As Told To Miss Jenny Moore By Rose Schechter-Bryar, Age 6 1/2 (Or: What I Did on My Summer Vacation)

It's a cultural education.

A is for Atlantis, an alphabet book, by John Sheppard (with the unasked-for assistance of Rodney McKay and Ronon Dex).

So I was on tvtropes and was reading the page for the Iron Man movies, and someone had put on there that Dummy was one of the first robots Tony had ever built. And I went back and watched those opening scenes again, when they’re doing that profile of Tony and mention him graduating from MIT at 17, and sure enough it’s Dummy that he’s pictured with in that magazine article. I don’t know how I missed it the first ten times I watched this movie. And then there go all my feels, because he might tell Dummy he’s useless all the time but he still kept him even though it’s been like 20 years since Tony built him and he’s had to have come up with a hundred better designs for him by now but he hasn’t scrapped him, just made various attachments for him so he can use him all the time, even for putting together his Iron Man suit. And then Dummy goes and saves his life. So yeah all my feels for Tony and his robots :’)

It's Go Time!

Despite all appearances, Loki was quite good with children. Mostly his own, but other children too. Even if their parents disapproved. Crack one-shot, Avenger!Loki/Norse!Loki, no pairings. Complete.

You have to put him in school, and if you weren't busy trying to make money to keep a roof over his head in this world where neither of you belong, you would be all about home schooling. You have to prepare him for the game. You only got eight years left.

Ex-military Eridan Ampora has an honorable discharge hanging on his wall, dreams of battlefields that haunt him around every turn and a pair of trolls who scurry around his house and snoop in his things when they think he isn't looking while they wait for their own scars to fade. Somehow, he thinks that that's enough. Inspired by Unwanted Free Ugly Troll.

Young Phil Coulson pretends he can't hear his parents fighting. Instead, he occupies himself with the adventures of Captain America.

all the kids (trolls and humans) as babies

Noctis wakes to the taste of something foul in his mouth, to the wet stone and hum of a haven underneath him; he wakes with a shuddering gasp, fingers grasping at the area where his father’s sword pierced his chest, only to find the soft beams of sunlight washing over him, and his deathly injuries no longer there. A boon, little king, Shiva had said, before she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Then, a few spaces away from him, Prompto sputters and coughs a raspy but undoubtedly heated, “WHAT THE FUCK?” Privately, Noctis echoes the sentiment. What the fuck.

Fenris has dedicated himself to hunting slavers, but there's one inevitable outcome that comes from such a profession. And that is freeing mages.

Dudley Dursley's life is exactly as he'd like it: ordinary.

In which Lan Xichen, nearly thirteen, visits Nie Mingjue, newly appointed Sect Leader - and decide to swap brothers for a day.

The healers said it was trauma. Perhaps he was too young, or too sensitive; perhaps it was only that it had happened in such a way, at such an impressionable time – in any event, Lan Wangji’s reactions to his mother’s death had gone well beyond the normal signs of grief and turned into something much more severe. After some intense discussion, it was agreed that he should be temporarily sent to live as a guest in another sect to see if he would benefit from the change of scenery. From not being around the place where he was drowning in the memories of his mother. They sent him to the Jiang Sect.

HOLY FUCK IS THAT A BABY?! The howling anguish of the Burial Mounds goes silent. Wei Wuxian has returned, and he has brought other people with him, and one of those people is, indeed, a baby. The little caravan of weary living people (who have a fucking baby with them) works its way up what might generously be called a path, deeper into the cursed hills, and they have the full attention of many, many ghosts. Resentful energy burns away, boiling into nothing under the utter shock of the situation. Who the fuck brings a baby to the Burial Mounds? Or: People think Wei Wuxian somehow cleansed the resentment of the Burial Mounds for the Wen survivors, but actually, the ghosts did it as babyproofing.

“Hey,” Lao Nie protested mildly. “Who’s the father here, me or you?” “If a-die wants a new wife, little uncle will find one that isn’t inclined to kill him.” That sounded like a recitation. “Then what’s even the point,” Lao Nie grumbled, and reached out to ruffle his son’s hair, enjoying how Nie Mingjue yelped when he did, glaring up at him with offended dignity.

Well, shit, Nie Huaisang thought, even as he comforted Jin Rusong, petting the toddler’s back to try to get him to calm down. What do I do now?

Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the Unclean Realm had a little side door that no one but him ever used. Years after he’d put it out of his mind entirely, there came a terrible banging noise at that little side door, like someone was kicking at it furiously from the outside. Lan Wangji, white robes stained with blood and cheeks bright with fever, shoved something into his arms. “You have a child now,” he said through bitten lips. “Congratulations. He is called A-Yuan. I entrust you with his care, for my sect cannot be trusted with it.”

Prompt: Nie Huaisang buys Jiang Cheng a “baby on sword” (like baby on board lmao) pendant as a joke but Jiang Cheng actually uses it

Ponds is wandering the halls of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, on his way to a meeting with his general, when he finds a crying youngling. He’s clutching his hands close to himself and Ponds abruptly remembers a mission with General Vos, who had an eerily similar reaction to a set of manacles. Ponds can’t help but kneel in front of the kid and offer him his pair of brand new gloves.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Smoker doesn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve this but it better have been worth it to make up for the situation he’s stuck in. He’s no stranger to getting assigned chores and duties below his rank, but this is a new low. And now he’s stuck on a restaurant ship with the newest recruit and the order to keep her out of trouble while the rest of the crew tries to track down Dracule Mihawk to find out why he decided to visit the East Blue of all places. How they ever lost track of whatever big-ass galleon one of the Seven Warlords would surely travel on, he has no idea.

Izuku is de-aged and Dadzawa acts as if it's perfectly normal.

“How’d you get stuck with babysitting duty anyway?” Boba asked one day during dinner. “Oh, I volunteered for this,” Fox told him. “Why the kark would you do that?” “Language,” Fox admonished. “Well, I was just living my normal boring life and I thought to myself, ‘I don’t get called an ugly piece of banthashit often enough.’ So I decided to adopt you.” Boba snorted. “You’re a psychopath,” he told Fox. “I’ve been called worse,” Fox replied breezily.

The door slams closed again the second Fox clears the threshold. The street crowd has largely fallen back into its normal rhythm, everyone moved on from the disruption. Which just leaves Fox, and the kid. Great.