#i love malcolm tucker he can do no wrong

[thekingofspin]

malcolm tucker could say the most terrible offensive thing possible and I'd still be watching him like:

[gingerteaonthetardis]

Ok! So! Prompt time: emotional hurt/comfort + Malcolm x Hannah (or twelve x rose but it’s more fun to see Malcolm in this situation) BUT it’s Hannah (or Rose) who needs some serious comfort.

oh, i love this prompt!! so much!! i went with rose & tucker for this one because i had an idea come to me right away for them, hope you don't mind. also, please be advised that this fic involves grief over a canon character death.

enjoy!

to read on ao3, click here!

-

The morning of November 7th dawns cold and pale, with his mobile buzzing angrily toward the edge of his nightstand and no Rose beside him.

Now, Malcolm Tucker is not a romantic by even the most vigorous stretch of the imagination, but only one of those two things feels like an emergency.

He silences his mobile.

Sliding out of bed, he reaches for a jumper—a deep, rich shade of green he never would have picked for himself—and pads across the bedroom toward the hissing sound of the shower running.

One thing he's learned about Rose in the course of their… entanglement—is that she is not a morning person. Her aversion to alarm clocks is on par with his reaction to phone calls from Number 10 these days. As in, there's usually a lot of swearing involved, maybe some hives.

But if Rose being awake at this hour is unusual, her being conscious enough to shower is unheard of. Which makes it either a miracle on par with loaves and fishes, or a catastrophe.

"Rose?"

She gives no answer, or at least, not one that he can make out over the spray of water. But the door is cracked, and he pushes it open further to get a better look. It takes him several seconds to recognise why the air feels wrong: it's cold.

There's no steam billowing out from behind the curtain, and the unexpected draft indicates that the little porthole window behind her is open. An icy feeling slices through him, unrelated to the chill autumn air.

"Rose," he says again, a little more sharply. "Are you in there? Is this some kind of horror film set-up we're doing? You should know I've never seen Psycho."

There's confirmation of life in the sound of a sniffle, which could be a laugh but—his chest tightens—probably isn't.

"Don't come in," she mumbles.

"Why, have you got a knife?"

"That's not what h-happens in Psycho."

Mouth falling into a grim line at the unsteadiness of her voice, he reaches for the curtain.

"Okay, what the fuck is going—"

Shit. His heart does something his cardiologist probably would not like, and his hand falls limp at his side. Shit, and also fuck.

Because Rose is sitting in the very corner of the tub, down to her knickers and the ringer shirt he'd lent her to sleep in. She's curled up there, like she's trying to be a tiny ball instead of a person.

"Jesus Christ, have you lost your mind?" he snaps. "It's fucking freezing in here." When he reaches through the shower spray to touch her, he hisses at the temperature and withdraws. The water's cold, too. Frigid.

She bundles tighter into herself. "Just go, Malcolm, please."

His jaw locks.

Yeah, there's no way in hell he's going to just turn around and prance off to make his morning coffee while his… whatever-she-is has some kind of meltdown in his fucking shower that apparently requires subarctic temperatures.

"It's my bathroom, actually, so I think I'll stay, thanks," he shoots back, not bothering to regulate his tone.

For someone who has spent approximately twenty-three hours of every day in a state of unhinged stress for the last two decades, he is aware he should probably be hardened to the feeling by now. The two years he's been out of the business isn't nearly enough time for the conditioning to fade. But for some reason, seeing Rose in this condition has him reeling like it's his first press tour. His mouth takes off without his permission.

"I mean, talk about psycho. Is this some kind of new beauty routine I don't know about, like kiwi fucking facials and sperm hair treatments? 'Cause I have to say, I don't care for this particular trend. You'll freeze your perfectly lovely tits off, for one thing. And for another, you—Rose?"

He stops short, watching a tremble travel through her. It's like the ground during an earthquake, moments before a fissure opens—before damage becomes destruction. Unsalvageable.

She's trying not to cry. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Okay, you're actually scaring me now," he says, voice going flat. "What's happening here? Do I need to call a doctor? A psychic?" Her chin jerks up, and she stares at him with reddened eyes. "A priest?"

"No." The word is harsh, but he doesn't give a shit, because she comes a little back to life as she says it. Her eyes flare up at him beneath clotted, dark lashes. "I'm n-not possessed. God. You're so—I just… need a minute, all right?"

"Well, I'm sorry, darling, I don't think you have a minute before hypothermia sets in. You're turning fucking blue."

She seems intent on ignoring him—or perhaps she's just ignoring reality in general—because she promptly buries her face in her arms again, where they're crossed over her bare knees.

He's not lying; there is a strange lavender cast to her toes, her kneecaps, the tips of her fingers. She looks like a wax doll version of herself. But if she won't do anything about it, it's apparently fucking up to him.

Sighing, he braves the frigid shower spray again to reach for the knob, turning it towards the heated side. A new rush of warmer water soaks his sleeve.

So much for his nice, cosy morning plans.

"Look, just tell me what's going on," he tells her slowly, reaching over her head to tug the window closed, "and then if you really want me to leave you to it, I will."

It takes her about a full minute under the spray to stop shivering—longer for some colour to return to her skin, and even longer than that to answer him.

He knows she's working on it by the flexing of her fingers and toes, the gentle rocking motion she makes as she attempts to build her courage. He knows all the signs. The words are just sitting in there like stones; she's just struggling to pick them up and actually say them. And hell if he hasn't been there before.

Finally, she lifts her head again. Her cheeks are ruddy, and he realises she's been crying for a long time.

"My dad's dead."

Totally lacking in emphasis, her words still hit him like a ton of bricks. A one-two-three punch of deadpan delivery.

"Shit." No, that's not right. His brain is full of fucking smoke alarms. "I'm sorry." Better.

"Yeah." The silence dangles for a second. "It's nothing to do with you."

That takes him out at the kneecaps, and suddenly he's sitting on the lip of the tub, catching his breath. What the hell? "I… didn't think it was." He hesitates before asking, "When?"

Her eyes close. "He died 27 years ago today."

"Jesus. Rose, why didn't you tell me?"

"When exactly was I s-supposed to slip it into conversation, Malcolm?" Her lids bat back open in a second, and she turns her most challenging glare on him. "When you made that stupid joke about daddy issues, was I supposed to go, 'Surprise! My dad did actually die when I was six months old, but please have sex with me anyway'? And then," she barrels on, "we decided we weren't, you know, serious or whatever, and I kept assuming it would… end eventually? But we just kept seeing each other and the date kept creeping up, and I ignored it, because it's not like you're my fucking boyfriend."

The whiplash of her cursing would probably make him laugh if he wasn't feeling so desperately miserable.

"And then I came over last night and you—and then I… decided to stay…" She shakes her head, damp strands of hair whipping against her cheek. There are blueish shadows under her eyes, violently contrasting with the red. "And I thought I could handle it and it would be fine, but then I woke up and I just—I couldn't… I just kept thinking—" and that's the last word that makes it out of her before her air supply seems to shut off. Her chest shudders and her eyes close, and he wants to peck out his own fucking liver for letting this entire awful situation come to be.

"You have to take a breath every now and then," he scolds instead. "Fuck's sake."

To his intense concern, that doesn't even earn him a withering look. Just a continuation of the weird hitching rhythm of her chest. Her hands clench tighter around her knees, dimpling the skin with pale half-moons. Looking at her is borderline unendurable.

He groans. "Fuck this." And then he swings around over the ledge of the tub, kicking his limbs inside, where they are immediately soaked.

It's a big enough tub—compared to the size of his flat, the shower stall is almost impractically decadent—but it's not really meant for two. A fact he is keenly aware of as he goes to his knees beside Rose's shivering, twitching body.

Careful, he takes her by the shoulders and turns her around, then he spreads his knees as far as he's able—thanking hell he didn't decide to change into denims before this—so she can sort of sit in between them. He pulls her in until her curved back touches his chest.

The cotton clinging to her is still too cool, and he is grateful for the hot spray that continues to fall around them. At least, if they're going to be wet through, they can still share some goddamned body heat.

It's with this goal in mind that he wraps his arms around her—his whole body, hunching in over the snarled knot of her form. Letting their breathing fall into a shared, slower rhythm. "That's it," he feels himself say, like he's down some tunnel, far away from himself. "Just breathe with me, there's a girl."

He doesn't know how long they sit there like that: long enough for his knees to begin aching, and for the air to go humid against his nose, soft with the smell of her hair.

Her shampoo is sunny, somehow. Citrus, with something fresh and green.

"This is fucking ridiculous," he mumbles eventually. "You should have told me."

"I—" she starts, but he squeezes.

"Yes, yes. I should have made it easier for you to tell me, I know," he grinds out. "I'm an arsehole. And I shouldn't have said that shite about our ages either, because it only called attention to what's basically obvious to anyone with one or more eyes in their head. Which is that you can do far, far fucking better than me."

The worst part, which he does not mention, is that he hadn't even fucking meant anything by that whole 'daddy issues' bit. It had just felt expected, somehow—after the zoo that was his trial and with the zombie horde dogging his steps post-acquittal, he'd felt like an acknowledgement had to be made in case some hack wearing a wire was sitting nearby, just waiting to turn her relative youth and incredible beauty into a new headline in a smear piece.

The disgraced former spin doctor desperately pawing at a woman half his age would undoubtedly make a good photo op. So instead, he'd been snotty and perverse. And now he's paying for it.

Worse, she's paying for it.

"You should, by the way," he adds, feeling her hand squeeze back, curled somewhere around his wrist. "I'm serious. Anyone would be better. A fucking dogcatcher with a furs shop. A monk. I could set you up with fucking Ollie Reeder, so long as you don't mind that he's gay."

To his relief, she actually snorts. It's a laugh, liquified and wobbly, but real. "Oh, shut up."

"And I… I'm sorry about your dad." He swallows, having to force down a new wave of panic—not to do with her, this time. It's all him.

He braids their fingers together, feeling like a fucking pansy and trying to focus on the drumming water against his back. He so rarely fears inadequacy, but this is one area in which he's failed again and again and again.

He's been reliably informed that he is not a comforting presence.

"I really am, darling," he adds weakly.

"It was a long time ago," she says. "I barely even remember him."

"That doesn't make it easier, does it?"

Half of him waits for her to stiffen or recoil, while the logical part of his brain is forced to admit that Rose would never. She's far too kind.

That's always been his issue, really. She's just so goddamn kind, and he could kick himself in the head for taxing that. Keeping her at arm's length when she obviously doesn't want to be, making her feel like the showerhead would be a better listener. Christ.

She breathes deep instead, and her body unfolds itself until her head is resting on his chest.

"No," she admits. A long exhale. "It really doesn't."

The air is properly foggy now. Her skin is pink where he can see it. But he doesn't let go of her, and she gives no indication of wanting him to. He can feel the grief subsiding in the air, sucked down the drain.

That's the way of it: it comes in waves. And when it's gone, you might not resemble who you were before it.

"Ollie Reeder," she says, some indefinable time later. "God. I would literally rather donate my vagina to the National Trust. That's repulsive."

He kisses her shoulder, wishing fleetingly that it was bare. "Accept my apology."

"You know you didn't actually apologise for anything," she scoffs, sounding more and more like herself. "Except for my dad which, according to a near-thirty-year-old police report, you had nothing to do with."

But he kisses her again, and again, and she sighs. He likes to think she does so at least a little bit because it feels nice.

"Of course I forgive you, dickhead." He puffs a laugh against her, tightening his grip, and she settles into it like a cat in a sunray. Fucking unbelievable. "I know we haven't… really talked about it properly, Malcolm, but I—I mean, I get it, you know?" Two of her fingers fiddle with his damp sleeve. "Neither of us is particularly trusting."

"Understatement of the millennium."

"But I want to," she goes on, words seizing his heart in his chest. Seriously, Dr. Jones is going to kill him at their next appointment. "Trust you, I mean. Is that stupid?"

Her bones under his hands feel strong and sturdy, and her flesh is as forgiving as the rest of her, and he finally allows himself to feel all the fear he's been keeping at bay since the moment they met on that street corner, two in the morning. It had felt like a colossal fuck-up waiting to happen, or like an undeserved stay of execution.

"Yes," he answers shortly. "Probably so." He clears his throat, the sound feeling too loud in the close space. "But at least we're on equal idiot footing."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the motion of her cheeks, and when she tilts her head up to look at him, she's smiling. Blotchy and sweet.

Malcolm Tucker is not a romantic man. He's just fucking not. But he'd swear up and down in a court of law that he could get lost in Rose Tyler's gaze and be perfectly happy for it.

His fear fades into a background hum, suddenly fucking unimportant. He feels himself soften in ways he's still figuring out how to allow.

After a moment, her tongue slides between her teeth. "You've really never seen Psycho?"

He rolls his eyes with a groan. "What is with this generation and your relentless nostalgia?" he complains. "There are about five hundred brand new superhero movies to choose from and you want to watch some old—"

With her hands on his for balance, Rose pushes up a little, stretches her spine, and shuts him up with a kiss.

[deepspacedukat]

Of course, nonny! Gotta love the protective armory officer! Pretty boy…I went for a slightly softer mix of soft and protective with this one, so I hope you like it! (Also somehow tumblr deleted this the first time around, so here we go. Second time’s the charm! Cross-posted to AO3 here.

If anyone wants to be added to my taglist or wants to submit a fic request, my ask box is always open! If you want to know whether I write for a certain character, have a look here. If the character you want isn’t on the list, I probably just forgot to add them, so please feel free to ask.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Safe And Sound

Malcolm Reed (ST:ENT) x Reader

[A/N: Mal is precious and I wanna cuddle him so…yeah, this was a totally necessary author note lol.]

Warnings: Slightly dangerous situation, but everything works out.

~*~

As the guard locked the door to our cell, I hoped the Enterprise was aware that something was wrong. Myself, Commander Tucker, and T’Pol had been on an away mission that was supposedly going to be peaceful. The leader of the district had granted us permission to visit the surface, but had apparently revoked it just as we were descending. The only warning we received was when we were almost shot out of the sky by the local aircraft.

We’d put up a bit of a fight before the guards managed to drag us to the cell we were currently locked inside, so all three of us were sporting minor injuries of some sort. Trip had a nasty looking cut across his cheek, T’Pol had a bruise forming on her jaw, and I had a busted lip. All three of us were awaiting some sort of ominous sounding interrogation.

“Everybody okay?” Trip asked, and we both answered in the affirmative. “The Cap’n should be lookin’ for us soon. We were supposed to check in with Enterprise as soon as we reached the base and we never did. I betcha Malcolm is settin’ up an away team right now.”

With a small nod, I took a seat like T’Pol had and started thinking of potential ways out. Barely an hour and a half had passed when we started hearing chaos out in the corridor. Weapons fire echoed all around the small space, and the three of us stood at the ready in case we needed to fight. There was a small window in the cell door about six inches across, and a familiar face popped up behind it.

“There you are,�� a very British accent blurted before the door was shot open. Malcolm ushered us out the door and we hurried after him to the awaiting shuttlepod. “Get us out of here, Travis!”

The pod lifted off and I allowed a small sigh of relief to escape my lips. A warm hand landed gently on my shoulder, making me turn my head to see Malcolm looking at me with concern.

“Ensign, are you alright?” He asked quietly, and I gave him a small smile.

“Nothing a shower and a visit to sickbay won’t fix,” I said as reassuringly as I could manage, but his brow was still furrowed as his eyes swept slowly over my lips. “I’m fine, Mal. I’ll live.”

“As soon as we dock, I’m taking you directly to sickbay,” he said, but I shook my head.

“You’ll be needed on the bridge. I can get there myself,” I said placing my hand over his. He started to argue but a signal came through the comm system.

“Archer to Shuttlepod One. Lieutenant Reed, as soon as the pod docks we need you up on the bridge. Doesn’t look like these guys are giving up our officers without a fight.”

Malcolm sighed but responded with his usual “Yes, Captain.” That didn’t stop him from giving my hand a little squeeze as we entered the docking bay.

--

After Enterprise had managed to escape, I found myself in sickbay with Doctor Phlox looking me over one last time.

“Alright, Ensign, that seems to be everything I can do for you at the present. If there are any more injuries you discover or if you need anything for the last of the bruising, come see me again,” Phlox said with a little smile just as the door slid open. Malcolm saw me and rushed over, catching my hand with his.

“I’m so sorry, I should have been here from the start. Is she alright, Doctor?” Malcolm sounded like a worried mother hen. I’d never known him to be this anxious before.

“As I was just saying to the Ensign, her injuries were all superficial. I’ve patched her up the best I can, but there shouldn’t be any lasting damage. She doesn’t have a concussion, either, so I’m more than happy to release her if she’s ready to return to her quarters,” Phlox said looking at him curiously. “There’s no need for concern, Lieutenant. She’s perfectly alright.”

Malcolm looked a little sheepish, but he didn’t let go of my hand.

“Allow me to escort you there. Making sure you get there safely is the least I could do.” Malcolm sounded almost guilty. Did he think he was at fault for me getting hurt? Before I could protest that he didn’t need to go to all that trouble, he’d put his arm around my waist and led me into the hall.

“Mal? What are you doing?” I asked curiously.

“Taking you back to your quarters-”

“Yes, but why? I’m alright. You don’t need to waste your time with me,” I said coaxing him to a stop when we reached the door to my quarters. He turned to face me with a faint blush on his cheeks.

“I wasn’t able to protect you on the planet or on the way to see Phlox. I...I suppose I wanted to make sure I did one thing right today,” he said quietly, and I felt my heart give a tug at the expression on his face. I reached out and cupped his cheeks gently.

“Malcolm Reed, you listen to me. You haven’t done anything wrong. You saved all three of us today. We’d still be there if you hadn’t come for us. You got us safely back to Enterprise, then defended the ship. You saved all of us,” I said looking into his eyes. Malcolm placed his hands softly over my own and he gave me a look I’d only seen on hopeful puppies. Of all the times I’d wanted to kiss him, the urge had never been stronger than it was now.

So for once I didn’t fight it. I leaned in slowly to give him a chance to pull away.

But he didn’t. My lips met his in the gentlest kiss I could muster, and after a moment’s hesitation, Malcolm was responding eagerly. His hands dropped to my waist drawing me close as he melted slowly into me. He backed me into the door and kissed me for a moment longer before pulling back just far enough to kiss my forehead, cheeks, and nose. His forehead rested softly against mine as we shared a few shaky breaths.

“Those people...They claimed they’d killed the whole team before you even got out of the shuttlepod,” Mal’s voice was unsteady, and when I opened my eyes I saw a single tear rolling slowly down his cheek. “I thought I’d lost you. When Hoshi managed to isolate two human life signs as well as a Vulcan...I’d have moved Heaven and Earth to get you back. I know this isn’t professional, but over our time serving together, I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with you, Ensign.”

“What a coincidence. Y’see...I’ve fallen in love with you too, Lieutenant Reed,” I murmured as a smile stretched across my lips. “Mal? If...If you wouldn’t be uncomfortable with it, would you consider...staying with me tonight?”

“It would be my privilege to protect you so intimately,” he murmured as his lips met mine once more.

[janeyre]

13, 15, 19

13. what’s a piece of canon that you completely disregard whenever you come across it?

OPE. um...! honestly i know this isn't what the question is asking but. i have only watched season three once. i GET that ten is super depressed about rose leaving, and as a dedicated doctorrose-ie, i would think it incredibly out of character if he weren't. BUT. it is also an incredible drag, lmao. my favorite parts of doctor who are when it's just dumbasses literally falling through time and space, and following up season two (which was full of laughs and genuine fun) with the main character being emo supreme is just so much. i LOVE martha though, but it's so much easier to watch her in season four because the doctor isn't being such a whiner. lmao.

15. is there a plot line that has ended but that you wish had been expanded on?

hmmmmmm..... honestly i feel like the whole hybrid thing just could have been done better? after twelve spent billions of years working to get clara back, even though he had no reason to believe that he could, him suddenly saying 'oh it's okay that one of us forgets, it's the hybrid!' just seems so silly to me. so i guess it would have been expanded on in some way in the sense that i wish we could have been given more time with clara and twelve, that they could have paused and said 'no we're working ourselves up. neither of us have to forget. how can we fix this?' but also i know that's not how the show works and that we have to refresh the cast. so like. i get it. but in a perfect world, they would have figured it out !

19. nuwho gets a designated one f-bomb per season. who gets to use it and when?

OOOOO. okay.

season 1: after nine regenerates, the first thing rose says is a deadpan, under-her-breath 'what the fuck?'

season 2: in doomsday i would make rose angrier/more defiant and say 'i made my choice a long time ago and i am never going to fucking leave you.'

season 3: martha gets to choose. one of the times the doctor is being unbearable about rose she says 'shut the fuck up'

season 4: any time donna says 'flip' she's actually saying fuck. literally you cannot limit me to just one. but if i had to choose it be would in the lowest stakes possible. donna's earned it.

season 5: in the eleventh hour when the doctor turns up again for the first time amy says 'where the fuck have you been'

season 6: at any given point during the impossible astronaut during any given dialogue amy says 'you don't fucking tell me what to do'

season 7: in journey to the centre of the tardis right when the doctor and clara burst through the door and almost run off the cliff, and then he rounds on her and is like 'TELL ME WHO YOU ARE' clara's like 'WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU'

season 8: during deep breath at any of the points when the doctor is fucking off and clara is trying to pin him down she's like 'you've got to be fucking joking'

season 9: at one point during hell bent the doctor gets a moment to really let lose on the high and mighty time lords and does the malcolm tucker 'you cannot fuck me! you cannot fuck me! i am unfuckable! i have never been fucked! and if you fucking try and fuck me, you'll find my fucking arse will grow fucking fangs -- AND FUCKING SNAP YOUR FUCKING COCK OFF'

season 10: when bill goes on that first trip and they end up in australia and right as she steps off the tardis she goes 'oh fuck no'

season 11: in the woman who fell to earth, when the doctor realizes she doesn't have her screwdriver she goes 'awh fuck'

season 12: in praxeus when ryan says 'you're full of something graham' graham says 'oh fuck off'

season 13: in the halloween apocalypse when dan first gets to watch the doctor and yaz riffing off each other he goes 'what are you two FUCKING talking about'

thank you!!1

[finniestoncrane]

share ten different favorite characters from ten different pieces of media in no particular order Then send this to 10 people (anon or not, your choice) 🎥🎬📺 <3

oh god who wants to look at a list of characters i want to bone ?? ;-;

and please anyone who sees this do and say i tagged you so i can see who you love so i can add them to my pile 💚

the mean green beans. i am counting them as one singular character from the general batman franchise, that way i get more bang for my buck (especially if i'm limited to one rogue ;-;)

nick from left 4 dead2. i have been down bad for this man longer than i've even known by husband.

trevor, gtav. he's disgusting and i want him carnally in the back of a pick-up truck.

walter skinner, x-files. daddy. the body hair, the glasses, the bald head, the trench coats, the regular yelling at/choking mulder?

egon spengler/jilliann holtzman. i refuse to choose, this is my list and i wanna bang both of the hotties from ghostbusters fuck you

pam poovey, archer. god i wanna bang pam. just two big gals going at each other i am drooling

dale cooper, twin peaks. he does a lot of things to me. i love him so much. perfect gentleman? likes pie? tidy hair!?

beetlejuice. i loudly shout on a regular basis that michael keaton is only hot when he's a rotting corpse and i'm not wrong.

harry hart, kingsman. colin firth is hot as fuck man, the suit and the glasses and the fuckin fight scenes? wet.

malcolm fuckin tucker, the thick of it. i want to be degraded, humiliated, my self-worth destroyed.

[brilliantlycute]

My favourite Star Trek quotes:

In honour of Star Trek`s 55th birthday:

“This vessel... I give, she takes. She won`t permit me my life, I`ve got to live hers.” - James T. Kirk

“I have been, and always shall be your friend.” - Spock

“You treat her like a lady... and She`ll always bring you home.” - Leonard McCoy

“I`ll have him eating out of my hand, and I`ll meet you at the rendezvous point. Oh! and Admiral: all my hopes.” - Nyota Uhura

“WHATTAYA STANDING AROUND FOR! Ye not know a jailbreak when ye SEE one???” - Montgomery Scott

“Those two men on trial I served with them for a long time. I owe them my life a dozen times over. (...) they`re in trouble and I`m going to help them; regulations be damned.” - Hikaru Sulu

“We are on an enemy wessel; I do not wish to get shot down on the way to our own funeral.” - Pavel Chekov

"It is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose. That is not a weakness; that is life.” - Jean Luc Picard

“Fate protects fools, little children, and ships named Enterprise.” - William T. Riker

“Confidence is faith in oneself. It can`t be easily be given by another.” - Deanna Troi

“It is the struggle itself that is most important. We must strive to be more than we are. It does not matter that we will never reach our ultimate goal. The effort yields its own rewards.” - Data

“You know, I`ve never seen a sunrise... at least, not the way you see them.” - Geordi La Forge

“Perhaps today is a good day to die! Prepare for ramming speed!” - Worf

“If there is nothing wrong with me, maybe there`s something wrong with the universe.” - Beverly Crusher

“When a man is convinced he`s going to die tomorrow, he`ll probably find a way to make it happen.” - Guinan

“That is the exploration that awaits you: Not mapping stars and studying nebula, but charting the unknown possibilities of existence.” - Q

“The most profound discoveries are not necessarily beyond that next star. They`re within us, woven into the threads that bind us, all of us, to each other.” - Jonathan Archer

“You think that the loss of a colleague or a friend doesn`t affect us? It does, but if we give in to those emotions, they overwhelm us. You`re the ones to be envied.” - T `pol

“You can all go straight to Hell!” - Charles ´Trip` Tucker III

“Deception and surprise can be just as potent as brute force.” - Malcolm Reed

“It took a while, but I finally found my space legs.” - Hoshi Sato

“If you`re going to try to embrace new worlds, you must try to embrace new ideas.” - Phlox

“I lived on Earth for more than thirty years (...) I developed an affinity for your world and its people.” - Soval

“The real world doesn`t always adhere to logic: Sometimes down is up, sometimes up is down, and sometimes when you`re lost, you`re found.” - Michael Burnham

“I saw hope, in the stars. It was stronger than fear. And I went towards it.” - Saru

“At the quantum level, there is no difference between biology and physics (...) spores. What are they? (...) They are the building blocks of energy across the universe. Physics and biology? No; physics as biology.” - Paul Stamets

“It`s never good-bye (...) Nothing in here is truly gone. I believe in you, Paul. I love you. Follow the music, Paul. Look for the clearing in the forest. Open your eyes.” - Hugh Culber

“When people who are supposed to care about you don`t listen to you, it`s frightening and it`s lonely, and it makes you feel like you are crazy or like you`re like not even there. I get that.” - Sylvia Tilly

“Battle is not a simulation. It`s blood and screams and funerals. We don`t start shooting on a hunch. And we don`t take innocent lives, period.” - Capt. Philippa Georgiou

“It`s going to hurt. And I`d like to hear you scream, now.” - Emperor Philippa Georgiou

“Be bold. Be brave. Be courageous. Black Alert.” - Christopher Pike

[triptuckers]

Starlight - Trip Tucker

One word request: Trip Tucker + Starlight A/N: I liked writing this! also I miss trip I should rewatch ent asap. enjoy reading! :)

‘Trip.’ you say rather firmly.  ‘What?’ he says innocently. ‘Remove your hand from my ass.’ you say. ‘Was just helping you up.’ says Trip. ‘We are on duty.’ you whisper-shout at him.

You are currently stuck in a jefferies tube, doing some small repairs. Trip, your boyfriend, thought he’d help you up. You’re lucky no crew member saw you. Your relationship with Trip is still a secret, though you feel like any day Trip could expose you because he’s such a damn tease. Can’t seem to keep his hands to himself for one minute. 

‘Whatever you say, starlight.’ says Trip, and he lets go of you. You roll your eyes and continue to work. You’re officially not an engineer, you’re a science officer. However, you’re often found in engineering when Trip needs an extra hand and suddenly all of the other engineers are busy or not on duty.

You know it’s an excuse to spend time with him. And though you’re grateful for every moment you get to spend with him, you did tell him he can’t ask you to come down to engineering every time the two of you are on duty. Simply because people would start to notice. 

When you’re done with the repairs, you get down and hand the tools back to Trip. ‘All fixed.’ you say. ‘Next time you need someone to climb into the jefferies tube, you can ask Hoshi, she’s shorter than me, I had to squeeze myself in there.’

Trip raises his eyebrows at you and you laugh. ‘Kidding.’ you say. ‘I’m always happy to help out my favorite engineer.’ 

You quickly look around the room. There’s a handful of crew members, but they’re all busy with their tasks, not paying attention to you and Trip. Therefore, you quickly lean in and kiss Trip’s cheek. 

‘See you at dinner.’ you say cheerfully before leaving engineering. 

Though you and Trip try your best to keep your relationship private, the two of you figured there’d be nothing wrong with the two of you having dinner in the mess hall. Half of the time, other crew members joined you, and it would be weird if you started avoiding each other.

And, on top of getting to spend time with each other, if you had been working late, you could take a walk around the ship without anyone seeing you. Given that private moments rarely happened, taking a walk after you finish having dinner had always been your favorite activity to do with Trip.

Luckily, today is one of those late shifts. Though you’re exhausted, you’re happy when you and Trip finish dinner and you can go for a short walk. There’s still a few people working, and you don’t want to be caught holding hands. You do walk very close to him, though.  

You’re telling Trip a funny story about your time at the Academy. You and Hoshi, your roommate at the time, had gotten in trouble at a bar and there just so happened to be a highly ranked officer present, who saw the whole thing. 

But when you look to your left to see Trip’s reaction, you’re sure he didn’t listen to a thing you said. He looks at you and there’s a smile on his lips.

‘Did you hear what I just said?’ you ask him. ‘Nah.’ he says truthfully. ‘Was too busy lookin’ at you.’ You chuckle and playfully roll your eyes. ‘Do you ever hear a word I say?’ you say. ‘Yea, ‘course.’ says Trip. ‘You look beautiful, starlight.’

You jump a bit when someone clears their throat. You look over Trip’s shoulder and see none other than Captain Archer, as well as Malcolm. Your eyes widen in horror and you look at Trip, hoping he knows how to get out of this. Trip turns around, looking at Archer and Malcolm.

‘Uh- what I meant was... the light from the stars. It’s really beautiful from this side of the ship.’ says Trip, stuttering. 

‘Yeah.’ you say, joining his story. ‘It’s like it’s brighter from this side of the ship.’ You quickly turn your head to look at Trip. ‘Do you still need me to help fix that thing in engineering, commander?’ you say, trying to sign with your eyes without Archer and Malcolm noticing.

‘Yep.’ he says. ‘Yeah, I definitely need help with that thing. Shall we?’ ‘Right away.’ you say and you quickly walk past Archer and Malcolm, closely followed by Trip.

Archer and Malcolm look at the two of you as you and Trip make your way to engineering. Once you’re out of their hearing range, Malcolm turns to Archer.

‘Do they really not know we figured them out a long time ago?’ says Malcolm. ‘Apparently not.’ says Archer, failing to suppress a smile.  ‘We should tell them, right?’ says Malcolm. ‘That we know?’ ‘Or we could just let it rest for a little while longer.’ says Archer, a slightly amused tone in his voice. ‘Let’s see if he accidentally calls her starlight when there’s other crew members around. I have a feeling Trip is going to let it slip, I’d bet on it.’

Malcolm holds out his hand to captain Archer. ‘I think Y/N is the one to let it slip. Want to actually bet on it?’ he says. ‘You’re on.’ says Archer and he shakes Malcolm’s hand.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Jo

[triptuckersbf]

Reunion

This blog is going to be the home for my Tucker/Me fics. They’re entirely self indulgent. You don’t have to read them if you don’t want. But I want to get this out there.

Setting: In which Trip Tucker and his ex bf decide to get back together after a few years apart.

I caught sight of him through the crowd. The chaos of the crowd swirling around us. Family, friends, and the general public milled about, waiting to catch a glimpse of the crew of the Enterprise NX-01. The ship had returned from another sojourn, and the crew, now nearly legends, were paying a visit to San Francisco. They probably intended to enjoy some shore leave, or spend time on their own, but the general public had other plans.

But with family and friends mobbing the blue-uniformed officers, I noticed there was a distinct empty space around three people: T’Pol, Malcolm Reed, and Trip Tucker. I didn’t want to stare, but he stands out in a crowd, so I couldn’t help it.

I did panic slightly when he looked my way and caught my gaze. He froze, stunned, then his face broke into that smile I’d loved so much. I froze, not knowing if I should go and talk to him, or just wave from a distance. He turned to his friends, said something, and then moved my way.

I wanted to appear calm and nonchalant, eager to see him, but I think my face gave away all my secrets because his smile just got wider.

“Hi,” I said, sounding like a fawning idiot.

“Hey you,” he said. He moved to hug me, hesitated. I tried to hug him, but stopped. Finally, Trip sighed and said, “It’s a hug. Let’s start with that.”

And soon I was back in his arms. And it felt like coming come.

“I missed that.” I said, my voice shy.

“Me too,” he said, pulling away. “Is that bad? Wasn’t I suppose to not miss that?”

I shrugged. “I never stopped missing it.” I smiled a little guiltily.

“Yeah,” he said, looking at a loss for words.

“I can let you go,” I said. “I know you’re busy and probably have things to do.”

“Not really,” he admitted. “Cap’n Archer’s the one who’s busy. The rest of us were planning on enjoying some R and R.”

I nodded. “I don’t want to keep you.”

“It’s okay,” he said, his manner easy.

“Is it?” I said, not wanting to fall into any traps. “When we ended things…”

He immediately held up both hands. “You don’t need to do that. We ended things on good terms. You needed time. And my job kept me away from you so much, anyways.”

I nodded. “I guess I just didn’t want to give any wrong ideas.”

“What if you did?”

I froze. “What?”

He just shrugged and gave me a look like the answer was obvious.

“Aren’t you leaving soon?” I asked, having flashbacks to our last conversation.

“You can come with me.”

“Trip,” I sighed after a moment of silence where I tried to catch up to his train of thought. “You’re not thinking this through. I’m a civilian. You’re a chief engineer. There’s no room in Enterprise for a passenger. Besides, we just met again after three years. Picking up right where we left off feels…”

“Right?”

I smiled. “Impulsive. What about your plans for the future? Adding me back into the mix without thinking about it? How’s that going to change things? And what about my job? I’m…”

“A writer?”

“Well yeah, but I have a…I don’t know. I have obligations.” The word was a placeholder for “I have nothing tying me to Earth right now,” and he knew it.

He placed both hands on my shoulders and stared me right in the eye. “We had something good together. And I understood our reasons for separating. It made sense. But things have been kind of up in the air for me, recently, and I could use some stability. But I won’t force you.”

I felt like the world had shifted on its axis. “What would I do on the ship? You don’t need a literature nerd with no combat skills.”

“What about a morale officer?”Trip said, his eyes bright. “You could plan the movie nights and schedule events for the crew. Our next mission looks to be a long one. We could use some fun along the way.”

“This feels like a big step,” I said, not wanting to admit right away that his idea sounded amazing. “And this isn’t just a career decision. Would you be okay with being stuck on the same ship as me?”

“Look, Josh, I would be okay being stuck on a desert island with you. I was crazy about you. I knew you weren’t ready, and I respected your decision. But seeing you here? Now? I felt happier than I have in a while.”

“You’re being impulsive. You’re not thinking this through,” I teased, unable to sound even remotely serious. “Besides, Now I’m going to have to pack up what things I want to bring, that is if Captain Archer even allows me on the ship.”

“He will,” Trip said. “I promise.”

I shoved him back towards the gathering of his crew mates. “Well ask him. Don’t assume. I like certainty.”

“Yeah, I know.” He grinned like an idiot.

“Ask him.”

“Okay! Fine! I will.”

“Do it!”

Trip jogged back to where his captain was. I saw the starship captain shoot me a look and I tried not to look nervous. Captain Archer was one of the most legendary members of Starfleet, and his crew was filled with the best of the best. And here I was planning on jumping into space with them because I just happened to run into an ex boyfriend who seemed wasn’t much of an ex anymore.

When Trip ran back to me, grinning in that dumb golden-retriever way of his, I felt my stomach do a flip. Was this really happening?

I knew what he was going to say before he even said it, but hearing him say, “The captain said yes!” hit me like the burst of pure sunlight that hits you when you step outside in the middle of summer. It didn’t make sense. It was completely irrational. Having loved ones on a starship? What was I thinking?

But when Trip pulled me into a smothering hug, and I felt like everything was right in the universe, I didn’t fight it.

Because I was back with the only boyfriend who had ever meant anything to me, the warmth of his smile casting the years we’d spent apart into sharp relief. How had I existed without him?

He asked me how much time I needed, offered to help me, asked if I was okay bunking with him, asked if I really wanted this, question after question, each coming from a place of love and support.

And so I nodded, and said, “Let’s do this together.”

And that was it.

We were back.

And it felt amazing.

[stardatewiththedevil]

Fine, humans, fly your “starship”

I knew that having to start my stardate-order journey with Enterprise*, which I had never made it more than 20 minutes into before, would be a challenge. But my first foray into 22nd-century Starfleet is leaving me with more questions than answers.

To recap

Earth has a ship capable of Warp 5, but the Vulcans have told them they can’t use it yet. Our hero Jonathan Archer’s dad invented it, but died before he could see it put into use. The Enterprise NX-01 has been collecting dust for 50 years. But when a farmer shoots a stray Klingon, humans finally have the right excuse to ask their Space Daddies for a hall pass!!!!!

The humans of 22nd-century Earth, at least the high-ranking space boys we observe, are cavalier and impulsive, really into some cowboy shit. While it makes sense the Vulcans wouldn’t want Earthlings drunkenly stomping through the galaxy fresh off world unification, it’s pretty surprising that none of these fuckers went rogue and zoomed off into space. But instead they seem to mostly throw tantrums and then ultimately fall in line.

But this time, they throw the correct tantrum! The Vulcans want to kill the unconscious Klingon so he dies with honor, even though he has some kind of message to deliver to his people. They also want to delay a planned launch of the Enterprise over the incident. Archer has had enough and demands that not only are they NOT allowed to kill the Klingon, they have to let him, specifically him, return him to Kronos in the ship nobody has flown yet.

Daddy Vulcan says “ok, but come STRAIGHT home after dropping off the Klingon.” (Spoiler: They don’t!!!!!!)

Charming!

It is literally the first time launching this advanced Warp 5 ship and they’re doing it early, but nothing really goes wrong, hardware-wise, despite what appears to be a reckless lack of testing. Most of the adjustments they’re making are like, adjusting the TV and calibrating weapons arrays.

Everyone seems way too chill with this idea of going extremely fast out in the middle of space where no humans have gone yet. Except Hoshi Sato, Bless you, Hoshi, our queen of having normal feelings.

Up until this point, humans have only been hitting Warp 2, or eight times the speed of light. They’ve also been in contact with the Vulcans for almost a century. Some space travel is in service of colonization (e.g., settling on Mars). But the biggest, longest trips are on freighters, spending sometimes literally years on trade routes within 90 light years of Earth (more than 11 human years away!). As a Warp 5 ship sits docked in Earth’s orbit, children are born and raised on trade routes. (These kids are called “boomers”! I thought they just meant extremely old people or time travelers the first time they said it!)

Still, people are pretty used to being in space and visiting other planets, and have been for 50 years or so. But the Vulcans are maybe the only society present in this sector that have any mobility beyond that—so they’re holding everyone’s hand, handing out learner’s permits, basically doing a very gentle imperialism. This is a foreign policy I will from here on out call the Daddy Doctrine.

Also, the Big Bad this season appears to be... Zordon?

Meet the Spacepeople

Our captain this time around is Jonathan Archer, and everyone definitely knows who his daddy is. He invented the ship! When Starfleet finally launches said ship, some admiral praises the Starfleet nepotism that led to this grown child being in charge of an infinite number of first contacts, despite him losing his cool in front of the Space Daddies.

They’re going to have to talk to Klingons, so Archer taps Hoshi Sato, a genius human linguist and the only human to speak Klingon. She teaches other people to speak Klingon! But she has trouble translating some Klingon word salad almost immediately. Oh well! That said, Sato is one of two characters I can confidently say I like at this point. She has very normal human emotions about stuff like “being very deep in space on an untested ship.”

T’Pol is a hot lady Vulcan who was part of the deal for the humans to take the car keys, but she says she’s not there to babysit. She never really babysits, but people seem surprised when she doesn’t babysit, anyway. She first appears onscreen as the youngest member of the Vulcan Daddy Cabal by a long shot.

Charles “Trip” Tucker III is Archer’s best friend and seems kinda fratty, the kind of guy that really seems like someone you’d call Trip.

Our zany character on this starship is Phlox, a Denobulan doctor who loves animal testing. Denobulans are from the planet Surplus Cardassian Prosthetics.

Travis Mayweather is a Boomer and I think I like him. His confidence is earned. As an experienced spaceman, he knows that setting the ship to .8 g makes for a pretty pleasant environment, and that does sound nice.

I know Star Trek doesn’t like to acknowledge any cultural accomplishments between the year 1930 and 2100, but I feel like Malcolm Reed is a They Might Be Giants fan. Also, he’s British.

Porthos is a beagle. He smells. I like him.

This is on my desktop as “space beagle.jpg” and someday I will delight in finding this again

This Fucking Ship

When crewmembers are reboarding, they have to pass through a decontamination chamber, which is fully a hostile work environment. The decontamination chamber forces crewmembers in a room together, where they are forced to spread goo on each other under ultraviolet light like a sexually aggressive sunscreen.

We see the decontamination chamber in the first episode, and it’s basically an excuse to show some HBO After Dark shit under some expository dialogue. Tucker—that’s the guy named TRIP—takes the liberty of applying gel underneath the waist of T’Pol’s underpants for her. It is gross. (And how does the gel even work if you leave your underwear parts un-gelled???)

To be fair, Trip’s chest gets a lot of focus, too. The whole scene is shot like a Bodman Fragrance Spray commercial.

I don’t intend for these to always be this long, or episode by episode, but I just started and I have A LOT OF FEELINGS. And I didn’t even GET INTO the hot shapeshifting lady that lived for about five minutes, long enough to kiss Archer because that’s how she “senses trust.” Some real TOS shit.

*I was thinking of doing a watch order that included two watches of First Contact, but I have made my bed and now I need to lie in it for 200 years.

**Special thanks to my Star Trek chos for helping me work through some fundamental lore stuff.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi! Recently I've been interested in old fics, can you make a fic rec of season 1 fics written before s2 happened? (Old in age and old in theme lol) ps. I love your work and admire you a lot 😘

Hi Nonny!

Ohhh, this is an interesting prompt indeed! This one required me to 1) figure out when S2 aired (Jan 15, 2012) and 2) to use the “sort by date” feature on Ao3 I have never ever used. I got tired from trying to find all the Pre-S2 fics in my FFNet recs, so I haven’t many of them on here. When I have more free time, I’ll do a part 2 list from FFNet. So, yeah, sorry about how long this one took to do. Hopefully you’ll find something you like!

And if I got any of these wrong, well at least you can read more fics lol.

(and thank you so much!! I’m all blushie!!)

FICS WRITTEN BEFORE S2

See also: TGG Related Fics

You Lead, I Lead, You Follow, I Follow by BrighteyedJill (M, 862 w., 1 Ch. || Fever, H/C, John Whump) – John wakes up after a chase gone wrong to find Sherlock watching over him, but he’s a little hazy on the details.

Easy like Sunday Morning by lbmisscharlie (G, 910 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Breakfast in Bed, Epic Friendship, Platonics/Domestics) – John and Sherlock and their lazy, dysfunctional Sunday mornings in bed. In which Sherlock has difficulty sleeping and John makes lots of toast. Shameless fluff. Part 1 of No Mushrooms Please

A Metaphorical Gesture by cyparissus (T, 1,578 w., 1 Ch. || Marriage Proposal, Fluff) – "Sherlock, are you--" the words die in John's throat and he has to swallow and start again, "Are you asking me to marry you?"

Personal Space by probablyquantum (T, 1,814 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Cuddles, Nightmares, Awkwardness) – John and Sherlock renegotiate the rules governing personal space. Pre-Slash.

But Love Is A Voice On The Wind by Snow (M, 1,832 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Meddling Mycroft, Texting) – Sherlock keeps getting texts from Mycroft with tips on wooing John.

In Which John is a BAMFy MoFo, OMG! by Kantayra (T, 1,835 w., 1 Ch. || Humour) – John's BAMFness and Sherlock's damsel-in-distress act are caught forever on camera. So Scotland Yard can mock. A lot.

Duvet (green) by Mazarin221b (G, 2,021 w., 1 Ch. || Post-THoB, Mind Palace, Revelations, First Kiss) – Sherlock recalibrates and restructures his mind palace so it looks like 221b. What he chooses to put in John's room is a bit of a surprise, and a revelation.

Seventeen Letters by out_there (G, 2,357 w., 1 Ch. || Love Confessions) – "I love Sherlock," John says out loud, testing how the words feel in his mouth. It doesn't change anything. Sherlock's still the pillock who fiddled with his computer password.

Nothing Left Untouched by ForeverShippingJohnlock (K+, 2,617 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Romance, Bed Sharing, Oblivious Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Grumpy John, Fluff and Cuddles) – Sherlock rearranges the flat. So what if John's bedroom is now a research library. It's not like John needs a bedroom, he can share with Sherlock. They're friends and John has obviously slept in close quarters with men before and it's not like Sherlock sleeps much anyway. It'll be fine.

Crime Scene Procedure for Death by Drowning by paxlux (T, 2,668 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG, First Kiss, Sherlock’s Violin, Fluff) – He lies back in bed and listens to the notes and pictures them gathering around Sherlock’s feet like water. Part 1 of proper procedure

and stand there at the edge of my affection by coloredink (G, 2,683 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Letters, Clueless John) – "You've written love letters," Sherlock asserted.

Undercurrents by entanglednow (E, 2,996 w., 1 Ch. || Disturbing Things, Crime Scene Fetish, Pseudo-Necrophilia, PWP, Masturbation) – “There, that's it, perfect, shut your eyes and don't move - and don't speak."

First Night Out by verityburns (M, 3,251 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Christmas, Dev. Rel.) – As John recovers from the effects of a brutal kidnapping, he and Sherlock attend the Yarders' Christmas Party. There are... developments on the dance floor...

Bagged & Tagged by Regency (T, 3,339 w., 1 Ch. || Drunken Confessions, Fluff and Crack, Marriage Proposal) – A very inebriated John devises a clever means of proposing marriage to Sherlock. Unfortunately he's forgotten all about it by the next morning.

The Second Law of Thermodynamics by entanglednow (T, 3,614 w., 1 Ch. || Asexual Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Sharing Body Heat) – In which there’s no heating and there’s a dead owl in Sherlock’s bed. Part 1 of Thermodynamics

All That I Have by the_arc5 (M, 3,721 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG Canon Divergence, Pining Sherlock, John Whump, Anxious / Worried Sherlock, Light Angst) – In the aftermath of the Great Game, Sherlock finds himself with a new weakness. John is both the cause and the cure.

Water Is Another Matter by cathedral_carver (T, 3,903 w., 1 Ch. || Sick Fic, Pining, First Kiss, Heat Wave, Skinny Dipping) – He thinks it’s in trouble, his poor heart.

Someone Else’s Heart by thisprettywren (E, 4,188 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, H/C, POV Sherlock, Caretaking John, Pining Idiots) – A crime scene, a rainstorm, and something they both should have known all along.

Obsession, Appassionato by shinychimera, Yeomanrand (E, 4,249 w., 1 Ch. || Possessive Sherlock, First Time, Jealous Sherlock, Music / Sherlock’s Violin, Present Tense, Frottage) – John is late, and he hasn’t called, and Sherlock works himself into a state. Part 1 of Love and Ysaye

Practical Johnkeeping by what_alchemy (M, 4,330 w., 1 Ch. || Beekeeping, Aging, Gladstone, Tooth Rotting Fluff) – Sherlock predicts nectar flow the same way he deduces a murder, but he harvests the honey like John coddles the dog.

Sink Like a Stone by pennydreadful (T, 4,348 w., 1 Ch. || Angst / Dark, Cuddling/Snuggling) – After defeating Moriarty at the pool, life isn't quite the same around 221B Baker Street...it's more peaceful. And stranger.

Butterfly, Pinned Under Glass by billiethepoet (E, 4,648 w., 1 Ch. || Possessive Sherlock, Jealousy, Barebacking, BAMF!John) – It started as a desire to keep John safe and whole, and ended up as just desire.

A Quiet Murmuration by cathedral_carver (T, 4,684 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Kissing) – Just pay me back with one thousand kisses.

Applied Linguistics by what_alchemy (M, 4,837 w., 1 Ch. || Possessive / Anxious Sherlock, Introspection, Bed Sharing, Past John Whump, Est. Rel., Marriage Proposal, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Word Play) – “He wants to shake John by the shoulders, wants to open his mouth and swallow John whole. Wants to marry him.” Sherlock searches for the right words.

Finding John by orphan_account (T, 5,456 w., 1 Ch. || Soul Bond AU, Symbolic Rings, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes has met exactly twenty-four Johns in his life. They have all been the wrong John. He's getting tired of waiting, staring at the inscription on his finger and wondering when his John will turn up, if ever. Part 1 of Inscriptions

Fa Subito by kim47 (E, 6,659 w., 1 Ch. || Suit Porn, Cockblocker Mycroft, Obsessed Sherlock, PWP) – John wears a suit. Sherlock finds it extremely distracting.

Sherlock’s Laboratory, Episode 1: Romance by berlynn_wohl (E, 6,900 w., 1 Ch. || Clones, Sci-Fi AU, Clone Sex, Foursome, Double Penetration) – “John, this isn’t one of your science fiction programmes. This is reality.“ Part 1 of Sherlock’s Laboratory

that thing you like by misspamela (E, 7,165 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers) – "Happy Christmas, etc. etc." Sherlock and John go to the Holmes’ for Christmas, and everyone thinks they’re together.

Galapogos by anchors (E, 8,460 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Angst, 5 and 1, John Whump) – Somewhere in the depths of the universe, and somewhere in the middle of Sherlock's chest, a star goes into supernova.

To Quote Malcolm Tucker; or, Get The Fuck In or Fuck The Fuck Off by kim47 (T, 8,484 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous Sherlock, Flirting, Cockblocking) – Sherlock is cockblocker and a prick tease and John is not amused.

High Tide by stardust_made (T, 8,540 w., 1 Ch. || Jealousy, Angst, First Kiss) – A little favour Sherlock stupidly agrees to do for Mycroft leads to John meeting a handsome, affluent man, who is going out of his way to woo him. Sherlock struggles with the situation and with his own reactions to it. Part 1 of The High Tide Series

Let You Kiss Me (So Sweet and So Soft) by out_there (G, 8,659 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Kisses, Stroppy Sherlock, Confused John) – The first time Sherlock kisses him, John keeps his eyes open, and so does Sherlock, and mostly, he wonders what Sherlock could possibly be up to. There'll be some logic to this. Some ridiculous experiment about body warmth or respiratory rates or testing a new way of picking pockets. Sherlock does the unimaginable for bizarre reasons, but behind it, there's always logic and curiosity. Sometimes, it just takes him a while to explain it to John.

The Important Bit by Solshine (G, 9,984 w., 7 Ch. || Platonic Marriage, Domestics, Asexual Sherlock) – Just where exactly is the line between “to love” and “to be in love”? What difference is required between “flatmate” and “husband”? (Besides the rings, obviously.) No, the important bit is that they have each other. Thirty years, give or take, in an atypical marriage. Basically a long bit of platonic domestic fluff.

I Used to Live Alone Before I Knew You by etothepii (T, 11,052 w., 1 Ch. || Winglock || Angels / Demons, Supernatural Elements, Occult) – Where Mycroft is an angel, Sherlock is a demon, and John is still John.

I See You Through by belovedmuerto (T, 12,078 w., 8 Ch. || Psychic AU || Empath John, Alternate TGG, Whump, Nightmares, Bedsharing, Slow Burn, Pre-Slash) – John has never asked Sherlock about his past, his childhood, the reason he quails in lonely misery almost every time he sees his brother. He’s never needed to. Part 2 of An Experiment in Empathy

The Velveteen Doctor by Lantean_Drift (M, 12,815 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Dev. Rel., Introspection, Mild Whump, Taking Care of Each Other) – A series of events that show John just how real he has become to Sherlock – like a bright, brilliant flash of colour in an otherwise greyscale world.

Fucking Cake by Random_Nexus (E, 12,965 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Humour/Crack, Inanimate Object Smut, Frottage, “For a Case” / “Experiment”, PWP / Kinky, Mutual Pining, Fluff) – Sherlock brings home a chocolate cake, John finds him about to have sex with said cake, then exceedingly weird hijinx ensue. Part 1 of "Fucking Baked Goods" - Sherlock BBC

Lacuna by coloredink (E, 15,607 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Consent Issues, Drama, Amnesia) – God, it must have been terrible, to think that he would never have this again.

Never-Ending Cycle by orphan_account (T, 17,211 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Est. Rel., Proposal, Fluff) – Or, four times Sherlock Holmes attempted to propose to John Watson, and the Christmas Party at which he finally did. Sherlock thinks he's a miserable failure, John is confused, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade provide some unsatisfactory advice, and Mummy is, as always, the solution. All in a lovely, fluffy holiday theme.

Let's Make a Bed Out in the Rain by theimprobable1 (M, 17,664 w., 11 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, First Kiss, Unrequited, Jealous Sherlock, Protective Sherlock) – John is devastated after his long-term girlfriend leaves him. Sherlock helps him through it.

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

Once More, With Feeling by cellard00rs (T, 21,178 w., 7 Ch. || John’s Family, Fake Relationship, Romance, Fluff, Humour) – To put off his meddlesome, matchmaking mother, John convinces Sherlock to play the role of his significant other. Unparalleled awkwardness ensues.

You Can Imagine the Christmas Dinners by ardenteurophile (T, 23,584 w., 9 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Drama, Fluff & Angst, Humour, Romance) – Sherlock takes John along for Christmas dinner with Mycroft and Mummy (And "Anthea", too). Over the course of the evening, John realises that everyone in the room - apart from him - seems to think that he and Sherlock are a couple. Part 2 of Xmas Dinners Verse

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop, Past Abuse) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

The Whore of Babylon Was a Perfectly Nice Girl by out_there (E, 32,897 w., 1 Ch. || Past Drug Use, Blowjobs, Toplock, Mentions of Switching, Rough Sex, Background Cases, Sherlock’s Past, Sherlock’s Sexual History, Experienced Sherlock, Past One Night Stands, Fingering, Cuddling, Possessive Sherlock, Paris Holiday, Bed Sharing, Naked Lie-Ins, Bathing Together, Confessions, Worried Sherlock, Laying in Bed All Day, Meddling Mycroft, Naked Lazy Day) – Sherlock walks into a room and takes all the space right out of it. He does the same inside John's head.

A Love with No Name Series by aceofhearts61 (G to M, 49,955 w. across 20 stories || Asexual Sherlock / Straight John, Est. Rel, Queerplatonic Relationship, Romance, Cuddling, Fluff, Platonic Romance, Domestics) – In which Asexual!Sherlock and Straight!John are platonically in love life partners.

The Progress of Sherlock Holmes by ivyblossom (E, 62,006 w., 25 Ch. || First Person Sherlock POV, Pining, Angst, Slow Burn, Infidelity, Sherlock Learns About Himself, Happy Ending) – Sherlock struggles with his feelings for John, makes a mistake, and learns just how important he and John are to each other. Non-BBC Mary / John, but it’s a *complicated* relationship.

The Green Blade by verityburns (T, 72,929 w., 15 Ch. || Casefic, Bromance) – As a serial killer hits the headlines, the police are out of their depth and the next victim is out of time. With faith in Sherlock Holmes at an all time low, this is a case which will push loyalties to the limit...

The Heart In The Whole by verityburns (E, 101,650 w., 21 Ch. || Post-TGG Canon Divergence, Drama & Angst, H/C, First Time, Blind Sherlock) – Events after ‘The Great Game’ leave Sherlock dependent on his best friend and colleague. But John has a secret of his own…

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

[thekingofspin]

ever since I watched this show, I swear I quote this phrase daily

[gingerteaonthetardis]

The Rose Tyler and Bill Potts

did you mean: the two most powerful women in all of doctor who? i think you did, nonny!!!

let us begin with, as you put it, The Rose Tyler...

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

best quality: i cannot pick just one. i'm physically unable to do that. so, i'm just gonna have to go with "absolutely everything about her, including but not limited to: her courage, her love for the doctor, her sense of justice and standing up for what's right, her smile, her fashion sense, her sense of adventure, and the fact that she saves the entire multiverse, repeatedly." that should about do it, i think!

worst quality: she frequently does not treat mickey well, because she definitely still has teenage relationship brain when the show first starts. tends to focus wholly on the doctor, to the exclusion of anyone else.

ship them with: the doctor!!!! first and foremost and always, in basically every incarnation. but also: alt!verse doctors (alec hardy, malcolm tucker, maybe crowley if he's feeling bisexual), charley pollard (it's called taste!), and in my little gay heart, bill potts (THEIR FIRST DATE, THEY HAD CHIPS)!!!

brotp them with: donna and martha and clara and amy and sarah jane and...

needs to stay away from: all harm. also, suspicious-looking rips in the universe that she might potentially fall through.

misc. thoughts: no thoughts, head empty. only love.

and now onto miss bill potts...

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine i guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

best quality: once again, asking me to pick just one would be impossible. she asks the right questions!! she is smart and funny and gorgeous, and she keeps the doctor on their toes, which is something that they absolutely need. her fashion sense is incredible, her humanity warms me to the bone, and she's never done anything wrong in her entire life!!!

worst quality: has none. is an angel.

ship them with: heather, obvs, but also rose and also sometimes clara.

brotp them with: the doctor, nardole, and i can also see her really vibing with donna, because they'd both have so much shit to talk about the doctor.

needs to stay away from: cybermen. also, tropes that involve... maybe shovels... with which you might... bury someone... say, your gays.

misc. thoughts: she and rose should kiss!!!!

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 13

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Friday - the wedding, pt 1/2

“Rose.  Rose?  Rose!”

“Hmm?”  Rose looked up, blinking, at the sound of her name.  She’d been engrossed in examining her fresh manicure, and by the exasperation in her mother’s voice, it wasn’t the first time she’d been called.  “What?”

Scowl firmly in place, Jackie huffed.  “What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re in space, and not on Cloud 9.  It’s your wedding day- why aren’t you happier?”

“I am happy,” Rose forced a smile, conscious of the woman behind her doing her hair.  “Everything’s lovely, it’s a gorgeous day.  I’m fine.”

Her mother narrowed her eyes, and Rose calmly returned the gaze; she’d learned long ago how to deal with Jackie when she got like this, and refused to flinch.  Eventually the other woman nodded, though she still didn’t look satisfied. “Fine.  Now, I was thinking-”

-

Wrapping her dressing gown tighter around herself, Rose wandered down the stairs to the first floor.  With the reception only a few hours away the floor was a bustle of activity, as the catering company’s waitstaff finished setting out tables and placing settings in anticipation of the dinner to come.  Trying to keep out of the way she crept into the room, standing in the corner to observe the goings-on.  One long table was set for thirty in an L shape, the longer section by the windows. A DJ booth was set up in the corner near her, with a fabricated dance floor set up to avoid scratching the original wood flooring.

Keeping to the wall she made her way closer to the table, stopping behind the chair designated for her after the ceremony.  When I sit there, it will be as Mrs. Malcolm Tucker, she thought.  Viscountess Gallifrey.

She felt nothing.

Even standing here, the morning of their wedding, looking at their reception space, it didn’t feel real, tangible.

Her heart hurt.

“Ma’am?”

Startled, she turned to find a nervous waiter next to her, a tray of teacups in hand, clearly setting them at the places.  “Sorry,” she mumbled, and they did an awkward half-dance moving around each other.

Suddenly overwhelmed by the seemingly-loud sounds of the setup, she fled.

-

Trailing her fingers along the shelves Rose breathed deeply, letting the quiet air of the library soothe her nervous energy.  It smelled of smoke from a wood-burning burning fire, fine whisky, old books – and Malcolm.

From her very first visit to the room, way back in her first year at uni, it had been one of her favorite spots on Earth.  She’s spent countless hours in the library at her parents’ mansion, but it hadn’t been until she arrived here, in a room that had served that purpose for literally hundreds of years, that it brought her the joy and comfort she’d always instinctively known she would find amongst books.  Each one promised an adventure, travels through space and time, without having to leave a cosy chair.

Nothing changed; no telltale creak of the door, no footsteps on the carpet, nothing to inform her senses, but all the same, she knew suddenly that he was there, from the spark of electricity that raced across her skin.

“It’s bad luck for you to see me before the ceremony,” she murmured, not lifting her eyes from the copy of Sherlock Holmes in front of her.

“I don’t believe in luck,” Malcolm murmured, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his skin.  “Besides, I’m reasonably certain that only applies to the dress, not the bride.  After all, I saw Missy the morning of our wedding.”

Rose’s lips twitched, and she arched an eyebrow at the shelf.  “You’re divorced.”

“Exactly.  If the bad luck bit was true, we would’ve been married for much, much longer than only five years.”

She laughed at that, reluctantly turning around to find him grinning just behind her, looking inordinately pleased with himself.  “I suppose that’s fair.  If you’re not careful, though, you’ll get a reputation as a five-year husband.  What will the next Mrs. Tucker think?”  The idea of him remarrying was enough to make her breath catch, her heart physically aching.  But she kept her smile, not wanting to go there with him in front of her.

“Oh, there won’t be another Mrs. Tucker,” he said breezily, momentarily freezing before clearing his throat.  “I mean, I wouldn’t- not again. Twice is enough for me.  I doubt I would ever meet anyone who could change my mind.”

It was just wishful thinking, a projection of what she wanted that to mean, but for a single heartbeat she heard a soft, wistful tone in his voice, one that said I’m not letting you go, I love you, promise me forever.  “I suppose we’ll see,” she sighed.  “Why’re you here, anyway?”

His brow furrowed, and she waited as he searched his memory.  “Oh! Apparently you’re worrying everyone; Clara thought you might’ve done a runner.”

“I’m right here,” she shrugged, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, painfully conscious that under her dressing gown, she wore only a slip and lacy lingerie.  (A girl could hope – she wanted to be prepared just in case the wedding night turned into a wedding night.)  “Not even wearing my trainers.”  She held a foot out for inspection, earning herself a chuckle when he saw her fluffy slippers.

“I see that.  Can we…”

Rose let him guide her to the plush sofa in front of the fireplace, delicately curling her legs under her and adjusting the hem of her robe for decency, though it didn’t help when his eyes lingered on her bare thigh for a moment.  “What’s up?”

Malcolm sighed, leaning back and running his hands over his face.  “You don’t have to go through with this,” he said, bluntly but not unkindly.  “I’m asking far too much of you, and would absolutely understand if you want to back out.  You haven’t been yourself these last few weeks, and I can’t bear to be the cause of your unhappiness.  Truly.”

“You’re not!  You’re not.”  The idea was so absurd that Rose couldn’t help but blurt it out, hurt but not entirely surprised that he’d drawn that conclusion; hadn’t Clara warned her he thought just that last weekend?  “It’s just… this isn’t what I had pictured.  Not that I’ve ever spent that much time planning my wedding, or my future, but…”

“I know.”  He smiled wryly.  “I never considered marrying again- I thought, after the divorce, that I would spend the rest of my life alone.  And that… was okay.”  His eyes softened, and he reached out, fingertips barely grazing over her knee before his hand settled firmly on the couch next to her, not quite touching.  “I realize this isn’t ideal.  I don’t want you to regret doing this.  But… I promise you, I am a good husband.  We’ve always enjoyed each other’s company, and… we make each other laugh, and smile, and at the end of the day, that’s what makes a marriage work.  It’s not necessarily about the- the physical.  They say ‘marry your best friend’ for a reason.”

Rose bit her lip to keep from smirking.  “And how’d that work out for you?”

“I got Clara, so, brilliant.  Come on- it can’t be any worse than your current situation,” he pointed out.  “Besides, blokes seem to love married women, maybe this is just what you need.  So, what do you say?”

She gave into the laughter, settling her hand on his and running her thumb over his knuckles.

“I suppose I say… I do.”

-

Malcolm stared critically at the reflection in front of him, tugging on the hem of the waistcoat before smoothing it down.  The clock he could just see out of the corner of his eye told him he had twenty more minutes until it was time to go down for the ceremony, and the longer he was left alone with his thoughts, the more jittery he became.  It was almost as if by soothing Rose’s fears he’d absorbed then, making him doubt everything.

This is the right thing, he told himself once again, narrowing his eyes at the glass.  She agreed to it, and I believe her – Rose Tyler does nothing she doesn’t want to do.  This will make both of our lives better- easier- and won’t change all that much.  It’s a signature on the line and that’s it.

His romantic heart, usually kept buried deep inside him, locked away since before his divorce, continued to bleed all over his sleeve.  Why doesn’t she love me?  It was a ridiculous question, of course, his rational mind knew that- the greater question would be why she would- if she did- but at the end of the day a small boy with taped-up glasses who was a bit too much of an odd duck for the popular kids still lived in his chest, wishing people would like him while doing everything possible to keep them at arm’s length, or further.  That was part of why he and Missy had gotten so deeply entrenched in each other – they’d spent most of their childhood each other’s only friend, and they’d mistaken that for love.

Sometimes he wished he could go back to his teenage self, awkward and gangly at fifteen and overly devoted to Missy, and tell him that what he felt wasn’t love, not real love, not the kind the songs and poems and books and movies were about.  That he’d know it when he found it, mid-forties and utterly enchanted with his assistant.  But, of course, if he did that, if he saved himself the heartbreak of an ill-fated relationship and marriage with Missy, he wouldn’t have his daughter.  His beautiful, precious, wonderful, awe-inspiring little girl, who pushed him to be better just by believing that he was.

And without her, he wouldn’t have met Rose.

“Dad?”

Startling violently he spun on his heel, nearly falling over in his surprise at being yanked so thoroughly from his thoughts.  “Yes?”

“All right there?” Clara asked, unable to full mask her smirk as she watched him from the door.  “You should be more comfortable.”

“I’m fine.”  Brushing his hands down along his coat, he crossed his arms.  “What do you want?”

“Nice.”  She moved inside, rearranging her expression to appear more sympathetic, but unable to fool him – her eyes still sparkled.  “Now, I need to talk to you, it’s serious.”

Sitting himself down on the bench at the end of his bed, he watched her arrange herself on the loveseat across from him.  “I’m all ears.”

“So, I was talking to the reverend about the ceremony,” Clara started, smoothing the skirt of her dress over her knees.  “And he said there’s this rule- it’s really stupid, and it really sucks.”

Malcolm’s brow furrowed, confused.  Despite her attempts at appearing severe and serious, her tells of lying gave her away- what she was lying about he wasn’t quite sure, but the way she covered her elbow confirmed it.  (Once of his great accomplishments as a father, in his own humble opinion, was convincing her as a little girl that when she lied, her elbow would turn green.  Somehow, despite becoming a teacher, she’d never realized the truth; it was a foolproof way of fact-checking any story, which frustrated her to no end as a teenager, unable to tell how he always knew she was lying.)

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Okay, so, he said that the best man isn’t supposed to really know the bride, or at least, not be close to her.  You know, for perspective, so he can properly advise the groom, that sort of thing.”

What?  “I don’t follow,” he said honestly.  Clearly she had a reason for this, but he couldn’t see the point – it made no sense.  Why not just say you would rather stand up for Rose?  That, he could understand- he was Clara’s father, but after more than a decade of friendship, she and Rose were the sisters the other had never had.  But why string him along like this, until ten minutes before the ceremony?

“I’m sorry, Daddy, I just… don’t know what to do.”  Her eyes sparkled, bottom lip clamped firmly between her teeth, and when her gaze trailed behind him, he frowned, though it was the voice that made him turn to look himself.

“I may be able to help with that.”

Without thinking Malcolm rose to his feet, staring at the doorway with his mouth open wide, unable to believe his eyes.

“Brigadier?”

[starfleetimagines]

What’s your posting lineup

I mean, I don’t have a technical lineup or schedule for what I post because I write what I have inspiration for, not what was requested first. But, here is a list of the requests I have right now. Please note that these will not be written in this order, and some may be declined if I don’t get inspiration for them in a while. (Also titles are a work in progress lol)

Quark/Worf – Marital Problems (aw--heck on tumblr) [Any chance I could get a DS9 request where the reader goes to their best friend Quark to talk about marriage troubles with their husband Worf? A bit of comforting banter at the bar type thing?]

Malcolm Reed – Labouring Mission (thebeckyjolene on tumblr) [I was wondering if I was able to request an imagine using Malcolm Reed from Enterprise, where Y/N and Malcolm are set to enter parenthood and Y/N goes into labor mid mission.]

Garak – Flirtatious Surprises (anon on tumblr) [I wonder if I could please request a DS9 Garak x reader imagine where the normally quiet plus-size reader flirts with Garak in front of everyone and leaves him flustered but in the end he just kisses her and everyone cheers?]

William Riker – Confessions (Ravennya on wattpad) [What if the reader was secretly in love with Riker, and she only verbally admitted this to him when he was unconscious after sustaining an injury during a mission when he saved her from being harmed by an enemy. What she didn't know was that he became conscious while she spoke to him and he heard her. When Riker approaches the reader, she could be absolutely humiliated and believes that he is going to reject her. Instead, he would express his mutual affection for her.]

Data – Panic Attack (Area_C-137 on wattpad) [Maybe you could write one we’re the reader is in a relationship with data and he see the reader having a panic attack and then they cuddle to make the reader feel happy]

Data – First Date Part 2 of First Meetings (ElfWarriorQueen on wattpad) [Maybe them going on their date and there could be some kind of unfortunate accident that draws them closer together; like drinks get spilled over the reader, or maybe there’s a malfunction in the elevator and they’re stuck for a while.]

William Riker – Risa (anon on tumblr) [I’d like to see one with Riker, please? Maybe with a vacation theme, like going to Risa on shore leave!]

Trip Tucker – Tension (adela-topaz-caelon on tumblr) [Can I request a vaguley smutty Trip Tucker x Reader, where they're on a mission together in a shuttle, there's some repartee between the two, who aren't yet dating - and comments start leading to others and so on and forth and such, and then there's a time skip to them going back to the station, and whilst they did get the work done, other's can tell by marks on the Reader's neck that something has happened.]

Christopher Pike – Parents (anon on tumblr) [I had a realization thats night if you can do Disco Pike becoming for dad I'll love you forever]

Harry Kim – You’re Tom’s Sibling (evening_starz on wattpad) [Could you do one where the reader is Tom Paris’ sister, and she has to tell him that she’s dating Harry? And it could end with some sibling fluff?]

Wesley Crusher – Comfort (anon on tumblr) [could I request something fluffy where Wesley does his best to comfort the reader after her now ex-boyfriend break ups with her b/c of lack of sexual intimacy and the reader avoids Wesley cause she feels she's not smart enough or pretty enough for him]

Q Junior Being Jealous Would Include… (anon on tumblr)

Leonard “Bones” McCoy – Dance Practice (jesterofsorts on wattpad) [I was wondering if you could do a Star Trek imagine about AOS Bones? Maybe if he teaches the reader to dance because they don't know how and they fall in love with each other?]

Garak – Rescue Party (kate_the_dork on wattpad) [I was wondering if you could do a Garak x reader where the reader is taken by the Dominion and is interrogated for info about ds9 but she won't give it up cuz she's too cool for that lmao. And then, cuz I'm a cliche and fluffy gal, Garak comes to save her?]

Garak – “Sew, you like me?” (Indirect_Detective on wattpad) [Could you do a Garak x reader? Him coming to terms with loving the reader and finally trying to admit is but doctor Bashir keeps cutting in and ruining the moment. Garak finally gets the reader alone and compliments the reader(looks and personality) as he's hemming readers uniform before opening up to the reader?]

Malcolm Reed – Trust Issues (chevyp15 on wattpad) [Malcolm Reed x reader where reader seems off and when Mal confronts them they break down and confess all their worries about the relationship?]

Deanna x Will - Pregnant (anon on tumblr) [Can I ask you for something fluffy between Deanna Troi x William Riker where set during an official Starfleet ball and they announced that Deanna is expecting a baby again, but Deanna feels uncertain after the death of their son Ian Troi and Riker comforts her, which leads to a bit of passionate kisses please.]

Garak - Presents (anon on tumblr) [Ah I request an imagine for garak. Like he’s at his shop and his so comes in with something from cardassia for him and he has no idea how his so got it for him and she refuses to say. But he’s super happy about it because it’s something he’s missed for so long. And just fluff ensues?]

Pavel Chekov – Set Up (anon on tumblr) [Can I get an imagine with Chekov please? Fem!Reader works in engineering and is like a daughter figure to Scotty. When Chekov starts shadowing Scotty, he meets the reader and a friendship quickly forms because they are both adorable dorks. Scotty notices that their friendship could become something more with a nudge in the right direction. Soon the Scotsman has get both the reader and Chekov together. Just something super silly and fluffy!!]

Deanna and Beverly x reader (platonic) – Royalty (anon on tumblr) [Hi! I was thinking it’d be super interesting to have a reader that is an exiled member of royalty after a war that they lost on their planet, and they joined Starfleet but only the captain is aware of it. The reader is super close with Deanna and Beverly but they only find out after the reader has to go a diplomatic mission because of their hidden status and it goes wrong and they end up in Sickbay and the reader is super worried that they’ll change how they treat them?]

Kathryn Janeway – Protection (anon on tumblr) [Hiiiiiiii could I have a Janeway x reader fic where she steps in front of you to protect you and uses her arm to shield you and is super gentle with you and everything? Can be romantic or platonic whatever works best for this!]

Enemies To Lovers With Malcolm Would Include… (anon on tumblr)

Being Friends With Hugh Would Include… (anon on tumblr) [This is a bit outside your usual wheelhouse, but would you be up for writing something about Hugh the Borg? Possibly in an AU where he did end up staying on the Enterprise with Geordi, and the Reader ended up working with them and befriending him?]

Trip Tucker – Restless Nights (tinkerbelldetective on tumblr) [How about one for Trip where reader is trying to help him fall asleep and runs their hands through his hair please!]

Spock x Uhura – Wedding Bells (anon on tumblr) [Can I ask you for something fluffy between Spock and Uhura where they get married on planet Vulcan with all their friends and family around them?]

Being Pavel Chekov’s Betazoid Wife Would Include… (dancingwith-thesunflowers on tumblr) [Could you write some headcanons about Chekov and female betazoid-human hybrid!reader getting married and having children please?]

Beverly x Jean-Luc – Dinner Date (anon on tumblr) [Could you write something about Dr Crusher and Picard having one of their late night dinners together, and things getting a little romantic please?]

Garak – Lulled To Sleep (capan-devereaux on tumblr) [Can I please request one where reader falls asleep on Garak while he reads something, like maybe during the dominion war and he has to decide all those cardassian messages]

Dating T’Pol Would Include… (anon on tumblr)

Will Riker – Pregnant (borzanimariana on wattpad) [Write with command riker and reader are married and she's pregnant, please]

[nehswritesstuffs]

The Thick of UNIT - Part XLII

I know I keep on telling you guys that I’ve been waiting for xyz moment to happen in the fic, but this is genuinely one of the big ones. Thanks for sticking around and humoring me regarding this fic--it’d be a much more difficult and lonely road without you all.

Chapter Index - FFN - AO3

Good things come to those who wait. It is a good thing, however, that at least not all sixty-five weeks were spent as such. [Malcolm/Kate, a Malcolm Tucker working in UNIT AU]

The days passed and it was finally time for Martha to return to Mainframe Ed-Cal. She left behind all the experimental medical equipment she brought over and a promise to return with even more after there was a baby to hold. There was likely going to be plenty of waiting, she claimed, and she might as well spend it with her own husband and child while everything played out.

…and so they waited.

…and waited.

…and waited.

…and waited.

Some people within Mainframe UK were concentrated on celebrating the impending arrival of a royal spare, the idea of which captivated mostly Humans and future-thinking Silurians and Zygons who contemplated the influence the particular child might end up having on Tripartite life. Others were completely disinterested because they didn’t care one way or the other—it was a baby. Then there were general debates (which, for the first time, had two Zygons up for national level elected positions, unbeknownst to the main Human populace), the lead up to another war anniversary, and even the series finale of a new Poldark adaptation… plenty of things kept chatter off of the large and miserably pregnant woman being hidden away inside the medbay. The more that kept attention away from Miss Oswald and her child, the better things were, the parties in the know decided.

…and then, it happened.

It was early in the morning after people began celebrating the royal spare, as a matter of fact. Malcolm, absolutely stone-tired at the amount of hours he had been putting in thanks to a couple election-related ministerial faux fucking pas that nearly put UNIT at risk, was woken up from a dead sleep by his mobile on the nightstand. There was no one else in the house, as Kate was working some night and midnight shifts in order to observe how well the nocturnal molemen were staying in line. He glared at it as he picked the device up and checked to see who it was: oh shit.

“Who do I have to fucking murder, love?” he growled into the receiver. “It’s three in the morning, for fucking sake.”

“I need you to come in soon as you can manage,” she ordered. Malcolm blinked heavily and rubbed his face with his free hand.

“We’re supposed to be on opposite shifts all this week—I can’t.”

“For this, I would think you can. I’d tell you over a text, but I need to know you got the message.”

“Why’s that?”

“Miss Oswald started glowing half an hour ago.”

Malcolm sat straight up, the information shocking him into a state of alertness. “She’s literally fucking glowing?! That has definitely not happened before.”

“That’s because she’s never had contractions before this.”

“Well fuck…” He paused for a moment and quickly gathered his thoughts. “I remember Marcia was in labor a couple days before going to the hospital to have Lex—should I pack some clothes so we can just sleep in our offices?”

“It’s not a bad plan,” she replied. “Use my purse and just stick that in your briefcase so no one gets the wrong idea; we don’t want anyone alerted to the fact we’re planning a sleepover.”

“Gotcha.” He knew precisely which purse she meant: the one with a dimension-defying interior that would allow for much more than a wallet and a handkerchief. “I’ll shower and pack and should be out the door before sunrise.”

“See you when you get here. I love you, Malcolm.”

“…and I love you, Kate,” he echoed.

He ended the call and sprang into action, showering and dressing himself in under ten minutes. Should he go for a more casual look, with a jumper over a shirt and no tie? Yes, he fucking should, he told himself, because at least he was going to be comfortable today. He found Kate’s purse and threw in about four days’ worth of clothes for them both, knowing there was still a couple changes for each of them still at the mainframe in case of an emergency. A stop was even made in the nursery, where he stared at the brand-new cot for what felt like ages before plucking out a stuffed toy and jamming it in the bag. He then put in enough stuff from his briefcase to allow for the purse’s general concealment and indeed was out the door just as light was beginning to smear itself across the horizon.

Thankful for the earlier-than-normal commute being wonderfully light, Malcolm walked into Mainframe UK with two takeaway coffees and some pastries in-hand. The only sign that anything odd was going on happened to be the fact he was early for his shift, which spooked a couple people, but it was mostly brushed off when he was seen going up the lift to the Brigadier-Director’s office, with food no less.

“Got the goods,” he announced as he walked into Kate’s realm. She was sitting on a couch and reading a spreadsheet intently, almost not noticing her husband’s arrival.

“Thank God,” she exhaled. Kate accepted the coffee and a kiss, taking note of the pastry box. “Your breakfast?”

“I don’t know what the fuck it is—thought it’d be good to have around though,” he admitted. “How’s Oswald? She alright? The nip doing okay?”

“Clara was a little disoriented last I saw her, but she should be fine,” she replied. “She’s dilated at one.”

“…is that good…?”

“It’s the very first stages of labor.” She took his hand in hers and squeezed gently. “We don’t know when things will begin to escalate, but until now, her water broke and she has light contractions with a small dilation.”

“Then I guess that means we’re staying here until the wee thing finally breaks free,” he nodded. “Sullivan with her?”

“Not at the moment—she’s embarrassed from being emotional and wants to be left alone. Anything more strenuous and she knows Alessandra’s right down the corridor.”

Malcolm scowled into his coffee at that. “She’s being left alone?”

“She wants to be for a little bit; I think it’s her coming to grips with the fact she’s about to finally give birth after all this time. A lot of women feel like they’re pregnant for over a year, though she has been, and God knows what’s going on in her brain regarding it.” Kate stared just past where the box of pastries sat, sighing heavily. “I wonder what Dad would say if he were here.”

“If your da had as long a history with the Doctor as we believe him to, then he would have already said plenty of things,” he mentioned through a mouthful of pastry. “He would also probably think we were all fucking insane, Oswald most of all for using an Eldritch-fucking-space-horror as her boy-toy.”

“Your descriptors never cease to amuse me,” she chuckled weakly. She pecked her husband’s cheek and dug in the box for a doughnut. “I’ll take you to see her in just a little bit—she’s really a sight.”

“Well, yeah. You said she’s glowing.”

“Not just that; you’ll see in a tic.”

Malcolm didn’t like the sound of that one fucking bit. He sipped his coffee and raised an eyebrow at his wife, knowing that whatever it was, it had to be important for him to see for himself if she didn’t simply tell him outright.

After Kate was done with her coffee and doughnut, the pair went down to the medbay and slipped into Clara’s room. Malcolm’s jaw dropped at the sight: what he knew to be a perfectly Human woman certainly was glowing underneath her clothes, her skin taking on a soft, golden hue and her hair and sleeveless nightie moving as though she was in water. There was even an aura around her, the same gold as her skin swirling around her in a dusty shimmer. She appeared to be standing in the room, yet a second glance revealed that her feet were a couple centimeters from the ground—she wasn’t just glowing, she was fucking floating.

“What the actual fuck is going on…?” Malcolm breathed. He stepped towards Clara with his hand outstretched, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion. Her face didn’t change, however, as he approached and touched her shoulder, taking it back quickly when she pulsed with brightness.

“I don’t know how to process this,” Clara said, her voice distracted and distant. As she moved her head, the golden dust left an after-image before rejoining her properly. “That was supposed to hurt.”

“Was that a…?” Malcolm couldn’t even finish his sentence.

“Yes; I told you it was the first stages,” Kate said. She then turned towards the younger woman and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright? You should rest while you can.”

“I’m not tired,” she claimed calmly. “I’m not tired or hungry or in pain or anything. I don’t even look or feel like I was crying when you left earlier.”

“You got all of three hours of sleep since yesterday morning—there’s no way you’re not tired.”

“I think…” Clara touched a hand to her stomach as Malcolm took a blanket and draped it over her shoulders, dimming the light around most of her body somewhat before it too began to float and behave as though it was underwater. “I think this is because of the baby.”

‘No shit,’ Malcolm thought. He attempted to not scowl as Oswald seemed completely and inhumanly disoriented; this was not the normal Clara and he could tell that right off. Fuck, a brain-dead MP who’d never even met her before could likely tell that this wasn’t her normal self… after they stopped shitting their pants, that is. It was then that Sullivan came into the room, who appeared as though all of Oswald’s tiredness and fatigue that should have occurred had been transferred to her, coffee in one hand and mobile in the other.

“Tucker, out of the room, now,” she ordered. “Women only from this point on.”

“I’m not here to get off at the sight of radioactive fanny, Alessandra,” he scowled. “I’m gonna raise this wee tykebomb about to Alien itself all over the fucking place and it would be nice if I can tell it later that I was there from the very beginning.”

“Don’t care; get out; you are not a trained medical professional, nor are you related to Miss Oswald, nor are you able to contribute anything of use other than inventing some new cusswords for the situation,” Sullivan said. She finished tapping on her mobile and put the device to her ear. “Yeah, Martha? Line finally secure? Good; catch the next flight over. Dilated at one and glowing. You heard me correctly. I don’t care if you have to bring your son with you—we’ve got a Time Baby to deliver…”

“Just go—she might change her mind later,” Kate said lowly. “I’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

“Thanks,” he said. Then, taking advantage of the last moments of Sullivan’s distractedness, he took hold of Clara’s shoulders and kissed her chastely upon the brow. “We’ve got your back.”

“I appreciate it,” Oswald said. She gave him a hug, which he awkwardly reciprocated, letting go just in time for Sullivan to finish her call with Jones. Malcolm was then forced out of the room, door nearly slamming behind him.

Well, fuck.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Hours crawled by and Martha arrived from Mainframe Ed-Cal, which prompted Alessandra to create shifts for all approved personnel to abide by when it came to watching over Clara and her child. Hours stretched into days, and days continued on, until a week passed and the contractions slowly became longer and closer together as Clara dilated further and her body crept closer towards being ready to give birth. She still did not eat or sleep, though other problems arose in their place. Kate, Martha, and Alessandra stayed in the room at all times, documenting with horror their findings as the glowing intensified, their patient began seizing up and convulsing for hours on end, and things began to look less and less like childbirth as they knew it and more like an extraterrestrial’s terrifyingly uncomfortable mockery of it.

Not entirely far off, but it still did not quite properly describe anything about what was going on.

Then, early on a Thursday morning, it was finally over. Miss Oswald gave one final push and a glowing, featureless baby made its way into the world. It cried as the umbilical cord was cut and it was washed before being placed in its mother’s arms. Both mother and child continued to emit a soft, golden, healing light until it began to suckle, the glow diminishing gradually as the baby settled into its appearance. Pale blue eyes, softly curling wisps of brown hair, and light pink skin appeared, the sight of which made Clara’s eyes well up in tears.

“My son,” she whispered hoarsely, simply knowing. She ran her finger along his cheek and was lost in the sight. “I can’t believe I finally get to meet you.”

“We can barely believe it ourselves,” Martha nodded. She wiped her brow with her forearm, too concentrated on her granola bar and coffee to put either down. “Thank you for allowing us to witness this.”

“…and the Doctor and I thank you for doing everything you have to keep our son and me safe,” Clara replied. The baby at her breast fussed and she shifted it around so she could burp him against her shoulder. “He doesn’t know it yet, but he shall, one day, and he shall be extremely thankful. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’ll take a case of not destroying the world as an example of being ‘extremely grateful’,” Martha scoffed. She turned towards Kate, who was simply sitting down on an arm of the couch, taking in the fact that everything was now quiet. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m getting too old to think about a career shift into midwifery,” she joked weakly. She stood and stretched, bringing her arms up over her head before out to her sides. “Mind if I go to bed?”

“The afterbirth was quick, we don’t need a guard when the baby cries because there’s soundproofing, and at this point we’re just observing—go ahead,” Sullivan said. She was in the kitchenette putting together tea, as everyone in the room desperately needed it. “I’ll call you in case of an emergency.”

“Good.”

At that, Kate hazily exited the room and made her way through Mainframe UK in an effort to go back to her office without being seen by any of the other staff. She felt dead-tired, as helping during medical procedures was a different sort of crisis than what she was used to dealing with, and knew she wasn’t wearing it well. Finally making it into her office, she hit the panel that opened her panic room and only just remembered to set the functions to barracks before closing the door and half-collapsing on Malcolm as he laid in bed, jolting him awake.

“Fuck—! Love, you look like hell,” he muttered as he figured out what was going on. He looked at her clothes and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You really look like someone dragged you through a fucking Hammer Horror set.” He was able to sit her up and gently strip her blouse off—the worst offender of her look in general—and get the blanket around her before settling back down again.

“We have a son,” she murmured as they finally got comfortable. Her eyes were closed and she was too comfortable to glance up and see the concerned look on her husband’s face. “We’ll visit later.”

“Yeah.”

It figured, he thought, that the dream he had once been trapped in was only that: a dream and not reality. A younger Lex, a smaller version of Fiona, he had been bracing himself for, but another him…? The Son of Tucker? He wasn’t entirely certain he was ready, despite the time they’d had to prepare and that nagging feeling in the back of his mind saying that something was going to go not entirely according to plan. A snore reached his ears and he realized that Kate was already asleep, too tired to care about anything other than the fact they were horizontal and rather cozy in preparation for a decent lie-in. He settled his chin atop her head and exhaled heavily.

Malcolm Petair Alexander Tucker was fucking terrified.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was almost lucky for them, Kate and Malcolm had decided, that they were on opposite shifts for a decent chunk of the month of May, as it presented them the perfect cover as to why they were constantly in Mainframe UK. They were seen in the canteen more, in the corridors more, appeared at all times of day and night, and seemed to cycle through the same five or six outfits with disturbing precision. That was why no one cared to notice that they were walking together in the Mainframe constantly, as otherwise they would never see one another, and why no one bothered to take note of the fact they were walking into the medbay almost every day, as when a pair wanted to have a chat, the medbay’s winding corridors and sometimes darkened wards were perfect places to generally waste time short of actually going outside.

This morning, however, Director Stewart and Head of Public Relations and Communications Tucker seemed to walk with a different sort of air to them, which the molemen and other staff members tried to ignore. There was not a lift in their step, per say, but something else—something none of them could place. So, they went about their business, attempting to ignore their superiors in the ruse of privacy, and grumbled to themselves about how their husbands and wives and other loved ones weren’t around—the price they paid for keeping home and work leagues more separate that Stewart and Tucker did.

Stepping into the medbay, the couple went into Clara’s room to see that the young woman was now finally looking as tired as she should. She was sitting up in bed, simply staring at the baby in her arms, marveling at his very existence as he slept peacefully.

“Up for visitors?” Kate asked as they entered the room. Clara’s attention was caught and her beaming expression turned towards them.

“Yes, please, come on in,” she insisted. “I don’t know how long Baby Lethbridge-Stewart here is going to keep behaving, so enjoy it while it lasts.”

“As proud as Dad would have been to know I was raising the Doctor’s kid, I don’t think he should be a full-fledged Lethbridge-Stewart,” Kate explained as she sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Malcolm and I were actually considering ‘Tucker-Stewart’ instead, since we had decided to leave our surnames alone when it came to marriage, meaning it makes the most sense to combine them for the child. I think the Lethbridges will understand.”

“…as if they even care the lad exists,” Malcolm snarked while making tea. “It’s not like it’d matter, anyhow—Lethbridge-Stewart, Tucker-Stewart, it’s all fucking posher than I ever thought I’d do for a kid.”

“Well, he is the child of a Time Lord,” Clara noted. She watched the baby open his eyes and lethargically close them again—he was just as tired as her. “I know we briefly touched on the topic a couple weeks ago, but are you sure that you want me to help name him?”

“He’s still your son,” Kate assured. She and Clara exchanged a look only two mothers could, acknowledging an understanding that went unspoken.

“So…?” Malcolm wondered from the kitchenette. “What’s the rest of the nip’s name?”

“I was thinking about suggesting Conall, if you’ll let me,” she replied, slowly nodding. She looked at the baby and nearly saw him smile. “I like the name, it’s strong, but it doesn’t sound like it would be odd for a child to have as well.”

“Sounds like a fucking old man’s name to me,” Malcolm frowned. “Conall was a great-granddad for me, and I think there’s another one hiding back in Kate’s family too, yeah?”

“The name is not foreign to my family, this is correct,” Kate said. “It sounds like it suits him. Did you think about a middle name too?”

“Yeah,” Clara said, accepting the chamomile from Malcolm, “I want his middle name to be Basil—it’s a name the Doctor has been giving lately while we’re out and it suits him as well. It’s impossible to give him his father’s real name, so that’s the closest thing I’ve got: Conall to honor his adoptive family and Basil for a tie to his father’s legacy.”

Malcolm nodded quietly at that as he perched himself on the arm of a nearby chair, tea in-hand and contemplating her words. “What about Conall David? Maybe Conall James? Conall Oswald? Your family’s allowed to pass something along.”

“No; Conall Basil.” The newborn began to fuss and his mother exhaled heavily as she passed over her tea in order to feed him. “I can’t give him his father’s real name, so this is the closest I can get without things becoming too dangerous.”

“Better than some names and reasons behind them, I guess,” Malcolm shrugged. He watched as the baby was fed, burped, and laid back down in its mother’s arms, its tiny stomach having filled quickly. “Conall Basil Tucker-Stewart… fuck, the lad’s going to grow up hating us…”

“It’s not that bad,” Kate insisted as she passed Clara her tea back. “It’s a good name.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “It’s all still so surreal though—it’s felt like ages since I first came down here, and now… just look at him.” Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, alerting the other two in the room that she was not yet done with whatever fucking hormone it was that made her apt to crying.

“Good thing you popped out when you did, lad,” Malcolm chuckled. “Dunno if any of us could’ve lasted much longer down here in this dungeon, Mam included.” He went to Clara’s side and placed his hand atop the baby’s head, which caused it to look at him curiously. “Don’t give me sass already; my heart can’t take it.”

“Would you like to hold him?” Clara asked. Malcolm nearly did a double-take as he put his tea down.

“I'm getting him for the rest of my life—you keep him for now. The lad’s comfortable anyhow.”

“Please; I want to see the two of you together. I want to see a father and son.”

Wordlessly nodding, Malcolm accepted the child and allowed Clara to slide him into his arm. Conall grunted as he was handed off, irritated that his cozy spot was now gone. The baby shifted slightly and closed his eyes, ignoring the new person holding him.

“This feels different,” he mused aloud. “Holding Lex as a wee babe didn’t feel like this.”

“How did she feel as a baby?” Clara wondered.

“Like I was going to help her get into the best possible trouble,” he replied. “This... well... Conall feels like that too, but like something else as well... as though all that trouble his cousin got into will be too much and not enough at the same time.”

“Sounds about right,” she smirked. “He’s going to be a handful, that’s for certain. Oswald’s bravery, Ravenwood’s adventurousness, and an extraterrestrial’s restlessness... you’re in for a treat.”

“Let’s not forget the Lethbridge-Stewart sense of duty and the Tucker Temperament,” Kate chuckled. “He will be a unique child, that is for certain.”

“Can’t wait until he shouting his fucking head off at me for reasons yet unknown though probably caused by puberty,” Malcolm joked. “Good thing we live in a Home County and far from our neighbors... though, fuck, when will he reach puberty? When I’m fucking ninety?”

“We have good reason to believe that he will age at a normal Human rate until a random point in adulthood, at which his Gallifreyan biology will take over,” Kate said. “We have records of a Time Lady ageing alongside Humans as part of a long game plot, so anything is possible, technically speaking.” Conall then began to croak and fuss, waving around his tiny fists. “Give him here.”

“Nah; I got him,” Malcolm insisted. He shifted Conall so that they were chest-to-chest and paced around the room. Bouncing the boy as he went, he was able to get him to calm, impressing their audience greatly.

“Looks like someone has to eat their words about not being dad material,” Kate chuckled. She allowed Malcolm to approach and give her a peck on the lips before he continued soothing the child. “A dab hand at this, aren’t we?”

“Living in Marcia’s basement when Lex was born meant that I had to pitch in when she was wailing loud enough to wake the fucking dead. Why do you think sharing a flat with Jamie and Cal seemed like a good idea at any point in my life? At least I could sleep around those shits.”

“How old is she again?” Clara asked.

“My niece? Twenty-seven, and still one of the best people I’ve got in my life.” He sat back down on a chair and allowed Conall to go to sleep against his chest. “Yeah, m’wee lad—you’re going to have plenty of old people to give you attention. There aren’t any other babes in the family right now, meaning we’re all yours.”

“I guess I made the right call by coming here, Mister Tucker,” Clara said. She smiled at the two, sighing wistfully as she did. “My son is in better hands than mine can ever be.”

“You’re his mam—don’t say that.”

“It’s true though,” she said, shaking her head. “I carried him for over a year, I share genetics with him, but I cannot be his mum, just as the Doctor cannot be his dad. It has nothing to do with skill or competence, but everything to do with what we cannot control. Please promise me you’ll take good care of him.”

“I promise.”

“Swear on your niece; please, can you?”

“Clara, you know this isn’t necessary—” Kate began, but she was cut off by Malcolm raising his hand. He stood and crossed the room, putting Conall back in Clara’s arms before resting one hand on the newborn’s head and holding her free hand with the other.

“I promise, swearing on the relationship I have with my beloved niece Alexandra, to take care of this child in your stead. I don’t know what a da’s supposed to be or do other than bounce a babe in his arms, but I’ll do my damnedest to figure it out.” He waited as she stared at him, attempting to gauge his honesty before nodding.

“Thank you.” Clara then passed Conall to Kate, allowing the other woman some time to hold him as well. “I don’t know how to begin thinking about repaying you two.”

“Experiencing raising a child together is going to be reward enough,” Kate said. She kissed Conall on the forehead, then glanced at her husband. “Didn’t you bring something?”

“Oh, yeah…” He went into her purse that had been set on a table and pulled out a stuffed toy penguin. Bringing it over towards Kate, he put the toy with the baby, noting how comically big it was compared to the child’s current size. “This is yours, son. I hope you like it… in time, of course. You can grow into it if need be.”

“Well would you look at that: the fearsome Malcolm Tucker sharing a tender moment with an innocent baby,” a voice said. The adults looked towards the door to see Glenn walking in, tightly holding a shopping bag closed as he did so. “The depths to your character are terrifying.”

“You’re just jealous,” Malcolm snarked as the other man made his way in. Glenn gave Clara a hug and a kiss to the cheek, which made the media man snort. “I guess we got off easy with her wanting to name the lad after his sperm donor and not you.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Glenn fired back. “Anyhow, Clara, I got you something for the baby, which I think will be just perfect for while the two of you are still here.” He reached into his bag and pulled out an orange, tiny infant bodysuit with a crest printed across the front, the sight of which made Clara laugh.

“Blackpool F.C.!” she grinned. “Starting him off right!”

“Knew you’d think so,” he nodded. Glenn then gave Malcolm a smug look, knowing that his present was well-received, whether it should have been or not.

Malcolm flipped Glenn a V and continued fussing over the stuffed penguin toy—fuck off.

[bareilles-tveit]

Meeting Peter Capaldi

Finally its time for my favorite meeting of the weekend.  This will overlap some with the Pearl story, but oh well.  I spent a lot of time in line just kind of watching Peter and freaking out about how close I was and the fact that I was going to meet him. After I met Pearl, we were right by the front of the line in the second room so I could watch Peter interacting with the fans who were already in line to meet him.  One of my favorite things to witness was this teenage boy who brought a guitar for him to sign.  We all watched as Peter signed it and then drew a Tardis on it and a couple of other random illustrations.  I couldn’t really hear what was being said, but after he finished signing and drawing, he picked the guitar up.  Next thing I knew I was about 10 feet away from Peter Capaldi as he settled in his seat and started to play the guitar.  If you think its hot on tv, just imagine seeing it in person.  I was dying a little on the inside.  The rest of the interactions were fairly normal, but I loved watching the way he’d shake people’s hands and devote his entire attention to the person in front of him.  The line slowly but surely whittled down in front of us.  He easily spent a minimum of five minutes with each person in line which is pretty incredible for a star of his stature to take that much time for everyone.  I thought given the number of people in front of us that we would easily be able to meet him before he took his break, but I was definitely wrong.  

There was this young woman in front of us who was absolutely freaking out about meeting him.  It was her first con experience and she had never met anyone famous and her first go at it was meeting the freaking doctor. Myself and a volunteer kept talking to her telling her that it would be fine, he was just a person and there was nothing to be nervous about.  If only I could have seen into the future a bit to know how much I would be eating my words later.  

Anyways Peter finished up with an autograph a little after when he was scheduled to take a break and he looked at the volunteer and then the line directly in front of him before glancing over at us in the other room.  I could hear him ask the volunteer “how many more people are in line.”  The volunteer told him about 20 and he thought for a second before the volunteer told him, “its definitely break time.” He looked over in our direction once more and we kind of made eye contact so I decided to say “And breathe….” He grinned at me and took a deep breath and then slumped down as if to lay his head on the table.  He was down for the briefest of moments before he popped back up and winked at me before giving me a grin.  I swear my heart was about to beat out of my chest at that interaction.

He had been signing autographs for about 2 hours at that point and the poor man did look pretty tired.  He was sitting in his chair and doing the signing while wearing a t-shirt, but there was a blazer hanging on a chair behind him and he stood up to put it on.  Again, I was melting inside as I watched him do it. Once he got it situated he looked back over at us and said, “I’m terribly sorry to leave, but I’ve been doing this for quite a while and I need a little break.”  He finished buttoning the blazer and then waved to us a few more times and went out a door.  

This was when Liz got a re-entry pass so she could go get dinner and Brittany and I went to go talk to Pearl for a bit more.  I also watched Evangeline Lilly interact with her fans for a bit while Peter was gone. She seems like an absolute sweet heart and even with her hair pulled up in a pony tail, was one of the most stunning people I’ve ever seen in real life.  Liz made it back into the room and shortly afterwords Peter came back in.  He looked like a brand new person, after taking a little rest.  He took of his blazer and I took a few horrible pictures of him from the other room, that I will cherish because it’s a reminder of how incredible this day was. He settled his blazer over the chair and then sat back down stretching his arms a bit before calling the next person forward.  We didn’t get to move over to the other room for a little bit so I got to continue to watch him interact with everyone.  I probably watched him interact with 20-30 different people.

When we were told to move across the room to the short part of the line, I spoke to the person in charge of handling the money and selected the photo I wanted Peter to sign.  While I was talking to him, Pearl’s handler started teasing Brittany and Liz saying they needed to get out of line if they weren’t going to pay up.  I turned to him and pointed to my eyes and then him to show I was watching him and he just laughed.  In regards to Peter’s autograph I will say it was pretty disappointing that he was charging an extra $30 to personalize the autograph, but I get it.  

I got to watch the young girl who was so nervous interact with him and was relieved to see that she completely kept her composure and handled it like a pro.  Peter’s a very soft spoken man and he kind of has a resting bitch face, but when he smiles it lights up his entire face.  We were talking about this later and we think he knows that he comes across as harsh and that’s why he winks and smiles so frequently.  As we were waiting for our turn, the woman directly in front of us turned around and said, “His accent is making me die, I can’t believe I’m hearing it in person.” I have to say I 100% agree with her.

While I was waiting for my turn a volunteer was finishing up her shift and she was getting an autograph from her.  It was really sweet to watch him interact with her and tell her how lovely it was to meet her and give her a hug.  At this point, I was right up at the front of the table and was able to see everything he was doing with the last few people in front of me.  He always drew something on everyone’s autograph which was super adorable.  The guy two people in front of me was someone he recognized (no idea if it was from a panel or a photo op or what) but I thought it was impressive and sweet that Peter remembered him and said that it was lovely to see him again.  

The girl in front of my finished up, and I kind of stood there frozen in my spot until I took a deep breath and moved forward.  I slid my photograph over to him and said “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii” basically just like how it looks.  He looked up at me and smiled and held his hand out so that I could shake it.  My memory gets a little fuzzy here because I was seriously freaking out.  I’m virtually positive I looked like an idiot in front of him, but oh well.  I can remember telling him that I was very excited when he was announced as the Doctor because “The Thick of It” is one of my absolute favorite television shows.  And I loved his portrayal of Malcolm Tucker. He smiled and thanked me and told me that if I enjoyed The Thick of It, then I should really enjoy his next project because he was working with the creator again and he was really looking forward to it.  I can remember smiling and telling him I’d have to look out for it.  He asked me what my name was and I told him it was Heather and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face when he wrote it on my autograph and wrote a little message.  The photo I selected was a solo shot of him with a lot of sky in the background and as I continued to talk to him he drew stars all over the sky.  I’m pretty sure I just rambled about how much I adored him in everything I’ve seen him in.  

At this point Brittany jumps in to help me out and says, “This is your first time at Dragon con right.” Peter responded that yes it was and he was having a lovely time.  Brittany motions towards me and says, “its her first time too.”  Peter’s attention snapped back to me and he said, “Oh really?”  I told him “Yeah and that he was the one person I really wanted to see, and he was kind of my reason for coming because he meant so much to me.” My brain could hardly keep up with everything that I wanted to say and I’m pretty sure I kept rambling about things when he said, “Oh thank you so much.  I can’t believe that, come here and give me a hug.  I can’t let you go without a hug.”  Guys he was sitting in the middle of the table and I stood there kind of dumb struck and started to lean forward to hug him when I realized he was walking towards the end of the table.  He didn’t just mean hug me over the table he meant come meet me halfway and get a real hug.  

Once I realized what was about to happen I started to cry as I walked down to where he was walking towards me.  I started to hug him gently, but he wrapped his arms tightly around me and I kind of nuzzled my face into his chest without even thinking.  He must have realized that I was crying because he was hugging me tightly and rubbing circles on my back.  He pulled back and looked at me and I’m pretty sure I just said, “oh my goodness thank you so much, this means the world to me.  Thank you so so much.”  He smiled and squeezed my shoulder and said, “No thank you.” I think I rambled a bit more and he shook my friends hands and then went back to sit in his chair.

Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I walked out of the room and Liz wisely suggested I step to the side to take a minute.  The second she did, I started crying harder and Brittany and Liz started crying with me.  A volunteer came over and asked, “You Okay,” and I tried to explain that I was fine I just couldn’t believe that Peter Capaldi had just hugged me.  I watched him interact with like 30 other people and he didn’t hug any of them, but there was something in me that made him want to hug me and I don’t know what that was, but I’m so grateful for the experience. I only wish we were allowed to take photos and Brittany or Liz could have gotten a picture of it.  He was so unbelievably kind and gentle and I can honestly say I’ve never walked away from an interaction feeling so loved or appreciated.

I’ve met a lot of people at cons or stage dooring.  People that have meant a lot to me and if you had asked me in advance if Peter Capaldi would be the one that would break me, I would have said you were crazy.  That if I kept my cool while meeting David Tennant and Aaron Tveit I would be fine with Capaldi.  But I can’t even explain what meeting Capaldi was like.  It was so much more than I ever dreamed and I feel so blessed. Even now a week later, I don’t fully understand it or how much it meant to me but I still smile and get teary eyed just thinking about it.    

During the panel that we were able to attend he said that his favorite thing about Doctor Who was getting to meet people whose lives have truly been touched by his character. Maybe that’s what he saw in me, I just wanted to compliment him and tell him how much I adored him.  I never in a million years thought he would be thanking me or giving me a hug.  I didn’t buy a photo op because I was struggling with how expensive it was and I was concerned about the con being so large and being able to get to the photo op in time.  And once I got down there I was regretting my decision about not doing the photo op.  But after everything, I know that if I had done the photo op I wouldn’t have been able to afford the autograph.  And I wouldn’t have traded my 5 minute conversation and hug for a 30 second interaction and a picture.  I’m so grateful that I made the decision I did because what I got from him meant so much more than any photo ever could have. I hope he’ll come to another con near me again and I can talk to him about this experience and how much he touched my life in that short span of time.  And maybe that time I’ll be able to get a photo.  

The rest of the night I kept walking around just saying, “my heart is so full” over and over again. And it was and it is even now just thinking about it.  Thank you Peter Capaldi for being you and thank you for being amazing.  You made every ounce of anxiety and stress and nervousness about the size of Dragon Con 100% worth it.  And I hope you know just how thankful I am.