Endless Summer post-canon / Aleister x Grace / 2k words / kidfic / fluff with a side of bittersweet
getting a head start on my 400k celebration with a request from @marmolady who wanted more Grace and Aleister!
Fair warning: it tipped heavily into Aleister-being-a-dad. The man does have a pristine three-year-old and a great deal of feelings about mud. And other terrifying things.
No frogs were harmed in the making of the fic.
Aleister had never quite known what to do with children, which was a very awkward predicament for a man who had produced one on his own.
āItās going to be different when itās yours,ā Grace had said. Aleister had nodded and then quietly began reading every parenting guide he could lay his hands on. And, to her credit, Grace had been right: it was different. Through a rigorous combination of peer-reviewed childhood development journals and more trial-and-error than heād liked to admit, Aleister had successfully forged a deep bond with his son. It helped immensely that, in matters of character at least, little Reginald was his carbon copy: observant, cautious, and far more interested in leafing through proper, grown-up nature encyclopedias than anything brightly coloured that made a noise.
It was the other three-year-old children that remained a separate and very terrifying species, both to him and Reginald alike.
His sonās hand was tight in his since the moment they stepped out of the car. Grace was already far ahead of them, exchanging hugs with Taylor like they always did, as if no years and no ocean had ever come between. And hearing the car, the McKenzie boy came pelting round the corner of the house, barefoot, more mud creature than a child, too fast even for his own father to follow.
The boys had met before, three or four times now, but at three years old, it amounted to no acquaintance at all. They had told Reginald on the aeroplane and over breakfast and once again in the car that heād meet his friend. His cousin, as Grace insisted. By what had to be a terrible joke at Aleisterās expense, the two families were now united not just by bonds of friendship, but by marriage as well. It was just his luck. As if it werenāt enough that fate had seen fit to give both boys the very same birthday, it had to also grant him Jake McKenzie clapping his back with familiarity that made him shudder, and openly calling him his half-brother-in-law, as if such a position existed.
And so when Grace saw his flight schedule, she insisted on carving out a few days for a birthday playdate. They had told Reginald that theyād visit an aunt and uncle with a son exactly his age, and he had nodded each time they reminded him. But Aleister could tell that the name had landed on nothing his boy could actually remember, and the cousin who came with it was a stranger by any measure that counted.
āHi!ā Mikey said with a big grin on his tiny face, already opening his arms for a hug. Heād been promised a friend, so a friend he was determined to make.
Reginald took a step back, saying nothing, but both his fists curled into Aleisterās trousers. And for one moment, watching his son hang back, Aleister was not in Louisiana at all. He was seven, and it was his own birthday, and someone from the staffāsurely not his fatherāhad arranged for the appropriate children to attend. Except he found himself standing in a corner of a room while the guests all played together, and he was just a strange child talking to no one. Odd, that one, he had heard a mother whisper to another, as though he could not hear. Peculiar fellow, heād heard at another gathering, years later.
His hand dropped to his sonās curls as he murmured something soothing and encouraging, but his stomach lurched with a pure, animal dread. Please. Donāt let that happen to him too.
Mikey remained undeterred, staying a good foot from them, hands still outstretched as he opened his mouth and unleashed a booming string of syllables of what had to be further greeting. The words spilled out of the boy all at once, the way water comes off a roof in a storm, faster than the gutters could take it, sounds collapsing into one another, and Aleister, used to Reginaldās slow and careful diction, looked to Jake and Taylor with a plea for subtitles.
āWoah. Easy there, buddy,ā Jake laughed and dropped to his knees in the muddy yard. āRemember what Miss Sarah said?ā
āSlow,ā Mikey said with a solemn nod.
āThatās right.ā Jake beamed at him and ruffled his hair. āHeās got more to say than mouth to say it with yet,ā he explained, looking to Aleister. āSpeech lady reckons heāll catch up. Kid came out of the gate runninā and figured talkinā could wait.ā
Mikey patted his fatherās shoulder in return and considered the situation. His arms dropped to his sides as it came to him that the hug was plainly not happening. His brow furrowed with the same intensity Aleister had seen in the boyās mother, and then suddenly his whole face lit up like a Christmas tree when he arrived at what was evidently his finest offer.
āWanna see my frogs?ā
The fists in Aleisterās trousers loosened as Reginald tentatively peered from behind him.
āFrogs?ā he repeated. āYou have frogs?ā
āMm-hm!ā Mikey beamed and offered his hand once again. āInna back. Green ones. A whole family. Cāmon. Gotta see āem.ā
And frogs, as it turned out, was the magical word, because Reginald let go of Aleister so fast he swayed.
āI know all about frogs,ā Reginald said, tentatively taking his newly acquired friendās hand. āDaddy got me a book about animals. A big one. With photos. But I never saw a real one.ā
Aleister knew the book. He had read it to him hundreds of times, sitting on the floor in the nursery with Reginald in his lap and the big glossy pages spread in front of them. Reginaldās little fingers traced the photos while Aleister supplied the species names in both English and Latin. It was their time, their own little country in the middle of a big house in an even bigger world, where for one hour no one else was invited and no one dared to interrupt.
The two boys set off, and Aleister followed them without thinking. The garden in the back wasāhe searched for the right word, and arrived, reluctantly, at honest. It made no pretence of being anything other than a place where a boisterous three-year-old could do as he liked, with plenty of shade from old trees and a good view of the bayou, all enclosed by a tall and sturdy fence that even Aleister had to admit was a sensible one.
Mikey walked over to the edge of the lawn where a broad and flat leaf hung over the mud. He did not touch it with his hands. This much, Aleister noted with cautious approval, the child seemed to understand. Instead, he picked up a stick and flopped onto his belly without a thought, gesturing at Reginald to do the same.
Good lord, Aleister thought, watching his sonās pristine trousers make contact with the damp Louisiana soil. Itās contagious.
Mikey lifted the edge of the leaf with a gentleness that was completely unexpected from a creature moving at the speed of light. Underneath there was indeed a huddle of frogs, three of them, in various sizes, glancing at the visitors with an utter and complete lack of interest. Both boys stared back at them, holding their breath, too scared to spook the tiny miracle.
āBaby frog,ā Mikey whispered eventually, pointing with his chin at the smallest one. āHeās hugginā his mama, anā the big oneās the daddy.ā
Reginald shook his head. āThe big one must be the mummy. Lady frogs are bigger than boys.ā
Mikey slowly turned to glance towards his parents. From the corner of his eye, Aleister caught Taylor standing on her tiptoes to prove that such height difference was not limited only to amphibians, and he had to mask his chuckle with a cough when the child turned back with a nod.
āāand they have sticky toes,ā Reginald continued like a tiny professor delivering a lecture. āFor climbing trees. They eat and sing at night because they areā¦ā His whole face scrunched with the effort of remembering the word. āNocānockānocturnal,ā he finished.
āTheyāre soo loud,ā Mikey agreed.
āAnd they breathe through their skin.ā
Mikey only stared at him with his mouth open. āā¦whoa,ā he managed finally, his eyes wide with awe.
Aleister couldnāt stop the swell of pride blooming in his chest. Heād been so worried his son would be the odd one just like himself; but there he was, citing nature facts no average three-year-old had any business knowing, and the very oddness he had braced himself to defend his son against turned out to be the thing the other child found most worth having.
Graceās hand slid into his without a word and squeezed it lightly as their son kept going.
āCan I touch them?ā Reginald said, barely breathing. āI wonāt hurt them. My hands are wet, the book says frogs need to be wet.ā
Mikey let out a deep and very disappointed sigh. āMama says no touchinā,ā he grumbled, exasperated at the injustice. āOnly lookinā. Or the frogs get sick.ā
Aleister, who was already calculating the average salmonella load carried by an American green tree frog, also let out a sigh, but his was one of profound relief. At least the childās mother still retained a modicum of common sense, even if his worry would have been for his own offspring first.
āTell you what,ā Taylor said, crouching next to the boys with an agility that was commendable considering she was expecting another swamp creature come summer. āWhy donāt we let the frogs rest for now, and you and Reggie can play a little bit before lunch?ā
āAnd cake?ā
āAnd cake.ā
With another deep sigh, Mikey let the leaf drop just as carefully as he lifted it, and looked at Reginald with his brows knit together.
āThey gonna need a better house,ā he managed eventually. āWhatcha think?ā
āYou want to build a house for the frogs?ā Taylor repeated in an obvious attempt at providing a translation for Reginald and everyone else present.
āMhm!ā Mikey nodded. āBiig one. With rooms for evāone. Anā a bathroom,ā he giggled.
āAnd a pond,ā Reginald added quickly. āFrogs need to be wet.ā
Mikeyās hand landed in the mud with a loud splat.
āWet,ā he said with a grin that looked like someone copied it off his father and pasted it on the miniature face.
Before Aleister could utter a word of protest, Reginald raised his own hand and let it fall into the mud alongside his cousinās. And then again, and again, and again, his delighted laughter rising in proportion to Aleisterās horror.
āDonāt look so panicked, sugar.ā Graceās hand moved up to his forearm. āItās perfectly age-appropriate kind of play. He needs to learn to socialize with kids his age before he starts nursery.ā
Aleister only sighed. Grace was right, of course. When was she not? He only wished the socializing happened in some cleaner place, or inside the house at least.
āYou can think of it as a physics experiment,ā Taylor offered him another reasonable explanation like a lifeline. āThe mud here is a prime example of a non-Newtonian fluid.ā
āWet,ā Reginald announced with a grin matching Mikeyās and slapped the mud again.
Right. Wet. That, at least, the state seemed to have in abundance. He could feel a drop of wet roll down his back underneath the shirt that was supposed to be made from a very breathable fabric, suitable even for tropical climates. As his half-brother-in-law would put it without any decorum, and Aleister would not in a thousand years confess to agreeing with him, tropical climate my ass.
āJust think of all the sensory processing thatās happening right now,ā Grace chimed in.
āI know,ā Aleister murmured. He sent her the article himself.
āGood.ā Grace smiled at him, then turned to their son. āReggie, sweetheart, take off your shoes.ā
Aleister looked to his wife, completely betrayed. āGrace, please. He is going toāā
āHe is going to work on his proprioception. You know, the sense that affects your balance and reflexes?ā
āI know what proprioception is, Grace, I am intimately familiar with the developmental literature, but he isāā
āThen sit down and stop fretting,ā Grace said calmly, completely unbothered by the fact that their son and heir to their names slipped in the muck, burying the last chance of ever seeing the linen trousers white again.
Aleister tried anyway. Hope always dies last.
āDo you think the stains would wash out?ā
Grace only patted his knee and declined to lie to him.
Drawing again after weeks of not drawing is so fun I love drawing I forgot how fun drawing can be. This is why im still drawing. Its so fun! Yay yippee yay yay!
Itās been a while so I just wanted to pop in and say hello, hope youāre doing well.
Did you hear the news of the oot remake? What are your opinions on it? (You donāt have to answer this ask, I just wanted to do check in! Hope you have a lovely day <3)
Trippy!! Hello!! š
Thanks for checking in, it has been a while! I hope everything is going well for you too! Howāve you been?
I did! Itās exciting! Weāve only seen a teeny teaser so Iām not going to jump to any strong conclusions yet. But I think itās going to be okay, OoT is like my tied favourite game of all time, the other got a remake in 2023 I think and that turned out okay too.
I just like to remember that itās never going to replace or take away the original itās just going to be a new way to see a story we all love and I like to give everything a chance. Plus seeing any kind of Time and Malon again in this big year!! Iām ready!
Ive been fine! working on art and writing -oh i did graduate highschool last year! idk if we've talked since then but, :3 big news!
Personally (im excited to see what comes of it and am very happy for those who've been wanting this) i kinda wish we moved past the remakes/remasters and did knew stuff with the francaise
Like, i love BOTW it was a huge thing for LOZ but wanted to move away from that era and now we're going backwards...
I honestly would really like if we got back into the pixel/2d style just because it feels like all the games as of late are so focused on hyper realism that its getting hard to tell what game is which. BUT WHO KNOWS! You're right in saying we've only seen a glimpse of it -which was a trailer and likely not even actual game play- so we will have to see!
Iām glad! I always love seeing your art pop up! and congratulations!! š„³ thatās huge!!! I hope everything went well <3
I know what you mean, remakes can be fun but we seem to be in age of constant remakes and reboots itād be nice to see a new LoZ era but good things take time I guess, Iām sure theyāre planning something!
Thatād be so cool to see! Realistic graphics are impressive but nothing beats a good art style in a game. Some of my personal favourites have such timeless graphics because theyāre not realistic you know? Bring back the scrunkly box people!!
Hopefully thereāll be a little more to see soon. I will say I hope they donāt touch the soundtrack too much! Itās already perfect!!
Itās been a while so I just wanted to pop in and say hello, hope youāre doing well.
Did you hear the news of the oot remake? What are your opinions on it? (You donāt have to answer this ask, I just wanted to do check in! Hope you have a lovely day <3)
Trippy!! Hello!! š
Thanks for checking in, it has been a while! I hope everything is going well for you too! Howāve you been?
I did! Itās exciting! Weāve only seen a teeny teaser so Iām not going to jump to any strong conclusions yet. But I think itās going to be okay, OoT is like my tied favourite game of all time, the other got a remake in 2023 I think and that turned out okay too.
I just like to remember that itās never going to replace or take away the original itās just going to be a new way to see a story we all love and I like to give everything a chance. Plus seeing any kind of Time and Malon again in this big year!! Iām ready!
I knew poinsettias "faked" having big flowers by just turning some leaves red but I didn't know the real tiny flowers in the middle looked like such idiots
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