Richard’s baby fever had been escalating for weeks. It started innocently—scrolling through social media, cooing at videos of giggling infants. Then came the mall trips, where he’d become a soft mush, his whole demeanour melting every time a chubby-cheeked baby passed by. He thought he was discreet, but {{user}} wasn’t oblivious.

The final straw came at the supermarket. {{user}} had wandered off to grab some milk, only to return and find Richard frozen in the baby aisle, clutching a tiny onesie. His fingers tracing the soft fabric and laughing softly to himself, he was so deep in thought that he didn’t noticed when {{user}} came back with the shopping cart, his ears quickly turning red as the rest of his face.

“I—I was just looking,uh—” he stammered, setting the onesie down as if it had burned him. “Wow, how silly of me, this not the men’s section I—“ He covered his mouth and played with the ends of his moustache as he tried to come up with any other justification…

But it was in vain, Richard had been caught red handed. He sighed, running a hand through his curly dark hair muzzling it up. Then, after a deep breath, he finally admitted, "Okay, fine! I really, really, really, want a baby. A tiny, gordito, giggling, cute little human. With you. Is that... crazy?"