⌯⌲ kinda wanted to write something for myself real quick. i personally don’t want any kids, & i would never date anyone who does, but idk. here’s an au with a fem!reader that doesn’t know how to react, i guess.
｡𖦹°‧ daydreaming about a date with an older single!dadzai ｡𖦹°‧
“You… have a kid?” You ask, looking at your date sitting across from you, the table arranged neatly in the fancy restaurant you normally would never step foot in under any other circumstance. He smiles, warm, a little proud, before nodding once.
“Yeah, I have a son,” he tells you again, and while you haven’t known him terribly long, you would have never pinned Dazai as a father. He’s… odd, a bit out there, someone you would easily describe as irresponsible, a jokester, and, well, suicidal. Your first time meeting him was when he stood on the cliffside, hands in his pants pockets, bandages around his neck and arms, and staring out into the open horizon as if he was looking for a reason. A sign. You were out on a jog, you had no intentions of wanting to prevent a death, but the sight had a pit deep in your stomach enough to go up to him, ask him what he was up to, and he merely smiled — as if he had made a decision right then and there — before saying ‘admiring the view’.
You two have been seeing each other since then, this bit of a weirdo somehow wooing you into a first date with his poetic speech, calculated turn of phrase, and charming wit. Then a second. Then a third. You’ve been on so many, but you still don’t really feel like you know him. And now, suddenly, he’s dropping a bomb on you that he’s a dad.
The thought though that he was willing to leave a child behind puts a sour taste in your mouth now. We all have our issues, sure, but the ability to leave behind your child without a second thought? How could someone do that so easily? You suppose you have no room to judge, you have thought about it yourself once or twice, and while there aren’t any “little you”s running around, there are still people that you’d be leaving behind that would put a sour taste in a different stranger’s mouth if they knew.
“What’s his name?” You entertain, testing the waters to see if this is where you want to bow out, call it quits, run for the hills and try again. But you found what seems like a rare gem out in the wild, forcing yourself back out into the open world again after such an intriguing man, you’d probably never date again.
“Yuusei. I call him Yuu or Sei, just depends on what comes out of my mouth first,” his eyes watch you, ever observant, noticing how you stopped eating, hands clasped into front of you with white knuckles, and the smile you’re wearing is — unbeknownst to you — tight and a bit aghast at this news. “Does this bother you?” He asks simply, those usual solemn eyes you have grown so used to now alight, flickering with the dim atmosphere of the restaurant, and his cheek rests on his folded hands as he smiles in return. A challenge, if you will.
This isn’t his first rodeo. Most women he encounters often turn tail the moment he mentions having a kid, a young one at that. He isn’t stupid, well aware that being with him comes the added responsibility of becoming a parental figure also — he didn’t initially want that either, but he’s done his best to step up, and he would expect a partner to be willing to try if they chose to stay. However, he also understands and appreciates their honesty in walking away, no matter how much he may have liked them. Watching you, he already sees one foot out the door as you take in his words.
“Yuusei?” You repeat. He nods. “Did you name him?” His eyebrow twitches at the follow up question, not expecting it, but not letting his guard down either.
“No, his mother did. She gets upset when I call him by a nickname, though,” he chuckles, soft, and his head lifts again as his gaze downcasts, roaming over the table to avoid looking at you. “But I like his name. And she was kind enough to let him have my family name, so I can’t complain too much.” Right, it’s usually important for the first son to carry the family name. You just expected him to be a little more… modern.
“You… You must be happy then to have a boy, to carry on your name?” You attempt, trying to be engaged in the conversation, trying not to be rude. Babies and children aren’t necessarily on your mind right now, a topic you tend to avoid, but he was brave enough to mention it, to not keep it from you. It is only polite to ask him about his son.
“That isn’t necessarily something I care about, actually,” he shrugs, his hand coming back down to the table, fingers messing with his utensils, and his sweater sleeve is securely wrapped around his wrist — no bandages aside from his neck. “Obviously, he wasn’t planned, and I won’t sit here and pretend with you that I was excited for the news.” His expression has shifted as he continues talking, that somber yet indifferent impression across his features you would normally see when he is listening to you ramble. Taking in everything you have to say, to register it in his memory, being a good listener. Those wandering eyes find yours, dark and shadowed, before looking away once more. “I actually disappeared when she got in contact with me to tell me.” You stare at him, unblinking, feeling your smile slowly drop as you do. You suck in your lips, along with a deep inhale, then clear your throat as your back straightens and shift in your seat.
“I can’t blame or fault you for that, per se,” you begin, keeping your voice low but gentle. “You’re pretty young, right? It-It had to have been scary.” Young? How old does she think I am? He is still avoiding you, chin propped up on the heel of his hand, the other draped over the table as his fingers occupy themselves with tugging at the sleeve, and he has a far away look in his eye, as if he mentally left the building without you. This is the first time he ever mentioned to anyone that he bolted the moment he got that phone call from the girl, telling him he wanted to keep it. No one could get ahold of him or find him for a good five months; he slipped up, crawled out of the woodwork too soon, and was being reprimanded like a school kid by his closest friend for scaring everyone to death.
When his friend found out why, Dazai was calling her that very night to apologize and see what he can do to help.
“It wasn’t my most shining moment.”
“But you’re here now,” you attempt, giving him a hopeful but sympathetic smile. “You’re telling me about him, and you seem so fond of him to give him nicknames, and he has your family name. You see him, right? Shared custody?” He finally glances at you, this conversation going on longer than he expected, taken aback by your interest, by your consoling him — it wasn’t something he was after, but a small sensation stirs in his chest when he sees your awaiting face, eyes right on him, and he feels strange.
“Yeah, yes,” he nods, removing his hand and forcing himself to look at you head on, trying not to close in on himself like he already was, preparing for the inevitable when you leave and he never sees you again. “I do love my kid. I see him all the time, it’s actually my turn with him now. He’s got a babysitter at home while I’m here.” He runs his palms along his thighs, forcing a tiny smile, and you give him one in return. “I may have disappeared at first, but I have a lot of good people in my life that turned me right back. I was there when he was born, I get along well enough with his mom, and he… he’s okay. He’s like me, but only my good traits. He’s like her in all the other ways.” He goes on, nervous but giddy at the same time to finally tell you about him. He’s wanted to mention being a dad to you for so long, but he really does like you, and he was worried that you’d leave. Of course he isn’t embarrassed or ashamed of having a kid, you have just made it clear to him that being a mother in any capacity isn’t on your list of things to do, and he wanted to spend as much time as he could with you before telling you his “big secret”.
You watch Dazai, the way he shifts in his seat, the smiles and grins he wears while telling you about Yuusei, a child you haven’t met, and something blurs. Not big, but enough to be noticeable, and he finally asks the inevitable: “Would you like to see a picture of him?” His hand is already digging around in his pocket for his phone, and your lips stretch out further at the offer.
“Yes, please,” curiosity always will get the better of you, fingers coming out to grab his phone to stare at the screen, and there’s a bright picture on it with what looks like a toddler-sized Dazai. Your gaze darts between it and your date, a small laugh coming out, and you genuinely can’t believe it. Even down to the smile they look the same. “He looks exactly like you.” You finally get out after comparing for such a long time. He grins, not in any rush to take the phone back so you can keep looking, proud and elated to show off his kid to you, and he accidentally blushes.
“I get that a lot,” he admits, sheepish. “That’s my little mini me. He can cause a lot of trouble if you let him, also kind of like me.” He laughs lightly, a weight off his shoulders, and you carefully hand it back to him.
“Dazai, he’s adorable,” you can’t help but gush. “And his eyes are so pretty, just like yours.” You slip, biting down on your lip for mentioning that aloud, and his blush intensifies at the compliment. “How old is he?” Your finger gently taps on the edge of the device, and his thumb slides to a new photo of Yuusei next to a giant number, turning it to show you.
“He’s six, he just had his birthday,” he points vaguely at a general area of the photo, and he suddenly gets shy. “He’s a bit of a dork like me, he loves video games and begged to have some dragon themed cake and stuff from something he plays. His mom and I kind of had to go in together to pay for everything, but, you know, I’d rather do that than him have two birthdays.”
“Is there an issue with two birthdays?” You blurt without thinking, slightly triggered by that comment since you have always had two birthdays growing up. You maintain your composure well enough, him too blind with gushing over his kid to notice your eyebrow twitch and smile falter.
“Nothing, obviously. He usually gets two birthdays,” he shrugs, closing out of his photos then catch briefly that his home screen is also a picture of Yuusei, where it looks like he’s on the playground standing on a swing — absolutely cheesing right into the camera. You really do love your kid. “He’s just getting to that age where he’s gonna start actually remembering stuff better. I want him to remember that he had a birthday party he actually wanted instead of having two that wasn’t really… special, I guess.” He shrugs, setting his device on the surface, face down, then sits up straighter to give you his undivided attention. You can’t help staring again in a weird silence, unable to figure out what exactly to say to him, and you never want to hang out prizes to people who do the bare minimum, but your feelings and emotions are mixed. A lot just happened in the span of a few minutes, and you have long forgotten your food.
Your eyes flit around to this place, the extravagance, the detailing, the bottle of wine on the table in a fancy ice bucket, the prices you saw on the menu that made you nervous but he insisted it was no bother. How he mentioned he and the mother had to both go all in on his son’s birthday — someone whom you just learned about. You eye his attire, his demeanor, his patience as he waits for you to say something. Teeth gnaw at the inside of your cheek, elbows on the table, and you sigh inwardly.
“I’m really happy that you love being a dad,” you finally say, unsure if those are the words you really want to go with, but it’s too late to take them back. “I know we haven’t gone out long, and I don’t think I have the right to say this, but I find it endearing that you actually love and care about your son.” He stares at you now unblinking, not saying anything, and continuing to wait. You sit there for a second, hesitant, lips parting to correct yourself, worried you maybe said the wrong thing. “I-I might not be saying this right. I… I don’t know the first thing about being a parent. And, quite frankly, I don’t really care to know, but—”
“I need to know if this is going to be the last time we ever see each other,” he interrupts, an incredibly soft and awestrikingly gentle whisper, one that carries grief and understanding, but his eyes — oh, his eyes hold his true feelings. “I’m a big boy, I can handle hearing you want no part of this. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it definitely won’t be the last.” The air isn’t as thick as you expected, the quiet bustling of the evening surrounding you two as you sit politely from one another at the table adorned with decorations and flowers you could care less about. The food was fine, you suppose, but the topic of conversation steered your appetite away, and you start to wonder if this was his version of a goodbye dinner.
Your mouth opens again, and he doesn’t know quite exactly how he is to take your response: “I don’t know, Dazai.”
“You don’t know?” He echoes, a little confused. It’s better than ‘no’, but you don’t know?
“I mean, we’ve only been out a few times. A handful of times—”
“We’ve been seeing each other for a few months,” he speaks slowly, noticing you’re becoming increasingly more frantic, and he wonders if he maybe shouldn’t have done this to you in public.
“Has it really been that long?” You breathe out an uneasy laugh, trying to collect your thoughts, gather your bearings, but it’s quite possible you may have been the one to ruin your chances with this reaction alone. “Wow, I thought… it feels like… Time really flies!” You laugh again, embarrassment encroaching while you sit there in a mental mess of your own creation, trying to see if there’s a way to fix this. He sits there quietly, staring, observing, and he wonders what else you may say through your bewildered babbling.
“You can tell me the truth,” he says. “You don’t need to dance around anything. I told you I can handle whatever you have to say.”
“The problem is I don’t know what to say!” You snap, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I wasn’t prepared to receive news like this. Not that it’s bad news, I just… God, I’m sorry, I-I can’t articulate how I’m feeling or thinking correctly. I sound like a fucking moron.” You grumble, mostly to yourself, and his head cocks.
“I’m not asking you to meet him or be a step mother right at this moment, if that’s what you’re concerned with,” he’s speaking to you in a soothing tone, clearly trying to console you now, but you feel jumbled. Jarred. Inconsiderate. When you walked in here, it was just for a date with Dazai, the charming and funny guy that you literally had to talk off the ledge once that you have been seeing for apparent months. You’re going to be leaving this date with the knowledge that he’s a father, with a child of his own that he clearly loves and takes care of; previously, it was so sweet to see him talk about it, making you feel warm inside.
It was when the realization hit that you’re dating him. You’re pursuing him romantically, and if you make the decision to take him up on his offer to be his girlfriend, you would be subject to his child. If you two were to become serious, like, engagement and marriage serious, there would be that expectation of you becoming a parent. You’re torn in two: on the one hand, you sincerely like him and do want to continue seeing him; on the other, you don’t think you have what it takes to be a guiding force for a 6-year-old.
“Are you okay—”
“Can we keep seeing each other, just the two of us, before I make a decision?” You interrupt. “That way, I don’t traumatize your kid by entering then exiting his life so suddenly, and we… we can just put it behind us and move on.” You rush everything out, looking at him, seeing he’s staring back with a raised brow, and then he sighs some through his nose.
“I’ve upset you.”
“No!” You clear your throat then lower your voice, pretending eyes aren’t momentarily on you. “No, no you didn’t upset me.”
“Then what is it?” His arm finally stretches across the table, gingerly taking your hand in his, and his thumb calmly runs along your knuckles. Your fingers twitch in his palm, looking down at your conjoined hands, and you both love and loathe how it feels.
“I’ve seen this film before,” you murmur. “I’ve lived it. We think highly of each other, think we’re so great now, but later something happens. Maybe it is because of Yuusei, and my atrocious lack of understanding what being a parent means. What if I take you away from him? What if the mom hates me?” He listens intently, not letting you go but instead holding it tighter, finally comprehending the issue. “I’m not so selfish to do that, by the way. I just… I know how I am. I know what I want, at least right now, and I don’t want to hurt a child if things are great now but they’re not so great later.” You sigh, suddenly allowing yourself to clutch his hand tight, shaking your head.
“Am I allowed to ask—”
“What if Yuusei doesn’t like me?!” You groan quietly, already feeling the imaginary defeat drop on your shoulders. “I clearly wouldn’t make you pick between me or your kid, I’m not that evil.” He falters, briefly, staring at you after you steam rolled over his question, clear avoidance. I suppose the answer is currently 'no'. Baby steps, then.
“I don’t think you’re evil at all,” he calmly tells you. “I do think you are overthinking this, but it seems to be because you do care.” He explains, bringing your hand up to clasp securely in both of his large ones, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’d love nothing more than to keep seeing you, keep going on dates with you, but eventually Sei is going to ask where I keep going without him, and I don’t know how many more times I can get away with saying that I'm just seeing a friend before he asks to meet said friend."
"Please don't pressure me," you whisper.
"I'm not pressuring you. If I'm being too forward, tell me, I'll back away," he pauses, pressing his lips to your fingers for another lingering kiss before looking back at you. You don't say anything, mind still reeling, heart beating out of turn, and stomach churning with butterflies — unsure if it is from the nerves and fear, or his unwavering presence. "Just focus on me right now, yeah?" He nods slowly, your head following the same motions, and there's a hint of sparkle in his eye while he gazes at you. "Getting so worked up. You must really like me." He is taking a huge leap with that statement, and your shoulders slump with ease at his playful taunting, and eyes accidentally roll.
"Whoever said I like you?" You sigh, dramatically, jokingly yanking your hand away from him and peering down at your plate to busy your line-of-sight. Flustered, shy, and embarrassed at your outburst that he was able to smooth over so easily.
"I can read people," he lifts his glass, bringing it to his lips, then stops as his alluring, deep brown irises pull you to his attention. You wait, rather impatiently, for whatever it is he wants to say. Brows raise, eyeing him suspiciously, then he suddenly winks with a smirk hidden behind the sanguine liquid occupying his cup. "And you, my darling, are an open book."
i just wanted a reader/mc who is not happy at the prospect of being a parent for once.
Here’s a gentle, heartfelt story for anyone who needed a little comfort after Avatar 3. This part focuses on Tonowari, Pril, and the quiet moments of healing and support that come after loss. I hope it brings a little warmth to your day/night ^^
Reader Note: This is pure fluff and slow comfort. No action, no danger...just quiet moments, soft emotions, and tiny bonds forming. Take a deep breath and enjoy the calm.
Summary: Weeks after the events of Avatar 3, Tonowari struggles to navigate leadership, grief, and caring for baby Pril. You, in your Avatar body, have been helping him and the clan find yourself holding more than just the baby, you hold pieces of his heart as he begins to trust again, leaning on your quiet support.
Warning: Mild emotional themes of grief and loss, mentions of Ronal’s passing, soft domestic situations, comforting, tender fluff, found-family vibes.
Not silent....never silent....but subdued, like it was holding its breath. The tide lapped gently against the marui’s stilts, and even the waves seemed to know better than to shout.
You had stayed. You had been here for weeks, helping where you could, even though the world still felt foreign with blue skin and long, lanky limbs. Your mornings were usually simple: wake up, eat something small, do what needed doing, and try not to think too hard.
Today, that plan failed the moment you heard her cry.
Pril.
The baby’s wails were small but sharp, cutting through the calm like a stone skipping over water. You hurried through the narrow paths of the reef village, your bare feet wet from the shallow pools. The smell of salt and seaweed clung to your skin.
Tonowari was already there, standing near the sleeping mat, broad shoulders tense. Pril was in his arms, her tiny body wriggling and kicking, her cries high-pitched and insistent. He swayed slightly, murmuring under his breath in Na’vi, each word rough with fatigue and frustration.
He hadn’t noticed you yet.
“Hey,” you said softly, stepping closer.
Tonowari looked up, and for a moment, his gaze lingered on you.....relief, maybe, or just the comfort of not being alone. He didn’t answer. He just exhaled slowly, letting some invisible weight shift a little.
“She will not sleep,” he admitted finally, his voice low.
You nodded. “I know,” you said, stepping closer. “May I?”
He hesitated, eyes flicking to Pril, then back to you. Finally, he carefully passed her over. Her tiny body trembled against your chest, and immediately, her cries sharpened, more urgent now.
“She’s… restless,” Tonowari said quietly.
“I know,” you whispered. “It’s okay. It’s just… a hard night.”
He didn’t respond, just stayed near, letting you lean against him.
Pril’s little fists batted at your chest, her tail flicking, her eyes squeezing shut as she wailed. You shifted, rocking slowly, murmuring a low, wordless hum, but she didn’t quiet immediately. Babies didn’t always respond instantly, and this one had all the persistence of a reef fish darting in and out of the currents.
Tonowari’s gaze softened, and he said nothing, only watching. For a moment, his mind drifted. He remembered Ronal, holding one of their older sons long ago, humming softly in the moonlight while he had stood nearby, unsure how to help. That memory hurt, but it also reminded him that he could learn.....could try.
You hummed again, moving your head gently against Pril’s, letting her feel the steady rhythm of your heart. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, her wails softened into hiccups, then small whimpers. She shifted in your arms, resting her tiny head against your shoulder. Not asleep yet, but calmer.
Tonowari exhaled, shoulders dropping slightly. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice rough with fatigue.
“Anytime,” you said. You meant it.
He lingered there a moment, just watching you rock her, and then something else came out, a confession, quiet, hesitant.
“I… I am struggling,” he said finally. “I cannot rest. The people need me. Tsireya… she needs me.” His voice caught slightly, and he shifted his weight, uneasy. “Ronal chose her to be the next Tsahìk. She still does not know. I must guide her. I must protect her. There is no room for weakness.”
You nodded silently, understanding without needing him to say more. You could see it in the way his hands trembled slightly, in the tension of his jaw, in the tired lines around his eyes.
“And… you,” he said, voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “Even though you are… human… you have been here. Helping. Watching. Supporting. I… I am grateful.”
You blinked at him, unsure if he realized how much that simple admission warmed your chest. “I’m happy to help,” you murmured. “You don’t have to carry it all alone.”
For a moment, Tonowari allowed himself to lean a little closer, shoulders brushing yours as he watched you cradle Pril. The baby’s hiccups turned into tiny sighs of comfort. You hummed again, lightly stroking her tiny arms.
“You make it… easier,” he admitted softly. “Even if I do not always… understand you, or why you chose to stay. Even so…” He glanced down at Pril, then back at you. “I can put that aside. Because you… are here. And she… is calmer. Because of you.”
You smiled faintly, feeling warmth spread through your chest. He wasn’t perfect, and he didn’t have to be. And neither did you.
The reef stretched around you in silence, filled only by the gentle swish of water against stilts and the quiet breaths of a tiny baby. Tonowari’s hand brushed yours again, tentative but sure, and he let it linger.
For a little while, at least, there was peace.
Pril’s hiccups slowed, and finally, finally, she drifted into a quiet, even sleep. Her tiny body relaxed completely against your chest, the faint rise and fall of her breathing steady. You adjusted her carefully, tucking her head against your shoulder and holding her a little closer, letting her warmth seep into your skin.
Tonowari let out a long, quiet breath and sank onto the mat beside you, leaning against the wooden support of the marui. His shoulders sagged, the tension in his body finally giving way. For the first time in days, you noticed the weight he carried wasn’t just in his arms, it was in the slump of his spine, the set of his jaw, the way his eyes flicked around the room like he was still watching, still alert.
“You…” he began, voice soft, hesitant, “…you make this easier. Even when I am tired. Even when I cannot rest.”
You smiled faintly, still humming a soft, wordless tune for Pril. “You don’t have to carry it all alone,” you murmured.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he spoke again, there was a quiet honesty there that made your chest ache. “I think of her sometimes,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Ronal. The first time she held Aonung… the way she sang to him, soft, patient… I… I wish I could have remembered every detail. I…” His words faltered, caught between grief and fatigue.
You shifted slightly, brushing your hand against his as you held Pril. “You’re trying,” you said gently. “That’s enough. You’re doing the best you can.”
Tonowari’s eyes opened slowly, meeting yours. For a moment, he just stared, as if weighing whether it was safe to trust the words. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. “Yes… yes, I am trying. But the people… Tsireya… she needs me, too. I cannot fail her, not when she has so much responsibility ahead. She does not yet know. I must guide her as Ronal would have.”
You leaned just a little closer, letting the warmth of your body brush against his arm. “Then let me help,” you said softly. “I’ve been here. I can watch her while you rest for a moment. You don’t have to shoulder everything.”
A faint, almost shy smile tugged at his lips. “You… you are human,” he said, words heavy with thought. “And yet… you are here. You care. You… help. It is strange, but… comforting.”
“It doesn’t matter what I am,” you replied, shrugging lightly. “What matters is that she sleeps. That you can rest. That we’re… helping together.”
He glanced down at Pril, her tiny hand curling against your collarbone, and then back at you. His expression softened, guarded walls lowering ever so slightly. “I… I am grateful,” he said, voice low. “Even if I wrestle with the thought of what you are. I… I can put that aside. Because you… are here. And she… sleeps.”
The reef stretched around you in peaceful quiet. The faint sway of the marui, the gentle rush of the tide, Pril’s even breathing… it felt almost like a bubble of calm.
Tonowari shifted closer, shoulders brushing yours again. Tentative, careful, as if testing whether he could let himself rest against someone else. And for a moment, you allowed yourself to let him.
“You can lean,” you said quietly, fingers brushing against his forearm. “It’s okay. You can rest a little.”
He hesitated, then slowly leaned against you, a small, almost imperceptible exhale leaving him as if he had been holding it for too long. You hummed again, soft, steady, letting him feel that he wasn’t alone.
And for the first time in weeks, Tonowari let himself relax, even if just a little, in the quiet warmth of the moment, surrounded by the soft blue of the reef, a sleeping baby, and someone who truly cared.
The weight of duty still lingered, the memories of loss still whispered in the corners of his mind...but for now, it was enough to simply breathe, to simply be.
(Was going to be a 3rd person but gonna try P.O.V)
Edit: made some slight edits and hopefully fixed some spelling!
Summary: Grace wants a shower. His six month old daughter doesn’t like not seeing him in sight. Rocky still doesn’t understand boundaries.
Genre: fluff, wholesomeness, tired single dad Grace, Rocky is Rocky.
Sooooo this is the first time I have ever posted a story publically, and I am now a 21 year old neurodivergent woman. I used to be that young girl who dreamt of posting her stories and here we are now. I’m nervous- casue despite I’ve written since I was nine I stopped writing for a while for two years and now I’m back. I am proud of myself though as I’m making my dreams come true!
To clear things up: this au is still in the wokrs but me and my lovely friend (my cheerleader) thought about a loophole from Earth and Erid. Best example I can give is the one in Thor Ragnarok? So that's why it'll be earth based in this! I love to imagine them going from Earth and Erid.
(I'm still learning how to use tumblr especially dividers so sorry if it's messy lol)
🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼
“Oh- kay.” I sighed as I put down my six month old, Aria, in her crib. I laid my hands on the crib barrier as I leaned in a little to talk to my daughter, despite the fact she doesn’t understand a single thing I say. “You going to sleep while daddy has a shower? So he doesn’t smell like a homeless guy?”
Aria blew a spit bubble as a respone, was it a good sign? Sometimes. Fifty fifty. I wanted it to be a good sign cause god- this girl has been a velcro baby.
Don’t get me wrong- I love her so much it hurts. She is adorable as heck and I could just squish those little chubby cheeks everytime I see her. Don’t get me started on her gummy smiles too.
Apparently this is common with most parents and babies, and it feels nice to be wanted, you know? But it would be nice to attend to my hygiene without my kid screaming the house down, and I am not one of those dumb parents who let their kid cry without being soothed. Call it gentle parenting if you want but it’s just not cool in my opinion.
But I really need a shower.
I gave her stomach a squeeze with the tip of my fingers, making a ‘ch, ch’ noise while doing so before I left the room. I took my shirt off the moment I got in the bathroom, and went to turn on the shower- hoping Rocky hasn’t used up any hot water (again). The water doesn’t really clean Rocky himself but washes his protection shield, but then, he can just use a sponge and soap for that right? Suppose he does need hot water- but the amount of time he spends in there is a little concerning.
As the shower warmed up I checked myself in the mirror, I actually don’t look to bad. Still toned, still got muscle in my arms though but I have a tiny pouch going on as I haven’t really worked out in a while since… Well, parenting solo.
I do go on walks though with Aria and Rocky- they’re pretty nice, peaceful as well. We live near a river so we often take a stroll and Aria just laughs at anything passing by- she seems to have an obsession with birds at the moment so we often feed the ducks.
There was an incident though when she threw the whole packet of food for the ducks in the river out of excitement and some pensioner (or boomer is what those gen z’s call them- got called that by a student one time actually) shouted at me as if it was my fault and we’re damaging the environment and Rocky ended up calling them, uh… A little b word (he told me he started listening to gangsta rap to expand his vocabulary which is ‘perfect’). Yeah, we left immediately before it escalated. Fun times.
Shower’s finally hot. Welp, time to go in cause house work is done, Aria is asleep, Rocky is doing his thing so I can get clean. I start to unbuckle my belt-
Aria is not asleep.
I sighed and turned off the shower before walking back to my room where I saw Aria in her crib which I put her in probably less than five minutes ago (clearly that was enough time to believe I was gone forever), whimpering and making that cute pouty lip when she isn’t happy about something.
Despite the fact she is emotionally blackmailing me right now, she is adorable as heck.
I put my hand on Aria’s belly. “Hey, hey, hey… Daddy’s here sweetheart, shh… He just really really really wants a shower. Cause people will judge daddy and he gets judged plently enough bug.”
I know she doesn’t understand. But it’s nice to talk to her cause it does feel like bonding in a way, and to be honest, Aria does look at me as if she is listening to everything I say, even if it’s foreign to her, cause babies sense things. They can be smart.
I highly doubt she understands what’s going on here though, cause she is still whimpering and looking at me with those big, silly, adorable eyes. Looking at me as if I'm the problem. Man, this kid.
I sigh. “… Ok, ok. Come here.” I pick her up again and she lays her chin on my bare shoulder, and I start to bounce her gently and hush her.
After five minutes Aria starts to calm down a little, so maybe I can put her down now and see if she gets comfortable now.
And so I do. I lay her down. I give her a thumbs up. I start to walk backwards slowly…
Slowly…
Slowly…
Ok… We’re off to a good start.
Nearly out the door-
Aaaand she’s crying again.
Perfect.
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I strap Aria into her bouncer. I decided after the fifth attempt of trying to succesfully go to the shower, maybe it’s not so bad to be supervised by a six month old. Hey, maybe if I slipped and went unconscious she could scream the house down and alert the neighbours or something like that. She’d be a local hero.
Though maybe I shouldn’t traumatise a six month old. So, maybe I should aim to not slip in the shower.
“Ok. You comfy?”
“Huh.” Aria says to me.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Can daddy shower now?”
She tried to touch my face. My chest always melts for some reason when she does that. I gave her hand a kiss and stood back up, finally being able to go in the shower without a crisis.
I stripped everything off before stepping into the shower, and I closed the curtian before turning the hot water on which actually was hot. Rocky’s been good. I’m very glad.
I wet my hair and oh my god it felt so good. To be honest, it’s only been two days since I showered but my god it feels like a lifetime and it feels really good to have that hot water on me.
As I put the shampoo on the palm of my hand, I can hear Aria getting anxious. But it was fine cause once I put the shampoo in my hair I leaned out of the shower curtian so she could see my face.
“I’m still here, bug.” I called out softly. Aria’s face instantly brightened when she saw me, definitely looked more content. If only other people looked at me that way. I must be the coolest person to her.
I smiled at her before I put my head under the water again. Then, ten seconds later Aria made very concerned noises. I huffed, rinsed my hair, and leaned back out.
“Hey, hey. I’m right here, bug. I’m not disapearing, I promise.”
Aria smiled again and started kicking her feet.
I grin to myself. “Crisis averted.”
It quickly becomes a pattern. I shower. I lean out. I reassure Aria. She smiles at me. I smile back cause she’s got a very cute smile which I unapologetically brag about. Then back to shower. Repeat.
It was actually quite fun to do. Makes shower time less boring.
I lean out again.
"Why is Grace wet, question?” Rocky asks. Appearing out of nowhere.
I let out a high pitch shriek before I frantically cover myself with the shower curtain before Rocky sees more of me than he usually does.
When did Rocky get in here?!
“Why are you here?!” I ask, nearly shrieking again.
“Rocky is observing the tiny human.”
“I’m showering!”
“Grace said if Grace is out of sight Rocky must observe tiny human.”
“Rocky you can clearly see my silhouette behind this curtian!”
Aria is now laughing, glad someone finds this funny.
Rocky just gestured vaguely. “Tiny human becomes distress when you are not in visual distance.”
“Cause she’s a baby and attached to me!” I yell, starting to feel flustered as I’m the only naked one in here. Aria quickly confirmed my statement by giggling and reaching out to me
Of course, Rocky continues, completely unfazed at the fact that I am completely naked behind the shower curtain.
"Grace repeatedly make sure tiny human can see Grace. Tiny human checks for Grace, finds Grace, stops worrying."
I just stare at him.
"...What?"
"Grace repeatedly emerge from shower to reassure tiny human."
Aria made an impatient noise and kicked her legs again.
I softend. “I’m still here, bug! Daddy’s here!”
Rocky looked at Aria.
Then at me.
“The tiny human is very dependent on you.”
… Is he serious right now? How does parenting work with Eridians cause Rocky judges human babies a lot I notice- especially mine.
I gestured to Aria. “Yeah- cause she’s a baby!”
“Rocky sees that.”
“And it is very normal for a human baby to be attached to their caregiver Rocky.”
“… Understood. Rocky may understand one day."
I sighed loudly, my patience is thin as hell and I really want to smell like I actually care about taking care of my hygeine.
“Ok. Rocky- out.”
“Rocky is supervising infant.”
“I’m supervising her.”
“Grace is behind a curtian, hence that does not count as supervising because Grace can't see-”
“GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM!”
I threw a nearby towel at Rocky without thinking. Extreme reaction, I know, but I hit my limit with showertime interruptions.
After a few moments of tense silence (besides the shower running, probably wasting a lot of water right now), Rocky simply came out with a “Understood.”
And just as I was about to return to shampooing my hair…
“… Why is tiny human allowed to observe you unclothed? This is unfa-"
“OUT.”
And thank god- he finally left. I heard the door close, and the only noise now was the shower running.
I had to look at Aria to completely calm down, and I did actually. She just smiled at me and started to giggle which always made my chest feel fuzzy on the inside.
“There she is.” I smile soflty. I was finally able to complete my shower and felt like a new- and clean, person.
Parenting isn’t easy. Especially when it comes to being a single dad to a young infant (though feels like I have two kids at this point).
But, would I change this life? Aria? Even Rocky?
Heck no.
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I hope you lovely peeps loved this! Again this is the first ever time I posted publicly so sorry if it looks rusty. I'll make more posts about ideas, aus and characters I have!
So... Now that I have finally gotten my diploma as a child psychologist, I decided to celebrate by posting this little thing I'm currently writing that is so close to my heart. Full of soft!dad Carlos and single!dad Carlos moments.
warnings: angst, custody battle, childhood trauma
(safe haven: in John Bowlby's attachment theory, it's what a child sees in the primary caregiver - a person who makes them feel safe, protected, and calm, especially when the world feels scary or overwhelming)
Carlos had always been a family man in a very Spanish way. Yet, he never expected to become a father like this.
Especially not a single dad.
He'd never thought in his wildest dreams that one day, he would have a three-year-old daughter from someone he never even wanted a relationship with. For three years, Vivian used Isabel as bait, trying to pull Carlos back into her life. But when she cut off all contact, vanishing with Isa for two terrifying months, Carlos knew something was deeply wrong. Even more so, when out of nowhere, Vivian asked him to take Isa for three weeks.
And then, what began as a temporary visit unravels into a haunting revelation: Vivian hadn’t just disappeared from Carlos’s life. She’d disappeared from Isa’s, too. And now Carlos must step into the one role he was never really trained for...
...and figure out how to raise a child in the paddock.
Aziraphale, single father to Ethan, an adorable 5-year-old boy, is exhausted. He tries to ignore it, but one evening, as he’s walking home with his son, he collapses in the parking lot. When he wakes up, he’s in the hospital, and at his bedside is his handsome neighbor, whom he barely knows, holding Aziraphale's sleeping son in his arms.
Notes
I'm trying my hand at a kid-fic. Get ready for a massive dose of sweetness and fluffiness;
On Ao3
Rating G - 1404
Masterpost : here
"Oh no, I'm late again!"
Aziraphale practically ran down the path leading to the kindergarten, his footsteps echoing behind him.
He burst into the building and headed toward the only lit room.
Out of breath, he walked through the door.
"Good evening. I—"
“Daddy!!!”
He barely had time to drop his shoulder bag and crouch down to welcome his son into his arms when the boy threw himself against his chest.
He whispered into his son's golden locks, "I'm sorry, Ethan. I—"
His son shook his head against him and, looking up at him with his big green eyes, he said seriously,
"I'm sure it's because you've been working hard, Dad. Besides, I didn’t mind because Muriel played with me all the time.”
"That's right, Mister Fell. Ethan was very well-behaved and we had a lot of fun.”
Aziraphale stood up with Ethan in his arms and turned toward the young daycare worker approaching them.
“Thank you so much, Muriel, and I’m very sorry for the trouble.”
Muriel shook their head.
"Ethan is adorable. It wasn't a chore at all."
"Yes, but..."
"No, your situation isn't easy, and we all understand."
“Thank you again.”
Ethan swung his legs, signaling to Aziraphale that he wanted to be put down.
“Shall we go home?”
Muriel brought Ethan’s shoes, jacket, and small bag, and after exchanging goodbyes, father and son headed toward their car.
Azirphale put Ethan in his car seat, buckled him in, and got behind the wheel.
He sighed.
The exhaustion he’d ignored all day weighed on his shoulders like a heavy burden.
He was so tired. He knew that even after getting home, he’d have a ton of things to do: Dinner, cleaning, laundry, a report for the next day...
Suddenly, a gurgle beside him snapped him out of his thoughts.
He looked at his son, who was holding his stomach. "I'm really hungry, Dad," he said sheepishly.
Aziraphale nodded and turned the key.
"Let's go home and eat," he said.
"Yay!"
Aziraphale added fondly. “Tell me about your day, sweetie.”
His son’s enthusiasm was enough to make Aziraphale forget his weariness for a moment. Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of the building.
Just as he pulled the handbrake, he saw a figure walking past the car. He was surprised to see that it was their neighbor.
He murmured, "He's coming home at the same time as us."
As if he’d heard him, the man turned his head toward the car. Meeting his gaze through the windshield, he gave Aziraphale a brief nod in greeting.
They ran into each other occasionally when taking out the trash, but they’d never really spoken.
Aziraphale wondered what kind of work he did.
Given his appearance, with his flashy hair, piercings, and tattoos, Aziraphale could easily imagine him working in fashion or design.
Brought back to reality by Ethan, who was swinging his legs, Aziraphale got out of the car to unbuckle his son's seatbelt and help him get out.
As the boy babbled, Aziraphale couldn't help but think about their mysterious neighbor. At first, he had found him a little scary because he was always dressed in black and often wore sunglasses that hid his eyes. However, he quickly changed his mind when he saw how the red-haired man always responded in a kind and gentle manner whenever they passed each other and Ethan greeted him.
Almost shy.
The sound of the door closing brought him back to the present just as Ethan reached his arms out toward him and asked, "Dad, what's for dinner today?"
"Well..."
Aziraphale reached out to pick up Ethan. Suddenly, it was as if his hand slipped.
His vision narrowed, and everything became blurred with black.
The floor came closer.
"Daddyyyy!"
He felt so heavy.
Powerless.
It was as if he were sinking into a bottomless lake, with no chance of returning to the surface.
Every push confronting him with his failures.
"Aziraphale? You don't love me, do you?"
Aziraphale couldn't answer.
“I think we should break up.”
His girlfriend gets up in tears and storms out of the restaurant, and he does nothing to stop her.
Don't cry.
"Mister Fell, do you really think these numbers are acceptable? How long have you been working at this company?"
His boss waved charts and statistics in front of him while continuing to scold him.
Over and over again.
Don't get mad.
"I'm sorry, Azi, my angel. I won’t be able to continue this journey with you.”
His grandmother, lying sick in her hospital bed, tries to comfort him even though he feels helpless.
Don't look so sad.
Ethan sits cross-legged in front of his mother’s portrait, tears streaming down his cheeks. Aziraphale sits next to him with his hand on Ethan’s back, sharing in his grief.
I'll love you on behalf of your mother, too.
I'll do my best.
Please smile.
Ethan smiles broadly and shouts, “Daddy!” as he jumps into his arms.
This time, the force pushed him upward.
Toward the light.
Toward the air.
Suddenly, as if he had finally reached the surface, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
He blinked several times to adjust to the light.
Where was he?
"Are you awake?"
He gasped, startled, and turned toward the voice. He gasped again when he saw their neighbor sitting next to his bed with Ethan asleep in his arms.
Aziraphale sat up.
"What...how...where?"
His questions were interrupted by a soft chuckle. His neighbor said gently, "I don't know if you remember, Aziraphale, but you fainted in the parking lot."
Aziraphale murmured, recalling the events as if through a fog: "I fell."
His neighbor continued, "Your child was crying, and I didn't know what to do, so I called an ambulance."
Embarrassed, Aziraphale murmured, “I’m sorry for causing you trouble.”
His neighbor shook his head.
"Ethan was even more troubled than I was..."
Aziraphale looked tenderly at his son, who was sleeping soundly against his neighbor.
"He was so worried that he wouldn't stop crying. It wasn’t until he was sure you’d be okay that he stopped crying and fell asleep.”
"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry I worried you."
Aziraphale sat up and reached out to his son, gently stroking his cheek with his knuckle.
"After several tests, the doctors concluded that your fainting was likely due to stress or overwork."
His neighbor kept talking to him, still in that same gentle voice that made Aziraphale’s throat tighten with emotion.
In a slightly hoarse voice, he said, “I’m sorry again for the trouble. Thank you, for me and for Ethan.”
The man wasn’t a family member or even a friend, yet he took care of Aziraphale and Ethan, even staying by his bedside.
Aziraphale's throat tightened again.
This time, it was because he had just realized something that terrified him.
Ethan’s mother, his parents, and his grandparents, who had raised him, were all dead. He had no one left. If anything happened to him, he wouldn't have anyone to take care of Ethan.
"It's difficult, but..."
His neighbor’s soft voice snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts, and Aziraphale noticed that he had moved his chair closer to the edge of the bed as he continued, “When you’re not feeling well, you can ask the people around you for help, right? We’re neighbors, so we can help each other out when needed. That’s why I wanted to help you as best I could.”
"Oh..."
As he watched the man stifle a yawn and be careful not to wake Ethan in his arms, Aziraphale reflected on what he had just said.
These weren't pretentious words meant to sound cool. The man had said them sincerely and naturally, as if they were the most obvious thing in the world.
His neighbor stood up, leaned toward him, and held out his hand. "If you feel up to it, we can go home."
Aziraphale looked at the man's messy hair, piercings, tattoo on his temple, and the casual outfit he wore. He didn’t know what kind of man his neighbor was. But seeing Ethan sleeping against him, trusting him, and seeing his open face and outstretched hand, Aziraphale decided to accept his offer.
Receiving that kind of kindness when he felt so tired and weak was wonderful, and he didn’t want to let that feeling go.
