#Parental Units

[sebastian-sdv]

INFORMATION

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rules!

-No godmodding, or taking control, force shipping and the like

-No NFSW. In general. (INCLUDING GORE.)

-Shipping is alright. I prefer canon characters and not Ocs, though. If you ask first w/ OCs, I may allow it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags

-.. Seriously? (asks/answers

-ASS trio (seb, sam, and abigail. all three together specifically.)

-He sucks at Pool. (Sam.)

-Prarie King Level 1 isn't THAT hard (Abigail)

-RoboGirl (Maru.)

more may be added as needed!

-parental units (Robin/Demitrius)

-ooc/moddie. (used interchangeably)

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Headcanons

-He's redone his bike 3 times now. It's never broken down on him, he just doesn't like how it ends up

-Baby has Daddy issues. Demitrius is his Step-Dad, so---

-He's deadset on ZuZu city, no matter what. His friendship w/ the ASS (abi, seb, sam) trio is what keeps him back, though.

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mod stuff

uhhhh call me sunny, i run other accounts. ask for em. im also sunflowr anon. (~🌻)

he/xem for me, im transmasc. thats all ig idk.

maybe ill add more to all of this later idk.

(if you want to talk to me off of tumblr i do have discord iahdkshsj. just ask :] )

[darkcozyforest]

Do you ever just get so frustrated with your birth giver that you start throwing random ingredients into a bowl like you’re brewing some world ending potion and then end up with muffins?

[gaslightgallows]

Bless her, my mother is trying to reassure me about the house my husband and I are about to buy and telling us that the mortgage is “good debt” like his student loans.

Ma’am we are millennials, debt is just debt.

[worm-on-my-way]

hc that danny just sees wanda and cosmo's true forms

[kaleidoscopeluhvv]

57

Perth, Australia 2022. Contax G1 / Kodak Gold 200

[burnwater13]

DataWorks calendar for The Mandalorian. Peli Motto holds Grogu. Caption reads: Not so fast! You can't just leave a child all alone like that. You know... you've got an awful lot to learn about raisin' a young one. - Peli Motto. The Mandalorian, Season 1, Episode 5, The Gunslinger.

Grogu didn’t know how to ask the question and he wasn’t sure that Peli would understand him, even if he figured out which words to use. He thought about asking his dad, but that seemed like a mistake. The Mandalorian wasn’t a diplomat in any sense of the term. He’d made that mistake with the people on Sorgan and Grogu wasn’t one to forget something like that. “You can’t live here anymore.” Wow. Only a Mandalorian would say something that bluntly.

After all was there a good way to ask anyone if they were a mom? Particularly when they weren’t surrounded by children calling them ‘Mom’? Because Grogu was pretty sure that Peli Motto either had grown children wondering around the galaxy or she had raised someone’s children, even if they hadn’t been hers. How would she know how to treat Grogu when none of them even knew what species he was?��

Grogu had been reliably assured that moms were the people who knew how to do stuff like that. Dads too. And other family members who took on those roles. For a long time Grogu had considered Master Beq to be his ‘dad’. He was the person who cared about him. Made sure he got dressed, ate his meals and went to his lessons. When something bad or scary happened Kelleran Beq had been there and Grogu had been very grateful for his presence. 

Now… well, now, Peli Motto was saying all the same things that Grogu recalled Master Beq saying. She must have once been someone’s parental unit. That’s what Ian called the droids around the Jedi Temple that were responsible for helping to manage the youngest of the younglings. Parental units. It was fitting and kind of funny. Grogu had liked it and thought it fit Peli Motto pretty well. 

But he couldn’t just ask her how she learned to be a parental unit. What if her children had grown up and left Tatooine for a better future filled with opportunity and never bothered to visit or send a vid? Or worse… what if they had ended up being taken by the Empire to be their next ‘loyal support troopers’? Uff. Or just as awful in some ways, what if they had joined the Rebels and had something horrible happen? The Rebellion hadn’t been all blowing up Imperial ships and getting medals. People had been hurt or worse. What if that had happened to Peli’s children? That was just too horrible to contemplate.

He knew what it was like to suffer a loss like that. All his masters, friends, acquaintances were gone and for what? So some guy to call himself a funny name? And of course so he could boss people around. That had been a pretty big feature of the Empire. It was absurd. If you really wanted to boss people around all you needed was a business and a bunch of droids and mechs. Like a starship repair garage. 

Yes, there were people who would argue that droids and mechs weren’t people technically, but did that really matter if all you wanted was the satisfaction of yelling at folks and telling them what to do? Just look at how Peli managed her shop. Those pit droids did everything she told them to do, when she told them to do it. Wouldn’t that satisfy anyone’s need to be bossy and shouty? 

Of course Peli wasn’t like the Emperor at all. She may not have been afraid of a Mandalorian in full armor with a side arm and all those other weapons, but that was just due to her parental unit settings. She had seen Grogu and knew instantly that he needed to be cared for. Fed. Held. Cared for. Not abandoned in a ship hungry and alone, that’s for certain. She had certainly been able to communicate her demands to Din Djarin without hesitation and prettier, more diplomatic words. 

That’s why he hesitated to ask her his question. She might just laugh and tell him how she once adopted a scurrier and that’s how she’d learned to do all these parental unit things. Or, she might just break down and weep uncontrollably and he and the pit droids would be desperately trying to cheer her up. That would probably involve agreeing to play sabacc with her and then deliberately losing so she would be happier. Grogu was willing to do a lot for Peli, but losing at sabacc on purpose just wasn’t one of them. 

First, she would never forget it and he’d be hearing her tell everyone and anyone the story of how she had beat him the game without even cheating. Next, she would offer to teach him how to play, reminding him how he’d lost to her that one time. Finally, she would be telling the Mandalorian not to let him play the game at all because he was so bad at it, they’d both lose their shirts, or in Grogu’s case, his coverall. Uff.

Then he reflected on something that Master Beq had told him so many years before, when they were watching the Jedi Council discuss a matter with then Chancellor Palpatine. Grogu had wanted to ask the Chancellor a question. Master Beq asked him what question he had. Grogu had said he wondered if the human from Naboo had fallen to the dark side. Master Beq had advised him that you didn’t need to ask questions that you already knew the answer to… or words to that affect. 

Whether or not Peli Motto had been a mom on a technical basis or not, she was most certainly a great parental unit who kept her programming up to date and Grogu was glad that he fit into her parameters of a child requiring care and feeding. Especially feeding. Bone broth was delicious, particularly when it contained extra bones.

Peli Motto scolding Din Djarin. Caption reads: You can't just leave a child all alone like that. The Mandalorian, Season 1, Episode 5, The Gunslinger.

[pennamesmith]

Secret origin 🔧⚙️🧪

I had a whole child Entrapta au thing going on, but I completely forgot to post the doodles here 😬 (tap for better quality)

[monochromayhem]

You know I’m really getting tired of mom telling me I need to speak for myself and then choose to communicate with my partner vicariously through me.

The hypocrisy is fucking blinding.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Put that thing back or so help me.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[entilovesthings]

I like to think that Jazz gets along really well with the other members of the NU team, i mean, how can you not love her???

[nicktoonsunite]

[hyperfixatingmenever]

[monsterheart-lionheart]

does he know how loved he is by his parents 🥹

[worm-on-my-way]

timmy no...

[lucabyte]

heres your highly requested fluff you fucking animals

[thedaveandkimmershow]

I lied to Santa.

Seriously. I lied. To Santa. I did it willingly and willfully, fully understanding what I was doing. And I lied my little liar pants off, year after year through grade school right up until my dad blew the lid off the whole Santa thing. So. The question was:

“Have you been a good boy, this year?”

And the answer I always gave was “Yes, Santa.” Lie. “Have you been a good boy this year?” “Yes, Santa.” Lie. “Aaaaaand I’ll just bet you’ve been a very good boy this year.” “Yes, Santa. I have. I have.” Lie again. I was shameless. Shameless… because in reality, there was plenty of objective evidence to demonstrate that I was not, in fact, a good boy. Even I couldn’t miss it. For one thing, I lied about stuff sometimes. Pretty sure that behavior doesn’t show up on the Nice List. For another, I sucked at paying attention. Had the diagnosis existed at the time, I woulda been tagged A.D.H.D.. At one point, my scout leader told my mom I was hyperactive… snd boy was she pissed. Not at him for saying it… but at me for being it. Again… not on the Nice List. In school, there were people I made fun of… not a Nice List move. There were people I ignored. I hauled off and hit one of my classmates with my lunch box one time. I tripped people sometimes… or gave them flats. I was sent to the principal’s office a bunch. I talked while the teacher was talking. I didn’t do, exactly, all of my homework. I disrespected certain teachers and authorities. I had an attitude which, as it turns out, blossomed in Junior High when my Algebra teacher’d give me an “A” for my academics but a “C” for my so-called “citizenship”. Yeah. Did. Not. Care. I drove at least two of my teachers at Lawton Elementary to distraction. They actually lost it and yelled at me. At home, I was subject to groundings and no-TV days and weeks as a result of various misbehaviors. I don’t know how often those punishments came up, but again… These were not the behaviors of a Nice List denizen. On top of all that, there were any number of good kids I could look at and decide for myself. Was I like them? Nope. Did I care? Again... nope. Yeah. I wasn’t a good boy. At least… not by Santa’s standards. Not by Christmas standards. Not by academic standards. And so I lied relentlessly to Santa every. single. year. Interestingly, it didn’t occur to me until my adultier adult years that if there really was a Naughty or Nice list, if Santa really did know if I’d been bad or good… Then why the heck did he even bother asking me? He coulda just waved me off before I even got close to the Big Chair and said “Forget it, Ris, try again next year.” That, actually, would’ve made more sense to me. Instead, he asked, I lied, and come Christmas morning Lo and Behold… There were presents under the tree… For me. Of course, there wasn’t really a Santa Claus. It was my parents the whole time. My parents, who actually did know whether I’d been bad, when I’d been bad, and how often.

Had I known they were in charge of Christmas presents from the start… I probably would’ve written off getting any presents at all. Like, ever. Instead, the gifts showed up faithfully. Every year. Good ones, too. Great ones. And I did not deserve a single one. Since Santa’s list is so obviously based on merit, yeah. I didn’t deserve any of these wonderful (and wonderfully wrapped) gifts. It’s definitely, in retrospect, a master class in grace. Giving me what I didn’t deserve.  Now, of course my parents weren’t pushovers. They were a pretty strict pair with definite ideas about my education and how I should be spending my time. They were generous, yes. But it was still their house, still their rules.  And every Christmas, they blew me away. Only, for a very long time, I thought it was Santa.