#that was gift enough right there lets goooo

[weekend-whip]

Happy White Day people!! My designation for the @ninjago-valentine-exchange comes in the form of a Kailor piece as a response to the work of @kristoffs-lullaby!!! It was an honor <3

Words: 9.7k (don’t look at me it’s fine it’s fine) Pairing: Kailor (with a teeny dash of some Smith Sibs in there) Summary: Skylor wants to go on a "real" date with Kai. Kai is totally down for this...but, he doesn't know where to start, and he's also terrified for how it will end.

[unluckywisher]

Re-reading Chapter 3, thoughts:

I still love how Xavier cuts our mask off. Swish.

Man, I really forgot just how many cutscenes there are in the main story - which means - my phone is gonna blow up with the sheer amount of screenshots I'm gonna take of Sylus.

I feel like we don't give MC enough credit. Her Evol is really powerful.

So "they're" trying to resurrect Wanderers... To create chaos?

ONYCHINUS MENTIONED LETS GOOOO EVIL CORP

CROW FRIEND YES HI :D YOU DA BEST <3

MC is so real for having nightmares about her trauma and only finding them mildly annoying. Same, queen.

MC mentioning that she wants to ride a 310HM instead of her 270HM, right as she's thinking about Ony... Mark my words Sylus is gonna let her ride it. (Excuse the double entendre <3)

SHE REALLY SAID "BEG ME" FHDSJFGSHJ MC PLS

NOT MC SAYING "What's next? A terrorist attack? Is this building gonna blow up?" BESTIE NO YOU JINXED IT

*Talking about a protocore* "It's a gift from Onychinus" Okay so let me cherish it forever then?

SYLUS FIRST MENTION LETS GOOOOOOOOOO

"Mission Completion Efficiency: Xavier, 0,7%" XAV PLS LMAO

[hairstevington]

Hi! I would love to see the 1st Valentine’s Day prompt(a bouquet of their favourite flowers) for steddie! Specifically Eddie bringing Steve flowers(idk why but I’m a firm believer that Steve secretly loves getting gifted flowers lol!). If you do do this thank you so much!! <3333

Ahhhhhh yes LET’S GOOOO!!! Thanks for the request! (Ao3 link here!)

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: Some reeeeal fluffy shit, Eddie secretly pining over his best friend Steve, gay scheming, romance

A/N: This ended up being a bit more than just flowers, but hopefully it suffices! If anyone else is interested here is the prompt post, I also took inspiration from this cute lil post by @grandwretch :)

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Eddie always teased Steve about his romantic conquests. They frequently discussed best practices for him to woo women - including knowing their favorite color, their birthday, their favorite movie, etc. Eddie watched Steve date beautiful woman after beautiful woman, always putting in so much effort and getting so little back.

That's probably why Eddie started doing it.

"Should I get her the blue bracelet or the green one?" Steve would ask.

"I dunno man, what's her favorite color?"

"Blue. But her eyes are green."

"Get the blue. The two colors look good together anyway," Eddie answered as if he was somehow the person to ask about such things. He'd never really dated anyone, but he'd seen a lot of movies, and watched a lot of high school couples date each other.

"Thanks," Steve would say. He was always appreciative for the second opinion, even though the opinion was based on nothing.

"No problem," Eddie smiled. "Hey, what's your favorite color?"

Any time Steve asked for advice, Eddie would eventually turn it back on Steve. It was all part of his master plan, you see - he wanted to make Steve feel special on Valentine's Day. Not in a gay way, he told himself. Steve's my friend, it's not like that.

He tried to convince himself he was doing it platonically, or because it would be funny to see Steve all flustered, but deep down Eddie knew that it was far more than that.

But him and Steve were friends, and that's all they'd ever be, and he'd accepted that.

A week before Valentine's Day, there was a package on Steve's doorstep addressed to him. He wasn't expecting any mail, and the box was so haphazardly wrapped it was almost scary. Like, he was pretty sure he'd seen this exact set-up in a horror movie. Main character gets mysterious package that ends up ruining their life.

(It didn't end up ruining his life, but it sure as hell changed it)

Inside the box was a teddy bear - one of those real cutesie ones you find at a giftshop this time of year. Steve was confused, and wondered if it was even delivered to the right place - sure enough, there was a handwritten note that confirmed it. I call him Steve Bearington, it read. Steve smiled, but still had no idea who it was from. The girl that he'd gone on a few dates with could never have been responsible for the disastrous way the gift was wrapped. He shrugged. It must have been a secret admirer - he got those sometimes.

He told Eddie about it the next day, and Eddie pretended to act surprised. He didn't want to give his secret away, especially when he went so far as to ask some random person to write out the stupid note so that Steve wouldn't recognize his handwriting. He probably should have asked them to wrap it, too, but whatever. Steve was so happy about it, so Eddie continued with his plan.

Eddie learned that Steve liked sour candy over chocolate, so he got him some. Then he wrote him a poem - it wasn't, like, the greatest thing ever written, but Eddie did tend to have a way with words. He delivered the candy two days before Valentine's Day, and on the eve of the holiday he had one of his other friends discreetly stick the poem on Steve's front door and ding-dong-ditch while he and Eddie were hanging out, just to throw him off his game even more.

"Oh my god, they did it again," Steve said when he picked the poem from the door. "Who is this person?" Eddie appreciated that he said person, instead of woman.

"What does it say?" Eddie asked, biting his lip to keep from grinning. He watched as Steve read it to himself first, his brow furrowing.

"It's, uh," he said, folding it nicely and putting it in his pocket. "It's good."

Hell yeah it is, Eddie thought to himself.

Steve had a date on Valentine's Day - Eddie knew this, and it was to be expected anyway, since Steve almost always had a date on most days. He was leaving at 7, so Eddie showed up at 6.

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

Steve didn't have much more to do to get ready for the date - he was already having a good hair day, and he'd picked out an outfit that had done him well in the past. He just was still caught up on who wrote him that poem.

Nobody had written him a poem before, like ever. Steve hadn't ever attempted to write one for anyone else. He wasn't that good at analyzing them in English class, so he'd grown a bit tired of poetry as a whole.

But the one left on his front door sparked a new appreciation for it.

He was confused when the doorbell rang, because he wasn't expecting anybody. Then, he wondered if maybe, he'd find another poem out there.

Instead, he found Eddie. Well, actually, he found a person standing there with flowers covering their face, but the mane of curly brown hair surrounding the flowers gave him away.

They were daisies. Eddie was probably the only person in the world that knew Steve liked daisies, and it wasn't even something he'd explicitly said. He just knew he was drawn to them when he saw them, and he'd pointed them out a few times while he was with Eddie.

"Special Valentine's delivery for Harrington!" Eddie announced, letting himself in. Steve watched as he set them on the table, confident as always, a bright smile on his face. But Steve was mostly just confused.

"What...the hell?" Eddie's bravado faltered just a little bit.

"Hasn't anyone ever gotten you flowers before?" Eddie asked.

"No, but I've bought a lot of flowers before, and -"

"Tsk tsk tsk," Eddie interrupted. "My point exactly. You deserve flowers too, Steve."

"God, what's with all the gifts from people this week?" Steve whined, completely overwhelmed. "Between this and the secret admirer thing, I just -"

Steve's head was spinning, and he wasn't the most observant person, but he did have enough sense to notice the way Eddie winced at the mention of the secret admirer.

"Yeah, well," Eddie said, his tone softer than before. "Like I said, you deserve it."

There was a thick silence as Steve realized what was happening.

"Eddie..." he said, putting it all together. Eddie was the only one who would have known to get him any of that stuff. Steve openly told Eddie all kinds of things he never admitted to anyone else, because he didn't think Eddie was paying attention. He certainly didn't think Eddie had been filing it away to do this.

"I hope you have a good date tonight," Eddie said, suddenly feeling quite stupid about this whole thing. He turned to leave, but Steve stopped him.

"The poem - you wrote it?" Eddie nodded.

Steve thought about straight-up reciting it to Eddie in that moment, to prove to him just how much he liked it. He'd read it so many times it was burned into his brain, just as he wanted it to be.

Huh.

He wasn't expecting this from his best friend, but he was shocked at how weird it didn't feel. Finding out Eddie had been his secret admirer just made sense.

"Doesn't have to be a big deal," Eddie mumbled. "I just - I don't want this to - Like, I'm sorry if -"

"I gotta go cancel my plans with Deb," Steve said.

"What?"

"She'll live. Besides, it wouldn't be that cool of me to go out with someone when I'm thinking about someone else."

"What?" Eddie repeated. He really didn't expect to get this far. "What are you saying?"

Steve smiled - his brilliant, trademark smile that always made Eddie feel warm inside.

"Do you wanna be my Valentine, Munson?"

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

[chaostified]

A little something for you guys with Ink and Killer being dorks:

I adore them so much and yes, they are siblings (technically step-siblings but you don't need to know that) in this garbage so yippee.

1075 words of yummy idiotism.

Now indulge.

The sound of his alarm clock broke him out of his deep sleep. He groaned loudly, he should have gone to bed earlier last night. He picked up his phone and turned off the alarm, the brightness of his screen burned his eyes in the gloomy room. His curtains had stopped much light from entering.

He heard a soft knock on his bedroom door.

"Come in." He said, stretching in bed. His voice sounded hoarse.

The door opened, and the sharp light of the room outside rushed in, making the visitor look like a dark shadow. He was completely aware of who it was though.

"Morning Killer." They said stepping into the room and leaving the door behind them open.

"Mh, morning." Killer hid his face in his pillow, his words sounded muffled but they were able to figure out what he had said.

"Did you stay up late again?" They walked up to their half-asleep sibling.

"Noooo, I'm just tired." Killer turned to his side and looked at them. They simply raised a brow, staring back at him. "Ok fine, I stayed up late." Killer gave in. They let out a disappointed sigh.

"I told you to go to bed early last night, you never listen to me." They grabbed Killer's skull, slightly shaking him.

"You're so meannnn, I just couldn't sleep." He removed their hand on his head, pulling it as a little child would. The other simply outheld their other hand towards the desk, covered in snacks that Killer had stolen in the kitchen. He simply smiled, trying to avoid the wrath of his older sibling.

"Killer." Their voice was very stern, Killer was in big trouble. 

"Inkkkk." He pulled on their hand again.

"You little shit get the fuck up." Ink grabbed his cheeks, ready to punch his face in.

"Noooo, school sucks, I don't wanna goooo." He whined and begged but to no avail.

"Isn't Nightmare going to pick you up today?" Ink teased, making Killer jump out of bed.

"Shit, you're right!" He awkwardly ran towards his closet, searching through a bunch of clothing to find something fitting. Ink simply stared in awe, laughing to themself.

"I'll be downstairs." They walked over to the door but were stopped by Killer.

"Are mum and mama home?" Killer asked. "I need their help with choosing an outfit."

"They're both at work, and I'm literally right here?" They said, leaning on the door. The last part of the sentence sounded like they were offended.

"You'd be of no help, I know that you'll give me the worst advice just to piss me off." Killer turned towards Ink, pulling out a middle finger.

"Bitch." Ink sounded even more offended now. Killer grinned, turning back to the closet and shuffling through clothes.

"Wear the necklace he gifted you." Ink crossed his arms, leaning their head to peek into the closet more.

"I will," Killer said as he pulled out a short jacket. "Do you think this will look good with the fancy shirt I own?" 

"Black on black? You'll look like an emo." Ink sneered. "You and Nightmare are actually soulmates."

"Ink you bastard just tell me if it will look good." Killer hit Ink on the head with a hanger.

"Yeah, yeah, it will look good, don't worry about it." Killer didn't seem convinced enough. "I'm serious." Ink raised their hands to eye level.

"Thanks, loser." Killer snickered.

"No problem, dimwit." Ink slapped Killer on the back of the head.

"Oh, motherfucker!" Killer hit Ink with a hanger again.

"Ok stop, hangers hurt." Ink shielded themself.

"Getting slapped on the back of the head also hurts." Killer softly kicked Ink's leg.

"Do I look like I care?" Ink said, grabbing Killer's hand that was threatening to hit them.

"Pretend like you do please." Killer playfully punched Ink's chest.

"No, I don't think I will." Ink sneered. "In fact, I'll be even more mean and tell our parents that you're skipping class." Killer stared at them, he didn't expect them to know. He was about to ask how but Ink swiftly cut him off. "Nightmare told Error, Error told me." Killer grunted, there goes his date with Nightmare. "I won't tell on you, you absolute moron." Killer eyes lit up, he was saved by Ink's merciful personality, though he wouldn't call it that. "Just be back by the time your classes end and we're clear ok?" He nodded his head and embraced Ink.

"Thank you, I owe you one." Killer giggled.

"Stop acting like a big baby." Ink hugged him with one arm.

"I'm younger than you, save me some slack."

"By a year Killer, and at your age, I was mature enough to go inside a shop and buy alcohol without having them check for an ID." Ink hit on his head, trying to knock some sense into him.

"Wait, you brought alcohol? Dude, you were only 16!" Killer looked at them judgingly.

"I believe in the fact that American rules shouldn't apply to Europeans."

"Being European is not an excuse, you alcoholic." Ink grimaced at the statement.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Make me."

"I'll punch you."

"I'll fight you."

"I hate you so much."

"You adore me."

"I do not, you're the biggest fucking idiot I have ever met."

"You call Error the worst things imaginable and yet you're dating him." Killer shrugged. "Calling people names is your love language at this point." 

"Mine and Error's relationship is none of your business." Ink poked at him.

"Not prying in, just stating facts."

"The fact that I hate that man with my entire being?" Ink scowled.

"Dude, why are you even dating him then?" Killer raised a brow, chuckling to himself.

"Free opening to strike him whenever I want and he won't expect it." Ink smirked. "Also I take pity on such a shallow and egoistic man." Their smirk just got wider.

"Says the guy with a god complex." Killer rolled his eyes, leaning on the closet door.

"Touché." Ink pulled his arms up in defeat. "Also you'll be late if you don't get ready now." Ink pointed at him, reminding him that he was still in his pyjamas and had yet to change his clothes.

"Right, shoo out of my room now, peasant." Killer fanned at Ink with his hand, motioning towards the door.

"As you wish Mr trash prince." Ink pranced out of the room dramatically, making Killer groan in frustration.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Let’s fuckin goooo. Hit me with some. Let us ✨discuss✨ lmao.

mattys gf first ever valentine’s day with a girl. who never had a boyfriend during valentine’s day, and he’s so sweet to her.

Okay so that was literally the exact plot of the thing I wrote for Matty and Amelia’s first valentines hahaha. Which you can read here. I did that cuz, I’m not sure if anyone remembers, but in “Education” she tells Matty that she’s kind of inexperienced because she’s only ever had 2 boyfriends and one of them wasn’t actually all that serious. Which is why she wants him to “teach her” and that kicks off the plot of that series, right? So I imagine when it comes to Valentine’s Day, she doesn’t have that much of a reference / she just happened to never be in a real relationship around the that time in February. Which is why I wrote their first valentines that way.

BUT, even if it wasn’t for an original character like Amelia, I still think Matty would be all over it. Like he would take it seriously wanting it to be super special and memorable and the biggest deal ever. And he would def ask all his friends (kinda like I had him do for Amelia) but nothing is ever good enough. And he ends up stressing himself out too much over the tiniest little details. He’d definitely do, like, the flowers and chocolate thing because “every girl should get to experience this side of Valentine’s Day.” But he would still definitely get her like a meaningful gift that is either a running joke between them, or something he knows has sentimental value to her.

[bisexualdorkmess]

Writer Ric from Sandman is weak shit like dude. If I was "gifted" a muse like my life would be DEVOTED to worshipping her.

Like, Calliope my beloved, beauty beyond the stars. Give me 24 hours to cater to your whims, take you out on the town.

I want to take her to butterfly gardens and coffee shops, hang on her every word. Take her to a planetarium, aquarium, museum, anywhere she wants to go. Give her her freedom at the end of the day and beg for her blessings. Make an altar to her and leave offerings, fresh flowers, fine wine, poetry about her. Pray to her and know that you did everything you did to curry favor, take inspiration in writing from the devotion to her.

Like, dude doesn't even TRY. He just locks her upstairs and sits down to write like. Hmm gee what to write. Like all the literary places you could go just from "there is a muse locked in my bedroom and I don't know what to do". Like my guy there Is SO MUCH to emotionally unpack right there. So many places you can go and ideas to explore from just that, but nah.

Like, ACTUALLY fucking woo her dude don't just buy her stuff and complain. She's literally a fucking GODDESS just be inspired by her mere presence. Weak ass man can't even be bothered to spend time with her like my guy, you are not doing yourself any favors at all.

Like he feels so guilty and weird about having a woman trapped in his house against her will like??? You know how to fix that? Be nice to her and let her goooo. Just going through that situation should be enough to give you boatloads of inspiration.

[osamustar]

Could you do Michael with a trans female reader?

okay so i’m a cis woman with some basic knowledge on trans shit so i’m gonna try my best here. i would make it longer if i understood how it felt to be trans, but i don’t, so i apologize. power to all of you out there making it through, you’re strong as fuck, keep doing what you’re doing. if i happen to offend anyone with this i apologize again, i don’t know what’s too far honestly.

WOOOOOO I MANAGED TO GET SOMETHING OUT OTHER THAN SERIES LETS GOOOO ENJOY!!! more coming soon (hopefully)

Michael with a Trans Female Reader

No trigger warnings provided

Slight sexual content

Doesn’t understand why you’re telling him your trans. What does that even mean?

Acts like he’s totally supportive, which he is, even though he has no clue what being transgender means.

Has killed multiple people for talking shit about you being trans. Again, what the fuck does that even mean? Whatever, they hurt your feelings and deserved to die.

Finally begins to understand what being transgender means when the two of you get more intimate.

He feels pretty uncomfortable at first, but eases himself into it.

You’ll get upset, thinking he wants someone else. Feeling like you aren’t enough, and you’re making him uncomfortable with the situation.

Of course he’s uncomfortable he’s from the 70’s. It’s all quite a shock to him, but for you he’ll learn.

Listens to everything you have to say. Whether it’s about your body dysmorphia, or new trans rights news. He’s supportive through it all.

He tries his best to appreciate you as much as possible so you don’t think he doesn’t want you. He hates that you think that, and sometimes gets close to killing you for even having the thought in your mind.

He wants you and only you. After all you’re the only one who actually tolerates his shit. You understand him, and probably the only one who actually loves him.

Constantly touching your body. His way of saying that you’re beautiful.

When body dysmorphia gets you at your worst he comforts you by bringing you little gifts from his killings, and worshipping your body.

He loves you for you in the end.

[byulsgrease]

to hold ⋆ I promise you

previous || masterlist || next

(~1.2k words, no cw's that I can think of)

"C'mon, let's goooo," she whined. "Why do you always have your nose stuck in a book? We only get 20 minutes for recess, ya know."

Not my fault that Lemony Snicket had little kid me on the hook... for 13 books straight. But Byul, always antsy, begged like an eager puppy. This time was no different. She pried each individual finger off the pages to death grip my hand in hers, nearly yanking my arm off to lead me out of the classroom and out to the playground. Maybe the fresh air wasn't so bad. But I think she could still stand to read a book once in a while.

She did that a lot, now that I think about it. Dragging me somewhere by the arm, holding my hand. It's been a while, though.

☆*:.｡.★.｡.:*☆

From middle school onward, we'd retake the love languages quiz when bored. Or the enneagram. Or the MBTI. And if we were daring or needed a laugh, the rice purity test. It must've been a love languages day. Of course the simplicity of love languages made for small number of possible outcomes, and having been around each other for so long probably made retaking it a bit pointless. But what else would we have done, studied? Hah.

We probably laid side-by-side on the floor of our college dorm while hanging onto our phones for dear life above our heads, the biggest goal always to prevent the pain of dropping them on our faces, but it usually happened anyway.

"Did the questions change? I swear it's a little bit different every time."

"I think you just forget what the questions are every time," she responded in her typical teasing nonchalance.

"I suppose we always retake these once we've forgotten what our results are."

"But we know each other's love languages by memory. And our own."

"Yeah, but the percentages could change. You done?"

As a kid, my mom made me take the quiz. Maybe she tried to peer into my psyche or something, but I got gifts as my primary. I still don't understand if "gifts" means receiving or giving, because I'm an absolutely terrible gift-giver. But receiving always seemed materialistic. I know now that it's the "this gift made me think of you" sentiment, but still. Not a truth to be particularly proud of. The other languages always seemed more noble, or at least deserving.

"Yep. Same as always, physical touch followed by quality time."

"Oh shit, 3-way tie between gifts, words of affirmation, and quality time," flipping the results screen towards her. I guess this is why I remember. She let out a surprised hum.

"That's new."

"Do you remember the last time we took this?"

"Absolutely no idea. But hey, this means you're ~changing~," she emphasized with a chuckle.

"College has certainly changed us," I pointedly agreed.

"Mm, yeah." Her lips pursed in thought.

Whether we thought about the same changes or not, I had no clue. Sure, we changed as individuals, but I think our relationship changed in early adulthood too, the "us". I guess that's just what came with growing up. We weren't (and aren't) kids anymore.

☆*:.｡.★.｡.:*☆

I have no clue what possessed her to ask.

"Hey, can you hold me?"

"You're really that touch starved, huh?" It's not my primary love language. She blushed, skin's usual paleness subsumed by an absolute pink.

"I dunno! I just thought I'd ask..." Her hand came up behind her neck sheepishly, fingers toying with the hair at the base of her skull. I laughed. Big part of our relationship, laughing— with and at each other —all the time.

Opened up my arms and waved her over to the couch anyway, not like we had anything better to do. She slipped in, pressing her back into my chest. Unsure of proper hand placement, I rested one on her hip. Her fingers immediately clasped around my wrist with conviction and brought my arm down around her front in an actual spooning position, hand now in front of her other hip. The scent of her cologne she always insisted on wearing remains unforgettable. She’s changed it several times over the years but always seems to return to this one. Heck, she’s probably wearing it today.

"So what's this for, exactly?" I asked, head lifted and turned down to peer at the side of her face. She paused before answering, probably trying to figure out how much she wanted to divulge.

"I'm just stressed, school and all," she sighed, absentmindedly tracing lines on my sleeve with one hand and supporting her head with the other. Figured it was best to not press in much further— she's not the most forthcoming but I'd known from past squabbles that she'd only tell me as much as she needed to. "You know what I actually want? Someone to tell me that it's gonna be alright. I feel like being an adult just gets harder as time goes on— what's the point," she huffed existentially. "I just wanna be a kid again, where I didn't have to care about anything."

"You really wanna go back to when we were kids?" She had to be kidding, right? Did she not remember the incident?

"Yeah, like back when my biggest problems were things like getting you to play outside with me or explaining away to my mom where all the ramyun went," she said with a half-smirk and slight shake of her shoulders, reminiscing. I stay silent and let her enjoy the re-lived memories, if I brought up the obvious the conversation would've probably taken a turn for the worse.

"Okay, well," laying back down to rest my chin on her shoulder, "I'm here to tell you that everything will be fine. We're working hard, it'll turn out." Hopefully it came out confident and assured— I had no idea what the hell I was doing back then either. She blushed again and shrank further into herself (and my arms, by proxy), turning her head away from mine to bury her cheek into the couch. "Aww, Moonstar getting flustered?" I teased, squeezing her tighter as the heat radiated off her face. I paused and said more seriously, "You work way too hard taking care of everyone else. It's okay to want the same for yourself and ask for it, even if I poke fun."

That might’ve been the first time I kissed her— on the cheek, at least. I had no idea what possessed me to do that. Guess I just wanted to hit the point home?

Before this, I had no clue I could have that kind of effect on someone. Making friends came pretty easy to me, but Byul instantaneously charmed the pants off nearly anyone she met. I'd say both of us weren't really the type to date around, though. Even casual crushes seemed pretty rare— or at least based on the ones we deemed important enough to talk about with each other.

But yeah, she got all flustered too, stammering and stumbling over her words, which I found endearing (next to funny). I just shushed her and squeezed her tighter, resting my cheek against hers as they shared the mutual burn. It’s not like I had the words either. Still don't.

Not to say that our relationship remained strictly platonic, it certainly didn't. At least not back then.

[tay6119]

Beach Episode BEACH EPISODE

ALRIGHT, it is time.

Finally off work and I have my snacks and way too much energy so here’s your tales of the SMP recap even thought I’m probably the last person to watch it at this point.

I hope it’s better than the last one :,)

I’m sorry this is so so long, I couldn’t help myself...

- Just wanna start by saying Karl is a real one for putting these together and putting in so much work. Great way to include less lore affiliated people

- I LOVE THEIR SKINS THEY’RE REALLY CUTE ESPECIALLY BBH

- Sapnap’s skin went from cute to like lowkey hot

- d r e a m’s skin... at least he dressed up this time

- Gog being sad to get those pity points as usual /lh

- “we’re supposed to be having fun Dream leave me alone” “I am having fun”

- basically a manhunt, but it’s off brand

- KARL’S SKIN IS SO CUTE OMG

- “wHaT cOuLd iT PoSsIbLy mEaN” more great acting from Dream

- all of them saying woah at once was really cute to me idk why-

- Dream just wants to kill everyone, staying on brand for C!Dream

- treasure hunt treasure hunt treasure hunt

- Anti-Gogy propaganda

- Karl really thought they would all work together no questions asked

- These are always so chaotic but i love it sm, nice break from everything in regular lore

- “now that George is gone”

- “I always hate you Dream”

- “George and Dream stop fighting”

- Karl is trying so hard to continue the story but everyone is just-

- “from the top you’re going to make it drop” “why does that sound familiar” BBH PLEASE

- George and dream can’t leave each other alone oml

- “there’s a prize for people rping” “what if my character is a serial killer” DREAM PLEASE

- They all fell to their deaths trying to jump off the lighthouse and into the water

- “get maximum... air”

- GEORGE that’s a volleyball

- Ranboo just straight up being drowned out by everyone else :,)

- “Ranboo read it” KARL U READ MY MIND EVEN THO IM WATCHING THIS ACTOR THE FACT

- Ranboo getting into it and like lowkey doing a voice

- “dream we’re walking together” George sounds so whiny lmfao /lh

- SAPNAP’S PIRATE VOICE

- BAD’S PIRATE VOICE

- Manifesting a gogy pirate voice even tho it won’t happen

- Dream leaving the area halfway through bad leaving shows his speedrun genes

- Chat participation :00

- THE TWITCH PRIME PROMO

- “none, we get zero” DREAM PLEASE

- “Ranboo do you think they love you enough” “no” RANBOO HAD NO HESITATION

- “It says, Sapnap is a nimrod” GEORGE PLEASE

- ALSO GEORGE’S PIRATE VOICE LETS GOOOOO

- Ranboo coming in clutch

- “Why is Dream killing everyone” “I’m not killing everyone” yeah George, he’s just killing you

- My two favs George and Ranboo boating away together <33

- I braved chat and someone said “GO MEMORY BOY GO”

- Now every time George fake cries/goes all sad boi I can’t stop thinking about Dream saying he does it to get pity and it always works lmfao

- “log off if you’re not up for it” Dream, George, and Sapnap all leave guys dteam ship is canon now 

- Bad dies in lava “don’t worry I saved the book”

- George being all giggly and not paying attention while him and Dream fight ahh I’m soft

- Dream in a boat what will he do

- Dream is muted and didn’t realize

- George yells for Dream to come back to take him with ahhhhhh

- Sapnap screaming “arggggg”

- “did he fail rp??”

- “Oh my arggg”

- “me and dream, me and dream are gonna win”

- “Dream and George forever for a hundred years” GOG I CANT TAKE IT STOP

- Chat spamming DNF omg

- “Dream woke up and chose violence”

- Dream tries to kill George and then Sapnap hits him and Dream dies instead

- “ALL MY BOATS”

- KARL COVERED THE CHEST WITH SAND

- Sapnap and Ranboo duo is something we needed

- SAPNAP AND RANBOO HAVE ME SCREAMING THEYRE EVERYTHING

- “you know saying muffinhead really throws off the pirate vibe yee got going”

- Gogy gets all hype cause he find it and makes happy noises I LOVE HIM

- George is an attention whore /lh

- George becomes scottish

- “when we get back to the mainland we kill George” surprising not Dream, but BBH

- George has less of a sense of direction than I do,,, and that’s saying a lot

- Ranboo woke up and chose violence

- Dream why u so obsessed with Gog

- Sapnap and Ranboo continue to be iconic

- Dream stop speedrunning this is rp

- Audience chooses who wins lmfaooo if Ranboo doesn’t win I’ll be so upset, him or Sapnap, but RANBOO

- “it would be really funny if I won” SHUT UP DREAM

- SAPNAP CALLED RANBOO HIS PARTNER IN CRIME LET’S GOOOO

- george and dream using console to kill each other

- DREAM SOUNDS SO WHIPPED WHEN HE SAYS “George I’ll give you one more chance”

- George mimicking Dream ujhytgrfed

- THEY REALLY STOLE THE THING AS SOON AS KARL LEFT

- CORINNA GIFTED SUBS BRUH

- Dream you don’t have the right to be calling anyone a simp

- “how many subs for a whitelist” RANBOO PLEASE

- “you cannot stab my partner with yee fist”

- “I am duck beard”

- RANBOO WON WITH 73% LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOO

- “piggy mcpiggy foot” GEORGE PLEASE

- “everybody’s less violent now” yeah ok

- KARLNAP KISS

- RANBOO GETS 50 GIFTED SUBS WOOOOO, HE ALSO GETS THE SWORD WOOOOO it’s hella op lmao, 

- 20 subs for everyone there, i love u Karl u are blessed

- “he has the sword don’t kill him RUN”

- Ranboo is literally the best i love him T_T

- Ranboo gets banned LMFAO “reason: oof”

if you actually read that all... wow

[that--unusual-person]

How do you think the pillar men would react to a s/o with powers similar to Wanda Maximoff? Telekinesis, Telepathy, mind manipulation all that stuff. (Only difference is the color of the abilities. Like blue or something) Maybe s/o doesn’t fully know what all they’re capable to do, so sometimes they can accidentally knock the pillar men over or accidentally breaks things if they get too overwhelmed. Sorry this is long 🥺

The more the merrier.  Aaaanywho-

Kars

- Unlike hamon, your inhuman abilities have impressed him but not surprise.

- He could feel strange energy radiating from you but kept quiet about it seeing as you are always so tense when the topic of your abilities arises.

- Kars knows how to handle difficult situations where you lose control of your abilities.  In fact, he goes as far as to care enough to teach you how to hone your abilities.

- Intriguing and unnatural for a human to possess such power, Kars can’t help but feel you can dominate over him without a second thought if you so please, he is almost envious of your power.

- But he decides not to make sure you are under him knowing well you can’t control them 100%.

- Being the curious cat he is(yes, car Kars or… kat Kars, is now an ongoing joke here), he wants to learn more from you keeping you around and studying you in secret.  Perhaps one day he too could harness the same power you possess. (dream on big boy, dream on)

Esidisi

- It all happened so quickly even Esidisi had a hard time processing what happened.

- As quick as it all when down he was flung across the room onto the couch with such a force he backflipped taking the couch with him.

- He must’ve taken his jokes too far when you tried hiding your telekinetic power to have you unleash such a blow at him.

- When he got up he would see how scared and shaken you were about your actions.  He understood they were unintentional and rooted in an outburst of uncontrolled emotions.

- You want his as far away as possible so you can’t do any more damage, but before you could go something wraps around you and brings you to Esidisi in an instant.

- As you try to break free Esidisi wraps his arms around you in a soft him, his body radiating calm warmth, his rough hands never felt so gentle as they caress your head while he whispers to you.

- He repeats over and over ‘you’re alright, im not hurt’ soothing you the best he could.  It’s strange seeing Esidisi so kind and gentle like this instead of his brash and childish attitude.  Only because he understands how one’s mental state and emotions are not something to be toyed with, and he is sorry he troubled you.

Wamuu

- Wamuu was all over the place when he found out your powers.

- From your telekinesis to mind-controlling, he wanted to train you to harness your powers, boasting how these gifts would turn you into a great warrior.

- Though, he couldn’t help himself wondering how the powers work and what they feel like.

- He’s firing questions at you left and right trying to calculate how such abilities should be used.

- Practicing your telekinesis on small objects to lifting Wamuu was a struggle, but once you got your powers in your grasp, all the praise he has instore for you is gifted for your success.

- At one point, mind-controlling became a difficult trial.

- Since Wamuu offered to be your test subject, entering his mind was as hard as breaking stone with a stick you found on the sidewalk.  His mind was almost impossible to break into so the training would go on for hours leaving you exhausted.

- But, when Wamuu is vulnerable, such as sleeping or lost in the moment(aka you embarrass him, he loses his mind lol) you take full control over him and he is yours to obey.

- Wamuu doesn’t like being mind-controlled, saying it’s the weakest he’s ever felt, but when it’s you who is controlling him, he could care less if he’s powerless to you.

Santana

- He knows all about every power you have.

- When he witnessed you use it he snuck in behind you and inserted his fingers into your brain without your permission to learn about your strange abilities(like how he did with Speedwagon.  Santana should know when not to stick his fingers into other people).

- Now knowing, it’s confusing to him to see such a power aside from the normal hamon he’s used to.

- He doesn’t pick at your brain about your powers much, but when there are things he can’t stop thinking about, like what you could do with them and their purpose, he’s straight up asking you out of the blue.

- Sometimes you would use your powers on Santana, but only for a short moment since you haven’t undergone proper training on how to use them.

- And there are moments where you have to use your abilities to move Santana, which he hates, from spots he’s been in for days or somewhere he’s not supposed to be and places where he should be.

- But what spooked him was your telepathy.  He heard you so close to his ear as he whipped to find you next to him you were in the other room.

- You would joke with Santana using your telepathy to talk to him within his mind.  He didn’t like that he could hear you but not see you, so finding you would be his goal when he hears your voice(the game of hide and seek).

- And when he finds you, he gets close to you and whispers in your ear the same way you talk to him telepathically, ‘if you wish to speak to me, let’s talk face to face.’

“Hocus-pocus time babyy let’s goooo.” - Von

[shutupaboutandraste]

“  you  keep  using  that  word.  i  do  not  think  it  means  what  you  think  it  means.  ” for Adaar x Dorian? Welcome!

Excellent choice let’s goooo! I mention another Adaar Inquisitor in this little drabble and that’s because my Inquisitor is brother to my friends’ Inquisitor so I usually try to include them both ^u^

Words: 1565

Pairing: Dorian/Inquisitor Adaar

For @dadrunkwriting​ 

Tramping around Ferelden was hardly Asaara Adaar’s favorite activity. In fact, he would consider it one of his least favorite. The entire country seemed to be made of mud and mountains with nary a plain or decent stretch of flatland to be found. Weather in the Free Marches was far more predictable, more comfortable, far better than anything Ferelden had to offer. Yet, his distaste didn’t have anything on Dorian’s. ​

“Inconceivable!” Dorian hissed, for probably the fifth time since they had started their trek through the Hinterlands. Asaara rubbed his palm around The Mark, reminding himself that at least Dorian was easy to look at.  

Varric laughed, “Sparkler, believe you me, it’s conceivable.” 

“The King of Ferelden can’t be chosen by single combat,” argued Dorian, “That’s horrible politics. Hilarious, but horrible.” 

“It’s how they do it here, I swear!” promised the rogue, adjusting Bianca over his shoulder with a winning smile, “Hell, I think Hawke would have preferred that too. Not that they ever got the chance to become Viscount.” 

“Didn’t they kind of prove that by beating the Arishok?” asked Asaara, turning his head slightly to ask. It was always a way to check if their last companion was still around. Or, at least, if it was visible. When his teeth grit at noticing the very obvious lack of Cole, the spirit hybrid appeared at the side of his eye. Good. He was getting better at reminding them that he was there. 

Another deep rumble came from Varric, “I guess you’re right!” 

Dorian scoffed, but said nothing. Clearly, the ways of the South were too much for his delicate sensibilities. Asaara didn’t mind it--his mind wandered to his elder brother Arug, who would have reveled in such simplicity. In another life, the two might have been Arvaraad and Sarebaas, but Asaara liked to think their own style of mage and protector worked out just fine. Fine enough that Arug had felt comfortable staying back at Skyhold at any rate. 

Besides, it was hard to actually talk to Dorian when Arug hovered. Magic unsettled Arug on a good day, but Dorian seemed to do so in particular. And, whether Asaara liked to admit it or not there was something undeniably charming about the Tevinter altus. (Not magister, he had to remind himself, just the son of one.) 

To be fair, it could be hard to talk to Dorian in general. The man was proud, charismatic, and bold like a pristine sunset that reflected itself back in a lake. He talked quickly, usually in circles around other people, but not Asaara. He could hang on every word like gospel. It had begun with inquiries into the time magic that Dorian had studied. Devouring the information had been thrilling, but Asaara came out with plenty of notions. Notions such as the obvious understanding within Dorian’s eyes, but that his speech could twist the truth to get even the best to believe in his work. Or, perhaps, more worryingly, that Dorian’s eyes sparkled when he was excited. That his smile made Asaara’s heart twist ever so slightly. Asaara was rarely tongue-tied, but he had to focus on his words more when Dorian was around.

Still, it didn’t mean Asaara had endless patience. Dorian could be a vain, proud braggart who thought that he was the Maker’s gift to magic. Once one knew him better, that shed slightly, but he could still be pretentious. And, Asaara reminded himself constantly, Dorian was still of Tevinter while Asaara was a Vashoth Qunari. 

 The conversation moved, Cole whispering to himself. Asaara was glad of it-- Cole was muttering his thoughts again. His fingers gently tapped Cole’s wrist which got the other to stop, apologizing quietly. There were many people Asaara found easy to be angry at, but Cole wasn’t one of them. Where he could argue with Vivienne until they were both blue in the face or ignore Cassandra until she looked ready to hit him, Cole was just trying to help. Not berate him with opinions or Chantry nonsense. That didn’t always make what Cole had to say easy to hear. 

So, when Dorian exclaimed, “Inconceivable!” again over something very conceivable-- something about Ferelden fashion and shield maidens-- it was Cole who said Asaara’s thoughts out. 

“You keep using that word,” hummed Cole, “I do not think it means what you think it means.” 

“...Pardon me, Cole?” 

“The word,” Cole continued, “Not believable. It blocks the idea of possibility. An unending wall for the dream of something strange. You use it for things that have already happened that you simply don’t understand. But Adaar understands the difference.” 

“...So are these thoughts your’s or his?” asked Dorian, directing the question toward Cole but looking at Asaara. He grimaced. 

“They were his…” admitted Cole, “But I began to wonder, too.” 

Asaara shrugged, trying to offer Dorian a charismatic smirk, “He’s not wrong. You aren’t using that word correctly.” 

“Yes, I am. Varric--” Dorian’s face dropped as Varric gave him a sheepish smile. He huffed, “Alright then, I’ve been made a fool of. Let’s move along through this horrendously massive forest before a bear decides to go after The Inquisitor again.” 

His face twisted into a mockery of a pout. After knowing Dorian for some time now, it was easy to pick out expressions. This one was embarrassed, his eyes darting toward the trees to avoid looking at any of them, but with his chest puffed out like a peacock. Perhaps, Dorian was too easy to look at. Most people couldn’t watch someone as if they were an exotic animal, learn their habits, learn which lines of their face crinkled certain ways to show their feelings.

Two mages and two rogues were also probably not the best equipped to fight Ferelden wildlife, which made Dorian very right in that regard. Asaara admitted that after a long morning-- Cassandra bleating at him, Iron Bull’s hearty laughter starting to grate his ears mixed with Blackwall's preference for traveling with Sera who was her own jar of bees-- he had probably made a mistake in a hasty party. Not that he minded. Each of the three were the most pleasant of his company. Still, he didn’t want to have to fight more bears. 

They pressed on, hoping to reach one of the camps before nightfall while they looked for herbs for the healers. Once that was all collected and the farms checked on, they could be on their way. Still, a gentle silence hung over them. Fennecs raced by them as the headed upward through a mountain. What Asaara hadn’t expected was for Dorian to softly break the silence between them while Varric animatedly began discussing something with Cole. 

“You’re quite intelligent, Inquisitor,” he remarked. 

Asaara’s lips twitched as he forced himself not to scowl, “For a qunari, I know.” Bastard. It was always the pretty ones who ended up being bastards. 

“No, I mean.. Yes, but no!” Dorian realized his fumble as he began to search for words, “Kaffas. I mean in general. Most people aren’t as smart as you are.” 

Asaara rolled his eyes, “I think the members of the Inquisition each have a plethora of intelligence.”

“Do not bullshit me, Inquisitor,” huffed Dorian, “It doesn’t become you.” 

Asaara whipped his head to look at him, surprised, “Doesn’t… Then what does become me?” A curl of suggestiveness pulled at the side of his mouth turning into a bit of smugness. 

For a moment, he watched Dorian’s eyes soften. Edges rounded as a smile ticked up softly. Those two perfect lips pursed before a twisted, pleased smile of his own graced Dorian’s face. If the wind felt knocked out of Asaara by that soft sudden change of face, he did not let it show. He had become quite good at that over the years. It came with pretending not to be bothered that everyone thought you were just another stupid Qunari-- or that you were just another violent Vashoth. 

“That smile for one,” said Dorian, “I should like to see it more often. Perhaps over tea in the library once we get back.” 

Had he heard that right? Koslun’s balls, Maker’s ass, Andraste’s shitty mabari, and Fen’harel fucking take him he had. Perhaps his own eyes brightened. Perhaps, he gave a little too much away as his cheeks darkened up, unused to the kind of attention Dorian had just bestowed upon him. Perhaps, it was just enough to keep Dorian interested since his expression didn’t change. Asaara let out a breathy chuckle, keeping his voice even as he nodded at Dorian. 

“I look forward to it,” he said, “So long as you’re not throwing books around in a huff again.” 

Much to his delight, he saw Dorian’s eyes sparkle.

Earlier today, if someone asked him if he thought Dorian would ever look his way, he might have replied ‘Inconceivable’ without hesitation. Now, that prefix has been dropped entirely. Dorian flirting with him was entirely and completely conceivable and right in front of him. And, maybe, just maybe the Hinterlands looked a little more beautiful, a little less muddy. 

He paused, adding, “And, so long as you call me by my name. Inquisitor is so dreadful on the ears after a while.” 

“Asaara, then,” agreed Dorain, giving him a polite nod, “An almost musical name, really. You will have to tell me what it means.”

Inconceivable, indeed.

[zaecula]

LETS GOOOO can i get uhhh hunger is human and/or im going to jail. just spouse things.

wip title tag

okayyyy hunger is human (named for joni mitchell lyrics..... sorry for desecrating your IP queen) was originally a much broader au in which obi-wan is primed to Doubt Everything early on and leaves the order after being asked to put the republic's interests ahead of jedi philosophy one too many times... orrrrrr maybe he just wanted to free up his schedule for extended trips to the outer rim to attend to his definitely casual and NOT code-breaking relationship with a mysterious prostitute from tatooine. who's to say!

despite the implications it was ultimately very pro-jedi and served as kind of a thesis on how leaving the order doesn't make one """"""gray"""""" but i abandoned the grand scheme of the au because i reached a point where i was having to retell canon events, which i cannot STAND reading in fic, and if it's not something i'm interested in reading there's no WAY i'm gonna take the time to write it. anyway i plucked out the smut, cleared away most of the plot references, and reworked it into a series of loosely-connected oneshots. the original themes still stand but it's def porn-forward now lmao. IF this next round of migraine treatment helps me return to writing regularly (god please) it'll prob be one of the first things i publish :3c

im going to jail is um. it's not that bad actually but after finishing mashi's secret santa gift i was dyinggggg to write something set in the gffa with full tilt virginity kink + barely-legal trophy twink anakin. obi-wan tries very hard to be a gentleman about it and fails catastrophically. here's an (unedited) ((nsfw)) snippet from the intro

The ultimate opportunity has been right in front of him for months now. Anakin is eighteen years old and simply must be untouched, with how oblivious he is to the advances of foreign dignitaries on seemingly every planet they visit. It’s all the more infuriating the longer Anakin is of age— if only he’d open his eyes and let someone else open his legs, take him off the table so Obi-Wan could get on with his life.

It simply couldn’t be that easy, though. Finding a young-ish pro in the lower levels and asking them to pretend had been enough until a particularly snarky young man was bouncing on his dick, flexing and moaning and pushing all the right buttons and honestly playing the part remarkably well, when…

“You’re a Jedi, aren’t you? Yeah, I recognize you. You should fuck that padawan of yours. I bet that’s what you really want.”

He’d managed to avoid thinking of that padawan until that moment, when those words conjured the image of Anakin riding his cock so ardently, Anakin’s slender hips slamming down onto his own, Anakin’s face twisted in ecstasy as he abruptly came, harder than ever, with a shocked gasp.

The pro smirked knowingly. “Thought so.”

[loftec]

Hi! in this prompt, could we know about Mickey's ex boyfriend or something? I think his name was Matt?

thank you for participating + pre NTW - Mickey's POV 👀

Anon: tell us about Matt

Yevgeny: his name was Mark

Mickey, pinching the bridge of his nose: Martin, and no. I’m not gonna tell you about Martin.

Narrator: little did Mickey know that he had zero say on the matter, let’s goooo.

April 13, 2013. Saturday.

Mickey is just off the L when his phone rings. For a moment, he considers ignoring the buzzing in his pocket as he lights up a cigarette and bounds down the metal steps. The list of people likely to call him is very limited, and most of that list is very welcome to fuck off to voicemail on a Saturday evening. Work can fuck off, telemarketers can doubly fuck off. On this particular Saturday, even his extended family can fuck off. It might be Martin, wondering where he is, but he can quite frankly also fuck off, seeing as Mickey is no more than five minutes away from their agreed rendezvous.

That only leaves one, and the thought alone is enough for Mickey to step out of the flow of people rushing to and from the platform, and check the damned call. Seeing the ID, he quickly picks up, pressing the phone to his ear.

”What the fuck?” he asks, unsure if he should be annoyed or alarmed and figuring this would best cover a bit of both.

”Hey dad,” his son says, unexpectedly.

”Yev?” Mickey says, inching towards annoyed. At least his son is unharmed enough to dial a phone, so it can’t be too bad. ”What’s wrong? Where’s Sonya?”

”She’s right here,” Yevgeny says, he sounds fine, normal, good, ”we can’t find the cake poking thing.”

Staring at the empty space in front of him, Mickey feels the rest of his mood swan dive head-first into annoyed. ”The what?”

”The thing we use to poke cakes, to check if they’re done? We can’t find it and we need it, the cake is almost done.”

Taking the forgotten cigarette from his lips, Mickey angles the burning end away from his face as he rubs at the deep line between his eyebrows.

”Kid,” he says, trying to sound calm, ”give the phone to Sonya.”

There are some muffled noises over the line, and then Mickey can hear his son’s distant voice. ”He wants to talk to you.”

”Hey Mickey,” Sonya comes on, breezy as anything. ”Is it supposed to be in the cutlery drawer? Been rifling through that thing for a good minute already.”

”Are you fucking kidding me?”

”What? It’s not such a weird guess, is it? I’d say it’s cutlery adjacent at least.”

”I’ve been outta the fucking house for less than forty minutes!” Mickey says, calmly. He is absolutely not screeching loud enough to have people on the street give him concerned looks. ”And you call me about some fucking–, I don’t have anything like that! Who has a thing specifically for poking cakes?!”

”Oh please,” Sonya scoffs. ”Plenty people do, you being one of them!”

He wants to point out that this is categorically not what he meant when he said ’call me if there’s an emergency’, but he’s got a feeling that this is only going to get him into an argument about the definition of ’emergency’ that he’s not going to win, and besides, he’s got bigger fish to fry right now.

”I absolutely do fucking not!” he splutters, glaring at a couple throwing him side-eye as they rush past him. ”Are you outta your mind?”

”I know you have one, because I gave it to you,” Sonya says, clanking sounds in the background from where she’s still presumably rifling through Mickey’s shit. ”Remember? When you moved in? I got it in Sweden when I was visiting for my cousin’s wedding. It was hand crafted, Mickey, you better not have thrown it out!”

”That thing?” Mickey balks, smoothly electing to not point out that they both know Sonya came home from her trip with like ten of those in her luggage and then spent the next two years giving them to all her friends and family whenever she’d forgot about getting gifts for an occasion. ”I stuck it in Merida.”

The silence on the other end of the line is palpable, and it takes a second for Mickey to hear what he just said.

”Who is Merida, and do I want to know why you stuck my hand-carved Swedish cake poker in her?”

Mickey sighs, and decides that he doesn’t have to answer that. He can try, at least. ”Tell Yev it’s in Merida.”

”I most certainly will not tell your sweet summer child that you’ve stuck the cake poker in–,” her increasingly high pitched voice abruptly falls to a hiss, ”–Merida, who is Merida?”

Luckily, Mickey can hear his son in the background, saving him from having to explain. ”It’s this thing?”

There’s another silence, Mickey takes the opportunity to smoke and accept the inevitable.

”Two questions,” Sonya says, her usual good humor back in her voice. ”One, you stuck my hand-carved Swedish souvenir in a potted plant? And two, you named the plant Merida?”

”It’s cartoon character–,” Mickey starts, before realizing what he’s saying and cutting himself off, ”I didn’t name it, obviously.”

”But you still call it by its name.”

”Whatever,��� Mickey blows out a puff of smoke and can’t help smiling. Sometimes he just has to stop and take stock of how fucking ridiculous his life has turned out. And how much he fucking likes it, despite himself. ”Congratulations, you found it. Any other emergency you needed me for, or can I get back to my–”

He swallows, catching himself mid-sentence, suddenly unsure of how he intended to end it.

”–thing.”

”You’re there already?” Sonya asks, sounding genuinely remorseful now. ”Sorry, you left so late I thought for sure you’d missed the train and would still be en route, or I wouldn’t have told Yev to call. How’s the date going?”

Mickey swallows again, throat dry. He starts walking down the street in the direction of the bar.

”It’s fine, still on the way,” he says, ”and it’s not a date.”

”Like heck it isn’t,” Sonya tuts, ”you’re out on a Yev weekend for the first time since I’ve known you, and I saw that shirt you’re wearing.”

He runs a hand self-consciously along his belt, his button-down still tucked in and in place. He refuses to worry about it.

”You looked good, Mickey, I meant to tell you,” Sonya continues, and she doesn’t even sound like she’s teasing anymore which Mickey knows even less how to handle. ”And you’re undeniably on a date.”

”Shut up,” Mickey mutters and smiles to himself when Sonya laughs. Feeling a little more himself, he chucks his cigarette to the curb and stops to look across the road at his destination. ”Maybe.”

He hadn’t really considered the possibility, before Martin asked him. But the sex was always good, they got along really well, and when Martin looked up at him from his bed as Mickey was pulling on his jeans, his hair rumpled and lips still shiny, and asked if he wanted to go to some kind of hipster showcase gig together, Mickey had barely even hesitated.

”About time, too,” Sonya says. ”Was starting to think the guy wasn’t all there, taking his sweet time. Maybe he was waiting for you to ask.”

”Ey,” Mickey shakes his head, ”it’s only been a couple of months.”

”Try six! That’s half of a whole year.”

”Try minding your own fucking business,” Mickey says and frowns. Maybe it has been that long since the first time they hooked up, but it’s not like they’ve been fucking on the regular the whole time since then.

”Just happy for you, Mickey,” Sonya says, like it’s an easy thing for her to say. ”You like him, right?”

He doesn’t say yes, but he doesn’t outright deny it either, which probably tells Sonya everything she needs to know.

”Gotta go,” he says instead, ”and don’t call me again unless it’s an actual fucking emergency. See you tomorrow.”

Not waiting to see if she’s got something to say to that, he hangs up and shoves the phone back into his pocket. Staring at the unassuming building across the street, he allows himself a moment to take it all in. He’s just casing the joint before he enters, it’s normal fucking behavior. He isn’t stalling.

It doesn’t look too busy from the outside, there’s no line, and no bouncer or guard by the propped open double doors. The walls of the building are littered with layers of posters, on both sides of the doors and across the covered windows. Not much can be seen through the doors from his vantage point, but he assumes that it’s a front room leading to whatever’s going on inside the building.

There’s a guy standing off to the side of the doors, smoking. He’s got a lanyard shoved down his back pocket, ID badge dangling in clear sight. Most likely someone working at the bar, out on a break. His shoulders are hunched and he’s got a phone clutched to his ear, head bent and lips pressed together in a thin line. He nods at whatever is being said to him over the phone. Mickey looks up at the worn sign above the door.

”Fuck it,” Mickey mutters and, pushing aside the last of his niggling doubt, makes his way across the street and through the doors. It’s dark enough inside that his eyes need a second to adjust, before he quickly orients himself and heads toward the noise and lights leaking out from behind a set of swing doors beyond the coat check.

”Excuse me!” someone pipes up behind him, and he turns back to raise his eyebrows at the girl standing behind a counter by the entrance. ”We’ve got a showcase tonight, you need to buy a ticket.”

She makes an apologetic face as Mickey gets closer and pulls out his wallet.

”25,” she says when he gives her a questioning look.

”Christ,” he mutters, but forks over the money. ”This better be good.”

”We’ve got a really exciting lineup tonight, all local acts,” she says, obviously relieved now that he’s payed and she can tuck away his hard earned cash in her little lock box. ”I’m hoping I can take a break soon so I can sneak a peak of the headliner.”

She winks at him as she hands over a ticket, and he has zero fucking clue what he’s supposed to do with any of that.

”Okay?” he says and accepts the ticket. ”What’s this for? I’m already here.”

”In case you want to go in and out,” she says, and then tacks on when she seems to remember something she’s supposed to say; ”there’s no smoking in the venue.”

Mickey shrugs and pockets the ticket, biting back the urge to tell her that there’s no fucking smoking anywhere these days, thank you very much. The girl is still smiling at him when he turns his back on her and heads for the bar.

”Have fun!”

Finally inside, the place seems to be a collection of smaller rooms with some walls knocked down to make a larger, oddly shaped space. The bar is crowded, three bartenders moving around each other and pouring drinks in the narrow space behind it, and all the tables tucked away in the dark half-room next to it seem occupied. In the main room, Mickey finds the small, raised stage with a bigger crowd gathered in front of it. There’s a guy on stage, talking about something and looking like he’s about to cry while getting thoroughly ignored by a majority of his audience.

Mickey included, when he spots Martin a bit to the left of the stage. He’s talking to a couple of people he must have met in the crowd, smiling in that carefree way of his, eyes squeezed together and head tossed back when he laughs. He seems to do that a lot, laugh and talk and make friends wherever he goes. Open about himself in casual throw-away lines as he lets Mickey into his apartment, takes his clothes off, catching his breath, seeing Mickey off again. It’s nice seeing him out here, in the real world.

Maybe this could work. Mickey really should have tried harder to be on time, leaving your date to make new friends while he waits for you to show up seems like a bad move, now that he thinks about it.

Shit. Here goes nothing.

”Hey!” Martin exclaims, face lighting up with a wide smile when Mickey walks into his line of sight. He doesn’t sound upset, really doesn’t look it either when he pulls Mickey in for a quick kiss. It’s over before Mickey’s had the chance to do much else than blink in surprise.

”I’m late,” he acknowledges and hopes Martin will take the attempt at an apology for what it is.

”It’s fine,” Martin gins at him, tilting his head in the direction of the stage, ”you haven’t missed anything good.”

”– have you ever noticed that?” the guy on stage mutters into the microphone, ”I mean–, uh, I’ve noticed, that–, sometimes–”

Tuning the guy out again, Mickey looks past his date at the two people still standing on his other side, regarding them curiously.

”We got a problem?” he asks them, raising his eyebrows further when the woman just smiles at him.

”Oh,” Martin says, angling himself so the four of them make a little semi-circle in the crowd. ”My friends, Nora, Ethan, this is Mickey.”

Mickey stares at the side of Martin’s face for a moment, before he notices Ethan’s outstretched hand. He feels confused enough to grab it in a quick handshake. The woman, Nora, just keeps smiling.

”Nice to meet you, Mickey,” she says, clearly hiding something. People generally aren’t this smiley without an agenda, in Mickey’s experience.

”Sure,” Mickey says, glancing at Martin for some clue as to what he’s supposed to do now.

”You wanna go get yourself a drink?” Martin asks, pointing in the direction of the bar. ”This comedy train wreck should be over soon, hopefully.”

”Sure,” Mickey says again, wrong-footed by the whole odd situation and frustrated with himself for not being able to shake the feeling that he’s made a huge mistake.

”Go with him!” Nora says, making Martin take a half-step closer to Mickey by shoving lightly at his shoulder. ”We’ll save the spot.”

She gives Martin a pointed look and some kind of silent communication seems to happen between them, ending with her looking victorious and Martin dropping his head back with an exaggerated sigh. Then he turns to Mickey and playfully gestures for him to lead the way.

”Sorry about her,” he says once they’ve reached the bar, leaning in closer to speak directly into Mickey’s ear. The warmth of his breath makes the hairs on his neck stand on end. ”I keep telling her to back off, but she’s got it in her head that we’re doing something we’re not.”

Mickey swallows and turns his head to look at Martin when he leans back.

”And what are we doing?” he asks, and he doesn’t realize how it sounds until he sees Martin’s gobsmacked expression.

He lets out a startled laugh. ”Are we really gonna talk about this now? Here?”

And technically, Mickey agrees with him. He really doesn’t want to have the ’what are we’ conversation, and he definitely doesn’t want to have it now, here. But he’s already said it, and now he needs to know.

”Maybe,” he says and frowns when Martin just stares at him for a moment.

”I don’t know?” Martin eventually says. ”We have fun, right? I didn’t think you wanted it to be more than that?”

Mickey can barely hear his own thoughts over the noise from the bar, but he can practically feel his heartbeat in his throat. ”Do you?”

Martin makes a pained face, like it’s an involuntary reaction to the mere idea, before he shrugs helplessly and gives Mickey an uncertain smile.

”We don’t really have anything in common, Mickey,” he says. ”I don’t know, I just don’t see it going anywhere.”

”Thank you for participating,” the guy on stage says, his voice louder and verging on hysterical. It gives Mickey a reason to look away from Martin’s face for a second, hating the sympathetic twist to his lips. He feels like a fool.

”You suck!” someone yells in the audience.

”Yeah? Right back at you buddy!”

”Get off the stage!”

”Sure,” Mickey says, and nods. ”No, sure. You’re right.”

”Sorry?” Martin says and grins when Mickey rolls his eyes. ”And we can still have fun, right? Hey, I’ll buy you a drink! What do you want?”

”Anything, a beer,” Mickey tries to focus on Martin, on the list of prices pinned to the wall behind the bar, but there is suddenly too much noise, too many people, too much… stuff. ”I just gotta–”

He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say, so he stops. He doesn’t know what he wants, but getting out of this room would be a good start.

Martin looks confused, and then tuts reproachfully when Mickey pulls out his pack of smokes and gestures in the direction of the doors. He hates it when Mickey smokes, always makes him brush his teeth before they do anything. Guess that’s another thing they don’t have in common. Mickey hadn’t given it much thought.

He leaves Martin by the bar to fend for the bartender’s attention on his own and goes back outside, ignoring the surprised look on the girl by the door when he strides past her. Once outside, he’d hoped the fresh air and relative silence would knock him back on track, but it doesn’t. Everything is exactly the same, only now he can add ’running away like a pussy’ to the list of tonight’s embarrassments. He hates this, this isn’t him.

He should go back inside, show Martin and his friends that he doesn’t give a shit. Have a couple of beers, get through the night, make that asshole suck his dick until he can’t feel anything but a warm mouth and his own pleasure. But he’s not repaying any favors, not tonight, let that shithead take care of himself, since he can’t see it going anywhere. Fuck that. It’s fine.

”I know–, no, I know…”

Wrapped up in his own bullshit, Mickey hadn’t noticed he wasn’t alone. The same man from before is still on the phone, and he looks if possible even more miserable than he did when Mickey first arrived.

”That isn’t–, no, I know you didn’t… listen–”

Mickey ignores him, taking out a cigarette putting it to his lips. Might as well, he’s already out here. He lights it up. He, lights it up… come the fuck on, he lights it up. His lighter is out. Fucking great.

”Ey,” he says and turns to the guy on the phone, ”you got a light?”

The guy stares at him, and Mickey absently thinks he looks even worse up close. Like, disturbingly hot and built enough to properly toss a guy around if he wanted, but absolutely worn down by whatever it is he’s doing with whoever’s on the phone with him. Whatever, not Mickey’s problem. He shakes his empty lighter when the guy doesn’t immediately react.

”Oh,” the guy blinks, his eyes are red. He digs out a lighter from somewhere and hands it over. ”Here.”

”Thanks,” Mickey steps close enough so he can reach out and take it, and consequently hear the distant sound of a man’s voice on the other end of the line. He can’t make out any words, but the tone is unmistakable. The guy frowns and turns away slightly.

”Jesus, Jace, what the fuck?” he says, voice low and sharp. ”Are you serious right now? I’m not–, you know what?”

Mickey lights up and takes a couple of steps away to give the guy some privacy, but might still watch him out of the corner of his eye and hear pretty much everything he says. Call him a nosy bitch, but he really needs the distraction right now.

”I can’t do this right now,” the guy sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. ”We’re on in like ten minutes and I can’t–, I can’t do this with you right now. I asked you for time.”

He listens, and whatever it is that’s being said to him seems to hit a nerve. The general air around him of annoyed resolve slowly shifts into something more resigned.

”Yeah, I know… I’m sorry,” he says, and Mickey doesn’t know him or his situation, but he knows this can’t be right. ”Tomorrow, we’ll talk. I promise. Yeah, thanks… I will. Love you, too.”

Mickey shouldn’t be listening to this, he should finish his cigarette and go back inside. Find Martin and enjoy the night, have some fucking fun. Maybe he should, but he doesn’t want to.

He wants to go home, put on some fucking comfortable clothes and watch a movie with his kid.

”Heads up,” he says and waits until the phone guy looks up before he lobs the lighter back at him. He fumbles, but catches it. ”Fuck him, you deserve better.”

The guy stares at him, and rightly so. Mickey doesn’t know why he said that, he doesn’t know anything about it. But the guy looks… he looks a bit like Mickey’s feeling, deep down and buried many times over.

He looks lost.

”You deserve better,” Mickey repeats, because he already said it and he’s nothing if not all in. The guy opens his mouth on a shaky exhale, but he doesn’t say anything. Probably thinking of ways to get away from the freak accosting him on the street with unsolicited affirmation bullshit. Which, fair enough. Guess that’s Mickey’s cue to fuck off. If the guy would just stop staring at him like that.

A hand-holding couple suddenly walks right through their intense moment, heading for the doors. Mickey comes back to himself and, thinking quick, he takes out his ticket and waves it at the couple to get their attention.

”No thanks,” the man said, probably thinking he’s trying to sell it.

”Just fucking take it,” Mickey grumbles, shoving the ticket at them.

”Uh, thanks?”

Mickey waves a dismissive hand at them, already on his way.

”Thank you!” someone shouts after him.

He can’t wait to get home. Kick off his shoes, wash out the gel in his hair. Untuck his fucking shirt. Investigate whatever that cake poking business was about, hopefully cake. Watch his kid watch a movie, see his little face light up and mouth along with the words. Absolutely ignore Sonya’s inevitable attempts to get him to ’talk about it’.

His life is fucking fine the way it is, he doesn’t know why he got it in his head to try and make it something it isn’t.

[kinsbin]

Title: Birthday Gift Rating: G (all audiences) Ship: [Platonic] The Sim Siblings - Jonathan Sims + Kinley Sims

A/N: Despite my birthday being in February I just really wanted to write out this lil' scenario I've kind of had in my head. Kinley wears a Nazar around their neck and it was given to them by Jon! So this is kinda how they got it. V stupid and self indulgent but when isnt my writing.

----

Jonathan couldn’t help the long exhale of breath that left his mouth as he thumbed through the statements in front of him with idle curiosity. The tape player on his desk remained patient as it allowed time for his decision. The batch he had been presented with this morning was a rather dull selection of easily refuted arguments about paranormal activities that felt ingenuine at best. Even a horror podcast could come up with more believable content than some of the titles that flickered past his eyes. The Archivist felt the dullness of the day creep over the side of his shoulder, an unwanted burden against the spine of his back as he resigned himself to the afternoon's obvious dullness. He picked one at random, laying it flat on his desk as his other hand moved for the record button on his tape.

It clicked on, the static echoing in a promise of its preparedness. Jon took a moment to clear his throat.

“Statement of Leonardo Montoya regarding-”

A knock echoed on the door of his office, causing Jon’s words to falter messily before coming to a halt. He frowned to himself, annoyed at the interruption to his already dulling day, and turned to look over at the offending wooden frame with undeniable frustration. There was a long silence, patient in its noncommittal echoe, before another careful tap of knuckles resonated again.

“Jon? Are you in?” Martin’s voice was muffled through the edges of the wood. Another annoyed sigh broke past his lips before Jon could fully stop it.

“Yes, Martin, what do you want?”

Martin opened up the door fully, his head popping through the slim entrance he had created with a smile on his lips. It curled around the edges of his face, making the corners of his eyes wrinkle softly as he stared into the office. Jon tried his best to ignore the detail as he distracted himself with the sharp edge of the paper between his fingertips, eyebrow raising upwards in semi-impatient curiosity.

“Sorry,” The apology flowed from his assistant’s lips, lacking the usual genuine concern it often had, “But I just wanted to let you know that we’re getting ready to celebrate Kinley’s birthday! Elias let everyone take a small break at the same time to go to the break room with them. There’s even donuts! I thought you might want to come.”

Of course he wanted to come. He hadn’t forgotten about his brother’s birthday. Well, to be mor accurate, Kinley would not let him forget. Their private texts were nothing but the edges of annoying memes alongside constant prods and inklings about just what it was he was planning for their birthday. There was never any real threat to the words, though. Kinley knew that Jon wasn’t the best at ‘partying’ as they had put it idly in a conversation one day. No, the going outs and loud evenings with friends suited them much more.

It was probably why they got on with Tim so well, too. More than one conversation with the other archival assistant had led to his disbelief that the two were related. (“We’re not,” Jon would state, “They’re adopted”. Followed by a swift ‘Oh fuck off Jonny’ and a kick to the back of his leg).

None of that meant that he didn’t care, though.

“Right,” Jon finally nodded to Martin, “I’ll be… I’ll be there in just a second, then. Thank-you.”

Martin seemed more relieved than he should have been that Jon had agreed, giving a thumbs up before disappearing back behind the door. He left it slightly ajar, a small tick that made Jon frown, but he ignored it for now.

His hand put down the statement and instead reached around for one of his drawers. Opening it up, he stared down at the neatly wrapped box inside of it. He wasn’t that good at wrapping up gifts, and the struggle was obvious against the wrinkled red gift wrap and messily tied golden bow. Really, he scolded himself, he should have just gone with a gift bag. He clutched the small gift in his hand for a moment, as if debating to himself to unwrap it and just give it as it was, but it was honestly too late now. They’d make fun of his wrapping skills in both situations. Might as well make it look like he had some effort in it.

He stood up with the present and made his way into the break room.

---

The room itself was brightly lit with the fluorescent ceiling bulbs above them. Kinley couldn’t help but grin as the chatter of others filled their ears, eagerly clinging to the gentle ‘happy birthdays’ and pats on the shoulder that their co-workers offered them. Most of the faces were familiar, others from the archival branch of the institute above others. Still, other departments had those who could not resist the promise of free donuts and came to visit nonetheless. They greeted them with the same happy birthday wishes, though, and as long as they seemed happy with it, Kinley didn’t complain.

A hand flew onto their shoulder, patting them eagerly as they startled in their spot.

“There they are!” Tim’s voice was bright at their side as he hung off of them, “Happy Birthday, big boy! You made it one more year.”

“Happy birthday, Kin.” Sasha’s voice joined in as she smiled at the two’s side.

Kinley laughed, leaning back and kicking playfully at Tim’s feet as they blushed forward at the sudden attention. A hand rose up to itch at their face, picking idly at the small spots of acne that dusted across their reddening cheeks.

“You guys really didn’t have to do all of this for me!” Kinley stated as they smiled, “The gift cards were sweet enough, really!”

“And miss a chance to spoil one of our top curators? I’d hardly call that a worth celebration.”

Tim pulled away from Kinley, who blushed in surprise as Elias approached them. The smile on his face was easy going, but they could still feel the tinge of professionalism lacing his voice. It made their own back straighten as they smiled up politely, still holding the plate of their favorite donuts close to them as they averted their gaze from his intense eyes.

“Thank-you, Mister Bouchard. Really you didn’t have to go through so much trouble. I could at least help pay for the food and-”

Elias held a hand up with a shake of his head, “I wouldn’t dream of it. Consider it my birthday gift to you if you must.”

“Okay, okay,” Kinley relented easily against the whims of their boss, “Still, thank-you for all of it. I don’t know how you guessed that this was my favorite donut shop, too!”

“I suppose I’m just lucky like that.” Elias smiled slightly, as if remembering some sort of joke to himself.

The door to the break room opened once more, making the curious eyes turn towards it. Martin appeared through it with a grin on his own lips, his hand upwards to wave at the group. Kinley waved excitedly back at their friend, eyes bright with excitement as he came over to give them a sideways hug. They held their donut away to hug the taller man back with a grin.

“Happy Birthday, Kin.” Martin cooed with a pleasant eagerness, “We should go out later after work to celebrate proper.”

“That’s a great idea!” Tim piped up with a shine in his eyes.

“You guys are going too far,” Kinley groaned with their face in their palm, “This really is enough.”

“Nonsense,” Martin declared, “I’ll buy for you if that’s what your worried about.”

“We all will!”

“Okay, okay! We’ll goooo, now stop making me blush it’s disgusting.” Kinley hit Tim on the shoulder, making the man laugh.

A throat cleared, making them all focus forward on the man behind Martin. Kinley couldn’t stop the grin from brightening itself on their lips as they spied their brother from behind Marin’s shoulder. He shifted awkwardly in his spot, catching his sibling’s eyes with that usual look he got when they were in a crowd together. A silent plea of ‘oh god please help’ that made Kinley laugh through their nose. Putting their plate down on the nearby table, they shifted around the other’s towards Jon with a laugh.

“Found time out of your incredibly busy schedule to wish your dear, sweet, light-of-your-life brother a happy birthday, Jonny?”

Jon cringed at the nickname, his face enflamed with red as Kinley bumped shoulders with him, that usual shit-eating grin on their face as he nudged them back with what equal force he could muster. They had always managed to be stronger than him, but the pity in them made them let up only slightly as he pushed them away. Behind them, Tim held back a snicker at Kinley’s words and Sasha rolled her eyes as the two settled back into a more professional manner.

“I thought you’d forgotten,” Kinley admitted, half-joking as they grinned up at him.

Jon’s brow furrowed with almost genuine hurt, “I’d never forget something like this.”

“Thanks,” Kinley’s grin split their lips again, “Soooooo…”

“So what?”

“You said ‘happy birthday’ but what did you GET me?”

“You assume I got you something? Is my support not enough?”

“Not by a longshot. Now come on, Jonny, give me the goods.”

“I told you to stop calling me that at work!”

“Jonny, Jonny, Jooooony,” Kinley sang eagerly as they watched his face furrow with frustration. They grinned wide at it as he finally relented and held up the small, poorly wrapped box with a smug look of satisfaction. Kinley’s eyes lit up as they moved to take it from him, but he quickly pulled the item away with a turn of his nose.

“If that’s how you’re going to be, I don’t think you deserve this then.” He declared, holding the item out as far away from Kinley as possible. They leaned forward, trying to snatch it with a whine.

“What come on-! I’m sorry, see? Now give me my birthday present you prick.”

“I don’t feel like you really MEAN it, though.”

“Oh my GOD this is workplace discrimination, Jon, give me my present!”

He finally relented, allowing Kinley to grab the item and eagerly look down at the package, snorting at the wrapping paper as they held it up.

“Great wrapping job, Saint Nick.”

“Oh I’m so sorry your highness did you want me to have it flown in on a box of gold?”

“It’s the least I deserve, don’t you think?”

“You deserve plenty of things but that isn’t one of them.”

Kinley snorted and went back to their present, unwrapping the edges carefully, not wanting to make a mess of paper on the break room floor, and pulled off the top of the box within it. Their eyes widened as they looked down at the item, running their thumb along the box before using their other hand to reach in and pull it out.

It was a standard necklace, the chain a bright sterling silver with a lock on its back. The charm hanging down on it was a Nazar held in a silver pendant, the whites and blues of its eye-like shape staring forward into their soul as they watched it back. They turned the item, the mirroring design on its back staring at them once more. Their lips parted in awe for a moment before they closed again, standing up straight as they admired the jewelry piece.

“Did you really-”

“It’s the same one you texted me, yes,” Jon stated, “I remember things, you know. Though, if you changed your mind about it, I can always just take it back and you can-”

“Oh shut up, it’s perfect.” Kinley grinned as they put the box down, shifting their neck so that they could wrap their arms around to the back and clip the shiny new necklace in place on them. The lock clamped together neatly, nimble fingers easily fiddling with the smalle mechanism, and they let it hang down on their chest with a smile on their lips. The edges of its silver caught the light and sparkled, shiny and new and all theirs as they held it in their hand for a moment, running a thumb along the Nazar itself with a grin.

When Kinley looked back up there was a genuineness to their gaze. A bright and thankful sort of stare that lit up in their eyes as they looked at their brother. Jon watched them back, pursing his lips to hide the edges of a smile that tried to break across his own face. They rarely had a chance to celebrate their birthdays with one another. Between Kinley’s own job traveling through Europe to gather research and artefacts and his own locked away in the bowels of the Institute itself, there was little chance to watch each other grow any more. Like a lifetime together hadn’t made them tired of it.

Still, there was a sense of pride in having been able to make them smile like they did when they were kids.

“Thanks, Jon,” Kinley finally sighed, leaning over to give their brother a hug. Jon tensed up in it, squishing his face together in a look of discomfort. The eyes of his co workers focused on them.

“Aww,” Tim teased immediately upon seeing the show of affection, “What a good brother! Where’s my camera?’

“The only one to hug Jonathan Sims and tell the tale,” Sasha nodded sullenly alongside the other, making Jon squirm as he glared at them both.

“The peanut gallery isn’t necessary for any of this I- Kin let go of me.”

Kinley held him tighter, grinning wider.

“KINLEY.”

“Nooo you gotta embrace the moment Jon.”

“Whatever ‘moment’ you had was ruined when you started doing this! Stop being immature and-”

“I can’t hear you over the sound of me hugging you.”

“Oh for God’s sake-.”

The Nazar around their neck jingled with a pleasant metallic hum, a gazing symbol of appreciation between the siblings as it stared aimlessly forward into the brightness of the afternoon.

It was a good birthday.

[joshua-flipping-washington]

EllieDina Week - Day 6: Redemption.

Shit, I apologize for this one being late again! But it got away from me, and ended up being my longest story yet. I hope that you guys enjoy .

Rating: Teen and up.

•○°●

Ellie stands stock-still on the worn front porch, the seafoam green paint that used to cover it in bright droves, was peeling off in little chips and flakes. Ellie raises her hand and closes it in a loose fist, her hand is shaking as she brings it forward and knocks on the dark blue front door. With a familiar three toned knock, she closes her eyes and takes a step back.

She counts backwards from ten, and draws in four big breaths and then exhales. Repeating until she feels herself start to calm down. " Dammit, Ellie- Calm yourself! It's just Dina and little Spud! We are just going out on a picnic, nothing too serious. " Ellie grimaced at her own words towards herself, she knew that she had every right to panic. Dina could have cut Ellie out of her and JJ's life, and just moved on. But she'd chosen to let Ellie prove herself, and Ellie would always be eternally grateful for that.

Ellie's green eyed gaze had drifted down to the porch at some point, so when the door went flying open she was quick to raise her head and brace for impact. She crouched down just in time for JJ to come barreling into her arms, giggling with delight as he wrapped his arms around Ellie. " El! I made yew something! " He excitedly moved back a bit, and presented Ellie a bracelet that was made out of twine, she smiled as she held her wrist out.

She watched him struggle for a moment with getting it tied onto her wrist, but once he did, she chuckled as he smiled proudly. His missing front tooth making it ten times more adorable than should be legal. Ellie turned her wrist over and examined the bracelet, it was covered in multicolored beads and had a few charms between a couple of the beads. She ruffled his hair, and grinned at him. " Whoa! This looks super badass, Spud! You made this all by yourself? "

" He made it at school. " Dina's voice suddenly sounded, making Ellie jump slightly and raise her head to stare up at the woman leaning against the door jamb with a loving smile on her face, and the basket for their picnic held in her hands. " He was asked to make a gift for the people who mean the most to him. " Dina raised the hand holding the basket, showing that she was wearing one as well.

Ellie looked back at the bracelet JJ had made for her, then she looked back at him. She sniffed, not at all oblivious to the tears that welled in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, pulling JJ into a small embrace. " Thanks for the new piece, JJ. I will wear it with pride. I still- I can't believe that you are old enough to attend school! " She let him go, and slowly got to her feet.

JJ rushed back past Dina and inside the house as soon as Ellie had released him from the hug. " I forgot! " He shouted as he zoomed upstairs.

Ellie looked at Dina with her brow arched in confusion, but Dina just shrugged her shoulders. Letting her know that she had no idea what he meant by that. " He's a wild card, he could have meant anything. You know, he kind of reminds me of you, when you first came to Jackson. Not the stealing a whole bunch of jerky bit, but just your general personality when you opened up and started talking with me. "

Ellie's mouth fell open with a soft ' oh '. Her eyes shimmered as the memories all came flooding back, and she chuckled. " Well, looks like your work is cut out for you. Having to deal with a replica of tiny fourteen year old me. "

" Yeah, I guess that it is. " Dina said with amusement, she turned to face the stairs as she heard JJ come parading back downstairs. His backpack all packed up and clipped onto him, like he was ready for a weekend of adventuring. " Whoa! What's all that for, buddy? " Dina asked as she watched him walk back onto the porch.

" Nothing, it's a secret. " Was all JJ said, his missing tooth making the his S's sound like he was whistling. He marched down the steps and stopped at the bottom. " I'm ready! " He announced, looking at both Ellie and Dina expectantly.

" Well, alright- As long as it isn't another one of those mice from school. I told you that they are alive, and can't breathe inside of your backpack or pocket. " Dina spoke as she walked out the door, closing it behind her.

JJ gave a firm shake of his head. " No, is not a mouse, Mama. Promise. "

Dina let out a breath of relief, happy to not have to deal with THAT situation again. " Oh, thank god. "

Ellie looked confused at the mention of mice from school, and all it made her think of was shooting rats with a BB gun back in Boston. She walked down the stairs with Dina, gently nudging JJ's shoe with the toe of her boot. " Fine, keep your secrets, Spud! " She teased.

Ellie was trying really hard not to think about the fact that JJ was going to school every weekday and she was missing it, because she lived back where she used to. When Joel was still alive. The place brought back a lot of feelings, especially one's about all she'd done to fuck up her life. But thankfully, she wasn't ever home long enough to be constantly reminded of the past. She just longed for the days when she could cuddle with Dina and JJ in bed, forgetting all the horrors of the world.

JJ gently tugged on the sleeve of Ellie's flannel, pulling her out of her thoughts. " Let's goooo! I'm starving. "

A grin stretched across Ellie's face as the old joke came to her mind, and she couldn't resist. " Hi, starving! I'm Ellie. It's great to meet you. " She said as she shook JJ's hand with great force. Causing him to laugh and try to tug away.

" You are such a dork. " Dina said with a fond smile, beginning to walk in the direction towards the center of town.

Ellie follows after Dina, JJ trailing along beside her. His backpack making an awful lot of ruckus as he bounced around like the happy kid he was. She side-eyed the bag with suspicion, her mind practically teaming with curiosity. What on earth could a four year old have that's so big of a secret, it must be hidden in a backpack?

Dina stopped once they reached the front gates, talking to one of the guards on duty. She had talked with Maria before hand, just to make sure it was safe. But she still needed to let the guards know they were leaving out. She smiled brightly at them, grabbing Ellie and JJ's hands, and leading them out of Jackson's front gate.

Dina drew in a large breath, exhaling happily. " I know it seems dumb, but the air always smells so much more crisp outside the walls. " She laughed as JJ attempted to mimic her, she tickled his sides with wiggly fingers, causing him to shriek in delight.

Ellie couldn't keep the big smile off of her face, she gave a shake of her head in disagreement. " I don't think it's dumb, especially not when I know exactly what you mean. "

《 》

The walk to the picnic spot had been a rather uneventful thing, but JJ's excitement about every little leaf, critter and river definitely made it worth it.

Dina came to a stop right on a gorgeous riverbank, a field of small bright yellow flowers surrounded them. She smiled as she saw the look of awe stretch across her sons face, but she definitely wasn't surprised to see that Ellie was just as mystified. " Ah, I see that you two love the view here already! "

Dina set down the picnic basket and opened it up, pulling out the small fleece blanket she'd brought for them to enjoy their picnic on.

JJ ran around near the waters edge, laughing and giggling as the water splashed up and licked his feet. " It's cold! Ellie, come! Play with me! " He says in excitement as he crouches down and starts splashing at the waters surface.

" Coming, Spud! " Ellie shouts as she jumps over a fallen log and squats down beside JJ at the waters edge, watching as he concentrates on catching imaginary critters. " Look! I caught a big one! " He says as he holds up his empty fist.

" Whoa, nelly! That fish is as big as you were when you were just a little Potato! " Ellie says in excitement, miming the size of the imaginary fish and placing her hands on her head in wonder.

" Alright, enough fishing you two! It's time to eat. " Dina calls out to them from her seat on the blanket, she had been watching them bond for about ten minutes, a loving smile on her face. Despite all they'd been through, Dina knew that Ellie was the missing half that JJ needed in his life.

Both JJ and Ellie rush over to the blanket, laughing as they flop down onto it.

Ellie was amazed by the amount of food that tiny basket had been able to hold, it was packed with fruit, cheese, fresh bread and jam preserves, beef jerky and a big thermos of water. " I have no idea, how you managed to bring this much stuff. But oh man, this is a feast built for a king. "

Dina shook her head with a snort, gently shoving Ellie by the shoulder, before handing out the plates. " Shut up, you dope. It's normal sized picnic basket. "

Ellie stuck her tongue out playfully at Dina, earning a slight kick from the other woman's foot. Oh… How much Ellie had missed this, just spending time and being in the here and now with Dina and JJ.

Dina served all of them the fresh fruit, bread with raspberry preserves, the cheese and jerky as well as a glass of water. They all sat in silence as they ate, listening to the sounds of the forest. The soft babbling of the river, the leaves brushing against each other as a breeze blows through them.

JJ was seated in Dina's lap, he was munching on a piece of apple, while talking excitedly about something he'd learned in school. And Ellie was just beyond herself, head over heels in love as she watched Dina listen to him speak with such patience, love and understanding in those beautiful brown eyes.

The sun was reaching that beautiful golden peak in the sky, and it cast it's golden rays on the both of them. It was a moment Ellie wished she could preserve forever, Dina's freckled face as she laughed and tickled JJ's side.

" I love you. " Ellie blurted out in a firm, matter-of-fact tone. " And I always have, I never stopped. Even when it seemed like I had, and I lost myself. I love you, and- I want things to be like they used to be. I want to wake up in the bed beside you, and prove to you… How much you mean to me. I want to be a constant in JJ's life, I don't want to watch him grow up from the sidelines. " Ellie sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose.

" And I know, I have no right coming out and saying all of this- But I've been talking about it all with Dr. Monroe. And- And I just needed to get it off my chest, I know that it's stupid- And that all of that is probably the last thing you want, after all I've done. " Ellie didn't realize that she was tearing up until one of the sneaky fuckers slipped down her cheek.

Dina stared at Ellie in shock, her brown eyes flashing with so many different emotions as she searches Ellie's green eyes for any hint that she was fabricating something, anything. But when she saw none of that, and only a look mixed with fear, adoration and love. " Ellie… "

Could Dina let Ellie back into her life like that? Part of her was so unsure, and felt that same fear creeping back up. But she shoved it back down, and told it to shove it. Ellie had been working for two years, to earn back her trust. And… Dina couldn't lie, though she still shielded herself and JJ. Ellie had earned that trust the second she started truly working to fix things in her life. The things that ran deep, and cut to the bone.

Dina's eyes softened as she reached her hand forward and gently caressed Ellie's cheek. " Ellie, you stole my heart the moment I met you. I can't say that it doesn't hurt, when I think back to that night. But- I think that with time, we can mend those wounds. " She leaned forward and pressed a loving kiss to her lips.

JJ giggled and scrambled out of Dina's lap, flopping down onto the blanket in between them. He pulled his backpack off and opened it up, pulling out a small sketchbook that Ellie had found for him. He opened it up to a page it seemed he knew by heart, and proudly showed it to the both of them. It had the words ' My family ' scrawled across the top in typical toddler fashion.

Ellie furiously wiped at her eyes as she observed the drawing, then she laughed and pulled both JJ and Dina into a hug. " Ugh, I love you both so much it physically pains me- Would be a shame... If you were stuck with me. " Ellie said as she pulled back and looked Dina in the eyes. " Dina… I never thought I'd find myself ever saying these words- Especially now. But- What better time than now. Marry me? You wonderful, gorgeous woman. I want to spend the rest of my life, with you and JJ. "

Dina really didn't think that she could be more surprised than she was at Ellie's confession. But she certainly didn't expect to break down in tears, voice thick with emotion as she answered. " Yes, I wouldn't want it any other way. You… Complete us. "

JJ was still a little to young yet to completely grasp the concept, but he was happy because his Mama and Mom were. They spent the rest of the day just spending time together, talking and laughing. They had been given a second chance to grow together as a family.

[riversofmars]

Can’t believe this is actually happening! Part one of the grand (I hope lol) finale. I really hope you’ll be happy with how I’m wrapping it up... here we goooo!

Chapter 16: The Parting of Ways Part I

Clara gasped as she hit the floor with a thud. She was completely disoriented. A moment ago, she had been prepared to die, she had seen the Emperor’s knife heading towards her and accepted her fate. The teleport left her stunned. Who was responsible for saving her? And how did they do it? She scrambled to her feet, she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“River…“ She mumbled to herself. The person who’d betrayed her and therefore the only one who  could have predicted the situation … it wasn’t gratitude she felt towards her, she had brought her into that position after all, but she clearly hadn’t been oblivious or ambivalent towards the consequences of her actions. It seemed as though she was keen to keep balance and playing all sides. She couldn’t help but admire her a little. 

Clara looked around to find out where she had been teleported to. A tent city of sorts, in the shadow of the Citadel. It was the dead of night and only some dying campfires gave any light at all. 

“Clara?“

Clara whipped around at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Of course you’re here…“ She sighed as she recognised the Monk walking towards her, he looked at her bewildered, as she was so completely out of place.

“What are you doing down here?“ He asked slowly, trying to figure out if she had been sent by the Emperor but the expression on her face and the defensive body posture told a different story.

“I was just leaving.“ Clara replied looking around for a way out. There were several people approaching now from all sides. Her arrival had not gone as unnoticed as she had initially assumed.

“Get Missy and the Doctor.“ The Monk said to a man to his left.

“You’ll be looking for a long time.“ Clara retorted, when she realised this had to be where the Doctor had gone to hide.

“What do you mean?“ The Monk frowned, confused.

“Oh, didn’t you know? Your fearless leaders are back at the palace, staring down the Emperor herself. Can’t imagine it’ll end very well, she’s not in a good mood.“ Clara answered flippantly. “To think I was so close… they only had to play along.“

“What happened?“ The Monk carried on, stepping closer.

“Oh you know, I was plotting to kill the Emperor with the help of the Doctor and her wife but they seemed to have other plans.“ Clara gave a little dismissive wave. “I should get going…“ She didn’t want to stay in this place any longer. It wasn’t exactly like they would be sympathetic towards her.

“You’re not going anywhere.“ Another man intervened that Clara vaguely recalled being called Manton. She had seen his file. “You haven’t got the Shade anymore.“

“Very observant.“ Clara replied curtly, trying her best to hide her anxiety buttoning up her shirt higher. She was helpless and they had just realised that.

“They have cast you out, haven’t they.“ The Monk realised.

“They were going to kill me so yeah, you could say that.“ Clara couldn’t resist the sarcastic reply.

“But why are you here?“ He asked, struggling to make sense of it.

“This is where River - the Doctor’s wife that is - sent me, when the Emperor was going to execute me.“ There was no point in lying. She was in an impossible situation. She had no friends to turn to on either side and the power of the Quantum Shade was gone, so she might as well be honest now and accept judgement whichever shape it should come in. She had already lived longer than she had expected.

“In that case, you will help us get our friends back. Word of your treason won’t have carried far yet, I can’t imagine the Emperor would want that rumour to spread.“ Manton said firmly. They could use her to get around the palace.

“Why would I help you?“ Clara asked, utterly bewildered.

“It’s the least you can do for her saving you. It won’t make up for what you’ve done, you will answer for your crimes too, but you owe us this much.“ The Monk retorted.

“There is absolutely no point, you can’t outsmart her. Missy and the Doctor are most likely already dead.“ Clara shook her head, they clearly didn’t grasp the magnitude of the situation.

“No. That’s the bells ringing in the end of this reign of terror.“ Manton gestured towards the Citadel, the Cloister Bells ringing steadily. “We have to free them, we can’t sit around any longer.“

“Then you will get yourself killed too. Don’t you see there is just no wait to overpower her? I thought I’d figured it out and then… no matter what the Doctor and her wife are planning, it won’t be enough. Missy should know that by now, she should never have clung to that false hope, the Emperor will have her head this time, you mark my words.“ Clara shook her head, her voice bitter. “She should have just given up, why didn’t she just stop?“ It made no sense to her. “Four and a half billion years, she kept going and for what?“ It was a question she had been asking herself for such a long time. She had been responsible for trapping Missy in the confessionary dial, she had spent an eternity in repetitive agony because of her, and yet she had kept going. The question as to why still eluded her.

“To do the right thing.“ The Monk answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“The right thing?“ Clara huffed. “That’s all a matter of perspective…“

“No, it’s not. There is right and wrong, good and bad. There are lines not to be crossed.“ Manton shot back and this time, Clara remained silent. What was she to say to that? She knew she had crossed too many of those lines herself to ever redeem herself. The twinge of guilt she felt was oddly welcome, as she thought of Missy and what was likely happening at the palace.

——

“Keep walking.“ Yaz gave River a shove for good measure as she lead her and Missy down to the holding cells.

“You really don’t have to be so pushy, you know.“ River sighed slowing down a little on purpose, solely to annoy their captors more.

“And you don’t have to be so confrontational.“ Missy hissed to her, worried she would make the situation worse for them. She couldn’t deny, she was a little confused. The Doctor had given her fair warning. When they had spoken of River, she had told her that she could be trouble, but she could hardly tell the difference to the River she knew. They were both overly confident, confrontational and inconsiderate, she just didn’t know when to shut up.

“So when she said arena, am I to think gladiator games?“ River looked to Missy curious for some answers, she knew she wasn’t going to get much out of Yaz.

“Something like that, yeah…“ Missy huffed, dreading to think about it. She hoped the Doctor had a plan… at least she was safe for the time being.

“How exciting.“ River grinned, which worried Missy even more.

“No, it’s not exciting, it’s a public, and very certain, death sentence!“ She hissed in annoyance.

“I’m starting to think your evil version is more fun.“ River sighed. “We broke out of prison together once, fun times, I’m getting an awful sense of deja vu.“ She observed when they reached the holding cells. Dungeon had been a suitable description, they were far underground by the looks of it, there was little light and the cells were set into heavy stone.

“There is no escape.“ Yaz informed them as she opened the cell door and gestured for them to stepped inside.

“Don’t worry, we will be awaiting our execution with baited breath.“ River smirked and walked past Yaz quite happily while Missy followed more reluctantly.

“I’m glad you’re still enjoying yourself, let’s see what you’re like when you’re in the arena and you realise she’s not coming back for you.“ Yaz couldn't resist, she wanted to make sure they understood they were defeated. There was no way the Doctor, wherever she was, would be able to save them now. “If she’s clever, she’ll take the opportunity and run and never look back.“ She locked the cell door.

“And yet, the bells are still ringing.“ River smirked stepping right back up to the bars to where Yaz was standing. “Get some rest, Captain, you look rather worn out.“ She gave her a quick once over. Her misadventure in the Cloisters had left her in worse shape than she cared to admit. Without comment, Yaz turned and walked away. “Judgement is coming for you all.“ River called after her in amusement, sensing she was getting under her skin. None of them would rest easily till morning, not with the Doctor at large.

“Was that really necessary?“ Missy scolded when they were alone at last.

“What’s to be gained by being placid?“ River asked looking around the cell. There was nothing but a metal bench.

“What’s to be gained by being confrontational?“ Missy retorted in annoyance.

“Everybody deals with stress in their own way.“ River shrugged and went to sit on the bench.

“Do you… where did she go?“ Missy asked after a moment of silence. She didn’t sit down, she hovered by the bars looking down the corridor. She didn’t want to doubt that the Doctor was fine and would be back, so she didn’t pose the question, trying to plan ahead instead. If there was such a thing as a plan to all this.

“Earth… some time in the past, I’m not entirely sure, I knocked the time coordinates at the end there, just in case, if they tried to get the information out of me.“ River revealed watching Missy curiously. She marvelled at the genuine worry painted all over her face. She hardly even looked like the Missy she knew.

“They may yet try to…“ She mumbled, there was no way of knowing which lengths the Emperor would go to.

“I think she knows I would sooner die than give up the Doctor.“ River smiled. The Emperor and her wife shared the same unbreakable bond, they would know that it would be a waste of time to question her at this point.

“Did you two plan this? Is there a plan?“ Missy had to ask. The two had barely seen each other, let alone have a chance to hatch a plan, and yet they seemed to be working hand in hand.

“I would like to pretend that there was a plan… but this is what it’s usually like. You just work with what you find and hope it somehow all works out in the end.“ River chuckled.

“And does it?“ Slowly Missy made her way over to her, beginning to feel more comfortable. Without an audience, River immediately appeared more approachable and her words were open and honest.

“Always has so far.“ River smiled as she watched her sit down.

“And what makes you think this isn’t the one time where the odds are just overwhelming.“ Missy couldn’t ignore her doubts altogether. As much as she believed in the Doctor, the odds seemed as insurmountable as ever.

“When you’re with the Doctor, you don’t give up. Ever.“ River shrugged, it was obvious to her but Missy hadn’t know her long enough yet to understand that, so she decide to explain: “We all just do what we can and keep going, keep trying, looking for something we can do, something we can use… The vortex manipulator seemed like a good bet. I knew River would have one cause I always had one. The Doctor is the only one who could dream up a way of stopping them so giving it to her, rather than using is myself, was the logical thing to do.“

“She did say she had some sort of a plan…“ Missy mused. River was making a whole lot of sense. If anyone could come up with a way of bringing down this reign of terror, it was the Doctor. And with time travel at her disposal, she had a real shot. She just had to figure out how to make it count.

“Then I hope I have done my bit to enable it.“ River smiled.

“She did say you wouldn’t need looking after.“ Missy mirrored her smile. She could see what the Doctor had meant when she said River wouldn’t really need their help.

“I am quite capable.“ River winked. “I like to have an ace or two up my sleeve, you never know.“

“Like with Clara?“ Like everyone else, Missy had been caught completely off guard by the disappearing act. She had fully expected her to get killed until River’s last minute miracle.

“Ah, see, that’s another good example of making the most of what we find.“ River chuckled, she had anticipated the question. “I’ll be honest, that was a fortunate coincidence in the end. I had expected her to die. When I made the gamble to betray her to the other River, I accepted that that would probably get her killed. I’m a pragmatist. I knew my best chance at finding a way out of here and a way to aid the Doctor would be to distract River and go through their resources. Clara made a good distraction.“

“You didn’t know you’d be able to save her?“ Missy frowned, unsettled by her apparent lack of remorse. She could tell she was being honest.

“From what I’ve learned about this universe, about these people, about her… she probably would have deserved it. That made the choice slightly easier.“ River shrugged. “And even when I was going through stuff and found the emergency teleport mechanism… I hadn’t intended on using it on her until she really was about to get killed… It was intended as a way out for me, should I need one.“ She revealed.

“What?“ Missy’s eyes widened in shock. River had decided to save Clara instead of herself, when it came to it.

“Don’t misunderstand, Master. I didn’t give my way out up for Clara’s benefit. It wasn’t because I thought she deserved saving.“ River smiled apologetically, she could tell Missy was thoroughly confused. “With the Doctor gone, I didn’t want to leave you behind as well, having to deal with them on your own, and I didn’t want the teleport to go to waste, so Clara was the unwitting benefactor.“

“I uh…“ Missy didn’t know what to say and River didn’t need her to say anything, she just reached for her hand.

“Have a little faith, we’re alive, we’re fine, the Doctor is doing her thing. Now, we just hang on for the time being.“

“Thank you.“ Missy gave her hand a squeeze. “Not, necessarily, for sticking around with me when you had a way out. That was probably stupid. Particularly if we end up getting killed in the arena… but you and the Doctor wanting to help… when you could just be on your way… between the two of you, you’d have found a way back to your reality in no time if you’d wanted to.“

“Ah well, the Doctor has never been able to walk away from toppling a tyrant.“ River winked. “Besides… I’m sure finding a version of the Master she can actually trust… that probably means a great deal to her.“

“Well, having met her means a great deal to me, too.“ Missy smiled weakly, trying not to let her emotions overwhelm her. “I’d pretty much given up hope… I mean, we’re at the end of all things, trapped in the Emperor’s perfect little Empire… nothing to do, nowhere to go… She…“ Suddenly, Missy stopped speaking mid-sentence, she blinked, confused, having lost her train of thought.  

“What is it?“ River asked, immediately concerned.

“It’s… I don’t know like… are these new memories forming? But how…“ She looked to River. “It’s the Doctor… I’ve… met her before.“

——

The Doctor knocked for a third time and looked around to make sure she wasn’t being followed. Earth was a battlefield, the Emperor - or Doctor, still at this time - had really gone to town. She had never seen the devastation of these events first hand, the Master had kept her in a cage when he had carried out these deeds in her universe. She could only presume things had been similar at the time. She averted her eyes and focused on the door in front of her. One battle at a time. She looked at the vortex manipulator on her wrist. Time is what it would take. A lot of it. So much to do… She could only hope she hadn’t miscalculated. She was drawn from her thoughts when finally, the door in front of her was being opened.

“Harold Saxon? Mind if I come in?“ The Doctor smiled at the Master who looked back at her in confusion. She looked up and down the road again to make sure she hadn’t been followed.

“I uh… I think you’ve come to the wrong place…“ He started saying but she interrupted him, she didn’t have time for this, so much to do still.

“No, I think I’m in exactly the right place, now if you don’t mind…“ She pushed past him.

“Who… what… you shouldn’t be here…“ Quickly the Master closed the door, worried someone would see and recognise him. He had been travelling around the globe, trying to help people, but he couldn’t stay anywhere for too long.

“Don’t worry, not going to tell on you, I know you’re busy and everything, preventing the end of the human race. I think this one actually works out alright for you too. Sort of a stale mate, hard to tell, this universe is really confusing. Now, do you have access to your TARDIS?“ The Doctor stopped in her tracks and turned back around to face him. He nearly bumped into her.

“What?“ The Master looked at her dumbfounded. That was an awful lot of information to take in.

“Okay, I feel like I need to rewind a bit…“ The Doctor smiled apologetically, she had gone too fast again. “Hello, Master, I’m the Doctor.“

“You… can’t be.“ The Master took a step back, stunned and confused.

“I am but not the one you’re thinking of. I’m from a distant point in your future and also from a parallel universe. I know it’s a bit much right now but I have a lot of time to get through… and vortex manipulator travel really takes it out of you. So if we could skip ahead to the part where you believe me so we can carry on, that would be great.“ The Doctor explained.

“I think I need to sit down.“ The Master felt a little dizzy with the flood of information but the craziest thing about it wasn’t the information itself, it was the fact that when he looked at her, searched her eyes, he knew she was speaking the truth. He dropped onto a chair by a well worn dining table.

“Good, so do I.“ The Doctor sighed and sat down across from him. She had been at this a while now and rest wasn’t really an option.

“Do you just… expect me to believe all this?“ He asked, after a moment’s consideration.

“Unfortunately, yes. The fate of the entire universe depends on it.“ She replied with a little shrug. “I need your help, I need you and your TARDIS.“ She carried on as he was seemingly getting over the initial shock.

“I’m sure you can understand why I’m a bit sceptical… the Doctor is out there, enslaving all of humanity and I’m one man in a shack…“ The Master said slowly, wondering what other terrible things were happening elsewhere in the universe right now.

“I know you are and you’re doing great, really. But this is not the big fight, Master. It’s one of many. But there is one you can’t afford to lose.“ The Doctor reached out for his hand.

——

“Ahh clever girl.“ River grinned as she waited for Missy to recover. “Anything in particular spring to mind?“

“She’s got a plan…“ Missy realised and looked up to River with a sense of relief and excitement. The Doctor was fine. She was out there, travelling through time, leaving her mark and sharing her plan with her past selves. It was the strangest feeling but it was as if Missy had always known about it. “I don’t understand it, there’s pieces missing still but it must be a clever one.“

“Of course it is.“ River smirked, knowing her wife well enough by now.

“There’s more… so many times, so many versions of me…“ Missy’s head was spinning, she bent over, cradling her head with the strain of it.

“Here, hang on…“ River got up and made Missy lie down. They couldn’t be sure what exactly the Doctor was doing, interfering with Missy’s timeline but it wasn’t exactly easy on her mind by the looks of it. “You should get some rest. Remember, we got a big day ahead of us, fighting for our lives in the morning.“ She joked and Missy actually laughed a little.

“Can’t say I’m looking forward to it.“ She sighed, as she closed her eyes, feeling dizzy.

“Well, it’s not exactly my first time as a gladiator.“ River shrugged as she sat back down at the end of the bench, next to Missy’s head.

“Oh?“ Missy chuckled, she should have expected as much. “When was that then?“

River laughed lightly and brushed back a rough strand of hair from Missy’s face as she leaned back, relaxing herself.

“Well, there was this one time when the Doctor and I…“

——

“Where have you been all this time?“ The Emperor snapped when Amy and Rory showed up in the royal quarters the next morning.

“Getting a good night’s sleep.“ Amy replied a little defensively and confused. “What about breakfast then?“

“Are you serious? Have you not been hearing the bells?“ River exclaimed exasperated. She sat at the dining table piled high with food that neither her nor her wife had touched. The Emperor was pacing, unable to sit still. Neither of them had been able to sleep after the events of the night.

“Oh, that’s what that is?“ Rory strolled over to the table and picked up some grapes from a fruit platter.

“What happened, you look concerned…“ Amy frowned, studying her daughter expression as she came to join her husband.

“Well, while you’ve been getting your beauty sleep, we’ve discovered and stopped a coup.“ The Emperor snapped.

“That’s good, isn’t it.“ Amy asked, confused as to why she was so irritable.

“We also lost the Doctor.“ River revealed with a sigh.

“Less good… what happened?“ Amy looked in between the two women. The Emperor was quick to answer:

“While your dear daughter here has been busy uncovering Clara’s treason and overpowered her, she took the improvident risk of leaving her doppelgänger in our quarters.“ The Emperor still couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to be played like that.

“I could hardly have anticipated her going through our things!“ River retorted defensively.

“What did you expect her to do, wait around for you to get back?“ The Emperor shot back, a clear sign of her stress levels rising, she never usually talked to her like that.

“She had just betrayed Clara to us, she appeared to have sided with us.“ River snapped, the stress getting to her as well.

“You can’t trust anyone, anyone outside of this room. Clara is proof of that.“ The Emperor groaned exasperated. “How has no-one found her yet?“

“Wherever she was transported to, it has to be on Gallifrey, there is nothing beyond it. We will find her.“ River gave a wave of her hand. She wasn’t exactly concerned with Clara. She was no threat to them now. Idly she ran her fingers along the tattoo lines stretching up her neck.

“Clara is on the run?“ Rory asked, trying to get to grips with what was happening.

“Yes but she is harmless now.“ River reassured them.

“And what about the Doctor?“ The Emperor snapped in annoyance.

“The generals are watching the time streams, she will slip up eventually and we will find her. Plus, it’s only a matter of time until she will be back.“ River retorted.

“What makes you say that?“ Amy asked.

“Because her wife and best friend will be publicly executed in less than two hours. I should think she’ll want to be here for that.“ River smirked excitedly, at least something to look forward to.

“That’s alright then.“ Amy shrugged and reached for a plate. “Breakfast?“

——

Neither Missy nor River slept much for the remainder of the night. Instead they shared stories of their lives, learning about each other and even though the Doctor wasn’t with them, her presence was felt in every line, every story.

When footsteps echoed down the corridor, they both looked up. Ryan and Graham stepped into view. The Emperor clearly only trusted her most loyal companions by this point.

“Oh is it that time already? I was hoping for breakfast in bed.“ River sighed theatrically when Ryan unlocked the bars.

“Get moving.“ He ordered.

“Lead the way.“ River stepped out of the cell and Missy followed, trying her best to hide her anxiety.

“I really hope she knows what she’s doing…“ Missy mumbled to River as they walked along the corridor. Although the memories had settled down in Missy’s mind, she was none the wiser as to what the Doctor was really planning. The more she tried to think about what happened next to her past selves after meeting the Doctor, the more blurry the memories got. Perhaps because it hadn’t happened yet?

“If there is one thing I believe in, it’s the Doctor.“ River gave her a reassuring smile.

——

“Lovely day for it.“ River stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked the arena. With a weather as sunny and stable as the seasons on Gallifrey, it was always lovely weather for it. The binary suns where blazing down on the sand, the had really captured the ancient Rome aesthetic the Emperor enjoyed so much. The stands were full, the guards had seen to it.

“Is everywhere secure? Are the troops on hand?“ The Emperor asked of Yaz who had joined them in the royal box.

“Every inch of the arena is being monitored.“ The captain of the guard confirmed.

“Any word from the generals?“ The Emperor continued her questioning and the answer was a prompt one:

“Nothing.“

“Let’s get this show on the road.“ The Emperor knew this was their best chance at luring the Doctor back here to be captured. She stepped up to the balustrade of the balcony where her wife was waiting for her. Despite the stands being crowded, silence fell swiftly as she held up her hands.

River shielded her eyes against the suns when her and Missy where being shoved into the arena. It took a moment to get used to the blazing heat and blinding light as they looked around. No wild beasts or gladiators charging at them just yet. There were, however, confused murmurs amongst the crowd upon recognising River.

“Oh I love the ancient Rome aesthetic they’ve got going.“ River stated as she looked around.

“You know this means we’re either going to be torn limb from limb by wild animals or will have to fight people who are actually trained to fight.“ Missy said sounding worried as they made their way further onto the floor of the arena.

“I’m trained to fight.“ River shrugged, unfazed.

“Speak for yourself.“ Missy huffed and River grinned:

“This just seems like a fun weekend activity if you ask me.“

“How can you be so relaxed about this?“ Missy couldn’t believe her attitude.

“Because I have faith.“ River replied.

“She really must be something, your Doctor.“ Missy did admire the trust River placed in her. She had not hesitated to give the vortex manipulator to her.

“You know she is.“ River retorted looking up to the royal box where she spotted her wife’s doppelgänger glaring down at them.

“You told me the Doctor always wins… well, so does the Emperor… So, who is going to win this? If they’re both undefeated, who will walk away from this?“ Missy asked but River didn’t get the opportunity to respond as the Emperor’s voice echoed through the arena, amplified for everyone to hear and cower.

“People of Gallifrey, welcome to the annual celebration of the forming of our empire.“ There was reluctant cheering that grew when the Emperor frowned in annoyance. Once satisfied with the volume of cheers, she carried on: “You have all heard the Cloister Bells tolling through the night. I will not keep from you that our Empire has been under attack. Despite our best efforts to eliminate all threats to us, we couldn’t account for insidious forces from another, parallel universe to our own. I’m pleased to say we have succeeded in subduing these threats.“ There were few cheers this time, just concerned and confused murmurs. The Emperor gestured for silence and the crowd complied waiting with baited breath. “So here we are, as a reminder of what happens to traitors and dissidents.“ She grinned, regarding Missy and River with wicked delight: “You’re sentences to death, both of you, for attempting to incite a coup.“

“And who, pray tell, is brave enough to carry out that sentence? I’m in the mood for a good fight.“ River called, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“River, don’t antagonise her…“ Missy hissed as she surveyed the arena for a way out.

“Why not?“ River shrugged and yelled up to the balcony again: “I don’t imagine you are brave enough to come down here yourself, so who’s it going to be?“

“Let me do the honours, Emperor.“ Yaz was quick to volunteer.

“I’m not risking anyone of the few people I trust still.“ The Emperor huffed, visibly displeased at her open challenge, but she couldn’t back down, they were in front of people.

“Do you not think I could take her?“ Yaz asked, obviously disappointed. Since the Doctor had tricked her in the Cloisters, she was eager to get her revenge and killing the Doctor’s wife seemed like a satisfying way of doing that.

“I know my wife.“ The Emperor growled, she knew she couldn’t underestimate this River.

“Then let me, I have some scores to settle. We’re evenly matched.“ The Emperor’s wife suggested but she would hear of it either:

“I am not risking you getting hurt.“ The Emperor snapped.

“What’s taking so long, are you picking straws? You wouldn’t want to appear weak and indecisive in front of your people would you?“ River called up from the arena floor again sounding incredibly smug.

“River, what are you doing?“ Missy hissed.

“What I always do when my wife is late to an appointment.“ River answered with a wink: “Play for time.“

“Get me a firing squad.“ The Emperor looked to Yaz who nodded and barked instructions into a comms device.

“Ah, see now, that’s unfortunate…“ River huffed when ten guards, armed with rifles, walked out from the stands and onto the arena floor. “Guess that’s the difference between a fair fight and an execution…“ She mumbled. “Any moment now, Sweetie, would be great…“ She looked around for a sign of her wife but nothing so far. Meanwhile the guards lined up.

“You don’t have to do this.“ Missy burst out, holding her hands out to them. “Please, you know what all this, all of it, it’s wrong! If everyone just stopped listening to her, she would lose her power, don’t you see, if you just…“

“Enough of that.“ The Emperor interrupted her. “Take aim.“ She barked at the guards who drew their guns, some of them obviously reluctantly. They were Gallifreyans, all of them. Missy recognised some of them for having fought alongside them in the Time War. “On my command…“ The Emperor grinned, regarding both Missy and River one last time, steadfast in her decision. She had allowed Missy to carry on for too long, whatever sentimental attachment she still felt towards her, she had betrayed her one time too many. And River… even though she loved the face she wore, she couldn’t be allowed to live, either. In fact, she looked forward to seeing the Doctor’s reaction to finding out she had been killed. If the Doctor ever chose to return at all.

“Not so fast!“ A voice sounded at the far end of the royal box and they all whipped around to see the Monk.

“How did you get in here?“ The Emperor snarled and realised immediately that he was’t alone. Manton held a gun to Clara’s head, she had been their bargaining chip for getting into the royal box. They were accompanied by a large group of men and women, armed and ready to fight for their freedom.

“Isn't this quaint. A little rebellion.“ River growled and the Emperor fixed her eyes on Clara.

“Just when I thought I couldn't be more disappointed in you.“ She hissed. “But at least I’ll get the chance to kill you properly now.“

“Wasn’t exactly my idea, was it.“ Clara protested but she fell silent as she looked down into the arena to see Missy facing down a firing squad. Maybe they had come at just the right time…

“It’s no matter. This was incredibly stupid of all of you.“ The Emperor looked around as Amy pulled out a gun, Rory his broadsword, Yaz, Ryan and Graham readied their weapons and the recently acquired tattoos on River’s chest started dissolving threateningly.

Chaos ensued as Amy took the first shot. Manton shoved Clara aside and went for Rory, barely evading the Raven that struck down two men behind him. There was blaster fire. Clara ducked for cover as the Monk attacked Amy. The Emperor looked on with unadulterated joy. As annoying as this whole misadventure was, she loved the chaos, the blood spill, and these foolish people didn’t stand a chance against them. The Emperor turned back to the arena, remembering what they were actually doing.

“Fire!“ She shouted above the noise of the fighting and the guards did. Everyone stopped moving for a moment, looking to the arena floor waiting for the dust to clear. “How…“ The Emperor stared in disbelief, when she found Missy and River standing unharmed, they both looked confused themselves as they looked around. Every single shot had missed.

Suddenly, with a crackle of energy, the Doctor appeared behind the Emperor.

“Hello again.“ The Doctor grinned and threw herself at the Emperor, knocking into her and pulling her over the balustrade of the balcony with her.