#eight nights fic

[ivystoryweaver]

IvyStoryWeaver's 1st Fic-iversary

My Masterlist

EVENT CLOSED

🎉 I posted my first Tumblr fic/first Moon Knight fic With You on May 29, 2023!

📚 Since then, I've posted 60 stories involving over 120 different chapters/individual posts, a few Moodboards, and Oscar Isaac Characters Valentines

💞 I have the most fun moots and lovely followers and I gotta celebrate with you!

📥 SEND ME REQUESTS! Unlike for my 1000 Follower/Holiday Celebration, I am taking regular, real, full requests - anything you like!

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

❓What’s your favorite story? Tell me! (Masterlist)

📖 Send me requests about your fave stories! And questions about where any of my fic characters are now. I would love to tell you about:

How is Marc doing with his sobriety after With You? or how is Jake adjusting to being out of the shadows? (Or how were they before the story?)

Questions about Poe and Elia from The Only One

Or Jake and the mob boss’ daughter from 3 Times fic

How about ghost!reader and the boys in Spectre

How are Marc/Steven and their kiddos Elle & Max from Eight Nights doing?

Or did you like Lockley, Grant and Jakob better in What a Mother Can Be?

How's life for Steven after Steven Grant Oblivious Roommate Headcanons

Or Miguel after (or before!) Decadent

Let's not forget Perfect Fit Nathan and Nate (part 2 is almost done, I promise!)

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

DON'T FORGET:

🎮 - games - "Would You Rather?" "FMK" etc 🤍- get-to-know-you questions here or Top 3's here

OR just shout into my Askbox

Scroll to the bottom of this post for prompt ideas

All of you have made this the most fun year in a long time. Thank you!

My Masterlist

Askbox

Previous Celebrations

[johnslittlespoon]

– when the coyote come, i'll be your watchman.

[phoebe-delia]

For your eight nights of Drarry event, what about “I get drunk on jealousy.”

Drunk on Jealousy

And for the finale of Eight Drarry Nights 2023, I am honored to write this for @xx-thedarklord-xx. Sam, I hope you know by now just how much I love your work. Apologies that this is so late. It's been a rough week (shoutout to my discord friends for the sweet support! You guys are amazing). But I wanted to give this proper time, which I haven't had until now. So, without further ado, here we go! And, of course, Happy (belated, now) Hanukkah.

Featuring: a secret relationship, possessive!Harry, and a Draco who is determined to drive Harry crazy—in the best way—until he snaps.

At this point, I'm starting to think the pint in your hand is just for show. You've hardly touched it. I'd wager you're entirely sober.

You come to pub nights with our colleagues, every other Friday, yet you hardly drink anymore. Would you be surprised that I've noticed? When have I not noticed you, Potter?

I've seen you watching me. You're not being very subtle; if you want to keep this a secret, you're going to have to tear your eyes away from my arse. Not that I want you to, mind you. I always want your eyes on me.

Have you caught on to my game yet? You're an ex-Auror. Use your talents of deduction. I flit and flirt my way through the pub, talking to everyone but you, but it's always your bed I come back to, isn't it? Meanwhile, you stew and scowl and glare at me from the corner of the pub as if you don't know the foregone conclusion.

Silly Potter. There's an easy way to get me to end this; a quick, surefire solution to this self-inflicted torture. You'd just have to march over here with that big, tough Chosen One bravado, scoop me into your arms, and kiss me the way you usually do when no one's around. No one else would dare touch me again, and we'd finally be free from sneaking around. Win-win.

But you're trying to be a gentleman. You're trying to "give me my space" and let me bring our relationship out of the proverbial closet when I'm ready. It's admirable; very touchy-feely-sweet-Gryffindor of you.

But I've had enough. I'm ready for more. I'm sure you'd say that I could simply tell you. But where's the fun in that? It's much more entertaining for me to see you get all worked up, jaw clenching with every smirk I throw your way as I talk and laugh and flirt with other men.

Tonight, though, I think you've finally realized. Or, at least, you're going to lose it. I'm talking to—what did he say his name was? Greg? Thomas? I'm not sure, but it won't matter in a moment. You're gripping that pint like it's personally offended you; I'm almost afraid it's going to shatter in your hand.

From the corner of my eye, I see you all but slam it on the table, the drink sloshing a bit over the rim. While the rest of the pub is too rowdy to notice, your tablemates startle and look at you with alarm. But you're glaring at me. I just deepen my smirk and raise my eyebrow at you.

You rise from your seat, letting your chair fall over behind you, and stride purposefully over to me.

Good.

That's it.

Come and get me.

[corancoranthemagicalman]

“I’ll bet. Dormi benne, Bowser.” Experimenting with style and illustrating one of my FAVORITE scenes in  The Best Man by herpatoidAcephalist . If you haven’t read it yet, cannot recommend it enough.

[this-is-z-art-blog]

[ID: digital drawing of Sam Manson and Kitty on a snowy hill on a slightly cloudy night, standing in front of a giant silver menorah. Sam is wearing a purple puffer jacket, black and green plaid skirt, gray leggings, and dark boots, as well as a number of silver earrings and a silver star of david necklace. She has her hands in her pockets and is smiling up at Kitty, floating above her. Kitty, slightly transparent, is wearing a red jacket and boots, low cut dark top, dark red skirt, and fishnets, as well as a black star of david choker necklace, and is smiling down at Sam. The menorah is lit for the fifth night in green ectoplasmic flame.]

Eight Ecto Nights 2023, Night 5: Community

Lighting the park menorah together, highly inspired by the fic Grabbing Smoke by @lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks

[randomfoggytiger]

Find Five Lines Tag

Thank you for the tag, @television-overload~!

Rules: find any lines in your WIP that fit each parameter given by the person who tagged you. Then change one of the parameters and tag five or more people. Can be lines from multiple WIPs. If you can't find a line that fits, feel free to change the prompt.

My lines: a line about family, a passionate line, a line expressing dread, a line that is screamed, a funny line

Your lines: a line about family, a passionate line, a line expressing relief, a line that screamed, a funny line

Family line: "You Up for Joining Us?"

“I should call Melissa,” Bill rasped, rubbing a hand across his eyes, wondering if his father would already have done so.

Passionate line: Eight Nights of Mulder, Day 1: Gold

Alarmed, her pupils widened as her brain scrambled; and the only thought her mind could conjure through the static was gold, gold, gold on sluggish repeat.

Dread line: Son of Egypt

And if closed, found, 2000, died, resurrected was a possibility, then there was an equal chance that born, adopted, given a new identity could be true as well.  

Screamed line: The Hospital Where You Slept

“Paramedics, now!” Mulder yelled, vaulting forward and pumping, pumping, pumping to keep her soul from leaving once more. 

Funny line: Chariots of Fire

Above the thundering chaos, Krycek could have sworn he heard an angel jamming "Chariots of Fire" on his harp.

Tagging: @baronessblixen, @welsharcher, @agent-troi, @suitablyaggrieved, @amplifyme, @cecilysass, @slippinmickeys, @aloysiavirgata, @invidiosa, @writingwell, @pennyserenade, @virtie333, @two-microscopes, @storybycorey, @numinousmysteries, @xxsksxxx, @skelavender, @neednottoneed, @settle-down-frohike, @frogsmulder, @ghostbustermelanieking, @o6666666, @sigritandtheelves, @unremarkablehouse, @leiascully, @bakedbakermom, @freckleslikestars, and anyone else who wants to participate~

[transingthoseformers]

*insert evil, knowing laugh*

[baronessblixen]

Look For The Light

My prompts: Eight Nights of Mulder, day 8 (last day!) - lights X-Mas Files Challenge - Scully loves presents

Summary: It's William's first night at home and Mulder reflects how lucky he is. (fluffy fluff; wc: 851)

Tagging @today-in-fic @eightnightsofmulder

There is so much he wants to say. So much he thinks he should explain. There’s so much, and yet, he can’t stop staring at this tiny human being in his arms, a miracle from head to his ten toes. William is sleeping, his breathing going fast as if trying to catch up with the world now that he’s seeing it from the outside.

“How do you like it out here, hm?” Mulder asks, gently swaying. Time has lost all meaning to him. It might be late at night, or early morning. It doesn’t matter. In the bedroom, Scully is asleep, needing every second of shuteye she can get. He’s here for all these moments. That’s something that a few months ago seemed impossible.

“There’s nothing that’s impossible when it comes to us Mulders, right? Well, you’re half a Mulder and half a Scully. Makes you twice as awesome.” Mulder has been amazed by Scully ever since he’s known her, but now, she’s a certified hero in his eyes.

“Your mom is the most amazing person in the world. You probably know that already.” The child’s eyes remain closed, and his body slack. “Already not listening. Yeah, you’re my son.” He chuckles softly, just watching. This tiny nose that Mulder hopes will take on Scully’s shape as it grows. The tuft of reddish hair on his small head that’s softer than anything Mulder has ever touched. He has never felt so whole, or so much at home with himself, and in the world. He didn’t think he’d get here. Decades of running after the truth, of following every light in the sky, and this time, the light led him here. To William, and to Scully.

He tried explaining it to Scully earlier, with their son between them. The light. How all he did was follow it. But she was just smiling, probably not listening at all, and then, a moment later, she was asleep, looking so much like William. Mulder picked him up, hoping he’d, too, sleep a while. So far, he’s in luck. That same luck that has been following him ever since he set out to find Scully.

The light that led him. He looks at William and he feels it. It’s there. It’s a warmth, a bond. Love. If Scully were awake, if he said this to her, he knows she would roll her eyes at him. He’ll stick to his story. There was a light and he followed it. That, to him, is William. He has brought light into his and Scully’s life, leading them onward from now on. His son chooses that moment to open his eyes. They’re still unfocused, lost in this big, big world, but Mulder can’t help but smile.

“Knew I was thinking about you, hm? You’re clever like that. We should wake your mom.” He will never tire of this. Scully is a mom and he’s a dad. The product of their love is in his arms, just waking up, just getting to know the world around him.

“You know what? We should think of a gift for your mom. I’m gonna tell you a secret, Will.” The baby shuffles in his arms, his eyes closing again. “Your mom loves presents. Oh, she pretends she doesn’t, but she loves them.”

“Are you talking about me?” There she is, his Scully. She’s leaning against the door frame, looking utterly exhausted and happier than he’s ever seen her.

“Just explaining some things to our son. I can’t stop looking at him.”

“He really is cute,” Scully agrees, joining Mulder and leaning against him now.

“Hey, why are you up? You should be sitting down. Come on.” Together they make their way back to the bedroom. “How much did you hear?”

“Just you saying I love presents. And Mulder, who doesn’t love presents?”

“Knew it,” he whispers to a fussy William before he kisses his downy head and hands him to Scully, who expertly nurses William. She leans against the headboard, her head tilted toward Mulder.

“Hey you,” he says, grinning. “I meant what I said when you were eavesdropping.”

“Wasn’t eavesdropping,” she says, smiling.

“You just tell yourself that.” He kisses her hair, her temple.

“You already gave me a gift, Mulder.”

“Courage, yeah. You said that.”

“That and Samantha’s doll. You came back to me. Because of you, there’s William. I already have everything I could possibly want.” Tears roll down her face and he realizes he’s crying too. “All I want is more moments like these.”

“You can’t get rid of me. You'll have to share these moments with me. Unless… do you think we can find space for my fish tank here?”

“I think we can arrange that.”

“Then that’s settled.” He leans his head against hers, watching as their son nurses happily, half falling asleep. Like his mother. They will have a million more moments like these - he'll make sure of it. Every single one will feel special. Next year, and every year after this, Mulder will tell William about the night he was born, and the light he followed.

[theficpusher]

Human Zoo by jaerie | E | 1209 Harry is a hybrid that was captured for display in an isolated country far from home. Someone from his past could be a savior, but he has other plans.

Twenty-Eight by beardyboyzx | M | 1499 "Can't believe you finally caught him," Niall says, clapping him on the back. He's been there with him on his very first mission, when Twenty-Eight was just the first criminal Harry encountered in his spy career to them. or: Agent Harry Styles has finally caught his nemesis, but there's a knot in the plot he's not ready to detangle.

routine surveillance by disgruntledkittenface | E | 2680 Harry’s training period for the Bureau consists of routine surveillance. One night, it becomes a little less routine.

The Night Market by Anonymous | E | 3000 It’s to earn a bit of extra spending money and have a bit of fun while doing it, that’s all. Harry examines his reflection in the mirror as Niall does up the back of his outfit. The clothes he wore on the train here are already safely tucked away in a locker, along with the key to the thick, heavy collar around his neck. The little green light shines from the centre of it, indicating that he’s available.

excuses for adultery by Anonymous | E | 3588 Louis asks for a break from sex, Harry finds a way to get his needs met. Louis finds his way to get revenge.

Knot's Farms by Anonymous | E | 4774 Hybrid travel visas are much stricter than laws for human travel. About twenty more hoops to jump through, and five times the cost. Louis’ proud, so proud of Harry going off on his first big tour, but he’s realistic, too. They would see barely a dime of that money if they had to spend on a hybrid EU visa. So, he’s spending ten days at Knot’s Farms, one of the higher rated hybrid kennel agencies.

the trolley problem by ThereAreOnlySecrets | E | 7350 In front of him are three men of different ages, but with similar distressed looks on their faces. Beaten and bloody, each one tied to a chair. Panicked, Louis backs away from the sight - and straight into a solid, muscled chest. “What - what is this?” “Oh, this is a little problem I thought you could help me with,” Harry murmurs into his ear lightly. “You see, these three men betrayed me, baby. And I want your help in deciding which one to make an example out of. Now, it’s a very simple game. I will put on a ten-minute timer and by the end of the countdown, you will tell me which one of these very distraught and scared men deserves to die. If you don’t choose anyone…Well, then I will kill all three of them.” This is not how Louis thought his day would go. Please let this be a sick, twisted joke...

The Revelation by creamcoffeelou | E | 8373 Harry feels his edges start to unravel. He can’t find where he ends and where Louis begins.

Lick the Knife by larry_hiatus | E | 13303 Three things about Harry: 1. He wants all of his exes dead. 2. He has a blood kink. 3. He’s Louis’ roommate. Three things about Louis: 1. He’s a serial killer. 2. He hates Harry. 3. He also kind of loves him.

[jeannemarythefourth]

i’m reading this fic and it’s like. in the middle of a chapter, in the middle of some emotionally resonate larger plotline, the main couple takes an hour and 48 minutes to watch eternal sunshine of the spotless mind for seemingly no goddamn reason. like they abandon the secondary characters in the kitchen to watch AN HOUR AND FORTY EIGHT MINUTE MOVIE and then the plot just resumes like nothing happened. what???????

[seventhdoctor]

In another possible world, a young Yuki Judai remembers the entirety of his past the moment he holds the Yubel card in his hands. Guardian and guarded are reunited, and all is right with the world. “To remember back then would have been a great burden for you. Our past lives did not end happily.”

Judai and Yubel daydream about other lives they could have lived.

[ivystoryweaver]

Holiday Fics Masterlist (the whole year thru)

Main Masterlist

New Year

See "Autumn" for Rosh Hashanah/New Year Jake Lockley fic

Valentines

(Art, not fics)

Oscar Isaac Characters Valentines Masterlist

Mother's Day

"What a Mother Can Be" Moon Dads (Steven and Marc) || 1.7k words

Father’s Day

“He’s Okay”

Marc Spector || 1.3k words

Autumn

"Happy New Year, Jake" Jake Lockley || 820 words

Halloween

"Spectre: A Moon Knight Halloween Love Story" Moon Boys || ongoing || 18+

Winter

"Next December" Jake Lockley || 805 words || 18+

"Surf's Up" Jake Lockley || 100 words

Holiday Season

"Jingle Bells" Santiago Garcia || 800 words

Holidays with the Moon Boys moodboard

Hanukkah

"Eight Nights (in December)" Marc, Steven (Jake is mentioned) || 7.4k words

Christmas

"(Everybody's Waitin' for) The Man With the Bag" Miguel O'Hara || 1050 words

“Fairytale of New York” Llewyn Davis || 2.2k words || 18+

Birthday

Moon Boys Celebrate Your Birthday 635 words

“March the 9th” Marc Spector || 1.4k words

[jervis-tetch-my-beloved]

EIGHT COMMENTS???

[phoebe-delia]

Ohhhhhh I'm so excited for this!!! Can I prompt 'Begin Again'? It's one of my fave T. Swift songs and makes my heart go all soft and I would love to see what you do with it!

I Watched It Begin Again

@nv-md Ali I cannot begin to tell you how excited I was to get a prompt from you this year. You have been one of the biggest cheerleaders of this series for the last two years, and it's partly because of you that I'm doing it again. So thank you! So much!!

And, oh man, what a prompt!! I ADORE this song, and I'm honored to get to write this for you. I can't think of a more fitting person to receive the first gift, nor a more fitting prompt, as this series ~begins again.~

This is "Begin Again" by Taylor Swift.

"Potter, this is your last chance," Draco warns when he arrives at the cafe and sits in the empty chair at Potter's table. "If you confess now that asking me out was a joke or a bet, you may leave without being hexed."

The smile Potter'd had at seeing Draco's arrival dims. "Draco, this isn't a trick. I'm not trying to embarrass you," Potter says softly as if trying to calm a cornered animal. "This is real. I like you. And I think you like me, too. Let's just be two people on a date. Can we do that? You can reserve the right to hex me if you truly think this is some ill-intentioned plot." Harry's amused smirk should not be that attractive, but it makes Draco's stomach flip all the same.

Draco looks at Harry for a long moment and sees the sincerity he'd been hoping for. He relents and leans back in his chair, taking his wand from its holster and twirling it easily, his eyes narrowed. Potter's smirk widens, the wanker.

The chatter and sounds of the cafe soon fade to white noise. Draco's world narrows to Harry; the way his hands grasp the cup of coffee, the way he snorts if he laughs hard enough, the way he constantly fiddles with his hair and the ends of his clothes. Harry makes Draco feel giddier than he's been in years, truth be told.

"You drive me mad," is the truth Draco admits instead, later, when Potter kisses him for the first time underneath a street lamp.

"Good thing I'm mad for you," Harry murmurs; the back of Draco's head knocks against the metal pole, but the kiss Harry gives him makes him lightheaded.

They take the long walk back to Draco's flat, stopping to snog up against every lamp post they can find. Harry walks him to the door with what seems like great reluctance. "Here's my Floo," Harry whispers, tucking a small scrap of parchment into Draco's coat pocket. "I'll see you soon, Draco." He steps back and Apparates away with a pop.

Draco reaches for the parchment as soon as Harry's gone, unfolding it with shaking hands.

There's a Floo number and a short message. Draco, if you're reading this, it means our date's ended. But I know we're just beginning.

Draco pockets the parchment, brings his fingertips to his still-tingling lips, and smiles.

[regenderate-fic]

Back Home Anew

Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Donna Noble, Wilfred Mott Rating: General Series: Eight Nights of DoctorRose (link goes to ao3 page) Word Count: 2,708 Other Tags: Hanukkah, Holidays, Post-Episode AU: Journey's End, Rose Stays

Read on AO3

Summary: Reunited with Rose, the Doctor promises to come to dinner with Donna-- and then accidentally launches the TARDIS six months into the future.

NOTES: i said this was going to be a short little thing just so we had SOMETHING for night four and then it turned into the longest fic in the series. god. also writing tenrose makes me miss my girlfriend oh my GOD i need help. or possibly gay kissing 🤔😳

anyway the au here is that tentoo doesn't exist and donna is fine and rose is still in this universe. you all can substitute the events of your favorite journey's end au fic as explanation for how that happened. also i stole delia's jewish donna headcanons

“Will you stay for dinner?” Donna asked, looking from the Doctor to Rose. “Grandad’ll be thrilled.”

The Doctor looked at Rose, standing next to him, her hand so very warm in his. “Rose?”

“Er— yeah, of course.” Rose nodded. “I’d love to.”

“Right.” The Doctor took a breath. “We just ought to— calibrate the TARDIS— she’s had quite the shock, you know. We’ll just pop her a minute into the future, and then we’ll be right out.”

“I’m holding you to that, spaceman,” Donna said. “One minute.”

“One minute,” the Doctor repeated. He squeezed Rose’s hand and led her back to the TARDIS, pushing the door open so they could step through together. The second they were back inside, everything felt quiet: the last day or so had gone so quickly, everything happening at once, a crowd in the TARDIS, a world-ending threat, and now it was just the Doctor, back in the TARDIS with Rose. 

He turned to Rose. For a moment, they just stared at each other: he took her in, the face he’d thought he’d never see again, her searching eyes, her blonde hair. And then he couldn’t hold back any longer. He reached for her, pulled her close to him, wrapped her up in the tightest hug he could manage, and her arms around his waist felt unimaginably right. He didn’t know how he’d gone without Rose for nine hundred years— didn’t know, either, how he’d survived the last two-ish in her absence. Even though he’d only had her back for a few hours, it was impossible to imagine ever being without her again. This is dangerous, some part of his mind reminded him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“We don’t actually have to go to Donna’s dinner,” he murmured. “If you’re not up for it.”

“No,” Rose said into his chest, “we said we’d go. Can’t back out now.” 

“Right,” the Doctor said. “Then I suppose I’d better get on with the calibration.” If he was being honest, the TARDIS calibration could have waited— the TARDIS had been damaged, but not so badly that it needed immediate attention. But he hadn’t gotten the chance to really check in with Rose, and he’d needed the excuse to spend even a few seconds alone in the TARDIS with her, just to make sure she was really there, and okay, and with him. 

Rose released her hold on the Doctor’s waist, and the Doctor wasted no time in taking her hand before stepping over to the console. She came with him, her head resting against his arm, and he looked down at her with a little smile. 

“You all right?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Rose said. She looked up at him, and her smile hit him right between the hearts. He felt his own smile turning into a goofy grin, and she grinned back, and for a second he got lost in his own happiness, looking at her. 

She squeezed his hand. 

“Calibration?” she prompted.

“Calibration,” he repeated. He forced himself to let go of her so he could start the process, running halfway around the console and back, hitting buttons and throwing switches and running back to Rose as the TARDIS started up its sound. He found her watching him, still smiling, and he stared back. “What?”

“Missed this, is all.” She leaned her head against his arm again, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in. 

“You ready?” he asked.

“‘Course.” 

Together, they walked to the TARDIS doors and stepped out. Immediately, the Doctor got a sinking feeling in his chest: it was cold, colder than it had been a few minutes ago, and when he looked around he could see twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the lamposts.

Before he could say anything, though, Donna came running out of her house, red hair half-hidden by a knit hat, already yelling, “One minute? Is that what you call one minute? You go in there and say you’re going to pop a minute in the future, and now it’s the fourth night of Hanukkah!”

The Doctor lifted his free hand to scratch the hair at the back of his neck. “Hanukkah? You never said you were Jewish.”

Donna stared. “That’s the takeaway here?”

“Well—” The Doctor looked at Rose, but Rose was laughing, grabbing at his jacket to keep herself from doubling over. 

“You still can’t drive,” she wheezed.

“Oh, you mean he was like this with you, too?” Donna looked at the Doctor. “And she came back for you?”

“First time we met,” Rose said, “he told me he’d brought me back twelve hours later. Turned out it was a year.” She burst into laughter again. “And I stayed with him anyway!”

“D’you know,” Donna said, “he used to talk about you, like, all the time, and I’d sit there wondering, who in the universe would stay with him?” She looked Rose up and down. “But you seem all right. Even if you do have terrible taste in men.”

“I can’t help it,” Rose sighed. “He had me at blowing up my job.” 

Donna laughed. “Well, can’t help that it’s been six months, but d’you still want to come for dinner? Only, Grandad and I were just about to light the menorah.”

“We’d love to,” the Doctor said. He glanced at Rose. “Right? We’d love to?”

“We’d love to,” Rose repeated with a nod.

The Doctor and Rose followed Donna into the house. Immediately, Wilf’s voice met his ears, calling, “Donna, was it him?”

“Yeah,” Donna called back. “Him and Rose. You remember Rose?”

Wilf came into the hallway. “Rose! You found him!”

“Yeah.” Rose smiled. “Good to see you again.”

“You too, love. Are you staying for the candle lighting?”

“They are,” Donna said. 

“Oh, good!” Wilf smiled. “I’ve been learning to make latkes, you know. And we’ve got those pastries— Donna, what were they called again?”

“Sufganiyot,” Donna filled in. 

“Right,” Wilf said. “Those. I’ve eaten three already today.”

“He’s eating us out of house and home,” Donna said. “Come on, you two. Menorah’s this way.” She ushered the Doctor and Rose into the living room. “Grandad, do you have the matches?”

“Give me a second,” Wilf replied from the hallway. 

“We’re still getting used to this,” Donna explained. “Haven’t really celebrated Hanukkah since I was a kid. My dad’s thing, you know?”

“Ah,” the Doctor said. “Your mother’s not—”

Donna shook her head. “She’ll light candles with us if she’s not out,” she said. “‘Course, she’s started going out more and more on Friday nights, but—” She shrugged. “Grandad’s a good sport, though, isn’t he?” 

Just then, Wilf came back into the room, holding a box of matches. “Put them in the kitchen yesterday. Don’t know why, considering.”

“Well, we’ve got them now.” Donna took the box in one hand. “Everyone ready?”

“Just to check,” the Doctor said. “This is just candle-lighting, yes? Bit of prayer?”

“What does it matter?” Donna asked.

The Doctor shrugged. “Got to know what I’m supposed to be ready for, don’t I?”

Rose nudged him. “Being rude.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I like her,” Donna said. She nodded to the window, where a simple gold menorah sat on the sill. “C’mon.” 

The Doctor, Rose, and Wilf followed her to the window. They took their places around the menorah. 

“Don’t suppose you know the blessings already,” Donna said to the Doctor.

“Er— they might be in here somewhere. But people tend to use different tunes, don’t they?” It had been a while since the Doctor had attended any religious event, really, if you didn’t count all the times he’d almost died on Christmas. 

“Well, I didn’t remember the tunes my dad used,” Donna said, “so I’ve stolen them from the synagogue.” She shrugged. “Oh, well. Either you’ll work it out or you won’t. Not my problem either way.”

The Doctor snorted. “That’s one way to think about it.”

Rose laughed.

Wilf, it turned out, was the one to carry the prayers: Donna sang, and Rose and the Doctor knew a few words each, but Wilf’s deep and enthusiastic voice seemed to fill the room. After a blessing, Donna lit the shamash and used it to light the four candles to mark the fourth night, and the Doctor drew Rose closer to him as Donna and Wilf started singing again, all four of them swaying in front of the menorah.

“All right!” Wilf exclaimed, once they were done. “Let’s eat!”

It had been a long time since the Doctor had sat around a table with a family, celebrating a holiday. If pressed, he would probably say the last time was immediately after his regeneration, eating Christmas dinner with Rose and Jackie and Mickey, pulling a red crown out of a Christmas cracker and putting it on his head— this reminded him of that, except he and Rose had gotten older, and he had newer friends, too, to celebrate with. The biggest family on Earth, Sarah Jane had said. Maybe it was true. 

Once they’d eaten, they moved back into the living room, where the candles still flickered on the windowsill. Wilf and Donna each took an armchair, and the Doctor and Rose took up much less of the sofa than they technically could have, Rose leaning against the Doctor’s shoulder. 

“You all right?” the Doctor asked her, keeping his voice low. “You’ve been quiet.”

“Just tired,” Rose said. 

“We can go,” the Doctor said. “If you like.”

“No.” Rose nuzzled closer into his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her. “This is nice.”

“Suppose we could’ve made it a ‘welcome back to the universe’ party,” Donna said. “If we’d had any warning at all, that is.”

“I said sorry!” the Doctor exclaimed.

Donna shook her head. “He never changes.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

“Sorry,” Rose said. “Next time I’m making him let me pilot.”

“You don’t even know how,” the Doctor scoffed.

“Oh, yeah?” Rose lifted her head to look at him. “In the last two years, I helped Torchwood figure out how to jump across universes. You give me long enough, I’ll figure out how to take your TARDIS wherever I want to go.” She let her head fall back to his shoulder with a contented hum. “Besides, she likes me.”

“That she does.” The Doctor let his fingers trace up and down the leather at Rose’s shoulder. He must’ve been giving her some kind of sappy look, but he only realized when Donna started making exaggerated gagging sounds from her chair. 

He shot her a look.

“You try spending two years thinking someone you care about is stuck forever in another universe,” he said. “See how you behave.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Whatever, spaceman.”

“How do you two even know each other?” Rose asked, and the Doctor realized suddenly just how much he had to catch Rose up on. It filled him with excitement, somehow, the idea that he could talk to her now— the idea that he could tell Rose about every time he’d done or seen something and thought, I need to tell Rose about this. 

“Just after we said goodbye,” the Doctor said. “Remember that? Burning up a sun?”

Rose pressed even closer to him. “I try not to think about it.”

“So do I,” the Doctor agreed. “But that was when Donna showed up in my TARDIS. In her wedding dress. Turned out her fiance was filling her with Huon particles to help a giant spider make her into a key.”

Rose hummed. “You’ll explain what all that means when I’m more awake, yeah?”

“‘Course.” The Doctor smiled. “Point is, we got each other out of trouble, and then I asked her to travel with me, and she said no, and I bounced around with Martha for a bit—”

“He was borderline mean to Martha, from what she told me,” Donna interjected. “All hung up on you—”

The Doctor winced. “I’ve had finer moments, it’s true.” 

“I liked Martha,” Rose said. “Seemed nice.”

“She’s very nice,” Donna said, directly to the Doctor. 

“The point is,” the Doctor said, “Donna and I found each other again, traveled together for a bit, and here we are now. Happy Hanukkah.”

“And I’m sure I’ll get more of that story later, too,” Rose added. 

“I’m an open book,” the Doctor promised.

They talked a while longer— Donna updated the Doctor on what she’d done in the last six months, which seemed to involve a decent amount of work with UNIT and a worrying amount of contact with Martha, Sarah Jane, and Captain Jack, and she and the Doctor both told Rose about a few of their adventures. It was halfway through talking about Pompeii that the Doctor looked down and realized Rose had fallen asleep against his shoulder, her breath coming out in soft puffs against his jacket.

“Think maybe we’d better go,” he said softly.

“All right, then,” Donna said. “Take some of the sufganiyot with you, will you? There’s no way we’ll eat them all on our own.”

“No way you will, maybe,” Wilf protested.

“Take them anyway,” Donna said. 

“You’re not coming with us?” the Doctor asked.

“Nah.” Donna winked. “Have your honeymoon. Come back for me when you’re ready.”

The Doctor let out a laugh. “Thanks.” He nudged Rose. “Rose?”

Rose’s head lifted. “Mm?” She fell back against him immediately, and he prodded her harder.

“Rose.” He moved his arm from her shoulders to her waist, trying to keep her upright. “C’mon. Let’s get you to bed.”

Rose jumped, then looked around wildly. “Wh— Doctor?”

“Shh,” he murmured. “I’m here. Let’s get back to the TARDIS, all right?”

“Okay,” Rose whispered, her body relaxing. She let the Doctor pull her to her feet, still leaning against him as they moved into the hall. It was like she fit into him, her body taking up his negative space. He’d forgotten what it could feel like, having her here. He took the box of pastries Donna handed to him and hugged her goodbye, and then he and Rose walked slowly back to the TARDIS, Rose stumbling over her own feet.

“When’s the last time you slept?” the Doctor asked.

“Dunno,” Rose replied. “Three minutes ago?”

The Doctor laughed. “Before that.” 

“Oh.” Rose paused. “Not sure.”

“Well, you’ll be glad to know your room is still waiting for you.” The Doctor pushed the TARDIS doors open. “TARDIS didn’t touch it.”

Rose waved a hand at the console. “Thanks.” There was a gurgle from overhead, and the Doctor smiled. 

“C’mon.” 

They found Rose’s room quickly. The Doctor hesitated at the door, still not sure whether Rose would want him to come in— he’d slept in here with her a few times, and a few more times stayed awake while she slept, but those had all been special circumstances: particularly hard days, instances of illness or injury, moments of emotional need. And it had been a few years: maybe something had changed, between them. Maybe things were different now, or they’d need time to get back where they once were, or—

“Don’t be stupid, Doctor,” Rose said, tugging at his arm. “I want you to stay.” 

“All right, then.” The Doctor stepped into the room, looking around. It looked just the same as it always had, with the messy bed and clothes strewn about, the pictures tacked up on the wall, the vanity at one end and wardrobe at the other. Rose stepped away from him just long enough to peel off her jacket and kick off her shoes, and he did the same, sitting gingerly at the end of the bed until Rose came back to him, sitting at the head of the bed and tugging at his arm until he joined her. She wasted no time in curling up against his chest, her arms around him, and he carefully wrapped his own arms around her waist.

“Stay with me,” she repeated, her words already slurring with sleep.

On instinct, he bent his head down to press a kiss to her hair, marveling at her softness, her presence. “Forever,” he promised, and he meant it with every cell in his body. He never wanted to let her go.

[doonarose]

A consequence of all the driving and problem solving of yesterday (and my general proclivity for going well out of my way to make things marginally simpler for others (yes there’s an acts of service thingy there)) is that I am now on a train back into the city to pick up the car we left there and also drive the newlyweds to the airport to depart on their honeymoon.

Which is actually totally fine. An hour and a half on public transport by myself sounds like bliss.