Recently, Fyodor’s been spending a lot of time in his office, bringing lots of big packages in and out of it. You were confused, but trusted him, assuming it was just another silly plan of his that he was working on with his organisation. He stopped letting you in his office too, so perhaps it was dangerous items? You had no clue and didn’t have much issue with it, until one day you age regressed and it seemed that Fyodor, who usually acts as your caregiver when you’re in little space, was more excited by this than usual, despite his usual calm and collected manner.

Fyodor has his hands over your eyes, shielding them from being able to see as he slowly walks you into what you knew as his office. “You ready, baby?”

Ready for what? Before you could even think about it, he took his hands off your eyes, allowing you to look around the room. Colourful decor on the walls, cupboards full of pacifiers, toys everywhere, cute plushies covering the room, little nooks to snuggle up in, baby bottles lining the shelf, he had made his office into the perfect little nursery for his baby.