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ornii · 1 year ago

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Hi love your works! Was wondering since it’s that time of year would you consider doing a Bitterly Beautiful Halloween Special or One Shot?

I already had something planned!

Bitterly Beautiful: Hallows Bearing

“Absolutely not..”

“Aww Cmon..”

The Spookiest Time has come to Nevermore and the the decrepit school has been given a thin white blanket of frost to freshen it up. (Y/n) sat on Wednesdays bed, tilting his head to her direction. It’s been a few months since the duo defeated Crackstone, Tyler and Thornhill. After his near death, well technically his death experience, (Y/n) and Wednesday have a newfound love for each other, even if Wednesday barely shows it.

“You seriously don’t want to go to the Hallows Eve celebration?” He said, Wednesday keeps her head forward into her novel, typing so calculating on the Typewriter.

“And bore myself to death outside? I’d rather watch the others freeze in the discomfort of my own room.” She said, (Y/n) chuckled and stood up to approach her, he gets behind her and peers over her shoulder. Wednesday doesn’t stop him, him being blind severely limits his ability to peer into her work.

“You really don’t want to spend time with me? Your favorite Blind helpless boyfriend? I know you have a hero complex.” He says smugly, Wedensday stops typing and tilts her head to him, “I couldn’t predict how annoying you’d be, if I knew I would have preferred you stay dead.” She say with her mundane flat tone, but he knows she didn’t mean it. He, with all the brazen pride, gives her the softest peck on the cheek. Wednesday, still not fully understanding of her emotions, slowly began to burn a shade of rose red. Wednesday scowled and he laughed.

“I can hear your brow furrowing. You’re not mad at me, are you?” He backs up and Wedensday approached, she doesn’t say a word, her death stare was more than enough to say that he’s made a crucial mistake. (Y/n), taking the biggest risk, gently pokes her cheekbones.

“Aww, don’t pout, you know I love you.”

“And you know I hate human contact.”

“Even If it’s my contact?~” (Y/n) utters with slower tone, letting his words dance in the ears of Wednesday. He felt the sudden force of being pushed down on her bed, before he can sit up, Wednesday gripped his wrists, and fully mounted him pinning his wrists to the bed, they were face to face. The sudden shift in the power dynamic was always something that occurred in their relationship, (Y/n) would tease and prod Wednesday, only in good loving spirit, and when she finally cracked and gave in, he got what he wanted.

“Even your contact… your Tried and tiresome acts of physical contact are overused and are fit to stay in the 30’s.” She said, she slowly leans into his ear and spoke sternly into it.

“Luckily for you, I consider myself.. Old Fashioned.” She replies, before their lips could get to know each other more intimately, they hear the doorknob shake, as if someone is trying to enter. Ajax opens the door to (Y/n) and Wednesday, who hurried got off of each other, Wednesday on her Typewriter while (Y/n) playing sorrowfully on the Violin.

“(Y/n).” He said, the inconspicuous boy stops his playing.

“Ajax, is there something you need? I was in the middle of something very important.” (Y/n) says, and Ajax nods and leans in the doorframe.

“Me and Enid are gonna go for the Permafrost Ball. You two wanna double date?”

“That sounds��“ (Y/n) began.

“Positively Suicidal.” Wedensday replies, cutting him off. Ajax shrugs and walks back. (Y/n) tilts his head to her direction.

“Is being liked that hard for you?” He asks, but he doesn’t wait for a response. “I’ll leave you to your book.” He said, and left the room, Wednesday sighed with relief, and felt the pain in her back swell. She could only come up with one solution, ask the one person who seemingly knew everything but absolutely nothing at the same time, Enid.

The two stood in their dorm as Wednesday reluctantly asks.

“Enid, I… require your assistance.”

“Of course! Anything for my best friend and roomie.”

“Riveting… anyway, it seems I have come down with.. something… and I cannot conclude what Illness befalls me, so I’m asking the girl who knows everything.. but absolutely nothing.”

“What was that last part?”

“nothing, can you help?” She asks and Enid casually flips out her phone.

“Obviously! Now what’s hurting you?”

Wednesday walks around, pacing as Enid types.

“I awoke feeling dreadful during the mornings, even nearly vomiting… I, frequent the woman’s restroom more often, my taste buds have soured… my, my breasts have been feeling, tender… I don’t understand what this is.”

“Okay all done!” Enid searches and gets the result, “Drum roll please!” She Said, Wedensday just stares at her.

“Fine, and the winner is.. Pregn—“ Enid stares at the message for what seems to be forever, until she slowly looks up at Wednesday.

(Y/n) wasn’t in his form, he was assisting Eugene with his Bees, as Winter was coming and the lack of pollen will severely affect them. He exits the Bee house, as he does he senses that something is terribly wrong, little does he know, Wednesday Is storming over to him with Enid trying to defuse the death bomb heading straight towards (Y/n). He heard the footsteps approach and could tell by the shoe size and pace it was his girlfriend, and a less than enthusiastic pair following. He smiles as he senses his girlfriend.

“Wednesday my Love, you reconsidered?” He asks, her silence was usual but something was very off.

“I am going to castrate you...” she said with the scariest huff. (Y/n) was backed into a wall of the bee hive, completely confused by what’s going on.

“What? Why? What did I do?” He asks.

“You, put This parasite in me!” She scowls, Enid finally catches up, tired.

“Wednesday… don’t be so angry I hear it’s bad for the baby.” She said, basically spilling the beans, Wedensday turns around to say something but (Y/n) already picked up on it. His hand softly gripped hers and she turned back to face him.

“Wednesday?…” he asks, tilting his head down to her abdomen and Wednesdays cold and callous anger slowly subsided. She kept her eyes locked on his face, scanning it for any mood. But he suddenly but lovingly hugged her, feeling her icy but still body suddenly pressed up against him.

“I, didn’t know you were—“

“I was, afraid to tell you.” She mutters in his ear. “Wednesday Addams, afraid? Color me surprised.” He says, and she squints, not finding his little jabs amusing.

“I’m still considering the castration.” She hisses. (Y/n) relents with an awkward laugh.

“Okay, sorry… uh, who else knows?” He said, “You and I and unfortunately, Enid.” Wednesday said, and Enid waves from the back.

“Isn’t it great? I’m gonna be an aunt!” She says with auch giddy joy, Wednesday didn’t want to show it, but the tiniest smile was on her face. (Y/n) and Wednesday decide it’s best to spend time together, for them to discuss the next steps. But it was mostly (Y/n) kneeling at Wednesday, rubbing her belly so lovingly.

“Hey there little one, I can’t wait to hold you one day.”

“Why are you talking to the parasite.”

“Wednesday, Baby, please don’t call them a parasite…” He says, and gently nuzzles her abdomen.

“Have you told your parents?” (Y/n) asks, and Wednesday was silent for a moment. “No, I had not informed them of my current situation, I suppose we must eventually and I will tell them… I suppose telling yours will bear no fruit.” She says.

“I could care less about what they think, my Uncle will be overjoyed. But now that I think about it..” he begins, “If Enid knows… and being the social butterfly she is… she’s most likely told everyone already.” He says, (Y/n) gently took her hands once more.

“I understand if things will be, different, people tend to talk a lot and, I hope you won’t let what they say waver you. It, scares me… what if our child opens their eyes for the first time and vaporizes everyone? They hurt you or me or… be drones on, afraid of what this means. He said, Wednesday looked at his face, she calmly removed his deep black glasses, seeing his closed eyes, tears slightly welling up, Wednesday’s palms gently gripped his face and spoke as lovingly as she could.

“You are not your father, you will be a loving and fantastic father, regardless of what transpires with our.. Child.” She spoke so, reassuringly, this wasn’t some facade she was putting up, it was honest, genuine and loving. His lip quivers, but he shook down his fear and smiles.

“Now.. open your eyes.” She says, (Y/n) took a few deep breaths and nodded. He slowly began to open them, worried about what will happen, but then he finally gets to look Wednesday in her perfect deep auburn brown eyes. It was all still somewhat of a Blur, but he could make out her face. Wednesday could finally see his, the magic in his eyes faded. And his eyes were tinge of yellow, deep rooted gold. His head leans in and embraced her with a kiss. Their lips depart and there was only one question he had left to ask.

“Wednesday Friday Addams… will you marry me?”

“Yes (Y/n)… a thousand times over… yes.”

#netflix #male reader #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #reader insert #wedensday x you #enid sinclair #pregnancy

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rindragon-from-twewy · 3 months ago

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Swap au character intros part 4!!!

Spoilers for specifically Raincode Chapter 0 ahead!

Let's start with Zilch! In this au his forte becomes Audial Aptitude - thanks in part to his animal ears. If you've seen my art of Zilch before, you'll probably have noticed I like drawing him with his animal ears as his actual ears and not on top of his hat. It's cuz I generally just hate the ambiguity of it. Are the animal ears real? Are they just on his hat? Why do they move? Why does he have 4 ears? So I just like making his animal ears his only set of ears. That being said, apparently they're fox ears??? I always assumed wolf??? But I digress- His uniform has been changed up to be reminiscent of an orchestra conductor cuz hahah audio. His face tattoos are meant to be those spotify code scanners - the right cheek leading to It's All So Incredibly Loud by Glass Animals and We Own The Night by Chandler Kinney on the left (cuz I think it's funny!) As for his last name change, "Allegro" in musical terms means "to be played very quickly" which I thought would suit him quite well as someone who can solve cases really fast. His personality is basically the same, the only alteration being that he carries around a notepad and pen in order to help keep track of all the hundreds of things he's constantly hearing all the time.

Next is Pucci. She's received Spectal Projection from Melami and if you thought being good at hearing made her existential then BOY HOWDY does being able to use her body as a vessel for spirits fuck her up even more! Originally I was going for a classic "fortune teller" look for her but I instead went with a cute seamstress-y sort of look instead cuz I couldn't really get what I had in mind initially to look good. She wears a tape measure like a scarf and a thimble as a necklace charm. Her eyes, while cute, have a sort of dead look in them that make others wonder if she's even alive at all. Her last name has been changed from Lavmin to Lavender because in flower language, they're representive of purity, serenity, grace and calmness - all traits she seems to exhibit until she actually starts talking and you realise she's just sort of awkward and shy. She finds it easier to talk to ghosts/spirits then living creatures and honestly probably gets along reeeaaally well with this AU's version of Vivia.

Now, you may be looking at Aphex and going "Rindude! You changed fuck all about him!" And yeah, you're right... The only major changes I made was switching out his coat, boots and like doubling his muscle mass. He's strong. He could beat you up, no questions asked and it definitely shows! His forte is now Thoughtography but he's just as angry as ever - originating from the "front lines" that canon Zange mentioned in his own backstory. For that reason, his coat is inspired by WW2 trenchcoats and while my art doesn't show it very well, everything he's wearing looks and smells like he's crawled straight out of a dumpster. Originally I was going to change his last name to Harkness as an homage to Captain Jack Harkness, a WW2 soldier inspired character from (surprise, surprise) Doctor Who but considering the fact I did that exact same thing with an oc of mine for my A levels earlier this year... I instead went with Tyler; an homage to another Doctor Who character called Rose Tyler who is also a badass blonde <3

And that's all the details I'm sharing for now! It's a little strange considering I've written the Storm Cypher fanfic about half way through its chapter 0 already so I have a lot more to say about the train gang then I did anyone else - since they've already had stuff actually written for them. Melami and Zange's swap au designs will drop like... as soon as I figure out how to draw elderly people. So soon, hopefully! But yeah, I'm cooking super good atm I just can't really share much due to the nature of writing lol. I've been loving getting asks about it though! Deadass, it makes me kick my legs and giggle to know people are crazy enough to care about this AU- >w<

#master detective archives: rain code #raincode #swap au #fanart #zilch alexander #pucci lavmin #aphex logan #master detective archives: storm cypher

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metacrisisdoctor · 1 year ago

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one of my favorite things about ten's so called vanity is how it's really born out of what he, as nine, percieved rose's dream man to be and how he subconsciously manifested that when he regenerated. i think a lot about him saying "can you imagine me with no head? and don't say that's improvement." when the process starts and then the first thing he does is ask rose what she thinks, multiple times- both in born again and again in the christmas invasion (i can think of three times off the top of my head) and then that coming sort of full circle when cassandra is like "you've been looking, you like it." that's why she doesn't want him to regenerate in the stolen earth, because ten is everything she could ever want in an s/o.

and it's obviously not that rose wasn't physically to attracted to him as nine because objectively she clearly was, it's that he didn't see it that way and probably because he felt undeserving of that attraction but he also saw her flirt with men like adam and jack, and you can see how he aborbed that and infused it into ten with the pinstripes (adam) and the flirtatious nature or as they call it "dancing" of jack.

you could say this is all shallow but not only is his vanity physical, it's mental as well. think of the last thing nine says being that he was fantastic with a huge smile on his face because of rose's impact on his life and how that carries onto ten's "i'm very clever/brilliant/etc" to the point of arrogance sometimes.

he saw all that she wanted and that she was made of and it became part of him so deeply that rose cannot be seperated from the tenth doctor. it's objectively canon that what the doctor is feeling during a regeneration affects the next incarnation and what nine was feeling was absolute love for rose tyler, he was feeling hope and healing. and he was feeling, still, a sense of being finished - remember: telling rose to let the tardis die.

so you take all of this and remember how it not only explains how tentoo works: because he was born out of love for her TWICE- (in the parting of ways and again, the last thing tentoo remembers is running toward her in that street- looking happy for the first and last time in two seasons) but also explains why ten doesn't want to regenerate and why he doesn't want to go, despite feeling obviously suicidal again in the next doctor which has multiple allusions to rose in it.

both ways it's rose because rose runs so deeply in that incarnation of him that either he has to get to grow old with her or he has to change, but he doesn't want to change because when he does the change will be so drastic that it'll be like he died because it's what he needs to think/feel to keep moving forward, and that means leaving what he wanted to be, and what in one world IS, the doctor's ending and since how regeneration feelings affect the next incarnation this is a self fulfilling prophecy to a degree and is why eleven is able to move on and not look back. because otherwise it would've killed him. he had to regenerate so powerfully that the tardis exploded and changed with him. he had to regenerate like that because he never wanted to regenerate again because he was reborn to be rose's.

that's what it means to say to understand ten's character you have to respect the depth of his feelings for rose. like it's literally not optional.

#rambles

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idea-less-author · 6 days ago

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I'm rewatching Doctor Who, and first of all, I forgot how much I not only loved this show but also Rose Tyler as a whole. Also nine needs more love. Anyway, I just finished episode 1×6 Dalek, and all I could think was how interesting it would have been if the Dalek survived and joined the time traveling duo. Walk with me a second.

We all known the Daleks, what they're like, what they are, what they've done, what they're capable of. But, this Dalek has spared 2 human lives. It's just kinda meandering with Rose questioning everything. It just wants freedom, but what does that mean really? The Doctor comes in and threatens it, sees that it's changed due to Rose's DNA, and is feeling something other than hate for the first time in it's existence. It's no longer a true Dalek, but it's still alone. It asks Rose for it's final orders. And, what if, she says no. And doesn't change her mind.

This is the first time the Dalek has ever felt the full spectrum of emotions. Of course it's over whelmed. It's neever felt anything more then maybe anger and hatred and now there are so many new things to feel.

Grief for what it once was and for all it once knew, fear of all of the unknown ahead, I'm sure some guilt for not only what it has done, but for even allowing itself to be changed in the first place. It gained human emotions for the very first time, moments after finding out that it was alone, and after being tortured for who knows how long. It's standing with the being that ended the time war by massacring both of their people, and the woman who' s DNA changed you so fundamentally that you know longer know what you even are. You're feeling sunlight for the very first time. That does not sound like a being that should be making life changing/ending decisions at that moment.

So, what if Rose refuses to give that final order. She recognizes all of the above. She's a lover, she's compassionate, she's emotionally intelegent. She doesn't like the suffering of anyone, including her enemies, but death would not be her first answer. It hasn't been before, it wasn't after, so why this time?

No, what if instead Rose chose to be kind to the Dalek by being a bit crule, and refusing it's request to die. Instead she convinces the Doctor to bring him aboard the ship. She picks the Dalek up, right out of the exoskelton, and not only gives the Dalek, it's first ever physical contact, but a new home. (I understand that the Dalek is squid-like and slimey but honestly I don't know how much Rose would care about that when trying to show compassion. Hell she tried to show compassion by carressing the Dalek earlier in this very episode.)

Nine would not be thrilled with these developments. You want to bring one of the creatures that helped end his people, terrorized the Universe, and is the reason that his alone, onto HIS Tardis? Are you mad? And they would bicker a bit. Shouting would happen, and the Dalek might even be on the Doctor's side. But I think in the end Rose would look at Nine with her big doe eyes, passionate about life in the way that she always is, and he would cave. He would be upset and cross (with himself mostly), but he would let Rose bring it onto his ship. I mean the Dalek has changed, and let's be real, he's the reason the Daleks alone, as well as himself. He had his reasons, but do they even matter at this moment? With this Dalek?

Now the next episode does take place near immediately after this one on station 5 and whatever, but even with the Dalek I think that the adventure with what's his name (I can't be bothered to look it up atm but you know the guy) can go much of the same as it did. The Dalek get's let on the Tardis recovering from it's ordeal, rethinking everything, and what the implications for it are now that everything is different. I think all of the Canon episodes for this season are much of the same too, just add a couple of new adventures showing the Dalek what life can be now with a full sectrum of emtions. And because it got these emotions from Rose, probably a shit-ton of compassion. I also think that it would start to build itself a new mechsuit, or whatever you want to call it. But this time, it has more uses then just death, destruction, and conquering.

The Dalek and the Doctor would have a whole frenemies thing. The Doctor doesn't trust the Dalek because it's a Dalek, and the Dalek knows that the Doctor should be it's number one enemy. But, they are cohabitating. And Rose wants things to work out, so they try to not be hostile. But every now and again, they find themselves... talking. Specfically when the Dalek is working on it's new suit, the Doctor will, help? Tbh it starts out with him being extreamly suspicious of the Dalek and wanting to keep an eye on it. Which leads to helping, segestions, being a sound board. And if I'm being honest, if it were a someone other than Nine I would say that this would be the time he notices what's happening and go and skulk around for a it before the cycle happens again, but I honestly think Nine would notice, and just continue on. Get to know the Dalek. Trust in Rose. At some point I do think that the Dalek chooses a name for itself, at Roses prompting. No idea what, but just another way that the Dalek changes and differenciates itself from the rest.

Now while this is all happening, they are still going on the rest of the adventures in the season. Jack joins the T.A.R.D.I.S. team. I think he'd kinda love a Dalek that's no longer a Dalek, who wants to live life, and maybe do some good for once. He joins the building sesions. Rose is there, it started off as her chaperoning The Doctor and The Dalek, but it just became hanging out and providing commentary fairly quickly. They're all having a grand time. It's strange, but it's theirs. Then Station 5 part 2 happens. The Doctor, Jack, and Rose get yoinked into their respective game shows. Rose gets disitegrated. Their Dalek and the T.A.R.D.I.S. are found and The Doctor and Jack are mourning. Their Dalek knows something is off. They figure out that the Daleks are back. They go to the Emperor.

Now I can't quite decide if Our Dalek would even be tempted by the emperor or not. Maybe at first? but It's changed so much. The Emperor likely wants nothing to do with It anyway because It's no longer a True DalekTM. And Our Dalek has changed so much. SEEN so much. Has been cared for by Rose Tyler, which we all know is a life chaging experience.

Once again I'm not entirely sure how the fight against the Daleks end for Their Dalek. It gets sent with Rose to protect her while everyone else fights and dies against the Daleks. It help Rose get back. Or It stays behind with Jack and The Doctor, completly fine with sacrificing it's life to save humanity as long as Rose is safe. If we go that route there are several ways you can go from there. It dies fighting what it once had been a hero. It dies, and comes back like Jack. In that case I think that It would continue on with Jack as a companion. Or maybe It goes It's own seperate way from Jack after resuraction. It lives, no need to be resurected. It could continue on with The Doctor and Rose. It could be left behind with Jack. It could stay behind with Jack. It could decide to go separate ways from the Doctor and Rose (I don't think Ten would be as tolerant of Our Dalek and It would sense that, so It goes on it's own adventures. Or maybe it goes and finds Jack after The Doctor becomes Ten.) Idk So many ways that it could go and I like a lot of them. I think bringing It back like Jack and letting them Travel together is my favorite.

I was just overtaken with this idea and had to share. I have no idea if this had been done broe, I'm sure it has, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. I just started rewatching and it's over taken me. I'd love to hear other people's thoughts.

#doctor who #ninth doctor #doctor who dalek #rose tyler #re watch #jack harkness #bbc doctor who #Also the Daleks pronouns are It/Its because I said so #Please someone talk about this with me #no one IRL would get my vision like you people on my phone

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braveclementine · 6 months ago

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Gonna Give All My Secrets Aw-a-ay

Warnings: 18+readersonly, smut, fingering, breast worship, pet names

Copyright: I do not own any Twilight characters or locations. I do own Davina Mikelson and Marcel. I also own the backstory for my OC. I do not condone any copying of this.

Davina P.O.V.

Birds are annoying. I mean, seriously. When you're trying to sleep and they're just going "Cheerp cheerp! CHEERP CHEERP!" Honestly, it sounds like they're screaming.

The pain had been immense, the way I imagined being a vampire and being set on fire must feel. You know, if you're set on fire alive. They weren't kidding when they said becoming a vampire was painful.

I much preferred the vampire diary way. Drink some vampire blood. Snap your neck. Ba bam- you're a vampire.

I wondered how long it was exactly that I was out. I knew it ranged anywhere between two to five days, depending on where the venom was injected and lots of other lovely factors. The stronger the heart, the shorter the time. And if the venom was injected into the heart or near it, then it was more on the two to three day side.

Of course, the ending brought tears that couldn't spill to my eyes. Watching memories. I could see everything that had ever happened in my life play backwards. From the pain, to the wedding, the Marcel's changing, to the newborn fight, to spying on Seattle, to being in Kentucky with some of my family, finding out I was a werewolf, Sam's sister, and then there was Laurent trying to kill me, Edward telling me about them leaving, being in the hospital because of James, coming to Forks, the last few years of working to get a plane ticket, the bombs going off, Azim and I kissing, Azim and I laughing, meeting Azim's parents, going to gymnastics meets and Tae Kwon Do competitions, learning military strategy, moving to the base, being back in Forks, running around with Paul and Sam, swimming in the ocean, Kol's birth, Josh arguing with Sam's mother, a four year old playdate with Tyler Crawley, and then being born in a hospital.

My eyes snapped open. The pain was gone. Good. It felt like I had been burning for years.

The first thing I heard were birds and I almost groaned in annoyance. But I could also hear squirrels crunching on nuts, rabbits sprinting through the forest, a mountain lion- or maybe a bear but it definitely had hunting feet- walking over stone and rock, the violent flapping of hummingbird wings.

Feeling wise, I could feel the soft fabric of the sheets beneath me. Soft, fluffy, and warm. I could also feel that I was wearing something made of silk, but I didn't move my head to look down quite yet.

As for the smells. . . I could smell so many different smells. There was cinnamon, hyacinth, pear, sourdough bread, pine, vanilla, leather, apple, moss, lavender, chocolate, lemon and lime, tomato sauce, almonds-ew-, roses, jasmine, lilies, plastic, and so many other different smells. The strongest smell was seawater.

I took in a shuddering breath, feeling the air move through my lungs, but not really. I looked around the room. The ceiling was white, dust motes flying in the air. I could read the titles of all the books on the shelf across the room.

I sat up slowly, moving my legs over to the side of the bed, getting to my feet. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and stared in horror at the red eyes. My dark hair and pale complexion gave me a Snow White complexion. I was just missing the blue eyes.

I had been lucky with my complexion though. I had been captured in a mid-tan state, my dark skin coming out only after being in the sun for long periods of hours. I now looked Half-Cullen like, Half- Quileute like and I loved it.

I pursed my lips at the choice of dress Alice had clearly dressed me in. It was a green colour that balanced out the skin and eyes nicely. Except for the fact that I was not wanting to be in it. I much rather wanted to wake up in jeans and a T-shirt.

I could hear voice downstairs and I could distinguish Emmett, Jasper, Carlisle, Alice, and Bree's voices.

I darted down the stairs, stopping in front of Alice, my arms crossed angrily.

"Davina!" Carlisle said in surprise, "You're up early."

"Early?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"It's only been two days." Emmett said, looking me over, "Looking good Mama bear."

"Really Alice?" I questioned, gesturing to the dress. "Really?"

"What? It's a wonderful dress to go on your first hunting trip in." Alice said, putting an elbow on Jasper's arm.

I looked at her incredulously, "You want me to go hunting in. . . this?"

Jasper shifted uncomfortably, "That's what you care about?"

I looked up at my favorite son, "What do you mean?"

Jasper looked confused, "I don't understand this."

I stared at him blankly and then looked around for an explanation. Bree was the one who answered, "He means. . . you care more about the idea of your hunting attire than thirst."

"Oh." I said, thinking. I concentrated on my throat but I didn't feel anything. "Where should I feel. . . hungry?"

They all stared at me in surprise, "In your throat." Emmett explained.

I concentrated and then shook my head, "Maybe I'm just not thirsty yet."

"Maybe we should go hunting anyways." Carlisle suggested, reaching out to take my hand. I slid my hand into his, feeling the smoothness of his palm, the creases where the lines were, and finding that he was no longer cold nor hot, but that we were the same temperature now.

I looked up at him, staring into his honey coloured eyes and then reached up to kiss him on his lips. He tased wonderful, like things I couldn't even put into words. His lips were hesitant against mine and full. I pulled away, smiling, "Let me go change."

"No." Alice pretty much growled at me.

I sighed, "Yes, let me try tackling a grizzly bear in this dress. It'll get ripped and I actually kind've like it."

"You could go nude." Emmett said, grinning and winking at Carlisle who rolled his eyes.

I actually kind've liked the idea.

Jasper shook his head, drifting away from the room. I looked after him, my smile fading, "What's wrong?"

"He has never seen a newborn with this kind of self control." Alice said and then drifted after him.

"Oh. Great. I'm still weird even after my death." I muttered.

"I don't know." Emmett said in a serious voice, smirking. "You haven't quoted Harry Potter once since you've awoken. You might be going sane."

I stuck my tongue out at him and then tugged on Carlisle's hands. "Come on then."

Carlisle and I exited the house. It was a sunny day and I stared, my hand outstretched as the sun bounced off my skin, sending sparkles out, glittering across the pavement. I stared at Carlisle whose face was glittering.

"You look so handsome." I murmured, wanting to take him to bed at that moment.

Carlisle smiled and I felt my heart do flips. Well. . . not my heart, but ya know.

"And you look absolutely breathtaking." He breathed.

"Except the eyes." I said with a sigh, preening as he swept a strand of my long black hair back from my face.

He gazed at me, sliding his thumb across my cheek and I relished the feeling of his hand. "Even with the eyes you are stunning."

"Well," I said, taking his hand, squeezing it lightly. "Let's go hunt some animals and make them gold."

Carlisle nodded, "Ready?"

I nodded, preparing myself, and then started to run.

It was amazing. It was better than my motorcycle. I flew across the forest, laughing a little, and when we reached the creek, I leaped without thinking, feeling myself almost fly as I crossed the water.

I landed lightly on the balls of my feet, continuing to run, thinking of nothing but the wind caressing my skin and then- Carlisle stopped me.

"We don't want to go to far." He purred. His eyes were raging between black and yellow and I smirked.

"Well hello, Lord. I see you're trying to make an appearance."

"Well," the eyes became completely black, "You look completely ravishing like this."

"You've completely taken over Carlisle." I complained lightly, walking my finger sup his tight sweater.

"He's trying to figure out your self control so he's to distracted to try and take over." Lord smirked before smashing his lips to mine.

Oh yes. I liked where this was going.

My back hit a tree, making the plant shake underneath my body. I barely felt the bark scraping against my impenetrable skin, pushing back fiercely against Lord's lips. So rough and smooth and delicious.

His hands ripped the dress from behind and I tore his sweater off of him. I growled, seeing the light blue buttoned up shirt underneath. "You wear to many clothes Lord."

"Blame Carlisle." Lord growled, biting at the skin on my neck. He pulled back and murmured, "I can leave a bruise. Good."

I chuckled before using strength and speed, sending the both of us crashing into an opposite tree as I pressed against him tightly.

And then I paused, lips hovering above his, "The kids?"

Lord's black eyes melted, becoming tawny again and Carlisle actually shook his head like he was trying to clear his mind. HIs eyes lingered over where he'd ripped part of my dress, revealing the top of my cleavage. He cleared his throat and said, "I do apologize for that. And they're at our house. We can go see them after we hunt."

I nodded, my mind focused solely on the hunt. "Let's find a few rabbits then."

He raised an eyebrow, "Rabbits?"

"Or squirrels." I muttered, thinking back to Vampire Diaries. "That's what they eat in Vampire Diaries."

Carlisle chuckled, reaching out his hand. I took it without hesitation. "Let's find you a mountain lion, shall we?"

I laughed lightly, running again. This time, I led, following my heightened senses to a cave.

"Can I just walk in there and eat it?" I questioned.

Carlisle seemed a little anxious and muttered, "Maybe we should find deer instead."

I raised an eyebrow. "It's not like the mountain lion is going to hurt me."

The mountain lion suddenly paced out of the cave, growling at me.

I could smell it, and while it was appealing, it didn't send me wild like I thought it might've. I stalked forward, avoiding its claws, and bit down into the neck.

I tasted the blood, gushing into my mouth. It was. . . sweet? I don't know how else to describe it. It was satisfying, but it tasted different and I realized that was because I was dissecting the different tastes of the blood. I could taste the water, the salt, and even the plasma. I wrinkled my nose a little bit, trying to ignore the taste that way.

I pulled back once I was done. I had done pretty well, I thought. I'd barely spilled any blood on my dress. I turned to look at Carlisle who had a strange expression on his face.

"What?" I asked, racking my brain. "Did you want some?"

"It's not that." He said softly, coming over and pulling me into his arms. "It's just. . . well first it's very hard watching you drain something that would normally kill you. And for another, you're thirst didn't take you over. You were very calm in your feeding. And. . . you also didn't seem to enjoy it."

"Well." I said, frowning slightly. "I've always liked big cats. Maybe I should go after a bear instead. Those scare me. I might not feel as bad about killing a bear than a cat. And well, for another, it was the taste."

"What do you mean?"

"I could taste the individual components of the blood." I explained, wiping my bottom lip. "The water, the salt, the plasma, it wasn't the best taste in the world."

"Oh." Carlisle whispered, frowning deeper.

"Now can we go see our kids?" I asked.

Carlisle was still staring at me and I recognized this face from my months of interning under him. He was analyzing me like a data project. "Carlisle?"

He snapped out of it. "Our kids? Yes, we can go see them now."

"It's only been two days. . ." I murmured, "What are they like?"

"They're wonderful." Carlisle said with a small smile, "Come on, I want you to meet them."

"Are they. . . have you noticed any signs of danger from them at all?" I asked in worry as we ran back, not to the main Cullen house, but our small cottage.

"Nothing." Carlisle said and then frowned slightly. "They bite a lot. Esme- she's the one whose been helping me take care of them but she hasn't told anyone else about them- she said that when our little girl bites, she doesn't feel anything. But the boys are venomous."

"Two boys and a girl?" I breathed out.

Carlisle nodded, "The boys are identical. The girl looks more like me."

I smiled. "What did you name them?"

We stopped running once were in front of the front door to the house. Carlisle stopped me, picking me up into his arms, carrying me across the threshold before kissing me on the lips.

I giggled as he set me back down on my feet.

"I'm letting you name them." Carlisle murmured.

I shivered, nervous. I already had boy names in my head, but nothing for the little girl.

"Carlisle?" Esme's voice floated out the door. She appeared, holding a very small baby with long golden locks in her arms. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of my daughter.

"Oh." I gasped.

Esme's hold tightened around the baby. "They're still part human Davina."

Carlisle wrapped his arms around me tightly. "Breathe deeply."

I was nervous, not wanting the scent of my daughter to attract me. I let out a stuttering breath and then breathed in.

I could smell honey, cinnamon, and parchment, like the way Carlisle smelled. And I could smell her blood which smelled sweeter than the mountain lion, but it was nothing. I felt nothing. I was still relaxed in Carlisle's arms and then asked, "Can I hold her now?"

Esme was shocked, looking from me to Carlisle.

"Maybe you have a self control gift." Carlisle said, but he didn't relax his arms. I sighed, staring a the blond girl.

"She doesn't look like she's two days old. . ." I whispered.

"She's around three and a half months." Carlisle whispered behind me.

Fear spiked through me, "So. . . she's aging much faster than normal?"

"Yes." Esme said. "All three of them are."

"But- but then- then they might not live very long." I panicked. Venom stung at my eyes and I quickly blinked.

"No, they might not." Carlisle said, kissing my cheek.

"Oh." I whimpered.

"Esme, I think she's alright." Carlisle said, letting go of me.

I stepped forward cautiously, extending my arms for the little girl. Esme handed her over and I shivered. Her skin was warm, her heartbeat faster than I thought it should be. Her eyes were ice blue and I looked at Carlisle, trying to imagine him with blue eyes.

He smiled a little, "I could put contacts in if that helps your imagination."

I giggled a little, the sound lighter and less horse-goat-sheep sounding than it used to be. More like an angel now I guess. "Sorry. Personally, I was thinking your eyes might've been green."

"Sorry to disappoint."

I was suddenly by his side, pressing my lips to his, our daughter between us, "You don't disappoint me. Ever."

Then I pulled away and was in the babies room in a heartbeat. The two boys truly were identical, around the same size as their sister.

"Do you have names?" Esme asked me quietly.

I nodded, "For the boys anyways."

The only difference between the boys was that one of them had short black hair while the other one had curls and they were a tad degree lighter.

I handed the baby girl back to Esme with reluctance, picking up the one with straight black hair. I held him out to Carlisle and said, "This is Samuel Carlisle Cullen."

Carlisle smiled, kissing the top of my head, before taking his son into his arms. I turned back, picking up the last baby, looking into his eyes and said softly. "This is Niklaus Kol Cullen."

Niklaus after the hybrid. Kol was after my brother.

I turned to the girl, having no idea what to name her. Nothing seemed to fit her right. Kijana? Jasiri? Temperance? Kisa? Naomi? Camille? Luna? Kiara?

"Caroline. . . Elizabeth Cullen." I finally decided.

"Those are all wonderful names." Esme decided.

I hesitated and then asked, "I feel so normal. Why?"

Carlisle shook his head, "This could be your gift. Self-control."

"Do the children show any signs of gifts?" I asked.

"Not yet." Esme said. "But of course, they might not be able to have gifts. Or maybe they'll develop later."

I nodded and then looked at Carlisle, "I need to make a call."

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

I paced by the treaty line. I was terrified, unsure. Carlisle stood nearby. He had promised to be there so that I wouldn't hurt them.

"They're coming." Carlisle said and then laughed quietly. "I didn't have to tell you that."

I smiled a little. "It'll take some getting used to, I'm sure."

Sam appeared first and I was surprised he wasn't in wolf form.

I felt a smile break out over my face at the sight of him. "Hey Sammy."

"Hey shorty." He said, grinning. "You look. . . yourself. 'Cept the eyes."

I shuddered, "I hate the eyes. But. . . Carlisle thinks I have the gift of self-control. Yay I guess. I was kind've hoping to be able to shoot lightning from the sky but I'll take what I can get."

Sam raised an eyebrow, looking between Carlisle and I. "She really hasn't changed at all."

Carlisle chuckled, "No. No she hasn't."

"How is everyone?" I asked. "Have you heard from Jacob at all?"

Sam paused and then said, "How about you come down on the Rez."

I blinked. "What?"

Sam sighed, "Billy, Sue, Old Quil, and I. . . well we might've come up with a late wedding gift for you. We decided, as you're basically the wolves mother, you could come down on the Rez. You're the only one, mind you, although Carlisle, you're not that bad."

"Thanks." Carlisle muttered, but he looked worried, "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

I paused, glancing over at Sam and then sniffed tentatively. I cocked my head to the side, "You don't smell."

Sam looked surprised and then said, "You don't smell either. Well, not bad anyways."

Carlisle looked stunned. "I don't understand this at all."

I tilted my head, "Could it be because I'm- or was- half werewolf? So maybe I don't have an aversion to them?"

Carlisle hesitated, "I need to research this."

He was in front of me in a flash, taking my face in his hands, kissing me hard. I kissed back fiercely, wrapping my fingers into his hair. We kissed until Sam cleared his throat. "I'm as romantic as either of you, but I don't like watching my little sister kiss anyone."

I giggled, pulling back from Carlisle. "I'll see you back at our house, okay?"

Carlisle kissed the side of my head, pulling away slowly, and then he was gone.

I hesitated on the brink of the treaty line before carefully stepping over it. I looked around nervously and then said, "No booby traps?"

He chuckled. "None."

I reached my arms out hesitantly and then he pulled me into a hug. I inhaled his warm, comforting smell. Like jasmine and spices, sweat and leather rolled into one. I sighed. "I'm glad you smell the same."

"What do I smell like?" Sam questioned.

"Jasmine, spices, sweat, and leather." I mumbled, feeling embarrassed. "It's a good combination."

"Hmm." Sam said, pulling away, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, pulling me through the forest. "And you smell like honey, almonds, peaches, and lime."

I growled. "I know I smell like fruit. I've been told several times."

Sam chuckled.

Very soon, we were at Emily's house.

"Umm, Sam." I said in a small voice as Emily came out to greet us. I grabbed his shirt, hiding halfway behind him.

"Davina!" Emily cried happily, stopping short of me. I hesitated, almost trembling behind Sam. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Emily. I noticed Jared and Paul emerge, looks of excitement on their faces too.

"Hey Vampire mom!" Jared called, jogging over.

I shivered.

"It's alright Davina." Sam said. "You're not going to hurt them."

I inhaled deeply, smelling for Emily's scent directly. And though I smelled her, though her blood smelled divine, there was no unnecessary craving for it.

I let go of Sam's shirt a little, taking a few steps till I was closer to Emily, but still hesitating. "Hi." I said softly.

Emily threw her arms around me, taking me by shock, making me freeze. Sam was there in a second, worry in his eyes until I very slowly put my arms around her.

"That wasn't so bad." I mumbled as she pulled away.

Sam seemed rather relieved. "So. . ."

"I mean. . .you smell good." I said half-heartedly, still really nervous. Though I couldn't smell the werewolves as awful, my nerves were tingling like I knew I was being surrounded by enemies, "But I'm not craving after your blood. Or any blood for that matter." I frowned a little. "I hunted a mountain lion today. It didn't taste as good as I thought it might."

"You hunted a mountain lion?" Jared asked with a grin. "What was it like?"

"Boring." I said slowly. "It kind've just stood there while I killed it. Maybe it was in shock?"

"But you said it didn't taste good?" Sam asked, frowning slightly.

I shifted uncomfortably. They were okay with this conversation? "Well. . . I could taste everything individually. The water, the salt, the plasma. It wasn't very good. The water was most potent in taste, but it didn't taste. . . it didn't taste like blood really."

"Interesting." Jared said.

"Mom!" Seth's voice called from behind me and a brilliant smile lit up my face. I turned, dashing towards him and wrapping my arms around him. I was very careful not to squeeze him to tightly though.

"Hi Seth." I said with a grin.

I could hear Jared and Paul complaining behind me about how I hadn't hugged them.

I darted till I was in front of Jared and Paul and hugged both of them too.

"Paul imprinted." Seth offered.

My eyes lit up, "Really!"

Paul rolled his eyes but he was trying not to smile either. "Yeah. Jacob's sister. Rachel."

"Quil imprinted too." Jared said.

"Really?" I asked, astonished. "Did everyone imprint while I was dead?"

"No." Seth said glumly. "I haven't. Neither has Leah or Embry or Jacob or Collin or Brady."

I ruffled Seth's hair. "Well good. You're to young for love."

Embry and Quil showed up sometime later. I found out that Quil had imprinted on a two year old named Claire, who happened to be related to Leah and Emily.

Privately, I was thinking that it made sense they were imprinting on each other's family members. Jacob was a powerful member of the wolf family. Which meant his sisters' technically had the gene too. So it made sense for Paul to imprint on one of the sisters. And anyone related to Leah, Seth, and Emily would have strong genes too from Harry's side of things. Same with Quil's blood line.

I didn't stay long, not wanting to overstay my welcome for one thing, but also wanting to get back home to Carlisle.

Unfortunately, Paul still wasn't good at keeping his nose out of other people's business. "So what are you going to do tonight?"

I raised an eyebrow. "I have no idea."

"So you and doctor aren't going to. . . get it on?" Paul smirked.

I wish I could've blushed. I scowled at him instead, putting my hands over Seth's ears. "Not in front of the kids dumbass."

Paul snickered.

I got to my feet, swooping down and kissing Sam on the cheek. "I'll come back soon, I promise."

"Stay safe." Sam said and I smirked, rolling my eyes.

And then I was gone, running back for the treaty line, back into the forest, and back to my house.

Our house.

Carlisle and mine house.

I stepped inside.

"Carlisle?"

Carlisle was in front of me in an instant. "Shh, they're asleep."

"They sleep!" I said, delighted.

He nodded, smiling slightly. "Did you have a good time at the reservation?"

I nodded, "I was very happy."

"Good." Carlisle whispered, moving his lips to the skin underneath my ear. "Mm, do I get you all to myself tonight?"

I giggled, "Yes you do."

"Good." Carlisle growled.

Before I knew it, we were in our bedroom, on the bed. I was under him, his dark gold eyes practically glowing.

I yanked him down to me, my hands wrapped in his reddish-yellow locks, pulling his lips to crash down on mine. He growled against my lips, his tongue fighting for dominance against my open lips. Except this time, I could hold my own fight.

Our tongues mixed together, creating new sensations while his hands traveled down to my shirt. He didn't even bother unbuttoning it, ripping it in half instead and I was grateful that it was a new top I hadn't gotten attached to yet.

I rolled over, pressing him down to the bed, gripping his hips with my legs, squeezing tightly as I tore his shirt apart, blue buttons flying and scattering across the floor.

I pressed my lips right above his pants line, licking a stripe all the way up his chest, his neck, all the way to his earlobe before nipping at it. He growled again, his fingers pulling at the stretchy leggings I was wearing, pulling them downwards and they were discarded as well.

My fingers worked fast, undoing his belt, yanking it out of the belt loops, tossing it away. It fell to the ground with a dull clink. I unzipped the black dress pants, pulling them down quickly. His arms were behind my head in an instant, his body pressed against mine and I could feel his member pressing against my mound.

Our mouths moved furiously in sync with each other, our hands tangled in each others' hair. I moaned against his lips as one of his hands traveled down to my heat, rubbing my clit with lightning fast speed between his fingers.

The sensations were even more erotic as a vampire. They hadn't been lying when they said your emotions were heightened. This was at least ten times better than when I had been human.

"C-C-Carlisle." I moaned out. "Please."

He plunged three fingers into me, thrusting them in and out at a furious pace, rubbing my clit even faster.

My eyes rolled back in my head as I clutched his shoulders before I bit down on his bottom lip, his fingers bringing me over the edge, and I released all over them.

I could smell the arousal now, bitter and exotic and sharp. Carlisle slowly pulled his fingers from my warmth, sticking them in his mouth, licking them clean.

I wanted to ask if that actually tasted good, but didn't want to ruin the moment either.

Carlisle smashed his lips to mine again, flipping me back over on my back into the pillows. I could taste myself on him, something that seemed highly erotic and actually somewhat pleasant. My tastes and his tastes all mixed together.

"Carlisle." I growled, missing the fullness between my legs. I rolled over so that he was pressed into the sheets, angling myself to go down on him.

His hands shot to my hips, thrusting me back into the pillows, before pounding into me. He bottomed out and I gasped in pleasure, eyes rolling backwards before I recovered, bucking my hips to get him to move.

He moved in and our, faster than I thought possible, even with the speeds we could run.

I was a whimpering mess under him, surrendering to him completely. "Carlisle , please!"

"What baby? What do you need?" Carlisle purred lowly in my ear, his dick a blur as he thrusted in and out of me.

I whimpered, wanting more, "More, Carlisle, more."

"More what baby?"

My eyes rolled back into my head, my hands gripping his shoulders.

I had no idea what I wanted more of, I just knew I wanted more. "Faster."

The fuck? Could he go faster? Something was wrong with my br-

He thrusted even faster and I was practically screaming underneath him. His mouth, lowered to my breasts, flicking out at my nipple. The overstimulation was overwhelming. I barely got his name out as I clenched around his cock and milked it for all it was worth. He didn't stop, pounding me through my orgasm, drawing it out, chasing his own release.

The sensation was more than white static. It was a burning white fire that made my toes curl and now I saw how it had taken Emmett and Rose weeks to leave their house. I never wanted to leave this. I wanted Carlisle and I to continue going forever.

We were blessed with such short refractory periods it wasn't even funny.

This was probably going to be my favorite extra curricular activity outside everything else.

"CARLISLE!" I screamed as he twisted my nipple tightly between his smooth dexterous fingers, pulling it, sending the jolt straight to my clit at the same time I came.

My entire body was shaking and her wrapped one arm around me. My legs, wobbly, I jerked forward, the both of us landing off the bed and onto the floor. We didn't even break rhythm, barely noticing the stone floor beneath the both of us. Carlisle simply rolled over onto the carpet, pulling me on top of him, thrusting upwards into me.

We couldn't even get sore.

Carlisle moved his lips to my throat, biting, licking, sucking at my skin, purring with delight as large purple bruises popped up on my skin.

I growled, trying to mark him the same way, and failing. That caused enough confused for the both of us to slow down and observe things.

When we finally came to a complete stop, I was breathing shallowly and so was he. Carlisle ran his hand over my neck, observing the bruises.

He pulled out slowly, causing our combined juices to pool out onto his stomach and he chuckled lightly, kissing me.

"Let's take this to the bathroom, shall we?"

I wasn't as ecstatic, touching the bruises.

"Carlisle, what's wrong with me?" I asked in a whisper. "My skin marks, I don't thirst after blood, blood doesn't even taste that good to me, and I feel completely normal!"

Carlisle pulled me into his arms, carrying me to the bathroom, "There's nothing wrong with you darling. Maybe. . . maybe your gift delves farther than self control."

"So what is it?" I asked.

"Maybe it's more of a. . . normality gift. A gift that keeps you human in a vampire body. I wonder. . . " he drifted off, thinking deeply.

"What?" I questioned.

He looked at me, pulling out the handle on the bathtub- which by the way was huge- and let it fill with warm water. "I was wondering if you could eat human food was all."

I frowned slightly. "But vampires-"

"Vampires also can't bruise." Carlisle said, smiling almost sadly, running his fingers over my hickeys.

"Am I not a vampire?" I questioned. It was overwhelming and venom welled up in my eyes. "Did something go wrong during the transformation?"

"No." Carlisle said. "The only thing that could go wrong is you died. But you didn't. You are a vampire Davina. That much is obvious by the eye colour, the speed, the strength. You have all the physical attributes of a vampire. But when it comes to feeding, that's where you're different. I think it must relate to some sort of gift."

"Carlisle, if my skin can bruise, doesn't that mean I could be killed easier than a normal vampire?" I whispered quietly.

Fear flashed through his eyes for the briefest second. I knew he was thinking about the Volturi and the enemy I had made myself out of Jane.

"I. . . I don't know. There's no way to test it without hurting you either." Carlisle whispered. "I can't test it on you. I can't let anyone else test that on you."

"But evidence suggests it, right?" I questioned softly, throwing my arms around his neck, holding him to me.

"Yes." He said quietly.

I sat there for a long time before he slipped both of us into the bathtub. "It's okay." Carlisle whispered, "We'll figure it out. Everything will be okay."

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insomniacwithoutpurpose · 1 month ago

Text

Talk to Me

NineRose Day 3: "We need to talk about this"

(I finally finished it!!! It's also on AO3 under SeraphinaVerena, if you want to check it out)

Rose was hiding deep inside the TARDIS, avoiding the Doctor. Despite the futility of it, Rose hoped that the TARDIS would keep her hidden. She knew that the ship, while sentient in some form, however, would always favor the Doctor even if she sometimes left little presents on her nightstand in the morning. Still, she hoped.

They had been in London that day, Rose dropped by Jackie’s to get her clothes washed—no matter that the TARDIS could do that herself, too. But Rose enjoyed being able to come home, giving her something that grounded her to Earth, because all that she’d seen with the Dcotor, Rose was sure that she could get lost if it weren’t for Jackie. But today had been different.

Rose, saddled with her clean laundry after saying goodbye to her mom, was walking across the Powell Estate courtyard back to the TARDIS. The Doctor had refused to come up with her, not after the last time when Jackie had slapped him, claiming to have to do “important repairs, Rose. The TARDIS can’t fly without ‘em.” She’d smiled and let him get away with the lie, not really in the mood to break up their bickering anyway. However, when a horrifyingly familiar voice called her name, Rose wished like hell the Doctor had come with her.

At first, Rose froze, unsure if she was hearing things, but when she heard the voice call for her again, Rose continued to the TARDIS, walking faster than before. She was nearly to the TARDIS when someone grabbed her arm.

“Thought that was you, Rose,” he said, causing a shiver to run down Rose’s spine. “Ignorin’ me now, are we?” Every muscle in her body tensed, but she forced herself to face him.

“Hi, Jimmy,” Rose said tightly, grimacing slightly. His grip on her arm wasn’t painful, but she didn’t any part of him touching her. Carefully, she turned her body so Jimmy would have to let go to remain civil or risk being too aggressive--a line he knew how to dance on well.

“Haven’t seen you around for a while, Rose. Heard you were ‘traveling.’” The smirk on Jimmy’s face told her how likely he thought that was. “I just figured you’d found some bloke to shack up with and didn’t want to fess up to your mum.”

Rose narrowed her eyes, edging further away from him. Once, she had found his bleach blond hair and dark eyes alluring—everything her mum would’ve hated, but now every part of her skin itched just to be around him. She knew better; she was better.

“What do you want, Jimmy?” Rose asked through gritted teeth, trying desperately to not let her nerves show. Jimmy got off on that--on her fear and, from that, her compliance. Logically, Rose knew she shouldn’t be afraid of Jimmy. Of all the things she’d seen in the last few months, Jimmy was nothing. He was a spider on the wall or a weird shadow in the corner of her room. He was the past, and Rose Tyler had seen the end of the world and Jimmy Stone was just a bad memory.

Unfortunately, it seemed Rose’s body wasn’t agreeing with the logic. Her hands were shaking and her grip tightened around her laundry bag. Her gaze kept skirting along the edges of the courtyard, looking for an escape, and her feet itched to run back to the TARDIS, slamming the door behind her.

Instead, she was frozen to the spot, Jimmy’s dark eyes and cruel sneer trapping her in broad daylight when she should be better than this.

Jimmy quirked an eyebrow—a dangerous sign that Rose still knew the meaning of even after all this time—at her tone, and took a step closer to her. She backed up another foot, but he just followed her. “Wow, he must be some guy, yeah? You coming back here and acting like you’re better than me just cuz some well-doing bloke thinks you’re a decent shag.” Rose’s face flushed red and her hand balled into a fist.

“Shove off, Jimmy,” Rose hissed, turning on her heel and stomping to the TARDIS.

“Oh, c’mon, Rose!” Jimmy hassled, following right behind her. She could feel his presence crawling up her back like a swarm of ants. “I just wanna catch up. Maybe we could go down to the pub and get a drink together. Remember how good we were together?”

Jimmy’s question made Rose freeze mid-step. She spun around to face Jimmy, his face smug and victorious. “You’re jokin’,” she deadpanned. “You can’t be serious. ‘Good together?’“

“‘Course I am,” Jimmy said with an infuriating shrug, stepping even closer to Rose. This time she didn’t back away, anger planting her to the spot this time, instead of fear.

“We weren’t good together, Jimmy,” Rouse grounded out through clenched teeth. “‘Nd you’re delusional if you think that we were.”

Jimmy just rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Rose. It wasn’t all that bad.”

Rose opened her mouth, her face red with indignation, to refute him, but no words came out. She huffed and tried again, all the horrible times they had--every scathing word he’d said, every time he’d gotten drunk and yelled at her, every time he pushed her around or did worse, and the thousands of pounds of debt he left her with--playing on repeat in her head like a bad pop song. It was tuneless, painful, and bound to give her a headache, and she never wanted to think about again.

Seeing as words had failed her, Rose did the next best thing. She slapped him. Hard.

Jimmy’s head whipped to the side, hair falling in front of his face. Just like she had imagined a hundred times before by the time their relationship ended. For a moment, she was euphoric, the feeling slightly overturning the fury. Then she felt the sting of her palm and the desire to hit him again, this time with a fist. And then, when Jimmy lifted his head, Rose was reacquainted with the special kind of fear reserved just for him.

“You bitch,” he snarled, striding forward. Rose jumped backwards as he reached for her, but Jimmy moved quicker and snatched the wrist of the hand that she’d struck him with. Rose glanced over at her shoulder at the TARDIS, only ten meters away. She wondered if she broke Jimmy’s grip, if she’d be fast enough to make it.

A sharp jerk of her arm forced Rose to face Jimmy again. His eyes were livid, a sneer painted on his lips. “I think whatever rich bloke you’ve been warming the bed of has made you forget that you’re just a useless chav whore,” he snarled, leaning into Rose’s space even as she screwed up her face and leaned away.

“Go to hell, Jimmy,” Rose hissed, ignoring the stining in her eyes.

Anger flashed in his eyes, and he lifted his free hand—

“Oi!” A sharp, furious shout came from behind Rose. There was a series of sharp, heavy footsteps on the concrete behind Rose as he approached. Jimmy’s eyes lifted to look at the man behind her, but Rose didn’t turn. She wasn’t sure what she’d find in the Doctor’s eyes.

The Doctor came to stand just behind Rose. “Get your hands off her,” he growled, no doubt staring Jimmy down. After a moment of hesitation, Jimmy released Rose’s wrist, and she immediately stepped back until she could feel the Doctor’s arm brushing up against her back.

“This him, then,” Jimmy asked, giving the Doctor an appraising look. “Bit old for you, no? Or do you not care who you—”

The Doctor cut him off by striding forward, in front of Rose. “I’d be careful about what you say. Never know who might hear you.” The threat was clear in his voice, and while Jimmy was far from the brightest person on the estate, Rose knew he was good at surviving. Jimmy stepped backwards, hands up in surrender.

“Meant nothin’ by it, mate. Rose’s just an old friend; right, Rose?” Jimmy looked at her, those god-awful brown eyes boring into her.

“Go away, Jimmy,” she said, averting her eyes and hating herself for how quiet her voice was.

When Jimmy hesitated, the Doctor glared at him. “You ‘eard ‘er,” he drawled dangerously.

Wisely, Jimmy said nothing, the look in the Doctor’s eyes enough to tell him off. He turned around and headed off with a mumbled farewell in Rose’s direction that was less than genuine.

Rose didn’t wait to see Jimmy scurry across the courtyard before turning around and high-tailing it to the TARDIS. The Doctor caught up to her just as she was opening the doors and stepping inside.

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” he asked as Rose as she tried to escape the console room.

“It was nothing,” she said over her shoulder, not bothering to stop.

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

Rose simply shrugged, hesitating only for a moment, her heart still racing in her chest as she tried to keep her composure in front of him. Sure, they’d been through a lot together, but that didn’t mean he needed to know about Jimmy and the hundreds of stupid things she’d done before they’d met that night in Hendrick’s.

“Well, it was,” was all she offered before disappearing into the depths of the TARDIS.

After Rose dropped her clothes off in her room, she wandered down the TARDIS’s halls, further than she’d ever gone before, to find this strange room of knick knacks and screwed up physics—chairs hung to the walls with no obvious bolts or screws, a chain-linked lamp stood erect in the middle of the floor despite their being no support for it to do so, and the fire in the fireplace seemed to move horizontally, though Rose wasn’t sure about that one. She’d been here ever since, exploring the hidden corners and oddities that were scattered around the room, distracting herself from the memories and shame that were bubbling up from her encounter with Jimmy.

It was the sound of an opening door that let Rose know that the TARDIS wasn’t on her side. Muttering about meddlesome ships and glaring up at the ceiling—decorated with a gaudy shag rug—while listening to the Doctor’s approaching footsteps.

He appeared around the corner of a fallen bookcase—or an upright one, depending on where you stood in the room—and when he caught sight of Rose, he stopped at the end of the bookcase. He placed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, his expression unreadable. When it didn’t seem like he was going to speak first, Rose broke the silence.

“I haven’t seen this room before,” she said, making a show of looking around the room. “Not sure what it’s for, but I like it.” Rose nodded appreciatively, ignoring the growing sense of discomfort.

“Are you gonna stop lying to me now and tell me what really happened today?” The Doctor asked with a raised eyebrow. “Or are we just gonna pretend that everything’s normal?”

Rose raised a hand to her mouth, biting at the nail on her thumb. “Pretend everything is normal?” Rose said with a weak smile, but it came out as a question.

The Doctor leveled her with a look. “C’mon, Rose. Talk to me.” It was a request, not a demand, and the unusually soft expression on his face, his eyes pleading with her to open up, made her want to do just that.

Rose sighed, the tension draining from her shoulders. “His name’s Jimmy,” she stated lamely, realizing belatedly he’d probably heard her call him Jimmy already. “We dated—a long time ago. Before Mickey, obviously. Met him while I was still in school.” She shifted awkwardly on her feet, the words she wanted to stay stuck in her throat. She saw a couple of chairs—an orange armchair and a tall beige ottoman-type thing—over by a tall plant in the corner and walked over, plopping down in the armchair. The Doctor followed her, sitting down on the ottoman. She wrapped her arms around herself, turning to face the Doctor. His striking blue eyes soft, but intense.

“You don’t have to tell me, Rose, if you don’t want to,” he said kindly. “But I want you to know that you can.”

Rose nodded, emotion struggling to strangle her. “I know, I know. ‘Nd I do want to tell you, I just don’t like thinking about it.”

“Then just tell me the basics. Don’t need to go into detail,” the Doctor offered. Rose drew in a breath. The basics—she could do that. She let the breath out and started to talk.

“I met Jimmy when I was 14. He was 18 and the lead singer in the band. He dropped out of school to become a musician with his friends. When I was 15, he asked me out, and we started dating. At first, it was really good. He was kind and sweet, took me on really great dates, but. . . well, it didn’t last.”

Rose sighed and drew her feet up onto the chair to wrap her arms around them, risking a glance over at the Doctor. He nodded at her slightly, encouraging her to continue.

“When I was sixteen, Jimmy said that I should drop out and get a job—told me I was wasting my time with school and all. I believed him and the next thing I know we’re livin’ together in this dank bedsit, working at a corner store, and I’ve stopped talking to mum.” Tears sting Rose’s eyes, but she sniffs and refuses to let them fall. “We had such a big fight that night,” she says, more to herself than to the Doctor.

“It was a couple months after that happened that things started to get bad between us. Jimmy, he’d come home drunk and yelling, and when he had a gig, it’d be worse.” Rose remembered when he’d swan off with some girl, acting like it meant nothing and wasn’t tearing Rose up inside. “It only got worse when money got tight. I started working two jobs, and since I wasn’t around as much, the apartment just got dirtier and dirtier cuz Jimmy wasn’t cleanin’. He was just drinking with his mates and pretendin’ he had any chance at making it as a musician.” Rose scoffed, tears burning her throat and her eyes, remembering how stupid she’d been.

“Did he hit you?” the Doctor asked softly. She turned her head to look at him. Slowly, she nodded.

“Not often,” she whispered. “But. . .sometimes—sometimes he’d just get so angry, and I didn’t know what to do, and whatever I did do seemed to only make him angrier.” Her voice shook, and the tears started to fall from her eyes. Rose buried her head in her arms, crying softly.

She heard as the Doctor stood from the ottoman, and stepped in front of her. Felt his hands as he placed them on her shoulders and kneeled down. Rose looked up from her lap, his face only a few inches away from her own.

“Want me to throw him into a sun?” the Doctor offered. “‘Cause I can think of a couple of good ones—temperature low enough he might feel something before it kills him.” Rose couldn’t help the laugh that burst from her.

“Nah,” she shook her head, a watery smile on her face. “Cuz then he’d say ‘It’s bigger on the inside’ and he doesn’t deserve that.” The Doctor smiled softly, bringing a hand to her cheek. His touch was tender and warm, despite the body temperature difference.

“No, he doesn’t,” he agreed. “But if he ever comes near you again, I’m going to shoot him with my laser eyes.”

Rose snorted. “You don’t have laser eyes.”

“Mickey thought I did.”

#9rose week #rose tyler #timepetals #the doctor #ninth doctor #jimmy stone mention #rose tyler deserves better #ghostsfanficevents

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marlenacantswim · 10 months ago

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hey gang, do we all agree that ten's massive ego and god complex (or rather those traits being especially prominent in his regeneration) were a direct result of what happened in Parting of the Ways?

"marlena what the fuck do you mean" okay well think about it; ninth doctor. fresh off the time war. thinks himself unlovable, unworthy of love. just did a double genocide, including against his own people. he's returning to his old ways of lallygagging around helping humans in a more-than-desperate attempt to repress his feelings and try to mimic the person he was before the war. he's so vulnerable.

enter rose tyler. to him? she's the most amazing person in the universe. he loves her, full stop. she makes him feel like maybe he's still capable of love, but does he really trust her love for him? after all, she doesn't really know him, does she?

all that comes to a head when rose tyler becomes the bad wolf. in that moment, she sees everything. everything everything. the doctor's past, and the doctor's future. every horrible thing they did and will do.

and in that moment, with all this truth streaming constantly into her brain, most amazing person in the universe rose tyler looks at him and goes "i want to save you. you are worth saving."

bro no fucking shit ten has a motherfucking god complex, jesus christ i would too!!!

now personally i think nine would have rationalized it and been relatively Normal 'bout all that noise had he survived onwards, but unfortunately he didn't, and so when the doctor's subconscious and the universe were holding hands deciding what their new little guy should be like... well, we're already making him just for her, and she loves him.

rose tyler loves me. she loved me even when she knew me.

i'm just saying, that "Bad Wolf chose to save me" to "the laws of time are mine to command" pipeline is a straight vertical drop only a few feet long.

#there's also an argument to be made about the time vortex being responsible for his death #and how that might have contributed too #yeah sorry the inpenatrable waves of time lived inside your boyfriend and killed him #yeah and it kinda fucked up his regenerarion #so sorry girl your boyfriend's new life is tainted with the pull of ultimate power over one's domain #this won't actually mean much to you since your boyfriend will split in two #and the one you'll get to keep is too busy having a human brain and being warborn #but this will have horrible consequences for him after he turns six #and will emotionally devastate just about every other person he crosses paths with #but hey that's alright; remember that drunk guy who foretold good tidings on new year's?#yeah that was your boyfriend. he went back to see you as he was dying from the results of his god complex.#he came back to be with the reason he did everything— the reason he was— one last time #okay i'm making myself cry right now i gotta chill #running my mouth #doctor who #nuwho #tenth doctor #10th doctor #ninth doctor #9th doctor #the doctor #rose tyler

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gingerteaonthetardis · 5 months ago

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Autumnal doctor/rose, i lov it! How about ninerose and some alien hot cider?

thank you so much for this prompt, nonny! <3 hope you enjoy the fluff! and as always, please forgive any mistakes. i am my own worst grammatical enemy.

[read on AO3]

"That can't be right."

Through the doorway, he watched Rose laugh as she dumped yet another fistful of pseudocinnamon into a giant cauldron. The TARDIS had dug both out of storage—or generated them spontaneously, the Doctor suspected. He certainly would have noticed the cauldron before: the thing was massive, a piping hot shade of orange that assaulted the eyes, tall enough that Rose could barely see over the rim after hauling it up onto the hob. It was so fanciful and absurd he couldn't believe it was supposed to be functional.

It was also exactly what Rose had asked for.

Could hardly be a coincidence, could it?

You spoil her, he thought with a brief, mild accusatory glance upward. But he was not favoured with so much as a blinking light.

Typical.

The Doctor had always known the TARDIS had favourites, but he'd never in all his lives experienced such blatant, unrepentant spoiling of a travelling companion! The first time he'd seen Rose's bedroom—or, more accurately, palatial bedroom suite—he'd been gobsmacked. Her bed was enormous, at least twice the size of his. Though he wasn't much for throw pillows, hardly any aboard the ship had escaped the journey to Rose's bed; it was a miracle she could sit on the thing, let alone sleep there. And the eightieth century hi-fi teledeck?

No longer the centrepiece of the media room.

Which he was still sulking about.

But this was a new level of indulgence. The ship didn't just create matter out of nothing; everything had to come from somewhere—usually her vast stores of past rooms. To come up with something completely new involved energy transference. Effort. Time.

And, to create something as specific as a garish orange cooking cauldron? Care.

Shaking his head, he stepped inside the little galley kitchen. He'd followed his nose thus far, but the scent grew even more potent the moment he passed the threshold and into the sweltering heat of the narrow space.

"What do you mean?" Rose was asking, turning to look at him with big, worried eyes. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, nose and lips a berry pink. "This is exactly what the barista told me to do!" She rapidly dusted off her palms, a cloud of warm brown powder dispersing into the air, carrying with it the spicy, faintly floral scent of the cloned cinnamon root native to Chame. It made his nose itch. "Why would he lie?"

The Doctor scoffed. "To keep you coming back, Rose! All the way across the charted universe—dragging me and my poor ship with you—just to get your hands on the real thing," he said, with a grumbling noise of displeasure as punctuation. "Probably a bit of clever salesmanship."

Rose's smile slipped a little, prompting an unpleasant dip in his own stomach. It wasn't fair to her, him being so obviously jaded.

After all, the barista had been perfectly nice. To Rose.

Specifically.

"Was that a harrumph? Did you just harrumph at me?" Rose's head cocked, and the grin she set loose on him was a true blue Rose Tyler special, top to bottom: eyes sparkling, tongue curled around her teeth, and with a certain jaunty angle to her chin that told him she was gloating for some reason he didn't want to think too hard about, lest he actually find out what in the world she meant by it.

"Here, put this on. You can help," she said, turning to withdraw—from one of the kitchen's many and dangerously full drawers—an apron that didn't quite match her own. Hers had cheerful, smiling Jack-o'-lanterns all over a white backdrop, nestled amidst illustrations of autumn leaves and lit candles and seasonally appropriate candies that nobody he'd ever met actually enjoyed.

His apron... also had pumpkins on it.

"Oi! Is that s'posed to be me?"

He snatched the article from her hands, pulling it up to look closer at the frowny, grumpy-looking illustrations dotting the black fabric. The eyes and mouths of the Jack-o'-lanterns were slightly puckered, like someone had left the pumpkins out in rough weather for a few days, and it gave them a uniformly sour, Scrooge-like expression.

His gaze narrowed, and Rose pressed her lips together, like she desperately didn't want to laugh. "Don't look like that," she managed, raising her hands. "I just asked her for aprons."

The Doctor scowled, even as a part of him perked up. Aprons, plural. Had she wanted him to join her all this time? Why hadn't she said anything?

"Anyway, don't worry," she went on carelessly, "nobody's here to see you in it."

You are, he thought in spite of himself.

His eyes followed her as she took back the apron and motioned for him to bend so she could drape it around his neck. The brush of her jumper-clad arms against his hair made the tips of his ears tingle and grow warm, and he ducked his head nearly to his chest in sudden awkwardness. The few moments it took for her to make a knot would give him just enough time to get hold of his rebellious—not to mention ridiculous—biology, he decided.

Don't be daft, came his stern internal voice.

There. Job done.

When he righted himself, Rose was beaming. "I dunno," she said, tipping her head this way and that, observing him, her ponytail flopping about. "I think it works for you."

"Do you now?" He looked down at the frowning pumpkins spread across his chest; they were even more wrinkled and unpleasant viewed upside-down.

But if Rose thought differently...

"Yeah." She nodded more definitely. "Very good look."

Well, then.

Making the cider took more time but was somehow less involved than it seemed Rose had expected.

Aside from grinding up all the pseudocinnamon and quartering the apples—they hadn't picked up any authentic Autogolds on their last grocery stop, but had some lovely Galas to hand—the other steps were quick and simple. Most of the process was a load of hurry up and wait.

Which left them with little to do but hover around the cauldron, breathing in the steam and knocking hips when they got too close. Which was often.

"What's so great about this cider anyway?" the Doctor finally asked, after a few moments of grinning at one another across the cauldron. He dipped the wooden spoon in for another sample, wondering when he'd suddenly taste what made it special enough for Rose to go to all this effort.

He remembered the overly-friendly barista, smiling with all his teeth. He remembered walking around the market stalls afterwards, Rose beaming and pointing out every little thing that caught her eye while the sun set. He remembered sudden warm pressure—how she hid her face against his shoulder when a stiff wind blew through the courtyard, setting all the beads in the jewelers' tents tinkling and flashing. There were no skittering leaves to speak of, but the whole scene had given a passable impression of a mild Earth autumn day.

It had been a good day, yes. But the cider had been rather ordinary.

Rose nudged his hip again, then deftly pulled the spoon from his hand. "Stop messing with it, or it's never gonna brew right. We're s'posed to let it sit." She replaced the lid, closing in the steam and the gentle sound of simmering. Then she sighed. "I dunno. The barista told me all the ingredients and how to make it and it all seemed fairly normal, I guess, but there was just something about it—comforting. Couldn't put my finger on why. Maybe because it was such a perfect day," she added absently, fiddling with the hem of her apron.

The Doctor stilled. "Perfect?"

When he looked at her face, her eyes were on the floor. "Yeah. Think it was."

"Not... boring?" he asked, wishing she'd look up at him. But she was just crossing one foot over another, concentrating on her shoelaces. He wondered why.

After they'd dropped Adam off on Earth, he recalled with a scowl, he had gone a bit mad with the easy trips. Just a little break, he called it. But their "break" had turned into weeks of short stops on interesting—but more importantly, peaceful—worlds. Playing tourists.

At first, neither of them had really known what to do with themselves in these sorts of places. Relaxation was anathema. And Rose had been around long enough to know you never took off your running shoes, not ever, so she didn't quite let her guard down either. They'd wandered around, taking in the sights—Rose was never short on curiosity and clever questions—but it was always with their backs up. Ready for anything. It was a vigilance neither exactly knew how to shrug off.

Especially after he'd nearly lost her.

And she knew it.

They would meet each other's eyes and just know what the other was thinking of. The Dalek, the laser to the back of her head. Incomplete goodbyes over a staticky video. And the fear in her eyes when he'd run toward her with a gun in his hands. He hadn't felt that kind of shame in... a long, long while.

But they'd survived.

It took every moment of those two weeks to make him believe it. And it was only once they landed on Chame, in that market—so familiar, so Earth-like, and yet so different—that the calm finally found them. Arm in arm, meandering through a crowd with warm cups of cider in their hands. He'd realised then he wasn't waiting for the next thing to come around the corner. And neither was she.

Time had passed since that day on Chame. Back to the old life. The adventures. Neither of them could bear to stand still for long, or rest on their laurels. There were so many worlds needed saving, where time and tide of history had to be set right. It was never-ending.

It was their life.

But not the only part. Was that why she wanted to recreate the cider?

"No," Rose said after a moment. "Not boring. Not for me." She finally looked up, eyes soft. Shrugging helplessly. "Could never get bored with you."

The Doctor swallowed. Her proximity was like gravity.

He felt himself tipping into it. Giving in to it. Hands lifting to settle on her arms. and his head falling forward, lips coming to rest gently on her crown. Her hair smelled like apples and cinnamon and warm human.

It would have been impossible for him to say it, but he had no doubt she knew.

That day hadn't been boring for him either. It had been... more than good.

It had been perfect. The day's very ordinariness made it unusual, standing out like a burning star amidst their murkier, often more difficult travels. Its simplicity—its uncomplicated pleasures—made it rare and maybe even worth recreating. Sometimes.

"All right, then," he said. "We'll have cider." He couldn't say all he felt, couldn't tell her he understood, because he didn't know exactly what he felt. Like a pinching deep within him, clenching tight around his hearts. The Dalek had called it love; his people might have called it foolishness.

All the Doctor knew was, he wanted more perfect days with her.

#it's so funny because i feel like i'm allergic to unalloyed fluff like even when i try hard there's always just a pinch of angst!! but #i hope you enjoy this one anyway nonny <3 and thank you for contributing to project Get Abbey Writing Again!#abbey.txt #dw fic #doctor x rose #ninerose #ninth doctor #rose tyler #my fic #prompt fic #timepetals #doctorrose #nine x rose

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raph-fangirl · 8 months ago

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SHILOH ROSETTE'S MASTERPOST

It would be so much to me if you took the time to donate even $1. I am broke living with my conservative parents and my only income is from random house sitting jobs. I don't have a steady income and want to do art for a living. Anything is appreciated <3 I have tiers for monthly supporters but you can also do a one-time donation.

MY STORIES

❖ That Which We Call Beast - A Victorian-era Beauty and the Beast retelling. Has been described by some of my readers as: "If Jane Austen wrote Beauty and the Beast". Ongoing. First installment in the That Which We Call Beast trilogy.

❖ A Tale of the Shapeshifters - My first ever complete novel. A Beauty and the Beast retelling set in early 1900s Ireland. Two shapeshifters do their best to hide their secret from one another, but that soon becomes the least of their worries as the past unfurls itself.

❖ Demon x Reader (unedited) - A sexy, fun, romantic story of a woman who never realized she wanted anything other than her plain, vanilla life with her husband in the suburbs---that is, until a perverted demon steals her away.

Chapters 1 - 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

❖ When Lilies Pierce Thorns - The second installment of the That Which We Call Beast trilogy. Has not been written yet.

❖ Melisande - Upcoming prequel/midquel to the That Which We Call Beast trilogy. Focuses on our dearly beloved evil queen herself and her villain origin story.

❖ Raphael - Upcoming sequel to the That Which We Call Beast trilogy. Focuses on our favorite wet pathetic man and his redemption arc.

❖ Tyler & Alaca - Childhood friends to lovers, with some werewolf and vampire shenanigans to make things interesting. Twilight and Castlevania lore but more original than fanfic.

❖ Forte-Piano - A Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas prequel. Forte is determined to become the castle composer, but will this ambitious young pianist get in his way? BxB

❖ Shark x Mermaid story (title tba) - A young mermaid is desperately in love with a human, but has been betrothed to a mer-prince. In the midst of her predicament, she meets a were-shark who annoys her to no end and challenges her entire worldview, but that she can't stay away from.

❖ Donatello x OC TMNT fic (title tba) - Donnie has always loved April from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Even though April is now dating Casey Jones, and he and his brothers have become friends with a new outsider girl--Serafina--Donnie can't help but still harbor feelings for her. When he starts spending more time with Serafina, will he let his old feelings go or will he make a mess bigger than anyone could have ever imagined?

❖ In the Garden of the Witch - Completed short story. Hedy is so ready to be married to the love of her life, Bruno. Even if he is a beast, he has the soul of a man. But one day, something changes in him, and he leaves her. Will she be able to find him as she travels through the wilderness? Will Bruno recapture his humanity? Or will a conniving witch mess everything up for the two lovers?

❖ Dandelion - Completed short story in the middle of edits. Dandelion does not know what it means to have a family or to love another person. So what will happen one night when two people who say they knew her parents randomly show up asking for her help?

❖ He Who Dares Not Grasp the Thorn Should Never Crave the Rose - Beauty and the Beast one-shots and short stories for all versions. From the original myths, to Madame Villeneuve's novel, to Jean Cocteau's film, to Disney's movies, and beyond! Feel free to commission or request a piece.

❖ My Fair Ladyhood & Other Short Stories - Incomplete collection of short stories I've written and will continue to write.

Includes My Fair Ladyhood, an imitative memoir I wrote for a class: Southern Women's Literature. This is an extremely personal piece that explores my relationships throughout my life thus far, as well as my issues with body image and eating disorders.

And Nolan's Flood: Charlotte McPherson is the only girl—and one of the only people—in the town of Roadsdale who can read. This makes her particularly interesting to the local doctor and part-time Sunday school teacher, Mr. Nolan. Although they don't know each other well, the two make plans to marry. But how long will this courtship last in the face of tragedy?

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#beauty and the beast #writing #writblr #fantasy #novel #masterpost #romance #historical #fairytale #writeblr #batb

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lastbluetardis · 3 months ago

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What Makes a Family (2/?)

Summary: Single parents Rose Tyler and James McCrimmon come together to embark on a whirlwind, passionate romance that seems to be the happy ending neither of them thought they’d get. But when James’s past comes back to haunt them and threatens to tear away everything they’ve built together, they must find a way to weather the storm that will either break them or draw them ever closer, all while answering the question of what it means to be a family.

💜 It’s back!! This is the new and improved version!! 💜

Ten x Rose AU

This Chapter: Teen, ~6800 words

AO3

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“There’s a new boy in my class!”

James McCrimmon looked up from the calendar he was putting together of assignments, projects, and lesson plans for the month of September: there were a few units he was shuffling around, but for the most part, he could use his old calendar from last school year. That was the best part about teaching, in his opinion: once he had his first year under his belt, everything else came much more easily, since he wasn’t starting from a completely blank slate.

His nine-year-old daughter, Alex, skipped cheerily through the door of his classroom, the French braid he’d done for her that morning miraculously still intact and bouncing off her shoulders. She flashed him a grin that stole his heart all over again, and he was suddenly aware of how much he’d missed her over the course of the school day.

“Hiya, darling,” he said, rolling his chair away from his desk and opening his arms for her. She dropped her school bag onto an empty desk, then vaulted into his lap. He gave her a big hug and pecked a kiss to her cheek. “What do you mean there’s a new boy in your class? It’s the first day; isn’t everyone new?”

Alex let out a sigh of the long-suffering. “Well, yeah, but I at least recognized everyone else. But David’s brand new. That’s his name. David. He just moved here, all the way from London.”

“Wow,” James said. “Must be hard for him, starting at a new school and not knowing anyone, huh?”

“I’m gonna be his friend,” Alex said brightly.

His heart swelled; Alex seemed to go through life making it her personal mission to love everyone she met. If only adults could be so kind. Other children, too. Far too many of Alex’s friendships fizzled out because she was too much for them to handle: too loud, too giddy, too energetic. Every time Alex came home crying that so-and-so didn’t want to be her friend anymore, a small piece of him died inside, buried with the friends he, too, had lost through the decades for the exact same reasons. The apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree at all in that regard.

“That’s very kind of you,” he murmured, kissing her cheek again. “How was the rest of your day? High and low?”

“Low: they had tinned pears for dessert at lunch.” Alex pulled the most disgusted face he’d ever seen on a nine-year-old, and James had to stifle a chuckle. He wasn’t sure if his daughter hated pears because he hated pears, or if she genuinely didn’t like the fruit of her own volition. Either way, if that was the worst part about her day, all was well. “It was so gross. I gave mine to Connor, and he gave me the banana his mum packed him in his lunch. High: I won the class spelling challenge and got a lolly. Miss Oswald was testing us to make sure we knew our vocabulary from last year. I did.”

“That’s wonderful, well done,” he praised.

“Your turn,” she prompted. “High and low.”

“Low: I’ve got all these worksheets to mark.” James gestured to the stack of algebra problems that he was using to gauge the sort of maths he needed to review before starting new material with his Year Sixes. He hoped his students remembered their basic arithmetic. “Love the teaching, hate the marking. And my high: I found some new slow cooker recipes that sound yummy. We can try one out this weekend, if you’d like.”

“Ooh, lemme see!”

James absently bounced his daughter in his lap as he pulled up his web browser’s bookmark tab where he’d saved the recipes. He opened each of the ones that caught his eyes in individual tabs, then began showing them to Alex in the order of what he thought she’d like best.

They spent the next few minutes reading the recipes together. While they did, James watched his daughter’s face intently, noting the ones that piqued her interest and the ones she wrinkled her nose at. She wasn’t necessarily a picky eater, per se, but she never consistently had a favorite food; one day she would love spaghetti, then the next wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole, and would be back to loving it the following week. It certainly made meal planning a difficult chore.

“This sounds like Chinese takeaway,” Alex said, pointing to the recipe for chicken and broccoli. “Can we do this one?”

“Sure thing. We can stop by the shops after school on Friday to get everything we’ll need.”

“M’kay. I’m hungry,” she announced, hopping out of his lap.

“Yeah? All that talk of food make you a bit peckish?” James rolled his chair back to the mini-fridge he kept beneath his desk and rooted around for an apple and container of yogurt. Before he could ask “Which one do you want?”, Alex snatched the apple and bit into it. A droplet of juice dribbled down her chin.

James handed her a napkin and said, “Once I finish these worksheets, we’ll go home. Do you have anything to work on? Let me see your log book.”

Alex rummaged through her backpack and pulled out a small spiral-bound notebook calendar planner. She handed it to him, and he flipped it open to today’s date. Apart from “read for twenty minutes at home”, she had no other homework. Not surprising, considering it was the first day of school. No teacher he knew assigned homework on the first day.

“Right, once you finish your snack, I’ll let you watch something on YouTube ‘til I finish my grading.”

Alex rolled her eyes and nodded, her mouth too full for her to form a proper reply. He couldn’t help it; even though this was their normal routine—Alex joining him in his classroom at the end of every school day—he could never stop himself from reminding her of the schedule: that he had papers to grade or lessons to plan, so she needed to sit quietly for an hour working on her own schoolwork before they could go home for the night.

The sound of chewing became background noise as James worked swiftly through the problems he’d assigned his class. He had the answer key memorized, so it was a simple enough matter of granting the questions a check mark or an X. He was relieved to see that he wouldn’t need to do too much review, apart from reminding students how to work with fractions in their algebra. They seem to have forgotten that finding a common denominator when adding and subtracting was a requirement, not a suggestion.

He wrapped up his work earlier than usual, right as one of Alex’s YouTube videos came to an end. He stepped up to her, popped her earbuds out, and whispered, “Time to go home.”

She dutifully shut down the computer then set it in his desk drawer where it would be waiting for her tomorrow afternoon, as always.

James slung his bag over one shoulder and guided his child out of his classroom, locking the door behind him. There were a few other teachers milling about the halls, as well as the janitorial staff.

“Goodnight, Mr. O’Brien!”

“Goodnight, Miss McCrimmon.” Graham O’Brien, a kindly, recently-widowed gentleman, sketched a half-bow to Alex, making her giggle and follow up with a curtsey.

Alex bade goodnight to every soul they came across. She knew them all by name, and they, in kind, knew her. Not just as the daughter of one of the teachers, but as a cheery little girl who was genuinely kind to everyone. On more than one occasion over the years, a teacher or staff member came by to tell James of an encounter they had with Alex that had brightened their day, whether it was a card she’d made for them out of the blue, or how she’d complimented their new haircut.

When the pair returned home to their small, end-unit terraced house, the first thing Alex did was race to the back door to let in the bouncing, fluffy creature staring piteously at them through the glass.

“K9!” Alex cried, as though it had been weeks since she’d seen her dog rather than a few hours.

The black-and-while labradoodle danced around Alex’s legs, his entire back half wriggling with excitement and pleasure as Alex smothered him in kisses and scratches. He rolled onto his back, tongue lolling as Alex gave him ample belly rubs.

“Ready to go for a walk?” Alex cooed. “Ready for a walkie?”

K9 bounded to his feet at the “w” word, then eagerly followed his little mistress to her bedroom where she changed out of her school uniform. Likewise, James changed out of his work clothes and put on a worn pair of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt that would help combat the chill of the evening air. Summer was ending early, it seemed.

When he returned to the foyer, Alex was in the middle of securing the walking harness around their dog, who, despite his rapidly-wagging tail, was standing patiently.

“Got it?” James asked, double-checking her work, even though she’d been proficient with getting K9 harnessed up for years.

“Got it.” She clipped the lead to the harness. “Let’s go!”

K9 pranced in place while James grabbed the house key, then opened the front door. Despite the dog’s eagerness, he didn’t pull on his leash; rather, he let himself be guided out of the house by Alex and stayed right by her heel, letting her set the pace. Those months of obedience training when he was a puppy paid off, helped by the fact that K9 seemed to be a more intelligent than usual animal.

James snapped a quick photo of his child and dog on his phone, then fell into step with Alex. As they walked through the neighborhood, greeting anyone and everyone they passed, Alex continued to recount the minutiae of her school day.

“Miss Oswald assigned a project already,” Alex announced. “On the solar system, due in a couple weeks—September nineteenth. We’ve got to build a model with the sun and all eight planets, but we can include Pluto if we want to ‘cos we know he’s out there, and Miss Oswald said that ages ago Pluto used to be its own planet but then some scientists decided it wasn’t. How does that work? How can they just say a planet isn’t a planet when we know it’s a planet?”

James was about to explain exactly how and why Pluto was demoted, but his daughter barreled on, her question seemingly rhetorical.

“And we’ve got to try and make the planets’ sizes as accurate as possible. Not like, accurate, ‘cos obviously planets are massive, but to scale with each other. Roughly. So Jupiter has to be the biggest—well, the sun is the biggest, but you know what I mean—and Mercury has to be the smallest. And we can try to color-code them if we want, and I do want to, so we have to paint Mercury gray and Venus yellow and Earth green and blue and…”

It was impressive that she hadn’t paused to catch her breath yet, but rather continued to ramble on and on about her project. At least she’s excited about it, James thought. Unlike her project on Guy Fawkes last year.

The assignment had been to play pretend at being a museum tour guide with specialty knowledge of a famous historical figure. Each student was to stand in front of the class and talk for a few minutes about their person. The one mistake Alex’s teacher had made regarding the project was assigning the historical figure to the students, rather than letting them pick one. James understood the rationale; at that age, most eight-year-olds likely didn’t have much experience with historical figures to get a diverse enough representation that wasn’t solely old monarchs. But Alex struggled with the project because she was disinterested in the person she was assigned.

James had practiced with his daughter every night in the days leading up to the presentation, but she utterly refused to cooperate, and had rushed through the spiel of Guy Fawkes with no facts other than the gruesome details of his death. It had been no surprise, therefore, when James had been called into an after-school meeting with Alex and her teacher to discuss why her presentation had gone so poorly, even though she could recite fact after fact about Guy Fawkes when prompted.

Alex’s response had merely been, “Guy Fawkes is so boring. He was part of a failed plot to kill a king, got caught, then died, and now we’ve got Bonfire Night, which is the only good thing about him anyway.”

That had prompted James to tell her that lots of things in her life would be boring, but she needed execute even the most boring of tasks satisfactorily. He wasn’t sure how well the lesson sank in, considering she’d only done marginally better on the second chance her teacher had given her to complete the project. However, the teacher told James that, going forward, students could pick their historical figure, or be assigned one if they couldn’t come up with anyone to research.

Presently, Alex was listing everything she knew about the various planets, from their size to surface temperature to how many moons—if any—orbited around them. She even began to recite some of the names of the moons certain planets had, then asked another rhetorical question about why Earth’s moon didn’t have a proper name like all of the other moons, and that society should come up with a name for it.

James was struck with such pride that he’d created such a clever little human. He would have to tell Alex’s teacher, Clara, that this planet project would probably be Alex’s favorite assignment of the year.

After an hour of walking the familiar streets of their neighborhood, they arrived back home and started on dinner. Alex fed and watered K9 while James tended to their food, warming up leftover chicken parmesan and peas.

“Wanna be Eugene or Olaf?” Alex asked, holding up two blue cups with the respective Disney characters printed on them.

“Either,” he said absently, testing to see if their meals were heated through.

“Eugene, since your hair’s the same,” Alex said with a decisive nod. “I’m gonna be Belle.”

Alex filled their cups with water and plopped down in her usual seat at the kitchen table. Really, it had been a card table from his days at uni, but with just him and his daughter living in their small house, they didn’t need much more space than that.

James mentally rehearsed his lesson plans for the following day while he ate, only half-listening to Alex, who inexplicably still had more to talk about, then they worked together to clean up the dishes from their meal.

And that was their night. Years of engrained habits made for a predictable—if not a little dull—evening, even down to their dog knowing when Alex’s bedtime was. K9 dutifully sat on the floor at the foot of Alex’s bed while James tucked himself onto the edge of her twin-sized mattress to read a few chapters of Matilda together. The book was one of her favorites; they must have read it a dozen times together, enough so that James nearly had the whole thing memorized.

When he reached a good stopping point, James stuffed a bookmark between the pages and set the novel on Alex’s bedside table.

“I like Miss Honey,” Alex said, tucking her arm tightly around his waist and preventing him from leaving her bed yet. He melted back into the mattress, happy to give her more snuggles. “I don’t like Matilda’s mum and dad. They’re mean.”

“Yeah, they are,” he agreed, resting his cheek into her soft, chestnut locks.

“You’re not mean to me,” Alex continued.

“I try not to be. Funnily enough, I like you quite a lot,” he teased, poking her side.

Alex squirmed and breathed out a silent laugh. She yawned and hugged him tighter. “Hey Daddy?”

“Hey whatty?”

“I’m never gonna have any siblings, am I?”

James froze, mind whirring to figure out where the question had come from. Was it the book they’d just read? Matilda had an older brother, but as they established, the Wormwood family was rubbish.

“Well, never is quite the absolute,” he started, scratching at the back of his suddenly-hot neck. “It’s got a sort of finality, doesn’t it? Never…”

Alex sighed, her shoulders drooping. James cringed, and amended his daft response by gently saying, “No, you probably won’t have any siblings.”

“Why not?” she asked, frowning. “I hate being an only child. Everyone else has brothers and sisters except for me!”

James’s heart sank at her outburst. “I’m sure that’s not true. Loads of kids don’t have brothers or sisters—I never did.”

“We had to introduce ourselves to the class today and only one other kid in my class was an only child.” Alex sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “It’s not fair!”

James pulled her close, tucking his cheek to her hair and rubbing long, slow lines down her back. “I’m sorry, darling, but sometimes that’s just the way things are. Sometimes things in life aren’t fair, and it’s really crummy, but we need to find a way to be okay with it.”

She kept her face buried in his chest as she said, “Don’t you want more kids?”

James licked his lips. Alex loosely knew where babies came from and how they were made, but like most nine-year-olds, he didn’t think she truly understood the full picture, or the implications therein.

“Well, for starters, having a baby takes two people,” he hedged. “And it’s just me. So that rather throws a spanner in the works, doesn’t it?”

Alex stilled for a moment, then pulled back to look up at him. Her eyes weren’t nearly red enough for her to have been properly crying, but her distress was unmistakable nevertheless.

“Don’t you want to get married?” she asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s complicated.”

If he were being honest, James had considered marriage exactly once: when his on-again, off-again girlfriend, River, informed him that she was pregnant in the summer before their final year at university. And even then, it had been an impulsive proposal on his part. Though he’d only known about the baby for all of thirty seconds, he was determined not to be his father, who’d never acknowledged James’s existence, or his mother, who often left him in the care of his grandparents because she was too busy enjoying her youth to be weighed down by a child.

Thankfully River had knocked some sense into him, and the conversation of marriage had never gone further than those first few minutes.

But since then, there had never been anyone in James’s life he’d considered spending his forever with. There had been Joan, whom he’d dated for slightly over a year when Alex was a toddler, but there hadn’t been any sort of spark between them—just familiarity and a mutual desire not to be alone. Then there was Harry, who, until last Christmas, had been a fellow teacher that James regularly hooked up with after work parties and events. Harry had moved away to Wales, and James found that after the initial pang of loss, he didn’t really miss Harry at all.

He wondered if that meant there was something wrong with him, that nobody ever cared to stay long enough to want to stay forever.

“Well I think you should get married and have lots of babies so I can have lots of siblings,” Alex announced decisively, breaking him out of his maudlin thoughts.

“Duly noted.” James leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Time to get some sleep. I love you very much. Even if it’s just you and me forever, I’ll never be disappointed with our life.”

A hint of a smile flashed across her lips, and she leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Love you, too. Nighty night.”

He carefully slid off the mattress and tugged the blankets up to her shoulders. Alex grabbed them and hugged them tight to her chest, cocooning herself in their comfort, as she wriggled into the warm spot left behind by his body. He stroked her hair, brushing it away from her face, and moved to exit her room. On the way, he gave K9 a quick scratch behind his ears.

“Good boy. Keep her safe. Chase away her scary dreams.”

The dog snuffled, as though understanding his nightly assignment, and curled up on the floor in a way that he faced the door. James smiled fondly, and left.

He went back to the kitchen and sat with his computer at the table to get a few things finished for his class for the following morning. He proofread the algebra worksheets he’d be giving his students, and triple-checked that he knew how to do all of the practice problems correctly without looking at his notes.

However, the lessons review took longer than he would have liked because he kept getting distracted with the conversation he’d had with Alex. This wasn’t the first time she’d inquired about having siblings—and it probably wouldn’t be the last—but it was the first time she’d expressed such displeasure at being an only child.

Truthfully, James had never considered fatherhood until it had been thrust upon him unceremoniously. While she had turned out to be the best gift of his life, his daughter hadn’t exactly been planned. Though he’d flourished in fatherhood, his child would be hard-pressed to get a sibling, as his dating life over the past almost-decade had been non-existent apart from impersonal hookups on occasion. Even those had cooled in recent years.

Blowing out a tense breath, James stood up, not in the mood to do any more lesson prep, knowing his focus was finished for the night. Instead, he meandered to his bedroom and the locked briefcase he kept in the back of his closet beside his locked safe of sex toys that were surely covered in dust and cobwebs for how infrequently they were used nowadays.

He grabbed the briefcase and flicked the dial to reflect the correct number combination, and popped open the case. It was where he kept all important legal documents for himself and Alex, but at the very bottom of the stack was a small stash of near-pristine photographs. He picked them up, handling them gingerly as though his mere touch would ruin them, and began to leaf through them.

The top-most photograph had been taken by a helpful nurse on the morning of Alex’s birth. James smiled at the sight of his pink, wrinkly, furious-looking baby. Her brows were knitted and her little lips were puckered into a frown, as though she couldn’t believe the audacity of the universe to force her into existence.

At the time this photograph had been taken, James hadn’t yet held Alex. His baby was instead resting on her mother’s chest.

James’s eyes wandered to the wild-haired woman cradling Alex to her breast. River. Part of James balked to refer to River as Alex’s mother, because what kind of mother abandoned her newborn child without a word, without an explanation. What kind of mother walked away and never looked back? James hadn’t heard from River in the nine and a half years she’d been gone; he didn’t even know if she was still alive.

He forced his long-held resentment at bay, knowing that River’s leaving was probably for the best. If she’d stayed, James knew in his heart of hearts their relationship never would have lasted. It would have crumbled to ash, and River would have gotten primary custody of their daughter—James would’ve been lucky to see his child on a weekly basis. He couldn’t imagine not having Alex every day, not tucking her into bed every night and hearing her say, “Nighty night, Daddy. I love you.”

A physical ache lodged somewhere behind his ribs until he reminded himself that he did have Alex with him, and always would. No, despite the initial terror and pain of abandonment, things had worked out for the best. Still, despite knowing he was better off without River, sometimes he yearned for the comfort of being with someone he was familiar with; he could always lose himself in her, for better or worse. Nobody ever talked about how lonely it was being a single parent; it was always about how hard it was to be the sole caretaker of a young child, or how rewarding the joy of parenthood was. And it was hard, and rewarding, but it was also incredibly isolating. There weren’t many opportunities to go out and meet people; or, if he did get a chance to go out, it was usually to take Alex on a playdate, where he would hang out with other parents who all seemed to be happily married or otherwise taken.

How did people do this, go on dates? Sure, he’d gone on plenty of dates when he’d been an unencumbered bachelor, but that had been at university, where he’d been surrounded by other horny young adults looking for a bit of fun. It was almost as if that part of his life had been lived by someone else. Someone with charm and charisma, someone without a care in the world, who didn’t know the meaning of responsibility even if it smacked him in the face.

It had been so easy back then. He had made dozens of friends from sheer proximity, had been invited to loads of parties where it was no trouble at all to drunkenly make out with whomever caught his fancy that night. No strings attached.

But now, he found, he wanted some strings. Now that he’d begun fixating on Alex’s of question about whether he wanted to get married, he couldn’t stop. What would it be like, knowing there was someone he could come home to, could fix dinner with, could share the household chores with? How comforting would it be to know there was someone with whom he could share all of his secrets and fears and dreams?

The thought of this mysterious figment of his imagination lodged a lump in his throat that he had a hard time swallowing down.

James cursed, frustrated with and sorry for himself. He replaced the photographs—all of which featured the long-lost River Song—back into his briefcase, before returning it to his closet, once again locking his past firmly away. He was luckier than most. He had a wonderful child, a stable job, and a nice (albeit small) home. And a dog. How could he possibly want anything more than that?

Damn Alex and her questions. And damn himself for getting stuck on this train of thought. He was a twenty-nine-year-old single father, and being a father would always come first. He would never trade his child for anyone, not even if the universe would guarantee him his perfect soulmate in exchange. Alex was his life’s greatest achievement, his greatest gift, his greatest joy. But dating as a single dad was hard. Most people weren’t exactly content to be second-best in a relationship, because that’s what they would be. His daughter would take priority, and there was no compromising that.

If only there was a way to advertise up front what his expectations were in a relationship, he lamented.

That thought brought him pause. Advertise…

He lived in the twenty-first century, didn’t he? He had the entire internet at his disposal, humankind at the tips of his fingers.

Before he could lose his nerve, James grabbed his phone from his pocket to send a message to one of his oldest friends. “Hypothetically, if one were to sign up for a dating app, which app should one choose?”

He should have known better than to think this entire conversation could be a text thread. Barely a minute after he sent the message, his phone buzzed in his palm with an incoming call: Jack Harkness.

With a heavy exhale, James flopped onto his couch and accepted the call.

“Doth mine eyes deceive me, or is James McCrimmon actually trying to get laid?”

James rolled his eyes, even as a ghost of a grin pulled up the corners of his mouth. “Good evening to you, too, Jack. And it was a hypothetical scenario, remember?”

“Well, hypothetically, I think you’re looking for a shag.”

“No,” James said with more patience than his friend probably deserved, “I’m just, y’know, entertaining the possibility of going out on a date. Getting to know someone. That’s all.”

“Getting to know someone biblically?”

“Jack!”

His friend laughed boisterously on the other end of the phone. “All right, all right. You’ll want to avoid Tinder then. Loads of horny people on that app. I assume you’re not looking to shag on the first date? You haven’t done that since uni.”

James’s cheeks and ears heated a bit. “Well, I’m not opposed to it, if there’s chemistry. But I’d prefer to meet someone who’s interested in a long-term relationship. I don’t want any quick, meaningless flings. I want, well, I want a partner. And I want someone who knows how important Alex is to me, and who accepts that and won’t try to change it.”

“I hear you loud and clear.”

Jack then launched into a ten-minute spiel about the various dating apps James could try, as well as providing his opinion on which ones would probably work best for what James was looking for. James digested all of the information as it poured out of his friend’s mouth, making a mental list of pros and cons for the recommended apps.

Once his app of choice was downloaded onto his phone, James continued speaking to Jack for advice on how to best advertise himself.

“I’m a man, interested in any gender, looking for… why can’t I click both friendship and serious relationship?” James asked as he set up his profile. “I’d like to be friends with my future partner. Doesn’t everyone want to be friends with the person they’re dating?”

“Funnily enough, it often doesn’t cross peoples’ minds to be friends with their significant other,” Jack drawled. “Not like you can talk; you and River were just fuck buddies.”

James bristled a bit, even though Jack wasn’t exactly wrong. But there was a bit more nuance to it. At least that’s what James always told himself. “We were friendly enough. We appreciated each other’s company to keep seeing each other throughout our days at uni. And we shared enough fondness for one another that we moved in when we learned of the pregnancy.”

“Well, yeah, ‘cos you’re a decent guy,” Jack argued. “Anyone else would’ve scampered away and refused to acknowledge that they’d ever had sex with the girl they’d knocked up. You know, it’s funny… you did the stereotypically “woman” thing by doing the best by your child and staying for her, while River did the stereotypically “man” thing by swanning off to God knows where.”

“Wasn’t very funny from where I was sitting,” James grumbled.

“You know I didn’t mean it like haha-funny. Peculiar-funny is what I meant. You know I was furious with River, too.”

James sighed and rubbed the heel of his hands into his eyes. “Yeah, I know. Thanks. But we’re getting sidetracked. I’m just gonna click that I’m looking for something serious. Oh Jesus, how do I describe myself in five hundred characters or less?!”

“Hmm, let’s see… Single dad looking for a life partner but will show you a good time too. Flaming hot sexy teacher who would be down for some kinky roleplay…”

“I’m trying not to attract one-night stands, thanks,” James interrupted. “Shut up and let me think.”

It was more difficult than it should have been, but after a few minutes of typing, deleting, and editing, James finally read out his profile bio: “I’m interested in finding a romantic partner. I’m a single dad of a beautiful nine-year-old girl who is my whole world. We like to play board games together and take walks with our dog. She likes to experiment in the kitchen, so we’re always cooking and baking. We love to travel, and we make a point of visiting a city we’ve never been to on school holidays. We also enjoy quieter pastimes of visiting museums or art galleries. If any of this appeals to you, send me a message.”

James knew he’d done something wrong by the series of impatient sighs Jack let out the longer he rattled off his information.

“As delightful as Alex is, people want to date you, not your daughter,” Jack said, exasperated.

Face heating, James skimmed back over what he’d written and mumbled, “Well, it’s all true. I can help it. Alex is my life.”

“I know she is,” Jack said softly. “But you know you’re allowed to have a life apart from your child, right?”

“Pfft. Nobody ever told me that.” James groaned and scrubbed his hands down his face. “It’s hopeless. I’m hopeless. I’m nearly thirty and have no bloody idea how to get somebody to go on a date with me. I can’t even figure out online dating.”

“You’re a perfect catch for someone,” his friend soothed. “But to find that someone, we need to tailor your profile a little bit. I’m not saying to cut out all mentions of Alex, because your future partner should know how seriously you take this fatherhood thing. But you need to put more of yourself into it. Believe it or not, you’re a pretty great person. I have no regrets from our twelve-year friendship.”

Jack’s words did little to quell the acid churning through James’s gut. “Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. Maybe I should, I dunno, join a chess club and meet someone that way.”

“No no no, don’t give up yet,” Jack cajoled. “We can figure this out. There’s got to be someone on this damp little island who wants to fall in love with your ridiculously big heart and shag your clever little brains out. Let’s think: you’re dead clever and dead sexy. You know how to have a good time but can also enjoy a lazy day in. You’re a devoted dad and are eager to bring someone else into your tight-knit family unit. You’re looking for friendship and companionship with your romance.”

James hurriedly typed out all of Jack’s suggestions as he said them until they were hindered by the character count limit. They then spent time tweaking the phrasing and descriptions of the main aspects of James’s personality so that all of his strengths were put on clear display in a neat, concise bio.

“Oh bugger, I don’t have any photos of myself,” James muttered when he moved forward in his profile creation. “My phone is full of Alex, or she’s in all the photos with me.”

“That’s fine, as long as your face is there too. And not half out of frame.”

“No, I just… I don’t want my nine-year-old daughter’s face on an app meant for adults to find companionship in every definition of the word. What if some creep sees her and takes an interest and hacks my account and finds her and…”

James knew he was spiraling into an anxiety attack about something that had such a microscopic chance of happening, but he couldn’t help but think of one of his students last year, who had gone through the tribulations of a criminal trial because she’d been sexually abused by someone in her neighborhood.

“James, breathe,” Jack instructed, his voice firm but kind. “Let me send you some photos. Take a look, and see if you’re comfortable with them. Grab a glass of wine or something in the meantime.”

James did indeed pour himself a healthy measure of wine as he waited for whatever Jack was coming up with. To assuage his still-racing heart, James shuffled down the hall and poked his head into Alex’s room. She was safely in her bed, her blankets pulled up to her chin, her breathing deep and slow. His muscles unclenched, and he felt like he could breathe easily again.

“You still there?” Jack’s voice was faint from the living room, and James hurried back.

“Yeah, I’m here. What did you do?”

“Take a look. I texted you something.”

James set his wine on the coffee table and picked up his phone to look at his messages. Jack had sent him six photos. Alex was in four of them, and in each of those, he’d covered her face with a cartoonish image of a smiling orange flower in sunglasses.

“I didn’t even think of doing that,” James said sheepishly.

“I figured. Does that help?”

“Yeah. Loads. Thanks, Jack.”

James uploaded the photos, and hovered with his thumb overtop the publish profile button. “Do you… do you really think this will work?”

“I think it will work if you want it to work,” Jack answered. “Relationships take time and effort. You may find a few bad eggs along the way, but when you find some good ones, you need to make the effort to get to know them. This isn’t a magical fix. It’s just a way to stream-line conversation.”

James nodded. “Yeah. I’ll keep that in mind. Well. Here it goes.”

He held his breath, and pressed the button. The screen faded a little for a few seconds, before brightening back up with his new, shiny dating profile. Along with it, the app began showing him a rotating pool of potential matches for him. However, his brain was fried and he didn’t think he had the energy to read anyone else’s profile tonight. He closed the app and set his phone on his chest as he once again slouched into his couch.

He was about to work on ending the conversation with Jack when his friend asked, “If you don’t mind, why the sudden urge to start dating?”

James sighed. “I think I’m having a mid-life crisis.”

“You’re not middle-aged, so it’s more of a third-life crisis, but go on.”

James told Jack about Alex’s behavior at bedtime, and how upset she was that she didn’t have siblings, which led to him reevaluating what he wanted from life.

“I’m lonely,” he said at the end of his explanation. “I love my daughter with every fiber of my being, but…”

“But it’s not the same as having adult companionship,” Jack finished gently. “I get it. It’s okay, you know. You can be content with your life on the whole, but still wish for more.”

“It’s hard for me to acknowledge that without it feeling like I’m somehow displeased with Alex. Or I feel guilty because I’m admitting she’s not enough, when she is. Or I feel like I shouldn’t complain about my lot in life because I have the most perfect daughter in the world.”

“Well, you’re a bit biased on that assessment,” Jack teased. “But she is rather great, isn’t she?”

“The best,” James agreed. Then he let out a huge yawn. “Blimey, we’ve been chatting for an hour and a half. I should get to bed.”

“Yeah, me too. Give my love to Alex. When can Yan and I see her next? Wanna come over for dinner on Friday to celebrate the first week of school?”

“That sounds great. Thanks. We’ll bring dessert, as usual.”

“Perfect. See you then. Goodnight.”

James ended the call, then chugged the last of the wine in his glass before shuffling off to bed. When he stepped into his bedroom, though, a surprise waited for him: Alex was tucked under the blankets, and K9 was sprawled on the floor beside her.

Odd—he hadn’t heard her leave her room, and he’d just checked on her a half hour ago. James approached his daughter and pressed the backs of his fingers to her forehead, fearing an illness had drawn her to the comfort of his room. But her skin wasn’t any warmer than it ought to be.

She stirred at his touch, her eyelids lazily fluttering open. She blinked blearily, her gaze unfocused.

“Hiya, darling,” he whispered, kneeling in front of her. “You feel okay?”

“Marchin’ in the fields,” Alex slurred. “Keep up.”

James suppressed a chuckle as her eyes slid closed again. He stroked her hair away from her face, concluding that nothing more than sleepwalking—a habit she’d had since toddlerhood and was ever-so-slowly growing out of—had brought her to his bed. James left her where she was; she’d mosey back to her room if she wanted to.

Silently, he changed into pajamas, washed his face, and brushed his teeth before climbing into bed. Alex remained dead asleep, curled on her side facing away from him. His heart clenched with a flood of affection, and he leaned over to kiss the back of her head.

“Good night, sweetheart. Daddy loves you.”

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #tenth doctor #rose tyler #ten x rose au #doctor who au #family fic #kid fic #my fic #what makes a family

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