#mark darcy fic

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 [𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐘]

PAIRINGS —  Mark Darcy x fem!Reader

SUMMARY —  Mark and Reader meet on a dock in Greece and the rest is history

WARNINGS — difficulty conceiving, pregnancy, allusions to sex

NOTE — Okay the beginning and end of this are definietly Mamma Mia-esque but TRUST ME it fits the vibessss- anyways I hope you guys like it :3 Also a big thanks to @/mystic-writings for beta-ing!

Mark wondered what had brought him here that day. There he was sitting on a dock in Greece, reevaluating all of the decisions he had made in recent days. He found it very hard to stay hopeful when that very much could have been the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with on that boat, sailing towards an island he didn’t know the name of with a ferry that wouldn’t allow him to chase after her until two days later. 

He was about to get up and turn around, find the nearest airport that would get him out of the sunny Mediterranean country, when he felt someone tap on his shoulder. 

He squinted against the sun, trying to get a better look at who it was, but it wasn’t clear until you stepped in front of him. 

“You miss the ferry?” you asked him and he nodded his head. “Shame,” you sighed and took a seat next to him. You introduced yourself and offered a hand for him to shake. He took it and introduced himself in return. 

“I don’t suppose your travels have also been…” he chose his words carefully, “subpar?” 

“Actually, they have,” you leaned back. “This was supposed to be some sort of girls trip.” 

“And?” 

“Well, you don’t see any girls around me do you,” you motioned to the empty dock. 

“No I don’t suppose I do.” 

You sat in silence for a moment, the sun beating down on both of your backs before you chose to speak again. 

“Have you done much sight-seeing yet?” 

“None. I just got here, and I think I’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow,” he admitted. 

“Leave Greece without seeing even one sight? You’re an interesting man, Mark.” 

“I’m glad you think so,” he sighed and pushed himself up off of the bench. 

“You know,” you started, “If you change your mind and want to see some of the sights before heading back to wherever you’re from, come find me. My hotel’s that one over there,” you pointed to one of the buildings overlooking the water. 

Mark nodded his head and wished you a good day before grabbing his bag and heading towards the main street, he’d call for a taxi and maybe his choice would be more clear to him the next morning. It was hard to think in the midday heat, because right now, for some peculiar reason, your offer seemed awfully enticing.

—

The next morning you awoke to a knock on your door. You checked the time, it was half past seven which was far too early for housekeeping. 

With a confused look on your face, and a just-in-case large vase in hand and ready for whatever was on the other side, you approached the door. In a quick motion you unlocked the door and swung it open, the vase held as threateningly as you could until you realized that you recognized those eyes and that tall frame. 

“Mark?” 

“You said if I wanted to get in some sightseeing before I go I should come to your hotel. You didn’t tell me what room though. I made a few awkward mistakes before landing on your door.” 

“What compelled you to do this at half past seven on a weekend?” you chuckled. 

“I could ask the same about your vase. Not normally something you greet someone with at the door,” he commented. 

“Just playing it safe,” you said, now lowering the vase and returning it to its place on the table. “Why don’t you give me two minutes to get dressed then I’ll properly invite you inside.” 

Mark nodded his head and you quickly shut the door, rummaging through your suitcases until you found what you wanted to wear, changing into it and reopening the door and allowing Mark to come inside. 

“So, what changed your mind?” you asked. “You seemed awfully set on leaving.” 

“I thought maybe it was time I took a break. I can’t remember the last time I took a vacation,” he admitted. “And it crossed my mind that perhaps you were right.” 

“About what?” 

“It would be a shame to leave Greece without seeing at least one sight.” 

You grabbed your bag and shoved a few things in it, looking back up at Mark. 

“Then let’s find a sight, shall we?” you offered your arm to him and he took it as you exited the room together. 

After you sorted out where you wanted to go you found yourselves on a hot overcrowded bus, trying to understand what the stops were and continuously looking at the map and your surroundings to determine where to get off. 

“So Mark, where do you hail from? I’m guessing England, but whereabouts?” you asked, over the loud engine. 

“London, currently,” he said. “And yourself?” 

“Currently? Also London,” you said. 

“But-,” 

“I don’t sound British?” you looked over at him and he chuckled. 

“Exactly,” he nodded. 

“I’m there for work. I’m an art curator,” you explained. “Brits bring pretty good business.” 

“That I can believe, and I think this is our stop,” he pointed. 

“Oh goodness, HEY! HEY! Stop the bus!” you called and stood up, waving down the driver with your hat. He slammed on the brakes and you jerked forward, almost falling into the seats in front of you if it weren’t for Mark quickly grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back down into your seat. “Man, let’s get the hell out of here.” 

Mark couldn’t help but give you a little smile as he helped you up from your seat and you exited the crowded bus as quickly as you could. 

“Good grief,” you sighed. “I would have gone flying if it weren’t for you. Thanks, Mark.” 

“Don’t mention it, all part of the Greek charm I suppose,” he shrugged as you began to walk down the quiet countryside street, looking for the entrance to the beach. 

“What about yourself, what do you do for work?” you asked. 

“I’m a lawyer,” he said. “Human rights type stuff mostly.” 

“Oh so a true London hotshot then,” you chuckled. “Come on, I think it’s right down here,” you motioned to a small trail opening. 

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say hotshot,” he said. 

“Oh don’t worry, I’m just teasing,” you said as you slipped on some loose gravel only to have Mark catch you again. 

“You’re quite clumsy.” 

“It’s a part of my charm,” you grinned. 

From there you both silently decided maybe it would be best if you held on to Mark so as to not fall again, and you walked a short distance in comfortable silence until you came to the opening of the beach. 

“Wow. Mark, this is really a sight,” you grabbed his arm and dragged him further so he could see the full view. 

The cove was secluded and the pristine water gently lapped against the shore along the white sand. 

“What do you think?” you asked. 

“I’m glad I stayed,” he said with a smile. 

Still hand in hand, you found a comfortable spot in the sand and laid out a blanket you had packed to sit on for the time being. 

“Do you have anyone waiting back home for you, Mark?” 

“Not aside from my parents,” he shook his head. “And yourself?” 

“Unattached currently,” you said while grabbing a water bottle from your bag. “My girlfriends would say this seems to have the making of a summer romance.” 

Mark found himself curious to see if you thought so too. Certainly he thought that seeing Bridget go off into the sunset with someone else would be the end of his romantic life, but perhaps he was mistaken. 

“Well, we’ll have to see if they’re right,” Mark said simply and you chuckled. 

Spending time with Mark was easy. It was as if your friends hadn’t all bailed on you and this was your plan all along. The days quickly melted into one, then two, then three and it was an easy routine for Mark to join you at your hotel in the morning. 

You were both too caught up in a whirlwind of tourism filled with adventures and flirting that you barely even noticed your departure date approaching. 

“Has it already been ten days?” you sighed, leaning into Mark’s side as you sat along the beach just outside of your hotel. 

“Went by a lot faster than I expected,” he admitted. “Feels like just yesterday I was so forwardly introduced to you.” 

“Shut up, Mark. You’ve had a good time,” you laughed. “Now let’s do one more fun thing before we go back to the doom and gloom of London.” 

“What do you have in mind?” he asked as you stood up and walked with him towards the water. 

“Hmm, have you ever tried the opposite of skinny dipping?” 

“Which is?” he frowned. 

“This!” you exclaimed while pushing him into the water, fully clothed, but not before he grabbed onto your waist, pulling you down with him. 

You squealed in surprise, falling on top of him in the shallow water. 

“Did you really think you could get away with that?” Mark asked and you shook your head with a laugh. 

“It was either this or you’d get up and chase me and throw me into the water.” 

“We could do that too if you wanted,” he moved one of  the wet strings of your top off of your cheek which it was currently stuck to. 

“No, I think I kind of like it here,” you said with a whisper. 

“Good, because then I can do this,” his thumb moved from your cheek to your chin, pinching it between that and his index finger and bringing your face closer to his before finally pressing his lips to yours. 

You brought yourself as close as you could to him, your hands holding on to both sides of his face. You could feel the water’s crests and falls and tasted its salt on Mark’s lips. 

When he gently moved away, giving you both a moment to breathe, he said, “I had to make sure I gave you a proper kiss goodbye.” 

“Could I perhaps entice you to make that a regular occasion?” you asked. 

Mark kissed you again, this time shorter before giving you a thinking face and then nodding his head. 

You chuckled and grabbed his hand, standing up yourself first before pulling him up with you. He trailed behind you as you walked towards your things, pressing a kiss to your temple from behind, then your neck until neither of you could help it and turned around to kiss properly again. 

“Why don’t you stay in my room tonight,” you murmured. “And maybe if we’re lucky the vacation will continue when we’re back in London. Any objections?” 

“No, sustained,” he kissed you again and you giggled at his joke. 

“Save something for the room, Mark,” you teased as you pulled away, “If we stay out here much longer we’ll be putting on a show for the tourists.” 

“And?” he raised a mischievous brow. 

“Mark!” you exclaimed with a surprised laugh, quickly grabbing your bag while he grabbed the blanket, shaking out the sand before grabbing your hand and heading back to the hotel, prepared for whatever this summer romance would bring. 

—

A few months later…

“Mark! I’m here, are you home yet?” you called into the townhome as you stepped across the threshold, throwing your keys on the table and slipping off your coat. 

There wasn’t an answer so you assumed he hadn’t arrived yet, but when you climbed up the stairs you saw him lying down on the couch with a pillow over his face. 

You chuckled a little and quietly bent down and removed the pillow only to be met by a soft, 

“Hey.” 

“Last I remember, you asked me to come over after work,” you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his nose. “How was your day?” 

“Exhausting, can’t you tell?” 

“Yes, quite clearly,” you nodded as you sat on the edge of the couch. “So, did you miss me?” 

“Dreadfully,” he nodded and beckoned you to come lay down with him. “How was work?”

“It was alright,” you sighed. “I think I’m getting tired of working for snooty rich folk. Maybe I need a change of scenery.”

Mark kissed your temple and you hummed, 

“Or maybe I should stay like this all day.”

“I wouldn’t complain,” he teased. 

“But alas, there’s work to be done. Come on, we have to make dinner,” you pushed yourself up and took Mark’s hand, helping him up and dragging him to the kitchen.

You had agreed earlier on what to make for dinner so you easily fell into a rhythm of preparing things together. 

Even though the clouds were grey and it was perpetually raining in London, when you were with Mark, everywhere felt like Greece. 

“Mark, how am I supposed to get any bloody work done when you keep distracting me?” you asked just as he finished pressing yet another kiss to your neck. 

“We could forget about work,” he suggested. 

“As much as that sounds enticing, I’m starving,” you sighed. “And I think we both know what happens when I haven’t had enough to eat.” 

“Yes, I believe we’d like to avoid that,” he nodded his head and went back to chopping up some vegetables. 

“Mark, can you pass me the pepper and paprika please?” you asked, pointed over to his spice cabinet as you walked away from the stove for a minute to go grab something to drink. 

As you bent down to check what was in the fridge, something caught your eye on the counter and you quietly closed the fridge to inspect it. 

“Mark, what’s this?’ you asked, picking up the small box and opening it as he protested only to stare blankly at what was in front of you. 

“Ideally,” he started, “this would not have happened.” 

“I-I just…” your voice trailed off. 

Mark sighed, “You see I was worried this would happen, you’d see this and get scared and run away, and I’ve ruined it, haven’t I.” 

“You mean this is meant for me?” you pointed to the ring, then to yourself. 

He nodded his head.

“When did you get it?” you asked. 

“The day we left Greece,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “See I told you, you would think I was insane-.” 

“I never thought that,” you were grinning, looking up at him. 

“You-You don’t?” he confirmed. 

“Since I’ve ruined the surprise, why don’t you ask me the question and see what my answer is.” you suggested. “Go on.” 

“I-Darling, are you sure you want to do it like this? I could plan something more romantic than being in my kitchen in the middle of making dinner.” 

“No,” you shook your head. “It’s perfect.” 

Mark took a deep breath and walked up to you, taking your hands in his, saying your name in the way he did that made you feel like it was his magic spell that would fix all his problems. 

“Will you-,” 

“Yes,” you interrupted him, unable to even contain your own excitement. 

“You didn’t even let me get the question out,” he chuckled. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you shook your head. “Say it again.” 

“Will you marry me?” 

“Mark Darcy, I would love to marry you,” you grinned and he quickly pulled you in for a searing kiss. 

When you pulled apart, Mark took the ring from the box and slipped it onto your finger. 

“Your parents are going to think we’re insane,” you laughed. 

“And yours won’t?” he poked. 

“Oh I’m sure they will, but-wait, what’s that smell?” you frowned. 

Mark turned around and you looked past him seeing the smoke coming from the pan. 

“Shit!” you exclaimed and quickly went to turn the stove off and move the pan off the hot element. 

You both examined the burnt food and then looked at each other. 

“Take out?” you suggested and he nodded. 

“Thai?” 

“Nah, what about Mexican?” you asked and he shook his head. 

“Indian?” Mark landed on and you nodded. 

“That’s the one.” 

Mark easily reached out his hand and took it in yours before grabbing your coats and heading out the door. 

As you walked down the lit streets, Mark lifted your hands so you could both see the ring glimmering under the streetlamps. 

“I think it looks complete with a ring,” you said. “Don’t you?” 

“I surely do,” he nodded and pressed a kiss to your hand. “I love you, my darling.” 

You smiled fondly at him, “I love you too.” 

—

Several years later…

Mark never got tired of going to sleep and waking up next to you every single day. If anything, his heart longed for you to be next to him when he was away on trips for work. 

Tonight was no different, except it was a little sweeter on this occasion, it always was when he was coming back from being away. 

He quietly got changed and slipped into bed next to you and you jolted awake, turning around excitedly. 

“Jesus, Mark! When did you get here?” you asked. 

“Moments ago,” he chuckled. 

“I tried to stay awake,” you yawned. “I really did.” 

“Well, you’re up now,” he kissed you. “And I suppose that means we can fall back asleep together.” 

“Yes, but before we do that, I have something I wanted to ask you,” you started. “I’ve been thinking about this when you were away and I was wondering what you think of maybe having a little one join us?” 

“You mean like Lucy?” he looked over at the corgi sleeping at the foot of the bed. “I suppose we could get another puppy-,” 

“Mark, not a puppy,” you laughed. “A baby.” 

“A baby,” he hummed thoughtfully. It was something he always assumed he would have, it seemed like the next logical progression of things, and when Mark thought of having a miniature version of you running through the hallways of your home, he was sold. “I think, if you’re ready of course, maybe we should start trying.” 

“Really?” you grinned. 

“It’s an easy decision,” he kissed your nose. “I would take any chance to bring more of your light to the world.”��

You gently reached out for Mark’s cheek and looked at him lovingly. 

“Funny, I was thinking the same about you.” 

You both shared a sweet kiss, and Mark let his lips stray away from your lips, kissing along your jaw then your neck. 

“You know, we could start trying now,” he murmured. “No harm in getting a head start.” 

“Well, I am awake,” you raised your brows and squealed playfully while he pulled you on top of him. 

After a little bit more discussion in the following days, you and Mark had gotten yourselves as prepared as you could for life as a family of three. Mark was determined to make sure your finances were in line and what both of your work lives would look like once a baby came into the picture. With that sorted you began trying, and weeks turned into months, which turned into a year, and then another, still with nothing. 

Mark could see how difficult it was getting, each time you went in with a little light of hope in your eyes, but it continuously became dimmer and dimmer with each negative result. 

At this point, you both wanted it so badly, but nothing you were doing seemed to do the trick so to speak. 

Mark waited patiently outside the washroom while you went in there with another test, by now you had both lost count. When you came out he could see that the test still wasn’t done, so you both waited in silence by the kitchen counters for the three agonizing minutes to pass. 

When your watch beeped, you hesitated before lifting the test up to your face to see what the results were. Mark was standing across from you and he watched as all hope and energy drained from face and how quickly your shoulders began to shake while you covered your face with your hand and began to sob. 

Mark quickly came to your side and wrapped you up in his arms, taking the test away from you and placing it on the counter, allowing you to feel the weight on your chest, but also lean on him. 

“I-I’m so sorry, Mark,” you shook your head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he shook his head. “It’s just a hurdle, we’ll jump over it like we always do.” 

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” you cried softly into his shoulder. “It’s been two years since we started trying, Mark.” 

“Then let’s press pause,” he whispered and kissed your temple, he could feel a few tears welling in his own eyes, not only was his heart crushed by the state you were in, but regardless of how much he let on, he wanted this too. 

After a few more moments in silence together you told Mark you were going to call in sick at the museum and just take the day. 

“Do you want me to stay with you?” he asked. 

“No, you have important things to do at work, you should go,” you said as you walked back into your room. 

Mark watched from the doorway as you walked to your side of the bed and slipped back under the covers. 

“Are you sure?” he checked again. 

“I’m sure,” you nodded. 

He came in and kissed your temple once more, whispering a soft I love you which you returned. 

Mark gathered his things and headed out the door, calling a taxi to come and pick him up. As he sat in the car and an overwhelming feeling came over him, he was about halfway to work when he couldn’t sit with it any longer. 

“Can we please turn the car around,” he asked. “Just take me back to where you picked me up,” he told the driver while dialing a number on his phone. 

“Hello?” a man’s voice on the other line responded. 

“Paul, it’s Mark, I’m not going to be able to come to work today, something came up at home and I have to be with my wife.” 

“I’m sure the world won’t burn down without you for one day,” Paul assured him. “Go be with your wife. You both barely took any time off for your honeymoon anyways.” 

“Thank you, Paul. Call me if you need anything that I can do from home.” 

“I won’t. Like I said, go be with your wife.” 

Mark chuckled and they hung up the phone. He’d always had a hard time letting go of work, but sometimes it was a little easier when it came to you, and you both agreed there were a few things in your relationship that not even an urgent case could pull Mark away from. In his opinion, this was one of them. 

When he entered the house again, he tossed his keys on the front table and slipped off his shoes while loosening his tie. 

Coming back into the room again, he could see you were still curled up in the bed and Mark came carefully placing himself behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“You came back?” you asked. 

“This is more important than work,” he said. “Someone else can save the world today.” 

You turned around and pressed your face into his chest, holding him so tightly. 

“Thank you for coming,” you mumbled. “It hurts a little less when you’re around.” 

“I feel the same,” he kissed your hairline. “And regardless of how things turn out, whether you get pregnant, or we adopt, or decide not to have a baby after all, we’ll still have each other.” 

You looked up at him with a small smile, 

“No regrets?” you asked, but he could tell you were teasing. 

“Never,” he leaned down and kissed you and you knew he meant it. 

—

A few more years later… 

Mark stood outside the front door to his home, looking down at what was in his hands in contemplation. What would be the best way to break the news to you? He could just come in and show you, but perhaps it would be best to tell you slowly, he could manage that, he just had to use his skills as a lawyer and it would be easy as pie, you wouldn’t even know what had hit you. 

With one last deep breath, Mark swung the door open and stepped inside. 

“Darling, I’m home!” he called. 

“Oh good!” you called, “I have something I want to tell you.” 

Mark frowned curiously, and thought to himself what could it be that you had to tell him? 

He hid his one hand behind his back and climbed up the stairs, meeting you in the living room. 

“What was it you wanted to tell me?” you asked when you stepped into the room from the hallway. 

“What did you want to tell me?” he asked in return. 

“Maybe we should go on three?” you suggested and Mark nodded. 

“1…” 

“2…”

“3.” 

“I bought another dog.” “I’m pregnant.” 

Mark’s jaw dropped as he now held the baby dachshund puppy in front of him. 

“You’re-You’re what?!” he repeated. 

“You bought another dog?!” you looked with surprise at the puppy in front of you. 

“I just thought Lucy was getting lonely, and we could use the extra energy in the house, but wait,” he paused, placing the small puppy on a soft spot of the carpet. “You said you’re…” 

“Pregnant,” you smiled. 

“But I thought-,” 

“We couldn’t have kids?” you filled in for him and he nodded. “Turns out impossible sometimes means: very, very, very, very unlikely.” 

“We’re going to have a baby,” Mark said softly to himself. “My God, we’re going to have a baby!” 

He scooped you up in his arms and pressed a smacking kiss to your lips and you joked, 

“Took us long enough.” 

To which Mark laughed and said, 

“I know right.” 

“Now, I think someone on the carpet wants our attention,” you moved over to pick up the small puppy who was wagging its tail excitedly. “What’s your name, little one?” 

“Maisie. She’s a rescue,” Mark said, wrapping his arms around you again from behind. 

“A baby, and a puppy,” you shook your head. “It’s perfect, don’t you think?” 

Lucy barked and you both laughed. 

“Someone certainly thinks so,” Mark commented before bending down to pick Lucy up so she could meet her new sister. 

“It will be a full house, that’s for sure,” you kissed Mark’s cheek, “but something tells me that’s what will make it fun.” 

—

Nine months passed like a whirlwind and before you knew it, your beautiful baby Ana was here with minimal complications, leaving you with a very healthy baby. 

The first time Mark held her in his arms you knew it was love at first sight, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen him smile that big.

“How am I supposed to go back to work when she’s growing every second,” Mark sighed and whispered as you held the napping baby in your arms, sitting up in your bed. 

“You could try it out and see what it’s like,” you suggested. “Or maybe you could do consulting from home for a bit, until she’s a little older. Do you think they would let you do that?” 

“They might,” he nodded. “They’ll probably call the police to report a missing person first.” 

“Come on Mark, you’re not that bad,” you chuckled. “Okay, maybe you are, but you’ve always made time for what’s important. Trust me, especially if you talk to Paul, he’d be surprised if you didn’t quit.” 

“I’ll call tomorrow and speak with the firm to see what they’ll allow,” he said.

“Are you sure you won’t miss working cases too much, and you won’t be too cooped up in the house with us?” 

“I’m sure, and like you said, if it works out I can always reevaluate when she’s older.” 

He looked back down at his daughter and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“Don’t you think she’s just the most beautiful baby you’ve ever laid eyes on,” you sighed, leaning into your husband’s shoulder. 

“The most beautiful indeed,” he turned his head and kissed your temple. “Just like her mother.” 

“Mark, I’m literally a week postpartum after a geriatric pregnancy, no one looks good after that,” you laughed. 

“You have the glow of motherhood,” he insisted. “And your smile still hasn’t changed,” the corner of your mouth with his thumb. 

“Sweat and delirium, my love,” you responded. “But either way,” you looked down at Ana once more. “I still can’t believe she’s really here.”

“Neither can I,” Mark spoke softly, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “Our daughter.” 

“Have you thought about what you want her to call you?” you asked. 

“I was thinking Papa, but I’m not sure it suits me, but she’s far too young to be training her.”

“Speak for yourself, I’ve already started to teach her how to say mum,” you teased which made Mark chuckle. 

Ana started to move and shift in your arms and you could sense she was waking up to be fed. 

“Unfortunately, I can’t be much help for this,” Mark said. “But I can go into the kitchen and warm up one of those lasagnes your mother made when she visited so that we can have something to eat.” 

“Sounds splendid,” you kissed your husband’s cheek and exchanged quick "I love yous" before moving on with your respective tasks. 

No matter how tired you got over the next couple of months, you both would never forget that feeling, the one of gratitude that by some chance of life, you were able to create the little human being in your arms. 

—

“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re okay to do today alone?” you asked. 

“I’m sure,” Mark insisted, “look at us,” he pointed to the baby carrier fitted with a recently one year old Ana. “I’ve got phone consultations lined up for the day and some simple casework. You should go before you’re late.”

“Goodness, you’re right,” you looked down at your watch. “They really don’t tell you how hard it is to leave.”

Mark quickly kissed you goodbye and you kissed Ana, lingering a little longer, not knowing how you’d last a full day without your little girl. 

“Alright, goodbye my loves, I’ll miss you,” you blew them both kisses and Ana giggled which made you smile as you headed down the stairs and quickly ran out the door to get into your taxi. 

Back inside Mark slowly began to get into the groove of things. 

“Today is Papa and Ana banana’s day,” he smiled and kissed the top of her head, listening to her babble. She’d do that whenever he called her Ana banana and sometimes he’d do it just to hear her little attempt at speech and communication. “Alright, shall we get to work?” 

Ana bounced in her carrier, smiling brightly. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Mark grinned. 

Having already felt with breakfast, Mark put on an earpiece and began making his necessary phone calls, walking around his home office consulting on matters pertaining to different cases he was consulting on. 

After about an hour or so Ana began to get a little fussy and Mark assumed she wanted to move around a bit, so he took her out of her carrier and placed her inside an enclosed play area in his office while he did some paperwork. 

He loved any time he would get to spend with Ana, even if it meant working from home. 

The rest of the day went by in a flash and by the time you got home both Mark and Ana were taking a nap on the couch. Ana was lying on top of Mark’s chest drooling on his shirt and Mark still had his bluetooth in his ear. 

It was a sight to see and you quickly snapped a picture before either of them awoke. 

Carefully you took Ana off of Mark and went to place her in her cot and woke up Mark, knowing if he stayed asleep any longer he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night.

“Where’s Ana?” he asked immediately and you chuckled. 

“I put her in the cot. Your father-daughter day go as planned?” 

“Exactly,” he nodded and you kissed his cheek. 

“Come on, I brought home dinner. You can tell me all about it.”

You took Mark by the hand and dragged him to the kitchen, making sure to turn the baby monitor on in case Ana woke up. 

You grabbed your takeout and sat on the counter, eating your food, watching Mark and listening to him recount all of the cute things Ana did throughout the day. 

Even though more of your meals had become store bought and you were running around in every direction, it was always all worth it when at the end of the day you could sit together and visit, especially with Ana at your side. 

—

“I think we should go, don’t you?” you placed the invitation back on the table. “It’s a good excuse to go on vacation again and it’s around the area where we met. It could be romantic.”

Mark looked skeptical. 

“I’m not sure it’s the best idea, perhaps we could go another time.”

“Isn’t this your friend getting married?” you asked. “Come on Mark, please? Right Ana darling? Don’t you wanna go too?”

“Yes Papa,” she stood up in her chair and clasped her small hands together. “Please!” 

Mark looked over at his wife and daughter and shook his head. 

“Alright, I’ll look into the tickets,” he said and you grinned and Ana clapped. 

“Your first real vacation Miss Ana, what do you think?” you kissed her cheek. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I’ve never been on vacation.”

Mark chuckled and picked up his now six-year-old daughter, 

“Well, your mum and I met on vacation,” Mark told her. “She was very clumsy.”

“And your papa was very-”

“Handsome,” Mark tickled Ana and she squealed. “Now before your mum can correct me, why don’t we go look for flights, Ana banana.”

“Alright, Papa,” Ana agreed. 

“Ah ah ah,” you scooped Ana out of Mark’s hands. “After she finishes her dinner.” 

Ana quickly jumped out of your arms and went to eat her food as fast as she could so she could join her dad. 

“Slow down, sweetheart you’re going to choke,” you chuckled as she pushed her plate away from herself, saying,

“Done!” with her mouth half full of food. 

In the end you got what you wanted because three short months later you had landed in Greece and were on your way to the location of the wedding being held for Mark’s friend. 

“Mark, isn’t this the dock where we met?” you asked, looking around at the benches as scenery that looked very familiar. “Yes, I think it is, look, there’s that hotel I stayed at.”

“Mum, this is where you and Papa met?” Ana asked and you nodded. 

“What a lovely coincidence that is,” you smiled and kissed your daughter's cheek. 

Mark just gave you a small smile as you awaited the ferry and after you boarded the crowded boat, you squished into a few seats with Ana sitting half on your leg and half on Mark’s. 

“I guess you finally have the chance to take this ferry,” you laughed a little to yourself, but you could help but notice that Mark was awfully quiet. You figured you’d ask him about it later, maybe once you’d settled in your hotel room, but first on your list was to mingle with the rest of the wedding guests and the bride and groom in some of the hotel common areas. 

All three of you couldn’t have been more happy to get off that boat and Ana was excited to have a little run around before coming back and holding one of your hands and one of Mark’s. 

“Did you and Papa come here, Mum?” Ana asked while swinging both her arms. 

“No, we didn’t,” you shook your head. “I guess we were just waiting to come with you.” 

“Well you waited a long time.” 

That made you both chuckle as you finally finished your walk and arrived at the hotel. 

“Should we check in or-?” 

“Mark!” you all turned when you heard his name only to see a bright smiling blonde woman coming your way. “Mark, it’s so good to see you, I’m so glad you could make it.”

She gave him a big hug before taking a step back and introducing herself to both you and Ana.

“I’m Bridget,” she said. “It’s so nice to meet you all, you must be Mark’s family.”

“Yes,” you grinned. “And you’re the bride!” 

“Guilty,” she laughed. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come or not, but I figured I’d throw the invitation out there.” 

“Oh, why wouldn’t he come?” you asked curiously, not noticing Mark’s tense reaction. 

“It’s just, after Mark and I broke up I came to Greece, oh what was it, around ten fifteen years ago, and I just hoped it wasn’t a sore subject still, but I can see it isn’t,” she pointed at you and Ana. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

You wanted to respond, but your mouth seemed to stop working. You heard Mark do it for you and quickly excused you all so you could check into the hotel. 

You could hear your name being said a few times when finally a gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your trance. 

“Ana, can you do Papa a favour and go over there and spend time with aunt Jude?” he asked. 

“Okay,” she nodded and chased after her father’s friend’s wife leaving just you and Mark. 

You turned to him with a hurt look on your face, 

“You came to Greece to chase after her didn’t you,” you said quietly. “That’s why I found you on the dock; that’s why you were waiting for the ferry.”

Mark chewed on his lip and nodded. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me she was your ex before letting me convince myself it was a good idea to come here?” 

“Darling, you were so excited and I didn’t think it mattered-,”

“Mark, please,” you shook your head. “I just-,” you paused and took a breath. “I need some time.” 

You took some of your things and went to the front desk to check into the hotel while Mark went to join Jude who had Ana in her arms. He made friendly conversation until you were done and you collected Ana and went upstairs to your room in silence. 

“Ana, how are you feeling, my love?” you asked. 

“I’m a little sleepy,” she admitted. “Is it bedtime soon?” 

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “We’ll all get ready and tuck in early, how does that sound?” 

She yawned, “Good.” 

Once you got in the room, you started to help Ana get changed while Mark got out your toiletries and easily took over when it came to teeth brushing. You took the time to get changed and settled, giving Ana a book to flip through while you and Mark both silently got ready for bed and slipped in the bed on either side of Ana. 

You slept close to the edge, your back turned away from the centre so Ana naturally decided to curl closer to father. 

“Is Mum okay?” Ana asked in a quiet mumble. 

“I hope so,” Mark kissed her head. “Why don’t we go to sleep, maybe we’ll all feel a little better in the morning.” 

You hoped deep down Mark was right. 

—

“Why isn’t Mum coming with us to the beach?” Ana asked while Mark helped her put on some sunscreen. 

“She just needs some time to herself,” Mark said simply. “You know how Mum and Papa sometimes like to have alone time.” 

“Yeah, but we’re on vacation,” she tilted her head. “Do you think she’ll come later?” 

“Maybe Ana banana, I’m not sure. I think Papa might have hurt her feelings by accident,” he admitted. 

“Did you say you were sorry?” she asked. 

“I did, but sometimes we need to say sorry and give some alone time, too.” 

Ana nodded her head thoughtfully, “Okay, then let’s go to the beach so she can have her alone time.”

Mark nodded his head and took his daughter’s hand in one of his and grabbed a bag in the other and they headed out to the beach together. 

Ana was adamant on starting off with a sandcastle, but both her and Mark found out quickly it was a little harder than it looked in all the movies, so they quickly abandoned that task to go for a swim. Ana had always enjoyed being in the water and Mark loved seeing how much she was enjoying herself. He just wished you were there to see it with him. 

He tried to keep his focus on Ana for the time being, knowing he would hopefully have a moment later to talk to you, but the day passed so quickly and before he knew it you were back in bed resting to prepare for the rehearsal dinner the next day. 

The next morning, Mark made a point to speak with you before you went down for breakfast, knowing if he left it he may not catch you until dinner. 

“I spoke with Jude,” he started, “she can look after Ana this afternoon so we can talk.” 

“Alright,” you nodded. “We can meet on the terrace.” 

Mark agreed and before you left, quickly reached for your hand to give it a squeeze. 

You chewed on your lip before squeezing it back, he was still your husband and you still loved him regardless of your hurt. 

The afternoon couldn’t come fast enough for Mark, he waited anxiously by the terrace after dropping Ana off with Jude, at least she’d have fun playing with her friends. 

“Mark,” you waved him down by the stairs. “Come on, let's walk,” you suggested. 

He jogged to catch up with you and you walked side by side down the stairs and further along into the streets, busy with traffic and locals, just going about their daily business. 

“I figured I should probably tell you the whole story of how I ended up in Greece,” Mark said, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

You nodded your head and motioned for him to continue. 

“After Bridget and I broke up, for the second time mind you, I thought I had to chase after because in my mind I thought she was the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with,” he said truthfully. “So I wound up on that bench on the dock, mourning my losses as she came to the island and I was stuck on the mainland.”

“You wanted to marry her?” you asked. 

“I thought I did,” he clarified, “but then I met you.” 

“Mark-,” 

“You know me, darling. I’m terrible with emotional declarations, which is probably why I never managed to tell you how quickly I fell in love with you,” he admitted. “I was set to pack my bags and go home, but you convinced me, somehow just in your demeanour to stay, and so I did and spent ten of the most wonderful days of my life by your side. It made me realize the reason I came to Greece wasn’t for Bridget, I came because I had to meet you.” 

You looked up at Mark and saw him staring down at his shoes. 

“It never occurred to me to mention her because of how clear my future looked with you in it. How clear it still looks.” 

“And how does it look?” you asked. 

“Well,” he sighed. “Ana grows up and becomes a lawyer of course.” 

You chuckled at that. 

“And as she grows we retire eventually, move into that rundown cottage in the countryside we always talk about buying. They come up with some way to keep dogs alive forever and we grow old, fixing our cottage with Lucy and Maisie and Ana visits us on weekends, eventually with a husband and our grandchildren. It’s quiet and simple, but it’s us.” 

You smiled a little to yourself and leaned your head against his arm which he easily wrapped around you. 

“How uncomfortable was that for you?” you asked, knowing your husband wasn’t often fond of talking about his feelings.

“Unbearable,” he said, “but worth it.” 

“Good,” you turned his head to face you and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I’d love to grow old with you, Mark Darcy. Although I’m already convinced we have a little bit, the hotel bed is really not doing it for my back.” 

“That’s funny, I was going to say the pillows for my neck,” Mark teased and you nudged him a little. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” 

“I’m sorry I doubted you had a very romantic reason for not telling me,” you joked while circling back towards the hotel. Ana caught both of your eyes and she waved at you, rushing down to meet you at the bottom of the stairs, much to Jude’s worry. 

“Mum, is your alone time done?” Ana asked. 

“Yes it is, my dear,” you laughed and bent down to kiss her forehead. 

“Good, cause you need to come see this trick I learned!” she exclaimed, grabbing both yours and Mark’s hands and pulling you up the stairs. 

@/iceman-kazansky

[w2sology]

Kids fic/dilf Harry plsss

big little boss, harry lewis.

summary: harry just can't seem to say no when it comes to his little girl, especially when she's taken his pestering and temper.

warnings: mentions of baby teething, not proofread!

notes: had to pull out the prompt list for this one 😭 anyways babygirl finally has a name thanks to the beautiful anon who recommended it :))

darcy had recently began teething and it was an absolute mare. you and harry were up later than usual trying to get her to sleep or soothing her pain, and nothing seemed to be working. one of the few things that did work was letting her lay skin to skin on harry's chest until she fell asleep.

however a problem with that was that darcy was a biter. as in anything remotely near her mouth would feel the consequences of her not-yet-there teeth.

harry was taking the brunt of it, his skin littered in little marks from when he'd hold her close to him and she'd just grab at whatever was closest to her. and in response, harry would yelp or cuss, hoping she was still in that phase where she didn't yet understand words enough to repeat them back.

with you on the other hand, darcy was much more gentle. she'd only give you a nibble here and there if your fingers were close to her mouth, somehow being able to sense that the look you were giving her wasn't one of approval.

also, unlike harry you actually utilised the teething toys that were gifted to you two at your baby shower, so darcy was pretty much preoccupied with chewing on something else other than you.

today was a pretty regular day for your small family; harry wasn't filming with the boys and you were still on maternity leave with no plans for the day. deciding to use it as a means to go for a big shop later on, you and harry made a start early on in the day.

"did you make her bottle or should i?" harry mumbled as his arms wrapped around your body, tucked in comfortably right behind you as you made yourself a cup of tea.

"that's alright, love, i already did it," smiling at this soft kisses he left along your neck and on your cheek. "is she up yet?"

harry nodded, telling you that darcy was having a bit of tummy time in the sitting room. and as you looked over, you couldn't help but laugh at the makeshift fort harry had made our of pillows to make sure nothing happened to darcy.

he allowed you to finish your tea, opting to get darcy dressed for the day.

"how the fuck does this go on?" harry mumbled to himself, fiddling with the button on darcy's blouse. he really didn't know why kids clothes had to be almost as complicated as adult clothes.

darcy babbled on to herself as harry slid on her socks, making random noises as harry entertained her too, pretending they were having a conversation of their own.

as he picked her up off of the bed, harry looked through his wardrobe in search of his own outfit for the day.

darcy's head lay on her dad's shoulder poking around at his skin before she stopped briefly.

next thing harry knew, her sharp gums were sinking into his bare shoulder.

"ow─── darc!" he groaned, mismatching her smile and refusal to release his shoulder.

maybe that was harry's fault for not wearing a shirt.

"i told you to wear a shirt around her," you couldn't hold in your laugh as you walked in, taking your daughter from her father's arms and wiping over the baby pink mark that she left on him.

"i didn't know she was gonna fucking bite me at every chance," harry huffed, kissing your lips before leaving to get changed himself.

"you," you said, tickling darcy's tummy and hearing her bright laugh. "need to stop biting your daddy."

it turns out you and harry didn't actually pick a place to shop at. usually you'd go to tesco, sometimes asda or costco. but since you didn't plan which of them to go to, harry ended up driving to tesco.

ever since you gave birth, he'd been offering to drive you around a lot more, slotting away from his preferred role of passenger princess. and you weren't complaining, not one bit.

so as you opened up the makeshift shopping list on your notes, harry sat darcy in the kids's seat of the trolley and began to push her.

shopping with harry usually consisted of him grabbing random things and claiming they were needed, whereas you were more organised and actually took note of what you did and didn't have at home.

now with a little one, it was like harry's role had been multiplied by two. whenever she could reach out for something, darcy would make a show of clinging onto it with her little hands until you and harry had no choice but to take it with you to the till.

as you picked out two boxes of cereal, harry was entertaining darcy, who seemed nothing short of unamused. she watched as her dad poked and prodded gently at her, waiting for a smile to decorate her face.

"what's gotten into you, hm?" he frowned, stroking her cheek with his finger, momentarily forgetting his daughter was teething.

"darc, you've gotta stop biting me," harry whimpered, pulling his finger away from her grip. he looked over at you with a frown, cradling his finger but you were to immersed in the food shoo to realise.

you continued to scroll through the aisles, harry and darcy following right behind you. every now and then you'd turn to harry, holding up and item and he'd either nod yes or shake his head no.

it went on like that for a few moments until darcy grew a little agitated with sitting still for too long. just harry's luck, you guys were near the baby aisle, so he took darcy down there in hopes of finding something to distract her for a little bit.

a small teething toy caught his eye, and actually made him let out a sigh of relief, as if darcy would be able to take it out on the toy now and not on him.

"here you go," he smiled, letting her hold on to it. he wasn't sure if you two would end up buying it or not, so he kept it in its packaging, hoping she'd find some entertainment in just looking at it.

and that she did; she was quiet for the rest of the shop aside from the occasional babble and giggle she let out.

now at the till, harry helped you unload the shopping, and it was then that you noticed the nee toy darcy had. "really, harry?" you held in a laugh.

"what?"

"she's got like ten of those already, and some are in her bag," you gestured to darcy's baby essential bag that you brought with you.

harry glanced down at the bag, then back at you, shrugging as he continued to unload the shopping. "one more won't hurt."

harry was such a girl dad, he couldn't ever bring himself to say no to her. quite like he was with you sometimes.

you rolled your eyes, attempting to take the toy away from darcy to place on the till with the rest of the stuff. "darcy, babe, i'm just going to pay for it," you laughed at her super strong grip, and the frown that replaced her smile, similar to how harry looked when he was moping about.

she shook her head, trying to hide the the toy close to her chest. she looked over at harry with those huge eyes of hers, expecting him to intervene.

and that he did. he let you unpack the small amount of items still in the trolley as he picked darcy out of it, kissing all over her face to distract her from the fact that the toy was no longer in her hands, but instead on the conveyor belt.

but darcy didn't seem to notice. instead, both her small hands were on either side of harry's face, squishing and poking as she smiled and babbled to him.

you didn't know how he did it, it was as if he was just meant to understand her better than you. you didn't mind though, it meant that harry was the one who got the end of darcy's little tantrums instead of you.

when it came to pay for the items, harry reached over and tapped his phone on the card machine, ignoring the glare you were giving him as you collected the receipt.

"you thought you almost got away with it," he laughed, knowing that no matter what, he'd always pay if you were with him.

he helped you but the bags back in the trolley, darcy safely in his hold as you walked back to the car.

when she was buckled in, harry handed her the toy that she surely forgot all about, kissing her forehead. "now you can stop biting me," he smiled, going back to the driver's side.

you smiled at your daughter through the mirror, matching that smile to harry's when he put his seatbelt on.

"why're you looking all soppy, then?"

"nothing," you rolled your eyes, smile still on your face. "just happy, is all."

[blakbonnet]

Hello! I was wondering if you had any Gentlebeard fanfic you would recommend on ao3? Ideally a nice slow-burn with a few chapters but honestly anything you like would be great - just on the search for more fics to digest. Thank you!

I'd recommend everything by @xoxoemynn and @darcylindbergh if you're looking for some very soft and in character, kinda awkward but also canon compliant, ed and stede ❤️ they've both got a ton of shorter works too. My favourite ofmd fics are:

Witness Marks (unhinged smut, horny clock boys)

Where the Daylight Begins (long but so so good, slow burn, I've read this one 4 to 5 times by now, magical realism and lovable crew on top of lovable ed and stede)

Roll for Charisma (so fluffy and some top quality pining, the plot of the show is their D&D campaign)

The Devil's Panties by @adickaboutspoons (sex pollen but make it so fluffy and earnest that my skin melted off my bones)

Separating Salt from Water by @nonagethimus (one of the tags is homoerotic shark hunting, enough said)

You Belong in that Home By and By (everyone wants Stede, but Stede only wants Ed)

Two Birds @red-sky-in-mourning (very gentle romance tinged with good angst but happy endings)

Grounded (fluffy smut, stede is something else in darcy's hands, no one gets him this right trust me)

Your Name Like a Boat (the angst oh my god this one still hurts, another one I've read a bunch of times and a very fulfilling ending)

The Kraken's Sacrifice @trinityofone (actual kraken ed and they're so soft and in love, this one is a bit out there but it's so interesting, i finished it in one sitting)

From Gloom to Grace @bizarrelittlemew (pollen but it makes them cuddle is there anything better)

Stealing Romance by @skrifores (I prayed for a realistic jealous ed fic and this one is it)

Little Wonder @ofmd-alsaurus (stede has a tiny dick, ed is really into it, it's funny and sweet)

Only by the Grace of the Sea @palavapeite (hot priest stede, incredible writing, slow burn)

Leggy Blonde You Got in Goin' On by @palavapeite (stede joins a gym, most in character stede I've read in this fandom)

And I'd 100% recommend my own fic 😬 Moonstone Mage Championship (slow burn, fantasy, idiots to lovers)

[wttcsms]

no but imagine a 2000s-esque romcom of a fic with journalist!reader and pro!sakusa. the very definition of an ambitious reporter, you get right down to business. except, it's not world news that you're reporting; it's something way more relevant and serves society much more: you're a celebrity gossip columnist.

okay, well you were a celebrity gossip columnist. however, a mega corporation ended up buying out a sports magazine and your beloved girly-pop magazine, and then decided to merge the two companies together to make some weird-ass blend of a publication. so, the focus on sports and athletics is still there, but the new managers want drama. something to get people to subscribe and to actually buy physical magazines again. besides having hot pics of shirtless athletes on the covers, they're requesting juicy headlines that can't be read anywhere else. you and every other writer has to be the first person to any story.

of course, it's a merger and with too many employees coming in from both former magazine companies, there will be cuts. everyone is trying to get the craziest story because everyone is trying to keep their job; you're no different.

fine. they want exclusive stories? then you, ever so ambitious, know who your mark is going to be: kiyoomi sakusa. he's the perfect target. he's rarely in the media for anything good or bad, everyone (from fans to haters) is hungering for any type of scraps on him, but most importantly, you have a bone to pick with him.

you overhear him at an event one day where he was complaining about journalists to his teammates. you think he's shit talking (he's just blunt but i wanted a darcy/pride + prejudice moment with sakusa!!! the misunderstanding that builds the prejudice u have against him!!!), and he's going on about how phony and annoying they are when they introduce themselves... it wouldn't sting as much, but five minute prior, you just got done introducing yourself to him!!! so, you're out for blood. you are going to crush sakusa with this article.

you know what they say: keep your enemies closer. so you build a professional relationship with kiyoomi first, gaining his trust, but somehow, this is the first time sakusa's ever felt seen by a person. he opens up to you. he starts telling you about his bad relationship with the media, how they all seem like vultures, ready to destroy him for no reason other than a paycheck, how you're different. he doesn't like doing much public media appearances or interviews because the media likes to blow everything out of proportion and he's not the type of person who's good at appealing to others.

your article is due SOON. you don't have another story lined up, and if that's the case, you better start searching for another job. you have to decide between your career or your relationship with sakusa. you choose him, of course, but before you can come clean about your original intentions, he ends up finding the draft of your article on him.

[kachowblueninja]

I need a fic with the ninja being invited to a fancy party, by their host, cyrus borg. And while the other ninja are meeting the important people of the city, the white ninja is rather distracted by Borgs daughter. Pixal in a nice shiny silk dress, silver to match her hair and zane is SMITTEN. He spends the night trying to win her over, researching the most loved male romance characters and heartthrobs and imitating them ; Westley, mark ruffalo, jack dawson, mr. Darcy, laurie, james dean,Heath ledger, danny zuko, paul rudd, james bond, tom hanks, william thacker, kevin bacon, patrick swayze, rob lowe so on and so on. She thinks hes cute for trying so hard and fumbling. He pretty much short-circuits when she greets him

[brb-on-a-quest]

I had a thought last night, and even though the only canon bat source I've had is WFA, and I've only *just* started getting into fanfic, so characterizations may not be accurate/have been done before, but IDK. I need this to exist out there.

Timothy Drake-Wayne writes fics sometimes.

It started off with the necessity of creating so many fake IDs. One thing led to another and Tim was coming up with backstories for all the Johns, Marys, and Joes that he invented while doing his Gotham digital surveillance. After all, he was trying to make these people's fake IDs look as real as possible, which meant more than just a name on a couple of sheets of paper.

It means creating a fake digital footprint. For each one.

So, on the rare occasions when things are calmer, and he's not immediately needed, he sits on his computer and types out head cannons for each of the OCs he has created. He spends a lot of time doing research on different cultures, neurodivergencies, physical abilities, and backgrounds to try and 1) paint accurate pictures and 2) learn. He hides the world building tidbits in a secret folder that he's taken so many measures to hide from Oracle (she already knows, but she doesn't actively look after finally figuring out what the folder of names, complete with physical descriptions, life stories, and preferences is out of respect for Timothy). (Also, all this writing knowledge actually comes in handy for crime-solving things, but he doesn't fully realize it at the time).

Tim even went as far as to make social media accounts for some of his favorites and posts bits and pieces of the head cannons to make them, again, seem like real people. Just in case. As a precaution. You never know.

Jason finds out somehow, in a freak accident and collision of siblings that so often happens. Tim is sweating bullets, trying to steel himself for the endless teasing. He is fully prepared to delete every single file that's in that folder and deny that it ever exists for all eternity.

Except Jason doesn't. Jason's too much of a literary nerd (granted, he prefers more classic literature than social media fics, but this is another thing he can connect with his little brother on- he's *excited*) to tease Tim about the writing. He kind of persuades Tim to take more time for his hobby because Tim has some markings of talent in his very specific creative niche. Tim may have also convinced Jason to try it exactly once, to create a fake Twitter profile for Mr. Darcy and create shitposts from his point of view. He has a great time with it once, and then he moves on (but sometimes he creates other accounts for other characters that Tim doesn't know about).

They make a pact between the two of them not to tell the others; they'd ask too many questions and make it less fun.

But every once in a while, Tim would walk into Jason's place to crash for a bit, steal all of his Red Bull, update Jason on his writing projects, and get writing advice.

[neverenoughmarauders]

For someone who’s not the biggest wolfstar fan I’m arguably irrationally in love with Bite and Prejudice by myheadsgonenumb! But there’s nothing irrational about something this beautiful! I love it soooooo much!

The mark of a good fic is that you either can’t put it down and rush through it or that you know you need to pace yourself because every word is a treat! This is the latter type. As someone who’s a big fan of P&P and HP it’s just a masterpiece (!!!!) and reading a chapter or two is always going to be a highlight of a day!

I’ve always known Sirius would be Darcy and James would be Bingley (it’s the sort of thing my poor husband and I discuss), but Trelawney as Mary Bennet(!), Peter as Mr Hurst, Lockhart as Mr Wickham and Snape as Mr Colins are among the many fun features of this story 🥰🙌

Edit: I also want to make clear it is that good because it is wolfstar, not despite it (in case my note made it seem otherwise)! Remus and Sirius are absolutely adorable creatures <3

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 22

welcome to the twenty-second fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. you’re the one that never lets me roam by @littendeservesbetter

If any of his teammates were insulted—if Allura’s leadership was doubted, if Hunk was called too soft, if Pidge was underestimated, if Keith was attacked for his Galran heritage—Lance would defend them in a heartbeat. He knows his team and he loves his second family. He’d defend them to the universe and back.

So why wouldn’t they do the same for him?

-

season 7 episode 4: Lance's thoughts after the game show.

this fic is genuinely one of my favourite handlings of that piece of shit episode ever fr. its klance BUT also not a half-assed apology!! im not articulating this right but my point is that this is handled so well and god bless my fellow lance stans

2. xo by @thespacenico

keith confesses to lance hoping that the expected rejection will help him move on ASAP. it doesn't quite go according to plan.

darcy does not miss!! seriously her fics always make me smile. my two favourite parts of this fic were  that a) when lance didn’t know who keith liked he assumed immediately and wholeheartedly it was hunk. that’s golden right there and b) shiro is a DRAMA LOVING BITCH

3. for you only by @paprbee

"Be mine," Keith mumbles, pleas, against Lance's lips, unwilling to pull away. "Yes," Lance whispers, smiling as Keith brushes their lips together again, pressing up and forward to kiss Keith properly. "You too... be mine, too." "I am," Keith tells him when they break apart reluctantly, their foreheads pressed together, tip of their noses touching, Keith's arms squeezing Lance gently in their hold around his waist and lower back. "I'm yours."

okay i cannot describe how much this fic makes me lose my mind in my own words i literally have to give you guys a snippet of the fic that made me actually cry real tears and struggle to breathe:

"Baby," Keith says softly and it sends a thrill through Lance, hearing pet names from Keith is so rare he always melts when he does hear them, specially when they're whispered against his lips this way. He presses a soft chaste kiss into Lance again before he continues to mutter softly. "My baby, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you."

its just. the devotion. the repetition. it always fucking gets me. from keith especially, bc hes such a devoted guy!! he is loyal to a goddamn fault and beyond like!!! thats how he loves!! with his whole heart his whole body his whole soul his own being!! he loves and loves and loves!!!

4. i’ll be your romeo by @jilliancares

In a world where Soul Marks show up only after your soulmate has fallen in love with you, it's rare for them to appear when you're not already in a relationship. It's even rarer for them to show up when you're standing on a chair in your favorite coffee shop, screeching at the sight of a spider. Lance becomes well-acquainted with this brand of "rare", and he gets the cute barista, Keith, to help him with the search for his soulmate.

first of all soulmate aus my beloved. second of all jillian fics my beloved. third of all this fic is SO dorky and i love it!! i was hooked by the first scene bc it was just so funny. the way keith falls for lance...hes such a goober i love him

5. finally, you’re mine by @nezueye

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“Okay. Anything,” Keith says easily.

[...]

“Okay so, I just need-“ Lance sighs. He pushes his hands through his hair and braces himself. “I need you to break my heart. Once and for all.”

Keith chokes on his next words. “Excuse me?”

“Break my heart.”

- or -

Does Lance finally get the guy?

this is another devotion fic bc i am fully and completely obsessed with them. i made a seperate rec for this fic a couple months ago bc it truly made my breath stop like i could not process. there were three scenes in particular that made me gasp out loud and make my heart pound. just the easy way they love each other...sobbing

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!  

[the-ace-with-spades]

Still on my Pacific Rim AU brainrot so here we go with the fic idea that's not leaving my head...

Backstory - so, if anyone's seen the Dossier Files I made, you might already know bits of it but:

Everything from Top Gun (1986) except for Goose's death still happened, we just move the event by around 10 years into the future so it was like 1996/7 instead. Kaiju start attacking in 2006, Carole dies in the attack on San Diego, and Mav and Goose become one of the first co-pilots along with Ice and Slider.

Goose dies in Romeo Blue when they're still connected and Mav adopts Bradley (who is 13/14 at the time). He and Ice are married already and Slider, who has another baby on the way, retires from combat after Goose's death, scared that he's going to orphan his kids, too.

Ice and Mav start drifting together and they are The Dream Team™. Obviously, Bradley watches it all as he's being moved from Shatterdome to Shatterdome with the Lucky Seven Team.

He turns seventeen, gets into the Jaeger Academy Program and the whole pulling the papers happens but Bradley is stubborn and a legacy kid so the current Marshal from their Shatterdome (I imagine Viper, maybe?) goes over Mav's head and he gets in and starts attending at eighteen. This made the situation between Brad, Mav, and Ice tense as hell (especially Mav because Bradley knows Ice is too soft to ever tell him no and it was not his initiative) but they still talk

Bradley aces the training and during it, finds his co-pilot, Darcy (OC, obviously). They get the newest Mark-III to pilot, Gipsy Danger and they instantly become The Dream Team™ too. Bradley becomes PPDC's poster boy as the late Bradshaw's kid (no one knows about the Mav and Ice thing...) and Darcy is the youngest pilot to enter the program and one the few Aussie pilots that qualified in the past few years. They're the new duo of the PR team basically and they're sold off as celebrities when they have a win after a win.

They take a year off when Darcy gets pregnant, in reserve in LA, and when they're back to active duty and Knifehead happens and Bradley goes through the exact same thing Mav went through - his co-pilot dies when they're still connected. Darcy's mind never leaves his brain and he can still feel her.

Just before this, Ice gets diagnosed with cancer and stops piloting to basically not die under the neural load. Mav is looking for a new pilot.

Something that would be a big spoiler happens between Mav and Bradley and Bradley leaves PPDC.

Mav and Ice are visiting the training program with the new recruits and Jake, the cocky son of a bastard, challenges Mav to a fight and they accidently find out they're drift compatible. And Jake becomes Mav's new co-pilot for Striker Eureka.

The world goes to shit, Ice is running PPDC as renegades and they're running out of pilots, and after over 4 years, he tracks Bradley down to where he's working as a cargo pilot at the Anti-Kaiju Wall. He doesn't know one thing though - that Bradley has a kid, a three-year-old daughter.

They arrive in Tokyo Shatterdome and Bradley meets Natasha, who, in Ice's mind is a great candidate for his drift partner (and becomes his daughter's favorite very quickly), and Bob, one of the leading upgrade engineers for the re-commissioned Gipsy. And Jake, the biggest ass Bradley's met who has a problem with him even though they've never met before.

Now, Jake is a bigger ass than usually because he had a celebrity crush on Bradley - or rather a Crush with capital C, posters in his bedroom, interviews recorded and saved on his laptop, t-shirts with Gipsy Danger and Jake Bradshaw written in the back of his math notebook included. He had daydreamed about meeting Bradley and impressing him and becoming a co-pilot pair ala Ice and Mav and when he disappeared right before Jake had an opportunity to meet him in Sydney Shatterdome, he was Mad™. It subsided with the years going and the longer Bradley was gone, the more he was becoming PPDC's new poster boy. In Jake's mind, he went from zero to hero and Bradley went from hero to zero.

And then Bradley shows up at his 'Dome and he realizes the crush isn't gone at all and he's Fucking Mad™ about it. And then he discovers Bradley's got a kid.

Some smaller details I might include somehow:

Nat was one of the crew of the Crimson Typhoon up until a year before.

Jake is half-Aussie and the accent switches places with the Texan drawl sometimes (he learned to hold it back because his dad didn't like it when he spoke with his mama's accent). Everyone thinks it's fake but Bradley realizes it's genuine because Darcy was Aussie. (Also, I added this detail because I was struggling to find a reason why Mav and Jake would have an Australian Jaeger as Americans...)

Slider's family (aside from his eldest daughter who is in college) is at the 'Dome with him, including Sara.

Bradley and Darcy's drivesuits were metallic red, now Brad only wears black. Mav and Jake wear metallic green, but it used to be metallic blue when he and Ice were drifting together.

Bradley's daughter had multiple Jaeger Plushies and ironically, her favorite is Striker Eureka because it has a dog in the decal and 'has a funny name and funny face'

When Bradley leaves, he leaves his dog with Mav and Ice (one he got when he was seventeen) and when Jake moves to the 'Dome, he basically announces the dog is now his, not Mav's, because he likes Jake better (I still don't know what dog breed, tho?? I'm hanging onto a beagle/miniature german shepherd atm)

Sara's and Ice's names are spelled this way (Sara and Tomasz) because that's how they'd be spelled if they were Polish.

Bradley carries a boombox into the jaeger every time he rides - uses his dad's and mom's cassette tapes. He's also got a couple of walkmans and his daughter her own too - decorated with stickers and glitter.

Things bordering on spoiler-y + additional dossier for Darcy and Brad's medical report under the cut:

The shit that happened between Mav and Brad was that Ice had the idea that hey, maybe you could drift together, and they could, really well at that, Mav just...didn't react well? It ended with them almost blowing up Lucky Seven and Ice erased the records so no one knew the details. They both said some shit and Bradley decided he's never trusting Mav again and he's got nothing holding him in the PPDC.

Bradley and Nat are compatible, they're actually really compatible for a pair of people who are not related/never met before, but Bob is going to be Nat's co-pilot, and Bradlye and Jake will ride together, is all I'm saying.

The mockup files not included in the previous post (with a small cameo from Penny):

Text in ALTs

(also, going to tag you here, @redfurrycat, because I thought you might like it 👉👈)

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

What do you think of the prolog for my 1st chapter, is it good?

link to the main fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/56033533/chapters/142316074) in case you want to comment, TW for semi-sexual content:

It was a clear day in the Northern Isles, as the reddish-orange sun shone brightly on the cloud-covered, muted teal-gray sky. 

SIXTEEN YEARS AGO

Darcy, even in her teenage years, bore the unmistakable mark of otherworldly grace. Her skin was a canvas of stark duality; half cloaked in the deepest vantablack that swallowed light whole, and the other half radiant with a pulsating white light that seemed to defy the very essence of shadow. This contrast was not just skin deep—it mirrored her nature, a being balanced between the cosmic and the human. Her youthful features softened her appearance, yet even then, she carried a regal air, her every movement and glance hinting at the profound power she was destined to wield. Her short hair was made of living flames, styled half black-and-white. She wore a black jacket, a white-and-purple striped shirt, and ankle boots. Most of her other features noticeable when she is an adult were either not there yet or hidden.

She rode on her Siamese cat palisman and out of the sky into a cobblestone street in the middle of a snowy forest. A zeppelin with a steampunk aesthetic zoomed overhead. 

The school building is a Gothic structure that is easily recognizable due to its distinct pointed arches, ribbed vaults, and flying buttresses. It features ornate stonework, which includes tracery on the windows and decorative finials at the pinnacles. The façade of the building is adorned with a series of tall and narrow lancet windows with pointed tops, which is typical of Gothic architecture. It can be assumed that the building has gargoyles or grotesques serving as waterspouts projecting from the roof. There is a cloister-like covered walkway supported by columns with capitals featuring intricate carvings, likely floral or foliate designs, which lead down to an arched portal. The roof is steeply pitched to aid in water runoff, and it is possibly covered with slate tiles, which was common in such structures. 

The building has several levels, with the upper floors likely containing a gallery or clerestory windows, which are designed to bring light into the interior. The buttresses are robust, providing structural support to the walls, allowing them to reach impressive heights and maintain large windows. The masonry work suggests the use of cut stone, possibly limestone or granite, which were frequently used in Gothic architecture for their durability and workability. Each stone would have been carefully shaped and placed, contributing to the intricate patterns and textures on the building's surface. 

The school has a parking lot for all staff in case they aren't needed for the lessons, and the walls are perpetually colder than the inside of a medieval fort so students must wear thick clothing to stay warm... unless they're learning ice magic.

She parked her palisman in a nearby rack and pulled out her bag for the day, she chewed on a maroon-colored candy bar that melted in her mouth.

“Hey Dorkcy!” A snobby voice called.

Darcy mentally groaned. Ugh, not HER again!

The girl in question stepped forward with an air of confidence, introducing herself as a witch with fair skin and a stature of medium height. Her vibrant ginger hair was neatly braided into playful pigtails, adding a touch of whimsy to her appearance. Freckles sprinkled across her cheeks like constellations in the night sky, enhancing the mischievous glint in her eyes. As she spoke, her eyelashes fluttered down to the bottom of her eyelids, framing her gaze with an enigmatic allure. A subtle gap in her top teeth peeked through her smile, hinting at a hidden depth behind her seemingly innocent demeanor.

Her name was Maggie, and to Darcy… she was a pain in the arse.

“Whatcha eatin'? A magical goop bar?” Maggie jeered, her voice dripping with mock curiosity. She leaned in closer, her eyes scanning Darcy’s snack as if it were an alien artifact rather than a candy bar. “Or is it one of those special treats from the dark side of the fridge?”

Darcy rolled her eyes, the flames in her hair flickering slightly with her irritation. She kept her voice cool, almost icy.

“It's not a goop bar, Maggie. It’s a bocadillo, a traditional snack made of guava jelly and panela.” She started smiling,  “Mom made it for me ‘cause it's my birthday!” She proudly announced. 

Maggie deadpans, “Oh, well happy birthday.” 

Before giving a mean smile, “GIMME THAT!” She tries to pull the snack away. 

“Get your own mom to make you a nice treat, Maggie,” Darcy retorted sharply, trying to fend off the bully, her grip tightening on the bocadillo. “This isn’t for sharing, especially not with you.” Her words were punctuated by a slight tug, pulling the snack closer to her chest.

They continued tussling until a voice rang out, distinctly male and sharp.

“Hey, Margo!” 

Rock music filled the air as a teenage Blitzo, sporting braces, a black tank top emblazoned with the word "Mammon" in bold yellow letters split into "Mam" on top and "Mon" on the bottom, a spiked collar, green-yellow pants, heeled black boots, and a leather jacket adorned with spikes. He had his hands on his hips and looked at the fight with a glare.

"Leave her alone!" he growled, glancing back to see a student seated in the bleachers of a nearby courtyard. The student had stylishly dyed purple hair that partially covered his face.

Blitzo smirked, "Nice guitar solo, by the way."

"YEAH!" yelled the student, who flashed a rocker sign in response to Blitzo's comment.

Maggie blushed a darker shade of red, as she retorted to Blitzo. “Or else what?!”

“Or else you can forget to come to an awesome pool party in Temperance next week, Archangel Raphael and everyone is going to be there, ” She turns her face to clearly fake upset, even checking midway through that Maggie is falling to her will, “It'll be really sad when the whole class is enjoying the party,” Blitzo almost seems to enjoy his game with his shit-eating grin.

“Without you~,” He said in a sing-song voice.

Maggie felt defeated as she realized that Darcy was of Morningstar royalty, being the daughter of God, the Radio Demon, and the Root of all Evil. If this little scandal ever got out, especially if Blitz told the Elders of Heaven who are Darcy's older siblings, Maggie could face a penalty, warning, or detention for a few days.

“Jeez Blitzo, I was just playin’,” She gave him an awkward smile before returning the snack to Darcy, punching her in the stomach. “Here you go… clumsy bitch.” She growled and went into the entrance of the academy, not before saying: “Have fun with your private clown dancer!” 

Ignoring the comment, Darcy looked at Blitzo and smiled. “Thanks for the save, Blitzy.”

"No worries," Blitzo replied, his tone lightening as he glanced at Maggie retreating into the school building. "You just gotta speak their language." He gave a mischievous smirk, then changed to a warmer, more genuine smile. "But never mind that. Happy birthday, girl!"

The two burst into delighted squeals, Blitzo twirling Darcy around in a spontaneous celebration and showering her freckles with kisses. Their joyful moment was abruptly cut off by the sharp ring of the school bell, signaling the end of their brief respite and the start of another day at the academy.

The duo walked inside and were thrust with a wind of cold air as a manner of different cryptids walked around, the hallway later opened to an atrium, numerous students walking around.

As the bell's shrill echo screamed through the halls, signaling the imminent start of classes, Blitzo grabbed Darcy's hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes. With a swift movement, he pulled her towards an empty locker, and they quickly ducked inside, the metal door shutting them away from the chaotic rush of students.

Inside the cramped, dimly lit space, Blitzo's face was inches from Darcy's, his breath warm against her cool skin. His eyes sparkled with excitement, the close quarters amplifying the intensity of the moment.

"Guess we're playing hooky on your birthday," Blitzo whispered, his voice low and playful. His hand gently brushed a strand of her flaming hair behind her ear.

Darcy's heart raced with the thrill of the moment and the proximity to Blitzo. She smiled, her eyes lighting up with affection and a hint of daring. "Best birthday gift," she murmured, reaching up to trace the contour of his cheek with her fingertips.

Blitzo leaned in closer, the small space between them charged with anticipation. "I could stay here all day," he confessed, his tone softening.

"Wouldn't that be a sight?" Darcy teased, her breath hitching slightly as she felt his lips just a breath away from hers. "The feared Blitzo and Darcy, hiding out in a locker."

"Feared, huh?" Blitzo's lips curved into a sharp-toothed smile just before he closed the distance, his kiss capturing hers in a gentle, yet impassioned embrace. The world outside the locker seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of their synchronized heartbeats and the quiet rustle of their close contact.

They began to move closer and closer together...

Darcy's fingers inched up Blitzo's tank top, revealing his chiseled chest. Her cheeks flushed: the dark side of her face glowing white and the white had her cheek going darker to a shade of ebony, and her words tangled on her tongue. She covered her face with her ears, giggling softly in disbelief. Blitzo couldn't resist; his toothy grin widened as he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear.

"What's the matter, princesa~?" he crooned, using one of Darcy's native languages (along with Hebrew/Yiddish for God & Creole/French for Alastor), used by her mother Roo, most of the time. To top it all off, he said it in a perfectly smooth accent.

His voice dripped with playful mischief. "Never seen a devilishly handsome imp before?"

Darcy stammered, peeking through her fingers as she tried to steady her voice. "Y-You're too much," she mumbled, her wings instinctively flaring up to hide her face. She resembled a Seraphim from ancient human paintings, shrouded in the elegance of her heavenly plumage. Her tail wagged a little, Blitzo did notice but was indifferent.

Blitzo laughed lowly, droplets of sweat trickling down his face and dripping onto her. He gently traced the contours of her neck, his fingers sliding down to the edge of her blouse. "Let's see how much you can handle," he murmured, slowly pulling off her shirt and revealing her glowing dual-toned skin.

Darcy's wings fluttered, and she shuddered in bliss. Her laughter was breathless and sweet as she struggled to keep her composure. "Blitzo," she gasped, unable to finish the thought, just drawing out the 'o' in the Harlequin-Pierrot's name, though that type of clown didn't exist in the circus he came from—and where they met, they had made it a reality together... when Blitz started doing performances for her in their sleepovers, clumsily tripping over his props just for her.

And her alone.

She could feel his breath against her collarbone, his touch igniting every nerve as he loomed over her, his shadow casting her in darkness. Faint red symbols and dark electric energy enveloped his aura... framing him like a halo of darkness. 

That's odd... no one could have the sort of dark and chaotic aura unless— She was cut off with a buttery voice, that sounded like a hypnotic cadence... yet, they'd never do that sort of thing, it was always an idea... but, it would be saved for later...

"And what about that authority of yours, angelic princess?" The imp's tone grew softer but no less teasing, his gaze piercing into her as he leaned in closer. "How's it feel to be at the mercy of an imp? That your kind could so easily defeat." With a firm yet careful grip, he threw Darcy down onto the cramped space, bags, and piles of paper acting as a sort of "mattress" for her, his weight pressing her down as he loomed over her, looking gigantic, almost god-like in the dim light.

Darcy writhed beneath him, her breath hitching in delight as her wings curled around his shoulders. "Blitzo," she whined, her voice thick with wanton need. Her tail wagged even more, and in an effort, she transformed her fluffy black-and-white scut (deer tail) into a long, vantablack devil's tail. This tail is distinct, extending long with seven spikes culminating in an arrowhead tip, decorated with a glowing white diamond in the center, as it coiled around Blitzo's tail.

Blitzo only chuckled, his lips brushing against her ear. "Relax, sweet little angel," he said softly. "Blitzy's got you." He leaned back, his sweat-slicked chest glistening as he gazed down at her, a playful smirk curling on his lips, bucking his hips against Darcy. "Now, let's see what you're made of, hmm?"

As they prepared for the next part, the sound of clicking heels appeared to grow louder as they stopped and did their best to try and clean themselves and put their clothes back on, spraying themselves with deodorant and Darcy's exotic perfumes, that her Father made for her, in case she wanted to attract any men or women, or BOTH!

It was Headmistress Bouvier herself, and she was in a bad mood today. She had bright yellow skin, and tall blue hair in a tall beehive hairstyle and usually wore a tube-style black funerary witch dress, ankle boots with heels, and a red pearl necklace that glowed as she walked.

A diminutive demon was spotted strolling through the deserted hall. She is a petite round white demon sporting large blueish eyes set in a yellowish sclera, a notably prominent nose, and long red hair. Additionally, she possesses two off-white buck teeth. Essentially, she appears as just a head without a body, her limbs extending directly from her head.

She saw the Headmistress, who said to her, “You should be in class, young lady!”

The diminutive demon's whimpering voice broke through the tension, echoing off the stone walls as she produced a crumpled hall pass from her side. "But Headmistwess, I have a hall pass..." Her large eyes brimmed with tears, her voice quivering with fear.

Headmistress Bouvier, however, was not swayed. Her face remained stern, and with a flick of her wrist, black inky arms erupted from a hole in the floor. The small demon shrieked as the arms tangled around her, dragging her screaming into the abyss below. The Headmistress simply snorted a disdainful "Hmph!" and continued her patrol.

Upon encountering Blitzo and Darcy, the usual strict demeanor of Headmistress Bouvier softened unexpectedly. Her voice, always hoarse-voiced, took on a surprisingly gentle tone despite its rough, rhotic accent. "Well, well, what do we have here? A little birthday celebration in a locker, eh?" Her voice carried a warmth that contrasted sharply with the scene she had just left behind.

She leaned closer, her tall blue hair almost brushing against the locker's top. "I ought to make this little escapade of yours into a movie and show it to the whole school," she teased, her voice laden with mirth rather than malice. "Imagine the hit it would be, eh?" Her smile was genuine, and it was clear she held a soft spot for these two despite their rule-breaking.

Blitzo and Darcy exchanged nervous glances, their earlier anxiety melting away under her unexpectedly kind demeanor. Blitzo managed a sheepish grin. "That'd be one blockbuster I'd rather not star in, ma'am."

Marge chuckled, the sound raspy but affectionate. "Just make sure you two keep out of trouble, at least for the rest of the day. And Darcy," she added, her tone turning tender, "Happy Birthday, dear. Make it a good one."

With that, she straightened up, her necklace glinting as she turned on her heel and strode away, leaving a trail of echoing clicks from her ankle boots as she disappeared down the hall. The sound of her laughter echoed softly back to them, a reminder of her unexpected leniency and the small joys she still found in her role.

The duo of teenagers managed to run into their classes and get ready for another day in their lives… well, at least before Blitzo had to go back to the circus to keep up appearances.

Eventually, they would pause their relationship after Blitzo had a crush on Fizzarolli, later on, but had a mutual breakup with Darcy and had always kept her and the hidden secrets of Heaven and the Omniverse a secret from then on, no one, even the one who thought they knew him dared have a clue of the secrets he held… that not even the truth gas could reveal.

~Though who is to say if these two have to stay apart for long, am I right?~

Also, which would be better in your opinion, Stoliz or this couple?

Awesome. It's better for this couple to happen.

[rist-ix]

So, I was thinking about that, in chapter 16 tbhtbhs, the chapter bloom runs away, she didn’t kill valtor because she’s kind feel something for him, or because she thought she has no chance?

Hahaha HA, tumblr user supremevaltor, you have fallen right into my trap! For you see, now I have an opening to prepare my favorite attack: analyzing my own fic!

If we jump a few paragraphs back in the very same chapter, we get to see Bloom have an existential crisis over the fact that she COULD convince herself she feels SOMETHING for Valtor, if she tried.

And this vaguest tiniest confession of not-hatred (to herself, mind you, not even to Darcy, who’s witnessing All That) has her absolutely spiraling to the point it’s physically and visibly affecting her.

By the time she gets to the library she has mostly recovered from that realization, and by recovered I mean she’s buried that shit and is politely refusing to look at it.

Now, fast forward to the library. Valtor, for the first time in almost four years, has been completely and utterly honest, is drunk and in a uniquely vulnerable position, and does not demand honesty from Bloom (which she’s struggling with) but a comforting lie (which she’s bad at, but shouldn’t be opposed to).

Betraying him at this point instead of besting him in combat does not feel good for Bloom, but she can rationalize that away pretty easily.

Now though. Now she has a problem.

For ensuring her long-term freedom and the overall safety of the dimension, she should definitely kill him here. Valtor says as much, she will never get a better chance.

Here’s where it gets complicated.

What you mentioned definitely plays a role here: she doubts her chances of success. Valtor has blindsided and overwhelmed her by feigning weakness in the past, every battle so far has gone in his favor, he always has an ace up his sleeve and so on. He’s also - desperately - trying to goad her into attacking, which to him is a way to keep her here until the handcuffs’ spell runs out, and to Bloom seems highly suspicious.

But to attempt to kill him now would also mean to be confronted with the loss of him. Which would mean reopening that Pandora’s box of “What do I feel for him”. And Bloom, due to her feeling of immense guilt and debt to her friends, cannot acknowledge that her hatred for him has softer impurities. If Valtor died, she would not only physically feel the loss of their connection, she would never hear his voice again. She prides herself on being able to predict what he’ll say sometimes, to interpret and understand him in a way no one else can. That would end, immediately.

If he died, she would lose someone whose company she’s grown so used to and familiar with. Someone - maybe the only one! - she has no fear of disappointing, who has unwavering faith in her and who she CANNOT hurt emotionally no matter how angry and violent and bitter she gets. (Because a) he definitely always deserves it, and b) he enjoys fighting verbally almost as much as he enjoys fighting physically. He already knows all the worst impulses of her, and he’s never disapproved.)

It’s a comforting thing to know and be known so fully. Losing that would be daunting, no matter the nature of their relationship.

There’s a reason I chose the library as the setting for this encounter btw. And that’s that libraries are sexy. But also, the book they read the night before is still on that table, page marked. Bloom looks at it very briefly before she runs.

Not only did they have a pleasant time and a very emotionally honest conversation here, Valtor has also surprised her. There’s a point after he realizes Bloom can’t read Domino’s language where he apologizes, and cuts himself off when he starts to look for a scapegoat. (It was Faragonda. He always blames Faragonda.)

Bloom doesn’t know that last part, but it still stood out to her that he stopped talking mid-sentence. (Valtor!!!!! Stopped talking!!!!!)

It’s a short glimpse of a Valtor who does not prioritize control of the situation over Bloom’s feelings, and allows (forces) himself to not make this a power struggle, but a moment of understanding, and connection.

(The page is marked! Symbolizing clear intent to continue! They can go back to it whenever they want, and revisit that genuine and sincere part of their relationship! Bloom looks at it and runs!)

To kill him here, face to face with what he already is to her and who he could be, is not something Bloom can stomach. And this is a Bloom who has killed better people for less, when it meant the immediate safety of her friends.

If Valtor paused long enough to examine that, which I’m undecided on whether he has, he might feel a lot better about that day.

Alas, he goes apeshit.

[shmaptainwrites]

do any of y’all have that one wip that has been a wip forever but you’re so confidently convinced it’s gonna get finished someday but whenever you touch it you write like five sentences then abandon it for three months

[amarguerite]

hello! i'm sorry for asking about something that's years old at this point, but your ever fixed mark series is my all-time favorite fic and the subject of constant rereads and monologues to friends and family, particularly the duke ending >:) i have two questions that have been burning at me since i first read it years ago, if you're open to them: 1) do kitty and georgiana ever realize their match in the duke ending, given elizabeth's break with darcy? 2) what was your vision for the plot of the AU where a happily together fitzwilliam and pascal receive the widow elizabeth darcy? i have NO idea how that would have unfolded and it's plagued me!! thank you so much for that series; the creativity, commitment, romance, worldbuilding, etc never fail to thrill me every time!

No worries I will always talk about my fic no matter how old it is! I am really delighted that it holds up to multiple rereading over the years!

1) they do, it just takes them longer and is something that they discover themselves in their late 20s instead of being clued in by helpful relatives.

2) oh that was one where pascal, unfortunately died as a result of wounds received at the Battle of Waterloo, and Colonel Fitzwilliam sold out and ended up living at Pemberley. They’d end up together after quite a lot of grief and soul-searching and the mutual realization that a soulmark generally means whatever you decide it to mean, and for them it means different people at different times in their lives.

Also, can I ask— why is the Duke ending your favorite?

[p-taryn-dactyl]

way down we go (i)

a/n: this was not requested but I couldn't for the life of me get the idea out of my head. this can be considered a dark!fic bc of the events and plot points so please read the warnings before reading! I hope y'all enjoy! also, I already have part 2 written so this is one series you don't have to wait weeks for an update, only a day 💜

word count: 1.4k

warning(s): graphic depictions of crime scene/dead body - murder - blood and gore - this isn't really a happy fic - I'm not the fondest of writing things that show serial killers in a romanticized way so this...isn't going to end well - people die in this guys - if you do not like blood or anything to do with death do not read this - even though I absolutely love forensics I am in no way an expert and all my info comes from my singular forensic class and all the forensic files I watch - this is fiction plz don't come for my inaccuracies - (reader also does profiles bc why not)

pairing(s): forensic scientist!reader x serial killer!Agatha

prompt: your relationship was picture perfect. you're happy and in love but one crime scene brings your love crashing down around you. (I'm not good at descriptions)

You knew you would never escape this feeling.

The chills that ran down your spine as you walked through the scene, the only sounds being camera shutters and shuffling footsteps of your team, the way the air was suspended around you, imitating the way you held your breath. You forced your emotions into a box and shoved it to the back of your mind, your eyes turning from sympathetic to analytical, necessary for your job. The only one who noticed the change was your Crime Scene Photographer, Darcy. She pursed her lips at you, tilting her head towards the bedroom, acknowledging your shift into your role of head CSI.

This scene was different than the others, you immediately noticed as you crossed the bedroom threshold. Blood took over the wallpaper, staining the costly vintage pattern. The body lay face down on the bed, stab marks on the back, mostly shallow and jagged, indicating a struggle had occurred. Your thoughts were proven as your eyes scanned over the blood spatter. This victim fought back, causing a fight your killer hadn't anticipated.

She was the tenth one this month, the bodies being found more and more frequently, the killer getting more confident.

"Y/N."

Your name sounded behind you, making you turn around. Lead Detective Jimmy Woo stood with a grimace on his face, eyes expectant. You nodded as you brought him over to the side of the bed, where you could see the wounds better.

"This one is different, Jim. The scene is a mess, the body mutilated and uncharacteristically stabbed, not to mention the lack of sophistication."

You turned from the bed and walked over to a pile of cleaning supplies, crouching down and cocking your head to the side. Your eyes widened when you noticed what had caught your eye. Pulling out your tweezers from your toolkit hanging by your side, you called out to Jimmy, asking for an evidence bag. As he handed it to you, he asked an important question.

"Then how can we be sure it's the same killer."

Without hesitating you answered.

"The victim fits the profile. A woman in her early to mid 50s, lives alone, estranged from family," you nodded your head to the dusty photographs on the dresser, now decorated by dried drops of blood, "and the cleaning supplies, the same ones we know for a fact were used at the other scenes."

As you bagged the strand of hair, your mind thought back to the other crime scenes. The bodies of the victims lying in bed, dead for days or weeks at the longest, the rooms cleaned meticulously, the only mess being the crusty blood stains from the single slit mark on the women's neck. You thought that those scenes were the worst, but now as you looked around, you knew you hadn't seen the worst of humanity yet.

Handing Jimmy the evidence bag, which he passed on to the officers on the scene, you stood up.

"Forensics is done here, all pictures taken, swabs done, and now all evidence is bagged. Help me roll the body over."

Your plastic gloves were already soaked with blood as you and Jimmy rolled the victim onto her back. Jimmy choked on what he saw. You merely sighed. The slit on the victims neck was jagged but shallow. The scene played out in your head. The killer did the normal business of coming from behind with the knife, but this one struggled, making the cut not deep enough to kill. The killer pushed the woman onto the bed, trying to suffocate her with the pillow but she kept struggling. Finally, the killer resorted to stabbing the woman until the act was finished, even some post-mortem. Then, instead of having time to clean the scene and position the body, something unexpected happened. Someone visited the victim, the young next door neighbor who felt sorry for the elderly woman who never saw her family. The killer had to rush out the back, leaving countless pieces of evidence behind and ruining weeks of planning.

"Let's get her in a bag, make sure to contact the family and ask for her will and wishes upon her death."

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

On the drive back to the station and your team's lab, you allowed yourself a moment to text your wife.

You: Hey hon, I don't think I'll make it for dinner. I might stay the night.

You let yourself slip information, a breach of protocol but you trusted Agatha.

We finally have enough to catch this bastard.

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

The sounds of reporters never stopped as the hours passed, your team logging and entering every piece of evidence from this scene and past. You ran every single strand of DNA evidence you had through every database you had legal access to. Monica Rambeau, your secret weapon when it came to, well, weapons, made multiple 3D replicas of the suspects height and body weight, using the angles of the blood spatter and the stab wounds. You and your team had discovered a separate blood profile in the mix, a break that had you desperate for a culprit. Now you sat in front of the equipment in your lab, the rest of your team resting while evidence was being processed and while the detective went over profiles and case reports, looking for details they might've missed.

You kept yourself from drifting into sleep by scrolling on your phone. When you opened your messages, your brow scrunched together. Agatha hadn't responded to your text, leaving it delivered. Frowning, you started typing but realizing the time, you thought she would be sleeping. Maybe you missing dinner tonight had struck a nerve with your wife. Sighing, you slumped in your chair, practicing your apology in your head. You knew it wasn't common of you to miss dinner, so maybe she had something special planned for tonight, even if it was nowhere near one of your birthdays or an anniversary. But that didn't mean anything, maybe it was a surprise date night. You were so lost in your worry, you almost didn't hear the ping from your computer indicating a match. You read the results, a hint of surprise at the determined sex of the killer. You started to type some notes in an email for Jimmy when your computer indicated it had found an 94% DNA match in a database. You paused, your hands still hovering over your keyboard as the killer's picture came up on your screen.

Time suspended around you, suffocating you as your vision tunneled. The buzzing of your phone broke you out of your stupor and with shaking hands you opened the message from your wife.

aggie❤️: no worries about dinner love, how's the case going?

Your eyes flickered from the text to the picture on your screen, your wife's cold blue eyes staring into your soul. You hesitated before you answered.

You: not well. everything came up a dead end, ig it's back to square one.

You put your phone face down on your desk, quickly exiting out of the page, your wife's picture replaced with your background. Which did nothing to sooth your rapidly panicking state, as it was your wedding photo. You slammed the power button, relief flooding your body at the black screen. With shaky hands, you cradled your head.

This can not be happening. You thought, pinching your arms, desperate to wake up from this vivid nightmare.

This

Can

Not

Be

Happening.

Your phone buzzed with your wife's reply and you read it through blurry vision.

aggie❤️: im sorry to hear that hon. text me when you're on your way home <3

Normally, the heart as the end of the text would send butterflies ablaze in your stomach but now all it did was sending waves of nausea coursing through you. Were there signs you missed? Something you overlooked through the haze of being in love?

Were all these women dead because you were too blind to see what was in front of you the whole time?

You stood up suddenly, your chair crashing behind you. Darcy rushed in, concern lacing her actions.

"Y/N, are you-"

"I have a migraine. Staring at a screen for too long and all that." You cut her off, even giving a slight chuckle at the end to play it off. Darcy still looked concerned but let you gather your things and walk out of the lab.

"If anything comes up, I'll call you!" she called out, not knowing her words caused your stomach to hardened.

As you went to walk out of the station, you noticed Jimmy had recklessly left his gun and holster on his desk.

You walked out of the station, pulling your jacket tight against your body as you got into your car.

No one had noticed Jimmy's gun was no longer on his desk.

a/n: ok I really hope y'all enjoyed this bc ive been waiting to write it for forever!! part 2 will 100% be out tomorrow bc ive already written it lol. I like writing true crime/mystery fics or fics with the same vibe so hopefully I did it well!! thank you for reading and I love all of y'all so much <3 sorry I haven't been writing that much

[starkbarnes-lovechild]

Might post this on AO3 at some point. Maybe. I feel like I need to. Lol.

Anyway, enjoy another Firstprince fic. :*

<3

Let yourself smile more. When you do, the world becomes brighter. At least mine does.

Henry bites his lower lip, trying to contain his smile despite what the note said. He can feel his cheeks warming up as he rereads the words.

He's been receiving these random notes for the past three months and the giddy feeling in his belly hasn't disappeared. Pez has been teasing him that this secret admirer may help him get over his little crush on Alex. It seemed unlikely at first but the more he receives these notes, the more hopeful he gets.

"Hey, Mr. Darcy!" Speak of the devil, Henry rolls his eyes, shoving the note into his pocket in the process. When he turns, he's bombarded with Alex's smile. His heart stutters at the sight, then mentally curses the stupid organ. How the fuck does the other teen still have this effect on him? "We're still on for Friday, right?"

"Yes, Alex. Our standing study session will still happen." He replies drily, his lips lifting on one side. In his periphery, he sees some of Alex's usual entourage frown in confusion.

"Cool. See you, Friday, Wilde." The asshole winks as he walks backward, likely on his way to lacrosse practice. Henry shakes his head in exasperation, watching as Alex and his clique turn the corner.

He pulls out the note from his pocket, smoothing out the paper. As he rereads the words, he can't help but smile at the short note.

<3

Sometimes I dream about kissing that mole on your upper lip. Is that creepy? Whatever. I love looking at those beauty marks. I want to trace them with my mouth and find out how you would react to my kisses.

Henry lays his palm on his chest, right over his widely beating heart. He's not sure if his secret admirer meant it to sound as sensual as it did but Henry's brain blue-screened. He has a lot of moles scattered all over his body and the idea of this person's mouth exploring his body is... doing things to his randy teenage brain.

He hears someone laugh and his eyes immediately find Alex, head thrown back with pure joy. The image of a faceless boy in his head turns into Alex's mischievous smirk as he explores Henry's body.

He doesn't know how he's still torn between painfully straight Alex and the secret admirer who clearly wants him.

<3

The way you tilt your chin up when you're trying to look tough makes me feel brave, too. I don't think you know just how inspiring you can be, sweetheart.

Henry can feel a sting in his eyes and he's not even sure why. His secret admirer didn't really say something that profound but at the same time, he did. Like any teen, Henry has a habit of comparing himself to his peers. Pez, his own best mate, has a way of lifting people up when they're down. Bea, when she was still attending the high school, formed a support group for teens turning to substance to cope. Alex got the lacrosse team to help prevent bullying by standing up for other people.

Henry does what he can, but he feels like he'll never leave a positive impact in the world. Knowing at least one person finds him inspiring is quite humbling.

<3

I love watching your face when you read Austen. You have the most beautiful expressions when you read about two people falling in love. Sometimes I wonder what your face will look like when you realize just how in love I am with you. PS. Meet me at the music room after class?

Henry swallows thickly, hands shaking as he rereads the note a few more times. The postscript is still the same. His secret admirer wants to meet him and Henry's not sure what he should do.

Part of him wants to meet this secret admirer after months of receiving these sweet notes. But another part of him is scared. What if he's wrong and the secret admirer is actually a girl? He knows most of the school is aware he's gay but some think they can turn him straight, while others are just painfully unaware.

But what if it's a boy and not he imagined him? What if he's disappointed his secret admirer isn't how he pictured? Does that make him shallow? He hates to admit it but even without trying, he's imagining Alex leaving him these little notes. It's a daft fantasy but he can't really help who he falls for.

The day crawls and Henry's patience is running thin. There's at least fifteen more minutes until the school day is over. It's the longest fifteen minutes of his life.

When the bell finally rings, Henry rushes out of his seat he's practically leaving dust in his wake. He knows the music room will be empty today. Clearly, his admirer knows it, too.

When he gets to the music room, the door is closed but he can hear someone strumming the guitar. He wonders if it's his secret admirer or someone else.

He takes a deep, fortifying breath and slowly releases it. When he enters, he doesn't immediately see who's occupying the room. The click of the door shutting behind him sounds loud in the sudden silence.

Henry doesn't move, just leans down against the closed door in case the other room occupant is not his secret admirer. He can hear the clock ticking, counting along with it; eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. When he reaches thirteen, Alex's timid voice makes him flinch, "Hi."

"I'm supposed to meet someone here," Henry doesn't dare hope that Alex is the someone he's supposed to meet. It's simply not possible that the boy he's been halfway in love with may feel the same. But then Alex stands and makes his way to him, his brows raised in surprise. Henry can feel his heart pounding in his chest and he wonders if Alex can hear his heartbeat.

"Yeah," the other boy enunciates slowly, "me. You were meeting me."

"But..." Henry tries to grasp at words that would make a coherent sentence. "You're straight?"

"Henry," Alex says with exasperation. The smile on his face softens the blow, though. "I dated Liam for like, a month, maybe a bit longer." He's sure the younger boy is laughing at him.

"Oh." He certainly never knew that. "When?" His voice is hesitant, uncertain. He truly does not remember Alex and Liam ever dating. It had always been Liam and Spencer.

Alex's lips twitch, as if he's fighting a smile, "Fall of freshman year. We broke up because we both realized we wanted someone else."

Alex is now standing in front of him, just a foot or so of distance between them. If he raises his arm, he can take hold of the shorter man's waist. If wants, he can pull Alex into his arms and give in to the desire to kiss the other boy.

Then again, Alex is Alex and beats him to the punch.

Alex cups Henry's face, his touch is so gentle yet firm. He nuzzles the other boy's palm, swaying forward. It's hard not to get pulled in by Alex's gravity.

Henry sees the question in those brown orbs. He looks down at Alex's lips, then back to his eyes. A silent request.

When their lips finally meet, Henry finally understands what people mean when their world narrows down to a single person.

<3

Got my acceptance letter from NYU. We're moving to New York, baby! -XOXO Alex

[tailsbeth-writes]

Thanks for the tags @onthewaytosomewhere @firenati0n @taste-thewaste & @heysweetheart-writes! Posting a day late cause I spent all day yesterday at a spa, I feel brand new.

Here's some more of the bigender Alex fic:

‘You look wonderful darling.’ Henry stands behind Alex, sitting his chin on Alex’s shoulder and curling his hands around Alex’s waist. Alex places his hands on top of Henry’s. His lips curl up, revealing the adorable dimples that Henry loves so much.  ‘I’m guessing we’re post-book Lizzie and Darcy then, you know when you’ve quit being such an asshole?’ Alex asks, giddy when Henry rolls his eyes at him via the mirror. Henry kisses just below Alex’s ear, pressing his lips further down his neck. Alex’s eyes flutter when he feels Henry suck what is bound to be a rather visible mark into his skin. ‘Are we decent?’ The familiar tones of Percy call from the doorway. Alex and Henry groan in unison as they tell him to come in. He’s decked out in an outfit identical to Mercutio’s drag costume in Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo and Juliet. Knowing Percy, it likely is the same costume. 

Open tag since I'm posting late 💛