#miss fisher fanfiction

[feliciawriter]

Deep as the Pacific

A Phryne/Jack fanfiction

By Felicia Ferguson 

Note: I recently discovered Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries thanks to a friend and soul sister, Tammy. I am a writer by trade, soul, and heart. Characters draw me in, and Jack and Phryne not only drew me, but enchanted me from the first episode. After a second binge of the series (minus the movie since the reviews weren’t that keen on the storyline and the characterization), Jack and Phryne’s conversation over martinis at the end of series 2’s “Death Come Knocking” and Jack’s devastating attempt to save his heart by letting Phryne go in “Blood at the Wheel” wouldn’t leave me alone. Characters have a way of talking me into writing, lol. 

This story could be set anywhere in the canon, but I believe it works best pictured after Game, Set, & Murder. Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

1/1

Whiskey swirled in an amber eddy as Jack rolled the crystal tumbler between his hands. His drinking partner sat, as she always did, in the accompanying arm chair, sipping her own selection. Tonight, it was champagne. Appropriate, given they were cheering the successful end to another case. 

And yet, his mood was more considering than celebratory. This whirlwind of a woman had torn into his world with all the force of a Tasmanian dervish, completely upending his life professionally, but even more so personally. 

War had frozen him, scarcely allowing him to feel for fear that he would feel too much and then what little remained of him would be lost forever. Yet, she’d blown in, a warm, healing wind, melting his self-prescribed ice, luring him to not only feel again, but to feel deeply. To drink freely of the wild freedom in which she lived. He had tasted, reluctantly at first, and then returned, helpless to slake his craving. And now he longed for more. To fully embrace not only all of the emotions he’d tried so hard to avoid, but also Phryne herself. And as a woman loved not merely as a savior needed.

His voice was soft, but not tentative. He had committed to the endeavor and would see it through—no matter the end. “You once described me as having a heart as deep as the Pacific Ocean.” 

“I did,” came her lilting reply. Her eyes longed to tease, but awareness flickered under the impudent gleam as if she sensed the gravity and import. She took another sip of champagne, her gaze never leaving his. 

He broke the contact, tilting his glass and watching the whiskey move like those vast waters. Dipping, swooping. His lips twitched in wry amusement. “I must confess that you are right.”

Her mirth and satisfaction at his admission didn’t need to be seen. But still she said nothing, giving him the space to find the words he needed to speak. 

He took a quick breath. Man up, Robinson. Even Collins wouldn’t dither this much.

He found her gaze again, thankfully still patient, and open. Surely, she would know his next words. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already spoken them over and over, both in subtle looks and doubled entendres. But he’d reached the end of both, and it was time for plain speaking.  He and his heart needed a forthright answer. “I must tell you something you probably already know. Though it may be as deep as the Pacific Ocean, it is also a heart that fully loves you.” 

He paused, allowing the truth of his confession to sit between them. Her eyes had widened, and for a just a moment, fear had flickered in their depths. Having seen Rene Dubois for himself, her deep-seated reasons for the emotion were valid. Surely, she knew him well enough by now that there was no comparison between himself and that monster. But perhaps reassurance and clarity were in order. “I told you once that I didn’t want you to change. That I wouldn’t ask you to change. So let me simply ask this. Can you find some part of your heart that is just for me?” 

She sat, staring at him with those expressive gray eyes, a treasure box of emotion. The silence stretched. She would either be the end of him … or the beginning of them. 

##

Jack’s earnest, heartfelt face blurred in Phryne’s gaze. His simple, direct request waking her from a type of sleep. Phryne Fisher, a woman who threw herself into entertainments and adventures for the thrill and pleasure they afforded, claimed to know herself so well. But as it happened, she didn’t know a thing about her heart—especially as it related to one, John “Jack” Robinson. 

She enjoyed investigations with him—relished them really. The partnership toward a common goal of arresting killers. The thrill of discovering clues and especially tweaking him when she found them first. Her personal investigations of cheating spouses, thieving staff, or disappearing persons weren’t half the fun, precisely because one-half of her was missing in those solo endeavors. 

However, that was John “Jack” Robinson, Detective Inspector. What about the man alone?

In truth, though, could she separate the one from the other? He himself had tried after the car accident, telling her he wanted her to stay, but needed her to leave. She wouldn’t permit it then, so why was she giving place to the same thought now? 

Yes, Jack was a delightful playmate who matched her wits like no other. But he was also a deeply caring man. A steady rock at Janey’s grave. A wry flirt whose impish teasing could catch her off-guard. He possessed a poet’s soul, a gentleman’s bearing, and he was worth more than all the aristocracy put together. But what was he worth to her heart? When he had spoken of giving her up because the thought of her death was unbearable, his self-sacrifice had come the closest of any words to breaking her. 

So what did that mean for her heart? She recognized and accepted that it was large and leaped where angels feared to tread. She had given pieces of it to many over the years, cherishing Veronique Sarcelle, Mac, and Dot and others dearly. Holding a deep fondness for Mr. B., Aunt P, and Arthur. Even those unfortunates, mired in the unfairness of low birth, abuse, and despair, were given tokens automatically out of its deep well of compassion. All had been freely given, without request.

 But here sat Jack, asking for a piece of his own. 

She searched that emotional vessel and surprise greeted her. But what she found was absolutely and unshakably true. She blinked rapidly, and Jack’s dear face solidified. The care in his eyes had turned hesitant during her contemplative search. He leaned back, once again pulling away. His mouth opened on what was sure to be an apology. She grabbed his hand, barely wrapping his long fingers with her own. 

The earlier light flared in his eyes, and she spoke the truest words she had ever said. “You’ve had the largest part of my heart for the longest time.”

[colemorrison]

Love you like oxygen..

————

Travis sighed into the others baggy band shirt, it was different, in Sal’s room, alone, with the door closed. His blonde head laying against the other’s chest while his boyfriend softly snored. He felt safe cuddled up to his blue haired boyfriend, he felt safe as soon as the others long fingers grasped him tightly.

“I’m sorry for everything.”

Travis whispered, his now painted nails drumming against the others frame, they were both so skinny, unhealthily so. Sal always said he should eat more but what was the point he’d die anyway.

“I’ve already forgiven you Trav.”

Sal responded, his hand tightly gripping the others shoulder, the way he grounded the blonde, the way he grounded himself.

“I called you so many crude names.”

“Yes but some of them were true, and you were defending yourself the best way you knew how.”

The blue haired frowned at the tears wetting his shirt, Travis always had been emotional when he felt safe.

“I’m sorry Sally”

“Trav..”

————

I fucking love this game..

[wah-pah]

UPDATE - Chapter 14 (This is not a drill. It's happening.)

Phryne missed the train from Norfolk to London so she stays at Leasham and thinks about what could have been.

The ao3 link.

The fanfiction.net link.

Thank you so much for reading. I am sorry for how long this fic has been taking to be written and posted so be sure that your patience is noted and cherished.

Your support and feedback are always appreciated. You’re the best.

Next time (whenever that is): Paris, Phryne, and Jane.

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: If You Miss Me, Say Hello-- If You Want Me, Then Say So [15.2]

Sal's Lore (Part One)

———

A/N::: Step Out From The Inside and Say Goodnight by Bullet For My Valentine are really good songs that scream Sal for this chap if you want to give it a try <3

—————

Sal was a bitter, revenge-driven soul by the time he turned eighteen. He had fought off his wrathful demons for years, but he could only keep them at bay for so long. In fact, to this day, he remembers the turning point for him like it was yesterday. The day he stopped the war being waged in his mind.

It was cool in Nockfell, a bit chilly. October. Halloween was just around the corner. The city was just like it always was and is-- trapped in an eternal autumn where the trees are always dead, the leaves are always crunchy, the air is always crisp, and the unique scent of Granny Smith's mixed with freshly carved pumpkins was a constant.

Nockfell was stagnant. It never changed. It wasn't much and the population was so small that it was technically Nockfell Village, but one thing that no one could deny was that it was beautiful and had its interesting points.

Sal had just finished his classes for the day-- it was nearly three in the afternoon on a Friday. There was supposed to be a bonfire down at Wendigo Lake once the sun went down. The bonfire happened on this day every year. It was a Nockfell tradition to ring in the official start of their pumpkin harvest.

Pumpkins were an important part of Nockfell's rich history. Just as sugarcane harvests are something to celebrate in Louisiana and California has their lemon festivals, pumpkins were Nockfell's thing. Wendigo Lake's Annual Pre-Harvest Bonfire was important; always happened the night before the city's Pumpkin Festival.

Everyone was prepared with pumpkins littering every inch of open space possible, so the afternoon was a breath of fresh air to Sal. It was nostalgic. It was the part of his childhood he preferred, the part that wasn't so tragic.

Sal trudged home in his new pair of cornflower blue-colored Converse. His original pair had long worn away by this point, but he found another pair to replace them.

He was alone, gaze glued to the world of orange and yellow around him. All the big white houses with their wide porches looking like props from horror movies. He half expected Michael Myers to pop out of a bush. The Halloween decorations on display only helped to liven up his imagination. What he wouldn't give to have a moment with Michael Myers over their shared masks.

Children were beginning to return home now, too. They would shoot off of their buses and run straight to leaf piles that were freshly raked up by their busy fathers. Sal watched a pair of twins scatter the dead leaves all over the ground again, only for a man to stomp around the corner of his home to yell at his children for pushing his work back.

But again, Sal was alone and he couldn't have been more aware of it. It wasn't unusual. Ash went home in her car, Larry dropped by Mr. Addison's recently purchased grocery store to collect his weekly work check, and Todd went to Neil's house for the weekends.

It was just Sal on Friday afternoons. Him and his constantly raging thoughts. And his feet crunching leaves and pine needles that littered the sidewalk. And his shoulder-length azure hair billowing in the soft breeze. His fingers pulling at the straps of his backpack.

Most importantly about this particular day's scene was that Sal felt numb. He was tired-- exhausted. Completely drained and so sick of acting like he had forgiven the person who tore his life apart before it had even really begun.

Everyone always said the right thing to do was forgive, but Sal didn't understand why that was the solution. He would write down the things he wanted to say to the person who ripped him apart. He cried about how disheartened he was, screamed at his ceiling while he showered, begging for the pain to go away. Forgiveness had done nothing to heal him, and he was absolutely sure that his forgiveness didn't matter to his mother's murderer.

For far too long, he had held back every single emotion and reaction that he should've gotten out. He was starting to wonder why he ever did that in the first place. In the way shaking a bottle of soda would cause it to burst, Sal was doing the same with his own feelings. He was constantly being shaken up and he knew he would blow any second at that point. He kept trying to push it down, but on that day, walking along Nockfell's near empty streets, Sal suspected his moment was right around the corner.

Cutting away at his skin offered only little relief at one point, but now it did nothing. He itched for emotional release, for catharsis-- but he was too afraid to look for it and didn't know how to achieve it. He was stuck. At a dark, twisted standstill with himself.

All he ever felt deep down at that time was envy and anger. He constantly craved the lives his friends lived. They were able to show off their faces in peace. They slept well at night, and for eight full hours he begrudgingly presumed. They had their parents, their families. Sal had his dad and he had his friends-- he was grateful for them, but it was just never enough. No matter how badly he wanted what he already had to be enough. He was always yearning for something, but he could never really figure out what it was that he wanted.

Did he want someone to love? Someone to love him? A face? His mother? A good night's sleep?

Sal was disgusted with himself, with his indecisive and ungrateful shit. With his horrible luck. He was his own personal pity party. How pathetic.

He couldn't do a single thing. Sal was just doomed to suffer forever.

He was starting to feel restless, like a zip-tie pulled too tight, just seconds away from snapping. And the sudden howl from beside him only tightened that tie. He went rigid in his stance, one foot caught mid-step. His head snapped up, blue hair falling into the eyeholes of his prosthetic, tickling his eyelashes.

Sal brushed his hair away from his face when a little giggle followed the scream he'd just heard-- he wasn't about to be attacked. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

He blinked at two teenagers running around someone's front lawn. They looked happy, energetic. Unbothered by the terrors of the world around them. He felt jealous, but he felt like scoffing at their ignorance too. Didn't they know that people were suffering somewhere in the world? How could they be so carefree-- how could they be happy?

Sal had to remind himself every single day that he couldn't actually think that way about other people. Everyone was allowed to be happy at some point, he was allowed some relief too. He just didn't get it often enough for it to really... matter.

But one little splash of joy in his deadened life was curled up in his bed at home and waiting for his afternoon snack. So Sal turned his attention away from the happy kids, focused on getting home yet again. But when his head swerved to look back to the placement of his feet, he noticed a pair of shoes a few steps away from him.

Sal's gaze traveled up the person's body, his blood going ice cold once he realized that it was Travis standing before him. Not to mention, the horrified expression on the bully's face was a bit startling to the bluenette.

Travis's face was always bruised or scratched in some form or another. Sal felt a bit morbid when thinking that Travis's abused skin just so happened to bring out the mahogany shade of his dark eyes. And the bully's hair was in a purposefully messy state that was just so exemplary to Sal. Even if the dark roots of his bleached hair needed to be dyed again, he still managed to make it into something attractive. Sal was, again, envious. But more prominent than his envy was his rage and his fear.

Sal stood there, assessing Travis's fearful figure with wide, wary eyes, even if only one of them worked anymore.

A wave of disdain cursed Sal. Every single day, he had to find a way around Travis and that afternoon he had to do it again. He should have been free of his bully for the rest of the weekend, so what business did Travis have there?

Whether their interactions were verbal or bloody, Sal still despised having to so much as be in the blonde asshole's vicinity. He didn't mind watching Travis-- watching him was simple, noninvasive, and even interesting at times. But actually having to be near him and listen to his insults? Sal would rather avoid that.

So he tried to go for the ignorance route-- sidestep Travis and pretend he never saw him. But as soon as Sal took a single step forward, Travis barked out his name. It was so frantic and desperate that Sal couldn't help but flinch. And despite his better judgement, Sal stopped moving. He couldn't help it, the pause was instinctual. He stared at Travis, wide-eyed and trying to hold up a half decent glare.

Travis and Sal had one singular moment of understanding years ago-- their freshman year of high school. The bully's vulnerability now reminded Sal of their one moment. The bluenette had always been too empathetic to ignore someone in need-- even if it was Travis who bothered him to no end when Sal happened upon him crying in the bathroom one day.

But that didn't matter anymore, or it shouldn't at least because the day after that moment, Travis reverted back to his well-known asshole persona. Sal had been so disappointed in himself for wasting his time that day a few years back. He thought he had finally made a friend of the closed-off bully, but it turned out that nothing changed.

On the sidewalk, standing before Travis, Sal was reminded of the day a stall door separated the two young men. Watching the more grown up version of Travis made Sal feel like he was just going to waste his time again by assuming that the blonde had changed. Sal shouldn't keep hoping for change, but he couldn't help it.

Sal continued to wait to hear him out anyway. Watched a fidgety, red-faced Travis who looked like he was about to have a panic attack.

"I'm moving," Travis finally spoke, his voice was quivering. "Away from Nockfell."

That was news to Sal. Not like it mattered much-- this just meant that he could finally be at peace with his not-so-normal, every day life. If anything, Sal was actually elated.

"And I'll probably never see you again," Travis continued, looking off to the side. "So I wanted to tell you something. Before I go." The boy frequently paused, unable to really look Sal in the eye or keep the tremor from his deep voice.

Sal chewed on his scarred bottom lip, trying to ignore the way it felt like biting on ripped leather. "If it's to call me a freak like you've done for the past four years, you can just leave now," he snapped, his tone soft like it always was because God forbid he release all the pent up rage and aggression. Losing his filter in front of Travis was never on Sal's list of things to accomplish.

Sal could hear Travis audibly gulp at the cold words directed at him. "No," Travis squeaked, "I-- I never meant any of that."

Sal scrunched his face up at such a sad attempt at a lie. The tip of his nose brushed the inside of his prosthetic, teeth bared as he snorted tastelessly, "Could have fooled me." Just like he thought-- a waste of time.

Without a moment of hesitation, the bluenette stepped onto the curb of the street, passing up Travis. He didn't look at him, didn't acknowledge his presence anymore. He was done dealing with this asshole. He had a date with Gizmo, Travis didn't matter.

Sal resurfaced on the opposite side of Travis, their backs to each other. He tried to clear his mind, to ignore the burning rage scratching at his spine. Travis was leaving, things were going to be better. He just had to remember that. He had to hold onto that.

"I'm in love with you!" A soft, almost inaudible whimper followed that declaration. "I always have been..."

Sal's mind turned to mush. He suddenly couldn't think, couldn't form words or comprehend what was just said. He simply took pause-- his steps and thoughts simultaneously ceasing. He was at a standstill with the rest of the world around him. Where was he even supposed to start in dissecting what Travis had just said?

Sal's heart thrummed wildly inside his chest. He was enraptured by the prospect of being loved-- didn't matter who loved him. It was the fact that maybe just one person loved him romantically. But then again, how could anyone love him? Especially homophobic, ableist Travis of all people. What was going on here? Obviously Travis was lying, but why would he drag himself down with Sal? What was the purpose?

Sal didn't know how to calm his mind, he didn't know how to pick a side. He wanted to be excited so badly, but he knew better. He knew that this was just another one of Travis's devious plots in stomping him into his grave. Sal grew increasingly disappointed in himself. Every. Single. Day. But hoping for Travis to love him? Trusting it even if just for a moment? Getting excited over it? That was breaking boundaries. He needed to draw the line for himself.

But the issue was that he had already crossed that line he was struggling to build last minute. All of the build up over the past few years was coming to a breaking point and he could feel it. He could smell it. He could taste it. The numbness traveled throughout his entire body-- it was in his blood, in his bones, in his DNA by this point and he was going to snap. There was no holding it back anymore.

Sal turned his head over his shoulder to address Travis, hands clenching into fists as he fought for clarification, for just a moment of relief. His fingernails bit into his palms, a sweet little stinging sensation following the sudden puncture. "What?" He snapped at Travis.

Travis took a breath, his entire body rising with the intake. Sal's gaze was caught in a snare-- eyes glued to the bully's red cheeks and watery eyes. "Do you remember when you found me crying all those years ago?" He asked Sal, voice cracking and quivering. Had Sal not been so pissed off and confused and saddened and every other emotion in the world, he'd have been intoxicated by the sound of Travis tripping over himself. "I was just beginning to acknowledge my feelings for you that day," he continued, swiping a hand over his bruised cheek. Travis' lips trembled, effectively showing off the healing cut on his bottom lip.

"I wrote it all down to try and get the thoughts out of my head, but it only got worse. I couldn't--" Travis stopped, clutching his shaky hands to his chest. "It was hard for me. I shouldn't be gay, I can't be. But... I've learned over the past three years that I am. And I've loved you from the start, no matter how much I hate to admit it."

Sal's head began shaking immediately. He was in disbelief for multiple reasons. The audacity of Travis to-- to... the audacity. There was no way Sal was going through this right now. He couldn't believe it. He refused to-- for his own sake. But that damn expression on Travis's face struck fear and relief in Sal's heart. And he fucking hated it.

It was relief for himself. Maybe he wasn't unloveable. And apparently Travis didn't hate him, he was just struggling with his sexual orientation. Relief for Travis for finally accepting himself and his feelings-- for being brave enough to be honest about it. Sal didn't want to be relieved though, he wanted to be angry. Which is exactly why he didn't want to hold back anymore. He couldn't keep doing it. Fuck everyone else, he had to ride or die for himself. He was the only one who ever would.

Travis might have been gay, but there was no way he could love Sal. It was impossible. The devil and angel battling on his shoulders was finally chipping away at the last bit of resolve that Sal had held up all those years. It was a cave in the trunk of a tree, and that tree was starting to tip over. This was the end.

He was tired of the lies. Tired of the excuses. Tired of the tip-toeing-- either to protect him or at his expense. Sal didn't need protecting and he sure as hell didn't want it to begin with. He didn't need someone trying to convince him that he was a freak either. Because he was a freak. And, right then, with his blood pumping and rage consuming his very essence, maybe being a freak wasn't such a bad thing.

Sal's fists squeezed even tighter, his fingertips smeared with his own blood by that point. He was done in every sense of the word. In every meaning. Completely and utterly finished. The days where he once wasted his time and bowed down to everyone were over.

He blinked past the red sheen in his vision, eyes locked on Travis who looked like he was about to faint, cry, piss himself-- he wasn't sure but it was something.

And again though, Sal couldn't care less about anyone else's feelings, let alone Travis's.

"F--" Sal seethed behind his prosthetic, instinctually biting into his tongue while his lips pulled back in a frustrated, angry snarl. His vocal cords were betraying him, trying to stop him from saying what he really wanted to say. Wanted to remind him of his calm exterior and to hold up his good reputation. That was old Sal, though. New Sal said what he thought-- what he felt.

"Fuck you."

The seal was broken. Sal's last ledge of hope disappeared, leaving the young man to free fall in his own rage and revenge-driven vices. The fight was over. The war was won. Wrath had prevailed.

"Fuck you," Sal spat out again, voice so aggressive that it nearly turned into a yell. "I'm fucking tired of your manipulation. Don't you know how pathetic you are? You're a waste. Such a waste of space, a waste of time. What was the point of torturing me for years just to come spew some bullshit about love at me? You don't love me-- you don't even fucking love yourself."

Travis flinched, falling a step or two away from the monster Sal had suddenly become. The tears that had been building in the bully's eyes finally spilled over his flushed cheeks. His mouth worked wordlessly while he stared at Sal for a bit. He bent over to hide his face, furiously wiping at his wet skin.

He took a quick breath then lifted his head again, a deadly glare quickly being directed at Sal. It was the same expression the bully wore every day. And Sal matched it with his own. He was ready, prepared for everything and anything. He'd beat Travis into the ground if he had to. Honestly, he'd feel better if he was able to get his frustrations out. Adding another pretty bruise to Travis's face felt like the best way to do just that.

Neither boy said a word, they only glared at each other for two beats of silence, and an extra beat of contemplation.

Then Travis started stomping over to Sal who was only four or so steps away, his bruised fingers squeezing into fists. Sal recognized that stance, that walk, so he prepared himself with one foot in front of the other and dropped his backpack to the ground.

"You're right. I don't love myself," Travis murmured, voice condescending. Sal held his ground confidently.

Travis hadn't seen that from Sal before. The bluenette would usually just step away and try to leave the scene— but Sal's confidence didn't deter the bully either.

"I'm sorry," Travis ground out behind clenched teeth. "I don't know how to prove it to you."

"What?" Sal laughed humorlessly, breath growing rapid to match his racing heart as Travis trekked closer. "Fighting me is how you'll prove it?"

Travis's brows bunched together in confusion for a fraction of a second. He stopped right in front of Sal, the toes of their shoes brushing and their chests just a hairsbreadth away from each other. "No," Travis breathed in disbelief, shaking his head lightly.

The bully could see everything in Sal's pretty blue eyes. The baby blue of a clear day's sky. The brightest stars in the universe captured in his irises, showing him a world of opportunity. A world of dreams. Everything he wanted. But he could also see the desperate anger in those pretty eyes that he seemed to love so much.

And Sal couldn't quite comprehend what was going on in Travis's head, didn't understand when he leaned down and pressed his lips to his prosthetic either. But the pressure was there, he could see the top of Travis's head and marveled at how impossibly close he was. And then the little kiss to his lips.

Sal's real lips parted, absolute bewilderment taking hold of him. His heart fluttered with thousands of cruel butterflies, his stomach churned with wildflowers and warm sunshine. He couldn't understand how a meaningless, fake kiss could light him up like a carnival but there he was.

Travis separated himself from Sal, wary and watery eyes watching the boy he loved through two little holes.

Sal simply looked back at him, eyes wide and his entire body trembling with adrenaline.

There was a second snap in Sal's mind that day. A snap that allowed him to see that while he loathed Travis with all his being, he felt connected to him too. He didn't by any means love the bully, but the surprise affection awakened him to something he didn't know existed within him.

And later that night, Ash, Todd, and Larry got an excuse that Sal wasn't feeling well and that he'd be skipping the bonfire.

In reality, he and Travis were hidden somewhere in Nockfell's forest, spending Travis's last day together. Sal had his first real kiss, one that went past the surface of his prosthetic. He had many other kisses that night too. He had a lot of desperate moments, Travis had a lot of desperate moments too. They were desperate together.

They found serenity, peace, and the depths of desperation in each other. They found anger, they found depression, they found secrets. They created secrets and they carried them well, kept them hidden for a long time. With certain exceptions on Travis's part— unknown to Sal, of course.

Sal will never forget the moment he pulled off his prosthetic in the darkened woods. Travis had looked over him, smiled, and kissed him again.

They stayed out well past midnight and Sal hoped Gizmo would forgive him for not making it back in time for their afternoon cuddle session, but this was too important. Sal hadn't known how, but it mattered. It mattered a lot.

It changed him. And when he and Travis parted ways that night, both boys knew it was the start and end to whatever little opportunity was there. They wouldn't try for more. They got their hours and that was enough.

Sal went back to Addison Apartments, Travis went back to his parents yelling at their near empty home.

And they never spoke again.

————

A/N:::: heyo :3 figured I'd started this up. I've had a few comments saying that Motherf*cker Sal is SO unlike canon Sal, which is true. But this is a universe where instead of being soft and shy to the end, Sal got tired of being something he wasn't. He was never whole, never healed from his trauma and his past— that's very evident in the game. So here, Sal snaps and develops a new persona. He's cold and a bit closed off, but most importantly, he tries not to bottle up his emotions. He gets out what he's feelings instead. He's still lovable and so sweet, just not to certain people for certain reasons ;)

This is one of either three or four parts. I'm not quite sure yet— but anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

As always, thank you for the continued support! I love you all so incredibly much💕

our first chapter back with a new title </3 :,)))

[phoenixyfriend]

How are there zero crossovers on AO3 for Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries and June's Journey.

How is that not a thriving vintage femslash community?

[galadriel1010]

Ficathon gifts round up

First of all, thank you so much to everyone who has aided, abetted and encouraged me in this truly mad undertaking. It has been so wonderful to have the chance to write for so many people, many of whom I've not really met before, and I couldn't have done it without huge amounts of help. I cannot possibly name you all, but know that you are amazing.

The full collection is located here, and the list is below the cut.

Family, in all ways that matter (926 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Mr Butler Additional Tags: Family, Home, Gossip, Mr Butler's family

Summary:

Mr Butler takes a holiday to visit his sister-in-law, and fills her in on his new life at Wardlow.

It Matters (1027 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Georgina Charlesworth & Phryne Fisher Characters: Phryne Fisher, Georgina Charlesworth Additional Tags: Grief, Janey Fisher - Freeform, mentoring

Summary:

Georgina takes a wayward and hurting Phryne under her wing in the wake of Janey's disappearance

Whisky and a Sympathetic Expression (1058 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson, Phryne Fisher & Jack Robinson & Jane Ross, Jack Robinson & Jane Ross Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson, Jane Ross (Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries) Additional Tags: Found Family, Family, Home

Summary:

Jack comes home to Wardlow after a bad day in court and finds comfort in his family.

Love Lingers in Corners (1153 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hugh Collins/Dorothy "Dot" Williams, Dorothy "Dot" Williams & Tobias Butler, Phryne Fisher & Dorothy "Dot" Williams Characters: Dorothy "Dot" Williams, Tobias Butler, Cecil "Cec" Yates, Albert "Bert" Johnson Additional Tags: Friendship, Found Family, Loneliness

Summary:

Dot struggles to find herself in Miss Fisher's absence.

The Word on the Muddy Streets (1301 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jack Robinson & Elsie Tizzard Characters: Jack Robinson, Elsie Tizzard Additional Tags: Friendship

Summary:

Jack gets an unexpected visitor.

You Heard Rumours (1555 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: POV Outsider, Period Typical Attitudes

Summary:

One of Phryne's clients gets to see the truth of the rumours about Miss Fisher for herself, and has a bit of a personal revelation.

In Your Hands (2300 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson Additional Tags: Pegging, Trust, Praise Kink, Trust Kink, Kink Discovery

Summary:

She'd taken an impish, intoxicating delight in finding all the things that she could do to bring him pleasure. And for his part, he'd found a joy in putting himself so completely in her hands. Phryne pegs Jack for the first time, and they both love it,

What Sundays Were Made For (1698 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Elizabeth MacMillan/Rosie Sanderson Characters: Elizabeth MacMillan, Rosie Sanderson Additional Tags: Cunnilingus, Morning Sex, Breast Play

Summary:

Just Mac and Rosie on a lazy Sunday morning

At Home To You (1682 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson Additional Tags: Injury Recovery, Minor Injuries, Caretaking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship

Summary:

With Phryne laid up in bed with a broken ankle, Jack comes round to visit and cheer her up.

Trust, Care and Protectiveness (1157 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher & Jack Robinson Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson Additional Tags: Minor Injuries, Caretaking, Discreet snooping, Friendship

Summary:

When Jack is lightly injured on the job, Miss Fisher takes him home to apply TCP to his injuries, and takes the opportunity for some discreet looking around his house.

Habit Forming (1940 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Elizabeth MacMillan & Dorothy "Dot" Williams, Dorothy "Dot" Williams & Tobias Butler, Hugh Collins/Dorothy "Dot" Williams Characters: Elizabeth MacMillan, Dorothy "Dot" Williams, Hugh Collins, Tobias Butler Additional Tags: Friendship, Women Supporting Women, Some gentle coercion required, Family Politics

Summary:

Dot finds a way to use her specialist skills to support the work of the Women's Hospital. She may need to use some of Miss Fisher's specialist skills as well.

Made to Measure (1117 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Elizabeth MacMillan Additional Tags: Queer History, Queer Themes, Clothing, Backstory

Summary:

Mac gets her first suit fitted

Moonlight Waltzing (1117 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson Additional Tags: Semi-Public Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Party

Summary:

Phryne teases Jack all night, then he fucks her in the hotel garden.

Mad Fools (2419 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson, Phryne Fisher & Lyle Compton Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson, Lyle Compton Additional Tags: Historical References, adventuress, Aviation, Established Relationship, Spontaneous Trip, Reunions

Summary:

Phryne and Compton take part in the MacArthur Air Race. Jack travels to Sydney to meet her early.

The Lady Calls (1743 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson Additional Tags: Period Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bath Sex, Caretaking, Power Couple, Established Relationship

Summary:

Jack takes care of Phryne after a long day in court during her time of the month. Dinner, a hot bath and his very skilful hands.

Something in the Rain (864 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson Additional Tags: Dancing in the Rain, London

Summary:

Jack, Phryne, the London rain and the distant sound of jazz.

We Cross These Bridges Together (1468 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson Characters: Jack Robinson, Phryne Fisher Additional Tags: Abortion, abortion rights

Summary:

When Phryne needs an abortion, Jack is reminded suddenly and painfully of the risks of unsafe abortions, and the dangers imposed by criminalisation.

Your 'What If' (987 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Elizabeth MacMillan/Rosie Sanderson Characters: Elizabeth MacMillan, Rosie Sanderson Additional Tags: Background Phryne/Jack, Past Jack Robinson/Rosie Sanderson - Freeform

Summary:

Mac and Rosie talk about the twists and turns in their lives that brought them to the happiness they have found together.

Time Enough (1635 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson Additional Tags: Reunions, Jack follows Phryne, Second Time, Morning After, Morning Cuddles

Summary:

Jack and Phryne in her hotel room the morning after she meets him in Naples.

Making the Most (1814 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jack Robinson/Rosie Sanderson Characters: Jack Robinson, Rosie Sanderson Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Penis In Vagina Sex, Family Fluff

Summary:

Jack comes home from a night shift, shares breakfast with Rosie and their family, and then she takes care of him.

The Benefits of Friendly Coercion (1677 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Elizabeth MacMillan/Rosie Sanderson, Phryne Fisher & Elizabeth MacMillan Characters: Elizabeth MacMillan, Phryne Fisher, Rosie Sanderson Additional Tags: Birthday, Birthday Party, Flirting

Summary:

At Mac's birthday party, she shares a moment with Phryne and is reunited with Rosie Sanderson.

In His Hands (1656 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson Additional Tags: Kink Exploration, Kink Discovery, Light Bondage, Restraint, Overstimulation

Summary:

Phryne asks Jack to tie her to the bed and have his way with her.

The Trying that Counts (1130 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson, Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: World War I, Military Backstory, Reunions

Summary:

After her return to Melbourne, Phryne is reunited with a face from her past.

Us and the Roses (2301 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson, Rosie Sanderson, Prudence Stanley, Lyle Compton Additional Tags: Reunions, Rumours and Gossip, wild speculation, Rumoured Jack/Rosie

Summary:

At a party to celebrate her return to Melbourne and her amazing flight, Aunt Prudence breaks the news to Phryne that Jack and Rosie have rekindled their relationship. Phryne doesn't believe it for a second. Honest.

Miss Ross Investigates (1814 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Jane Ross (Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries) Additional Tags: Case Fic, Boarding School, Girls' School Adventures, Investigations

Summary:

Jane takes it upon herself to investigate a case of bicycle theft at her school.

[beatrice-otter]

A Spy on the Golden State Train

crossworks is over for the year, so I can reveal what I wrote! I wrote an Agent Carter/Miss Fisher crossover called A Spy On The Golden State Train. I'd never actually watched Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries before getting this assignment; I'd seen the gifsets and posts on tumblr, but that was all. But I wasn't feeling inspired by what I was matched on, and there were a few episodes of Miss Fisher on Youtube, so I watched enough of that to get a feel for the characters and used the wiki to check the details, and here it is!

Title: A Spy on the Golden State Train Author: beatrice_otter Fandom: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries/Agent Carter Characters: Phryne Fisher, Dottie Underwood, Peggy Carter Written For: veryrach  in Crossworks 2023 Rating: Gen Length: 3978 words Summary: Phrynne has a little bit of excitement on her first trip to America after the Second World War.

Phryne's book was not as exciting as the cover had promised, but it was the best entertainment she had at the moment. Next time I want to cross America, I shall take an aeroplane, she promised herself. The views of the Rocky Mountains had been breathtaking, but the great plains were, well, plain. And endless. And alas, there were very few people on this train interesting enough to be worth watching on their second day together.

Well, they would be in Chicago soon enough, and the nightlife there would be worth the wait. After years of a war on Australia's own front doorstep, she was eager for a city that hadn't been directly touched by it. Phryne was wearing red and was eager to show the world it was well-earned.

Read the rest on AO3 or Squidgeworld or Dreamwidth.

[tboryana]

One of the biggest Miss Fisher Mysteries is that @rositalg is a fan who has done so much for this fandom, and I don't even know who she is. The impressive thing is that she does it so quietly and without looking for popularity for herself. And I hope with all my heart that she has more to write ❤️🙏🏻 (No pressure but if one day the number becomes 39 I'll scream. A lot. )

[muse-oleum]

Blind Dates OC Challenge: Lady Victoria Crawley

Fandoms: Downton Abbey/Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries

Time period: 1920s/30s

Face claim: Elisa Cifuentes in Las Chicas del Cable

So, hum, I haven't written on here in a veryyyy long time, forgive my rustiness. I've been toying with an idea for a crossover between Downton Abbey and Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries ever since I first watched the shows, because it just makes sense lol. This is my introduction to Lady Victoria Crawley, fourth and last child of Lord and Lady Grantham.

I wanted to participate in @mercurygray 's Blind Dates OC challenge, and thought it would be the perfect opportunity for me to write something *not* academia related. I hope you enjoy this first snippet of Victoria and perhaps there shall be more...

Victoria missed the Antipodes. She missed Christmas in the sun, the hustle and bustle of the city, the constant activity she had known for the past two years, living far away from home and yet as alive as she had ever felt. But she missed her friends the most.

She missed Phryne’s laugh and Dot’s sweet smile; she missed Jack’s skepticism and Hugh’s clumsiness, and even her two favorite commies had found a place in her heart, though she would deny it if anyone asked. They would happily throttle her if they ever heard her use that word, but she couldn’t help it, annoying them tickled her. 

But most of all she missed Mac. 

Mac and her stern attitude hiding a softness that few people ever truly got to witness. Mac and her sardonic replies to Phryne’s less than stellar ideas—and there had been many; how she’d survived this far, she’d never understand. Mac and the way she smiled softly just for her, even when she thought Victoria couldn’t see. 

She missed that smile most of all. 

Here, in England, it was so much harder to let herself truly be. But with Mac, tentatively at first, and then more fully once they’d both understood the coast was clear, that they would be safe with each other, it had been different. With her almost two decades more of experience, Mac had been a friend, at first, someone whom she could trust with her most damning secret, before it had morphed into something more. 

And just as quickly, Victoria had been called back to England, her grand-mother on her deathbed, asking for her. She hadn’t seen her once in the last two years, not since she’d left Downton behind after yet another row with her father, neither willing to bend before she’d decided to break instead. But the Dowager Lady Grantham was not someone to be refused and when she had demanded of her youngest grand-daughter that she should write to her, Victoria had made a half-hearted promise that she would. 

She regretted not keeping it, now. 

1928 was proving a difficult year for her family. Between her grand-mother’s illness, her mother’s tiredness (a false alarm, thankfully) and her own problems to face, returning to Downton in mourning had not been something to look forward to. She had left angry and she'd returned apprehensive. 

Mac would have helped, but she could hardly bring her to England while her family mourned yet another passing. She had offered, of course, wanting to be there for her as Victoria had been in the past, insisting that she could take a room at the Grantham Arms, that no one would be the wiser… But it was a lie and they both knew it. Lying, after all, was an art they had mastered; anyone in their position had to be a damn good liar in order to survive. 

And now, as she sat in the library, alone with the fire cracking in the grate, the quiet of the Abbey playing with her nerves, she wondered why she’d come home at all. And could she still call it home? It wasn’t anymore, not really. Home was with Phryne and Mr Butler, waiting for the next case to drop so they could make sure to crash down at the station, taking perverse pleasure in eviscerating Jack’s well-laid plans in moves that would have had her parents tying themselves into knots. He complained—a lot—but she knew he secretly loved it. 

She also knew that he was not so secretly half in love with Phryne, but she had an inkling that he’d rather be caught dead than admitting it. So she hadn’t pushed… yet. 

The door to the library opened, pulling her back to the present. 

“I thought I’d find you in here,” Edith said, closing the door softly behind her. 

Once upon a time, if someone had asked her which of her three elder sisters she’d most looked up to in her youth, she would have said Sybil. But after her death, she had grown closer to Edith, finding a source of comfort in her sister’s embrace, and amusement at the shrewdness she so easily disguised as passiveness. She had admired that; her ability to hide what she was feeling almost to the point of quasi-invisibility. A wallflower, that’s what Mary had called her, once, when she was feeling particularly vindictive. 

Edith may look like a flower, with her honey-blonde hair with a dash of red, which they’d both inherited from their father, her pink lips and beautiful green eyes, but she could be a thorny one too, and Mary often seemed to forget that. Victoria, on the other hand, had always been much quieter than either of her dark-haired sisters, trying to find her place as the youngest of four—and the disappointment of everybody’s hopes. But she and Edith were alike, and it had only become more apparent as they grew from girlhood to womanhood. 

Perhaps because of the age difference between Mary and herself, Victoria had never found herself on the cutting edge of her eldest sister’s sharp wit. If anything, she suspected that Mary was quite fond of her, if a little distant, as was natural for an eldest facing much larger troubles than the rearing of her littlest sister. While their twelve years difference had put a certain distance between Mary and herself, Edith and Sybil had loved to play with her, and, when the time came, taught her much more than their mother when it came to matters of the heart. And she'd learnt much.

Or at least as much as she could learn from two sisters for whom there had never been the slightest doubt that they would marry a man.

In truth, if Victoria thought long and hard about it, she remembered certain looks and allusions that Sybil had dropped, which made her think that perhaps she had known, just a bit, what her little sister was only just discovering. But then she'd died and left a gaping hole in their family that would never truly heal. 

But Edith, Victoria thought, would understand. Edith, she could tell, one day. 

“I’m very predictable,” she answered, smiling, laying her long-forgotten book on her lap. 

Her sister threw her a disbelieving look. “I wouldn’t say that,” Edith said, sitting down on the sofa next to her. “I still remember the shock on Mama’s face when you hurled yourself out of the door two years ago. Personally, I applauded you.”

“Of course you did,” she laughed, rolling her eyes. 

They fell silent, Edith lost in contemplation of the fire and Victoria pondering the qualities of sisters. On the tea table, a picture of her grandmother, all blonde curls and so young, taunted her. She quickly averted her eyes, unsettled by the clear blue gaze of a woman who was not here to scold her anymore. She noticed her sister looking at her, her eyes saddened by their recent loss but heavy with something else.

“There’s something I’d like to tell you.”

Victoria looked up from the cover of her book which she’d been fingering absent-mindedly, the silence between them natural enough that she had almost forgotten her sister’s presence. 

“It’s about Marigold.”

[afteriwake]

For your 25th -- Phrack, sapphire, 18

The prompt this one turned out to be "Throwing their arms around the other person’s neck, hugging them close before kissing them passionately on the lips." It's also an answer to the 30 Day Writing Challenge ("16. Write about a 'thank you'"). It's a lemon fic but that part is below a cut.

A Thank You For The Perfect Gift - Jack gets Phryne an anniversary fic that relates to the sparrow brooch, and she thanks him in a very pleasurable way.

READ @ AO3

Jack had taken great care to pick out the earrings for his anniversary gift. They were small gold hoops with a bird on them in the shape of a swallow, made from sapphire chips, and were a good accent to the brooch that Phryne wore often that he had given her from Mary Madison’s health van. He felt he had done quite the good job. He made his way up the steps to the door at Wardlow and heard laughter and music on the other side of the door, which made him frown. He had thought it would be just him and Phryne that evening, so company was not going to get him the reaction he had hoped for from his lover. But he knocked on the door nonetheless and when Mr. Butler answered he could see young teenage girls running back and forth between the parlour and the dining room. “My apologies, Inspector. Miss Jane decided to have a party for her friends tonight, and Miss Fisher didn’t have the heart to say no. Miss Fisher is upstairs in her bedroom. I believe she is expecting you to join her there.”

“No need to apologize, Mr. Butler,” Jack said with a small smile. “I’m sure the girls will settle before they have to go home.”

“I have hope that they will as well,” Mr. Butler replied, moving out of the way so Jack could come in. He put his hat on the hook and his jacket on the coat rack, then dodged two girls to make his way upstairs to the peacefulness of Phryne’s bedroom. He was sure it was an oasis of calm if Phryne had anything to do with it.

He knocked gently on the door and at Phryne’s soft “Enter,” he went in. It was much quieter here than it was downstairs, for which he was grateful. And the wide smile on Phryne’s face before she got our of her chair warmed him up from the chill outside.

“Jack! I was hoping you’d come tonight,” she said, going up to him and giving him a kiss. He returned it as enthusiastically as she gave it, and his troubles of the day were almost entirely forgotten. When she pulled away her arms were around his neck. “Jane has some of her friends over, to celebrate the birthdays she missed while she was in America. They’re going to be gone soon, but she was so excited and she has me wrapped around her finger, so…” She leaned in conspiratorially. “We can have our own party here in my boudoir while they have theirs downstairs.”

“I even have presents,” he said, his grin widening.

“But Jack! Our anniversary isn’t until tomorrow!” Phryne said, pulling away. She was outing, but the glint of excitement in her eye belied her feelings. Finally she moved away to sit on the bed. “Why are you giving me your gift tonight?”

“Well, this is only a small part of the gift. I was thinking that tomorrow I would take you somewhere upscale to eat, and then I have a booth for just us at a nice jazz club.” He pulled the small box out of his pocket. “I’m hoping you can find an outfit to wear these with.”

Her eyes had widened at the small box, and while he would gladly give her a ring, they weren’t at the stage of marriage yet, if they ever would be. And he was fine with the fact they may never marry; as long as she was in his life, that was all that mattered to him. Seeing her relax at his mention of the plurality of the gift just reinforced that point of view.

She carefully undid the wrapping paper and opened the small velvet jewelry box and gasped. “These are lovely!” she said, looking up at him.

“I thought they would match your brooch without being too overstated,” he said.

“They’re perfect,” she said, springing out of bed like a loaded cannon. “I have the perfect dress to wear these and the brooch with. Thank you so much, Jack.” She kissed him softly for some time, and he kissed her back, not upping the energy of the kiss, content to simply have his lips on hers.

When she pulled away, there was a twinkle in her eye. “I should give you a proper thank you.”

“And just what constitutes a proper thank you?” he asked in an amused tone. She got down on her knees and began to undo his trousers, answering his question just fine. His hands moved to her hair on their own, and when his cock had sprung free from the confines of his trousers, she caressed him for a time, running her hand up and down before taking him into her warm mouth.

He shut his eyes as she applied some suction, her tongue and lips caressing the top of his cock and the hand caressing the rest of his shaft, occasionally fondling his bollocks. This was a treat, and he knew that before the evening was over he was going to return the favour, tasting her with his tongue and plying a reaction from her with his fingers. But for now his hands balled in her hair as she began to move up and down his shaft, taking him in almost fully. Eventually it was too much and he came, his seed spilling into her mouth as she swallowed each drop.

“Was that a proper thank you?” she said, looking up at him.

“Only if you let me return the favour,” he said, knowing where their evening was going when Phryne gave him a mischievous smile. It was going to be quite a good evening, if he had anything to say about it.

[waterditinfears]

Last fic that made you cry? ☺️

So I'm not really a crier (at least not with fiction stuff) but Anthem for Doomed Youth (Star Wars WWI AU, here) got me. The setting and the inevitability of it all did me in. I unfortunately have a lit degree and one of my profs was obsessed with WWI poetry, so this hit a weak spot.

Honorable mentions to Oh the Things We Left Behind (I didn't care about DinLuke until I read this, here), Two Truths and a Lie (Hux defects, here) for making me misty eyed. To Forge A Double-Edged Sword (Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, here) is what I read when I like, want to purposefully make myself sad.

These are all Star Wars because that's what I've been reading lately, but the Fic That Has Made Me Saddest, Ever is actually a Lord of the Rings fic that I read almost two decades ago about two Australian women who get zapped into Middle Earth by a lightning storm and make a pact to avoid becoming Mary Sues. I have never been able to find it again, but I do remember it ending SO sadly that it scarred me (in a good way) forever.

HOW COULD I FORGET what is potentially one of my all time favorites, The God Abandons Anthony (Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, here) which is so beautifully written that I weep whenever I read it.

[ladyrogue]

So much for free time!

You know, when I decided to play around with AI driven role play, I didn't think I was going to end up with a whole damn non-con/Stockholm saga idea starring one Mr. Jack Robinson. But here I am, and my head is screaming at me to write it. Thank God summer is almost here.

[itsjustdg]

So a (not on Tumblr) fandom friend and I may have written every single one of these for @vix-has-arrived's birthday at the end of August. 😎

Finally getting around to posting tonight, so I thought I'd leave the link here in case anyone is interested: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3711139

Lots of short, whumpy and angsty goodness (with some comfort thrown in but don't really count on much lol)

Here's the full linked list with fandoms included:

Leverage: "I know you're hurt."

Almost Paradise: "You're burning up."

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries: "Just breathe."

The Brave: "I don't feel good."

Almost Paradise: "Eyes on me! C'mon keep those eyes on me."

Leverage: Redemption: "That's a lot of blood."

Almost Paradise: "Come on, breathe, breathe, don't you dare–"

Timeless: "How long were you planning on hiding this?"

Leverage: "Easy, easy. You're okay, I've got you."

FUBAR: "I can't find a pulse!"

Almost Paradise: "Don't you dare die on me."

Hudson & Rex: "Everything's okay, go back to sleep."

Almost Paradise: "can't–breathe–"

Almost Paradise: "I won't hurt you."

Leverage: Redemption: "Talk to me."

Almost Paradise: "Stay still."

Private Eyes: "You don't look so good."

Magnum P.I.: "I think I'm gonna–"

Magnum P.I.: "Tell me where you are, I'll come get you."

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries: "Please stop."

Blood & Treasure: "How much sleep did you get last night?"

Almost Paradise: "It's over now."

Leverage: "I'm okay. You don't need to worry about me."

Timeless: "You're not supposed to be up and about."

Terra Nova: "Go to sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up."

Pick a number, get a drabble

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts

"I know you're hurt."

"You're burning up."

"Just breathe."

"I don't feel good."

"Eyes on me! C'mon keep those eyes on me."

"That's a lot of blood."

"Come on, breathe, breathe, don't you dare--"

"How long were you planning on hiding this?"

"Easy, easy. You're okay, I've got you."

"I can't find a pulse!"

"Don't you dare die on me."

"Everything's okay, go back to sleep."

"can't--breathe--"

"I won't hurt you."

"Talk to me."

"Stay still."

“You don’t look so good.”

“I think I’m gonna – ”

“Tell me where you are, I’ll come get you.”

“Please stop.”

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

“It’s over now.”

“I’m okay. You don't need to worry about me.”

"You're not supposed to be up and about."

“Go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”