transform my heart into a tunnel over you
there is no line between what you do and who you are. to love what you do is to love you, and oh, is this love? you've never been loved before, barely even liked or held in any positive regard at all. you fall hard for this loving person you found inside you.
peter/alice or peter & alice (ymmv) minidoodle of a fic. precanon parasocial meetcute.
theoretically, it needn't be a surprise. you could count each tick of your clock, one, two, three, between each time it happens, and know for sure. but the others insist on keeping you a busy rabbit, and so your count is always getting broken and it remains a joyful surprise each time when you feel it. that's what it is, it takes you a few repeats to put a word to the sensation of it blooming through your chest, joy.
so you continue letting it catch you unawares, ducking out of gunfire and leaving papers unfinished when you feel it.
the overlap, the moment when she enters inside you- everyone on the Outside passes through you, of course, that comes with the role same as paperwork and assassinations, but not like this. you don't pay attention to just anyone, you dont savor the weight of everyone's footsteps falling second by second, just hers. the sounds spoken that echo inside you, such as-
"I love this part of the day."
love! love, this mysterious Outsider said it plain as day in the garden under a tree that she loves you, forever having been spoken between 3:00 and 3:59, curses on whichever of the others were blessed with the final syllable of "oh, it's getting la-", those foul, dirty people don't appreciate it, don't deserve it.
"No, I'm not missing out on anything," she reassures her sister another time. "This is my favorite time of the week," sweet on your tongue, warm throughout your body. you're her favorite.
given to you is her name, Alice Liddell, and her sister's name, lorina, only important as far as she is important to Alice. given to you is discussion of several books, only mattering if Alice liked them. The odd interloper, a younger sister sometimes, occasionally a man not at all worth the looks Alice gives him and the furtive handholding, hushed debates on whether there's time for a kiss while the sister goes inside to bring out a snack or a deck of cards or a board game. inside you, sitting heavy like a greasy meal, is the end of that relationship, Alice Liddell wiping her tears before her sister can see, wiping her hand on the grass at 3:25 according to her watch, at 3:26 laughing shakily at a small bunny hopping through the yard and grazing on the grass, greedily tasting her tears on your actual tongue in addition to digesting them directly into the hour. so this is heartbreak. you wouldn't make her cry like that.
sometimes she's in you but she isn't yours, another new feeling you're learning, a bitterness. you hadn't realized it wouldn't be enough just to be together until you felt the frustration of her attention divided, turned away from talking about how much she loves (loves, in her own words!) you, how nice the weather is or how glad she is to be safe at home when it isn't. occasionally her shine is dulled under the costume of a student, or more often in simple clothes in what looks like an office somewhere, answering phones, carrying heavy boxes and unpacking them onto shelves. scribbling with a red pen on stacks of paper, and-
oh! she's drawn a rabbit! you should never have doubted where her thoughts were, just because she was given roles to play doesn't mean her love has dimmed! don't be a hypocrite, you tell yourself, you have your own work to do as well, but it doesn't mean she isn't always on your mind.
she must know you're watching. she must have felt the embrace of the hour she's in and wrote her love letter to you deliberately, where you could see it. some guy looks over her shoulder, (disgusting, say the word my beloved i'll kill him), to tell her she's "a good drawer", which she modestly denies. you savor it, the time- 3:52 according to the clock on her wall- wrapped fiercely around her. you hug her tight as long as you possibly can, until the minute hand points straight upwards and hour hand fully hits the 4. her drawing of you is burned into your eyes even after she has slipped away.
unlike yourselves, outsiders change. uncontrollably, even. you've peeked ahead- you know how it will end. the sparkle in her eyes dulled as she sits alone under the tree. her sister no longer joins her. you duck back into the safety of the happy times, but you know there are only so many of them left.
you wish she would tell you what's wrong. it's making your stomach twist- it's scaring you, you put a name to the feeling, you are worried for her.
"she wants you."
that's nightmare's report back from checking things out in his own time, and you can barely understand the meaning of the words, you're so jealous. not just her life but her thoughts are known to him, what you'd give for that, if you didn't need him you'd kill him right here-
"hey, hey, if anyone should be jealous here it's me! she's crying out for you, remember."
"she is?"
"not on the outside. but in her heart. for the golden afternoons, the time spent with her sister inside you."
she wants you. she misses you. she's embarassed to tell you directly but she wants you.
down the hole you go, taking her deeper and deeper inside you. the hole like a mouth, swallowing her up, so that no matter the time period now you will always feel her weight within the bounds of a beautiful sunday afternoon, gently pressing in on her as she tries to expand outward, remember, catch up to her proper time. it's not her fault, of course, you're the ones bending her into an unnatural shape, she'll struggle until she sets.
as for actually putting your mouth on her- it's the only way!! well, that's...
no time to reflect on how that feels. your darling angel has punched you in the face.
NOTES:
written around the core concept of "is being inside a roleholders hour like they vored you? (or maybe its mroe of a womb thing...?)" , ive definitely strayed from that here but that's quite alright.
sorry if peter pov like is too freaky or something lol. i think i kind of held it a bit restrained pulledback but still.
i hope i got across that its peters (nonliteral) first day being alive and hes figuring out what emotions are as he goes. he also does not actually grasp 'age', 'growth', or 'life stages', understanding alice to be occasionally filling the role of a student or a worker as opposed to like..... she was literally in school and had a job. he doesn't get it.
it's up to you whether alice actually meant what she said verbally about loving the time spent with lorina or if it was just to make her happy, or if perhaps it was a Secret Third Thing. usually in a fantasy setting with a sort of emotional bodydissociation kind of thing id go hard on the emotional mindmeld but with peter (and all roleholders except nightmare) i think its actually completely opaque to him- he has NO idea about her inner world, only what he can interpret from her actions, expressions, and speech. he certainly didn't understand at first that in the frilly dress with lorina was not where she felt most 'herself'. he also of course has no concept of 'peter white' being seen by an outsider as a different entity than 'the white rabbit' and '3:00'.
okay im back. forgot 2 hit post. weighing "odd little world, arbitrary days" vs the title i currently have and in the process from being on dylan kanner's bandcamp page watching jonni phillips' secrets and lies in a town of sinners s1 in its entirely save for the barber westchester movie. anyway. the title is from blood from the concrete by the scary jokes, which i think peter sees as him to alice but alice would be horrified if she knew he saw their relationship in that way.
anyway so this is just a little doodle of a fic. happy new years!
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Now for sweet things 😂🥰
I’d like a Samoyed, a cockapoo or a minidoodle. A baby with hair as curly and fluffy as mine lol!
And I really want a hybrid, and like the Honda Accord and Rav4 ☺️
I love finding out that you're a curly girl!
Ugh, Samoyeds are soooo beautiful. My husband has "dog allergies" (so he claims though I've never been entirely convinced 😂) so we've stuck with the Doodle breeds as he's not suffered side effects. But I would have loved one or those big white fluff balls.
Honda and Toyota. Excellent options and safe. We must keep you safe! ❤️
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