crap parents

anonymous asked:

I wish the LT fandom could all live together in a big community and be supportive of each other. Like... Go work out together motivated by Sportacus, and go eat ice cream together and pretend to be Robbie, get coffee at random times... And like, if somebody wanted to try something new (experiment with sexuality, clothing, hairstyle, etc.) we would be supportive and the only ones there to give feedback. None of that "I can't disappoint my parents," crap. I just think it'd be good.

Who wants to establish and help run a Lazytown themed commune with me because I’m 100% for and about this wonderful idea… ???

can we talk about how 10/11 year old alec was already getting crap from his parents about not being good enough. he was so young yet instead of getting built up and praised by his parents when he achieved things, he was being beaten down, being told that he needed to do better. imagine the first time he hit the bullseye on the practise targets with one of his arrows, imagine how happy he was yet his parents told him every arrow he shot should of hit the bullseye, not just one. imagine how much time he spent in the training room, practising relentlessly in hopes to please his parents. he spent all of those years from then up until now having his confidence in his shadowhunter abilities knocked, his self esteem taking hit after hit every time his parents said “you’re not good enough”. and now finally, alec is breaking away from his parents criticism and realising his own worth and I’m so so proud of him.


Commissioned by @unashamed-shipper! Here’s a soulmate!AU for you Audrey! With permission, I think I might actually want to continue this! As a longer one-shot or a mini-series! Free of charge, of course! (it was hard to stay within the word count and this seemed like a good cut off lol)

Natsu thinks that buying flowers would be a whole lot simpler if he could actually see what he’s buying. Sure, the flower looks nice, but he has no idea what color it is. Not that knowing would matter much. He can’t see color, after all—no one can, not until they meet their quote unquote soulmate. Natsu thinks that’s just a load of crap that his parents made up to make him feel better about being colorblind. He wishes they would just tell him the truth about it, instead of lying to make him feel better. Sure, having someone be his other half—his better half—sounds wonderful and thrilling, but it’s all just a big lie. He can handle seeing in shades of gray for the rest of his life. What he can’t handle is holding out hope for someone that doesn’t exist.

Huffing to himself, Natsu releases the flower he’s been looking at—some sort of rose, he thinks—and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. He doesn’t know why he makes this so hard for himself—why he spends so much time weaving the isles of Nova, the little flower shop only a few blocks down from his apartment. He always ends up buying the same flowers for his mother anyway. Hours and hours of walking through this shop and he always buys the same damn thing.

If he could see in color, this shop would probably be rather cozy. There’s greenery everywhere: vines hanging from hooks on the walls, row and rows of bright flowers, a galaxy painted on the ceiling in great swirls and littered with stars. If only he could appreciate all of it. Instead, this shop is dark. The shades of gray are too much and the smells hurt his nose.

Today is different though. He walked into the shop expecting to see Sorano or Yukino sitting up at the front—maybe even Loke, on a good day—but the first thing he saw upon entering the shop was someone new. A small, pretty thing with a smile that lit up the room when she saw him. For a moment, he lost his breath, unable to even think as her eyes met his and her lips curved up at the edges beautifully. Something bright had flickered across his vision for just a second and he stumbled, careening into a shelf of flower pots and nearly knocking them to the ground.

By the time he looked up again she was back to watering a small lemon tree sitting on the front counter.

Heading over to a row of large flowers, Natsu looks for the familiar shade of gray that he always gets. It’s a decently light color, probably something yellow or pink. His mother never seems to complain about them, so he thinks he’s been doing a pretty good job. After four years, he’d like to think his mother would tell him if she didn’t like the flowers.

Though, maybe that’s her trying to spare his feeling—just like his colorblindness.

Natsu sighs and grabs the pretty flowers, cradling them gently in his palm. Casting a quick glance towards the girl at the register, his grip tightens on the stems unconsciously, his palms suddenly feeling clammy with sweat. As if she can feel his gaze, the girl’s head snaps up, her eyes immediately locking with his, her lips twitching.

There’s another flash in his vision, this time accompanied by a shock of pain in the base of his skull. Natsu rips his gaze away from hers, eyes squeezing shut tightly as he grits his teeth, hissing through them. The girl gasps in time with him, but he can’t bring himself to look at her and find out why. He’s not sure what’s happening to him. Nothing like this has ever happened before—not even once in his twenty-two years of life.

It shouldn’t physically hurt to look at someone.

The pain is gone just as suddenly as it was there, almost as if it never happened.

Natsu releases a shaky breath, the sound oddly loud in the silent shop. Swallowing thickly, Natsu steels his nerves and shakes away his confusion. He can worry about it later. A moment later, he finds himself standing in front of the register, a dirt speckled counter the only thing separating him from her.

She doesn’t look at him as steps up to the counter, her gaze focused on the flowers in his hand, and something tugs at his gut uncomfortably, his throat tightening with some emotion he doesn’t understand.

“Peonies,” she says suddenly, glancing up at him. Her eyes lock with Natsu’s shocked ones and suddenly his heart rate skyrockets, the muscle trying to tear straight from his chest. He holds her gaze, the back of his head beginning to throb with pain unexpectedly. This time he doesn’t look away. The girl winces, but holds his gaze with hers, her eyes suddenly brighter than they were before.

The pain travels to his temple, but he ignores it. “What?” he murmurs back after several long seconds, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth.

Her lips quirk up into a smile that drags the breath from his lungs. “Peonies,” she repeats, nodding to the flowers in his hand. He doesn’t look away and neither does she. “They mean good fortune and a happy marriage,” she explains to him. He can barely hear her over the blood rushing through his ears, his heart beginning to beat out of control.

The pain behind his eyes is burning him and he can feel tears beginning to gather in the corner of his eyes. He bites his tongue harshly, attempting to ignore the intense feeling. Her eyes are glossy as well, but doesn’t have the faintest idea why.

“It’s my parent’s anniversary,” he blurts, sucking in a ragged breath as the pain doubles it’s efforts, nearly driving him over the edge.

She exhales a shaky little breath as she reaches out for the flowers to wrap them. “Well, I’m sure they’ll love this.” Her fingers brush against his, barely ghosting over his skin and there’s a sharp sting behind his eyes—almost like a shock. He grits his teeth to keep from crying out, his eyes slamming shut as the sting tears through his almost violently. She gasps, a strangled sound leaving her throat, and Natsu forces his eyes to open—to make sure she’s okay.

The first thing he sees are pale pink peonies.

anonymous asked:

i saw cazigan and baby in the same sentence and i need to know more please. the love would be so real for that baby oh my goodness. please bless me with this

Oh I’m so excited anon - you have no idea! I never thought I’d get to…. share Cazigan baby headcanons with the world. Oh my gosh, okay here you go:


When Mor finds out she’s pregnant, she freaks. No one’s home and she ends up curled up in the bathroom on the floor next to the toilet with a thousand and one thoughts going through her head: Her family treated her like shit, now she’s going to have to avoid doing the same to her kid. She knows she’d never be the way her parents were to her, but the worry is irrationally there anyway just to taunt her. And crap, her parents are gonna find out, aren’t they? And what if they try to take the kid from her and auction it off like they did her? They’d never get past Cass and Az to begin with if they even tried, but oh my gosh - what if they tried??? And - shit. Cass and Az. Who’s kid even is this?? She sleeps with both of them. They’ve been together for years and all love each other, but she has no idea which one the child belongs to. Will they care? Will they want to know? Does she want to know? Az doesn’t even really want kids - fuck.

Cassian comes home first and finds Mor a weeping, sobbing mess in the bathroom. He scoops her up and she spills everything to him. Cassian, bless him, doesn’t break once or give anything away while she jabbers on. Seeing him - suddenly, she’s more concerned with him and Az’s reactions than her parents. Finally, Cass stops her, taking her hands in his and kissing them.

“Stop, Mor - just stop,” he says and she narrows in on him, focusing on the hazel of his eyes. “What do you want to do?”

Mor swallows. And she knows the mascara is streaming down her face, but she doesn’t care. Looking at Cassian and the way he’s looking at her right now, how much he’s caring for her - it’s the same way she feels about the little bean growing inside her. “I want to keep it,” she says. Cass smiles and smoothly replies, “Then we’ll keep it,” no questions asked.

Mor feels better after that, but she’s still anxious about telling Az. Cass insists it’ll be fine. He goes on cooking for Mor and generally pampering her the rest of the day as though all is totally normal until their shadowsinger love comes home, flying inside the open doors of the House of Wind. And immediately - Mor knows he knows something. The shadows are thick, like they’ve been whispering in his ear all day.

They sit him down together, and tell the love of their life what’s happened. Azriel is surprised at first and kind of needs a minute to process, but one look at Mor and the tears threatening her eyes and he’s holding her in his arms. Cassian comes round behind Mor and finishes out the embrace. “We made a baby,” Az says sweetly, pulling Mor’s chin up to look at him. Mor pulls back a little horrified. “But that’s just it,” and she looks between her two men, “I don’t know… but which one of you….” Azriel shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. We still made a baby. All of us.” Mor breaks out into a fresh wave of sobs, Azriel chuckling as he pulls her back into his chest and looks at Cassian. And that’s that: the three of them are having a baby.

They never do find out which one of them fathered the child. From that first day forward, it just doesn’t matter. Both of them take turns equally spending time with her both separately and together. They make sure that Rhys knows - if one of them is out for work, the other stays and that’s final. He doesn’t question it once.

The first trimester is all food. Cassian in the kitchen figuring out which spices to avoid and which ones Mor craves. And when he’s done, Azriel swaps out and finds something for dessert. Mor eats her way through every market place in Velaris looking for the right kind of chicken and chocolate cream sauce. They spend the most time wondering what the baby will look like, what pieces of them it will have, if it will be a boy or a girl. And Mor goes out shopping constantly to get clothes. She doesn’t really get sick - because of course Mor wouldn’t get sick while pregnant, she’s too damn perfect for her own good - but man, she’s a crier. When Azriel comes home with a onesie that has beautiful Illyrian wings sewn from red and gold and black lace on the back, she turns into a puddle of goo on the floor - it’s too much, Azriel brought her baby clothes!

The second trimester - the bump appears. It’s so small at first and it’s right front and center. Cassian and Azriel (and okay, occasionally Rhys) are the only ones allowed to touch it. And they do - constantly. They hold Mor at night when she sleeps, one wrapped around Mor’s back with his hands resting on the side of her tummy while the other sleeps in front of her and rubs circles over it until Mor falls sleep. Cassian loves to talk to the bump. He talks all day long to that thing, telling stories about its mom when she was a wild thing fresh out of the Hewn City and free, all the craziness he and Az got up to with Uncle Rhys as kids, and all the things they’re going to do together when that little one arrives finally. Mor loves listening to him talk about it. She’ll sit there all day if Cass will let her and fall in and out of sleep while he talks. Sometimes he even sings to it in that rich baritone voice he has. Azriel doesn’t talk much to the bump. But when he and Mor snuggle in to sleep for the night, or during the day when Cassian has to go out, he loves lifting her shirts up and kissing her stomach - all the stretch marks and places where the skin is pulled tight. It makes Mor feel beautiful. It makes her feel loved. When he’s done, Azriel stays hovering over her between her legs or resting at her side, and slides his hands up to grip hers and give them a tight squeeze. The baby always kicks when he does this much like when Cassian talks or sings, because it can sense his two dads there. Cassian’s favorite is when he comes home and finds Azriel in this position over Mor, asleep with his head gently on Mor’s stomach while she dozes with her head on the pillow.

The second trimester is also when Mor gets kinky af, and no ma’am I’m not even sorry about this one. She knows that stomach of hers is gonna get big in a hurry, so she’s ready to bang Cass and Az to the mortal lands and back while she still can. And oh do they oblige her. Being naked in bed with her two Illyrian men and that little tummy of hers between them is the best feeling ever.

The third trimester is a pamper fest. Mor’s feet hurt. Mor’s back hurts. Mor’s hips hurt. Everything basically hurts and everything is also swollen and damn, why isn’t this kid here yet??? Cass carries her in and out of the bathtub, rubs her feet, and is constantly massaging her scalp to keep her comfortable. Cassian gives the best massages known to man. Mor has at least three a day, if not more by the final month. And Azriel is always finding pillows for her to sleep with. She wants to stay tucked between just the two of them, but after a point, she needs the soft pillows around her and relents to Azriel’s pleading. And she sleeps. Mother above, Mor can sleep. Morning, noon, and night she sleeps and keeps her from getting too cranky over how much everything hurts and how HUGE her stomach suddenly got. (Seriously, when did it get so BIG?!?!!)

She stays home for labor and delivery. Those baths Cassian gave her put the idea in mind to have a home birth, so takes her time going through the contractions, Azriel letting her squeeze his hands while Cassian flips and freaks out about ICE. (”Where’s the ice?? Why don’t we have more! Half of it has MELTED AND MOR NEEDS MORE ICE DAMNIT”) Azriel has to shoo him from the room to cool down for a bit because it’s freaking Mor out, but when he comes back, he’s better. He didn’t find the ice, but he found ice cream! And that makes Mor laugh because, “Look Mor - ice cream!” When she feels ready to push, they carry her into the tub and fill it with just enough water. There’s healers present, but the pool is large and it’s Cassian and Azriel who hold Mor and guide her through it, holding her hands and her tummy while she pushes. She tries once and her head falls back onto Az’s shoulder and she looks at him and he just knows now she’s freaking the freak out. “You can do it. You got out. You can do anything, even this,” he tells her. She nods. “Even this.” And then another contraction hits, she’s pushing and yelling and squeezing Azriel’s hand so hard while she focuses on his beautiful green and brown eyes to stay calm, and Cassian is whooping because “There’s a head!! And shoulders, and hands!! Cauldron - it has fingers!” “It had better have fingers!” Mor hisses, but Cass doesn’t register the comment because he’s watching his son be born.

A son.

Shit. They have a son.

And he’s beautiful. Cassian catches him as he comes out in the water and the healers help him clean the baby boy while Az kisses Mor’s brow and cleans the sweat from her skin. The shadows slid around Mor in a smooth hug that relaxes any remaining tension away from her.

When they put the baby in Mor’s arms, every doubt flies. Every fear and worry she had, gone. The baby somehow managed to have blonde hair and lighter skin, the only sign of its Illyrian heritage being the nubs at its back that will grow into wings one day and the beautiful hazel eyes. She had worried, even after Cass and Az’s reassurances, that who had fathered it would be a problem still. But the baby looks more like her than either of them, so she supposes it really won’t be a problem. They’d never know anyhow. And both of them are beaming at the little thing with such pride, that Mor feels complete - looking up at both her lovers and the little bat they made in her arms. Mor has all of her boys now and she wouldn’t have it any other way.


Mister Fluffy

Summary: Alphonse was determined to break out of the hospital and achieve the one thing he had dreamed of doing ever since being trapped in the armor. And Lieutenant Hawkeye was going to help him do it. Parental!RizaAl fluff involving a daring escape plan and a very wonderful, magical, fluffy cat.

Read on FFN // Read on AO3

A/N: So this 3,000+ word long fanfic began as an idea I had yesterday that was only meant to be about 300 words long. But then, instead of just crying about Al, I began crying about the beautiful parental relationship he had with Riza. Honestly, Parental!RizaAl (idk if that’s the name or not) is super underrated, and that disappoints me. But I’m determined to have content, even if I have to make it myself, dammit.

This takes place about a week and a half after the Promised Day, before everyone has gotten out of the hospital, and before Al has gotten his hair cut.

I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Tell me what you think!

“Lieutenant Hawkeye, I need your help,” Alphonse Elric rolled his wheelchair closer to the Lieutenant’s bed, where she sat with a light pink shawl across her shoulders, reading a novel. The wheels of his chair squeaked as he rolled them across the tile floor, and the noise prompted Hawkeye to look up.

“Help with what, Al?” She smiled as she looked at him, and placed the book down by her side to get a better look at Al’s face. She had a habit of doing that, ever since the first time she’d laid her eyes on the boy’s new body. And though Hawkeye was fantastic at hiding her emotions, Al could see her face light up at the sight of his.

“Something more important than anything I’ve ever done before,” Al continued, his face deadly serious as he looked up at the Lieutenant.

Keep reading

Man it feels good to be back at it!

This is an… extremely late prize for amanda-mcfarlane‘s sister, who wrote this lovely fic as an entry for the Valentine’s Day contest over at the AlMei group on dA.

Congrats, Ann! Your fic was absolutely lovely, and the win was well deserved!


Jack and Caiti hunt for treasure! (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧