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#the kidfic
mayasaura · 7 months
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so fucking funny to me when people talk about tlt setting like everyone in the whole society is sorted into being either a necromancer or a cavalier. like yes necromancy is an inborn trait. but cavalier? that's a wholeass job. that's a career. assigned butler at birth
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shadowtriovibes · 8 months
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the train ain't even left the station
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Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
Rating: G
Word Count: 2K
Summary: request: "If you're up for it I'd love to see a small lil fic of Sebastian sending his child off to Hogwarts for the very first time! Like maybe Sebastian is telling them about his adventures with Ominis and MC to make the child less nervous or just letting them know how exciting things will be for them :)"
in the same 'verse as "it's a sign of the times" [AO3]
Sebastian sets her down and rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Not too good, alright? It’s worth breaking a few rules every now and then to make a friend, or do what’s right.” “Like how you met Uncle Ominis and he showed you the Undercroft?” she says eagerly. A few feet away, you look up sharply from where you’re hugging Simon goodbye. “Did she just say ‘Undercroft?’” “No,” Sebastian and Anne-Marie say in unison.
September 1, 1910
Suspended overhead in the bustling terminal of King’s Cross Station is a massive clock. Every morning, hundreds of thousands of Londoners – both Muggles and wizards alike, though more often the former – pass underneath the clock as they hurry to catch their trains. Many will casually glance up to ensure they’re still on time as they make their way to work, school, or even the lucky few off on holiday.
As it happens, the first day of September brings countless students to the station on their way to boarding schools all over the U.K., meaning the station stays especially crowded well into the late morning. Worried mums and impatient dads all turn their eyes toward that clock, hoping their sprogs won’t be left on the platform on their very first day of school.
Just as the minute hand slides into place at the very bottom of the clock, a handsome young family emerges from a tiny waiting room positioned at the far end of the terminal.
Hundreds of Muggle men in their funny, black suits and odd little bowler hats have already walked right past the waiting room without sparing it a second glance. In fact, had any of them paused to do so, they would have read a small sign affixed to the door that simply read, “Out of Order.”
But inside that waiting room is a grand fireplace. Not just any fireplace, mind you – one that roared brilliantly twenty-four hours a day, never needs stoking, and, perhaps most importantly, spews out bright green flames.
Sebastian Sallow first exits the waiting room with a precarious cart loaded up with trunks, birdcages, and even some broomsticks of all things. If the Muggles passing by thought anything of the man’s rather odd collection of travel items, no one said a word.
He glances up at the clock and grins.
“Ten thirty,” he says confidently over his shoulder. “See? I told you we wouldn’t be late.”
Beside him is his young wife. Their smallest child, a boy just a few months shy of his fifth birthday, is dozing in her arms. Behind them are their oldest children, a pair of twins, chatting excitedly as they follow their parents toward the barricade between platforms nine and ten.
“Doesn’t it seem a bit redundant to Floo all the way down to London just to put the children on a train back to Scotland?” Sebastian mumbles as your family weaves its way through the flowing crowds.
“Perhaps, but all the children love riding the train,” you remind him fondly. “It’s a Hogwarts tradition, especially for the little ones.”
Having never had the chance to take the Hogwarts Express yourself, you find yourself mildly envious of your eldest children, both of whom will soon be taking their very first journey on the school’s scarlet red steamer train.
“Besides,” you add teasingly. “If I recall, you and Anne met Ominis on your first train ride to Hogwarts, correct?”
“Fine, I suppose you’ve got me there,” Sebastian relents with a soft smile. “I rather think this whole journey will have been worth it if the twins happen to make lifelong friends who save their lives several times over.”
“Do we have to?” your son Simon pipes up, sounding wary. “Because I packed a book I wanted to read.”
Sebastian raises an eyebrow at you and gives you a look that reads, He is your son through and through.
“Trying to prove you’re a Ravenclaw already, are you?” Sebastian teases him. “Just like your mum, you are.”
“I’m going to be a Slytherin like you, Daddy!” your daughter Anne-Marie chimes in proudly. “Even Auntie Anne said so!”
You and Sebastian exchange a fond, albeit exasperated look. Ever since Anne (and eventually Sebastian) had accepted the life-limiting curse placed upon her by Rookwood, she’d instead focused on honing types of magic that don’t drain her of her energy or cause her any more pain. She’d found comfort in Divination and has grown into a very powerful Seer, though she often uses her gift to rile up your children with premonitions of being spoiled rotten on their birthday or soundly beating the other village children in their broomstick races.
However, predicting that your mischievous little girl will end up in Slytherin is a fairly safe bet, you imagine.
“I won’t be the least bit surprised if that’s true,” Sebastian says warmly. “But just know your mother and I will love you all the same no matter which house you end up in.”
“Even Hufflepuff?” Simon asks nervously. “Ernest from the village says Hufflepuffs are boring.”
“Don’t forget your Auntie Poppy is a Hufflepuff,” you tease him. “She’s anything but boring!”
That seems to cheer Simon up a bit, but your sweet, slightly shy boy falls back beside you as you get closer to the platform barricade.
“Alright, my love?” you ask him softly.
He reaches for your free hand and squirms up tightly against your side. “It’s really big…”
You size up the high brick archway before you. To the naked eye, it appears as solid as rock, and despite Sebastian’s reassurances that it’s perfectly safe to run straight at it, you imagine you’d be intimidated as well if you were only eleven years old.
“Don’t worry, darling,” you reassure him. “Your father and I will come with you to the platform, you won’t have to go through alone.”
He nods wordlessly and you squeeze his hand. Ever her father’s girl, Anne-Marie takes Sebastian’s arm and the two of them push the wobbly luggage cart straight at the archway, and in the blink of an eye, they’ve vanished.
“See?” you murmur to Simon. “Not so scary, is it?”
With your youngest still propped against your hip, you and Simon walk toward the barricade at a slower pace. You glance around to make sure no Muggles are watching as you slip through the magical brick facade, and then in the blink of an eye you’re on a pack platform surrounded by wizarding families and children in bright, colorful robes.
“Over here!” Sebastian calls out, and you see that he’s pulled the cart right up to the train.
“Help each other with your trunks, just like that,” Sebastian says as Simon and Anne-Marie first carry the trunk marked with an “S.S.” aboard the carriage and then return for the other marked with an “A.M.S.”
Then they carry in their owls – both young tawny birds raised from hatchlings, a gift from their Aunt Poppy. Finally, they return for their brooms, which Sebastian knows for a fact they ought not to have as first years, but he hopes he can talk Headmaster Weasley into looking the other way once they arrive with the intent of trying out for their house Quidditch teams.
(Raising your children in a wizarding village had been quite an eye-opening experience for you. Your twins have been on broomsticks since they could walk, and over the years their godfather Ominis has insisted on making sure they always have the latest model – one for each, so they won’t squabble over sharing.)
You pull Anne-Marie in for a tight hug once the children finish unloading their cart.
“You’ve got everything you need?” you ask her, pretending your voice hasn’t gone thick with tears. “I’ve packed you both some sweets for the ride, remember to share with your new friends, and write to us as soon as you get back to your dormitories please–”
“Yes, Mum,” she says, somewhat impatiently. “We promise we will.”
Anne-Marie kisses her littlest brother goodbye on his chubby cheek, fondly brushing back some of those messy brown curls your husband had given him.
“Why don’t you let your father give you a hug goodbye, sweetheart?” you gently prompt her.
You expect you’re the only one who’s noticed that Sebastian’s eyes have gotten a bit wet as he’d watched his children load up their belongings on the train. Even though he’d likely try to deny it if you prodded him, he sincerely looks like he could use a hug.
As soon as Anne-Marie approaches him with her arms out, Sebastian scoops her up against his chest like he’d often done when she was much smaller – only now her legs nearly touch the floor, and soon he’ll only be able to sway her like this with her feet firmly planted on the ground.
“Have a great term, sweetheart,” he tells her softly. “I can’t wait to hear all about it – even the parts that’ll exasperate your mother.”
“I promise I’ll be good,” she says ruefully.
Sebastian sets her down and rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Not too good, alright? It’s worth breaking a few rules every now and then to make a friend, or do what’s right.”
“Like how you met Uncle Ominis and he showed you the Undercroft?” she says eagerly.
A few feet away, you look up sharply from where you’re hugging Simon goodbye. “Did she just say ‘Undercroft?’”
“No,” Sebastian and Anne-Marie say in unison.
You narrow your eyes suspiciously and decide to leave it be for now, but as soon as you turn away, Sebastian leans down and whispers, “Write to Uncle Ominis and ask him where to find it. It’s a Sallow’s rite of passage.”
“I will,” she says excitedly. “And I’ll bring Simon.”
“Good girl,” he says proudly.
Anne-Marie manages to free Simon from your weepy grasp so that Sebastian can also pull him in for one last hug, reassuring his son he’ll be proud of him no matter which house he eventually calls home. Then the two link arms as they make their way toward the train, climbing up the stairs behind a gaggle of redheaded children (whose surname you could likely guess on the first try).
They settle into a compartment halfway down the carriage. Anne-Marie eagerly presses her face against the glass and makes a silly face at Sebastian, which he delightedly returns. Simon waves goodbye as well and holds up the book he’d packed, showing it off as if to say, “See Mum? We’ll be just fine.”
With your groggy son in your arms and Sebastian’s arm around your shoulders, you watch as the train slowly starts to rumble down the tracks and into the brilliant September sunshine. It’s carrying your children ever closer to your home, and yet further away from you than they’ve ever been.
You hide a few tears against the lapel of Sebastian’s robes; he kindly wipes away the rest with a handkerchief and kisses the redness on your cheeks and nose until you’re smiling once more.
“They’re going to have an incredible year,” he whispers to you. “It’s Hogwarts.”
You simply nod, not trusting yourself to answer without a stray sob slipping out.
Dozens of parents begin to Apparate away from the tracks as soon as the train rounds the corner, but with your youngest, you’ll need to make your way back to the station’s Floo flames to get home safely. This time pushing an empty cart, the three of you slip back through the brick barricade.
“It sure will feel quiet when we get home,” Sebastian says a little sadly.
“We’ve still got the littlest one,” you say softly, cradling your sleeping boy’s cheek as he clings to you through his nap. “He’ll keep us on our toes enough as he gets older.”
“I suppose,” Sebastian sighs, still sounding morose even as he reaches over and gently strokes the back of his fingers down your singleton’s back.
Then he perks up and raises an eyebrow at you. “Or perhaps we could try for a fourth?”
You shoot him a withering glare. “Not on your life, Sebastian Sallow. We’ve just sent the twins off to school, I think that means we should actually get to enjoy some peace and quiet for once.”
(Though when your twins come home for the winter holidays with countless tales of their adventures with new friends and their pockets stuffed full of Zonko’s products, Sebastian gets to be the one to tell them they’ll have a new baby sister the following summer.)
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emybunart · 2 months
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More Mizu and Aiko~
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hlficlibrary · 6 months
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HL Fic Library 🧡 Kid Fics
Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.
🧡 the wonderlands by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci {M, 150k}
"Somewhere between chaos and control — these are the wonderlands."
Harry's daughter, Andy, is signed to Louis' girl band. Her path to success is marked by competition, chaos, and for Harry, a love affair.
🧡 Flour and Chocolate by teaandtumblr {M, 145k}
It was nice, for a bakery he supposed.
Then he approached the display cabinet.
And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN.
What. The. Fuck?
Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.
 OR Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street.
🧡 Face Your Fears by @sadaveniren {E, 92k}
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Then he meets Harry Styles, another divorced dad with a teenage daughter, who convinces him it’s a good idea to pretend they're dating to keep their kids happy.
🧡 Standing on the Edge of Forever by EllaO {M, 55k}
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Featuring adorable Dad Harry, hotshot actor Louis, three sassy kids, a badass Sophia Smith, and a Liam who just wants all their kids to be well behaved.
🧡 A Life That We Share (I Owe It All to You) by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings {M, 50k}
When Harry's son came home from school crying he didn't think things could get any worse. Lucky for them, things were just about to change for the best.
or Harry's son get bullied until Louis' son shows up :)
🧡 Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie {E, 46k}
Everyone is chasing, searching, dreaming of their soulmate.
Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. The unexpected passing of Louis' mum, and the fact that now he is the guardian of his twin two-year-old little siblings, just means that Harry is going to have to wait a bit longer.
A soulmate AU full of cute kids, house building, therapy, and a lot of dreaming.
🧡 hymns for restless stars by @turnyourankle {E, 37k}
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🧡 Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by @allwaswell16 {E, 30k}
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Or a songfic inspired by the song Chicago
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Cameron nodded as he slipped his thumb back into mouth, fighting to keep his eyes open now. “Please, Lou.”
“Sure. get some sleep, okay?” Louis hugged him tighter and closed his own eyes, his arms heavy with the weight of the little boy they were wrapped around. Just as Louis was dozing off, his eyes too heavy to keep open anymore, he heard whispered words that shattered his heart into a million more pieces.
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Harry waltzes into Louis’ life when everything seems to be crumbling around him. A dad overnight, grief stricken and learning to be a parent as he goes, Harry helps to bring light, laughter and, of course, baked goods back into their lives.
🧡 Enchanted by @brightgolden {E, 25k}
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That’s unexpected. “Are you telling me I’m your close friend now?” Louis quips, squinting his eyes at Harry.
OR Where Louis finally meets his neighbour. After a few conversations, he begins to realise he is too weak to resist the charms of the new mother and his six month old daughter.
🧡 Barefoot in Blue Jeans by @indiaalphawhiskey {E, 24k}
AU. Louis Tomlinson is trying desperately hard not to fall for his son’s au pair, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember why.
475. The hope that this fear is unfounded.
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The Shameless Hallmark Movie AU you probably didn't ask for.
Or, the one where Harry didn't think he wanted a family, but with a little Christmas magic (and maybe one Louis Tomlinson) he realizes that he is very, very wrong.
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A decade later, he's the head anchor of the American version of Match of the Day and is raising the coolest nine-year-old on the planet, who happens to be obsessed with Harry Styles - popstar, musician, and all-around household name.
🧡 The Baby Whisperer by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {E, 18k}
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OR the one where being neighbourly takes on a whole new meaning.
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🧡 You're A Universe by Jiksa / @jiksax {E, 15k}
Harry doesn’t ever mean to hurt him; Louis doesn’t know how to tell him that it’s the only thing he ever does anymore.
Or, Louis’s a stay-at-home dad in London and Harry’s a business expat in Qatar. Louis doesn’t know how much longer their marriage can survive the distance.
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🧡 It'll Be by @styleandsin {E, 13k}
Louis has always wanted children and he decides he's done waiting for love to come first. However, after adopting a baby girl just days after she's born, he quickly realizes how hard parenting is. Louis hires Harry to be his Nanny, and it all works out great. Until Louis falls in love with him.
🧡 How It Begins (series) by @phdmama {E, 8k}
New town, new job, new school for his daughter. It's a chance to start again for Louis Tomlinson, a clean slate.
Or is it?
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wordsinhaled · 10 months
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was talking about this with @ghostboyjules --
children's reading circle librarian!dream ("mister dream"!!! with lil star doodles on his name tag...??? yes???) and single dad!hob whose son is in dream's reading circle AU still lives in my head rent free
thinking about hob being a regular at the library and trying to work up the courage to ask dream out but also not wanting to be creepy because this is dream's place of work??? and dream not wanting to approach hob because his son is in the reading group and that would be out of line!!! so they spend a long time both secretly liking each other
then they actually run into each other somewhere else innocuous (checkout at the grocery store? hob sees dream in a t-shirt and jeans for the first time - not what he usually wears at the library - and dream sees hob in a hoodie with his hair up in a messy bun and they're both like OH MY GOODNESS HEART EYES??? IT'S HIM
hob actually spots him first and he has robyn with him and of course robyn (who loves dream) is all, MISTER DREAAAM! and drags them over to the same checkout. of course dream then crouches down to speak to robyn in a very serious and proper way about whether he has finished the book on greek mythology they just checked out yet. and then dream looks up at hob before straightening up and he's still smiling in a totally disarming way and hob is like oh okay, so if i don't take my chances i might actually perish
and so hob jumps on the opportunity to ask dream out for coffee or drinks... dream is SUPREMELY thrilled to be asked out but also totally blindsided... ends up putting his foot in his mouth and accidentally declines somehow??? cites propriety or whatever and hob is all, "oh, that's alright of course, well - we'll see you on sunday - " and then they have to both wait in the checkout queue before hob can go home to lick his wounds in peace...
that night death calls dream up to see how he's doing and coaxes the story out of him... and takes it upon herself to arrange a re-do for them... and she insists dream has to be the one doing the asking out this time... in the end dream ends up asking hob to go to like ??? a museum exhibit opening with him? an exhibit on fancy antique books perhaps? something fancy like that. idk there's wine and passed hors d'oeuvres and fancy outfits and it's TOTALLY kind of high stakes as first dates go but the rest is history ok????
fast forward to dream reading robyn a bedtime story before tucking him in at night because robyn INSISTS on being tucked in by mister dream and hob standing in the doorway like "you're so good with him *heart eyes*"
ahhh, i just love them your honor
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fizzigigsimmer · 11 hours
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Reality collision where Billy shows up to school one day with a baby. No one knows who the kid is or why Billy showed up with him; but he waits to corner Steve in the parking lot. Shoves the baby into his arms unceremoniously all - "Take your spawn Harrington."
Steve's never seen this baby in his life, and if anything it looks like Billy. Brown hair sure, but the eyes,chin, and those ears are all Hargrove. He's confused even more when Billy starts babbling about holes opening up on the walls and what sounds like demo-dogs, which he shouldn't even know about!
One thing he is sure of, he definitely didn't get attacked by a demo-dog last night or run into Billy's car out near the powerplant. He definitely didn't give Billy this baby and ask him to take care of it, but someone did.
AKA Billy and Steve get stuck temporarily taking care of their alternate reality baby and it brings them together.
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wreckedandpolemic · 17 days
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pls post the stuff abt their kids omg
lalalala i didn’t tear up at Any point during the writing of this (she lied)
so your eldest, alanis, is matty’s little mini-me. from the minute she’s born, you can tell; she has a full head of dark, thick hair that you know will sprout into his pretty ringlets, his brown eyes blink up at you from her sweet little face, and you can even see his nose scrunched up in her tiny little features. you’ve never felt more in love than with her tiny little body against your chest, tears in matty’s eyes as he holds you both. “oh, my god,” he breathes. “i’m a dad. hello, little one. i love you so much. god, i didn’t know i could love someone this much. she’s so tiny!” he coos, staring down at her adoringly.
“she looks like you,” you murmur, stroking over the bridge of her nose, her little face smaller than your palm.
tears are spilling down matty’s cheeks, his smile brilliant. “you think so?” he chuckles wetly. “god, hope that’s the only thing she gets from me. listen to me, baba,” he says seriously, addressing her like she can understand him, her eyes wide with fascination. “don’t be like me. be like your mum, yeah? ‘cause she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” your heart melts, and despite the lingering pain and slight delirium, you’ve never been happier.
as alanis gets a little older, though, it’s obvious she’s ignoring his warning, matty’s personality as obvious in her as his hair. she’s a little diva (“confident!” matty chimes in.), bossy and a know-it-all (“self-assured and clever! aren’t you, little lani-girl? my clever girl, don’t listen to mummy.”), but underneath she really is the sweetest little thing. matty’s absolutely enamoured with her, spoils her rotten, unable to say no to her big brown eyes. you can’t complain too much, though — you know from experience how difficult those eyes are to refuse <3
she’s nearly three when you tell her you’re pregnant again, slightly worried about her reaction because she’s so used to being your spoilt little baby. but her little face just lights up, toddling towards you on her chubby, unsteady legs and pressing her hands against your belly. “hi, baby!” she says excitedly. “baby soon, mummy?”
you laugh, picking her up and smothering her in kisses as matty tells her, “babies, sweetheart.”
alanis gasps, her eyes going comically wide as she goggles at you. “how many, mummy? four? seven?”
you shake your head, your own eyes widening. “no, baby. just two, promise.”
and, true enough, six months later, you bring vera and fiona home. alanis is obsessed with them, obsessed with being a big sister. she’s gentler with them than you’ve ever seen her, fascinated as they learn to grip onto her fingers. one night, you go to put her to bed and find her in the twins’ room, singing nursery rhymes and lullabies over their cribs. you sprint for matty, tugging him by the arm to show him, tears brimming in both your and his eyes.
“she’s so precious,” matty whispers, your head resting against his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you.
“she’s just like you. aren’t you, baby?” you add when she looks up and sees you both watching her. “you’re dada’s little mini-me, right?”
alanis nods wildly, running as fast as her little legs will carry her into matty’s arms, giggling wildly as he spins her around. “my little girl,” he grins. “not so little anymore, are you? before i know it, you’ll be sixteen and kissing boys. or girls.”
she wrinkles her little nose, the expression so reminiscent of your husband that you can’t stifle your laugh. “kissing for mummy and dada. not for lani. yucky.” she says firmly.
matty nods proudly. “that’s right, sweetheart. yucky. no kissing ‘til you’re twenty-five. no, thirty.”
you scoff. “we were married before i was twenty-five, matthew.”
“god, i don’t know how your dad didn’t fu- flipping kill me. i get it, now,” he says, balancing alanis on his hip. “i need her to stay my little girl forever. okay, lani? gotta be dada’s sweet little baby girl forever,” he tells her seriously as she reaches up to tug on his curls. “you want a bedtime story?” he asks, and she agrees enthusiastically, matty singing to her under his breath as he carries her to her room. you watch them go, in their own little world, your chest swelling with love.
watching their little personalities develop as they grow up is the absolute highlight of your life. alanis gets more like matty every passing day, all unruly curls and biting wit. even when she grows into a moody teenager, the two of them stay heartwarmingly close, matching curly heads bent together, always whispering and giggling. vera starts out life as the easiest of your three girls, calm and easily entertained, rarely crying, and largely stays that way. in your house of dramatists and divas, you sometimes worry that she’s so laid-back that she’ll just disappear. but she has a built-in best friend in boisterous little fiona, always dragging her out from under a pile of books on some adventure or another.
matty’s never so happy as when he’s with his girls. he’ll never think twice about calling off or leaving work early if you need or even just want him to, always at your side. knowing your girls won’t grow up how you did, emotionally walled off in a house that wasn’t a home, warms your heart. your home is soundtracked by laughter, squabbling, the crackle of a vinyl player or the chimes of a piano.
you don’t realise how different their childhoods are to yours until alanis comes home, aged thirteen, and bemoans some embarrassing situation involving the girl she likes, dramatically throwing her head into your lap and her feet into matty’s. you didn’t come out to your parents until you were in college, and you’d never have gone to them with boy problems. so you cuddle your girl close, kiss her curly little head, offer her ice cream and a movie to feel better.
vera pokes her head around the door just as elle is starting to study for the lsats, tucking herself in between you and alanis and letting you squeeze her into your arms. when fiona joins you fifteen minutes later, matty declares you’re having a movie night and bedtime is cancelled, darting off to bring you all popcorn.
three hours later, your girls have fallen asleep in a pile on the sofa between you and your husband, and the pair of you are fighting off the sandman yourselves. you tuck them carefully into bed, their peaceful faces twitching into tiny smiles when you kiss their foreheads gently and creep into your own bed. eyes closing with matty’s arms around you, your last waking thoughts are of the perfect family you’ve built. this, you think, is home. this is love.
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mdzsxchange · 4 days
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MDZS Kidfic Exchange
It's time once again for another @mdzsxchange!
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[ID: Graphic of a blackboard leaning against a wall. Atop the blackboard, a row of multicolored alphabet blocks spells "@mdzsxchange." On the floor in front of the board, scattered blocks spell "Kidfic." The text written on the blackboard contains details for the event, as duplicated in the post below. /end ID]
parenting, accidental child acquisition, de-aging, pre-canon cuteness, and more — if it's got a kiddo, it's invited to this playdate!
an art, fic, and podfic exchange with the young'uns!
Tag-Set Nominations: May 12 - May 25
Sign-Ups: May 19 - June 1
Assignments: by June 5
Works Due & Posting Date Selections: July 17
Posting Begins: July 25
AO3 Collection & Guidelines | Exchange Tagset
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antimony-medusa · 8 months
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Think: Does This Relationship Need To Be Family Dynamic??
Okay so people more articulate than me have made posts about how imediately family-coding and aging down characters and saying "this is the child and this is the DAD" is infantilization, and it's really fucking blatant when you do it to women, and it's really fucking glaring when you do it to disabled women. MCYT has the idea that family dynamic The Superior Dynamic and couldn't possibly be objectionable, but like, it is often straight up disrespectful. We are talking about adults. They are adults. Stop assigning them baby.
I have bitten the bullet and gone GUYS I AM BEGGING YOU and mentioned that Daddy Kink is a thing that is popular out in the world and that immediately fixating on one character as a Daddy and one as a Little is actually the opposite of trying to come up with a non-shipping option. Like I am not judging here if that's what floats yoru boat, but at some point you are putting kink posts in the main tag, even if it's not overtly sexual, and some of these posts I am only calling deniably non-sexual because you HAVE to know what you're doing.
But even aside from all of these things, someone brought something up in GC today that I think is worth mentioning. QSMP is an international server drawing from a lot of different cultures, and a focus on a nuclear family dynamic, with everyone being father-son or brother-sister to each other, is a really Western concept of what relationships are important. Kinship ties beyond the nuclear family are an important thing in a lot of cultures, and extended family is a thing (cousins, anyone?), and community ties are a thing (it takes a village?), and people choosing to be part of a sect or group is a thing (they have the ordem right there!), and esprit de corps is a thing (you try and tell me codebreakers don't have a warriors bond) and insisting that everyone is in a strict nuclear family is just an incredibly 1950s america way to view things. It's a narrowing of the possibilities in the relationships. I think we can do better than enforcing our cultural views on what relationshps are at the top of the hiarchy just like, across the board.
So like, okay, maybe you don't want to ship characters. That's awesome. That's fine. Shipping is not mandatory. Instead of always saying "they're brother-sister" because you want to celebrate their relationship, maybe consider sometimes letting them just be epic friends, or close connections where you're the Tia of his children but there's no blood there, or a qpr knot where you have important bonds with people but no formal romantic ties, or take one of the relationship types mentioned above.
Like, I have my woes with family dynamic especially because of the first two points and because I find it tends to strip characters down to archetypes which I'm not into, but also I'm very aware that it can be done in such a way that it respects everyone involved and is great. I am not arguing that family dynamic is inherently problematic. But there are some significant pitfalls with using it, and I'm really asking you to consider the implications of what you're messaging before you start sticking people in a family format.
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mrghostrat · 3 months
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Have you read that fic where Crowley is a famous nonbinary model and Aziraphale is their bodyguard who has like seven foster children waiting for him back home (including all of the Them)?
oh my god no i've not even heard of this one 👀
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scarlettscribbles · 5 months
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prologue
PART OF neither the angels in heaven above, nor the demons by the sea DRABBLE SERIES ↠ masterlist
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- Lucy Gray Baird & Daughter!OC, mentioned Lucy Gray Baird x Coriolanus Snow
Summary: 1.7k words - The words were on the tip of her tongue before Coriolanus had let it slip that he'd killed three people.
As Lucy Gray became a ghost lost in the wind, so did her secrets.
a/n: i cannot stop thinking about snowbaird !! inspired by my visenya-verse and also bc i love writing about children being loved :)
also, shout out to PlayingTheGameOfThrones' It's Quiet Uptown! i was reading snowbaird fics and i was so happy to find a secret kid fic. literally squealed in excitement bc i was like, that's what's literally in my brain rn
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In truth, Lucy Gray was too young to be doing this. Halfway eighteen, with her heart broken by a man — a boy, really — who almost killed her. Ironically, the suspect of her current predicament was the same person. Oh how Lucy Gray hated it that he still haunted her now.
She had Lucy Gray’s tan skin, her baby girl. The wisps of her hair stuck against her forehead were bright blond. Lucy Gray wondered if her hair would darken eventually.
Annabel Rose Baird was a sickly baby. Her heart was weak and every night, Lucy Gray would have trouble sleeping, afraid that she’d wake up with a cradle gone cold. But she was a survivor, her Annie. Much like her mother. (And father.)
But they could not live on that alone. Lucy Gray, barely recovered from birth, wrapped her baby tight on her back with a sling and took their meager belongings in a bag, setting out to find the community up North Billy Taupe had once talked about. Lucy Gray walked for miles and miles, sometimes wishing she hadn’t left behind that lovely orange scarf her lover gave her. It would’ve made for a more comfortable sleep in their journey. She could’ve given it to Annie as her baby blanket, something to remember her childhood by — the one piece of her father she would ever know or keep. But alas, Lucy Gray had left it behind along with the broken pieces of trust she once thought she could rely on.
Lucy Gray found them eventually. Or rather, they found her. It was in the middle of the night and she’d just put Annie to sleep when flashes of light shone through the gaps between the trees. Cradling her whimpering baby close to her chest, Lucy Gray raised a hand in surrender, hoping that she was saying the right words for them to not shoot her.
They took them to their leader and gave them a small cabin. It was cozy and comfortable but it wasn’t home. Not when their leader, with his calculating eyes and access to Capitol broadcasts, look at her and her baby with such intense scrutiny. Lucy Gray’s paranoia increases every time he “accidentally” chances upon her with questions about the Capitol, about the Hunger Games, about Annie. He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is. Lucy Gray endures his questions, answering casually to alleviate the suspicion upon her. Her heart threatens to beat out of her chest every single time. She could only properly breathe again when she’s back within the four walls of their cabin, with Annie safe in her arms, her little puffs of breath warming Lucy Gray from the inside out.
The one saving grace of the place was Dr. Hartree. She was training under some big shot Capitol doctor when she fled, so she knew more than the District healers did despite the meager hospital equipment she had. She diagnosed Annabel Rose with something called moderate Ventricular Septal Defect; a heart disease she had since birth. Dr. Hartree let her listen to the whooshing sound of her Annie’s heartbeat through the stethoscope. Her baby’s got a hole in her heart. Lucy Gray wept.
Dr. Hartree said that the hole might yet repair itself, that she could look for some medicine that could help strengthen Annie’s heart muscles. But if it did not, Annie would need heart surgery which Dr. Hartree was neither qualified for nor equipped to do. In that scenario, going to the Capitol would be Annie’s best hope, said the doctor. The community’s leader approved Dr. Hartree’s request for getting the medicine. In exchange, Lucy Gray had to take on additional work on top of what she’d already been assigned with to earn her keep. Lucy Gray was both thankful and suspicious. She was no fool, a big favor like that didn’t come without heavier strings. But her baby was alive so Lucy Gray kept her head down. (For the moment, at least.)
Annabel Rose grew up a happy child. She was small for her age but her presence filled the room and her heart was so full of love. Whenever she smiled, a deep dimple showed on her cheek and her warm brown eyes would shine like stars in the night sky. Her baby never did grow out of her blond hair, riotous curls tumbling down her head. She looked like an angel; Lucy Gray’s own angel.
She was truly heaven sent. There were no words to describe how much her daughter made her happy, which was something, coming from a songwriter. Oft Lucy Gray wished the Covey had a chance to know her daughter. Annabel Rose fit in alright with the children of the community, but children can be cruel sometimes. Annie’s body was weak and she ran out of breath fast, making her unable to be included in strenuous physical activities. Lucy Gray was not deaf to the whispers of “runt” that surrounded her daughter, whispers that eventually reached Annie’s ears, causing her to come home tearfully, fisting her mother’s skirt and asking what it meant. Once upon a time, Lucy Gray would have been rearing for a fight but everything was different now. She didn’t have her Covey; her and Annie were alone.
Oh, people were nice enough but, like in District 12, they seemed to be able to sense an otherness in her and Annie that made them unable to accept them fully. It didn’t help that the community leader’s demeanor was like that either. The residents liked and respected him better than the strangers they barely knew anything about, so of course they’d follow his example.
Lucy Gray had been missing her Covey so much that she contemplated going back to District 12, back to her family, when she’d heard that an electric fence was put around it, complete with Peacekeepers patrolling the perimeter. They’d never bothered with that area before, but Lucy Gray had an inkling why they suddenly found it important.
So what else could she do but grit her teeth and bear it? Every night Lucy Gray would sing songs to Annie and tell her stories about the Covey, about her family and the colorful nights and laughter they shared. And Annie’s eyes would shine in the low lamplight, humming along to the tunes.
Lucy Gray did not bring her guitar with her during her journey out of District 12, but she was able to obtain a smaller version — a ukulele — from a traveling salesman. His initial offer nearly took all her saved up money to pay for, but she was able to haggle down to a more reasonable price. At 3-years-old, Annabel Rose learned the basic chords from her mother. The first song she learned was to the tune of Lucy Gray's namesake.
It tugged at Lucy Gray’s heartstrings to hear her Annie’s sweet voice in the warmth of their home. She resolved to write a song for her daughter’s fourth birthday as a gift. Lucy Gray had her song, and so did her Capitol boy. It was only apt that Annabel Rose had one too.
It was the night of Annabel Rose's fourth birthday when everything went wrong. Lucy Gray was humming underneath her breath to the tune of a new song, their tiny kitchen fragrant with the smell of a birthday cake she’d stolen half the ingredients for to bake. She lit up a deformed red candle she attempted to mold from whatever melted wax she could find, cupping the flame between her palms briefly to keep it from being blown out. With a satisfied sigh, she wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the bed to shake her daughter awake.
All Lucy Grey felt was the cold skin of her daughter, her breathing shallow and her skin tinged blue. Her heart dropped to her stomach. With shaking hands, she wrapped Annie in a blanket and lifted her into her arms.
On the way to Dr. Hartree’s cabin, Lucy Gray would not realize that she’d been singing the song she’d written for Annie. And she will sing it under her breath while the good doctor examined her daughter, telling her the heart defect had gotten worse. She’d sing it at the back of her mind while Dr. Hartree tells her that surgery wasn’t an option anymore, that the medicine Annie’ll need is only available in the Capitol, that if she wants her baby to live she’ll need to find some way to get her a heart transplant. She’ll sing it and sing it, hoping the girl she’d written it for would awaken long enough to sing it with her.
She would only stop when Dr. Hartree clasped her hands, telling her in a hushed whisper that she’d found a way to get them to the Capitol discreetly. The doctor’s got family among the Peacekeepers in District 12 who was going to go to the Capitol in two days. Some officer fellow that was high-ranking enough to have his own private train cabin, and kind enough to share it with them. Dr. Hartree had given her temporary antibiotics for Annie with an apology that she couldn’t do anything more. When they arrive in the Capitol, Lucy Gray was on her own. Lucy Gray who had no penny to her name, who would probably be shot on sight once the Capitol had caught wind of her existence.
Her mind was racing on the morn she and a barely-lucid Annie snuck out to the gates. They were met with a heavyset man two heads taller than Lucy Gray, driving a military jeep. Time passed quickly and they encountered no hurdles getting to the train station on time. He lent them warm Capitol-style cloaks so they could blend in upon arrival. He’d even made her a cup of tea, noticing the nervousness in her demeanor. Lucy Gray had not been expecting such kindness from a Peacekeeper, no matter how highly Dr. Hartree spoke of him.
It was nighttime when they arrived, snow falling heavily on the ostentatious buildings. It wasn’t only the cold that made Lucy Gray shiver.
Under the cover of the night, Lucy Gray held her Annabel Rose and rapped on the door of the one she’d hoped would help them. If blood was not an enough reason, she could always appeal to their conscience.
The door swung open.
“Tigris, I need your help.”
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moodymelanist · 4 months
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🎄 All I Want For Christmas Is Snow 🎄
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Surprise, @emeriethevalkyriegirl! I’m your Secret Santa! had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you enjoy ❤️ thanks for putting together an amazing event as usual @acotargiftexchange and happy holidays to all who celebrate !!
Summary: Nesta and Cassian’s daughter has never seen snow, so they conspire to give their baby girl her first white Christmas.
Word Count: 4,875
❅❅❅❅❅ Cassian
“Daddy?”
Cassian turned from where he was picking out a book for bedtime to look at his daughter. Seraphina – Sera for short, as she’d been insisting for a while now – looked absolutely adorable in a pair of purple pajamas. She’d just turned five not too long ago and he was so, so thankful she still enjoyed getting a bedtime story and a kiss on the forehead.
“Yes, mijita?” Cassian answered, grabbing one of the My Little Pony books off Sera’s shelf before coming to settle next to her on her tiny bed. “What’s going on in that cute little head?”
“Is snow real?” she asked abruptly. Her hazel eyes had taken on that determined look that meant she wasn’t going to bed anytime soon until she got her question answered.
“Of course it is,” he answered. It struck him sometimes how little she knew about the world, and just how much he and Nesta had left to show her before she grew up. “It just hasn’t snowed here in a long, long time. Not since before you were born.”
“Why not?” she followed up immediately. “I wanna see some.”
“One day, baby,” Cassian promised vaguely. He couldn’t predict the weather any more than the average guy, but he didn’t want to completely dash all her hopes. “The weather hasn’t been good for it yet.”
“When’s it gonna get good, Daddy?” Sera asked with a sigh she’d definitely gotten from her mother. He’d never get tired of seeing a quintessential Nesta expression on their daughter’s face, so he just reached out and smoothed some of her dark hair back to do something with the warmth of affection that spread through him.
“I don’t know,” he told her honestly. They hadn’t gotten good snow in DC for years – certainly not enough for Sera to enjoy it like a child deserved, anyway – and although the weather prediction said they were in for some real snow this year, who knew if that would actually be true. “But the weather people say maybe we’ll get some snow this year. Isn’t that exciting?”
“If you say so, Daddy,” she replied, clearly not believing him but deciding to go along with it anyway. “Can you read my story now?”
Keep reading on AO3 here!
tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen
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arvensimp · 10 months
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your father should know, pt. 3
Arven leaves you with something more than either of you bargained for when he goes off to Kalos for an internship, and through a series of miscommunications and heartbreak, he returns a few years later to learn that he actually has a child.
arven x fem!reader, nsfw content (in pt. 1), pregnancy (pts. 1, 2, & 2.5), angst, and stupid miscommunications
[part 1][part 2][part 2.5]
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY I'M BACK. pls be aware that this got WAY too long so it's gonna have to be another part or two before we actually get to the happy ending that i promised. yes this will still have a happy ending. i won't hurt arven or the baby like this lolol. the skeleton for the rest of the fic is already written, i just need to flesh it out, given it some muscle, organs, and maybe cute accessories.
ANYWAY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS PART. please thank my mega awesome beta Katie for her help with this too. she's my rock.
---
The ceiling rattles.
"So. How'd you get here today?"
"I, uh... I took my cyclizar?"
Rika nods and takes note of the answer. The not-so-distant sound of muffled battling can be heard through the thick walls of the League building.
"What brings you to the Pokemon League today?" Rika goes on as if nothing is happening.
"Badda!" The little one sitting on her lap shouts. Rika pats his head without looking away from the student in front of her. "Shh. Let her answer my questions first."
Basil babbles a bit in response, some of his words making sense.
"To...become a champion?" The student replies.
"Good, good..." Rika continues on with the rest of the interview, asking different questions and going back and forth with the kid in front of her.
"Okay," She says later, now addressing Basil. "Now you can ask her a question."
"What?" The student asks.
"Not you." Rika corrects tersely. "Go on, Munchkin. Ask the champ-in-the-making whatever you want."
"Um... " Basil seems to think for a moment, but then he gets shy and hides his face against Rika's torso.
The student blanches. "I... I-I'm sorry? Did I do something wrong?"
"Pssh, nah. He just gets timid sometimes is all. But let's see..." Rika leans into Basil and speaks soft and sweet to him. "Whaddya think, Munchkin?" She gives his tummy a bit of a tickle, making him laugh and open up a bit. "Does this kid pass our test?" Rika keeps tickling him as he shrieks with laughter.
"Uh....Is...is that a yes?" The student eventually asks.
Rika pauses, then stands with all the pomp and importance of one in her station, propping the baby up in her arms.
"Yeah, I'd say so." She announces casually, in stark contrast to the serious air she feigned just a moment ago. "Congrats, Kid. You've passed your first test." She holds out a hand to shake and makes sure that Basil also gets to shake too.
Never too soon to start teaching the ins and outs of professionalism or whatever.
"Before you move on to the next step, you'll just need to wait a few minutes for his mama to finish her battle with one of your peers. Once she has him back, I can start your battle test. Sound good?"
The student nods, and sure enough within a few minutes, you arrive through the elevator and greet the room cheerily.
"We've got quite a few challengers today, it seems!" You announce as you take Basil from Rika. The boy had been making grabby hands for you the moment the elevator doors had opened, speaking in broken little syllables of his desire to be in your arms again.
You boop his little nose and smoosh your mouth to his pudgy cheeks in a kiss. "I wasn't gone that long, Sweet Boy!" You tell him. "Were you good for Auntie Rika?"
You look to the woman in question for her assessment.
"He did great. He's getting a real knack for these interviews, I tell you what. Asks some pretty insightful questions, right, Kid?" She says jokingly, turning to the student.
"What?" The kid looks between the three of you. "Oh! Um. ...What? Is this another test?"
Rika laughs. "Everything here is a test."
The student blanches a bit. "Oh... Then. Um. What was the question again?"
Rika ruffles the kid's hair. "Yeah, that's about par for the course. Don't worry about it. You're doing fine." She turns to face you. "For real though, Basil was great. He ate all his snacks and took a great long nap earlier and slept through all the noise of the battling. Super well behaved.” You smile at the comments, your heart swelling with pride as Rika goes on. “So you're headed out then?"
You nod, adjusting Basil on your hip as he starts to fiddle with a button on his overalls.
"Yup. Today's the day!"
Rika whistles. "Well good luck. Lemme know if you end up needing anything, yeah?"
You nod. "Thanks, will do. It should be fine though. Basil, say 'bye-bye!'"
"Bye-aye!" He mimics, waving at Rika.
"Say 'Good luck, Challenger!'"
"Goobuh, tsaduh!"
You laugh and ruffle his hair while the student gives him a determined thumbs up.
"Good job." You murmur into his sweet little head.
You grab the rest of yours and Basil's things and leave the Pokemon League building. You thought it'd do your team some good to get some energy out before their big event today, so you convinced Rika to let you take on some of the Champion Testing battles.
Within an hour or so, you're in the meadows out by Medali with a picnic set up.
Basil is seated in a bouncing little chair that meets the height of the picnic table, and you're finishing up the preparation of food for him and the pokemon.
You kneel down to help him handle his sippy cup.
"Are you excited, my littlest?" You ask him, as he babbles happily. "I'm excited, too."
It had taken you a decent amount of time to build up your courage to quite this stage.
Sure, all your Pokemon met Basil back when he was just a little potato of a thing, barely had his eyes open and could really only eat, sleep, cry, and sometimes pull your hair. But you knew back then that having your Pokemon out and about in the house, within the grasp of a little person who could easily get hurt or unintentionally piss them off was a recipe for trouble.
So your Pokemon were temporarily kept separate from your son for everyone's sake. Of course you still saw them and cared for them and battled with them, but never when Basil was around.
Now he's...he's more like a real person. Now he can run around and play. He's still learning words, but he has thoughts and can speak for himself and understand many things about the world around him. Sometimes so much so that it surprises you!
So. You can trust him enough and teach him how to behave around Pokemon.
You know your team as well as, if not better than, you know your son. You know they won't hurt him.
Still... Tinkaton's hammer is so heavy...and Skeledirge's flames burn so hot... And Raidon...
But no!
You can't keep your loves apart like this any longer!
It feels like it's been ages.
You look back to Basil and swipe your thumb across his cheek where some juice left him sticky.
"Oh, you sweet creature. Are you ready to meet Mama's friends?"
"Mama!" He chatots back to you.
"Okay, Basil." You lay out all six PokeBalls before him. "Take your pick for who you wanna meet first, okay?"
Your boy regards the PokeBalls with shining, eager eyes. He's seen these before. Chubby fingers grasp at a red and white ball. Your oldest.
"Oooh, that's a good one, my love." You say, rolling the ball gently along the table's surface with a single finger, though never removing it from Basil's grip.
"My very, very best friend is inside here." You lean in close and whisper dramatically, making Basil giggle. "But you won't tell the others, yea? He and I have been together for longer than anyone else. He's super excited to meet you. Wanna say hello?"
Basil nods.
"Can you hand me the PokeBall?"
He picks it up, having to hold it with both hands as he maneuvers the thing to your outstretched palm.
"Very good, Basil! Alright. Let's meet Skeledirge!"
You toss the ball into the air, with only a little more than your usual flare that you have when you battle, and the big, beautiful crocodile materializes with a thud on the ground in front of the table. It rears back on its hind legs and gives a mighty roar.
Basil, for his part, stands as best he's able in his chair, with you holding a supporting hand behind his back, to watch the spectacle, clapping his hands at the pokemon before him.
"Keledur!" He shrieks, delighted, before moving to climb down and onto the ground.
You lift him up easily enough and prop him against your hip, but Basil wants no part of being held when something so cool is nearby. "Whoa whoa whoa, wiggle wurmple." You tell him. "We gotta learn how to say hello to Skeledirge, yeah?"
"Hello, Skel'dur!" Basil mimics automatically, still squirming.
Skeledirge has the patience and wherewithal to stay planted while you wrangle the little one to stand in your lap as you sit cross legged in front of the Pokemon.
"Okay, Basil. Now, you need to be gentle with Pokemon. They're our friends, so we always need to be nice. Can you say 'nice'?" You take both of his hands in yours.
"Mm..." He corrects the sound. "Nnnnice!"
"Very nice! Good job! So when we pet Pokemon, we have to be very nice." You help him lean in toward Skeledirge, placing his hand on the Pokemon's nose, just to the side of the tiny firebird, which graciously hops out of the way. "See? Nice. Gentle..." You help him repeat the petting motion.
Basil squeals delightedly, petting Skeledirge's snout as he stomps his feet between your legs.
The Pokemon grumbles softly and shuts his eyes, relaxing into the ground a bit.
"Aw, Skel'dur go slee'?" Basil asks you, as he keeps petting the massive creature. "'Ats okay, Skel'dur. You go slee'. Shh... Shh..."
"Good job, Basil..." You tell him, whispering into the soft bits of fluffy hair behind his ears. "You're being so nice to Skeledirge! While he naps, do you wanna try and meet someone else?"
Basil turns to face you and nods excitedly, gripping the hem of his shirt in his little hands.
You stand and lead him back to the table where the other balls are.
Once again, Basil selects a red and white PokeBall. Briefly you wonder why he doesn't care for any of your specialty balls, but you decide not to question it.
He holds the thing tight in both hands.
"Okay, Bas', that's another really good one! I mean, they're all stellar, obviously, but this one is fun. This Pokemon and I also go way back. All the way back to..." Your heart clenches a bit, but you push past it quickly. "The very start of my journey! A very special person gave me this Pokemon."
Is it bad that you haven't brought up Arven to Basil yet? He isn't that old yet... Not even two yet. He hasn't asked about a papa or a daddy... So? You just kinda let it ride.
"How about you throw the PokeBall this time, huh? Give it a shot. Just throw the ball, hard as you can." You mime the motion to him.
Basil nods solemnly, looking to the ball, then he takes a deep breath and chucks it with a shout!
Or.
Well, he...
He kinda tries to chuck it.
In reality, the ball falls to the ground beneath his feet. It doesn't really matter though because the reddish glow of the releasing pokemon is still able to distance itself from the pair of you as Raidon materializes upright and gives a full body shake, making a chirring sound. 
Basil stands in awe of the dragon that towers over the pair of you.
"Big!" He shouts, and you laugh.
"Yup! It's a big pokemon! This is Raidon!" You pat the creature lovingly along its shoulder, encouraging it to return to all fours. It eyes Basil up and down curiously, tilting its head from side to side. The sight of your baby helps bring it back down to earth a bit, and once it's on all fours again, you kneel to Basil's level.
"Now Raidon is really cool because--"
Basil shrieks, and your heart jolts momentarily before you realize it's a cry of laughter as the pokemon presses its snout up against his chest, chittering happily at him.
Your gaze softens, watching Basil pet along the dragon's snout, just as he had with Skeledirge.
"Good job... We always wanna be nice to pokemon, yeah?" You eventually say, petting along Raidon's shoulder and back.
Basil nods but doesn't take his wide, shining eyes from the creature in front of him.
"So... One of the neat things about this Pokemon is that..."
-
Just like both of his parents, Basil falls in love with Pokemon quickly and whole-heartedly. He's just as eager to meet everyone else on the team as they are to meet him!
Basil makes sure to play nicely and pay keen attention, or as good attention as his developing brain can make out. When someone shuts their eyes, they've "gone to sleep," so they're done playing. If someone is bouncing around, they can still play! He especially likes trying to kick around the little ball you brought along with them.
The Pokemon are also all very gentle with him. Not that you doubted any of them, really. Well, maybe Tinkaton, a little bit... But even then! They seem to understand their strength and how to tone it down for play with a teensy human.
When the sun starts to set later that evening, and Basil's eyes start to droop as his hands lose their grip on the last few bites of his cut up sandwich, you decide it might just be time to head in.
You recall all the pokemon to their balls, pack up the picnic, tuck your boy into his stroller and get started on the trek back to your apartment.
-
You're not alone.
You're not alone.
You're not alone.
You repeat the phrase like a mantra.
You're not alone.
You know that.
Not in, like, a spiritual sense or whatever, or even in the literal sense. You're fully aware that you have your little boy with you nearly at all times.
But you're not alone in raising him.
There's Nemona and Rika who are consistently proving themselves and trying to outdo one another as Best Tía of All Time.
There's Clavell who is always happy to take Basil for an afternoon when you're busy on research business for the academy.
Even Larry has taken your boy once or twice. You recall once how he gave a small sort of half smile when he took the stroller from your hands and waved you off.
"It's fine." He'd said, "He makes good company at meals."
"He can barely talk?"
"Exactly."
So.
Yeah.
You're not alone in parenthood.
Except when you are.
And...you currently are.
It's late at night. Well past Basil's usual bedtime. Past any time you'd feel comfortable asking a friend for an extra set of hands.
You can't blame Basil. Not really.
This isn't his fault. He's a good, sweet boy. He isn't even two yet, and he's already so smart.
Sometimes you even forget how little he is because he's so smart and perceptive.
That's your fault.
So... Maybe you jumped the gun a bit.
Maybe it was too soon for Basil to have a pokemon of his own.
Maybe you didn't realize how tricky it was raising a pokemon in tandem with a toddler.
How was Basil to know that dog pokemon can't eat raisins?
How were you to know he'd figured out how to open up the pantry?
You'd only been in the other room for a few minutes, changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth when Basil had slowly pushed open your bedroom door, shuffling from foot to foot.
"Mama... Buddy frowed up..."
So...here you are, after a tearful admission on your son’s part, rushing your sweet baby's maschiff to the closest Pokemon Center.
Basil is inconsolable in your lap as the taxi flies. Your attempts to calm him fall on entirely deaf ears, partly due to the fact that he's crying so loudly that even the Taxi Driver can barely hear anything. You’ll have to tip him really well.
Basil is a good, sweet boy. He really is, but the situation isn’t aided in the slightest when he flails about in his tantrum, bashing your nose with one of his tiny fists more than hard enough to draw blood. Beyond the pain and having to hold back your own tears for your boy’s sake, you also have to calm the rage, the fear, the panic building in your heart that makes you want to scream. You also have to stanch the blood haphazardly, pressing your tender face to your shoulder, while Basil bawls out his apologies to you.
Maybe if someone else were around, someone could have been watching Basil while you changed.
Maybe if someone else was around, they could have stayed home with him while you rushed off to the Pokemon Center.
Maybe if someone else was around, they could have talked you out of letting your baby boy have a pokemon of his own.
Maybe if someone else was around, you could allow yourself to panic a bit, too.
As it stands, you need to be the sole pillar of support here. No one is here to give you a hanky to wipe at your nose or dab at the unshed tears in your eyes. No one can rub your back soothingly and let you know it’s okay, help you calm your racing heart. No one is there to help quell the nauseous churning in your stomach.
It hits you then that you’d been so busy today that you hadn’t eaten dinner. Again. An empty belly certainly didn’t help the situation.
You try to take a breath. At least, a breath through your mouth.
Buddy the Maschiff (newly hatched as of a few weeks ago from an egg that had been sitting in your box for so long you'd had no idea what was even inside) will be fine, you tell yourself. They'll get him to keep throwing up or whatever needs to happen to get the rest of the raisins out of his system.
Basil will be fine. Maybe a little scared, but fine.
You will be fine. You'll keep the food up higher. No, the raisins were plenty high. Basil pushed a chair. You'll lock the pantry. No, that's crazy, you don't want to restrict food like that. You'll... You'll...
You'll calm down after maybe a few hours of sleep and a snack, maybe. Then you'll be able to think straight again. Maybe.
It's hard doing this alone.
--
"Okay, I think I'm set to go then!"
"Aw, babe, that's great! You sure you don't want me coming along?"
Arven sighs, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "I'm fine, really. I'm just packing up the rest of my stuff from my old storage unit in Mesagoza and coming right back here."
"Coming back to me, you mean?" His companion brazenly flirts. Arven lets it slide. He opens the door of the company car and steps out to the rush of the Lumiose City airport.
"I'll see you when I get back."
"Text me, babe!" She pushes, smiling wide, but Arven is already walking away.
He doesn't... He doesn't mean to be distant to the clingy woman. He's just...a little nervous for this trip is all. Paldea was the only home he ever knew before now, and he finally got the courage to leave for this Kalosian job. He was ready to grow from beneath the shadows of his world renowned parents and League Champion friends. He was ready to find something for himself and come into his own! And he’s done that! He’s still doing that! But it came at the cost of seemingly all of his friends back in Paldea. After your argument and subsequent blocking, everyone else dropped off like venonats not terribly long afterward. It really stung, and it still stings. Arven isn’t entirely sure what to expect when he returns to his home region. Has anyone been following his success? Will anyone even be happy to see him? Should he really just lay low, pack up his stuff, and spirit himself away like he was never even there? Somehow a Galarian goodbye feels worse than not even trying to rekindle a connection with some of his old pals.
Then again, none of this is an excuse to be rude to the woman who gave him a ride. She's been nothing but nice to him the last few years, serving as his PR rep at Bon Applintit. Maybe he should be nicer? Maybe he should finally cave and take her out on that date she's been seemingly begging for... He assumes she probably has some hand in the neat little reputation he's built online for himself as this chef-influencer guy.
Not that he really thinks it totally suits him entirely, but folks seem to really like his content, especially when he pairs human and pokemon food together, showing off how amazing Mabosstiff is.
That's really what it is at the end of the day, he figures. Mabosstiff is the real star of the show.
Not that he's bad, or something! He’s put a lot of effort the last few years into unlearning some of his old, unhelpful thought patterns. It's just... People love dogs, and Mabosstiff is the best!
So he's really lucky. He's hit a pocket of internet fame, and the company is keeping him on longer than his current contract. Kalos has been kind to him so far... It seems like a good place to plant roots, so... He may as well pack up the last bits of his life from Paldea and haul it off now.
The flight to Mesagoza barely takes any time. Boarding and disembarking truthfully take longer than total time in the air, but that's fine.
Arven steps into the streets and...
He's pleasantly surprised by how nice it feels to hear his own language again.
Kalosian isn't bad. He's gotten much better at it, really, even if he wasn't great with foreign languages back in his classes with Salvatore...
Maybe he should thank him? Or apologize? No, thanking him would probably be better.
Plus, if he stops by the school, he could see Clavell and Saguaro.
He wouldn't have to walk by his old apartment next to his storage unit yet.
The last place he hung out with you.
He won't have to think about how you weirdly got angry and shut him out after he had to cancel a few video calls.
He won't have to think about how empty his old place is. How he misses all his peers in his age group. How everyone else ended up dropping off within the year after you blocked him.
He won't have to think about his parents' old belongings that he needs to either pack up and move or toss.
...Yeah, stopping by the academy to see some of his old teachers might be nice.
Plus, Mabosstiff might like to check out the old stomping grounds again.
Arven makes the turn toward the massive set of looming stairs and releases his pokemon from his ball. The dog, for his part, takes a moment to slowly swivel his head from side to side, as if not quite believing his surroundings. He looks up at his person and tilts his head, one of his ears flopping inside out.
Arven laughs and pats his head, fixing the ear in the process. "Yeah, Bud." He says with a smile. "We're ho--...back for a bit. Wanna go stop by school? I bet Saguaro will have some treats for you."
Mabosstiff boofs loudly and gives a bounce--or, as much of a bounce as a dog of his size can really give--before bounding up the stairs. The sight makes Arven laugh even louder, taking after his pokemon, but Mabosstiff is much faster. He gets to the mezzanine landing in no time flat before pausing, his nose held high in the air. Mabosstiff clearly sniffs for several seconds before catching the smell of something and taking off like a bolthund, not bothering to wait for Arven to meet him.
"Hey! Buddy!" The man shouts after his pokemon, picking up the pace, but Mabosstiff pays him no heed and is out of sight within seconds.
The rational part of Arven's mind knows that Mesagoza's Academy is a safe place for pokemon, and that Mabosstiff knows how to handle himself, but at the same time, he can't help but worry just the tiniest bit as he rushes onward and upward along the stairway to try and catch up.
The tiny seed of worry sprouts and grows when he hears Mabosstiff's growling bark and a tiny shriek of a cry not long after.
"Mabosstiff!" He shouts, finally scaling the last of the stairs, doing his best to stave off the feeling of being winded. He isn't the teenager who used to traverse the region anymore, after all. His eyes dart along the courtyard, looking for a massive black cloud along the grass.
"Mabosstiff!" He shouts again, before another screech draws his attention to one of the benches where his dog seems to be perched on top of something.
"Mabosstiff, stop that now!" He calls over, running toward the scene. As he approaches, Arven makes out a speck of yellow and brown yampering and trying to climb up Mabosstiff's back, nipping at his ear.
Upon closer inspection, it's a little maschiff, but Mabosstiff is hardly paying it any mind, his attention entirely focused on using some kid in a stroller as a lollipop. Said kid is the one yelling up a storm.
"Bud!" Arven scolds him, grabbing Mabosstiff by the scruff of his neck. "Down! Now!"
With a pathetic sound, Mabosstiff backs off, as do the sounds of the little one in the stroller, whose squeals die into giggles and fits of laughter.
Arven breathes a sigh of relief that the kid wasn't frightened of his massive dog and that the shrieks he was hearing were probably just laughing. He returns his dog to its pokeball as the maschiff whines.
By now, Arven’s got enough wit about him to look to the kid's parent.
"Hey, uh, I'm so sorry about that. I really don't know what got into my Mabo--" Arven's words die on his tongue when he sees that the kid's accompanying adult was none other than Director Clavell, giving him a look as if he's seen a ghost.
"Oh! Director! Hi!" Arven greets him, embarrassed. "Sorry, I... I actually was stopping by to catch up and say hello to you. I'm back in town for just a few days and I wanted to, uh...catch...up... but, uh... Wow," He says with an awkward smile, gesturing to the stroller without actually looking at it. "Y'know, it's funny, I spent so much time with you as a kid, while Mom and Dad were in lab, and now–"
"Yes, well, Master Arven..." Clavell interrupts him, blithely moving to the child in the stroller who is briefly blocked from view as the director fiddles a bit, no doubt wiping away Mabosstiff's drool and adjusting their hair, something Arven remembers him doing countless times to him as a little boy.
A moment later, Clavell stands back up, an icy indifference covering his face, a perfect match to the chill that settles in Arven's veins as he actually looks at the kid in the stroller. "I'd say you bear a striking resemblance to your father now. We must be going. Good day."
Clavell turns the stroller around, and Arven watches as his old teacher walks off with a toddler that looks like a carbon copy of...himself, complete with a tiny maschiff following along at their heels.
His head swims. What? Who's that kid? How did Clavell get him? Why does he look just like Arven? And what was with that comment about him looking like his dad now?
Arven numbly lifts a hand to his chin. Sure, he'd let his facial hair grow out a bit, but... What? Clavell knows how Arven feels about his dad. That...that had to be a dig at him, right? Did...did the facial hair look dumb? It couldn't look that dumb? No, what was this about? And who is this kid?
By the time Arven has recovered enough to move his stupid legs into the building that Clavell and the boy had disappeared into, bolting to the director's office, the door is locked, and he's informed that Clavell has already left.
Fuck... He... He needs an answer here. Something is very wrong.
Did his mom or dad have some other kid he didn't know about or something? And then he had, like, a sibling or half-sibling somewhere who was unloading their spawn on the director?
No, that’s outrageous.
Maybe the kid just...just happens to look just like Arven?
This is stupid to just guess about. He just needs to be able to talk to someone.
Arven hurriedly makes his way to the Home Ec room and knocks at the door where the familiar face of Mr. Saguaro greets him with a friendly smile.
"Arven! Hello, my boy! Do come in, come in! Would you like something to eat? I just made pokemon treats, and I’m sure your Mabosstiff would love one!" His voice booms as Arven is ushered inside and enveloped in a tight hug.
The sensation nearly knocks the wind out of him, not just because of Saguaro's strength and size but because...well, he truthfully wasn't expecting such a warm welcome after getting the cold shoulder from Clavell. Or, he had been hoping for a warm welcome from his father figure only to be met with what he can only describe as paternal disdain.
Arven hugs Saguaro back. "Hello, Sir..." He says softly, forcing back the lump in his throat. "I, uh... I was just in the area..."
"Oh?" Saguaro asks, disengaging and pulling up a pair of seats for them to chat at a table. "Well, I'd love an opportunity to catch up with one of my most successful students. Please, sit and tell me what brings you by."
It's tempting. It's... It's really, really tempting to sit and chat about Kalos and Bon Applintit and all the good things lately, but Arven can't get the thought of that kid out of his mind.
"Sir..." He starts. "I saw Director Clavell on my way in..."
"Yes?" Saguaro asks, prompting him to continue.
"It, uh, it looked like he was... Maybe babysitting?"
Saguaro's eyes go distant for a second and he sighs. "Ah, so you saw..."
"Yeah." Arven interrupts before his former teacher has a chance to continue. "Who was that? The kid, I mean? And, well, why was the director taking care of--"
"Arven..." Saguaro sighs and stands back up, placing a hand on his shoulder. It's a comforting gesture, warm and heavy, but when Arven meets his gaze, hoping to find some type of answer to his confusion, he's met with sadness and what almost feels like disappointment radiating from the larger man. "Arven, I don't think I should be the one to tell you anything about that little one..." He says, his tone matching that same disappointment in his eyes. "That's a conversation you'll need to have with the child's mother."
"His mother...?" Arven asks, flabbergasted, his mind racing about who that could possibly be.
Saguaro nods. "You might find her at the Pokemon League this time of day, if you're lucky. I assume you don't have her number anymore?"
"Anymore? Wait, Sir, I'm not following here... I seriously have no idea what's g--"
Then it hits him.
You.
He slept with you.
It was...well, almost three-ish years ago? So...the timing would work out for a toddler. Not that he really knows what kids look like at different ages, but...
A toddler.
His toddler.
His toddler?
Arven doesn't realize his knees buckled. All he knows is that he's sitting in a chair, presumably placed beneath him by Saguaro just in time, a mug of water in his hands, while his teacher rubs gently at his back.
"Arven? Son, are you okay?"
"Don't say 'son'..." Arven mumbles out, his hands shaking as he grips the cup with near-white knuckles. He feels bile churning in his stomach. "I... I gotta go to the League... She hasn't spoken to me since...since..." He's trying to do the math in his head, but there's a block there, and between the rush of nausea and extreme anxiety, he can't focus.
"I gotta go. Sorry. I mean, thanks." He says, standing unsteadily before rushing from the room, Saguaro's protests falling on deaf ears.
Luckily, the Pokemon League isn't terribly far from Mesagoza, and Arven can make the trip on foot fairly easily in under an hour.
The whole trip there, he's panicking internally.
Did you really have his kid? That's...that's not what he actually saw was it? Then...then who was that little boy? Whose was he?
Beyond that, why hadn't you told him? Was this why you got all bitchy and dropped off the face of the earth? Well, maybe it wasn't bitchy...maybe it was hormones? But still! You never told him! Sure, he had to cancel your video calls several times, but... But you still could have found a way to tell him! You didn't need to block him! Was this why everyone else shut him out, too?
Actually... It all kinda lined up now. You blocked him, then...some number of months later, everyone else stopped talking to him, too. Even Penny stopped sending him the occasional meme.
What the fuck. Everyone thinks he's a deadbeat dad.
He is a deadbeat dad.
Or...is he? Can he be a deadbeat dad if he didn't know? ...Maybe that makes it worse? Fuck.
Maybe you didn't want him around for any of this, and that's why you didn't tell him... You knew he'd be a shitty dad or something. After all, what kind of dad could Arven be when his own dad didn't even want him? 
No.
No, that's not right.
That's no way to think about any of this.
Something...
Something else has to be at play here.
Arven has talked himself down from the precipice by the time he's made it to the top of the hill on which the League building sits.
He's just about to open the door to enter when a smartly dressed person with long, teal hair exits, arms crossed and a stern look on their face.
"Hello. How can I help you today?" They ask formally.
"Hi, yeah. My name's Arven Sada-Turo. I'm looking for, uh..." He falters for a moment before giving your full name and title. It felt strange saying the whole thing out loud again, like lead on his tongue.
The person hums at him critically, then gestures with their chin back toward the building.
"Let's talk, Arven Sada-Turo."
He breathes a sigh of relief, following them through the doors.
"Oh, thank you so much. You know, I spent the last few years in Kalos, and I just came back today, so--"
"You've been in Kalos?" The person--Rika, according to the nameplate and pronouns on her desk--says. "Kalos is pretty nice. You must've been having a great time over there." She goes on, taking a seat and folding her hands in front of her.
"I, uh..." Arven eyes her, unsure. "I was... Um, I just came back to, um... Actually, is she gonna be here soon?" He asks, confused.
"Please." Rika gestures to the chair across from her desk. "Have a seat. We can have a chat while we wait for my dear friend, yeah?" She asks, her eyes narrowing like a Luxray.
"Um... Sure..." Arven says, sitting down uneasily. "So, she'll be down? I, uh, haha... I never bothered completing the League challenge while I was in school, so..." He looks around the lobby. "I dunno where she might...um...be..ya know, in the building..."
"Yeah, don't worry about it," Rika speaks over him glibly, leaning back, crossing her ankles up on her desk. "I just wanna talk for a second. So you just decided to come back to Paldea to see my dear, sweet friend? Just a little pleasure call, or...?"
Arven splutters. "Excuse me?"
"I'm just trying to get your angle here, Sada-Turo. I don't see why you're bothering to come back after all these years. She's built a good life for herself, y'know? Super successful Champion, one of the best field researchers for our scientists. One hell of a mom. She doesn't need you or whatever pathetic excuse of an offer you might be trying to attempt here."
"Wh...What?!" Arven stammers, his heart pounding painfully in his chest when your status as a parent was confirmed. "I didn't even come back to see her! I came back to get the rest of my stuff and move permanently back to Kalos! It was only--"
"Then why are you here? Why don't you go?" Rika asks, her eyes going dark. "We don't need you. She doesn’t need you."
Arven's heart sinks. Rika was re-affirming all his worst thoughts, and as much as he feels urged to believe them, he fights it. This isn't a conversation he needs to have with some random woman at the Pokemon League. Who was she anyway? Your girlfriend? No, she called you a dear friend, but still…
Ugh, Rika’s relationship to you doesn't matter! He needs to talk to you.
"Is she coming down or not? Is she even in the building?"
"Not anymore." Rika smirks, checking her phone.
Arven audibly sighs and stands to leave. "You're wasting my time. I need to talk to her about...whatever this is that’s going on." He says, gesturing vaguely as he leaves the building.
"Oh, now you wanna talk to her? Why? Wanna try and convince yourself you're better than your own daddy because of your follower count or some tauros-shit?" Rika calls after him. "See if she gives you the time of day, Sada-Turo! Just see!"
Her words sting. Really badly, actually, but Arven tries to just let them slide off his back best he can. That woman doesn't know him. She isn't the priority right now.
You are.
He just needs to figure out some way to find and talk to you…
His phone buzzes obnoxiously in his pocket. He spares a glance at it as he hails a taxi on the off-chance that maybe you'd reach out, then turns the screen off. He doesn't have time for his PR rep right now.
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cumulo-stratus · 7 months
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“There’s nothing wrong with being different.”
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Pairing: Dad!Spencer reid x Dad!reader
Description: Spencer and his husband talk to their daughter when she gets in trouble for punching someone (daughter is 10)
Warnings: Little bit of homophobia, lemme know if there's anything else!
Flufftober day 8: Kidfic/Petfic
A/N: I feel so bad cus I'm like a week behind on flufftober but I'm trying guys I swear 😭 anyways proof read by the lovely @ssaspenceswife!! (Totally check out her works it's way better than mine lmao)
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Y/n sighed as he stepped into the drivers seat of the car, spencer sliding in next to him. They had been enjoying their day off of work together, lounging while their daughter was at school for the day. That was of course until Spencers phone rang…
Spencer lounged on top of Y/n, practically flopped on top of him, the tv played some show quietly in the back round, but the couple were much too focused on each other to quite care. They had been discussing Poes works until spencers phone starts buzzing on the coffee table, alearting him of an incoming call.
Y/n looked at spencer curiously, silently asking him to pick it up, and find out what was going on. But when the familiar crease between spencers brow became apparent his husband frowned at the discontentment of his lover. Spencer gave Y/n the universal signal to wait and answered the phone.
“Hello?”
(hello are you doctor reid?)
“yes thats me, is there something wrong?”
(we apologize for interrupting your busy works schedule but you need to come pick up your daughter, shes been suspended.)
“Suspended?!”
This finally caught Y/ns attention as he looked at his husband confused. Spencer stared back equally puzzled and continued the conversation.
(She physically assulted another student, and is suspended until the end of the week. One guardian registered with he school may come pick your daughter up.)
"okay, thank you someone will be there to pick her up soon. Buh bye-"
spencer seemed to want the conversation over with as soon as possible when he said his goodbyes to the receptionist.
"Spence- what happened, was it the school? Is Esther okay?"
"she punched a kid.."
Y/ns face fell in disappointment- and then it turned to anger
"we taught her to never resort to violence?! What happened?"
Spencer just sighed and raised himself from his previous sitting position to start making his way to the door. "I'll go pick her up, we'll talk about it when we get back.
Needless to say the car ride home was silent. Spencer was angry but he knew better than to take it out on his daughter. It would only end in a fight, and that got them nowhere
finally they arrived at thé family's apartment- Esther's other father stood in the attached living room with his arms crossed over his chest. Esther only looked down shamefully, gripping the straps of her beloved astronaut backpack. Y/n sighed in resignation and invited his daughter to sit on couch; sandwiched in between her dads. Y/n started;
"Esther- I thought we taught you to be better this, you know better than that- better than violence."
"I know dad I'm sorry- but he deserved it!
this time it's Spencer's turn to speak, "no one deserves to be punched Esther- and you know that"
both Esther and her fathers attention are pulled away from eachother when they hear a snort/giggle from y/n after Spencer said no one deserves to be punched. Spencer gives his husband a warning glare and that in combination with the aforementioned husbands antics, lightened the mood enough to release a small giggle from the child. After Spencer pulled his eyes away from his husband and put the attention back on his daughter she started to explain herself ; " well this one deserved it- he always mean to you guys- I was just standing up for you!” the couple looked up from their daughter and at each other with confusion. Y/n was the first to shake off the confusion and ask Esther what she ment.
“How would he be mean to us, we dont know this boy?”
“he always says that having 2 dads is weird and un natural. and i always tell him its not and its normal but he wont listen! and then he kept saying means and untrue s stuff and i- i, i couldnt stop myself! he was just being such a dick!”
spencer sent esther a stern warning glare at her language before his and his husbands face softened. Y/n reached out and pulled esther in for a hug asking “bug, why didnt you tell us- we could’ve done something?”
Esther just sighs and hugs back before answering “i told the teachers, and they didn‘t do anything..” Esther voice was deflated and when she told her fathers about the schools lack of response to her cries for help, the men shared a look that said they’d talk about it later.
spencer joined the hug forming one big ball of reid family on the couch. When spencer and Y/n finally released their daughter from the binding hug spencer put one hand on each of esther’s shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes saying “having two dads, never a bad thing, and i dont ever want you to think anything different. Understand?” before Esther could respond Y/n cut in and said, “and theres nothing wrong with being different either- just look at your dad, he’s different and a hottie” Y/n winked at his husband and Esther just exclaimed “ewwww!!” loudly, making both spencer and Y/n laugh out loud. Hoping to lighten the mood spencer responded to his husbands comment with a “save it for later- handsome” and a mischievous smile.
After a family dinner, (with lots of subtle encouragement and affirmations) Esther was feeling better, but tired. So she climbed into bed, received a kiss from both her fathers, and promptly fell asleep before her dad could even turn on the night light. Y/n and spencer were thankful for her almost immediate restful state, needing a moment alone to finally process the events of the day.
when the couple retreated back to their shared master bedroom Y/n took the opportunity of his husband just standing there to engulf him in a big hug, needing the familiar comfort of his husband. And there they stood, for who knows how long. At least 5 minutes. maybe 10 if were being realistic. But hey what can I say, they hadn’t had a moment alone since their daughter to home and lets just d say they needed it.
Spencer was the first to break the comfortable silence, saying “i still cant believe the school didn’t do anything about it- remind me to call them tomorrow before we leave for work.” Y/n just nodded and gave spencer a chaste kiss on the lips- leading him over to the bed and pulling him down on top of him. spencer chuckled and reminded Y/n that they were still wearing their day clothes, and that dental health was extremely important yet they hadn’t brushed their teeth yet. Y/n chuckled and hummed all smiley at his husbands antics.
After brushing their teeth together and y/n (jokingly) trying to get spencer to sleep with no clothes- despite the not very well insulted apartment and the blistering cold just outside the apartment walls. Y/n’s defense was that he could keep spencer warm. needles to say Y/n didn’t win that argument. but the couple still went to bed smiling, curled up in each others arms, leaving the issues of the day for tomorrow.
The End
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flamewind · 5 months
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The magical moment when you must accept that your fluffy little “I just need to write something cute and uplifting for a change” story has gotten completely out of hand… 😅 Man, I love these silly boys. 😁
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awyeahitssam · 2 months
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“Loki, over here,” he called out, and the room hushed. Morgan wiggled deeper into the crook of his elbow, cooing. 
The Aesir watched Loki approach with wide eyes. Tony ignored their reactions, as usual, and smiled at the other man. 
“Stark,” Loki returned stiffly, eyes locked on Tony's, not acknowledging the baby in his arms. “I thank you for your hospitality. Congratulations are in order.”
“Yeah, sure,” Tony stepped closer and nudged Loki with his shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Lokes. It’s been a minute.”
There was a moment when Loki remained stiff, and then he pushed back into Tony’s shoulder and offered him a smirk. “You can’t have had time to miss me in between missing sleep.”
“Oh, I can and I have,” Tony teased back. “Who am I meant to match wits with while you’re away? Lovely as Morgan is, she hasn’t got speech down just yet, and I can only hold both halves of the conversation for so long before running out of oxygen.”
Loki followed his gaze down to Morgan, eyes going wide at his first glance. She was swaddled in the green and gold blanket Loki had left for Tony to find after news of the birth. It filled him with warmth. Introducing a babe to the world was an important event, and this is what Stark chose to wrap her into. A combination of their colors. 
Said mortal caught his eye as he glanced up and smiled. “Would you like to hold her?”
Loki's heart stuttered in his chest. “Truly?”
“It’s safe to say that’s a skill you’ve picked up at some point, yeah?” Tony checked. “I mean, I can show you how if you want.” 
“I assure you I have had many occasions to hold an infant,” Loki said. “Did you wish for a Blessing?”
“A… what?” 
“A protection for your daughter. It is common for me to bless new Aesir on their naming day. Is that not why you wish for me to hold her?”
Tony blinked. “No. I just thought that you might like to? I’m not trying to scam you into… blessing her? And would it even be a genuine blessing if it’s an expectation or request?”
Loki looked up from Morgan to meet his gaze. “I am very powerful,” he murmured. “My blessings are always effective. Genuinity doesn’t enter the equation.”
“Now the question is, did you actually just use that colloquialism, or did All Speak translate one of yours into one of mine?”
Loki rolled his eyes, as if Tony could not see the spark of mirth in them. “It seemed fitting, given my audience.”
“Aww, you’re talking math for me,” Tony teased, smile quick and warm. “If you want to give my kid a blessing I’m hardly gonna stop you, Lokes. But it’s conditional. You bless her, you’ve got to put up with me hugging you.”
Tony watched Loki’s posture ease with interest. The moment the word ‘conditional,’ had left his lips, Loki’s face had done an interesting spasm that meant he was either about to eviscerate him, or Tony had actually managed to hurt his feelings. He’d have to rethink his phrasing in the future, even if he had just been teasing.
“Oh, very well. Hand her over.”
Despite the put upon tone, Loki was careful as he accepted the baby from Tony. Morgan settled quickly in his secure hold, which was a pleasant change. She’d been whining most of the morning whenever Tony handed her off, though admittedly this was only the third time he’d done so. Something about Pepper—presumably the introduction of her floral perfume—had set Morgan off, and Rhodey had been too gentle in his caution. 
She’d more or less been a perfect angel in his arms, though, which left Pepper muttering to their daughter about not inflating his ego. 
Loki began to chant, the sound almost melodic. The eye of every Aesir was on them now, and the others at the party seemed to have caught on. It left them with plenty of gawkers, but relative silence. It was as if Loki’s words were sucking all other noise from the room, soft and old and gorgeous. 
No matter how fascinating Tony found the way All Speak could find no translation for the tongues Loki spoke in, he was more caught up on the way Morgan’s pudgy hand curled into Loki’s shirt, wrinkling the material. The slight imperfection in such a perfect scene made him smile. His daughter would be a force of chaos, and was being blessed by its god. It makes something in him bubble up effervescently, and this was not a moment for laughter but he is tempted by it regardless. 
When Loki fell silent it was with his lips mere millimeters above Morgan’s brow, and then he pressed a kiss to her head. The familiar green spark that Tony associated with Loki’s sedir blossomed at the contact, and the glow of it spread over Morgan in a gentle, pulsating wave. 
“She will be healthy, in body as well as mind.” Loki said, voice just as enrapturing now that he was speaking English again. It's a tone that threatened to catch all of Tony’s attention and pull it away from his daughter. 
He pulled both of them close to him, instead. He had already warned Loki, and the mage hardly seems against being drawn into his arms. He let out an amused huffing noise and tilted his head to rest gently aside Tony’s own. Tony very carefully didn't crush Morgan, who's hold on Loki had not loosened a bit, though she did make a soft noise at the feel and smell of her father so close. 
“Keeping a good hold of him, hm? Good luck, sweetheart.” His chin rose, face alight in a smile, dangerously close to Loki’s green eyes. “Thanks.”
The whispering increased. Loki, aware of their audience, murmured, “Our people shall talk.” 
Tony’s laughter was warm, his response carefree, “Undoubtedly. Should we give them more to say?”
Loki's eyes glittered with mischief and amusement. He smirked. "I've just kissed one Stark. What's another?"
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