#christine you always give me prompts that inspire me to write such fun and silly things

[mutedsilence]

💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕🎈

Hmm. I found this question quite hard. But, I think that's bc I tried to over think it.

I have 2 fics I'm very happy with.

The first one is 'Birthdays. Don't. Matter.' It's a Johnlock fic where John learns about Sherlock's birthday. It also explains why Sherlock had never shared his birthday before. John loves Sherlock and although he's not told him, he wants to show him how loved he truly is. I've added a link to it if anyone is interested. I am proud of this one as the flashback to Sherlock's childhood is directly inspired by my own. I would sit at the window waiting just for no one to show up. I've not celebrated my birthday in several years now, and no one really knows when it is.

The second isn't finished yet. It's a slow burn called 'don't make me fuck you in space' . I'll put a little except under the cut. It's an ironstrange fic that is set after NYC attack. Stephen hasn't had the accident yet and Tony is struggling with his PTSD. All Tony wants, is to be near the man he had fallen in love with. Stephen just wants to be left alone. I am so far really liking this one as it started out as just a silly little prompt I saw but it has turned into something deeper. I'm hoping to delve into Tony's mental health issues as well as go into Stephen's. It has completely taken a life of its own. What was going to be a fun little shot, it is now a longer fic that will have a sequel.

Anyway, thank you so much for asking this. I don't tend to think about my fics. I just love to write so once it's posted, I hardly go back to them.

An Excerpt from, 'Don't Make Me Fuck You in Space'

The door opened automatically when he arrived. The room wasn't large. One wall had been made into a large window. Staring out into space and seeing Earth perfectly. There were two rows of benches with cushions along. The door was directly opposite the window. In the front left corner, Stephen could see Tony. He had headphones on and was drinking a can of rockstar. 

Stephen gave a quick look over the rest of the room and started walking towards Tony. 

Tony didn't give any indication that he knew he was no longer alone. He kept staring out the window. 

"Tony?" 

Nothing. He repeated himself. This time Tony took off his headphones. He still didn't move. 

Stephen took a deep breath. Preparing to apologise and make things right, instead what came out his mouth was, "Those are terrible for your heart." He always felt more comfortable hiding behind medicine. It was easier. He wasn't even sure how Tony had gotten it. It would have had to have been included in the initial packing, but who would let a man with heart problems bring an energy drink with him to space? It didn't make sense. Then again, Tony gave the impression that no one could stop him from doing anything. 

Tony smiled in response to the terrible joke. He tipped the can towards Stephen in offering. He was about to decline when he realised if he drank it, Tony wouldn't. He took it and drank some. He remembered how many he used to drink while he was still a student. He hadn't had one since. "I wanted you," 

Stephen looked towards Tony. He was still looking out the window and he was talking quietly. Almost for his ears only. "I saw you, and I wanted you. No one else. You didn't even see me," Stephen had no idea what Tony was talking about, but didn't want to disrupt him. They were finally talking - sorta. "You came into my examination room, asked my doctor where someone was," He smiled at the memory while Stephen struggled to place it. "I already had planned to go to space, I was going to come alone," Tony turned to face Stephen then, "I knew then - when I saw you - that I didn't want to be alone anymore." 

He didn't know what to say. 

He placed the memory. He had gotten a message on his pager from Christine, and had gone to find her. He noticed that Dr West had been in a nearby room and quickly popped in. He hardly noticed the patient. Dismissing them immediately as they were not Dr West. He had told him where to find Christine and he left without another word. He could see Tony now. Blood speckled over him. His mouth slightly open as he looked at him in the doorway. He was hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV. He had been ignored - now Stephen was saddened by his past self. This memory clearly meant something to Tony and he had practically forgotten about it. 

Looking at Tony's face, he could see the blood that had marked him before. 

He lifted his hand to Tony's face as if to wipe it away. His words turned in his mind. And he realised that maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to be alone either.

[solarmorrigan]

43. “YOU DID WHAT?!” for whichever pairing suits your fancy :D

Christiiiiiiine <3<3

Thank you for the prompt! I decided I fancy Newmann because I've missed writing those goons over the last few weeks. I also did not try to keep this one short at all, honestly. I had an idea and I ran with it. It was very much fun to write!

#43. “YOU DID WHAT?!”

-

Hermann has absolutely no idea what’s come over him, but he’s chosen a deeply inconvenient time to completely lose his mind.

Clearly, he’s been spending too much time around Newton. That must be it. Spending years in close quarters with that man and his kaiju bits has damaged Hermann’s psyche.

It’s just not like him to give into impulse.

(Never mind that his application to the Jaeger Academy had been something of an impulse – that had ended with Hermann firmly installed in the PPDC, doing good for humanity. That had obviously been a wise decision. This, on the other hand – there is no way this will end well.)

Hermann barely registers his morning trek to the lab, bypassing the mess hall entirely, too anxious to consider stomaching breakfast. He had hoped that a good night’s sleep might provide a solution to his problem, or at least put it into better perspective, but sleep had been elusive and things seemed just as abysmal as they had before he’d put on his pajamas.

When Hermann arrives, Newton is already set up at his work table, abominable morning person that he is, and Hermann gives him the briefest of acknowledging nods on his way to his desk. He is absolutely not in the mood to deal with Newton’s nonsense this morning; he needs to come up with a solution to the… situation he’s created for himself.

Not unlike the way cats always manage to home in on the person who least wants attention from a cat, however, Newton seems to sense Hermann’s reticence and decides to poke at it.

“Dude, you look rough. Did you sleep at all?” Newton hollers from his station.

“Did you?” Hermann spits back reflexively (it’s a fair question, after all, as Newton pulls frequent all-nighters – it’s not a childish comeback in the slightest).

“I did, actually. Like, five whole hours,” Newton reports proudly. “So what crawled up your ass?”

“Perhaps it’s your charming turns of phrase that have put me in this mood,” Hermann replies.

“Nah, you walked into the lab looking ready to kill someone.” A miniscule sliver of concern works itself into Newton’s tone as he goes on, “You’re not sick or something, are you?”

“If only,” Hermann mutters, and there is a near instant flutter of activity from Newton’s side of the lab.

Tools clatter against the metal tray, nitrile gloves snap with removal, and the quick one-two stomp of Newton’s boots sounds off as he approaches Hermann’s desk.

“Okay, I was just kind of teasing before, but now I’m seriously curious,” Newton says, leaning one hip against the desk like Hermann has told him not to do a thousand times. “What happened?”

“Don’t you have work to be doing?”

“Nice try, but it’ll keep. Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s not actually any of your business, you know.”

“You made it my business when you came grumping into the lab, and if you don’t tell me I will become more annoying than you could possibly imagine,” Newton says gravely.

He reaches out, one finger extended, clearly angling to poke Hermann in the side, and Hermann smacks him away.

“If you must know, I had a phone call form my father last night,” Hermann snaps.

“Oh.” Newton’s face falls. “What’d that jerk have to say?”

Herman drops his head into his hand with a sigh. “Just the usual. I’m wasting valuable time, the PPDC is a drain on the world’s resources, the Wall of Life is where I should be focusing my energy and… so on.” He waves his free hand in a vague et cetera motion.

Somewhere above him, Newton huffs. “What kind of insecure dick has to schedule a phone call with his own kid just to gloat about his shiny new doomed project?”

Hermann allows himself a tiny, momentary smile at Newton’s indignation on his behalf. “Yes, well. I was doing just fine with the usual non-answers, until the topic became more familial.”

Newton is quiet this time, but Hermann knows that he’s still paying rapt attention.

“It seems Bastien—my younger brother—it seems he’s gotten engaged. And of course, Dietrich has his wife and the twins, and Karla has had a serious partner for a few years now, which makes me the last of his children without any… romantic prospects.” Hermann frowns at the mental replay of the conversation. “And he intimated that perhaps I wouldn’t be alone if I weren’t squandering my talents and disgracing myself with loyalty to dying project, and if I were simply to apply myself–”

“What an asshole!” Newton exclaims. “I hope you told him to fuck off!”

“Not… precisely, no,” Hermann says slowly.

Newton tilts his head in acknowledgement. “Yeah, I guess that’s not really your style. Well, I hope you at least told him to mind his own goddamn business.”

Hermann clears his throat, sinking down a bit in his chair. “Not as such.”

“Well what did you tell him?”

Pursing his lips for a moment, Hermann turns his head and mutters the answer into the palm of his hand.

Newton nudges him. “Dude, what?”

Hermann moves his hand and instead mumbles his answer at the surface of his desk.

“Oh my god, Hermann, just tell me,” Newton groans, nudging him harder this time.

Hermann snaps, slapping his hand down on the desk and barking up at Newton, “I told him that I do have a partner!”

“YOU DID WHAT?!” Newton practically shrieks in return, delighted and shocked in equal measure. “You lied? Wait– was that a lie? Are you actually seeing someone?”

Hermann pinches the bridge of his nose, as if that will stave off the enormous headache this entire production has become. “No, Newton, I am not seeing anyone. I lied to my father.”

“Nice! That’s kinda badass, man.” Newton grins down at him. “Did that shut him up?”

Hermann says nothing, and Newton’s grin slides away.

“Lemme guess: not precisely.”

“As it turns out, he’ll be in Hong Kong at the end of the week on business,” Hermann says. “He happens to have some free space in his schedule on Friday evening, and he’d like to have dinner with me… and my partner.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Indeed.”

There is a moment of stunned silence.

“So… what’re you going to do?” Newton asks at last.

“That is exactly what’s put me in such a foul mood,” Hermann says. “But I suppose I’ll just have to find a way out of dinner. It’s not as though I’d be able to find a date in time, much less someone who I might pass off as my partner.”

There is another moment of silence, and then:

“Dude.”

Hermann looks up at Newton, who is grinning again and has his arms spread out at his sides, as if to say “look”.

There is something about this Hermann is meant to understand, he’s certain of it. Unfortunately, he has no idea what it is, and he spends a long minute staring at Newton in blank irritation.

Curling his fingers in, Newton points both of his thumbs towards himself and raises his eyebrows.

All at once, Hermann catches the meaning.

“Good god, no.”

Newton ignores him. “I am totally free Friday night, and I could totally be your fake date to fool your dick dad!”

“That is a terrible idea,” Hermann says firmly.

“Dude, we’ve known each other most of our adult lives. I am uniquely qualified for this shit!” Newton insists.

“We have never managed to pass a twenty-four hour period without getting into an argument.”

“That sounds like an exaggeration.”

“We’re arguing right now!”

“Because you’re being a stubborn dick!”

“And now you’re calling me names. Yes, that’s certain to fool my father!”

“Oh my god, Hermann,” Newton groans, dragging his hands dramatically down his face. “Look, you’ve got two options. One, you can pretend to be sick or buried in work or whatever and skip dinner, and then never hear the end of it from your dad, or–”

“Or, I can engage in an ill-conceived hoax pulled straight from a schlocky romance novel,” Hermann drawls. “Yes, Newton, what an excellent idea.”

“Ill-conceived. Psht,” Newton scoffs. “Obviously we’d come up with a great backstory.”

“Newton–”

“We wouldn’t even have to change that much–”

“Newton–”

“Just invent a romantic relationship for, what? The last year or two? Kinda serious but not too–”

“Newton, this is nonsense!” Hermann finally snaps

“Jesus, don’t you want to shut your dad up just once?” Newton snaps right back.

“I–” Whatever Hermann had been about to argue dries up in his throat as he considers the possibility; yes, he would very much like to concretely prove his father wrong, prove that he isn’t undesirable and alone, but this…

Sensing weakness, Newton pushes on. “Besides, it’s, like, hardly even a lie! I mean, no, obviously we’re not dating, but we’re… I mean, friends, right? So you’ve got someone and you’re not actually alone and your dad’s full of shit and we could shove it in his face!”

It’s official: Hermann has absolutely lost his damned mind.

“You realize he’ll want to go to a formal restaurant,” Hermann says. “None of your usual dives, or ramen bars, or what have you. You’ll have to dress nicely.”

“I am eighty-five percent certain I remembered to take my suit to the drycleaners after our last fancy-dress ass-kissing party,” Newton replies with far greater confidence than Hermann thinks is warranted.

“You’ll have to be on your best behavior,” Hermann insists.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever.” Newton waves his hand, as if he can shoo away the limitations imposed on him by polite society. “So does this mean you’re in?”

Hermann sighs, draping one hand over his eyes. “Unfortunately.”

“Yes!” Newton laughs, and Hermann knows without having to see that he’s just punched the air in triumph. “I’m gonna dig up my suit, and we can come up with a backstory – we should have dinner tonight, or something, so we can go over details. Make sure we’re on the same page. This is gonna be great, Hermann, you’ll see!”

Newton’s voice echoes back towards Hermann as he returns to his own side of the lab, and Hermann allows himself to relax just a little in his chair. Perhaps this isn’t the worst idea Newton’s ever talked Hermann into.

“Hey,” Newton calls across the divide, “you don’t think your dad remembers me from the time at that one gala when I, like, accidentally-on-purpose spilled punch down his shirt, do you?”

Hermann groans. This is going to be a disaster.