#i left things vague just in case!! since i am not sure what verse this is o:

[shina913]

The Thrill | KNJ

The Thrill (An Intersect drabble)

✫✫✫Intersect Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: KNJ x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: Established relationship; fluff; smut

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff; grand romantic gestures; cussing; clit play; breast play; dirty talk; unprotected penetrative sex in a committed and monogamous relationship; soft aftercare

Word count: 2,993 words

Summary: “Nooo...stop it.”

A/N: I guess this is the result of the amalgamation of all the boyfriend/thirsty content that Namjoon has been dropping lately. I really have no excuse when it comes to him. I say this as my BFE!Yoongi WIP pouts in the corner, mid-smut scene--you’re next, I promise!!! 🤪  Thank you, Sim @itdoesntmatterwhy​​ for reading this through and giving me some good notes!

A/N2: The Thrill is one of my favorite Miguel songs. It’s so much better live than the original recording.“We can be the riot in the air tonight/Start the kind of trouble you can taste.”  I debated cutting it off right before the smut but then...Joon’s Smoke Sprite verse happened so...you can blame that for the second half of this!

A/N3: You don’t need to read the series to get into this. I included some callbacks but they’re not necessarily crucial to be able to understand this drabble.

“Baby! Have you seen my–”

You giggle to yourself as this neverending saga of Namjoon asking, ‘have you seen this thing that I always use and yet I always forget where I keep it,’ continues.

“Check the first drawer on your left-hand side of the hallway cabinet,” you yell from the bathroom. You hear him let out an audible sigh of relief as he retrieves the item that he needs for your trip.

“Got it, thank you! Never leave me, please,” he calls out when he re-enters your bedroom.

You laugh while reaching for your face wash to begin your bedtime routine. You also had a flight to catch tomorrow.

From your bathroom, you hear Namjoon scuttling around–distant sounds of drawers opening, closet doors sliding on their track, then followed by the rustling sound of things being stuffed into his suitcase.

You press your face oil gently into your skin, the last step in your skincare regimen. Afterward, you double-check your cosmetics case on the counter to make sure that you had all of your travel essentials.

From your peripheral vision, you catch his reflection in the mirror. When you lift your head, you find him leaning against the doorframe, eyeing you intently.

He wore a dorky but affectionate smile on his face while his arms were crossed over his chest.

“Lose something again?” You ask in a teasing tone.

He shook his head slowly. “I found everything I needed.”

“Well, as we always say, if we forget something, we can always buy it out there.”

He nods vaguely, not really caring about anything else. He still stood there, sporting the same grin on his face.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs.

“And yet you’re just going to stand there gawking?”

“Nah, I’m just…thinking.”

Your eyebrows lift in curiosity. You lean your hip against the bathroom counter, somewhat mirroring his posture.

“About what?”

“How lucky I am to be with you.”

Your breath hitches and your cheeks flush. “That’s it?”

“And I’m also thinking how glad I am that Celina forced us to work on that contract bid together,” he chuckled.

You laughed in turn and thought back on how your relationship began. His unexpected nostalgia piqued your curiosity. 

He gently pushes off the doorframe and saunters toward you. He stopped short, lifted his hand to your cheek, and brushed it with his thumb. “You’re so beautiful, my love,” he whispered.

The sentiment made warmth bloom within your chest. Then, looking at your reflection in the mirror, you let out a soft chuckle. 

“What’s so funny about what I said?” He asks.

“I mean, look at me! I look all funny,” you replied. You still had your spa headband on and looked like a glazed donut since your face oil hadn’t quite set into your skin yet.

“You know I don’t care about that,” he waved you off. “And for the record, I am looking at you. I think you’re beautiful whether you’re all done up, dressed in your sexy power suit; or bare-faced in your flannel pajamas.” He planted a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Okay, what’s gotten into you?”

He shrugs, still grinning. “I’m just really looking forward to our vacation.”

But the way he smiled roused more suspicion in you. “Uh-huh, sure.” 

You’d booked this trip a while ago and you had to make sure that you and Namjoon had synchronized your calendars months in advance to have a quiet, uninterrupted week where you both could unwind and reconnect.

Namjoon also insisted on booking a couple of island excursions for you, which was a shock because he didn’t usually like having scheduled activities while on vacation. We go on vacation to get away from schedules, he often said.

He remained tight-lipped about what he has planned. The only hint he’s given you was that it would be totally unexpected and to pack comfortably. It was no help to you at all.

You finally take off your headband and stow it under your skincare drawer. “I’m pretty excited, too. I can’t wait to find out what you have planned for us.” 

He bit at his bottom lip to stifle a laugh. “Good. I’m glad you’re looking forward to it!” His arms snake around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Actually, while I stood back there watching you, I thought I’d give you a sneak peek of what I had planned before we leave. It’s nothing huge.” Then he squints one eye and gestures with his thumb and forefinger. “Just this small, tiny thing,” he grins mischievously.

While your mind races about this ‘surprise’, he breaks away from you and sinks his hand into his pocket. As you watch him get down on one knee, you swallow the grapefruit-sized lump in your throat. It takes you a few seconds to realize that he was holding up an open box in his hand. In it was the tell-tale ring that had been burning a hole into your brain since discovering its existence.

Your hands fly up to cover your mouth in shock at the sight of it. It was anything but small or tiny– judging by the solitaire’s cut.

“YN, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

You were completely dumbfounded. You’d thought about this moment; pictured it over and over in your head. What the scenario would be, what he would say to you, and how you would feel. You’d even planned potential outfits!

And now, it was actually happening. You’re standing in your bathroom, barefoot, dressed in a worn-out sleep shirt and your underwear.

You were so utterly overcome with emotion, the first words that come out of your mouth are, “Nooo…stop it…” You whined softly through your trembling fingers as the tears start pushing their way past your eyes. 

It was not exactly the reaction nor the response that he envisioned. Confused, he asks, “I’m sorry, what? D-did you just say…‘no’?”

He also looked like he was on the verge of tears, but for a completely different reason.

When your brain cells manage to click again, you laugh through your sniffling. You hastily kneel right in front of him. “Oh, no…baby…” His face crumples at the sound of ‘no.’ Realizing your mistake again, you continue to rectify the situation. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you explain.

Finally, you grab his face in your hands, bring it closer to yours, then plant a lingering kiss on him. You look him right in his eyes, and squeal, “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you!” 

He cracks a hesitant smile and in the softest voice possible, he asks, “Really?”

“Yes, Namjoon! I love you!” You kiss him again and apologize. “I was just so…overwhelmed by the moment and ...how,” You took a second to glance down at your pants-less state, “…Uhhh… comfortable, I look.” You babbled and laughed through teary eyes.

“I really didn’t mean to say ‘no’ and scare you. I panicked and it just sort of slipped out,” You were still shaking, feeling as if your heart would burst from so much joy and love for him.

He breaks into a throaty laugh, his chest and shoulders vibrating, much to your relief.

“I seriously didn’t expect this, though,” you remarked in earnest.

“Are you kidding?” He deadpans, thinking back to when you saw the ring’s order confirmation email on his phone. “You mean to tell me that you weren’t expecting this? At all?” his tone is light and teasing.

Since finding out about the ring, you’d been secretly trying to search where he’s hidden it. Your little brother, Jungkook, had been discouraging you from doing so because it would ruin the magic of the moment. 

“I mean, I had hoped that it would happen during our trip,” you admit shyly.

“Hah! I gotcha there, didn’t I?” He says smugly. In reality, Namjoon had asked Jungkook to keep the ring hidden at his place after the day you found out to throw you off the scent. It worked out perfectly.

You rolled your eyes, but not in annoyance. He was being playful and you had to hand it to him; he pulled off this surprise successfully. 

While still on the floor, he carefully pulls the piece of jewelry out of the box. He takes your left hand and slides the ring up your finger. It was a perfect fit! He brought your hand up to his lips to kiss it, making you feel butterflies in response.

The fluttering compels you to kiss him again, celebrating this moment. Unable to stop smiling, your cheeks feel delightfully sore through the rest of the night.

******

When you crawl into bed together later that night, he makes a confession. “You know, I wasn’t actually planning on proposing tonight,” he laughed. “I had a whole thing planned when we got to the hotel. Jungkookie helped me coordinate. Dinner by the beach, flowers, and a ukulele player. He even called one of his buddies to do this wild drone shot…”

You listen as he continues to talk about his original proposal plan. You laugh and shake your head at the extra effort that Jungkook convinced his Namjoonie-hyung to make so you can be completely blown away.

You smile in appreciation as your brother has always been supportive of your relationship from day one. It was only right that you’d still make an effort to act surprised when the dinner happened–if only to hear Jungkook’s elation at the news.

“What’s changed your mind? You don’t usually blow your load early,” you teased. He glared while you cackled then he pinches the ticklish spot on your hip bone, making you yelp and recoil your body.

He’s laughing as you try to defend yourself from another ticklish assault from him.

“I don’t know…” He shrugged. “It’s just that, I saw you standing in the bathroom. While watching you, all of these memories came flooding back. Specifically, the moment I first saw you.”

“On that web conference?” You laughed at his recollection.

He nods wistfully. “I was in denial at first but I unconsciously knew that you had me right then. So I thought–fuck it! I didn’t care about where we were or what we were doing. I just knew that I wanted to be with you…forever.”

You beamed through your happy tears and pepper him with kisses.

*******

You wake the next morning like you’ve woken just about every morning since you’ve been with Namjoon–with him pressed into your back, his lips kissing down your spine slowly and lazily. It’s blissful, mind-numbing. And, as always, your melt under the warmth of his mouth rousing you from your dreams. 

The friction of your skin rubbing together takes you from warm to blazing in a snap. The feel of his morning arousal brushing your thighs awakens your senses.

You reach back, pushing your fingers through his morning mess of a hair, sighing your contentment.

“Morning,” he murmurs, peppering soft kisses on your shoulder while rolling his hips into your ass at the same time. His hands creep up from behind you to palm your breasts from underneath your shirt. You gasp softly when he gently pinches a hardened nipple.

“You ready for me, baby?”

Your body responds to his call instinctively. Your need for him is incessant. “Always.”

You reach back between you two and pull on your underwear’s waistband halfway down. Namjoon tugs on it the rest of the way through, lifting your knees up to completely rid yourself of them.

You wriggle toward him to find that he’d already stripped off his shorts. He palms your center, sucking and kissing your neck while his fingertips tease your clit.

You part your legs for him, not just wanting to give him better access but your ache for him has grown into a steady hunger.

You grind your hips into his touch, making him laugh huskily into your ear. “A little impatient, are we?”

“You started this and now you want to pump the brakes?” You sassed.

“There’s my firecracker,” he smirks before his teeth graze the shell of your ear. “Go ahead then. Put me in.”

As much as you loved when Namjoon took command during sex, it thrilled you even more when he relinquished control to you.

You reach between you two and wrap your fingers around his cock. He groans when your hand slides down his length slowly…teasing him until he groans impatiently, making him nip at your flesh. “Okay, you’ve made your point!” His annoyed protest makes you giggle mischievously.

You line him up to your center, brushing the tip against your wet folds, making him curse under his breath.

In one slow, calculated movement, he’s inside you. You grip his hair, crying out in unison once you take him to the hilt.

In an instant, you’re both floating on cloud nine, mere moments after waking. And you know that’s Namjoon’s intention each time— to start your day being reminded of how much he wanted and desired you…how much he loved you.

One look, one word from this man and he has you all worked up in a frenzy. You listen to him whisper sweet nothings in your ear, how good you make him feel, how he wishes he could spend hours and days just like this. You take comfort in the deep baritone of his just-woke-up voice. It was right on par with his bedtime voice, when he says that he wants to fuck you senseless, leaving you completely sated before you drift off for the night—thighs still trembling.

You lean into his touch, tilting your neck backward to offer your mouth to him. He takes it, tongue dipping right in, cupping your jaw whilst he savored you. 

Your bodies move in perfect synchronicity like they were made specifically with each other in mind…because they were. You’d never question the sense in that especially when you’re so close and intimate like this. 

“You still with me?” he whispers.

“Yes,” you manage to respond.

He pulls out of you and you let out a whine of protest. “On your stomach,” he says gruffly. 

Lost in a fucked-out daze, you obey.

He slides over you while you were stretched out on your stomach. His hand pushed between your hip and the mattress, reaching between your legs to cup you in his hand. You were so wet and slick for him. You let out a muffled moan when palmed your clit.

“I want you this way,” He says, brushing his lips across your cheek.

He reaches for his pillow with this free hand and then shoves it underneath you while lifting your hips to the angle that he wanted, preferably one that would let him sink in deeper.

“Joon…” The manner in which you said his name was a plea. He’d left you empty for too long and you were anxious for him to fill you again.

He acknowledges the need in your voice. “I know, baby.” He shifts, urging your legs apart. Then, he gently presses on the small of your back, urging you to bend lower, angling your ass up higher for him.

With his hands on your hips, he slid back into you. You fisted at the sheets on either side of you, relishing the stretch to your center.

“Fuck, yesss,” you dragged out.

He picked up the rhythm, feeling the air seize from your lungs whenever his hips slam against your ass. You pressed your face hard into your pillow, gasping and moaning incoherently while he continues to pound into you mercilessly.

His teeth gritted, barely restraining the growls that surged from his throat. His chest heaved against your back, his ragged breaths ruffling the hairs on the back of your neck.

His hips churned, fucking into you; pushing in further. He could feel your walls around his length. They clench in ripples that make his cock twitch in excitement.

The pressure building up within him was persistent but he was capable of keeping it under control. He wanted to give you all the pleasure he could offer. Your moans of satisfaction are more than enough to set off his own release.

You whimper, helplessly writhing under him while he punishes you with each stroke. Reaching between your legs, you rubbed circles on your pulsing clit, making your cunt tremble then tighten around his cock in a vice-like grip.

Finally, you tip over the edge. Cumming with a loud, lingering moan.

Aroused by your orgasm, he shut his eyes and dropped his forehead to your cheek. He inhaled your scent and let go, coming just as hard, his ass flexing as he filled you.

A few beats later, Namjoon gingerly turns you over on your back, pulling the pillow from underneath you and tossing it to the side. Exhausted, he collapses on you but is careful not to squish you. Although, if you were going to be honest, you loved the feeling of his full weight on top of you.

He was crowding you now, where he will remain for the next few minutes while he snoozes on you, nuzzling and kissing your misted neck. You hold onto him and savor the moment you cherish each morning before you have to get up and head to the airport for your trip.

He rubbed his damp hair against your cheek. “Love you.”

Your head turned, your lips seeking his. Breathing into the kiss, you reply, “Love you, too.”

You sigh into his shoulder as you settle, pressing him tightly against your chest, getting him as close as you possibly can. In your own silent way, you’re telling him that you’re also happy to remain where you are.

Smiling softly, he lifts your left hand up to his lips to kiss the ring he had given you last night. Your heart squeezes, relishing in the promise of forever with him.

You’ll always think back fondly on that magical evening when you said, “No…stop it.”

Intersect Series Masterlist | Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @itdoesntmatterwhy @internetjunkdrawer @purplewhalewrites @yu-justme @joonschocochip  @majamarantha @yoongukie-ff @shesoldbutcute​

[cheatdeathsarchive]

@eaglebearor​ sent:  ☾ for a random starter!!

“One more night alone I’ll go insane.”

She says it without realizing it’s out loud, and like it’s intentional she take a sip of her drink without flinching or pause. Maybe it’s the crowds around her. All she knows is that the stranger beside her has undoubtedly heard by the way she’s now being stared at.

“D’you ever get like that?”

[the-technicolor-whiscash]

!!

(Jenna marbles voice) Hell yeah - so for my next oc we have my beloved boy Sal. His name, believe it or not, is short for Salmon. That is his full legal name, Salmon. He goes by Sal for obvious reasons. He’s also been around for a hot minute I defo came up with him like… god maybe like 7 years ago? I’m not 100% sure the timeline is more vague on him. Sal’s the bartender at a bar for time travelers, which exists in a pocket dimension outside of time so that travelers from across time’s path can visit whenever, take a load off, and hang out with other time travelers. I originally conceived it as sort of a restaurant at the end of the universe style joint but with more Cheers mixed in, and I thought the concept of a bar for time travelers was interesting because in fiction being a time traveler is often incredibly isolating so I figured having a place for time travelers to gather would allow them to meet up and make friends and all that. If any of y’all are interested in the concept I have a lot of shit in my head about it that I could talk about so lmk.

Sal is the bartender because he too is immortal (because I am a sucker for immortals). Truth be told I don’t know how old he is because he is also pretty secretive about his past. It’s safe to assume he’s hundreds of years old though, and has seen some shit. He’s quiet, but knows when to speak up either for a good joke or to stop an argument, and he also speaks like hundreds of languages which is also part of why he was hired to be the bartender. He isn’t human but I’m not sure what he is lmao.

He’s gay, and is relatively well-versed in fashion (the problem is I’m not so it’s hard to make a guy who is lmao). It’s funny like most of my older ocs became gay over time but with Sal it was like from day 1 this guy is a gay man and he’s staying that way. He hasn’t had a long-term relationship in a while but lately he’s had an on-off kind of thing going on with Tony so we’ll see where that goes. (A lot of my oc stuff is ongoing cause I come up with it in my maladaptive daydreaming- that’s why so many of my ocs have been around for years lmao).

Sal can seem standoffish to those just meeting him but if he is your friend he will kill for you. He’s also relatively skilled in martial arts just in case anyone at the bar decides to get a little too rowdy or tries to get handsy with a waitress Sal can pull a Roadhouse on them and kick their ass out. He’s also like kind of built so he’s physically strong. Also yes his hair is naturally pink. It does grow that color.

Since I don’t have him in any video games (almost made a Hawke after him in da2 tho) I made a couple of picrews lmao the second one is closer to how I see his actual hair but the first one is closer to his actual fashion sense and facial structure. I’ve always seen him as having a favorite brown leather bomber jacket (I don’t know why, it’s just His Thing) with like pins and patches all over it. Maybe it’s left over from a punk phase I haven’t uncovered yet. Who knows. Also Luka’s in the second one cause I liked the vibe lmao

Sal is another one of my very special boys who I love a lot

Thanks for the ask!

[presumenothing]

first: do no harm

(AO3)

Dr. Mensah’s attention zeroed in on me like a well-tuned surgery bot arm. “You have medical training.”

I was going to deny the hell out of that. I really was.

And then I said: “Not recently,” instead of no or even more accurately I frankly don’t think the company’s education modules count as training by your standards. (As far as I was concerned, the only thing worse than those modules was the one on breaking bad news, but what did I know. Maybe humans actually felt comforted by those tactics they described.) (No, I didn’t think that was likely, either.)

Which reminded me of a necessary addition. “The company won’t cover liabilities related to any non-security tasks you assign me to, if that’s what you’re intending.”

Mensah made a sound that was both grim and viciously annoyed at once, which I immediately saved for further analysis and replication. “Then we’ll just have to not make any mistakes, won’t we?”

–

I hadn’t exactly been thrilled with getting assigned to this mission. Not that mining installations were much of a walk in the park, but this was just asking to turn up memories that were better off buried (preferably forever) in my organic parts.

I don’t usually pay attention to mission briefs, as you may have noticed, and I wouldn’t have this time either except that my half-assed scan turned up the fact that the team weren’t science-doctors on a survey like I’d initially assumed, but medical-doctors. On a medical mission.

Of course they were.

(I wanted to say that someone had allocated me to this on purpose, but realistically speaking the company didn’t give enough of a shit, and the universe disliked me enough that this could totally be pure chance.)

Considering all that, the mission so far had been… much less worse than it could’ve been. Though the bar for that was admittedly very, very low. Possibly somewhere in the negatives.

Anyway. Up until the whole thing with Bharadwaj and Volescu getting almost-but-not-eaten, the task of making sure no one died had mostly been the clients’ job for once, which was a nice change since they were actually competent at it.

I still didn’t care enough to read their background info, but it was pretty clear just from observing that these doctors had experience with working in less-than-great conditions, even if Ratthi did sometimes sigh wistfully about equipment they couldn’t have in field hospitals. It meant that my job had pretty much amounted to patrolling, lurking visibly around the supplies storage in case anyone got ideas about that, and helping to fetch various medical items when I happened to be there and it wasn’t Gurathin asking.

It wasn’t terrible. I’d even got some media-watching time in.

(There might have been the vague thought that things could’ve gone much better if I’d been deployed with a team like this instead of Corporation Rim fuckery that literally bled payment from patients, but part of the reason medical-use constructs had been developed in the first place was so that hospitals could draw up forty-hour shifts and other assorted fun without worrying about doctor and surgeon unions, which told you everything you needed to know about our existence.

Also, the thought was inherently depressing and I already had enough of that in my head, thank you very much.)

The contract was more than halfway through. All I had needed to do to avoid awkward questions was continue making sure no one noticed that I was weirdly well-versed in all this, which wasn’t difficult since they only seemed to have theoretical knowledge about SecUnits at best.

Then the fauna happened, and poof went my cover.

Now all of PresAux knew I was – whatever the hell you called a catastrophically failed MedUnit who got turned loose onto security, because at least if I screwed up here the press wouldn’t be as bad. And that wasn’t even getting into the hacked governor module.

Even constructs didn’t have a term for all that.

–

Of course, none of that stopped this from being a Very Bad Idea. Even if apparently no one except Gurathin (ugh) seemed to agree.

“I’m a SecUnit, Dr. Mensah. I scare people. Patients are harder to assess when they’re running away.” I thought basic logistics might work here.

“You had better bedside manner with Bharadwaj and Volescu than many doctors I’ve seen. Human ones, might I add, and not actively injured themselves at the time.” Mensah’s tone was brisk as her pace – which wasn’t difficult to keep up with either, given my vertical advantage, but impressive nonetheless. “And no one wants to be around Pin-Lee when she’s holding a scalpel. That’s what the sedation is for.”

It’s because SecUnit hasn’t seen her in court yet. Trust me, it’s much scarier, Ratthi chimed in over the feed, with the text signifier for “amusement” but not “joke”.

Pin-Lee just smiled.

It was terrifying. I wasn’t even looking directly at her.

“I don’t have a valid license.” That’d been a part of the legal fallout from the disaster on RaviHyral, though no one had actually bothered with adding malpractice charges or barring me from ever doing medicine again. (Just another side effect of being considered as equipment – I doubted the company would’ve even secured licenses for constructs if not for their paranoia about covering their asses on all fronts.)

But it was a last resort argument, and I knew it.

Mensah knew it, too. “There’s special dispensations for that, especially under the current circumstances, as long as a fully-licensed doctor is in the vicinity at all times. It’s not like any of us can actually get out of each other’s hair in this base anyway.”

Mensah had stopped in a less-chaotic corner and turned to me, not that she could see anything behind the faceplate. I fixed my gaze a generous distance to the left and let my drones do the looking.

“I’m not going to make you agree. You perform a valuable function as our security – far more than I had initially expected, to be honest, and we would all be grateful if you kept doing that. But with Bharadwaj down for the count and Volescu still recovering, we could do with the help.” Her expression was still steady as ever, even though she probably knew better than I did the risks of continuing to operate shorthanded like this. “It’s your decision, SecUnit.”

Right, just the very thing I didn’t need to hear.

I kept most of my sigh internal. “Triage and first-aid only, between patrols. No procedures, and I won’t be responsible if any patients freak out.”

Mensah nodded. “Of course. Gurathin’s on receiving duty today, how about you work out a roster with him?”

I knew it. This was a bad idea.

–––––

You’d be my guardian.

Yes. The education opportunities – most of us were trained on Preservation, if you’re interested in learning and getting your license properly this time. Or not. You can do anything you want.

–––––

ART barged its way into my feed. You’re exhibiting a mildly elevated temperature and respiration rate. Though it could of course merely be a sign of inferior processors rather than emotional distress.

Do you talk to your clients like that?

Do you? ART retorted right back, but obligingly brought up the documentation for its MedSystem before I finished the query for it.

I ignored ART’s attention (with some difficulty) as I flicked quickly through the top few files, taking in the glaring disparities from my existing data. The notable lack of suggesting costly procedures that no-one actually needed, for starters. I’m assuming some of these are your improvements on standard procedure?

I am the cutting edge of medical research, ART proclaimed. You couldn’t accuse it of humility if you tried.

I still wasn’t sure what I wanted, and I still didn’t want anyone to decide it for me. But moving towards the one thing I did want (at least in the short term) had ended up with me running into what was very possibly the most advanced and opinionated diagnosis-treatment AI currently in existence, because that was just the kind of luck I had.

I didn’t have a medium-duty surgical suite in my arms anymore, since that was the entire point of modular Unit construction, but neither did Mensah.

And I didn’t think I wanted to stop doing security, anyway, since it turned out I might not be completely terrible at it; having actual medical knowledge that was MedSystem-malfunction-proof couldn’t hurt.

Plus, overwriting those shitty education modules seemed like a pretty great fuck-you to the company. I was always interested in that.

I tagged some of the more emergency-related files, then added a bunch of the weirder injuries I’d seen on contracts, and prodded ART. Tell me about these?

[mercurryblack]

Chapter 7: Lillian

The team gets ready for their respective dates... or lack thereof.

❃❃❃

“Ugh. We get a night off, and I’m stuck with an essay.”

Though the crime scene investigation had been a drag, in Cait’s opinion, their current situation sucked even more. They hungered for something exciting to happen— hell, a pissed-off Onikuma could crash through their door right then and there, and it would be a pleasant reprieve from the drudgery of a Grimm Studies report. Fighting was always preferable over writing.

Who cared about the variations in Grimm anatomy and physiology based on their habitat, anyway? One looked like an elephant, one looked like a wooly mammoth.

Either way, Cait had set themselves up for a boring night in, and was left silent and grouchy.

“How are you guys planning to spend your day-offs?” Hattie asked the Armilde twins as she slumped back against her pillow. Her small tophat remained firmly on her head, still lopsided.

Silently, Cait tried and failed to recount the last time they’d ever seen her without it.

“I have a charity event to go to,” Amaryllis replied, adjusting a clip-on silver earring onto her right earlobe.

“Oooh, that sounds exciting!” Hattie said, sitting up. “Can I come? Can I come?” 

“Sure! More people there means more funds for the cause. Plus, it’s public, so everyone in Mistral’s pretty much automatically invited.” Amaryllis paused, looking at her Scroll. “…You do still have that nice blue dress of yours from the dance, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Hattie replied.

Amaryllis nodded. “You might want to consider throwing that on, since it’s a kinda formal event, but otherwise you’re welcome to tag along.”

“Yay!” Hattie squealed, clapping her hands. “Thank you, Ammy! You going with anyone else?”

“Hector Wulfric. The event’s organized by his family, actually.” Amaryllis answered. A smile crept onto her face while she planned how she was going to spend the evening with her boyfriend. 

“Oh.” Hattie said, immediately deflating. “In that case, never mind. I don’t wanna play third wheel.” She took a seat again on the end of her bed. “How about Lilly? What’s she gonna do tonight?”

Lillian wasn’t there to answer. She’d been in the bathroom for a good half hour, brushing her teeth to a complete and almost blinding white.

“She’s going on a date with… what was it, sweet guns? No, wait, she called her tha— Oh, I remember. Sweet buns.” Amaryllis recounted, barely stifling a giggle.

“Who now? Is she that same girl Lillian mentioned yesterday?” Hattie asked in the same moment as Lillian emerged from the bathroom.

“Hush, you.” Lillian said, having overheard them. “For the millionth time, Am, her name is Rosario— and yes, Hattie, she’s the same one I mentioned last night.” She explained.

“Remind me how it went, again? Was it, ‘I got a couple of “sweet buns” right here, and they’ve already got your name on ‘em.’” Amaryllis put her hands firmly on her rear and swung her butt in a circle. She wiggled repetitively, mocking a tease she had observed from Rosario.

Lillian turned to give Amaryllis an especially evil glare. “You know what, Am? You’re a pain in my ass.”

“Yeah, okay.” Amaryllis adopted a placating tone, though the mischievous glint in her eye remained. “But am I a pain in your sweet bu—?” She began, continuing her gluteal choreography.

With a snarl, Lillian grabbed one of Amaryllis’ good leather boots from the floor and hurled it at her sister. It collided with the top of the redhead’s cranium, and she let out a strangled yelp.

“Ow, ow, ow...” Rubbing the top of her head, Amaryllis snapped back, “I swear to god, Lilly, if you messed up my hair…”

Hattie giggled in the background, though she lacked context on exactly what Amaryllis was making fun about— something about sweet buns, but that was all she could make out. Her stomach growled at the thought of the tasty pastry.

“Okay, okay, it’s time to stop. Both of you had your laughs.” Lillian said, as she grabbed her drawstring bag and threw it over her shoulder. “And sorry, Hattie, but I got no extra room tonight. As roaringly as I think you two would get along, I think it’s about time I spend some alone time with my girlfriend.” She coughed.

“Mmm.” Hattie mumbled in response. Though downtrodden by the absence of her teammates for the night, she knew that it was neither of their responsibilities to take her along with them— after all, they still had their private lives. “…Lillian?”

“Yes?” Lillian asked, straightening her cropped hoodie around her midriff.

“Your girlfriend’s the same one with the pastry shop, isn’t she?” Hattie asked.

“Same one.”

Hattie puffed her lips out. “Will you bring back some pastries when you’re done with your date, pleeeease?”

“Sure, I think that could be arranged.” Lillian laughed. “Okay, I should be on my way by now— I don’t want to keep Rosa waiting.”

Amaryllis “I’m going as well— I’ve still got to pick up my dress.” She turned to Hattie and Cait for a moment. “Oh, and you two eat some dinner later, okay? Hattie, if you really have nothing else to do, it’d be really nice of you to help Cait finish their paper. Afterward, maybe you two can come down to the charity ball.” She said invitingly.

Hattie’s eyes lit up again. “Hey, maybe we could! What do you think, Cait?”

Cait didn’t make any effort to face the twins, instead opting to wave a hand to them while facing the window. “Yeah.” They replied listlessly.

“…Okay then. We’ll see you later.” With that, Lillian and Amaryllis turned and exited the dorm room.

***

As Amaryllis and Lillian walked through Haven’s low-lit and empty dormitory halls, they continued to talk about each other’s plans for the evening.

“So... where are you taking Rosario?” Amaryllis inquired in an innocent tone.

“We’re heading down to the cliffs. I heard there are some nice spots over there for a late picnic.” Lillian answered flatly, looking straight ahead without breaking her stride.

“Cliffs. How very romantic.” Amaryllis drawled.

“Yeah, yeah. How about you and Hector, got anything hot and heavy planned for tonight? I heard something about you picking up a dress. I smell something fishy here.” Lillian turned to face Amaryllis, wiggling an eyebrow.

“Ew, don’t even go there. This outfit is for tonight’s event, and tonight’s event only. I’ll change clothes after I go to the salon to get my hair and face done up, and I gotta hit that first since it’s already getting pretty late.” Amaryllis hesitated. “And as far as I know, the only thing that’ll be getting hot tonight is my face from nervousness. Hector said his dad’s going to be there, and he wants me to meet him.”

“Heh. I know the feeling.” Lillian chuckled.

She knew full well that her sister had never met Hector’s family before— both her and the Wulfric lad had seemed secretive about the whole relationship, though they had been dating for well over a year by now. She also was versed in the experience of having to meet a special someone’s family for the first time, and a sweaty face didn’t even start to describe it.

Honestly, it felt more like a jolt of terror up the spine, followed by the sensation of one’s stomach falling right into their feet.

“Don’t worry, Am. They’ll love you.” Lillian reassured her sister. Smirking, she continued, “Just don’t tell them that the reason their beloved son is head-over-heels for you is because of those lumps of fat glued to the front of your ribcage.”

Amaryllis flushed red, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, shut up. I’ll have you know that Hector loves all the fat in my body, regardless of its exact location.”

“Yeah?” Lillian retorted. “Tell that to the two loves of his life: peanut butter and jelly.” She teased as she pointed her thumb at Amaryllis’ chest. “…Or was it butter, and I can’t believe it’s not butter?”

“Please. His nicknames for my breasts are much more creative than that.” Amaryllis countered.

A pause.

“So you admit that he has nicknames for them, huh?”

Blushing a brighter shade of red, Amaryllis huffed and walked as fast as she could, overtaking Lillian. She was becoming increasingly annoyed with her sister, not because of what she was saying, but because she had no good retorts up her sleeve to retaliate with.

“Bye, sis. Have fun with your boob fetishist of a boyfriend.” Lillian waved, a guileless smirk plastered on her face.

“You have a nice date too… sweet buns fetishist!” For one last time, Amaryllis turned around to face Lillian and performed the corresponding taunt.

Turning around, she nearly walked right into a green-haired, pink-eyed girl with a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth, who had obviously been witness to her previous action. Unmoving, she apparently appeared to still be processing it.

After a moment’s pause, the girl blinked, snorted a small laugh and grinned. “Yeah, Sweet buns, all right.” She cracked, holding the toothbrush out of her mouth to speak.

Hiding her face with her arm from embarrassment, Amaryllis ran past the girl and out the entrance of the dormitory. Lillian and the girl watched with amusement as she fled.

“Hey.” The girl said, turning back to face Lillian.

“Hey.” Lillian replied, sparing a second’s eye contact as she walked past. She vaguely recognized her as one of the first-years.

With that brief acknowledgement, they both continued on their separate ways, in opposite directions along the hall.

[magicofthepen]

i am Extremely interested in the titles of every single one of your wips but i am actually begging you for details on 'Veega my beloved' because she is also my beloved <3 (🤝 our unity bullshit ❤❤)

Send me a WIP doc title (list here) and I’ll talk about it!

I’ve had “something Leela/Veega” on my fic idea list since Time War 3 came out....but it’s your fault that this fic has skyrocketed to the top of my priorities now, thank you so much for jumping into this sandbox with me <33

Initially I wasn’t sure whose pov I wanted to write from – we know Leela, we know her baggage going into this world and this relationship, and exploring all those internal emotions could be really interesting? But at the same time we don’t know Veega very well and so *insert “It’s Free Real Estate” gif*

So the project evolved from “something Leela/Veega” to “Veega character study” because I realized if I was writing from her pov, I wanted/needed to know what baggage she’s carrying when she meets Leela, and that means this fic has to be about her life and her backstory. 

I keep thinking about Unity as the end-of-the-line, a place people end up when they have nowhere else to go (I feel like there’s actually a quote about this but I can’t find it right now so it’s possible I made that up?) So I see Veega’s backstory as one of running, of losing one home and building another and losing that one too. There’s tragedy throughout her life, but she keeps choosing to create a home as much as she can wherever she is, and keeps choosing to love even in this universe that’s tearing itself apart. 

And since Veega’s father was a soldier who died in battle (and she references the battle by name when she’s talking to Romana, as if Romana would have heard of it), I see her story as one of running from the Time War specifically – sometimes she’s ahead of it, sometimes it catches up to her and tears at her world.

The fic is going to be structured around that idea of loss and rebuilding – I’ve kind of split it up in my head into the different families she builds throughout her life? So starting off with the family she was born into – her parents, I’ve invented a younger sibling – and seeing where she grew up and what that world and that family was like (I’m thinking maybe she originally grew up on a farm, and so there’s a ‘coming full circle’ narrative with the farm on Unity, and also she’d have certain skills and memories to lean on when she’s starting the farm on Unity later in life?). And then how that world falls apart – the death of her father and something that forces her family to run/scatter in some way (still working on this bit).

For her second family (when she’s a young adult), I have vague ideas for this group of twentysomethings all on their own who become close friends as they’re all thrown into the same work environment or running in the same direction together.....again, a lot of the details of this fic are still tbd. But I think this part is likely to be quite spaceship-based? It’ll depend on what I decide for how she got separated from her mother and sibling and what kind of work she gets involved with (Veega’s work experience/background is something I’m still thinking about).....but if the first part and next part of the fic are very grounded on a particular planet, I like the idea of telling a story here about her finding a home while hopping from place to place – there's never the same ground under her feet, but there are the people she loves around her.

And then we hit Things Get Bad, Round 2. Also very nebulous right now? In general, I don’t want to just kill of or have her get separated from everyone she’s ever loved throughout her life, but she is definitely quite alone by the time she meets Leela so.....yeah it can’t really be a happy backstory?

But I think Rayo’s father is going to be one of the people in that friend group, so there’s some continuity-of-family there? And I can get into the backstory of that relationship, and then how they eventually ended up alone together on Unity. And this is the third family – the two of them setting up this life on the farm, and Veega getting pregnant, and them preparing for this kid who they’re so ready to love and do everything they can to shield from the war.

And then, not long after Rayo is born.....yeah. (This fic really is just me continually ripping the ground out from under Veega’s feet unfortunately, but also that cycle of loss is what I want to explore – particularly because it parallels how Leela keeps losing one home and finding another one, so by the time they meet they’ve both loved and lost so much - but they still choose to love again.)

So Rayo’s father dies, Veega’s alone with baby Rayo on the farm, things are very rough.....and then Leela shows up, injured and alone, running from the city and the slavers she recently escaped from. And I’m going to spend quite a bit of time on this family (of course). The early days: Veega taking Leela in and taking care of her, Leela protecting her and Rayo (if Leela’s way of dealing with grief is throwing herself into a fight, Veega’s is throwing herself into caring for others). Them learning to communicate (bc language barrier – I could handwave it and say the Trell, who must have given Leela the ability to speak the language on that planet in Mother Tongue, left her with that ability – but I want to try exploring the idea of not having a translator?). And the eventual shock of learning that Leela’s from Gallifrey, and processing that (honestly I could write a whole fic just on that, so I’ll probably just touch on it here?). Growing into being a family, falling in love (and I know it’s from Veega’s pov, but I’ll have to at least indirectly touch on Leela’s motherhood-related trauma and initial wariness around Rayo because of it, and Leela’s complicated emotions towards Romana and Narvin and how there isn’t any closure there so it’s hard to let go?)

One thing I haven’t completely decided is the exact relationship backstory I’m going with for Leela and Romana and Narvin in this fic – it’s not something the fic will get into too much, but I’d like to know in my head? But there is a good chance I’ll end up making this fic What We Choose compliant. I want my post-Time War fic to be a WWC ‘verse fic and I want to get into Leela’s grief for Veega in that fic, so it is all nice and convenient if all the fics can co-exist in the same universe, even if the Veega fic won’t formally be part of that series? And I like the idea of there being an overtly romantic backstory there, because then I can explore how not ever ending things with or being able to talk with Romana and Narvin affects Leela re: getting into a relationship with Veega.

I would actually want to explore a different relationship backstory for those three for the Everyone Escapes Unity AU.....but that’s not an active project/as likely to actually get written, so I probably won’t let that factor into things. 

And back from that tangent: so eventually, we once again hit the Things Go Wrong times – the raids keep getting worse and worse. The shadow of the Time War is looming.

Veega gets sick.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted this fic to go right up until her death but I think it will – because I want to touch on Romana and Narvin showing up, and how Veega resents them for crashing into her life but also is glad that they’re hear because maybe Leela will have people to lean on after Veega is gone. Maybe, if they get the TARDIS, Leela and Rayo can run when they need to and continue to keep away from the war as long as they can.

Stylistically, this fic’s gonna be along the lines of knock the ice from my bones or leaned in and let it hurt, with shorter scenes spanning a (in this case very) long range of time. It’s in vague outline stage right now – I’ve got this general structure, but I’m in the process of figuring out what scenes I actually want and making actual proper backstory decisions. It has the potential to end up quite long, but I also don’t want to go overboard – there’s a lot of coloring in the lines I could do in future fics, this one is meant to sort of sketch an outline of her life? So I want to make sure I’m being selective with how many and which scenes I’m including, and if they’re each contributing to the thematic through-lines.

So this fic is gonna take a little while, but most definitely watch this space :)

[nothingeverlost]

Donut (Penny for Your Thoughts verse, Rumbelle)

@halfwayinlight I thought I would have this up for Christmas.  Sorry it’s a tad late.

It’s a quarantine Christmas vacation

II

“I’ll see you after the new year.”  David gave her a hug before he left the office, catching the elevator with Graham and Emma.  They were all headed for his house, where Emma would pick up her son.

“Give Mary Margaret and Neal my love, and tell her that when she gets tired of you there’s always an empty room above our garage,” she teased.  Though it was a joke she would miss him.  They’d been sharing Archie’s apartment for months now, and though they both longed for their families it had been an interesting bonding experience, bringing them even closer.

Belle only lingered a few minutes extra in the office, leaving a few surprises in Ariel’s desk for her to find.  While the rest of the team was taking the month of December off, to spend time with their quarantined families, Ariel had volunteered to liaise with the team temporarily taking their place.  Belle was pretty certain the decision had been at least influenced by the agent in charge of the team, Eric del Mar.  The first time they’d met in the cafeteria Ariel had been so flustered she’d accidentally stolen a fork.  She still kept it in her desk, jokingly calling it her lucky dinglehopper.

With one last look around to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything - a month was a long time to be away from work - Belle headed for the elevator and punched the button to take her up to the lobby.  Her bags were in the back of the car; it was the first time since September she’d been home.  Not being there for Thanksgiving had been hard, but knowing she would get the whole month for Christmas had made up for it.

Archie’s car was in the carport, leaving her spot in the garage free.  Belle hoped he’d only moved out of her space recently; it was silly not to use it when she was gone, not that Archie would be driving much.  The sound of the garage door meant she couldn’t hope to surprise anyone, but it didn’t matter when the door opened and Claire raced out to greet her.

“Mommy.”  She was barely out of the car when her daughter jumped the last few feet, certain that she would be caught.  Belle scooped her up, hugging her tight.  She needed a million hours of cuddles to make up for missed time.  “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby.”  

“You can’t go in the kitchen ‘cause it’s a surprise, but papa said that if you’re hungry I should show you the cuter board in the living room.  Uncle Archie let me help with the crackers and the grapes but not with the cheese ‘cause the knife is sharp.”  When she put Claire down her daughter still stayed close.

“I think papa probably said it was a charcuterie board, but I like yours better.”  She had to guess that it was Archie’s influence more than Gabe’s, unless he had somehow discovered pinterest and been way more bored then he let on.  “Where is your papa sweetheart?”

“He had to take Donut outside so she could go potty.”

“I don’t think I understand.”  She tried to puzzle out what Claire might mean about taking a donut outside.  None of her toys, to Belle’s knowledge, were named donut.

“You will.”  Bay chuckled as he came out of the kitchen, a towel tucked into his pants.  He probably hadn’t grown at all in the past couple of months, she just wasn’t used to thinking of him as being that tall.  When he hugged her her head fit neatly under his chin.  “Welcome home.”

“I’m so glad to see you sweetheart.  Thank you for all the videos, they brighten my day.”  Bay had introduced the whole family to Tiktok, setting everyone up with private accounts.  The rest of the team now had accounts, and shared videos, but Bay and Henry were responsible for most of the sharing.  She was grateful for the multiple one minute videos she saw each day, and often rewatched, though Claire’s fascination with the fireplace had given her more than one moment of concern.

“Of course the damn dog would decide it needed to go out the moment you arrive home.”  The back door slammed, letting in a cold breeze, her husband, and a dog.  It was an odd looking thing that could only be classified as a mutt, with a reddish brown head that looked vaguely like a retriever and a body in gray and white that looked like it should belong to another dog entirely.

“Donut?” she guessed.  Her attention only lingered on the dog for a moment.  She was much more interested in the man crossing the room towards her.  Almost three month since she’d been able to touch Gabe was almost criminal in her opinion.  Someone should be arrested

“I can think of some names that would be more appropriate for the mutt but your daughter insisted.”  She couldn’t answer, not with Gabe’s lips on hers and his hands at her waist.  God she’d missed the taste of him.  And the feel.  And the smell.

“They’re kissing already,” she could hear Claire whisper loudly.  “Do they have to take a really big breath like when you some swimming under water?”

“Something like that,” she could hear Bay reply with a chuckle.

“Hugs are better,” her daughter declared.  Belle had to laugh at that, when the kiss ended.  

“I like hugs too, sweetheart.”  Gabe was wearing one of the sweaters they had picked up on their trip to Ireland last year, and the wool was soft against her skin.  She wouldn’t mind standing just where she was for a while.

“Especially when less clothing is involved,” Gabe whispered in her ear.  Bell elbowed him lightly in the ribs.  That wasn’t fair; it would be hours before they could have that kind of alone time.  

“So is anyone going to tell me about this new addition to the family?”  No one had mentioned a dog on any of their calls, which were at least once a day.

“She was sleeping in Claire’s playhouse a few weeks ago.  We made calls but no one seemed to be looking for her.  The vet gave her a clean bill of health and a little snip snip so it looks like we are pet owners now.”  Gabe groused, but couldn’t hide a smile when he looked down at his daughter gently petting the dog and whispering confidences in her ear.  “She certainly is more comfortable sleeping on Claire’s bed.”

“I thought we should call her Goldilocks since she was in someone else’s house.  Archie voted on Snow White for the same reason.  But the short one had the final say so she’s Donut.”  Bay shrugged.  “I’m going to go check on things.”

“Things?” Belle asked as he headed for the kitchen, where she wasn’t allowed to go according to Claire.  She assumed that he was helping with dinner; Archie had mentioned something about cooking lessons with Bay which was good, since Archie knew more about cooking than Gabe by quite a bit.

“Dinner, obviously, but I promised not to spoil the surprise by sharing the menu.”  He tugged her towards the sofas, where the ‘cuter’ board was laid out on the coffee table along with an open bottle of Bordeaux.  Belle sat on the sofa next to him but turned so her legs were across his lap.

“So you decided that a six year old, a college sophomore, and a full time roommate with his six computers wasn’t interesting enough, you added a dog to the mix?”  She and Gabe were both relieved that Bay’s college was still doing online classes, and Archie being around made sense both for Archie not being alone and for help around the house, but it was a full house especially when both kids were home schooling, Archie was working from home and Gabe was working on a new book.  

“It was snowing.”  Gabe was full of bluster, but Belle knew that he’d been thinking about getting a dog anyway.  In fact she was a little surprised it had taken so long, except that they had talked about waiting until Claire was old enough to have some of the responsibility.  Gabe loved on every dog they saw at a crime scene.  “She’s gentle with Claire.”

“You’re a marshmallow, Gabe Gold.”  She kissed him on the cheek.  “I am confused by the name, though.”

“It’s your fault, actually.  You know how she loves stories about when you were pregnant, and how much you loved eclairs.”

“I always love eclairs, I just loved them a little more then.”  And Gabe, bless him, had indulged her with early morning drives to the bakery, late night drives to the grocery store, and at least a few times special flavors overnighted from out of state bakeries.

“Most people would call it an obsession, sweetheart.”  There were no eclairs on the charcuterie board, of course, but he did hand her a cracker topped with brie and raspberry habanero jelly.  “You know how she likes to say that she is mommy’s favorite eclair.”

“She is my favorite.”  It had been a joke at first, calling her baby a little eclair.  She and Gabe had spent months debating baby names; sadly between the two of them there were many names that reminded them of cases they had worked and people they did not want sharing a name with their baby.  It was a nurse who had misheard eclair and thought she was saying Claire, and the name had worked.  She and Gabe both loved it.

“Claire reasoned that her favorite treat from the bakery is jelly donuts.  Like mother, like daughter.”

“You can’t fault her logic.”  Belle laughed, even more amused now that she understood the name.  “I’ve heard worse names for a dog.”

“Bay says dinner in five.”  Claire appeared a moment later, dog at her side.  Belle scooped her up, holding her on her lap.  It didn’t get much better than holding her little girl while cuddling with her husband.  

“Good, because I’m very hungry.”

“I’m very hungry too, and Uncle Archie made…”  Belle quickly put a finger to her daughter’s lips.

“Let’s let Bay and Archie have their secret for a little longer.  They wanted dinner to be a surprise, remember?”  

“I forgotted.  I won’t say anything, okay?  Papa says secrets are good sometimes like when Bay says something is a secret or when there’s presents under the tree.  But sometimes secrets make you feel bad in your tummy and then you have to tell mommy or papa.”  Claire nodded her head wisely, explaining back what had been explained to her.

“Papa’s right, sweetheart.  You should always tell mommy of papa if someone wants you to keep a bad secret.”  She hated thinking about anyone like that near her daughter, but she and Gabe knew too much about the kind of people that manipulated children.  They’d talked a lot about how to keep their kids safe.  “But this is a very good secret. Bay and Archie are making yummy food.  And we know it must be yummy because they’re not letting your papa in the kitchen at all.”

“Hey, I can cook,” Gabe protested, though not with much vigor.

“You cook more than you did when I first met you, though that’s not saying a lot considering I think you spent at least five years using nothing more than the microwave and coffee pot.”  While no one would call him a gourmet he could pull together a meal.  Spaghetti was still his most often made dinner.  Grilled cheese and tomato soup were a close second.

“That might be true but you could still spend tonight on the sofa if you don’t watch yourself.”

“That anxious to spend the night alone again?”  She raised an eyebrow, teasing him back.

“Never again, if I had my way.”  They kissed again, over their daughter’s head, only stopping when Archie coughed politely.

“Dinner’s ready.”  Claire wiggled down first. Belle was slower, but when she stood she gave Archie a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  

“We have so much to catch up on, Arch.  We’re going to eat so much popcorn.”  

“My tivo is full of things to marathon.”  Their online marathon dates hadn’t been the same, and David had no appreciation for corny sci fi.  “It’s been killing me not to watch Star Trek Lower Decks until you got here.”  

“I can’t wait.”  She followed Archie to the dining room, Claire holding her hand and Gabe right behind her.  Bay was waiting next to the table which had been laid out in all the best china.  In the center of the table was a platter of turkey meat.  There was cranberry sauce and corn souffle and mashed potatoes, gravy and rolls, candied yams and green beans.  It was a full Thanksgiving feast.  “Oh!”

“We didn’t want you to miss Thanksgiving.  Facetime Thanksgiving isn’t really the same.”  Bay’s apron was covered in a million questionable stains, but Belle didn’t give a thought to her clothes before hugging him.

“I didn’t tell, Bay.  Not even a little bit,” Claire proudly exclaimed.  Bay picked her up.  

“Of course you didn’t, Plum.”  Bay set her on her chair.  Next to her on the ground was a dog bed and a large bone.  “Before eating remember that this is only possible because Archie taught me so if anything’s wrong it’s his fault.”

“It’s going to be perfect.”  Belle say down between Gabe and Claire, holding both of their hands.  “I am so thankful for all of you.  My family.”

[fwoopersongs]

何必诗债换酒钱 - Notes

Clean version here and thoughts under the cut.

I saw the song translation notes made by @shelterfromrain​ a while back and thought, wow! what a fantastic idea it is to share the results of the rabbit holing (that you inevitably end up engaging in when doing this) and leave a record for your future self while at it too! Currently some of the song and poetry translations on fwoopersongs do have little notes, but those were casually written on the fly and after so long, the thought process behind certain choices often get forgotten, which is such a waste... Long story short - I’m doing it this way from now on!

This song was requested by @peerlesssqq on twitter - which may or may not have bumped it up by like a year on my list (yes, I’ve been sitting on it since 2018 and you’ll see why) - and I had WAY more fun than expected, so 谢啦 ~ It was a delight to receive your DM request. I was happy for days!

Some background: 《何必诗债换酒钱》 is the theme song of 【文定乾坤】- a collection of musical works that feature notable contributors to Chinese literature in ancient times, poets and the like. Oh, and I did notice that the MV on bilibili looks like it could be a promo for a webtoon or game. Who knows? I’ll be checking out the rest of the songs, that’s for sure!

The following part of this post will be my thoughts for first the title, then each section - the intro, verse 1 & 2 and the chorus, ending off with some final comments.

Disclaimer first though (otherwise later you read already then feel like beating me up): Everything in this post is only my interpretation of the song. I have quite limited familiarity with mainland literature and culture, so of course don’t expect much xD Here you’ll only find a story-loving banana who jiak-ed kantang too much in her youth and now regrets it a whole lot. 说好了哈 I’m pants at analysis, worse at Chinese, and am not at all good with words ok?

Title

So《何必诗债换酒钱》, let’s start off with the word here that’s unfamiliar to most of us:

诗债 | shī zhài or a debt of poems/poetry debt is a legit thing! - All you authors and artists out there might be familiar with it - It’s what you call the resulting debt when a poet promises to write something for another person but hasn’t done it yet. Procrastination has apparently always been the curse of content creators.

In fact, in the Bai Juyi’s poem that came up on the 诗债 baidu page《晚春欲携酒寻沉四著作先以六韵寄之》- possibly addressed to a friend he owes - he was complaining of illness, old age and writer’s block. But then oh, he goes on and then I passed by a party where they had drinks, and was quite up to my gills & totally out of it for some time, and THAT’S why I’ve done you dirty and owe you ever so many poems. I don’t really understand the last two lines but apparently he then offers to bring a drink for this person he’s talking to, mentions a wish to meet a winter goddess (????? pretty girl? or the snow? idk which), and starts reminiscing the times that were like a precious string of pearls they had singing at Yang Pass. Most likely farewells, but without context I just don’t get it. Anyway bribery and misdirection huh? I see what you did there bro, and I’m sure the person you attempted to distract saw it coming too...

何必 | hé bì, is a rhetorical question of Must you really? In the case of this word, 何 functions as roughly ‘is it that’ and 必 as ‘it must be so’.

换酒钱 | huàn jiǔ qián is of course, exchange for money to purchase wine.

‘Must you really promise poems in exchange for money to buy wine?’ then is the literal translation of 何必诗债换酒钱.

So here is the question: Is alcohol worth a poetry debt? Onwards to the answer!

Intro

生就诗骨 算来三百篇  Born and already a poet to the bones, (with) three hundred works counting up to now. 

浪掷秦淮长安 风流李杜王白  Spending lavishly in Qinhuai and Chang’an, free/unrestrained as Li and Du, Wang and Bai;

余下十分 便随意肩上担  whatever left is divided in ten parts, casually thrown over a shoulder

权作金玉铜板 相谢好人间  and taken for jade, gold and coin, a big thank you to this good world!

I interpreted the 生 in the first line as 天生 i.e. innate, natural born talent, so this first line describes someone born with a gift for poetry with ‘three hundred’ works to their name. Although... that three hundred should not be taken too literally, it’s more likely to be an allusion to collected works like the 16th century anthology of poems, Three Hundred Tang Poems. After all, Li Bai, Du Fu, Wang Wei and Bai Juyi are the most famous Tang Dynasty poets… and they were all name-dropped in the next line!

浪掷 | làng zhì was a new phrase for me, and means something like spending freely and lavishly or willfully wasted. Of course Chang’an was the capital during the Tang Dynasty and it was the world's most populous city at the time. One can only imagine how prosperous it must have been… and what fun things were there to spend your money on! The banks of Qinhuai river and that general area was once a gathering place for noble/wealthy families, scholars looking for a good time (and some say, the red light district xD). Though by Sui/Tang, that area was no longer doing as well due to political shifts. So the mental image I got from 浪掷秦淮长安 is of someone gallivanting through places of interest, from the bustling and prosperous to the dilapidated.

风流 | fēng liú is as always, hard to translate with no full equivalent in english. The feel it gives me ranges from, ‘cool, dashing bloke on a galloping horse with their cloak/robes/hair flowing elegantly in the wind’ to ‘pleasure seeking dandy who totally knows how to enjoy life, all the courtesans know him by courtesy name!’.

The third line started with 余下十分, which will not make any sense - why leftover? Divide what by ten? - until its put in context with the following:

Three hundred poems 算来三百篇 + 权作金玉铜板 pretend they are gold/jade/money (权作 | quán zuò just means to take one thing for another temporarily.)

The load thrown over the shoulder 肩上担

Spendthrift behaviour on tour 浪掷秦淮长安

The TITLE: bro so u wanna promise poetry in exchange for money to drink? why.

Let’s take those precious poems that can be exchanged for gold - a whole bagful of scrolls, and now I’m so rich I can scatter my money down the streets of entertainment districts and the capital! The very image of a 风流 poet, reckless and free spirited.

// Folks, please learn from this silly girl and do not read songs (or poems) line by line. They need to be appreciated at a distance, not one inch from your eyeballs.

Verse 1

两分与月 劳烦身前打点 Two parts to the moon, (may I) trouble you to take care of me while I’m alive.

哪处巍峨峰峦 当借我悬来观 Wherever there are majestic peaks and ranges, do lend me (your light) to hang and see by.

三分���高楼 好与长风赴宴 Three parts pawned for the tall building, good for attending the banquet alongside the wind,

遍寻可爱星子 唾手一把玩 searching for charming little stars, easily caught to play with.

Now we get to see how the poet is spending his ‘wealth’. This verse is a lot more literal as compared to the introduction, so there’s not much to say.

打点 used here is so interesting! Because it’s what you call bribing someone in a superior position to smoothen your path ahead (so to speak). Thanks to a childhood of tvb drama, I vaguely associate the type of people who would 打点 with rich merchant or minor noble fathers who want to give their sons an easier time at court. Either that or lower ranked officials with less moral scruples. Anyway, what’s being said in the song is something like: here is 20% dear moon, I’ll have to trouble you to bless me for the rest of this lifetime, and also please lend me your light to see by when I have need of it at scenic spots *for art*. The moon is a muse for many poets in all its forms after all… 明月, 圆月, 孤月, 残月, 冷月, 江月, 秋月 and so on.

Actually that whole sentence 劳烦身前打点 is so playful and fun that I put it in quotation marks to emphasize it. We’ve only just begun. Is the speaker already drunk?

And with the third line, 30% has been spent. Just noting here that 典 | diǎn can be read as pawn or mortgage. Another interesting thing to note would be that this imagery of ascending a tall building 高楼 and reaching out for stars 星子 in the last two lines of Verse 1 brings to mind one particular poem, famously attributed to Li Bai. Following translation by yours truly.

《夜宿山寺》- Overnight at the Mountain Temple 危楼高百尺 | dangerously towering a hundred feet high 手可摘星辰 | the stars are within reach 不敢高声语 | one dares not raise their voice 恐惊天上人 | for fear of disturbing the deities

Though the two probably have nothing to do with each other, doesn’t the reverence in the tone of this one bring out the playful irreverence of the other? So. Much. Fun. I adore the whole feel of 遍寻可爱星子 唾手一把玩 SO MUCH.

Verse 2

两分与桥 歇脚南北行船 Two parts to the bridge where travellers on foot and by boat from the north and south can rest,

欣然八方风物 闲话半日茶碗 delighted by the scenery all around, idly chatting half the day away over bowls of tea.

三分典流水 润色枯瘦石山 Three parts for the running water, moistening the gaunt stone mountains

又将天地一展 伸手 试浓淡 and again spreading heaven and earth wide, reaching out to test the viscosity (of the water).

It took a few listens, but in the end I really enjoyed the aesthetics here. And again, this verse is quite straight to the point albeit with two things I cannot understand.

The first point of confusion for me is why the lyricist chose to use 桥 | qiáo, a bridge as the place for people to rest on their journeys. I assumed here that this in reference to a pier or dock, assumed also that he is donating funds for this structure to be built or repaired. However, if that were the case 坞 | wù would have been enough - 船坞 was supposedly invented only in the Song Dynasty though, so maybe that’s why another word was chosen. But it’s not like there is any incidence of 桥 being used to mean ‘dock’ either!

The second thing that confuses me is the use of 典 for 流水. In verse one, that 典 was referring to the poetry works sold to reserve the venue for a banquet. That usage was apt. Here I suspect it might be for parallel structure, because there is no alternative reading for 典 that might allow one to use their 30% 三分 to do anything to flowing water 流水. That’s the literal reading, of course.

If we’re taking this a little less literally, it can be interpreted as borrowing the scenery (figuratively, since the place would not belong to anyone in the way you might own a property) to admire. It also expands on the second line’s mention of the surrounding view 欣然八方风物; there is running water which completes 润色 and brings the appearance of the gaunt and rocky mountains 枯瘦石山 closer to perfection.

润色 | rùn sè means to polish, to bring to greater heights. When you say something has been 润色 it is made more brilliant and closer to perfection by that addition. It can also mean moisten.

We always hear ‘rivers and mountains like a painting’ 江山如画 - originating from Su Dongpo’s《念奴娇·赤壁怀古》- used when the scenery is wonderful, because how often is real life as ideal as what we can imagine and depict? And that is exactly what is described here. The feeling out if the ‘water’ is concentrated or diluted 试浓淡 is used in answer to 一展 unfurling. 浓淡 of ink to 一展 of painting scroll. The land and sky seem like an ink wash painting, so beautiful that the viewer cannot help but reach out to run their hand through the water.

Chorus

Chorus Part 1

若趁游兴直到酣 If we take advantage of our wanderlust and go roaming till it is sated,

千字文章不值钱 classics and essays shan’t be worth a coin.

诗换花 词换雪 A poem for a flower! A song for snow!

再作檄文斗天官 Another denunciation for those heavenly officials!

Starting off with three new terms for me: 游兴 | yóu xìng means enthusiasm for travel. 酣 | hān can mean having a great time drinking, or being very satisfied and satiated. 檄文 | xí wén is a type of official document written for important announcements, declaration of war, or denunciation and condemnation of certain people or actions.

While I still feel this need to go out to see the world, I shall keep on the road until I am satisfied. Who cares about writing, who cares for study, it’s all worthless to me. I do what I want. And what I want is to write a little poem in exchange for a flower, some lyrics for a flake of snow. I’ll even write a denunciation against those officials in heaven (immortals). Fight me!!!!

I point again at Verse 1 with climbing the tower to play with stars. It’s no longer just playing nearby, now he wants a go at the gods.

Among the four parts of the chorus, this one is the simplest for sure. The lines mean exactly what is said. It also feels the most chaotic and mischievous. Is the speaker drunk? Is he high on something? One thing’s for sure. He’s out of money.

Chorus Part 2

何愁不得一样我 Why feel troubled that (I) cannot have another just like me?

知交尽向话中添 for one who understands you and is understood, look entirely towards stories to fill that place

唐解元 嵇中散 people like Tang Bohu (first in provincial examinations) and proud, upright and stubborn Ji Kang

且驰大梦任疯癫 Just chase that great dream, allow yourself to go mad.

I feel like the first two lines are quite straightforward, though they might not appear so on first reading: How could there be a need to feel sad or troubled that I have no like-minded equal. To find a true friend who understands you without need for words, and whom you understand in return, all you need to do is turn to those tales and stories 话中 for people to fill 添 that place.

唐解元 - People like Tang Yin, courtesy name: Bohu 唐寅, 字伯虎 (1470–1524 AD), noted painter, calligrapher and poet of the Ming Dynasty. Tang Yin led a life full of ups and downs that really cannot be covered in a paragraph’s worth of song translation notes. You can check out his wiki page if you’re curious though! There’s a little more on him where I cover the last line of this section. He is addressed as 解元 | jiè yuán here which is the term for the top scorer of the provincial examinations (second stage in the Imperial examination ladder). It is also an honorific for scholars. Tang Bohu is both.

嵇中散 - People like Ji Kang, courtesy name: Shuye 嵇康, 字叔夜, (223–262 AD), one of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove - a group of friends who wisely kept themselves aloof from the dangerous politics of the Court, and devoted themselves to art, refinement and debate, of the Three Kingdoms period. He was a Daoist philosopher, musician, writer and poet.  

An accomplished musician, the qin composition 廣凌散 | guǎnglíng sàn is attributed to Ji Kang, though some versions of the story claim he learned it from a ghost while stopping at a pavillion on his way home. 嵇中散 was one of the names he was known by because of his appointment to the position of Attendant Counsellor, 中散大夫 | zhōng sàn dàfū, a civil official unspecified duties in the court of Cao Wei.

When Ji Kang was sentenced to death for his attempt to testify for a wrongly accused friend, three thousand scholars petitioned for his pardon to no avail. It’s said that at the execution ground, while they waited for the appointed hour, he had his favourite qin brought out and played a brilliant interpretation of Guanglin San that is now forever lost.

Do go read about them both if you have the time!

I would like to point out for the last line that 任 is to allow, to indulge, and it’s just such a heady sensation to say 任疯癫 - indulge in the madness! throw yourself in and don’t look back!

There is an easter egg here too. A nod to a poem by Tang Yin which can be read as his stance on his lifestyle choice after the alleged accusations of bribery in the final step of the Imperial examinations left him disgraced, and unable to pursue a civil career. Thematically the line does not call back to the poem at all, similarities end with the choice of words: chasing the dream 驰大梦 and indulging madness 任疯癫.  I leave an excerpt below. Translation again by me.

《桃花庵歌》- Song of a Plum Blossom Cottage // 若将花酒比车马 | if tawdriness and wine were compared against fine carriage and steed 他得驱驰我得闲 | he would have to drive and work hard for speed whilst I have my idle rest 别人笑我太疯癫 | others mock me for my madness 我笑他人看不穿 | i am amused for they do not perceive 不见五陵豪杰墓 | can’t you see that at the Emperors’ mausoleums and heroes’ graves 无花无酒锄做田 | there are no flowers, no wine, only land ploughed for farming

The second part of the chorus isn’t related to the first, but it has the same theme of showcasing the untamable (unhinged xD) spirit of the speaker. This time, the people he admires ‘intellectual equals’ and kindred spirits are featured, the 任性 feeling here has been pushed to greater heights.

Chorus Part 3

敢夸洒落何须酒 If one dares to boast of carefreeness, why, they hardly need wine.

不煮黄粱也称仙 Even without brewing millet they would still be called Immortal.

镜湖桌 白梅盏 The tables in the mirror-like lake, white plum blossoms in the cups,

等来春风恰开宴 await the spring breeze which arrives just in time for the feast to start!

Li Bai is regarded as both the god of poetry 诗仙 and god of drunkards wine 酒仙 because he wrote some of his greatest poems while drinking. The first two lines seem to be gently poking fun at that. Like hey, if you dare to claim to be all groovy, surely you have no need for alcohol? Just like how an immortal would still be an immortal without wine, your writing talent should not need any stimulants. This would be the time to mention that 黄粱 | huáng liáng is also known as millet, a type of grain that can be used to brew wine.

洒落 | sǎ luò has a few meanings, like shower down or blame, but the relevant one here would be 洒脱 generous, uninhibited and open. For me it feels similar to 风流 in that there is that ‘free, and exhilaratingly unrestrained’ element. 洒落 is in the most positive sense, being always open to having a good time, but without that dissolute or vaguely whirlwind-romance like connotation of 风流.

It feels like the intensity is letting up a little here - this is a light-hearted and frivolous song all the way through, but the words 洒落, 称仙 and imagery of a clear lake, white plum blossoms and the crisp spring breeze are grounding and sweet. Spirited in a different way from before.

Chorus Part 4

四角天地也醺然 The four corners and heaven and earth are also tipsy,

醉极自有桃李搀 when I’ve overindulged, my students will be there to help.

快意只 笔下讨 Gratification can only be claimed from beneath the brush;

何必诗债换酒钱 is falling into poetry debt worth that money for drink?

New words: 醺然 | xūn rán just means drunk. A new word for me though! 桃李 | táo lǐ is literally peach 桃 and plum 李 (李花, also known as 玉梅) flowers, and is a metaphor for students. The term originates from a story in 《韩诗外传》which was set in the Wei Kingdom of the Spring and Autumn period (771 to 476 BCE). There was once a highly ranked official who was sacked from his post and left for the north. He met another gentleman and remarked that the people he helped before did not lift a finger when he was in need. This person replied that, if someone were to plant peach and plum trees in spring, he could relax under their shade in the Summer and taste their fruit in the Autumn. But if that person were to plant weeds, nothing can be done with their leaves in Spring and there would only be burrs to hurt himself on in Autumn. Clearly the people the unfortunate gentlemen had helped before were not worth his effort. Students ought to be carefully selected and carefully cultivated as one would a tree.

Reading the four corners and heaven and earth 四角天地 are also tipsy 也醺然, I imagine the world sort of spinning around the speaker because he is drunk. But that’s okay, because his students (or the trees xD) will be there to support him.

快意 | kuài yì is the feeling of sudden relaxation, and then lightheartedness and joy. In this line, I felt like the intention would be closer to 畅快，爽快 and so chose gratification, because really writing is like scratching an itch isn’t it? Pleasure from satisfaction of a desire. Phrasing it as 笔下讨 is so very fitting though, because 讨 can be interpreted - somewhat contradicting - as either to demand or to beg. What could be more gratifying than having squeezed out the perfect sentence or word under your figurative pen?

So so so after all that, 何必诗债换酒钱? What do you think, is alcohol worth the poetry debt? Is Mr. Poet actually drunk and about to dig himself a deeper hole of owed poems to get even MORE drunk, or has he just been thinking about it all along? :)

Thoughts

This has been such a fun adventure following our madcap big spender from the shining Chang’an to the inviting Qinhuai, shadow of great poets in tow and all. We’ve done everything from talking to the moon and seeing the sights by her light, to boating down a river, dragging fingers through the water. It was sort of like being on a backpacking tour, except with with someone contemplating opening (or perhaps regretting opening this can of worms?) poetry commissions instead of singing in the streets?

Dear reader, if you’ve reached this point of my post, thank you. I hope you enjoy the song as much as I do now!

[clumsyclifford]

For prompt thingy you just posted bc we keep talking about diva!Luke, Lashton with #58

ok yes i know you said diva luke but for some reason no matter how i tried to write this it just ended up with ashton saying it HOWEVER i did write it in the fairytale au ‘verse so ! i hope i didn’t mangle your au thank u

-

Okay. In all honesty, the crystals are fake.

They have real magical crystals, in the back, but those are on request only, because, as Michael and Luke had learned the hard way, some people don’t know how to be responsible with genuine magic items. So they keep the real magical crystals under wraps and in careful storage, and out front all they’ve got are — well, they’re basically glorified rocks. A lot of them are literally glorified rocks. Luke’s in charge of picking decent-looking stones from the ocean floor and glamming them up into something a little prettier. He’s a big fan of pretty things.

Also of pretty people. And pretty werewolves, like Ashton.

Before Ashton, Luke hadn’t even known pretty werewolves existed. He hadn’t really thought a werewolf could be considered pretty. But Ashton is undeniably pretty, in a very scruffy kind of way, and from the moment he steps foot into the magic shop for the first time, roving eyes landing first on the rack of colorful candles and then onto Luke, Luke had been gone.

Since Ashton introduced himself that first day, with a friendly but vaguely wolfish smile that showed only the tips of his canines, Luke has started to look forward to his visits. Not only does he enjoy Ashton’s company and commentary, he also very much appreciates the distraction from annoyingly persistent customers.

“Hey!” Luke cheers, as the chimes over the door twinkle. Ashton enters and meets Luke’s eyes. His face seems to brighten, just seeing Luke. It might just be the lighting in the shop, but Luke blushes anyway. 

“Excuse me,” says the woman standing at the counter. Luke sighs and returns his attention to the customer. “I’m asking if I can see the real crystals!”

“Ma’am, if I’ve told you once I’ve told you a hundred times,” he says impatiently. “The real crystals are for magic-users only.”

“And if I’ve told you once or a hundred times, I am a magic user!”

“Tarot reading unfortunately doesn’t fall under the magic umbrella necessary to access the crystals. I’m sorry.” As if they haven’t had this exact fucking conversation before. Ashton makes an apologetic face, and while the woman rummages around in her bag, Luke mouths save me! Ashton frowns, then walks behind one of the shelves towards the back. Luke stares after him. If Ashton’s planning to help, he won’t do much good in the crystal ball section. Unless he intends to knock them all down, in which case Luke will kick his ass.

“You know,” the woman says, throwing her tarot deck onto the counter, “I saw this conversation happening. In the cards. And do you know what I drew when I asked how you would respond? Death.”

Luke resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he says, even though the death card doesn’t mean what this lady obviously thinks it means. Suddenly, there’s a dull thud, and Luke hears Ashton exclaim, “Oh, my ankle! I think it must be broken! Can somebody help me?”

Thank fuck, Luke thinks, and gives the woman his best apologetic smile. “So sorry, ma’am, this is an emergency.” He races around the counter towards where Ashton is. Hidden from view by the shelf, he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking very pleased with himself.

“Pretend you’re actually injured, you idiot,” Luke whispers. Ashton grimaces.

“Ow! I’m in so much pain! I need to get home, stat.”

“I’ll help you,” Luke says loudly, putting an arm around Ashton and helping to heave him towards the door. “Michael! I’m taking this injured customer to the emergency room! Or, um, something like that.”

“You’re what?” comes Michael’s shouted reply, but the tarot woman is giving Luke suspicious looks, so Luke can’t really respond. 

“Sorry,” he tells her. “Come back another time?” Or don’t. That’d be good, if you didn’t. He hauls Ashton, who’s making halfhearted howling noises, through the door, and pretends to help him until they’re out of sight of anyone inside the magic shop.

“You’re the worst liar ever,” Luke complains once they’re out of the woods.

Ashton makes an offended noise. “I did you a favor!”

“Michael’s gonna be mad at me.” Luke shrugs. “Oh well.”

“That lady was annoying, though,” Ashton says, shuddering. “I’m so glad I don’t work in retail.”

Luke huffs. “Shut up.”

“So now that you’re free, where are we going?” Ashton asks. 

Luke’s feet have already started instinctively taking him home, so he says, “Feel like going swimming?”

“You’re such a one-trick pony,” Ashton says, although he’s smiling.

“I’ll find you a sand dollar,” Luke promises. The first time he’d given Ashton a sand dollar he’d worried Ashton would find it silly or trivial, but Ashton’s grin had gotten so wide Luke thought it would split his face open, and he’d loudly proclaimed the gift to be his favorite he’d ever received. Somehow, though Luke really kind of is a one-trick pony, Ashton’s enthusiasm hasn’t waned. “Or a pearl, maybe.”

Ashton sucks in a delighted breath. “You can find those?”

If he can’t find them, he can probably make them, but Ashton doesn’t need to know that. “Yeah,” he says. “This may surprise you, but I’m pretty good at navigating the sea.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Ashton says as they reach the water’s edge. This close to home, Luke can feel the pull, the very gentle lilt of the waves lapping at the shore mixed with the sun glancing off the water. It’s music, all of it. Luke doesn’t think Ashton hears it, but Ashton has a sort of reverence on his face anyway, and somehow, that makes Luke like him more.

(Not that Luke needs to like him more.)

He dives smoothly into the water and shakes the magic off his legs until all that’s left is his tail, and then he swishes it a couple times to get the feeling back. This transition is always kind of weird, but Luke’s gotten much better at it.

“Are you coming in?” he asks.

Ashton hums lowly. “Do you want me to come in?”

Luke turns pink. “Um. I don’t, like…I don’t want to force you or anything. Obviously. I know it’s — swimming comes easier to me, like, of course, so — but if you want to? Yes? Sure?”

Ashton chuckles. “That was a really long-winded way of saying yes,” he says, toeing off his shoes and cuffing his jeans. “Some siren you are.”

“I’m not a siren,” Luke protests.

“Yeah, I can see why.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t worry,” Ashton says reassuringly, and before Luke can react he jumps into the water, splashing Luke and everything around him. When he surfaces, he says, “You still charm me.”

Luke feels warm despite the cold of the water, and doesn’t stop smiling even when Ashton splashes him.

[faejilly]

I was tagged by @la-muerta​ & @facialteeth​ & @thedivinemissema​ for the WIP/Title Game

rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and interests you and i’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!

AND THEN  by @shadoedseptmbr​ @msviolacea​ & @ravenclawnerd​ for the “stories you want to write... but for some reason haven’t yet”

so this will be a mish-mash of both? The WIPs will mostly have blurbs in this case (to fit the second meme) but you are still welcome to ask follow-up questions, if you’d like ;) Assuming you make it through the list, it is uh. Not Short.

Anyone who would like to play with their WIPs, please consider yourself tagged in either or both of these. :D

Misc Fic Folder:

“untitled document” - where I’m working on fictober fills so I have word-counts for my GYWO tracker. I am not working on these because Brains Are Dumb and also Going Back To Work Is Exhausting

I made a file called “YULETIDE!” which has nothing in it but I’m determined to finish this year so that is definitely technically a thing in the Unending WIP List of Doom worth mentioning. (Tho obviously that’s all I could say even if I had started, because anonymous.)

“coda-fics, rewatch!” -yes, that exclamation mark is important! it’s to keep me motivated! (it didn’t work). Much like untitled, this is for putting stuff so I can do word count tracking even if I don’t know what I’m doing. Currently I think it just says “MARYSE” because I was working on my SH 1x6 coda-fic and then got distracted and haven’t typed anything up yet. (Yay notebooks? Boo notebooks? Not even sure at this point.)

WNIP (works not in progress) Folder:

“TOG” - I had one vivid mental image of how Nicky & Joe met (blood-stained evil smiles?) but then no idea for a follow-up story and also the fandom is insane and I’m not sure I want to deal with all of *gestures vaguely* all that

“Shan Xia Notes” -for a TTRPG that never quite got off the ground; she was a semi-tragic selkie who was still in love with the evil queen/lady who stole her skin and I got to play her for like one session and she was surprisingly chaotic neutral, which wasn’t at all what I’d been expecting. But the game never really got off the ground, so I never had enough info to really delve into writing backstory fic

“post-Kruschev” -Kruschev’s List was the last episode of Scarecrow & Mrs King, and I was debating writing an epilogue in place of the s5 we never got, to try and tie up some loose ends, but the fandom’s three old-ladies in trench coats and I never quite worked up the gumption to get it anywhere

“Code Realize warm as silk sequel” -there is literally nothing in this file except “SEX! Only a little angst” because I wanted to write some “we can’t actually touch each other” smut but never actually did. 🤷‍♀️

BioWare (also all Not-In-Progress Anymore)

“seb/adelaide”, “Theia” & “DAI Erana” -these WIP folders were cannibalized for ficlets for the last few times I did fictober, and while originally I had ideas for longer epilogues for all three of them, at this point I don’t think any of the remaining bits could support a story any longer.

”whispers in the dark” -Maia Ryder never really got much fic at all; the cancellation of any further Andromeda stuff was really disheartening, and at this point I’d have to play the game again, and I don’t think I’m gonna manage that any time soon

”TSP” -a Mass Effect 3 Shepard AU collab project that kind of went off the rails, and our mutual brains/lives never quite seem to line up so we can try and rebuild it ”Ngaio & Tane” -my one truly ruthless Shepard (Alliance background, who romanced Traynor) whose father Tane Shepard was, I think, in PsyOps, and I wanted to figure out their complicated relationship but never really did know where I was going with it

”JE Zu & Yaling” -so I’ve rambled about my Tragic Sagacious Zu Romance Thoughts regarding Jade Empire more than once (#Icy Yaling should have most of it) but apparently I want to yell about it more than I want to actually write it? Whoops.

”CI sequel: 5 times fic?” -Cruel Intentions is a kinkmeme fill that I started and then it sat for like five years before I actually finished it, and I liked the ending, but it does leave a giant fucking question mark in terms of how those people got from there to where they are after the game, and I kind of wanted to write a proper h/c fic rather than just... leaving them wallowing in all that trauma?

But I didn’t. I don’t even remember for sure how I wanted to frame the 5/1 of it all, besides it being something sad about allowing people to see you or touch you in some way. (Prayers maybe, since I think there was definitely some Sebastian & Fenris & faith stuff going on in there.)

“candles” -Merribela prompt fill that I never was happy with? Not sure what I might do with it at this point, so it’s just sitting there all sad and lonely and neglected-like.

Shadowhunters

pt1: WIP LIST ONLY

“Persuasion” -so I keep trying to write Persuasion AUs in many fandoms because it’s my favorite Austen, but I think I like it too much, I have no real solid concept of how I’d transform it, and if I don’t have anything else to say about different characters within that framework, I have no push to actually write anything? Also this SH version of it suffered from MASSIVE scope creep when I started outlining and it got too big for me to handle so I like, killed it twice? Whoops. This one is really probably never gonna happen.

“oosdt sequel” -I wanted to write more about the Forest That Eats People and Magnus & Alec as Guardians Between Worlds, and also some background Magnus’ Found Family & Lightwood Family Feels (maybe some clizzy?) and I left a Madzie plot-thread dangling from the first one on purpose even but I think this one had too many ideas and not enough focus so it’s sort of sprawling all over a doc with a lot of “???” in it

“procedural-ish” -this was originally going to be a sex-farce. and then it turned more serious. and then maybe kind of copaganda which was uncomfortable in terms of the Everything That Is The News in 2020, and then maybe it was more a Mafia AU and at that point I had self-inflicted tone whiplash and I wished the voices in my head were a little more forthcoming about their plans so I stopped before I brained myself on my computer monitor in frustration.

“I had rather a rose than live forever” -I started a reverse!verse Malec (Shadowhunter!Magnus, High Warlock!Alec) for bingo last year, and I couldn’t quite get it together in time, so I made a moodboard inspired by the bits I’d started instead. I may see if one of my prompts from Bingo this year help me finish it?

“fall fright fest (practical magic  au)” -exactly what it says on the tin! almost exactly a year old & neglected! IDEK ANYMORE (I talked about this one with the WIP meme last time tho: here)

“priest!kink theology?” -I thought it was gonna be smut? I like priest!kink. I have made other people like it and yell at me even! But then I kept diverging into demon!Magnus thinking about Priest!Alec’s faith and as usual, IDEK ANYMORE *laughs*

(If they’re remotely canon-adjacent or divergent, a bunch of these are in here because I need to rewatch the show to get the pacing/timing/tone right and I haven’t, and I don’t know why, because I enjoy the show, but BRAINS! Are Dumb! So I guess that’s it?)

“I do” -I have tried to write this damnable Malec arranged marriage fic like six different times. I have signed up for fic exchanges and bangs with it, I have rewritten massive sections, trying to change tone or structure or POV or whatever, and it basically comes down to they like each other too fast and I keep not gutting it enough to get back to a useful pace, but by the time I realized that I was on take six and kind of sick of it. I may get back to it eventually

“wing!fic” -canon divergent in early s1, trying to deal with the consequences of Simon’s kidnapping as the Truly Serious Event that it should have been. It uh. Got heavier than I expected with those consequences (considering it was originally just supposed to be Alec’s wings flirting with Magnus) and also see above re: rewatching for pacing.

“2x20 aftermath/date night/pandemonium porn“ -yes that is the actual wip title. It used to be “spite fic” because I was originally inspired by fighting against a lot of fic!Alec characterization that was clearly based more on the books and ATG syndrome than the Alec in the show, which is the Alec I know and like and want to read about. BUT, pacing and etc. again, I think. Also I have somehow entirely lost my knack for writing porn, which makes it difficult to finish something originally intended to be smut!fic. Or even teasing almost!smut.

“rubbish heap” -so this is about three different fics that I realized complemented each other really well so they’re now all in the same file as I try to turn them into the sequel of “with an if in its soul”. It includes amnesia, parabatai lore shenanigans, a s3 rewrite, and some truly awful Owl adjustments that make me wince in horrified authorly delight and pain. BUT, as with the other ones in this file, the scope is large and I normally write short-fic and I kind of just threw up my hands in exasperation. I may have to break it back up into the three different fics instead, if I ever actually want to write it. Them? But also I need to take better notes on s3 to make sure I have what I need in here.

SH Pt 2: Started posting or not yet in hiatus because it’s actually almost ready to be a thing in the real world! maybe!?

“kisses (firsts)” -I actually started publishing this one, a “series of firsts” that was supposed to be kind of relationship milestones and kind of an excuse for smut, and then there wasn’t that much smut and I lost momentum and also dear lords & ladies the timeline is stupid, wtf. I may not ever add to this one, tbqh. It doesn’t stop in a terrible place, and they’re all ficlets so they stand alone all right.

“clizzy epilogue” -this is blank atm, it’s more a reminder for me to keep poking away at my “girls who can’t breathe air, only fire” collection BECAUSE I WOULD LIKE TO ACTUALLY GET TO THE CLIZZY AT SOME POINT

"mer!alec" -pts 2-4 of a series, but apparently having an actual plan gets in the way of me *writing* the thing, and I haven't managed to throw the half an outline far enough away from my brain to be able to write again. Or something like that.

"ibhww" -if broken hearts were whole is a soulmate fic I started a million years ago, and purposefully set aside to finish some other WIPs because I thought they'd be quick, and now it's just buried under two and a half years of regret and shame so it's hard to get back to it

"iafy" -i am for you is a delightful & frothy semi-epistolary fluff piece that also just lost momentum because Life & 2020 & etc. It's far and away the most popular thing I've ever posted on AO3, which also makes me feel weird sometimes, and I feel like the fact that there's no grand conclusion planned, just a bit more fluff and settling in, might end up being disappointing? Basically, it's the first time I think I've psyched myself out about reader expectations, and until I get over that I'm going to have trouble finishing the last couple chapters. (There really are probably only two more chapters though. IT’S SO CLOSE, I wish I could just... write it. And yet?)

“fake-hating” -I do not like fake dating as a trope that much, I just do not get it, but I love outside POVs and arranged marriages and there’s this delighful tumblr post about how they wished there was more fic about people who were together but had to pretend they werent’, and uh. This may be that? Eventually? I’m not exhausted by my failure to finish it yet, so it’s still in the regular folder rather than the hiatus folder, even though nothing’s been posted for it.

AND I THINK THAT’S IT?

Not as terrible as it could be, but still. MANY WORDS THAT MAY NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY. Posting the equivalent of one’s old ratty sketchbook is always a weird feeling. :D

[jacksgreysays]

Determined Clairvoyant, Misguided Knight brainstorm, (2020-05-29)

A/N: So I had a weird sleepless brainstorming/outlining binge last night, passed out and woke up to this chunk of nonsense...

I’ve been reading a lot of DCMK (Detective Conan and Magic Kaito) fic but also I am always a little bit thinking of DoS so my brain went:

Hey, Shisui and Shikako have very similar personalities to Kaito and Shinichi...

But Shisui is the detective and Shikako the thief.

And on the one hand, I was considering just translating it into the in Friendship Is A (Mutual) Con 'verse, such that Shisui is Interpol/FBI and ends up helping the crew because what they do is morally right even if it's not legal...

But it just wouldn’t be the same!

Also, for those who don’t know anything about DCMK, I’m not really using the Detective Conan premise (in which a famous teenage detective gets shrunken into a 6 year old and has to keep his identity secret while finding/dismantling the criminal organization that did this to him. In their defense(?) they were trying to kill him but used an “experimental poison.” They’re not going out of their way to randomly turn teenagers into kids... although there is another teenager that got turned into a kid by that same poison) 

But it is interconnected to the Magic Kaito ‘verse (in which a teenager discovers that his dad didn’t die in an accident but was murdered by a mysterious criminal organization (possibly the same one as in Detective Conan? we’re not sure) because he used to be Phantom Thief KID who was searching for a magical jewel called Pandora that supposedly grants immortality because said mysterious criminal organization wants it for nefarious means. Also the teen and his dad are stage magicians and make their heists very flashy and fun)

Anyway, personality wise I was really feeling the Shikako = paranoid/logical Shinichi vs Shisui = flamboyant genius Kaito contrasting with their arguable respective roles as Shikako = chaotic neutral regular rule breaker and Shisui = lawful good believer of systems if not authority.

I was considering whether or not I wanted to transplant the characters into the DCMK setting, but seeing how that’s just (arguably) modern day Japan I was a little... the adapting would be more work than its worth when really all I wanted was thief!Shikako and detective!Shisui and I also, as previously mentioned, didn’t want to just insert Shisui into the Fia(M)C ‘verse.

So then I remembered this ficlet in which Danzo successfully became Hokage but a mysterious figure (ie Shikako) is working against him and I was like. Okay, but reluctant detective!Shisui having to try to capture insurrectionist thief!Shikako is hilarious. And I know Shisui isn’t actually KMP in canon, but Danzo is Hokage which means the situation is bleak and I kinda explain everything below anyway, so...

Enjoy?

~

shisui is one of the oldest uchiha in the village because everyone older than him was executed by danzo for their (supposed?) attempted coup

doesn't particularly want to be a detective, but he's the only one left

sharp-eyed shisui? it is both mocking his singular eye but also he does end up being pretty good at investigation

Itachi is clan head and also one of danzo’s busiest anbu (because danzo is creepy and weird) and he’s being run so ragged that shisui stepped up to do it since he vaguely remembers the KMP’s protocols and also, with one eye short, his combat effectiveness isn’t as reliable

He hates not being able to be back up for itachi, but until he figures out the depth perception thing, he’d be a liability

Itachi is the only one with both eyes (again, because danzo is creepy and weird)

every time one of his younger cousins activate their sharingan, they are forced to undergo surgery because danzo harvests one eye from each of them

sasuke is the next upcoming kid

hikaku/sai was the most recent

Shikako is working reverse chronologically to restore eyeballs because they’re not exactly labeled but she knows the newest eye goes to the most recent activator.

This is how she gets hikaku/sai’s immediate loyalty (he has both eyes, but still hides one under his eyepatch/headband because if you can’t passive aggressively use danzo’s tricks against him then what’s the point? )

((also, it’s a real good dramatic reveal of how shikako gets shisui to trust her because he’s like “you’re stealing my family’s eyeballs and turning my little cousin into your spy” and then hikaku/sai just flips up his eyepatch and blinks both eyes at shisui and he just. “well, that was literally the only argument i had”))

Oh, the age of graduation is lower in canon because danzo doesn’t believe in coddling kids and also “back in my day” nonsense, so sasuke is maybe around 8?

kakashi is, like, a weird sticking point. he's the only non-danzo adult that has a sharingan and, hey, he's also only got just the one, but shisui also remembers the elders being a little weird about him so :shrugs:

I should figure out what to do with him, tbh

i mean, i know Shikako helps Naruto escape/evade ANBU capture because Danzo was going to turn him into a “proper jinchuuriki weapon” so maybe she throws him at Kakashi and is like “BABY SITTING DUTY FOR YOU, SAD STRING BEAN”

and there’s also Tenzo/Yamato to consider here

at first the thefts are random but escalating: old mission reports, the sandaime's novelty(?) crystal ball, the hokage's hat, the sword of the thunder god, etc, etc

then it becomes directed: sharingan eyes

Shadow Thief Shikako is here to make things real difficult for danzo

while shisui is trying really hard not to get smitten (even though she’s stealing his family’s eyeballs! but he guesses better than in danzo’s possession? he’s very conflicted emotionally and very stressed and also a teenager), shikako is recruiting allies for her coup

She needs to make a deal with the devil… Kabuto? For the medical expertise in how to re-implant all the sharingan she’s stealing?

He does spy on behalf of who he thinks is the strongest, and shikako is v strong by this point

Although, the whole concept of “you were the first person i ever wanted to murder” “you flatter me” is kind of funny

What is going on with orochimaru in this timeline?

For that matter, what’s going on with the other sannin?

hyuuga have weird feelings about the whole one eye stolen thing, branch family in particular because on the one hand: DOJUTSU/BLOODLINE THEFT is literally their big nono. But they do like being the strongest clan in the village now.

Is neji’s dad still alive? When did danzo become hokage? Is it before or after Hinata’s near kidnapping?

Ibiki, anko, aoba -- gotta figure out what’s going on there

Does aoba not have the crow summons since shisui is still alive?

Is aoba a surprise half uchiha?

Unsure how bleak i want things to be for the Nara clan. They definitely don’t like things, but i’m not sure if they’re also largely killed off, just shikaku, or just yoshino…… unless Shikamaru has been taken as Danzo’s apprentice/ROOT?

Something also has to have happened to the akimichi and yamanaka tho, in order to justify/reflect it

Team 10 is essentially being held hostage. Shikako has to “steal” them from Danzo in order to get the ANY clans’ cooperation

they’re allowed to visit their family once a week in order to get clan training, but it’s on different days from each other so the other two are still within ROOT’s grasp and the one who is visiting their family knows not to step out of line

Shikamaru has been trying really hard to help him and his teammates escape, but he’s only eight years old. I’m but a boy. I’m just a boy

There is a war.

I’ve decided this.

It’s the only way to make sense of why danzo is still in charge without him having killed a ludicrous number of people (more than he’s already killed, that is)

There is a war and that’s where the majority of the loudest dissenters are sent (inuzuka, aburame, gai, etc) and because they are always out on the front lines they don’t know how bad it actually is at home

Mist rebellion peeps?

Zabuza and Haku are still alive at this time, i guess

Terumi Mei--is there even a mist rebellion at this time or are they too busy with the war, too?

… Gelel/Sand?

look, magical gems are the crux of Magic Kaito and I know I’ve replaced them with Sharingan eyes, but still. If there’s a magical gem I feel like I’m obligated to at least mention it

also, Shinichi in Detective Conan ends up with, like, the most ludicrous allies over the course of the series. He is a--as far as anyone else knows--a 6 year old Japanese boy with connections to the American FBI. That’s nuts! So Shikako having allies with Mist or Sand isn’t too far outside feasibility in comparison

~

A/N: So... in theory I would like to come back to this and actually write it--because as far as sleepless brainstorming sessions go, this one is fairly coherent--but just in case I don’t, I figure people would enjoy this mess of an outline anyway. And it’s nice to have notes for later.

Title is, unsurprisingly, my attempt to make the letters DCMK apply to Shikako and Shisui. On the one hand, I know the quote is “and angry Aburame, a focused Inuzuka, and a motivated Nara” but I kiiiinda misremembered wrong and thought it was “determined,” fell in love with Shisui as the “misguided knight” and then only after went back to check and realized that it should’ve been “motivated”

Ah well

[gayforthe13th]

Can u pls add more verse for that villain!reader? Where maybe the master found out about u n able to trick his way into the tardis for the sole purpose to free u n ask u to join him to make 13th miserable. But whether u join him or prefer to work on ur own is up to u. Or if u have any other idea for that villain!reader fic, that would be great. Thanks in advance

I am so sorry this took so long!

warning: Mild Violence and angst but there’s fluff at the end!

part 1 here!

   Your days in the vault had gotten increasingly boring since your last confrontation with the Doctor. Her companions didn’t visit anymore, apparently, they must have learned their lesson. The Doctor hadn’t visited in a while and you’re starting to get increasingly frustrated. Every attempt to escape the vault was met with failure, the failure slowly increased your frustration until you were left sitting in a giant heap of metal parts with the Doctor berating you in at the front of the room, her arms crossed over her chest as you avoided her gaze. “Are you ever going to stop this?” she asks, watching as you flick a piece of scrap away from your feet. 

  “Are you ever going to let me go?” you growl, eyes flicking up to the Doctor just in time to see her let out an annoyed sigh.

  “I’m trying to help.,” she mutters, stepping into the room to sit down in front of you, pushing trash out of the way as she crossed her legs. “I just want to help you...I want us to be happy again..”

  “We were never happy with me,” you hissed, leaning forward so you were face to face, “I was a toy to you. A charity case,” your hand shoots out to grasp her collar before she could back away, fist grasping the collar of her shirt as you pull her closer. You’re almost nose to nose, the grin on your face only grows when her breath hitches. “I’m not your plaything anymore my love, I don’t need you.” You shove her back, standing up as she tumbles to the floor, your eyes boring down on her as she scrambles to get up. “This was a nice chat,” you snark as she pushes herself to her feet, “I look forward to seeing you again.” 

  She gives you one last lingering look, her chest heaving, then she turns and leaves you alone in the vault once again. 

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

  The Doctor visits you a lot more often after that and every time she does you push her away or, in one particular instance, slam her to the ground and watch as she struggles to finally toss you off. But every day she visits anyway, despite the things you say to her, or the way you fight. After a while, the fighting begins to get boring. She had stopped fighting back, stopped dodging your punches or blocking your kicks. More often than not she would leave with a busted lip or a black eye, and you wondered if her new friends had begun to notice. It was only on the sixth day that she told you no one but the two of you were on the ship, and that’s when you began to wonder what she really wanted from you.

  “Why aren’t you fighting back!?” you grunt on the seventh day as you slam her into the wall and watch her fall to the floor with a grunt, tears streaming down your face. “Do you want this Doctor?” you purr, grasping her by her hair and forcing her head back, “do you think this will save you? Release you of your guilt?” you hiss, fist tightening in her hair. You hear her whimper, but she makes no move to fight back. “ANSWER ME!” you growl. 

  “You think I deserve it,” she mutters, sucking in a sharp breath as your fist tightens further. 

  “So what? You’re doing this for my sake?”

  “If it makes you feel better,” she says. For a moment, your eyes soften. Feel better? This wasn’t making you feel better. If anything it was making you angrier. Angrier and angrier until hurting her made you feel nothing but pain. With a huff you release her, watching her fall to the floor. In the next instant, you’re lifting her up, making sure she could stand before pulling away from her. 

  “Leave,” you growl, turning back to your newly rebuilt bed in the corner of your prison and waiting until you hear the telltale sound of the vault door clicking shut before you burst into tears.

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

   The next time someone enters the vault it’s not at all anyone you expect. The last time you saw the Master he was a woman, now though, he saunters into the room a maniac grin on his face as he surveys you. You know it’s him, his eyes are different from the Doctor’s, more unhinged, those same eyes Missy had locked on yours when you first met her.  You can hear his hearts beat rapidly as his eyes fall on you. There’s a distant siren in the background, the ship must have detected the intruder. You’re too busy sizing him up to really notice. He stalks towards you, hands behind his back, the picture of confidence. “Been a while,” he says as the two of you circle each other. You’re vaguely aware of the open vault door behind your back. 

  “Why are you here?” you ask, stopping short with your back to the door as he stops in front of you, his gaze flickers over you. 

  “Here to rescue a friend of course.”

  “Since when were we friends?” you snark, a smirk forming on your face. His grin doesn’t falter as he steps closer to you, he was a good couple of inches taller than you, you could feel his breath as he grasps your chin and lifts your head up to face him. 

  “I like to think we have interests in common...Am I wrong?” he purrs, thumb tracing your bottom lip. For a moment, your heart stutters. Something inside of you tells you to back away, to get the Doctor. You never thought you’d feel that way again. 

  “Where is she?” you whisper. The Master snorts, pulling away from you.

  “Why do you care?”

  “Where. Is she?” you growl, stalking forward. Your eyes flicker to the psychic hologram filter on his waist, you make sure not to let him notice. He wasn’t really here, of course. You were sure his TARDIS was parked somewhere nearby, that he projected himself into the ship just enough to take control of her layout and for her to detect him. The ship was a maze, and only the Master knew the way out. 

  “Come with me, we can destroy her together,” he says. You weigh your options, and for a moment it's silent except for the occasional beeping of the siren. Then, you’re smirking and taking his hand, allowing him to lead you out of the vault and to the console room. That’s when you enact your plan. 

  “So what’s your plan?” you giggle, fake enthusiasm upon your face as the two of you circle the console. Unbeknownst to him, you’ve hit a specific selection of buttons and switches, waiting for him to set the ship into flight. You knew he had to in order to get to his ship, which, according to the TARDIS was parked on the planet below. When he finally pulls the lever the ship shudders violently, throwing him down. You cling to the console, feeling her layout shift until the Doctor emerges from one of the hallways and runs to the console room. She surveys the situation for only a moment, but the Master is getting up again and there’s no time to say anything. 

  “You tricked me!” he growls, roaring with anger as he tries to grab for you. But the Doctor is quicker, snatching his psychic hologram filter and tossing it to the ground. His image flickers and then disappears altogether. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when the Doctor sets the TARDIS’ course away from the planet below. It’s silent for a moment, she bites her lips as she thinks. Her thoughts are always so damn loud. You tear your eyes away from her, leaning against the console with your arms crossed. 

  “Suppose I’m going back to my cell?” you ask. You hear more than see her walk towards you, her hand coming to press against your cheek. You flinch at the touch, your gaze landing on hers. 

  “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” you’ve got a snarky response ready, but something holds you back. 

  “No,” you say instead, shutting your eyes and leaning into her touch as her thumb brushes gently across your cheek. Where you hated the Master’s touch, hers didn’t fail to make your skin tingle. You sigh, lifting your hand to press against hers. “What are you doing?” you mutter, opening your eyes only to find her closer to you than before.

  “You could’ve left with him,” she says. 

  “I could’ve. Yes,” she smiles warmly at you, you don’t hate it.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against hers. Her hand leaves your cheek to wrap around your neck and play gently with your hair. 

  “I’m sorry I left you..” her gaze flickers down to your lips and for a moment you’re hesitant. She backs off slightly like she could feel your weariness. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she says, “I know what I did was wrong..I was just scared of how I felt about you.” you scoff, “it’s true!” she insists, both arms wrapping around your neck. Your place your hands on her waste hesitantly, her nose is almost touching yours. Once again, her gaze flickers down to your lips. You’re tired of hesitating. You lean in, capturing her lips with yours. She sighs gently into the kiss, her fingers threading themselves carefully through your hair. The TARDIS hums.

  Somewhere down the hall, a vault disappeared from her layout.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ @sasuhinabigflash2020​​ || Day Twenty-One: A Dark and Stormy Night ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Fugaku, Uchiha Shisui ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Catch ‘Em All ] [ AO3 Link ]

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It is, without any exaggeration, a dark and stormy night.

Sitting in the Pokémon center, Sasuke watches the rain pelt against the windows, the silhouettes of Fuchsia’s buildings blackened out every time a strike of lightning flashes. The rumble of thunder follows every fork.

So much for his visit back home being a smooth one.

He considered just heading straight for the house, but something convinced him otherwise. Maybe something about the weather just...feels like it would make arriving home a bit much right now. He’d rather handle the rush of his mother’s smothering and the interrogation by his father over his journey’s most recent leg during a calmer morning.

As he always does when resting for the night, he’s let his team out to stretch and sleep outside their pokéballs. The six of them are circled around his table...save for Jolteon, who’s currently curled up on his lap, ears flickering every time lightning strikes. The center is currently empty beyond himself and the nurses.

At least, it was.

With a mechanical hum, the automatic doors then slide open. For a moment, the storm seeps in with all its violence, rain and wind hurling through until the entryway closes.

Sasuke blinks at the sight of his father, brother, and cousin.

“Nurse!” Fugaku calls, already striding through the building as he seemingly ignores anyone else.

“Yes?”

“I need you to prepare for an influx of trainers.”

“O-of course! Is something wrong?”

“This storm came up at just the wrong time,” the gym leader growls. “A tour group is currently trapped in the Safari Zone. The staff are working on getting them back, but the lightning is making it dangerous. As soon as we get them out, they’ll be coming here for shelter.”

“Understood! We’ll be ready! And our Pikachu are prepared in case the power goes down, so don’t worry about that, Fugaku-sama!”

Nodding curtly, the man turns and finally notices his younger son. “...Sasuke?”

He just nods.

Shisui and Itachi both perk up in surprise.

“When did you get in?”

“Half an hour ago or so. Thought I’d wait out the weather and stop by in the morning. But it seems you guys need some help.”

Expression grave, his father nods. “Indeed. I take it you heard the news?”

“Enough of it.” Nudging his partner, Sasuke stands as Jolteon hops to the tiled floor and stretches. “We can help ground some of the lightning for the search party.”

“Excellent. I’ll let you head out, then - Itachi and Shisui are heading the effort. Follow their lead.”

Giving another nod, Sasuke orders the rest of his team to stay inside before running after the other Uchiha. “How’d the group end up in the park in this weather?”

“It came up fast from the sea!” Shisui calls back in reply. “By the time we knew what was happening, they were too far out in the park to make it back on their own. They’re currently in a small building out in the park itself, but the power’s out and there’s worries it’s not safe. The sooner we get them back into town, the better.”

Soon they reach the park’s entrance, a few staff in the building looking tense. Excused through as officers, the trio head out into the park proper.

“Do we know where they are?”

“Golbat came back with a message, they’re in the northeast quadrant. Once we get there, I’ve got a few pokémon that can help carry anyone that needs it. Otherwise, we’re relying on you and Jolteon to keep any lightning from hitting us.”

“Got it.”

With that, they head out along the main trail, veering northeast as Shisui leads them. Jolteon, ears swiveling, watches keenly for strikes. And the rain keeps falling, soaking them all to the bone within minutes.

“This way!”

Ahead of them, gesturing to be followed as her Rapidash rears, one of the park’s head rangers appears out of the din.

“Is everyone gathered up?”

“Yes, all are accounted for. Now we just need to get them -!”

“Jol!” Leaping into the air, Jolteon meets a lightning strike with an attack of their own, warding off the electricity.

“No time to lose!” Shisui then insists, following as they make the final stretch to the shack in the park’s corner.

Inside, a crowd of a dozen or so people huddle together, a few fire types providing light in the blackout. They turn as the door opens.

“Everyone! We’re evacuating the park - please follow us in a quick but orderly fashion. Anyone with electric types are encouraged to release them from their pokéballs and help keep lightning from the group. We’re heading to the Pokémon center so you’ll all have a warm, dry place to sleep tonight. Just keep calm, and we’ll be all right!”

The park ranger takes the lead, her Rapidash’s mane and tail a bright beacon, even through the rain. Shisui and Itachi flank either side, with Sasuke and Jolteon at the rear. The tourists stick closely together in the middle.

Of course none of them have any electric types, so it’s up to Sasuke and his partner to keep the group safe. The little Jolteon is clearly nervous at the prospect of failure and someone getting hurt.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Sasuke tries to reassure them.

“Are you o-okay?”

Glancing over, Sasuke spies one of the park’s guests, concern in her eyes. “Yeah. They’re just a little spooked. Never had to do this before.”

“Are you one of the Uchiha officers?”

“Not officially,” he replies vaguely. “Long story. But I’m here to help.”

“Thank you. Sadly me and my water types are a bit useless in all this.”

“It’s fine. Just focus on keeping up and getting out of here.”

As the group hurries on, Jolteon intercepts several strikes, redirecting them back to the clouds. And after several long, agonizing minutes...they make it back to the main building. Waiting for them is Fugaku with a small team of the Pokémon center’s Pikachu to help with the lightning.

“This way, everyone! We’re almost there!”

“Senpai!”

The park head turns as another ranger approaches, out of breath. “What’s wrong?”

“T-there’s a fire started along the west side of the park! The rain’s letting up and not enough to put out the flames!”

As one, the Uchiha glance to each other hesitantly - none of them have -?

“I have water types!”

The trainer from before steps forward, hand raised. “I can help!”

“As do I, there’s no need for you to put yourself in harm’s way,” the park head replies.

“The more pokémon we have, the less we’ll lose!” the other ranger insists. “Senpai, the park has been dry until now with the lack of rain. It might be slowed a bit from the earlier downpour, but it’s still dry enough to burn.”

Scowling, she turns to Sasuke. “Can you accompany us?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“...then let’s do this.”

The group splits - most heading out toward the center as the smaller portion heads back out to cut off the fire. Lightning still flies - if anything, it seems to intensify as the rain begins to pass.

“Of all the rotten luck,” the lead ranger mutters. “I’ll work on a burn line with Rapidash along the north side and head off what flames I can with my water types. You stay here in the south and work on this end!”

“But what about the lightning?” Sasuke calls as she heads off.

“We can handle it!”

...well all right then.

A scant minute later, they find the pluming smoke, a small wall of flames slowly spreading east.

“You sure you’ve got this?” Sasuke calls.

“Yes! Just focus on the lightning!” the trainer calls back, unleashing a team of Golduck, Dewgong, Seaking, and Lapras. At once, they all start targeting the fire with water attacks, loud hissing sounding with clouds of steam.

And Jolteon quickly goes to work rerouting the storm. Any strikes that loom too close are sent flying another direction with a jolt of their own.

Bit by bit, they extinguish the flames, and the charred remnants are all that’s left. The further north they move, the thinner it gets...until they meet back up with the head ranger. At her disposal is a Dragonair, Kingdra, and Gyrados.

“Excellent work!” she calls. “Seems it’s all out - we can head back, now! Thank you both for your efforts. I’ll see about getting you reimbursed.”

“No need,” Sasuke replies. “Just glad to help.”

“M-me too,” his companion agrees.

“Well, all right then. Can I have your names?”

“Uchiha Sasuke.”

“Hyūga Hinata.”

“Well, thank you both, Uchiha-san, Hyūga-san. Now, let’s get you back to the center and dried off.”

Packed with the stranded trainers, the Pokémon center is bustling as Sasuke returns to his team, who greet him excitedly after his absence. “We’re fine, we’re fine,” he assures them. “Just a little foul weather.” Still, he accepts a warm blanket and a hot meal from one of the nurses with a nod.

“So, this is your team?”

Glancing up, he spies Hinata similarly outfitted. “Mhm.”

“You must be quite the trainer.” She takes a seat on the opposite side of his table.

“Been at it since I was pretty young. Lots of time and effort, but it’s worth it. Your team was pretty impressive out there. Battling isn’t the only thing pokémon can do, after all.”

She blushes, head ducking shyly. “...true. I was happy to help. The park does a lot for conservation. Seeing it burn would have been h-horrible.”

“Mm…”

“Are you...staying here tonight?”

“I am. Heading home in the morning - my family lives here in Fuchsia.”

“Oh! I’m from Cerulean, myself. Wanted to visit the park and the beach. Hopefully the latter goes s-smoothly compared to the park.”

That earns a snort. “I doubt much can be worse than today. Glad everyone made it out safely.”

“And a lot of that is thanks to you.”

“Anyone could have done what we did.”

“True...but it was you this time.” Hinata smiles at him. “...hey, um...do you have Pokégear?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I just thought…” She fiddles slightly. “...maybe I could register you on mine?”

Sasuke blinks. “...sure.”

The pair exchange numbers before the nurses call for lights out in five minutes. Hinata glances over before giving a sheepish smile. “Well, I...guess I better get some sleep.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“If I don’t see you before you leave, I’ll just...say goodbye now. And thank you again for your help.”

Rather than a verbal reply, Sasuke just gives a nod and watches her retreat to an offered bedroll.

Well...it wasn’t how he planned his trip home to go. But at least it hasn’t been boring, right?

     Random piece is...very random, and a bit rushed, but I think it turned out all right! I do love me some pokémon verse. This isn’t the childhood friends version I had in the yearlong challenge - they’re strangers in this one. But it was neat to try a new angle in a previously-used verse.      Anyway, not...much else to say about it? I’m wiped and didn’t get as much done as I wanted today, so...time to just call it a night and try again tomorrow xD So I’ll see you guys then - thanks for reading!

[pacifv]

HE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all have witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

Mun Name: Mik      Age: 26      Contact: IM, discord

Character(s) I rp: Eden ( in bleach ) -- I have other ocs but that’s another story Which muse(s) inspires you the most atm?(for MM): Eden... ? Current Fandom(s): Bleach , so far Fandom(s) you have an AU for:  more fantasy esque ones?  My language(s): spanish , english  Themes I’m interested in for rp:   Fantasy / Science fiction / Horror / Western / Romance / Thriller / Mystery / Dystopia / Adventure / Modern / Erotic / Crime / Mythology / Classic / History / Renaissance / Medieval / Ancient / War / Family / Politics / Religion / School / Adulthood / Childhood / Apocalyptic / Gods / Sport / Music / Science / Fights / Angst / Smut / Drama / etc. Themes/Genres you have an AU for: fantasy , religious

Preferred Thread length: one-liner / 1 para / 2 para / 3+ / novella. Asks can be send by: Mutuals / Non-Mutuals / Personals / Anons. Can Asks be continued?:   YES / NO   only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO. Preferred thread type: crack / casual nothing too deep / serious / deep as heck. Is realism / research important for you in certain themes?:   YES / NO. Are you atm open for new plots?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Do you handle your draft / ask - count well?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. How long do you usually take to reply?:  24h / 1 week / 2 weeks / 3+ / months / years. I’m okay with interacting: original characters / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / my fandom / crossovers / multi-muses / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / canon-divergent portrayals / au-versions (as main or only verse). Do you post more ic or occ?:  IC / OOC. Are you selective with following others?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.  

Best ways to approach you for rp/plotting:  IM since this is pretty much new . just slap me with that and if you have some ideas , better --- if not let just brainstorm with what we have in hand . 

What expectations do you hold towards your plotting partner:  some minimal idea of the context and eden’s character . some ideas if possible . more than often I have gotten people straight up jump with no clue of what even is going on in my side character wise . 

When you notice the plotting is rather one-sided, what do you do?:  depends , most likely really stop trying or let it sink . I’m not much of a person who would pressure for ideas when they don’t even come naturally for me in these kind of situations . 

How do you usually plot with others, do you give input or leave most work towards your partner?:  First of all , ask what they particularly want and if they read the bio . and of course , have their bio as well ( if oc or any relevant hc on vague canons ) . I am honestly a bit shy on the input but if I found a ground to start letting my imagination loose ( like , something in common between characters or something that clicks well with my muse ) I can suggest several things . but in any case , I’m pretty passive and it’s a lot of gives and takes . 

When a partner drops the thread, do you wish to know?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: depends on the thread , the time and the interest . things that go downtown in the excitement scale are :/  and I can’t blame anyone for dropping a thread . not all the time you will have muse for them , tho , if it was a relevant thread I would ask at least . - What should your partner do when dropping a thread?:  pretty much free to tell me or not . I’m no one to judge.

What could possibly lead you to drop a thread?:  losing muse , interest , time ... pretty much the same . feeling like my muse is going too OOC for the sake of the other muse or smth .  - Will you tell your partner?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS.

Is communication in the rpc important to you?   YES / NO. - And why?:  I am very old school and having some OOC interaction to at least know how things are going , it’s as much as I can ask here .  - Are you okay with absolute honesty, even if it may means hearing something negative about you and/or portrayal?:  I mean , I should . it can turn me off a bit but it’s just natural ? there’s no way something can be perfect or be of someone’s taste . plus I am not that smart to be fully aware of all the things around the motif and IRL information I use on my muse . I’m no book , buddy. - Do you think you can handle such situation in a mature way?  YES / NO.

Why do you rp again, is there a goal?:  development , exploring the muse , seeing what works and doesn’t work . often new blogs for me are basically prototypes , they are and will  most likely have minor or major modifications as my imagination starts working and getting excited . besides , in the basics , you can hardly manage to cover all ( if anything ) of how one’s muse would react to X situation .

Wishlist, be it plots or scenarios:  a lot of quincy lore , come up with more personal connections with other quincies , fully develop a backstory and a post war scenario . cultural exploration  --- relationships of all kinds . 

Themes I won’t ever rp / explore:  pretty much I am fine with anything as long as we don’t cross the gross line . but I’m not afraid of the dark .

What Type of Starters do you prefer / dislike, can’t work with?: absurdly basic and with no context given . not even have an idea of what is the deal between muses . I can squeeze my brain but there is as much as i can do with little information .

What type of characters catch your interest the most?:  quirky ones , conflictive ones , most likely muses with specific motifs that spark my interest -- deepness . Aesthetically interesting ones . but overall , those who have out of the normal personalities . 

What type of characters catch your interest the least?:  personalities that doesn’t work or do not harmonize with the context of their characters . that’s all I can say .

What are your strong aspects as rp partner?:  I am.... creative ? gdi I did this meme already but it’s hard to reply these two ones. I am easily excitable . if we end up in a ship , expect me to be pampering af . I really enjoy the exploration of relations between people , emotions and psychological stuff tied around it . I do like casual and also very deep things . I’m not afraid of dealing with heavy topics . I like horror ???? also I am very into the secondary character role , as in : my muse is here to help your muse to grow or insight . that stuff . not much of a protagonist role in RPs. 

What are your weak aspects as rp partner?: I’m .... very.... sporadic . My mood is annoying esp when I’m “new” blog around kind of thing . I’m shy , even if I don’t seem so --- I get pretty anxious over details . I am impatient --- with myself . I want to do so many things at the same time I end up overwhelmed . 

Do you rp smut?:  YES / NO. Do you prefer to go into detail?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Are you okay with black curtain?:  YES / NO. - When do you rp smut? More out of fun or character development?:  mmmmmmmmm , both. Depends on mood and context tbh . - Anything you would not want to rp there?:  nothing I can think from the top of my head.

Are ships important to you?:   YES / NO. Would you say your blog is ship-focused?:   YES / NO. Do you use read more?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Are you: Multi-Ship / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  Multiverse / Singleverse. - What do you love to explore the most in your ships?:  again , I’m big mood for interpersonal relationships ( romantic or not ) , the pros and cos of certain traits , ideology clash , personality clash , anything that comes in a relation that could make it come and go .  - What is your smut tag?: unholy.

Are you okay with pre-established relationships?: YES / NO. - And what kind of ones?: all are hella okay for me . pre- est is my jam bc jesus christ the awkward first encounters make me go blue screen .

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- What could possibly make your Muse interesting towards others, why should they rp with this particular character of yours now, what possible plots do they offer?:  the fact she is basically a “religious fanatic” , with a quirky personality and a questionable morality , considering she has an inner conflict between the wellness of her race and her loyalty towards yhwach . At least pre war . post war , she has a flipped personality were she is mostly bitter and more angsty but will go from fanatic to straight up hater . 

- With what type of Muses do you usually struggle to rp with?:   bland personalities ? not sure myself , Eden is pretty much ready for anything since her personality is pretty laid back . I guess I would say shinigamis in general --- since she basically is stuck inside Silbern . - With what type of Muses do they usually work well with?:  Quincies , ofc . and people who are willing to put up with her crap .

- What interests your Muse(s) in general:  the prosperity of the quincy , doing a proper duty , order , tea , annoying the fuck out of people . being eerie ....  - What do they desire, is their goal?:  the ideal world as thought by Yhwach --- later on simply for her kind to survive after losing the war and being left to their luck . - What catches their interest first when meeting someone new?:  mmm , appearance  and reactions to her witty or narcisistic comments .  - What do they value in a person?:    loyalty , uniqueness . - What themes do they like talking about?:  most likely about the order of the army , tea stuff , herself (?) , but she is also a lot for debates and insight . - Which themes bore them?:  rebellious , silly thoughts . justice related topics . anything that critics her loyalty/life style . 

- Did they ever went through something traumatic?:  the first war was enough ? most likely losing comrades --- yhwach sacrificing the quincy for power later on .  - What could possibly trigger them?:  the simple sight of anyone laying a finger of the quincy for being against their views .   - What could set them off, enrage them?:  nothing. she cannot literally , physically get angry or enraged . but if we are talking bitter , that would be completely post war and it’s just the mention of yhwach’s name or those who went to god’s palace with him .  - What could lead to an instant kill?:  invasion of silbern , chaos . 

- Is there someone /-thing they hate?:  chaos , rebels , shinigami , anyone against the quincy . - Is there someone /-thing they love?:   her race , her pride , herself .

Is your Muse easy to approach?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?:  just .... come to her and say hi . she is literally wandering around silbern all the time ( quincy speaking tho ) . for others , eh ... good luck . and wait post war (?) - Where are they usually to find?:  Silbern ... then Siberia . 

Something you may still want to point out about your muse?:  She is no saint , clearly . She has a questionable sense of things like loyalty and preservation of her race . she is honestly all over the place

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by:  honestly stole from @skyvar​  Tagging:  no one in particular.

[emospritelet]

#94 — “I wasn’t expecting a gift,” from the festive fic prompts. Original sin verse, please!

Belle heads to Storybrooke to give Demon!Gold some news...

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [AO3]

x

It was snowing again.

Belle closed and locked the door of the bookshop, turning her face up to the darkened sky and feeling the light kiss of cold flakes on her nose and cheeks. She let out a sigh, blinking rapidly to clear the snowflakes from her lashes, and put her keys in her bag before heading down the street. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and people hurried around her, clutching bulging bags of last-minute purchases. Belle had already made it known by virtue of a card in the bookshop window that she would not be open on Christmas Eve. It would mean that she would lose some last-minute sales, of course, but that couldn’t be helped. There was somewhere else she needed to be.

The wind was biting, and she shivered a little, pushing her chin down into her scarf as she quickened her pace. The neon sign outside Roni’s bar was a welcoming sight, and Belle ducked inside the door, letting a wave of heat and the raucous guitar of some rock ballad wash over her. She stamped snow from her boots, eyes flicking to the bar. Roni, the dark-haired owner and bartender, was deep in conversation with a woman that Belle hadn’t seen before. She was blonde and slender, with pale skin set off by the cream coat she wore above leather pants the colour of tropical sand and a cream turtleneck sweater. The woman had a glass of white wine, and was running a pale finger around the base of the glass as they talked in quiet voices. Roni had a glass in her hand, and was wiping it with a cloth in a surprisingly nervous fashion.

“So, I’m closing up tomorrow around eight,” she said. “If - if you wanted to come over for a drink, or something.”

The blonde woman smiled a little sadly.

“I don’t think my side would like that,” she said, and Roni’s face fell a little before a bright smile curved her red lips.

“Sure,” she said. “I understand. Big night for you guys, right? I don’t exactly celebrate.”

“It’s - it’s not that I don’t want to…”

“Really, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” 

Roni turned away, her smile tight, almost a grimace, and Belle felt a surge of sympathy for her. She had never seen the blonde woman before, but there was clearly some history there, and deep feelings that were not remotely one-sided. She hoped they could work it out.

“Hey,” she said lightly, as though she hadn’t noticed their pining. “Man, it’s freezing out there!”

“Belle,” said Roni, looking relieved at her arrival. “You okay? Haven’t seen you in a week.”

“Yeah, I was feeling under the weather,” said Belle, wrinkling her nose.

“Nothing serious, I hope.”

Belle sucked her teeth, then shrugged. May as well tell someone.

“Depends on your point of view, I guess,” she said. “I’m pregnant.”

“A baby?” The blonde woman looked delighted. “That’s wonderful!”

“Thank you.” 

Belle returned her warm smile. Roni’s reaction was nothing more than an upward flick of one brow.

“Oh,” she said. “Uh - congratulations?”

“Thanks.” Belle shrugged out of her coat. “You don’t seem too surprised.”

Roni pulled a face.

“You did look kinda beat last time you were in here,” she said. “When you said you couldn’t face a gin and tonic but scarfed down a bowl of pickled jalapeno slices, I gotta admit I had my suspicions.”

“Is that why you pushed me away from the wine and towards the iced tea?” said Belle wryly.

“Speaking of…” Roni picked up a glass with a questioning look, and Belle nodded, climbing onto a bar stool.

“You got any of those jalapenos?” she asked.

Roni slid a glass of iced tea across the bar towards her, and smirked before reaching for the jar of pickled chilli slices behind her.

“I’m gonna have to get in some more of these,” she said. “Never took you for a spice fiend.”

“Can’t seem to get enough of it right now,” said Belle, eyeing the slices of jalapeno as Roni scooped them up and drained them with the edge of a spoon.

“Is that a pregnancy thing?”

“Must be,” she sighed. “I guess at least it’s more healthy than my old cupcake obsession.”

“Got a fresh batch in today.” Roni pushed a little dish of pickled chillies towards her, and gestured to the plastic cake stand to her left, where sat half a dozen chocolate cupcakes, each topped with a thickly-piped swirl of inky-black frosting and a single dark cherry, sticky with syrup. “Want one? On the house, since you’re eating for two.”

Belle was tempted, tapping her fingernails on the bar.

“Guess I’d better check there’s nothing in there I shouldn’t be having,” she said. “You got a list of what’s in these things? I ate like two dozen of them leading up to Halloween, and they taste too good to be totally healthy.”

“Yeah, I got an ingredient list somewhere,” said Roni vaguely, fishing around under the bar. “The guy that makes ‘em dropped it off. Get a lot of questions about allergies. Here.”

She slapped a somewhat ragged piece of paper on the bar, and Belle looked it over. She glanced up, fixing Roni with a flat stare.

“Activated charcoal?” she said. “You weren’t planning on mentioning that?”

“Oh, yeah, apparently it’s how he got the frosting black,” said Roni, unconcerned.

“Activated charcoal?” said Belle incredulously. “Are you kidding me? I thought it was just regular food colouring!”

“What?” asked Roni, looking confused. “Isn’t it supposed to be good for you? That’s what the guy said, anyway. Some sort of hipster ingredient?”

“Not if you’re on bloody birth control!” 

“What?”

“It screws it up!” exclaimed Belle, throwing up her arms and letting them fall. “You do know that?”

“Uh…” Roni shifted uneasily. “No?”

“Roni!”

“Well, why would I?” she said defensively. “I don’t take birth control! I’m not even sure I understand how it works!”

“I don’t believe this!”

“Seriously, you’ve been handing out cupcakes that mess with people’s birth control?” remarked the blonde woman. Roni put her hands on her hips.

“It wasn’t me!” she insisted. “Do you really think I could do something that evil?”

The blonde woman gave her a very flat look, and Roni huffed.

“Well, I didn’t!”

Belle leaned on the bar with a sigh.

“At least I have an explanation now,” she said dryly. “I thought it was just bad luck. Or - or good luck, I guess. You know what I mean.”

Roni leaned on the bar, putting her head to the side.

“You’re happy about it?” she asked carefully.

Belle took a sip of her iced tea, and smiled as she set down her glass.

“Yeah,” she said. “I am. I mean, it was a shock, not gonna lie, but now I’ve had time to think about it, I’m really excited. I guess the timing isn’t great, but is there ever a perfect time?”

“And the father?” Roni sounded cautious, and Belle sighed.

“Haven’t told him yet,” she admitted. “I only found out yesterday, and - well, he lives up in Maine. Something tells me this needs to be a face-to-face conversation.”

“Yeah.” Roni poured herself a glass of whisky, and leaned on the bar. “Well, I imagine he’ll be pleased to see you.”

“You think?” asked Belle. “We only had one date.”

“Apparently it was one hell of a date.” Roni sipped at her whisky.

“Yeah, but we haven’t managed to cross paths since,” she said. “We’ve been emailing, but - well, I guess it’s a long drive. He said work was keeping him busy until the New Year.”

“So are you going up there?”

“Getting the bus to Maine tomorrow,” she confirmed.

“Hmm.” Roni smirked. “Give the old bastard my regards, won’t you?”

“Do you know him?” asked Belle, confused. “He said you didn’t, but the two of you acted kind of…”

“Kind of what?”

“I don’t know.” Belle popped a chilli slice in her mouth, savouring the sharp heat. “Like you were in some sort of secret society and couldn’t talk about it.”

“Who are you talking about?” asked the blonde woman, suddenly suspicious, and Roni sent her a smile.

“No one important,” she said. “At least not to me. Don’t even know the guy’s name.”

“His name’s Damien Gold,” said Belle, and the blonde woman frowned slightly, as though she was trying to remember something.

“Anyhow, never mind about him,” said Roni hurriedly. “When’s the baby due?”

“July.”

“You know what you’re having?”

“Oh, it’s way too early to tell,” said Belle hastily. “I don’t care, anyway. Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Well, I wish you every happiness,” said the blonde woman warmly, reaching out to take her hand.

Belle went to take it, opening her mouth to say thank you, when a spark of electricity bounced between them, making them both yelp and jerk back before they could touch. The woman rubbed her fingers on her pants, frowning.

“Ouch,” said Roni. “Man-made fibres, huh? Give me leather every time.”

The blonde woman gave her another suspicious, somewhat weary look, and Belle wondered exactly what it was that was going on between them. She took a sip of her iced tea, picking at the chilli slices as Roni went to serve another customer. Twenty-four hours, and she would be in Maine. Seeing the father of her child. She wondered what he was doing with his day. Whether he had the faintest notion of how his life was going to change.

x

The Greyhound bus pulled into Storybrooke just before seven, and Belle looked around herself as she stepped off onto a sidewalk covered in snow and crisscrossed with footprints. The town looked quaint, the main street strung with festive lights and the shops all sporting decorations. A large Christmas tree sat in a square off to her left, lights flashing red and gold, and she smiled. Storybrooke certainly embraced the Christmas spirit.

Belle clutched her bag in one hand, a holdall stuffed with enough clothes to get her through the next week if necessary. She wasn’t sure how long she would need to discuss matters with Gold. Worst case scenario, he would refuse to have anything to do with her, in which case she would be back on the bus to New York and preparing to raise her child alone. She didn’t think he would cut them off completely, but she was prepared for it nonetheless.

She had called ahead to the only place to stay in town, a bed and breakfast called Granny’s. Finding it was easy; a nearby diner bore the same name, and she could see the inn attached to it. She bypassed the diner and walked up a dark path, the trees lining it strung with coloured lights. The interior of the inn was old-fashioned, but it was clean and comfortable, and Mrs Lucas, its grey-haired owner, seemed kindhearted, if a little brusque.

She did little more than check that her room was clean before dropping her bag on the bed and rummaging in it for the gift she had brought. Perhaps it was foolish, bringing Gold a Christmas present, but she had been poking around the flea market and the item had called to her. She had taken it home and set it carefully in a box, wrapping it in bright red paper with stylised reindeer and Santa figures, and tied it up with a red ribbon. Now that she was looking at it, it seemed garish and somehow insulting, although she wasn’t sure why anyone would be insulted by receiving a present. Telling herself she was nervous, and therefore not thinking straight, she shoved it into her handbag and checked her hair and make-up, reapplying deep red lipstick and pulling her cloche hat back on her head.

Belle had asked Mrs Lucas where Mr Gold’s antique shop could be found, and after receiving a surprised, narrow-eyed look, had been given directions. She could hear the noise from the diner as she passed by: Christmas music and the raucous laughter and cheerful conversation of the diners. It faded as she walked away, down the darkened streets with the snow falling around her and deadening her footsteps. It was late, and she wasn’t sure if she would find Gold in his shop, but the lit sign appeared out of the night, a square of gold against the black of the sky. His was the only shop not decked with coloured lights, the window displaying an old tea set, an ancient globe and a brass telescope, all cushioned on black velvet and lit with a warm, golden light. Perhaps he didn’t celebrate Christmas. It made her feel even more nervous about buying him a gift.

Glancing through the window, she could see him, and her heart began to thump harder. He was standing behind the shop counter, hands poised on tented fingers and his eyes fixed on the door, as though he was waiting for someone. As though he was waiting for her. It made her swallow hard, her nerves increasing. Why the hell didn’t I call, tell him I was coming? What if he has family visiting? What if - what if he has a wife? Is that the reason he didn’t come back? Because he has his own life here? Oh God, why didn’t I bloody well call?

Taking a deep breath, and telling herself to be brave, she pushed open the door, a bell tinkling cheerfully above. It swung shut behind her, and she took a step forward, moving closer. Gold’s dark eyes caught hers, but there was a tiny smile on his face, and it gave her courage, made her move closer.

The shop smelt of beeswax and old books, filled with the low, rhythmic ticking of clocks and the gleam of soft yellow light on polished wood and shining brass and cut crystal. Belle stepped up the counter, meeting Gold’s eyes. He was wearing black, the faint gleam of silk in the folds of his shirt where gold sleeve garters pushed them up above his elbows. His tie was black silk, too, with a damask pattern, a gold tie pin clipped across its dark length. He wore no jacket, a waistcoat closely fitting his slim form, the thin gold chain of a pocket watch looping across from his belt. His hair hung around his face, soft and shining, and she remembered how it had felt slipping between her fingers, brushing her cheeks as he moved inside her. She felt a surge of desire go through her, and licked her lips. Not the time.

“Hey,” she said, and he smiled in a satisfied manner, settling back on his heels a little.

“Miss French,” he said. “How lovely to see you.”

“I think we’re on first name terms,” she said, with a nervous smile. “We’ve seen each other very naked, or did you forget?”

Gold’s grin widened, showing white teeth.

“Oh, I could never forget that.” He put his head to the side. “How are you?”

“I’m - uh - fine.”

Her heart was thumping, her belly twisting with nerves. How would he react? Would he be pleased? Angry? Certainly he’d be shocked, but would he reject her, reject his child? God, she wished she had called first! Telling herself it was too bloody late now, she decided to follow her original plan. She reached into her bag, taking out the gift-wrapped box, and placed it on the counter. 

“Merry Christmas,” she said nervously.

Gold blinked, and looked from the present to her and back again, seemingly unsure of himself.

“I wasn’t expecting a gift.”

“Tis the season.”

“Yes.”

He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, looking oddly hesitant.

“I thought you’d come to me,” he admitted. “But I didn’t know when that would be. Perhaps the New Year, or—”

“Did you want me to come?” God, this was agony! Gold sighed, but gave her that tiny smile again. 

“Of course I did,” he said. “What I mean to say is, I - I don’t have anything to give you in return. I don’t celebrate, you see. Tomorrow I was planning on doing inventory.”

“That’s okay,” she said, and took a deep breath. “You already gave me the best present I could hope for, anyway.”

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, a gleam of gold shining in their depths.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She shifted awkwardly. “Uh - you might want to be sitting down for this.”

His smile widened.

“Whatever you have to tell me, I can take it.”

“Right.”

Her heart was hammering in her chest, her skin prickling all over, and she wanted nothing more than to climb over the counter and kiss him. She licked her lips, and summoned all her courage, raising her chin.

“I’m pregnant.”

[bisexualstevierogers]

I Want You To Be Happier (Peter B. Parker X Reader)

Fandom: Into the Spider-Verse Pairing: Peter B. Parker X Reader Word Count: 3,226 Warning: Some sexual themes <3  Author's Note: Very much inspired by the song “Happier” by Marshmello and Bastille, and I highly recommend listening to it while reading! This isn't a songfic but this fic would not exist without that song 😅 This is my first time writing for Peter B. so I hope I kept him in character! Please let me know what you think 😊 Also: it starts off sad but it ends happy I promise!! Oh, and Reader is essentially Mary Jane in this <3 

Peter knew you were unhappy, and he knew that something had to change.

He could see the tiredness in your eyes, and the enthusiasm you had always greeted him with had waned considerably in the last few months.

Being married to Spider-Man had taken its toll on you.

You only got to sleep next to your husband at night once a week, twice if you were lucky. Even during the day, your schedules never seemed to line up. You'd get called in to work on days you were supposed to spend together, or there'd be an emergency that Peter would have to go take care of during a date.

You knew that being married to a superhero wouldn't be easy, but you never could've imagined just how hard and draining it would be. Still, you loved Peter, and you couldn't picture your life without him, so you were determined to make things work.

Things only got worse when you brought up having kids, and Peter shot you down immediately.

“I'm not ready for kids yet, __y/n__.” Peter admitted, and you crossed your arms over your chest in annoyance.

“We've been married for eight years already, Peter. I'm almost 30. I want to have kids while I still have the energy to play with them.”

“I understand that.” Peter said gently. “But I'm just...not ready.” Peter didn't know how to admit that he was terrified of being unable to keep you and your child safe.

“Peter…” You frowned, grabbing his chin and making him look you in the eye. “Do you want to start a family with me?”

Peter did; he wanted it more than anything. He could picture you pregnant, and he knew you’d be glowing the whole time. He could see you making sure every detail of the nursery was perfect. He could see you cradling the child you’d created together in your arms, and he knew that even though you’d be exhausted from giving birth, you would still be the most beautiful woman in the world. He could hear little feet running around the house, could see your children growing up.

But he also saw Kingpin, Doc Oc, Prowler, Green Goblin, and all the other bad guys he had fought over the years, and he knew exactly what they would do if they found out Spider-Man had a child.

If anything were to happen to you, or your child, Peter would never forgive himself.

So he lied, even though he could feel his heart breaking in the process.

“No.”

You withdrew your hand from his chin like you'd been burned, and Peter could see the unshed tears that you were frantically trying to blink back.

He didn't stop you as you stormed into the bedroom. Peter could hear you throwing things into your suitcase, and he had to plant his feet firmly on the ground to restrain himself from going in there and telling you the truth.

This was better for you both.

You came out with your suitcase packed, and Peter could see the shiny tear tracks glistening on your cheeks.

You stared at each other for a long moment, and Peter knew you were giving him a chance to change his mind.

Above all else, Peter needed to keep you safe. And he didn't feel confident he could do that after he became a father.

So Peter stayed silent and pulled you into a tight hug. You made no move to pull away, relaxing into his embrace like you had for years.

After almost a minute, you reluctantly pulled out of the hug. With trembling fingers, you slid your wedding ring off your left hand and gently placed it in Peter's palm.

You could see Peter's lips trembling now, and you had to remind yourself that you would only hurt yourself more in the long run if you stayed.

You wanted kids. You had always wanted kids, and you thought Peter did too, eventually. But if he wasn't willing, for whatever reason, to start a family with you after eight years, you couldn't stay with him and hope that he might change his mind. It wouldn't be fair to either of you.

You leaned in and gave Peter one last long, lingering kiss. You could feel your tears dripping down your cheeks and off your chin before you pulled away.

“I will always love you, Peter Parker.” You murmured softly, brushing away Peter's tears with your thumb.

Peter's tears started falling faster at your words, and you felt your heart fully split in two.

“I'll always love you too.” Peter responded, his hand clenched tightly around your wedding ring.

“Goodbye.” You said sadly, picking up your suitcase and leaving the apartment without looking back.

You knew that if you looked back, you would end up staying. Even though you knew this was what you had to do, it hurt like hell.

As soon as you were gone, Peter felt his legs give out from underneath him. He cried in a heap on the floor for hours before dragging himself to the couch. He knew that his bed wasn't an option; it smelled too much like you, and he would just end up crying again.

Peter fell into a fitful sleep with your wedding ring still held firmly in his fist.

-----

You were grateful that nobody on the subway tried to talk to you, though a few people did offer you sympathetic looks.

You barely made it through the door to your parents’ house before you were sobbing again.

You vaguely registered your mom and dad pulling you into a hug and asking what was wrong.

“Me and Peter…” You struggled to get the words out. “We split up.” You blubbered, appreciating their soothing touch and comforting words as they led you over to the couch.

“What happened, baby?”

“We...-I….-he...he doesn't want to have kids. At least not with me. But I do. I've always wanted to start a family with Peter but I guess he didn't feel the same.”

“Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry. You're welcome to stay here for as long as you want.”

You thanked them, half-listening to the words of support they were giving. You were just so tired, from today, from crying, from everything, and it wasn't long before you drifted to sleep on the couch.

-----

“You want to separate?” Peter asked in surprise as he flipped through the documents. He thought for sure you wanted a divorce.

You smiled sadly at him. “I'm not completely giving up on us yet. If you happen to change your mind...it'll be easier for us if we're not fully divorced.”

Peter felt his heart clench painfully at your words. He wanted more than anything to tell you that he was wrong, that he made a mistake, and that he missed you and wanted you to come home.

But he just couldn't.

Being without you was awful, terrible, and by far the worst thing he'd ever experienced, but at least he knew you were safe.

Peter just gave you a sad smile as he turned the pages, signing and initialing where necessary.

When he was done, he handed the papers back to you. His fingers brushed against yours, and you sucked in a breath. You still felt the spark that had been around ever since you met Peter.

“I'll see you around.” You said shortly, slinging your purse over your shoulder and making your way to the door before Peter could say anything else.

You hadn't meant to leave so abruptly, but being around Peter still hurt too much. The wound was too fresh. Maybe someday you could be friends, but...not yet.

-----

You were surprised when your phone started ringing and you saw that it was Peter's number. You hesitated to answer it. You and Peter had so far only contacted each other by text because it was easier (and less painful) for both of you. Realizing that Peter probably wouldn't have called unless it was important, you hit answer.

“Hello?” You asked politely.

“May's not doing well, can you come over? She wants to see you.” Peter's voice was rough and scratchy, and you knew instantly that he'd been crying.

“Of course.” You were already grabbing your keys and your purse and making your way to the door. “I'll be right over.”

-----

You frowned as Peter opened the door. There were deep circles under his eyes, and his eyes were red and puffy.

You pulled him into a hug without thinking about it, but you knew it was the right thing to do when you felt him relax into your arms.

“Thank you for coming over so quickly.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “Of course, Peter.”

He led you to May's bedroom. She was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, and although she did look like she had a bad case of the flu, she looked normal aside from that.

“Hi, May.” You said softly, and her eyes lit up as she saw you.

“There's my favorite daughter!” She exclaimed cheerfully.

“I'm your only daughter.” You teased, sinking into the seat beside her that you could tell had previously been occupied by Peter.

“And that makes you my favorite.” May took one of your hands in her own, and she frowned when she saw the pale strip of skin on your ring finger where your wedding ring used to be. “Peter, can you go make me some soup?”

Peter looked like he suddenly realized that May was not nearly as sick as he had originally believed, but he nodded and disappeared from the room without a word.

You narrowed your eyes at Aunt May. “Peter made it sound like you were really, really sick.”

“I am sick.” Aunt May said indignantly. “But that boy is a mess without you, __y/n__.”

“You let him think you were more sick than you actually were so he would call me, didn't you?”

Aunt May dismissed you with a wave of her hand. “It sounds so evil when you say it like that. But yes, I did exaggerate my coughing and my temperature a smidge.”

“You really scared him, May.” You scolded her gently.

“I know. But I needed to talk to you.”

“You could've just called me. You know I'd be here in a heartbeat if you needed me.”

“I needed to talk to both of you, and I need you to talk to each other. I might be fine this time around, but I'm not going to live forever, and I want to meet my grandkids.”

Your cheeks flushed. “May, Peter doesn't want kids.”

May clucked her tongue. “Yes, he does. He said he didn't because he's terrified of not being able to protect you or your kids.”

“He-what? Are you sure?”

May nodded, and you immediately stormed into the kitchen.

“Is is true?” You asked angrily, hopeful tears brimming in your eyes.

“Is what true?” Peter fidgeted nervously as he looked at you.

“You do want kids, and you told me you didn't because you're afraid you won't be able to protect us?”

Peter sighed, running a hand down his face. “Yes.”

“I hate you so much.” You hissed, crossing the room and pulling him into a fierce kiss. Peter was too stunned to respond, and you couldn't believe you had forgotten how right kissing Peter felt.

“You're sending me very mixed signals.” Peter murmured as you broke the kiss. His cheeks were bright red.

“You are such an idiot.” Peter opened his mouth to protest, and you shushed him. “We are a team, Peter. You're supposed to trust me. You're supposed to tell me the truth so we don't almost get a fucking divorce”

“I'm sorry.” Peter murmured quietly. “I was just scared.”

“That's why you need to talk to me, Pete.”

“I will. From now on, nothing but the truth.”

“Good.” You said, beaming at him before pulling him into a hug and nuzzling into his neck. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” Peter whispered into your hair. “I'm really sorry.”

“I know. But, fair warning, I’m never going to stop bringing up how you almost DESTROYED OUR MARRIAGE, especially to our kids.”

Peter groaned in feigned annoyance before your words registered. “You still want to have kids with me?”

You rolled your eyes. “I told you I'd always love you, Peter. Of course I still want to have kids with you.”

You weren't expecting the tears that started dripping down Peter's cheeks at your words.

“I love you so much.” Peter didn't let you respond before his hands were on your hips, and he tugged you into a deep kiss. “I don't deserve you.”

“Yes you do.” You disagreed immediately.

“I broke your heart.” Peter said, and just saying the words made him feel sick.

“You broke your own, too.” You pointed out before cupping his cheeks and making him look at you. “Peter, you were just doing what you thought was best. Obviously I disagree with the way you did it, and it'll take some time before we're back to normal, but it's okay. We're gonna be okay.” You assured him, succeeding in making him cry harder.

You let Peter cry against your shoulder, stroking his hair soothingly, until he seemed to run out of tears.

“I'm so sorry.” Peter said again, and you gave him a soft smile.

“I told you Pete, it's okay.” You pressed a sweet kiss to his salty lips. “I'm glad I can kiss you again. I really missed that.”

“Me too.” Peter murmured softly, digging around in the pocket of his sweatpants before pulling out your wedding ring. “May I?” He asked, holding it at the tip of your ring finger.

You nodded before asking breathlessly “You kept my wedding ring in your pocket?”.

Peter smiled sheepishly as he slid it onto your finger. “I wanted to have it in case I needed it.”

You felt several tears escape from your eyes at the gesture. “I love you. I can't believe we're finally going to start a family together.”

“I love you too.” Peter responded, his eyes brighter and happier than you remembered ever seeing them before. “Wanna go practice?” Peter asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and trying to make you laugh.

You playfully smacked his arm at the same time Aunt May called out “I heard that!”, anyway.

Peter rolled his eyes and turned off the stove, pouring May’s soup into a bowl before bringing it to her on a tray.

You could hear muffled angry whispers between the two before May loudly exclaimed “I just saved your marriage and I'm the bad guy?”

You fought the grin from sneaking up on your face as Peter sheepishly trudged back into the kitchen.

“May said now that we're done being idiots, we can leave.”

You chuckled and laced your fingers through his as you made your way to the door.

“Don't come back unless you're pregnant!” May hollered from her bedroom.

Your and Peter's cheeks flushed immediately.

“May!” Peter whined, hastily opening the front door and gently pushing you through it before slamming it behind him. “Sorry about that.”

You shrugged and pulled him into a kiss. Peter kissed you back immediately, his large hands cupping your cheeks while you stepped closer so that you were flush against him.

“I guess we'd better start practicing.” You purred, and Peter's eyes widened before darkening.

“If that's what you want.” Peter said breathlessly, and you smiled mischievously as you began walking towards the subway.

“You'll find out once we get home.” You called out over your shoulder, and your world was turned upside down as Peter snuck up from behind you and tossed you over his shoulder.

He started running, and you just chuckled at his impatience, admiring the view.

“I can feel you staring at my ass, you know.” Peter said smugly, and you rolled your eyes.

“So? It's not like you mind.”

“It's just very flattering, that's all. My view is pretty good too.” Peter said teasingly, and you bit down a moan as Peter's hand smoothed your skirt down.

“Will you just hurry up and get us home?”

“Yes, ma'am. Or should I say Mrs. Parker?”

“I never stopped being Mrs. Parker.” You answered softly, even as your heart swelled at his words.

As you arrived at the subway, Peter finally deposited you on your feet in front of him. There was a gentle smile on his face. “I know. It’s just nice to be able to call you that again.”

“It’s nice to be called that again.” You agreed and laced your fingers with his, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. You were practically sitting on Peter’s lap the entire ride home, impatiently waiting to get back to your apartment.

You and Peter bolted out of the subway the second the train stopped.

“I’ll race you home!” You singsonged, sprinting ahead of Peter. Peter groaned and started running too, but he was panting and huffing as he finally reached the door to the apartment, where you were waiting.

“You’ve gotten slow.” You teased, gently poking his round tummy.

Peter’s cheeks flushed. “It’s been...really tough without you.” Peter admitted, crossing his arms over his stomach. “I’ll get back in shape soon.”

You frowned and uncrossed his arms, splaying your fingers across his stomach possessively. “Who said anything about that? I like the tummy. A lot.”

“Oh. Really?” Peter asked hopefully, his eyes wide, and you leaned in to peck his lips.

“Yes, really. Now unlock the door. There’s another part of you that I like a lot and would love to reacquaint myself with.”

Peter’s hands were shaking as he tried to put the key in the lock. You pressed your chest against his back and helped him insert the key.

“Relax, Peter, it’s just me.” You said soothingly, and Peter swallowed roughly before turning the key and pushing the door open.

“What if I mess up again?” Peter asked softly, dropping onto the bed with a sigh as you shut and locked the door behind you. “I can’t lose you again.”

“You’re going to mess up.” You admitted, and Peter’s face fell. “I will too. We’re only human, and everyone makes mistakes sometimes.” You climbed onto his lap, delighting in the way his hands instantly wound around your waist. “But you’re stuck with me. I won’t be leaving again if I can help it.”

Peter smiled and ran his fingers through your hair before pulling you into a needy kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You murmured back, and you were pleasantly surprised when Peter flipped you over and began inching his way down your body.

“Let me show you how much.”

“I’m gonna be pregnant by the end of the night, aren’t I?” You asked, your head feeling warm and dizzy at the prospect.

“That is the plan, yes.” Peter answered teasingly and began pressing kisses to your inner thighs.

“Can’t wait.” You breathed out, feeling incredibly excited to start this new chapter of your life with Peter.

You couldn’t wait to start a family with Peter, and although it was happening a few years later than you originally planned on, you were so unbelievably happy that it was finally happening.

End. <3