#girldads tag

[miamierre]

It’s 3am and Charles is awake on his birthday.

Two years ago, if you’d told him this, he may have believed you—still in the throes of his late twenties, pushing for an all-nighter because the music is so good, and the drinks are covered by the bartender because he knows who Charles is. For all the demureness of his youth, Charles has always had the wildness, too—the rougher edges, ones not meant for the eyes of Maranello.

But two years is a long time. Now, Charles is awake in the wee hours of the morning because he’d sat straight up in bed when he’d heard the baby monitor go off.

Pierre, curled up beside him, groans and rolls over. “I got her last time,” he mumbles. What a difference two years makes. Back then, Charles wouldn’t have been able to figure out why a baby was crying if you paid him to. Right now, sitting with the comforter bunched up at his knees, Charles knows that Odette is crying because she had a bad dream. It’s all in the pitch, he’s learned: their little girl gets nasally when she’s feeling sick.

“It’s my birthday,” Charles mumbles back, but Pierre has already fallen back to sleep. So here he is: 3am, far too early to be awake on any day let alone his thirtieth birthday, rolling out of bed to the muted sound of Pierre snoring as he pads across their apartment to the ever-loudening cries from O’s room.

For a moment, when Charles slips in and turns on the little duck light sitting by the door, the crying stops. He watches as Odette registers him—red face calm, tear-shiny cheeks unmoving as she stares at him. Charles wonders if maybe he is going to be the baby whisperer this year and snatch the title from Pierre’s stupidly-smug face…only for the fantasy to disintegrate as Odette begins wailing again, her stuffed bunny somehow out of her crib and sitting on the floor. Maybe that’s it.

“Sweetpea,” Charles coos, sinking down to scoop the stuffed animal up. He leans over the side of the crib and hoists Odette into his free arm and offers her the toy. “What has you so worked up, hm?” Odette hasn’t quite figured out words yet, so her only way of responding is an even louder wail, which Charles can’t stop from wincing at even as he gently shakes the stuffed rabbit in front of her face. “Come on, mon petit cygne, Daddy is right here.” He leans in and plants a wet, loud kiss to her face that, for the moment, at least lowers the wailing back down to a consistent sniffle. “Daddy is here and nothing is going to happen to you.” Another kiss, less exaggerated this time, and it’s like a switch has been flipped. Odette has tempered back down into silence. “There we are, Odette. My beautiful girl. We are okay, see? You and me, we’re okay.” Charles nuzzles at the swell of her cheek and chuckles when she squeaks, a loud noise that certainly would’ve blown out his eardrum if she were any closer to his ear.

They stand there for a long moment, Charles bouncing their daughter lazily in his arms as her breathing settles back down. She’s giggling from it, one hand clutching her stuffed rabbit while the other pounds his shoulder gently, and even with the bone-deep exhaustion he feels from their too-short summer break, Charles is happy. He’s happy.

“Let’s take a walk, bebe, yes?” Admittedly, he is feeling the exhaustion more than he’d like. Odette seems to like the idea of a walk, though, which means he can at least bring her with him to the bedroom, if for no other reason than to tire her out from the movement. When he crosses the threshold of their room, though, he sees Pierre: awake, partially, and propped up against their pillows with this look on his face.

“There’s my princess,” he purrs, lifting his arms in greeting, and Charles is too tired to fight the blush that comes with his double-entendre—that Odette is his princess, but also the reminder that Charles holds that title, too. He shakes his head, plants another wet kiss to their daughter’s cheek just to listen to her squeal. “Did you wake daddy up for his birthday, mon ange?”

“She had to be the very first to tell me,” Charles answers for her solemnly. Pierre’s face breaks into a grin—free of any teasing or flirtation, just raw, unfiltered amusement. Charles swears he hasn’t seen him like this since they were kids.

“Baba,” Odette mumbles against Charles’ cheek where she’s half smashed. It…it sounds like…

“Charles,” Pierre says, voice tight with restraint, “did she just…?”

It sounds like Papa. “I don’t know, Pierre,” he whispers back, bouncing Odette in his arms a little as he walks them closer to bed. “I—it could’ve—maybe?”

“Baba!” Odette squeals, and—it’s 3 in the morning, and Charles is so tired and it sounds like their daughter is trying to say Papa on his birthday.

“Baba,” Charles repeats back to her, pointing at himself, and Pierre chokes on a noise that sounds suspiciously like a sob. He knows he’s probably about to burst into tears at any moment himself. “My smart girl, what a big word!” He kisses her face again, squishing her cheek in the process, and Odette’s laughter is right in his ear again and he is so, so impossibly happy.

“Baba,” Pierre echoes back softly. He beckons for them to join him in bed, and Charles goes easily, bouncing dramatically so that Odette laughs again, then handing her off as he crawls under the blanket. Pierre gets her nestled in the blankets between them. Charles’ vision has gone all watery. “Happy birthday, baba.”

There are worse ways to spend a birthday.

[industrations]

More of cassie!

Tired dads, they try so hard🤍

[thephantom]

To seek revenge may lead to Hell; everyone does it, though seldom as well... As Sweeney... As Sweeney Todd... The Demon Barber of Fleet Street! Josh Groban in the title role, 2023. @theriddletrades' master.

[kingsmoot]

thee sexiest sandor moment btw

[saintchaser]

since you've been talking about girldad sirius, how about girldad sirius with teen daughter or like throughout hogwarts years and stuff idk

OH MY GOD HELLO YEAH? hnmmhh i’m gonna be imagining this from my tattoo artist sirius au simply because that is the universe in which sirius’ daughter exists,,,, helping her with homework when she needs you and coming to all the matches and school events she might have,,,,,,, all of her friends like him (who wouldn’t honestly),,,,,,,,,,, begging him to let her get a tattoo but what she doesn’t know is that sirius had been designing tattoos for her ever since she was little,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, and giving her the notebook for her eighteenth birthday,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, thoughts

[coveredinsun]

i wrote 3 different winnix fics in december & january but i realized i NEVER posted them here. so behold, my series of winnix fics where i get further and further detached from canon, and where i also make lew a girldad for fun

1. darling, it’s grand, they just don’t understand

“Act upon what he finds within himself, and only himself,” said Dick, audibly pensive in a way he hadn’t been. “I quite like that.”

“Well, that’s the gist,” said Lew with a shrug. He wasn’t even in the top half of eloquent men. “Honestly, I really hated reading and analyzing Emerson’s essays. He found a way to talk and talk and talk about nothing at all, when he could’ve kept it perfectly concise.”

Like you, Lew almost said. The bullet got jammed. Still, he had a hunch that Dick could read his mind this one time.

Or: July, 1948. Blanche Nixon invites her brother, and his business partner slash lover, to… a baseball game?

6.5k words, fluffiest of the three; my weird band of brothers/a league of their own (2022) crossover fic??? whatever. blanche invites winnix to a baseball game to see her baseball player girlfriend-ish, all the way mae. stupid emily dickinson references because i’m lame and basic, sue me. gay jazz clubs :)

2. november 27th

“Kathy hates it when I call her Maggie, but I think it’s cute that she’s got a little nickname to grow out of.”

“Or maybe she’ll find someone who calls her Maggie,” replied Dick, totally without thinking. “And he’ll say it’s ‘cause it’s easier, sure. But more than anything he’ll like the way it sounds when he says it.”

When Nix looked at him, then, his eyes glittered. His lips were pursed like he needed to say something or he’d shrivel up and die.

There were many things Dick could conceptualize him saying. Luckily, they fell into two neat categories—the things Dick expected Nix to say, and the things Dick wanted him to.

Or: 1942, 1944, and 1946. A study on Lewis Nixon’s history with love, destructive vices, and fatherhood—as seen from the eyes of a wife and a lover.

8.2k words, perhaps the most densely packed with angst of the three. examines lew and his relationships with love and fatherhood, both alongside kathy and alongside dick. ann winters introduction <3 and classic new jersey angst

3. the likes of me abide

“Well, I feel compelled to be a little more brave now,” replied Dick, holding up his gaze like Atlas held the heavens. “I ought to give you an answer that’s more honest.”

But not fully. It was sort of bitingly ironic, the way Lew always put up Dick as the more honest of them. He didn’t find that to be true. Not when there still existed so many selfish desires in his mind, like the one that practically clawed and scratched like an animal just to fit somewhere into this part of Lew’s life. He might never put that desperation into words.

Or: Summertime, 1951. Lew gets back in touch with Kathy.

10.3k words, angsty but less intensely as last time. i go reallyyyyy ham with kathy’s character in this, so take that as a treat. i also actually make lew and kathy’s daughter into a character <3

[kaaaaaaarf]

🎃trick or treat🍭

TREAT! 🎃

I have had a wolfstar girldads idea in my head for months. I have a playlist and everything, but only have some short snippits written. Their daughter's name is Odette (or Odie for short) and she's three. Her big brother is Teddy, who is fifteen. Snip:

Remus looks exhausted. He has deep purple bags under his eyes and can barely keep his eyes open. He's leaning against the doorway like it's the only thing keeping him upright (frankly, he's never been more attractive, but that's not the point). "She wants to watch Paw Patrol, Sirius. She literally wont let me put anything else on for her, I have tried." Sirius scoffs. "Oh, no. No. ACAB! We aren't letting our only daughter get brainwashed by the establishment." Remus rolls his eyes. "Well if you can get her to watch literally anything else, go for it." "Odie. Why dont we watch Bluey? You love Bluey!"

Odette for her part stomps her feet and clutches her old, tattered baby blanket to her chest. "NO BOUEY!!!! PAW PATOLE, DADDY." "Little bird, we've talked before about the police, yeah? How they are blood suckers who steal money from the pockets of the working class and use institutionalized racism to marginalize our neighbours and members of the community?" Odie raises her arms high and Remus looks on with fond amusement. "YEAH! POPO NONO!" Sirius smiles at her encouragingly. "Thats right! Popo nono. So were not gonna watch Paw Patrol because they are trying to brainwash you into thinking that police are nice and cute and pillars of the community. So, with all that being said. I'm gonna put on Peppa Pig, she's the only pig we can trust." Odette throws herself onto the couch and starts pounding her small fists, sounding impossibly sad. "NONONO. PAW PATOLE. Mahshull Odie's fwiend." Remus looks smug as hell. "Well Sirius, at least she got your flare for the dramatics."

ask box trick-or-treat (fic writer edition)

[cuddleswinchester]

Please enjoy this darling art of Liv by the amazing and kind @siriusnebulae thank you so much 💜

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

so let's say that Malkin (sorry if I spelled wrong) kidnapped a kid and put the kid and jonas in the same place and told Joans to take care of them

Lmao as funny as it could potentially be for Malik to have some kind of random kid, there's literally no reason he would ever kidnap one unless he was being paid very well for an underage snuff film (don't think he has morals -- he only charges insane prices for those because they're much more riskier). If a kid ends up in his basement, they're not coming back to the surface in one piece...

He also wouldn't leave them with Jonas unattended to be purposely taken care of. Jonas could easily have the kid help him escape or get a weapon or a myriad of other things that could be detrimental to Malik's whole business. Besides, Jonas knows next to nothing about raising kids no matter if they're ten months or ten years old. Malik isn't particularly fond of children anyways, so it's not like they're something he'd want to keep around. The only time it's been mentioned that he wants kids is in the silly fem!Jonas AU, but that's solely so that he has something to hold over her into submission while keeping up with his sweet gentleman public persona.

[maxemilianverstappen]

.

[miamierre]

pierre/charles and "Hot Single Parent and babysitter/nanny"

18. Hot Single Parent and babysitter/nanny

It's embarrassing, Charles thinks as he waits at the stoplight around the corner from his street, that he's on his way home now and not, you know, two and a half hours later than what he'd told the babysitter. He hadn’t even been out for more than an hour in the first place, including driving to the restaurant—

It’s the last time he lets Carlos set him up on a fucking date, so help him. You should stop using those single dad apps, he’d insisted while they were standing in line to pay for their cafeteria lunches, I know a guy.

And sure, Charles had been a little skeptical, especially because Carlos isn’t exactly known for his judgment around the office, but it’s been ages since he’s been out for real—Hervé is his life from the moment he wakes up to the moment he goes to sleep, and it’s been that way since he was born. There’d been no time for dating, or really anything that wasn’t his son.

But Carlos had been insistent that Charles would like this guy. He is fun, he’d promised, and Charles, because he’s terrible at saying no, had agreed.

Of course, that agreement had hinged upon his life-saving babysitter, Pierre, being available.

I'm going out tomorrow night, he'd texted after pulling into the preschool parking lot, are you around to watch Hervé for the night? Pierre, of course, because he is the most reliable babysitter Charles has ever known, is free—so it’d been set, and Charles had gone out after giving Pierre the usual walkthrough of the house even though they’ve done this plenty of times before. Pierre had smiled at him easily, nodded, promised that Hervé is in good hands (something Charles knows without even having to hear it from Pierre himself) and Charles had said I’ll be home by 11, you can use my card to buy whatever you like.

“Don’t worry, Charles,” Pierre had murmured, resting a comforting hand on his bicep. The warmth of his palm had seeped right through Charles’ dress shirt. “Go out and have fun.” His smile had gotten wider, then, and it’d only struck Charles there, moments before he was about to go out on his first date in over three years, that Pierre is handsome. Really, just—handsome is a tasteful way of putting it, which he’d begged himself to stick to because, again, date.

So Charles left. Drove to the restaurant that Carlos had texted him the address to.

And, half an hour in, he’d left. Max was—Charles is going to kill his coworker for this, making him think that it would be a good time. There’s no spark and Charles knew it the moment they’d sat down, but he’d tried to at least stick it out because, maybe he’s just rusty after all this time.

No. There’s no two ways around it, it is simply a bad date. Charles doesn’t even feel bad for excusing himself to the bathroom and then bolting because talking to drying paint would be more interesting than whatever had been happening between them.

He only remembers that he hadn’t actually told Pierre he was on his way home until now, though—five minutes away from his house, at the world’s longest red light. He grabs his phone to shoot off a quick omw back message only to realize, to his chagrin, that it’d died somewhere between the restaurant and here. Stupid Google Maps.

The light finally turns green, and Charles tries his damnedest not to speed the rest of the way back. He doesn’t care that he doesn’t have a romantic life right now. Hervé is the only thing that matters to him, really—he’s sure spending time making faces at his son and giggling with him over wooden puzzles would be a thousand times more interesting than whatever obnoxious commentary Max was trying to give about…shit, Charles doesn’t even remember. He’ll pay Pierre for the whole night anyway, because it’s only right, but…he just wants to be home. The sight of his driveway is a bigger relief than he could’ve possibly imagined. He all but tumbles out of the driver’s seat, locking his car haphazardly and practically skipping up his front steps to knock, once, on the door.

Wait, he realizes flatly, this is my house. He’s about to open the door himself when it swings backwards and…

There’s Pierre. The look on his face goes from at ease to surprised in a moment, and he shifts on his feet to balance Hervé on his hip, keeping him snugly held against him. “Charles,” he says, eyebrows high on his forehead. “I thought you were—on a date?” He steps aside and Charles enters his own house, entirely enchanted by the sight before him.

“Papa!” Hervé exclaims, reaching one arm out to grab for him. He doesn’t loosen his hold on Pierre, though. “Me ‘n Pear pizza!!” His face is so bright with joy, laughter twinkling in his eyes, and a lump forms in Charles’ throat at the sight of it: his whole world, babbling delightedly as the babysitter…is beaming his full attention right at him, both arms now keeping him carefully tucked close.

“Yeah, big man,” Pierre murmurs, and then turns to Charles, “I ordered pizza and thought you were, um, the guy.” He laughs softly, then shrugs. “It should be here any minute, now, so you two can—if you haven’t already eaten, I—”

“No,” Charles interrupts hastily, waving a hand. Pierre’s mouth closes, protest stopped. For a moment, he can only stare: Hervé with his cheek smushed on Pierre’s shoulder, Pierre’s hold so casual yet careful as they stand in the hall. His son is good with people, Charles knows, but this is different. The fondness rolling off of the babysitter in waves is different than anything Charles has ever felt before, even when he quirks his brows at the extended silence. Oh. “No, um, you should—you should stay for dinner, Pierre. It’s.” Why is he nervous? This is his babysitter he’s talking to, not some—some date he’s meeting for the first time. “I came back early, you should at least eat with us.”

Pierre’s eyes, already warm with affection for Hervé, light up even more at the invitation. “Are you sure?”

Charles is. “Yes, yes, of course.” He tilts his head towards the kitchenette. “I’ll pay you for the whole night, but you should at least stay for dinner. I—” he coughs. “I think Hervé would love that.”

“Pear, Pear!” Hervé exclaims in agreement. It only takes a few moments before Pierre is smiling hugely, nodding along. Charles feels like a whole ton has been lifted off his shoulders. He’s not entirely sure why.

[industrations]

WOLFSTAR GIRLDADS!!!!

Okay so this is cassie (oc) she’s wolfstar’s adopted werewolf daughter, i’ve seen this headcanon floating around and it just made me really soft. I made her a while ago with some friends and she’s very special to me, so bc of that i also ask that if you use her please give me credit. It would make me really sad to see her get stolen:(

Also this background took fucking forever omg but it was worth it🤍

[wolfkitty42]

i have a headcanon that king, queen and rouxls either have the same birthday or ones very close to each other so lancer has to go through a birthday gift gauntlet to get everyone stuff in time

[pettyprocrastination]

thinking about how when you return from the battle of blackwater oberyn all but launches himself at you in a bruising kiss. Hands scrambling to hold onto you because he spent the last three weeks trying to grapple with the fact that you probably died in kings landing and now you're here in his arms alive and safe. When he pulls away breathless he makes you swear to never frighten him and ellaria like that again. He’ll tie you up to the bed to keep you here if he has to. 

Before you can answer he hears a little giggle and looks over your shoulder to find a girl whose head barely reaches your hip that grinning up at you both. You introduce her as shireen and he realizes shes your- and his- niece. and she just watched him shove his tongue down your throat. 

[alteredsilicone]

I just know that Albrecht has stashed away Euleria's childhood toys and drawings somewhere in the Netracells.

[sparkles-and-trash]

My dad called me and said he has to take the car to the shop tomorrow and offered to take me out to look for my hair oil after if I’m okay keeping him complany while we wait on the car omg he truly is the best friend a girl could want 😭