#like this isn’t that important to the fic technically considering it plays in the end 1630s. but consider how the history of the town and

[gaylos-lobos]

I know the show established that gravesfield was already a “town” in 1613, but considering how it actually is historically I’m gonna go with it being a trading port that turned into a small settlement before being properly founded as a town in 1635 and then expanded into a bigger town when the new arrivals started to move further west in the mid 1630s and started settling more in Connecticut.

[pingutats]

i just had such a good request for a fic. dom/sub dynamic with dom!harry where y/n is being spanked for misbehavior and she ends up crying during it because she feels like she deserves to be hurt, and harry stops immediately and there’s a lot of fluffy aftercare and physical affection

thank you for the request!! i know it took me a million years to get to writing this but finally did it... i know it strays a little bit from all the details of your request but i hope you enjoy regardless!

warnings: spanking, dom/sub dynamic, descriptions of anxiety (maybe don’t read if you’re in a weird headspace, it’s not exactly pleasant!)

word count: 1.7k

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

As soon as Y/N hears Harry’s car in the driveway, she dashes from the kitchen to the front door like a kid that’s heard an ice-cream van. After the day of work at home she’s had, of redoing paperwork she’d messed up the first time and struggling through technical issues and communication errors over email—she just needs Harry so badly.

In fact, she’d texted him earlier to let him know. Quite blatantly. With a photo she prays he opened when there was nobody else around.

When Y/N opens the door for him he freezes, taking in her appearance. She’s wearing just panties and one of his shirts, her bare legs completely on display for him. His gaze sweeps up and down her body for a second, then he swears under his breath and strides in quickly. Y/N jumps back to give him room, waiting a few feet ahead in the hallway.

He shuts the door with his arm swinging back behind him, not even glancing over his shoulder to watch it close.

There’s a second of silence as they stare each other down, and it’s in this second that Y/N feels them slip into the roles of the game she’s been wanting to play all day. His eyes go from wide in shock to steady. Her head bows almost of its own accord, responding to the straightening of Harry’s shoulders after he drops his bag.

He inhales sharply through his nose and drops his keys into the bowl on the bench. “You’ve been doing this on purpose, darling,” he says in a measured tone. It isn’t a question. He won’t be asking questions now—she won’t have to think, she can just listen to him, let him take over now.

She plays with the bottom of his t-shirt that she’s wearing, pulling it up enough to reveal the slightly paler skin where her shorts would usually cover.

Harry’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Come here,” he says, beckoning her over.

She considers refusing, just to be a brat, but it’s a lot easier to just go along with him now she’s getting what she wanted. She twists her hands in the t-shirt in front of her as she approaches him, averting her eyes from his as he watches her, suddenly vulnerable under his gaze.

When she’s close enough, he reaches out and grabs her wrists to yank her grip on the shirt free, pulling her off balance so the only thing that stops her falling flat on her face is his arms. She tries to relax into his grip, tries to let herself go.

“Been so fucking needy today. That photo — nearly had me getting hard in the studio right in front of everyone, love,” he says, squeezing her wrists almost painfully. “And look how you answer the door, nearly naked for anyone walking on the street to see.” He shakes his head, clicking his tongue condescendingly. “Do you want to apologise for anything?”

She looks at him, pretends to think, and then shakes her head.

He sighs. “Of course not, you little brat.” His grip loosens. “Alright then. Go upstairs for me.”

She blinks at him.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Go on.” He spins her around and nudges her towards the stairs with a gentle push.

She glances over her shoulder at him before she goes and he only raises his eyebrows expectantly. She’s almost tempted to pull the back of the t-shirt down over her ass to cover herself, but that wouldn’t get her what she needs, and what she needs is Harry to take care of her—so she keeps her head bowed as she walks up the stairs, adding a little swing in her hips with each step just as the icing on the cake. She smiles when she hears his deep inhale from the hallway as he watches her the whole time.

Upstairs, she sits on the end of their bed with her hands in her lap, scratching at days-old nail polish she’ll need to redo soon. There’s a knot in her stomach that’s been twisting all day, stresses piling up and morphing into some ugly feeling she can’t shake, not without Harry’s help. She manages to peel all the bright pink colour off her left thumbnail while she waits.

It seems like forever before she hears Harry’s footsteps up the stairs but when she does, she straightens up. The sound of the door opening makes her jump in nervous shock. She flexes her fingers, trying to calm her jitters. It’s Harry. She needs him.

“Being such a brat today,” he says when he’s finally in front of her. “Aren’t you? Don’t know how to behave.” He sits beside her, squishing her cheeks with his thumb and forefinger. “Need me to teach you a lesson, hm?”

She nods at him, eyes moony. Yes, this is what she wants, needs from him—to let him take over for a little while, let him take out his frustration on her, help her let go of her own.

His grip softens a bit. “This okay, baby?” he asks more quietly.

She swallows. “Yeah.”

He leans forward and gives her a quick kiss. She feels like melting against the softness of his lips, pressing against her own, the mouth she knows so well. It’s a comfort in the mess that her mind is feeling like right now.

But he isn’t so gentle as he drags her over his lap a moment later, her face roughly pushed down into the mattress. His hand squeezes her ass, only barely covered by her panties, and her breath hitches.

“Count for me.”

“Yes sir,” she breathes, closing her eyes.

Her exhale is cut short by the force of his palm cracking against her skin, jolting her forward over his lap. The sting dissipates quickly, taking none of the tension inside her with it.

“One,” she says.

“Good girl.” His hand comes down on her again, harder this time.

She screws her eyes shut. “Two.”

It isn’t feeling like how she wants it to feel. She’s too tense, restless, her mind unwilling to float away under Harry’s touch. The pain, which usually is laced with something brilliant and exciting, is just pain today. But with all the mistakes she’s made today, all the things she messed up that have just added to her workload and her stress—maybe this is what she deserves. Punishments are called that for a reason.

So she stays where she is, her head lowered so Harry won’t see anything wrong. She gasps at the third, and it takes her a second to remember she needs to count. “Three,” she says, her voice shuddering.

Harry pauses and she fears she’s made him upset, spoken too quietly, taken too long—she can’t do anything right.

“Love,” he says. His hand comes to rest on her shoulder gently. “Are those good tears or bad tears?”

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and in the pause, realises her cheeks are wet. “Um,” she says. Her voice shakes.

Harry’s arm snakes underneath her and pulls her up, manoeuvring her so she straddles his lap and he can see her face. The crease between his brows is deep as his eyes dart over her face, his thumb coming to her cheek to brush a tear away.

She leans her head into his palm that was cracking down onto her skin just a minute ago and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

“What happened? When did it change?” he asks, his voice soft again, his character leaving.

She shrugs. She doesn’t trust herself to speak without crying more, and she feels stupid enough already.

“It’s alright, love,” he says, shifting so he can sit up straighter and pull her closer to his chest. He rubs her back, kissing her hair. “Let’s just rest for a moment, alright?”

She nods into his shoulder, hiding her face. His hand cradles the back of her head. The panic that she was feeling is dissolving into nothing. All day she felt so tense with so much twisting inside her, and she’d thought she could force it out painfully—she was wrong, of course, and now she feels awful for roping Harry into her misguided attempt to fix herself.

After a couple minutes, Harry taps her to get her to look up at him. “Why’d you want a punishment today?” he asks, without accusation.

She shrugs, raising her shoulders as high as she can and then letting them drop sharply. “Just felt like I needed it.”

He nods. He understands that sometimes she feels like this—needs to lose herself in playing a role for an evening, forget about real life and its responsibilities—because he knows the feeling too. She’s helped him in this way before. They take it in turns: give each other what they need, when they need it. “Wasn’t helpful today, though?” he prompts, his eyebrows raised sympathetically.

She shakes her head, looking sheepish. “Sorry.”

“Hey,” he says. He smiles a little bit and a shallow dimple appears in his cheek. “That’s fine. It’s just a game. We play it whenever you want to, we stop playing when you’re not enjoying it. That’s important, alright?”

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “Sorry.”

“Need to stop apologising, baby,” he tells her. “Just keep talking to me. I don’t want to hurt you.” He kisses her cheek and the gesture raises butterflies in her stomach, even still after all the months they’ve been together. It reminds her that he’s there for her, to look after her, to take care of her when she can’t do it for herself. His lips stay close to her skin as he asks, “How can I help, though, really?”

She buries her face back into his shoulder. “Dunno,” she says, her voice muffled. “Just need you.”

She feels his chin gently knock against the top of her head as he nods, his arms tightening around her again. “You’ve got me, baby. Always got me.”

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

thank you for reading! if you did like it, a reblog would be really appreciated as well as any feedback/comments you might have! you can find more of my writing on my masterlist.

[pascalpanic]

At Last (Frankie Morales x gn!Reader)

Summary: you, Frankie, and your fur baby go camping! Little does Frankie know what you have planned.

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: flirting, innuendo, alcohol, food, language, otherwise, this is toothaching fluff!

A/N: SAMMY MY BELOVED @sanchosammy GAVE ME THIS IDEA! I hope it’s as cute as I think it is :) also, Charlie (Frankie’s pup) isn’t involved in this fic but she is still part of the fam :)

Pine trees surround you on either side, tall and majestic. You can see the blue-gray sky patching through the canopy; the clouds are leaving, but some linger a little longer to clog up the sky. The air is warm and slightly humid, but a wonderful breeze rustles through the trees and rushes across your bare arms. Your trail shoes squelch underfoot in the damp ground. You sigh, totally content with this moment. 

Frankie’s flannel is tied around his waist, leaving him in his khaki cargo pants and t-shirt. A couple of curls peek out from under his ball cap, turning into little ringlets at the nape of his neck. He walks in front of you on the trail, his boots pressing prints into the soft ground. His back profile is beautiful, even with the large camping pack, and you can’t help but grin. 

Foxtrot embodies her name- Frankie is holding her leash, and the auburn and white dog trots up ahead of him, sniffing along the mulched and muddied path. The air smells of humidity that’s just passed over and that wonderful accompanying petrichor. Fox’s white paws are surely getting dirtied, but that’s only to be expected. You don’t care, too excited to watch your boyfriend and dog walk ahead of you. 

Frowning at the bend of Frankie’s back, you catch up and take his free hand. “Let me carry something, baby.”

“No,” he shakes his head, lacing his fingers through yours. “You have important cargo,” he teases and pats your back lightly. 

Strapped to your back, in a backpack-style blue case, is your ukulele. One hand carries the cooler, slung over your shoulder, filled with food and drinks for tonight. Frankie carries the heavy-duty stuff- the tent, stakes, more essential supplies. “At least let me take Fox.”

Her red ears perk up at her name and she stops, turning and growing excited, as if she forgot you were there. “Yeah, hi Foxy!” You coo as she runs towards you, jumping with her front paws in the air in excitement. “Yeah, you love it out here, don’t you?” You ask her in a baby voice, scratching behind her ears as she circles around your legs and prevents you from moving. Frankie drops her leash in order to prevent your legs from being tourniqueted by it, and it drags behind her in the mud. 

When you pick up the leash, it’s sludgy and damp, but you don’t mind too much. You continue the hike forward and Frankie and Fox follow at your sides, both beaming ear to ear and enjoying the serenity of the woods. 

Frankie picked the campsite, so he’s technically leading the way, but the trail is fairly straightforward, meaning you don’t need to be led. Frankie points out wildlife here and there: chipmunks, rabbits, cardinals and chickadees flitting through the pine-needled canopy. He’s in his element, and you’re in yours: with him. 

The mud gives way to drier ground ahead, and luckily enough Frankie pulls off to the side. It’s the perfect spot, with a beautiful little field of wildflowers. “Welcome to your five-star hotel for the night, babe,” he assures you and kisses you softly, making you giggle and kiss him back with excitement and a pinch of nerves in your stomach.

There’s a routine the two of you have silently adopted. Frankie sets up the small tent, just big enough for the two of you and Fox. You gather kindling, set up a fire, arrange the chairs and all-around make the outdoor area of your campsite ideal.

Frankie is a man of patience, truly, but sometimes the little portable tent proves to be a challenge. You allow Fox off of her leash, knowing she’s well-trained enough to stick around the site, and find your way to the mess of fabric and stakes covering the man. “Baby. For the love of God, we do this all the time,” you tease.

“Well, something must’ve fucking changed,” he grumbles as he fiddles with the parts. You get on your knees on the soft bed of dried pine needles and help him out. With your help, the tent takes no time at all to put up, and you stand and brush off your hands. Frankie gives you a sheepish smile and you give him a kiss. 

The two of you don’t need to converse while you set things up. You enjoy the woods, the rustling of the wind and chirping of birds. Fox curls up on the blanket you set out for her, and when everything is done, you unzip the cooler and hand Frankie a beer. “Well, now we’re all set.”

“Let the fun begin,” he chuckles and twists the top open, clinking his glass bottle to yours. 

“So, Francisco,” you smile over at him. “What do you have planned for this trip? I know you have some sort of plan laid out up there,” you tease and rap on his head softly, through the trucker cap resting there.

He blushes a little and looks away. “I don’t always have a plan.”

“Hey.” You turn his face back to yours by the chin. “You do and I absolutely love it. Now tell me about it, please, baby.”

Frankie removes his hat and runs a hand through his curls. “Well, I figured we could start the fire soon, cook dinner over it. It’ll get dark pretty quick. Then hang around the campfire, maybe play some of the games I packed.”

“Is a quiet tumble in the tent on the cards?” You ask him with a teasing grin, nudging his side. 

He shrugs, jokingly, as if he’s considering it. “I don’t see why we couldn’t squeeze that in. We only have, oh… three hours of time in between these plans.”

“Then we’ll use all three of those hours,” you shrug and steal a kiss, smiling into his lips. “I love you. And I love it out here.” You were never a nature person before Frankie, usually preferring indoors adventures to hiking or camping. Frankie looks like he belongs out here, and he probably thinks he does. Even if you didn’t enjoy the fun of outdoors adventuring, you’d have at least one thing to enjoy: Frankie’s excitement and enthusiasm over it. “Thank you.”

Fox is curled at Frankie’s feet, and he bends over to scratch her ears, running his fingers through her scruffy fur. “Thank you, baby. For coming out here with me and putting up with all of this. I couldn’t ask for a better adventure partner.”

-

You do, indeed, cook dinner over the fire. You’d prepped all kinds of chopped vegetables to be grilled over an open flame, and had additionally packed pre-cooked hot dogs as well as s’mores ingredients. Frankie is a firm believer that it’s not camping if it doesn’t include graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows.

Luckily, your Frankie is a skilled griller. He always is, always has been. He takes care of the cooking part, since you prepared everything else, though he lets you hold the hot dogs over the fire to roast. “I feel like I’m at camp again,” you laugh as you slowly rotate the food over the fire.

Frankie is taking charge of the vegetables, expertly. They’re getting a beautiful char, you notice. “It’s much better, because you don’t have to sneak around to make out with your boyfriend at night, huh?” He teases and tosses you a grin. 

“But I get my boyfriend all to myself,” you nod and confirm. “And I have my baby girl with me,” you coo as you rub Foxtrot’s head, where she’s resting at your side.

The meal is delicious, of course, when the two of you work together and each used your strong skills. Frankie slips bites to Fox when he thinks you’re not looking, of course, but it’s endearing, the way the dog’s big brown eyes mirror those looking down at her.

There’s not much conversation while you eat, mouths occupied with food rather than speaking. That’s alright. There’s plenty of time for that tonight and tomorrow.

The sun starts sinking lower when Frankie brings the marshmallows from the tent. “Guess what time it is!” He exclaims as he rips open the bag, skewering two marshmallows and holding them over the fire.

Like he’s a skilled griller, he’s also a wonderful marshmallow-toaster. Frankie toasts yours to perfection, just the way you like it, and you do your part as the s’more-sandwicher, shoving the marshmallow between the graham crackers and chocolate.

There’s no signal out here, and you agreed neither of you would use your phones unless an emergency happened. Frankie frowns as he sees your phone. “Hey. Put that away. Don’t use that.”

“There’s an emergency, Frankie,” you whine, opening the camera app with one hand and eating the sugary dessert with the other.

“And what’s that?” He asks, taking a bite of his s’more. 

Strings of gooey marshmallow connect the sandwich to his lips, making him laugh, and you snap a picture at the perfect moment: Frankie’s closed-lipped smile as his s’more falls apart on him. “You’re too damn cute, that’s the emergency,” you laugh and set the photo as your lock screen, tossing it away.

Frankie’s schedule actually worked itself naturally. After the s’mores and a wet-wipe hand-washing to remove the endless marshmallow from Frankie’s hands, you find yourself sitting around the fire, no light left in the sky. When you look up, all you can see is inky blue and pine trees, the stars yet to make their nightly rise. 

“I have a song request,” Frankie asks and raises his hand like a child in a classroom.

“Yes, Francisco?” You tease as you walk to the tent, grabbing your ukulele and returning with it, sitting back in your lawn chair with it. “Hit me.”

“Only The Good Die Young by Billy Joel. No, wait- Country Roads.”

Laughing, you noodle around with the strings for a moment. You knew this moment would come, and here’s the opportunity. “I can play all of those and more, Frankie. We’ll do the Billy Joel first,” you nod decisively.

Frankie sounds like the forest wolves at night when he sings along. He absolutely howls, taken away by the song, taken to a place where his voice isn’t just a little on the rougher end of good. He belts the words and dances along in his seat, like you do.

Then Country Roads. You thought the last one was bad before you hear Frankie’s booming voice echoing the ballad of West Virginia through seemingly the entire preserve. But you don’t care in the slightest. You sing along proudly, strumming your ukulele harder and harder until you’re sure you can’t add any more volume before snapping a string. 

After the song, you pause and rest your ukulele flat on your lap. “Frankie, baby. Can I ask you something?”

He nods, smiling over at you. “Any time. What’s up, buttercup?” He asks, taking one of your hands and kissing the knuckles.

“Will you marry me?” You ask. The question is straight and to the point, blunt and honest. Your face conveys your hope, and the grandiose speech follows. “I love you beyond belief, Frankie. I love you almost as much as you love these woods. I know you love me too. I just… think it’s time. We’ll be perfect for it. What do you say?”

You can feel Frankie’s slightly-chapped lips curve into a smile against your hand. He’s grinning and then he’s crying, soft water droplets forming in the corners of his eyes. “Of course I’ll marry you,” he grins, grabbing your ukulele and setting it aside.

Once the ukulele is on the ground, Frankie stands in front of your chair and lifts you to your feet, kissing you with such fervor you can’t help but gasp. When he breaks away, you smile, eyes watering too. “I know it wasn’t the most elegant of proposals, but-”

“It was the most us,” Frankie cuts you off with a teary grin. “I would be honored to be your husband, my love. You really want me enough to do that?”

“Frankie,” you coo, cupping his face in your hand. “You are the best husband I could ever want, could ever dream for,” you assure him and kiss his nose gently.

The man laughs, wiping his tears away. “Then let’s get married,” he whoops excitedly, then lets out an excited shout to the woods. “We’re getting married!”

You laugh at his loud and booming declaration, but nothing can detract you for the love and joy in your heart.

When you and Frankie settle down in your chairs again, you pick up the ukulele and finish off with one last beautiful song that you and Frankie have always adored, with a title that truly fits: At Last.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles

[imherongraystairstrash]

Hey I love your writing so much!! Could you consider writing a fic about Alexander’s birth and more importantly everyone’s reaction and first time meeting him. Gideon,Will,Jem,Tessa, Charlotte, Sophie, Henry and all of his cousins and Anna and Kit of course I feel like it would be so sweet

Thank you so muchh!! It ended up being too long haha! Since you asked for the TID reactions, I split up the fic so that my response to this ask will include them. Here’s part 1, in case you want to read it

Defender of Men (pt 2) [Alex Lightwood birth]:

“He’s absolutely precious.” Sophie said, holding Alexander in her arms. Eugenia stood behind her, smiling widely at her new cousin. 

“I want a baby,” Barbara said mournfully, from where she was kneeling beside Sophie, fixing Alexander’s hat.

Gideon choked on what must have been air.

“I’m not going to get myself pregnant, father.” Barbara said, rolling her eyes “I just said I wanted one.”

“Well, you can take care of your cousin until then.” Cecily said with a wink. “We just saved you another five years, Gideon.”

“I think ten years would be more reasonable.” Gideon said. 

“Papa!” Barbara said, her tone still hushed in the presence of the baby.

Gideon smiled at Barbara.

“Has he opened his eyes yet, Aunt Cecy?” Thomas asked. He and Kit were sitting on the floor beside her. 

Cecily smiled down at him, “Yes, darling. They’re a darker blue than Kit’s. I want to say they’re the same color as Anna’s, but I’m not quite sure.”

“Will’s never going to let you hear the end of that.” Gideon said to Gabriel.

“You’re right,” Will said, James in tow. “Lightworm’s descendants are going to look like me.”

“Technically, they’ll look like Cecy.” Sophie said.

“Who just so happens to look like me.” Will said, before coming to a stop behind Sophie and smiling down at the newborn baby.

“Isn’t he adorable?” Sophie said. 

Will nodded, his smile growing wider. “Good job, Lightwood.” He said, clapping Gabriel on the back. “You too, Cecy.” Will said, looking over at her.

Cecily saluted him from where she was. 

James came over and smiled down at his new cousin.

“Oh, I’m hogging the baby.” Sophie said, standing up, ready to let the next person hold him.

“Do bring him here so that James and Thomas can hold him.” Cecily said.

Thomas’ eyes widened. “Oh, I’ve never held a baby before. Best let James do it.” 

“I’ve never held a baby either.” James said.

Cecily laughed, “I guess it’s time to learn.”

Both boys looked equally dismayed and terrified.

“It’s not hard,” Sophie said, kneeling down beside them. 

Cecily and Sophie taught them how to place their hands, and, despite it being his first time, Thomas held Alexander perfectly. When Cecily put Alexander in Jamie’s arms, he was clearly nervous and tense. Cecily ruffled his hair.

“Good, Jamie bach.” She said smiling. “You boys are naturals.”

“I’d even go as far as to say that they’re better than the girls.” Sophie said, smiling.

“I heard that!” Eugenia said. 

…

By the time Tessa and Lucie came, the room wasn’t as full since Anna, Barbara and Eugenia had gone to do lord knew what. They were always disappearing, saying they were discussing things that were of importance to them. Sophie and Cecily always joked that they were planning a revolution. Well, half-joked.

“Oh, Cecily, he’s beautiful.” Tessa said, fixing the baby’s blanket.

“And lazy.” She added. “He’s been asleep this entire time.”

Will raised his eyebrows at Gabriel. “Maybe he’s tired of having to deal with his father.”

“Lucie wouldn’t stop crying when she was born, maybe she was disappointed when she realized her father was the way he was.” Gabriel cut back.

Cecily and Tessa rolled their eyes at them in synchronization, like they do whenever their husbands are around each other. 

“What’s his name?” Tessa asked.

“Alexander.” Cecily said, proudly. 

Tessa smiled wide. “Oh, I do love that name. It reminds me of when I went to school in New York. Alexander Hamilton, the United States founding father.” She added the last sentence after receiving a couple of confused looks. 

“Aunt Cecy, can I babysit?” Lucie said. Before Cecily could respond, Lucie spoke again. “On second thought, I can barely take care of myself. Perhaps it is not the best idea to leave me in charge of a child.”

“You can take care of him while we’re in the same room.” Gabriel said with a smile.

Lucie nodded eagerly. “Yes! Wonderful idea, Uncle!” 

…

The rest of the day had been a flurry of fawning over the new baby and congratulations. Gabriel and Cecily had gone to surprise Charlotte and Henry, with the baby in a basket, tucked under a mountain of warm blankets, to keep out the cold. 

When Henry opened the door, his eyes widened in surprise and then extreme excitement. 

“What ho! Cecily! You’ve given birth!” 

“Yes!” Cecily laughed.

“How wonderful, absolutely wonderful! Oh, do come in; Charlotte will be ecstatic!” 

Charlotte was ecstatic indeed. When she saw the baby, her hands fluttered to her chest and then she came over to kiss both Cecily and Gabriel on the cheek. 

“You crazy children! We would have come to your house. You didn’t have to bring the baby here.” 

“We wanted to surprise you.” Cecily said. 

Charlotte took her shoulders and sat her down. “And you should be resting.” 

“Does that mean you don’t want to see him?” Gabriel asked, lifting Alexander in his arms.

“Of course I do,” Charlotte said, laughing. She went over to Gabriel and looked at the baby. 

Her face softened immediately. 

“Oh, how precious,” she said, brushing his pink cheek. 

Gabriel brought the baby down a little bit so that Henry could see better. Cecily smiled at the way Gabriel showed the baby to them excitedly. 

“Have you decided on the name?” Henry asked. 

“Alexander,” Gabriel said, placing him in Charlotte’s arms.

Alexander fussed a little bit at being transferred from his father’s arms to somebody else’s, but then quieted down once he realized Charlotte was just as warm, if not, more warm than Gabriel was. 

“Alexander Lightwood.” She said, “he’s absolutely perfect.”

…

“Am I better at holding babies than James?” Matthew asked, looking up at Cecily.

Cecily shook her head, smiling. “I thought you were supposed to love your parabatai.”

“I do! I love to compete with him.”

“Either way, I’m not telling you who’s better.”

“It’s alright, Aunt. I know it’s me.” Matthew said, looking back down at the baby. 

Cecily nudged his head with the palm of her hand affectionately. 

…

When Alex had finally woken up again he was in Henry’s arms and he stared at him like wide eyes, blinking slowly.

Gabriel and Charlotte were talking about something in the other corner of the room. Matthew was leaning over Henry’s bath chair, his forearms braced on the handles. 

“Who’s that, Alex?” Cecily asked. “Is it your Uncle Henry?”

Alexander made the softest of noises. 

Cecily kissed her son’s head. 

“Little Alex. You have quite a lot of names to remember.” Henry said. 

Cecily laughed. 

Quite a lot of names to remember, indeed. But at least he’ll know that behind each of those names, are people who love him and would follow him for his first milestones:

His first words were “nana” and “-it” because of his siblings. 

His first steps were into his cousin Thomas’ arms.

His first laugh was with his father, his second with his uncle Will, though it was Matthew who made him laugh the most. 

His first of smiles was when his mother was hugging him and when Barbara and Eugenia spoke with him, pretending they understood everything.

He’d play shadowhunters his all of his cousins, though specifically with “Mames” and “Ucie”. He’d go on walks with his parents, Aunt Sophie and Uncle Gideon. 

There were many other memories, all with his large family, all of whom he loved very much, and who all loved him in return.

Tagging: @tsccreatorsnet  @atla-lok143  @rinadragomir  @youngreckless  @autumnangel20  @julemmaes  @cupcakesandkittens  @no-scones-allowed  @fictionally-fantastic  @stxr-thxif  @writeforjordelia  @itsdaughterofthemoon  @jordeliasupremacy  @cordelia-cardale  @will-effing-herondale  @axoloteca  @heronstairs2014  @ilovemanicures  

If you want to be on my tag list, or if you changed your url recently and your not in the tag list anymore, let me know! Oh, an if you asked to be on the tag list and you’re not on it, please tell me (I’m very absentminded haha)

[shezzaspeare]

Pilot/Episode 1: Patching Things Up With Pastiche & Fanfiction

Hi, hello, and the wait is finally over! My name is Blessie, and welcome to the first episode webisode log installation I've decided to call these things an episode for now because why not also let me know what do you actually call these things episode of The Science of Fanfiction, where we take a closer look into our beloved works of fanon because we've all got plenty of time to spare till Season 5. Before I continue, I would like to thank everyone who's liked and reblogged the last few posts before this one. It means a lot for a small and growing Tumblr user like me, and your support is something I cherish more than my modules. You guys rock!

Anyways, like with most things, we have to talk about the boring and bland stuff before we proceed with the fun stuff. For today, we are going to settle the difference between a couple of things: first being the confusion between pastiche and fanfiction; then the distinctions between tropes, clichés, and stereotypes, which we'll tackle the next time. It's important for us to establish their true meanings in order for us to really understand what fanfiction truly is, even if it's merely just a work done for the fandom. I know – it's boring, it's something that shouldn't be expounded that much, but I believe that all forms of writing (unless it's plagiarised) is a work of art — and fanfiction is not something we always talk about. I hope that by the end of this, you'll learn about what they really are as much as I did. Let's begin to talk about the—

[Image ID: A flashback of John (left) and Sherlock (right) finding an elephant (not in the screen) in a room in The Sign of Three. End ID]

. . . I did say that this GIF will always have to make an appearance here, didn't I?

So, just as with Sherlock Holmes, all other works of fiction have their own pastiches and fanfiction, and many more original works out there have taken inspiration from them to create their own books. Although they've gained popular attention, this will not be possible if they did not have taken inspiration from the materials their writers had at the time.

[Image ID: Various actors as Dracula. Jeremy Brett in 'Dracula' (1978) (upper left), Adam Sandler in a voice role for 'Hotel Transylvania' (2012) (upper right), Gary Oldman in 'Dracula' (1992) (lower left), and Bela Lugosi in 'Dracula' (1933) (lower right). End ID]

For instance, Bram Stoker's 'Dracula' (the second most adapted literary character, next to the consulting detective himself) has been portrayed on the screen over 200 times — from Gary Oldman to Adam Sandler — and has spawned off numerous books and pastiches of its own such as Stephen King's 'Salem's Lot'. Its cultural impact served as a basis of how we see vampires today, since some characteristics of the Count were made by Stoker himself. Stoker's creation is the brainchild of his predecessors and inspirations.

[Image ID: Vlad the Impaler (left) and a book cover of 'Carmilla' by J. Sheridan Le Fanu (right). End ID]

Other than the ongoing hysteria over dead back then and the existing vampire folklore, Stoker also took his inspirations from the published books on vampires he had at hand. He is said to have taken inspiration from Vlad the Impaler, a Romanian national hero known allegedly for having impalement as his favourite method of torture. He is also said to have been inspired by the J. Sheridan Le Fanu's 'Carmilla', a Gothic lesbian vampire novella that predates Dracula by 26 years. I could go on, but hey, we're going back to Sherlock Holmes now before I deviate any further. However, if you want to know about Dracula's literary origins, I suggest you watch Ted-ED's videos about the subject matter such as this one or this one.

Very much like Stoker, ACD didn't just conceive Holmes on his own. He took his own inspirations from what he had available at the time.

[Image ID: Dr Joseph Bell (left) and Edgar Allan Poe (right). End ID]

As we all know, ACD's biggest inspiration for Sherlock Holmes was one of his teachers at the Edinburgh University, Joseph Bell. He was famous for his powers of deduction, and he was also interested in forensic science — both characteristics which Holmes is greatly known for. He also drew inspiration from Edgar Allan Poe's sleuth, C. Auguste Dupin ('The Purloined Letter' & 'Murders in Rue Morgue'). As ACD himself has said at the 1909 Poe Centennial Dinner: "Where was the detective story until Poe breathed life into it?" Some other writers he took after are Wilkie Collins, Émile Gaboriau, and Oscar Wilde.

Now, what does this say about us Sherlockians/Holmesians (depending if you're the coloniser or the one that was colonised)? Basically, ACD laid the groundwork for us with Sherlock Holmes: his humble abode 221B that he shares with his flatmate Dr. John Watson, his adventures, memoirs, return, casebook, last vow, and all that. Now that we have this material at hand, we can now make our own versions, takes, or even original stories featuring the characters of the Canon. Our inspiration comes from ACD's Sherlock Holmes, and we now get the chance to make our very own stories/conspiracy theories about them.

As I have mentioned earlier, Sherlock Holmes is the most adapted literary character in history. He has been adapted in over 200 films, more than 750 radio adaptations, a ballet, 2 musicals; and he's become a mouse, a woman, a dog, even a bloody cucumber. On top of all that are numerous pastiches and fanfics, and finally, we have arrived at the main topic of our post!

Fanfiction and pastiche are often confused together since they have three common elements: they take after the original work, they usually use the characters in that original work, and more often than not do are they set in that same time frame/period or not long after that. The common misconception is that pastiche are printed fanfiction, which is only partly true. While pastiche is definitely fanfiction in some ways and vice versa, there are fanfictions out there that aren't necessarily classified as pastiche that have been published.

Let's get on with our definition of terms to clear up the confusion a little more. Pastiche, according to Literary Terms, is:

. . . a creative work that imitates another author or genre. It’s a way of paying respect, or honor, to great works of the past. Pastiche differs from parody in that pastiche isn’t making fun of the works it imitates – however, the tone of pastiche is often humorous.

A good example of a pastiche is Sophie Hannah's 'The Monogram Murders', which is her take from Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot.

[Image ID: A book cover of 'The Monogram Murders' by Sophie Hannah. End ID.]

Although this was a commission from Christie's estate, it's still considered as a pastiche as:

It's takes after Christie's writing style;

It is set in the early years of Poirot's career (1929), which is still within the time frame that the author wrote him in;

It features Poirot and;

It pays respect to Christie in a sense that it stays true to her (Christie) characters and way of storytelling.

Meanwhile, our good and slightly unreliable friend Wikipedia defines fanfiction as:

. . . is fictional writing written by fans, commonly of an existing work of fiction. The author uses copyrighted characters, settings, or other intellectual property from the original creator(s) as a basis for their writing. [It] ranges from a couple of sentences to an entire novel, and fans can both keep the creator's characters and settings and/or add their own. [ . . . ] [It] can be based on any fictional (and sometimes non-fictional) subject. Common bases for fanfiction include novels, movies, bands, and video games.

To avoid any copyright infringement issues if I ever use a popular fanfic in the fandom, we'll use my (unfinished and unpopular) Sherlock Wattpad fic, 'Play Pretend'. You can read it here.

[Image ID: The second self-made book cover of Blessie/shezzaspeare's 'Play Pretend'. End ID]

Why is it considered a fanfiction and not a pastiche?

It takes after an adaptation of Sherlock Holmes (BBC Sherlock) which is a TV show, not the ACD canon itself;

The author (in this case myself) uses her own writing style and does not take after the original story's style;

Although it is set well in modern-day London and after Season 4, it also features scenes decades before the actual fanfic is set and outside of London;

I added a considerable number of characters, i.e. siblings to canon characters;

I had my own take some of the canon characters' personality especially after the events of Sherrinford;

It is written by a fan – myself. It is a work of fan labour and;

It is only a work of fanon, and isn't likely going to be considered by the show as its writing style is different from the actual show.

To put it simply, you can have more freedom in a fanfiction as it does not necessarily restrict you to follow or take after the original stories. Alternate universes (AUs) such as Unilock and Teenlock are perfect examples of this thing.

So can a pastiche be classified as fanfiction? Yes.

Can a fanfiction be classified as pastiche? Not all the time.

What's the difference? While yes, they share the basics, pastiche is technically leans more onto the original work's fundamental elements whereas fanfiction is a broader range of works inspired by the original work but doesn't necessarily follow all or any of its fundamental elements.

In order for us to understand it more, I'll give another example.

[Image ID: The 'Enola Holmes' title card (upper left) and Henry Cavill as its Sherlock holmes (upper right). Underneath it is a a scene from the opening titles of BBC Sherlock (lower left) and Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock Holmes in A Scandal In Belgravia. (lower right) End ID]

Most of you are familiar with these 21st-century adaptations of Holmes: the 2020 adaptation of Nancy Springer's Enola Holmes books and BBC Sherlock, which needs no further explanation – but for those who don't know, it's basically Holmes and the gang if they were alive today. I specifically chose these two as they are the ones that I believe would get my points across best. Though both are considered as wonderful pastiches with a well-rounded cast and awesome visuals, if we break them down bit by bit, we'll see which one is more of a pastiche and which one is more of a fanfic. (Yes, I know they're both screen adaptations. However, as Enola Holmes was based on the books and BBC Sherlock's fanfiction has the show's scenes written out in most fanfics, hear me out.)

They share these characteristics of a pastiche:

They feature characters from the Canon (Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, and Lestrade);

They have additional characters added by the writers (Including but not limited to Molly Hooper, Eurus Holmes, and Philip Anderson for BBC Sherlock while Enola Holmes has Lord Tewkesbury, Eudoria Holmes, and Enola herself) and;

They pay respect to the original Canon as their stories are based on the cases (BBC Sherlock) or simply what was going on around them (Enola Holmes).

They also share these characteristics of a fanfic:

They are made by enthusiasts of Sherlock Holmes (Moffat has called himself and Mark Gatiss 'Sherlock Holmes geeks', while Nancy Springer's Enola Holmes books are not just one or two but six);

They follow a common trope (we'll discuss these tropes in the following episodes) that goes on in the fandom (Sherlock's Sister & Modern AU)

They are based on a fictional subject (Sherlock Holmes);

They used characters and story elements that are copyrighted by the author/author's estate (fun fact: prior to the production of Enola Holmes, the Conan Doyle Estate filed a lawsuit against Springer & Netflix over Sherlock's emotions since he was more 'sympathetic' than he was portrayed in the Canon – this was later dismissed by both parties) and;

Their writing styles don't necessarily follow ACD's.

Despite these similarities, there are very obvious differences between the two that separates them from being a pastiche and a fanfiction.

Enola Holmes embodies pastiche more as it doesn't stray far away from the original elements of the Canon. It's still set in Victorian England. While Springer added characters of her own and definitely twisted the Canon to suit her series, she didn't necessarily place them out of the social construct that was going on around the characters. It follows ACD's writing style more as Enola Holmes' setting still remains within the Canon's original setting.

Meanwhile, we can safely say that BBC Sherlock is a work of fanfiction. While it did give us The Abominable Bride, the main series focused on Holmes and Watson in 21st-century England, which is drastically different from Victorian England. There are phones, black cabs, and cellphones — things which ACD Sherlock Holmes doesn't have. It also diverted from the Canon in the characters themselves, which is mostly seen in the names: Henry Baskerville became Henry Knight, Charles Augustus Milverton became Charles Augustus Magnussen, the H in Dr Watson's name stood for Hamish and Sherlock's full name is actually William Sherlock Scott Holmes. They also changed the personalities of some Canon characters: Mary was actually an ex-assassin, Mrs Hudson was an exotic dancer who drove a kick-ass sports car, Irene Adler is a dominatrix, to name a few. Moffat and Gatiss created a world of their own featuring the characters of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, which is really what most of us fanfic writers do with Mofftiss' rendition of Holmes.

In conclusion: while pastiche and fanfiction could have been the same thing, they're actually not. There's more to them that just printed fanfiction or pastiche e-books, and we all should take some time to see and observe them in a closer perspective.

And that's it for our first episode! I hope you enjoyed it. It was a lot fun for me to write this, especially now that I'm only starting. I would also like to note that while intensive research has been done on this series, some parts of this comes from my own observation and opinion, which may vary from yours. I am very much open to criticism, as long as it is said in a polite and civil manner. I'm still young, and to be educated as I go is something that could really help me with this series.

Like and reblog this you like it. It helps out a lot. Be sure to follow me as well and the tags underneath if you want to see more of TSoF.

See you soon!

Blessie presents – The Science of Fanfiction: A Study In Sherlock (2021) • Next

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SOURCES • Pinterest, Google Images, Wikipedia, Literary Terms, Conan Doyle Estate, Definitions, The Sherlock Holmes Book, and Google

[quarantineddreamer]

@zutaramonth Day 6: From Other’s POV

(Aka B writes a crack fic, or ‘The REAL Ember Island Playwright Tells All’.) 

From the moment I had heard of the Avatar’s return I had known there was a story to be found there, but the story I had set out to write had not been the story that I returned home with. 

A forbidden romance! Fire and water, sun and moon, opposites attract, enemies to lovers! A journey of redemption! A story of love! How could I not ship it?

I had spent the better part of a year on the heels of the Avatar. My travels had taken me from the South Pole to the North, from Ba Sing Se to here. 

I breathed in the familiar smells of the Ember Island Playhouse --that odd combination of burning dust under hot theatre lights and salt in the air from the nearby ocean. It was the smell of home. 

My whole life I’d eagerly awaited this moment. Opening night. Of my play. My play! Now that it was finally here my nerves had caught up with me and my heart pounded frantically in my chest as I pushed aside the heavy fabric of curtains to duck backstage. 

“The house is opening in ten,” I said to the first person I saw, old man Ren, checking the positioning of props. He had been handling all the technical effects for the Playhouse for as long as I could remember.

For as long as I could remember Ren had also been a man of few words, perhaps a habit born out of a lifetime spent as a backstage crew member. He nodded in reply and continued arranging items on the prop table. 

I was probably being a nuisance, but I couldn’t help it. I was the youngest ever to have my work produced on this stage --playwright Shiori had a nice ring to it. 

Of course, much to my dismay things had been out of my hands after the first few rehearsals. Pu-On Tim, the director of the Ember Island Players, had insisted my constant input was only slowing things down. ‘Let me handle the story from here. Trust us.’

From the moment I had heard of the Avatar’s return I had known there was a story to be found there, but the story I had set out to write had not been the story that I returned home with. 

A forbidden romance! Fire and water, sun and moon, opposites attract, enemies to lovers! A journey of redemption! A story of love! How could I not ship it?

The pirates had told me the banished Fire Nation Prince had worn the waterbender’s necklace around his wrist like a talisman. 

Aunt Wu the Fortune Teller had confessed to me that the girl from the Southern Water Tribe was destined to have a ‘great romance’ and marry a ‘powerful bender’. ‘The Avatar asked about his fortune too, I think he hoped that I would tell him he was fated to be with the girl, but I could tell he was not the one I had sensed in her future.’

The bounty hunter, June, had shrugged when I asked about the Avatar, but remembered Prince Zuko with a laugh, ‘He wanted help finding his girlfriend.’ 

In the South Pole an old man had a tale for me that he had received directly from Katara herself, of the night of the siege. She had laughed telling him of her battle against the firebender on the ice, and laughed even harder when she repeated the prince’s melodramatic line, ‘You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun!’ I knew I’d be borrowing that line for my play.

By that time I had begun to feel like I was neglecting my duties as a storyteller. I had become distracted, paying more attention to Zuko and Katara than the Avatar himself, so I had endeavoured to refocus...

In Ba Sing Se I paid a Dai Li agent for information about what had happened when Princess Azula arrived. They had told me all about a strange energy during the battle in the crystal catacombs, about the heartbroken expression that had crossed Katara’s face when Zuko joined his sister in battle.

I had thought that might just be the end of the story, how silly I had been, imagining something between two people I had never met, nevermind the rumors that flew into the city that the Avatar was now dead. 

I had returned home. Weeks had gone by. And then came the news, the Avatar was alive, Prince Zuko had betrayed his father and left. 

Then a source sent word to me that a waterbender had attacked the retired Fire Nation Commander Yon Rha. I had paid a quick visit to the shell shocked man, and his story seemed to only back up my theory further that there was something between Prince Zuko and Katara. ‘She was accompanied by a boy with a scar on his face. She… I thought she was going to kill me, but she didn’t. I’ll never forget her face, like a spirit of death.’

I couldn’t have cared less about Yon Rha’s trauma (seemed like he deserved it if you ask me), but I did began to dream again of a tale of forgiveness and hope and love. Zuko was with her on that mission. Only Zuko...

The words had tumbled out of me in a matter of days, like I was possessed. It felt right, important, for a nation like mine, to receive a story such as that. 

Tonight, it would. 

I made my way to my seat and held my breath as the curtains rose.

When intermission came it was all I could do not to scream. What had they done? My beautiful story! It was a joke! They had taken all the emotion I had so carefully crafted, the tenderness, the trust, all the delicate, wonderful things and thrown it all away!

I sat for some time, considering all the ways in which I might get my revenge on Pu-on Tim who surely was responsible for this disaster. When a program drifted to the floor in front of me I scooped it up, only to find that my name was nowhere to be found on it. They ruined it -AND they stole it! 

I stood and began to march out of the playhouse, wishing it would burn to the ground behind me. 

And that was when I saw them. 

Instinctively, I recognized them. Characters in my mind brought to life… I’m sorry, I wanted to tell them. I’m sorry for this injustice. This isn’t how I wanted your story told. It’s not how it should be told...  

That would have been insane though, so instead I watched for a moment as Katara turned her gaze to the ocean before her, sighing, seeming frustrated.

Zuko leaned against the railing beside her. “Want to talk about it?” he asked.

“Not really,” Katara replied. 

His arm brushed hers and they both turned to each other. It felt suddenly as though they were in a world entirely different from my own...

I did not return to watch the rest of the play that night. It was clear it was not mine anymore anyways, but a few weeks later I attended the coronation ceremony of the new Fire Lord Zuko. 

I saw Katara standing beside him, proud, excited, happy. There was something different between them, stronger than even before. I had no idea who I could interview to back that idea up, but I didn’t need more evidence anyways. 

I just knew.

Zuko and Katara were meant to be, always had been, and always would be. 

[imthepunchlord]

Can you elaborate on the Guardian Nino + Turtle and Alya getting the fox?

I understand why you don't like the rest, I don't like em myself but why are those bad in your opinion?

Just curious.

I will acknowledge that these are nitpicks and they are mixture of my own frustrations. Frustration that the miraculous that are assigned to Alya and Nino do not fit them as characters, and with Fu now confirmed to have 15 more miraculous with him, people will still default to those and won’t even consider changing things up. 

We will start with Alya as Nino would be a more lengthy answer. And putting this under cut as Alya got a whole lot more lenghtier than I originally thought. 

Now, I can get the appeal of Alya with Fox. Visually, its one of the more clever color coding designs for a miraculous, you have her big on learning secrets and sharing them with the world, Fox could teach her the importance of secrecy, though would still match that curious nature. And Darkblade shows us that Alya cna be sneaky and use underhanded tactics. Mr Pigeon also adds to this as she was ready to do something about Chloe stealing Marinette’s design. And while not aggressive, Alya is still a very direct and driven character and Fox could help teach her some subtlety, and to put some distance between herself and things, though the Fox itself is a risk taking animal. It can be a challenge of smart vs confidence. 

So there is actual appeal to Alya having Fox, particularly in symbolism and growth. But...

We got to see that the Fox’s power is Mirage, and that Mirage was one illusion and not the multiple that Volpina had initially set up. It not only downgrades the Fox miraculous, but this sets up difficulty for Alya. Especially with Kwamibuster revealing that how elaborate and complex an illusion comes out can depend on the user, and ultimately confirms that Marinette would be a far better Fox than Alya. Power wise, this really doesn’t set up Alya as a good Fox at all... 

Having one illusion to use, you want to make sure its used well. So the Fox would be better matched with an elaborate complex thinker who can make complex illusions that will misdirect their audience. You also want a character who can be more background oriented, if you’re going to be an illusionist, you don’t want attention on yourself as you play your audience. A skilled illusionist like this could even trick an akuma into “accomplishing” their goal and give up the butterfly as they are satisfied. 

Alya though does not meet those qualifications, not to say she couldn’t learn and grow, but if you need an immediate good Fox to help you, there are better picks out there. Marinette, Felix, Luka, and Nino all would be solid Foxes as they are elaborate thinkers, and can settle to be more background oriented. 

Alya though isn’t an elaborate thinker, she’s a very direct instead, so much of her illusions wind up coming out direct and basic. They still serve their purpose and do a good enough job, but there could better matches. Only time I found myself impressed with her illusion was Miracle Queen where she was under influence... that’s not good. And while Alya herself is an imaginative character, she can rival Adrien in recklessness and can latch onto the first idea she likes whether its a good idea or not. You don’t want an illusionist who’s going to latch onto the first idea that comes to mind and consider their options more. 

Now, if Fox had Volpina’s multiple illusions, this can give Alya more leeway to make mistakes and change tactics and allow a learning curve; it’d also work if Fox had other powers that could match her more, like a power of evasion, foxfire, hypnosis, transformation, ect. But its one illusion and how complex it is depends on the user and its not a good match for Alya.

And then there’s the matter with Trixx, and by extension, the issue with Lila: Alya is shown by s3 to be an easily manipulated character. If you are easily manipulated, that doesn’t set you up as a promising Fox. 

We see that Trixx is friendly and diligent, but also very manipulative and easily manipulates Alya. This makes their dynamic less interesting to me, I’d rather Trixx be paired with someone who can match them more mentally. 

And then Lila. Now, I myself wasn’t intrigued by the Alya vs Lila that the fandom was interested in as Volpina didn’t do anything to set them up, and you got the Truth vs Lies theme but Alya is supposed to get the Fox which is an infamous liar? It doesn’t quite match up as a rivalry, and canon proceeded to shoot that down even more as Lila easily manipulatives Alya in the accursed episode that sparked off many of salt fics and is actually still going. How can I embrace Alya as a Fox when she’s easily manipulated and accepts things at face value? I’ll also acknowledge that this is a similar issue with Nino who is easily accepting of Lila’s lies. I still think he’d be a better Fox than Alya, but Fox isn’t my top pick for him either. 

And then there’s the issue with Rena Rouge. 

You got her skin getting lighter and she’s now “sexier” as Rena. This does not add to the appeal of Fox Alya at all and makes me want it even less. 

Over all, there are better miraculouses for her to play off her being a more direct character. And by default, all miraculous would teach the importance of secrecy. 

Cat would really work as its a direct and aggressive miraculous but also requires some thought to it. Plagg can also be a fun and good counterpart to Alya, as he isn’t as invested in hero duties as her and could help her learn to calm down a little. 

She’d be a good Bee, would be smart with Venom and can teach her to be smarter around akumas. Can’t say how good of a match her and canon Pollen would be, she may help Pollen grow or Pollen will end up as an enabler. Pollen just might need a big overhaul as a character though, that might be best. 

She’d be a really good Turtle, its really keeps that support role of watching out for her friends and allows her to be in the front lines where she’d like to be, and can teach her some form of caution or not to be so reckless around akumas. I think of the 5, she and Wayzz could be the most interesting duo as Wayzz is quick to question his humans and can prompt Alya to start rethinking her strategies instead of going with the first idea she likes. But this isn’t a duo that would butt heads a lot as Wayzz is shown to be adaptable and will learn his users personality quickly so he can match Alya in her playful nature. 

And technically should wait to see powers, but, going off symbolism and headcanons, there’s a few of the Zodiac who Alya could use. 

Tiger has a lot of the similar appeals to Fox but with added aggression that could work with Alya better. It’s an animal more associated with the shadows and stealth, but it is a top predator. So if you want Alya to learn more subtlety and stealth but keep that directness, Tiger would be good. It would also keep that clever color coding, and perhaps match it more as Alya has “stripes” in her design. And the kwami we see is shown very curious and bold, similar characteristics that Alya has. 

She’d work as a Dragon, its also very direct and can be aggressive, but not exactly in your face like Cat and Bee. And power wise it has options so can allow a learning curve and can allow her to be direct or more subtle. It would also match that want to help and be a hero, as in the old Zodiac lore, the Dragon didn’t make first place because she kept stopping to help people. Shown to be poised, Longg could help with self-control, though she’s shown to be a rambler so that might get on Alya’s nerves, but could prompt the kwami to be more straight to the point. 

Goat can work as its a very ambitious but gentle animal. It’s also very clever, they are infamous escape artists. If you want another animal that matches in being direct, helpful, and cunning; Goat’s a good pick. The kwami is shown gentle and nice, by default they’d be a friendly pair. 

Dog, which should be a mixture of the appeals of Goat and Turtle, direct and helpful, but also be ready to be a protector and have people’s back. And the kwami is shown to be very on task which will work with Alya nicely. 

And lastly, Pig. While known to be aggressive (especially as a boar), in terms of Chinese Zodiac lore, this animal is actually known to be easy going, a symbol of prosperity and wealth, and in terms of Zodiac personality, is incredibly helpful. Similarly to Turtle, could teach Alya to slow down, and it has promise to be another direct support miraculous. 

Now, Nino with Turtle and by extension, him being Guardian. 

Now Nino with Turtle was never a match that I was ever really interested in, and there was less appeal there than Alya getting Fox. Nino’s not color coded for it, and the things Turtle can teach are things Nino didn’t need to learn or already had. 

One of the earliest suggestions made for Turtle Nino was to teach maturity, as Bubbler suggest Nino likes to party. Only Nino himself, at least the very little shown, is an over all mature and responsible character. 

He went up to Gabriel to request hosting a party for Adrien. 

Pixelator shows him taking over Adrien’s assigned job and doing his homework at the same time. 

Santa Claws he’s one of many to go look for Adrien. 

Captain Hardrock, was helping prepare the boat for the band. 

Not to say he’s mature all the time (no teenager is), but he doesn’t need lessons in maturity from Turtle. Turtle can also teach bravery and standing your ground which Nino doesn’t need either. He’s not the bravest of characters as he’s less inclined to face akumas, but that itself is not a bad thing, its smart to not engage with akumas. And Nino himself doesn’t have issues standing his ground as he was unafraid of Chloe in Lady Wifi nor was he nervous about changing the script in Horrificator. 

Turtle could also teach caution, self-care, and being more conscious of others and helping them. Which Nino also really has down. Much like before, he does watch out for himself with akumas and largely aware of the danger they pose; and he is an already helpful and supportive character, readily having Adrien and Alya’s back. 

Another factor is that Turtle is a direct support miraculous. It needs a user who is ready to be on the front lines and Nino is not that sort of character. He’d be better fit for background support as that’s where he would prefer to be and his strengths can lie better there, especially with his want to be a director who is a more background leader than having the core attention. 

And looking back at Anansi, there’s nothing there to solidify Turtle Nino, cause ultimately, Carapace was pointless. You can entirely cut out Carapace and very little would change. He doesn’t help fight Anansi but was there to root LB in the boxing match. Yeah, Shelter cut the web but, why couldn’t Chat just turn his hand and Cataclysm the web? This was supposed to be an ep to give Nino a “manly boost” but as a miraculous hero he did ultimately nothing and didn’t even need to be there. 

Canon really failed in making me want Turtle Nino at all. Only saving grace is that its for temporary use and not permanent. 

And as for Guardian Nino, this was playing off the headcanon that Turtle = Guardian, simply because Fu as a Guardian had Turtle which was a headcanon I never latched onto and seemed weird to me that this one miraculous was always assigned to a Guardian. But playing off this headcanon and Turtle Nino being popular, Nino got guardianship. 

Which to me was a weird thing to latch onto as, canon wise, there was nothing between Nino and Fu as characters, and Nino himself is incredibly removed from akumas and miraculous. If a best friend HAD to be a Guardian and not Marinette or Adrien, Alya actually would’ve made sense. Her whole thing is learning identities, but also learning the importance of secrecy. And you could play off her being involved but not in the forefront of things, not having full focus and attention, and you do see Fu in the background when Alya is in focus. 

But over all, I was more for Guardian Marinette as she was the most involved in the miraculous work and duties, did her job well, and was involved with other people and knew their strengths and weaknesses, could see potential and know they’re reliable. I am glad canon went for Guardian Marinette, though I wish canon had her passing the earrings onto someone else as she doesn’t need two vital roles to shoulder nor does the Ladybug miraculous teach her anything new anymore and Tikki is not a good kwami for her either. 

But Nino as Guardian just because its a popular idea of him getting Turtle, just doesn’t click with me and feels random, both in miraculous assignment and in role. 

And much like Alya, there are better fitting miraculous for Nino. 

Canon wise, plus being color coded for it, Peafowl would be good. It’s meant to be background support and not in the heat of things, so that matches Nino’s comfort level. This is a miraculous that can also help Nino learn needed observation skills, as that’s one of his biggest issues as a character. Any feelings of distraught can go over Nino’s head, not just in the case of Horrificator, but Nino is also oblivious to Adrien’s discomfort around Chloe and Lila, and has offered to wingman for both once (though Chloe he was an akuma). So a miraculous tied to emotions can help Nino become more conscious of others’ feelings. And giving him beings to command and oversee, this can give him practice in directing as he’ll need to learn to direct his creations. Duusu and Nino would probably get along well, and maybe spice up his life a little as she’s affectionate and expressive. 

By extension and for similar reasons, Butterfly also works very well. This is more designed than canon Peafowl to be on the front lines, but it isn’t required. And can still help Nino learn to be more consciously aware of others and still give him practice in directing as he’s then working with actual people then beings of his own creation. Nooroo and Nino would also be a very sweet pair, though a lot calmer and a tad boring. 

Nino would be a good Fox. Party Crasher shows he’s an elaborate thinker, and again, this can work in his want to be a director as he can learn how to put on a show and sway his audience. Fox can also help Nino catch the smaller details that he can wind up overlooking. And its a miraculous not set to be on the front lines and still works in his favor. Only issue is a similar one to Trixx and Alya, I do see Trixx easily manipulating Nino which doesn’t make them an exactly appealing pair. 

Zodiac wise, playing off headcanons and symbolism. 

Nino would be a good Mouse, as an elaborate thinker, this miraculous is up his alley as it’s about literal mirco management. And can still teach him observation skills as he has to be aware of everything while small. The little bit we’re getting of the kwami is that she appears quite the mischief maker, so she can spice up Nino’s life and we could get a funny dynamic to see. 

Ignoring canon’s take and working more off the Moon Rabbit, Nino would be a solid Rabbit, especially as a healer and support, and still teach him to be more aware of his surroundings and be more active in helping people. 

He could be a good Dragon, as it doesn’t appear to need to be too directly involved, and like (Moon) Rabbit, could teach him to be more actively involved in helping others. I can also see him being more patient with Longg than Alya. 

He’d be a solid Snake as an elaborate thinker, and this can give him the time he needs to think and decide on a plan. And still backs him catching details and encourage him in observing people and his surroundings. I see him and Sass getting along. 

Honorable mentions that can apply but I either don’t see them teaching Nino much or could end up being too direct than he prefer: Ox, Tiger, Horse, Goat, Dog, Pig. 

Soooo those are my nitpicky issues with Nino and Alya and their respective miraculous, plus the idea of Guardian Nino. But these are my nitpicks and issues, if anyone likes these miraculous assignments and the idea of Guardian Nino, cool. Its just one of many popular fanon ideas and tropes that just isn’t for me and I’d rather something else, especially in terms of miraculous assignment. 

[therubyjailcell]

One Step At A Time, We'll Go On - [Remus & Dee bonding fic]

A/N: This is a short thing that I wrote as a small snipet of my characters in the RP I have going on currently with my boyfriend, @clownchecked​ ! And because it wasn't really an interaction per se, seeing as I'm playing both of them, I was originally planning on writing a short thing to send him, but it ended way longer than planned, so might as well make it a short fic. Enjoy~

Summary:

Virgil and Remus have been dating for a while now. Their relationship was kind of a mess, to be honest. Except Virgil got 3 kids, only one of which is Remus's, and his teen child is not liking Virgil having a new boyfriend. And Remus would like Dee not to feel trapped in their own house again.

TW: Reference to a dead character (Logan), family conflicts

Ship: Background Dukexiety, past Analogical

WC: 1804

Listen - Remus had made up his mind a while ago. He was pretty sure he'd known since they got together, actually, but he'd come to terms with the fact that he really wanted this and that he would do it for real, a while back still. The only other step before proposing to Virgil was, in Remus's opinion, Dee.

Hear him out: Dee might be Virgil's kid (and not the one who made the decision anyway), they still were very important and had to be taken into account. Especially since they were barely allowing Remus to be in the same room - though that was getting so much better lately, and Remus definitely had noticed how, even though they still wouldn't start the conversations, they actually did exchange convos with him now. Either way, he wanted them to know beforehand what he was planning, and to, y'know. Agree to it. Remus's goal had never been to make life harder for Virgil nor Dee, and he wanted to make sure Dee was okay, because despite them doing their best to show how much they despised him, Remus actually cared for Dee. And while they still had to learn that Virgil wanted Remus to move in with the rest of them, he figured they were smart enough to know what would follow, and that this would at least feel like they were in control of things. And yes, Remus would wait if Dee refused, he did want to show them they could at least trust that he would respect their boundaries.

All in all... He was so stressed about this. He had gotten a ring custom made to be unique, and to be honest, he hoped Dee would at least hear him out.

⠀

Dee wasn't stupid, alright? They could very much see that Remus was definitely a permanent feature now, and that he was spending more and more time over. They weren't sure how to feel about it. But at least the other didn't suddenly move in without warning, they supposed. When they heard a knock at the door that afternoon, while Virgil was busy outside, and Remus was keeping an eye on the littlings and them, they had a feeling that they weren't escaping this conversation. They were doing better though, nowadays. They could tolerate Remus talking to them (with them, even). They also noticed his efforts to keep in mind their boundaries, and how attentive Remus was to them. They had asked Virgil whether he was the one who told Remus about their tastes, and likes and dislikes, only to get a confused look from their dad as he asked why he would share personal stuff about Dee to Remus without asking Dee first. That left Dee with a confused feeling, between the need to cry, and the urge to yell. Anger, sadness, worry, regret, grief - they weren't sure exactly what was causing it, it felt too complicated to entangle it, but they sure felt it.

Either way, that knock meant tough convo ahead - the littlings were napping, and Remus usually worked during nap time, so. This was a real conversation. They weren't sure what to expect, honestly. They hesitantly told Remus to come in, anxiety rising, and Remus made sure to enter slowly, and not to go too far into the room.

"Heya Dee. Think we could have a small chat? Nothing bad, I promise - just wanted to know your opinion on something."

⠀

Dee kept quiet for a bit, before they nodded and sat on their bed, discreetly holding onto their plushy, hoping it'd comfort them. Worried kid. Remus definitely noticed, but kept quiet about it, and smiled encouragingly to them. He wanted them to be okay and feel like they could express themself, it was important. He hesitated for a bit, before nodding and giggling a little.

"I'm sorry, I'll be honest, I'm a bit nervous. But I want to preface it all by saying I truly want to know how you feel about the thing I wanna talk about, and that I promise I will respect your opinion, and I won't do anything to go against it. Okay?"

Dee kept quiet, before muttering a "okay", clearly unsure how to respond. It wasn't surprising, they didn't have much to go on, to be fair. Remus took a deep breath, fidgeting with the box in his pocket, before taking it out slowly. Dee was watching him attentively and frowned a bit, confused.

⠀

"I would like to ask you if you would be okay with me proposing to Virgil."

⠀

The sentence hung there in the air for a bit, Dee staring at Remus silently, their face visibly showing the whirlwind of emotions they were currently feeling. Remus felt bad immediately for dropping this like a bomb.

⠀

"I really love your dad, and I would like to marry him at some point. However, I don't want you to be upset by the news, or uncomfortable, or to feel like I'm imposing, so I wanted to ask you first, and well. I'll only follow through if you're okay with it. But if you're not, well... I don't mind. I can wait, it's okay." He smiled at the teen. "It's okay if you're upset, or if you don't want me to propose, I won't hold it against you I promise. And Virgil will never know about any of this either, promise."

Dee kept quiet, looking down as they tried to process everything. Remus wanted to propose... and he wanted them to agree to it first? That felt weird. And very much new, considering they hadn't exactly been warned ahead of time nor asked for their opinion much when it came to Virgil and Remus's relationship. Though the talk with Virgil had helped soften the repeated blows from before, it still felt bad, and Remus asking now felt foreign.

⠀

They kept quiet, and this seemed to worry Remus, because the other spoke again. "I promise this isn't me trying to impose nor me trying to force anything on you. And I really do not mind it if you'd rather I didn't propose right now. It's okay, and you're totally valid in how you feel. And I'm not trying to replace your dad either, and I know I'll never be him. Virgil will always love Logan, and I know that, and I promise I'm just asking because I want you to feel okay in your own house."

Oh. Right. Dee looked at their lap at that. Because a marriage led to moving in together, right? Dee hesitated at that, because they really weren't sure they wanted to live with Remus. Though it had gotten better, hadn't it? It wasn't like that at first. And, though they'd never admit to it to anyone else... Remus was kinda nice. He cared for Patton very much, and he took care of both Patton and Thomas, even though he only technically had to do that with Thomas - regardless of what Remus and Virgil, and Patton even, said, Dee still couldn't face the idea of Patton considering someone else his dad too, it was too hard. And even with them, Remus was nice and caring.

And they did have to admit that they didn't mind him being there as much, and it was kinda nice to have the house be... less empty sometimes. Because Remus was loud, and kinda everywhere, and honestly super clumsy, but also super mushy, it felt... familiar, though foreign. Kinda felt like home, sort of. Just slightly to the left. Not to mention how happy Virgil looked - though it always looked kinda upset whenever Dee was around, but that was mostly because Dee had been very awful about Remus, and that probably was why Virgil looked sad or worried so much. Or angry. Either way, Dee didn't like it much, though they felt like they couldn't stop themself from being like that.

⠀

Remus had kept quiet since Dee had looked down, and Dee was grateful he hadn't pushed. They considered their next words very carefully, trying to craft an answer that wouldn't feel like a lie, one way or another. But how do you answer a yes/no question when you have so many doubts? Dee wasn't sure. They felt conflicted. They looked at the other and Remus gave them an understanding smile. "It's okay, take your time - I'm not in a rush, I promise."

Dee hesitated before mumbling "Can I see it...? The ring?" and that made Remus lit up. It wasn't quite an answer, but it was something, and he was very happy about it. Especially since that something wasn't them yelling or throwing things at him. He went to sit on the floor next to Dee's bed, and opened the box to reveal a quite frankly beautiful ring. It was black, with purple and green shards in it, that seemed to shimmer and shine, though it was discreet enough, and definitely Virgil's style. Dee teared up - it was magnificent. Their dad would love it, and it clearly showed that Remus cared and paid attention. They gulped a little.

Remus looked at them at that, probably hearing them sniffle a bit, and frowned worriedly. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong...? I'm sorry if I upsetted you, or anything, I didn't mean to." Dee shook their head and tried to dry up their tears with their fist, but it didn't work that well. Remus closed the box and put it back in his pocket, shifting so he was facing them, and took their hand softly, leaving plenty of time for them to pull away. They didn't, and he squeezed their hand.

⠀

"Are you okay?" Dee shrugged at the question. They weren't sure. "That's fair," Remus answered, before humming, "It's okay if you'd rather not answer right away. We got all the time in the world. Would there be anything that could help you feel better? A movie, a tv show - I can even leave the living room if you want to use the TV on your own." Dee shook their head and sniffled before mumbling "Dad'll love it. The ring... He'll love it, and I hope he- I hope he'll be happy with it."

Remus squeezed their hand softly. "I picked it specifically for him, after all... I hope he likes it, like you said." He smiled at the 12 year-old and hummed softly. Dee seemed to relax a little, very much overwhelmed, though the humming did help with grounding.

⠀

It took a bit for them to calm down, and they still had a lot of feelings to sort out. But their dad was in good hands, and they should focus on themself - Remus made it clear he was able to wait as long as Dee needed before taking a step forward, and that was something to hold onto.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

as usual no thesis statement really but was appreciating brooke’s 3.0 vimh “embrace the traits that make you so odd” line last night & how like, her & jeremy’s relationship kicked off b/c other people guided them into like gunning for Romance & while that was like, fine but obviously doesn’t work out, in the finale they’ve got at least the basis for a real friendship already & all of the development that got them there was while they were engaged in / pursuing this romantic relationship w/each other, lovers to friends, & really like, Concurrent &/or overlapping friendship / romance development, which applies to jeremy & christine’s relationship too, & sure Can be applied to say, jeremy & michael’s, or most anyone else’s, b/c i just end up generally appreciating how for bmc what’s important is that people manage to connect w/each other &/or have these genuine relationships / dynamics wherein they get to be their actual selves with each other, & whether any of these connections are romantic or not is basically beside the point

like how jeremy’s side of his relationship w/christine was resolved at the climax of the the play scene, & in vimh he’s already doing great for having gotten this resolution w/his dad & w/ michael (& also rich (cue the entirely reasonable theory that christine thinks rich is on the list of cast members jeremy’s been pucking his way through when what she’s observed is their having apparently become overnight besties)) & he’s obviously not happy about thinking christine probably just hates him now / doesn’t want to talk again but is still fine with the whole situation; & while we the audience would still need to at least indirectly hear from christine again b/c her arc had hardly resolved during the play there, they both could’ve already learned what they needed to from their relationship over the course of the show & been Fine even if she really hadn’t wanted to talk or anything, & the fact that she does still Like jeremy after all that (& all the more for the Understanding & Context she got re: where he’s been coming from w/all this & how he really feels about her, i.e. he does like her for who she’s always actually been, rather than this Supposedly Ideal version of her which isn’t just the squip thinking it’s ideal but like, it’s related to her own feelings that maybe her best self Is perfectly playing a role on center stage. & also that he doesn’t want her bound to this like a.i. neural network anyways regardless of how he feels about the version of her it presents lol, very nice to know too) & well anyways what i’m getting at is it’s like an epic coda that they do both wanna kiss & get to after all of that simultaneous / overlapping friendship & romance development between them, & it’s like, no they Don’t have to get together like that to be okay, but it is always Incorrect when, say, people wanna write fic that’s technically canon compliant but also Doesn’t have the two of them dating so there’s w/e excuse given, but then also doesn’t have christine & jeremy have Any significant relationship going forward really, which is like, i guess sure that’s possible lol but if you’re acknowledging that christine def did wanna see & talk to him again then that just really doesn’t make sense b/c it wasn’t that the Resolution of their relationship, & all that mattered therein, was simply that they’re specifically dating.....there’s no hard & unyielding “their relationship IS romance & romance IS their relationship” so like you can brush the romance offstage if you wanna but hey where’s their friendship going!!!!! like don’t undermine your own analysis of a relationship dynamic if clearing the romantic relationship table for say, jeremy & michael, b/c it’s the same deal of like, you can see how a relationship that didn’t happen to get any clearcut romantic resolution at the end could Still be considered as development for romance, so like, we’re on the same page that a relationship / the development of that relationship that may not be romantic is still significant even if they don’t happen to kiss at the end of what we see, then if you go “what if [jeremy & christine kissing] is no longer currently relevant” it’s like okay, that significant relationship is still there though

anyways it’s fun how jeremy & brooke are trying to romance each other b/c these figures who tell them how to supposedly play by the social rules to their best advantage are telling them they should, but even if they're down to kiss both of them are looking to relate to each other beyond any squip or squip equivalent kind of “he was a boy she was a girl who wants to make out with you, so don’t stop to talk about Why she likes you or anything & then genuinely relate to each other in a more specific way by doing so” like, thinking of how brooke already Relates to jeremy not b/c she specifically hates madeline so much as b/c of his having supposedly also been cheated on before. & also to just be nice to each other vs whatever else they supposedly “”should”” do....& so even if they’re not together romantically they’ve still made these genuine connections & like each other, & that after all that, brooke liked the ways in which jeremy was weird

maybe a sidebar re: how we don’t really know if jake & christine ended up particularly being friends, even though they supposedly had this equivalent sort of “this is me choosing to be Different from how i usually am / have a different role” & you know, inherently better that nobody’s telling them this is what they Should do, but it also never really seems to go beyond “well, this is just Different for the both of us” so doesn’t seem like there’s too much to be friends about, although also i’m sure they could be in a way similar to brooke & jeremy & you know, we just don’t glimpse it, nice that jake’s at least indirectly rooting for christine’s possible future relationship w/jeremy here lmao

well anyways like i said no thesis statement. just galaxy braining Relationships re: friendship & romance here & how so long as its this genuine connection it’s not really vital whether any given connection involves romance Or Not, i.e. it’s not like well either we’re soulmates or nothing, & also isn’t like “well if i’m girl & you’re boy & we kiss then that’s automatically gonna be the most important thing for either of our lives” lol

[unholyobsessions]

I went through your dream box

Pairing: Julie x Luke

Description: In which Luke finds Perfect Harmony

Warnings: none i think

Word Count: 1.3k

Prompt for jatp week Day 3: Write a fic focused on your favorite ship. Jukebox. @jatp-week​ 

Luke knows that what he’s doing is extremely inappropriate, considering the amount of times Julie has told him to stay out of her room, especially, her dream box, but he can’t help it. Julie has been unconsciously humming a killer melody and Luke is in desperate need for a new song to write. So that is how he finds himself sitting on Julie’s bed rummaging through her box while she’s in school.

Most of what he finds he has already seen but there’s a new sheet of paper, seemingly having been ripped out of a notebook. He carefully pulls it out of the box and reads the top.

Perfect Harmony

As he reads the lyrics, Luke is filled with instant dread and regret. He knew Julie had crush on Nick but he didn’t think it went to the extent of writing a love song about him, and certainly not one as good as this one. He hears the front door open and Julie call out a greeting to her dad. He scrambles to put everything back the way it was and poofs away as he sees the door handle move. He ignores the tears stinging his eyes and appears on the beach where he sits for hours on end. He contemplates his feelings and realistically he knows he can never be with Julie because, well, he’s dead. But some part of him, the part of him that feels too much for his own good, had hope. Hope that it would somehow work out, hope that Julie felt the same way.

He poofs back in time for practice and he refuses to meet Julie’s eyes. He simply goes over to his guitar and starts tuning, gesturing for the the rest of them to go to their instruments. Alex, Reggie, and Julie all exchange a look, confused because Luke will most of the time greet them all with a smile and a bounce in his step. They wave it off, assuming he’s just having one of those days, and start practice, hoping that playing will brighten his spirits.

It doesn’t. And they all quickly realize his sour mood is directed strictly toward Julie. He avoids sharing a microphone with her and instead opts to share with Reggie or sing alone. Parts of the song where he would normally sing to her, in a way dedicating the lyrics to her, he simply looks forward with no emotion in his eyes. Julie tries to act unaffected but it is obvious to anyone that looks at her that she’s hurt. The spark of the band is not the same without the spark of Luke and Julie and the lack of passion from Luke’s part is terribly obvious.

Most of all, Julie missed the contact. She had become accustomed to the physical contact in the last weeks. A high-five after a good run through, an arm slung over the shoulder, a casual kiss to the top of her head as a goodnight. Luke couldn’t even look at her much less touch her. Alex and Reggie notice of course and try to give Julie double the amount of hugs and high-fives to make up for Luke’s lack of affection. It helps, it definitely does, but it’s not the same.

This goes on for a few days and with an important upcoming gig, Julie decides enough is enough, deciding to confront Luke about it.

“Okay what is going on with you,” Julie bursts into the studio, deciding the element of surprise is her best shot. Luke turns and is about to poof away but Julie grips his wrist, stopping him from doing so. “You’ve been acting weird around me for days. Did I do something wrong?” There was pain hidden behind her worry, and Luke, having become an expert at reading Julie, could see it clear as day. And god did it hurt him. It hurt to know that he is the cause of that pain. He starts to feel guilty, ready to apologize, but then he remembers his own pain that Julie is unknowingly causing and he puts his walls back up.

“Nothing’s going on Julie.” His tone is bored and dismissive which pisses Julie off.

“Don’t lie to me Luke. I don’t deserve being lied to.” She is still gripping to him, scared that is she let go, he’ll leave and she wouldn’t get another opportunity to talk to him.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He dismisses her agin but this time it’s more reserved, a shield. A shield that Julie knows she can break through.

“It’s not nothing if it has you acting this way.” There is nothing but sincerity in her voice and Luke’s heart decides to speak before his head could stop himself.

“Don’t be mod. I went through your dream box and-“ he is interrupted by Julie.

“What! Luke I have told you so many time to stay out of my stuff!”

“I know I know and trust me I regret doing it anyway.” He pulls his arm away from Julie’s grasp and takes a few steps back, but stays in the room. His mind is running at a hundred miles an hour and he needs space to gather his thoughts. Julie doesn’t say anything, raising an inquisitive eyebrow and waits patiently for him to continue. “I found the song you wrote for Nick,” Luke says bitterly, almost spitting out the words as if they were venom.

“What are you talking about?” She didn’t mean for the question to come off as harsh as it did but she is confused. As far as she knows she has never written a song about Nick.

“Perfect Harmony.”

Julie freezes and curses inaudibly under her breath. She knows she should have come up with a better hiding place for that song. Heat rushes to her cheeks not knowing what to say because if she says the song is not about Nick then she will have to admit to something she never planned on saying out loud.

Luke looks at her expectantly and she clears her throat. “That song isn’t about Nick.”

“Really?” Luke hates how jealous he sounds but he can’t help it. “Then who is it about?”

“You.” Her voice is barely above a whisper but Luke hears her loud and clear. His head snaps up hoping to meet her eyes but she is boring holes into the ground.

“What?” Now it’s his turn to whisper, almost as if he physically cannot speak louder than a soft blow of air.

“I wrote it about you. Like two months ago, the day we performed  Edge of Great.” Luke feels like there is a knot in his throat preventing his voice from being heard. He feels as if his breath is being knocked out of him (does he still breath?) when Julie takes a step closer. He stays where he is allowing her to approach him.  “I like you Luke. Not Nick.”

When she reaches her hand out to him, he allows himself to take it, interlocking their fingers and he swears he feels a shock go up his arm and straight to his heart.

“I like you too Julie. I like you a lot. But we can’t. I mean I’m-“

“I don’t care.” She cuts him off, already knowing what he’s going to say. She’s had those same thoughts before but she refuses to keep letting slight inconveniences come in between what she wants. And right now, she really wants to be open about her feelings for Luke. She raises her other hand and caresses his cheek. He leans involuntarily into her touch. “I like you like this. We don’t have to worry about the technicalities.”

Luke places his own hand above her and smiles, feeling like he’s on top of the world because if Julie Molina likes him then he must be the most blessed man on earth. “Okay.”

She pulls him close, appreciating the contact of his body against hers, the comfort she feels when he hugs her. They stay like that for a few minutes both enjoying the comfortable silence before Luke decides to break it. “So you wrote me a love song?”

“Shut up.”

[angrylizardjacket]

guardian as a title {Machine Gun Kelly}

Summary: Casie's not technically your kid, but as you think about your future with Colson, maybe that won't always be the case.

A/N: 2512 words. I keep seeing fics about having a kid with MGK, but there's a lot of folks who can't have kids or don't want to have kids, but they shouldn't be excluded from having fluffy family fics!! And hes already got a kick ass daughter, so here. Written on my phone so potentially buggy. I just kind of love writing MGK who's so loving and protective of his daughter okay??

----

It took a long time to meet Casie. Colson had been hesitant; if you met his daughter, that meant whatever was going on between the two of you was real, was serious, and he'd been burned too many times to make that step so easily. Of course she knows about you, but she understands her father's hesitation, and the two of you unknowingly share patience, waiting for Colson to feel ready.

So you and he had been dating for almost a full year before you finally meet her. He picks a fancy restaurant for the three of you, and as you're making your way there, you realise you're actually nervous. By now you know where you fit in Colson's life; his friends like you, even his management team likes you, but Casie? You have absolutely no idea how she feels about you, but you know without a shadow of a doubt, that if she ends up not liking you, you can kiss any sort of future with Colson goodbye. To him, Casie hangs the stars in the sky, and he'd choose her every single time, not that you'd ever expect anything different. 

You get to the restaurant first, and the reservation is under his name, so you head on in and nervously start on the ice water they bring to your table. About five minutes later, you hear Colson call your name, and you look up from your phone, eyes wide, and stand abruptly. Casie looks nervous too, all of seven years old in a pair of dark blue jeans and a pretty blouse, and you smile at her as they approach.

"Hi," she's quiet, looking you over and evaluating you, and after a moment you offer your hand. She shakes it, grip surprisingly strong for a seven year old, and she tells you its nice to meet you.

"Its nice to meet you too, I've heard so much about you," you tell her, and she gives a little smile at that. Colson pulls out her chair for her and she thanks him. She's so proper, making a show of putting her napkin in her lap as you pour her a glass of water.

Its awkward at first, of course it is, but then Casie asks what you think of the album Colson's about to release, and the tension breaks. Your enthusiasm for his music goes a long way to reassuring her it seems, and its suddenly much easier to relax into the conversation. 

After dinner, you suggest swinging by McDonalds for milkshakes, and Casie practically cheers. You graciously slide into the back seat before any confusion arises, and when Casie's putting on her seatbelt, Colson looks over his shoulder to you and gives a warm, grateful look. Its going better than he'd hoped.

Its still a little strange; you practically live with Colson, though previously you've been crashing on a friend's sofa whenever Casie's come to visit, so its strange to wake up in his house on a Saturday morning, and find the two of them eating waffles and watching cartoons. It's… endearing. 

Casie's staying for two weeks this time, and on the third day of her stay, Colson's called away for a meeting about his album that was releasing in a few months. He says it'll only be a few hours, but you need to watch Casie. Its easy enough to keep her entertained; after lunch she pulls out her DS, and sits next to you, not really paying attention to the Spongebob rerun on TV.

"What are you playing?" You can't help but be intrigued at the strangely familiar music coming from the device. She turns the screen towards you and you see a little dog panting happily. Nintendogs. A wave of nostalgia hits you. "That game's so old," you say with a gentle smile, but Casie just looks confused. Its turns out to be Nintendogs + Cats, but the premise is still the same. She's surprised that you take such an interest in the game, and is more than excited to show you the tricks her dogs can do, and tells you very matter-of-factly that you can walk the dog to the dog park, so long as she supervises. By the end of the day, the two of you are acting like old friends, and Colson comes home to the pair of you curled up on the sofa trying to decide which dog she should get next in the game. 

She names it after you. Its far more touching than you realised it would be.

For the next few months, whenever she visits, she makes sure to tell you how Y/N The Dog is doing, right up until she gets Animal Crossing: New Leaf and lets Nintendogs fall to the wayside. 

You love her dad, and you take a genuine interest in her, and after several months and a few meetings over coffee, her mom trusts you to look after her when Colson's away doing press for his album and his new tour. Thats all that matters to Casie. 

You start to think the world of her; she's an incredible kid, bright and fun, but strangely sensible at times, and effortlessly cool. You find yourself thinking that if you were ever to have a kid, you'd want them to be like her, though you know children of your own aren't on the cards for your future. You'd known that for a while now, and so did Colson, though neither of you try to dwell on it much. 

Whatever chance Colson takes to support his daughter, you're there too. Recitals, public speaking contests, science fairs; if you're able to be there, you'll be there, making a conscious effort to befriend her mother along the way. Its clear you intend to stick around; you're good for Colson and you're good for Casie, and that's the mpst important thing.

As your year with Colson turns to two, to three, to four, the two of you start to consider what your future together would look like. 

He proposes quietly over dinner at the same restaurant he took you and Casie all those years ago. Of course you say yes. Of course you both FaceTime Casie the next day and she cheers so loudly her mother's dog starts barking in the background. 

"Can I help plan your wedding? Please, please, please?" She begs, and it hits that oh, that's right, a proposal leads to a wedding. You had been so caught up in the moment that the reality hadn't quite hit you. You were going to marry Colson Baker. Your smile widens at the very thought. 

"We'll talk about it when you're next here," Colson tells her with a grin, his hand in yours, fiddling with the engagement ring. Casie is over the moon, and her mother peers into the video chat wearing a warm smile, congratulating you both. 

After the call ends, you're quick to start peppering him with kisses.

"Do I take your last name?" You ask, breathless, straddling him.

"If you want," he shrugs, easy smile on his lips.

"Y/N Baker." There's a kind of awe in your voice as you say it, and Colson reaches out to cup your cheek in his hand, and you turn and press a kiss to his palm.

"Y/N Y/L/N-Baker," he suggests softly, and your expression lights up as you lean into to kiss him again, a giggle escaping you.

"I hadn't even considered hyphenating!" You say with delight. 

Casie helped pick the wedding colors, and was quick to start a pinterest board for inspiration, and seemed more excited than ever, bursting with ideas and always eager to help, always asking questions.

"So you're gonna be my step-mom?" She asks, and you make a thoughtful noise in the back of your throat. You're on your phone looking through wedding dresses, and she's playing Breath of the Wild on Colson's Switch, and she pauses the game to look at you. "Do I have to call you that?" She sounds dubious, and you laugh lightly.

"No way," you assure her, "only call me your Step-Mom if I start acting like a Disney villain, okay?"

Casie snorts a laugh and agrees, going back to her game, but something about the interaction sits with you. You keep thinking about it, keeping coming back to it, and you're not quite sure why until the day she breaks her arm trying to skateboard in the driveway. 

Thankfully its Summer and you're home, but Colson's on set filming The Dirt when you hear her start to cry. You get her to the hospital quickly and call Colson, and he says he's on his way. The nurse approaches you, looking at the paperwork you've filled out.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," and that's never a good sign, "we really need a parent or legal guardian here to fill out this paperwork for her."

"I'm going to be her step mother in less than a month-" you tried desperately, giving a crestfallen look to where Casie was being administered pain medication. The nurse gave a deep sigh, and you already know that almost step mother isn't enough, "her dad's going to be here in fifteen minutes." You tell the nurse, and she gives a patient smile, somewhat reassured.

Colson comes in his full Tommy Lee getup, and rushes to wrap Casie up in as much of a hug as he can without hurting her. Its a heartwarming sight, and just having him there eases the rest of Casie's anxieties.

"They wouldn't let a doctor see me because Y/N's not my legal guardian," she whined, a little out of it from the pain medication, "she takes such good care of me; everyone here's a dick," she grumbles, and Colson laughs gently, sitting beside her in the hospital bed, casting you a grateful look. He won't admonish her on her cursing, not here, not now. There's a warm fondness blooming in your chest at her words, a protectiveness that you hadn't realised you'd been harbouring until today.

Casie stays in the emergency department overnight, with you and Colson by her bedside the entire time. You call to inform her mom, who's just glad that you got her to the hospital quickly. The next day, she's released with a cast and pain medication, and is entirely too grumpy for her usually sunny disposition, though she cheers up quickly when you tell her she can have whatever she wants for lunch and dinner.

"I'm gonna have a cast for your wedding!" She bemoans the next day, reading over the instructions the doctor had given you.

"And you're gonna look fantastic regardless," you tell her, but she just throws herself onto the sofa with a huff. Eventually she rolls onto her side and switches on the TV, occupying herself while Colson calls you into the bedroom.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, fidgeting, looking surprisingly serious. When you enter, he looks up, expression pensive.

"Everything okay?"

"I just hate to see her in pain," he admits with a sigh, but you can tell that's not all that's on his mind. You won't push him, will let him work up to whatever he has to say, and so you just sit on the bed beside him and wrap an arm around him.

"So I've been thinking," he starts, "and Casie's been thinking it too, and we ran it past her mom, because we wanted everyone sort of on board before we brought it to you," and you're not quite sure where he's going, but your heart is in your throat, "and yesterday just made me think we should have talked to you about it sooner -"

"About what?" You ask, voice quiet.

"What do you think about becoming one of Casie's legal guardians?" A bright warmth floods through you at his question, and your at a loss for words, so he continues, "you do take care of her, and you know, you're family, and she adores you, and it means there won't be anymore shit like what happened yesterday at the hospital -"

"She'd sort of be my kid too?" You ask, quietly hopeful, and Colson goes quiet, takes in your smile and realises what he's implying. Slowly, he nods.

"She'd be your kid too."

"And she- you're all okay with this?" 

"Casie and her mom both love you, babe, you've made it clear that you put her safety first; her mom wouldn't have agreed otherwise."

"And Casie… wants this?" 

Colson nods sincerely, pulling you in close to him.

"What do you think? I know its a lot of responsibility -" he starts, but you cut him off, grinning.

"I'd kill for her; honestly I couldn't ask for a better kid," you tell him, and he's trying and failing to suppress and enormous grin.

"She's is gonna roast the shit out of me for taking so long to ask you," he admitted, and you snort a laugh, "I had to talk her down from a proposal of her own, though I will say, she designed a pretty sick banner. Ask her about it, I'm sure she'd love to show you." He chuckles fondly, before growing quiet and contemplative, "I'm so happy about this, babe."

"You should be," you huff out a laugh, but there's a disarming sincerity in his eyes when he looks at you.

"No, I mean it, before I met you, I was always so fucking worried that the girls I met would be put off by me having a kid, or they'd get jealous of the attention I give her, but she's my fucking daughter, man, and I knew if I met someone who loved her even half as much as I love her, I'd have hit the jackpot," he paused, giving you a warm, appreciative look, "and here you are."

"Oh," and you feel tears pricking your eyes, unable to stop smiling at the sentiment, "you're a good fucking dad, you know that?"

"I hope so," he says softly, before his expression brightens, "you wanna go tell her the good news?"

You head down to the living room while Colson collects himself, and you find Cassie drawing on her cast with sharpie. 

"Hey, you mind if I float you an idea?" You ask, sitting beside her. She hands over the sharpie and offers her cast for you to sign.

"Is it about the wedding?"

"Not really," you say airily, avoiding her intrigued gaze, "what would you say to me becoming your legal guardian?"

Casie cheers before you can even finish the question, and before you can finish signing your name, she's wrapping her good arm around you. 

"You're gonna sort of be my kid, is that okay?" You hear yourself asking, and she rolls her eyes, grinning.

"No, I'm cheering and hugging you because I hate the idea," she snickers, sarcasm dripping from her words, but she gives you a sincere smile, "dude, I love you, I'm pumped to be your kid, can you not tell?" 

My kid, you think to yourself with a smile, the best kid I could ever ask for. 

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Hi! Long time lurker, big fan of this blog. Can I request either a headcannon or a fic of Viv Tang?

Basically, it goes like this, it's an AU of some sort, where Viv and the Poppy leave MC. MC tried to hate them and forget them especially Viv, but couldn't do it. So out of spite and care, MC creates a whole organisation that revolves around protecting Viv and the others. (Making sure their heists go well, the police/government never finding them, making sure that their old enemies never get to them etc.) They've been doing this in private, but Viv and the others catch on, and that thought bothers them. Enough to make them distracted in their latest heist.

Their heist went down in shambles, leaving MC's crew to step in and made sure they're safe, leaving MC's mark to take the blame.

They were confused ofc, but MC's crew was just giddy and happy that they get to meet their leader's old crew.

Basically, they meet MC, MC makes them make it up to her.

And we know how in the original Viv route, we try really hard to pry her open and get her to trust us, well Viv does the same, trying to get MC to forgive her. And just angst ending with fluff please?

Lots of Love <3

This will contain both HC and story parts.

…

·         After Vivienne leaves MC poisoned in Paris, of course she’s pissed.

·         A talk with Jace (and some stress painting) later, MC feels like she has a pretty good grasp of Vivienne’s decision

“She was scared,” she muses, idly playing with one of her brushes, a thoughtful frown on her face as her mind wanders to the other members. “And they were… willing to give her a way out, I guess? Pretty messed up, considering they got me in this whole thing to begin with…”

Thing is, they hadn’t left her without something. Zoe had made sure MC could return to her normal life ‘after you lay low for a bit, probably two months’, advice left in a letter alongside some cash. Enough to buy a few plane tickets around the world. First class.

Even after their most recent decision, MC could recall how careful and welcoming everyone had been. Vivienne was always a mystery, of course, lingering at the edge while MC got to know Jett and Zoe in the Art Club they had formed, or as MC debated with Remy and Leon about a movie they had been watching. With Nikolai, it was mostly challenges Nikolai loved to issue and MC was too proud to deny. But she was always there, in the background. She had become a rather comforting presence, as MC had formed bonds with everyone.

“This was not the best course of action, but they took it anyway.” Vivienne’s choice had been driven by emotion, raw panic, but MC just couldn’t wrap her mind around Nikolai or Zoe, both logical to the bone, supporting it. “There must have been something else, there.”

·         With the anger slowly cooling off, MC thought she could almost begin to understand their reasons. The Poppy isn’t the sort of group to taint their hands with blood, not unless it’s absolute necessary.

·         Celine had pushed everyone, even if the heist ended on a positive note.

·         ‘I believe you have a place with us’, Nikolai had said. MC remembered the heist and how everything could have gone wrong.

·         Their talent and quick-thinking are the only reason they got out of that situation relatively unharmed.

·         No doubt the rest of their heists carried the same danger.

·         MC thought of Celine, gun aiming at her chest, eyes glinting in Vivienne’s direction and made a split-second decision.

·         There was no way, no way at all, that she was going to let anything happen to them.

…

·         When Vivienne had first noticed the sudden lack of danger in their heists, she was instantly suspicious.

·         She couldn’t afford to brush anything off in her line of work.

·         Zoe finds the source in no time.

·         To say they were confused as an understatement.

“I thought she was back in New York?”

“I don’t understand, why would she choose this?”

“We’re hardly so incompetent as to need a guard.”

“How long has this been happening?”

“Couple months, so maybe they started operating around March?” Zoe throws them a withering look so they’ll shut up, and lets out a long sigh once they do. “Point is, we’ve gained a new stalker, even if it’s her. She got a whole organization going, she’s pretty dedicated.”

“Of course she is, it’s why we choose her in the first place.”

“Technically, Vivienne did.”

“Well, yeah. Still, this is insane. So little time, and yet…”

“MC was always a fighter,” Vivienne says, quietly. “It’s certainly an… interesting choice…”

“She seems to have very good intel,” Zoe continues, eyes glued to her laptop’s screen. “Too good. She knows our every movement.”

“Which means she will be lurking around this heist.” Nikolai drums his fingers against his armchair, a frown firmly in place. “That might be a problem.”

“She’s been doing this for months, but we’ve never caught a glimpse of her. It’s safe to say she won’t approach us, right?”

“We probably shouldn’t, either. Not for now. We need more info on this organization of hers.”

“We’ll proceed as planned.”

·         Except nothing goes as planned.

·         Jett’s bombs don’t go off when they should, providing no distraction and thus no way of escape for Vivienne and Nikolai.

·         No safe way, at any rate.

·         The guards get suspicious of their malfunctioning equipment remarkably quick, moving to search the place.

·         Remy gets found out first, though he stalls as much as he can.

·         It’s enough time for Leon and Nikolai to think for a way out, though Remy is still with the guards.

·         The bombs go off at that moment, and Vivienne is trapped.

·         It’s at that moment that MC’s crew intervene.

·         The guards are the most important issue, and so most of her crew go handle it.

·         MC takes care of Vivienne personally.

“Well, that went great.” MC says, flashing Vivienne a cheeky smile when she finds her. Vivienne looks up at her with wide eyes, brown eyes glinting under the light of the room.

“How did you…”

“Questions later, darling. Can you walk?”

Vivienne blinks, taking a deep breath. The motion helps her get rid of most of her surprise. She knows she doesn’t have time to lose, so she accepts MC hand and follows her out. The trip is quiet, of course. Vivienne keeps a carefully neutral expression on, eyes flickering from the woman in front of her to the rest of their escape route.

It’s hard, trying to compare this woman with the one she had kissed all those months ago. She remembers how her hands grasped at her robe, passionate, truthful, those sweet words MC had muttered against Vivienne’s mouth, before the poison had taken effect.

MC had said she would never hurt Vivienne. Vivienne had poisoned her, afraid she would hurt MC.

It didn’t feel like she could hurt the woman before her, though, standing tall and strong and confident, a leader, someone made out of stone. For a moment, Vivienne had the impression poison wouldn’t even work on her anymore.

·         MC had changed. It was as clear as the water glimmering outside the organization’s HQ.

·         She wasn’t the same bubbly, hopeful girl Vivienne had taken around Paris, teaching everything she could about thievery.

·         She wasn’t the same passionate, proud artist she had been, brush in hand, smiling in wonder and then frowning in concentration when she tried to capture something beautiful. Somehow, most of the time, the subject of her painting was Vivienne herself.

·         She was steely, snarky, commanding the room with her very presence. All eyes followed her as she went, speaking clear orders for the crew to follow.

·         In the beginning, they had stuck to the Gilded Poppy like glue, curious. No doubt they were trying to see why MC cared about them so much to go through this kind of trouble.

·         One look from MC was enough to get them to disperse.

·         This change… everything it entailed… Vivienne wanted to know more.

“So, how did it feel?” MC had asked her as soon as they got a moment alone. Vivienne shot her a glance, trying to decipher something in her expression.

“How did what feel?”

“Thinking you could force me out of this. You got me in this life.”

“I gave you a way out.”

“But I told you, didn’t I? I wanted this, and you…”

“I’ve lived all my life like this. I didn’t want you to face-”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have chosen me, then. Ever think of this little thing called consequences?”

Isadora flashes through her mind, quick, too quick. It leaves a trail of golden hair in the back on her mind, all too real when she closes her eyes. Vivienne presses her lips together, forces herself to focus.

“This organization…”

“Don’t let it get to your head, darling. It’s not you I’m worried about.”

“…The others, then.”

“Yes. Quid pro quo, and all that. I’ll see what I can ask in return later.”

“We didn’t ask you to intervene.”

“You didn’t ask before poisoning me, either. I feel like doing drastic things without asking for permission are common place around here.”

“That doesn’t even-”

“Ah, ah, ah. Did I save your lives, yes or no?”

Jett had said, before they got released from the medical ward, that the plan failing was entirely his fault, after getting too distracted thinking about MC to get his usual formulas right. Vivienne didn’t doubt him – Jett was, after all, very dedicated to his craft. A mistake was unthinkable, unless something of this magnitude managed to get to him.

He felt guilty and weirded out, probably, she thinks bitterly, despite everything being my fault, as per usual.

“…you did.”

The smile that stretches over MC’s face is almost predatory, brown eyes glinting with satisfaction. “That’s what I like to hear.”

[whump-town]

It’s A Wonderful Life

Inspired by the only Christmas movie that I like and last night’s episode of Prodigal Son

A dangerous car wreck puts Hotch in tricky situation-- to stay or to go?

Part One of Three (and don’t worry, I already wrote part two and am editing part three so it’s done I’m just not posting it all in one go-- so you’ll actually get the whole fic)

Feat: autistic Reid and Jack  (because I always thought that was what made the doctor’s appointment Hotch missed so important)

Aaron Hotchner wakes to the sound of his bedroom door slowly groaning, the old hinge creaking as it’s opened. If he hadn’t heard the faint, pattering footsteps beforehand, he might be fearful of what kind of intruders were trying to make their way into his home. However, before he can even roll to the edge of the mattress and offer his little burglar a hand up he’s being whacked in the face by a stuffed bear. Only able to grunt a complaint as a little fist grip tightly onto his pajama bottoms and-- “Hey, buddy.”

Jack looks nearly surprised to find his father staring back at him.

“You’re up early.”

Jack smiles, shyly leaning forward until he’s half laid across Hotch’s chest and half-buried down in the comforter. Placing one hand on Jack’s back, he leans up to see his alarm-clock. They’ve still got thirty minutes before the alarm goes off and the day must go on. Regardless, he sinks back into the pillows under him. Even if there’s no way he can go back to sleep, he can enjoy some pre-school-sized cuddles.

Thirty minutes is up too fast.

Carrying a squirming, unhappy five-year-old against his side he yawns and makes his way to the kitchen. “Oatmeal?” he asks, even though he knows the answer. Oatmeal is the only thing that Jack will eat. It’s a… comfort food. The therapist, not the family one they go to but the one that specializes in autism, said that oatmeal was one of Jack’s comfort foods.

There was a bit of a debate about if Hotch should try to introduce additional foods with the oatmeal and now they’re working by trial. Oatmeal doesn’t meet too many dietary needs and having Jack fall underweight and little for his age was just another blow to Hotch. He understands that he can’t take these things personally-- Jack being nonverbal isn’t anyone’s fault. Jack being autistic is not some cosmic payback. It’s just a thing. Something that the two of them are working with.

It was just so much easier with Haley here too.

He’s a little cranky now but today is a good morning and Hotch isn’t going to ruin it by trying to encourage Jack into eating apples. He’ll cut up a few pieces of banana for Jack to either eat or ignore and be content when Jack eats his oatmeal and finishes his orange juice and that’s plenty. That’s good.

“Ugh.” This is the part Hotch struggles with. Speaking. For the language center of Jack’s brain to develop properly, Hotch has to speak more than he does. Silence is far more natural for him and he’d like to think the same for Jack. Speaking all the time, saying everything is tiring and he hates it. The thing is, he and Jack work exceptionally well sans spoken words. Jack’s ability to communicate is exceptional, Hotch has to work for it, but he’s five and Hotch doesn’t know any five-year-olds that are flawless at communication.

“Ah, thank you,” he signs the words too. His sign language isn’t actually that good but, again, they make it work. “Can you go to the chart and--” Hotch smiles, Jack already running over to the poster on his wall. Smiling as he pulls the velcro pieces off and puts the little drawing of a toothbrush and hairbrush over to the done side. “Thank you, Jack. You’re doing so good this morning. How about socks and shoes now?”

Jack gets to pick his socks out.

Reid’s idea.

Hotch had been very hesitant to ask Reid for any help. To acknowledge the one thing that they never talk about. In the face of everything that happened with Foyet and then with Haley he’d been left with no other choices. Strangely enough, Reid is the only person that has never made Hotch feel like an awful father for not knowing what to do.

Jack… kind of hates Reid, though.

“Oh, nice!” Reid says that Hotch should encourage the things that Jack likes. So, every morning he works a little harder to be happy when Jack picks out two completely different socks and turns around to search for his approval. “Do you know what color this one is?” Hotch asks.

Jack sits down on the floor, wiggling contently as he waits for Hotch to slip his socks on.

“Jack,” Hotch encourages, jostling Jack’s thigh to get his attention. “What color is it?” He holds the sock patently in his palm watching Jack get momentarily agitated. He raises his hand, ready to sign the word himself but Jack beats him to it. Clicking his tongue as he smiles and pats his lip with his middle finger.

The sign calls for the signer to form the letter “p” and then to tap or flick their middle finger against their lip but who cares about that?

“Good job!” Hotch praises and it’s so easy to be happy. Jack’s so fucking smart and he’s already so excited to tell someone. Jessica or Dave or whoever he sees first. “Pink! Your sock is pink!” The other has dinosaurs on it, it’s a favorite and Hotch finds himself washing it and its pair at least twice a week. He thinks it might have more to do with the soft yellow coloring of the sock.

Jack’s favorite color is yellow.

“You wanna go play with your rocks?” Hotch asks, slipping his hands under Jack’s arms and righting him on his feet. “I’m going to go get dressed, okay?” He waits, making sure Jack is going to go drag his tubs of rocks out before going off on his way.  He can worry about limiting the number of rocks Jack takes with them later.

It’s Wednesday which means that he has to take Jack to the office for two hours until his program opens for the day. Technically, he should be in Kindergarten but Garcia found this program for him. He and Reid had gone to scope the place out. Hotch was way in over his head back then (and still is but then he’d been trying to cope with Haley’s death and getting Jack into school).

Though most of the things that the program had to offer were things he couldn’t understand Reid has taken it in. Explaining every little detail until Hotch understood not only the style of learning they were enforcing but why Jack had loved their foam furniture so much.

Hotch doesn’t know how he would have gotten through the last few years without the team.

With everything that happened with Foyet, he’s surprised that they can stand him at all. Maybe they shouldn’t. Their ability and drive to stay no matter what he did is commendable and he’s lucky to have a group of people that care about him but he has to consider why.

Why did they stay?

Morgan got a promotion, recently. With a short, strongly worded letter Morgan could have control of the whole department and he should have it. No one would think twice about snatching it up out of his hands.

He watched Reid struggle with addiction. Has hidden and protected Reid’s autism diagnoses from being filed on his record. His right hand, the woman he trusts more than any other agent, is a chronic insubordinate mess. For whom he has stepped on many toes. Despite his retirement and the push to fill the position in other ways, Hotch asked Rossi to come out of retirement. No one liked that idea but he did it anyway. There’s his decision to bring Garcia on despite her record, which had caused a lot of trouble.

JJ-- Well, she’s perfect so she’s probably the one they can’t use against him.

But how many times had Haley called JJ? Before the divorce and after. Even if they can’t use JJ against him, she probably hates him.

His life is a good and proper mess.

And now he has to go convince his son not to bring two pockets full of rocks with them.

He has to hike his dress pants up to squat down. If he brings himself down to Jack’s level it’s supposed to be more efficient for communication. That’s understandable. He’s certainly not going to stand over Jack. Jack’s hardly three feet tall, it can be a little overwhelming. Not to mention that’s over three feet of distance between them.

“Buddy,” he holds Jack’s hands in his own. “Buddy, you can take two.”

Two. Jack can count. Two just doesn’t sound like a bargain.

“Four,” Hotch caves. “Two for each pocket.”

Okay, he can live with that.

Jack hates his car seat but holding two rocks in each hand seems to soothe him enough to allow Hotch the chance to strap him into his seat. That and his sketchers hitting the seat’s bottom lights the whole car up in flashing blues and yellows.

Hotch glances back at him a few times. Sometimes Jack tries to put the rocks in his mouth. He’s never swallowed one, he just likes the cold way the rock feels in his mouth but if he does that while Hotch is driving it’s easy to understand how that might not end well.

He gets to an intersection in town, frustrated when he catches the redlight. “There’s no way this stoplight hasn’t ruined someone’s day before,” Hotch mumbles to himself. The thing gets stuck on red for an absurd amount of time. The lights are regulated, a fact Reid reminds him of all the time, but this one will stay on red for longer than two minutes. By the fourth minute, all patience is thrown out the window.

When the light turns green he glances back at Jack through the mirror, smirking. He looks back to the road still smiling. Jack is content, clicking his tongue, and watching the world pass by through his window. It’s like he can breathe-- he can stop for just this moment and know he’s doing something right.

He doesn’t see the other car racing across the intersection, blind with rage. There’s the horrible ripping of metal and the hiss of smoke and then nothing.

Turns out he was right.

That stoplight is going to ruin someone’s day.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

After Each Midnight Begins A New Day

[Extra #5 - @threephasebird requested that the next extra be some Jin Sibs and Xuanli’s horde of children so here it is! This is (mostly) set post-fic, just as 3zun are on their way to Jinlintai to visit at the end of the last chapter]

[Masterpost]

A quick brief on the children’s names and ages:

Jin Ling (金凌 - rise above) - First son, 20

Jin Fei (金飞 - to fly) - Second son, 17

Jin Yu (金雨 - rain) and Jin Yan (金焰 - fire) - First and Second daughters, 14

Jin Zhuang (金 庄  - solemn) - Third son, 12

Jin Lu (金 露 - dew) - Third daughter, 7

Jin Ye (金 烨 - breathtaking/blaze of fire) - Fourth daughter, 3

--

As a young boy, Jin Zixuan had often wondered when he would get a sibling. Everyone else had one, it seemed. The Lan Heir had a little brother. The Nie Heir did too. The Jiang Heir got two siblings which seemed like too many, and even those awful Wen boys had each other. He had asked his mother (when he was still young enough to be innocent of the politics of such matters) when he was going to get a didi or meimei of his own, but Madam Jin had just patted his hair and tapped the tip of his nose with her knuckle. It was too gentle of a touch to ever hurt whenever she did that, of course, but he always wrinkled his nose anyway to make her laugh.

Not long after that conversation, he hadn’t gotten a sibling but he had gotten a Mianmian.

She’s technically his shimei, of course, but that hardly matters to him. What does matter is that Luo Qingyang is nothing like the siblings he had imagined for himself when he had asked for one. For starters, she’s older than him by a month, which she makes sure to smugly remind him of at every opportunity. She’s really really polite to adults but annoyingly bossy to him when they get left alone to play. She’s reckless too, and more often than not Jin Zixuan just ends up pouting and dragging his feet as he follows along behind her wherever she wants to run, using his presence at her side as an excuse to sneak into every family-only part of Jinlintai that she can.

By the time they’re 10, though, he loves her fiercely as the sister he can understand by now that he’s never going to get to have. His parents hardly ever see each other, after all, and while he still isn’t totally sure how siblings are made he’s definitely sure that parents have to see each other more often than a few awkward meals a week for it to happen. It’s alright though, he has Mianmian to keep him company and make fun of him whenever he says something dumb (or yell at his cousins when they try to make fun of him for the same).

As they grow, she’s at his side for every important event in his life, as he is for hers. Every birthday, every New Year’s, every important training milestone they get to share. She’s even at his side for the meeting when they’re 14 where it’s announced that he is engaged to Jiang Yanli of the Yunmeng Jiang. Mianmian laughs for so long at that one once they’re alone that his own crushing panic recedes enough for him to punch her in the shoulder and tell her to knock it off, which of course does as little good as ever.

(To this day he still laughs when he remembers the look on her face when she’d heard he was going to get married one day - the shock followed by quickly-repressed snickers throughout the rest of the meeting that had been mercifully, tactfully ignored by the adults in attendance.)

Soon after they turn 16, they’re both there at the main hall the day that a boy who looks to be close to his own age presents himself at Jinlintai to ask for discipleship, claiming blood ties to...to Jin Guangshan as his reason for coming to Lanling all the way from Yunping, rather than going to the Jiang. Jin Zixan is helpless to do anything but watch on in wide-eyed shock as his father kicks the boy down all those stairs, Mianmian’s shocked gasp at his elbow echoing his own as everyone else in the vicinity watches on impassively. They watch together in fascinated horror from their hiding spot behind a large statue to the side of the stairs as the boy somehow manages to pick himself up off the ground at the bottom and bow to Jin Guangshan at the top of the tower with flawless form, the blood on his forehead and the stiffness in his chest as he bows visible even from where they are.

“Oh no,” Mianmian says softly under her breath when he turns to leave. “Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“Maybe...Hopefully,” he replies, numbly, still reeling from the idea that he might have...a brother? A half-brother? Certainly if his mother had given birth to the boy he wouldn’t have been living in Yunping, he would have been there in Lanling with the rest of the family. Besides, there’s no way Madam Jin had been pregnant with..twins (judging by their apparently similar ages) and he hadn’t known it, or no one had mentioned it. Either way - this boy thinks he’s Jin Zixuan’s brother, and his father has just kicked him down the stairs for it. In front of everybody. It’s..jarring, to say the least.

It isn’t long after the boy’s dejected departure from Jinlintai that Jin Zixuan is forced to confront his own feelings about the rumors of his father’s...exploits. Not that he hadn’t heard snippets of it before, snide comments muttered behind hands and under breaths, but they always seemed..unimportant. Just idle gossip, and Madam Jin has never been anything but perfectly (if a bit coldly) civil to Jin Guangshan in the rare times they’re in the same room. It had always seemed best to follow her example and ignore it, but now...well now there’s the boy who had come to them with an honest request, a valid one, and had been kicked down the tower for it, just for being physical proof of the rumors that had always circulated. He can’t ignore it any longer.

Jin Zixuan doesn’t know what to do about it, of course, and he eventually has to acknowledge that there’s nothing he can do, but that still doesn’t keep him from thinking about it until even Mianmian grows tired of his fretting over it all.

Despite his agonizing over the subject, when he sees the boy again in Cloud Recesses two years later as a retainer with the young Nie-gongzi, Jin Zixuan doesn’t even recognize him at first. He personally feels it’s justified considering the circumstances of the only time he had ever seen him (besides the fact that Jiang Yanli - perpetually trailed by her obnoxious brothers - is proving far more of a distraction than he had anticipated), but Mianmian still cuffs him on the ear for it once they’re in private.

“What are you going to say to him?” she demands at the end of her lecture about it, arms crossed over her chest and that mulish look on her face that he had learned to fear a long time ago.

“Wh-what would I even say to him?” he retorts quickly, horrified at the thorny social situation this presents. He isn’t even good at the normal ones, what is he supposed to say to his supposed half-brother who is living, breathing proof of an extramarital affair, and who has been resoundly refused entry into Jinlintai in such a horrible, public fashion? A half-brother who is, apparently, now a member of the Nie Sect and has gained enough of Nie-Zongzhu’s favor to be sent to Cloud Recesses during the lecture season to look after Nie Huaisang, who everyone knows Nie Mingjue doesn’t trust with just anybody…

Where to even begin?!

(Jin Zixuan also laughs about that now, how scared he had been of his brother and how unimpressed Mianmian had been with all of his arguments on his own behalf. He has never once in his life been good at arguing with her, after all.)

In the end, he’s lucky enough a couple of weeks into their studies to have an opportunity to pull Meng Yao aside and stammer through the apology he had rehearsed over the last few days with Mianmian’s help. He apologizes as profusely as he can manage for his father’s behavior towards him, as well as extends a tentative request that they get to know each other better as half-brothers even if Jin Guangshan won’t like it. None of it is polite or graceful, in fact he knows that some of it is inadvertently uncouth bordering on offensive, but Meng Yao still accepts all of it with wide-eyed surprise and, when Jin Zixuan finally stumbles to a verbal halt, with a small, affectionate smile on his handsome face.

----

He finds Mo Xuanyu next.

Word had reached him by letter one day from a woman in a small village who had finally worked up the courage to attempt to appeal to Jin Guangshan on their son’s behalf, only for her to find out from her sister, the Madam of the local main family, that Jin Guangshan is several years dead. She had appealed to him instead, of course, as the boy’s brother and Jin Zixuan had taken Jiang Yanli to Mo Manor with him so they could learn the truth for themselves.

Mo Xuanyu is...wary of meeting him, which Jin Zixuan doesn’t fault him for for a second. In fact he had expected it, which is partially why he had brought Jiang Yanli along (besides the fact that he also just enjoys traveling with his wife).

He meets with Second Madam Mo and her son in as neutral of a space as he can find - and alone, to begin with. It’s clear within minutes of observing the boy that he’s a Jin even before Second Madam Mo outlines the events that had given her her son. Jin Zixuan does his best to reassure her that Mo Xuanyu will be welcome as a visitor in Jinlintai should he wish to come, that he will be legitimized if he wants to be, and that he will be allowed to train with the other disciples as well whether he wants to be legitimized or not.

He doesn’t do a very good job of explaining it, unfortunately (nor does he think he managed a very good job of inspiring any sort of confidence in him as a leader, which is unfortunately a frequent occurrence without Jiang Yanli or Mianmian with him to help him talk). As is usually the case after such instances, he finds himself pleading with Jiang Yanli that evening for her help. The pair of them visit the Second Madam Mo and her son in their home on the Mo estate the following day, and Jiang Yanli charms them both so thoroughly that Mo Xuanyu agrees to pack his things and come home with them two days later, with his mother’s full support.

It quickly becomes clear once they arrive in Jinlintai and Mo Xuanyu settles into his cultivation training with some of the younger children that while he is a Jin in name (sort of) and looks, he is infinitely.. weirder than any other Jin that Jin Zixuan has ever met.

By now he and Meng Yao have both put in the work to have formed something of a decent - if still slightly stilted - relationship, and so he’s become well aware even in their relatively limited interactions that his brother works hard to be an unfailingly polite and graceful sort of gentleman. And of course he still thinks of Mianmian like a sister even now that he has made her his Second; and while her behavior is much more brash than his own or Meng Yao’s she still knows the rules of society and chooses to follow them whenever necessary. Besides, she’s a Luo, not a Jin, despite being raised pretty much exclusively in Jinlintai. She gets a free pass.

Mo Xuanyu had been cheerful enough during the trip to Jinlintai with Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli  but also on his best behavior, and Jin Zixuan supposes (a bit too late) that being surprised by what has followed is his own fault for assuming that the boy’s nervousness and uncertainty during that trip with two strangers - powerful strangers - was a good representation of his permanent personality.

Long story short - Mo Xuanyu comes to Jinlintai and raises absolute hell.

Jiang Yanli adores him. 

Mo Xuanyu clings to her like a burr in response, soaking up her indulgence and the unfailingly kind older-sister energy that she exudes at all times like he’s been desperate for it, for the gentle love of a woman as incredible as Jiang Yanli. And not that Jin Zixuan had ever planned on going back on his promise to legitimize the boy and maintain his offer of a place for him in Jinlintai, but now he truly can’t even begin to consider it after seeing how excited Mo Xuanyu is to find siblings, nieces and nephews, and friends there.

Jin Zixuan legitimizes his youngest brother in an official ceremony conducted by himself and Meng Yao after the first year of Mo Xuanyu’s cultivation training, once his golden core has formed and he is able to begin his true discipleship alongside the younger students at similar levels of cultivation - Jin Ling and his peers, in fact.

And Mo Xuanyu just...stays. His mother had traveled to Lanling to visit him a few times early on when he could take breaks from his training, but after she passes away Mo Xuanyu declares in the midst of his grief that without his mother there’s nothing and no one in Mo Manor to draw him back, and he becomes a permanent fixture of life in the tower - perpetual wild child Mo Xuanyu, with his insistence on wearing black and red clothing (which he swears has nothing to do with Wei Wuxian but he fools absolutely no one), his absolutely wildly dramatic personality, his equally dramatic makeup, his loud laughter.

He proves himself very quickly to be excellent for irritating the Sect elders whenever necessary, and Jin Zixuan privately enjoys watching the stuffy old men try to figure out how to handle his brother’s...unique brand of flamboyance. Of course he’s usually just as flummoxed as they are, the difference is that he’s very fond of it and they are definitely not.

These days, Mo Xuanyu’s position in Jinlintai is more secure than ever. He’s a source of fun and lightheartedness at family gatherings, he’s an attentive presence during the children’s lessons and he plays with them whenever they would like during their leisure time. He’s a wonderful brother and uncle, in his own way, and a cheerful presence wherever he goes.

He also makes for a good litmus test, of sorts. Everyone who deals with the Jin Sect regularly knows of him by now, and Jin Zixuan has gotten into the habit of making sure to keep a careful eye on anyone who dares to step into his home and speak unduly harshly about his youngest sibling. He learned early on to be wary of how that sort of rigid attitude may negatively impact policies they plan to propose or favors they need to ask. He’s also not above deploying Mo Xuanyu himself to handle them in the most obscenely awkward ways he can devise - and those are many and varied. Jin Zixuan himself had stopped getting embarrassed by it a long time ago out of a sense of self-preservation, but others are not so fortunate.

And that had been enough.

Two surprise brothers plus a Mianmian (not to mention his six brothers-in-law plus his and Jiang Yanli’s four children with their fifth on the way at the time) had been more family than he had ever dared to dream of, let alone knew what to do with now that he had it.

But then, not long after Mo Xuanyu’s declaration at 16 that he will be remaining in Jinlintai for the rest of his life if at all possible, Jin Zixuan and Meng Yao take a short trip together to Laoling Qin to discuss a bit of trade business.

Qin Cangye had very politely requested that any discussions they needed to have with him be held in his own home as his wife was too ill to travel, and with Mianmian to run things in his stead in Lanling for a few days (and as many nurses as Jiang Yanli could ever need to help with the children for the short-term) he had been more than willing to travel to accommodate. He had also been perfectly happy to conduct the business they needed to with nothing that threatened to distract him - right up until their second full evening in the Qin home when Meng Yao had approached him in his room after dinner, unusually serious even for him, and told Jin Zixuan that he needed to listen to something important Madam Qin wanted to tell them.

He had listened to her and her handmaid, and he had believed them, and he had been unsurprised to find himself thinking quite uncharitably of his father following his promise to Madam Qin that he would do everything in his power to make it right, as much as he could.

They return to Jinlintai the day after the next, once their business is concluded. He’s relieved when nothing needs his immediate attention as it means he’s free to retreat into his and Jiang Yanli’s quarters so he can tell her everything that’s weighing on his mind.

“No more surprise siblings from now on,” he sighs into the comfort of Jiang Yanli chest when he’s finished outlining what has happened and his plans to prepare a new suite of rooms in the family wing of the tower. For Qin Su. His sister.

Jiang Yanli just laughs her tinkling laugh and kisses him, her hands gentle as she combs his hair back from his face with her fingertips. “You’ve got more siblings now than any of the rest of us,” she teases with a mischievous smile down at him that is a bit too reminiscent of, weirdly, both Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu for comfort. “Two brothers, a sister, and of course we must keep Mianmian in her spot on the list. If you would like to count brothers-in-law as well you’ve also got A-Xian, A-Cheng, Huaisang, Wangji, Xichen, and Mingjue...”

He groans and hides his face properly in the soft silk of her robes even as she laughs again over his head. 

“Young boys who ask their mothers for more siblings should be careful what they ask for, shouldn’t they?” Another kiss, this time to his cheek, and he accepts it with a sigh. He certainly can’t deny that his misguided childhood jealousy has certainly been made null. He has a much bigger family than he could have ever imagined.

It’s nice to feel that, finally, Jinlintai is full to bursting with people who genuinely care about him, and who he is allowed to care about in return.

----

Most of that happened long enough ago, though, that these days Jin Zixuan actually has some trouble bringing the memories back to the surface at first demand (though he knows that he’ll never truly forget the ways he had come to know - and subsequently legitimize - all three of his biological siblings).

“A-Xuan?” Jiang Yanli calls now from the doorway of his personal office. Her voice is as soft as always, but it’s tinged with his favorite variety of amusement - the kind caused by the mischief of any member of their (enormous) family. He looks up to find her holding a letter from Gusu judging by the distinctive blue, one eyebrow raised and a smile on her lips. “Were you aware that A-Yu has apparently been begging A-Yao to pay us a visit for over a month?”

“No I wasn’t, but I’m not surprised,” he replies with a sigh and a shake of his head. He loves Mo Xuanyu, of course he does, but he will readily admit that the ever-unbridled chaos of his youngest brother still makes him wonder how they’re related even now over a decade into their relationship. “Can I assume that A-Yao and our brothers-in-law have caved to his demands?” he adds with a gesture towards the letter. Jiang Yanli tucks a gentle laugh into the embroidered cuff of her sleeve.

“They have indeed, A-Yu will be so pleased. They’ve asked to spend a while here though - longer than their last few visits have been at least but A-Yao didn’t specify precisely how long they’d like. I’m going to tell them that anything they want is perfectly fine, unless you have a reason not to accept?”

“No, there’s nothing I can think of. Did they say why they want to stay so long? Is everything alright?”

“They didn’t say, but I think they’re fine. A-Yao only says here that they need a change of scenery for a while and A-Chen suggested they travel. I’ll go ahead and send our acceptance, then?”

Jin Zixuan nods and returns to the report he’s reading. After so many years together, though, he knows enough about his wife not to be surprised when she steps further into the room to put a hand on his shoulder and lean down to press her forehead against his temple for a long, quiet moment. He lets his eyes drift shut as he takes a deep breath in of the familiar scent of the lotus-scented oil she wears in her hair and the hint of incense still clinging to her skin from her morning meditation to help strengthen her core.

“I’ll be playing with the children in the garden when you’re finished if you’d like to come find us,” she murmurs against his cheek and punctuates it with a kiss, offering him precisely what he needs after a long morning of dealing with Sect business - both with the affectionate gesture and with the promise of getting to enjoy spending time with her and their children.

He doesn’t mind being Sect Leader of course, and in fact the job is much easier these days than he had ever expected it to be when he had been a young teenager observing the workings of it under his father’s...less than dedicated hand. But he still privately thinks sometimes that he’s much more cut out for corralling his and Jiang Yanli’s children than he is the Jin Sect.

“Make sure Ling-er practices his sword forms, either against a training dummy or the twins if they want to play with him.”

Jiang Yanli’s quiet chuckle against his cheek is one of his favorite sounds in the world.

“You already know they’d love to team up and see if they can finally win against him. I’ll fetch their practice swords in case they want to use them. You’ll join us, won’t you?”

“Of course,” he reassures, turning his head to look up at her and meet her smile with one of his own. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

----

“All I’m saying Li-jie,” Mo Xuanyu posits loudly from the ground where he’s currently buried under a small mountain of gold robes, flailing limbs, and shrieks of laughter, “Is that if you’ve already got seven you might as well go for an even ten, wouldn’t that be satisfying?!”

“A-Yu,” Qin Su admonishes from a bench nearby, not even bothering to look up from her embroidery. “If you think the children need more playfellows I’m sure we could find you a wonderful husband to adopt your own children with.”

“Absolutely not! Can you imagine me as a father? Disastrous. But if you’re offering to play matchmaker I might actually take you up on that.”

“No matchmaking, you two,” Jin Zixuan sighs as he enters the private family garden and joins Jiang Yanli where she’s sitting at the edge of her lotus pond trailing her fingertips through the water and watching the chaos that is their family unfold around her with a beatific smile on her lips. “Please, I’m begging you, our family is already confusing enough and you’ve both promised me you have no intentions of marrying. Since when do you even want to get married, A-Yu?”

“Listen to me very carefully, A-Xuan - ” he starts with a meaningful waggle of his darkened brows, “I look at what A-Yao has, if you know what I mean, and then I look at what I have, and I just think there’s definitely some room for..improvement in my situation, that’s all.”

Jin Zixuan lifts his chin a bit to give his responding eye-roll the best effect he can while Jiang Yanli and Qin Su both giggle into their sleeves and Jin Ling makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat that carries all the way across the garden.

“Okay first of all, don’t talk about Uncle Jue and Uncle Chen like that, that’s disgusting.”

“Well they’re not my uncles, kid, I can talk about them however I want.”

“Second of all - hey! Quit calling me ‘kid’, we’re the same generation!”

“Enough, you two,” Zixuan sighs to head off the too-familiar argument that Mo Xuanyu is clearly working himself up for with one of his signature borderline-manic grins that makes most Sect Leaders shrink away in fear. “Lu-er, Xiao-Ye let your Uncle Yu get up off the ground, please.” It takes a moment for their two youngest daughters to untangle themselves from where they’ve tackled Mo Xuanyu to the ground but once they’re free they come running to him instead to clamber into his lap, little Jin Ye throwing her arms around his neck and snuggling into his chest immediately as Jin Lu tucks herself into his side under his free arm to start playing with his fingers.

Jin Zixuan sighs again as Mo Xuanyu makes a little show out of rolling to his feet and readjusting his hair and clothes, dabbing at his makeup to make sure nothing has smudged in the tussle. He dusts himself off one more time with a definitive pat before winking and turning his crooked grin on Jin Ling. Their eldest son is waiting for Jin Yu and Jin Yan to get their breath back from their latest bout against him - the twins leaning their weights on their wooden practice swords and clutching their sides - which means that he has no excuse not to listen to Mo Xuanyu’s teasing. (Jin Zhuang, he notices, is sitting on the other side of their sparring circle in a patch of shade cast by a tree and the side of the closest building - well away from the antics of his siblings - to alternate between watching the sparring and practicing his painting on a portable little desk balanced on his knees.)

“Listen to your wise old uncle, Xiao-Ling,” Mo Xuanyu teases, recalling Jin Zixuan’s attention to him and Jin Ling. “You’ll understand when you get to be my age just how nice it might be to have a big strong husband or two to look after you!”

“We’re classmates!!” Jin Ling insists again, beginning to sound desperate as his face goes bright red - though whether it’s out of embarrassment from the teasing about husbands or irritation at being needled about his age is unclear. Jin Zixuan suspects it’s a bit of both.

“A-Yu come help me finish unpacking from my trip before you send our nephew into qi-deviation. I’ll teach you a new huadian to wear as repayment,” Qin Su calls as she stands, graceful as ever. She tucks her embroidery into her sleeve and holds her arm out for Mo Xuanyu to take; he can never resist dramatic gestures and true to form his entire face lights up with mischievous delight, the expression exaggerated by the dark lines of kohl around his eyes, his painted lips, and his rouged cheeks. He bounds over to her to take her proffered arm with a comically genteel air, sweeping her gallantly from the courtyard towards her suite of rooms with such over-the-top fawning that they can hear her sweet laughter bouncing off of the nearby buildings even after they’ve turned the corner out of sight of the garden.

“Dad - ,” Jin Ling pouts, eyebrows drawn down.

“He’ll tire of the joke soon enough, A-Ling,” Jiang Yanli soothes with poorly-concealed mirth before Jin Zixuan can reply similarly. “There are worse things than having an uncle who enjoys a bit of teasing every now and then. Show your father your new sword forms now that you’re warmed up, you’ve been doing so well.”

Jin Zixuan settles his youngest daughters more comfortably in his arms as the twins return to their ready stances against their oldest brother, identical steely glints of focus in their eyes as they resume their sparring. Jin Zhuang brings his painting desk out of the shade to settle in with him and Jiang Yanli now that they’ve created a peaceful center for the family to orient themselves around, and Jin Zixuan feels his chest grow warm with affection as he relaxes into the soothing patterns of quality time with his children.

There are, he thinks, much worse ways to spend an afternoon.

----

Most people, Jin Zixuan thinks, would likely be surprised to find that as wild as their family is, dinners together are frequently calm affairs. Tonight is slightly more raucous than usual as Jin Fei has just returned from the first night hunt he’s led by himself, but it’s still much calmer than any outside observer would have reason to expect from them.

Jin Fei has finished giving his report - with none of the extra boasting that his older brother would pepper into the story were it his to tell - when Jiang Yanli clears her throat delicately for attention, which all of the children dutifully give her.  (Well, except for little Jin Ye, who’s busy clambering into Mo Xuanyu’s lap so that she can smile sweetly up at him to demand he feed her the rest of her dinner).

“We received a letter yesterday from your uncles in Cloud Recesses,” she begins with a soft smile, “and you all owe your Uncle Yu a thank you for asking Uncle Yao to come and visit - they have accepted his invitation and will arrive within the week.”

There’s a general excited commotion as all the children start talking at once - beginning with their thanks to Mo Xuanyu as instructed and then shouting to and over each other as they begin arguing over who’s going to get to spend the most time with them.

“WHAT?!” Mo Xuanyu practically screeches, much to Jin Ye’s displeasure if her pout and hands over her ears are anything to go by. “I’ve been bugging him for weeks and he writes to you to accept?! The nerve! The gall!”

“A-Yu,” Jiang Yanli giggles while Jin Zixuan glares at his youngest brother for daring to be offended by anything involving Jiang Yanli.

“Ah sorry Li-jie, sorry. But Su-jie, back me up! He should have replied to me!”

“Li-jie is Madam Jin,” Qin Su replies implacably with a soft smile at Jiang Yanli. “It is proper for him to address a request to visit us to her before you, and A-Yao always follows proper etiquette.”

“Betrayal,” he accuses with a jab of his chopsticks in her direction that’s firm enough to make the ornaments in his hair jingle. “Betrayal by my own jiejie, I don’t believe this. Xiao-Ye, can you believe your aunts?” He directs the last to the toddler in his lap who’s reaching out for one of his dumplings with a bare hand - he immediately pinches it between his chopsticks to hold it in front of her mouth for her so she can munch on little nibbles of it. “Xiao-Ye is the only person in this family who loves and respects me, I’m stealing her and running away with her to escape your cruelty.”

“That’s not true, Uncle Yu,” Jin Yan pipes up around her next bite, which she quickly swallows when Jin Zixuan gives her a look. “Uncle Xian thinks you’re alright sometimes too,” she teases with that wicked grin of hers and Jin Zixuan has to duck his head to hide a smile at the wounded noise Mo Xuanyu offers by way of reply before he settles in to grumble to himself while he feeds Jin Ye like the little princess she already is.

“Father?” Jin Zhuang says softly from where he has come to stand beside him. Jin Zixuan leans over a bit, away from the table, to make it easier for their third son to step close enough to speak as quietly as he likes. “May I show Uncle Chen my paintings?”

“I think he would like that, Zhuang-er, that’s a good idea,” Jin Zixuan replies in an undertone with a nod. “If you ask him to, he may even paint with you. Have you finished your dinner?” Jin Zhuang nods and steps closer to his side as there’s a sudden burst of laughter from Jin Yu and Jin Yan at whatever Jin Ling has just said. “Would you like to go somewhere quiet until it’s calmer in here?” Another nod from Jin Zhuang which Jin Zixuan returns with one of his own. “Alright, that’s fine. I’ll send Aunt Su to come and fetch you when your siblings and Uncle Yu have settled again, okay? Don’t go far.”

Jin Zhuang offers him a quick bump of his head against his before he retreats, slipping out of one of the side doors to go wait in the quiet of the hallway until things are less overwhelming. Jin Zixuan turns back to the rest of his family who are still discussing what they’d like to do now that they know they’ll have fresh entertainment.

“Do you think Uncle Jue will spar with all four of us at once? We could probably take him out, don’t you think A-Ling?”

“You two couldn’t even beat me and Uncle Jue is like, twice my age!”

“Size, too,” Jin Fei drawls.

“Well we can’t all be Nies, and you’re still shorter than me!” Jin Ling huffs with a punch to his second brother’s shoulder.

“Shut up you two, stop arguing for just five minutes, you’re so annoying. Yanyan is right - four of us together against one, we could do it!”

“You want to fight Uncle Jue?!” Jin Lu pipes up in horror. “Why?!!”

“It’s alright A-Lu, don’t be upset. It’s the same reason the four of us train with our swords together, or like when we practice with dad sometimes,” Jin Fei is quick to reassure while Jin Ling is busy sticking his tongue out at the twins. “It’s fun for us and it’s good training, we don’t want to actually hurt Uncle Jue.”

“He’ll kick your bratty little butts anyway, and I’ll bet he does it without even breaking a sweat,” Mo Xuanyu asserts as he wipes Jin Ye’s face clean with a bit of his sleeve. “There you go sweetheart, all done. Go sit with your mom so Uncle Yu can finish eating.” Jin Ye stands up obediently to come around the table, clamber into Jiang Yanli’s extended arms to settle in the cradle of her lap, and promptly close her eyes.

“He would not!” Jin Ling argues instantly, of course.

“Would so. He’s been training with a saber - bigger than a sword, remember - since he was younger than you and I were when we first touched our swords, Lingling. And A-Fei is right, he’s got height, weight, and bulk on his side. He’ll kick your butts.”

“Well I want to try anyway,” Jin Yu reasserts as Jin Yan nods along beside her. “If nothing else we can turn it into a game to see just how quickly he can beat us, if it turns out we really can’t beat him.”

“Oh that’s a good idea. A-Zhuang could keep score, right? Hey. Where’d he go?” Jin Ling looks around sharply, searching for his third brother.

“You were all yelling so he left,” Jin Yan supplies, talking with her mouth full again.

“Oh. Oops.”

“You can apologize when he comes back,” Qin Su offers before looking at Jiang Yanli. “Li-jie, we should arrange to have tea with just A-Yao at least a few times while they’re here. He needs to catch us up on his gossip and we need to tell him ours.”

“I’m sure he’ll accept, it’s been far too long since the three of us have sat down to talk together,” Jiang Yanli replies, and as if by magic the atmosphere settles again as the children respond automatically to the gentle steadiness of their mother and aunt. “I believe Zhuang-er will be able to come back in now,” Jiang Yanli adds with a pointed look at the children that warns them to keep their calm for the rest of the meal for their brother’s sake.

They all nod and return to eating and chatting at a more reasonable volume as Qin Su rises to poke her head out into the corridor. She returns immediately with Jin Zhuang at her side, his hand in hers until he releases it to return to his seat between the twins.

“A-Zhuang,” Jin Fei says once he’s seated across from him. “We’re sorry for being too loud. If we come up with a game to play with Uncle Jue can you keep score for us? You’re the best at watching and keeping track of what happens while we spar. A-Lu can call out whatever you need to say to us while we play.”

Jin Zhuang takes a long moment to consider this in silence, as is his habit, before he nods once firmly and picks up his teacup to take a slow sip while his older brothers and sisters grin first at him then at each other.

“This is going to be so fun,” Jin Lu gushes with a dreamy little sigh into her soup that makes all of her older siblings laugh, even Jin Zhuang with his silent chuckle hidden behind his hand.

Jin Zixuan looks around the table at their family - loving, loud, wild, and theirs, and, not for the first time nor the last, wonders just how in the world he got so lucky.

----

By some small miracle, he and Jiang Yanli manage to gather all the children and get them looking presentable enough in time to greet their uncles when they arrive several days later. He looks for some sign as they approach that something is secretly wrong to have prompted the visit, but they seem alright at first glance. Of course any closer examination that could possibly tell him otherwise is abruptly made completely impossible when they’re promptly swarmed by all of the children save for Jin Ling and Jin Fei, both of whom are too old to run to them and cling around waists and knees to better clamor for gifts and stories with the rest of their siblings.

Jin Zixuan can only shake his head with fond dismay as he watches Jin Ye immediately try to cling to Meng Yao in between his husbands while Jin Zhuang drifts over to stop next to Lan Xichen so that he can stay away from the main hubbub and still slip one hand into his uncle’s with amusing gravity. Jin Lu studies the three of them for a moment before she decides to hug Lan Xichen first as he’s the easiest target, her tiny arms wrapping tightly around his legs as she clings. Nie Mingjue, of course, is immediately swamped by the twins who flank him to start talking about something with broad gestures - he sees Jin Yan make a stabbing motion after a moment and Jin Zixuan realizes they’re likely talking about their newest obsession - knives. A father’s dream.

“Out of my way brats, those are my brothers!” Mo Xuanyu suddenly shouts as he comes streaking out from the nearest building, practically a blur of black and red aimed straight at Meng Yao who has lifted little Jin Ye up in front of himself in his arms to better listen to her intently as she babbles to him.

“A-Yu!” Jin Zixuan chastises tiredly with a sigh even as Nie Mingjue sticks an arm out to catch Mo Xuanyu in midair right at the last moment before he can barrel into any of the children or Meng Yao, who, to his credit, hasn’t even twitched (though Jin Zixuan is absolutely sure that he knew Mo Xuanyu had been running straight for him). He always manages to forget how strong Nie Mingjue is until he sees an example like that; he hadn’t even jolted when Mo Xuanyu’s full weight had collided with his arm, and while Jin Zixuan won’t ever claim to be attracted to any of his brothers-in-law, he’s also not blind to the virtues of men. He can at least admit that he doesn’t fault Mo Xuanyu for his desire to find someone like that for himself.

“Mo Xuanyu,” Nie Mingjue greets, as gruff as ever with his brows drawn low over his eyes and his expression stony. He stares just long enough to make Mo Xuanyu laugh a bit nervously before he drops him back on his feet to reach down and pick up Jin Lu, who has released Lan Xichen in favor of tugging on Nie Mingjue’s belt and holding her arms up to him in silent request. She settles happily on his hip like she belongs there as he resumes his conversation with the twins, her head instantly landing on his shoulder and one hand curling around the collar of his robes as she snuggles in. 

As always, watching his brother and brothers-in-law interact with the children does something funny in his chest, and just as he’s thinking of reaching down to take Jiang Yanli’s hand next to his to try to do something with that feeling, she slips it comfortably into the crook of his elbow as she lays her head on his shoulder in silent understanding and agreement.

There will be a formal banquet to welcome them later, of course. But for now the only people around are the members of the family themselves and those who have been living and working in Jinlintai long enough to have seen the rather informal comings and goings of every member of the extended family. There’s nothing official about this greeting, just loved ones reuniting. Happy. Together.

Jin Zixuan glances over to Jin Ling at his left when his son nudges him with an elbow only to find him smirking over at him. His son doesn’t even have to look up at him to do it anymore, and Jin Zixuan still can’t quite pinpoint when that happened.

“Tearing up, dad?” Jin Ling jokes, jerking his chin up in a proud gesture that Jin Zixuan will deny having ever been the example for him to learn from until the day he dies.

“You say that like he doesn’t cry every time any of our uncles come to visit,” Jin Fei sighs from the other side of Jiang Yanli. His posture is relaxed enough - he’s got his arms crossed loosely behind himself and his head tipped back as if studying the clouds and his tone is light and easy. The laid-back attitude is only marred by the fact that there’s clearly a teasing smirk dancing on his lips. “You didn’t cry for me when I got back from my night hunt the other evening. Should I be jealous, dad?”

“Boys,” Jiang Yanli cuts in to chastise with all the affection she can muster - which is, of course, quite a lot. “Your father enjoys having everyone home, that’s all. Be good and go say hello to your uncles, I’m sure they’ve missed you.”

They snicker but step away without any further argument, closing ranks immediately to walk across the courtyard shoulder-to-shoulder so they can put their heads together to laugh about something - Jin Zixuan, most likely.

“They look alright, don’t you think?” Jiang Yanli murmurs.

“I do. I’ll ask A-Yao to be sure when I can see him in private, but I think you were right - there doesn’t seem to be anything urgent.”

“A relaxed family visit, then,” she sighs happily, clearly smiling as she nuzzles her cheek a little more firmly against his shoulder and he drops a kiss to the top of her head before she straightens back up again. “It’ll be so lovely to have them here.”

“I’ve missed them,” he admits for her ears alone and Jiang Yanli squeezes the crook of his elbow in silent understanding.

[ethvn-torchio]

Walls Could Talk | Chapter Two

a/n: sorry this chapter took so long! writer’s block is a bitch 😩✌

Summary: Steve and Peggy's search brings them to Paris - where they happen to meet up with an old friend.

Warnings: an intense makeout session/implied sexual content (it’s not smut, i haven’t decided if I’m putting actual smut in this fic)

Wordcount: 1.5k (unedited, also I'm sorry it's so short 🙃)

AO3 | prev chapter | next chapter (coming soon!)

ᴏᴄᴛ 𝟸𝟿, 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟿

ᴏxғᴏʀᴅ, ᴇɴɢʟᴀɴᴅ

Steve wakes up in a cold sweat, bolting upright in bed. Was he still dreaming? Was this...was this real?

He gazes at Peggy - to make sure she was there, that all of this wasn't a mere fantasy, who begins to stir.

So, not a dream then, at least. His heart is racing, his mind buzzing and yet still confused and his breathing erratic. She's speaking to him, saying something, and he isn't quite listening, his heart thundering his ears. Adrenaline surges through his veins.

“I’m...I’m sorry, Peg. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he whispers. His pulse was still racing.

Lightning illuminates the room for a split second and he can see the sympathy in her eyes.

"It's quite alright, Darling. Will you tell me what's wrong?" She asks, trailing her fingers through his hair.

"I...I don't- I don't remember much," he admits. "It was just...some stuff from the past...or, future..." he could almost laugh at that if he was in a better mood.

She nods sympathetically. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He drinks in her appearance, nodding slightly. He presses his lips against hers softly.

He kisses her, gently and imploringly at first.

His one hand softly trails down her back, and he notices her sharp intake of breath when his hand ghosts over her lower back.

"This hurt?" he asks.

She nods stiffly. "I do believe I forgot to tell you with everything that happened tonight. I had a bit of a scuffle in the restroom with a Hydra agent. She slammed me against the sink," Peggy explains.

An idea forms in Steve's head; a single minded goal to make her forget.

He would make the only thing on her mind be him.

Wordlessly, he smiles and dips his head towards her neck, brushing his lips against it. His teeth graze against a sensitive spot on her neck and she makes a soft "Oh,"

His hands go to rest against either of her thighs. He pulls back, pupils blown.

“Steve,” she whispers. She lifts her hips in a silent invitation.

He leans down to kiss her, his lips against hers, and she's already breathless. He doesn't want to rush things, but he can't resist her.

Her hand slides down his back, and she lets out a soft moan against his mouth. His hands trail up her shirt, he can feel the goosebumps on her skin. He kisses her neck, and she can feel his hot breath against her skin.

"God, you're so beautiful. I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too," she replies.

He pulls her in for a desperate kiss once again, pulling her close.

—

The rain came and went, and with it sunshine followed.

“Peggy. Peggy, wake up,” is the first thing Peggy is greeted with in the morning.

Peggy groans, rolling over in an effort to ignore him. “No, not now,” she mutters, burying her face in the pillow.

Peggy feels weight on the bed as Steve sits down next to her. She tries in vain to ignore him.

"Oh, c'mon now, Peg. It's a new day, it's time to get up," he says.

“You are far too cheerful considering how early it is,” Peggy complains, shielding her eyes from the light pouring in from the blinds.

“...Peggy, it’s eleven in the morning.”

Peggy groans, glancing at the clock as if to make sure he’s right. “Point withstanding, you’re still too cheerful.”

“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Steve teases, narrowly missing a pillow flung haphazardly at him.

“Do shut up, Steve.”

He snickers.

Peggy yawns, stretching her sleep-infused joints. "Where are we going, again?"

"Word is our target's in Paris,” Steve replies. “Or at the very least, someone important is.”

Peggy hums, sitting up. The blanket wrapped around her falls off, revealing her bruised back.

"Jesus, Peg. Have you seen your back? That looks like it hurts," Steve notes.

"Yes, thank you for that insightful observation."

"I just mean- do you want ice or something?"

Peggy shrugs nonchalantly. "It doesn’t quite hurt. I can deal with it, I’ve faced worse."

“To be fair, you are the woman who fell asleep standing up in a trench.”

“Exactly,” Peggy winks. She stands up, beginning to sift through her suitcase. “So tell me, Steve. When’s our train leaving?”

—

ᴘᴀʀɪs, ғʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

A few hours later, they arrive at their dingy, rundown hotel just outside of Paris. The lobby smells like bleach and old carpet, and a radio plays a somber, mellow jazz tune.

Peggy clears her throat, waiting for the receptionist to acknowledge them.

The receptionist does not, however, care to notice.

“Can we have a room, please?” Peggy asks the woman at the front desk.

The woman hardly looks up from her magazine. “Name?”

“Carver,” Peggy answers automatically before Steve can.

The receptionist takes a long, seemingly never ending sip of her tea. Finally, she says. “Take the elevator to the third room, first one on the left. Here’s your key,” the woman says, sounding as disinterested as she possibly can. “Enjoy your stay,” she adds dryly.

Peggy eyes her warily. There was something a bit...off, about that woman.

Perhaps it was just her imagination.

They make their way to the elevator, and Steve finally breaks the silence. “So...is it just me or was there something weird about her? I mean, she could’ve just been a disgruntled employee, but…” he trails off, scratching the back of his neck.

Peggy hums. “No, I happen to agree. Though, perhaps we were just inconveniencing her by making her do her job.”

The smile fades from her face. “Stop,” Peggy whispers. She tilts her head toward the door, which was ajar. She clutches her gun in her purse.

Steve snorts. “Maybe,”

She laughs right along with him, but she pauses abruptly outside their door.

It could be the maid...but they haven’t even gotten into the room once.

Silently, the two stalk toward the door. The smell of smoke escapes from the room when Steve nudges the door open.

Which, in both of their experiences, usually did not happen to be a good thing.

In the chair in the corner, there sat...

Howard Stark.

A collective groan escapes the couple.

“Howard, must you break into our hotel room?” Peggy scolds, turning on the light.

“We thought you were an intruder.” Steve adds.

Howard smirks, taking a long drag of his cigar. “Technically, I am. But don’t you kids worry - I bring a peace offering. By peace offering, I mean I’m inviting you to stay in my Paris apartment instead of this dump,” Howard gestures loosely. “I mean, I don’t think this building even has heat.”

Steve shrugs. “Wouldn’t it be better to stay somewhere inconspicuous?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Peggy agrees, her arms crossed.

Howard sniffs. “Okay, fine, don’t accept my extremely generous offer to let you stay at my apartment. I know when I’m not wanted. Just know I’ll remember that in the summer when you want to come over because I have air conditioning and you don’t.”

Peggy rolls her eyes. “Quit the melodramatics, Howard. We’ll stay with you,”

Steve wraps an arm around her. “Yeah, we- wait, we will?”

“...What? This building doesn’t have heat, and quite frankly I enjoy summer visits to Howard’s house.”

“Attagirl, Peg.” Howard beams. “I’ll meet you two in the lobby,”

—

Later, the trio eats lunch at Howard’s apartment.

"-you are not funny, Howard." Peggy informs him, pointing at him with her fork. "You could've at least feigned innocence."

"Innocent? If you looked up "innocent' in the dictionary, you'd see my picture on it," Howard says defensively.

Peggy snorts at that. "Oh, please, Howard. With your history you could easily father a small country,"

Howard grimaces. "Eugh, kids hate me. Plus, who has time to tend to a baby all the time? I mean sure, kids probably aren't annoying when they're...late teenagers? But for most of their lives, kids just seem so clingy and needy."

Steve picks at his plate absentmindedly, reminded of a conversation he had with Tony.

"Clearly, you must've met a different version of my father. He was cold. He was calculating. He never told me he loved me, he never even told me he liked me."

The sound of Peggy’s voice brings him back to reality. "...That's because they're children, Howard. Babies aren't self-sufficient from birth. Do you expect them to come out of the womb ready for rocket science?"

"Well, thank you for absolutely shattering my argument, Agent Carter." Howard mutters, downing his coffee. Deciding to change the subject in order to deflect attention off of himself, he says, "Steve, you still with us?"

Steve snaps to attention. "I, uh, yeah. I was just daydreaming, I guess."

Peggy makes a mental note to ask Steve about that later.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Howard asks.

Steve shrugs noncommittally, continuing to eat with much less gusto than before. "Just thinking about our mission,”

Peggy eyes him carefully, choosing to say nothing but clearly knowing something was wrong. In due time, she would ask.

In due time hopefully meant whenever Howard left the room.

—

lmao so like i was listening to a bunch of james bond songs bc they’re dramatic and spy-ey right (cough cough tho a song that fits the general tone of the fic would be "the world is not enough" by garbage)?? and then there’s absolutely none of that in this chapter lmao. sorry if this chapter was boring compared to last one but i mean we can’t have constant action in the fic, silly goose. 

also can we talk about how it took me like 8 DAYS TO WRITE THIS and it’s this short i’m sorry ajsjdfkgjjklk 😶✌

taglist (dm me if you’d like to be added!):

everything taglist: @return-of-the-simp​ @thereblogcrusader @stillmourningtonystark ​

walls could talk taglist: @deedepee​ @rizwritesfandom​ (extra thanks to riz for helping me when i was struggling with being descriptive u a real one) @mcu-academy​​

If you enjoyed, please rb/leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

[bluewithpurplepolkadots]

Honestly think enemies to lovers, at least if we’re talking kids/family content where the general idea is supposed to be ~true love~? Only really works say if you do it with the main character with an antagonist they interact with a lot.

This isn’t to say they’ll always be good/a good idea even when they meet this mark (looking at you Star Wars) but like relationships need some time to develop and you generally need even more when you’re starting from a negative point.

Like canonically speaking anyway. Fanfics can make someone else the main character if they want to easily. That’s fine really. (Also focus a lot more on romance than canon might care to or should do depending but that’s another topic).

A Disney example of needing time to develop would probably be Beauty and the Beast, though of course thats partly due to the original fairytale. But it’s a larger slow burn of a romance compared to their other movies and it’s kind of by design. It might not be enemies to lovers technically but starting from such a negative point means more time is needed for it to be realistic. Also they are of course the main characters to boot. And the main focus point is the romance itself. And so it all works very well in its favour and is a reason it’s considered one of their best.

It’s just that I sometimes see people across fandoms which are for canon works which aren’t largely romantic. And certain sections can argue that in canon the main character‘s love interest should instead end up with the main antagonist and I could see… problems with that conceptually.

Because said love interest is not a main character (they might be like the third most important character after these two but they still really aren’t). They don’t really interact as much as the main character and antagonist and, for a long time, often are only deeply linked by the main character anyway. They don’t really tend give epic destiny vibes on the same level as say the main character does to the antagonist or the main character to their love interest for that matter. It generally feels a bit weak. The weakest corner of the triangle. And often the time needed to make the relationship realistic isn’t worth what would be sacrificed in the original story.

Like it’s a fine fanfic idea, go for it, (as above you can change who the main character is for your fic, focus more on romance etc) but it would have been very stupid if the show runners had went for it.

Granted maybe a part of why it can get popular is because it’s more of a sandbox to play in given a scantier amount of content: but it’s the insistence some have of it being canon that doesn’t make sense to me really. And would probably box you in to your own dissatisfaction as it wasn’t as great as what you imagined.