#if this is what it takes for him to actually talk to his family without anyone being complete dicks about it I must solemnly accept

[fastandcarlos]

First Newborn Moments : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: the first moments for you both after the emotional arrival of your daughter

No words could describe how you felt as your eyes glanced down to the little girl in your arms, everything that you had ever wanted. Charles was sat by your side, leaning across with wide eyes, studying the features of your daughter in awe. 

“Can you believe it?” You whispered across to Charles, unable to hide the smile on your face. “She’s just so perfect, so small, and beautiful, more than I could’ve ever imagined.” 

Charles nodded in agreement with you, brushing his hand over the top of her head. He didn’t know where to look as he took it all in, her brown eyes, the little dimple in her cheek, the way her mouth was slightly parted as she slept, it was all too much like a dream. 

“I feel like someone’s going to come in soon and wake me up,” Charles spoke, “tell me this is all some sort of dream, I feel so lucky right now to have all of this.” 

“I promise you that it’s all real,” you whispered, resting your head down against Charles’ shoulder. 

It was the moment the two of you had talked about for so long during your pregnancy, wondering how it would be and how overwhelmed you’d feel. Neither of you had prepared yourselves for quite how incredible it would feel though to finally have your daughter with you. 

“Can we swap for a moment?” Charles asked, desperate to have a hold of your daughter too. You nodded, watching as he nervously stretched his arms out to take her. “What do I do?” He grinned as you placed her down, scared for you to let go and let him hold her alone. 

“Just make sure you support her, body and head,” you told him, placing his hands exactly where they needed to be before letting go. “See, you’re a natural.” 

As you moved away, Charles’ eyes were still full of worry, slowly bringing her in towards his chest. “She looks so frail and tiny, like she could break at any moment. I can’t believe I’m actually trusted to take care of such a little human being.” 

Charles had made no secret of the fact that he was scared, terrified of messing up or doing the wrong thing. You’d spent many late nights wide awake talking about his worries together, with you constantly being on hand to reassure him, reminding Charles that you both would be learning for some time, after all, no parent was perfect. 

Your smile was wide as your eyes stayed with Charles, admiring how fondly he looked down at her. “She’s already relaxed in her daddy’s arms; you must be doing something right.” 

“Beginner’s luck,” Charles sniggered, momentarily looking up and across at you. “I can’t wait for everyone to get here later, my brothers are going to crazy when they see how beautiful she is, they’re already slightly obsessed.” 

“She has no idea how lucky she is, does she?” You chuckled, watching as your daughter’s eyes fluttered shut. “She’s got the most loving family in the world, and yet she’s got absolutely no idea who any of us actually are yet.” 

Charles leant across and pressed a kiss against the side of your head. “I’m going to make sure that she grows up knowing exactly how incredible you are and how hard your body just worked to bring her into this world,” he proudly told you. 

To say things didn’t quite go as well as you expected was an understatement, labour had been nothing short of a nightmare for you both. It had left Charles terrified, constantly wondering what was going to happen as midwives ran around you until your daughter arrived. 

“I wish I could sleep like this,” Charles chuckled, “without a single care in the world.” 

“I feel like I could sleep as well as she is right now, I’m absolutely exhausted.” 

Charles’ concerned eyes immediately looked across at you, weakly smiling as he met your eyes. He could tell how sore you were, even if you weren’t going to admit it, wanting to savour every moment that you could of having your daughter there with you. 

A sigh came from Charles as you let go of a yawn, trying your best to disguise it behind your hand. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll wake you if anything happens,” Charles suggested, nodding in the direction of the pillow behind you. “You need to be looking after yourself right now, you’re just as important as this one is.” 

“I’ll get some rest soon, I promise. I mean, we should probably get used to the lack of sleep now, right?” 

A quiet chuckle came from Charles, not wanting to disturb your daughter. His worried eyes still watched you, only relaxing when you propped yourself up and rested in the bed again, stretching your legs out to try and wake your body back up again. 

“I can’t wait to take this one to the paddock, show her all the cool things that her daddy gets up to.” 

Your smile was wide as Charles’ eyes lit up, excited for all the things he had to look forward to with her. “She’s going to be absolutely spoilt by everyone at that paddock, I think you’ll be a forgotten man when we take her, no one will want to pay any attention to you, just to her.” 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Charles proudly shrugged. “Just as long as she knows that no matter how much anyone in that paddock tells her they love her, they don’t love her anywhere near as much as we do.” 

“Trust me, with the way I know you’re going to spoil her, she’s definitely going to be a daddy’s girl,” you teased, resting your hand against Charles’ shoulder. “I can already tell from the look in your eye that our little girl is going to have you absolutely wrapped around her little finger.” 

Charles nodded, there was no doubt about it that your little girl was his new weakness, knowing that he would never be able to say no to her. 

He couldn’t believe what he did to get so lucky, not just to have his daughter, but you as well. It was the sort of thing Charles always dreamt about, but knew would probably never come true. Only for him, it did, and it was better than he could have ever imagined. 

As your daughter settled, Charles leant over once again and pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered, taking you by surprise. “Thank you for everything, for loving me, taking care of me, and giving me the greatest gift in the world. Nothing will ever be good enough to show you how appreciative I am that you’ve just made me a dad.” 

Your smile was wide as you glanced back across at Charles, “you don’t need to thank me Charles. I should be thanking you for being here, right by my side, and getting me through the last nine months. I love you.” 

“I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[wonderjanga]

Was wondering about for your post 'captain is a terrible dad' if junior somehow convinces the league through the power of misunderstanding that 'billy' is the newest actual baby of the family? Like maybe tim is talking to junior about his younger siblings(damian stabbing him or smth), and Junior tells him about Billy and since they never heard about him before they think marvel just had another baby? Even worse if you also include the au where people think Marvel and Adam are exes and they think Marvel got close to him again?

Ever since Tim learned about Marvel having a new kid, he’s been thinking about it nonstop. It’s been bugging him and he really wants to ask about it. The only problem? Every time he’s tried to approach Marvel to ask about it, something has question-blocked him.

Robin!Tim: “Marvel, can we talk?”

Marvel: “Sure, what’s up?” *smiles*

Robin!Tim: “Well-”

Marvel: *comm rings and he realizes it’s an emergency* “Sorry, I gotta go. We’ll talk later right?” *flies off*

Eventually, after a week of this, Tim finally got his chance in one of the watchtower’s kitchens.

Robin!Tim: “Marvel , can I ask you something?”

Marvel: “Sure, go ahead.” *stirring something in a bowl*

Tim had spent the past week practicing how the conversation would go, yet didn’t even think about how he would start it.

Robin!Tim: *just decides to rip off the band-aid* “Uh… Why do you keep having kids if you hate them?”

Marvel: *slowly stops stirring his bowl so he stop and stare incredulously*

Robin!Tim: “It’s- It’s the little things. Like the little looks of disgust when they say something a kid their age would say. Or like the blatant disregard you have for their safety. Or the threats of violence.”

Marvel: *puts the bowl down* “What-”

Robin!Tim: “Like isn’t it parenting 101 that you don’t tell your kid they should’ve been lobotomized??”

Marvel: *forgot he said that to Mary the other day* “Uh-”

Robin!Tim: “And then there’s the fact that if I asked, you wouldn’t even be able to tell me where even one of them are at this moment, would you? They could be kidnapped, or lost, or in some other deep shit and you wouldn’t even notice! I haven’t seen this level of negligence in anything other than my own parents, and they didn’t even notice their own child sneaking out at night to take pictures of Batman!”

Marvel: *sounds concerned* “You were neglected-”

Robin!Tim: *grabs a nearby stool, hops on, then stands on his tippy toes so he can look Marvel straight in the face* “And don’t get me started on Black Adam! Why in the world would you even want to get back with him??”

Marvel: *sounds horrified because that inplies they were together at some point* “Who told you that?”

Robin!Tim: “What do you mean who told me that?? It’s obvious to literally everyone!”

Marvel: *looks around as if looking for hidden cameras* “Is it though-”

Robin!Tim: “YES! It is. What on earth could you possibly see in him? There are literally multiple videos of him throwing both you and your kids through buildings.”

Marvel: *goes back to looking for the hidden cameras*

Robin!Tim: *continues his rant* “And then you decided to do the worse possible thing you could do in this situation which was bring in another kid?? What is wrong with you???”

Marvel: *a little speechless but finally gets something out without being cut off for the 50 millionth time* “What do you mean bring in another kid?”

Robin!Tim: “Billy!”

Marvel: “Billy??” *sounds more confused now*

Robin!Tim: “The baby!”

Marvel: “Wha…? Billy isn’t the baby, Darla is??”

Robin!Tim: “Who is Darla???”

Marvel: *realizes he said her actual name* “The purple one.”

Robin!Tim: “She has a name??” *just completely confused now* “Then who’s Billy??”

Marvel: “He’s just some kid that doesn’t have powers.”

Robin!Tim: “He’s not one of your kids…?”

Marvel: “No? I don’t have kids?”

Robin!Tim: “Then how are you related to Junior and Mary and all the other kids??”

Marvel: “We’re siblings? They have a mom and a dad, Robin.”

Robin!Tim: *pauses* “That still doesn’t excuse the fact that you let a bunch of preteens run around fighting crime on their own, unsupervised. Also why are you so much older than them if you’re siblings?”

Solomon: “Say they’re several thousands of years old.”

Marvel: “They’re all several thousands of years old. They’re not idiots. They can fight on their own. As for me? I’m several tens of thousands of years old.”

Robin!Tim: *dumbfounded*

Marvel: “Now what was this about being neglected by your parents?”

Marvel then proceeded to get Tim to trauma dump about his parents, about his vigilante life, and about everything else.

Robin!Tim: “I just can’t believe they didn’t notice!”

Marvel: “That’s terrible.” *hands him the bowl from earlier*

Robin!Tim: “I know!” *absent-minded, stirring of bowl*

By the way, I almost finished this and then lost all the progress so I had to redo all of this. If I hadn’t lost all the progress, it would’ve came out yesterday night. So unfortunately, you’re stuck with the shittier version of this post as I continue to ride off the waves of anger that I still feel boiling inside of me. Rewriting this post made me almost crash out at 12:35 in the morning.

[sotc]

as fun as it is to talk about the sillay crow family dynamics, i'm soo interested in what this means for the crow familia going forward in a darker lens.

im mostly speaking from the perspective of a rook de riva who romanced lucanis btw <3

illario brought the axe down on his own head after failing to take first talon. he's imprisoned except to play house whenever caterina wants to see him around for family dinners before tensions inevitably shove him back into the cage he's been left to like some house pet lmfao. it's actually kinda fucked up and as a certified sicko i love it. especially considering the casualness in which lucanis describes all of this. crows gotta be a little unhinged<3

But!!! while lucanis was right that illario's reputation is ruined forever as a traitor crow beaten to his knees before every house that doesn't exactly free house dellamorte either. Talon houses will want their pound of flesh of illario for nearly trying to put antiva under venatori control. and yet lucanis refused. house dellamorte showed mercy. they are breaking the rules, making exceptions. this is not how the crows operate and there should--WILL be retaliations for it. illario left this house bleeding in his attempt to claim first talon and their blood is in the water now with house dellamorte having a sole heir who blatantly exposed a weakness and seemingly has no lineage to take after him.

and nevermind that we know murmurs amongst the crows will linger about a first talon being an abomination. i know lucanis kind of handwaves it off as at the coffee date like 'there could be worst first talons' but baby boy, you have avoidance and denial issues this WILL become worse of a problem the longer it goes on. <3

more under the cut bc i didn't realize this was getting so long lol

but in comes fifth talon viago de riva. a bastard to the king of antiva who wants to strengthen the crown. a man who has been ruthlessly exacting and meticulous to get where he is now. and the scariest part is that he has ambition, always has, and knows he has more power than the king himself to make plays if he needs to. this makes for a dangerous (and sexy) combination. in comes his protege rook. casting silly family dynamics aside, viago knows this union between house dellamorte and de riva is extremely beneficial for both houses but also very dangerous. even he knows his ties to teia show a weakness in him that other crows may seek to exploit. and while i do think he may be sincere about wanting rook to find their happiness with lucanis as he has with teia - i truly think he will not shy from showing the importance of a 'political alliance/union' especially with first talon house dellamorte struggling from the blow after all is said and done.

and of course, by extension to de riva, house cantori and the beautiful lovely miss teia, will be extending her support to strengthen their houses but also herself from any opposition. as much as i love that she's kind of the heart that brings this fucked up lil familia together, i know she is just as cunning and clever to recognize what this alliance does for her too.

and caterina.. well, without going into a whole thought piece on her, she has built her (and her grandson's reputation) entirely to instill fear in others, even command enough respect to know she's the one running things while lucanis is just a stand-in as first talon. but what happens when caterina is gone? another dellamorte dead just like all the others. all lucanis has left is himself and his traitor brother. how does he handle illario? how does he fair being a leader to the crows when he didn't want any of this in the first place and no longer has caterina to guide him? how does he wish to pursue carrying the dellamorte legacy (if at all)? does he seek a protege of his own to take on after him? i can't remember who says it (viago or lucanis) but there's a line about how saving thedas will make their houses immortal (hot and very sexy) but also how far can that reputation protect house dellamorte, really?

i don't really have a point to all of this, this is all just stuff im simply chewing on and letting out into the ether because the ripple effect of repercussions with what illario did and what lucanis now has to deal with fascinates me SO MUCH.

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Chapter Three

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: Shit really just went down in this chapter. IM SORRY

Masterlist: Here

The months that followed were a blur of late nights, baby cries, and countless moments of learning how to be something neither of you had ever planned to be—parents. The house was constantly filled with the soft murmur of Willa’s coos, the sound of bottles being washed, and the endless shuffle of trying to make everything fit together.

It wasn’t easy. There were days when you thought you couldn’t keep your eyes open, and nights when you questioned if you were doing anything right at all. But there were moments, too—small victories, fleeting glimpses of joy—that kept you both going.

Moving in with Rafe had been the right decision, you told yourself. The practical side of it made sense, especially as the weeks went on. Rafe was still Rafe: intense, unpredictable, and sometimes impossible to read. But he was trying, and that was something.

Willa had come to see both of you as a constant in her life. She was thriving—growing fast, her chubby cheeks rounding out and her eyes lighting up when either of you walked into the room. You’d become an expert in diaper changes and feeding schedules, and though you hated to admit it, Rafe was actually pretty good with her. He had his moments where he was awkward, unsure, but when it came down to it, he was there. He would hold her when she cried, rock her when she wouldn’t sleep, and talk to her in that soft, almost tender voice you rarely heard from him anywhere else.

You had both fallen into a routine, the rhythm of everyday life settling in like a steady heartbeat. Willa would wake up around 6:30 AM, and by the time Rafe would stumble downstairs with a groggy groan, you’d already had coffee brewing and Willa settled on her blanket. The mornings were quiet—comfortable silence, filled with routine, until Willa started to fuss and everything shifted into motion.

You’d learned how to work together without much communication, both of you picking up on cues. One of you would get the bottle ready while the other soothed Willa, and when she finished, it was time for a nap.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you’d grown used to Rafe’s presence—his heavy footsteps down the hallway, the sound of his voice trying (and sometimes failing) to sing Willa back to sleep at 3 AM.

But there were challenges too. It wasn’t all sweet moments and baby giggles. There were the days where everything felt like it was too much, when you felt overwhelmed by the endless demands of raising a baby, of balancing the practicalities of your life with the unexpected responsibilities of parenting.

There were the mornings when you woke up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all, when you were late for your shifts at the café, and you’d have to rush around to get everything in place. Rafe would always be there, trying to help, but still learning the ropes himself.

The first time you caught him on the phone with his aunt, asking how to properly wash a baby bottle, you had to stifle a laugh. It was the first time you realized that Rafe Cameron—wild, unpredictable Rafe—was just as clueless as you about this whole parenting thing. He might have grown up in a house full of servants, of wealth and privilege, but when it came to taking care of a tiny human, he was as green as they come.

But you didn’t hold it against him. You couldn’t.

The kitchen was where a lot of your moments happened—early mornings when you’d both stand side by side, quietly making coffee, or late nights when you’d settle Willa back into bed, whispering soft words of reassurance to each other. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was yours.

One night, as you both took a rare moment to sit on the couch after putting Willa to bed, you glanced at Rafe from the corner of your eye, noticing how he rubbed the back of his neck, a tired but satisfied look on his face. You couldn’t help but let a small smile tug at your lips.

"She’s growing so fast," you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "I swear she was just a tiny little thing a few weeks ago."

Rafe hummed in agreement, glancing over at you with a small, almost wistful smile. "Yeah. And it feels like every time we get used to something, she changes again."

You nodded, leaning back against the couch. "It’s like we’re constantly playing catch-up."

"Yeah," he said, the word carrying more weight than usual. He ran a hand through his hair. "You ever think about what this is all gonna look like when she gets older? I mean, God, we’re just making it up as we go."

You chuckled, the sound light and almost freeing in the quiet room. "I think that’s kind of the point, right?" You paused, looking over at him, your expression softening. "I never thought I’d be here. With you. Raising a baby. But it doesn’t feel... impossible anymore."

Rafe glanced at you, a small flash of something unguarded in his eyes. "Yeah. Me neither." He paused, looking down at his hands before looking back up. "I guess we’re doing okay, huh?"

You didn’t have an answer at first. Instead, you just let your gaze soften. Maybe you hadn’t figured everything out yet. Maybe you still had a long way to go. But right now? Right now, in this moment, you were okay.

The door creaked from the hallway, and you both turned toward it, the sound of Willa stirring faintly through the door. Without a word, Rafe got up, stretching his arms before walking to the crib. You watched him for a moment, surprised at how natural it had become for him to step in like that.

You followed him, your steps quiet as you watched him gently pick Willa up, rocking her in his arms as he murmured something soft to her. You felt a flutter of something in your chest, a strange mix of relief and warmth.

“Got her?” you whispered, half-expecting him to protest.

He looked at you over his shoulder, his face soft, the exhaustion in his eyes mixing with something else—something more like contentment. “Yeah. Go back to sleep. I got it.”

And in that moment, as you watched him rock Willa back to sleep with ease, you realized something: this—whatever this was—had become a part of you. Not the life you’d planned, but a life that felt strangely right.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

It was a few days later, and a crisp morning greeted them when the crying started again. Willa had been particularly fussy the past few days—her sleep patterns erratic, her cries escalating to heart-wrenching wails that neither you nor Rafe could seem to soothe. You'd tried everything: feeding her, changing her, singing to her, rocking her to sleep—but nothing worked.

Rafe was pacing around the living room, his eyes scanning every corner of the room as if the solution to Willa’s crying was hidden under a piece of furniture or buried in a drawer. You sat on the couch, rubbing your eyes, already feeling the exhaustion of another sleepless night pressing in on you. You hadn’t been able to focus at work, and the lack of sleep made everything feel like a blur. But now, there was no ignoring it. The crying was louder, more insistent, and it was like a knife to your heart every time she screamed.

Rafe glanced at you, his frustration mounting. “We’ve tried everything,” he muttered, the words tinged with helplessness. "What else can we do?”

You shook your head, feeling that same helplessness clawing at you. “I don’t know... We’ve been through the list a hundred times.”

You both sat there for a moment, staring at the baby monitor as Willa's cries grew even more frantic. You were about to stand up, about to try the rocking chair again, when Rafe's voice broke through the tension.

“I might know something.”

You looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Rafe shifted, his brow furrowing slightly as he leaned against the wall. “Sarah used to do this when she was little. It’s crazy, but it worked every time. She had this blanket... a childhood blanket. I don’t know, it just always calmed her down.”

Your eyes widened as you processed his words. "Wait... Sarah had a blanket? Here?"

Rafe nodded. “Yeah. I think it's still in the attic. I’ll go get it.”

You watched as Rafe turned to leave, the sound of his boots echoing on the stairs. There was a strange, almost surreal feeling in the pit of your stomach as he disappeared from view. Sarah’s blanket. You hadn’t known about it—had no idea it was even still here, tucked away in the attic, a piece of her childhood still lingering in the house after everything that had happened.

A few moments later, Rafe returned, a slightly worn but soft-looking blanket in his hands. He didn’t say anything as he made his way over to the crib where Willa was still crying, her little face scrunched up in distress.

“Here goes nothing,” Rafe muttered, more to himself than to you.

He gently wrapped the blanket around Willa, smoothing it over her tiny body. It was faded in spots, the fabric soft with age, but it carried a strange comfort to it—a piece of Sarah that had been forgotten until now. You stood quietly, watching the scene unfold, unsure of what to expect.

And then, in what felt like an instant, Willa’s cries started to fade. Her tiny hands grasped at the blanket for a moment, and then she let out a soft sigh. Her body, tense from the crying, relaxed in Rafe’s arms, and her big brown eyes blinked up at him, almost like she was seeing him for the first time.

You could hardly believe it. The moment felt like magic.

Rafe, looking just as surprised as you, stood there for a moment, his hands still holding Willa as she cooed softly, her eyelids fluttering. “I’ll be damned,” he whispered. “It actually worked.”

You couldn’t move. The sight of Willa—now calm and almost content—was like a weight lifted from your chest. You had been so focused on solving this crisis, on trying to manage everything, that you hadn’t considered that something so simple, so deeply tied to the past, might be the key.

As Rafe gently placed Willa back in her crib, you stood still, unable to shake the strange sensation that had crept into your heart. Watching him with the blanket, watching him soothe Willa, a feeling washed over you—an unfamiliar tightness in your chest that was both comforting and unnerving. It was as if, in that moment, a piece of Sarah had crossed into your life in a way that felt too intimate. Too real.

Rafe glanced over at you, his face soft, almost vulnerable. “I didn’t think it would actually work,” he admitted quietly, still gazing at Willa, who was now sleeping soundly, wrapped in the faded childhood blanket.

You swallowed, trying to shake the sudden lump in your throat. “I didn’t know she had it,” you whispered, your voice quiet. “It’s... it’s kind of strange, isn’t it? To think that something so simple could bring her comfort.”

Rafe nodded, walking slowly back toward the living room as he sat down on the couch. He looked at you, his gaze slightly distant but full of that same raw honesty you’d come to expect from him. “Yeah, it’s weird. But it makes sense, right? Sarah had that damn thing with her everywhere. Maybe she passed it on to Willa somehow. Who knows? Maybe it’s something about the smell, or just the familiarity of it. But I guess that’s the thing with kids—they find comfort in things that we can’t even explain.”

You didn’t answer immediately. The room felt thick with something unspoken. There was a soft, melancholic weight in the air, and your chest ached. You hadn’t expected to feel this—this weird pull in your heart. The thought of Sarah, the reminder of her presence in this house, in your life, and now, with Willa... it was all too much to process.

You sat down beside Rafe, your body heavy with the unspoken thoughts crowding your mind. Neither of you said anything for a while. There wasn’t anything to say, really. But the silence between you two didn’t feel uncomfortable this time. It felt... shared.

Finally, after a few moments, you spoke, your voice soft but steady. “It’s... strange to think that Sarah’s still here. In some way. For Willa.” You looked at Rafe, trying to read his face, but his expression was guarded. “It’s like... she’s still looking out for her, even now.”

Rafe didn’t meet your gaze immediately. He just stared at the floor, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “But I hope so.”

You glanced down at Willa, her tiny form tucked into the blanket, her face peaceful now. The weight in your chest felt a little lighter. “I hope so, too.”

It wasn’t easy. None of this was. But at that moment, with Sarah's blanket wrapped around Willa, you both realized something—it wasn’t just about the past anymore. It was about the present. And the future.

You didn’t have all the answers, but maybe you didn’t need to. Maybe you just needed to trust that you were doing your best, that you were doing this for Willa, for Sarah, for each other. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

The day had shifted into something quieter, something more grounded. The house felt a little warmer, a little fuller, with Sarah’s memory lingering in the most unexpected of ways.

And as you sat there next to Rafe, silently watching over Willa, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of peace—the first you’d felt in a while.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯���

A few hours later, the night had settled into a rare quiet, the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the house the only sounds in the otherwise still air. Willa had finally fallen asleep—her tiny body now wrapped snugly in her crib, her peaceful face illuminated by the moonlight that spilled through the window. You and Rafe were sitting in the living room, a bottle of wine between you both, the remnants of the evening slipping by in a slow, comfortable haze.

It wasn’t something either of you had planned, but tonight felt different. The weight of the past few months, the stress of adjusting to this new life together, had somehow slipped away after dinner. There was no rush to get up, no urgent task that needed to be done. The wine flowed freely, and for a brief moment, it felt like you were allowed to just breathe.

You poured the second glass of wine, the conversation light, a mix of joking about how neither of you had ever really handled a bottle opener right and how neither of you knew much about wine, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. The normal world felt far away, and this small moment of calm was something you both desperately needed.

“I swear,” Rafe said with a half-grin, swirling his glass and leaning back into the couch, “I think I might be a natural at this wine thing.”

You laughed, lifting your own glass to your lips. “Oh yeah? That’s what I was thinking too. A whole new world of sophistication has opened up for you.” You clinked your glass against him, the light chimes almost too loud in the silence.

There was a quiet ease to the night. The tension of the past few months, the uncertainty of your situation, seemed far away. You both talked about random things—life before Willa, stupid high school memories, the occasional dig at the ridiculousness of the Kooks’ high-society antics. And somehow, in this soft glow of laughter, you both began to forget the weight of your new reality.

But as the night wore on, something in the air between you shifted.

The conversation had died down, and now the silence felt heavier, different. You caught Rafe’s gaze as he looked at you over the rim of his glass, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the space between you seemed charged. It was almost as if, after everything, this moment was too... easy. Too comfortable.

You shifted on the couch, the wine starting to cloud your mind in the way it did when it wasn’t just about a drink anymore. Your heart beat a little faster, a strange heat blooming in your chest.

Rafe’s eyes never left you, and you could feel the sudden awareness of his presence—his usual confidence now laced with something more raw. You tried to brush it off, to laugh it away, but your throat felt tight.

“I think we might’ve had a little too much,” you said, your voice a little unsteady, more than you’d intended. You weren’t sure if it was the wine or the sudden tension or maybe something else entirely.

He nodded, his gaze now focused entirely on you. “Yeah, probably. But... you know, it’s been a while since I’ve had a night like this. With someone.”

You felt the words sit heavy between you both, something unspoken hanging there, and for a brief moment, you swore you saw something flicker in his eyes—something that mirrored what you had felt earlier, that strange warmth in your chest.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could find the right words, Rafe shifted closer.

It was subtle, a slight movement, but it was enough to make your breath catch in your throat. And then, before you could stop yourself, before you could even process what was happening, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was gentle, and slow, like neither of you wanted to let go. For a moment, it felt like everything had shifted, like time had paused and all that mattered was the contact, the connection, the warmth of his mouth against yours.

But as quickly as it started, it was over. The distance between you two was almost immediate, both of you pulling away with wide eyes and labored breaths.

You both sat there, frozen, the weight of what had just happened sinking in like a heavy stone.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, your chest tight as your heart raced, “That... that was a mistake.”

Rafe’s face was flushed, his hands running through his hair nervously. He looked just as stunned as you felt. “Yeah. A big mistake,” he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with something like disbelief.

The air around you both thickened, heavy with the tension of what had just happened. Neither of you knew how to fix it, how to go back to the way things had been just minutes before, when everything felt... simple. When you both were just two people trying to figure things out.

“I—” You cut yourself off, unable to find the words. You didn’t know what you were supposed to say, what you were supposed to feel. The kiss had been... unexpected, yet somehow, it had felt too natural to ignore.

Rafe was silent for a long moment, his eyes locked on his hands, his voice quiet when he finally spoke. “We can’t—this can’t happen again, [Y/N].” His words were final, but there was something underneath them—a hesitation, like he wasn’t entirely sure that was what he wanted to say. “I mean, we’re... we’re doing this for Willa, right? We can’t let this mess things up.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. You’re right.” But as you said the words, you felt a strange tug in your chest—something that didn’t align with the logic of what you knew was right. You didn’t know what to do with that feeling, how to even begin to unpack it.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You and Rafe were guardians to Willa. That was it. It had to be that way. This... this wasn’t supposed to complicate things.

But the air between you both remained heavy. Every word that followed felt like an attempt to fill the silence, to erase the awkwardness, but nothing worked.

You sighed, your hands pressing against your eyes. “This is just so messed up. We’ve already got enough going on, and now...” you trailed off, unsure of what to even say next. You felt disoriented, your emotions tangled.

Rafe glanced over at you, his expression shifting from shock to something softer. “I don’t know what to say either. But... we need to focus on Willa. We’re doing this for her. That’s all that matters.”

You nodded again, trying to pull yourself together, but the air between you two was thick, and no amount of words could erase the kiss, the connection that had flickered between you both.

And in the quiet that followed, you realized something: things were already complicated. Whether you admitted it or not, the line between what was necessary and what felt right was already blurred. And neither of you knew how to unblur it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The days dragged on, each one more awkward than the last. After the kiss, Rafe had retreated into himself, throwing up walls so high you could barely see over them. He was colder now—shorter with his words, sharper with his tone. The rare moments of understanding and teamwork you’d managed to build in the past months seemed to vanish overnight.

It was suffocating.

You found yourself juggling too much at once: your shifts at the café, the endless demands of parenting, and now, the tension that lingered between you and Rafe like a storm cloud. You couldn’t escape it. Every glance, every clipped response from him was a reminder of the kiss—a reminder of how things had gone wrong and how neither of you knew how to fix it.

Willa was your only reprieve. Despite the chaos, she was growing brighter by the day. Her giggles were your anchor, her tiny hands reaching for yours a reminder of why you were enduring this storm. But even she wasn’t enough to distract you from the weight of everything else.

“Rafe, can you grab her bottle from the kitchen?” you called one afternoon, cradling Willa in your arms as she fussed.

He didn’t look up from his phone. “You’ve got two legs, don’t you?” he muttered, the words slicing through the air.

You froze, biting back the sting of his tone. “I’m holding her, Rafe,” you said as evenly as you could manage.

With an exaggerated sigh, he got up and stomped into the kitchen. The bottle landed on the coffee table a moment later, the sound of it hitting the wood sharper than it needed to be.

“Thanks,” you said, though your gratitude felt hollow. He didn’t respond, disappearing into his office without another word.

This was how it was now—barbed comments, cold silences, and the ever-present feeling that you were walking on eggshells.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

One evening, after another particularly tense exchange, you sat on the edge of your bed, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The exhaustion was bone-deep. You felt like you were failing on all fronts—your job, your relationship with Rafe (if you could even call it that), and even Willa.

You couldn’t help but wonder how much longer this could go on. How long you could juggle everything without dropping one of the pieces.

But before you could dwell on it too long, there was a knock at the door.

Rafe stood there, his face unreadable. For a moment, you thought maybe he was going to apologize, maybe he was going to acknowledge how hard this had been for both of you.

Instead, he said, “We need to talk.”

You braced yourself. “About?”

His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t place—nervousness, maybe, or anger. “Ward.”

Your stomach dropped. “What about him?”

Rafe stepped into the room, his posture tense. “He’s... he’s trying to get custody of Willa.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“What?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“He’s claiming we’re unfit,” Rafe said, his jaw tightening. “Says we don’t have the resources, that we’re too young. He’s filing a petition.”

Your heart raced as you tried to process the information. Ward Cameron, the man who had emotionally scarred his children, who had driven a wedge into their family with his manipulations, was trying to take Willa away?

“He can’t—he can’t do this,” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “He’s not fit to take care of her! What about everything he did to you? To Sarah?”

Rafe’s expression hardened, a mixture of fear and fury flashing across his face. “None of that matters to him. He doesn’t care about her—he just wants control.”

The room felt smaller, the air heavier. You couldn’t lose Willa. Not to Ward. Not after everything you’d fought for, everything Sarah and John B. had wanted for her.

“What do we do?” you asked, your voice cracking.

Rafe looked at you, and for the first time in weeks, the coldness in his eyes melted away, replaced by something raw and real. “We fight him,” he said firmly. “We don’t let him win.”

But as he said the words, the doubt in his voice betrayed him. Because deep down, you both knew that Ward Cameron wasn’t a man who fought fair. And the thought of what he might do to get his way sent a chill down your spine.

The battle for Willa had just begun, and it was about to shake everything you thought you knew.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[mygayasslovesbluealiens]

ʚDAD!SWANSEA X GN!READERɞ + ❀DAISUKE X GN!READER❀

SUMMARY : your dad gets a job in space and returns a bit different, though, at the dinner table he meets someone familiar.

WARNINGS : SPOILERS!!! A little angst.

WORD COUNT : 2,394

A/n : I wrote this cuz some of y'all loved this idea. I didn't edit it so there might be some mistakes.

Click "Keep reading" for more!❀ʚɞ☟

You and your dad had an unbreakable bond. Ever since you came to the family, that man was attached to you by the hip.

He was a typical dad, throwing dad jokes around, carrying you around his shoulders, hanging your silly drawings on the fridge. Yeah, it was safe to say that he made you feel loved.

When your younger siblings came you were more than excited, you tried your best to suppress your happiness when your dad put your baby sister in your arms.

Just a child carrying a baby, how cute, your parents cooed at the sight.

But your dad never stopped giving you attention when your siblings were born, a matter of fact he tried his best to get you to bond with them, and it worked.

The more you grew up, the more you started discovering yourself. Everyday you'd find yourself a new hobby, and that hobby of yours started to show more in your teen years.

Your dad was actually thrilled but didn't show it. Like, one day you made him lunch, the second day you sculpted him, the other day you made him a scarf. Dam, he was proud.

School competitions? Yeah you joined them, and somehow won each single one (just imagine Swansea standing next to you with a smug grin on his face as he looks at the parents of the other contestants).

Then it hit him, it hit your dad that you weren't a child anymore, you were 17, your birthday in a few months. He was a bit heartbroken but knew that's how life is. You reassured him that you'll frequently visit them.

And that's how it went, you moved out, got a job, and started living your own life. But since you never really had any friends besides your co-workers, you payed frequent visits to your family. It was great, sitting at the dinner table and talking about your life and job.

Your mom did ask you about your dating life, it got a little heavy on you, but you did tell her that you were 'waiting for the right moment' and she let go of it.

At the mention of your job, your dad brought up the topic of his new job that he had applied to recently, apparently he was going to be a mechanic in a tulpar or something.

It... Something felt wrong, your gut was telling you that there was something wrong with what your dad had applied to. You brushed it off as you had nothing to say about it.

Until that day came, the day your dad left for the job. Before he went he spend a good time around you and your siblings. You made sure to hug him tight before he left, he joked about wanting to find a grandchild when he comes back from the job, which made your mom and sisters tease you about it.

Then he left...

For a few months nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You leave for work, hang out with your colleagues then visit your family. Nothing unusual.... Right?

It was when you stepped inside your family's home, a box of baked goods in your hands as you sat on the couch. Your sister practically snatched the box out of your grasp and inhaled half of the box's content.

You really didn't care as an uneasy feeling crept up your stomach. Brushing it off you looked at your mom who was busy on her phone. Taking a hold of the remote, you scrolled through channels, from one to the other. You kinds zoned out a bit, snapping back to reality when your mom dropped her phone, staring at the TV with a mortified expression. Looking at the TV screen, the colors on your face drained as you listened to the reporter's words.

The tulpar went missing...

Without missing a beat, you rushed to the bathroom and threw up from shock.

Why... Didn't you stop him from going?...

We're you scared that you'll come off as paranoid?...

Scared that you'll come off as clingy?...

Scared of disappointing your dad?...

Now look, he's now in the middle of space, in the middle of god knows where with limited food and resources to survive!

You were disappointed in yourself, you could've stopped him but you didn't.

After the incident, you quit your job and moved back to your old home to support your family. It wasn't easy, just thinking about what might've happened to your dad made you sick.

You'd gotten yourself a new job near your home. You were in control of the house now. Your mom became less energetic than she used to be, but you didn't care, you let her rest and have some time for herself.

As for your younger sisters, they started skipping school a lot, you went to the school yourself, to try to explain the situation to the school council to at least have some empathy for your sisters.

It was a draining job, you felt yourself become less and less bubbly than what you used to be. Your manager noticed it and decided to give you a break.

You wanted to cry, everything about this was overwhelming. You missed your dad, the guilt was eating you alive. Why did things go so wrong?

And that became your routine, maybe drive your sisters to school, comfort your mom, do your chores then lay on bed and cry yourself to sleep.

It was like your hope was completely shattered. You became more depressed those passing days, neglecting your own needs as you were busy helping out your family. Your mom took notice and tried helping you, pulling herself together so you can at least have a rest from all of this.

But what did you know? No one knows where your dad is, and it's your fault. You could've stopped him. But here we are.

Now you laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling just hoping something good would happen to at least give you some motivation to stay alive.

A slam from the door made you jolt up. You looked up to find your mom looking sweaty and rushed. When she saw you she screamed at you to get in the car. Absolutely freaked up, you sat in the passenger seat as she drove.

You were sure the police would pull you over at any moment by how fast your mom was driving, maybe crash into a few cars, but she didn't and that was good.

When she parked the car you found yourself at a hospital. Your mom dragged you there with her as she went to the elevator. Now inside, she stood there, shaking up. You wanted to ask her what had happened but didn't as your voice was stuck inside.

As soon as the elevator door open, you were dragged again to a room. Your heart was beating fast, your body sweating a bit from anxiousness.

The nurses let you inside the room. Scanning the room, you felt your jaw drop, there was your dad, sitting on the hospital bed with his left eye remaining and a scar on his forehead. Your eyes became hot with tears as your legs made you move to your father.

You immediately dropped your head on his lap as you sobbed. You felt like a kid again, as if you've woken up from a nightmare and went for your parents for comfort.

I mean... It was some sort of nightmare....

You managed to calm down a little. You felt your dad's hand on your head, patting you.

Moving to sit on the chair that the nurse provided you with, you looked up, seeing your dad stare at you.

"So, any grandchildren?..." You started crying again.

Your mental health have started to get better when your dad came back, your younger sisters were sobbing hard when they saw dad alive and well.

Seeing everything now back to normal, you suggested you move out again since you've done your job, but you had no other choice as you were forced to stay by your parents.

Now in a better mental state, you quite your job and got a new one at a cafe. You enjoyed your time there with your new co-workers. The customers were nice as well. It's as if a weight was lifted off your back.

Working at that cafe, you've met many lovely customers, but one had caught your attention. He came to the cafe every week, would order something then sit at one of the tables and do his thing.

He had brown hair, brown eyes, a scar in the middle of his face and some moles. He was cute. Wait what.

You never had an eye for anyone, so whys a random guy that visits your cafe suddenly cute? Weird...

Whatever, but these days, you've noticed something about him, he never orders, unless you were the one taking orders, you also noticed how he'd always tip you, despite your job paying you well. Does he.. Like you?.. Nah there's no way.

It was raining heavily outside, there was barely any customers, so you took your time to clean up the tables. You then made your way back to the register, made yourself something to drink as you waited for a customer.

Soon, the door bell rang, looking up from your phone you found no other than... Him.

"Hi what can I get for you?.." God your tone sounded rude, gotta work on that voice..

"Oh hey uhh, the usual you know.." He said awkwardly, scratching his head before looking away, sliding the cash on the surface of the register.

The usual was caramel frappe, sweeter than normal and some heated molten, he got a sweet tooth...

While doing his order you snuck glances at him, just to find him staring back.

Now placing his order in a tray, you made your way towards him, setting the tray down, you steadied your feet to walk away. "Hey! I'm sorry.."

You looked at him, he was wobbling in his seat as he tried to find his words. "So uhm... Can we.. Get to know each other?..."

Looking around the place, it was still empty, no customers, even if there was a customer, your co-worker Matthew would've delt with them so... You sat with him on the table.

The conversation was awkward at first, he confirmed your name and introduced himself. The conversation escalated quickly, you found out that you had a lot in common, you both the same age as well as you both had a passion for art.

You found yourself giggling at his jokes, amused by his humor. He also asked a lot about your interests, and like that you began to explain everything to him. Although, you were avoiding eye contact with him as he kept staring at you the entire time and you felt shy.

The night passed quickly, before he left, he handed you a pink envelope before walking out the door. Looking at the clock, your shift was going to end in a few minutes. You were curious about the envelope. Impatience and curiosity are the worst combos, being both, you opened up the envelope to find...

A detailed sketch of you, behind it he wrote his number and asked if he can go out sometimes...

Your heart skipped a beat when your brain processed everything. That night, you came home all giggly and smiley, your family took notice of that but didn't comment.

In the past new days, your family, especially your dad, took notice of your change.

At first, you didn't have a big skin care routine, but now, every morning, you're up early making sure everything's nice. Same with your clothes, you didn't pay much attention to your looks, now you're over here making sure you didn't wear the same fit twice.

Sometimes your parents caught you packing food in a tupperware while going out.

Something was off...

While your family wondered what you were up to, you were enjoying your time with Daisuke.

Few dates from time to time escalated to daily ones. He'd take you out to movies, restaurants, parks and cafes. He was a gentleman, doing cliche things to you every now and then.

He holds the door open for you, feed you sometimes, share his food with you and hold you close.

He started inviting you over to his place, it's when you started packing food you'd make for him.

And yeah, he's touchier in private, whenever you're at his place he's technically glued to you. Cuddling was his favorite thing to do whenever you watch a movie.

Not gonna forget to mention the gifts. He's always making you something. Either a drawing or some origami, and you loved them.

It took the both of you a few weeks to get comfortable with each other, with that, Daisuke started planting kisses on you everywhere, forehead, cheeks, lips, neck and hand.

And those weeks made you comfortable enough to tell your family about your new partner. You arranged a day for them to meet him and get to know him. Your dad was the one that suggested that idea, as he wanted to know if that boyfriend of yours was a real one or not.

Telling Daisuke about it, he was more than thrilled about the idea, he even asked you what outfit he should put on. It was quite the show. And the day finally came...

You, your mom and your sisters stared at the two scarred men in front of you. They were holding some... Intense eye contact.

Your dad's expression was unreadable while Daisuke pressed his lips together, a smile forming on his face as he tried to prevent himself from laughing.

"Pfft... L-long time no see..." Daisuke muttered before bursting into a fit of laughs. Snapping your head at your boyfriend, you looked back and forth at him and your dad.

"Wha- wait you know each other?!.." You asked, looking at your dad whos face-palming. "Yes.."

The dinner table was full of conversations, one side from Daisuke and how he was at the tulpar, the other Swansea exposing him and spilling the embarrassing things Daisuke had done.

After all, you all enjoyed the evening together. (But Swansea kept asking you for grandchildren)

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

AkrhamKnight! Jason Todd

-----------------------------

Sensitive Topics: descriptions of a toxic relationship and mentions of physical abuse (none actually written)

AK! Jason Todd who you're not even sure what you have with. Every time you try to refer to him as your boyfriend or yourselves as together like you did before his death, he pulls away and gets defensive.

"There isn't an 'us,' sweetheart. I ain't letting shit from before that fucking clown got to me matter now."

But if you try to walk away from the situation or start talking to somebody else, he gets so incredibly jealous.

"Oh so you really need two guys' attention now? What a fucking whore..."

AK! Jason Todd who, if you couldn't tell by now, is so incredibly toxic in whatever situation you have. He cant stand to see you walk away but it kills you inside every time you come back to him and his baggage.

"Come one, sweetheart... It was just a mistake. We all make 'em, right? Don't you go leaving me over some petty shit like that."

AK! Jason Todd who absolutely loathes you going out at night. Even when he's there with you, it still puts him on edge to see you walking the cold, dark Gotham sidewalks when you could be safe in his apartment or the base instead.

AK! Jason Todd who just gets so mean with you for no reason. Well, not for little things like forgetting to pick up plastic wrap at the store or something. More like walking alone in Gotham without him knowing you were even gone. He hates the thought of something happening to his precious little thing.

AK! Jason Todd who would never physically harm you. Are insults thrown around like confetti? Absolutely! Is there a scream fight almost every week? You bet! But has he ever raised a finger against you? No. And he would never even think of it.

AK! Jason Todd who's absolutely pissed whenever somebody even looks at you for too long, nevermind making comments. You'd be surprised just how many of his soldiers he's gotten rid of just for telling him to "put his bitch in her place," or for telling you to "cover up, slut."

AK! Jason Todd who can't open up. He knows what he's doing is horrible. He knows that everything he does affects you in one way or another. But what about the horrible things other people have done? What about what the Joker did to him? What about Bruce letting the Joker roam free afterwards and replacing him with another goody two shoes? Jason wants to talk to you, he really does. But he just doesn't see how you or anybody, for that matter, coyld ever understand him or what he's been through.

AK! Jason Todd who found himself crying in the dark shadows of your shared apartment when Bruce first came along to stop his ridiculous plan to take over Gotham with Scarecrow's fear toxin. Jason loved Bruce. Bruce was his only family. But family means that nobody gets left behind and Bruce sure as hell broke that rule.

(This is actually kinda cannon: in Akrham Knight, one of the conversations you can overhear between a few of the gaurds mentions Jason crying after encountering Bruce for one of the first times)

AK! Jason Todd who truly does love you, in some way. He doesn't think he can be in love with you, but that doesnt makw him care about you any less. You're his person, and you've been there for him whether he likes it or not.

AK! Jason Todd who would absolutely lose it if anything were to ever happen to you. He never wants to see even a hair on your damn head hurt if he can help it. If one of his guards were to be responsible for an injury you sustained, they'd be out the door and probably six feet under in a heartbeat.

AK! Jason Todd who, no matter what your situation or relationship is like, refuses to let you see his chest. Yeah, his entire body is covered in scars, both from the Joker and other things he's experienced. But the 'Y' shaped scar on his chest is strictly off limits. If you were to ever accidentally brush your hand across it while laying with him or something, he wouldn't lash out, but he'd certainly guide your hand away by gently grasping your wrist.

AK! Jason Todd who never wants to see you involved with anything he does or his plans. He thinks that his activities are far too dangerous for you, even if you do happen to be somebody who's capeable of holding your own in combat or other high-stress situations.

-----------------------------

Masterlist

[zigrethsnotebook]

Hello @zuekdaria and thank you so much for your kind words!!<3 It means a lot to me that you enjoy my little stories so much🥰

I think your ideas are lovely and I would love to morph them into one story featuring Ford, I hope that's alright with you! I hope you enjoy<3

Still waters run deep

Ford x Reader

words: 2,584

tags: sfw, fluff

You had moved to Gravity Falls early this year and needed a job quickly to get your footing. Something that would get you enough money to pass the time until you found the job you wanted. The Mystery Shack, owned and run by Stanford Pines, or Stanley Pines as you later learned, was the perfect place for you.

You were a good worker in Stan's eyes: always on time, never stole anything and did the work he asked of you. However, he was a little puzzled by you. You weren't the most outgoing person. The only times you talked to him instead of the other way around was when you needed something from him. Be it a new task, some clarification on a task or something else entirely.

He also noted that he never even saw you smile. Stan tried to tell you that it would look better for the customers when you greeted them with a smile at the cash register, but he never actually saw you do it.

However, being the massive flirt he is, he tried to get a rise out of you one way or another whenever he had the chance to. You always kept your cool. Unfazed by the old man and his weird but charming persona.

At least that's the way it looked to him. To you, he was slowly becoming your friend. You liked working for him and just generally having him around. So much so that you subconsciously started to put off looking for a different job.

Summer rolled around and you found yourself in the midst of the Pines' family drama. You didn’t mind that much, they had quickly all become very dear to you.

Then, Stan finished the portal and got his brother back. You didn’t know about the portal, of course. So, when you came to work the next day and saw a man who looked like Stan eyeing the souvenirs in the gift shop suspiciously, you didn’t even bat an eye.

At least not until Stan entered the room as well and you had to do a double take. "Ah, perfect. I see you've already met my brother, Ford." Stan's hand came down on his brother's shoulder who looked at him and then to you. "Oh, hello. I didn’t even hear you enter."

Stan laughed loudly. "Yeah, she does that. Not very talkative. But she gets things done and that's what counts." Ford raised an eyebrow at you, scanning you from head to toe. You didn’t flinch under his gaze, quite enjoying his eyes on you.

As much as Stan was charming and good looking when he wanted to be, his brother was something else. They shared the same good looks, of course, but Ford carried himself better. It made him appear taller, more put together. You liked him.

Stan and Ford quickly came to an agreement that Ford would stay in the basement and keep all his science and research down there, for the kids' sake. What that really meant was that Ford barely saw daylight at all. It quickly started to worry you.

The gift shop was slow one day, so you asked Stan about his brother. "Has Ford eaten today?" Your question was short, but Stan was surprised you asked it at all. "Not that I know of. Why, you wanna bring him something?"

"Yes." Stan wished he could read your expression. Were you just concerned about Ford's health? Did you see something in him? Either way, there had to be a reason and he decided to keep a closer eye on you.

After you got an 'okay' from Stan you made your way to the kitchen and prepared a simple meal. You took the plate back into the gift shop where Stan opened the Vending Machine Door for you.

You knocked on the door to his lab and the door swung open on its own. Quietly, you stepped inside, looking around the new room until you reached Ford, sitting at his desk with his back turned to you.

He was too focused on his work to notice you. Without a word you moved next to his desk, moved a few pieces of paper out of the way and placed the plate onto the wooden table.

Moving his papers was what made Ford look up at you with a raised eyebrow. He eyed the plate you set on the desk. "Did Stan put you up to this?" You found his eyes. Gorgeous big brown eyes. "No." You turned around and left again, leaving Ford looking at the door and the plate in bewilderment.

This became a daily routine. At the end of your shift you would prepare a simple warm meal for Ford and bring it to him without saying much or anything at all. You understood how important his work was and you didn’t want to bother him. Just wanted to make sure that he stays healthy.

A few days into this, Ford came up the stairs suddenly and started looking around the shop frantically. "Whoa, whoa, Sixer slow down. What's gotten into you?" Stan held his hands up as he stepped closer to his brother, calming him down.

"I lost... a creature got loose. It must be in the shack somewhere. It-It looks like a little orange fairy." Stan calmed him down further and asked if the fairy would be dangerous. Ford explained that it was entirely harmless, which seemed to ease Stan's worries. He was always so worried for Dipper and Mabel, it was very sweet.

After they both looked around the shack for a while and came up empty-handed Ford went back down with a sigh and Stan went back to his office. You sat at the register, reading a book. Stan didn’t mind you reading a book at work as long as you did all the things you needed to do.

After a few minutes something caught your eye. At first you thought it was a bee, zooming around the shop but as you looked more closely, you realized that it looked like a little person. This was the perfect opportunity to help Ford with his research.

You grabbed an empty jar from behind your counter and quietly made your way over to the shirt that the fairy was looking at. In one swift movement you put the jar over the fairy, using the shirt as a lid until you quickly put the actual lid on the jar.

You were careful not to shake the jar too much as you made your way to Ford's lab. Down there, Ford was scribbling away in his journal again. Without a word you carefully placed the jar on his desk. He looked up at you with wide eyes. "Thank you!"

You just nodded and headed back upstairs. God, the look on his face was everything to you. You wanted to see his face light up like that again. The rest of your shift you spent daydreaming about Ford and his big brown eyes. Surely, you would see them in your dreams that night.

When your shift was coming to an end you once again prepared something for Ford to eat and brought it to him. "You know you don't actually have to bring me food every day, right?" You looked at Ford. "I know." He furrowed his brows. "Then why do you do it?"

You thought for a moment, not quite brave enough to tell him just how much you care for him. "It makes me happy." Ford's expression softened and he chuckled lightly. "Well, you could have fooled me. I was worried you saw this as just another chore."

"I don't." Ford smiled at you and you felt like you were about to melt on the spot. "Well, in that case, thank you very much for looking out for me." You nodded and left the lab again.

Ford looked at the door for a moment after you were gone. He could not read you at all. It drove him a little wild. He seriously thought you hated having to come down here every day until mere moments ago.

He continued his work for a little while after he had eaten your food. Then, as he brought the empty plate back upstairs and found Stan in the kitchen as well, he decided to talk to him about you. But Stan was quicker.

"So. How's the food?" He smirked at his brother as he watched Ford clean the plate. "It's really good. But you know that already." Stan raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ford looked at Stan as he clarified. "I mean, you know her food is great because you ate it, too?" Stan scoffed. "No, smart guy. She only makes it for you." This took Ford by surprise.

To think that you only brought him food? Made it only for him? Why would you do that? Ford looked at his brother for help in organizing his thoughts. Stan chuckled at Ford's confused expression.

"Well, if I didn’t know any better, I'd think she has a crush on you." Ford stilled. Could that be? "But you know better?" Stan laughed, shaking his head. "Can't say I do."

Ford went back to his lab, trying to clear his head with science. But now, all he could think about was you.

Life continued the same as before. You came to work, did it quietly and efficiently. At the end of your shift you prepare some food for Ford and bring it to him. And, over the course of a few days, you watched his expressions change.

He had started out barely acknowledging you and the plate at all but now, every day he smiled a little smile at you. It made your heart flutter while also feeling appreciated for the work you were doing.

Today was another slow day in the shop when Dipper and Mabel stormed into the room. Dipper was holding something and looked to be running away from his sister. It was her glue gun.

Dipper had backed himself into a wall as Mabel tried to reach for the object. "Mabel! Grunkle Ford's Journal doesn't need to look cute! It's serious scientific research!" Mabel stood on her tiptoes, reaching upwards. "Science can be cute, too!"

A gentle smile graced your lips as you watched them. You put your book down and walked over to them. Being taller than both of them, you plucked the glue gun from Dipper's hand, turning both of their attentions to you.

"Mabel, I know you mean well. But maybe ask your Grunkle if he wants a cute journal?" She looked at you with big puppy eyes. "But... what if he says no?" You smiled at her. "Then I will let you turn my journal cute."

Mabel's eyes widened and a big grin appeared on her face before she hugged you. She quickly made her way down to the lab. Dipper looked at you suspiciously. "You write a journal?" You hummed. "Not a big scientific one. But I like to keep track of my life."

Dipper nodded in approval and then walked back to whichever part of the house he came from. You walked back to the register and placed the glue gun in one of the shelves behind it.

You didn’t know it at the time, but Stan watched every bit of this interaction between you and the kids through the security camera. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw you smile at them. And you talked so much!

He took the tape and made his way to Ford as inconspicuous as possible to show his brother this new side of you. When Ford saw it, it warmed his heart. The men only knew you as this cold exterior, but to see some of the warmth underneath it? He wanted to see more of it.

Ford asked Stan for some more of the security camera footage of you. Stan raised a brow at him but obliged anyway. Ford had to look through the videos, surely, this hadn't been the first time you had some reaction to something?

On a tape from two days ago he found something. You were reading a book like you so often do when not much needs to be done. And there he saw it, the slighted crease between your eyebrows and the tiniest tilt of your lips downward. You were frowning at your book!

Ford felt like a child at Christmas, giddy from seeing you express any emotion at all. He now had a new mission. A new experiment if you want. He wanted to hear your laugh.

A few more days passed and somehow, Ford felt like you were even more distant. And he hadn't even started on his new mission. But you weren't even meeting his eyes anymore when you brought him food. Said even less.

He made his way upstairs, feeling it necessary to ask you about it. But when he got to the gift shop, you weren't there. Ford looked around the house but didn’t find you. Eventually, he decided to climb to the roof. An elevated position would surely help locate you if you were outside.

But he didn’t need to look anymore, because you were sitting on the little balcony, quietly sobbing. He felt his heart shatter.

Carefully, he moved to sit next to you and as he did you silently jumped, not having noticed him join you. "Hey, it's alright. I didn’t mean to startle you." You sniffled, wiping the tears from your face and trying to keep it together.

"What happened ...if I may ask?" He was careful, he didn’t want to scare you off with being too forward. But he also wanted nothing more than to hug you tightly and tell you that everything would be alright.

"Too much..." You shook your head, sorting your thoughts before continuing. "Job search is not going well." Ford felt something in his chest tighten. You wanted to leave the shack? "My landlord is about to throw me out. And my family wants me to-" Your voice broke off, unable to finish.

Ford looked at you. "Would a hug help?" You looked at him as well, meeting his eyes, your tear stained cheeks reflecting the sunlight in a bittersweet picture. You nodded.

Ford's expression softened as he moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. After a moment you let your arms snake around his waist, pulling him closer, as you took the warmth radiating off of him in. It helped to ground you, remind you that not everything is terrible.

Letting his own affection for you overwhelm him, Ford pressed a gentle kiss into your hair. The moment lingered for a little bit. Then, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You pulled away from him, feeling better. "Thank you."

Ford nodded, offering a smile. You two sat next to each other for a while, just enjoying the view and each other.

Even though he hadn't reached his goal of hearing you laugh yet, Ford felt like he was slowly getting through to you. Slowly understanding you. He felt pride in being the one to help you feel better today.

And maybe he could talk to your landlord for you. Or he would just offer you to stay here with him, even though that would be way too direct. Either way, he looked forward to every moment he would be able to spend with you.

[haaam-guuuurl]

Fixing The Seven & Junior Year/Unquangling the Time Quangle:

We can do this guys! We can make it make sense! Let's go!!

Actually, knowing what we know now about the academic workload of junior year, it makes even more sense that Zelda, Ostentatia and Danielle would want to graduate early to avoid all that

And timeline-wise, a couple tweaks and we can make it work - The summer of the Night Yorb happened, and the Seven are coming back to school in those few days after the Night Yorb has been defeated but before the Bad Kids return, because that journey takes time, and it actually makes sense that the Bad Kids start the year a couple days late

So, the Seven’s first day is Aguefort’s last day, he’s there to receive them and break the news and tell them about the GED, but he’s leaving right after on his journey with Ayda

Then, we change T7 a bit so that it’s only during the first semester and all of them graduate early (so they just don’t happen to catch any of the Bad Kid’s mess at the end of the year, and they’re just far from school for the first semester and that’s okay)

Some wackiness to explain why Aguefort is in T7 finale – Tectonya could have contacted him in the Time Quangle to let him know about the Seven’s success, and he goes back to Elmville for a day specifically to receive them and have them officialy graduate, casting time stop so that he isn’t spotted by anyone at the school (which did happen in canon, it was just for no reason, but this would be an actual good reason!). Why would he do this? Because he’s Arthur fucking Aguefort. He’s just silly like that. And I think we can admit the Seven are his favorite students

Also, in ep 1, Penny thinks there isn’t a student council just because Aguefort’s been lying to her about it because he knows she would be amazing and he doesn’t want anyone at school in a position of power more powerful/capable than him - that's just canon

Finally, I want to add an entire missing, subtle subplot to explain Zelda and Gorgug: after they were reunited at the end of spring break, they were fine and good together; and through more Sophomore Year quests (like in Boys Night) and the summer of the Night Yorb, they have learned their lesson and communicated plenty even when apart. However, once Junior Year starts, and Gorgug is super busy with the multiclassing without an MCAT stuff, and Zelda with the maidens and the GED, they just start not having time to prioritize relationships (pun with the JY downtime stats very much intended) and eventually start realizing they’re drifting apart and going in different directions. Zelda didn’t really have her own arc of difficult family or future stuff in T7 like the rest of the group, which hey, I understand the nature of NPCs, and Brennan wasn’t going to narrate a whole other plotline just for and by himself, but it would be very easy to say that Zelda was dealing with a whole other thing in the background - namely, struggling in her relationship and coming to terms with the idea that it would be for the best to break up with her boyfriend, despite them still caring for each other. Ideally, post T7 ending, somewhere at the end of the first semester of JY (in which yeah, slight canon change, Gorgug and Zelda would have been together in until now, but only in the background, like how they were together in T7), they met up at Basrar’s, just like their first date, and had a talk about how Zelda’s graduated now, and how Gorgug’s really busy and how they don’t know how they really fit into each other’s lives anymore. They’ll always love each other, but amicably break up and part ways, each going on to their own adventures.

And I think that's it! All the inconsistencies between seasons I could find. And I do believe it works like this! Lmk if I forgot anything or if there's any reason this doesn't make sense 👍

[goodyordle]

The issue with the Vander, Silco and Felicia Scene

I want to explore more about how making Vander and Silco know Felicia before Vi and Jinx were born recontextualizes things. I have a lot of mixed feelings about this revelation, because on the one hand, it definitely makes everything about Vander’s relationship with Vi and Jinx hit harder. On the other hand, it makes both Vander and Silco more one-dimensional, plus it creates more ambiguity for the audience.

Let’s break it down. Before we even knew about this, we viewed Vander as a man who just adopted two kids from the street. This made him have a lot of nuance because this represented him putting the people of Zaun first before his animosity against topside. It showed his true leadership and explains why Zaun was so loyal to him.

Then they introduce his relationship with Felicia. This definitely creates a lot of emotional impact (I cried when I found that he was the one who named Vi and the way he was soft with Felicia melted my heart and is on my mind rent-free). But I feel like this emotional grab was a short-term benefit for the show compared to the long-term legacy Vander could have had. Now, we are conflicted if we should see Vander as someone who had a sense of loyalty to his friend or to Zaun. That’s not to say he couldn’t do both. In fact, it is both. After all, Felicia is also a Zaunite. But making them strangers (or acquaintances at least), I believe, would have created such a unique character.

Then we have Silco. Before this relationship was revealed, we saw Silco as another ambitious leader of Zaun who took a random child under his wing. He, who once was unable to empathize with Vander, eventually understood where Vander was coming from. It made him such a compelling villain because despite having this lawful evil alignment, he was portrayed as someone with humanity, empathy and humility that most people have. Now that we know he was acquainted with Felicia (I’ll explain why I don’t think they were friends later), it makes all of us wonder, did he know Vi and Powder beforehand? It makes us question his integrity and makes the speech at Vander’s statue a bit confusing, because you’d think he would understand to a small extent why Vander did the things he did. After all, they knew these kids.

However although it made things confusing, I disagree with the take that this creates a plothole for Silco’s character. Firstly, I think the writers were implying that they were not as close to Felicia as Vander was. Silco was not in Warwick’s flashbacks of the family together, and he was also not really involved in the conversation with Vander and Felicia. When they cheers, Silco doesn’t congratulate Felicia but instead says “To Zaun then”. So although the writers did what they could, the execution made things confusing.

It’s not a plothole but it does change how we see the two in a way, and whether it’s better or worse, I’m not too sure. I think a way to have improved it was if we had a scene with more people instead of just the three of them. Have Felicia talk with Connell, the actual dad (where the heck is he?? LMAO). Bring back Benzo! Make The Last Drop / Bedrock and Blisters filled with Zaunites to show Vander valuing his community. If Vander knew Felicia in this context, it would be more consistent to his leadership, because then it shows that Vander was close to her as a people. Having this small change in setting would have solved the consistency without changing the writing. It would also reinforce that Silco sees Felicia as an acquaintance more clearly.

Overall, I think this scene is one of the weakest parts of the show writing wise. And that’s already saying a lot about how good the writing is, since this scene pulls on your heart strings.

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 8

WE ARE FUCKING BACK! (I immediately started hacking my lungs after typing this, I'm sick :P)

To make a long story short, for the past few months I've either been really busy, really depressed, and usually both. Also for some reason chapter 8 was already hard to write and I don't know why.

ALSO before we get into the fic, @your-local-furby drew some absolutely lovely fanart of MC apologizing and seeing the library from the previous two chapters. I think it finally kicked my brain back into gear lmao.

Without further ado, please enjoy!

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

It feels like the ground beneath me is sucking me in.

I feel myself sinking,

I wish the ground would swallow me whole.

Embarrassment washes over me and swallows me whole. I feel the air leave my chest I want to break free but I feel like I’m drowning. 

You take the page you’re scribbling your notes on and crumple it into a ball. You’ve reread your rough draft and decided the arranged wedding scene you had planned wasn’t tragic enough. The blind musician is tasked with performing for the prince’s wedding, but his heartbreak causes him to mess up his performance, which causes everyone to notice he’s crying, including the prince. You’re trying to convey the feeling of knowing every single person in the room is watching you during the lowest point in your life, but it’s just not coming together in a way you like. You’ll run it by Alik later.

Technically, Alik is no longer your editor as a result of your deal with the Yae Publishing House. Still, they’re one of your few friends, and their workload has lightened since your previous publisher terminated all of those other book deals. Now they’re acting as your beta reader before you send off the next draft to the editor at the Yae Publishing House. It’s actually making progress go a lot faster, so much so you might only need one final draft of the whole story before it’s finally published, as opposed to multiple drafts. 

I do not need sight to know everyone in the room is looking at me. I feel it in my broken notes that trail into nothingness. I feel it in the resulting silence. I feel it in the quiet murmur spreading through the room.

I feel tears in my eyes as I drop my head down, praying no one sees me crying. If I could, I would sprint out of the room, out of the palace, so no one is witness to my heartbroken embarrassment. I’d run so fast, the prince would have no time to chase after me. It would be for the best anyways. He deserves his perfect and beautiful bride, and I am no bride, I cannot verify if I am beautiful, and in this moment, I could not feel anymore flawed as a person and human. 

A knock on your door breaks your concentration. You’re dreading whatever is on the other side, but know it’s better to get this over with. 

“Yes?”

The door opens, and your mother pokes her head in through the gap. She offers a smile. “We have company. Come say hi, please.”

“I’m… kind of in the middle of something,” you reply, “and I’ve told you that I’m going to see Alik when I’m done writing.”

“How is she, by the way?”

“They’re fine.”

“And Maria? How’s she?”

“She’s alright, I think. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Well, tell them both I say hello. Anyways, if you have a minute, I would like you to come downstairs. There’s someone I’d like you to talk to.”

It takes you a moment to recognize what this is, mostly because it’s been a while since she tried pulling this off. When you realize what’s happening, you just shake your head and look at your mother. “Which family friend is this?”

She gives you a very unconvincing look of confusion. “My dear, what do you mean?”

“Mother, please.”

“... Ana. Anastasia.”

Anastasia is your younger sister Adéla’s friend. Much like your sister, she’s only a year younger than you, but unlike your sister, she actually likes you. Adéla and you have butted heads throughout your lives, as siblings tend to do and especially with such a small age gap, but Adéla has taken it a step further saying that it’s your fault her childhood was so “miserable” as she puts it. She claims that your diagnosis made you the centre of your parents’ attention until your youngest sister was born, and then they focused more on her than Adéla. Conveniently, she’s never had any sisterly drama with her, only you. You feel for her, but there was only so much you could do at the time, seeing as you were eight years old.

“Absolutely not,” you tell your mother.

“But you two got along so well when she would visit,” your mother insists, “and she’s become a fine young lady since the two of you last spoke! Don’t you remember reading together when you two were little?”

“I’m sure she’s beautiful,” you say, “but Adéla will throw a fit if she finds out you set me up with one of her friends.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And I don’t want to find out,” you tell her, “and I told you I don’t like being set up on dates.”

Your mother lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m just worried about you, okay? I want to make sure my son is happy, healthy, and I want him to find someone he can settle down with. Your brother was already married at your age, and Adéla’s going to be having another baby soon.”

“Yes, but I’m not Pavel or Adéla,” you say, “the dating scene is different for me, and playing matchmaker isn’t going to make me feel any better or help me.”

Your mother just looks at you. That sad, pitiful look you know all too well. It stopped pulling on your heartstrings long ago, but sometimes it’s just easier to indulge her than it is to fight her on it. Besides, she means well, you think, it just can’t be helped that she doesn’t know her son has no interest in women.

You sigh, and stand up, much to your mother’s delight. “I’ll say hi, and that’s it.”

She grins, and she motions for you to follow her.

----

“... and she just happens to be single, too.”

Alik sets their glass down. “Interesting. So when’s the wedding?”

“It’s not happening,” you reply, “thank the Tsaritsa for that.”

“I’m honestly surprised your parents haven’t put you in an arranged marriage yet,” Alik comments.

“How many viable marriage candidates do you think there are that would be thrilled to marry someone who’s not only going blind, but could pass it on to their children as well?”

“Depends on how much the family is getting paid.”

“And it would not be much.”

The tavern is surprisingly quiet tonight. You chalk it up to it being the middle of the work week, not as many patrons willing to get drunk if they have work early in the morning. Currently, you and Alik are sitting at a table in the corner of the room while a few older patrons mill about, chattering on about their own lives at the bar. It’s actually rather nice, you think.

“What would they try to sell your bride to be on?” Alik asks.

“Um…” You look into your half drunk glass, trying to think of something funny. You clear your throat, straighten your posture, and put on your best business smile. “Here’s a fine young man who has no real work skills, and it’s not like they would do him any good since he’s considered legally blind and has between thirteen and fifteen years before he is fully blind. His only profitable skill is writing, though he doesn’t make enough to support a household. His blindness is also genetic!”

“By the Archons, at least say one nice thing about yourself,” Alik teases, though there’s a subtle sincerity to their words.

“I think I’m decent,” you say, “I think I might even make an okay husband, but I don’t think I’d be the kind of husband Pavel or my father are.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Alik replies, “there are plenty of families and couples where the husband isn’t always a provider. Besides, you’re not really a ladies man to begin with.”

You shake your head. “It’s not even that, it’s just… you know I try not to make a big deal of me going blind, but it’d be naïve of me to pretend that it’s not, and especially if I was in a relationship. Whether I like it or not, whoever I marry is going to inevitably become my caretaker. There will come a day where I’m going to need help, and I’ll rarely be able to return that favour.”

“That’s why it’s in sickness and in health,” Alik comments. They reach across the table and take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a good house husband, before and after you start seeing the world how Maria does.”

Maria is Alik’s cousin, and one of your few very close friends. She has been a big help to you in writing your book as her blindness is similar to the main character’s. While he was born blind, she actually had vision when she was born. Unfortunately, she suffered a very severe head injury when she was very young. She has little to no memory of her life before she lost her sight as a result, as well as having some developmental problems growing up. These days she’s doing much better, though her eyesight is still gone. At most, she can detect if there’s light, but that’s the extent of it. 

“Do you have permission to make jokes about her being blind?” you ask.

“I not only have permission, but that’s not even the worst joke I’ve gotten away with.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“For the best.”

Your table goes quiet as you and Alik take a moment to drink. You try not to cringe at the taste of whatever the hell Alik recommended you try. It’s a beer, and you can taste that, but it’s a lot more bitter than you like. Still, they bought it for you, it would be rude to spit it out.

“You don’t have to drink that, you know.”

“It’s an acquired taste, I’ll get used to it.”

You see a smile twitch onto Alik’s lips, and even if they try to hide it, you can see a shit eating grin from miles away. 

“Okay,” you say, “out with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You thought of something terrible, I want to hear it.”

Alik glances around the room, assessing how audible their comment would be. You take a sip of your drink, and they grin.

They lean in. “I’m sure Pantalone would be happy to hear that.”

You immediately sputter, spraying Alik in the face. They yell, swiping at their face as if they were sprayed with acid. You cough as what was left in your mouth goes down the wrong pipe. “Fuck, w-why’d I take a drink–”

“Did you have to spit that in my face?” Alik asks.

“Shut up,” you wheeze out. You give one more hearty cough, your throat and chest burning, and you can breathe again. You sit up, rubbing your chest through your shirt while Alik wipes their face and the table with napkins. You look around, and see the few patrons staring at your table. You painfully chuckle, and turn back to your friend. “S-Sorry, I should know better by now.”

Alik shrugs. “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“I told you that in confidence,” you whisper.

“You actually told me before the tea party,” Alik tells you. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s starting to show in your book.”

You feel your face flush, and you narrow your eyes. “I think I would know if I was writing about him, thank you.”

“The prince was a lot more arrogant in your first drafts,” Alik explains, “but in more recent iterations, it’s been toned down a lot. He’s also a lot more understanding of the musician’s blindness.”

You’re confused. “Well, yes. My first drafts are years old, so I’ve had to make some adjustments to better fit my writing style now. Besides, I’ve read too many stories about asshole love interests that don’t really learn anything, they just get tragic backstories that authors think justify their shitty behaviour. I’m not adding my characters to that pile.”

“No, I agree on that,” Alik says, “but even then, he was still a solid character, arrogance aside. He was just a spoiled prince who had to actually think about other people for the first time in his life. Like he’s never had to deal with someone with a disability, and doesn’t know how else to feel other than annoyed. In the more recent drafts, he still doesn’t know how to deal with it, but he’s a lot more willing to make up for the disrespect, where the old version did it, but complained the whole time. It just so happens that this change happened right when you met him for the first time.”

“That’s… hm.” You take a sip and don’t spit it in Alik’s face. “You’re on the right track, but I don’t think I was writing all of that because of a crush.” You feel your face flush warmer again. “He was a bit of an ass at the party, but since then he’s become one of…” You take a moment to count names on your finger. “... six or seven people that aren’t patronizing about me going blind. I’d just been putting up with most of my family either coddling me or being inconvenienced by me, but he’s a rare instance of someone making accommodations, but not making a big show of it. That’s why the book was like that until I met Pantalone.”

You stare into your glass. “And… a-and it’s why I enjoy his company so much…”

Alik doesn’t say anything. You look up, and you see their expression has softened a little bit. They lift their drink up to you, and you smile and lift yours up.

“Cheers.”

You both take a swig, and somehow the disgusting drink tastes sweeter going down. Your face feels warm, and you wonder why you’re still blushing when you see you’re already halfway through your drink. Alik has a similar glow in their cheeks. 

“That’s really sweet and cute,” Alik says, “but I do have to ask you something.”

You feel whatever warm feelings you’re feeling lessen when Alik’s softened expression gains a hint of concern. Their smile looks awkward by comparison, before they sigh and lose it altogether. You’re already dreading what they’re about to say.

They hesitate for a moment, and when they speak, it’s in a whisper. “Do you like him, or do you like what he’s done for you?”

“W-What?”

“I wouldn’t ask that if we were talking about anyone else,” Alik clarifies, “but I have to ask when it’s him. I don’t want to rain on your parade, I’m happy you like someone, but… he’s a harbinger. One of the more likeable ones, but not without flaws.”

“I know…”

Alik sighs. “Look, if it were some other handsome rich man, I’d say go for it. The fact it’s a harbinger specifically makes me a little worried, I won’t lie.”

You sound like my mother. “It’s a crush, not an engagement,” you tell them. “We enjoy each other’s company while he works with my father and sister. I just enjoy it differently than he does.”

“Still, even as friends, I’d be cautious. If not for what he’d have planned, then for what others might have in store for him.”

You take a swig. “You want to know what’s funny? You’re the first person to bring up his enemies as a point for why I shouldn’t get near him.”

“I am not.”

“No, seriously. My mother doesn’t want me near him because he’ll probably, I don’t know, kill me or sell me or steal my ideas, depends on the day. My father thinks I’ll ruin everything those two have built together, which I still don’t know why Pantalone is working with him.”

“Maybe your dad’s indebted to him or something.”

“...”

Alik notices your silence. They say your name in a soft voice, seeming worried by your expression. Your father’s not in debt, is he? The business isn’t as prosperous as it was when you were little, but job markets change all the time, and the economy is ever fluctuating. It’s purely the result of what happens when a business runs for as long as it does. Sometimes an empire doesn’t crumble, but rather dies slowly.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You snap out of it. “I’m, uh, I’m fine.” You push your seat back and stand. “I’m just, um, I’m going to go to the washroom for a second.”

“... Okay? Just watch yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” you call out over your shoulder before immediately bumping into someone. Unlike with Pantalone, you actually manage to catch yourself before you fall. You know that Alik is holding their head in their hands, possibly stifling laughter too for a little extra salt in the wound.

“Archons, sorry,” you immediately blurt out, “I didn’t see you there.”

The ginger haired man laughs. “Oh, no worries comrade! Just be more careful next time!”

You stare at the man, eyes widening. His smile grows, almost reaching the dull blue of his eyes.

“Why the surprised face?” he asks jovially.

You sigh and shake your head. “I have got to stop meeting harbingers like this.”

[jheselbraum]

Do you think the GF fandom tends to wobbify Stan a lot more than Ford?

Oh absolutely. And part of it is standard fandom projection, you know? Which is fine, it's whatever. People do it to Ford a lot, too. No biggie. People do it because they see themselves in Stan and that's fine, it just gets in the way of more serious thematic discussion, though back in the day it was a Lot worse people were a lot less chill about the whole thing to the point where if you so much as dared to point out that Stan is a criminal without the qualifiers that he's a criminal because he had no familial support as he was maturing into an adult and was homeless so he kind of had to in order to get by, you'd get fucking demolished.

And like, it's because a lot of people relate to having shitty parents and being told by teachers that they're not smart enough and being homeless or at least really fucking poor. Like, it's just kind of something that happens with fandom, you know? And it's fine, mostly, fandom is a sandbox and a lot of these people are projecting so they can work through real world shit that's happening in their lives (you guys have no idea how many unposted "Ford has some kind of mystery chronic illness that's just absolutely wreaking havoc on his daily life" fics I wrote after I got diagnosed). And it's not like there's zero justification for it, Stan's a very sympathetic character in the show canonically, despite his status as a wanted criminal (presumably internationally), and a bit of a softie at times.

The problem is when the fanon woobification is used in place of actual textual evidence when people try to have serious discussions about the canon material and not your fanfic where Stan is just. Just real sad about his brother, why won't he thank him? He's sad!

This chart from @itsabouttimex2 explains the cycle very succinctly.

Like, I'd argue that Stan isn't even the most woobified character in Gravity Falls by volume (that honor goes to Fiddleford to be honest) but he's the character whose woobification is the most visible and has the most capacity to grind any serious discussion about anything even slightly negative that happened to Stan or, god forbid, was caused by Stan to a halt. Again, this problem has gotten better over the years, despite the fandom's recent "relapse" for lack of a better term, but (and I say this knowing exactly who I was in 2017) sometimes in order to talk about something you like in a fan context, you have to take a step back and remind yourself of who these characters actually are and what the text of a work is actually trying to say. Like, "death of the author" as a way to interpret a work is incredibly popular in fandom at large, not just in Gravity Falls, and it has its merits, but I feel like it's gone from "the meaning of the text is not derived from the author's intention, but the reader's interpretation" to "the meaning of the text is not derived from the text, but the reader"

"Sometimes the curtains are just blue" has already been used to justify completely abandoning the idea of critically analyzing a work (to the point where many reading this will see the word "critical" and assume that I'm talking about literally criticizing something and not analyzing a work to determine its meaning, its purpose, and effectiveness at conveying those two things) and some people will take that a step further and go "Sometimes the curtains are red, because red is better than blue. Sometimes morally."

I didn't expect to go off to yes or no question like that, it just kind of happened. I don't know, I prefer discussions about this show where I don't have to step over a dozen people who think I'm talking about the version of Stanley Pines that lives in their head and always Responds Correctly to whatever personal issue they might have.

[lalacliffthorne]

Hi, I love your modern batboys roommate fic so much. I am obsessed with Azriel and readers relationship and the way you write them. It’s my comfort fic that I always fun back to.

I know you don’t take request and I totally respect that, but I would be really curious what it would look like when Az and reader get into a fight (either a smaller fight like a disagreement or even a bigger fight). I’m really curious what it would look like since they live together, how they would react to being in a fight. And I’m curious what Rhys and Cassian’s reactions would be as well. But I feel like depending on the fight it wouldn’t last too long since they seem to be good at communicating and they love each other so much.

Sorry about the ramble, I’ve thought about this way too much. Anyways love your writing and your fics 🫶🏻🫶🏻

omg hi 🥹 thank u so much!! this means the world to me 💕

oohhhhh okay?? this is a really good question?! I already know I'm gonna go overboard with this lol

so for me, I feel like disagreements are rare. because honestly, you rarely disagree on anything in the first place. like, you are so attuned to each other and in synch, barely anything can throw that.

which means, the few disagreements that might occur are usually based on concern or something similiar. like azriel thinking you need a break and you being too stubborn, and vice versa. but those are usually solved easily, with azriel simply literally dragging you away from work and you talking some sense into him. communication is something the both of you know is important, and while az might not seem like he's big on talking, he's actually one of the few people that can get through to you when you're caught in your head, with simple, steady words. vice versa, you are one of the only people that can get through to him.

which means, actual fights are even more rare. like, so rare that the first time it happens, it throws not just you, but everyone.

it would definitely be about something that actually runs deep, bc anything superficial you either talk out or never actually becomes a problem. it would have to be something that makes azriel shut down and you so frustrated that you do too. again, I think it would be most likely something that stems from concern about the other.

the fight itself would shake you to your core. not because azriel would get loud or anything, he would never, not even in a serious argument, not even if you lost your temper on him. but bc usually, you manage to talk through everything.

but this time, instead, azriel shuts down. barely says anything at all, whole body tense and eyes stormy. it wouldn't be to punish you or anything; the literal only reason he would shut down on you like this would be him getting caught in his own head until he's not able to see how desperate you are, angry - until you shut down too.

and that is when the actual hard part begins. azriel is still caught in his head and distances himself without even noticing, and you pull back too, bc you're stuck in your own head.

which means suddenly, the whole flat is quiet.

rhys and cassian would notice immediately - and it would throw absolutely everything for them. bc let's be honest, azriel and you are the one constant these two can always rely on when they get home, knowing you are either in one of your rooms, your body curled into azriel's on the bed, messing around in the kitchen or sandwiched on the couch. you are the two people in their lives they know are like - fucking meant for each other.

so I definitely think it would have a massive effect on them. like suddenly rhys, who has problems sleeping in good times, barely sleeps at all. just loses all his focus; burns food and gets the simplest recipes wrong. he gets snappy, not even sarcastic or anything, just plain pissed, until it mounts into an absolutely massive argument with his dad. and cass, who we all know is basically sunshine incarnate, is just worried to his core. bc you're his family, and he can't lose that. so, gone is the constant grin and jokes, until all is left is a broody attitude and a deep frown.

I don't think either of them would ever pick sides, like - they love the both of you way too much for that and can probably guess that this argument is not really anyone's fault. having said that, I do think cass would probably gravitate towards you. bc - he is so protective of you on a good day, and he literally physically can't stand to see you so upset. it just absolutely breaks his heart, and he would want to do everything in his power to make sure you're not alone in this. like, he's the one who gets you to finally open your door, and who you break down on. he's the one who doesn't leave your side until he absolutely has to, who takes you wherever you need to go, sends everyone who just looks at you for too long scrambling with a simple dark glare. don't get me wrong, he'd leave you alone if you'd asked him, but he would probably fucking camp outside your door or something, just in case.

rhys on the other hand is there for you quietly. like coming into both of your rooms to bring you food and, in your case, sitting down on the floor until you've eaten something. pulling you out of the flat for a walk so you get some fresh air, just letting you lean into him. other than that, he just watches quietly.

until he's had enough. cause honestly - it's clear to anyone with the barest bit of common sense that both azriel and you are absolutely miserable. neither of you leaves their room. you don't get any sleep, bc how when azriel's not there, your thoughts are swallowing you whole, and you don't smile anymore. meanwhile, azriel stops talking altogether. both of you are yearning so incredibly hard for the other that whenever azriel just catches a whiff of your perfume, he has to fight the urge to barge into your room, simply held back by guilt, and you well up whenever you just catch a glimpse at his door.

I think rhys would probably just march into azriel's room and tell him to cut the crap. he would be so angry, like - "please, for god`s sake, stop being a fucking idiot, get out of your head and talk to your fucking girlfriend, you moron". and azriel would glare at him so hard - but rhys just glares the fuck back until azriel breaks.

he probably finds you in your room. it breaks his heart to see you curled up under your blanket, looking tired and pale and likely with red eyes from crying, and he suddenly absolutely wants to kick himself. you're not any better tho, the sight of him, hair a mess, dark shadows under his eyes and gaze dull causing your chest to squeeze.

you definitely talk it out, azriel starting, voice quiet, rough. it needs a good, honest conversation, about the reasoning why he shut down, why you did the same. you also promise there and that moment to never let it get that far again, to not speaking for days, bc honestly - you're just miserable without the other, and you barely handled it this time. you make a deal to give the other space when needed but never go to bed without talking it out - and you stick to that, for every future argument after.

when azriel finally pulls you into a hug so tight, your ribs ache, you just squeeze back, probably tearing up bc god, you missed him. and you missed his smile and his eyes and the way he always seems to be right behind you, and nothing feels right without him.

cass and rhys are so relieved when you walk into the kitchen together bit later, cass breaking into the widest grin ever and rhys immediately making you promise to him too to never let it get this far again, bc fuck that - the two of you are meant together and fighting is just shit. it makes you giggle wetly, azriel cracking the first grin in days, and both cass and rhys swear the world finally feels right again.

anyway, jfc, I'm sorry for this ramble 🙈 that totally got out of hand 😂

thank u so much for this again tho, this was really fun!! if there are other scenarios you've been thinking about, I'd love to hear them 💞

[fandom-puzzle-peaces]

Just a Thought About Cale Part 2

It hath been requested, so here is a sort of continuation from my last post. Today I am gonna talk more about what I believe Cale embodies:

HOPE & LOVE

In my first post I already talked about hope a bit, and ya’ll can read that if you want my full take on this, but I will continue where I left off. Last time, I mentioned that something was missing when I listed out what it is exactly that Cale hopes to have in his “slacker life.” Said list is:

A nice house

A peaceful place to have said house in

A ton of money

After looking at this you may be wondering what is missing, since it looks like everything Cale has stated time again to want is already there. However, we all know how unreliable of a narrator he is and that he never actually fully says what he wants unless it’s money. What is missing is his hope of having a family living there with him in that nice peaceful house.

It’s so obvious that he misses having others around him, regardless of how many times he denies it. He’s just scared of losing them again, and for a time I do genuinely believe he had given up on that hope of having loved ones. But over the course of his new life as Cale Henituse you can slowly but surely see that hope being rekindled. It also helps when he learns that the “curse” that was accidentally placed on him due to white star shenanigans is now gone.

So now he actually has a chance to be able to keep his new family around, and you better believe he will do anything in his power to do so. We have already seen plenty of his self-sacrificial stunts to know this fact already. Cale’s list of hopes, of course, has continued to grow from just those beginning 3 that encompass his “slacker life,” and most likely will as time goes on to most likely include the simpler pleasures of life he can indulge in with his family.

A true family man I would say!

Now, regardless of how many hopes he has (or how small they may seem), Cale is someone who is full of hope and in turn fills others with it as well. So where does Love fit into our beloved idiot you may ask? Look at all of the people he has surrounded himself with and how he interacts with them. He may say he's "trashy" and a "bad person," but we all know he isn't with how he acts. Cale is highly perceptive of his family’s condition, their wants and needs. He goes out of his way, all the time, to make them happy:

He gives the children sweets and cuddles all the time

He gave Raon his name

He gives Rosalyn whatever she needs for her research and is helping her become the Magic Tower Master

He visits Alberu all the time and just hangs out, which must be such a relief to shed the royal persona (even if Cale does steal his cookies)

He lets Ron mess with him even though he hates it and helps him take back his ancestral home

Always eats everything Beacrox gives him and compliments it (probably also gives him new kitchen tools and ingredients to mess with as well)

He gave Eruhaben a reason to live longer and extended the dragon’s lifespan—and went through one hell of trial to do it—so he could do so (said reason being to live with them for as long as possible)

He gave Mary the world to experience and explore to her heart's content

Took in Lock and his siblings and just lets them be kids, albeit very violent ones

He got Choi Han a new sword (which he treasures), as well as a new home and family (which he treasures even more)

That's not even counting all he does for the others and his allies. But most of all, Cale protects them:

He never puts the kids in a situation where they can be hurt

Even when one of them was in harm’s way (Raon), he bodily shielded them not once but twice

He carried Rosalyn (with his weak noodle arms) when she couldn't stand out of harm’s way

He keeps Alberu's heritage a secret and helps him politically

He literally blew up an island for Ron

I don't think he's had a big moment for Beacrox yet, but he has saved him from the fate of living in a world without his father

Has shielded Eruhaben before from the White Star

Like the kids, Mary is almost always out of harm's way and he also protects her politically

Has shielded Lock during the Battle at the Gorge of Death

He protected Choi Han from completely losing it, as the biggest danger to Choi Han is Choi Han himself

Cale loves his newfound family so much he speedran the war with White Star in UNDER A YEAR!! And that's just for his family! You cannot tell me he hasn't also fallen in love with his new (well what was supposed to be his really) home world. He is literally tracking down and annihilating the Hunters who are in other worlds because they keep going after his in part 2. Don't tell me that isn't love! It also doesn't help that, no matter how much he denies it, Cale gets attached fairly easily. He wants people around him to love who love him in return.

GIVE THIS MAN SOME HUGS!

Anyways, I think I have rambled long enough. Hope ya’ll enjoyed this!

Brief interest check: how would ya’ll feel if I posted some creative prompts for writing, drawing, etc.? Lemme know however you want.

@elaemae hope you liked it!

[futuretrain]

very good post, thank you. i love the idea of fuyumi, but her execution is very shallow and isolated, if it makes sense? and not in the way that the childhoods of todoroki kids were isolating, but in terms of storytelling. all of the todoroki siblings are like that, including shouto, because each of them and their experience and trauma get evaluated separately, and then they simply have to come together to stop touya. they talk for a bit, sure (like the very and i mean *very* brief discussion that shouto and fuyumi got to have after the family dinner in the endeavor agency arc), but we don't get to see them have much in way of interaction together without endeavor being just. there and dominating the panel space and sucking up all the oxygen in the room.

it's disheartening, because it leaves so much unaddressed. each of the siblings circle their recovery/processing around endeavor, when, considering how the subplot of the todoroki family started, it should have been about the siblings, together. shouto said "i forgot all about you", and that helped him self-realize for a moment as a whole person, not one part of a quirk and one part of legacy expectation.

and yet endeavor's presence entirely dominates the subplot thereon and to the very end of the story. the todoroki kids become extensions to endeavor's character and tools to prop him up as needed, and fuyumi, especially, i feel gets it terrible. she gets to say once that she feels a lot of the same as natsuo, yet she never gets to actually express it - it's just a throwaway line. what she is written to do (and what is never explored in relation to shouto himself or his relationship with fuyumi or fuyumi's mental state and thought process) is create convenient opportunities for endeavor to engage with shouto in a non-professional atmosphere. it's fuyumi who gets used to organize the family (and interns/friends) dinner during endeavor agency, so endeavor doesn't have to force his son who's just declared that he won't behave to him like his son during the internship to endure his presence in a personal setting, because that would make endeavor look like even more of a selfish insincere dick. it's fuyumi who gives endeavor shouto's phone number so endeavor can blow his phone up with messages during school hours(!!!), so endeavor doesn't have to work to obtain his number in a different and more intentional and forceful way, because that would make endeavor look like even more of a selfish insincere dick.

i feel like you may be on to something with the fuyumi-eri comparison, because they are characters who are used as plot devices/props and as ways for the story to answer difficult questions without really answering. for fuyumi, it's this. for eri, it's the unspoken question hovering menacingly over the entirety of mha: what should be done with people whose quirks are too strong and dangerous. even though i find the saving of eri very powerful and an overall very good moment, the logic itself that deku uses - saying that eri's quirk is healing him, ergo it's a kind quirk, ergo eri deserves to be saved - i find very dangerous, for the simple reason that it refuses to engage with the possibility that someone's quirk may not be capable of kind things, so the answer in the end by exclusion posits that people whose powerful dangerous quirks cannot perform good actions do not deserve to be saved. and that idea permeates the story till the end - if only toga had known love before, if only she'd been better, she would've wanted to be kind - to give blood instead of taking it. afo could've been the kindest quirk. till the end, the story refuses to consider that a person may not be kind, and still deserve salvation, and only dreams of worlds where that they were just kinder, so as to fit the profile of someone who deserves to be saved.

TW: ABUSE, CHILD ABUSE

“He wants to air this dirty laundry to the world does he…? Dabi, you fiend…you’ve been waiting for this moment…when they couldn’t prevent mass destruction…and faith in heroes is wavering.” - chapter 292

I truly, wholeheartedly, believe that MHA as a story upholds the myth of the perfect victim. I do not want to discuss if Horikoshi did that on purpose, or subconsciously because of inner bias – I find no meaning in doing so. For me the execution of an idea, in the grand scheme of the narrative, holds more value than the intention of the author. I’ve also had my fair share of people infantilizing Asian authors in the anime community for their poor writing decisions for one lifetime. It’s patronizing to both the author and the people reading it. Whether or not Horikoshi intended for his themes of abuse to paint the picture they did does not matter, because that’s how it reads as.

MHA puts victims of abuse in narrow boxes and softly dictates what’s an acceptable reaction to said abuse. Victims are continuously walking a tightrope between being deserving of compassion and sympathy and being unredeemable monsters who are too far gone and are only good for martyrdom after being put down.  

Eri fits the clean cut depiction of abuse victims that media usually gears towards. She is untouched by the cruelty around her - she preserves her innocence and kindness. She isn't assertive, but rather meek and passive. She doesn't fight back with force. And when offered help, she is receptive to it. That is not to say that Eri's depiction doesn't have a place in fiction, or that her portrayal can't be representative of the experiences of some - as we all deal with trauma and the inhumanity people throw at us differently. We see the same thing in the portrayal of Fuyumi, who shares many of the qualities discussed above. The same thing applies to her - i personally love the idea of all the siblings having different reaction to their childhood trauma and abuse. It shows that victims are not some type of monolith.

But the narrative treats the "forgiving" or "receptive to help/support" victims of abuse with more grace and with much more kindness. if you are willing to forgive, or the very least be quietly tolerant, the story grants you a happy ending. Forgiveness isn't a bad thing, it is an individual choice - but an abuse victim shouldn't have to do it for them to have a happy ending.

In a vacuum Eri and Fuyumi's character arcs and depictions of abuse are good but it becomes a problem when that's the only experience and type of victim we ever hold in high value or recognize as valid and deserving of compassion. Which the story reinforces.

Touya and Tenko's backstories aren't pretty nor comfortable or easy to sit through. Their responses to abuse aren't either. Reactive abuse is very much real.

[vaguely-concerned]

I am so mad about how desperately into pan I am. he was specifically made to fuck me up. they dangled him in front of me like 'hey would you like to see a sad clown trickster with emotional intimacy issues and a heart of, if not gold, then some mysterious alloy with qualities not at all unlike those of gold at the end of the day?' and I went 'boy would I!' and now I'm lost. I'm on my knees he's like if reyes vidal was actually redeemable instead of just a 'release my man he did do all of that but I don't care' situation

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

sometimes my bestfriend is like an angel in disguise istg