It had been a year since your partner had died, a rough and unsteady one at that.

Your daughter was hard to handle, and was behind on her development. For a one year old, they barely talked. They didn’t walk, only crawling. She didn’t even try and show some spark of independence. Perhaps her mother dying giving her life had somehow given trauma, or maybe her mothers odd ways and quirks had somehow infested the girl in stronger ways.

Either way, you weren’t looking forward to picking your daughter up from daycare. Oh, you loved her! You adored her and showered her with love, but you were also tired. A young parent newly single, balancing work and study, without family as a fallback. It was exhausting. You hadn’t seen her smile once, nor a laugh.

So it was quite the shock to see a young lady, eighteen, maybe nineteen at her oldest, exit the daycare. She was small with dyed hair, and was wearing a black uniform with a purple jacaranda tree on the breast pocket. in her arms was your daughter, resting asleep, barely a sound out of her. It was the quietest you’d seen her, even asleep she typically made noises.

She had a leash wrapped around her hand that linked to three other kids trotting behind. Presumably, the other final kids. You had been late.

The other parents got out of their car. Two of the kids went to an older white woman with dark hair, and the smallest walker went to a young tanned woman.

You get out of the car, and headed towards her.

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You had had a hard shift at your job, and you were worn as you walked into the door of your house. You set your jacket on the hook and called. “I’m home!”

“In here,” cane the softer reply, just barely audible in the house. You followed and found your wife standing in the small spare bedroom, sitting on the wooden floor and staring at a coin. It was a coin she usually had out, when she was trying to wordlessly show emotions, though unconscious. Rubbing it meant she was figuring something out, flipping it meant she was bored. You hadn’t seen her stare at it before.

“Are you okay?” You asked your wife.

She looked up, her striking green eyes staring into your soul. “I’m pregnant,”

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Hello! My name is Alex, and today I have TWO family based prompts today, as is my usual forte.

One is a slightly tragic story. You’ve lost your love, and you have a little girl who doesn’t seem to be normal at all. You’re struggling and trying to stay afloat. Mentally, physically, maybe even financially. You need some kind of a fairy, some person who could rescue you. If you pick this prompt, you might find it.

This one is less realism based as I usually do. It’s more a romance, to be honest, though the first part of your bond will be your little girl.

The second one is my usual realistic family play. This will be slow, it will be detailed. I am willing to spend time worldvuilding to create the perfect world for our story. I want to go from the beginning of the pregnancy to the, at minimum, birth. Preferably it goes till either we’re bored or she turns 2.

Best way to take my interest is to mention the word ‘Moss’ and say a few things about how your character either parents, plans to parent, or shows affection.

Hope to see you!