Michael and you would honestly end up having the cutest chubbiest baby who had rolls upon rolls of soft pudgy baby skin and tiny fat hands and feeties and gosh was Michael not just so in love with yours and his little creation…he’d be so proud to see his son finish his entire bottle in the space of ten minutes while resting sleepily in his arms in the mancave, or whenever his round body would learn how to roll over on his play rug and showcase a happy gummy grin towards his daddy. and michael would get totally slated for giving his son the weirdest nicknames and being too infaturated with sparkly eyes to be punk rock anymore, but he would swap nothing in the world for the giggles he’d get once he came home yelling ‘where’s my baby sunshine?’ or ‘how is my little pudding man today?’ while pretendng to eat up his fat lil cheeks
Btw I am horrible with coming up with titles so don’t hold it over me.
Leave reviews and constructive criticism. (They are my life).
*Presents fic with a flourish* :
The halls were silent as a young Adrien Agreste slept sweetly in a room too big for a three year old, but being the son of a fashion mogul certainly had its perks. A wail pierced through the night as Mrs. Agreste jumped out of bed hearing the cries through the baby monitor on her bedside table and ran to her son’s spacious room. The baby boy was sobbing with fat round tears rolling down his cheeks. It was obvious he had had a nightmare. A lullaby and a kiss to the forehead later he was sound asleep and watched over by his mother who was sporting a slightly sad smile. She knew her son was meant for great things. But great things came at a great cost.
Ladybug stood at the top of a roof overlooking a silent neighborhood. She didn’t bat an eye when a dark figure silently slipped behind her. It was surprising how silent the cat impersonator could be especially with a baby carrier. The red and black clad superheroine turned around with a smile.
“Watch her,” Taylor warned, wading away from Adam. She
pushed herself up out of the pool, biceps flexing as she pulled herself out, kicking
her legs for an added push. She snatched a towel hanging from the back of a
chair and wrapped it around her waist, water streaming down her legs. “Don’t
let our baby drown, babe,” she trailed, quite cavalierly.