#basket baby

[groenendaelfic]

I have quite literally not stopped thinking about the basket baby snippet since you posted it! I'm happy to wait but can I be cheeky and ask for any more tidbits, how ever tiny, about the basket baby fic? Like baby name reveal, another snippet, chapter 2 outline...anything at all please I will give you my first born child! (I am amypond on ao3 btw - happy for you to publish this ask)

ah basket baby! Thank you for not forgetting, and of course you can always ask. I love basket baby. One day it will even be born. Why oh why can't I write fic full time, I would be so much more productive and efficient 😅

For a few very foolish seconds Simon considers naming the baby Wilhelm.

He loves Wilhelm and he misses him, can't imagine what he must have been going through this past year, alone safe for the very much not amused Royal Court, no doubt at some estate hidden away in the countryside, not even allowed the familiarity of his own rooms.

He also hates Wilhelm. For not finding a way to tell him, to have them be together, because surely, surely it can't be that impossible, can it?

Except of course it can. Simon's mom was accosted by Royal Court lawyers at work, and that was them being nice. It is exactly that impossible.

Tears spring to his eyes. He can't name the baby Wilhelm. It'd hurt to much. It'll hurt anyway, holding the baby in his arms, knowing it's the only part of Wilhelm he'll ever get to hold again.

He already loves the child more than his own life, and the more he looks at the tiny, scrunched up face getting ready to cry, the more he can see Wilhelm reflected in it.

He shifts his grip, pulls the baby closer and hums a melody he hopes is soothing. He can't name the baby Wilhelm. The baby is not Wilhelm, and it deserves better, deserves its own name. One which isn't a constant reminder of its unreachable parent.

Not that he'd be allowed. No matter how popular the name Wilhelm in all its forms has remained in Sweden ever since Wilhelm was born. The Royal Court would not allow it, and Simon can't risk angering them before the baby isn't officially his and he has the paperwork to prove it.

So not Wilhelm then, he thinks, as the baby bursts into tears. Simon would give anything to be able to cry along, to crumble and break, but he's a father now and his child comes first, even if he has no clue what to do.

He just put on a fresh diaper with the patient help of his mom and it can't be time for another bottle.

"He can sense that you're upset," his mom explains when he asks, and oh doesn't that suck.

He doesn't put the baby back in its basket however, nor does he hand it to his mom. Instead he cuddles it closer and starts humming again.

His precious, precious child. His and Wilhelm's.

A tear rolls down his face. He's hurt and angry and scared, hating the Royal Court and the world and everything for being so absolutely, thoroughly unfair.

Everything except his baby, who is innocent and beautiful and perfect.

It didn't ask to be born, and certainly not into a family like this, to a legacy like this. The monarchy is not its only legacy however, and suddenly Simon knows what he's going to call it.

Not a Swedish name. Nothing to tie it to the long line of ancestors who want nothing to do with it. Not Carl or Magnus or Gustav. Not Erik either, or at least not as a first name.

Something Spanish. Something to ensure his child will never consider itself an unwanted royal bastard too embarrassing to be acknowledged.

Something powerful. A reminder that he is also part Venezuelan, and that that is something to be proud of.

Yes. He'll name the baby after his maternal grandmother. There is no person living or dead he can think of who is stronger or more determined in the face of hardship than his abuela.

It will make her happy, it will make him happy, and if royals can do it, then he can do it, too. Only better and with less toxicity, less historical baggage to weigh it down.

He'll make sure no one will ever compare his precious baby boy to anyone. Will ensure he'll get to pave his own path however he wants. He loves his child, his and Wilhelm's, and whatever he can do to keep it safe he will.

"Alejandro," he tells his mother, and because he can't ignore Wilhelm's one single request adds, "Alejandro Erik Eriksson."

For a moment he considers using the Spanish version for Erik as well, if only out of spite, but that wouldn't be fair to Wilhelm. That, and it would remind him too much of his mom's favorite singer.

His mother bites her lip and nods.

It's the right choice. The only choice, and Simon can only hope little Alejandro will think so, too.

[slushyseals]

Hooray, my mail order pup-scription is here!

In reality this little pup got lost and ended up on someone's porch. Not to worry, the home owner did the right thing and the little guy is now at the Marine Mammal Care center who can evaluate them for any necessary care before release back into the wild. Source for more context: https://www.instagram.com/p/C3im2QYybiF/

[cpahlow]

[everysongineverykey]

as part of the getting-worse-before-it-gets-better portion of aziraphale and crowley's season 3 relationship arc we NEED a desperate "i love you" from aziraphale met with a hissed, spiteful, and quickly regretted "i forgive you" from crowley

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

I'm still amazed that Rick managed to get Nyx explicitly baby-trapping Nico through non-consensual means and then those children were monsters and are being raised by Nico through the Disney censors. Like. Wow. Unironically, bravo sir.

[divineatrophy]

iwtv fic masterpost

how memory makes monsters into myth armand/daniel. dubai-era, armand is alice, canon divergence inspo tag

“I said I’m fine, Alice,” Daniel snaps, and time itself grinds to a halt. Not literally. Ha. The things you have to specify with vampires. Daniel wishes he could laugh, but the sound is stuck somewhere in his throat, along with his heart. Now, of course, his hand chooses to be perfectly still. Why the fuck did he say that?

STATUS: complete

domestication of the species armand/daniel. 3 years post-dubai, vampire!daniel, domestic fluff with plot inspo tag

It’s not how Daniel expected to find him. Ever, really. Even at his lowest, shaken up by Daniel’s little coup d'etat in Dubai, he’d been panicked but somewhat put together, at least compared to this. This is gone off the rails right off the deep end. Did anyone actually arrest him, or did he break in for this little tableau? How dramatic do you have to be? “Hey, c’mon.” Daniel says, snapping his fingers. “Let’s go, pal. I’m busting you out of here.”

STATUS: work-in-progress, 6 out of ??? chapters

the grave unquiet armand/daniel. dubai-era immediately post 2x08. trapped! in the memory palace inspo tag

The silence stretches and yawns and makes itself comfortable like a cat. Until finally Daniel reaches up and holds up a finger. After a pregnant pause, he presses it against the window. The next moment, the distant plane flies out from under his fingertip. “That’s the third time that same plane has taken off,” Daniel says, fighting to keep his voice neutral. “Weird, right?”

STATUS: work-in-progress, 2 out of ??? chapters

[basketcase1982]

a brother, a father, and their creature families

little bonus hehe

[enigmaticfingernail]

baby artemy burakh with bull

[active-mind-15]

FUUUUUUUUUCKKKKK 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[infant-no-finances]

bbno$ - I Remember

[groenendaelfic]

🏀 👶?

WIPs titles ask game: Basket Baby

This will either be the beginning of chapter 1 or 3 (depending on whether I'll opt for prologues or flashbacks later on)

"Mom?" Simon asks, hurriedly toeing off his shoes and peering into the kitchen. "Mom, what's wrong?"

It's a swelteringly hot summer day, one which he and his friends planned to spend at the lake, but his mom's urgent and rather vague message forced him to come back early.

"Why aren't you at work? Did something happen? Why didn't you want Ayub and Rosh to come along?"

He asks all this in rapid-fire Spanish, but falls silent once he enters the kitchen and is greeted with the sight of a strangely long, blanket filled basket and the red-rimmed eyes of his mother.

"Mom?" he repeats, when his mom merely swallows and looks down at the bundle in her arms.

The moving bundle in her arms.

"My love," she says, her voice breaking. "There … there is a letter for you."

At that she gestures at the basket.

Simon's mind is blank as he steps up to it and reaches inside. There is a letter tugged half underneath the mattress, and he swallows when he sees the tiny stuffed frog next to it.

The letter isn't signed and only consists of a single line, but Simon would recognize the handwriting anywhere.

I know I don't have any right to ask, but it'd mean the world if you'd consider Erik as a middle name.

The single sheet of paper drops to the table as Simon sinks into the nearest chair.

He hasn't heard a word from Wilhelm since before Christmas, no one has. Not since the other boy told him he loved him and then seemingly vanished off the face of the earth.

The last and only thing Simon heard was the official press statement the Royal Court released a few months ago, announcing that the Crown Prince was convalescing after a lengthy, but non-life threatening illness, his return to public life unknown.

There is a lump in his throat, and Simon can't hold back the tears falling down his cheeks.

He doesn't want to hold back the tears falling down his cheeks. He wants Wille.

He misses Wille. He's missed Wille so much.

The bundle in his mom's arms gurgles, and he thinks he can make out a tiny fist waving in the air.

"Some lawyers asked for me at work today," his mom says. "They offered me adoption or custody until you're eighteen. It was either that or having him adopted by an elderly couple up North loyal to the crown and never seeing him again."

"What?" Simon asks.

This can't be happening.

"What about Wille?"

His mom doesn't meet his eyes, but instead looks down at the baby.

His and Wille's baby.

"I had to sign an NDA among other things, and there will be more paperwork," she says, evading the question. "He's not in the population register, not yet, and you need to decide on a name …"

She pauses.

"The Royal Court will help us and arrange everything, as long as we promise to never contact it or Wilhelm ever again. It's their condition for letting us keep …"

"Mom?" Simon sobs, overwhelmed and not knowing what to do or say.

He and Wille have a baby, and if he wants to keep him he'll never get to see Wille again.

Not that he will otherwise. Not in person, not if Wille never returns to Hillerska, but …

Where is Wille?

He can't be okay with this.

The last thing Wille told him was that he loved him.

Until now that is. He looks down and picks up the sheet of paper with the single, handwritten line.

Why?

There's nothing else in the envelope.

"Do you want to hold him?" Linda asks.

Simon nods.

The baby's eyes are still blue, and he can't tell who they'll come after, but the mop of dark curls on his head is hard to miss.

He's a father, and he's never going to see Wilhelm again.

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

This is some Kuroko No Basket thing right here

[blorbolaundry]

I'M GONNA BE LOCKED TF IN AS SOON AS I GET THE NOTIFICATION!!!

[galleryofart]

The Flower Girl

Artist: Sir James Jebusa Shannon (Anglo-American, 1862–1923)

Date: 1900

Medium: Oil paint on canvas

Collection: Tate Britain, London, United Kingdom

Description

James Jebusa Shannon painted this work while he and his family were on holiday in Eastbourne. The woman was a flower girl who they met every morning on their way down to the beach. She agreed to sit for Shannon in her ordinary working clothes while nursing her baby. The artist’s daughter, Kitty, recalled that her father told the flower girl to come ‘exactly as you are: baby, basket of flowers, the white blouse with the big black spots and old battered straw hat’.

[alm0sthere]

mommy’s little monster - babies in horror movies

[ho-le-dai]