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violetsareblue-selfships · 1 year

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Twins?

Ship: Raiden Ei x April [Background EiMiko x April] | Word Count: 1473 | Warnings/Tags: First Person POV, food mention, very mild jealousy (like hinted at mostly)

A/N: happy birthday, ei~ -- so it's interesting that she was like alluding to makoto in her birthday letter when I already planned on posting this today hehe <3 I hope you enjoy it~

Hearing that I've been summoned to Tenshukaku would ordinarily be a cause for concern. Why would the Raiden Shogun call for someone personally if they weren't in trouble or needed for something?

But after our last date together, both Yae and Raiden have expressed a desire to have one-on-one dates with me. I get it. They likely want to see if I act different or show a different side of myself to them alone.

If we're going to keep dating, it was bound to happen eventually.

Yae hasn't yet found me for a date, but it seems that Raiden's found enough free time to call me to her.

So, instead of panicking and rushing there like the same announcement would have caused me to weeks ago, I smile and thank the soldiers and ask for a moment to get ready. They relax a little at the fact I didn't try to send them away (apparently Raiden had requested they accompany me there so I didn't get stopped at the gates).

I dress up a tiny bit, switching out my plain shirt for a pretty blouse and deciding that the skirt I'm wearing is pretty enough. I grab a light jacket in case the wind picks up as well as my keys and everything else I usually leave the house with.

"Hmm…" It feels a bit odd to be going to Tenshukaku without anything to give to Raiden. I hear it's considered good etiquette to bring her something, and while this may not be usual circumstances, it likely would still be a good idea…

I scan the room for literally anything, my eyes brightening when I spot the tray of brownies I had made earlier. I pack a few of them up, enough that she could give some to Yae if she so desires, and I finally leave my house.

"Are you ready to go?" One of the soldiers asks and I nod. They accompany me the entire walk, which feels a little weird.

Everyone in town is staring at me. No doubt they think I've done something wrong to be accompanied by the Shogunate soldiers like this, but I wonder if my calmness is confusing them. Normally a person would look anxious, not like they're headed to afternoon tea.

Once we set foot into Tenshukaku, there's another person waiting to accompany me to the room Raiden's in. I thank them and follow behind them, surprised to hear two voices coming from the room as we draw close, both voices sounding similar.

My questions are both answered and doubled when I'm allowed to enter the room. Is this some kind of trick of my imagination? There are two of them sitting in front of me.

It's a little odd the way their expressions both soften, though in slightly different ways. I feel a sense of familiarity with one more than the other, even though they're identical, I can still tell somehow. The one on the right is the Raiden I've been going out with along with Yae. The one on the left… I don't know what to make of her.

"Hmm, I suppose this was a confusing way to do this." My Raiden says, her expression turning apologetic. "I should have considered how odd it would be for you."

"So you're twins?" I ask quietly, looking between the two.

"In a way." My Raiden holds her hand out to me and I step forward to take it, allowing her to pull me to sit beside her. "April, meet my sister, Makoto."

Makoto smiles at me. "Sorry to have confused you. It is lovely to meet the girl Ei's talking so sweetly about."

"It's nice to meet you too." I say softly. She's nice, really sweet actually. Not that Ei isn't, Ei just has a more stoic side to her at times.

"What is it you have there?" She asks and I blink. I'd nearly forgotten the brownies in my hands. If I had known about Makoto, I would have packed more…

I pass the package over to Raiden (is it too early for me to call her Ei?) and she opens them up, gasping softly at the sight of the brownies. It makes Makoto smile and she giggles at my confusion. "Didn't you know? My sister has a weak spot for desserts."

"Ah, I didn't. I made some this morning and figured it'd be a good enough thing to bring… Besides, I thought this was going to be…" I trail off and Raiden looks at me.

"It is what you're thinking. I merely wanted to introduce you to Makoto. You'd need to meet her eventually given that you might run into her out on the streets of Inazuma City." Raiden explains and I nod. I could see why she'd need to explain.

"How is it I never knew there were two of you?" I ask quietly. It would be major news to have twin archons or is only one of them the archon? I don't know the specifics here…

"We rule jointly. You would have never needed to know if not for the way you're growing close to Miko and I." Raiden says and I hum.

Makoto smiles a little. "We're both good at different things so we each handle what our strengths are. Which is why you would see me in Inazuma City. I tend to be the one interacting most directly with our people."

"Okay. If no one knows that you're twins, then in public, should I treat you both the same?" I ask, more referring to the way I'm dating Raiden than anything.

"Mm. Most likely, yes. Hand-holding and hugs would be fine." Raiden says, her eyes flashing a little. "However, I'd prefer to keep anything else to just us."

Makoto laughs. "Calm down, sister. I think she meant the first two. It would be confusing for the people for her to not be close to us on certain days."

"True." Raiden says with a sigh. "I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me."

"Yes, you do!" Makoto teases. "You were the same way with Miko when you introduced her to me."

Raiden huffs and Makoto laughs, leaning over and patting her shoulder softly. "I think I'll take my leave now. Have fun, you two." With that, she carefully rises to her feet and leaves the room.

"Again, I apologize. I didn't mean to sound so possessive of you." Raiden says once we're alone. I giggle and lean up against her a little shyly.

"It's alright. But, if I may ask, why did your mind jump to kisses? We haven't yet…" I trail off and her cheeks go pink.

"I… I might have been considering it. I still need to talk it over with Miko, so I'm afraid it won't happen today, but it's still been on my mind." Raiden says and my heart skips a beat, leaving me feeling a little shaky.

"If it makes you feel better, I've been thinking about it too." I say and her next breath is shaky. "Why don't you have one of the brownies?" I ask with a grin. "You should have told me you liked sweets! I'd be bringing them to our dates more often."

Her eyes widen and start to sparkle a little and I giggle. Uh-oh. Have I created a monster in saying that? "You're too sweet." She murmurs, carefully picking up one of the brownies and taking a bite. Her eyes flutter a little as a grin spreads across her face. "This is exquisite. You never told me you could bake."

I laugh softly. "Uhh, I'm pretty sure I did. Back when we met. I think Yae immediately tried to distract you from it though." I say and she hums.

"You're right. Well, I wouldn't mind if you baked more for me in the future."

"I can do that." I say with a grin. "Though, Raiden…"

"Ei. I think we've been dating long enough that you're allowed that privilege by now."

A small smile spreads across my face, "Then, Ei, you'll have to give me a list of your favorite desserts so I know which would be best to bring you."

She laughs softly. "That won't be necessary. Anything sweet is to my tastes. Honestly, I don't know if I have a favorite." She says and I giggle softly.

"Noted."

"So, since this is a date, what do you say to a walk around the gardens after I finish this?" She asks, gesturing with the brownie.

"That sounds perfect." I say and she smiles at me, wrapping her free arm around me and tugging me a little closer.

"Good."

I lean against her while she eats the brownie, looking forward to spending the next few hours with her. It's going to be so fun getting to be alone with her.

#self shipping #self ship #self ship fic #self insert fic #self insert fanfiction #self insert #canon x si #canon x self insert #self insert x canon #an everlasting love 💖🍰#our love shines eternal 💞🌸#my writing

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xmcu-fietro · 1 year

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here to talk about fanfic with you, friend!

what's your favorite thing that you've written for Peter? I know you've written a lot of different standalone ideas and plots, is there one that you like more than the others, or is your "default" when you think about Peter?

Besides Peter, who's your favorite character to write for? Do you prefer writing for heroes or villains? Soft plots/fluff, or drama and angst? Happy endings or sad endings?

How do you feel about the whole "Ralph" situation? How do you feel about Aaron Taylor-Johnson's Quicksilver? If you could cast any other actor to play Quicksilver, who would you want to see?

thank you for this list of questions so that I can do my favorite thing: rambling about quicksilver!

1 - my favorite fic I've written for Peter and posted is probably Vilomah, partly because I just enjoyed writing it and partly because the response was so good. My favorite thing across everything I've written (posted and unposted works) is probably Nobody, which I like because it feels very personal to me. Usually when I think of Peter fics I've written that's the first one I think of.

2 - I think Erik is really interesting to write, although I don't do much from his perspective (I'd like to branch out more though and do more fics from other characters POVs, not just Peter). I'd really like to write more for Matt Murdock, Peter Parker (who I don't think I've posted anything for?), and Charles Xavier. Wanda is fun to write and I'd like to write her more, but because anything involving her usually also involves Peter (since it's usually xmen!Wanda), I tend to gravitate more towards Peter.

I actually don't think I prefer heroes or villains (maybe slight preference towards villains?); I like reading/writing about antiheroes which are kind of a mix, though I don't do it much since so much of what I write is Peter-centric and he's a hero. I've wanted to try writing him as a villain for a while now, I just don't know how to do it in a way that a) is realistic for someone as sacrificial as him to be a villain and b) avoids him winning in half a second because of his superspeed. I do have an idea started for villain!Charles though, so maybe I can get Peter involved somehow....

I love fluff/lighthearted stuff, but I almost always end up writing angst. Not sure what that says about me and my mental health, but I do love putting characters in less-than-ideal scenarios xD I think in general I prefer happy (or even bittersweet) over a sad ending. It kind of just depends on what fits the story best.

3 - Oh, Ralph. Light of my life, bane of my existence, the worst plot twist that has given me the best fanfic fuel. I (still) do not understand the rationale behind Ralph--like, it was so easy to just have him be Peter. If he isn't Peter, it seems like really sloppy writing in an otherwise very well-written show. If he is Peter, why has it been two years of radio silence? Why make fans wait this long for that payoff when it would have made more sense and been more impactful to have the reveal happen two years ago? Sigh. I will never understand.

ATJ's Quicksilver isn't my favorite of the two, but his death made zero sense (especially after seeing a different version of Quicksilver move bullets in the air) and he was really done wrong by the writers (or whoever decided to kill him off). I wish Pietro hadn't died, especially in light of the whole the-xmen-movies-aren't-being-made-anymore-and-we'll-probably-never-see-peter-get-closure-with-erik thing. It's such a bummer that we once had two Quicksilvers and now have none. Like, please let the Quicksilver fandom have some crumbs of content.

If I could cast any other actor? hmm. For some reason Logan Lerman is coming to mind, but that may just be because he played Percy Jackson, and Percy and Peter are really similar (heroes with superpowers, both have daddy issues and questionable self-esteem, both adhd). I feel like Andrew Garfield ten years ago might have worked too if he wasn't already Spider-man. So as far as casting anyone other than Evan goes, I'm really not sure.

#peter maximoff #quicksilver #xmen #fietro's ask box #fietro’s writing

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missingn000 · 2 years

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ooohh honestly i’d love to hear about anything you wanna talk about!! but hmm maybe like.. favorite scenes with yuuta and maki that you’ve written in the published chapters. also anything about themes.. hmm ways they compliment one another and stuff? anything really :)

hi!! first off sorry this took so long to answer @__@ as for my favorite scene with maki and yuuta, it'd have to be their first meeting -- that's actually in my top three personal favorite scenes (along with getou vs rika in 21 and nanami and gojo's talk in 13 where nanami realizes tsumiki and megumi are/were toji's kids)

maki and yuuta complement each other in many ways, but for this post i focused on their parallel dynamics with their respective fathers!

both maki and yuuta's opinions towards their fathers are heavily colored by their first interactions with them, and the fact that toji and getou were the first people to see maki and yuuta for who they truly are. toji was the first person to ever see value in maki, while yuuta's relationship with his birth family had rapidly deteriorated after rika's death to the point where he ran away to avoid burdening them, even if it meant his death -- he had no misconceptions about his inability to support himself on his own.

because of this, they both have a tendency to look past toji and getou's respective flaws. i think this is pretty clear in yuuta's case, so i won't go too much into it, while instances where maki does this have been subtle but significant. there was one in chapter 31 i'll discuss soon, but this passage from 26 is particularly illustrative:

A sharp inhale scrapes against the bad connection like a saw through driftwood. “If you’re so determined for me to understand your feelings, why won’t you try to understand mine?” Yuuta insists, and damn, he might actually have a point. “What would you do if you found out your Papa took so many lives, too?”

His question slams into Maki like a toppled skyscraper. “He would never!”

“I’m not asking if he would!” Yuuta shouts. “Just what you’d feel if it were true.”

Maki curls into her knees, gaze drifting to the empty space where the little grass doll she made of Toji once lived. ‘It’s because you’re my hero,’ she’d said, when she gave it to him years ago on Christmas, after describing how she and Yuuji played superhero games with their homemade toys. There’s...no way Toji would do something like that. This is just a thought experiment, right?

If Toji doesn’t remember anything from his past, Maki wonders, why is he so convinced he was a bad person?

Maki feels like a hypocrite, unsure whether or not she wants to know.

“I’d want to understand... why,” Maki answers. “I-If there was a good reason. If they...deserved...”

“See?” Yuuta murmurs. Chilly northern winds meet warm drafts from the south. “You do understand.”

i think it's pretty clear maki has a fairly strong inclination that there is something dark in toji's past. yet despite this, she instantly tries to tell herself it's not true -- that this is just a thought experiment, and even if it isn't, toji must have had a good reason for doing whatever nebulous dark thing he did, right?

obviously, yuuta calls her out on it. it's a similarity between them she deliberately would not have seen unless yuuta specifically spoke it aloud and forced her to confront their shared flaw. in fact, despite having this glaring commonality pointed out, she still refers to herself as "yuuta's opposite" in her head later on in the phone call.

however, she's a bit closer to accepting her conscious decision to ignore whatever lurks in tojis's backstory by 31. when toji asks her why she agreed to train with him despite clearly finding him suspicious and untrustworthy at first, she replies:

“For the first time, someone said I had potential,” she murmurs. “Someone actually wanted to spend time with me. Someone thought I was worth something.” She pulls the blanket to her shoulders. “Honestly...I didn’t even care why you were there. You believed in me. That was enough.”

it's easy to forget sometimes with how quickly trauma has matured them in some ways, but maki and yuuta are kids. as such, they are inherently going to exhibit bias towards people who show them love and treat them with kindness, especially when it's in such a stark contrast to their lives before toji and getou. i'll conclude with this line in 27 from yuuta's pov that i think sums up his sentiments, and a bit for maki as well:

It’s not that Yuuta doesn’t mind, or doesn’t care.

It just doesn’t make a difference.

their relationships with their respective parents as well as each other (and toji and getou's relationship, too) will continue to evolve throughout the story as they all grow, lessons are learned, and truths are accepted/revealed. i'm really excited to write more scenes between them, as their dynamic is one of my favorites in the fic!! thanks for asking this question and i hope you enjoy reading the reply :D

#maki and yuuta...[stares out window]#tpg

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familyfriendlyweed · 3 years

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late night snaps (quackity x reader)

a/n : before we get into the story, i wanted to thank you all for such support on my first post - i only posted it yesterday, and got a hell lot of likes and reblogs and even gained 23 followers, which is insane for me (or maybe i just don’t know how tumblr works, haha)! anyhow, i’m really happy you guys enjoyed it <3

it was 02:37 and you were editing your newest video. you had no idea it would take so long, though! even if you were used to staying up very late, you knew you have to put away your laptop and go get some sleep.

saving the video as a draft and shutting your computer off, you started to blindly search for your phone, since your eyes didn’t get used to the darkness yet. finally finding it, you turned it on to set an alarm for the next morning when you suddenly saw a snapchat notification from ten minutes ago. it was from Alex. you curiously unlocked your phone and tapped the little notification to be led straight to snapchat.

idiota : hello mamacita

your face instantly lit up in a childish smile. you started to type your response eagerly like it wasn’t 2 am and you didn’t have online classes tomorrow.

you : why hello there, el señor

you saw Alex’s silly bitmoji pop up as he started to type.

idiota : what is my chica bella doing up so late?

you giggled, getting comfortable in your bed - this meant a long chatting session on its way.

you : YOUR chica bella? when did that happen?

idiota : ANSWER THE QUESTION!!!! >:((((

you : fine you big baby, i was finishing editing a new video

idiota : hmm i see, i see

you : what about you though? u should get some sleep!!! :(((

Alex’s bitmoji started typing, then stopped for some reason. you lifted your eyebrow at that. then he continued, but it took a while for him to finish.

idiota : why, i just couldn’t fall asleep when you were on my mind all the time, mi amor

your cheeks grew red in an instant. you knew you could handle jokes pretty well, but this was quite too much. Alex never got so far as to actually flirt with you.

you : eh??? what drugs are u on

idiota : the only drug for me is you mamacita

you snorted. you had no idea if he was being serious or not, even if the second option was more likely.

you : literally go to sleep wtf

idiota : i’d sleep better if you were by my side ;)

this was enough for you - you felt as if you got one more message like this from him, you’d die from the hotness in your cheeks. setting your phone down, you made your way to the bathroom before bed.

you came back five minutes later, only to see your phone full of notifications from Alex. your heart was thumping really hard, you weren’t used to this, but you opened snapchat anyway.

idiota : mamacita?

idiota : ....

idiota : mamacita, don’t joke w me like that

idiota : did you really just leave me on read wtf

idiota : i’m sad come back :(((

and at last, there was a snap from him. you were quite scared at this point. with a shaking hand, you opened it.

you laughed so hard that you seriously thought you’ll have a seizure. still laughing, you snapped a selfie with a cute filter on (you really thought you looked horrible at the moment), captioned it with “your chica bella had to take a piss u simp” and sent it to Alex.

he opened the snap almost imediatelly and started typing afterwards :

idiota : mamacita!!!! you look hermosa!!!!

you : that’s because i have a filter on lmaoo

idiota : mamacita don’t let yourself down, you are so beautiful :((

you started to text a sarcastic reply, but stopped. for some reason, Alex seemed like he was being truthful. he wasn’t joking around when he called you beautiful, that was too affectionate.

you : ...really?

idiota : si, si! <3

you tugged at your lip in a thinking manner. true, you had feelings for Alex, but you never thought he had something similar to you. or maybe... maybe he was just supporting you as a friend. figuring that was probably it, you texted :

you : thank you quacker B]] ur also v handsome

idiota : mamacita likes me!!!!!😍😍😍

you smiled sadly. Alex was definitely playing around. you got lost in thought for a few moments, thinking about how would he act if he was actually in love with someone. would he, perhaps, be more mature? that would be very weird to look at.

finally coming back to planet Earth, you looked at your phone only to see that Alex has written a shit ton of messages again :

idiota : i want to see you, mamacita

idiota : it’s fine if u don’t want to, you’re probably going to sleep anyway...

idiota : but maybe let’s meet tomorrow?

idiota : mamacita?

idiota : ....

idiota : i’m coming over <3

your heart gave a leap of embarassment and surprise. why would he even say that?

you : wait what

you : wdym “i’m coming over”

you : no tf ur not

you : go to sleep

idiota : doesn’t mamacita want to see muah???

you : no, that would be awesome, but you should go to sleep, really :(

idiota : y/n, i already told you, i can’t sleep when you’re on my mind

you froze in spot, staring at your screen for what felt like an eternity. did he just call you by your name? you knew he only says it in serious situations. deciding to change your tactic, you started texting seriously :

you : are you like... for real now?

you : because i know you call me by my name in serious situations, but maybe it’s only a prank, so just answer me truthfully, okay?

Alex started typing, it took even longer that before, but at last you saw his message, this time without caps, spammed question/exclamation marks, nothing silly at all :

idiota : i am serious, y/n. believe me, this is not a prank. i just really wanna see you.

your heart skipped a beat or two, your face renewed its redness. you felt as if you were dreaming.

you : okay... i’m really glad. come over, please

idiota : thank you so much

you started pondering in your head - how did this happen? how did this silly conversation turn out like this?

but what if Alex texted you because he wanted to come over in the first place? after all, he knew how shitty your sleep schedule was. that would be awesome, you thought, a small smile dancing on your lips.

you checked the snap map only to see Alex about 100 meters from you. wait... what? 100 METERS??? was Alex near your place the moment he texted you for the first time?

you jumped up, starting to tidy up your messy room up, only to remember you look like poop at the moment - hair messy, face tired, clothes scrunched.

exhaling heavily, you tried to change your appearance quickly - you ran into the bathroom, brushing your hair panickily. then you wrenched the makeup bag open and started to rummage through it trying to find some mascara or something...

ding ding!

you froze, your eyes widened. he was already here, what the hell?!

you quickly put on some mascara, ran into the hallway while brushing your face with your hands from stress (completely forgetting you have mascara on, somehow) and unlocked the door.

Alex’s figure was dark, since the lightbulb in the corridor wasn’t working, and it almost gave you a fright. but as soon as he engulfed you in a warm hug, the tension in the pit of your stomach vanished. you hugged him back almost unsurely, but smiling.

“hello, mamacita”

you giggled. for some reason, you got the strongest urge to cry. probably from happiness, but it still was confusing to you. nevertheless, tears started running down your cheeks, mixing with mascara, probably making you look like you were going to a halloween dress up party.

“hey, why are you crying?” Alex asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“i look horrible.” you laughed, wiping your tears away.

“nooo, why won’t you listen to me? i already told you you’re beautiful.” he said with a cute pout.

“alright, alright, i’m very beautiful, let me down now.” you said, noticing that he was still holding you in his arms tightly.

“whatever the chica bella says.”

he put you down.

“aren’t you going to turn on some light? i feel like i’ve gone blind!” Alex exclaimed jokingly and you giggled.

“i’m like a bat, i hate much light, sorry. buuuut i could turn on this little lamp.” you said, making your way to your desk and turning on a cute little lamp the shade of warm pink.

“perfect.” Alex said, eyeing you in light now. you thought he’ll make a comment about your awful mascara-stained face, but he said nothing, just smiling and looking at you in awe, like you were some princess in a ball dress instead of a tired college student in messy shorts, an oversized t-shirt and two different socks, because you couldn’t find a pair of the same ones.

“perfect.” he repeated, shrugging with a smile on his face, like seeing you was everything he needed.

you laughed and hugged him, muttering a “thanks for coming”. Alex didn’t hesitate and also hugged you, holding you as close as possible, as if he let go of you, he’d drown and would never come back to be by your side again.

little did you know, he felt the exact same way.

#quackity #quackity x reader #quackity imagines #quackity imagine #dream smp imagines #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt imagines

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cryoexorcist · 2 years

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okay y’all, this is probably me being biased because the relationship between xiao and chongyun is so incredibly important to me, because of how much chongyun looks up to and idolizes xiao but.

i had an epiphany tonight, and i’m inclined to believe that part of chongyun’s drive is not only just to vanquish all evil & overcome their yang energy, but in part also to prove himself to xiao. which is why i also think chongyun’s outfit is inspired by xiao’s.

here’s proof! (under the cut cause long)

so i made a joke some time ago recently about how chongyun’s shoes matched xiao’s. it was a haha funny post at first, but the more i think about it, the color scheme isn’t entirely a coincidence.

i also noticed it with chongyun’s glove:

there’s a diamond shape on his right glove. random design choice, don’t you think? or was it inspired by the diamonds on xiao’s gloves?

maybe not entirely the same, but why would chongyun had a random diamond shape in his clothing, if not inspired by someone they respect, right?

let’s also talk about the leg designs. the pants style is a bit of a cop out because a lot of characters have this similar pant style, but i’m talking about the designs. xiao has gold on his pants, as does chongyun. while the actual designs aren’t the same, the color scheme kinda checks out. i mean blue and purple aren’t the same color, but the dark with the gold highlights? chongyun you’re not fooling anyone.

and the cloth flap? idk what it’s actually called please forgive me. but xiao has this, and so does chongyun.they match, your honor.

but can we also talk about the items they have hanging from their belts? xiao has this, while chongyun has a tassle. why would chongyun hang a tassle in that spot, hmm? it couldn’t be just to wear it, could it?

in short, chongyun might not even be consciously aware he’s mirroring xiao. but that inspiration has to come from somewhere, and who better than the yaksha chongyun still worships and prays to?

after all, they’re both demon slayers and vanquishers of evil, just on different skill levels. perhaps some of their gear matches because of sacred rituals. but chongyun’s clan, and chongyun, have to get the ideas from somewhere.

or someone.

i rest my case.

#/ ᴅɪsᴄɪᴘʟɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴǫᴜᴇʀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ / headcanon

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willowbleedsonpaper · 3 years

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Winter In The Shade V

Part V

Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader

W.C. : 2913

Requested by @amourtentiaa : It is Sirius’ fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter’s. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?

Warnings: None (?)

Want to know when I post the next part? Add yourself to my taglist!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Anything I need to know for the party?” you asked Regulus as you two entered the charms classroom, both sitting in your usual spot while waiting for the rest of the students and the professor to arrive “You know, colors?” you said, raising an eyebrow “Do you want to get matching outfits? Should I be ready to leave at midnight before our carriage turns back into a pumpkin?”

“Pumpkin?” he asked, confused.

“Nevermind.” you waved a dismissive hand in his way, remembering he didn’t even know what a T.V. was. “What I mean is, this party's going to be the last time we see each other for weeks! We need to make it special so I can go back to the memories when the bitter reality hits me and you're not there.” you finished, letting out a dramatic sigh as you placed the back of your hand over your forehead.

Regulus looked at you with concern “Are you being dramatic or serious? I can’t tell.” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes, letting your performance fall as you flew a piece of hair out of your face “You’re not fun.” you grunted “And just so you know, I am being serious.”

“It’s only two weeks, Y/N.” he reminded you “You’ll survive.” He was met with silence, turning to look at you and the angry pout of your lips. He let out a long sigh “You have lived most of your life without me, what’s two weeks?” he asked.

You scoffed, letting your jaw fall as you crossed your arms “I don’t know, you cold hearted man. Maybe two weeks of boredom?” you said, watching as his eyes turned into one of disbelief “Torture.” you added “What am I supposed to do with two weeks by myself?” you asked him.

“What did you do before we became friends?”

Your brain froze at his question, both mind and eyes blank as you stared into the void. Regulus calling your name brought you back and your face turned sour as your eyes focused back on the raven haired boy before you “You are no good influence.” you mumbled sourly.

“Pardon?” he asked, his eyebrows scrunched together as he placed his book down, his attention completely on you.

“Since that day you hit me in the head my entire life revolves around you!” you whispered yelled, watching his shoulders relax as he tilted his head “And don’t try to deny it, we both know it's true.” you said, starting to pick up your things and shoving them inside your bag.

“What are you doing?” he asked, never trying to stop you and instead handing you the things you had placed on his side of the table.

“I, “ you said, placing a hand in your chest as you stood from your chair, looking down at him “am taking space from you. You have consumed my entire life.” you hissed, the urges to laugh coming through as a small smile broke through you every now and then.

Regulus watched you walk a few feet from where he sat, patiently staring at the back of your head with a small smirk “Y/N.” he called, his voice steady and calm “We have class, remember?”

You stopped, sharply turning to face him again from the front of the classroom. You purse your lips, glancing between the door and Regulus. You gave up in the end, letting your shoulders fall and dragging your bag all over the floor until you reached your chair again, falling into it.

Regulus bent down from his chair to pick up your bag from the ground, placing it on the table as he turned to look at you with a small smile “If it makes you feel better,” he said, breaking the silence that had fallen in the classroom “You have consumed my entire life as well.”

Your face broke from the bothered look you had put on, swinging your head so you would be looking at Regulus “It does,” you smiled “We’re attached to the hip.” you said, moving your chair so you would be next to him.

“That’s why we are spending the winter break separate.” he told you, his arm resting around your shoulder “So we don’t get bored and before we end up killing one another.”

You chuckled lightly “The thought had crossed my mind.” you admitted, resting your head on his shoulder “That doesn’t mean it won't be difficult to be away from you. You’re my best friend.”

A silence fell all over the room and took you into it, pondering over the fact that a couple of months before you didn’t even acknowledge the existence of the other. You thought fate was funny in that way, friends you made on the first days after starting your life at Hogwarts were now strangers that glared at you from the opposite side of the Great Hall at dinner, people you knew your entire life now strangers you barely knew how to start a conversation with, even greeting them represented a challenge; friends you thought would be there for the rest of your life were now gone.

You had met Regulus months ago and you couldn’t imagine your life without him, and that scared you. The feeling of not being friends with him, of not knowing if you would ever see him again broke your heart and filled you with dread. Sure, you were spending two weeks apart but you knew you would see him once the holidays were over. The thought of losing someone had never made your stomach twist and your heart race quick the way it did when you thought about losing Regulus.

“I think that’s the beauty of us.” he said, capturing your attention immediately “Time is not the core of our friendship, it’s something else.”

You smiled, relaxing against his side as you hummed “Like what?” you asked.

“I don’t know.” he answered honestly “But I will like to find out.”

“Hmm, me too.” you sighed, another peaceful silence taking over the room “Promise me you’ll write.” you said out of the blue, his chuckle vibrating all over his body and through yours.

“You’ve made me promise I’ll write a thousand times now.”

“I don’t mean just these two weeks. Anytime you need something, that we’re away from each other, or if you just saw someone falling and it reminded you of me just… just promise me you’ll write.”

With his heart skipping a beat, Regulus couldn’t believe the words that had just left your mouth, his gaze falling at the top of your head. Never would have he thought you would be scared of him leaving, that you would be scared of losing him as he is of losing you. In his eyes you were so confident, so sure of what you do every single time, you had lost all our friends and because of what. Because of you, he reminded himself.

“I promise.”

Your mouth was left with a bittersweet taste after charms class. It wasn’t every day that you and Regulus got that deep in your conversations. Usually, the matters you talked about were more sarcastic and almost on the humorous side of the aspects of your life; school work and competitions was common as you spent at least an hour of your day glued to the chairs from the library. Deep emotional conversation was just unknown. You knew Regulus didn’t like it, and yet he seemed to be the most comfortable out of the two of you. He might be your best friend but Rowena Ravenclaw knows, you’ll never fully understand him. You’ve made peace with that.

It was the older Black brother you had trouble with.

Charm class was the last one for the day, Regulus having an extra class he worked on late at night that left you with hours for you to exist by yourself. Something you silently thanked as you walked outside the Great Hall after dinner.

Standing on your toes, you moved your gaze over the sea of heads that flowed from the Great Hall, all the chat and laughter making you snap your head in every direction that sounded slightly similar to the one you searched for. The green and yellow of the robes stood out the most, your eyebrows scrunched together as you lowered yourself to your usual height. You started to move, following the students as you held tightly onto your bag. “Where are all the Gryffindors?” you asked inside your head. And that’s when you saw it, the flaring red from Gryffindor robes as they all ran and cheered down the hills. The Quidditch pitch.

*******

Sirius and James had led the Quidditch team to the pitch, their loud cheers and whistles enough to draw the attention of the entire team and drag them down to an unplanned practice. Although they referred to it as a small game to celebrate Friday night, Sirius knew James wanted them to practice.

They were all in the air as soon as they crossed the lines drawn on the grass to mark the limits of the pitch, bags and school work scattered in the ground without a care. Peter and Remus sat on the grass, chatting calmly as they watched their friends play.

“Hey, Remus.” Peter asked, getting a hum from Remus as he never broke his gaze from the Quaffle, “Do you think Sirius likes Y/N?” he asked with the shake of his head.

Remus let out a laugh, head thrown back in the air as he got a few looks from the players “Was it ever a question?” he asked back, turning to Peter.

Peter laughed, the small chuckle dying down as he stared at one single point in the distance “Yeah, that wasn’t really my question.” he said, their hair flying to their faces as the two seekers rushed in front of them after the snitch. They blinked back, following the game without actually paying attention. “Do you think Y/N likes Sirius?”

Remus’ attention broke from the Quaffle, his look thoughtful as he considered it. What were the chances Y/N liked Sirius? Not many, he thought to himself. “I don’t know.” he answered “If I had to guess I’d say no.”

Peter smiled, his eyes scanning the air as he smirked in James’ direction, the act capturing the Captains’ attention as he followed Peter’s gaze “I think she does.” Peter said confidently, “I actually think she was in the crowd tonight.”

“Right.” Remus scoffed.

“Want to bet?” Peter asked, an eyebrow raised in his direction as he extended his hand towards him.

Remus nodded, clasping his hand in Peter’s as he shook it.

The match lasted a good two hours. Both sides of the Gryffindor team started the game as a playful practice that now had them at each other's throats like the red in their robes had turned green at some point during the game. James yells and instructions could be heard over the commotion of the crowd and the team, the tension palpable in the air as the players flew in the air at top speed. They were flashes of red in the eyes of the crowd. In the end, James’ side of the team won. The entire team flying down from their brooms with grins plastered in their faces.

Peter had jumped to his feet as he saw Sirius lowered himself until he walked on the grass, the smirk permanent on his lips as he walked to greet his friends. “Great game.” Peter said, giving a subtle nod in James’ direction as the smirk he had was mirrored in James’ face. Peter patted Sirius in the back as he was in proximity, his hand holding his shoulder as he leaned on his side “Pulling you best moves for the ladies, huh?” he asked.

Sirius laughed, nodding his head when James walked next to them, nudging Peter’s side knowingly.

“Or should we say Lady?” James asked, wiggling his eyebrows in his direction.

Sirius' face fell, his lips in a line as he recognized the glint in his friends eyes. They didn’t.

“Sirius.” he heard you say, his confused look erased in the blink of an eye as he put on his best smile, turning on his place.

“Hello, darling.” he said, his tone flirtatious.

You smiled briefly, your eyes wandering over all his friends standing too close behind him with expectant eyes. “Hi.” you said to them, all three immediately a mumbling mess as they turned and pretended to fall into deep conversation. You almost wanted to laugh, but you focused on the task at hand “Can I talk to you?” you asked, looking straight into his eyes.

His smile fell momentarily, nodding his head as he made a sign to his friends, who only smiled tightly.

“You little shit.” He heard Remus hiss, making Sirius turn to see James holding Remus back, a smug looking Peter running as fast as he could once Remus got free.

He shook his head with a laugh before he focused on you, following you to a more quiet place, the buzz from the people left behind as you turned to face him “Are you alright?” he asked as soon as you stopped walking.

You let out a breathy laugh “I’m okay.” you assured him, your eyes remaining on him for a second before you recovered your voice, “I wanted to talk about this.” you turned to your side, rummaging through your bag until your fingers felt the soft material of the box, pulling it out and holding it for him to see “You can’t do this.”

He had a confused look on his face, the smirk he usually wore coming back as quickly as it fell “You’re giving me back a rose?” he asked.

You blushed, suddenly feeling stupid for wanting to give it back “No… I mean, yes!” you mumbled, cheeks darker by the second “It’s not the rose, it’s the act.”

“You want me to take back...my actions?”

“I need you to stop.”

He nodded in thought, leaning against one of the wooden posts. He held himself back from teasing you and the red in your cheeks, or the fact that you said need. The only thought in his mind was that you didn’t actually want him to stop.

“So that means you won’t be going to the party with me?” he asked, a fake pout in his lips.

“I have a date.” you said, crossing your arms over our chest.

“You do?” he asked, his back straight as he mirrored your stance.

You ignored his reaction, taking a confident step towards him. You reached for his hand, holding his palm out to you as you placed the box there. “Please, just stop.” you whispered, the volume of your voice enough for him to listen as you stood so close to one another.

He closed his hand over the box, his free hand taking a hold of your wrist as he held it back to his chest, the movement making you stand closer to him “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his eyes looking directly at yours before his gaze roamed all over your face expectantly.

Your heart started to beat hard inside your chest, your feet rooted to the floor as you stood frozen under his eyes. He tilted his head, his thumb moving over the skin in your arm “Do you?” he repeated.

His skin felt warm against yours, the feeling sending electricity all over your arm before it woke you. You shook your hand out of his grasp, taking a step back with wide eyes “That is what I’m asking you. Yes.” you said shakily, holding your arm against your chest.

He tried to suppress his smile, he really tried but in the end he broke in a grin. “I’ll stop.” he stated, looking down to his palm before he connected your eyes once more “I only ask for one thing.”

He didn’t expect you to stay and listen, your jaw clenched as your look turned into a glare “What is it?” you asked harshly.

“Save me one dance.” he said, his voice soft and rid of any teasing or amusement.

“Right.” you scoffed, turning your face to the sky in disbelief. But you were met with silence, making your arms fall at your sides with a questioning look “You’re serious.” you asked, watching the glint in his eyes light up as he smiled. He opened his mouth to talk but you cut him off, lifting one finger right in front of his face “I swear to Godric Gryffindor if you make a joke you’ll be dancing by yourself.” you said harshly.

He bit the insides of his cheeks, letting himself feel the flutter of his heart at the simple gesture of you stopping his joke, like you knew him already. “Do you accept my offer, then?” he asked, offering his hand.

Your eyes lowered to his hand doubtfully “Do you promise you’ll stop?”

He nodded his head softly and you sighed, taking his hand.

What you didn’t expect was the squeak that left your lips as he took hold of your hand, holding it to his lips as he placed a short kiss over your knuckles.

“I’ll see you then, Y/n.” he told you, turning on his place as he went back to the pitch.

“See you.” you mumbled to yourself, staring at him and cursing him for the hurricane of thoughts left in his place. That didn’t go as planned.

TAGS

Skittles

@iwritesiriusly / @trinimalfoyyy / @megaprincesscakes / @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend / @amourtentiaa / @zaidlyn

Marauders

@destourtereaux

Winter in the Shade

@plethoraofpuppies / @dracoissohot / @funravenclaw2002 / @nehireerdogan / @ktyflwr / @lilyevanswhore / @edithsvoice / @medalloway-blog / @falconxbarnes / @blackst0nes7077 / @gabitanaka47 / @padsfirewhisky / @lazzwhile / @lilylikethefl0wer /

If you're name is crossed it means I coudn't tag you :(

#winter in the shade #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x ravenclaw!reader #regulus black #marauders #the marauders #marauders era fanfiction #sirius black fanfiction

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whenwordsmakesense · 3 years

Note

Another first sentence + 5 sentence fic, "I hate it when you're being a martyr!!?"

Lol, next time just send me a sentence. I don't think I'll ever be doing "only" +5 sentences xD

Okay, okay, so this isn't from my *THE* time-travel fic, but the thing is... I just love the idea of a bamf!sterek that go back in time and don't tell anyone about the truth and then comes this CONFRONTATION and everyone else is confused/in awe.

Quick rundown of dynamics, just because: Alpha Talia Hale. Human/Alpha Mate Nathaniel Hale. Betas Peter Hale, Laura Hale, Cora Hale, Claudia Stilinski. Human Noah John Stilinski. Alpha Derek Hale (but he presents as a beta to everyone except Stiles). Human Stiles Stilinski (but he is actually a spark, the strongest there is).

Idk their ages, but you can imagine Stiles as a 15/16 year old teen (he's mentally older, of course, think like... hmm... let's say he came back in time at age 21. So he should be 30, mentally). That makes Derek 21/22 (mentally 36).

Okay, enough rambling, now let's get down to the fic!! I'll be writing this from Laura's POV. Also, tell me if I should post this one on AO3? Now it's on AO3!

The Moon's Come Out

"I hate it when you're being a martyr."

Stiles' voice is a soft whisper underneath the chaos of blood and death, but it's not quite enough to drown under. It's a resigned exhale of breath, a truth so absolute that it's no longer just a truth. It's a fact.

Laura Hale wonders when her baby brother aligned himself to such a fact. She wonders lots of things about her baby brother.

She remembers the day when it all changed. When Derek changed. It was subtle, but it was prominent.

She remembers when she'd helped Derek with his flirting skills. Paige, she remembers; the same Paige who had once held Derek's eyes had been rendered into nothing that day. No, not nothing—something else. Something deeper. Something like grief.

But why would Derek grieve someone living? It's a mystery, but more than that it's an act shared between Derek and Stiles—like they're barely tethered to the world, and every moment with anyone but each other is like a gift and a curse, all in one.

But this isn't the time to think about it, how it feels like she's lost Derek once.

It's time to save him.

"Mom," her voice is a barely there sound, but her mom, her Alpha, she's here.

And she's silently crying.

"Mom, we need to- need to help him,"

Her mom is nodding her head, and they're moving between the bloody bodies—hunters, who'd come to kill them, only to die by Stiles'... everything.

Laura feels she can save him.

"Stop." Stiles' voice is still a whisper, but it's an order. A command.

Her mom—Alpha Talia Hale—stops in her tracks, and Laura, with her injured leg has to stop with her.

Dad is shouting at Cora to stay back, and John is trying to free Claudia and Peter from their confines, and Laura can hear all that. But right now, her world boils to where Derek is. On the ground, only a few feet away but so, so far away, spitting blood out of his mouth as his healing tries to kick in where the bullets are lodged on his body.

Bullets. Because Derek had jumped in front of the hunters when they started shooting at Peter and Claudia. And they're all wolfsbane laced.

Laura opens her mouth to protest, to shout, but Stiles doesn't let her.

He's always stopped her from talking.

She hates Stiles.

He's taken Derek away from her. From the pack.

"I can deal with this, you don't have to worry,"

"You can't order me around." Laura's eyes flash at her Alpha's tone, and she bares her neck.

Stiles' jaw sets with a determined look. "Oh, yeah? You really think so, Talia?" Laura watches him as he speaks, words fast paced and laced with worry and fear and anger. It's an ensemble of emotions, but even Laura has to admit that there's always been something special about this kid. His hands work as he talks.

"I mean, maybe you do. You Hales always think you know the best, don't you? It's like you think nobody else has any brains but you. Well, except Peter. That fucker is just too clever for his own good and he knows it. But he at least knows not to underestimate others. That's more than I can say for you, Talia. Or Laura. You two are so similar, you know?"

Laura does. She does know. And she is proud of that fact. But Stiles says it like a curse, like being so similar to her own mother—her Alpha—is nothing short of the worst thing.

Laura wonders why. She wonders a lot when it comes to Stiles.

"Stiles," everyone stops at that voice, as if freezing in place would freeze time itself.

Laura has been tortured, she's seen more blood than she needs to today, and she'd cried herself hoarse when they'd started to torture her previously unconscious mom. And then she'd wanted to die when the hunters turned their guns toward Cora, Claudia and Peter. So much so that she'd barely noticed Derek somehow escaping from his own personal confinement, the shackles he was in, all of it covered in wolfsbane. Neither had she witnessed Stiles breaking the literal cage the humans of their pack had been put in. But the thing that truly, truly scares her isn't any of those things. No.

It's losing Derek. Her baby brother (he used to hate it when she called him that, but when he changed, that hate turned into a grieving sort of fondness, like this was something he'd missed), who feels more like an adult than she is, her Derek. She can't lose him. She just can't.

It would break her. It would break the pack. Derek has always been the heart of it, the sweet little kid who is adored by his sisters and trusted by his parents; the man who even Peter respects, and Claudia cherishes like her own son, and John who calls him a good man.

It's no surprise they all just stop when Derek speaks for the first time since he was shot. And oh, was it only minutes ago? It feels like hours.

"Finally coherent, huh?" Stiles asks Derek, like Derek speaking right now is no big deal. Like it's that easy to try and repel the poison of wolfsbane.

"Shut up," Derek coughs out, voice throaty and weak.

"Derek," someone calls out. It's choked with tears, and it's a female, and it's her voice. "Derek! Please don't die,"

Derek tries to move his head, but falls back on the ground with a thump. Stiles swats at him, and Laura only now notices that Stiles' hands are covered in blood, one anchored on Derek's chest while the other digs around one of the holes. There's a host of bullets lying on the other side; Stiles throws another bullet there.

Perhaps everyone notices the same thing just then, because everyone makes a noise, a wail of pain and disgust and fear, all of it mixed in one sound.

Her mom has lost all her fight in herself, and Laura deflates, too. Stiles seems to know what he's doing.

And he doesn't seem to care what he sounds like.

"No, shut up? Me? Shut up? I swear to the fucking moon, you asshole, if you die on me I'll follow you. I'll fucking follow you there, because nothing is left for me here, okay, and I know you know that. You know this. How could you even do this to me? I told you to wait for my signal! I never would have let them get hurt, Derek! No, no, shut up! You keep your words to yourself and you listen, you goddamn martyr, you listen.

You made me a promise. When we came back, you promised me we'd be together. Always. We'll fix things, then we'll live, and then we'll die. Together. But you-you broke that promise, Der. You did tha-that,"

Laura is missing something. They all are.

Stiles' voice is a steady stream, a flow broken only by the cracks in his voice and the anger in it. And then it's a whisper, the height of his voice toppled down by his sorrow.

Derek smiles softly, as if Stiles worrying himself to death about him is not a new thing. Like Derek almost dies on a constant basis, and this is a routine they have—Stiles worries, Stiles shouts, and then Derek smiles because he's still here. He isn't gone yet.

Laura watches as Derek puts his weight on his elbows, brings his face close to Stiles'. Nobody interrupts them, still frozen in time, still processing what they just went through. Stiles shuts his eyes.

"I am here. I am here, Stiles," Derek tells Stiles, and Stiles takes a shaky breath, and it hangs there, that breath—the worry, the anger, the pain, everything—between them, before Derek lunges forward and presses his lips against Stiles'.

There are a few sharp breaths, and a hysterical giggle from Claudia. "I told you," she says, and Laura thinks she's saying it to John.

Laura isn't exactly surprised. She's caught them kissing multiple times, and she's always wanted to tattle on them. And she would have, because this is wrong—Stiles is a teenager and Derek is an adult—but Stiles is clever and somehow always a few steps ahead of her. He knows all of her secrets, and she'd rather he didn't but that's not the life she has. No, the life she has is—

—clearer in hindsight. She thinks back on those kisses, shared in the early mornings or late nights, between whispered words that Laura couldn't make out and with a desperation that went beyond the desperation of wanting a good time.

And she looks now, looks at the way Stiles' breaths are shaky and labored, but his hands are steady, even as he brings flames appear out of nowhere and presses it against Derek's bullet wounds. She looks at the way Derek has his forehead pressed against Stiles', and how he moves his head to Stiles' neck at the precise moments that the fire touches his skin. Like he's done this before, knows how to keep his pain between him and Stiles. She looks at the way Stiles' other hand, still bloody, tangles in Derek's hair, comforts him, like he's the only comfort Derek needs in this world.

She looks at the way Derek's body heals, like even his body is used to being hurt like this.

"It all makes sense," Peter's voice brings her out of her thoughts, and she turns to look at him. He's vibrating with excitement. "The way they talk—the way they behave—it all makes sense!"

Laura doesn't want to know. She doesn't want to know how this much blood and death and crying and confusion could ever make sense.

But if knowing is the answer to ease the burden on Stiles' and Derek's shoulders, she'll take it. She will know.

#derek hale #stiles stilinski #laura hale #the hale pack #teen wolf #my fic #thanks for the prompt!

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lizbotw · 4 years

Note

Could you do an Akaashi Keiji imagine where his girlfriend steals the T-shirt he was wearing after they made out as they got distracted from studying and they playfully argue over the shirt as they both enjoy the view of each other? I’m just soft for Akaashi...

T-Shirt || Akaashi When His S/O Steals His Shirt

same, like honestly who isn’t? i just love him. this ask made me soft, tysm for the request, i loved this ♡ please let me know what you think! also first official scenario/one-shot post :) (even though the others were basically already one-shots on their own but shhh) also, this is gender neutral even though you said girlfriend ♡

warning: suggestive content (making out? but that's about it. also akaashi is hot but we already knew that so here's me describing it)

word count: 3k

Akaashi Keiji

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, excess saliva dragging across the surface. “Ugh, Keiji, get off. You’re crushing me.”

You squirmed, legs kicking out as you tried to use the momentum to roll him off of you. No such luck.

“Mmm, just a little longer...” His breath tickled your neck, hands still dragging down your sides, balling around the fabric of your loose shorts and then releasing it.

You slumped back down, letting your arms fall away from where they had been looped around his neck. Spread starfish on the floor with an immovable force on top you in the form of your boyfriend, you were about to resign yourself to your fate until your eye caught a glimpse of the colorful textbook page still splayed out on his desk. “No. I swear to God if I fail this math test because of you...”

“Yeah? What are you going to do if you fail? Finish the sentence,” came his muffled reply as he buried his face deeper into the crook of your neck. You could feel the vibration of his laugh and shivered at the feeling.

“I won’t come over anymore.”

The vibration increased as he chuckled against your skin and you instinctively brought one hand up to ball into his hair, stretching your neck away from him and in the opposite direction—he knew you were ticklish there.

“Sure you won’t.” You could tell he didn’t believe you and you didn’t blame him—anyone could call that bluff from a mile away.

While you were trying to think of a witty comeback, you felt him shift and suddenly the weight was gone, leaving you feeling empty at the unexpected lack of contact. Blearily blinking up at him, you could make out his face hoovering above yours for a moment as he supported his weight with his arms planted on either side of you before he pushed himself into an upright position with a slight groan, clearly wanting to stay tangled up in your arms a little longer.

Keiji sat back on his heels and studied you, still straddled about your waist, and right as you opened your mouth to stick your tongue out at him in retort to the intense stare, he shifted again and got up (meaning you got absolutely zero satisfaction out of teasing him), carefully stepping over you.

You kept laying on the floor, watching Keiji closely as he rose and stretched, his back to you now and muscles shifting. His shirt had gotten lost somewhere in the scuffle of limbs and lips earlier, so now his entire torso was on display, toned and rippling under his every movement. Your fingers had traced over each of those lines mere seconds ago, yet you found yourself wondering what they felt like now, as if something about them had changed within the short span since you last touched them.

Sure, you had been the one to tell him to get up, ruining the moment with the reminder of the crushing reality that school still existed, but you weren't above redacting your earlier words and calling him back to you just so you could tug on his raven hair with the same cheeky smile you always found yourself sporting in situations like this. You wouldn't even complain about him laying the wrong way on your stomach and crushing all of the air out of you this time either—promise.

Of course, once again, your words died in your throat and you had to change plans when he made for the bedroom door—you had gotten lost tracing the lines of his arms and hadn't noticed when he had stopped stretching his arms above his head—and you sat up with a jolt, your head throbbing a little at the sudden movement.

“Where are you going? You're not getting out of studying that easily, mister."

Keiji paused in the doorway, hands curled around the edges, and he turned to look back at you over his shoulder, eyes half-lidded and gaze piercing—you swore your heart caught on fire (you silently begged for someone to put it out) and you involuntarily gulped, throat suddenly dry. He hummed in acknowledgement of your words, ignoring your stiffening up at the look he was giving you (although you were sure he noticed it, judging by the way his eyes raked over the small signs of your body language before returning to look at your face).

"Yeah? I was under the impression you didn't like studying on an empty stomach but-"

"Oh! Go then! What are you waiting for?" The prospect of snacks had you perking up, although you were still acutely aware of the tingling in your lips where he had bit a little too hard before, the feeling spreading from that one spot to the rest of the area. You ran your tongue over your lips to cool the feeling—it was studying time now, so reminder to self: get your mind out of the gutter. "Bring an extra bag of chips too. I'm tired of sharing with you."

He quirked an eyebrow, pursing his lips in a way that was a mixture of silent disapproval paired with him trying to hide a smile. (The truth was that you were the one who always took his chips and he didn't even need to scold you out loud for you to understand the correction that should be made in your statement—although even if he did say anything, you would have stuck with your claim that he was the real chip culprit between the two of you, no matter how untrue it was.)

Seemingly realizing that he was going to lose the internal battle of trying not to smile, Keiji pressed his lips together even harder and turned his attention away from you and instead to where his hand was curled around the doorway, watching as his fingers ran over the ridges and bumps. "You got it." And then he was actually gone, out of the room and disappearing down the hallway. You could barely hear his footsteps, even if you tried to strain your ears—they were as quiet as he always was. Reserved and to himself, Keiji seemed to decide that his footsteps would be the same way.

Fully alone now, you flopped back onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling and hands clasp together on top of your stomach. You were replaying the events of that evening in your mind, smiling to yourself as you thought of every little gesture he had made for you.

At some point, plans had been made to study together for the upcoming exam week and that's how you had found yourself on his doorstep, shifting the weighty bag full of textbooks from arm to arm as you waited for him to let you in. It had taken but a mere minute for him to unlock the front door and usher you inside, taking the bag from you—you knew he had been waiting for you, plus he was always a sucker for being on time.

You'd been to his room many times before, but you always looked around to see what had changed from last time, even if it was as minuscule as a stack of papers that hadn't been there before resting on his nightstand.

There was a small, low table in his room, similar to a coffee table, and you two always sat on the floor around it—you found it much more comfortable than sitting on the straight-backed wooden chairs (serious and foreboding in their stance) in his kitchen and dining room. There was a certain freedom of movement on the floor (whether it be to shift closer to him, to spread out your array of pens and highlighters next to you, or to dramatically flop down with proclamation of "I give up!" when faced with a particularly difficult worksheet problem) and a certain aspect of casualness that came with it that set you at ease the same way his presence always did.

This evening had been similar, books crowding the area (and not just school books—“Keiji, I know you like to read, but I have no space for my notebook here and if you don't move your stupid novel right now- What? No, it's not relaxing to read during breaks, what do you think we've been doing this whole time?”) and both of you staring intently down at your work. Keiji had been particularly playful this time though (you thought back to his teasing retorts from earlier when you had told him to get off of you—yeah, he was definitely acting a little different this time around) and one thing led to another before you two were collapsed on the floor next to the table, breaths coming fast and both of you missing your shirts (listen, he had started first, okay?).

Now that you thought about your missing garment, you realize the room was a little drafty, a breeze blowing through his open window and curling it's chilling fingers around your torso. You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself and sitting up again. Now where was was your shirt...

Your careful glancing around the room stopped short when you caught sight of the bunched up heap of fabric right next to you. You considered it for a moment before reaching out and plucking it from the floor, shaking it out and holding it up in front of you to confirm was it really was; a familiar shirt unrolled from where your fingers pinched the top of the fabric near the neckline. Keiji’s.

Hmm... well it wasn't like he needed it right now. And that was all the justification you needed before an evil smirk spread across your features, mischievous plan brewing in your mind, and you tugged on Keiji's shirt—finders keepers.

Feeling warmer now, you scooted back over to the table, folding your legs under it and messing around with the strewn around papers you had left out, trying to make sense of the mess. You found what you were looking for and straightened up your books, lining them up in front of you before picking up a pen (you were pretty sure that that was also Keiji's) and trying to get back into the working mindset. You actually had to finish this work at some point (even if along the way to the finish line you took a few unplanned breaks in between with your boyfriend’s tongue down your throat—oops, what?) so you easily fell into the groove of writing, your pen scratching against the paper and the quiet hum of the wind outside keeping you company.

It wasn't long before Keiji appeared in the open doorway, balancing a few packets of snacks in one arm. His small grunt when a pack of cookies almost fell off of the top of the stack and he had to angle his arm to keep it in alerted you of his presence (once again, the muffled footsteps paired with your intense focus on your work did not help) and you looked up. Two bottles of water were gripped in his free hand and you reached out to take them from him once he came close enough, allowing him to use both arms to wrap around the mountain of snacks and then carefully let them spill out onto the table so you could take your pick. He sat down next to you, just as he had before, and started to sort the snacks into piles so they wouldn't contribute more to the mess you two had already made.

You pushed a pack of chips off to the side to make room on the table, a small space revealing itself when you did so and on which you rested the water bottles. "No tea this time?"

He didn't even look at you as he focused on the task at hand. "I know you get tired when you drink tea, so no."

"Hmm, but isn't tea supposed to help when you're studying?"

"This isn't a relaxing studying session. We have a lot to catch up on to make up for that missed hour." Even from the side you could make out the beginnings of a budding smirk on his face at your expense. There he was—your responsible boyfriend. He really was going to go all in on you today it seemed—you thought you had escaped his serious study plans because of how playful he had been earlier, but now that he had blown off some steam, it seemed like he was back to his old disciplined self. You internally groaned at the prospect. Couldn't you just go back to cuddling on the floor, even if it was a little uncomfortable?

"Yeah, and who was the cause of us getting sidetracked?" you shot back, not letting him get away with this.

He paused his movement and glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "...Shut up."

You grabbed a bottle of water and cracked the seal, taking a long sip of the cool liquid to commemorate this small victory over him. "Mhm, that's what I thought."

Keiji finished sorting the snacks into some sort of order moments later and, satisfied with his work, sat back. "Mhm... okay, now that that's done..." He looked around him, twisting in place as he looked behind him, at his sides, and around the table, brow creasing further as he went on. "Where is it?" he muttered, his eyes now glancing further into the room beyond where you two were sitting for whatever it was he was he was missing. "Have you seen my shirt? I could've sworn it was right here...” He shook his head in apology. “Right... sorry, I must have misplaced it, I'll just get another one." He was still racking his brain in bewilderment—trying to figure out where his shirt could have mysteriously disappeared off to—as his eyes continued to rake over the room, but as he moved to get up to walk over to his wardrobe, his gaze zeroed in on what you were wearing. His eyes narrowed in confusion before recognition spread over his features.

You decided to play dumb for now, taking another sip of water to hide your smile. "What are you looking at? Quit staring at me like that."

"(Y/N)..."

You turned to face him fully now. "Take a picture, it'll last longer, Keiji," you taunted, teasing lilt in your tone clearly getting to him as you stuck your tongue out in retort, him bristling at the action (perhaps more so out of a certain type of interest in how the words rolled off of your tongue though, rather than for any other reason).

"If you really wanted to wear it, you know you could have just asked me, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"My shirt, (Y/N). Can I have it back? I'm actually feeling a little cold right now." He ran his hands up and down over his arms in an effort to generate some warmth and you remembered the open bedroom window. Good. That's what he deserves for distracting you from studying in the first place.

You picked back up your pen and twirled it in your fingers as you leaned on the table, elbows resting on the surface, feigning nonchalance. Out of the corner of your eye you watched him, you gaze mostly focused on the pen in your hand as part of your "cool, calm, and collected" act (you wanted to play around with having the upper hand here for a little longer). Wanting to get a better look at him though (you couldn't resist the temptation of drinking in the sight of him), you dramatically looked away from the pen and back to him, as if considering his earlier request for his shirt back.

His hair was still messy from when you had ruffled it before when his teeth had found your neck, and now as he took a sip from his own water bottle, you could see the slight wetness the liquid left behind on his lips when he took the bottle away, not bothering to wipe it away. Your eyes widened at the slight glisten—he knew what he was doing—and you resisted the temptation to immediately look away in embarrassment, instead forcing yourself to don a coy grin and return to taunting him.

"I recall you complaining about it being too hot earlier, Kei, so I'm not sure which one's the truth now." That had been when you two were still pressed together, feeding off of each other’s body heat. And now came the dangerous part—an invitation, the anticipation of the results of the light provocation already stirring up butterflies in your stomach. “If you want it back that badly, why don't you just take it?"

You expected the crashing of lips, him cutting you off and swallowing your words, taking advantage of the fact that your mouth was open—but instead all you got in response was a small tilt of his head and then a knowing smile. Ugh, you should have known it would have turned out this way, you falling just shy of triumph. He never even fell for Kuroo's, the master of provocation’s, taunts, and while Keiji let you get away with a lot because you were you, you were naive to think you ever had the upper hand here.

He brought a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb running over your lips. You wanted to bite out a bark of “Quit teasing me, Keiji,” but also didn’t want to risk him drawing his hand away either.

Your impatience was put to rest soon though when he spoke, voice low. “I guess I really will have to take it back then." And then he leaned in, your own eyes fluttering closed, and the soft movement of his lips against your own had your heart doing summersaults. You know what? Maybe this was better than what you had in mind.

“So much for playing nice," you felt him murmur against your lips when he pulled back slightly to run his tongue over them. You shivered at the sensation and wasted no time obliging him with your lips slightly parted now, dropping your pen somewhere on the floor and moving instead to splay your hands on his back for support. Your fingers ran over the surface as you had so desperately longed to do before as he continued the sweet onslaught against your tongue. His hand still cradled your face, but now the other one took a special interest in gripping your waist and toying with the edge of his shirt there—A.K.A. the object of his attention (although that title gradually seemed to be slipping to you as he got more and more engrossed in your quiet, shuddering breaths against him, you practically melting against his chest).

Just like last time, a single kiss turned into many, each one more desperate than the last, and before you knew it, you were on your back again, Keiji's fingers playing with the bottom of the fabric of your shirt and tentatively running his hand over the skin underneath, gradually creeping higher. (He seemed to be making a conscious effort not to accidentally lean his elbow on your upper arm again this time either—that had hurt.) Well... you guessed the studying could wait for later. A few detours along the way were fine, weren't they?

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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years

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hey Kip! I’m sending asks into different writer’s askboxes, inquiring about cool themes/development facts/stuff the author wants to share about their personal favorite work of their own. What’s yours? :)

Ok so this ask is old and when I first got it I was like “dang I don’t really have a lot to talk about, what should I talk about I could those revalink headcanons the Kip Cut that turned into a working fic uhh hmm maybe I’ll just make something new to talk about real quick” and then I did and now there is a 12+ chapter Revalink fic in my drafts and I’m gonna talk about that now, whoopsie doopsie [click "j" to skip]

aHEM, OK so allow me to break out the primary school white board because yeah, I have a lot of thoughts and the oxford comma has not yet made it’s home into my brain. oh and spoilers for paraphrase. for both all of Chapter one and future events in later chapters, but it’s really nothing you couldn’t surmise from the AO3 tags

so I really wanted to tell the story of Revali and Link learning and struggling to love again after the less-than-fortunate events of Botw, but I wanted a...how you say...fresher, approach on the subject? Like I know we always say that fanfic writers writing the same tropes and stories time and time again is good because we eat that shit up--but at the same time I had asian parenting as was told never to half ass anything ever, no matter what. So now I'm gay and extra and have depression maybe and oh would you look at that @motherhyrule has dropped a beautiful revalink prompt right into my lap

Great so now that we have, that, I shall take you on the step by step process on how to make a :sparkles: story. So step one is to spend at least five to eleven business days for your white board to dismantle your genre and themes and work them around your character arcs. Luckily I have prepared one ahead of time

s*breaks out those laser pointers that uni professors use* So let's start with defining genre. As define because I HATE you, fuck you. I want you to suffer and writhe on the ground, motherfucker. How dare you think that I would give you nothing but pure predictable fluff, fuck you and yours

is the set of expectations that your audience has when consuming a piece of media

And the great thing about fanfiction is that unlike movies or book where the genres are more vague like, "oh it's a noir mystery genre. so there's a crime, maybe a murder, and a detective and a criminal." or "oh it's a teen romance. so there's some white people and a morally questionable six-pack 18 year old love interest that will be painted as desirable for some reason" BUT with fanfiction HALF of the work out the window, because as soon as you see those #revalink #aro sidon #zelpha #revali is an idiot and #found family tags you already know what's up.

Now what's so great about genre and expectation? Well the fun thing about it is that

I will use it to fucking break you.

... ... ...

<3 For example! <3

In Chapter 1: Holes, you already expect there to be revalink, you already expect them to be soulmates with the soulmarks and there's angst and yadayada ya. Revali and Link have to match because thatttss what this is all about, this is about them! This is about cute, little soulmarks and romantic words!

But whoooopsie doopsie [disney channel laugh track plays] they DON'T match anymore! Link's got a different mark! The number one rule of this entire genre has been broken whoooooooooooooooops. *ba dum tiss*

You might notice with a lot of my writing that I do this a lot, this whole..."oop but there's one little thing that's different." TebaSaki sick fic? Ok cool, but what if Teba burns an irreplaceable relic of the Rito champion to fight a wizzrobe first to characterize why his dumbass clicks with Saki. Mipha deciding to persue Link? Ok what if she chases after a dragon to externalize this conflict as she pierces it's flesh for a scale. Link fighting a Lynel? Ok but what if it's actually a sidlink angst fic in disguise and it's also world building on how Link deals with the bloodmoon that erases all of his efforts which is sort of similar to how his existence was erased from Hyrule 100 years ago mwaahahaha! Ok now that I say this outloud I think I just have a pattern of using fight scenes to externalize character growth. I like fight scenes...anyways.

I think another great thing about the realm of fanfiction is that with the tagging system, I can basically use a chekhov's gun sort of deal, without doing any writing. You know I'm gonna use that gun marked "soulmates" but you don't know when I'm gonna shoot it, and you SURE as hell don't know how.

And huzzah! One of the main points of conflict both drives the tension between Revali and Link, solidifies the unique genre and setting of this world, while also creating a new mystery that will carry over for the next few chapters.

Is Revali right in that Link's rebirth makes him destined for someone new now? What will Link do with the information that his soulmark has changed? Why did it change? Did Revali's change as well? How does anything fucking work right now?

And sure, you might be able to tell where things will end with them, but you sure as fuck will not know how because I HATE you. Fuck you. I want you to suffer and writhe on the ground, motherfucker. How dare you think that I would give you nothing but pure predictable fluff. I am not your goddamn fairy godmother, I will do as I fucking please. You will suffer as you fucking deserve, fuck you and your little tiny--

Oh! But you might have noticed on my little planning whiteboard thing that there was a little T-Chart! For Revali and Link! That's because the next important thing besides plot (and in a lot of cases, including this one, it's argued to be even MORE important than plot) is

~CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT~

[to the tune of that history of the world video on youtube]

So yes, it's a little T-Chart outlining their character views in relation to the themes. And the great thing about themes is that they're not something you can necessarily predict in the same way you can with the genre and plot.

But now see, I'm very lazy so I'm just gonna plagiarize @hyrule-kingdom-updates thingy [that you should read btw] because they said my point quite clear enough

Now I don't really need to care about those points about bond and relationships and being understood, because I'm dealing with already established canon characters. I'm not some NERD who dabbles with entire casts of ocs who even cares about ocs not me that's for sure ahaahahaahahahahahaahahahahahAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *cries in my orphaned WTTU fic* AHAHAHA*sobs*DONT FUCKING LOOK AT ME THAT WAY I SWEAR--

/j I love ocs

But the points I do wanna focus on is the idea that characters provide new perspectives on the theme, and that characters growth can be tracked based on their wants, lies, and needs.

So see, themes can be predicted the same as genre/plot because while you can have the same fanfic plots and tropes, theme will always vary!

Sometimes it's a journey of selfworth with Revali! Sometimes it's an exploration of trauma with Link. Sometimes it's about how you deal with the vulnerabilities of love with Mipha. Sometimes there's straight up NOOOO theme, and people just be fucking, and kissing, and baking, and having a good time. And that is totally fine too!

But I'm not a fucking coward.

I'm gonna weave in themes with my plot, because I fucking can.

I'm not a weakling like you.

Do you hear me, 2019 Kip? Do you hear me Demmers? Do you hear me Quill? I'm coming for your ass. You think you're so great, but I'm coming for you. Rest assured that your graves will be as deep as your sculptured pride--

Heeeere is that T-Chart again, plus more!

yyyyyYou might notice that Revali and Link are quite parallel, to paraphrase. Ayoooo, see what I did there? *dabs* I'm a genius. Anywho

They both start off the same way: 100 years ago they were in love and happy. Basically the equivalent of childish naivety. For the first time in their lives, life is whimsical and charming, and they make each other happy. In fact, it's almost a flaw with how they perceive this happiness. But don't worry! It doesn't last long!

You know what happens.

I think the chart is pretty self explanatory. Revali builds walls fast enough to give a republican a wet dream. Meanwhile Link makes every aromantic in the chat groan with his doubled down sentiments in the idea that his chances of being truly happy again are gone.

Now, I can't exactly describe the full on process of the inbetweens, and where Revali and Link are gonna go from here, because...you have to read it for yourself! Heehee...but something I did think was fun was how these character views on the themes are revealed. Because you'll notice that, I never give exposition. Ever.

Ok well, let me rephrase that. I never give exposition scenes. I will never give you a big LOTR fancy wizard scene explaining the ins and outs of a character's question or the world's magic or whatever. I'm a very impatient Kip, and I value efficiency. Nonono, it's all about multi tasking, baby!

Chapter 1: Holes is divided into three parts.

Post 100 Years - Medoh (Establishes Ghost Rev/Bonk Head Link's view)

100 Years Ago - Flight Range (Establishes old Revalink views)

Post 100 years - Mark (Develops Ghost Rev/Bonk Head Link's view in contrast to who they once were)

I think the way that you structure flashbacks is incredible vital, as it's a very quick way to characterize people without having them say stuff like "I used to be like you, until I took an arrow to the knee" or whatever.

And with the main structure of the chapters and the fic as a whole is focus on their characters, that means I can hide whatever other stuff I want in those scenes, becuase you're too busy absorbing the fun character stuff to realizing I'm giving you boring exposition. Like for example:

Post 100 Years - Medoh and Mark

Foreshadowing for the end of the fic

Set up connection to Medoh with Revali

Link has defeated Windblight

Link has been visiting Revali every night for the past few days

Link has already met Kass and presumably Teba

Link doesn't have the Mastersword

Revali's Gale is still an ability that needs master and practice on Link's end

And that's just some of the stuff.

And see, the only reason I can efficiently give all of this information regarding character, and even exposition, is because of the theme. The themes make everything relevant, and everything circles and encompasses one another, so there's absolutely no wasted space. I mean don't even get me started on how it's gonna be to characterize the other characters around this

I don't wanna talk about the other characters too much either because that's spoilers, but you can probably take a gandar based on my notes.

And oh my god this is just on the theme of the faults that come with "soulmates" and "true love" and all that, and how even magical destined relationships still require work and effort, and that no one thing or person solves all your problems. And that's not even TOUCHING the shit on trauma and scars. I didn't think it was even possible for me to talk about botw without touching on that, ha. Ah well, I've been talking for too long.

Revalink has a lot o' writing potential so das pretty cool yeah, I am excite

#revalink #paraphrase revalink #writing

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wisteria-lodge · 3 years

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snake primary (lion model?) + snake secondary (rapid fire bird model)

I am pretty sure I am a snake/snake sorting, with my primary (burned snake) as a rock solid certainty. I am not doing so well on figuring out how models work, and if I have them. It makes me doubt my secondary sometimes. Let me give you a few examples:

Last autumn, I was making a lot of soup from scratch. I started with recipes, but pretty soon I was just throwing things together.

Definitely sounds like an improvisational secondary.

(I'm a Badger secondary, and my baker friends make fun of me, because I treat recipes like spells I follow them so exactly. I only recently learned that the reason you put put in salt in water is to make it boil faster. I'd been doing it, but I might as well have been putting it in there to banish the bad spirits.)

But I always made sure I had some kind of home-made broth to hand, and some kind of soup magic stuff (heavy cream, milk, cream cheese, etc.)

This could be rapid-fire bird (or a rapid-fire bird model.) You feel comfortable improvising, but only because you already know a lot about soup.

I only went back to recipes when I wanted something new or specific. Then I went and posted a kind of improv instruction for soup making (take some meat, any meat, sear it and and pair with some veggies, any veggies, etc.).

So far, I'm agreeing with you. Improvisational secondary, maybe some kind of bird model to give extra structure and support.

I train new colleagues. When I start with a new group, I like to have all the prep-work done so I can concentrate on the social aspects and not get bogged down finding the right worksheets, or shit like that. I plan my first few words, and if there is no better opening, I use them and go from there. I have a general structure of what I want to teach them, what methods to use and in what order. It is adapted from experience, and the more rigid guidelines we are given by our client. I am constantly tweaking it when I'm not training. If I feel my group needs something different, I will abandon the plan, let them guide me on a detour, and bring them back when it feels right. Somehow, it still works out 95% of the time, especially now that I have found my confidence and know it works^^

This sounds exactly like how I teach. And for me, what is going on is the bird model prepwork making me comfortable enough to just vanish into my Courtier Badger. I've only recently been learning that I can... relax on the prep, a little. That sometimes too much prep gets me in my head, and sabotages me a little. Like I can just trust myself in the moment, and things work out just fine.

I have found the shc system a week ago, and I have been obsessed ever since. I got curious because a friend mentioned it. They were really into it, and I like sorting people if the system makes sense. I dug in, got hooked, and finally found words to describe everything I had figured out so painfully about myself in the last few years. Especially my snake primary was such a surprise and relief, let me tell you.

It's a good system. And it's... uniquely able to talk about certain kinds of things.

I am thinking there is at least some sort of bird model here, giving my improv some structure?

Took the words out of my mouth.

I was flirting with rapid fire bird as a secondary, but now I have put it into words, not a chance. I like my (contained) chaos too much^^

So far, I don't have too much to add. It's all very well laid out, and well understood. I do like the dramatic structure that happens when someone writes in convinced their a Lion and I start going into why they're actually a Snake but hey. This is nice. This is mellow.

Let's talk about badger secondary model instead. Just to get the elephant out of the room: I hate hard work, it feels slow, dull, and like there should be a better method somewhere. But I know that sometimes, you just have to do it if you want to build a reputation, or you know you need to rely on the goodwill of your community in the future.

This is so like... Rapid-fire bird processing Badger. Just the grudging respect of SURE badger secondary can be a useful tool I GUESS.

I feel awkward keeping shallow contact with my colleagues, I forget if they have kids, and I have been experimenting with discreetly taking notes on what they value.

This is so Bird.

It's not very successful because I can never remember them when it's necessary, so I nod and figure it out by asking "knowing seeming" questions, anyway.

This is so Snake.

What does resonate with me is the part of "becoming what they need" making myself into the tool I need, making myself seem reliable by being relatable. I mostly start a one-on-one conversation by mirroring the other person's mood.

Courtier Badger and Snake secondary can look very, very similar - especially from the outside. This right here could be a description of either.

It is only recently, and only with people I know well, that I have found the seductive power of railroading them instead. I can now cut short a friends whining by summarising what they're saying in a blunt and charming manner, and make them smile instead. Not always, but now I know it works, I use it more and more often.

... but this could only be Snake. Doing this sort of thing consciously and on purpose is so huge and so key. Courtier Badgers do have to believe it, and so they have a way of vanishing that Snake secondaries don't.

And I think I am exaggerating my "go and figure shc out, and be loud and open about it on tumblr" part, because it's what feels right at the moment, but also because the friend who got me into it is a burned lion secondary. They like me charging in, taking it for myself, and they admire anyone who can be honest and vulnerable in public.

Very Double Snake. Using a specific approach, specifically for your friend. Also you say your primary is burned... but I'm not getting burned primary from you. But you're also not really writing about your primary, so.

I guess I am making myself appealing, not just relatable like before.

What a perfect way of describing the difference between Snake and Badger secondaries.

Huh. Fading badger performance as snake gets confident? With another badger performance for work that I do grudgingly.

Performance is right. Just a shallow thing you wear over the top, that barely seems there anymore. You work like Bird, not a Badger.

Now lion. Well, lion is... difficult and easy at the same time? I have to take charge, be the boss, and make split-second, straightforward right-and-wrong decisions when I am leading my group: Call out anyone who doesn't play by the rules (though I usually don't care much if it is not annoying). Decide on, and hand out, the appropriate punishment for someone being late, again. Deal with brewing conflict in a head-on manner. But that is something I am still learning, and I am not very good at it.

Some of this is primary stuff - WHAT you do "be the boss, hand out punishments" versus HOW you do it. It's sounds to me like you're building a Lion primary model over your Snake primary, which is normal. Snakes with safe people almost always model something else. (And I already know you've got a friend that's a Lion primary... Snakes do like to match their People.)

It's possible that you're also building a Lion secondary model, or that one of your Snake secondary masks looks a little like a typical lion secondary, but my take is that most of this is coming from a primary model.

I tend to let conflicts slide, trusting they will work it out among themselves.

I feel that this speaks to the water-like nature of the Snake secondary, and a desire to always go around the problem.

or at least be professional about it and not bring it into the training. Definitely a lion performance here, and one I get frustrated with fast because I am not very good at it.

I have my lion moments, like I described with my way of being open and vulnerable about shc here on tumblr. But I wouldn't do it if it didn't feel right, or more specifically like something I need to heal and get better. I know I need to be vulnerable to heal, and it's relatively safe here, in the anonymity of my internet persona.

Hmm. Interesting. I'm not getting Lion from you... if this is a healing exercise, maybe you're practicing existing in your Neutral state?

I have to write it all out, and some of it just happen to come out as advice for other people's asks. It would be nice if I get some recognition for it in the community, and I love the fact that my friends reads it and tells me they like it.

My take on that sort of thing is going to be annoyingly Badger, so I apologize in advance. For me it's all about consistency. Lay a foundation and then build, one brick at a time.

Now that I have written it all out, I think it's probably the most snake way of arguing myself out of any secondary model I could come up with^^ I guess I don't have one, or if I do, I am dismantling it because I need things to be simple for a while. I am tempted to post this on my own blog, but I know it will get a bigger audience with you.

Yeah, no Lion secondary here.

and maybe help someone in a similar situation. So I will be patient, and I thank you for inviting us all to use you as a sounding board for our own shc issues. I have to stop going through your likes, I'm ruining my obsessive fangirl/shc vibes tumblr with beautiful rl-things and creative human interactions^^

I do what I can. I hope I help. :)

Thankyou, @sevilemar for the submission.

#sortinghatchats #sortme #double snake #snakepri #snakesec #rapid fire bird #lion primary model

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 3 years

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Hello! I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfy but I was wondering if I could get a bit of advice? From your recent posts, you said you left your home from toxicity and just bad things in general.

I’m in a similar situation, but my dad will be taking me away from my mom. And I just know it’ll be a shit show. And I’m absolutely terrified when we tell her and what the backlash will be afterwards towards my brothers and me and dad in general

How did you do it? How did you take the leap? Do you possibly have any advice on how to deal ?

Hello, friend!! ☀️

Thank you so much for reaching out, it means a lot that you value my advice <3

Hmm, okay from what I can tell of your situation, that is indeed a tricky one, but nothing can’t be overcome!

It’s important to remember, though, I was 19 when I left (now 20), so the way I handled things is going to be a lot different than how a minor can handle things (legally at least, feel free to replicate my insane stunts lmao)

Advice below the cut! (family violence trigger warning, I suppose?)

My entire family was and is extremely volatile, and I don’t speak to any of them anymore except for my older brother, but I’ll be cutting him off in 3 weeks too when I move.

Fortunately, my dad and brother were both kicked out of the house years ago due to violence, which left me with my mother, who’s quite insidious herself (just watch any Conjuring movie and that’ll give a good idea of what it was like living in that house lol)

I get the same feeling watching this scene as when I was around her in that house. Granted she didn’t try to change my gender, but the hatred for my father getting taken out on me is pretty accurate lol, paired with the immediate “motherly love” afterwards (she never hit me though, pleased to say — she wasn’t physically violent, just emotionally, financially, mentally and verbally. She did try to run my dad over once though, so, there’s that too)

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Yikes…yeahh the same eerie feeling for sure, still makes all my hairs stand upright in memory.

(For further context this clip reminds me of my father and this one of my brother)

In the clip about my father, he definitely reminds me of Frank Gallagher, except he despises my mother instead of revering her. He’s a workaholic instead of a drug addict, too. But the mannerisms are the same. I always handled him in the way Fiona does.

Regarding my brother, I think everything about our family hit him the hardest, despite being the oldest. He developed a very violent streak, and has very poor impulse control. I love him dearly but he’s a snake in the grass, and has thrown me under the bus multiple times to get ahead in life. I mostly just pity him, since I know what our life was like growing up. But still, I can’t defend him forever, especially not at the cost of myself. Literally yesterday I woke up to a text from him asking me to come pick him up because he got arrested for starting a fight at a bar and smashing their windows.

When things started getting pretty bad with my mother earlier this year, I started to realise in my heart that there was no way I could go forth in life with her in it. I focused on the future relationships I would have one day when far away from this town — romantic partner, children, friends etc

I sort of realised one day I’d care about them a lot more than I care about my mother, because those future people would care about me. That in turn got me realising that I do deserve love, despite how my mother made me feel, and that I don’t want her to deprive another second of that in my life.

Something very unique that triggered this too was going to go visit an old family psychic, who’s basically just the Gandalf to my Frodo (ily, Chris <3). He very accurately predicted my birth years ago after my mother was told she was infertile — he got the date, year and time right three years in advance, and even knew ahead of time what my personality would be like, which he was spot-on about.

Well, I went and visited him a few months ago because I was lost with my direction, and he ended up pausing and had a sudden feeling, which led to him telling me that he’d just found out I would be having twin boys one day.

Normally I don’t buy into that stuff, but this Gandalf dude…well I knew he was right.

Knowing I’d have sons of my own one day took me from a scared daughter mindset and into a maternal mother bear in an instant, and I knew I didn’t want any children of mine around my mother or the rest of my family, for their safety alone, which made me realise, “Well, if I wouldn’t allow my own children near them, why do I allow myself?”

I started grey-rocking her in the lead-up to me leaving, which of course frustrated her (she’s a malignant narcissist), but it was a necessary step to start emotionally detaching myself from her.

It all bottled over one night after a pretty distressing argument (I had locked myself in my room to avoid it, but she was still at my door carrying on).

My cat, who’s been my best friend for years, was sitting on the floor next to me, and sort of looked up and I swear he spoke with his eyes, saying, “You know we can’t keep doing this, right? You know this abuse has an expiry date?”

I agreed with my cat and knew right then and there that I’d be leaving that night after my mother fell asleep.

Well, when she was finally done (with threats that there’d be more in stock in the morning, mind you) I went to bed early and set my alarm to 3am (was a little inside joke with myself, since that’s biblically the “witching devil hour”)

I started quietly packing my quilt and cat up (I’d already been secretly packing the boot of my car up with all sentimental and important items weeks in advance, except she caught on and took all my baby albums and more to her boyfriend’s house, so I don’t have any baby photos or information on me when I was a baby anymore, like first words, size and just general things I’d have liked to compare to my own kids one day, rip)

Once that was all in my car, I quietly said goodbye to the old family dog and cat (they weren’t mine to take, not that I could’ve anyways, since it was troubling enough taking Buddy, who’s actually my pet and not the family one). That was pretty heartbreaking, as I knew that’d be the last time I’d see them (I grew up with them and was the only one who took care of them — mother neglects kids and pets alike lmao).

Once that was over, I looked around my house with my hand on the front door and was very melancholy, but knew Buddy was right: it had all reached its expiry date.

I left very quietly and drove to McDonalds for a coffee, as I had a long drive ahead (I had organised to be a nanny in this rich family’s house far away in the city — two hours drive). Luckily they were away on their country farm 4 hours away, so I had time to sneak Buddy in.

The nanny thing recently backfired horribly because they discovered Buddy, which led to more AM escapes with my car, but I’m staying with my older brother and his gf for 3 more weeks only. Something I’ve been working towards for months now is moving to a wilderness island to live in my country’s equivalent of Bag End — a beautiful country cottage, amazing job and fantastic study opportunities.

Best feature yet: it’s 60 hours away from my hometown by car, and then you’d have to take a boat for 10 more hours!! They shall never find me hahaha

One of my friends has also told me recently that my mother has started spreading horrible, defamatory rumours about me around town, but I don’t care anymore because I’m almost out.

So, although I can’t offer any practical advice (idk if you’re a minor or not, but regardless it’s great your dad is helping you!) this is the best advice I can offer:

Find a dream and hold onto it, one that doesn’t involve your immediate family. For me it’s moving to that island and enjoying all the fresh air. It’ll push you forwards and remind you of what you’re fighting for when at your lowest.

Remind yourself there will be other people in your life, whether a spouse, friends, children or even a dog! (I’m getting a golden retriever next year 🐾) And then remember that you deserve all of them and the unconditional love they offer you.

Remember that if you don’t want your mother/family screwing those people over by proxy of her/their relationship to you, then there’s no way in hell you alone should put up with it either, as I guarantee those future people only want good things for you ☀️

There is a good life after abuse, I’ve seen it, and I know you can achieve it, too!

Be prepared for tons of backlash and bullshit — it’s inescapable when dealing with people like this, but I recommend educating yourself on narcissistic parents and tactics to deal with them.

Finding a good therapist who deals in PTSD regarding childhood abuse is important, too. I found an amazing one in the town I’m moving to, who had nearly the same upbringing as me!

So while I’m still struggling with a lot of fear (scared my mother will find where I’m working and living one day) and guilt (I feel horrible about leaving the family dog and cat behind, especially when they need veterinary help, only to then go and get myself another puppy) I understand I’ve done the best I can in a very abnormal situation, and that I can only do better from here.

Also, this song has been a saving grace when going all angsty over wanting to leave your current situation:

It’s from my favourite Broadway Musical, “Newsies”, and lemme tell you — discovering this as a 17-year-old when I was just starting to realise the severity of my situation was pure divinity.

Jeremy Jordan, my beloved Broadway Bard <3

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When I finally get my cottage, I’m getting a wooden plaque with the name “Santa Fe” engraved on it, and am hanging it on my front door.

I wish you much luck and love, my little anonymous friend! And please know my inbox is open any time you need anything — vent, advice, a laugh or something else, ANYTHING, it feels good to know my past can maybe help someone else’s present ☀️

Please update me, too! I’m following your story along ardently now! (Also, be sure to take your sentimental items and store them somewhere safe away from your mother — ie baby albums, birth certificates, other paraphernalia/memorabilia etc).

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must hit the road. DESTINY AWAITS!

#ahh yes #Newsies my beloved <3 #and bless my family Gandalf #I’m gonna send him a gift next year from the small country town I’m moving to for his birthday as a thanks #also I’m torn between naming the golden retriever ‘Jaskier/Dandelion’ or ‘Glorfindel/Glorfy’ now #so happy that’ll soon be my only dilemma in life <33

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 3 years

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so I wrote most of this...four days ago, and then somehow didn’t get around to finishing it until just now, which feels super weird because after writing this I started getting worried about future episodes again for a variety of reasons, and of course now we’re at T minus 10 minutes? (honestly if I’m somehow late for my own funeral I’m pretty sure no one will be surprised.) but I still wanted to post this to go over some of what I liked so much about episode 4, even if...I am no longer anywhere near as confident as I was a few days ago about where the show might be going. whatever.

***

I’ve done almost nothing for the past day or so except chew over episode 4 some more, partly trying to figure out why I liked it so much when it was broadly very divisive, and I realized that a lot of what I’ve been feeling from this episode is relief.

the thing is I’ve been paranoid since at least Infinity War about Marvel doing setup that looks like it’ll lead to a big payoff and then nothing (Loki’s death, but also Gamora’s and maybe Vision’s, and the general fact that the “fix” to IW was convoluted, took place much later, and caused as many problems as it solved, and just, Endgame in general), so I don’t really trust Marvel that way anymore. plus Marvel has pretty badly fumbled a lot of different things in the past, especially on various social issues, by introducing unfortunate implications that apparently didn’t occur to them even though they’re obvious to literally everyone else...stuff like Thanos’s “sacrifice” of Gamora, or how the Flag-Smashers were portrayed and Karli was a villain for no real reason, or how it would’ve been so easy to add a couple lines in WandaVision that would fix the whole thing where the Maximoffs weren’t just whitewashed but they also voluntarily worked with Nazis and they whiffed that too.

so, while I’ve been enjoying the show, a lot of that enjoyment has been based on meta I’ve seen and me sort of going “this interpretation is really cool and it makes a lot of sense, but at this point I can’t know if it’s something the showrunners are doing on purpose or if they sorta accidentally implied depth where there wasn’t any and it’s not actually leading anywhere” with things like the TVA being very clearly authoritarian but also supposedly the good guys, Loki being constantly described as an awful person, Loki sometimes being manic or incompetent, etc. etc. etc., along with the similar interpretation of “sure, we fans know all this stuff about how Loki is not an awful person actually, thanks, and the people who arrested him aren’t automatically Good Guys just because they’re in opposition to him but casual viewers--including not-casual-but-not-fannish viewers who should really know better--have not figured any of this out and so the show needs to go out of its way to demonstrate things that are obvious to us” but I wasn’t sure. the second half of episode 1 made me feel pretty good about where the show was headed as far as Loki’s characterization and emotions were concerned, but the more lighthearted aspects of 2 and 3 had me wondering again.

so then what happens in this episode?

the TVA goes fully mask off. the Time-Keepers are in fact fake, the Sacred Timeline by extension is also basically fake, the people who work there are all variants, the ones we know (C-20, B-15, Mobius) show grief and anger over the lives that were stolen from them, Sylvie is arrested as a child who did absolutely nothing wrong (and then put through the same process Loki was in episode 1, which is cool because a lot of it was kinda played for laughs then but showing the same things happening to an innocent child also serves to reframe what happened to Loki as, hmm, not that funny after all maybe!), Renslayer is willing to prune innocent people--friends and coworkers, even--just because they learned too much, all the sinister propaganda WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SINISTER

Loki gets very serious very fast in this episode. he displays a lot of genuine emotion and trauma but he mostly does it in a calculated way that shows just how fast his brain works and how he’s always, always thinking about what other people want/expect from him. (like--even the complaint about too few guards seems to fall into that category, given that he only says it after Mobius insists he must be wanting to make some kind of quip!) his self-image is garbage but through Sylvie he’s starting to maybe work on that. he goes up against multiple armed enemies while completely unarmed and holds his own until he gets a weapon. he pushes back when it matters and doesn’t just accept everything Mobius throws at him. he lies, pretty competently (the fact that Mobius doesn’t believe him is...really not his fault, considering Mobius wouldn’t believe him at first about the truth either, so I’m pretty sure he wasn’t planning to believe anything Loki outright told him), when it actually matters, primarily in what sure seems like an attempt to protect someone he cares about.

and Mobius. says that Loki WAS RIGHT. ABOUT THE TVA. FROM THE BEGINNING!!! I would still love to hear him say explicitly, look, I said a lot of shitty things to you and tossed in some actual physical torture at the end there oops but the vast majority of it was stuff I didn’t really mean and was only saying to get a reaction and/or information and of course it turns out I was wrong about all the TVA stuff, so I want to say for the record that I was wrong about you personally in many different ways and I’m sorry. (which, honestly, would probably be very awkward for both of them because I doubt Loki has much experience receiving genuine apologies.) but I’m mostly okay with it if he doesn’t, because I feel like you were right from the beginning, and by the way you can be whatever you want does a decent job of implying most of that. (...enough for casual viewers to pick up on it? well, I’m not hoping for miracles but sure, probably some of them.)

in other words? all that stuff the casual viewers were missing (not helped by misleading statements from the showrunners), about the TVA so clearly being bad guys, and Loki being a pretty decent person who presents different versions of himself in different situations and also has some shitty coping mechanisms, and the other Loki variant also not being evil just because they were trying to take down the TVA? we were right. that is, in fact, how the showrunners intended all those things to be taken. they didn’t want to come right out with that stuff at first because they wanted to tell a story and have some twists, and the fact that these things were twists for casual viewers is exactly why it was frustrating to a lot of fans, because it felt like obvious things were being misrepresented or overlooked. I still think that’s reasonable, because see above on why Marvel doesn’t necessarily deserve that trust, but at this point I’m a lot more comfortable believing that this specific show more or less knows what it’s doing.

I mean, yeah, there were some cool fan theories that went nowhere, like the whole thing with the broken TemPad, and I agree that was dumb and it’s very annoying that it really was just sloppy writing, but I guess specific things like that just...don’t bother me as much as more systemic, overarching elements like the characterization of Loki and the TVA. and yes, of course I’ll always be annoyed that we’re apparently never going to get explicit confirmation that Loki’s alliance with Thanos was coerced at best. but, you know, what we got isn’t nothing.

#loki #loki show #loki spoilers #mobius m. mobius #sylvie #marvel cinematic universe #meta #loki meta #my meta #I should add links but uh...maybe later

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overlyimmersed · 3 years

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Nightmares and Daydreams

A Gravity Falls AU.

Hi @verysorrytobother Stanticore anon, revealing my true identity to share this with you! I wasn’t sure how a post this long would go over as an ask, so I decided to do it this way. I hope this is ok.

I’ve been working on this for a while and I hope it goes over well enough. The artwork took me the most time.

As a car crash victim is slowly dying, her mental self panics in the mindscape. She's offered a deal to save her life. Let the game begin.

(Content warnings: Blood. Descriptions of serious injuries.)

"What..." she whispered to herself, staring at the other in disbelief.

"Yep!" he confirms, in a high-pitched, grating, inappropriately upbeat tone, "Dead as a doornail, kid!- Well technically you still have a few more seconds till you brain totally ceases to function. Better make up your mind while you still have one!"

She's still staring dumbly at him. How can he be this nonchalant about it?! A half second ago she was sitting in the front seat of the family truck, a totally routine trip to the store- she never liked trucks but her dad's a carpenter so they need the hauling space. At least it's a pretty shade of blue- and the next she's here, laying face down in a black void with this prick this- this...All Seeing Eye? He's like the Illuminati symbol, but with arms and legs and a top hat. Caution sign yellow and talking to her- or at her. Bill. Freaking. Cipher. Every time he 'speaks' he flashes with light- no mouth so does it really count as speaking? More like his voice is being projected right into her mind- ... And he's telling her that she freakin died! Can't he see how messed up this is?! Can't he sympathize at all!? Then again, it's Bill. She ought to know better.

She ought to know better. She's seen this show a hundred times, she knows nothing good comes from dealing with Cipher. But she doesn't have time to be careful, she doesn't have the luxury of weighing options.

"Tick-tock, Car Wreck!" The obnoxious voice insists again, forcing her out of her stupor, his outstretched hand now alight with blue fire.

Her face scrunches up in a loud cringe, eyes screwed shut and teeth bared, and she swings her hand till it lands solidly in his. Crazed cackling resounds as the deal is struck, but it falls to simple soundtrack as her senses try to sort out what's going on.

She'd expected the blue fire to burn, or at least feel like something, but it didn't. Instead her entire being is flung into a...whirl? Free fall? Something that makes her stomach jump into her throat, and gives her vertigo.

The sensation stops suddenly, only to be replaced by a cacophony of new perceptions. She isn't sure which strikes her first, the sounds or the smell. Shrieks of agony and terror make up the next track of this bizarre playlist, punctuated by the reek of burnt hair. When her eyes fly open to try and make sense of it all, they have no luck. The sight that meets her is a sky of surreal, swirling, bastardized ribbons of every hue, like being inside a filthy bubble. Floating strewn about the space are pockmarked asteroids, and little else.

"So what'd ya think?" The grating voice rejoins the discord, drawing her shell-shocked gaze. "Home-sweet-home, huh? Well don't worry, you won't be here for very long. A deal's a deal, Car Wreck." With that que, and a snap of his fingers, she's falling again. This time untethered and unaccompanied. It takes her a moment to realize the scream ripping though the void is coming from her own throat. Once it hits her, so does something else, and the world goes black.

She wakes some time later, maybe moments maybe days. She has no way of knowing. She pushes herself onto her hands and knees, groggy and disoriented. It takes her a moment to notice the texture under her hands and focus her vision on it. It's grass. She sits up and looks around. "oh..." she says to herself, taking in the scenery. It's lovely, a grassy, sun soaked field. The sky made of churning colors like the last place she'd been, but they're pastel and much prettier. A warm breeze brushes past her face and she takes a deep breath of it, it smells sweet and warm, heavy with the scent of growing things, and for the first time since this started she finds some peace. Peace which is quickly shattered by a familiar, grating voice.

She jumps and whirls around so quick she falls onto her butt. There, floating just inches from where her head had been, is Bill. Laughing at her of course.

"Whoops! Didn't mean to scare you there, Car Wreck!" he claims, moving through the air to look around, then turning back around to look at her. "So how do you like the new digs?"

There's a beat of silence where she just stares at him again, but quickly she shakes off the shock and tries to respond. "Uh...It's nice." She lets her eyes roam around for a second, before returning to Bill, "Where are we?"

"This is the Realm of Daydreams! Your new HQ!" he answers, floating around behind her and making a grand gesture with his arms.

She turns her head to follow him, "Daydreams? HQ?"

"Yep! This is where you'll hang out when you're not puppeting your little pawns." He turns around to look at the scenery more himself. "Kinda dull if you ask me. Maybe you can do something about that!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh you know, some pillars of anguish, an alter of unholy fire, maybe a blood fountain or a couple of-" he gestures with each suggestion, like a landscaper creating a vision, until she cuts him off.

"No I mean," she finally pushes herself to a stand, teetering a little till she finds her balance. "Pawns?"

He turns back to her, "Oh yeah, which ones do you want anyway?" he waits a beat for an answer, but she just stares back at him, clearly not following. "Ugh, our deal?"

He hadn't really told her what the deal was, just mentioned a game and a second chance. "Uhh, I don't think you-"

"Oh right, you flesh bags need everything explained to you." he groans, rolling his eye, "Alright, here's the deal. We're gonna play a little game," he holds out his hand and a little hologram like projection appears showing an aerial view of a town. "and the people of this hick town are gonna be the pieces." ten little blue stick figures appear in the center of town, each with a little symbol above it's head. "If you win, you rejoin the land of the living!" a little magenta stick figure pops into existence next to the others and they all do a little happy dance. "If I win..." suddenly the whole projection goes up in flames, and she jerks her head back instinctively, "You burn with rest of those worthless mortals!" He bursts into a fit of maniacal laughter, which actually gives her some times to recover.

After a second of shocked staring, she blinks a few times then puts on as neutral an expression as she can. "Ok. So what are the rules?"

"Simple!" he answers, cutting off his laughter "We can't directly manipulate each other's pawns, and we can't interfere with the other's powers."

"That's it?"

"Yep. Everything else is fair game"

"Ok...What are my powers?"

"Same as mine! Except you don't have to wait till someone falls asleep to get in their head."

"I see..." her eyes wander to the ground as she contemplates the information, and her hand reaches for the longest of her three necklaces to idly play with the spiked pendant. "So you can talk to them in dreams, and I can talk to them in daydreams."

"Bingo!"

She scrunches her nose a little, thinking of a few ways that could end up being annoying. "Alright, anything else I need to know?"

"Hmm, nope! That just about covers it. All that's left is to pick our pawns, I'll even let you go first!" And with that ten, glowing, blue symbols appear between them. She looks them over carefully, she knows who each symbol corresponds to- supposing the cartoon from her world is accurate. She considers the six-fingered hand, if she takes him out of Bill's control from the start that derails his whole plan as she knows it. But, then she'll have no clue what's up to at all, at least by letting Bill have the pawns she's familiar with she has a chance at guessing his moves. She reaches forward and touches the shooting star, it turns magenta and floats to hover closer to her.

"Interesting." Bill comments, though his tone doesn't sound very interested, as he makes a simple motion with his eye and the six-fingered hand settles beside him. She chooses the fish looking symbol next, and Bill's second choice in the pine tree. They go back and forth till they have five symbols each, Bill having the the six-fingered hand, the pine tree, the llama, the stitched heart, and the pentagram. While she has the shooting star, the fish, the bag of ice, the spectacles, and the question mark.

"Welp, that settles that. Nice picks you made there, lets hope they work out for ya, Car Wreck"

"Could you not call me that?" though it hardly sounds like a request.

"And what else should I call you?" Bill asks, collecting his symbols into one hand and placing the other on his...hip?

"How about my name? It's Maranwe."

"But Car Wreck fits you so much better! Just take a look!" he quips, snapping a full-length mirror into existence. Maranwe turns to look and gasps in horror. Bill breaks out into more cackling, "Well my work here is done! I'll let you get cleaned up, see ya around Car Wreck!" And with that he fades from existence.

Maranwe just stares, even as Bill disappears from 'her' realm, she can only stare at her destroyed refection. Her hair is messy- and she almost laughs that that's what her brain zeros in on first-, It's also dirty, some of the mess is actual dirt but several spots are matted with half-dry blood. Her face is in a similar condition, smeared with dirt and blood but she can see the wounds there. Scrapes and still oozing cuts, bruises forming on one cheek bone and under her eyes. Her nose isn't quite right...broken probably. Her vision skims over her whole body for a second, making note of similar injuries where tears in her clothes reveal them. It's not as bad as she would expect a car crash victim to look- "except for that" Her mind screams suddenly while all her mouth can do is gasp, as her attention lands dizzyingly on her neck. It's...purple, but also red? There's no spilled blood but it still looks ugly, and the worst part is the...bump. It's not hard to figure out that it's a misaligned bone. Without the pain to tell her she never would have noticed, her neck is broken. Very broken. How is she holding her head up right... Probably because this isn't actually a physical body. She wonders if this is what killed her, or if there's something inside, something she can't see, that did the trick.

Whatever it is, she can't be seen like this. And she really really doesn't want to look like this for her own sake. Bill said she could 'clean herself up'? How exactly... She thinks about how Bill's powers tend to work and tries to concentrate on a cleaner, less beat up mental image of herself. She lifts her hand to her cheek and grazes her finger tips across it, a trail of sparkles follow the touch and the skin underneath returns to normal. She relaxes a little, watching the disaster wipe off her face like cheap make-up. She keeps the image in her mind and closes her eyes, cupping her hands in front of herself and imagining the sparkles pooling in them. Then she splashes the sparkles over he face, like a girl in a face wash commercial, and imagines the glittering dust washing over her entire body, cleaning away the mess and injuries. And when she opens her eyes, that's exactly what's happened. Her reflection shows her whole and unwounded, even her clothes are fixed.

The next thing she does is smooth her hair down, mostly an instinct since it's still messy, and the sparkles trail after her hands, tidying the strands as if she'd just brushed them. She watches her reflection's mouth quirk up a little in a small smirk. So she can just change what she looks like by imagining it? That figures, this is a place of daydreams that's kind of how they work. She knows exactly what to do with this, she's known since she was a kid what she's change if she could. She places the backs of her hands next to her ears and flicks up, sparkles spray up with the motion and her normal human ears, turn to wolf ears the fur the same chocolate brown as her hair. Her smirk blooms into a full blown smile, and she tilts her head to get a better look at them, watching them move as she tests them. It's like they're real! Next is the tail of course, it's mostly brown, with some silver down the top and a black tip. Then she looks down, and taps the toe of each of her shoes against the ground in turn, as she does they become the compressed paws of her own design.

"That's insane..." she laughs to herself. She's actually turning herself into something else, her own made up alien species. And she just can! With the big changes out of the way she works out the details; pupil shape, fang length, and straightens out a few asymmetries and insecurities she's always had about her body- after all why not? When she's done, she can't help admiring herself a little, turning this way and that in front of the mirror, her perfect image of herself. Well- almost perfect. She snaps her fingers and in the same dusting of glitter, her shirt changes. What was before a loose grey t-shirt with the word "nope" written across it in cursive, as been replaced by a cropped sweater, banded in 3 colors; white at the top, then light blue, then dark blue. She lifts it to look at the crop top under neither, it's just plain white. She decides she doesn't like it that way, so it changes to a cropped version of the t-shirt she'd had before. With that taken care of she lifts her arm so the over-sized sleeve falls down and she can see her forearm, which is covered by a light blue arm warmer with white lace around the edges. Perfect. At least for now. She can change later if she decides she doesn't like the arm warmers.

She giggles to herself, invigorated by the makeover and the sense of control she has now. She turns from the mirror and skips a few feet across the grass, the symbols she'd chosen follow her, floating loosely like beads suspended in gel. She laughs a little as she watches them, and idly reaches for her necklace again, but this time her hand just meets the soft knit of her sweater. She'd forgotten to add them into this new look, so she just wills them into place; three different necklaces of three different lengths. Her hand finds the middle length first, the pendant is designed to spin so she plays with it while her mind starts to wander. She starts thinking of plans for winning this game, what she might say to each other 'pawns' and who to use where and how, even letter her thoughts wonder about the new life she'll have. Cipher's hologram suggested she'll stay in Gravity Falls, which would be cool but what about-

The sound of screeching tires and twisting metal cuts her thoughts off clean and she whips around to find the source of the noise, but her fear turns to confusion when she sees...nothing. She stands stock still, her mind running over only vague impressions of thoughts relating to what she just heard, until another loud sound whips her back around. This time she actually sees something, like a huge firework in the pastel oil-slick sky, accompanied by Bill's obnoxious voice echoing through the space.

"Let the game begin!"

#I was on anon at first because I have ungodly amounts of social anxiety #gravity falls #gravity falls au #NM&DD #Nightmares and Daydreams #creative writing #?#fanfiction #fanfic #gravity falls fanfiction #Bill Cypher #gravity falls OC #now I'm gonna go die of embarrassment #I don't really consider myself a writer #i'm more of the drawing sort of artist #so I hope at least the pictures are good #someone please let me know if the cryptograms are illegible in that font #I'll post a translation if they're too hard to read

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lastbluetardis · 3 years

Text

And Baby Makes Seven (10/?)

Things don’t always go as planned. Faced with an unexpected pregnancy, James and Rose have to work quickly to get everything prepared for their fifth child, and to prepare their eldest children for a new addition to the family. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: teen, 5200 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 34, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 6, Twins: 7.5 months

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AO3 | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 |

Now that Ainsley had been let in on the secret of the new baby, Rose and James didn’t need to work as hard to uphold the facade. Sianin, bless her little heart, had no idea what was going on, but was glad that her mum wanted to laze around the house, which translated into Sianin getting plenty of snuggles on the sofa as they watched cartoons.

James seemed to be taking “over-protective” to a whole new level. He jumped at the chance to care for their children, either taking over or joining Rose in all bedtime routines. If a twin awoke in the middle of the night, he sprang out of bed before her groggy brain could even realize Hannah or Maddie had made a sound.

But when she brought it up to him, he flashed her a charming grin that never failed to melt her, and simply asked, “You’re upset that I want to care for my children?”

And really, when he put it like that, her irritation with him evaporated. She had to keep reminding him to let her help, though, lest the twins forget they had a mother.

James and Rose also used the opportunity to place more responsibilities on Sianin’s shoulders, to the girl’s displeasure. Since Rose wasn’t supposed to do most of the normal household chores, James taught Sianin how to vacuum, wash the floors, and a host of other minor but daily tasks.

Rose, though guilty that she was lounging around the house all day when she ought to be cleaning, was glad that Sianin was at least performing the tasks James assigned to her with minimal complaining.

Ainsley, meanwhile, took it upon herself to help her dad with anything he was doing and to check in with her mum to see if Rose needed anything.

“How long d’you have to rest for?” Ainsley asked as she settled in with Rose and Maddie on the couch for her nightly reading. Hannah was already in her crib for the night, but Maddie was stubbornly refusing to fall asleep in favor of getting snuggles and kisses from her mother.

“A few weeks,” Rose replied, blotting at the drool dripping down her baby’s chin with her jumper sleeve. Maddie scrunched her nose and turned her face away. “We’ve got a follow-up appointment next week to check the status of the bleed.”

Ainsley tilted her head to the side. “Why do you always do that? Make it plural? You said we’ve got an appointment, not I’ve got an appointment.”

Rose snorted. “You’re right. But your dad is joining me at the appointment. Plus, it’s an appointment to check on the baby, who is both his and mine. It feels wrong to claim sole ownership.”

“That’s actually really cute,” Ainsley admitted. She sighed dreamily. “Dad takes such good care of you when you’re unwell.”

A flood of adoration overtook Rose, squeezing her chest until inexplicable tears burned her eyes. She listened to her husband, who was in the kitchen assembling the girls’ lunches for tomorrow. He was humming to himself as he worked, the notes slightly flat and offkey.

“Yeah, he does,” Rose croaked.

“I hope I find someone just like him one day,” Ainsley said with a wistful sigh.

“I hope that for you, too.” Rose kissed Ainsley’s temple. “I hope that for all of my children.”

“How do you think it’ll work with Sianin and her soulmates?”

“What do you mean?”

Ainsley shrugged. “It’s hard to imagine having two soulmates. How can she love two people as equally and intensely as you love Dad?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, eh? Who knows whether Sianin’s relationship with Elena and Juliette will evolve into a romantic one.”

“I suppose,” Ainsley allowed. “But for argument’s sake, how would it work if they decided to let it be romantic? It seems so strange to be involved in a relationship with two people.”

“Strange as it might be to you, it’s normal for others. Love in all its forms is a beautiful thing, remember that.”

“It feels like it would be hard to make sure you aren’t showing favoritism to one versus another,” Ainsley said.

“Well, your dad and I have four children—we love you all with equal intensity and try not to show favoritism. I imagine it’s something similar.”

“Hmm. I don’t think I would want to be in a relationship with more than one person,” Ainsley admitted. “I want one person who is mine, and mine alone.”

“That’s perfectly reasonable,” Rose said. “You need to decide what works for you, just as Sianin will decide what works for her.”

Ainsley was quiet for several long seconds, but Rose could practically hear her daughter’s mind churning. While she let Ainsley think, she used the time to give kisses to the baby in her arms. The baby was finally getting drowsy; she had her cheek planted above Rose’s left breast, and her head rose and fell with her mother’s breaths. Any time Maddie’s eyes began to droop shut, she wrenched them open and gazed up at her mother.

Being the singular focus of her baby’s attention always made her heart squeeze with love and gratitude. She was the whole world to this tiny, perfect little human, and for a moment, as Rose got lost in her baby’s blue eyes, Maddie was her whole world, too.

“Do you think her eyes will stay blue?” Ainsley asked.

“I think so,” Rose said. “Usually if they change, they would’ve changed by now. All of my babies’ eyes started out blue. In Sianin’s case, they turned brown after a couple months. Yours stayed more or less the same color. And the twins’ appear to be brightening… they kind of look like Gran’s, don’t they?”

Ainsley peered down at Maddie. The baby shifted her sleepy eyes to her big sister, and offered a smile that widened into a yawn. Ainsley snorted and rubbed Maddie’s back. The baby grunted and wiggled around before face-planting into the crevice between Rose’s breasts.

“Silly girl,” Ainsley murmured. “Yeah, they do look like Gran’s. How does that work? I mean, I sort of know how it works. But her DNA is half you, half Dad, and yet she has Gran’s eyes. And apparently I look like Dad’s mum.”

“My DNA is half my mum and dad, and your dad’s DNA is half his mum and dad,” Rose said. “There are bits of all of our past family swirling inside of us, and it’s a lottery draw as to which traits get passed on to a baby.”

“That’s kind of neat,” Ainsley said. “It’s so fascinating that so many things have to happen perfectly to create a baby.” She paused, then continued in a rush, “We had the talk at school today. Y’know, how the girls and boys should be starting puberty soon, if they haven’t started already. One girl in my class had her first period months ago, which is mad. She’s nine! They also explained how in a couple years we’ll all be sexually mature and be able to make babies and so we all have to be very, very careful to prevent unwanted pregnancies as we’re exploring our bodies.

“They went over how a baby is made. Just the basics. Y’know, penis in vagina, sperm meets egg equals baby. I didn’t know that men released millions and millions of sperm when they had sex. That seems like overkill, doesn’t it?”

“What seems like overkill?”

Rose jumped at the sound of James’s voice right behind her. Her mind whirred, trying to wrap itself around the sudden turn their conversation had taken, as well as the fact that her baby was old enough to be learning the basics of human reproduction in school already.

“Did you know you made and released millions of sperm at a time when you have sex?” Ainsley asked, her eyes bright.

James was silent for a beat, cheeks pinkening and mouth going slack. He cleared his throat. “Er… yeah. Yeah, I did know that. But where did you learn that?”

“They gave us the talk in school.”

“Ah,” he said, wincing.

“Why do you make millions of sperm when only one will actually fertilize the egg?” Ainsley asked, cocking her head to the side. She then glanced down at Maddie, who was drooling into Rose’s shirt. ��Er, or I guess two?”

“Actually, it was just one sperm,” Rose corrected.

Ainsley frowned. “But… there are two babies.”

“But they’re identical,” James said. “Genetically, they’re the same. Basically, one of my sperm met your mum’s egg, then that egg divided somewhat incorrectly to begin producing two separate babies with the same exact genetic code.”

“Oh. So your egg accidentally made a clone of itself?”

Rose snorted. “Something like that.”

Ainsley looked impressed. Then she said, “But still. Why make millions of sperm? That’s a bit wasteful, isn’t it?”

“It’s all about statistics,” James answered, scrubbing at the back of his neck. “Would you rather try to hit a target with one arrow or many? What if that one arrow is defective somehow? Or your aim is slightly off? By releasing tens of millions of sperm in one go, you increase the odds of fertilization; and the egg can be a bit choosier by only allowing the strongest of the bunch to fertilize it and begin making a baby.”

“Oh. That makes a lot of sense, actually,” Ainsley said. “What stops all of the sperm from penetrating the egg and creating a million babies?”

“Once a sperm meets the egg, it basically walls itself off from getting fertilized again,” James explained. “When sperm meets egg, a biological cascade effect begins. The woman’s egg recognizes it’s been fertilized, so it begins producing chemicals and hormones that tell the rest of the body to prepare for the oncoming baby. And it shuts down egg production so there’s no chance of multiple fertilized eggs trying to grow a baby after one is already growing. Imagine how cramped it would get in there. And imagine how hard it would be on the woman to have multiple babies all at different stages of development in her uterus. Evolution has figured out how to control everything so that doesn’t happen.”

“That’s so cool,” Ainsley said.

“It is a bit cool,” James said, smiling.

“It’s weird that women are born with all the eggs they’ll ever have, but men keep making more and more sperm ‘til they die. That’s way more efficient. What if something happens to the woman and her egg supply is damaged? At least with men, they can regenerate their sperm.” Ainsley cocked her head at her father. “In theory, you could help make a baby when you’re a hundred, right?”

James choked. “I… well… yes, technically. But my baby-making partner would also be a hundred—well, ninety-five—and since she would no longer be fertile, I wouldn’t be helping to make any more babies. Besides, the… ehm… the quality of sperm deteriorates over time. It’s not usually a good idea to procreate after a certain age. And, ehm… the act of making a baby gets… ehm… more difficult in old age. So… ehm… I’m not sure we’d… that we’d… Although I would truly love to be with your mother in that way in our old age, statistically it’s not all that probable so I’m not really expecting to… not that I wouldn’t want to… but…”

Rose kneaded the heel of her hand into her eyes as James’s gob ran without stop and without filter. She eventually reached over and pinched him. He squeaked, but snapped his mouth shut. Ainsley, meanwhile, was in stitches on the sofa, cackling madly as both her parents’ cheeks blazed.

oOoOo

Two weeks and two days after learning she had subchorionic hemorrhage, Rose walked into her OB-GYN, this time with her husband at her side. Despite the fact that her bleeding and cramping had stopped nearly a week ago, she was a little nervous to see what Elizabeth would have to say.

James must have sensed her anxiety, because he threaded their fingers together and rubbed at the back of her thumb while they waited for Rose’s name to be called. He talked to her about nothing in particular, filling the silence between them. Rose let the soothing rhythm of his voice calm her until Elizabeth appeared in the waiting room and called name, gesturing for her to follow.

“How are you feeling?” the midwife asked as she took Rose’s height and weight. “You’ve lost some weight since I saw you two weeks ago. Nothing worrying, but something to keep an eye on. Especially since you ought to be putting on weight as your pregnancy progresses.”

“My appetite is still finicky,” Rose admitted. “Nausea is mostly gone though. I’m hoping that will help. But otherwise, I feel fine.”

“Any bleeding? Cramping? Dizziness?”

Rose shook her head and stepped off the scale, following Elizabeth down the corridor to an exam room. James followed silently and settled into the chair beside the exam table. An ultrasound machine already sat in the corner of the room, and, familiar with the routine, Rose reclined on the table and exposed her belly.

Déjà vu settled over her as she remembered the utter terror of two weeks ago, certain her midwife was about to confirm her worst fear. Her pulse thundered in her ears and she began to tremble as her mind warred with itself, half of it trying to calm her, and the other half spinning out of control. James scooted his chair closer to her and leaned his elbow onto the table above her head. His warmth and scent surrounded her.

“You’re okay, love,” he whispered, kissing her forehead softly. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

“What a cute little bump,” Elizabeth cooed, squirting cool gel onto said bump between Rose’s hips. “Let’s see the cute little baby inside it, eh?”

Rose reached over and grabbed James’s free hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing tightly. He bent down to kiss her forehead again, then he brought their joined hands to his mouth to kiss her knuckles one at a time.

“Here we are,” Elizabeth said, tapping a few buttons into her keyboard.

Rose looked at the monitor and her heart clenched at the sight of her baby. They seemed to be about the same size as before, but Elizabeth was pleased with the baby’s appearance.

“They’re rather active,” the midwife noted, readjusting the probe when the shifting baby went out of focus. “Are you able to feel them, Rose?”

“Not yet,” she croaked. She desperately wanted to, though. She wanted that little flutter of life between her hips. She wanted the undeniable proof that her baby was alive and healthy and growing, because what if the scan was somehow wrong? Rose squeezed her eyes shut and focused deep within herself, trying to sense any ripple of movement in her uterus.

Her eyes shot open when the midwife tapped a few buttons and the heartbeat echoed around the room.

James let out a soft, “Oh,” his grip on her hand turning vice-like.

Rose glanced up at her husband, but his gaze was locked on the monitor, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. The sight of them made her own eyes prickle. She would never tire of seeing the awe on his face as he beheld their children. He treated each day with their kids as though it was the most precious gift he’d been given; this baby was no exception, and Rose could already see how in love her husband was with the tiny fetus inside her. She could plainly see him, seven months from now, weeping as he held their newborn for the first time, curling his body around theirs as though he could physically shield their baby from any harm the world might bring to them. She could see him sitting with the baby in the dead of night, half asleep himself, yet holding their small child to his chest as he rocked them.

God, she wanted that, was impatient for these visions to come true. Even though she regularly saw him holding and snuggling the children they already had, Rose was desperate to give him his fifth child and bring completion to their not-so-little-anymore family.

“Our baby looks healthy,” James said, his voice hoarse. Rose blinked away the visions in her mind’s eye and was brought back to the present, where her husband was no longer looking at the baby on the screen, but rather down at Rose. She flashed him a small smile that he returned before he focused on the midwife, his gaze intense. “But how is Rose? How is the hemorrhage? Is she healthy and safe?”

“Let’s take a look at that next.” Elizabeth zoomed out away from the baby, and instead shifted the focus of the ultrasound probe to the gray masses surrounding the baby. “Here we go.”

After taking a few seconds to orient James and Rose to what she was talking about, Elizabeth pointed to a black blob along the edge of the placenta. “Here’s the clot. And yes, it is just a clot now. It appears to no longer be actively bleeding, which is excellent news. The placenta is intact, which is also great news. Sometimes a concern is that the bleeding will cause the placenta to pull away from the uterine wall, but that is not the case here. I am very, very happy with what I’m seeing.”

Rose let out a deep breath. James, too, relaxed a fraction.

“Can I go back to business as usual?” Rose asked.

“Let’s not be hasty,” James answered instead.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Rose drawled, reaching up to pat his cheek.

Elizabeth pursed her lips around a grin. She wiped the expression off her face and said, “I see no reason why not. Obviously you are limited as any other pregnant woman is, and I would try to take it easy for the next couple weeks as the clot dissolves, but yes, you should be able to resume all activities as normal.”

Rose was fairly certain she’d read between the lines correctly, yet she asked, “Sex too?”

James let out a little squeak that had Rose rolling her eyes. Elizabeth’s entire profession revolved around people having had biologically-successful sex. They themselves were here because they’d had successful sex. Nutter.

“Yes, you may resume your sexual activities,” the midwife answered.

Rose nodded. She hadn’t been in the mood for sex lately, too concerned was she with the baby and will following the instructions to rest. She knew that James’s sex drive had mirrored her own in his double concern for her and the baby. While she still didn’t have the desire to drag James straight into bed when they got home, Rose was glad it was at least an option, if the mood struck. She’d find other ways to satisfy James if or when his sex drive returned while hers remained elusive.

“Is Rose okay to travel?” James asked. “We were planning to take the kids up to Scotland for half-term break next week. Probably travelling by train.”

“I’ve been cleared to shag your brains out, but no, the movement of a train will be far too vigorous for my delicate condition,” Rose muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

James flicked her nose but didn’t reply.

“Yes, she should be fine,” Elizabeth said, pretending not to have heard their exchange. “Just listen to your body, Rose. It will do a good job of telling you what it needs. Try not to overexert. Rest when you’re tired. Make sure you’re getting enough vitamins and nutrients. Things like that.”

“Thanks,” Rose said. “And while we’re talking about it, do you happen to have any connections with midwives in Scotland? Near Glasgow? James and I are going to be relocating our family. The move isn’t happening next week or anything; we’re getting the kids used to the area and the house we’ll be moving into.”

“And you say I’m chatty,” James teased.

Rose rolled her eyes.

“Funnily enough, I do,” Elizabeth said. “One of my very close friends. We went to school together. I can send you her contact information, as I don’t have it on hand right now. I can also reach out to her to see if she can see you next week, if you’d like? A consultation visit, mostly, assuming she is taking new patients and is near enough to where you’ll be living.”

“That’d be brilliant,” Rose said, accepting the moist towels the midwife handed to her and cleaning off her belly.

Elizabeth made a few notes on her computer, then printed out another scan of the baby for them, despite them having one from two weeks ago. She also scheduled Rose’s twenty-week appointment, which would be shortly after the holidays. Rose was already impatient for January sixth to be here; it would be the appointment when she and James would learn the sex of their baby, something Rose always loved learning. But this time was the added game of being able to tease James for his apparent inability to produce a Y-chromosomed sperm. As though that was something he could control. (A fact he liked to remind her of often.)

“As always, you can call us if there are any questions or concerns,” Elizabeth said as she walked them to the front lobby. “But I’m very pleased with everything I’ve seen today.”

After thanking her, James slipped his fingers between Rose’s and guided her out to their car.

oOoOo

The following week, James and Rose willed themselves to have endless reserves of patience as they readied their children for the trip to Scotland. It felt like they had to pack up their entire house to ensure they had enough supplies for all the kids, including toys and games in addition to the endless articles of clothing.

Robert, bless him, was accompanying them, to help with child care and to give his opinion on the work they might want done to the manor house. James had reached out to half a dozen different remodeling companies to have them come out and take a look at the work he and Rose wanted done; they were due to arrive at the end of the week, since James and Rose wanted the first few days to walk around the house and make lists of repairs and upgrades that could be done, both internally and externally to the grounds.

The train ride went as well as could be expected when travelling with four children. Ainsley was content to read for the entire journey, but Sianin loudly proclaimed she was bored barely an hour into the trip. The twins were awake and wanting to crawl around, but there was only so much space in the compartment car. James, Rose, and Robert took turns walking a fussing baby up and down the length of the train, introducing the infant to cooing passengers who fawned over how beautiful she was. The passengers were extra delighted to realize they were identical twins.

Finally, the train docked in Glasgow, where the Tyler-McCrimmons picked up a rental vehicle and made the half-hour drive out of the city proper to the manor house.

The excitement at the prospect of permanently living in the “castle” evaporated Ainsley and Sianin’s travel exhaustion. As soon as James unlocked the front door, they bolted inside and began chattering to each other about where their playroom should be and calling dibs on the bedrooms.

“I want this one,” Sianin announced, gesturing to the master suite.

“That one is off-limits,” James said lightly, tweaking the end of her braid. “Available to mummies and daddies only. Same with the guest suite on the other side. That’s for when Gran or Grandad stay to visit.”

Sianin deflated a bit, but perked back up when James reminded her that there were plenty of other bedrooms to choose from.

Rose, meanwhile, immediately began to visualize how she would decorate. The current color scheme of the manor was dark, but not gloomily so. Even still, Rose thought that brightening the wall colors from burgundy to a rich cream or ivory would help open up the space and blend the rooms together. It would also make the house feel cleaner, and with five children tearing it apart, Rose knew she and James could use all the help they could get in that department.

The floors were in excellent shape, having been replaced shortly after Ainsley was born. Robert had come to her and James when he was having the work performed so they could help pick out the color and style of the various hardwood, tile, and carpeted floors in all of the rooms. Belatedly, Rose realized that Robert had done so because he knew this home would belong to them in the near future.

From the foyer, which was lit from the warm glow of the chandelier hanging from the high ceiling, Rose stared straight ahead into the formal dining room that used to be a ballroom; the kitchen extended beyond that through a set of wide oak doors that were currently closed. She already knew that the kitchen was huge and open, thanks to James’s grandmother having remodeled it to use up more of the defunct ballroom space. The kitchen housed a long table that would easily fit their large family; therefore, the formal dining room wouldn’t be necessary until they hosted holidays or had friends over. Otherwise, that could easily be a place for the children to do their homework.

To her right was what used to be a receiving room, but had evolved over the last century to be the living room. It was already furnished with a couch, a love seat, and a few reclining chairs placed strategically around a television. A fireplace sat along the far wall, and Rose could already see herself sitting in the rocking reclining chair and nursing her new baby, or snuggling with one of her other four children or husband as the fire crackled merrily beside them. Goosebumps prickled along Rose’s skin at the thought of her and James making love by the fireplace, a vision straight out of a Victorian romance novel.

Blinking away that fantasy for the time being, Rose continued her mental mapping of the manor. Behind the living room was another room that had been a different receiving room—most likely, she presumed, a space for the gentlemen when the ladies had overtaken the first receiving room. Because God forbid men enjoy their wives’ presence.

James’s parents had converted that into a study area for James; Rose thought it would make a nice playroom for their family. It had plenty of room to store the kids’ endless number of toys, and it had a closet where they could keep their games. The flooring in there was currently hardwood; Rose made a mental note to chat with James about replacing it with something softer.

Extending beyond the living room was a narrow hallway that opened up to what had once been servants’ quarters. Rose knew that James’s grandmother had remodeled it and created a larger footprint, converting the area into a spacious a guest suite; it was where Robert always slept when he visited, unable to stomach being in the master bedroom ever since he’d lost his wife.

To the left of the foyer was a long, wide corridor with several rooms branching off of it. One of those rooms was a library that Rose already knew Ainsley would practically make her second bedroom. Rose planned to outfit the room with a variety of comfortable furniture and a desk. Directly beside the library and connected with a door was a formal study; she figured James would like to make that his space, filling it with textbooks and knickknacks and turning it into a place he could mark papers and exams on the weekends or weeknights.

Directly beside the study and again connected through a set of doors was a secondary study. This one was at the end of the manor, and therefore had windows on the two external walls. It was filled with plenty of natural lighting and Rose thought it would make a perfect place for her to set up her art studio.

On the opposite side of the corridor from the library and studies were a series of small rooms. There was a half bath that was mostly just a closet with a toilet and a sink, and two small rooms that Rose genuinely didn’t know the purpose of. They were far too big to be closets, but a tad too small to be bedrooms. Rose didn’t care what they used to be; instead, she planned to make the rooms a nursery: one for the twins, until they were big enough for proper beds, and the other for the new baby. It would be perfect, since the last room at the end of the corridor was the master suite.

Rose already knew the suite was enormous, yet it took her breath away to behold it. The room would easily fit their king-sized bed and all of their bedroom furniture, and still have room for more. Perhaps they could put a cushy rocking chair in this room as well as the nurseries; there could never be enough cozy furniture to cuddle her children, Rose thought.

There was a giant walk-in closet connected to the bedroom, as well as a double-vanity ensuite. The bathroom, too, was huge, outfitted with a tub and a walk-in shower stall; both the tub and shower had plenty of room for her and James to share, which would be perfect for intimate date nights.

Moving from room to room, Rose catalogued how she would arrange furniture and paint colors that would look good in each room and blend the entire ground floor of the house together. She took note of the flooring, and which rooms should be outfitted with carpets rather than hardwood floors or tile, or vice versa. When she and James helped Robert pick out the floors, they’d only had Ainsley; at the time, she hadn’t been able to imagine having five children. Now, she couldn’t imagine anything differently.

“I can see that beautiful mind of yours at work already.” James came up behind her as she weighed whether the library ought to be carpeted or left as it was with hardwood floor. He wrapped his arms around her waist and casually splayed a palm on her lower belly, kissing the side of her neck and sending pleasant tingles across her skin. “What are you thinking?”

Rose leaned into him, tilting her head back to catch his gaze. His eyes were bright with joy and soft with love; she found herself falling in love with him all over again. She turned in his arms, draping her forearms over his shoulders.

“I’m thinking,” she murmured, pushing up onto her toes so that her mouth hovered mere inches from his, “that this already feels like home.”

And though she planted a kiss to his lips as she finished speaking, his answering smile was dazzling.

#ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #soulmates #soulmates au #family fic #kid fic #baby fic #pregnancy #fluff #romance #my fic #and baby makes seven #soulmates verse #perfectly matched series

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