headcanon, monroe is one of those parents who hears that one of their kids is trying to get into a new hobby or wants to get into a new hobby, and he instantly goes to the store and buys EVERYTHING even mildly associated with it for the kid.
"hey dad, ive been kinda thinking about getting into crochet." and then they go to school, come back, and their room is full of yarn, hooks of every size and shape, needles, poly-fil, and even random items that the crochet-masters he bugged at the store recommended to him (headlamps and stuff).
he'd also be the best parent for lgbt kids. specifically trans kids. he'd be looking up shit constantly, asking pronouns and new names, buying stuff with flag colors, and wogeing in transphobic peoples faces. rosalee would be awesome too, but would be calmer about it.
Yes! I love this and it's so in-character for him!
Of the blutbau triplets (which we have some blog headcanons for if you're new here! that I'm about to add to lol), Felix comes out as gay when he's in 10th grade, on the ride to school. When he gets home that day, his parents are waiting in the living room, which looks like the Pride section of Target (R.I.P.) threw up on it. There's rainbow bunting on the fireplace, a rainbow cover on the couch, rainbow balloons and streamers hanging from the ceiling, and a big rainbow slice cake that says "Congrats on Coming Out!" in frosting letters. Monroe and Rosalee are in matching rainbow cardigans and party hats. Felix is absolutely mortified, god parents are so embarrassing! But underneath that, he knows he's loved.
Monroe proceeds to become the most over-invested stereotypical PFLAG parent imaginable (in the best way). He audits queer studies classes at a local university. He volunteers for the city's Pride committee. He sponsors and chaperones events for Felix's high school GSA. He knows the whole world won't be a safe space for his son, but he makes damn sure to create as many of them as he possibly can for Felix to run to when he needs.
The [Redacted]-Calvert home becomes a refuge for closeted kids who are friends of the triplets and don't know how to tell their parents. Once or twice over the years, one of his kids comes home with a crying kid carrying a backpack in tow, when telling their parents didn't go well. Every time, Monroe looks at his son and remembers holding him as a baby and every moment of watching him grow up, and cannot imagine how any parent could turn their own child away for any reason, much less for something that hurts no one.
Rosalee is less effusive, but no less supportive. Those few times her kids bring a friend home crying, Rosalee gives them mom hugs and makes up the guest room for them, and once they're soundly asleep or having dinner with her family and starting to smile again, she quietly ducks out and goes straight to their parents to give them a piece of her mind. Monroe can't imagine abandoning one of his kids, but Rosalee can imagine a dozen ways to shame someone into the ground for doing so. She's so good at it and so persuasive that by the end, one of the couples actually thanks her for it and begs her to help with apologizing to their kids.
When some one million mom or other tries to get a queer YA novel banned from the school library, they quickly find they fucked with the wrong fuchsbau. Rosalee tries reason and she tries diplomacy. But when the woman starts passing around lists of yet more books to ban and making noises about enforcing "birth names" and "correct bathrooms," Rosalee ropes Nick into helping staff the next PTA bake sale and introduces him to everyone, including Mrs. One Million Moms.
Poor Nick, totally oblivious, greets her with a smile and a mild look of surprise when she woges in front of him. Rosalee makes sure to mention, all smiles, how Nick is such a dear old family friend who's really helped her with so many little problems over the years. Nick gets bashful and puzzled at the praise. Mrs. One Million Moms turns white as a sheet and come Monday, suddenly her zeal for banning queer books and forcing trans kids to be deadnamed in class has mysteriously dried up.
Rosalee knows that was fighting dirty. She doesn't give a shit. You can't take the high road with people that dedicated to crawling around in the mud. It's not just about her own kids, though that would be enough. She's held a kid whose name she didn't even know yet while they cried so hard they nearly threw up because of people like that woman. When it comes to making them feel safe, she'll fight far dirtier than that if she has to.
(Also, yes. When Farrin casually mentions she's thinking about taking up painting one night at dinner, she wakes up the next morning to find an easel with a fresh canvas next to her bed, acrylic paints, oil paints, watercolors, watercolor paper, and every brush the local craft store had. It's...a bit much. But the thing about Monroe and Rosalee is that their support always comes without pressure. She knows if she decides after a week that painting isn't for her, she'll never hear a word of guilt-tripping or disappointment from her parents about it. The materials will all go into storage, or be donated, or passed on to some friend or other, and she'll get the same level of over-the-top support the next time she wants to try something.)
