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thelastairsimblr · 2 months

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Family Pack #4

I’m happy to share some sims with you all today! In this post, you’ll find 12 households (40 sims total), each with their own stories and biographies. All of these sims have additional Everyday outfits, skills, bonus traits, Likes and Dislikes, sexual orientations, pronouns, family dynamics, and Lifestyles. You can find them all on the gallery under my Origin ID: TheLastAirSimmer or in the tray files linked under the cut! As always, feel free to tag me if you end up using them.

Abreu

A respected food critic, Maria’s opinion is highly valued by all as the towns’ baked good connoisseur. Her husband Joaquin, a renowned pianist, is no exception; he worships the ground she walks on. Together, they project their creative outlooks onto their sons. Santiago, the eldest and a romantic, has the full support of his parents and wants to become a professional wedding photographer. Even though young Rémy feels he didn’t inherit his parents’ imagination, he still wants to make them proud.

Naval

Aparna owned her own restaurant while raising her two girls alone. Hema was able to help out when she was old enough, allowing Aparna to find success and receive critical acclaim by publishing her own cookbook. Today, Hema is focusing on her engineering studies while trying to find love; she’s very smart and sincere, but a bit naive. Ridhi is chasing a riskier path; she wants to be a famous musician. And while Aparna hopes that this is just a phase, she supports her youngest daughter anyway.

Monaghan

As young parents, Stefan and Marianne sacrificed a lot. Stefan became a cop to support his family, but still gets caught up trying to relive his youth from time to time. Marianne longs for the day that she can quit her job at the local diner and become a singer. Soren feels pressure to please his parents, but really just want to play videogames all day while Tatum and Aria constantly bicker, not at all concerned with their parents’ feelings or the wellbeing of Hunter, who just wants attention.

Larson

Quite the jazz singer in his day, Clive is desperate to find ways to stay relevant in the ever-changing music scene. Fiona, longing for the authentic soul who serenaded her years ago, knows she can inspire him again; she’s stood by him through a lot. But until then, you can find the melancholy art critic drinking to yesteryear at the bar. Jade dropped out of college to pursue a career in social media (much to Fiona’s discontent) while Candice is following the artistic path her parents paved.

Agawa

Ever the class clown, Yuto knew that he had a knack for entertaining people. This was only confirmed after he went viral on Social Bunny for the first time! When he told his parents that he wanted to pursue a life in the public eye, they saw it as further evidence that he couldn’t take anything seriously. He makes a decent living streaming video games and his eccentric personality is pure internet gold. Though to be fair, he should probably be a bit cautious with what he says and does online.

Hollifield

As a teen, Whitney’s future looked bright. But she forfeited a lot of opportunities to pursue a whirlwind romance with a boy who had a dangerous edge. They were happy for a time, but it didn’t last and the only thing she kept from that relationship was her daughter Emma. She now works a lowly job in fast food while taking classes at Britechester, hoping to find a career in social media. Her days are busier as a working single mom, but Emma keeps herself entertained by befriending her neighbors.

Catton

Following the loss of her son to avoidable circumstances, Dottie found herself in the care of his two children. Filled with regret for not doing more for her son, the college professor watches the kids like a hawk! She’s keen on using her connections to better their lives. Temperamental Owen does well to make her proud with his grades, but he has an artsy side that he only shares with those closest to him. His little sister Bonnie would rather spend time making friends than studying though.

Qian

After founding a groundbreaking app, Shirong found a place among the company of the rich and powerful. His charming wife Meifing, quite the schmoozer at elite parties, is constantly looking for funding for her next big venture (while also being the go-to-girl for all the neighborhood gossip). Nuo chose to move home after grad school to save money, but is ready to leave and start her own law firm. Her younger brother Haoyu adds to her restlessness by barraging her with his antics.

Sullivan

Atticus’ dad Clifford, a retired veteran, supported his sons’ musical dreams fully, having raised him alone after his wife died. While roaming the world, Atticus met Elisa; a fashion guru with a fiery disposition. The pair had three children and Clifford moved in to help with the newborn. Like her dad, Lydia also wants to be an artist (whether if it’s for her love for acting or a desire to be in the spotlight remains to be seen) while Malicia, afraid of being unseen, finds relief in her friends.

Kingsley-Ramirez

Jaime and Paxton met/moved in together before they could actually get to know each other, both having been new to the city at the time with zero connections. They found themselves compatible not only as roommates, but eventually boyfriends as well! Jaime always puts others before himself; it shows in the passion he has for social justice causes he advocates for. Meanwhile, Pax works a parttime job at a small coffee shop, but is intent on putting himself through school to become a veterinarian.

Tanaka-Murdock

Nigel and Shannon met at Foxbury and developed feelings for each other during study sessions. Though Nigel was the only one to graduate, he admires Shannon for making the decision that was right for her. He enjoys being the breadwinner while Shannon follows her artistic instincts, though he wishes he had his wife’s free spirit. Shannon is quite hard on herself and works tirelessly until she makes something she’s proud of while their son Kason, while a quick learner, really just wants to play.

Miyake

Even if he’s never been the most social person, Kenzo is a loyal and fierce friend to those lucky enough to make it into his circle. A patron of the sciences, he cares deeply about precision and perfection. However, when it comes to raising his son Akira, he wants the boy to follow his own path, even if it’s not exactly the one he would choose for himself. Akira seems to be doing just that; far more sociable than his father, he never fails to leave a lasting impression on anyone he meets.

#the sims 4 #TS4 #sims 4 #sims 4 cc free #sims dump #sim dump #sims 4 vanilla #family dump

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camilicy · 1 year

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Lost in the sauce 🐭🍒

#art #myart #artists on tumblr #drawing #illustration #doodles #my art #doodle #cute #animals #sylvanian families #I had this in my dump folders and decided to revive it #some experimental doodling

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angelx1992 · 11 days

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#florida #texas #evangelicals #maga morons #qanon morons #vote blue #trump crime family #republican shit show #iowa #utah #meme #arizona #dump trump #memes #alabama #colorado #trump trials

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catpriciousmarjara · 7 months

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Okay so there's this dp x dc tumblr post about the JL finding the Ghost King's family tree or something and lots of misunderstandings happening but I can't find it anymore and would be grateful if someone would send it to me... Anyhow I was inspired by it and this is the result!

Also on ao3 if you wanna check it out there!

The Family Tree

"So you're telling me this is just a family tree?", Green Lantern asked with a frown on his face.

Bruce could see Constantine's eyes twitching at that question. As always, leave it to Hal Jordan to annoy people.

"This isn't just anything", the sorcerer said with narrowed eyes. "It's a Class-X magical artifact. If this thing is used as a focus for a ritual, the magnitude of magical energy would rise by at least 80 factors. For those of you non-magical or unfamiliar with magic, that's fucking huge."

Beside him Zatanna nodded, her gaze still fixed on the ancient manuscript. She hadn't taken her eyes off the scroll for more than a minute since she got to the Watch Tower and first saw it spread out on the containment room table. Constantine was the same. Captain Marvel was not present, working along with Superman, Hawkgirl, and Aquaman on a case, but his reactions have always been dissimilar from his magical colleagues, so his case might be anywhere between staying the hell away from it to trying to inhale it.

It was clear to Bruce that Zatanna coveted it, but was sensible and cautious enough to stay away from it. Constantine had no sense so he was a tossup. From where he was standing between Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter, the Gotham vigilante resolved to keep an eye on the two magicians. They most likely won't try to steal the artifact, considering the heavy dose of 'not messing with that thing' overshadowing the desire to possess it, but the scroll itself might be enchanted to encourage covetous feelings on those nearby. It wouldn't be the first time. Better safe than sorry.

It was Diana that stepped up towards the two JL Dark members to seek more clarification. As both a Demigod and as someone familiar with magic, she was usually the one taking point on such issues.

She gestured to the scroll innocently sitting inside the runic circle the two mages had constructed around it. "You have told us that the artifact is not destructive, that it is merely a record, and that the information it contains is not a spell, or a runic arrangement, or a magic circle. You have also told us that the strange energy readings coming from it are mostly due to the material it's made out of than any catastrophic sorcery enchanted into it. You have at last decoded it as a record of a family tree. Yet it is dangerous, a Class-X relic as you've said. Given all this information, I suppose the correct question to ask here is this: why is a family tree capable of raising magical energy output by 80 factors?"

The two magicians looked at each other. Zatanna finally pried her eyes away from the scroll and faced the room.

"Magic is a force that simultaneously has laws but at the same time adheres to none. It's confusing to explain but for the time being just keep that in mind."

She walked to the center of the room, followed by Constantine, visibly trying to collect her words. Bruce prepared himself for a complicated explanation and activated another one of the batsuit's recorders. He felt the urge to sigh, for a supposed unchained force, Magic was needlessly complex at times, and practically incomprehensible to non-magicals.

At the front, Zatanna took a deep breath and began.

"As you know there are multiple dimensions. But magical dimensions come under a different category. Depending on the overall magical potential of a particular magical dimension, we call it the World State Stable Thaumaturgical Output Capacity, we can classify these dimensions in grades and levels, as either higher or lower, with relation to each other. These levels are dependent on a multitude of variables like space, time, gravity, Events, Proximity, etc and as such are non-linear, and unfixed. That's the first thing."

Bruce could practically see the capitals on the last two. Looks like they would need to hold another meeting to clarify a lot of these concepts. Seeing the dawning of lost expressions on some of the members however, Bruce mentally amended that to many future meetings.

Zatanna continued. "Magical objects from higher dimensions become stronger in lower ones. The inverse is also true. This is all in relation to the Overture and the same polarity orientation of course but we don't need to get into that now-"

On the contrary Bruce thought they really needed more explanation on all of that.

"-In simple terms, a child's toy from a higher dimension could become the focus for an apocalyptic ritual in a much lower dimension, while an apocalyptic artifact from a lower dimension might as well be paperweight in a sufficiently higher one. There are ways around it, but if those methods are not implemented, then this is how it generally goes. The larger the level difference, the higher the power."

Now that wasn't concerning at all. Bruce really needed to update his contingency plans regarding magic.

Constantine continued from where Zatanna left off, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

"The second thing is that when it comes to magic, things that are indefinable or unquantifiable become definable and quantifiable. Stuff like love, hate, happiness, despair, fate, necessity, authority? All measurable. Not always needed of course, But definitely possible and frequently used in a variety of magical fields."

The sorcerer leaned against a nearby chair. "One such thing is Significance. The magic contained in true names for instance is mostly based on significance. A true name is significant to you, its a doorway to your soul, and therefore it holds power. Significance is also what we call a positive, additive factor in magic. In the absence of interfering variables, significance as a quantity is directly proportional to magical output. In other words-"

"-the more significant an object or an event, the higher the magical energy output, and consequently higher the magical power", J'onn finished. He looked towards the scroll. "The information recorded on it, the family tree as you've said, valuable in significance, most likely in terms of whose family it's a record of. In addition, the artifact is from a higher dimension with relation to ours, and that has a cumulative effect."

"Yeah exactly", said Constantine with a raised eyebrow. "Which means that if that hypothetical toy Zatanna mentioned? If that happened to be important enough, like a first toy, or a cherished gift or something like that, its significance increases, its potential increases, and in the right hands, or in the wrong hands really, that potential could be harnessed at a lower level."

There was a bout of thoughtful silence as they absorbed all of the information.

But Bruce felt as if he had been quiet enough and took the chance to ask a question of his own. "You mentioned something called the Overture, and polarity orientation. What do they mean?"

Constantine just sighed. "For fuck's sake Batsy those things aren't really important to the discussion..."

Bruce just stared.

..."Fine", the mage said in defeat. "There are many names for it, the Overture, Exordium, Legerdomain, Nascence...but the most accepted two are the Beforebirth, and the Womb. It's not a something as much as it's a someplace, but then again it's not really a place either. Simply put it's the birthplace of Magic, where it all began and all that. It can't be accessed without the Key and that's been lost for a long time. It's actually a mission for many magicals to find it you know? A holy quest for a lot of them. Some of them are straight up crazy though."

Bruce field that information safely away. Figure out a plan to combat fanatic magicians trying to find the birthplace of magic for sinister reasons. "And polarity?"

"Well", Zatanna began, "its how magic is classified according to the nature of...magic? Or rather the essence? It's hard to put in mundane terms...Anyhow broadly speaking there are two main polarities, the Obverse, and the Reverse."

For a moment, she struggled with the explanation before brightening, seemingly having found an idea.

"Picture a number line, but like on the y-axis! Zero is the Overture, Obverse dimensions are the positive number side, and Reverse dimensions are the negative numbers! The higher up the obverse dimension, the larger its magical output! Similarly, the lower down the reverse dimension, the higher its magical output."

Bruce had hardly parsed through that when their resident speedster spoke up.

"Guys", the red clad hero said, "I feel like we missed the obvious follow up question after Ollie over here...like I feel like this is important, but where exactly is the scroll from?"

As one everyone turned towards the artifact.

Constantine grimaced and Zatanna winced. They looked at each other as if asking who wanted to bite the bullet. Finally it looked as if Constantine lost. The sorcerer cursed under his breath.

"Well which dimension is the scroll from?", asked Wonder Woman.

Constantine took what looked like a fortifying breath.

"It's from the Infinite Realms."

Silence.

"What?", the Green Lantern asked intelligently.

"It's from the Infinite Realms. As in Infinite. As in end of the figurative fucking line, number line whatever!"

Everyone stared at the magicians as understanding slowly dawned.

There was what was essentially a magical nuke in the Watch Tower.

"Now", began Martian Manhunter, "this is unfortunate".

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reignmaefall · 6 months

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Reblog this to tell whoever you reblogged it from that you're proud of them.

#i am so burnt out #school is killing me #yes i seek validation from strangers on the internet #yes it is a trauma response #yes my trauma is self induced from my neurodivergence #yes i am undiagnosed #yes it is genetic and other people in my family have it #yes my neurodivergence is constantly overlooked #yes my grades just went up but im still not on the honor roll and technically failing #*but fuck i am trying here*#anyway #not to trauma dump or anything besties #i want validation pls

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magicicephoenix · 5 months

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portable son!

#batim #bendy and the ink machine #batdr #bendy and the dark revival #bendy #henry stein #the ink demon #linda stein #doodle dump #ignore the lore and enjoy the family #entirely inspired by someone else’s ask mourning the stories in which henry brings bendy home to linda. who says he can’t?#we can do whatever we want forever <3 #bendy is making puppy dog eyes btw. if that wasn’t obvious. but he doesn’t need to anyhow because linda’s already on board :)

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linkbetweenlinks · 24 days

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Imagine an alternate universe where botw Link pulls out the master sword at a young age (like 6 idk) but instead of reporting it to the royal family, Link and his family just keep it hidden and tell no one that the child has it. Link doesn't join the hyrule army at a young age, instead he spends his childhood helping out in his family's tavern (mainly in the kitchen). He has no responsibility on his shoulders because his parents raised him not to care about what an old sword thinks of him.

One day the royal family make their way through the lost woods only to find that the sword isn't there. Remember, Link's family told no one that he pulled the sword (rn it's stored somewhere in the attic underneath a pile of spare furniture for the tavern). Royal family obviously freaks the heck out cos where is it?? Link's family, being the tavern owners they are, obviously hear word on the street the royal family can't find the master sword. What does Link's family do? Put more furniture on top of the sword because honestly in this day and age can't hyrule think of a better way to stop an apocalypse than a single kid with an ancient sword?

Apocalypse begins, but it doesn't get very far because (1) Zelda is confident in herself thanks to an entire childhood of not being compared to Link's feats and (2) Link walks right up the the sanctum sword in hand, and just stabs that gross cocoon that hasn't had 100yrs to turn into a full-fledged Ganon. Zelda (who was wielding her powers to subdue Ganon) notices him and the sword, and asks him why he didn't show up sooner. His response? "Because until today I didn't have a reason to." Zelda asks him what's his reason then. He says "this mf burned down my family's tavern" – then just walks away. Calamity over before it even had a real chance.

#this was a mind dump lol #my brain really took “link never tells anyone he has the sword” and ran with it #also we love a loving and supportive family for Link #should I make this a fic?#anyway hope this made you laugh #botw #breath of the wild #the legend of zelda: breath of the wild #totk #linked universe #lu #lu wild

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vitamimesea · 6 months

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(WIP sketches)

the afton family lore is taking over my brain

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #michael afton #william afton #jeremy fitzgerald #fnaf movie #doodle dump #afton family #wip #this is becoming my current hyperfixation #please dont mind the quality #vitamimesea art

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saltseashark · 5 months

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famblies (found or otherwise)

#a sketch dump . by meeee . hiiii im here still i prommy #mash #hrughhh so man y people #trapper mcintyre #max klinger #bj hunnicutt #hawkeye pierce #radar oreilly #margaret houlihan #of which there is a distinct lack of for once lol #charles emerson winchester iii #francis mulcahy #and OTHERS sorry sorry im sure theres more #nurse kellye #u get one bc i like u a lot #waughhhhh most of these are because i went insane abt cute casual affection and families (see. the mcintyre girls bc im soooooooooooooooooo #normal abt that). but yeah enjoy i shall slink back into the shadows i am doing another mash painting so thatll probably happen at some #point. UMMM ummm. buy my acrylic charms boy.#my art #long post #NEARLY FORGOT THAT SJDKFSDF but tbh if u follow me its a long post. its always a long post unless i get too impatient to save up on drawing

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christyyeee · 2 years

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Tubing. (I have a brain dump)

#sxf twilight #sxf yor #sxf #sxf thorn princess #art dump #art #spy family #spy x family #loidyor #loid forger #yor forger #loid x yor #twiyor #modern au

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coochiequeens · 3 months

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That poor woman. She has a second kid on the way and her husband pulls this

Ok time for another round of the TIM checklist

He came out when the attention was on a woman in the family ✅️

He is not out in public so he's still enjoying straight male privilege ✅️

Spent a lot of money on gender affirming clothes ✅️

Those gender affirming clothes aren't even feminine yet practical like a pair of women's jeans ✅️

He spent in on panties and bras when he doesn't even have boobs ✅️

He had a boner while wearing women's panties ✅️

He made up a statistic about how much women spend on clothes a month to justify it ✅️

He then spends three times that amount when his wife in her last trimester ✅️

Claimed its OK because it came from "his" money ✅️ No sir when you have one kid another one on the way large purchases need approval from both parents

When she called him out on why he has more money i.e. male privilege, she took time off for maternity leave and he has the fatherhood advantage, he claimed to be triggered to try to make her feel bad for hurting his feelings ✅️

Not planning on any what ifs ✅️ like what if the there's a complication during the birth and they have more medical bills than they expected? What if recovery takes longer and they consider spending on a cleaning lady or getting take out or prepared meals?

This should be the real trans bingo

#Reddit #MyPartnerIsTrans #Narcissistic men using gender identity to take attention away from the women in their family #Dump him #That extra 5000 a year would be spent on alimony and child support

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thelastairsimblr · 1 year

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Family Pack #3

I’m happy to share some sims with you all today! In this post, you’ll find 10 households (40 sims total), each with their own stories and biographies. All of these sims have additional Everyday outfits, skills, bonus traits, Likes and Dislikes, sexual orientations, pronouns, family dynamics, and Lifestyles. You can find them all on the gallery under my Origin ID: TheLastAirSimmer or in the tray files linked under the cut! As always, feel free to tag me if you end up using them.

Guillroy-Jeong

Some families don’t survive a divorce. That wasn’t the case for the Guillory’s; in fact, it only brought Aston and Déon closer. Déon had never considered that the fisherman was experiencing a midlife crisis until he married Willow, a joyful artist half his age. Things were tense initially, but seeing how happy she made Aston was enough to diffuse the tension until Uriel arrived. Déon wants to support this new dynamic, but a needy toddler in the mix might force them to branch out of their bubble.

Carbone

For better or worse, Greta has always been one to stand by her choices. She’s had a song in her heart from a young age, but put her dreams of being a pianist to the side once Albie was born. She works as a teacher to support her family, but hopes one day to play again. However, it would be good enough to see Albie fulfill his own dreams of becoming a professional dancer, temperamental though he may be. Like her mother and brother, Beatrice too is unapologetically developing musical aspirations.

Duggal

When Bikram and Mia wed, they agreed their careers would come first before starting a family. Their first pregnancy surprised them, but Bikram pivoted to adjust to the new circumstances. Mia, however, was eager to get back to work after the birth. As a doctor, she provided enough for Bikram to cut back at the restaurant and care for Parker. There was a cost, though; today, Parker resents Mia. Wanting to avoid repeating that mistake, Mia is keen on loving her boys, the nerdy Antwan and wary Levi.

Salamé

Being raised by Adeline had a profoundly different effect on her kids. Dasia, the eldest, often butted heads with the stubborn matriarch and found comfort in her high school sweetheart Imman. Baqil, the obvious favorite, stayed on the set path and wants to make her proud (coffee is his best friend when it comes to staying on top of his classes). Having married and had kids too young, Dasia and Imman reluctantly moved in and Adeline has since been keen on taking control of the girls’ rearing.

Lavigne-Jarrah

Falling for an artist was not at all what Rahim had planned. As an engineer, he values structure and practicality, but Gabrielle offers him a new lens to see the world through. This interior designer also takes note from her husband and has adopted his attention to detail in her own work. Their daughter Francesca has her moms’ creative spirit and shows promise (even if she focuses more on boys in her class than her painting skills) and Xavier is more interested in gaming than being book smart.

Newkirk

Landon had made many futile attempts to woo his high school crush Johanna, but it wasn’t until he sang a song for her on his guitar that she noticed him. They remain together today, accepting of the others’ quirks. Johanna can often fly off the handle, but Landon is always there to ease her mind. They try to do their part to save the world and instill ecofriendly values in their kids; lessons that young Averie has taken in good spirits. The unpredictable Reagan, however, is a different story.

Tillman

Not long ago, Siobhan was living her dream; traveling and performing music with her friends. But creative differences led to a massive falling out and the band split up. Now directionless, she moved in with her older sister Bianca, who was happy to reconnect after years apart (and maybe get some help with her two boys) but Siobhan may as well be a third child. Desmond and Cale love having their aunt around though, and it’s nice at times to get a reprieve so Bianca can focus on her meditation.

Oertel

A woman of science with a lot of love to give, Sandra knew early on that she wanted to have a child and give them the warm upbringing that she never had. Despite not having a partner, she decided to undergo in-vitro fertilization. She certainly did a good job of instilling Jonas with a high level of confidence (almost to a point of arrogance) and even as a grown man, he has Sandra wrapped around his finger. He doesn’t take his studies seriously, but has a passion for all things outdoors.

Kwame-Zhang

Lily and Daphanie were ready to take on San Myshuno and on their way to becoming a power couple. Or so Lily thought, until Daphanie changed course. After adopting the girls, Daphanie drove a hard bargain on moving to a quieter part of town. She was able to adjust as a fashion designer, sending off submissions from the comfort of her home. Lily however finds herself commuting to the city, unwilling to forfeit her spot as an up-and-coming food critic, despite missing quality time with her family.

Silva-Ortiz

Gustavo takes his values seriously and expects others to do the same. Quite a negotiator, his wife Flavia is able to use her husbands’ political network to pass her green initiatives around town. Though cohesive as a pair, they differed in their parenting styles; Flavia always trusted her sons’ judgement while Gustavo often quarreled with their eldest Robbie, who only wants to party. Averse to conflict, Paolo does as he’s told, even forgoing his own wants to throw himself fully into his studies.

#the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 vanilla #sims 4 cc free #sims dump #sim dump #family dump

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slfcare · 2 years

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Beauty exists because life exists. Vibrant plants look best when they’re well taken care of. Fields of green and patches of grass look best when they’re watered regularly. You can tell when a pet is doing well, fed well, brushed and washed and loved. In people, someone’s kindness makes them more beautiful. Someone’s sense of humor. The snort when they laugh. The way they mispronounce certain words, their habits, their individuality. The color in their cheeks, the little scars and the stories behind them (fell off of a trampoline, thought I could swing without holding onto anything, my sister hit me with the remote because we were fighting over the remote—and the way they laugh or shake their head telling the story). Expressing their emotions. Being fragile and soft. Being loud and talkative. Beauty is so interesting because it goes farther than outward appearances, and sometimes even seems to affect it. I think, the more unapologetically alive you are, the more beautiful you are. The more you find beauty in other people, in the depths of them and not just the way they look, the more you’ll find it in yourself.

#mind dump #bee tells a story #the healing (starts here)#growth in the self #comfort kindness family #positive #positivity #posi #positivity suggestions #positivity suggestion #self care #self love #self growth #mental health

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angelx1992 · 9 days

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inoghmia · 10 months

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Doodle dump

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rivetingrosie4 · 28 days

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What a Life (Morgan & Family: A Fluff Dump, Pt. 2)

credit to @foundynnel i believe for 2 of the edits above

𑁦𐂂𑁦

Summary: Part of a modern au (and post gang) fluff dump work. Just a scene in which Arthur and reader enjoy secluded family life with their very young son. Arthur is a cute and loving dad and is adored by reader.

Tags: fluff without plot, family fluff, romantic fluff, domestic setting, parenthood

Word count: 2,660

In the cool shadow of the cabin, thrown long by the late morning sun, you sit with your little son, watching him play in the sandbox. The mourning dove’s rounded, plaintive hoots are parried by the sharp, tinkling warbles of goldfinches in the nearby pine branches, and the fragrances of crisp mist and thick sod linger in the mountain air.

You watch the faint glimmer of day paint the crests of Gabriel’s cupid’s bow with light, his plump lips resting between his two rotund cheeks as he concentrates on the toys before him. The wispy feathers of his splayed lashes bow and rise with each blink. His beautiful, shimmering eyes inspect each toy, each color, each shape. Out of all the blocks, large puzzle pieces, rings, balls, and animal toys half-buried in the sand, he has landed on one. You watch the bulbous pads and segments of each tiny, clumsy finger curl to a strong, stable grasp around the edge of the object of his aim—a large block with an Appaloosa sketched and painted lovingly on the side.

“Just like your daddy,” you whisper to yourself.

Dipping your fingers into the sand and feeling its chill envelop your skin, you look up with a smile to gaze in the direction of the stables. In the distance, you catch sight of Arthur hauling a huge saddle and its accompanying tack, a moment before he disappears through the door and into the shaded interior.

You recall the quiet rustling of his rising this morning when he’d been up before the sun, as he often is. And the way he’d kept from waking the baby in his room, intentionally leaving you to reap the reward of your son’s customary gleeful smile, his bounce in his crib, and his lifting of his arms for you.

You turn back to your eleven-month-old with a burgeoning smirk. “Wanna come help Mama make some sourdough?”

“Yeah,” he immediately chirps, recognizing nothing but the lilt of a question in your voice. But he doesn’t look up at you, still captured by the blocks and puzzle pieces.

You stand and take a few steps away to prompt him. “Well let’s go!” you call.

He braces himself on the sand with his palms, a moment later lifting his tush into the air. When he straightens, his brows knot, and his lips dangle from between his cheeks as he gazes down confoundedly at the discomfort of sand stuck to his flesh.

You snort a laugh as you cover the sandbox behind him. “Just go like this, Gabe Baby.”

You show him your flattened hands and slowly brush them together.

His brows don’t budge as he looks back and forth from your hands to his own, unable to fully brush them.

“Like this,” you whisper, gently taking his wrists and swiftly brushing his palms back and forth over each other.

When the sand is removed, he toddles to follow you up towards the cabin, and you carry him when you reach the oak staircase to the back door.

As you turn onto the wraparound porch, you notice Arthur now hefting a huge bale of hay by its cords into the stable, his black leather hat shading most of his face in the distance. But you like to imagine he wears a subconscious smile, now enjoying a life of simplicity, filled with nature and horses and art and family and love, tucked away from the gnarled heartache that gang life had left in its wake.

“Sandy baby,” you mumble when you arrive inside and close the back door behind you.

You promptly remove both your shoes and strip Gabriel to his diaper, tossing his sandy clothes into the hamper.

“Are you dry?” you ask vainly as he starts to toddle away. “Wait, are you dry?” You deftly hook a finger down his back and into his diaper before he can fully get away.

Peering into his diaper, you find no present. You carefully squeeze his bottom to discover no liquid deposit.

When you release him, he immediately darts down the hall. You follow and walk into the kitchen, beckoning him to join you. When he does and you bend to pick him up, he whines to be allowed to remain standing on his own.

“Well how’re you gonna see from down there?” you lightly ask.

When he shakes his head, you half-frown. It was just a couple weeks ago that eleven-month-old Gabriel began walking. Since then, he’s always wriggling out of your arms and dashing across rooms, seemingly already excited to be as independent as he can be.

At first, it stung. With the love and special intimacy of mother and son—and with even the chemistry and well-being of your bodies both dependent on the other—the two of you had been closer than peas in a pod, glued at the hip for so long. It’s always been and still is a precious bond to you, though its daily aspects continue to gradually change. And it was hard to so suddenly feel a little unneeded. But Arthur has helped you find a comfort in the balance of realizing that your feelings are only natural, and that you’ve been raising a wonderful and healthy little boy, with this change as just another bit of proof.

As well as the fact that Gabriel still likes to cherry-pick when he’s carried and when he walks on his own. You suspect that like any human, his adamant desire for independence doesn’t do one thing to hinder his deep enjoyment and fierce need of being held.

So you turn and begin pulling ingredients and dishes from the cupboard, at last going to the fridge to retrieve your sourdough starter. You begin mixing ingredients in your big bowl atop the counter, when you hear a whimper and feel a few hard tugs at your palazzos. And you smirk.

You glance down to find him with arms outstretched and upheld for you, bouncing on his tiptoes with longing. You stoop and lift him to you, hugging him to your hip and pressing a few kisses soundly to his smooth cheek.

Describing each action aloud to him, you finish mixing, dust the countertop with copious amounts of flour, and turn the bowl with your free hand to dump the dough.

“Now we knead,” you almost sing, in hushed tones.

Perched on your hip, his plump little arm drapes with familiarity and utmost contentedness over the back of your shoulder. He watches your every gesture with a mixture of restful curiosity and heightened interest.

You push the dough away and pull it towards you again and again, tucking the edges underneath as you do, to form a smooth, rounded surface on top.

“You wanna feel it? You wanna knead?” you ask.

Leaning forward, you let him reach and press his tiny hand into the supple surface of the cool dough.

“Gentle,” you say, showing him the way you keep your fingers outstretched and softly brush and pat the surface of the dough with the pads of your fingertips. “No squeezing.”

The two of you watch his little fingers delve into the pliant mass of dough, leaving a mark of small craters. When they begin to slowly bounce back, you watch his face instead of the dough.

He releases a single cooed sigh of delight as he looks at you with a bright smile, which you heartily return.

How you love, you love, you love him.

You sprinkle the dough with flour and rest it in a basket for its turn to prove. After fetching a dough you’d left proving hours before, you carefully score it with one long slice for expansion, and several small strokes for a quaint wheat kernel design on the other side.

“Mama.” Gabriel pats your sternum and rests a couple fingers past his lips.

“You hungry?” you ask.

When he nods, you brush a hand down the slope of the back of his head and kiss his temple. You add as you set him to his feet, “Let me get this in the oven, then I’ll feed you.”

After setting the parchment-papered sourdough in its cast iron dutch oven and pouring a bain marie past the paper, you place the whole thing in the oven and set a timer. You glance at the oven window with a small smile, eager to see the crispy crust on your extra-sour boule. Since you first noticed its resemblance to Gabriel’s tummy, you’ve made a tradition of kissing the top of the boule, then indelicately turning Gabriel sideways in your arms and blowing a raspberry on his bare belly, making him cackle hysterically. These days, he’s even begun giggling when you turn him in your arms and before you ever kiss his belly, already tickled by the anticipation alone.

With Gabriel in tow, you walk to the couch in the living room. Gabriel rests both arms over the seat cushion and tries to lift one leg up over the edge, but you reach your hands under his arms and pull him into your lap.

Just before you unhook your bra from its strap to nurse, the two of you hear the back door open.

Gabriel’s eyes widen, and a grin begins to pull on the corners of his mouth. “Da,” he says.

He wiggles down off the couch, and as he toddles down the hall, you listen to his bare little feet patting quietly along the hardwood floor. You smile to yourself at the precious sound, so deeply dear to you.

As you hear Arthur’s rustling, jingling presence in the doorway and the naturally firm, heavy footfalls of his work boots, you imagine him resting his black hat on the wall as his small son comes around the corner in only his diaper, bared rounded belly and all.

When you hear the playful growl and the resultant squeal and cackle, your grin splits wider.

“You’re in your nethers, baby boah!”

You can detect the pinch of a smile in Arthur’s voice and the breath of laughter with the last couple words.

More little pads of bare feet as Gabriel comes running back around the corner and down the hall. He hesitates as he toddles, turning back to ensure Arthur’s tailing, eager to play this game with his father.

Still, when Arthur leans around the corner and pulls an exaggeratedly silly face with an outright grunt, Gabriel’s little body gives a tiny jump. His squeal and adorable laughter ring out into the air. He clumsily darts into the kitchen.

When his father follows with a few long strides and the sturdy clops of his boots, he brings with him the musty scents of alfalfa hay and tanned rawhide, of trail dust and undiluted sunshine. And the two subsequently begin an elaborate game of peek-a-boo, back and forth around the island. You can’t help but laugh along at the purest sound of undiluted joy—the beauty and innocence of your own child so easily tickled and contented by life and love—as you turn on the couch and watch the pair. No matter how many times Arthur jumps out to stop him with a silly face and a low hoot or growl, Gabriel instantly screams and squeals, his body utterly racked with tightly coiled cackles.

Arthur wheezes and snickers every time.

“Oh my God, listen to him!” you laugh.

It’s always another several seconds before Gabriel totally recovers and manages to catch his breath, his laughter smoothing with each heave of air.

With the next turn of their game, Arthur lingers behind the island when Gabriel rounds it, not jumping out even when his son takes reticent steps forward, looking for him. Arthur continues to linger, even quietly backing up to hide himself, watching his son for the right moment to strike.

Finally Arthur leaps out, and Gabriel jumps with the highest squeal and loudest cackles you’ve heard yet.

You and Arthur both burst with your own laughter at his reaction.

When your son’s breathing finally evens, you call, “Gabriel, I thought you were hungry?”

“Oh, were you about to eat, son?” Arthur asks in his deep timbre. “You hungry?”

Gabriel nods and pats a hand to his belly above the rim of his diaper.

“Well, better go see Mama,” Arthur quietly grunts as he picks his son up by the underarms and sets him on his hip out of habit. Arthur lifts him over the couch back and sets him down into your lap, then remains behind the couch himself, watching over your shoulder.

After cushioning your back and adjusting him in your arms, you reach beneath your tee, unhook the front of your bra, and gently bring Gabriel to your breast to nurse. He latches on immediately, very well accustomed to your routine. A certain profound peace washes over you as you watch him. His lips flange around you as he suckles; his quiet breaths through his nose briefly pause each time he swallows; and his plump little arm rests wistfully over your chest.

Many people may look away, abashed and discomfited, unable to fit something at once both so innocent and intimate into their world. But it’s always made perfect sense to you. And maybe motherhood was a dream too quaint, one not rebellious or modern enough, seemingly not daring or adventurous enough. But it was your dream.

When Gabriel spots Arthur’s face over your shoulder, he pulls away from your breast with a growingly wry grin, clearly expecting to continue the game from moments ago. Droplets of your milk spill between you and his mouth as he voices a syllable and lifts his arm, attempting to goad Arthur into another silly face.

Arthur silently complies with cross-eyes and a sideways tongue.

Gabriel promptly giggles, and the two of you smile and chuckle at the sound.

“Don’t while he’s nursing, he’ll choke,” you lightly say.

After softly cooing and corralling Gabriel back to his feeding, you continue watching him with a contented smile. You brush your hand down over the back of his head, into the growing downy hair that curls funnily at the base of his neck. As he closes his eyes, you brush the backs of your curled fingers down over his temple, and gently trail your fingertips across the velvet flower-petal skin of his plump baby cheek.

You hear the long, relaxed sound of Arthur’s husky breath over your shoulder, a sound you know very well, especially these days.

“What a life, huh?” he quietly says.

He means to facetiously point out Gabriel’s current lot—nursing at his mother’s breast with his father at the ready to make him smile and laugh. That is, a life full of love and joy, well taken care of, and absent of a care in the world. Just as he should be for now.

It doesn’t take you a few moments, and you’re turning to look into Arthur’s cerulean-sage eyes. A knowingness resides in your gaze. Because you yourself, as well as your husband, have been given all you’d so deeply and totally longed for—and longed, a word too weak—more than you could’ve ever imagined you’d actually live to get.

“Yeah,” you quietly, pensively respond. “What a life.”

The love of your life holds your gaze, and understands.

Your love and gratefulness are immeasurable and uncontainable, filling you and stretching past the bounds of your body and being, like fragmented granules of glittering dust floating from a burst star.

Strangely enough, even with all the joy and contentment and peace, the words and the shared gaze are not without a mingling of loss and ache.

They are not gone entirely. But you both have someone now, to join you in weathering them.

You are not alone.

Arthur leans to you, and you share a few kisses, soft as breath. You turn and close your eyes a moment as he rests his forehead to your temple. And you both gaze down at your son with contented smiles.

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