#I just cannot imagine in any universe or au where the doctor would want her to change her name. I literally cannot.

[camellcat]

lose my mind every time the doctor takes rose's last name in fics. brilliant, amazing, splendid, absolutely perfect.

like, what do you MEAN she'd be the one to change her last name? he doesn't even HAVE a bloody name like us! plus, she's rose tyler. you think he's going to want that to be different? it's the doctor and rose tyler in the tardis (or I suppose whatever they do in pete's world, but that's still the doctor and rose tyler having their new adventure)!!

she's rose tyler and he is whatever-he-wants tyler. end of discussion. the whole pond diabolical should've been clue enough imo

[therenlover]

Therenlover’s Official Fanfic Glossary!

Hey hey hey! This is the place where you can find all my up-to-date fanfics linked nicely, read about what projects I have upcoming, and learn what requests I’m taking at the moment! Cheers!

This post is massive so, for the sake of your dash, everything is under the cut

A NOTE ABOUT REQUESTS!

I will do my best to fulfill any requests I get while my ask box/requests are open! That being said, I cannot promise every request will get done, and that if they do, they’ll be done in a timely manner. I’m currently working on a long-form project that needs a lot of time and energy to come out consistently, so unless I’m doing a writing event most of my writing juice will be focused on that. That being said, if you want something ask! The worst I can possibly do is direct you towards someone else who might be able to write what you want if I cant.

If I choose not to do your request based on personal preference (it makes me uncomfy/I don’t write for the character at that time/I don’t feel I can write what you want/etc.) I will do my best to contact you and let you know! That being said, if you think your ask got buried/forgotten, feel free to message me again and let me know, but please tell me when you message me if I should be looking for a prior request.

Characters/Fandoms I will write for currently

 💙 = I’m Currently Super Inspired To Write For This Character

Marvel/X-Men

Bucky Barnes

Loki

Peter Maximoff 💙

Pietro Maximoff

Helmut Zemo 💙

Hank McCoy

Ralph Bohner 💙

Vision

American Horror Story

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker 💙

Kyle Spencer (Pre- and Post- Death)

Jimmy Darling 💙

James Patrick March 💙

Kai Anderson

Fallout 4

Nick Valentine

Hancock

Star Wars

Poe Dameron

Armitage Hux 💙

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Finn

Han Solo

Assorted/Random

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne - FGO

Cu Chulainn/Cu Alter - FGO

Warren Lipka - American Animals 💙

Enjolras - Les Miserables

Grantaire - Les Miserables

Gabriel - Supernatural

Imagines - REQUESTS CLOSED

Songs From Musicals Y/N Would Sing To The Evans

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Headcanons - REQUESTS CLOSED

Modern! AU Armitage Hux Boyfriend Headcanons

Zemo With A Well Dress S/O Headcanons

Zemo Getting Jealous Headcanons

Oneshots - REQUESTS CLOSED

Marvel/X-Men

Helmut Zemo

One Last Night In Madripoor

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4200~

Still Some Catching Up To Do

Synopsis: As a member of the criminal underworld, people walk out of your life all the time. Some are killed, others kill themselves, most get caught and only a couple get out of the life unscathed, disappearing into the world never to be seen again. Very few walk back in. So when your supposedly incarcerated ex-lover, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon waltzed through your door and made you murder your boss, needless to say, you were surprised and more than a little bit pissed.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 6800~

Nine Years Starved

Synopsis: It had been a little over nine years since Helmut Zemo lost his family, his country, and his sanity. Nine years since his last kiss. Nine years since he felt like a human man. Finally, he was ready to start over again, but first, he had to pay his penance back where it all began; Novi Grad. That’s when, by the grace of the fates, he met you.

Rating: G

Word Count: 7000~

Daddy Dearest

Synopsis: Not everyone gets lucky enough to go from being a broke college student in New York to being the sugar baby to literal royalty, but not everyone is you. Most people would be worried about messing things up or losing him to someone else, but you knew he would never find another baby just like you. Besides, you knew exactly what to do to keep him wrapped around your little finger. He may have been the daddy, but you pulled the reins.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 8000~

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs

Part One   Part Two   Part Three   Part Four

Synopsis: As a wanted man, Helmut Zemo spends most of his time jumping from place to place in the hopes of avoiding a trip back to prison. Unfortunately, that means he can’t always be home in your arms. When he is, though, in the rare moments of calm, you’re reminded of just how worth it it’s been to wait, even if that wait was only shortened by the arrival of your enemies.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 35,700~

Two Bodies In The Rain

Synopsis: It was raining the day you finally had to admit your feelings to Helmut. You hated to tell him the way you did, under the grey skies as your blood pooled below you, but at least you knew, in the end, he had seen the real you, even just once. That was enough.

Rating: T

Word Count: 5600~

Rest

Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3200~

American Horror Story

Jimmy Darling

Red Nights In Jupiter

Synopsis: At the end of another long day, you fall into bed with Jimmy Darling. The men you served throughout the day don’t matter then, nor do the coins in the mason jar by the door, or the women scheduled to attend Jimmy’s next Tupperware party. No, in that quiet darkness it’s just you and the man you love, bone-tired and happy to be home. Who could ask for more?

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3000~

James Patrick March

Heartsick

Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3700~

In Sickness And In Health

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5500~

Fallout 4

Currently Empty

Star Wars

Currently Empty

Assorted/Random

Currently Empty

Long Form Works/Series

Young Artist!Zemo AU

Chapter One: The Boy With The Easel

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Rating: T

Word Count: 7000~

Till Forever Falls Apart (A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Chapter One: Welcome Home

Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2400~

Chapter Two: The Doctor Is In

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Rating: T

Word Count: 2800~

Chapter Three: It’s Always Been You

Synopsis: After a month of adapting to his new universe, Peter Maximoff can confidently say that he likes his new life more than his old one. Sure, he misses home sometimes, but he’s been far too busy flirting with his new roommate to spend time crying over the things he’s lost. Everything is smooth sailing until a strange journal in his roommate’s study leaves him with more questions than he knows what to do with. Now he’s on a mission to discover who he’s really living with before she has the chance to turn against him.

Rating: T

Word Count: 8600~

Chapter Four: Before You Go

Synopsis: Peter, after days of contemplation, has realized that part of him loves Y/N no matter what she is or what she’s been through. Unfortunately, he can’t find her anywhere. When she finally returns home with the intention of leaving again, Peter realizes it’s his last chance to tell her how he really feels. Will he succeed, or will he fail to be fast enough once again?

Rating: T

Word Count: 4000~

Chapter Four And A Half: Gimme Swayze

Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.

Rating: T

Word Count; 2600~

Cakes For The Evans: A Blogging And Baking Adventure!

Kai Anderson’s Disaster Cake

Hey you! If you’ve made it this far down the list, thanks for supporting me as an author! I’ll be linking my AO3 here. I post everything there shortly before I post it here, and there are some older fics there you might enjoy along the way! It’s also easier to drop comments over there and I keep them open for non-members, so give me a shout if you liked what I wrote!

I love you all, you make me so happy, and without you support I would never be motivated to write! Cheers!

[sukirichi]

suki’s restaurant is now CLOSED! please read updates after the “keep reading” tab!

thank you for the milestone! it’s really such a huge gift to me since i just started posting jjk content here ten days ago (◕ᴗ◕✿) as a small token of appreciation, all requests are now open and there’s a variety of ingredients you can choose from!

masterlist !

meal guides:

🥞 breakfast - fics longer than 1k word counts

🍙 lunch (headcanons)

🍷 wine (nsfw content)

🍰 snack (timestamps, imagines & drabbles)

🍌 thirsts (ramble with me about our smexy thoughts!) for the brainrots

PLEASE READ:

— this event is officially closed. my asks are only open for the previous anons who i’ve asked to do a redo for any mistakes/restrictions in their previous orders.

— new requests will no longer be accepted. or maybe it will because i’m easily swayed with great ideas but it will no longer be part of the milestone event.

— my writing schedule is only during wednesdays, fridays, and the weekends. some works will be written in advance and scheduled to post daily (if possible.)

— please be patient! as you can see, i’ve got a lot of requests, and i really want your meals to be as pleasing and delicious as possible, so please please be patient. i’m training for med school and i’ve got other responsibilities too. if you want to decline a request if you can’t wait for it, that’s fine. 

— i’m human so...my mind can change any minute, and i could no longer be interested in a certain idea. if that happens, i’ll reply to your ask that i won’t be serving your meal anymore even if it’s here on the list below. it sounds kind of rude, but i wouldn’t want to write something i’m not interested in for the sake of pleasing others, because if i write something i don’t enjoy/am not that interested in anymore, then the meal won’t turn out as good had i been passionate for it. it’s going to be done out of forced productivity and the food might taste bad :<

— the last batch of accepted meals will be marked as ✿

— favorites will be marked as ★. because they’re the ideas i find most interesting and the ones i adore the most, they will take longer to be completed. i really want to give my ultimate best on that and just UNLEASH everything i have in me.

how to order!

✦ choose from the ingredients below

✦ choose your own sugar and spice!

✦ choose from the meal guides above! please specify if you want your request to be

✦ send in your request by dropping it on my ask box!

✦ be as descriptive as you want in your request, i want to make a good meal for you!

✦ example of how to order: 

— breakfast: ingredient 9 + sugar 1 for gojo 

— alternative: 9+1+1+song (optional) + dialogue of choice (optional)

— alternative:  breakfast with wine: ingredient 9 + sugar 1 + spice 1 for gojo

— optional: ingredient 9 + sugar 1 + spice 1 for toji + cookie “starboy by the weeknd” and “you wanna fuck me so bad”

ingredients : au (max of 2 picks!)

CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE

✦ sugar daddy au

✦ arranged marriage au

✦ accidental pregnancy au

✦ high school au

✦ university au

✦ med! student au / doctor! au

✦ lawyer au

✦ detective au

✦ ceo au

✦ sugar mommy au

✦ neighbours au

✦ bed sharing au

✦ roommates au

✦ co-workers au

✦ body swap au

✦ soulmate au

✦ fake dating au 

✦ marriage for convenience au 

✦ bodyguard au

✦ assassin au

✦ married au 

✦ love triangle au

✦ mutual pining au

✦ unrequited love au

✦ meet drunk au

✦ meet cute au

✦ siblings’ friend au

✦ friend’s sibling au

✦ established relationship au

✦ breakup au

✦ barista au / coffee shop au

✦ teacher x student au

✦ royalty au

✦ rentboy au 

✦ camboy/camgirl au

✦ ex au

✦ mistaken identity

✦ fuck buddies au

✦ bartender au

✦ tattoo artist au

✦ apocalypse au

✦ playboy au

✦ stoner au

✦ love at first sight au

✦ hate sex au

✦ sleepover au

✦ worthy opponent au

✦ age gap au

✦ loss of virginity au

✦ gangster au

✦ mafia au

✦ bet au

✦ rebound au

✦ drunk hookup au 

✦ bad boy good girl au

✦ amnesia au

✦ reincarnation au

✦ one of them is famous 

✦ one of them doesn’t know the other exists

✦ one of them is oblivious 

✦ one of them is taken already 

✦ polar opposites au

✦ met at the subway au

✦ library au

✦ football player au

✦ canon au (jjk canon)

✦ send me your own au!

sugar: tropes (max of 2 picks!)

CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE

✦ best friends to lovers

✦ enemies to lovers

✦ lovers to enemies

✦ strangers to lovers

✦ mutual pining 

✦ unrequited love

✦ forbidden relationship

✦ partners in crime

✦ slow burn

✦ send me your own trope!

spice: (for nsfw requests) (max of 3 picks!)

CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE

— here are the kinks/sexual content i’m comfortable writing about. there’s still a lot of kinks idk about so if it’s not here, please feel free to include the spice in the ask!

✦ breeding kink

✦ size kink

✦ stockholm syndrome

✦ age play

✦ agoraphilia (public place kink)

✦ somnophilia (consensual sex where the other is asleep)

✦ breath play

✦ dumbification

✦ cum play

✦ begging kink

✦ praising kink

✦ thigh riding

✦ collaring

✦ face sitting

✦ 34+35

✦ dacryphilia

✦ disciplining

✦ dirty talking

✦ exhibitionism

✦ role playing

✦ gagging

✦ watersports

✦ send me your own kink!

cherry on top : characters

CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE

— characters i can write anything for (nsfw & sfw)

: gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, choso, noritoshi kamo, ryoumen sukuna, nanami kento, okkotsu yuta

— characters i can only write sfw for

: itadori yuuji, inumaki toge

— characters i want to write for but don’t think i can write well (nsfw & sfw)

: suguru geto, naoya zenin

— characters i’m MOST eager to write simp for

: fushiguro toji, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, choso, naoya zenin

additional cookie!

✦ send me a song as a story inspo!

✦ send me your dialogue! (ex. “shut up and kiss me.”)

restaraunt rules : please read!

— i do not write about yandere, stalker, pregnant! reader (unless it’s still until the early age where the belly is still small), non-con, and heavily canon requests 

— nsfw content i won’t write about: period sex, blood play, temperature play, pegging, male characters dressing up as female, monster fucking (sorry, sukuna won’t be getting four arms if you want nsfw for him), bestiality, incest, hypnosis (non-con related)

— not exactly a restriction, but please keep in mind that y/n is still a character for me as the writer. i may or may not add in features that even though isn’t explicit, could be something not suitable for everyone. phrases like, “he peered down at her” sounds neutral enough, but could still be implied that the reader is shorter than the anime character. it’s difficult to write a 100% neutral fic that won’t imply appearance one way or another. if i’ve written anything offensive/upsetting, feel free to tell me about it. i’ll do my best to keep it neutral.

— the reader will always be female bodied in nsfw content

— please be patient! i want to write fics the requester enjoys so i’m going to take my time in preparing your meal!

— i may or may not cook your meal 100% according to your request. depending on my comfort upon the idea, i may have to tweak a detail or two.

— i can refuse your request if i don’t want to write about it for personal or other reasons. i’ll let you know beforehand.

— wine will take longer to be served!

— i will announce if a trope/au/character is no longer open for requests. i feel like some ingredients will be quite common amongst requesters and i don’t want to write for the same thing over and over again. same goes in the manner that if you have a similar request to another, it’ll be fused into one idea/meal.

— if your request contains offensive/uncomfortable content, i won’t even respond back to you. i’ll immediately delete your ask.

— if you still don’t get or are confused by the guides, send me an ask! i’ll happily guide you!

— this event is now closed. i will temporarily be closing my ask box so i don’t get flooded. i’ll open it again tonight for anyone who has questions or just want to drop a message!

hmm...i’m still not sure how to order for my meal.

✧ what if the story/scenario i want isn’t included in the choices above?

— as i’ve stated, please feel free to request whatever you want! the choices are there to give people an idea what they’d like to see, but if it’s not there, you can still request for it as stated in the “send me an au/trope/kink you want!”

✧ what if i don’t have any ingredient, spice, or sugar i want but a song inspo anyway?

— that’s also fine, but it would be preferred if you’re descriptive so your meal could be delivered better and faster. in this case though, i’ll just have to get creative!

✧ what if i want more than one character in the request?

— having others included in the request is fine, but as much as possible, i can only write a maximum of two main characters (the reader excluded)

✧ what if i want to request for the ones you want to write for but you don’t think you can pull it off well?

— just a heads up! i would love to write for them, but because i’m not entirely caught up in the manga, the characters mentioned above aren’t ones i know very well yet. 

✧ not exactly regarding the meal, but i’ve sent you requests from last week. would you still be writing them?

— i’ve received several requests when my bio states that requests are closed. however, because the ideas are actually really precious and i know i’d have fun writing them, i’d still write about them. i just cannot guarantee you’ll receive your meal soon since my requests were closed when you sent them. 

UPDATES:

Day One: breeding kink, size kink, thigh riding, married au, best friends to lovers is NO LONGER AVAILABLE.

Day Two: established relationship au, mutual pining, dumbification, and gojo satoru is NO LONGER AVAILABLE. to the asks that were received before this update, you may check on the requests accepted whether you made it to the cut or not. i’ll update this later. the restaurant will also reach out to you if one of your requested ingredients/spice/sugar/cherry on top did not make the cut. my asks are still open, so please tweak your requests a little bit to what is available! 

Day Two Update 2: Restaurant is CLOSED! spice 6 (somnophilia) is also no longer available! Check the requests accepted to see if you’ve made the cut, the latest and last accepted requests will be marked as ✿! 

requests accepted:

✦ fushiguro megumi

megumi really likes reader and gojo, yuuji, nobara helps him confess

shy megumi who is really flustered and shy around his crush  meals fused into one. read here: not shy

★🥞🍷 40 (tattoo artist au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 2,12,13 (size kink, praise kink, thigh riding) + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy read here: work of art

(★🥞🍷 5 (university au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 12, 3 (praise kink, stockholm syndrome) + virgin megumi) i’ve been outlining this for days but idk...i just can’t seem to form something out of it. i still have it saved but idk if i can still finish, i’ll try my best though.   it’s just challenging to write, sorry :( MEAL UNAVAILABLE

🥞 + 33 (royalty au) + 1 (best friends to lovers)

🍷 + 27 (siblings’ friend au) + 1, 11, 19 (breeding kink, dumbification, dirty talking) + feral megumi (feral megumi supremacy) read here: unstoppable

🥞 + 3, 38 (accidental pregnancy, fuck buddies au) + childhood friends to lovers + baby moments with father! megumi MEAL ORDER 9 & 7 FUSED read here: happy little accidents

★ vampire au + 55 (reincarnation au) + 6 (somnophilia) + vampire markings + blood drinking + nursing megumi...or him nursing you? hmm? (STRUGGLE PAANIK) read here: scarlet

✿ 🍰🍷 23, 38 (mutual pining au, fuck buddies au) might fuse it with request 7  MEAL ORDER 9 & 7 FUSED read here: happy little accidents

✦ nanami kento

jealous nanami with oblivious reader + gojo annoying nanami making nanami confess read here: a little push

comfort & angst fic where reader dates gojo but gojo cheats so she breaks down, leaves him, and nanami comforts reader  it’s too difficult for me to write sorry :(

★🥞 + 33 (royalty au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) read here: violet

🥞🍷 + 21 (married au) +  4 (strangers to lovers) + 2, 12 (size kink, praising kink) MEAL U

🥞🍷 + 23 (mutual pining au) + 1 (best friends to lovers) + 1 (breeding kink) read here: like crashing waves

ingredient 6 (med! student au / doctor! au)  + sugar 7 (forbidden relationship) + spices 12 (praising kink) + dacryphilia read here: overtime

✦ noritoshi kamo

fem!dom reader where nori defends his wife from the elders so she gives him the best night + blowjobs + overstimulation + sub! househusband nori + tit sucking spspss (MEAL UNAVAILABLE)

🍷 + 18 (marriage for convenience au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 18 (disciplining)

🥞 + 21 (married au) + 1,13 (breeding kink, thigh riding) meals fused into one, breeding kink is no longer included | read here: i know

🥞🍷 + 20, 58 (assassin! reader, oblivious! noritoshi) + 13 (thigh riding) + love at first sight + “wait, are you flirting with me?” + “have been since the beginning, thanks for finally noticing.” (BIG BRAIN ENERGY) read here: illusion

✦ gojo satoru

serotonin boost for that lovely anon gojo simp 9487 (i’m going to make this special for you because i love you anon) i was thinking maybe gojo comforts his uni!student s/o? just fluff and some cutesy tootsy to relieve your stress! MEAL FUSED WITH SEVEN

Tokyo by Leat’eq + ice cream shop! au with limited cat themed ice cream, you need to wear cat ears to go order + “nyaa!” read here

🍷 + 44 (hate sex au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 12 (praising kink) read here: divine

🥞🍷  + 29 (established relationship au) + 5 (mutual pining) no longer included + 6 (somnophilia) + fused with other request that isn’t listed here read here: sweet angel

✿ 🥞🍷 + 29 (established relationship au) + 12,15 (praising kink, face sitting) + reader runs into awful ex and gets worshipped by gojo like they deserve (queen tingz) + gojo comfort read here: breathless

(✿ 🥞🍷 + 12 (bed sharing au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 19 (dirty talk) + magdalena bay : killshot + jujutsu tech goes on a trip, gojo and reader ends up sharing rooms and a twin bed)  i’ve been outlining this for days but idk...i just can’t seem to form something out of it. i still have it saved but idk if i can still finish, i’ll try my best though.   it’s just challenging to write, sorry :( MEAL UNAVAILABLE

★✿ 50,1 (mafia au, sugar daddy au) + spice 8,12 (dumbification, praising kink) wow butterfly anon POPPED OFF | read here: earned it

✿ 33 (royal au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 11 (praising kink) read here: fall from grace

✦ choso my MAN

Tokyo by Leat’eq + ice cream shop! au with limited cat themed ice cream, you need to wear cat ears to go order + “nyaa!” + flustered choso + “onii-chan” read here

★🥞 + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + optional wine read here: easy

soulmate au + forbidden relationship MEAL UNAVAILABLE

✦ inumaki toge

🥞 + 15 (body swap au) + 1 (best friends to lovers) read here: total opposites

🥞 + 10 (sugar mommy au) + 4 (strangers to lovers) BIG BRAIN ENERGY THIS ONE (STRUGGLE PAANIK)  it’s too difficult for me to write sorry :(

★🥞 + 64 (canon au) + 5 (mutual pining) + sensitive first kiss with inumaki, them trapped in a room + yuuji as matchmaker uwu + WALL PIN KISS YES SIR + basically hot af inumaki...debating whether i should turn into wine HMMM read here: delicate

✦ naoya zenin 🙄

naoya putting reader back in their place, LONG SCHLONG CLUB read here: acquainted

✿ deity au + virgin sacrifice for naoya + reader with worship kink (DAMN THIS ONE GOT ME TINGLING, its going to be consensual tho, we all have consent kink in this house) read here: true gift

✦ okkotsu yuta 

🍷 + 53 (bad boy good girl au) + 8,10 (dumbification) read here: good for you

★🥞🍷 + 65 (both are oblivious) + 5,9 (mutual pining, slow burn) + 6,9,16 (somnophilia, cum play, 34+35) MEAL UNAVAILABLE

✿ 🥞🍷 58, 65 (one of them is oblivious, hanahaki disease on reader) + 5,9 (mutual pining, slow burn) + 12 (praising kink + cockwarming) + clumsy first time sex MEAL UNAVAILABLE

✦ itadori yuuji 

🥞 + 21 (married au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) (STRUGGLE PAANIK) it’s too difficult for me to write sorry :( MEAL UNAVAILABLE

✦ toji fushiguro

★✿ toxic toji YES + enemies to greater enemies + toji railing reader in front of someone they’re seeing because he doesn’t want to see you happy but he doesn’t want to “keep” you either (LOL this is so toji, might tweak a little bit) read here: personal disaster

age gap au + size kink, somnophilia read here: shhh

✦ ryoumen sukuna

🥞 + 2 (arranged marriage) + 2 (enemies to lovers) read here: black magic

55 (reincarnation au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) no longer included + unrequited love + home from war inspired read here: home from war: the ending

✿ 🍷 + 38 + master x servant + degrading, edging, begging (oooh degrading aint my kink but let’s see let’s see) MEAL UNAVAILABLE

[ask-prime-starscream]

Now what? - The future of this blog

Currently I have five Alternate Universes float around in my head and maybe you’ll like them to come to life here? I plan fanart, comics and maybe some graphic novel style with art and written text. Please share your thoughts and opinions. <3 I. How to raise your sparkling - TFA AU

After Starscream got captured by the Elite Guard, they start to experiment with his CNA to create Autobots with flight ability. However, Starscream manages to free himself and out of spite he snatches the two protoforms right out of their incubator. But he doesn’t feel pleased with himself for long. On the run and with now two demanding sparklings craving his attention, killing Megatron and ruling the universe isn’t such an easy goal anymore...

II. Metroplex Asylum - IDW1/Cyberverse AU set after TAAO

Based on the scrapped idea for Starscream to return with amnesia, after his Quintesson form got destroyed. I would let this take place in the Cyberverse universe, but IDW1 provides so much better world building and consequences, so it’s set there. Windblade fights Vigilem alone in her own head until Starscream logs in to help. During the procedure, Vigilem manages to almost totally override Starscream’s brain-module which forces Airachnid to call a halt before it’s too late. She fries the unwelcome foreign pattern inside Starscream’s head, causing irreparable damage. When Starscream wakes up again - something they didn’t even hope for - he has only a fleeting grasp of some events (mostly early war), tends to terrible mood swings and is obsessed with Windblade, who feels responsible for him, but can’t handle his unfiltered feelings towards her. In the end they have no other choice, but to put the Chosen One, the leader of Cybertron, into an institution full with other bots with mental health issues. While Starscream bends over backwards to make sense of his surroundings and is generally at peace with himself, the past, present and future won’t stop haunting him.

III. Endless Utopia - IDW2 AU

I already started this comic until I put it on hiatus last year. However, I have nine pages in the making and plan to update this soon and hopefully at a faster pace. This AU is based on the idea of a “Nicescream”. Even though his life is more than complicated, he found his own little happiness. But pre-war Cybertron won’t leave him alone.

IV. Moon City - No specific universe with a pinch of Armada

Decades after the war between Autobots and Decepticons ended, earth is a mostly unhabitable place thanks to climate change and World War III. The only flicker of hope for the average human survivor is Moon City, a base built on the moon with artificial atmosphere and Cybertronian technology. While it provides a life in luxury and first of all health, not everyone can enter and the cost of living is sky high. Alexis Thi Dang got the grades to be accepted at the Moon City Academy, but scrapping the money together to keep studying is a daily struggle. Desperately searching on the network for ways to get benefits, she stumbles over the possible solution: In this city of the future, humans who are partnered to a Cybertronian are extremely privileged. Especially the winners of the war, the Autobots, are highly demanded partners. The Council of Humanity even runs a secret project to create a techno-organic mix-race which is supposed to be the answer to the new living conditions in space and possible colonies in foreign atmospheres. Anybody contributing to this goal has their place in Moon City ensured. Alexis however, is among the population just an average Jane, so she cannot even dream of finding a Cybertronian who wants to hook up with a human. Therefore she surfs the dark net and finds a fishy organization willing to provide her a partner... Starscream is on the run since the war ended and hides in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter where he scratches together all the energon he can find. One day he gets roused by humans searching for the same... and Cybertronian spare parts. Barely able to flee, he looks for a safe haven and meets Swindle who is into some not so legal businesses and makes Starscream some not so confidence-inspiring promises to smuggle him into Moon City, the only place of Cybertronian standards he can reach for now. Desperate, Starscream agrees... and gets paired up with Alexis. The beginning of a “wonderful” partnership.

V. Starscream the Movie - No specific universe

I once wanted to create a canon divergent Bumble Bee the Movie fic. This was born out of the idea that both Bee and Starscream are stranded on earth, but I rewrote the whole thing into basically “What could a movie about Starscream look like?” So, we got everything. His creation, his place among the Decepticons, his relationship with Megatron and of course his flock, Skywarp, Thundercracker, Slipstream... a benevolent doctor called Knock Out and the joys of being a giant robot thrashing planets with primitive species and Autobots trying to protect them.  Starscream’s winning streak goes to his head though and results in his fall from grace. He is basically degraded to hunt down insignificant Autobot bases and his first target is Bee on earth. This is probably my most ambitious project and that’s why I can’t reveal too much.

(VI. A forgotten grave - IDW1)

Short comic about Megatron who wants to meet Starscream one last time before his execution. Based on this:

Q: How did the LL crew - specifically Megatron - react to the deaths of Optimus, Soundwave, and Starscream? 

A: Let's specifically focus on Megatron - he would've been conflicted about all three. Would've been most cut up over Starscream's death, because there was a lot of unfinished business between him and Starscream, and the reformed pacifist Megatron never got to meet Starscream. That probably eats away at him. Closely followed by Optimus. Would've been incredibly interested in what Soundwave had done and would've been proud of him. Imagine he would have been bitterly affected by all three deaths in slightly different ways.

While Megatron shows NEVER any regret about how he treated Starscream in the comics, I’ll just take this word of god here and do something with it.

---

Well then. Any thoughts? ;D

[buck-nialled]

Raul Mendes- Setting: recovering from illness/ bookshop au+ Trope: Mutual Pining + Sentence: “I’m gonna lay down and die for like a half hour okay?

NOTE: Thanks for the submission anon! I’m not sure if reading a 5k word angst and possibly crying was on your agenda for today but I would prepare yourself just in case. Anybody who is interested can click HERE to see all prompts and send your own combo to my inbox!

Also, there will most likely be a part 2 to this story but some extra motivation never hurt. Let me know what you think of it by leaving me a message or reply :)

SETTING: recovering from an illness

AU: bookshop

TROPE: mutual pining

SENTENCE: “I’m gonna lay down and die for half an hour, okay?”

Necessary - R. Mendes Imagine

The air in the office was thick in its pressure and so was Raul’s hold on his wife’s left hand. His gaze was trying to steady on the lustrous ring encircling her fourth finger, but he could not stop the wandering of his pupils to the navy carpet below them. How many tears have been shed in this room, he speculates? As if he could see recognizable marks on the floor he begins counting up in his head, keeping his eyes transfixed on one spot. When he reached his age, twenty-three, the sound of the heavy mahogany door opening halted his counting. His pupils targeted the manilla folder secure in the doctor’s hand.

“Thank you both for your patience, we just got the final results back from your physical exams.” The white-coated man spares what could hardly be considered a smile while pulling his chair out to take a seat before the couple. Raul’s eyes flickered over to the woman sat to his right, whose chest was increasing in its rise and falls the longer the doctor took to share the reports. “So, I am here to report that we did find a reason for your pregnancy problem. But it—”

“I knew it!” The despairing wail draws both men away from the conversation and to Raul’s wife. With her other hand coming to sustain her lurched head, she continues moaning hopelessly. “I’m infertile, aren’t I? My great aunt suffered it and now it’s passed down the bloodline to me.” Raul’s brows furrowed, unbeknownst to any of the information his spouse began spewing. She continued to elicit helpless whimpers as Raul scooted his seat closer and wound his arms around her for a supportive embrace. Insecurity took over the complete function of her arm’s as she curled into herself, allowing her forearms to press defiantly against her husband’s chest.

“Actually, Mrs. Mendes…your test results say that you are in perfect condition.” Immediately the head on Raul’s shoulder lifted itself to reveal trembling lips and glossy eyes.

“W-what?” The woman croaks in disbelief, eyes glancing back and forth between the consultant and her partner. Raul tried hard to spare a smile when he pushed the loose tendrils of her hair back with his hand. But knowing his wife was in good condition given all the warning that he was not in the same boat.

“Your charts are above average in health, longevity, and fertility.” Raul’s hand drops from his wife’s scalp in exchange for his own. He bows his head and combs through the dark locks while his wife sat frozen in her chair beside him.

“So…” She began.

“So, it’s me.” Raul tossed his head back, sinking into the uncomfortably stuffed backing of the seat. “I’ve got the broken parts. Is that it?” His voice morphs into something sharp at the end, earning his wife’s hand to run soothingly up and down his bicep. The doctor heaves a breath and flips through the stack of sheets at his disposal.

“Mr. Mendes your test results for the physical we ran reports your sperm to highly infertile.”

“B-but that’s impossible!” His wife cuts in. “Doctor, don’t get me wrong I appreciate your work. But as his wife, I can testify that it’s fine. It looks and comes out the same as anybody else’s.” His spouse’s arguing leaves Raul red-cheeked and tensed in his chair. He grinds his teeth together and clenches his eyes shut as the heavy feeling he had been suffering in his genitals for the last month decided to make a return.

“Well many infertile men can have sperm that appears healthy or ejaculate a normal amount. But sometimes it goes deeper, which is why we run these tests. There is another effect of your infertility, Mr. Mendes. Do you recall the PET scan you did yesterday?” The sinking feeling is transported to Raul’s stomach and his downstairs area feels more bloated than ever. The doctor’s words and his wife’s blubbering entered his ears seconds later and sounded miles further than he recalls them being. They echoed through his head while the swollen ache rattled through his scrotum and when he finally unpeeled his eyelids to see the tower of pamphlets and resources the doctor suggested he look into, his eyelids drooped in shame. He craned his neck over to study his wife, sobbing woefully into the tissue and trying to convince the room (but mainly herself) that this was all a mistake.

_______________________________________________

The bell above Raul’s head jingled as he entered the bookstore just a ten-minute walk from the mechanic shop he owned. Returning from the doctor’s appointment and dropping his silent, ruminating spouse back at her home helped Raul to make the decision that nobody else in his life should be downtrodden. Therefore, he tells the employees of the shop that his appointment went fine, replaced the thought of the tumors spreading from his abdomen with oil changes and appointment times. But he figured, if he was desperate to keep the façade of his tip-top shape health, he needed to be determined to play the part and cover his bases.

“Welcome to Pickering Press Books. How are you doing today?” Raul glances over to the merry young woman, perched behind the desk. It was lighter than the mahogany wood his fingernails were digging into an hour prior, a reminder for him to burn all of his dark wood furniture when he arrived back to his house. The associate’s smile was sincere and held a glint Raul cannot remember being witness to since months after tying the knot with his partner. A breath of fresh air could not even compare to the woman’s locks, bouncing with each step she took to exit that side of the desk with a stack of books balanced flawlessly in her hands.

“I’m alright...” Raul continues his slow strides into the vicinity, trying to keep a subtle distance away from the woman as he observed her, restocking books. As if feeling his eyes trained on her crouching position, she heaves herself up from one of the lower shelves and pivots on her feat, nearly running into the man.

Raul brings the sleeve of his leather jacket to cover his mouth as he clears his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s okay.” Her berry lips quirked at the corners, curious eyes staying trained on his. “I don’t recognize you. Is it your first time here?” Raul nods, keeping his lips sealed. The man did not take pleasure in too much chatter, but this woman’s voice was so soothing, Raul would not hesitate to take the sound down his throat like a warm cup of tea. He wanted the sweet lull of her syllables to coat his insides and drown his every woe in the summer breeze of her whisper.

“Was there anything, in particular, I could help you find?” She raised her hands now free of books to gesture around the vicinity and all of its stocked shelves. Each label and sign were overwhelming to Raul, as he was never a person who enjoyed reading.

“Do you have a medical section?”

_______________________________________________

Thirty minutes later and Raul was on the floor. The medical section was tucked in one of the back corners and surprisingly vast in its options. Stacks upon stacks of books on testicular cancer were scattered around Raul’s pounding head. He grabbed and skimmed through so many that the tiny summaries of information were becoming jumbled in his mind. One of his arms, which was shielding his eyes jolted down at the sound of a gasp and a light kick to one of his shoes. More and more patrons exited the library with the jingling bell to bid them goodnight. The woman from earlier rounded the corner from where Raul’s feet were poking out and laid a relieved hand on her chest, seeing his eyes open and alert.

“Couldn’t find what you were looking for?” She crossed both her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows at him in a teasing manner.

“Oh no, I did.” He remarked and rolled his eyes to survey all of the piles of literature that surrounded him. “There’s just way too many. I don’t know which to pick. So, if it’s alright with you, I’m gonna lay down and die for like half an hour, okay?” With that, he returned to his original position, cloaking his eyes from the ceiling lights and releasing a heavy breath. Small patters that could only be the woman’s footsteps enter his ears. They range in volume and he catches a whiff of perfume when she is that close to picking up one of the many options Raul is undecided on.

As she crouches down to retrieve a book near his hip, she inspects his hand. Small inked masterpieces were just exiting the sleeve of his jacket, and her eyes made a trail out of his veins and prominent knuckles. Her gaze stopped and gauged the silver band on his fourth finger, a clear sign from the universe to quit ogling this chiseled masterpiece of a stranger and continue her duties. She resumed, silently filling the blank slots on the shelves with their respective book and finally came across one Raul never picked up. She craned her head to eye the clock, knowing half an hour was nearly up. But she waited the last two minutes and thirty-seven seconds for him anyway, allowing the silence to be the perfect background noise as she skimmed the black and yellow book with a confident feeling swarming her chest.

“Alright mister,” she peers at the clock again, then turns back to him, “your thirty minutes of dying are up.” He stays still, though, showing no signs of movement or waking If he did happen to fall asleep.

“Hello? Sir?” The young woman’s heart rate began picking up when no sound came from him. She crouches down immediately and shook his shoulder, but to no avail.

“Oh no, no no no…” she repeats, grabbing his wrist to feel for a pulse. Slowly she bends her form down further to rest her cheek on his chest. Her shaking fingers worked quick kneads into his wrist, desperate to find any pulsating below the skin. She inhales the scent of his refreshing cologne as panic began to consume her.

“Boo!” Raul’s deep voice bellows as he sprung up from his splayed position. A petrified squeal leaves the woman as she sits up, chest heaving.

“Did I get you?” Raul grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. All the associate can manage is scoff and the shake of her head. As much as she hated the ache in her jaw from trying to hide the smile, she was determined to show the man she was aggravated.

“You know I thought it’d be insulting to recommend this book, but it suits you.” She grabs the black and yellow book she set down nearby the two and shoots her harm out toward him, voice still shaky from the scare. Hesitantly, Raul grabs it and reads the cover: Testicular Cancer for Dummies.

“I’m sorry,” He said. The girl picks herself up from the floor and Raul is quick to do the same. She reproaches the desk, trying to compose herself as the sound of heavy boots follows her the entire way. “I just…I haven’t got to have fun in a while. Didn’t think I would scare you too bad. Honestly, I thought you were gonna lock up and forget about me.” He chuckles, setting down the book on the wooden slab. The lady took it, ran the barcode over the reader, and places it back down. As she began typing on the computer’s keyboard, she replied.

“Honestly, I wanted to.” One of her hands gripped the mouse and clicked spots on the monitor Raul could not see. “You seemed peaceful…like you haven’t gotten good sleep in a while.” She shares, now unabashed in her observations after nearly calling 9-1-1 for the man, who did not appear to look or act much older than she did. “But if I did, my boss would probably murder me.” She nervously chuckled and Raul thought her smile fell all too soon when she continued. “I also wouldn’t want your wife wondering where you were all night.”

Raul blinked, taking a moment to process her words. When his lips separated to give an explanation—what explanation? He has a wife and a ring to prove it. There was nothing else to be said. She says a string of numbers Raul did not remember, cueing the man to fish around in his pocket for the card.

“Here you go.” He said, reaching over the counter with the small piece of plastic. She took it with a grateful smile and studied it for a moment, then chuckled to yourself.

“What?” Raul muttered. She flipped it around to reveal a less than attractive photo of the man, dating years back. He was slightly envious of the woman’s youthful glow in comparison to his sunken one. Even more humiliating was the fact they couldn’t be more than two years apart in age. Guess this is what marrying young does to you, Raul thinks to himself.

“Unfortunately, you can’t pay with your ID.” More giggles surround the two of them while Raul just shook his head and took the card back. He apologized and handed her his debit card the second time, realizing the thirty-minute nap did little to help his exhaustion. When she asked, he politely declined the receipt and shook his hand in protest.

“Alrighty, you are free to go, Mr. Mendes.” The doctor’s voice from hours earlier comes to mind. He pictured the white-coated figure using the same title, his wife’s bemoaning, and the swollen feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Just…Raul is fine.” He breathed out, taking the book from her outstretched hand.

“Okay. Then happy birthday, Raul.” He almost asks, but then remembered the mishap with his ID. He sent a fond nod in her direction.

“You might see me back here soon, dying on the floor again.” He winks. An uninvited scarlet painted the woman’s cheeks.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

_______________________________________________

Weeks have passed since the recent diagnosis of Raul’s groin pain. The man was surprised to find how easily he accepted the news and instructions to research. Nights out of the auto shop were spent on his computer, scouring articles on nearby treatment centers. He had memorized the steps of exiling the tumors and could explain the process verbatim to what the medical association had published online. The prices seemed to be the only—hefty—roadblock in his path. Well, and his wife still amidst her processing.

Raul never would think the person he shares a bed with at night would also come to share the littlest conversation. Since their physical, the only words the married couple seem to exchange is pillow talk and the occasional “good morning”. This is not to say he has lost all effort in seeking her opinion on the topic because he has tried countless times to do so. However, he remains fruitless in each attempt to get a word out of her. He recalls what the doctor said before the two left the appointment that day, and how he whispered into Raul’s ear about giving her time. “Seeing the one you love most in pain, is more painful than going through it yourself.”

Raul kept twiddling his thumbs, awaiting an opinion rather than a full plate of dinner in the microwave when he entered his front door late at night. The chicken she cooked tasted blander, and the tomato sauce on her pasta wasn’t quite right when it danced across the spores of his tongue. Within less than a month his agenda has been off-kilter and inconsistent in every way possible. Except for one.

He remained going back to the bookstore as promised. To his fortune, he even discovered the associate’s name to be Y/N. In his opinion, it sounded much better on his tongue than the raucous holler he spooked her with one night. He specifically apologized for that incident again the second time he visited her on his lunch break. The third time he stopped by, he slept in the same corner he scared her in and dreamt peaceful things. Raul was convinced it was the newfound stress and not the bed he crawled into and woke up with empty arms in every morning that made the carpet feel that much more heavenly of a resting place.

This particular afternoon, he was curious at the new deli which opened beside the bookstore. Raul did not take long to commit to the trip over when he discovered the chicken salad sandwich was on their menu. As he waltzed over though, his feet carried him over to the vicinity residing left of the restaurant instead. He knew it was not the time for meandering in Pickering Press again but when he is greeted by Y/N’s beacon of a smile every one of his complaints was whisked away by Canada’s breezes and out of the door.

“What can I do for you today? Another book on mechanics?”

That was the excuse Raul always used on his prior visits to the shop. But it isn’t like he needs justification for entering a public area he is welcome to roam. The man even asked himself after his last visit, when the jingle of the bell alerted his exit and the new weight of a book about repairing cars in his hand: why is an excuse to do anything else but say “hello” necessary? There was nothing wrong about it. It was time to be straight-forward Raul decided right then.

“Just wanted to say hello. I was going to get lunch at the place next door, and figured I’d stop by.” He leans down, setting his arms against the wooden counter. Y/N smiled at the considerate man before her and laid a hand against her heart. “That’s…very sweet of you, Raul, thank you.” Though the most intimate she had been with the man is check for his pulse when he played possum on the bookstore’s carpet, she always felt like she was pushing the boundaries of their “friendship”. She doesn’t want to label it anything yet, really, but that is just how it appeared in her eyes. How Raul pictured the two of them is still a riddle impossible for her to solve. Judging by the silver band still present on his fourth finger, even having a friendship of sorts would be pushing it.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The rumbling of brisk steps against the floor made the two look away from one another with red cheeks, and to the small boy instead. Raul tilted his head slightly, finding resemblance of Y/N and the young child. The shape of their eyes is uncanny and the boy’s hair is only a few shades darker than the woman’s. “Have we gotten anything yet?” He drums his flat palms furiously against the wood and uses the desk as leverage to bounce himself up and down. It only leaves Y/N in giggles and quietly scolds for him to keep his voice low.

“We’ve made some progress.” The girl shrugs, trying a merry tone and gesturing to a small jar present beside the register with her hand. It was without a lid and had a sticky note with big bold letters written on it: Jace’s Toronto Fund.

From Raul’s vantage, he caught glimpse of the scant change and lack of any colorful bills to fill the cup. And from the small boy’s pouted lips, it was clear he was seeing the same. His small hand reached for the jar and took it in his hold to inspect with a pessimistic grumble of “kissing the trip goodbye”. Y/N spared him a sympathetic stare, and Raul glanced at Y/N with the same expression.

“The payment isn’t due for another two months.” She reaches over the desk to lay a hand on the young boy’s shoulder. “We’ll get there.” Her comforting words only did so much to fix the boy’s frown. The child notices Raul at that moment and abruptly turns to face him.

“Hey mister, do you have money?”

“JACE!” Y/N hisses, lightly hitting his shoulder and shaking her head in disdain at him. Raul chuckles understandingly and is reaching for his back pocket while Y/N is encouraging the boy to apologize.

“No, don’t worry about it. I get it.” Raul is unfolding the leather wallet before Y/N has a chance to interrupt him. As he retrieves a crisp twenty-dollar bill and hands it to who he assumes is Jace, he delivers a shrug in Y/N’s direction. “I’ve got enough books to finish reading anyways.”

“Thank you! Have you ever been to Toronto?” Jace looks up into Raul’s eyes, a wide grin and even wider eyes displaying his gratitude for the donation. Raul shakes his head.

“No, actually.” He crouched down. “I had two brothers in the same grade as when my school hosted the same trip, but it was a lot so we never ended up going.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”  

“Ah, don’t be.” Raul waves his hand. “At least I’m helping somebody go. Hey, make sure to bring me back a postcard.”

“I will. I promise!” He swears with a violent nod of his head. He sticks his first donated bill in the jar and quickly waves to Y/N, telling her he would “see her later”.

“Thank you. That really wasn’t necessary.”

“Like I said, it’s nice to help out. Every kid deserves to go on a trip like that.” He stuffs his wallet back into his pocket with a fond smile. “How do you know him?”

“He’s my little brother. But like I said,” she digs her hand into the jar,  removes the bill, and slides it back to Raul across the desk, “It isn’t necessary. Take it. I can replace it later.”

Raul hums, eyeing the green slip. It was tempting, mostly because money was the one department he’d seemed to be lacking in recently. But if there was a chance these future appointments or surgeries did not reach their end goal, he found it better to know that Jace’s hopes of walking the Toronto streets would.

“No,” Raul says simply and stuffs the bill back into its rightful place. This elicits a scoff from Y/N who is now bending down to dig through her bag beneath the desk.

“Fine.” She pops back up, a wallet now in her clutch. “Then you can take this and go buy yourself that lunch.” She slides her own bill over, identical to the one Raul refused to take back.

“Y/N…” He begins shaking his head.

“Raul, take it or your dying privileges will no longer apply here.” This was the heaviest bargaining she had ever done with a customer, and it was not even over a potential book purchase. Raul blew out a breath, honey eyes flickering up to hers.

“Wow, really playing that card, huh?” She keeps her expression stiff and unchanging, eventually coming out victorious when Raul takes the bill with a breathy “fine.”

“I gotta go now and get back to the shop. But I’ll be back soon.” He saluted Y/N with a kind smile.

“For me to help you find another book on cars?” She crosses both of her arms over her chest and lifts two curious brows.

“Well, mainly for Jace’s postcard. But sure, that’ll work too.” He wasn’t sure if it was the comment or the wink he gifted her afterward that made her lips part in such astonishment. He hoped it was a healthy mix of both because it had been far too long since Raul had a relationship this youthful. The carefree aspect almost felt foreign at first, but now he found himself craving for it. When he exited the shop, Y/N decided to finally restock the line of books on the cart which had been staring her down since the beginning of her shift. It was only when she returned to her desk that the white paper bag with the deli’s name and logo caught her attention. Skeptically her eyes glazed across the bag as her hand reached up to unfold the top.

The chocolate chip cookie staring up at her when she peeked inside the bag made her scoff and lean back into her chest. The sender made himself all too obvious at that point, but when she reached to pick up the wrapped treat, her eyes spotted the napkin where he ensured to make himself known in blue-inked scribbles.

Trust me, it’s necessary

-           Raul

(p.s. I hope this doesn’t revoke my privileges)

_______________________________________________

After scarfing down his chicken salad sandwich in his hasty walk, he crumpled the wrapper and tossed it to the trash can beside the entrance to the shop. He tries calling out for one of the general managers, Connor when a familiar string of giggles catches his attention. Hesitantly, he strolls to Connor’s small office space, where he was sat in his spinning chair. Raul was surprised to find his wife sat directly across from him, a smile that had been absent around Raul for the last three weeks now adorning her face. When he caught their attention, it fell immediately.

“Hey, man.” Connor stood, patting Raul’s back.

“Hey…” he says slowly, eyes drifting from the employee to the woman still seated.

“What’re you doing—”

“She told me what’s going on. Raul, I’m so sorry.” Connor looks over at Raul sorrowfully, and back to Raul’s spouse. She was seated with one leg crossed over the other and didn’t dare to look up at either of the men.

“T-told you?” Raul blinks in befuddlement. “About…”

“The cancer,” Connor whispers, as though It is a secret Raul was unaware of until now. “It took my uncle a few years back…I know how hard this must be.” Connor continued his explanation, but Raul’s eyes remain transfixed on his partner's scalp while she gazes at the floor.

“I came to bring you lunch.” She quips, voice low. “But you were out, and-and I thought he knew…” she speaks slowly, eyes pooling with guilt like a dog preparing for a wiggling finger in his face and harsh reprimands. Raul only nods, slowly licking his lips. “I should be going back to work now…” she decides, lifting her frame off of the chair. “See you later.” Is all she musters, sparing a glance to Connor before breezing past her husband and out of the front door entirely.

“Well I’ve got an appointment in an oil change for five minutes, so I’m going to get that set up.” Raul’s brows furrow at Connor’s escape from the area and to the front desk. Raul shakes his head back and forth before wandering over to his own office and shutting the door behind him. He presses his forehead to the cold surface and sighs blissfully as it attacks the forming migraine he was suffering. When he finally turns to face his desk, the aches in his temples increase ten-fold by the sight of the lunch bag his wife always carries his food in lacking from the room entirely.

_______________________________________________

He slid out of his black shoes upon entry and was careful to shut the door quietly behind him. After he locked it, the corner of his eyes caught sight of the small glow of the kitchen light. He shuffled into the room, spotting his wife leaning on the island with a glass of red wine, nearly empty beside her. Without glancing up, she began chuckling bitterly.

“Figured since there’s no reason to not drink anymore, might as well.” Her voice sounded stretched, like a taut rubber band prepared to snap.

“How long have you been showing symptoms?” She mumbles, fingers drumming against the countertop. The tension from the doctor’s office seemed to follow them home and multiply. At this point, the man felt the suffocation of his wife’s torment creeping up his throat.

“How long, Raul?” The question comes out as a growl this time.

“I…I didn’t…I thought it was nothing.”

“So you just decided to do nothing about it? You just decided not to tell me?” The steep incline in her voice was something Raul was unprepared for. “We’re supposed to be a team, Raul! I could have helped you!” The drastic swing in her temper compared to this afternoon stunned him.

“I didn’t know I needed helping until a few weeks ago.” His voice rose alongside hers, teetering on the fence of talking brashly or screaming quietly. He huffed and set the book on the table. “And look what I’m doing! I’ve accepted my mistakes. I went and started doing my research.”

“Which you should’ve been doing.” She bites, moving her grip to the neck of the wine bottle.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal! I thought it was normal!” He defends, tossing his arms in the air. “And-and what have you been doing, huh? All you’ve done is go off and tell people without even asking what I think.”

“I only told Connor because…because it’s hard to keep this in the dark Raul! I mean I feel like somebody needs to know. He’s one of your closest friends.”

“He’s hardly a close friend to me. What gave you that idea? And did you ever think you’d want to talk to me about my cancer first before going behind my back and stewing it over with Connor? Connor?” The fact that he was the person she approached about the topic is still appalling him. “And every time I asked what you think we should do you say you’re thinking. Thinking—thinking about what—what’s taking so long to think about? I’ve done my thinking already and frankly I think it should be me having a drink right now.

“I’ve been thinking what the next step to take is Raul!” Her sharp eyes lined with his, brimmed with tears and a wobbling frown. He knows all too well she didn’t mean steps to solving his adversity.

“The next step? We can still have kids—”

“Not like we wanted to.”

“Hold on, hold on.” He demands, waving his hands. “Do you remember what mattered before kids became an issue? What happened to the vows where we said we loved each other a million different ways? What happened to the promise to be with each other forever. What-what happened to “in sickness and in health”, huh? Where is that?” His rushed interrogation has his spouse falling silent. Her knuckles remained white, unrelenting on the wine glass and that is when Raul notices the absence of the ring on her finger. Besides the book, the sheet of papers asking for his signature introduce themselves to his eyes.

“I think we should get a divorce.”

[the-irish-mayhem]

I don’t know if there are AU fics there about Thor meeting Jane in Asgard instead of his mom in Endgame but... could you write if there are none? Love your writing style btw

I started this in quarantine last April, and here I am a year later finishing it. ANGST AHOY. (and thank youuuuuuuu!)

She’s more beautiful than he remembered. He sees her from behind at first, her small frame swathed in a simple, blue wrap gown. She’s folding her clothes from Midgard, hands deft. She misses Rocket darting behind the small lounge, syringe in hand. 

Thor steps fully into the room, and she must hear him. She calls out, “No, I don’t need any help with my clothing, but thank you for the offer.”

He can’t immediately speak. He means to say something, he... he must’ve had a plan before Rocket shoved him through this doorway? Surely, he’d thought of something clever and suave and charming, something that he would’ve said to her when they’d been together and he could make her laugh. Something he would’ve said before--

Before.

Then she turns and--Norns, she is beautiful.

“Oh, Thor,” she says, and then she smiles. “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.”

His tongue feels thick in his mouth. “Y-you-you, uh--” He swallows and tries again. “You don’t have to apologize. For anything. Ever.”

Her brow furrows. “Hey, are you okay?” She’d always known him so well, hadn’t she? And he’d just--allowed her to slip away. Over two years of living together, years of loving and being loved, and he’d just--

“Thor, what’s wrong?” The sheer concern in her voice as she sets her folded clothing down makes his knees feel weak. Then she’s walking towards him and he doesn’t feel prepared for this moment at all.

Norns, he’d made such a mess of everything, and then he’d never gotten a chance to fix it.

She seems to realize at that moment that he’s not the Thor she knows, and she freezes halfway to him. There’s a small, needy part of him that wants to reach out to her, just feel her touch one more time to remind him of a time before his failure so catastrophically rocked the universe.

The other part, that knows he is on a mission and needs to do this in order to succeed, tries to come up with an excuse or a plan. He had one before he walked in, certainly.

“You--” Jane draws back, adopting a tentative, novice defensive stance, “--are not Thor.”

That’s an easy enough answer. “Well, yes, yes I am.”

Her eyes narrow. “Mm, no. Last I saw him, Thor’s beard was shorter. His hair wasn’t, uh--” She glances at the top of his head, “--that. One of your eyes is brown.” She looks down at him. “If you’re Thor, then where’s your armor?”

“Um. Not. On?”

“Yeah, consider me unconvinced. If you’re Thor,” a clever smile dawns on her face, like she’s just solved a long series of complex equations, “then call Mjolnir.”

“Oh.” He’d somehow forgotten that at this time, he still had Mjolnir. He still had his honor, his courage, his--

He’d been worthy, at this time.

“Jane, that’s--I just--” Thor sees Rocket moving behind her, his arm cocked back and ready to take the infinity stone that flows through her veins. “Rocket, wait!”

Jane’s eyes widen, and she whirls around and screams, “What the fuck is that?”

“Thor, come on!” Rocket exclaims.

“Jane,” he says again, “Please just trust me. We need your help.”

She backs away slowly, trying to keep both Thor and Rocket, with his arm still poised to stab, in her sights.

“That’s a talking raccoon,” she breathes. “I’m talking to a raccoon on an alien planet.”

Rocket protests, but Thor cuts him off. “Jane, please.”

“We need to borrow the Aether for like two seconds,” Rocket says. “The fate of the universe kind of depends on it.”

“Someone better explain to me what the hell is going on and fast,” she says, voice raising to nearly a shout, “or you will not like what happens!”

Thor notices the molecular red and black swirling at her fingertips and in her eyes. If she stays this stressed, she’s liable to explode on them. That might knock her unconscious, and while that might make their task in stealing the Aether from her easier, but he can’t stomach the thought of doing that to her.

“Jane, listen to me,” he says, voice soft, falling back into a familiar pattern of calming her down when she’s upset. “I am Thor, but... not the one you know.” He desperately wants to reach out to her, as was his way when they were together, but he holds himself back. “I promise I am not deceiving you. I know that you cannot carry a tune when you sing in the shower, but you do it anyway. You graduated summa cum laude from Culver and got your first doctorate before you were twenty-two, and you always wondered if you should’ve slowed down to enjoy university life more. You always chew the end of your pen or pencil when you’re working. We had dinner with your mother every other weekend--” He winces a little at that mention. "That--um. I guess that hasn’t... happened yet.”

He sees wheels turning behind her eyes, and there’s something easy here between them, a familiar thread of trust that feels all too good for Thor to pick up again. Her brow furrows slightly as her incredible mind works, and her bottom lip ends up between her teeth.

“You’re saying this is time travel,” she says, matter-of-fact. Like she’s positing a hypothesis with Tony or Darcy in the lab.

He’s missed this. He’s missed her. Norns, has he missed her.

“Oh my god,” Jane breathes, “Time travel.” A massive grin spreads across her face. “It’s possible; I knew it!” Her eyes are alight and Thor is struck with another stab of longing. She’s standing right in front of her and yet he misses her so fiercely. “Tell me everything. How did I do it? I’ve only got some rough schematics drawn up of a wormhole generator, but I bet that’s how it was done. Ha!” She pumps a fist in a small victory motion.

“We’re wasting time, here, loverboy,” Rocket interrupts, his small claws wrapped a little too eagerly around the syringe meant to transport the stone.

“Rocket, shut up,” Thor growls.

She steps closer to him, her eagerness for knowledge shining from her face like a light. “How’d we compensate for the energy? Ooh, and how are you planning on returning to your timeline? Do you have some sort of recall device? How is that powered? Or is it like a yo-yo type of device which sends you for a certain amount of time and then calls you back automatically? That would make sense for why your raccoon friend is in such a hurry.” Her eyes widen a little. “That seems like something I’d do. It would probably be beyond the scope of our capabilities to make a power cell small enough to carry on your person, depending on when you guys came from--”

It comes out of him like pus from lancing an infected wound: “You didn’t do it.”

It breaks his heart a little bit to see her imagination come to a grinding halt, to see the shock and disappointment flood across her features. “I... I didn’t?”

Tears prickle at the back of his eyes. “No. You... no.”

“Oh,” she breathes. He can see her visibly shrink, shoulders caving in and her previous exuberance extinguishing like a snuffed candle.

His chest hurts. He wants to hold her.

“I’m sorry.” His voice cracks.

“Oh,” she says again, a different note to it this time. “Am I, um... you know. Dead?”

It feels like a punch to the stomach to hear her say it. He can’t voice it out loud. He’d seen her name on the list of known Avengers asset casualties. Her name was chiseled into stone on the Lost Monument in London. He’d only visited in a fit of drunken self-flagellation one time, and once had been more than enough.

Apparently he doesn’t need to say it. Even without years together under her belt, he’s never been particularly subtle nor she particularly obtuse.

“I see,” is all she says, her arms crossing over her chest, one hand coming up to her chin. Her thumb taps her lower lip once. Twice. “How did I die? Old age?” She winces a little. “Something sooner than that?”

Thor’s tongue sits thick in his mouth.

“A bad guy snapped his fingers and killed half the universe,” Rocket says, impatient with Thor’s inability to communicate. “You were part of the unlucky half.”

Jane’s eyes widen. “Snapped... his fingers.”

“Yes,” Rocket grits, “and if we don’t borrow the Aether we won’t be able to bring any of those people back, so if you don’t mind--”

She’s already offering her arm before he finishes his sentence. “Take it. It’s killing me anyway, although--” Jane lets out a harsh chuckle, “--if you’re from a future where I’m killed by a finger-snapping psycho-killer, then I guess I won’t die from this, at least.”

Rocket smiles at Jane and then sends a seething look Thor’s way. “See, Thor, how efficient a little cooperation can make things?”

For how much they struggled with fixing Jane’s Aether affliction in this timeline, it’s almost trivially easy for Rocket to jab the needle into Jane and take the stone. The syringe is specially crafted to draw in and store this particularly finicky stone, but it goes off without a hitch, and when Rocket withdraws the needle, Jane simply covers her now bleeding arm with a hand.

Rocket thanks her, the caustic raccoon strangely polite now that he’s realized what kind of person Jane is, and turns to Thor.

“Time to jet, big boy,” he says.

“Wait,” Thor says, impulse overriding any other judgements, “give me a moment.”

Rocket sighs, and glancing between Jane and Thor, he seems to understand. Given the chance, Thor knows Rocket would want to talk to his family that he lost. Thankfully, it looks like he will afford Thor the same courtesy.

“A moment,” Rocket echoes, a not-so-subtle reminder that they cannot stay here in the safety of the past when they have a job to do. A universe to save. People to bring back.

Rocket exits the room, leaving Thor and Jane alone.

“Do you, um.” Jane’s hands scrunch up the skirt of her dress before she gestures at the couch. “Want to sit?”

As he sits down, Jane follows next to him, so close and warm, he realizes belatedly that he has been dying to talk to someone who loves him. Desperate to talk to someone who knows him on a deeper level than his friends on Earth and New Asgard. (At this time, they’re all alive. His mother, here and hale. Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun, Sif, likely somewhere nearby and plotting with him on how they’re going to solve the latest challenge. And Jane.)

She asks him a simple, “How long has it been?” and it all spills out of him, a dam overdue to be broken after five years of holding his pain and guilt at bay. He tells her of Ragnarok, the broad strokes of it anyway, losing his friends and his home and Mjolnir, that they’d broken up, Thanos, the stones, the battle they’d lost, the five years of wounded peace, and the chance they now have to fix it.

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” he whispers. “All that suffering and pain because I failed. We found him, and I killed him... but what was the point? We were too late, and I was just an idiot with an axe.”

“I might not know you as well as your Jane does,” she says slowly, “but I know enough to know that you’re no idiot.” She leans into him, looping her elbow around his and reaching for his hand. Their fingers twine, something familiar to Thor but new for her. “Everyone fails at something. That doesn’t make you a failure, it just makes you like everyone else.”

“But I’m supposed to be better.”

She shrugs. “Then prove it. When I first met you, and you failed to get Mjolnir back from the crater site, you didn’t shut down or stop trying. You just...” She sighs. “I don’t really know, but you just decided that you were still going to be better, even if you didn’t have your hammer. You taught me about the realms, you went to Izzy and apologized for smashing her mug,” she chuckles a little at that, “and it probably wasn’t what you wanted, but what I saw then wasn’t a failure. I didn’t fully get it then, but you had literally lost everything--your home, your way of life, your family, Mjolnir and your powers--but you still smiled at us, still kept moving forward when everything was trying to crush you. That’s a hero, if you ask me.”

He swallows, his emotion for this woman threatening to overwhelm him for a few heartbeats. “Thank you,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against hers. She leans back, relaxed and easy.

“You should try to call Mjolnir,” she suggests, so casual and offhand that it nearly knocks him off the couch.

He could, he realizes. Mjolnir is not gone in this timeline, and if they will return the Aether to it’s proper place, Mjolnir can make the trip back just as easily.

He’s spent the last five years proving himself to be a worthless lump of a man, being the exact opposite of what Jane thought him to be, but it isn’t too late for him. It had never felt right, being in the skin of a depressed, lazy drunk who sometimes couldn’t summon the energy to leave his bed or talk to his friends. It hadn’t been him. In fact, he’s felt more like himself since he’d come back to the Avengers for this wild, last-ditch effort to fix what Thanos did than he’s felt in a long time.

The last five years have changed him, certainly, but if Jane can still see the man who’d unflinchingly faced down death as a human man in New Mexico, then he can try to see him to.

Thor stands and reaches out, calling for a presence that had been his constant companion since he was a boy.

He calls, and Mjolnir answers.

Thor smiles.

[uwuwriting]

Mirio w/soulmate au Dreamscape

Request: Hiya~! I was wondering if you could bless me with a 🍀 prompt staring my boy Mirio? 👉👈 - @drapetomaniac​

I’m so so sorry or the delay but my computer decided to combust and leave me alone on this cold world. Thankfully it was fixed quickly and we back on track. Coming string with my boy Mirio here and I’m excited to say the least. I’ll be posting twice today or at least that’s the plan, hope it goes smoothly. Thank you all so so so much for 400 followers I cannot believe you guys like what I write and actually follow me so thank you again. Love yaaa. 💖💖💖

warnings: some angst if you squint, minor spoilers

Soulmates are a funny thing. Not just the idea of a singular individual being your other destined half but also the process until you find them. The signs are interesting to say the least. There are a dozen ways to ‘see’ your soulmate and you were one of the lucky few that had an easier sign.

Dreams a re a funny thing. A reality that your mind creates to keep you entertained while you sleep building whole worlds and tearing your own reality apart all the while keeping you immersed. Dreams were always an interesting concept to you and when he started appearing in them things become all the more exciting. 

In truth you couldn’t truly see his face, just some physical characteristics. His height that towered over you, his broad shoulders that seemed to become a wall protecting you from your own imagination, his hair that were a literal sunflower and his light. The light he was always accompanied with in your dreams. His was the definition of a star and you were almost certain that he could outshine the sun himself. He was beyond endearing. 

Your dreams of him began in middle school. You didn’t know who he was and you didn’t have any idea how you could find out. So you left his identity in the hands of your dreams, of your destiny knowing that when the right time came you would know. It had happened before. Soulmates that could see each other in their dreams finally meeting and feeling one another. They didn’t have to know who the other was. They simply knew. And that’s were your hopes lay. 

Life went on smoothly for the next five years, nothing special happening and no unique feeling while meeting new people. In all honesty you were fine with that, your positive nature unwavering. You were in your last year of high school now, getting ready to enter adulthood and close this chapter of your life. University was your next stop and you couldn’t be happier. Becoming a doctor was your longtime dream after realizing that hero work was not in your genes. Everything was so bright, so positive and then they were not. 

He was different. The light that surrounded him had dimmed leaving him in the shadow of his former self. His posture had changed, shoulders caving into himself and head hang low not looking your way anymore. You tried reaching him but you knew better. You couldn’t get any closer, your mind wouldn’t let you. A low beeping noise could be barely heard and you immediately knew what it was. Heart monitor. Life support. You felt the shudder as he crumpled to his knees, loud sobs erupting from his chest. Was he hurt? Was he dying? Why, why couldn’t get any closer? And then the beeping stopped. The breath caught in your throat and you were steadying yourself for the emptiness that would follow his departure. But it never came. He continued to sob, caving into himself. You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. Consciousness made her way into your mind and you could feel yourself waking up. No no no no you couldn’t leave him. He needed you. He was falling apart. You have to be here next to him. With a final attempted you screamed as loud as you could and surprisingly he looked up. He looked at you and- 

You woke up with a start, chest heaving and breath frantic. Something happened. Something happened to him and he was in danger. But what danger? Was he alright now? Was he still fighting for his life? Did he really hear you? So many question and yet so little answers. Alas you could only hope to meet him soon. However, you couldn’t shake the feeling of shame on your part. You had left him. You had left him alone to suffer and you would go back to your ordinary life. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair

The U.A festival was by far the most anticipated event for the U.A students. Having your best friend in the support class and you declining attending for the previous two years, you decided to attend this time around. It would be her last year at the school after all and you wanted her to be happy. That’s how you found yourself in the changing room for the beauty pageant helping a certain Nejire Hado do her make up. The girl was a handful. From her happy-go-lucky character to her constant shift of attention she was kind of a challenge to deal with. But you liked her. She was basically an angel. 

Nejire was ready at last and she was hugging you as thanks bashing over how cute you are and what a shame it was that you couldn’t participate in the pageant yourself, when a little girl walked in. Her light grey-blue hair cascaded like a waterfall down her back and her big red eyes scanned the room finally falling on you and Nejire. 

“Nejire, the strap of my dress is loose and Mirio can’t do it right.” she pouted looking down at the strap of the dress falling from her shoulder. As if on queue the speakers announced that the pageant was beginning. 

“I’m sorry Eri but i have to go. Oh, how about Y/N fixed it she was a huge help to me!!” and with that she was off and you were left alone with the little girl, Eri. Walking to her you dropped to you knees and gently grabbed the strap tying it with a small knot. Eri was looking at your face, scanning your features and grabbing a strand of stray hairs, tucking them behind your ear. 

“So you can see.” she whispered and you gave her a small smile, patting her shoulder signaling that she was ready but staying at her level looking her in the eye. 

“I’m Y/N and it’s nice to meet you Eri.” she smiled at you before looking back at the door she came through. “Who was with you? We can go find them and you can enjoy the festival.” 

“I’m with Mirio, he was talking with Izuku when my strap got loose and I heard Nejire talking.” she looked down at her hands. “But I don’t know where he is now.”

“What does he look like? I can help you find him.” you smiled at her and she kinda shied away from you but started her description nonetheless. 

“He’s really tall and he has big arms and he gives the best hugs and his hair are yellow.” she almost beamed at you as she talked but she didn’t grace you with a smile. “You can’t really miss him and I’ll see him and tell you. Come on.” she grabbed your arm and almost dragged you out the door. 

It didn’t take long to find him, he was as tall as a tree after all. Eri’s gasp when she saw him was the cutest thing you had ever heard but then you were yanked towards his direction by the small girl. She let go of your hand and jumped in the arms of the boy, Mirio, giving small apologies for running off. That’s when you truly saw him.

The light that surrounded him was the exact same as the one you would see in your dreams. The feeling you have been waiting for was there and it was hitting you across the head over and over the more you looked at him. You could only imagine your expression but you could use one word for it. Shock. 

Mirio on the other and was frozen in place, Eri still in his arms. That aura. The one he has been feeling for so long every time he saw her in his dreams. The one that surrounded the person that pulled him out of his despair when he was dealing with the loss of his quirk and Sir’s death. The aura of his soulmate. He could only let out a small laugh before he stumbled over his own words trying to say something to the literal goddess that was standing in front of him. You giggled at his nervousness and he swore he hadn’t heard a more angelic sound in his life. 

“I/m Y/N L/N.” 

“And I’m your soulmate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ , @brattyquirks​      

[lieutenantcharleslorem]

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Data/Geordi La Forge Additional Tags: daforge - Freeform, AU, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Goblins, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Mermaids, Pirates Summary:

The Corsair ship Enterprise is not exactly a pirate ship, but they do what they have to to get by on the high seas. Without someone knowledgeable in steam mechanics that becomes even harder. Data is a gear filled robot who can be wound like a watch, and Geordi is merman who cannot see above water. But perhaps this odd friendship could solve some of their problems.

Hi! This was written for a commission for @datalaur​. This takes place in a weird vaguely steampunk, D&D type universe where certain alien species names are interchangeable with mythological names like trolls and goblins, and everyone calls Data a robot. The world building isn't perfect, but I still think it's a good time. 💜 (Here’s a link to chapter two)

 CHAPTER ONE

The sea rippled in the wind, and the ship creaked as the sails were turned.

“Captain,” said the first mate, “We can’t go on like this.”

“What do you want me to do, Will? Stop and ask for directions?”

“It’s not just that. When we go into battle, we can’t have you and the rob’ut shoveling coal.”

“There’s so much more to it than that.”

“Well then? That’s my point. We’ve got to replace O’Brien. I know you were holding out hope, but when we dock at the ninth port again, sure he’ll sing songs, and welcome us like old friends, but he’s not gonna be convinced to go back to the life of a corsair. Not now that he found someone who could love that ugly mug of his.”

The Captain sighed. “You’re right. But Data knows this ship better than anyone—”

“The rob’ut can’t fix himself, Picard,” Riker spat. He steeled himself and tried to speak more respectfully. “We need a new crew member. Even if he doesn’t know the engines, if he’s got a mind to learn, if he can figure Data’s gears, he can pick up slack. Because we need you both on deck, sir.”

“Captain, I’m afraid I have to concur.” The gears in Data’s shoulders creaked as he turned the wheel and changed their course. “Not only that we need an extra crewman, but that we should stop and ask for directions.”

“Data…” Picard said, frustrated, “Who do you suppose we ask. A siren?”

“I propose we anchor along this approaching landmass,” replied Data. “There are signs of life.”

Picard removed his spyglass from his pocket and took a look at the approaching shore. There was smoke in the distance and a path cut through the trees. There was no way to tell if these people were friendly, but they were certainly people.

But Captain Picard was nothing if not an adventurer. If he had been afraid to meet new and mystical species on faraway shores, he never would’ve found Data, or Worf. Even Troi was half Elvin, and they’d all learned to live with her mind trickery. While the old girl, Enterprise, was just beginning to take on this diversity, Picard suspected there were pirate and privateer ships in which humans were the minority.

When they anchored a few hours later, the crew was informed to sit tight while the Captain and Worf sought out the people to make sure it was safe.

The first thing Worf noticed about the locals was that they didn’t seem all that mysterious. They looked human. The only difference being that his humans kept themselves better trimmed.

“Trespassers,” said one of the men.

“We mean no disrespect,” said Picard, putting his hands up to show his open palms. “We’ve only lost our way. We don’t mean to intrude.”

“You have a Klingon with you,” said one of the women.

“This is Worf,” said the captain. “He is a friendly Klingon. He wasn’t even raised on the mountains of Kronos. He was raised among humans.”

Worf nodded. He resented his trustworthiness being equated with how human he may be, but now was not the time to be offended.

“What are you doing here?” asked the man.

“We’re lost,” said Picard. “We’ve been tasked to find the Goblin homeland. They’ve stolen some inventions—”

“They’ll gut you for your latinum.”

“Alas, we have none at the moment. We will be paid for retrieving the machinery.”

“They won’t stop to find out what’s in your pockets. They’d sell the clothes off your corpse.”

“We are familiar with the goblins, and their confrontation tactics,” said Worf, “Money is no doubt the reason for their thieving, not a hope for technological advancement. However, were they to sell to an enemy, the human government would not be pleased.”

“I see. Privateers then?”

“You could say that,” said Picard with a smile.

“Hmm, the kind of privateers who are also pirates, or the kind with a certain code of conduct?”

Picard and Worf shuffled their feet.

“It depends on your definition of pirate,” said Worf. Picard shot him a look that told him to keep his mouth shut.

“We definitely have a code of conduct,” Picard assured them. “You have nothing to fear from us. We’re only asking a little help…”

“You’ve gone too far,” said the woman.

“Excuse me?” asked Picard, wondering what he could have possibly said to prompt this response.

“You’ve gone too far,” she repeated. “That’s how you got confused. You went too far north. It happens. Goblins are southeast of us. We could maybe mark it on a map, but can’t say how accurate it would be. None of us are cartographers.”

“If you’re willing to look at a map that would be great. But you’ve already helped. Thank you,” said Picard.

“You look weary,” said one of the men.

“You might stay,” said the other. “Assuming you are not pirates.”

“Oh, oh that’s very generous, but we should be on our way,” replied Picard.

“Suit yourself, but Jeham used to live the ship life, and any chance to spend a moment on land was cherished later when the chances didn’t come. If you would like to stay a short while we would not object.”

“Well… I don’t know how much time we can waste. But we will tell the crew that they are free to explore for the time being.”

“Explore?” asked the woman.

“Would that be a problem?”

“No,” said the man. “But there are some areas that are… not as safe.”

Picard nodded, not wanting to make a fuss. “Worf, why don’t you go back to the ship and let the crew know we’re welcomed.”

“But Captain—”

“I’m sure I’m safe with our new friends, Mr. Worf.”

Worf looked back and forth between them, nodded, and disappeared through the trees.

“I never asked your names. I am Jean-Luc Picard.”

“I mentioned Jeham,” said one of the men, pointing a thumb to the other. “And my name is Di.”

“And I’m Reese,” said the woman.

That evening they sat around a large fire. Some stood, some walked around, but they fit nearly 200 people into a clearing, Picard’s salty crew mingling idly with this sandy group of families. The doctor had disappeared somewhere. The Captain hoped she was having fun. Data stood very close to the circle around the fire, wanting to be included, but not wanting to take a warm place to sit from someone who would be comforted by it.

“May I ask you a question?” said Data quietly.

“Only if we can ask a few back,” said Reese.

“Of course, please do. I was wondering, you do not look terribly different from us, and you speak human, but—”

“We are human,” replied Di.

“This is only a settlement,” said Jeham. “I used to work on a ship too, but I’d been looking for an out for a while when my ship stopped here. I decided to stay, after I met everyone.”

“Most of the originals came to get away from the black fog of the big cities. We live a little simpler here,” said Di.

Data’s face fell, if only minutely, and he said, “You came here to get away from machinery.”

“Perhaps, you could say that,” said Reese, “But we have no problem with machines. Only the smell of industry.”

“What are you?” asked Di, standing up to look more closely at Data’s skin, “A robot?”

“Yes.”

“Who made a thing like you? Is he with the crew?” asked Reese.

“No. My creator was lost at sea many years ago.”

Di reached out and ran a finger along Data’s forehead and down his nose. “You’re not like any robot I’ve ever seen.”

“I wouldn’t imagine we’re up on the latest trends, Di,” said Reese.

Di continued trailing his finger down Data’s face, and Data resisted the urge to shudder when he reached his lips. Though he would’ve preferred Di ask permission, he couldn’t deny that in some ways Data enjoyed the stimulation to his- his what, he wasn’t sure. He had speculated that he had artificial nerve endings, but it was far beyond the realm of any science in the land. There were rumors on the ship that Soong had not just used engineering, but magic to bring Data to life. But if it was true, that didn’t change that the robot still needed to be wound.

As the feel of Di’s fingers on his neck suddenly became absent, Data realized he had shut his eyes. He opened them abruptly and whispered. “I am… one of a kind.”

The captain cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should do a little exploring in the morning before we leave. Get some exercise before we have to be cooped up on the ship. If you could suggest any trails…?”

“We could take you to look at some pretty areas, but you shouldn’t go off alone,” said Reese.

“Oh, I’m sure we could handle any animals that might come our way.”

“It’s not that,” said Di. “You don’t want to go very far from shore. You don’t want to get near the water.”

“Water?” asked Worf, “What do you mean near water but away from the shore? That does not make sense.”

“There is something of a lake, but it drains in from the ocean and it is quite deep.”

“Everyone on our crew can swim… Except for Alyssa,” said Data.

“It’s not about that either. This is the good water.” Di gestured behind him. They couldn’t see the shore through the trees but knew it was in that direction. “It’s mighty shallow. Just stay away from the rivers and estuary. They’re deep.”

There was an awkward silence as they tried to figure out if they should keep asking questions, and then there was another voice in the darkness.

Troi walked up to the fire seemingly out of nowhere. Her skin appeared to glow in the fire light, and they could see the smallest bit of her brazier at the opening of a men's collared shirt that was a little too big for her. She whispered, “I get the sense you don’t actually want us to know why we shouldn’t see these deep waters.”

“It’s the creatures,” said Jeham.

“Jeham,” warned Di.

“What kind of creatures?” asked Picard.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of sirens,” said Reese.

Data cut in, “The captain mentioned them this morning.”

“Then you know.”

“I know of myth,” said Picard. “I know of imaginary creatures,”

“I doubt you’re so cynical. With a Klingon, and your mechanical man. You would question the possibility that sirens exist?”

“An entire race that is solely female and dedicated to killing sailors? I’m afraid it does cast some doubt.”

“They aren’t only female,” said Jeham. “And they’re not sirens… They’re merfolk. They’re just a species like any of the ones we’ve seen. We’ve all met groups of people that seemed scary,” he glanced at Worf, “and we’ve all met people with a special ability or two.” Now he looked at Deanna but looked away when she caught his eye.

“Well, now you make it sound like they’re just new friends to make.”

“No,” said Di. “People have tried. The merfolk seem friendly sometimes. But this is where the siren myths come from. They’re intelligent. They make you feel things. They can control your emotions.”

“I have no emotions,” said Data.

“Excuse me?”

“They could not possibly control my emotions; I am not capable of feeling emotions, as I am a machine.”

Di sighed. This conversation had gone on longer than he would have liked.

“Fine,” he said, “Chance it, Robot. But don’t blame me when you are dragged into the sea.”

“Well, perhaps if we have time,” said Data.

Troi slid into the circle and sat down in front of the fire. “Now what are the chances that you lovely people happen to have marshmallows?”

Things had stayed friendly and hours later, after everyone had agreed to call it a night, Data sat in front of the dying fire.

Since he didn’t sleep, he was often presented with extra time to occupy while those around him were unconscious. On the ship he usually continued navigating.

There was a pull on the gears of his ticking brain. Almost a tingle to his mind. He wondered, if he were human, would this be the need to be rebellious? After all, he was never a child, neither a teenager.

He needed, like an unquenchable curiosity, to go find the deep waters Di and the others had spoken of. He wasn’t afraid of what he might find there, for he couldn’t feel fear. Even if he could, he also couldn’t feel pain, so there was really nothing to be afraid of.

He got up quietly after the fire had gone out. He didn’t want to ruin their fire pit by extinguishing it or leave it unattended while burning. But now, in the light of only the moon he got up quietly and crept beyond the clearing, heading away from the shore.

It might have taken a biological being a few hours to navigate through the many trees and over jagged rocks, but Data did not tire, and found the estuary before sunrise.

The water here seemed different than that which he had sailed on for many years. This was eerily calm, and the moon shone off it in such a way that made it appear to glow.

Data sat down at the edge of the water, and waited. Nothing happened, but that was okay. He thought about navigation, and the mission they were on, and watched the sunrise.

Just as he was thinking perhaps he should return to the clearing, something in the water moved. Slowly a dark face emerged, with completely gray eyes, like nothing Data had ever seen.

“Are you waiting for someone?” the being asked.

“I suppose I was waiting for you,” replied Data.

“I've never heard your voice,” he didn’t look directly at Data as he spoke. “You don’t live here.”

“No, I’m a corsair.”

“I… I’m afraid I don’t know what that means.”

“I sail… on an independent ship.”

“You’re a pirate,” said the man in the water.

“… We don’t like to hurt people.”

“I’m not here to judge you.”

“What are you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“You are a merman?”

“If the name suits you.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Do you?”

“My name is Data.”

“A name befitting a mechanical man.”

“You knew I was a robot?”

“I can hear your body tick.”

“But you cannot see me.”

“Merpeople don’t see the same way land folk do.”

“Oh, I understand.”

“Mm, I doubt that.”

“Well, it is true that I probably cannot imagine how you process sensory input, but I also can’t imagine how any biological being does such things.”

“You experience your senses differently than everyone you meet, don’t you?”

“I have yet to meet anyone like me. Other robots do not…”

“They do not compare.”

“I suppose not. Some people think my creator was a genius. Others think he was mad. I’m sorry to say I am sometimes in the latter category… You never told me your name.”

“Geordi.”

“Is that a common merfolk name?”

“Not particularly.”

“I understand that you see differently than humans, but it appears as though you do not see me at all.”

“I saw you when I approached, but we are adapted to the water. We lose certain things above it. But others change. Everything is louder above water as well.”

“If I were human I would get in with you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I would hold my breath, and swim with you, so we could see each other properly. But I can’t get water in my gears.”

“Sailing seems like an odd job for someone who can’t get wet.”

“Well, I can get a little wet. But it could be troublesome to be fully submerged. It’s correct that if I fell overboard, I would most likely die, but that is true of most of the crew when on the high seas.”

“You’re quite the interesting device, aren’t you Data?”

Data didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry,” Geordi said suddenly. “That was rude.”

Data smiled even though he knew Geordi couldn’t see it. Just acknowledging that it was possible to be rude to him was more than some people gave him.

“I’ve been called worse than a device,” said Data. “And definitely worse than interesting.”

“Well, you are. Interesting, I mean.”

“I find you fascinating as well.”

“I’m really interested in mechanology. I hope you don’t mind me saying. It’s just, that sort of learning is limited when you live in water.”

“I would imagine.”

“I’d love to get a look inside you. I mean… that came out wrong.”

“You do not have to worry about offending me. I have learned over my time as a corsair, that it is not the words, but the feeling behind them.”

“Well, I mean, I can’t really get a look.”

“Figure of speech, I assumed.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure it would be terribly invasive to… to…”

“Examine my mechanics? If it were something you would enjoy, and you would not change anything—”

“Oh, of course not! I would never tamper with you without your permission.”

“Then you may open the compartment on my back,” Data said, unbuttoning his doublet. “I only ask that you dry your hands first.”

Geordi’s eyes widened. “Yes, yes of course I will.” He floated awkwardly for a moment before scrambling to get up onto land with Data. He fumbled as he couldn’t see the edge of the rock. Hands reached out and took hold of him around the waist. If he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve guessed them biological hands. The only sign that there was a difference was how effortlessly Data lifted Geordi out of the water, and sat him gently next to him.

Geordi’s tail hung off the edge and into the water but the rest of him was visible, and Data took in the details before handing Geordi a handkerchief and turning away from him.

He pulled the silk shirt he’d been wearing under his doublet over his head, not bothering with the buttons. Geordi finished drying his hands and felt out in front of him. He slid his hands down Data’s smooth back, finding in the middle, something like a key.

There was that feeling of Data being touched again, but this time it was invited.

“Does this keep you going?” Geordi asked, fingering the key.

“Yes, turned clockwise it winds my gears, but if you turn it counterclockwise—”

“I can unscrew it and open this hatch. And it won’t cause you any problems?”

“No.”

Geordi did as Data said, placing the key off to the side, and sliding open a door in his back. Data had of course been worked on and examined before, but this was somehow different. Geordi had to feel the parts to understand what was in front of him and Data could almost feel it himself. Geordi’s soft slick hands running along the springs and wires.

“There’s lots I could do back here,” Geordi said lazily fumbling over some screws. “Are you always so trusting with people you’ve just met?”

“No,” Data replied, eyes closed, “Never.” And it almost sounded breathy to Gerodi’s ears.

“Well, I’ll take this as a compliment… Ow.” Geordi pulled his hand away abruptly.

Data glanced back and saw Geordi put his finger in his mouth.

“You have burned yourself.”

“Nah,” said Geordi. “Just hurt for a second.” He went back to his examinations. “I see, so you breathe to keep this cool right here.”

“Yes.”

“It’s like you’ve got a little engine roaring away inside you. It’s amazing.”

“Do you… know anything about engines?”

“A little. I’d love to learn more.”

“Data!” said a voice in the distance. It was the captain.

“I have to go now,” Data told Geordi, like he was telling a playmate that his mom said dinner was ready.

Geordi nodded and shut the compartment. He felt around for the key before fumbling to screw it back in for Data. Once it was in he kept turning.

“All wound up.”

“Thank you,” Data whispered.

“Data?” shouted Dr. Crusher.

“I am here,” replied Data pulling on his shirt. “No need to go any further, I will come to you.”

He buttoned only a few of the buttons on his doublet before going to stand, but Geordi stopped him while he was still on his knees. He reached out and took Data’s hand.

“Will you be back?” Gerodi asked.

“Back?”

“Will I see you again? I’ve never met anyone like you.”

It wasn’t lost on Data that the merman called him one instead of thing. Data had to admit that though he had only known the being for all of 20 minutes, he wanted to promise he would be back. But it was not a promise he knew he could keep.

Data debated whether he would be overstepping a boundary for .3 seconds, and then decided to place a hand on Geordi’s cheek. “I will try,” he said honestly. Geordi shivered. “You are cold. You should return to the water.”

“Data, please inform us of your location,” said the captain.

“I will be right there, Captain.”

Geordi stayed on land for a few more moments to listen to the sound of Data’s footsteps as he walked away.

Beyond some rocks in the thick of trees and vines, Data found the captain and the doctor searching for him.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, Captain.”

“Out looking for mermaids, Data?” said the Captain with a smirk.

“Of course not, Captain. I would never go looking for something someone told me could be dangerous.” Data had recently begun to master facetiousness. He found it easier than sarcasm, because it didn’t require the same bite.

“Oh!” replied the doctor with a smile, “Of course not.”

“Well, I hate to interrupt our recreation, but we’re trying to get some maintenance done as quickly as possible so that we can be back on the sea before noon.”

“Captain, will we be coming back?” asked Data.

“Back?”

“To this shore…”

“There were no plans to. I know this is no concern of yours, but it depends on where our next meal is coming from.”

“I understand, this little village, of sorts, is not particularly profitable.”

Data was silent for the rest of the morning as they prepared to leave. He spared one passing glance at the shore as he steered the ship back onto the high seas.

With the locals’ changes to their maps they were able to find goblin territory faster than they expected. They came into port in the late afternoon as the sun was setting, and they had a plan before midnight. Goblins were ruthless, but they were also easily scared.

They would beat them at their own game, and retrieve the technology from right under their noses. Under cover of darkness, the captain, Riker, Data, and Worf, crept through the city. They took along a few crewmen who were new to the seas but could provide a little muscle. All of them pulled up their hoods against the rain. They’d been told before they came that it never stopped raining in goblin territory. But they hurried despite their discomfort. They could not be seen under any circumstances. This was not a place they could blend in. Their height alone would make them stand out to any goblin.

They inched into the building where they’d heard it was being held. They were fairly certain the goblins they’d interrogated were telling the truth. It had taken what little latinum they had left, but every goblin has their price.

Inside there were many locking mechanisms, but it was nothing Data couldn’t handle. Though he hadn’t been designed for theft, thieving from thieves brought exceptions. Being a corsair brought oh so many exceptions.

Coming down a hall, lit only by a torch, was the final door. Behind it should be the stolen machine. It was wood, and shorter than human doors, as had been all the doors in the building. It was covered in chains which the goblins no doubt thought were strong. Worf took a chain in hand on one side, and Data took it on the other. Pulling against each other like they might play tug-o-war, one of the links near the middle gave way and opened, and the chains fell apart.

The captain pushed the door open and ducked into the room. The device’s silhouette was monstrous in the darkness of the room, but Picard could tell they could get it through the door if they carried it on its side. After all, the goblins had to have gotten it in here somehow.

Squeezing it through the door and down the hall with the strength of a robot, a Klingon, a Bolian, and 3 humans was easier than expected. They shuffled out of the building, and were almost home-free when they heard a footstep.

A little clay colored boy with the biggest ears they’d ever seen screeched and pointed at them. Suddenly the sound stopped and the boy was on the ground. Worf had put down his corner of the device and hit the little goblin in the back of the head. He flinched as he looked at him. No one on the ship enjoyed when their adventures came to such things. Stealing and defending oneself was one thing but hurting innocent people never felt good.

“He should be fine,” whispered Data.

Worf nodded and picked up his end again and they were able to get it onto the ship uninterrupted.

As they rushed out of dock, wind in their sales, it almost seemed too easy. The simplicity was almost dreamlike, being so unsettling and anxiety inducing, that it was almost a relief when they heard goblins shouting in the distance. Something about profit.

And then, there was just enough light from the moons to see a ship gaining on them. It was a strange looking ship, with little cohesion, different colors and shapes that reminded them of other races they’d met along the way. It was almost as if the goblins had built the ship from spare parts of other ships they’d come across, purchased, or robbed.

The word Ferengi was messily painted on the side. It must’ve meant something in the goblin language, but they didn’t know what, and didn’t have time to think about it.

There was yelling and swift conversations as they heard cannons go off. Were they out gunned? Could they call someone for help? Goblins had always seemed so cowardly, but there had been a feeling in the air, and now it seemed inevitable that they had underestimated them.

While people on the Enterprise were loading cannons, Riker took the wheel, and the captain told Data to go change the direction of the sails. Data nodded and ran to the ropes. Just as he was finishing, he heard Troi shout, “What’s going on?”

“The goblins,” he replied. “Help with cannons!”

Looking at her when he spoke, he was caught off guard when the entirety of the Enterprise shook with a particularly well aimed cannon ball. The ship lurched, and Data tried to grab onto the rope, but his hands missed it by a centimeter. Data went toppling into the water, Troi running to the railing after him, but knowing there was nothing she could do.

“Data!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.

He could hear faintly the water muffled warbling of Troi explaining to someone, “The robot, he’s gone overboard!” before he became waterlogged and shut down.

Data assumed this would be the end of his experiences.

-Chapter Two-

[i-just-tardis-blue-myself]

Hello, anon!!

I’m guessing you’re asking me this because of the post I made regarding ff the other night. The truth is, I didn’t get to read many whouffaldi fics in ff and I haven’t read a whole lot whouffaldi fics since then. I always circle back to the same authors and stories, because when I tried to read new stuff after it didn’t affect me the way they did back in the day.

So the four authors I mentioned in my early post are the ones I would recommend you to check out. They were, I dare say, the hottest whouffle writers at the time. They all started by publishing Eleven/Clara (good old souffez)  and Other Doctors/Clara fics, so if you ship “whouffle” and not only “whouffaldi” you’ll find a gold mine worth of fiction. They all ended up writing Twelve/Clara stories, but not as many with the exception of maybe C1araosw1ad who posted her last whouffaldi fic in 2019.

So that being said, here are my recomendations:

Frombluetored

Heartlines (rated T)

An unknown threat sucks the Doctor and Clara into a parallel universe and leaves them stranded. While biding their time, they encounter the Clara of that universe and her achingly familiar husband.

This story has an especial place in my heart because Heartlines takes place in the same universe of  “Of adoration and chaos” an Eleven/Clara fic written by the same author. I’d say “Of adoration” is one of the best souffez fics out there and you don’t need to read it to understand Heartines, but you’ll be missing a great piece of fiction.  

Everest (rated T)

AU. The Doctor, recently promoted to CEO after the early passing of John Smith, enters his new job with short-lived surety. And then he meets the COO, Clara Oswald, who's just as determined to show the Doctor who's really in charge as she is to show him he'll never live up to his predecessor. Unfortunately for them, control doesn't exist in matters of the heart.

This one contains heavy subjects, so if you aren’t comfortable with high rates of smut and unhealthy coping mechanism this story isn’t for you. This fic wasn’t an easy ride, but it was worth the effort.

Banged up ( rated M)

There were many things Clara Oswald expected when she entered prison. Catching the eye of the prison's most notorious inmate was not one of them.

I remember this fic being really, really sexy, but also sad and angsty af. It is also unfinished and you might want to avoid that level of masochism, but hey, where is the fun in that?

Paper machine (rated K+)

Clara Oswald's timeless relationship with the Doctor, as seen through the eyes of her smitten student.

This fic is so precious and adorable. I love it to pieces. It contains a bit of 11/clara too, like most of frombluetored  fics.

E1evenc1ara

In another life (rated M)

A collection of AU one-shots featuring Clara and the the Doctor (Ten, Eleven, and/or Twelve). These are all written in response to prompts supplied by my tumblr users, which will be displayed at the top of each story.

Listen, the second story broke me in million little pieces. I’ll never over that pain. Totally worth it tho.

Again, If you dig Eleven/Clara, I would recomend you to check out The IT guy and its sequel Postcards from New York  by the author.

Dreamcatcher (rated T)

This is supposed to be a doctor x clara but I couldn’t picture any other Doctor than Twelve. I’ll die on this hill.

Happy Endings (rated M)

The Doctor and Clara attend a Royal Wedding in the thirty-first century where they have a bit too much to drink.

They get drunk, they bang, the Doctor is a wrecked mess after, but everything turns all right. Pure bliss, my dudes.

D Veleniet

Hold onto me (rated K+)  

Clara stood frozen, reeling from too many emotions to even name. All she could do was stare. "Doctor?" She approached him slowly, carefully. "What's happened to you?" She swallowed against the grief that threatened to cloud her voice. "Why are you acting like this?"

The author wrote this fic in 2013, before series 8 aired and reader, the way she was on absolute point with Twelve’s characterization. I mean, Twelve being a grumpy old Scottish lil shit pointing out Clara’s physical “flaws” to deflect from the fact that he’s absolutely in love with her check. Twelve being a huge ass softie for Clara check. My heart being compromised by their dynamic and how much they love each other CHECK (also I’m so greatful Twelve never called Clara “wee” in the show, I would have slapped him)

Untouchable (rated M)

Clara stopped missing the touches, stopped smarting from his flinches when they would accidentally brush up against each other or bump arms. She stopped wondering what had changed so much inside him that had made her physically repulsive to him now. Then one night she agreed to a set-up on a blind date.

This is a sexy sequel for Hold onto me in which everything hurts, but also everything is very hot. So yeah, yeah.

This author wrote, problably the most famous eleven/clara fic back in the day : The other has my heart and its sequel More than you know They were litsed in every fic rec and rightly so.

C1araoswa1d

The Tethers Between Hearts (rated k+)

On a quiet little planet, the Doctor shares something very important with Clara.

If I could cover myself with this achingly soft piece of writing, I would. Because I can’t, I do the second best thing which is rereading it over and over, until I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Waking Dreams (rated T)

(Doctor Who AU) Life is complicated enough for Clara after an accident puts her young daughter in a coma, but through her only means of communication with the girl - an in-dream interface system - she's meets an odd company representative who promises to help her along, quite possibly in more ways than she could ever imagine.

Welcome to Angstown, populatiom : THIS FIC

A Mirage in Time  (rated M )

After Clara, the Doctor seeks out an Echo to help him move on… and finds himself just as perplexed by her and possibly just as in love.

I love C1araoswa1d’s writing so much, specially the way she depicts Clara. IDK man, part of my undying love for the character comes from the way she characterizes Clara in her stories. So yeah, please go and read all her fics. They are amazing, specialy How to fall in love with a time traveller and A path out of the dark

Bonus track, my dudes.

Anon, I know you asked me for my favorite ff.net whouffaldi fics, but I cannot left twelveclara out of this list. Her fics are iconic and you have probably read them, but fuck it.

History, like love

There are planets orbiting her eyes and her mouth tastes like the ocean; in her head she hears a shatter, like her soul has pried her ribs apart in a desperate, aching attempt to reach his. “If I could have picked anybody,” he murmurs, “it would have been you.”

My favorite soulmate au ever written in any fandom. periodt

But we’re so happy

from the outside looking in; so, maybe river’s right. people always stare at what they can’t touch.

punk rock au. Perfection in all its unfinished magnificence.

[honeyrataxia]

feel like a dream - part 2.

ship ! kim taehyung x min yoongi ( taegi )

genre ! fluff, a bit of angst i think, surely nostalgic, spirited away!au.

warnings ! mention of pills, mention of coma.

when taehyung woke up next, he found himself lying in a bed of flowers, wearing a white suir. the sun was shining radiantly up in the blue sky filled with white clouds. taehyung sat up, looking around. « where am i? » she asked in lower voice, wondering if there was someone around.

« so you finally woke up, sleeping beauty. »

taehyung froze at the sound of that voice behind him. as yoongi stepped forward to where he could see him, moisture gathered in his eyes. « i knew it wasn’t just a dream » he whispered again.

« no, it wasn’t. » yoongi reached a hand out to taehyung and helped him up. « it was never a dream, and besides, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters. »

« yes, that’s all that matters.. » taehyung smiled, before burying his face in the crook of yoongi's neck. « i missed you so much »

« i missed you too. »

« why did you suddenly leave? » he asked.

« i didn’t leave; you did, tae.. »

« me? »

« you were just a passer-by, weren't you? just a boy passing by heaven. »

« but i found my way back here. »

« and you did very well » yoongi answered, stroking his soft hair. « welcome home. »

« i’m back » he said with a smile.

-

the doctor sighed and turned to face taehyung's parents. the man had to support his wife, since she seemed like she would collapse at any moment. « i’m sorry, we’ve done our best. his life is out of danger, but his condition isn’t very stable yet. we’ll have to keep him under observation for this week before we can come to any conclusions. but for now, he’s in a sort of coma. »

« will he ever wake up, doctor? » the woman asked with pleading eyes. she looked towards her precious baby, all bandaged up and hooked to different tubes that were connected to machines, and felt her heart shatter yet again.

« unfortunately, we can’t tell. all we can do now and pray and hope for the best… i’m very sorry. mr and mrs kim. if you’ll excuse me, i’ll give you some time with him. » then the doctor and the two nurses exited the room.

« taehyung, oh taetae, my  baby.. » she sobbed. her legs could no longer support her weight and she buckled into the chair by the bed where their son was 'sleeping'.

« hey kid, this isn’t funny, you keep sleeping, it’s time to wake up » the man urged while trying to hold his tears back. « you can sleep for a while now, but you gotta wake up soon, don’t keep us old folks waiting, alright? »

outside the room, a certain boy was watching all of this with glossy dark black orbs.

-

« where are we going? » taehyung laughed as he let yoongi pull him along with.

« you’ll know when you see it. we’re getting close. »

taehyung stared straight ahead, trying to make out where they were going, though it was a little fuzzy, but when their destination was a fair distance away, he stopped in his tracks. his lips were slightly parted as he stared at that familiar gate in awe.

« i see you still remember this place » yoongi grinned.

« i never thought i’d see it again » taehyung replied with teary eyes « every time i came back it was just a wall. i could never go back. »

yoongi stepped towards him and placed his hands on the other's shoulders, gazing at him earnestly in the eye. « come with me, you can stay here with me forever. »

yoongi led taehyung forward, but he stopped in his tracks. the first turned to look at him questioningly. « but, doesn’t that mean i’ll have to sleep forever? » he asked.

« do you want to wake up? » yoongi returned.

taehyung stared at yoongi's outstretched hand for a while, unsure of how to answer him. « i don’t, but i don’t want to stay forever without my family either.. »

« it’s a choice you must make, tae. if you choose to wake up, you’ll never see me again. »

« what? why?! »

« you’re a passer-by..» he replied softly « and passers-by can't stay here for a long time. »

-

yoongi stepped into the now empty room, carefully closing the door behind him.

« tae.. » he murmured, with pain in his voice. he drew nearer to the bed and saw the sleeping face of the boy illuminated by the pearlescent moonlight streaming in from the window.

tentatively, yoongi brushed his fingers on taehyung's cheek. he didn’t move. not one bit.

« taehyungie » he called once more, holding his hand. « it’s me, yoongi. » he let out a shaky breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. « this wasn’t how i envisioned our reunion to be, honestly. i guess i’m too late. but i had to keep my promise to you no matter what.. sorry, but it was rather difficult to find a crack in the closed gate. » he stopped, taking a deep breath.  « can you hear me? even if you can’t, allow me to say some things. it’s… been a while since we last talked. at times i still cannot bring myself to believe that a decade has already passed us by.. time passes much too quickly. how has life been for you? i understand that you’re in university now. is it tough working as a student? »

silence was his only answer.

yoongi looked out the window to find the moon quietly standing outside. « you know, the others back in the spirit realm miss you very much. i was actually thinking of bringing you back for a visit too, and show you more beautiful places in the spirit realm. i know you’ll love it » he smiled. « but for that to happen, you’ll have to wake up first. » yoongi closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his. he could feel taehyung breathing, but it was so, so faint and weak. « i’m sorry for making you wait all this time. so wake up, and allow me to make it up to you for every moment you had to wait for me » he murmured.

gazing down at taehyung's peaceful face, he felt a growing dull ache in his chest. he was so beautiful, but he had turned out differently from what yoongi had imagined. his face had thinned a fair bit, he had grown much taller. taehyung had definitely changed a lot physically. had that ten-year-old changed as well? that brilliant smile of the boy he met ten years ago surfaced in his mind, bringing an identical smile to his face.

« i have something important i've always wanted to say to you, although i never really got the chance to till now » trailing his fingers down taehyung's cheek, they came to rest at his lips. « i.. i love you, taehyung. i've missed you in the time we were apart, but now that we're here.. please, wake up. »

just as those words left his lips though, he suddenly sensed taehyung's body temperature dropping. « taehyung? » alarmed, he stood up quickly and checked her pulse. something was wrong, very wrong.

and he was losing him fast.

« tae, what’s wrong? stay with me, come on! » he hit the emergency button with his fist quickly. « just hang in there until the doctors come, please! »

it was no use. taehyung's body was getting weaker by the second and in his heart, he knew that it was too late.

« please! » yoongi begged, gripping on to him hand tightly. tears spilled from his eyes, falling onto taehyung's closed lids. « give me a chance to make it up to you for the time we lost. just please, stay with me! »

the beeping sound began to escalate.

and then as quickly as it rose, it fell.

soon, a monotonous beep was all that filled the room.

-

« i want to be with you forever » taehyung said finally.

« we’ll go on another adventure past this gate, yes? » yoongi replied with a chuckle.

« yeah. it’ll just be you and i, having an eternal adventure here in heaven. and it’s not going to just be a dream anymore. »

« two angels together in heaven, forever. »

« forever. »

yoongi pressed his lips against the now cold ones of the other boy, and rested a hand over his forehead. « sweet dreams, my dear. someday we’ll meet again, if fate allows. i promise. »

and with that, yoongi left, without turning back, just as taehyung had.

[sheliesshattered]

First Row On The Moon

Clara/Twelve Kill The Moon AU. Part 2 of For As Long As We Get, following after The Impossible Soldier. 5500 words, developing relationship, happy ending. Available on AO3 under the same title and username.

--

First Row On The Moon

“I think that it's unique,” the Doctor said, his tone awed. “I think that's the only one of its kind in the universe. I think that it is... utterly beautiful.”

Clara stared at the hologram the Doctor had produced, at what appeared to be a kind of dragon, curled into a tight ball inside the moon. Beautiful was right, though she shuddered to think of how big it would be once it hatched. Or what would happen to the moon when it did.

“How do we kill it?” Lundvik demanded.

Startled, Clara looked from the astronaut to the Doctor and back again, a chill working its way down her spine. She’d seen the nuclear bombs they’d brought, rows and rows of them. How wasn’t the question they should be asking, the how was obvious. But rather, should they? Should they snuff out this life for the sake of everyone on the planet below? Or was there a way to save both the hatchling and humanity?

The Doctor had gone ominously silent, his expression stony.

She crossed her arms and turned back to Lundvik. “Why do you want to kill it?”

“It’s a little baby!” Courtney objected over the video link from the TARDIS. Her ‘disruptive influence’ reputation aside, when you got right down to it, she really was something special, Clara thought. A fifteen year old with that kind of empathy, who had fearlessly walked onto an alien spaceship and accepted the offer of a trip to the moon like it was any other Wednesday.

But Lundvik was clearly unmoved. “Doctor, how do we kill it?” she said again.

“Kill the moon?” he asked, his voice a dangerous sort of quiet.

Lundvik nodded, and the Doctor used the sonic to turn off the hologram. Clara could practically feel the muffled anger radiating off of him. Anyone who could look at the image of an unborn creature, something he had declared beautiful and unique, and immediately think of nothing but murdering it, didn’t deserve to see that image anymore.

“Kill the moon,” he repeated, louder. “Well, you have about a hundred of the best man-made nuclear weapons, if they still work. If that's what you want to do.”

No, no, they were not going to validate Lundvik’s murderous instincts without even looking for another solution. “Doctor, wait—” Clara started, but the astronaut cut her off.

“Will that do it?”

“A hundred nuclear bombs?” the Doctor demanded. “Set off right where we are? Right on top of a living, vulnerable creature?” His anger was starting to boil to the surface now, voice sharp and words harsh. “It'll never feel the sun on its back!”

“And then what?” Lundvik pressed. “Will the moon still break up? You said, you said we had an hour and a half?”

“Well, there'll be nothing to make it break up,” he shot back. “There will be nothing trying to force its way out. The gravity of the little dead baby will pull all the pieces back together again. Of course, it won't be very pretty. You'd have an enormous corpse floating in the sky. You might have some very difficult conversations to have with your kids.”

“I don't have any kids,” Lundvik muttered, as though that absolved her of this choice.

“Stop,” Clara said before she could get any further down the path of destroying the alien lifeform beneath their feet. “Right, listen. This is a— this is a life. I mean, this must be the biggest life in the universe.”

“It's not even been born!” Courtney put in.

“It is killing people,” Lundvik snapped. “It is destroying the Earth.”

“You cannot blame a baby for kicking!” Clara countered, growing more frustrated the more insistent the other woman became. They weren’t even taking the time to consider other options, to try to find a plan that could save everyone.

“Let me tell you something,” Lundvik said seriously. “You want to know what I took back from being in space? Look at the edge of the Earth. The atmosphere, that is paper-thin. That is the only thing that saves us all from death. Everything else, the stars, the blackness — that's all dead. Sadly, that is the only life any of us will ever know.”

She stared at her in disbelief, stunned by her shortsightedness. Clara had been out there, with the stars and the blackness, seen the wide variety of forms that life had created throughout the universe. She’d met sentient stars and visited civilisations orbiting suns whose light had not yet reached Earth. It was all so dazzling, and wondrous, and alive. She couldn’t fault Lundvik for not sharing that point of view, but the creature about to be born out of the moon was proof that Earth wasn’t the only spot of life in the cosmos, proof that there was so much yet for humanity to discover. And all Lundvik could think of was killing it.

Courtney echoed her thoughts, bless her, but still Lundvik refused to consider any alternatives. As the Doctor talked Courtney through bringing the TARDIS to them, Clara grasped for a solution to the problem. There had to be some way to both protect the Earth and save the life of the hatchling, something they could do.

She looked to the Doctor, who seemed to have folded in on himself, resigned to the inevitability of Lundvik’s bombs. She’d seen this from him before, this passivity, usually right before he came up with a clever plan to save the day.

Across the room, Lundvik was beginning to set the detonators for the nuclear bombs.

“No, stop, we need to discuss this!” Clara said, taking a step towards her.

“We haven’t got time!” Lundvik insisted, continuing her task.

“We are not just going to kill it without even talking about it! If we let it live, if it hatches, what happens? Doctor?”

He glanced up at her and away again, refusing to engage.

Well, fine. Clara forged ahead on her own, unwilling to give up. “The moon, the moon would be gone, but the Earth could survive that, right? No more tides, they’d have to relaunch satellites, but Earth would recover.”

“It's not going to just stop being there,” Lundvik replied angrily, “because inside the moon, Miss, is a gigantic creature forcing its way out. And when it does, which is going to be pretty damn soon, there are going to be huge chunks of the moon heading right for Earth, like whatever killed the dinosaurs, only ten thousand times bigger!”

“But the moon isn't made of rock and stone, is it?” Clara said. “It's made of eggshell.”

“Oh, God,” Lundvik groaned. “Okay, okay, fine. If, by some miracle, the shell isn't too thick, or if it disperses, or if it goes into orbit, whatever, there's still going to be a massive thing there, isn't there, that just popped out. And what the hell do you imagine that is? What the hell do you imagine it wants? You can’t blame a baby for kicking? I suppose you can’t blame a newborn for demanding a meal, either!”

“You don’t know that it will harm the Earth!”

“And you don’t know that it won’t! Are you really willing to risk the lives of everyone on the planet just to save some alien creature?”

Clara shook her head. “I’m going to need something a little more certain if I’m going to stand by and let you kill a baby!”

“Oh, you want to talk about babies?” Lundvik shot back. “You've probably got babies down there now, your children, maybe grandchildren. Think of them.”

She stared at her, banishing the image of Orson Pink from her mind. She didn’t have children on Earth right now, she would never have— That was the path she had turned away from, the life she had given up to be with the Doctor.

She turned to him, standing so quietly at the edge of the room, staring at his hands. “How do we solve this, Doctor? What do we do?”

He looked up at her, his face a mask of calm. “Nothing.”

“What?”

“We don't do anything. I'm sorry, Clara. I can't help you.”

“Of course you can help!”

“The Earth isn't my home. The moon's not my moon,” he shrugged. “Sorry.”

“No, come on. You’ve seen Earth’s future, you can tell us what happens.”

“That’s not how this works, and you know it!” he replied. “History is in flux, Clara, it always is. You always get the choice about your future, but I can’t make it for you!”

“Yeah, well, I can’t make it, either,” she said.

“Luckily there’s three of you. A teenager, an astronaut, and a schoolteacher, who better to make this decision? It's time to take the stabilisers off your bike. You don't need a Time Lord. Kill it. Or let it live. It's your moon, womankind. It's your choice. I can't do this for you.”

“So you’re just going to stand there?” she demanded.

“Absolutely not,” the Doctor said, over the sound of the TARDIS arriving. The door squeaked, and Courtney emerged.

“I am asking for your help!” Clara said to him, her anger rising.

“Hang on a minute,” Lundvik said. “We can get in there, can't we? You can sort it out with that thing.”

“No,” the Doctor said, with a horrible sort of finality. “Some decisions are too important not to make on your own.”

Clara watched in disbelief as he turned towards the TARDIS. “Doctor?” she called. When he didn’t acknowledge her, she nearly shouted after him, but stopped herself. To hell with that, she wasn’t going to be the sort of woman to stand there and yell at the retreating form of her— her boyfriend? That she didn’t even know the right word to apply to the Doctor now only made her angrier, and she followed him with long, quick strides, pushing through the TARDIS doors before he could do something absolutely idiotic like dematerialise and leave her there with the moon going to pieces beneath her feet.

“No, you do not do that,” she snapped as she slammed the doors shut behind her. “You do not walk away and leave me alone in that kind of situation! That is not how this works.”

He looked up at her from the far side of the console as though surprised that she had followed him. “I told you, can’t make this decision, Clara.”

“But you expect me to make it?”

“I have faith that you’ll make the right choice,” he said, voice open and sincere.

Clara stared at him in disbelief. “Honestly, do you have music playing in your head when you say rubbish like that? And what was it you said a minute ago — time to take the stabilisers off my bike? I’ve had just about enough of the patronising today!”

“I’m not patronising you, Clara. It’s not my Earth, it’s not my moon, I can’t make this decision for you. This is me respecting you, letting you make your own choice about your future, without putting my thumb on the scale.”

“My future?” she demanded.

The Doctor shot her a confused look. “It’s only 2049. Somewhere down there—”

“There is no older version of me on Earth right now,” she interrupted him. “No children, no grandchildren. My future is not down there, Doctor, it’s here, with you. That’s what we decided, all of six days ago! So this is just as much your moon as it is mine, and you can damn well help when it’s asked of you,” she snapped, anger forcing tears into her voice. “I cannot believe you left me out there!”

He blinked at her, taken aback. “Right. Okay.”

“‘We don’t walk away,’ that was the first thing you taught me,” she spat out. “Well, new rule: we don’t walk away from each other, either. We do not leave the other to make the impossible choice. We do it the same way we do everything: together. We’re partners in this, and when people need our help, we help them. We. Don’t. Walk. Away. What would we do, if this was any other moon, any other civilisation? Leave them to figure it out on their own? Or try to offer the best guidance we can, help them come to the kindest solution that will save the most people? There has to be something we can do, some way we can help—”

“Ah ha, gotcha!” the Doctor exclaimed, and Clara’s tirade stuttered to a halt. She looked over to where he was still stood on the other side of the console, his gaze fixed on one of the monitors, eyes moving rapidly as he read.

“Are you— are you even listening to me?” she asked, her anger surging again.

“Hm?” he said, gaze darting to her and immediately back to the monitor. “Yes, of course,” he said absently. “And you might have noticed, I agreed with you a few minutes back. But you were on a roll, so I thought it best to let you speak your mind while I got on with the research.”

“You were—” she bit down on more language she really shouldn’t use, especially with one of her students so close by, “—‘researching,’ while I was talking to you?”

“Yes. I was researching and listening, Clara. I can multitask, I am quite clever,” he added with another quick glance at her. “And we’re a bit short on time.”

She sighed and folded her arms. If not for the urgency and the life-or-death nature of the situation just outside the TARDIS doors she might have pressed the whole listening when she talked issue, but she couldn’t deny that he had a point. “What, exactly, are you researching?”

“The solution to the problem, of course.”

“And? Five minutes ago you were convinced you couldn’t help. What have you got now?”

“Well, I figured anything that hatches from an egg is likely the offspring of something else that hatched from an egg. Even if it has a hundred million year gestation time, even if it’s exceptionally rare, it can’t be the only one to ever exist...” He trailed off, still reading. “Ah, there we go, that explains the gravity.” He looked back up at her, expectant and excited. “Come and see,” he said, waving her over.

Her anger was ebbing away to a heavy annoyance, and she managed to cross towards him without stomping her feet.

“Meet the Nebula Eater,” the Doctor said, shifting the monitor so she could see it.

An article from the galactic hub greeted her, depicting a huge dragon-type creature, the sheer scale of its wingspan difficult for Clara to wrap her mind around. “That’s what’s inside the moon?” she gasped. “Is it a danger to Earth?” The damage a creature of that size could do, even accidentally, was terrifying to think of.

“No, no,” he assured her quickly. “It feeds exclusively on space gas, hence the name. It’s been using the Earth’s gravity, the warmth of the sun, and the protection of the nearby gas-giants as a nesting ground. But once it hatches, it’ll be outside Earth’s heliosphere within a week, I imagine. Probably head out towards Helix or Orion, at a guess.”

“But the... eggshells, whatever’s left of the moon— will that pose a risk to the Earth? Crash through the atmosphere, or screw up the tides even more?”

“That’s where this gets interesting,” the Doctor said, nearly grinning with the excitement of a new discovery. “Look,” he said, scrolling the article down to a subsection titled Reproductive Cycle.

Clara read quickly, absorbing as much as she could in fragmented segments: ...asexual reproduction in the final stage before hatching... significant but temporary increases in local gravity... nesting elements reform around the offspring once the hatchling breaks free... local gravity quickly renormalises...

“Oh my god,” she breathed, taking in the information in front of her. “And if Lundvik kills it?”

“She’ll be murdering two babies, not one, and the gravity of Earth’s moon will never recover.”

“We have to tell her,” she said, looking up at the Doctor.

“Yep, before she does something incredibly stupid. Come on.”

He started for the door, and Clara swiftly caught up with him, halting him with a hand on his arm. “We will finish the rest of this conversation later,” she told him, pinning him with her gaze.

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed seriously, and held the door open for her.

—

It was one thing to read about the hatching of a giant nebula-eating space dragon and quite another to watch it happen from two hundred and fifty thousand miles away. Even at that distance, the Nebula Eater was clearly visible, its newborn wings unfurling to dwarf the remnants of the shattered moon, and the new egg sheltered inside.

Clara stood next to the Doctor, gazing in awe at the life they had helped save, and silently slipped her hand into his, grateful that she hadn’t had to face that decision alone.

—

Later, they sat curled together on Clara’s sofa, gazing up at the full moon through the windows of her sitting room. It would be years yet before the hatching cycle began, before the Nebula Eater’s gravity began to shift and affect Earth. But she knew it was there, now, growing and readying itself for the day it would break through its fragile shell and set off into the universe. They’d almost gotten it wrong today, almost killed a beautiful, innocent creature, out of fear of what the future might bring.

“Are you still angry with me?” the Doctor asked into the silence, his voice a low rumble beneath her ear.

“No,” she said softly, not taking her eyes off the moon or shifting out of his embrace.

They were quiet for several long minutes, then the Doctor muttered, “See, this is why I dislike hugs. They’re just a way to hide your face.”

Clara sighed and sat up, turning to look at him more fully, her bent knees resting against his thigh. “I’m not angry,” she said. “I’m...”

“Don’t say ‘disappointed’, that’s just a fancy way of saying ‘I’m angry but I don’t want to admit to it.’”

She smiled a little at that and shook her head. “Really, I’m not angry, not anymore. But I do think we ought to talk about it.”

“Talking seems to be a big thing with you lately,” the Doctor said in a low voice, glancing at her and away again.

“Yeah, well, get used to it,” she replied, nudging him. “Best way to get past a row, my mum always said. You have to talk it through, make sure there’s nothing left unsaid that can fester.”

“We did the right thing today, Clara,” the Doctor pointed out. “We saved the Nebula Eater, saved the Earth, got Courtney home safe and on-time. So it took us a little shouting to get there, what’s that matter?”

“We have to make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she said reasonably.

“Well, if we run into another Nebula Eater, now we know the signs, and we can make sure the locals don’t try to blow it up.”

“Not that bit, Doctor,” she said, shaking her head and unable to keep from smiling a little. “The shouting at each other bit.”

He watched her for a moment. “Which is, I take it, a serious problem?”

“It was just a row, it happens. Our first row. And it was on the moon, because of course it was.”

He frowned in confusion. “We’ve had plenty of rows before.”

“Well, sure, but it’s different now.”

He only looked more confused. “How?”

“This was our first row since— I don’t even really know what the right term is. This, us,” she said, waving a hand to indicate the two of them. “This new phase we’ve been in since last week, whatever we want to call it.”

“And that’s fundamentally different than before?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I don’t want to reignite the ‘not your boyfriend’ argument, but yes, I’d say so.”

“Why?”

He sounded so genuinely uncertain that Clara took pity on him and answered honestly rather than tease him about it. “Well, there’s the kissing, for one thing.”

“Right. That is new.”

“And finally talking about how we feel,” she added. “Me breaking up with Danny, making that leap. Deciding that it’s going to be you and me, for however long we get. This, whatever it is. There’s lots of terms for this kind of relationship, but none of them feel quite right for us.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor agreed, sounding thoughtful.

“Well, whatever we want to call it, people in this sort of relationship argue sometimes, it’s completely normal. So long as we talk it out, don’t let hurt feelings linger, it’s fine. You know this, Doctor, you’ve done this before.”

“Not like this,” he said, meeting her gaze. “Not with you.”

Clara smiled at him. “We’ll figure it out. A few bumps in the road are nothing to worry about.” She leaned in and kissed him, steadying herself with a hand against his chest. He returned it hesitantly at first, but quickly found his bearings, reaching up to cup her face with one hand.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you today,” she said when they parted, pressing her forehead to his. “It scared me, when I thought you were going to leave me alone there to make that decision. I made you promise once that you’d never send me away again, and I think I’m still afraid that someday you will.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “I promise I won’t send you away,” he said in a low tone. “And I won’t leave you alone in that kind of situation again.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, fighting back tears. She hugged him closer, listening to the steady beat of his hearts.

“I really did think I was doing the right thing, leaving the choice to you,” he said after a moment. “Especially after last week. When it comes to your future, it doesn’t feel right for me to be the one making the decisions. It ought to be up to you.”

“But that’s the thing, it’s not just my future anymore. It’s ours. Which means we make decisions together.”

“Another new rule?”

She smiled against him. “If you like. No dying. We don’t walk away from each other. We make decisions together. We talk things out after a row.” She ticked them off on her fingers.

“Yes, ma’am,” the Doctor replied.

“No, none of that— rule three. What do you think of the proposed rules?”

He shrugged. “I think they’re a good idea. And that perhaps we ought to have one about kissing after a row, too.”

Clara laughed and craned her neck up to accept a quick kiss. “Agreed. And we seem to have silently come to the same conclusion on another rule about kissing: not in front of my students.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, there aren’t any students here now,” he pointed out in a low tone.

“How very observant of you,” Clara said lightly, and for a long while they didn’t talk.

The moon had passed out of the view of her windows, continuing the climb to its zenith, when Clara got up to turn on another lamp in her sitting room. She should go to sleep soon, she knew — she would have work tomorrow, assuming they didn’t sneak in another trip in the TARDIS before then — but she couldn’t bring herself to break the spell of a quiet evening at home with the Doctor.

“You’re not the first with the kissing, you know,” he said when she joined him again on the sofa.

She gave him a bemused smile. “You’ve been married four times before, had children and grandchildren. I didn’t think I was the first.”

“No, I mean— your echoes.”

“Ah.”

“Handsy lot in general, those women with your face. A few of them decided to take it a step further.”

“Well, you can hardly blame us,” Clara said airily. “A dashing mad man falls out of the sky with a snogbox, what are we meant to think?”

“It’s not a snogbox!” the Doctor said, scowling, and she had to laugh, remembering how his last face had insisted on the same.

“Kinda is, now,” she grinned at him.

He flapped his hands at her, struggling to find the words. “The rules are different, for you, for this,” he finally said. “That doesn’t excuse your echoes taking liberties.”

She kissed him again, still laughing, for no other reason than because she could. “I suppose I was already in love with you when I went into your timestream,” she said when she pulled back and settled beside him again. “I suspect that’s part of why I did it in the first place. Which means they all sprang into life with that as part of their fundamental makeup, like being short or having brown hair.”

“Or eyes the size of saucers.”

“Or the ability to put up with you,” she countered lightly.

“Ha ha ha,” he returned dryly, but she could tell that his thoughts had moved on to something else, his gaze distant.

She let him brood for a few minutes then said, “Alright, something’s on your mind, so: out with it. Don’t let anything fester.”

He hesitated before asking, voice low and serious, “What is this for you?”

“What do you mean?” she frowned at him in confusion.

“I made some assumptions today and that got me into trouble,” the Doctor said slowly, gaze darting up to find hers. “And I’d like to avoid doing that again. I’m trying to understand what this ‘new phase’ is, or whatever you called it.”

“Don’t you know?” she asked, looking at him curiously.

“I really don’t. You gave up Danny for this, gave up that whole future. When you said there was no version of you down there on Earth, no children or grandchildren, you sounded so sure. You said you were in love with that old soldier version of me, but you talk about the future like you’re utterly certain of it, of this choice you’ve made. I’m just— I’m trying to understand.”

Clara smiled at him fondly and shook her head. “Daft old man. I’m in love with you. With this version of you, the one sitting right beside me. And every version of you that came before. Every face, every good day, every bad day. Every bit of you, for always. What is this for me? This is the defining relationship of my life, Doctor. Me and you, for as long as we get. I can’t promise you forever, but I can promise you all of my tomorrows. So yes, I am utterly certain about my future, about the only thing I need to know about it: that you will be in it.”

He was silent for a long while, mulling that over, then without warning blurted out, “I think we should get married.”

She blinked up at him, shocked into silence for a moment. “I— um. Wow. Where did that come from?”

“You said you didn’t know what to call it, what we are to each other. It would simplify things.” He shrugged awkwardly. “I think we should get married.” He seemed completely sincere about it, which only made the whole thing stranger.

“Doctor, I don’t need a piece of paper or some legality to make this official,” she said, shifting around to see him better. “I told you, I’m in this for the long-haul. And I know you’ve been married before, I wouldn’t ask you to—”

“You’re not asking. I’m asking,” he said, flicking his gaze to hers and away again.

“But... why? Doesn’t seem like you’d be much interested in the legalities, either.”

He sighed and scrubbed one hand through his hair. “It’s not about the legal paperwork. It’s more... cultural, I suppose you could say.”

She turned that over in her mind. “Time Lord thing, then, yeah?”

He nodded slowly. “On... on Gallifrey, everyone’s a touch-telepath,” he explained, meeting her eyes again and smiling slightly, though it was pained, and Clara realised how incredibly difficult this must be for him to talk about. “Most people live in giant, densely populated cities, have done for thousands of generations. In that kind of situation, there must be rules about who you let into your mind, and how deeply. That’s what marriage is to Time Lords. There are parts of myself that I can’t share with you, unless we’re married. Parts of me that will always stay locked away. This is the defining relationship of your life? Well, it is for me, too. And I don’t want to go about it with half-measures.”

That explanation wasn’t at all what she had expected. “That... makes sense,” she finally managed.

“So,” he said when she didn’t say anything else. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” she repeated, still trying to wrap her mind around everything he’d just said, and the sudden realisation of where they were headed. “I think...” She took a deep breath and looked up at him. “I think you should ask me properly.”

He darted his gaze around in confusion. “Did I not just—”

“Doctor, this is the only time I am ever going to do this,” she said. “You are it for me, for life. So if I’m only ever going to get the one marriage proposal, I want it to be a proper one, is all.”

He shot her a narrowed-eye look. “Now would probably be a bad time to bring up the whole ‘egomaniacal control freak’ thing, wouldn’t it?”

Clara wrinkled up her nose at him, mostly to keep from laughing. “Very bad time, yes.”

“Do I have to get down on my knees?” he whinged. “Only, that crevasse I jumped into today was actually quite deep, and I didn’t want to mention it but I am rather sore, and your sofa is surprisingly comfortable.”

From the twinkle in his eyes she knew he was teasing her, and she pursed her lips around the laugh that was still trying to escape. “No, you don’t have to get down on your knees, daft old man. Just, ask me properly!”

“Oh, alright, fine. Properly, properly,” he muttered, shaking out his hands as though he needed to be warmed up and limber for this, and she smothered a giggle.

He drew in a deep breath and took both her hands in his, catching and holding her gaze with an intensity that made her breathing go shallow.

Time and space seemed to crystalise around her, and Clara was starkly conscious of being in her body, in this instant, in this place, sitting beside this man. Beyond the current moment, the past and the future seemed to be tangible things. There was everything that had come before, the years of her own life and all the lives of her echoes, every time she had met the Doctor, stretching out behind her. And there was everything yet to come, the universe expanding, planets forming, stars blinking into existence and out again, all the years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds she would spend with this man, on this path they had chosen.

She was abruptly aware of a door in her mind, the line of demarcation between the inner world and the outer world, between the things that were Clara Oswald and the things that were not. There was a sense of equilibrium between them, the inner and the outer, her personal universe compressed to fit into her five-foot-one frame, but not smaller, not lesser. Everything she was, in balance with everything that was.

And on that door, there came a tapping.

“Clara Oswald,” the Doctor said seriously, and the knocking at the edge of her mind intensified. “Will you marry me?”

She could feel her body, her current place in time and space, the heat of the room, the softness of her sofa, the light of the moon outside. She could feel the Doctor, his hands just slightly cool on her own, the physicality of him in that outer world, as stable as always. But she could feel him just on the other side of that mental door as well, asking for entry, closer than he had ever been.

Her answer would change everything, solidify the trajectory of her future. It would open that door, pair it with the matching one in the Doctor’s mind. The equilibrium would hold, she knew. The borders of her internal universe would remain in place, but they would gain another dimension, transcend and unfurl in ways she could hardly conceptualise with the door still closed.

Is this what you want? she had asked the Doctor, and the question echoed back to her in the confines of her mind. To build a life with me? Just you and me, for however long we get?

“Yes,” she breathed, utterly certain.

The Doctor grinned at her, and the door at the borders of her mind flew open, near to bursting with joy.

[mattatouile]

Okay, beneath the cut is the way I approach writing explicit sex scenes. this is not a how-to guide, nor am I suggesting that my way is the best way, but this is how I got comfortable writing sex scenes myself and why I find them fairly easy to write (beneath a cut because...well, I don’t mince words). 

Oh, and I’ve tried to watch gendered language and kept it to what parts the person has, rather than what gender they identify as. Sorry if I missed any!

Also, ultimately, don’t worry too much and just write it. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Humans are rarely if ever perfect.

I’m going to bullet point this because I find that...the only way I like talking about things is bullet points.

My first and foremost thought when I begin writing a sex scene is where and when I want to talk about the feelings they’re having. It’s not all orgasmic. There are...surprises sometimes. I have a REALLY intense startle reflex, so sometimes if I get touched somewhere new, even if I’m in the moment my body is like WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT, like it’s a goddamn bug even though I KNOW what it is. (It has never been a bug.) Not even in a bad way, you’re just EXTREMELY keyed up and sensitive to touch and your nerve-endings know that shit. 

I find it kind of amusing but extremely flattering when someone says that my sex scenes are realistic, because lately I’ve been writing a lot of heterosexual sex scenes and i’ve never not once in my life encountered a penis up close, much less an erect one.

I got comfortable writing about cocks because I was in my very early 20s and very virginal and had a very bisexual, sexually active cis-male good/best friend that was more than happy to read my first forays into smut writing and tell me for sure if it sounded like the penis-haver in my fic sounded realistic. 

Everyone’s dick and everyone’s vulva is different, and what works for everyone is different. As in: some penis-havers like a scrap of teeth in a blowjob, some nipple-havers enjoy biting of their nipples, and for some penis-havers and nipple-havers THESE ARE SOLID NOs. So, mix things up! And! Don’t be afraid during a first sex scene between two characters to have them “mess up” and learn what each other likes. 

In either oral or penetrative or fingerblasting, don’t spend too much time thumb-twiddling over the number of folds and creases and veins and foreskin. It’s not the most erotic part of it to me. It could be for others! But like... you don’t NEED to overcomplicate things or overexplain. It begins to sound like interior design or fashion design at some point, though, with all the frills and folds and velvety and silky skin. 

Don’t worry during the first draft about how many times you use the word slick or wet or slide or thrust or hips or clit or whatever, you’ll drive yourself crazy that way and you may lose the rhythm of the scene. 

Rhythm! Just like in real life, keep in mind that the sex scene should have a sense of rhythm. Don’t get too hung up on all of the minute details. 

That being said, try to keep track of how many hands and limbs everyone has. It is distracting when an extra hand appears.

I know this is weird to some people, but this happens all the time in published romance/erotica/etc. TRY to visualize the series of positions the characters are in if they move around. Luckily, if you’re going for missionary the whole way, you’re not in too much danger of this problem. But I have read SO MANY sex scenes where I cannot make any sense of what position they’re in after a transition and it takes me right out of the scene. Missionary is fine, because at least people know what’s going on. It’s way better than, “are they upside down now???”

If they’re going to fuck against a wall and the vagina-haver has on pants, please think about how they’re going to achieve penetration. I have never in my life met a vagina-haver that can keep their pants have on and just shoved down and have front-to-front sex. A penis-haver? Sure! But like...try to think about how the penis is getting in, and then think about how they’re going to do it comfortably enough to enjoy themselves, especially if one part is a lot shorter than the other. (Might I suggest the penetrated partner be facing the wall braced on their hands? That’s a good time! Just make sure it makes sense. Khal Drogo fucking Dany while she’s facing a wall and they’re standing is...a difficult thing to figure out just based on logistics)

Use the words you wanna use for the genitalia at first. Don’t worry about it until you go back and edit. I like the word cunt. I find it lovely and I find pussy SO MUCH GROSSER and so much sleazier in an explicit scene. But my experience isn’t universal and you can’t really worry too much about what everyone else likes. I mean, I would suggest avoid calling a clitoris a pleasure pearl. But like...you do you.

I’ve never in my life met a vagina-haver who had a sweet-tasting crotch. That’s just...not going to happen, and it makes me immediately bummed out to read it, frankly. It feels like one of those weird standards that ends up in romance that human beings can’t live up to? Like, somehow, even our vaginas have to be delicate and dainty and sweet. Like, no. Pussy tastes like pussy. If you don’t have one, just imagine what a crotch smells like on anyone. If it tastes sweet you might want to see a doctor about a yeast infection or diabetes. It’s just not great. (It’s also ... not floral? It’s musky down there. I’d avoid calling it MUSTY because that’s not great. But it’s a bit musky for sure.) But I also find it immeasurably sexier to be realistic about what the taste and smell are. It’s a very visceral thing. 

Vaginal ‘virginity’ loss in a modern fic doesn’t need to be dramatic AF. It’s not always the hymen that makes things painful. Don’t be afraid to bring lube into the equation, include foreplay, and it doesn’t need to be either unrealistic or overly dramatic. Slow and steady wins the penetration race. I mean, it WOULD be deeply unpleasant if the penis-haver (or dildo-haver) just rammed it in there without proper prep, so, you do you. Obviously, this is about modern AUs. BASICALLY: the penetration isn’t ALWAYS the biggest thing about having sex for the first time. It’s like...everything else that leads up to it. 

The odds of a vagina-haver coming from vaginal penetration alone is...not great, even if it’s their soulmate fucking them. Also, it’s fun to include clitoral stimulation! 

Sex is messy and sex is fun and sex is awkward and sex is hot. And the best sex I’ve had is all of the above in one session. There are a lot of logistics sometimes, but that’s actually part of the fun of it. You’re all in the muck together having a good time. It’s like an obstacle course in the mud but with more erections or vulvas...probably. 

Dick size is boring. Monster cocks aren’t everyone’s cuppa and also not terribly likely. Mini cocks never happen because people don’t think that’s sexy. If you’ve never been fucked by a monster cock, just bear in mind that for a LOT of people it’s ... not comfortable, much less a mind-altering experience. And frankly, getting into the details of everyone’s various specific sizes is... an odd way to approach a sex scene for me? I care more about the fact that someone has feelings about the person being naked in the first place, not about the dimensions of the cocks or vags. 

Any position can be romantic if both parties are super into it and super into each other. But think twice about 69. It’s logistically awkward for many couples. (again, Khal Drogo and Dany. How is she gonna get her mouth on his cock and be close enough for him to get his mouth on her snatch, ya know? And ...to what purpose?)

Anyway! Those are just my notes about how I approach sex scenes. 

[a-collection-of-villainous-aus]

Blind Au

Drabble 3....uhhhh here you go, slides this out closes rock door and hides probably like forever. Will probably notice typos misspellings so on so forth after posting lol.

"Are you sure this is permanent, I cannot exactly give you a diagnosis when I have not been allowed to study you before."

Flug was looking over the readings on his clipboard, Hat had never so much as even let himself be scanned prior to this moment, how was the Doctor supposed to instantaneously understand all this jibberish, such complex equations, beyond anything ever seen before, it said Black Hat existed and yet didn't that he was alive but not, the coins edge neither one side or the other, absolutely perplexing to the mind but fascinating all the same.

"Are there not...those of your kind trained in the medical field?"

He enquired, already having a feeling he knew that answer, but finding one here seemed like it might just very well be impossible the doctor thought while turning the page.

The demons mint coloured teeth were clenched, jaw tense as he ground out

"My kind as you put it are not in the business of caring for each other...I destroyed anyone I thought would be a decent challenge...they were all worthless in the end."

Black Hat was currently sitting on one of Flug's desks as he'd refused to go in the infirmary where he would have been left alone in his darkness with only irritating beeps and other small sounds that may as well have been screaming at him.

" Well you seemed to think taking Demencia's eyes was good idea, obviously though her eyes are genuinely too important too take..."

He paused a moment, fingers drumming on the clipboard before suggesting

"Perhaps we could set up a ceremony in your cult, make some elaborate lie that you need to feast on the body and keep the eyes as treasured memorabilia that someone willingly fed themselves to you."

"Or we could just get someone off the street and take their eyes."

Black Hat returned flatly, how in the hell was Flug...Acylius, so matter of fact about all of this!

He could hear the scrawling of the pen, his breathing, heartbeat...while Hat was showing himself to be fine, he was honestly anything but.

Everything was so intense, despite only seeing a world of ebony he could feel those harsh cold lights, all of the doctor's chemicals, while able to detect each one singularly they also merged as a whole, a part...well more than a part of him wanted to press his face against Acylius's throat, take in his scent.

Even when he'd made the annual visit to see the troops at his University he recalled how the doctor had smelled even then, it was the first time they met.

Pfft please, no mortals eyes deserve to rest in your skull, they are not worthy enough.

Flug thought in response, scoffing at the idea, inwardly of course.

The demon though was letting his mind wander recalling he'd even asked him why he donned such a peculiar object on his head.

(waves hands, why don't we just do a flash back, bloody idiot writer.)

Black Hat had seated himself on the edge of a desk in his University that belonged some teacher, ankles crossed as he half looked with interest over a black and red paperweight, colours swirling within, similar to something akin to a place he'd once considered home.

Claws tapping over the object he then pocketed it, this supposed top of the line student was running late.

A few more minutes and he would leave, his time was too valuable too waste.

Finally the large oak door creaked open, fear filling his nostrils as well as coffee and fast food, he near expected some slob to come through but instead what stepped through was a lean man of six ft and seven inches to be precise.

He was a near tower of a man, for some strange reason he wore a recycling bin on his head, no wait he could sense an energy all around him, he was wearing something that disguised him to the world, some type of hologuise band on his wrist, so what did the others usually see then, the demon allowed his sight to be tricked by this creation.

Ah so that's what they saw, a nervous man hunched over and a good foot shorter, the bin was very real though and that nervous disposition seemed somewhat genuine, there had been photo's of Kenning Flug slys taken and shown to him or so he had assumed until now, now it was a question of was there were in fact any images in existence of this man.

Even Kenning was an Alias, his real name was Acylius Flug.

So question was what did this doctorrr look like?

What did it matter, he was here to study his work...not pick up on the subtle hints of vanilla...sandalwood, oh? Was that a surprisingly expensive whisky in there to amongst that myriad of tantalising aromas, sweet and warming, touching the tip of his tongue to his teeth, wondering what he'd taste like, especially with that intoxicating smell of smoke that only fires left behind.

Pupil momentarily dilating in excitement, it was not unheard of that Black Hat would bed a student at the University if they took his fancy for Five minutes.

Holding out a hand the demon snapped, usual scowl falling into place, good job that bin was on his head, he was supposed to be angry at him...not expressing an interest in his...everything.

"You are late, you had better pray that your work makes up for it"

"My apologies sir, it is not a mistake I intend to repeat again."

Oh no...even his real voice held that of a warm gavel, cigar smoke evenings mixed with a feeling of deep velvet red.

(Ultron's voice without the robotic sound)

Clearing his throat he returned

"You are correct in that matter, if you do continue such behaviour, you forfeit any possibility in working for me."

The slight nervousness in Acylius Flug's voice seemed a little forced, intriguing.

A brow raised, flipping through the pages in hand he had to admit these were extremely organised and well put together and what was here put this man as being one of the most intelligent beings on Earth.

(Alas sadly I am not, so do not expect any cool scientific facts from me LOL)

His scientific prowess was almost reaching off world levels, even that hologuise did not change his form with the shift of light to be made hard, it literally changed his cells to transform his body.

"I am curious, why exactly do you wear that bin and make your self look like that? With your natural height you could put the fear into most..."

He trailed off, looking him up and down, thinking of those long...long legs wrapped around his waist in an attempt to crush him, did they ever end, that height did send tingles down his spine as he bit his bottom lip.

" I do not want people staring at me for one and I would rather they had their attention drawn to the bin than my face."

Flug replied curtly, fists clenching, he knew that tone all too well.

"Are you having fun imagining me in bed with you sir? We are supposed to be here discussing my work are we not...also when I reveal myself to a victim I get to enjoy their horror as they realise the mistake they have made."

A smirk forming on his features

" I am sure you have sensed, I am not entirely human."

"Yes indeed and perhaps I was, there is no shame in admiring art when it is there to see."

"Oh, what next you intend to draw me like one of your French boys or some ridiculous shit."

Studying Flug's work once more he actually snorted at his students response, sensing the eye roll even under that bin, he was liking him all for more because he wasn't throwing himself at him.

"Does it not get a little warm under there, all that hot breath, condensation on the plastic, the air is no doubt hot and stale in there."

Black Hat was trying to make him want to take that thing off, make him feel claustrophobic inside of that recycling bin, he wanted to see his face, of course he could have demanded it but where was the fun in that.

Chuckling at the audible swallow, watching as his hands fidgeted.

"Why not take it off, perhaps I could give you a little fresh air."

He purred, coming in closer.

"No offence sir but I would prefer to be taken seriously in my work."

The old demon was disappointed when he moved away, practically flinching at his advances, should he be offended?

Perhaps, but it wasn't disgust he sensed from him, no it was something more guarded.

"You are being taken seriously, though a little pleasure with business never hurt."

Usually he was not so fascinated by the presence of a student, none who had been in his sights in this way had lasted with their clothes on for long and in this case bin as well and it well and truly seemed like they weren't making it to the office desk or floor anytime soon.

"My work is my pleasure, outside pleasures are mere distractions."

(End of Flash back)

"It was so green."

Flug had been taking in the readings on the medical charts, if they could even be called that and checking him over when he heard that wistful voice, making him pause, only the soft humming of machines in their quiet with the odd beep here and there could be heard.

That distant stare in his masters eye was unsettling, that was something he was going to need to get used to...something Black Hat would have to live with forever.

"Acylius, are you still there?"

Black Hat knew he was, though the mostly quiet was beginning to close in around him, all this darkness there was nothing visual to focus on, to distract.

It was like being born again, when existence was not even a thing where he was no more than a single thing, dark within darkness, when the first light spread open its flowering petals he wept at its beauty, never knowing he'd feared that endless abyss would be all he'd ever know until now.

"What was green sir?"

The doctor asked gently as he set down his clipboard, the sound he noticed made Hat twitch and focus on its source , shoulders falling at a near audible breath.

"That ridiculous bin you used to wear on your head."

Hat rolled his eye, unaware that Flug had just been about to examine his eye again, partially bent down, Hats hand landed directly on his face...his bagless, bare face.

He was tense, feeling the warmth of his skin through his glove, then again his clothes were a part of him, they were him.

So.

Flug just felt NOW would be a good time to expose his face when he couldn't see.

In another circumstance his fingers would have explored over his features, lips, nose to see what he looked like finally...but this stung, it was a cruel joke, he usually was up for those...but not like this.

Flug might as well be mocking the fact that he was blind!

Claw tips pressed into flesh as a distinct growl of annoyance left him, Acylius had dared not moved in case Black Hat decided to rip his face off.

"So, you're taking advantage of my condition, my eyes unable to see are now your masks to which you hide behind. You are to tell me that bear even Demencia have seen this exposed, but not me?"

His eye went grey with streaks of blue as the rage swelled within him, those colours had changed with the demons affliction

"Do you find my condition some kind of joke, do you enjoy mocking me boy, are you amused now!"

Black Hat snarled shoving him back, hearing the stumbling and desperate grabbing at items a sudden yelp he near laughed until the sudden thud of something hard and the scent of blood.

People usually complained when bleeding, whimpered, made some kind of fuss....

His brow furrowed

"Flug?"

Silence....

"Acylius?"

Silence...

"Mine?"

He asked weakly, climbing off the table, hands out trying to search for his doctor, why wasn't he answering, he could still hear him breathing-

The demon tripped on one of Acylius's long legs, eye widening, using his hands to feel over him.... Well that was impressive....no focus, not the time, Flug could be dying right now, he needed to find where the blood was coming from.

Everyone believed he could control how long his workers lived for, what stupid nonsense, he'd even admitted to vomiting on his last scientist and saying 'and now we have Flug.'

This man was his, even if the bastard felt nothing for him, the doctor belonged to him, no one was going to take Acylius away, the demon would fight death itself blind or not!

Resting his hand on the tiled floor he came in contact with a thick warm liquid, this...this needed to go back inside.

That labored breathing was growing more and more shallow, crimson light engulfing his hands, the blood started receding, coming alive almost as it crawled back to where it'd spilled from, following the trail to the back of his head, hair clumped and matted until it wasn't.

His doctor was still unconscious, but he would live, no one would believe him capable of the evil he could do, especially as he lay there with his head on Flug's chest listening to his heart beat.

With each beat he made his breath follow, taking in his warmth.

Black Hat, once truly believed seeing the first light had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen...but that day they met, that wonderful soul, it's burning red, like fires endless and bright, he'd seen and knew there were no words in all the billions of languages to describe Acylius.

It didn't matter if he was still faceless to him, this being was the first true light in his dark world.

What had his doctor hurt himself on...reaching out, it must be something close.

There was something wooden...with a metal front, claw tips finding all the little holes and jack ports, knuckles knocking on its surface, he knew that dull metallic sound.

Demencia's amp, Demencia had been the reason Flug had nearly died, he was going to kill her!

(He's shifting blame obviously, Flug will absolutely set that straight I assure you!)

End

[cavaliant]

Do you have any modern AU headcanons? What's your muse's job? What's their living situation like? Do they have any family or friends? (Any muse!)

//This was unexpected, but thank you for asking! I do have a vague outline of everyone’s modern occupations here, (with extra details about Jamke here–the two jobs he works are probably just entry-level ones like cashier or sales associate).

Here I guess I’ll talk about Reinhardt because he has the most developed modernverse in my head? This got a LOT longer than I intended so I’m gonna divide it into sections…I guess it was just the trigger for a flood of hcs I just needed a little push to write lmao. 

(Also as a side note, my talk of schooling is based on the Canadian schooling system because that’s the one I know lol)

Elementary to High School:

Similarly to my canonverse for him, Reinhardt was considered a prodigy from a very young age, and was tutored intensively by his parents who held him to very high standards. He was a straight-A student on honour roll all throughout school (he probably skipped at least one grade). When he went to high school he took the electives his parents pushed for him (think STEM-related things like calculus and physics).

Though Reinhardt performed incredibly well in subjects such as the maths, sciences, and history, and fairly well at English, music, and gym, he had more difficulties with visual and performing arts, which were abandoned anyway in high school at his parents’ discretion. I really wanna say he went through the Asian six pack (3 maths–advanced functions, calculus and vectors, and data management, plus 3 sciences–chemistry, biology, physics) but he’s German in modernverse lmfao.

University:

His parents initially would’ve preferred for him to become a doctor or a lawyer or something, but the subject where he truly shone was physics, and so he ended up going to university to study it, with the end goal of eventually becoming a physics professor (and, in his parents’ minds, publishing papers, teaching at some renowned uni, etc.). Initially I wasn’t sure whether he was a high school teacher or a college/uni prof in this verse, but I decided his parents wouldn’t have settled for anything “less”.

As in high school, Reinhardt was a very diligent uni student, extremely strict about time management, and didn’t really have much of a social life beyond designated club/student organization activities and necessary networking for the future. He finished his Bachelor’s, Masters, and PhD in quite a short amount of time and became a college professor at a fairly young age.

Current Familial Relations:

His parents are quite pleased with him currently, and they still speak, though their relationship still has that underlying distance and detachment it did all his life. They do not, however, speak much (if at all) to Olwen, which is a point of tension between them all.

Reinhardt loves them all and desperately wants to remain close with both his parents and his sister, but they cannot reconcile their views, and he can’t bring himself to pick a side. Thus, while she used to drop by and see him every so often after he moved out, she doesn’t really do so anymore, because things have become rather awkward between them.

(As for the reason for the disagreement, I’d have to talk to an Olwen RPer about that. Though I imagine it has something to do with her not following their expectations for her. I’m not sure if they’d go as far as disowning her, but they’d certainly be pretty frigid towards her and she probably spends most of her time crashing at friends’ places?)

Living Situation and Friends:

Reinhardt currently lives alone in a condo with one bedroom (for him) and a guest room. His parents helped him acquire the place as a ‘congrats for getting a good job’ gift (though really, you could argue that this was just another instance of them controlling his life). 

He teaches physics at the same college where Linus works, Linus being a security guard who likes to barge into his classroom to bother him (which sometimes also causes Fergus to barge in to bother Linus). Reinhardt’s TA is Reyson, a vocal performance major who for some reason decided his class needed a babysitter and is now TA-ing for a completely unrelated subject. Kaden is a peppy guy who tries to get him to get out more.

Personality/Mental State:

In terms of his mental state, he isn’t passively suicidal in this verse, nor is his self-worth quite so low, but he still doesn’t really have an understanding of his own desires or sense of purpose. He likes physics because it is rational and helps to explain the world around him, but if you forced him to self-reflect he wouldn’t know whether that’s his own genuine like of it or a result of his parents’ conditioning of him. He doesn’t really know what he wants out of his own life, but he doesn’t think about things like that unless something forces him.

He’s a naturally serious and hardworking person, but his extremely workaholic nature and need to be productive/useful is a result of his upbringing. As in his canonverse, polite social interactions are fine for him, but more casual or friendly interactions have him somewhat awkward, as he really doesn’t do much outside of work unless his friends drag him.

Romance:

It isn’t really something he thinks about, and he currently considers himself devoted entirely to his work. He has declined a few requests in the past with the excuse of needing to focus on his studies/research/etc., though as he grows older his parents have been dropping more unsubtle hints that they’d like grandchildren someday.

It isn’t that he’s completely uninterested in having a relationship, it’s just that he would need to be very close to someone already (and they would need to initiate it) for that to even be an option on the table.

However, as a silly side note, both his students and Linus’ fellow security guards have bets (some jokingly, some for real) on the supposed “love triangle” going on between Linus, the guy he loves to bug a lot (Reinhardt), and the guy who loves to bug him a lot (Fergus) ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[tenscupcake]

the null hypothesis (7/?)

fitzsimmons. teen. ~3k this ch. *sincerest apologies to my readers patiently waiting on ep. this one is far easier to update since it’s finished. bear with me! as soon as work slows down it’s first priority.* but, as per usual, this fic is a freakin' blossom of pure joy in my life and reading through it again takes me to a completely different place. i hope it brings some of that happiness to you guys, as well. <3 summary: roughly one out of every six people can't feel touch; that is, until their soulmate touches them. fitz and jemma are two indignant contributors to that statistic, content to devote their lives to science rather than searching for their supposed 'other half.' both too clever for high school, they head off to university at sixteen, completely unaware their fates are about to become intertwined. but in a world where soulmates don't always match, it's not always easy to confess to a stranger. a soulmate au with a twist. this chapter on ao3 | back to chapter 1 on ao3

By the fourth week, Fitz genuinely can’t imagine his life without Jemma. Which is stupid. He barely even knows her. They’ve yet to spend any time together outside of this lab.

It’s just... everything about her.

How intently she listens. How she never stops talking about physiology and biochemistry but he doesn’t mind listening to it. The constant intellectual challenge she presents – he finds himself studying harder these days merely so he always has a new topic with which to impress her. The way she says his name even when it’s not necessary, almost as though it’s just fun for her to say. And damn it if that recipe she sent him wasn’t the best bloody sandwich he’s ever had.

He hasn’t talked to her since Wednesday, when he texted her saying as much.

That sandwich was delicious, he’d said.

It had taken her a little over an hour to respond. The longest hour of his life.

Glad you enjoyed it! :D

He hasn’t initiated a conversation since, and to his dismay, neither has she.

But this is very new, this tenuous friendship they have. He doesn’t want to push it by getting too clingy.

When he walks into the lab and sees her already there waiting for him at their bench, he does his best to act like he hasn’t been dying to see her all week.

He has no way of knowing, of course, but it seems like she’s as pleased to see him as he is to see her, and the mere thought has his heart soaring.

He has half a mind to drag out today’s experiment by purposely messing up on certain steps. Knocking over a beaker here, adding an incorrect volume there. But he thinks better of it, for two reasons. First, Jemma would probably catch him before he made any time-consuming mistakes and prevent him from committing them. Second, whether or not he was successful in delaying the experiment, she’d probably think he was clumsy or less intelligent as a result. And he absolutely cannot have that. He’d rather have an hour less time with her than disqualify himself from her companionship for making himself out to be denser than he is.

So he goes along with their usual highly efficient pace, dividing up tasks whenever they can, taking turns when they can’t. Both of their methods and quantitation flawless.

Fitz expects the daydreams about her when he’s in another class, or alone back at his dorm, or eating dinner with suitemates that are trying to be nice him.

But today, it’s getting hard not to daydream about her even when he’s with her.

He can’t stop imagining what it’d be like if they were in a proper relationship. How many things that are currently off-limits would be commonplace, even expected. Wrapping her in hug when he sees her, simply because he missed her and he’s ecstatic to hold her in his arms again. Sitting next to each other on his bed in the evenings, watching Doctor Who, putting his arm around her to pull her closer. And more explicitly romantic things, too. Like kissing her.

It’s only recently he’s started ponder that concept. Kissing. He couldn’t bear the thought of it for most of his life: an awkward, messy practice that seemed to have little purpose except to spread germs. But with a bit of time to process his newly functioning neurons (and conclude that he rather likes them), he’s softened to the idea. From what relatively little he knows of anatomy, he’s aware that lips are among the most sensitive spots.

That in itself is intriguing: a touch of hands feels quite nice, now, so how much nicer would a touch of lips feel?

On top of that, there’s the fact that lately his eyes always seem to subconsciously drift to Jemma’s mouth when he’s looking at her. Her lips are pink and enticing in a way he can’t really make sense of. And, a scientist through and through, he can’t help but grow more and more curious why he’s so drawn to them. What everyone else is always fussing about. If they’re as soft and smooth as they look. What they’d feel like pressed against his.

The lab is over too soon, again.

During the ten minutes they spend cleaning up and finishing their recorded observations of the session, Fitz is trying to muster up the courage to ask her to do something with him. He really needs to start showing her he wants to be friends, not just lab partners. Being proper mates is the only way he’ll ever find out what he needs to know, because he’s already spent of ideas contrive another platonic touch within these walls.

He decides to go with asking her to get dinner with him. It’s just a friendly gesture, perfectly innocent. The school’s café is hardly a romantic setting. Loud, bright, crowded.

When Jemma offers him her usual goodbye as she puts her things into her bag, she has a brilliant smile reserved for him as always.

Fitz takes a deep breath. Now’s his last chance.

But, after only a fraction of a second being on the receiving end of that smile, he’s suddenly gripped with terror that it could likely disappear as soon as he’s asked. Turn into a cringe, a frown, or something else unpleasant as she tries to think of a way to let him down easy.

His question dies right on the tip of his tongue.

Instead, he says the same thing he always does when she inevitably says goodbye to him.

“See you.”

What he doesn’t expect, as Jemma walks past him for the door, is the light touch of her hand on his exposed forearm.

Fitz nearly has a bloody heart attack.

As soon as she’s cleared the doorway, the goggles and pen in his hand clatter to the floor as he hurries to investigate the newly sentient spot on his left arm. Tracing the shape of Jemma’s hand, testing the sensitivity of the area with the tip of his finger.  

Having skipped lunch, he’d been planning all day to get some food straight after this lab, but dinner in a crowded cafeteria is just about out of the question now. He rushes straight back to his dorm, instead, his hand hardly leaving his arm. It’s embarrassing, that even the fourth time this has happened, it still affects him so strongly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders how he would be able to stay conscious – survive, even – if this were happening across wider areas. The tiny patches she gets in any one instance are just about enough to reduce him to hysterics. As long as Jemma is around, he can hold himself together all right, but once he’s alone again, it always catches up with him. The calm façade crumbles, and fast.

As he’s rushing down the fourth-floor hall to his room, he passes by the RA’s door, and can’t help but notice it’s open.

Phil is in there, seated at his desk, his attention fixed on his computer. He’s got his glasses on, which means he’s in study mode. Fitz knows he has his qualifying exam coming up (he’s a doctoral student in history), and would hate to disturb him. He glances at the posted advising hours for the week posted on the whiteboard. Then checks his phone. Yep, right in the middle of them.

Phil had been nicer than anyone else on the floor the day Fitz moved in. Had said repeatedly that he could come to him with anything, school-related or not. Always has a smile and friendly greeting for Fitz when he sees him. Makes the occasional stop by his room to make sure he’s settling in okay, ask about his coursework.

Fitz looks down at his arm. Feels his heart thudding against his chest. This soulmate business is becoming a real problem. It’s properly taking over his life. And Phil seems like a good person to talk to. Friendly, and an order of magnitude more mature and professional than the undergraduates filling out the dormitory.

It couldn’t hurt to try.

Fitz knocks lightly on the open door. Phil turns around immediately.

“Hey, Leo,” he greets him with a smile.

Odd. The only person he’s spoken to in person with any frequency the last few weeks is Jemma, and she exclusively calls him Fitz. It sounds almost strange to hear ‘Leo’ spoken aloud now.

“Erm, you can call me... Fitz,” he says, tenuously.

“You got it,” Phil nods. “So, Fitz, what can I do for you?”

“I actually just wanted to ask you something, if I could.”

“I’m all ears.” He swipes off his reading glasses and tucks them into the pocket of his shirt. “Why don’t you sit down?” he gestures to the plush couch next to his desk.

Fitz hurries over to it and sits on the end closest to the desk, dropping his bag on the floor at his feet.

“I have a... problem.”

“Mhm,” Phil nods, as though that much was obvious by Fitz walking in here at all. “What kind of problem?”

“It’s...” Fitz breaks away from Phil’s overly concerned gaze. It’s obvious that he cares, whatever the problem is, and is eager to help. Fitz doesn’t want to disappoint him with a problem as trivial and common and romance. “A girl,” he confesses with a grimace.

“Someone you like?” he asks.

“To say the least.”

“Tell me about her,” he prods.

Fitz takes a deep breath, bouncing his fingertips together. “I think she’s... my soulmate.”

“You think?” Phil asks, a smile on his face like Fitz is making a joke.

“Right, okay, she is,” Fitz admits.

“Did you meet her here?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you like her?”

“Yes, I do,” Fitz rushes out, feeling the need to come to her defence. Phil had asked as though disliking her were even an option. “She’s... incredible.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Phil asks, genuinely looking confused.

“The problem is, I don’t know if I’m hers.”

Phil gapes at him for a long second before asking incredulously, “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I mean, I don’t,” he snaps without intending to. “I haven’t told her. We haven’t talked about it.”

“How’s that even possible?” The way he asks, it’s almost a statement that he doesn’t intend Fitz to answer.

Fitz sighs. He’ll have to start at the beginning, then. 

He walks Phil through a (very) abridged version of the whole story – from being bullied in high school to that life-changing handshake and its lonely aftermath.

“Fitz, I completely understand you being nervous to come clean,” Phil says, once he’s had a few moments to process. “But you have to find out if your hers, too.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I know.” That much, he’d figured out on his own. “But how?”

Phil doesn’t answer his question, but his face scrunches up in thought, and he stares at Fitz as though the answers are written on his face somewhere.

“Has she tried to touch you at all since then?” he asks.

“Well.” Fitz thinks back to the last few weeks. “Yeah.”

He tells Phil about the pen, and the tie incident, and her touching his arm earlier.

“I honestly can’t believe you were able to keep that quiet.”

Fitz throws himself back against the couch, exasperated. “Is that all you got out of that?” he throws his hands up dramatically.

“I just... I can’t imagine! When I found mine, I freaked out.”

“You’ve,” Fitz interrupts him shakily, surprised. “You’ve got one, too?”

“Mhm.” Phil nods, and Fitz leans over on his knees again, more rapt than before. “And I’m serious, I don’t think I could’ve contained myself if my life depended on it.”

Fitz is silent for a few breaths. Trying to make sense of it. He’s never been able to talk candidly about this soulmate stuff with anyone who’s actually experienced it. His parents hadn’t, and of course, all his friends were in the same boat with him, yet to find the soulmates they’d never asked for.

“Who is she?” Fitz asks.

“Her name’s Melinda. She’s an undergraduate in another department here.”

“So... are you... I mean.” Fitz works his hands around each other in a vague spherical motion, though he has no idea why. “You’re together?”

“We are.” Phil nods.

“And you’re... happy?”

“Well, life has its ups and downs but, yeah. I’d like to think so.”

Wow. Fitz sits back again, letting that wash over him. The concept is almost impossible for him to comprehend.

“Also, I don’t want to get your hopes up,” Phil continues, “but, it sounds to me like there’s a real chance Jemma is experiencing the same thing you are. Just, for whatever reason, she’s equally shy to admit it.”

Fitz’s panic level shoots up. His eyes widen, and he covers his face in his hands and takes a few deep breaths. But it doesn’t help much.

Hearing Phil’s story, the possibility of success here seems to much closer to his grasp. He’s starting to believe Jemma might actually be his match after all.

It’s dangerous. It’ll only crush him worse if he’s wrong.

“You okay?” Phil asks, when Fitz is silent for too long.

“Yeah, just... how do I tell her?”

It’s becoming too real, the thought of confessing. He’s able to keep calm about it most of the time (at least apart from moments when she touches him someplace new), because actually telling her has been out of the question. But now Phil is here and saying these things and encouraging him and applying this pressure and... before he knows it he’s basically hyperventilating, trying to blink moisture out of his eyes.

“Fitz, it’s going to be okay.” Phil stands and puts a hand on his shoulder, rubbing his thumb there a few times. Fitz can’t feel it, not really, as it’s not a place Jemma has blessed him with her touch, but he nonetheless appreciates the sentiment.

Fitz nods, trying to believe that.

“What was your plan, before you came to me?” Phil asks.

“I didn’t really have one, I suppose,” he admits. “I thought I’d just... be her friend. Eventually it’d come out, somehow.”

Phil sits on the couch next to him. “That’s not a bad plan,” he says, and he sounds sincere. “I’d support you if you wanted to do that.” There’s a pause where it seems like Phil is trying to decide how best to phrase his imminent qualifier. “But I do think it might be better to get it out in the open. You’ll either be pleasantly surprised,” he changes his tone for the latter half of the sentence, “or you’ll get to move on. It won’t consume you anymore.”

“You’re right.” Fitz nods, but all the anxiety slams into him even harder. He buckles over at the waist, holding his head in his hands because it’s suddenly too heavy to support. “Oh, God.”

“You can do this, Fitz. I have every confidence in you.”

“Just... how?” he over-emphasizes the second word.

“Well, it shouldn’t be someplace as public as the lab. Maybe invite her to study, to lunch, casual, nothing serious. Not a date. That way you’ll have some measure of privacy, and an easy out you wouldn’t have otherwise.”

“She does talk about studying a lot,” he recalls out loud.

“There you go,” Phil encourages.

“Thank you, Phil,” Fitz says, turning to him. “Really.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says, patting him on the back.

“You can’t even feel this, can you?” Phil says suddenly, realizing he’s made the wrong sort of gesture.

“Not exactly, no,” Fitz admits with a chuckle.

“Where all has she gotten you so far?”

He runs Phil through the list. Inside of his right hand, some of his left, the spot on his arm, the couple patches on his neck.

“Oh, and a little spot on my nose, here,” he adds, touching the tip of his nose with his finger.

Phil smiles, shaking his head. “It’s a brave new world.”

“What about you?” Fitz asks after a moment.

Phil suddenly looks nervous for the first time since this conversation began.

“Well,” he tilts his head, failing to hide a guilty grimace.

“What, everywhere?” Fitz asks, eyes bulging wide.

“Well, don’t act so scandalized,” Phil defends himself. “We’re both adults. And we’ve been together five years now.”

Fitz takes a deep breath and exhales it slowly, resting his chin on his hand. He can hardly imagine such a thing; it’s overwhelming for him to get one new square inch of sensation on his arm.

He knows it’s still a big if that he is Jemma’s soulmate at all. But somehow, hearing that things have gone so well for Phil, that he started exactly where Fitz is now and has come so far, is reassuring.

“I’ve got to find out,” he says suddenly, with more conviction than he ever has.

Like I said,” Phil says, smiling again.

His smile is somehow reassuring, in itself. Fitz really should come to him for advice more often.

[princegabriel]

Dear FFFX writer

Woo, okay! Let’s get into it!

Just so you don’t have to keep clicking back and forth, here again are my general likes:

Matter-of-fact declarations of love/friendship.

People being productive while pining–either acknowledging their feelings but realizing they still have important things to do, or straight up burying the feelings in work. Women And Nonbinary People Getting Stuff Done Fake dating Black comedy Silly comedy and bad puns Conversely, people being very extra and having THE MOST feelings, in the style of 19th century romance Stories where STUFF happens due mostly to people just being people Places with secrets Game narratives, as in, the MC(s) are playing some kind of immersive, fantastical, high-stakes game. See: The Game of Sunken Places, Doctor Who: The Ghost Monument. IDK how that would apply here, but they are neat and if you come up with a concept that you think would work, I bet it would be cool!

aaand DNWs:

Rape/dubcon/torture porn Major character death Tooth injuries Misgendering Characters’ defining characteristic being “in love with this person” Focus on unrequested non canonical ships Pregnancy/kidfic Diet talk A/B/O dynamics Any bodily waste products being used for sex Unrequested AUs

I’m providing some (not very specific) prompts, but if you have another idea that doesn’t include any of my DNWs, go for it!

The Locked Tomb Trilogy/Gideon the Ninth (Contains spoilers for Harrow the Ninth)

I love Gideon and Harrow, both separately and together, and I love the evolution of their relationship. From “I completely fucking hate you” to “I cannot conceive of a universe without you in it.” Thank you for stabbing me right in the heart Tamsyn Muir I love it. 

Specific prompts: 

For just Gideon the Ninth: I’d love to see other potential Lyctor tests, if you’d like to invent those. 

Taking into account Harrow the Ninth: I’m hoping for Harrow and Gideon to figure out the full and correct Lyctor conversion, with or without Palamedes and Camilla, because I love the four of them working together, but Harrow’s sharp enough to get there eventually. I’d love to see how any of the “canon AUs” would have played out if Harrow had stayed in them.

The Old Guard (movie)

I’ve never read the comics, so I’d prefer fic to be based on movie canon, but if you know the comics and want to borrow some canon for things that didn’t get so fleshed out in the movie, that’s fine! 

Prompts/Ideas: 

Immortal family adventures with Andy, Quynh, Joe, and Nicky; 

Immortal family adventures with Andy, Nile, Joe, and Nicky; 

Andy helping Nile get used to immortality, as Nile adjusts to the idea of having a brand new family and a life she never imagined; 

Joe and Nicky enemies to lovers (please no “both sides were wrong” w/r/t the Crusades)

The Magnus Archives

Prompts: 

Melanie doesn’t take for granted that people are being rude to her just because it’s a boy’s club and conducts her own investigations

Gertrude Robinson in the early days as Head Archivist 

Gertrude Robinson later in her career as Head Archivist (how has her outlook changed over the years, what’s it like working with Gerard)

For ships, I prefer Gertrude/Agnes and Gertrude & Adelard Dekker, though I don’t hate Gertrude/Dekker 

What’s Martin’s domain? I know he got caught in the Lonely but I don’t thiiiink that’s necessarily his domain? [Hardly an original opinion, but I think it’s the Web? Possibly the Eye, but in a different location, not the Institute?] Anyway, whichever you want to make a case for is good!

Apocalypse adventures vs. trying to have a healthy, functional relationship

Wolf 359

Prompts/Ideas:

Jacobi and Kepler’s first missions together—How does Jacobi feel about this weird, suave, kinda murder-y guy who essentially appeared out of nowhere and changed his life for the better? How does Kepler feel (as deeply buried as any of his feelings may be) about Jacobi?

Maxwell joining the team, her developing friendship with Jacobi—what horrible things could these two morally gray, highly and specifically skilled people accomplish together? What’s Kepler and Maxwell’s specific dynamic like? 

The progression of Kepler and Jacobi’s relationship

The Penumbra Podcast

Prompts/Ideas:

Beach episode that actually turns into a case or heist—may or may not feature a literal beach

Juno and Peter undercover as a married couple! Again!

Juno and Rita post-SotP investigating the THEIA corporation and taking smaller jobs and Juno learning how to be a good friend to Rita

Juno and Rita trying to learn how to be criminals (not that they were totally lawful anyway?)

Whew! Happy writing!