen various conversations around the fandom discussing what he’d be like as a father, and they’re all quite good. I’ll see what I can do :) I’m gonna skip the infant stage and go straight to him dealing with a young child. I’m assuming the child came out of a one-night stand or a broken relationship, and he just now gets custody every so often.

“I’m so excited to finally get to meet her. I love children just so, so much!”

“Don’t make a scene, Gale. I don’t wanna draw attention.”

They were waiting in the far end of a rest stop parking lot on the side of I-40, waiting for the child’s mother to show up for the switch. Things had changed a lot over the past five years, and the kid had just been the beginning of it all.

Jackson sighed. He felt responsible for his own mistakes and wanted to make up for them, but at the same time, he still held a little resentment towards his daughter’s mother. They were never together, just young and drunk and stupid. Somehow, something wonderful still came out of that.

“Here they come! Jackson, I see them!” Gale whispered excitedly.

He lifted his eyes and saw them enter the parking lot. Jackson was suddenly very antsy, at a loss for what to say. They’d been swapping custody of her for nearly three months now, why was he so nervous? Was it Gale looming over him? Normally she wasn’t there, maybe that was it. No, he knew himself better than that.

“Alright, sweetie, here you go! Have fun at daddy’s house, okay?”

The sweetness of the woman’s tone almost made him angry, but he didn’t have any valid rationale as to why. He didn’t hate her. Deep down he knew he was just jealous that Maria was more attached to her mom than she was to him.

“Bye, mama.” she said, grabbing a bag full of things and heading up the ramp to Jackson’s trailer.

“Hey there, Maria.” Jackson moved back to make room for her and closed the ramp without ever making eye contact with the car waving goodbye outside.

“Hi, Daddy.” she said with a small smile. “I made you something!”

“Oh?” he didn’t have to act surprised.

She dug around in her bag and pulled out a slightly folded piece of paper with colored scribbles all over it, and gave it to him. He awkwardly took it and looked at it. He had no idea what it was.

“Do you like it?” she asked, wiggling in anticipation.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I sure do.” he sputtered, laying it down next to him.

“It’s you!” she went on to explain. “You won five trophies in one race!”

That’s not how it works. He thought, knowing better to tell her that to her face. But now he could see it, sort of. That black blob? That was him, he was pretty sure. Those gold and silver sticks? Trophies? This picture looked like a disillusioned Picasso a la crayons.

“It’s great, kid.” he complimented her again. “You’re good at art.”

“I want to be an artist when I grow up.”

“An artist?”

“Yeah!”

He watched her take more coloring supplies out of her bag and spread them all over the floor of his trailer. Some pages already had marks on them, but she used them anyway. Humming a little tune, she went to work as Gale took them home.

Jackson watched her, but didn’t say anything for the longest time. She was content to just do her thing. He wished he could have a coherent conversation with her, but she was still just so young. He didn’t know how to reach children.

She had his angular fenders and her mother’s eyes. He never would have guessed the combination would make for such a cute kid. She was going to be a heartbreaker one day, he could see it. Even now, he felt protective of her.

“Uh, why - why do you want to be an artist?” he asked hesitantly.

“’Cause it’s fun!” she exclaimed without ever looking up. “I can draw all day long.”

What did he expect? A thesis on how she thought her art could contribute to the world? He took a deep breath and searched for something else to say.

“So, uh, what do you want to do this week?”

“I dunno.” she shrugged, applying a heavy coat of yellow to the upper left corner of a sheet of paper.

“We can do something. Together. Whatever you want.” he felt himself getting desperate. She trusted and tolerated him, sure, but did she really want to be around him? In his mind, the jury was still out on that.

“I’ll think about it.”

Jackson sat quietly for the rest of the short trip home, watching her color away abstractedly. Defeated. By a five year old. Come on, Storm. You can do better. Can’t you?

“We’re home!” Gale said cheerily through the comm as she parked the trailer outside his house.

Maria hurriedly shoved all her things back into her carry bag and turned to face the ramp. As it lowered, she grew ever more excited at the sight of the mansion. It was like going on vacation every time she got to come visit.

“I’m gonna run to the store and get a couple things for dinner, okay? Is there anything you want?” Gale was unhitched and around to the back of the trailer before Maria had even got off the ramp.

“No, thanks.” she answered politely, gazing up at the big, excited black semi.

“You sure?” Jackson asked. “You can have whatever you want.”

“It’s okay, dad. Let’s go inside!” she made a beeline for the door, leaving Jackson momentarily alone with Gale.

“I don’t know about ‘whatever she wants’. Maybe, like, one or two things.” Gale said absentmindedly.

“You don’t have to go to the store for me, Gale. I’ll manage alright. I have the tastebuds of a little kid anyway. She’ll find something she likes.” Jackson’s voice fell a little. Gale could tell he wasn’t excited.

“Hmm.” she observed him for a moment. “Alright. But I’ll be back in the morning! I’m not passing up my chance to play with her.”

Jackson nodded, but said nothing. His daughter was already waiting at the door, staring at him expectantly.

“One more thing, Jackson.” Gale added as she turned to leave. “Don’t try too hard, okay?”

She left before he had a chance to ask her what that meant. He sighed and went to open his front door.

Maria rushed inside and immediately started giggling, driving around in circles, simply enjoying the open foyer. The back side of his house was nothing but windows that overlooked the desert city at the bottom of the mountain. It made the whole place seem so much bigger and freeing, like the whole world was theirs.

He smiled as he watched her drive over and gaze out the window.

“You like the view?”

“Mm-hm. I’m on top of the world!” she exclaimed, pressing her front bumper against the glass.

He chuckled and took a moment to enjoy it with her. He didn’t ever spend much time up here, but it was times like these that made him wish he could.

“Let’s go put your stuff up, and have some fun, alright?” he said, taking her bag from her and leading her to her room.

He’d paid an outrageous amount for a Californian designer to come in and put her room together. This little girl had it all - a canopy bed fit for royalty, a full sized playhouse, custom furniture, toys - you name it, he’d gotten it for her.

“I feel like a princess.” she giggled, remembering how much she loved it all.

“You should. You’re my princess.” he gave her a little tap on the side, sending her into another fit of laughter.

After she’d calmed down from the excitement of reuniting with the house, Jackson took her back into the living room and turned on some music for background noise, purely out of habit.

“What do you want to do now?” he asked her, looking around. Usually this was where he’d play video games until the wee hours of the morning. She probably wasn’t into that at all. What else did he have to offer?

She thought about it and looked around, but couldn’t help but focus on the beat coming through the surround sound. There weren’t any words to the song, just bass drops and exciting riffs. She started to wiggle to the beat.

“Dance party!” she exclaimed, spinning around and jumping up and down to the rhythm of the song. “Come on, dad!”

“Uh.” he was not expecting that.

She eagerly looked at him with wide eyes and an ever bigger grin. He glanced around. He didn’t dance for anyone but himself. Never in public, he always reminded himself.

But this wasn’t in public. It was just him and her, and she had apparently inherited his taste in music and impulse to move with it.

“You wanna learn how to dance? Alright, then.”

He turned the music up a little louder and started showing off. She absolutely loved it, screaming and laughing every time he pulled off a complicated move. She’d try to mimic him and completely butcher the movement, but he’d applaud her anyway. The next hour was just her jumping around and him learning to enjoy himself again. It was freeing for the both of them.

She decided when the dance party was over. She was winded and exhausted, but happy. Jackson turned the music back down and took her into the kitchen for a drink, feeling like he’d just been through a workout.

“That was so fun!” she said, taking a large sip of her drink.

“Yeah, it was!” he agreed. “You’re good. Really good.”

“Maybe one day I’ll be good as you!”

Those words shot straight to the center of his soul. They probably shouldn’t have, they were probably meaningless, but they told him that she did look up to him in some regard, even something as insignificant as dancing. It was a step in the right direction for him, and all he’d had to do was not overthink what he was doing. Maybe this was what Gale was getting at…

“Can we watch a movie?” she asked.

“Okay, which one?”

“Be right back!”

She zipped off towards her room while Jackson situated a bunch of pillows in front of his wall-sized television screen. He flipped it on and navigated to the right input while he waited. She came back holding a DVD case.

“This is one of my favorites.” she said, giving it to him.

“Finding Nemo, eh?” he’d heard of it, but never seen it himself.

He didn’t have anything against family movies, but historically speaking he did have trouble staying awake during them. He’d try his hardest this time.

As the movie started, Maria snuggled up right next to him, intent on the screen in front of her. Jackson situated a few more pillows around them so it was like they were in a big pillow nest. Perfect and cozy and very sleepover-esque. Little girls liked that, right?

What the actual - Two minutes into the movie. Practically a mass murder scene. This is a family movie? What? Jackson was hooked, hesitant if this was actually fit for kids, but hooked. He’d be staying awake for this. It said it was rated G, right?

It got better, more innocent, anyway. Jackson found the movie’s sense of humor surprisingly not an annoyance. Maria’s giggles were a form of entertainment all of their own, and he spent as much time paying attention to her as he did the film. Her presence relaxed him, and for once in his life he felt not in a hurry to do anything but enjoy the moment.

The sun had set by the time the movie was over. Jackson found himself dealing with a strange new emotion. For the first time he actually felt like a father, like a responsible father. Was he getting old? Soft? He wasn’t sure. Maybe Disney had just pulled some sort of magic spell on him where he’d identified with a character too much.

Maria yawned and stretched as Jackson took the DVD out of the player and placed it back in the case. She took it from him and tried to blink the sleepiness away.

“Time for bed?” he asked quietly.

She nodded and yawned again. He accompanied her to her room and watched as she put her things away and crawled up into the bed. He tucked her in, making sure she had everything she needed.

“Daddy, can I ask you a question?” she asked, eyes half closed.

“Of course. You can ask me anything.”

“If I got kidnapped or went missing, you’d come look for me, right? Like Marlin did?”

He was wholly unprepared for an inquiry of this magnitude. His voice caught in his throat before he ever opened his mouth. He reached out and stroked her side in a calming manner.

“Of course I would.” it sounded like a pubescent boy speaking instead of a grown man. “Across the oceans and everything.”

“Okay. I love you, daddy.”

“Love you, too, baby girl.”

He rushed out the door, feeling the waterworks forming in his eyes. He paced the distance from the front door to the kitchen and back many times, trying to keep from breaking down. Thinking on a whim that maybe fresh air would help, he went outside and out of habit approached his trailer.

The ramp was still down as he’d been too distracted to close it earlier. He went to go push the button, but froze as he saw a piece of paper still resting on the floor. He entered to look at the drawing she’d given him earlier. It was so clear now what she wanted to show him.

He picked it and pinned it to the wall where he could always see it. If this was how she saw him, then he had to make her proud.

Five trophies in one race? Alright. Let’s see what we can do.

#jackson storm #gale beaufort

71 notes · View notes

nightbts · 7 years

Text

our little family | pjm

pairing: single dad! jimin + teacher! reader

genre: fluff, angst + parent! au

word count: 2.8k

parts: 1 : 2 : 3 : 4 : 5 : 6 : + (bonus)

you were living a simple life filled with simple dreams; combining your two most loved things in life, children and teaching, you were starting out your career as a teacher at the local pre-school. but little did you know, how one child and her very special father, would change your simple life into something extraordinary

"Jieunnie, please." Jimin sighed as he tried putting her arms through the sleeves of her baby pink coat, which she shrugged back off again for the nth time, making Jimin let out a soft groan of exasperation.

Squeezing his eyes shut, his brows furrowed together as he began to feel his patience run thing, "Baby..."

"I don't want to go to school daddy," Jieun murmured softly, pouting as she looked at her dad with round eyes, the corners watering slightly before Jimin felt his resolve weaken at the sight of his little girl before him.

Sighing, he grabbed her hands and plastered on a huge smile, "Jieun! It'll be fun!" he tried cheering, "Daddy had loved going to school all his life (what a lie) and really wished he could go again."

"Then why don't you come with me?" Jieun asked with a tilt of her head, tugging at the ends of her little pale blue sundress, the color contrasting strongly against her raven blank hair that tumbled around her shoulders in soft curls.

Cradling her face in his hands, her cheeks squishing up together making Jimin chuckle slightly, he said, "Daddy's too old now, but if anything happens I'll be there for you, alright? Do you wanna go now? I promise it'll be great."

"Pinky promise?" Jieun asked, holding out her pinky to Jimin's face as he laughed a little, hooking her tiny pinky within his and bringing them together before pressing a small kiss to her hands, "I promise baby."

"Hi guys!! Welcome! Hello!" you smiled happily as the kids walked in one by one into your class. All of their faces varied in expression, some happy, some mad, some scared and some with tears and snot dripping from their little noses.

Oh, children.

"There you go Jieun. I'll pick you up in a couple hours okay?"

You found yourself turning your head towards the deep voice, your eyes falling on a man who sat crouched down in front of a pretty little girl. You watched her lips form a small pout, her head shaking side-to-side as she refused to let go of the man, who you presumed was her father although it struck you in amazement at how young the man looked.

Looking up, his eyes suddenly met yours, a small smile appearing on his face. You felt your body instantly go flush with embarrassment at being caught, but also finding yourself suddenly entranced by the man's beauty.

Shaking the thought away, you scolded yourself, Y/N, this man is probably married, get yourself togethe–

"Hello, I'm Park Jimin. You must be Ms. L/N?" a husky voice interrupted your thoughts to which you looked up with widened eyes. The man stood before you, holding his little girl's hand as she stood behind his legs, holding his arm tightly and giving you shy glances every now and then.

“Y-yes, that's me." you slightly stammered as you quickly reached your hand out, watching his hand engulf yours before giving it a firm shake. Glancing downwards, you gave the little girl a small smile before crouching down on your knees to her level.

"Hey sweetie, what's your name?" you asked gently as her eyes blinked in response, looking between you and her father before you saw him give her a slight nod.

"P-Park Jieun." she stuttered, rolling her lip between her teeth as she looked at you nervously.

Chuckling softly, you reached out for her hand, taking it in yours before giving them a gentle squeeze. "Well, Jieun, I'm so glad a cute little girl like you decided to join my class."

As the words left your mouth, you watch the corner of her lips twitch slightly before they tilted upwards into a small, shy smile. Her eyes that were filled with tears now shined brightly, her round brown orbs awfully similar to her father beside her, and you couldn’t help but find immediate comfort in them instantly.

"You think I'm cute?" she asked, her voice laced with childish innocence, causing both you and Jimin to laugh simultaneously. Ruffling her hair, your nose scrunched up as you cooed, "You sure are."

Her smile spread into a big grin before she turned to her dad, her small arms wrapping around his legs and hugging him tight before whispering, yet audible enough for you to hear.

"I think I like her daddy."

Jimin's eyes softened at his daughter as he hugged her tight, before pulling back to give her a gentle kiss to the forehead. "Well, I'm glad to hear that," he beamed, before his eyes flickered up to yours, his eyes sending you a small thank you to which you shook your head shyly, letting him know it was no problem at all.

"Ok class! Today, we’re going to end off the class with a small activity that I know you guys are going to love, okay?!" you said excitedly, clapping your hands together, as all 20 pairs of eyes looked back in your direction, ears perked at the sound of something fun.

"How many of you love to draw and color?" you asked when the children all raised their hands happily, some jumping out of their seats as you let out a giggle, your smile widening as you witnessed the excitement on each kid's face.

"Well then, today you guys are going to be drawing me a pretty family portrait and then tomorrow you're going to present them. How’s that sound?" you said, flashing them a thumbs-up, as all their little heads nodded quickly.

As you passed out the sheets of construction paper, the kids ran past each other grabbing at the crayons, markers and color pencils and rushing back to draw on their blank sheets of paper, soon to be full of childlike scribbles that would hold so much imagination unknown to you.

Sitting at your desk, your eyes raked over each child, finding yourself smiling as they chatted with each other, showing one another their drawings. Just then, your eyes stopped at Jieun, your lips turning into a small frown when you saw her stare down at her sheet with a sad look in her eyes as they wandered to the papers around her.

The second you saw her lips tremble, your instincts took over and you rushed over to her. Crouching down beside her, you touched her shoulder gently when she looked up at you with glassy eyes, your heart wrenching in your chest as you saw the precious little girl in front of you trying not to cry.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong Jieun?" you asked softly, rubbing her arm as she sniffled, pointing to her drawing. Taking it in your hand, you looked at the two stick figures who stood in front of a house with a small puppy drawn beside them.

You shook your head, pursing your lips as you looked back at her in confusion, "I don't understand Jieun-ah? This looks so good!"

Shaking her head, she whimpered as her hands quickly brushed away the fresh tears, "No it doesn't! It doesn't look good at all!”

Tilting your head in confusion, you took the drawing in your hand as you turned to look back at Jieun, “Why do you think that way Jieun? I think your drawing looks absolutely beautif–"

"I don't have a mommy. My mommy left me.”

You felt yourself go still, eyes blinking as you realized the thought had never brushed your mind. Your eyes wandered back to the sheet when you noticed that another person was indeed missing in the picture. Squeezing your eyes close, you scolded yourself for being so ignorant, when you heard slight sniffles escape Jieun.

"Oh Jieun~," you sighed as you slowly moved closer towards her, enveloping her into your arms as you hugged her tight, rubbing her back in efforts to soothe her cries.

"Jieun, it's okay if you don't have a mom. Your family is still beautiful because you have a dad and a dog that love you very much–"

"I don't think Charlie likes me very much." Jieun interrupted with a frown, making you laugh softly as you pinched her cheeks.

"Hey, I'm sure he does now," you replied with a chuckle, giving her a soft smile.

Leaning back in towards your touch, her arms wrapped tightly around your neck as she muttered, "But, I wish I had a mommy too."

Feeling dismayed, you felt your heart shatter into pieces at that, knowing yourself how hard it is to grow without a mother as you once did. Having to learn everything yourself and not having someone to talk to when you had the deepest of problems, was definitely not easy.

But your dad was absolutely amazing. He played the role of being both your mom and dad simultaneously, and you couldn't have loved him more for doing that, for being strong enough to raise you all alone when he could've just abandoned you.

"Abandon you? Are you crazy?" your dad once said in shock, completely taken aback and flurtered as you looked up at him worriedly, at the tender age of eleven.

"I-I didn't mean it like tha–" you started when you felt your dad hug you close to his chest and sigh.

"Y/N, you are absolutely the best thing that happened in my life. I will never abandon you sweetheart. I love you okay?"

Pulling away, you gave him a tearful smile and nodded quickly before hugging him again, "I love you too dad."

"Jieun?" you said, as she looked up at you.

Tucking the loose strands of her hair behind her ear, you whispered, "Did you know when I was your age, I didn't have a mom too? But guess what? Because of all the love my dad, friends, and family gave me, I grew up really happy and loved."

Wiping away the stray tears on her rosy cheeks, you smiled and said, "And I know that everyone loves you too, especially your daddy and he won't ever stop. And even me, I love you very much too Jieun. "

Just then a little boy beside you piped up, his words causing you to stifle back a laugh as you were unaware he was listening in on your conversation this whole time.

"Yea! And I like you a lot too, you're so pretty!" he gleamed making you chuckle as Jieun blushed in front of you, swaying back and forth shyly.

Getting up from your knees, you ruffled her hair and started to go back to your desk, about to tell the kids to ready themselves for dismissal when a small hand gripped your wrist.

Looking back, Jieun said shyly, her words making your heart soar, "Thank you Ms. L/N. I think I love you too!"

Your gaze softened at her as you chuckled lightly, feeling content as you knew this was a reason you wanted to be a teacher. To let children know that you would always be there for them, just as their parents would.

Approaching your desk, you clapped your hands together to get the kids' attention back to you. "Alright, guys! It's time to pack our stuff up, okay?" you announced, as all the kids groaned in response.

Laughing, you replied, "Now, now, I know how much you love me, but I'm sure your parents want to spend some time with you too."

Ushering all the kids to clean up after themselves, you motioned for them to put on their jackets and pack up their backpacks as parents began to appear outside your classroom, ready to take their kids home.

Opening the door, you smiled warmly at all the parents and greeted them, each one asking you questions about how your day was and how the kids were.

"Thank you for that,” a voice suddenly said from behind you, making you turn around, your eyes meeting Jimin's warm gaze.

You raised your eyebrow in question as he motioned over to Jieun, who was now happily talking to the rest of the kids while packing up her stuff.

"About her mother," Jimin added as a small oh left your mouth before you shook your head shyly, unaware he was here long enough to have caught your conversation with his daughter.

"It's nothing really. I didn't have a mother growing up either so I understand how it must be, but I'm sure with a father like you, she'll be just fine."

At that Jimin flashed you a teasing grin, "It seems like you already have me figured out? "

You scoffed, though your expression remained playful as he laughed softly before Jieun came running to the both of you, throwing herself into her dad’s arms.

"Daddy!" she squealed as Jimin lifted her up, hugging her close to his chest as he peppered short kisses all over her face, making Jieun giggle endlessly.

Your heart warmed at the sight as you found yourself staring at Jimin and Jieun, the sight reminiscent of yourself and your dad when you were much much younger. The way his face shined with absolute adoration and love for his daughter made your heart flutter in your chest, however, you were quick to shove the feelings away. You dismissed them as a mere moment of wholesomeness that simply made your heart swell with happiness and nostalgia.

Yet, as something crossed your mind, you felt yourself frown a bit. Remembering what Jieun had said earlier, you found yourself slightly upset at the thought of the woman who left Jieun and his father. Although you couldn't judge her for something you didn't know what happened, you couldn't help but feel a bit of frustration within you for leaving what could’ve been such a beautiful family.

"Ms.L/N!" a voice called, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Jieun grinning widely at you, as she sat in her father's arms looking absolutely content and at home.

“Yes, Jieun?"

Stretching her arms outwards, she giggled, "I want a hug," when she suddenly lunged towards you. Your eyes went round with surprise as you saw her move, almost in slow motion: her body was still in her father's arms yet her little arms wrapped themselves around your neck.

The sudden motion caused you to lose your footing; stumbling backward, your eyes squeezed close as you felt yourself fall. As you anticipated the cold, hard floor behind you, your eyes shot open in surprise when a strong arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you up so fast, you felt your nose brush his.

A small tingle ran down your spine when you realized how close you were to Jimin, close enough to see the mole near his eye and to feel his heavy breath fan your face.

"I got you." he breathed, his eyes locking with yours as you blinked back at him, your heart thundering in your chest before he let you go gently, a stretch of tension strung between the two of you that Jieun cut through almost immediately.

"Whoopsies!! I'm sorry Ms. L/N!!!"

Pulling your gaze away from Jimin's whose eyes were searing into the back of your head, you sighed softly and gave her a weak smile, your heart still hammering wildly in your chest.

"Just be a little careful next time, okay?" you whispered, as you ruffled her head.

Nodding, she jumped from her dad's arms and tugged him towards the door.

"Daddy, let’s go," she whined, tugging on his fingers when Jimin turned to look back at you.

A look flashed between his eyes that suddenly had your knees weak, but it ceased to exist seconds later as a familiar smile returned to his face before he apologized, "I'm sorry, I–"

You quickly shook your head, and said, your face burning evidently red, "I-It's fine, I should be thanking you."

His smile widened as you noticed his face flush, nodding at you in response before he left through the door, with a happy Jieun mumbling incoherent words as she skipped her way out.

Placing your hand against your chest, you could feel heart racing a mile a minute, as you tried to take a couple breaths in attempts to get yourself back to normal, back to how you used to be.

But you had a feeling there was no going back anymore.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Jieun?" Jimin replied as he stared straight ahead towards the road, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror.

"I really like Ms. L/N!! She's so nice to me and she said she loves me too. Just like you do daddy!" Jieun giggled in the back, bringing a warm smile to Jimin's face.

"Well isn't that great, Jieun!! I told you you'd like school, didn't I?" Jimin grinned.

"Daddy, do you like Ms. L/N too?"

Jimin's eyes widened as he choked on his spit, almost faltering his step on the accelerator, as he stammered a response, "W-what?"

"Ms.Y/N? She's so pretty!!!"

Jimin blinked, his lips parting open and close like a goldfish before he looked at his daughter through the rearview mirror who was giving him an innocent smile.

Sighing, he awkwardly scratched his ear that grew hot as he found himself thinking of you. The way you smiled, the feeling of you in his arms, the memory your nose brushing his slightly all had his heart fluttering and bones tingling just at the thought.

Glancing back at his daughter who looked back at him with an expectant look, he chuckled.

"Yea, she sure is."

AN: *Screams for an hour*

5K notes · View notes

freddiefredfive · 7 years

Text

My First Best Friend (Preschool Connor Murphy x Evan Hansen)

As he watched the sunrise started to peak over the trees through the window of his father’s pickup truck, 3 year old Evan Hanson started to worry about what this thing his mom called “preschool” is going to be like.

“Why can’t Mommy and Daddy come with me?” He thought to himself, “Maybe it’s a place where I’m supposed to live there for now on… Will I be alone?” He felt alone enough being an only child.

“You alright, Evan?” Evan’s mother asked, noticing the anxiety in her son’s eyes as he hugged his toy bear. Evan’s father, who was still married to his mother at the time, tried to chime in as he drove the family to school parking lot.

“Aren’t you excited for your first day of preschool, bud?” he asked.

Evan was silent for 30 seconds and then finally spoke up.

“Is Mama an’ Dada going to lee'b me at pweschool forebber?” he asked, close to tears.

Evan’s mother turned to his father and shot him a look telling him to immediately park the car. Once they were parked, his mother turned to her son from the front passenger seat.

“Sweetie, of course we wouldn’t leave you there forever,” she replied as calmly as she could, even though seeing her little boy look so scared broke her heart, “Just for a little while each day so you can make friends and learn new things.”

“You remember your friend Jared Kleinman?” Evan’s father asked as he turned around from the driver’s seat, “You had a play date with him the other day.”

Evan nodded. He remembered Jared, a fellow 3 year old who’s mother was friend with Evan’s mother. That didn’t mean that it was Jared’s obligation to be friends with Evan. Evan had not so fond memories of Jared calling him a loser for being a scaredy cat and playing mean pranks on him when no one was looking.

“Your friend Jared will be there, so you won’t be alone!” Evan’s father grinned happily at his son, trying his best to ease his mind. Sadly, mentioning Jared’s name made Evan feel even more worried. like most new experiences, Evan was always found something to be afraid of.

—

“Ow!… Ow!… Mommy stop! Dat hurts!” cried Connor Murphy as his mother was brushing his long dark hair into a bun in the back of his hair.

“Sorry, Connie-bear!” His mother replied as she finished the bun, “You have to look good for your first day of preschool!”

“Why do I haf-tah go?” Connor grumbled, already not a morning person at 3 ½ years old, “It sounds stoopid.”

“Watch your language, Connor.” The boys father growled as he came into the living room holding Connor’s 18 month old sister, Zoe. “You’ll love school, Connor. A boy like you should put himself out there and make new friends…” He gives Zoe a smooch on the forehead and puts her in the playpen. “Get your coat on and kiss your mother goodbye for the day. I’m going to take you to school myself.”

Connor sighed and grabbed his black hoodie. His mother already had picked out a light purple jacket, not wanting his son to wear just black and grey, like he always does. She realizes that her son was… unique, but she accepted her son for who he was. Connor’s father, on the other hand, believed that his son defied all normalities in order to take attention away from his baby sister. Like any 3 ½-year-old, Connor obviously did not always see eye to eye with his sister, but he had nothing against her. However, at such a young age, he was finding it harder and harder to express himself. His father barely allowed Connor to let his hair down, literally and figuratively, because he was afraid of what people might think of their family. Connor would sometimes lash out as a result of this confinement and it would only made things worse.

“Wouldn’t you want to wear this coat instead?” Connor’s mother held up the light purple coat with a smile.

“No…” Connor frowned as he put on his favorite black jacket, “Too… yucky!” he zipped the hoodie all the way up so no one can see his pearly white shirt tucked inside his jeans and black Converse sneakers. Once wearing the coat, Connor formed a little smile in the corner of his mouth, which made everything alright in his mother’s eyes. She leaned down and kissed his forehead.

“I love you Connor… Have fun…” She told him sweetly.

Connor nodded and his smile faded as he followed his father to the car as fast as he could. His backpack slowed him down because of all the things stuffed in it… his progress folder, a box of crayons, his lunchbox, a change of extra clothes… and two other secret things that made Connor a tad nervous to go to school.

“And Connie-Bear!” His mother called, “Remember about what we told you about being a big boy!”

—

The classroom was jam packed with children when Evan and his family walked in. It’s loud sound consisting of talking, laughing, stomping footsteps, and toys being banged together made Evan frightened, so he started to cry. The little boy clung to his mother’s leg, making it harder for his family to leave.

“Evan…” his mother said, trying to hold back her own tears as she picked up her son, “Daddy and I will be back soon…”

The teacher, Mrs. Keeper, approached the family with a warm smiled.

“Hello there!…” the young teacher greeted the parents, “You must be the Hanson’s, yes?”

“Yes, this is Evan…” Evan’s father motioned to his son, “He’s having a rough day.”

“He’s very shy…” His mother added and turned to her son.

“Sweetheart,” she cooed “…this is your teacher, Mrs. Keeper!”

“Hello there, little friend!” Mrs. Keeper waved to the boy, “Don’t cry! We’re here to have fun! Mommy and Daddy will come back soon!”

Evan’s parents both gave their son a long hug and covered his face in kisses.

“Have fun and makes new friends, Evan,” his mother started sniffing with a feeling of heartbreak and pride, “We love you…”

His mother placed Evan on the ground and Evan kept sniffling as he watched his parents leave the room. Mrs. Keeper held his hand and led him to the drawing table.

“That’s a nice bear you have,” Mrs. Keeper sweetly told Evan, “Does your bear have a name?”

“W'eaf,” Evan said softly, rubbing one eye.

“Leaf?” The teacher replied cheerfully, “Did you name him that because you like trees?”

Evan nodded, “Uh huh… I wuv t'wees…”

“How about you draw a picture of some trees for your Mommy and Daddy? Mrs. Keeper suggested as they made it to the table, where Jared was already sitting there, scribbling away.

Evan was hesitant, at first, because of Jared. However, if he didn’t sit with Jared, who would Evan sit with? So, he nodded.

“Hey E'bban!” Jared smirked as he pushed his glasses back up to the top of his nose. “Ya still a scawwdy cat?” he whispered to Evan when Mrs. Keeper left the table.

“No…” Evan answered without looking up, trying to ignore Jared by starting on his picture. He decide to draw a great Pinetree that stood tall in his backyard and that made him feel a little better.

“Den what’s dat?” Jared asked, pointing to Evan’s bear.

“Nuffin…” Evan said, trying his best to hide his bear under his arm, “Pwease w'eeb me awone.”

“Ebban! I’m ya onwy fwend!” Jared put his arm around Evan. “Who else would pwo'yect ya fwom… Connah Murphy?”

“Huh?” Evan looked puzzled.

Jared pointed to the boy in black, who was already sitting in time out after 10 minutes of being in school after hitting a kid who made fun of his hair.

“Dat Connah Murphy! Da meanest boy in cwass!” He declared. “He pushes kids down, doesn’ shware an… he’s a b'ampire! He’ll suck ya bwood!”

Evan started to shiver in fear. Connor did look like a vampire in his eyes. Dark clothes, strange looking hair, angry look. How could he not be a monster?

“Weawwy?” Evan turned to Jared, putting his trust in him, “You pwo'yect me?”

“Yah!” Jared nodded, “Wha are fwiends fwor?”

—

For most of that first day, Evan and Jared avoided “the vampire” as much as they could. When all the kids gathered around on the carpet to introduce themselves, Connor sat out in time it for the second time because he pushed down kid who called him Pinocchio, due to his long nose. However, Connor was promised to get a second chance to introduce himself during show and tell, which was after the class came back from the jungle gym.

Jared was being a ham during his turn, like he always was; talking about how this summer was his third time going to Disneyland and how he got to stay at the Cinderella suite. Another kid, Alana was talking about how she’s “close acquaintances” with the President Clinton and how her family got to spend a whole week out of their summer with them on vacation.

When it was Evan’s turn to speak, he hid his tear covered face behind his bear. No words came out of his mouth. Just a cluster of “Um–um–um…” came out as he started to shiver with fright. In no time, he also started to wet his pants, making him start to weep. The whole class almost died laughing when Evan peed his pants… all except Connor, surprisingly. Connor stay silent, relating to Evan’s nervousness not only because he realized that it’s not easy to talk in front of strangers, but also because of a secret he managed to hide very well. He actually felt bad for the little guy but he kept all of his emotions inside.

—

Evan came back with a fresh pair of pants on just in time for lunch. He took his forest ranger lunchbox and walked over to Jared’s table. When he approached Jared he heard snickers not only from the kids surrounding Jared, but from Jared as well!

“Hey Pee-Pee Pants!” Jared grinned as he got a laugh from some friends.

“Baybee got a new diapee?” A girl giggled as she pointed to her baby doll and then pointed at Evan.

“Don’ dwink too much juice!” Another boy teased him.

Evan felt the tears well up in his eyes again but that’s when he heard someone speak up.

“Hey w'eave Ebban a'wone!” Connor called out as he thundered over to the table. All the kids except Jared froze out to fear. The “vampire” had emerged.

“We awl go pee pee sometimes…” Connor then shot a angry look at Jared, “Ebben you, stoopid!”

“But Evan nuffin’ but a baybee!” Jared defended.

“Shut up,” Connor snapped back, “Or I make yo hang fwom da top of da fwag-powle!” He put his arm around Evan, “Wet’s go, kid.”

Evan was shocked to see that the vampire came out to defend him. Suddenly this Connor guy wasn’t so scary anymore… So he followed him to the empty table at the end of the room. Connor placed his forest green lunchbox on the table and sat.

“I wike you lu'chbox.” Evan points to it, smiling a little bit.

“F'anks,” Connor nodded and looked at Evan’s lunchbox, “…You wike t'wees?”

Evan nodded, his smile getting wider and wider. He loved trees became his late grandfather was lumberjack as a young man. As a way to cope, Evan wanted to learn all about trees and on his 3rd birthday, his parents gave him a giant book all about them. His mother read the book to him every night so it was easy for him to ramble on about the different kinds of trees to Connor. Evan went on about trees for a solid 10 minutes but Connor wasn’t annoyed. He calmly drank his carton of milk and enjoyed listening to this nerdy, but sweet, kid.

As Evan was talking, Mrs. Keeper walked over to Connor, smiling as usual.

“Hi Connor! Can I check you?” she asked.

Evan looked a little confused when he saw the nervous look on Connor’s face. Connor shook his head immediately. He was so close to having a friend. “Why would Mrs. Keeper blow it for me?” He thought to himself.

Mrs. Keeper sighed and swiftly checked his behind, which was still in a diaper. Evan was surprised to see a kid as big as Connor still in diapers. Evan had little accidents here and there but at least he wore underwear.

“You’re dry,” Mrs. Keeper smiled, “Remember to tell me if you feel like you need to go potty. You gotta make Mommy and Daddy and Zoe proud!”

Connor nodded slowly, feeling a little violated but decided not to lash out because he didn’t want to sit out again. Evan leaned in and talked softly so no one could hear him.

“You still in diapee’s?” Evan asked, “You don’ know how tah use da potty?”

Connor’s eyes started to tear up. He was too embarrassed to look Evan in the eyes.

“I do know how…” He said softly, “S–sometimes it hard to w'emember… an’ Daddy get’s w'eawwy mad at me.”

Evan knew that if he told Jared and his friends about Connor’s issue, they would tease him constantly. All this “vampire” needed was a friend to stick with him through thick and thin, so that’s what Evan decided to be for Connor. He leaned in to hug his new friend.

“I won’ tell anyone, Connah…” Evan smiled, “You mwy fwiend!”

Connor was shocked to hear those words from Evan. No one told him that they were his friend before, so he started to smile and hug him back.

“Fank yew Ebban…” Connor sniffled, “You mwy fwiend too!”

Connor never smiled so wide in his young life. He figured that if Evan could accept Connor for who he is, then he’s the only friend he needed. He could not wait to go home and tell his family about his wonderful new friend. They would be so proud of him.

“Connah?” Evan spoke up.

“Yeah?” Connor looked down.

“I wike you bwack jacket.”

“Fank you…” Connor grinned.

—

When it was time to go out and play on the playground, Connor made sure that he and Evan were the last kids to go out.

“I wanna show ya somethin!” Connor said as he brought Evan over to his cubby where his forest green backpack was hanging. He opened the bag and brought out a stuffie of a black lab.

“Dis Midnight!” Connor announced. He was worried that if he brought Midnight out, the other kids might call him a baby, but Evan was much different.

“Can he meet W'eaf?” Connor asked Evan, who immediately nodded back.

“Hi Midnight!” Evan said for the bear as he held it up to Connor’s lab, “I’m W'eaf! Wanna pway?”

“Uh huh!” Connor said for the dog and the two boys rushed outside to where everyone else was playing.

All throughout playtime, Evan and Connor laughed and giggled with joy as the went on the slide and played tag.

Jared saw the two playing and scoffed at his friend Alana.

“Connah’s such a fweak,” Jared smirks.

“I’m onwwy cwose acqw'uaintances wif him,” said 3 year old Alana as she pushed up her glasses, “I’m afwaid he’ll dwink my bwood.”

When they were too exhausted to run anymore, Connor and Evan sat on the seesaw. Evan let Connor chat on about how he saw a grown up with black nails and how he wanted them too when he grew up.

After playtime was naptime. As she and the teacher’s assistant brought the mats down, Mrs. Keeper went over to Connor.

“Let’s go try potty before we sleep,” she kindly suggested as she held his hand.

Connor started to look worried again. He had to go badly but he didn’t want to leave his new friend Evan. Not even for a minute. Evan wanted to help Connor go potty too, so he decided to speak up.

“Uh… I gotta go potty too!” Evan told the teacher. Connor felt relieved when Evan said that and the three of them went to the bathroom together.

Mrs. Keeper noticed how Evan smiled at Connor after they both went to the bathroom.

“Goo’ job Connah!” Evan grinned and parted Connor’s back, which made Connor blush but grin too.

Mrs. Keeper also noticed how Connor helped Evan turn on his faucet and reached up to grab paper towels for the both of them. She noticed how good they were for each other, so she decided to let them nap together as well. Her heart was ready to burst with cuteness when she saw Connor and Evan hugging each other in their sleep. She started to write two very happy little notes for their parents, talking about how these two shy boys quickly became so close.

—

When it was time for show and tell at the end of the day, Evan sat criss-crossed on the carpet with Connor. Connor let his hair down because his hair tie started to bother him. Evan stared at his hair and thought about how pretty it was. Alana was the first to raise her hand to present. She showed everyone her 7th grade science textbook.

“My Mommy an’ Daddy read dis to me befwore bedtime,” she announced as she pushed her glasses up, “Daddy told me that it’ll make me suppah smwart and get me intah collage sooner!”

Jared showed his baseball signed by Derek Jeter.

“I got tah meet him after the game,” he bragged, “He twold me dat maybe I can be as great as Babe Rufh if I try!”

“Thank you Jared…” Mrs. Keeper nodded and turned to Connor, “Connor, this is your chance to introduce yourself and to show your puppy to the class. Come on up!”

Connor realized that everyone could see his toy and he quickly hid it behind his back. He tried to pretend like the toy wasn’t there. Mrs. Keeper saw how Evan was too nervous himself to present as well… so she made a plan.

“Connor? Evan?” She told the boys gently, “Would it make it better if you two presented together?”

Evan and Connor looked at each other with wide eyes. Connor nodded at Evan and Evan slowly nodded back with a nervous gulp. They both got up and before their classmates (and bullies but that was mostly the same thing).

“Um… I’m Connah Murphy…” Connor started off softly, “I’m f'ree an’ a half years old…. Um…”

“How about you show them your puppy?” said Mrs. Keeper.

Connor looked at Evan and Evan nodded at him with a smile.

“Dis is Midnight…” Connor said as he brought out his toy puppy, “He a doggy an’ he bwack… mwy faborate cah-wor…”

“Does he do twicks?” Alana asked.

Connor nodded and flipped the toy in the air. All the kids marveled at the flip with a chorus of “Oooh!” and “Aaah!” and “Wow!”

Evan giggled at the flip, which encouraged Connor to smile. Maybe this wasn’t so embarrassing as he thought it was.

“If I get a puppy,” one boy said said, “I wanna get one wike Connah’s!”

Evan grinned proudly at Connor, who was smiling with a touch of confidence.

“Evan?” Mrs. Keeper asked, “Would you like to show us your bear?

Connor gave Evan a nod of approval and held his hand. Evan took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

“Dis W'eaf…” Evan said shyly and held up the bear. “I named him dat cuz I wike t'wees…”

Evan thought for a moment. He just /had/ to tell the class all about his forest expertise!

“Actuawwy, dere are a hundwed-f'ousand kinds of t'wees awl a'wound the world…”

Evan talked on for seven more minutes about his favorite kinds of trees and answered questions from his classmates about them.

Mrs. Keeper couldn’t have been any more proud of Connor and Evan.

—

When it was time to go home the boys were drew pictures for each other while waiting for their parents to come pick them up.

“Ebban…” Connor turned to Evan with a drawing of Evan as a lumberjack, “Dis is fwor you!”

Evan grinned from ear to ear.

“Fank you Connah!” He smiled and handed a picture of Connor with black nail polish on, “Dis is for you!”

Connor immediately took the picture and hugged it.

“It awesome!” he cheered and then hugged Evan, “Ebban… fanks for being mwy fwiend…”

“Fanks for being /mwy/ fwiend!” Evan smiled and hugged him back.

“Can we be fwiends forebbah?” Connor asked.

“Uh huh!” Evan nodded, “Always!”

It was at that moment, Evan and Connor’s mothers walked into the door. Both boys bolted to their families with their pictures and hugged them. Evan waved at Connor and Connor waved at Evan. The two hopped into their families car with grins on their faces.

“Mommy! Zoe!” Connor said as his mom drove him and is sister home, “I can’t wait to go back tah school tomowwow!”

“Mama!” Evan said as his mom drove him home, “I can’t wait to go back tah school tomowwow!”

“How wonderful, Connie-bear!” Connor’s mother cheered, “Who gave you that picture sweetie? Was it the boy you were with when I picked you up?”

“That’s awesome, buddy!” Evan’s mother gleaned, “Who gave you that picture sweetie? Was it the kid you were with when I picked you up?”

“Yeah!” Connor nodded and showed Zoe the picture Evan drew, “Dis fwom mwy new best fwiend an’ we gonna be fwiends forebbah!”

“Uh huh!” Evan said as he smiled down at Connor’s picture, “He mwy best fwiend… an’ we gonna be fwiends forebbah.”

THE END.

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lolbtsaus · 8 years

Text

Art (Tattoo Artist!Jimin)

Plot: #72: “They’re not coloring books. They’re “adult” coloring books.” + #98: “Our kid is totally the one who wanted to build a pillow fort, not me.” with tattoo artist!Jimin

Word Count: 843

A/N: so the college!joon post should be up within the next couple days, I have a quiz coming up so I don’t know if I’ll be able to write it tomorrow bc I gotta study for that shit but if I don’t have time to write it, it’ll come out the day after that!! The links for this post are tattoo artist!Jimin (here) and father!Jimin (all of the father related posts are here) also for everyone that hasn’t read father!Jimin, he has one daughter, there’s another version where he has a younger son as well and the requester of the pillow fort prompt asked for the version with his son so I’ll be using that one!!!

Jimin’s favorite way to spend his time was with his children, whether it was playing one of their made up games or just holding them in his arms while they slept. He couldn’t spend all of his time with them, he did have to work but he always made sure to call them during his breaks and let them visit the tattoo shop he owned during his lunch break. They were excited when they knew it was time to see him, both of them waiting by the door with their shoes in their hands and their jackets messily thrown on.

One of their favorite things to do with him was create art, a painting, a drawing, coloring, anything artistic. They had gotten his love for art, always wanting to draw “tattoos” onto his inked up skin with their markers, concentrated looks on their faces when they were allowed to scribble on his arms. They never got to see him tattoo someone because of professionalism but they were both convinced they would follow in his footsteps and take over his tattoo shop when they were old enough. He could only smile when they told him all about how they would decorate the shop, how they would give free hugs to everyone that came in, even if they weren’t a customer. He loved seeing how much they looked up to him, especially at such a young age and he was more than happy to teach them all of his drawing tips and techniques.

They’d sit on his lap, his hand guiding theirs as they drew all over the pages of his sketchbooks. Your daughter’s drawings had began to become recognizable but your son’s were still a bit messy. Jimin loved every single drawing they did though, scribbles or not, he hung them up on his wall and rewarded them with kisses.

It didn’t surprise you when you came home from a lunch with friends to see your living room overtaken by a pillow fort. You could hear the giggles of your children from underneath the blankets, a smile forming on your face as you peeked into the fort. Your children were on either side of Jimin, their eyes focused on the coloring books in front of them. They both gave you eager waves as your husband quickly shut the coloring book in front of him, a sheepish smile on his face.

“You’re home early.”

“Pillow fort?” you questioned, kicking your shoes off and crawling into the fort.

“Our kid is totally the one who wanted to build a pillow fort, not me.” He pointed down to your daughter, who had already gone back to coloring the picture of Spongebob with a bright red crayon. “She insisted on it.”

“Oh, I’m sure she did.” you laughed, looking through the pile of coloring books he had brought down. “And this? She insisted on coloring books as well?”

“They’re not coloring books. They’re “adult” coloring books.”

“Frozen has an adult coloring book?” You held up the page he’d been coloring before you’d come in, both of your children giggling at the blush on Jimin’s cheeks.

“Don’t knock Queen Elsa, she is a complex character with a heartbreaking backstory.”

You leaned over to give him a quick kiss, making yourself comfortable next to your son. “They bring out your inner child, Chim but it’s really, really cute.”

“I can’t help it, they just have so much fun with all of this. I like making them happy, it makes me happy.” He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your daughter’s forehead, his smile widening when she kissed his cheek.

You felt the familiar soreness in your cheeks from smiling so much, seeing Jimin so wrapped around the two children’s fingers. They really did bring out his inner child, resulting in character-shaped pancakes, costumes and countless tea parties at tiny tables not even Jimin could properly fit into but he did his best to make his children happy. He almost had more fun than them with some of their games, the smile never leaving his face as they chased him around in a game of tag, admitting defeat when they had him cornered and had latched onto his legs. He was their best friend, their role model, the one they could go to for anything and everything they ever needed, whether it was emotional comfort or kissing a “boo boo” away.

Watching them fall asleep on his chest reminded you of the first few months of both of your children’s lives, when his tattooed arms were the only place they could be found. They had looked so small against him, their entire bodies sprawled across his torso with extra room to stretch out but now they were starting to run out of room, their feet landing on his thighs instead of his stomach. You knew no matter how old they got, no matter how tall, even if they outgrew him, they would always be able to rely on their father, always able to come home and fall asleep in his arms.

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as-be-low · 8 years

Text

Time Has Changed Me, Chapter 4

You know how it feels, you understand What it is to be a stranger In this unfriendly land Here's my hand Take it, darling And I'll follow you Lead Me On—Bobby Blue Bland

When Stanford returned with Stella in tow, he looked somewhere between confused and pissed off. Stella, on the other hand, looked quite content to be hanging onto the other man’s trench coat lapel.

“Didja have fun, little bit?”

“We found the shiny!”

Stan let his eyebrows shoot upwards. “You found the shiny? Was it pretty?”

“Kinda!”

“Well, I’m glad.” He pointedly ignored Ford’s glare as he reached for his kid. He was surprised to find that the man’s arms tightened protectively, automatically, before he relaxed enough to pass her off. Stan smiled despite himself as the girl’s head came to rest against his shoulder. “Was it pretty, Uncle Ford?” he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“…Remarkably so. Though I must admit, it came as quite a shock, as I was given absolutely no forewarning to process such a sight.”

Really? Was all this because he cried just now? Stanley rolled his eyes. “Don’t see why you’d need it, but at least the two of you had fun, I guess.”

“That would imply a more welcome surprise.”

Stan set his jaw. “You sayin’ it’s bad?”

“No. No.” Ford shook his head vehemently and sighed, running a hand through his fluffy curls. “I just… I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, okay? Least of all—

“Finish that thought later.” Stanley cut the man off, turning slightly away. He would have turned and walked away completely, but it wasn’t as though he had anywhere to actually go, other than his car. Can’t just invite yourself into another man’s house. Not when you’re arguin’ with him. He heard the man shuffle his feet.

“Right. Right. You’re right. Apologies.” Stanley’s nostrils flared briefly and he jerked his chin in acknowledgement. Even he could hear the distinct lack of sincerity.

“You’ve got glitter in your hair.” He mumbled, running a hand across Stella’s head to pick out the flecks. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Stanford aggressively muss his hair and shake his head back and forth, making his hair stand on end. Stan snorted.

“It appears the leprecorn makes its own form of dust. Awful creatures.” Stan was just gonna ignore that.

What in the fuck was a leprecorn, though? No, y’know what, I’m not gonna give him the satisfaction of asking. He settled for eyeing the man until he caught on and had the decency to look sheepish.

“Well. I suppose we should go inside?” Stanley let out a noncommittal grunt but followed behind him all the same.

≈

Ford led his brother through to his—he supposed it could be called a living room, now that he’d removed his equipment—and gestured to a chair. Maybe he should invest in furniture other than his book-laden worktable. It doesn’t matter. He reminded himself as his brother pulled out an empty chair and plopped the child down. He forced a stilted smile; it was bad form to fight your long-estranged brother in front of his toddler, that much he knew.

“Stella, sweetie, I’m gonna go get your crayons ‘n stuff out of the car, okay? Think you can hang tight for a minute?”

“ ‘Kay.” Stan gave Ford a vague jerk of the chin as he walked out. He followed his twin outside, taking care not to slam the door.

“Stanley—”

“Alright, here’s how this is gonna go. Make my kid feel bad about her hands and I’ll punch you in the face. Got it?”

“Punch me in the face? What the actual fuck, Stan? Are you out of your mind? First you treat this like some kind of a—some kind of a joke, and then you have the audacity to talk about me?” Ford bristled.

“Joking? You think I’m joking? I—”

“You turned this into some sort of a game for you to play, because you can’t—”

“My child is not a game, and don’t you dare act otherwise.”

“Stanley, you’re the one who—”

“Oh, I get it. You’re pissed off because I didn’t walk in and go ‘oh, gee. Hello, Ford, this is my daughter and guess what? She’s got hands just like you!’ Well, I’m not gonna make ‘em into a big deal for her, because they’re not. I’m not gonna teach her otherwise by making a big deal about it and having you or anyone else react badly to it, like you are now, and showing her ‘oh, there’s something wrong with this,’ because there isn’t. She’s absolutely perfect the way she is.” Stanley paused, running a hand along his face before gesturing towards Ford, the fingers of one hand straightened and pressed together as he pointed to him. “It’s not a big deal, and people really don’t give a shit about anyone else unless you make them care. Everyone’s more worried about themselves than anyone else. See? You didn’t even notice she’s got the same hands as you because you were too busy worrying about what a baby would think of you. As if she cares. So don’t… Y’know, no one in the diner said anything about your hands, either, ‘cause nobody made it into a big deal for them to notice in the first place. So don’t… Don’t even go there.” With a glare, he turned away from Ford and fumbled in his pocket to unlock the car.

Ford was speechless. His eyes followed Stanley slowly as he rummaged through the backseat, reemerging with a fistful of half-used crayons and various crumpled sheets of paper. He kicked the door shut with his heel and silently stalked inside.

Ford leaned against the side of the car, his hands folded in front of him. He stared down. The door creaked, then slammed shut behind his brother. Damn it. Had he just fucked up? It was likely. He didn’t want to think about that. So Stanley was more cognizant of things than he’d initially thought. It was unsettling. Why, to think that he was capable of any sort of rational thought or foresight?

He was wrong, though. Stanford had never thought poorly of his hands until they’d entered school-age territory and his brother’s nonchalance was drowned out by absolutely everyone else. The world was full of cruel children who grew up to become cruel, ostracizing adults, who then went on to complete the cycle and produce more cruel offspring. Nothing would change. She’d be just as shunned as he was, with the added insult of her father’s casual disregard. It wouldn’t make a difference.

Maybe it would. Had his own parents made it into a non-issue? Or had they preemptively consoled him about his unformed insecurities, as if they themselves needed the reassurance? Who was he kidding? His father didn’t care about consoling him. The man had always made it clear that he had the utmost disdain disinterest in his children, especially if they “served no use” to him. Like Stanley. The number of digits mattered as little to that man as his sons did combined. Fuck. His gaze trailed up towards the front door. He still wasn’t sure that his brother was doing the child any favors. He still wanted to punch him. But why, though? Was he still mad at him? He couldn’t tell. His feelings of anger and betrayal, followed by guilt and shame had colored his perception of the man for years. They probably wouldn’t fade any time soon. Would that I were colorblind, in that respect. He snorted. He should probably head inside.

Ford eased the door open and shut, then headed directly for the kitchen. I’m not avoiding Stanley. Really, he wasn’t—he just needed to clean the mess he’d made earlier. Truly. After all, he did promise to inspect the fridge. He’d also need a list of supplies to gather from the grocery store. From the looks of the fridge, he really hadn’t properly handled grocery shopping in quite some time. Despite his resolve, the sounds from his living room—he’d really have to get used to calling it that, he supposed—lured him to distraction. Faint giggles mixed alongside his brother’s low voice, his words blurred and obscured by the soft, gentle tone he spoke in. Ford didn’t think he’d ever heard Stanley speak so gently. He’d always been entirely rough-and-tumble in his mannerisms, with the boisterous voice to go along with it. He couldn’t imagine Stanley doing anything gently. It was disconcerting. He found himself leaning against the kitchen threshold, peeking across the hallway into the room. Stanley sat hunched, leaning over the table as he watched the child scribble over a sheet of paper. A grin broke across Stanley’s face.

“That’s real good, kiddo. Real nice.”

“Yeah!” The child beamed up at her father, climbing to her knees to bounce in the chair. She picked up a stubby red crayon. “This is gonna be a chicken.”

“A chicken, huh? I bet it’s gonna be the best chicken.”

“Mmm hmm.” She scribbled what looked like a jagged-edged blob from Ford’s vantage point, then dropped the crayon, satisfied. “Daddy, how do you draw a horse?”

Stanley sat up a bit, blinking. “Oh, geez, I dunno, sweetie. Daddy can’t draw as good as you can.” It took all o Dord’s willpower to refrain from correcting him from a distance. “I mean, it’s kinda round like an egg, but with legs?” Yikes, Stan.

“Egg legs?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” Okay, no. That was decidedly not going to fly with Ford. He inched closer to the pair, but stopped short in the proper doorway. Such an intrusion was likely unwelcome. He shouldn’t intrude. But then again, his niece did want to learn to draw a horse… Oh, fuck it, it’s my house. I can go where I want. He eased his way inside the room, clearing his throat.

“I could…help you. To draw a horse. If…If that’s okay.” His eyes eased over to Stanley as he did his best to affect an air of nonchalance, which quickly dissipated as he noticed the smile fade from his brother’s face and the tension ease back in. Shit. Stanley remained quiet for a long beat.

“Whaddya say, Stel?”

“Yeah!” the baby chirped. Ford let out a small sigh of relief. He sidled up to the table why Stanley rearranged the girl’s papers and crayons. He cocked an eyebrow. These weren’t coloring pages, or even blank paper, like he’d initially assumed. These were the backs of various flyers and menus.

His observation was clearly unwelcome, judging by the glare he felt melting the side of his face. He cleared his throat uncomfortably as he leaned into the table. “Let’s see,” he mumbled, “first, we’ll need to work on the body. He took his index finger and pantomimed tracing an oval. She doesn’t want to draw a realistic horse, right? Certainly not. This was a toddler. He watched her scribble a lumpy, oblong shape where he’d traced his finger. Nope. No realistic horses here. And now, you can add in the legs and tail…” Three roughly-hewn lines descended from the lump. “And—” Stanford was cut off by a giggle as his niece wiggled in her seat, reaching for something. A pink crayon? She hastily scribbled over the partially-finished equine, then drew in a smiling face. Does it even have a head? The girl climbed down from the chair to run the few short steps to Stan. She shoved the paper at him, then preoccupied herself with balancing her weight on the leg he’d crossed over his knee.

“Ow. Let’s see what we—ow. Ow. Ow. Okay.” He made a show of examining the paper. “Seriously, Stella, that kinda hurts.”

“Sorry.”

“S’okay, sweetie. Hey, is this a pig? I thought you were gonna draw a horse!”

“No,” she huffed, slapping a small hand against his knee. “It’s a pink horse. ‘Cause it’s magic.”

Ford was appalled. It wasn’t even finished.

“Oh, I get it now.” He hummed appreciatively. “I have to say, this is one for the Stella Book.

The child beamed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!” She began to chant, bouncing on Stanley’s leg once more. Ford took a wary step back. What in the hell was happening here? Was she normally this active? Was that normal? She’d been much quieter earlier, and when he’d first seen her. Stanley stood and lifted the child, who quickly complained, little legs flailing.

“I wanna get down!”

“I know, kiddo. We’re gonna go outside so you can run around, okay?”

Ford jolted. That was decidedly not a good idea. “Stanley, it’s not safe—”

“You think I can’t watch my own kid?” Something dangerous lingered behind his eyes.

“No. No, I mean—”

“I’ll watch her. Like I always do. I saw you freak out about the woods. I won’t let her go that far out. It’ll be fine.” He gave the child in his arms a quick heft. “Now, c’mon. Let’s burn off all that sugar from breakfast. Hit you faster’n I thought it would.” He headed for the front door, with Ford on his heels like a distraught puppy. This wasn’t a good idea. This was terrible. He’d have to extend the boundary lines out much further than they already were. It’d be a pain to gather the necessary supplies, what with Stanley repeatedly leaving the house without any sort of protection to begin with—

He was brought out of his thoughts by a shriek. His body tensed and he reared up, his posture harried and defensive as his wild eyes darted around their surroundings. "Oh." It was just Stella. Of course. "Running in circles?"

Stan grunted. "Doesn't take much. I lucked out on that one." He stepped off of the porch and stood in the browned grass, feigning an attempt to grab the child as she zoomed by. She looks happy. I guess that’s what’s important here. Peals of laughter filled the air as Ford watched her dart back towards his brother, who scooped her up and held her upside down by the ankles. He doubled over, blowing raspberries against her cheek.

He put on a good front, but Stanford could see the quiet resignation in the lines of Stan’s face. He may not have seen his brother in years, but he knew that look. He saw it often enough in the mirror, if he cared enough to pay particular attention to his reflection. No, Stanley’s face is different now. Certainly not so much that they weren’t easily recognized as twins, but Stanley’s face bore the evidence of several years of hard living. He heard his brother chuckle, bringing his attention back to the identical stranger in his front yard. He doesn’t have to stay a stranger, though. Ford couldn't help the hesitant smile that played at the corners of his lips. Maybe these things could be resolved. It would certainly take time, but he hoped despite himself that the issues between he and Stanley were not insurmountable.

Stanley put the child down and cheered on her attempt at a cartwheel before sidling back up to the porch, leaning a respectable distance away from the other man. Ford held back a sigh, opting to worry his lip between his teeth for a few long moments.

“So…” He trailed away. No. If Stanley had wanted to share anything with him, he would have. As it were, he seemed more than willing to ignore him indefinitely, were that an option. Ford let out a sigh after all.

“No, Ford. You can bring the Spanish Inquisition later.” Ford gaped.

“I wasn’t… At least allow me to ask a few questions. I’m completely in the dark here.”

Stan sighed in response. “Fine.”

“So…” Ford drawled again, searching for a question Stan would likely answer. “How have you been?” Ford winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Stan let out a dry laugh.

“Yikes. Busy, I guess.” He inclined his head towards Stella. “Those things take a lot outta ya.”

“I can imagine.” Ford began drumming his fingers against the side of the porch in a nervous staccato. “Is it…where was she born? Please don’t say New Jersey.” He added the last bit as an afterthought. Stan snorted.

“Hell, no. She was born in San Fran. June 22nd of ’87.” That fond smile returned.

“She’s quite small.” The smile left again.

“Yeah, well, not everybody can be tall, Ford.” He shifted, his hackles rising as Ford raised a hand in placation.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Stanley, really. She’s just…smaller than I thought?”

Stan sighed. “Yeah.”

Ford had to get this back on track before Stanley shut down completely. “I take it you were there when she was born.”

“You kidding me? I wouldn’t ‘a missed it for all the money in the world. Almost punched the orderly who wouldn’t let me through.” Ford could see that happening.

“Do you have any pictures? I mean… What’s the Stella Book?” He hoped that was amenable.

A long beat of silence followed. Ford brought his hands together and cracked his knuckles, rhythmically lacing and unlacing his fingers as he fidgeted. “I’d love to see what she looked like.”

Stan leaned forward, as though he contemplated not responding, then nodded. “Yeah. Can’t believe you were payin’ attention to all that.” He mumbled under his breath, lingering for a moment longer against the side of the porch before pushing off to amble towards the Stanleymobile.

Well, why wouldn’t I pay attention? Stanford’s eyes tracked his brother as he made his way back to the porch. That car has certainly seen better days. Stanley returned, a worn notebook tucked protectively under his arm. He sat down on the front step, his chin tucked close to his chest as his fingers passed almost reverently over the frayed spiral-bound notebook in his lap. Ford eased himself down beside him, sparing a quick glance at the child currently tugging up his grass. Good. Less to have to have cut come spring. I should probably invest in a goat. He turned his attention back downwards as the notebook was carefully placed into his lap.

“Here.” His brother’s voice was gruff and he quickly looked away. Why was Stanley so uncomfortable? What was there to be uncomfortable about? It was just a baby book, albeit an unconventionally bound one. Ford studied the nondescript front, letting a finger trail along the warped and frayed edge.

“Well? Open it, if you’re gonna.” Stanley groused, one hand on the back of his neck as he stared down at the bottom step.

“…Right.” Ford thought it wise to hold his tongue for once. He cracked open the notebook and a smile slowly spread across his features. “D’awwww,” he teased, gently nudging the man beside him.

“Give it back if you don’t like it.”

Ford blinked. “That’s… That’s not what I meant. At all.”

“Yeah, well…”

Ford paused. Should he give the notebook back? Or would that be considered an insult? He couldn’t understand why Stanley was so keyed up over something so inconsequential. His curiosity won out, ultimately, and he began to pore over the pages in front of him. He studied a slightly younger Stan cradling a little pink bundle in his arms, looking equal parts lost, terrified, and thrilled. In another photo, his brother’s eyes watered as the newborn in his arms opened her eyes, presumably for the first time, and stared up at him. Beside it, tears streamed down his brother’s scruffy, bruised cheek as a miniscule hand pulled his pinky to her mouth. Was that a black eye he spotted? Why is he bruised up here?

“Quit lookin’ at the sappy ones. The nurse took those.” Stan interrupted with a grunt, unable to hide the affection in his voice despite its brusqueness. Ford ignored his directions and laughed at his brother pulling faces as an unimpressed and sleepy infant ignored him. He watched Stanley’s expression shift to sheer panic in the next photo as a tiny fist latched on to his long hair while a second pair of hands entered the frame, trying to coax the little hand open. I bet that must’ve been a handful. Ford snorted to himself.

He shuffled through more photos, stamping down his feelings of concern as the buckled notebook paper crackled with each turn from the cheap glue that bound the photos to its pages. He paused to frown at one photograph in particular. Stella was strapped into the backseat of the Stanleymobile, seatbelts crisscrossing across her as she slept, suckling on a hospital-issued pacifier.

“You took her home without a car seat.”

Stan had the gall to look affronted. “She’s fine. Look at her, she’s buckled up twice and she’s covered in pillows. Obviously she’s fine, since she’s right over there, and all.”

“Stanley, it’s important that young children have car seats to ensure proper safety. And that’s one pillow.” He scolded. Stanley rolled his eyes and turned away, mumbling under his breath.

“Since when did you become a baby expert? She’s got a car seat now, ain’t she?” Ford frowned, but bit back on his reply. He needed to change the subject to something…something else.

“What’ve you been up to? I mean, you’re living in San Francisco? That must be nice.” Ford couldn’t help the hopeful tone that crept into his voice. Stanley shook his head.

“Nah, Stella was just born there.”

“So where are you now?”

“Gravity Falls, Oregon.”

Ford let out a huff. “You know what I meant.”

Stanley shifted his weight, resting his arms on his thighs as he stared out. “All over the place. Been moving around a lot, picking up odd jobs here and there.”

“Jobs like what?”

“Does it really matter?”

“I’d like to think so.”

Stanley sighed through his nose, a long, drawn-out noise. “Just… Little odd shit here and there when I find it. Nothin’ special, nothin’ in particular.” He shrugged.

“But where are you living now?”

“Ford. Just here ‘n there, like I said, I move around a lot. Never stay in one place too long. Doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does.” Why wouldn’t he just tell him?

“Not to me. Just… Let it go, alright? Please.”

Ford blinked away his frustration. “Alright. Okay.” Something was wrong. He would find out what. Of that, he was certain.

“Sometimes I box.” Stanley added after several long moments.

“You still keep it up?”

Stan shrugged again. “It’s what I’m good at.”

“…Right.” Ford looked back down and flipped the page of the notebook, causing a lone sheet of paper to flutter out. He caught the page and held it out, frowning as he turned it upside down. “And what’s this supposed to be?”

“Shit if I know. She was like two.” Ford flipped the page over. Sure enough, in the margin of a diner’s menu, Stanley had carefully written Purple Cloud Thing by Stella, 1y 8mo. He put the sheet of paper back and continued to flip through the pages. Bath time in what looked like a dingy, generic tub. What might’ve been first steps or a first attempt at standing, with Stella clutching a stiff, mass-produced bed spread. Stella on a green patterned carpet with what looked like spaghetti in her hair and across her face, and a plastic microwave dinner tray in front of her.

Ford swallowed. His tongue was thick and dry. He flipped through more pictures of Stella grinning from her backseat seatbelt prison. “She’s absolutely adorable.” He managed a chuckle despite his growing alarm. These were all motel rooms. His brother’s child was growing up from the backseat of a car. Fuck. His worries were worse than he anticipated. His brother was homeless. But you already figured as much. That his brother had a child, who was, by extension, also homeless, left him with a sharp ache he hadn’t been prepared for. Couldn’t have been prepared for. He turned the notebook’s cramped pages and stared without seeing as his mind raced, his eyes unfocused as they trailed slowly over iterations of his homeless niece’s face. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

He heard Stanley shift, letting out a puff of air. “Spit it out.”

“I—What?”

“I can see that brain ‘a yours goin’ a mile a minute. Whatever it is, just go on and ask it already. You’re gonna do it, anyway, so go on.”

“Where were these pictures taken?” Ford saw his brother’s hackles rise in his peripheral vision. “I mean, where were you living here?” he quickly amended.

“Don’t really remember. Like I said, we move around a lot. Don’t make this into a big deal.” Stanley warned.

“Can’t I just want to know what you’ve been doing for the past several years? Is that so unreasonable?”

“Kinda, yeah, considering.”

That stung. That really stung. Ford wasn’t sure how to respond to that, or if he should. He’s probably right, though. Ford slumped slightly and leaned forward on his haunches, sparing a glance at his brother from the corner of his eye. The man had taken to hiding behind his hair, sitting similarly hunched.

Ford let out a huff to cut through the silence.

“I still forgot to get groceries.”

Stan snorted. “Seriously? You just... You had the ability, but you just managed to not buy food? Do you have anything?”

“I…may have used the last of the viable options this morning in my unsuccessful attempt to prepare a suitable breakfast.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ford.”

“You say that as though it’s completely unusual.”

“You think it’s not?” Stan shook his head as though to clear his mind. “Y’know what? Never mind. Just…get in the car.”

“What?”

“Whaddya mean, ‘what?’ You got a car?”

Ford wrinkled his nose. “Well, no. You know that.”

“Then I’m drivin’ you to the grocery store.” He paused, eyeing Ford oddly. “You do know how t’get us there, right?”

Ford sighed. “Yes. Yes, I do. I can get us there.” Stan wasn’t going to let him live his isolation down, was he?

“I’ll hold you to that.” Stan buried his hands deep into the pockets of his ratty jacket and stood, various joints cracking and popping as he moved. Both twins let out a hiss. How had that thing not fallen apart by now? Ford thought it impossible for the thing not to have dry rotted by now. No, this one is different. There isn’t a…a burn hole in the shoulder. One that I put there.

Ford’s expression quickly darkened in shame. He did that. He’d branded his brother. He’d—

“Well?” Stanley shifted his weight from foot to foot, keys jingling in his pocket as he wiggled his hands in agitation. “Are we going or not?”

“Right.” Stanford stood with a mild grimace of his own. They’d have to choose better seating arrangements in the future, though he’d have to worry himself with that later. For now, he’d focus more on keeping his foot out of his mouth and the tenuous relationship with his brother afloat. That, and not getting them lost on the way to the supermarket. It really had been a while.

This took a looot longer than I wanted it to, but life happens that way sometimes! As an aside, I should make a playlist of the songs I keep putting in the chapter titles and summaries. That would make sense. Yeah. Also, I somehow managed to post this to here but forgot to post to AO3. Too busy getting ready for Valentine's Day, I guess.

#Gravity Falls #Reverse Portal AU #angst #stanley pines #stanford pines #single dad stanley pines #THCM

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