Impulsively made MCYT one-shots

The Braid

A/N: It was only a matter of time before I had to murder everybody's feelings. Including myself. I cried a little writing this.

AHEM can you tell I really like writing Techno and Tommy and completely ignoring the dynamics of the DSMP?

Trigger warnings: Implied major character death by illness.

To avoid confusion: Human family dynamic (again) pog? Everyone's fucking adopted because It do be fun to write that pog?

Edit: Fixed the chat paragraph (hopefully)

"Soon we'll have to get you a haircut, bud," Phil mentioned nonchalantly at dinner one night, sending the message to the youngest member of the family, a five-year-old Techno. His thin brown hair had reached his shoulders, waving slightly near the kid's ear. 10-year-old Wilbur sat next to him, slurping absent-mindedly at his spaghetti, but Techno stopped everything he was doing and gave Phil a stern look.

"No," Techno said with as much authority as a five-year-old could manage. Phil nearly choked on his food in surprise, holding back laughter for his young child's remark.

"Oh? Why not?" Phil asked.

"I like it long," Techno stated.

"It's not annoying to keep it long?" Phil raised an eyebrow, a smirk gracing his face.

"No. I like it." Techno repeated, looking back down at his spaghetti and twirling his fork around in the noodles to take a bite. Phil chuckled at this.

"It's not funny." little Techno scoffed. "It's just like your hair."

"Alright, but that means you have to take care of it," Phil said, taking a sip of his water. "I have to take care of my hair too."

"I brush and wash it," Techno said.

"Well, sometimes your hair gets super frazzled, and brushing it won't be enough," Phil explained. "Remind me tomorrow morning, and I'll show you how I do my hair, if ya want."

"Okay," Techno said. Phil wasn't sure how Techno felt about the situation yet. The kid he'd recently adopted had trouble expressing how he felt through facial expressions. If he didn't expressly tell you how he felt, he definitely wouldn't show it. He'd just have to wait until morning.

Phil was not expecting to be the one being woken from his sleep by tiny hands early in the morning. (His only weakness) Techno was excited. He looked up to Phil, he really did, and wanted to do his hair like Phil did. He hoped one day he could look like the elves in that one movie Phil liked so much, the Hobbit.

Techno watched avidly as Phil sleepily went through his daily hair routine, a cup of black coffee sat on the large bathroom counter next to some hair gel and dry shampoo. He soaked up every bit of information Phil gave him about caring for longer hair, although the hardly awake father had little to say through his yawns.

"Do you want me to do your hair next, Techno?" Phil asked, once he was done. The brunet nodded, sitting down on the lid of the toilet as Phil went through the steps again. By the end of it, they both had smooth, silky, and most importantly (to the younger boy) shiny hair that looked nice. Techno felt nice. He asked if Phil could help him do his hair for school the next day. His eyes lit up when his father said yes.

The next day, Techno walked into school, his hair shiny and new feeling, with the slight scent of lavender. He was quite proud of his hair, and was not afraid to show every kindergartener in his class who had the best style. He never said so with words, but the way he'd occasionally fidget with a strand or pat down the top of his head for stray hairs said all you needed to know. Recess that day was interesting, to say the least.