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charles-leclerizz · 3 months

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🏎️ ๋࣭ ⭑ peaches

🏁 Pairings : Lando Norris X fem! Reader

🏁 Warnings : none! just fluffy times

🏁 Word Count : 4.0k words (4070 words)

🏁 Author's note : This is probably the most chaotic thing i have ever written, so I hope you can make sense of it (hope being the key word) Make sure to lilke and reblog (anything is appreciated, but comments and reblogs fuel this sad little writer). The word dividers this time are also from @plum98!

🏁 Music player : This will be by Natalie Cole

“God he’s hopeless.” Oscar observed his entranced teammate stumble over his words from beneath the shade of the umbrella set up to the side of the filming area. Having finished his own media duties, he was now watching, unimpressed, as his friend attempted to use his remaining two braincells to blubber at you, like a fish out of water.

To be fair, you were also blubbering, your cheeks were red and hands shaking as you sorted through the white, glossy cue cards that had the signature McLaren logo printed on the back. You shuffled the cards mindlessly, humming under your breath after the third question was answered and Lando had maintained eye-contact with you for a minute too long, staring into the depths of your irises when the last syllable had left his lips causing your heart to stutter at a pace that had to be confirmed as medically concerning.

“U-um, right, okay so.” You attempted for the sixth time, your fingers finally finding purchase on a new piece of cardstock that contained the fourth question printed on one side in large, sans-serif font.

“Ehm-“ You cleared your throat, flipping a piece of hair over your shoulder as you looked back up at the driver who sat in front of you, enthralled by the minute movements you made. Like the arch of your brow, the dip of your lip and the curve of your collarbone that lay exposed, thanks to the strapless, silk corset you had opted to wear.

“Right, the fans want to know Lando. Who’s your favourite thing to eat?” You said with. Pseudo-confidence, oblivious to your mistake.

Lando’s eyes widened as a few chuckles bristled around the small crowd of camera technicians and other personnel that filled the McLaren media pen “Excuse me?”

“Huh-“ You blink a few times, “Oh shit- no.” You begin to wave your hands in front of your burning face, “I meant, what. What is your favourite snack, or meal to eat before a race?” You blurt out the correction.

“Oh- oh thank God. I don’t think I would have been able to say that.” Lando chuckles, despite the rogue blush that had spread from his neck to his ears, “Normally, I like to have snickers?” He offers, “Especially before a race, it’s a tradition. My dad used to buy them for me, during my karting days” Lando smiles at you, bracing his elbows on the arm rests of his seat whilst tilting his head boyishly.

You go silent for a few minutes, staring at him as your mouth opens and closes uselessly, your mind was fuzzy, and you could swear that you could hear the blood rushing past your ears.

With a heart beating wildly you plaster on a dazzling smile, “Watch the stock prices shoot up.” You joke, focusing on his shirt instead of his face, to protect yourself from his irresistible gaze, “Well Lando, I wish you the best for the race, here in Singapore later in the week.” You lift your eyes from the very interesting speck of dust on the front of his McLaren jersey to meet his hazel eyes, “On behalf of the entire Sky sports team, of course, not just me, that would be weird-“

He cocks his head at your rambling, huffing out an amused laugh, “Thank you,” he returns, as if your well-wishes were probably the only thing that made him want to participate in the race.

But that’s ridiculous, right?

The media segment had finally ended, having collected enough material for the next week in Singapore and you were thankful for it.

The few hours that you had been interacting with the driving duo was excruciating, not only from the sweltering afternoon that you found yourselves in, but also the fact that Lando was always in your line of sight, laughing at something that Oscar had said or screeching hysterically over the periscope goggles that he was struggling with. He was always there.

Some may say that it was “your job” but frankly you found it insulting. Because he wouldn’t let you do your job, you were either blushing too hard, sweating too much or your heart was about to end your existence with its erratic beating.

“I’m just glad it’s over” You pout to May, your producer. She was sweet and imaginative, always carrying around a leatherbound, flowery notepad to scribble new and creative ideas for interview styles to attempt with the 5-year-old men that you were tasked with interacting with.

“It wasn’t that bad” She comforted you, handing over a chilled water bottle whilst an on-set assistant dabbed at your forehead with a damp towel, “I honestly thought that you were having a heart attack, couldn’t even tell that you liked him.”

“She’s right y’know” A third voice burst into the conversation suddenly, which caused you to jump and clamp your hand down on the half open water bottle, sending the cool jet of water straight up the man’s nose.

“Oscar!” May shouted, holding a hand over her daisy detailed blouse with shock as she signalled to another assistant to grab a towel for the driver, who was currently holding his nostrils and attempting to plunge out the of water that had lodged itself up his nose.

“I’m fine,” He snorted whilst dripping onto the sizzling concrete and dabbing the cloth on his face, “For the record, I was worried for your health halfway through that painting task. But that was before I noticed you drooling over Lando.”

You groaned, running both hands up your face to your hairline before threading your fingers through your scalp and pressing the strands away from your forehead, “It’s not fair,” you whined, “He was distracting me throughout the whole thing. I probably look like a mess on camera,” You press the pads of your fingers against your temples.

The whole ordeal made you want to cry, or vomit perhaps both? It was hellish having to endure him staring into your soul the entire interview segment and endearingly answer all your questions with unnecessary detail.

What a jerk.

“Nah, you looked good.” A fourth voice popped in. And much like Oscar’s intrusion, it made you jump, but instead of squeezing your bottle and waterboarding the person, you shrieked and swung, as hard as you could towards the source. Making impact with the side of their face.

A very familiar face which had whipped around like a grape on a toothpick. A face that emitted a groan whilst a hand came up to soothe the quickly forming bruise.

“Fuck me” You groaned, bending over to help Lando who was still checking for any blood that may be leaking from the side of his face.

“Well, I would be honoured, but I think you did permanent damage,” He joked, standing to his full height whilst you brought your hand up to tap the purple-ish skin with a light, albeit panicked hand.

“Oh Lando,” you hissed when he clenched his teeth as you pressed against his cheek, “I’m so sorry.” You whispered on instinct, continuing to stroke the skin whilst May came up to the two of you, having recovered from the shock of you assaulting Lando and rushed to procure a bruising ointment.

You turned around quickly, thanking your friend as she handed of the white tube into your palm, not noticing that half of your hair had slapped the man in front of you in the face, “Oh come on,” you heard him garble through the clumps of hair that had made its way into his mouth.

“Shit, sorry,” You apologise for the umpteenth time in the few hours that you had spent in the close vicinity of him, “I can’t get it together for some reason.” You offer the dull explanation whilst stepping closer with a thick strip of the ointment spread between your fingers.

“Yeah” He murmured, eyes more focussed on your concentrated expression that was barely millimetres away from him, “I can tell.” His breath tickled your ear as you stood on your tiptoes and rubbed the ointment onto his face, it made you blush and realise how close your faces were. How easily you could turn your neck and graze your lips against his, or bump your noses together like a sweet, long-term couple who were used to your clumsiness.

Fat chance

You stepped back, taking one of the discarded towels from the table to the left of the pair of you, “I’m so sorry again,” you apologised, wiping away the remaining cream from your hand and moved to pick up your purse from the surface next to you.

“You could make it up to me?” He offered, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking on the balls of his feet.

You cock your head, removing the hand that was rooting around in your purse- searching for your phone and let it hand limp “How?”

“What are you doing today?”

“Nothing much,” you offered, shrugging, “Not my first time in Singapore, I’ve been working with F1 for a year. Just wanted to hit some stores that I didn’t get to last time.”

It was true, last year was your first year and like the dedicated rookie you were, you holed yourself up in your room doing pre-liminary research for the upcoming days on all things related to the Singapore track along with the prestigious millionaire drivers that came attached. This was despite the long list of high-end stores, cute cafes and boutiques that you had made in your apartment back home, before the season began.

Luckily, you had managed to hit one or two of them up before the next race. But there were many remaining which you were desperate to visit.

“Let me take you out then,” His eyes glittered with enthusiasm as he unpocketed one of his hands and reached towards yours, brushing against your soft knuckles and running down the divots of your hand before dropping to his side, “Anywhere you want.” He promised.

“I have a long list Lando, and you have a race, or have you forgotten?” You tease him despite your barely inflated lungs and dry, anticipatory throat.

“Haven’t forgotten,” He argues, “I don’t have to-“ His breathe hitched as he watched you reach out to intertwine your fingers with his, gently as if your movements were a fleeting butterfly and could easily be lost as such, “Don’t have to be training the whole day- just give me your number and text me the places you want to go?”

“Okay,” You settled, keeping your pinkie fingers locked together as you stepped impossibly closer to him and handed him your card, a small glossy cardstock with the sky sports logo printed on one side whilst on the other had your name, number and “Formula 1 presenter and interviewer” centre-aligned in black font.

“Cute,” He flipped the card over in his free hand before looking up from the paper and into your eyes, bouncing his pupils over your entire face as though he was memorising each feature up close and personal, “I’ll see you later.”

You nod, biting your lip as your stand on your toes again and press your glossy lips against the scruff of his cheek, “I hope so.”

You had handed off your contact details to Lando on Tuesday. Throughout the passing days, you both had texted each other constantly, any free treasured minutes in your schedule would be spent chatting with the other. It was now Thursday and still he had not brought up the date.

The “not-date”

Thankfully, you had managed to check off nearly half of your destinations on your list and the bags in your hotel room were evidence of such. Odd, thick shopping bags that were brightly coloured and bent in ways that could merely hint at their high-fashion origins, had taken over the bedroom, slowly pilling up by the dozen.

You stumbled out of the sleek, metallic elevator and winced with each step you took through the 20th floor foyer and down the corridor, each light-wood slab of the miscellaneous rooms had been allotted a cluster of numbers that morphed together in your tired eyes. It had been nearly four hours of running around, collecting information and small video snippets from all the teams as the entire PR team was rushing to put out the last round of pre-race content.

Your stiletto heels clicked to a stop when you finally reached your door, the electronic card reader waiting patiently for you to tap the key on its matte black surface. You rooted around in your purse, holding it open with one hand as you searched for the damn card, fearing that you may need to bother the sweet receptionist for another duplicate key.

Whilst looking around in your seemingly endless bag, your phone vibrated once...twice...thrice.

You unsheathed the device and clicked on the notification that popped up on your lock screen. Lando. He had left a small string of messages that made your heart flutter as though cupid had just struck you.

You looked pretty today.

Not that I was stalking you- I saw you when you came to garage.

I’m free for the rest of the day, can I take you out?

On a date. If you want.

You smiled to yourself, reading the messages repeatedly, imprinting them in your mind as you felt your blood swim through your arteries and blossom a deep red blush across your cheeks.

“Is it possible for someone to be this beautiful?” A familiar British accent sneaked up behind you, caressing the skin behind your ears as a minty fresh breath followed suit.

“I don’t know, maybe you should ask yourself.” You teased, turning on your heel to rest your back against the door, to face the handsome man that was currently grinning down at you. You clutched your phone to your chest, soothing the fluttering butterflies that escaped your stomach to scuttle throughout your body, suddenly, you weren’t very tired anymore.

“I would rather ask you,” He smirked, reaching to tuck away a rogue piece of hair that had escaped from your ponytail, his finger lingered on your nape, allowing his entire hand to cup the back of your neck and ghost the pads of his fingers across the expanse of your skin.

“Hi Lando,” You smile at him, leaning into his touch.

“Hey.” He whispered, more focused on analysing the tantalising swoop of your eyelashes and sleek slant of your nose. As one does.

“You ready to go?” he tilted his head at you.

“Well, I have an idea about where I want to go with you, I just need to change and re-do my makeup.”

“Okay, you want me to wait out here?” He offered, watching you as you brought your purse between your bodies, flitting through the mess within to finally, triumphantly present the room key. He giggled at the victorious squeal that escaped your lips as you brushed the card against the reader and skipped into the room.

“No, it’s fine. You can come in, just don’t judge the amount of shopping.” You warned him, already cautiously stepping over the French boutique bags that greeted you.

“It would be hard to fit my judgement into the room, there’s so much stuff,” He commented beginning to pick up various bags and place them onto any free surface as an attempt to clear the walkway.

“Ha Ha,” You laughed sarcastically, twisting your neck to stick your tongue out at him, “Let me find something to wear,” You bent down, searching through the few bags that sat on the bay window sofa.

“Do you have the directions to the place?” Lando inquired, watching you with interest as you held a small, teal bag over your head and went over to the other side of the room to search for shoes.

“Yeah, it’s a frozen yoghurt cafe, 0 sugar and vegan, I figured it will be good for you. Since you’re on a strict diet.” You shrugged, unaware of his touched expression. He was enamoured with you from the first time that you had sat down in front of him, stuttering over your questions despite your once cool, calm demeanour with his teammate. But the fact that you had considered his diet requirements was like the cherry on top.

“Oh- you didn’t have to. I could always break away from the diet.” He half expected you to jump at the opportunity to go someplace else.

“No no, it’s fine. I heard such great things about this cafe. I’m excited. Plus, I would’ve gone with or without you,” You snickered, walking towards his place, perched on the edge of your freshly made bed. Apparently, room service had conveniently avoided your shopping but had happily tackled the other features of the area.

“If you say so,” He relented bundling the soft comforter in his fists to stop himself from looping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him. Luckily, you rested your arms on his shoulders and intertwined your fingers together at the start of his spine, burying them in his hair and twisting the curly strands with one digit.

“I do say so,” You nodded your head sharply, before retracting your arms and began to walk towards the bathroom, “Be right back,” you promised, slinking through the washroom door.

You pushed the sliding slab shut and flicked on the warm yellow light before pulling out the compact package of tissue paper, held together with a white, cream silk bow.

The paper crinkled loudly as you undid the ribbon to reveal the milky white dress that lay nestled within the packaging. A long, floor length number that contained embroidered butterflies on the final organza layer, layered on top of a chiffon slip with a middle veneer of muslin. The empress waist had folded over fabric that sinched in the silhouette along with emphasising the carmen neckline that sat sultry with the help of thin, pearly straps.

You slipped on the elegant dress, smoothing over the divoted attire whilst pulling and pushing at the material until you were satisfied. Your hair flowed freely along your back as you leaned forward towards the mirror, touching up your concealer and swiping generous amounts of your glossy, lip balm before slipping on a pair of black, matte kitten heels.

Finally, you were ready.

The door squeaked open as you stepped out, short heels clicking on the marble floor as you stopped around the bend of the wall, calling out for him, “Lando?”

He turns towards your voice curiously, floppy brown hair bouncing with his movements, “Yeah?” He answers, standing up and pocketing his phone.

“I’m ready,” You reveal yourself to his gaze, smiling happily when his mouth pops open and eyes widen substantially.

“Wow, you look amazing.” His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your outfit, biting his lip whilst walking towards you, “Glad I asked you out when I did, otherwise I would be in trouble.”

“Yes, you are quite lucky,” You agree, patting his chest as you adjust the collar of his shirt, “Let’s go?” You offer, hooking your arm with his by the elbow.

He looks down momentarily before smiling toothily, “Let’s” He nods and opens the door.

Lando held the large cup of frozen yogurt in his palm, itching to dig the small plastic spoon into the tall peak of cold, white cream that was covered in melted dark chocolate, “You got the photo?”

“Yes, sorry,“ You tuck your phone back into the inefficiently small purse that hung from your shoulder, “You taste it first, I feel like you’ll burst if you don’t” you chuckle at his expression as he fills the spoon with the cold dessert and places it in his mouth, he groans pleasurably as his eyes roll back.

“Holy shit that’s good.” He compliments, holding out the paper cup to you.

“I would hope so, looks like you just orgasmed,” You take your own plastic spoon and taste the treat, “Never mind, your reaction is valid, it’s so good.” You hum.

“I know right?” He continues to eat, keeping his right hand steady as he shuffles around you from your left to the other side, so that his free hand could intertwine with yours.

“I could’ve just moved?” You giggle, swinging your hands up and down as you lean to take another bite.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” He shrugged, licking his spoon free of the remaining frozen yogurt as you continued down the street and across the street towards Pearl Hill Park.

You both continued to chat animatedly, taking bites of the sweet yogurt between the two of you as you enter the park and walk down the foot path, admiring the large canopying trees and delicate flower’s that littered the shrubbery which lined the walkway.

“You’ve never had a boyfriend?” Lando clarifies, his eyes bugging out with shock.

“I mean, guys have liked me, and I’ve had crushes. But boyfriend? Never had anyone that serious,” You confirm, unbothered with his reaction.

“How?”

“I don’t know! I never asked and I never have got asked,” You defend your single status.

Lando nods, squeezing your hand in his as he kicks a small pebble beneath his feet, “But you’re so beautiful.” He murmurs penultimately beneath his breath.

“What?”

“What?” He looks at you, surprised that you heard him.

“Nothing,” You dismiss, your chest warming with the compliment, the sensation made you giggle to yourself and press your lips together.

The skin of your lips seemed dry against one another, causing you to stop walking, pausing the lazy travel around the man-made lake that you both were taking and remove a tube of flavoured lip balm from your purse. Lando pauses, watching you press the tube of the glossy moisturiser and lay a generous amount on your lips before twisting the top back on and dropping it back in your bag.

“What flavour is that? It’s so bright.” He snorts at the light pink coating that covers your mouth.

“Oh, is it too much?” You go to remove your compact mirror before you feel Lando hold your wrists gently, stopping you.

“No, you look perfect,” He assures you, softly laying his thumb beneath the swell of your lip and pulling the skin down slowly, “I was just curious of the flavour.” He muses, supressing a grin at your dazed expression as you fight away the feeling of your eyelashes fluttering closed in anticipation for his lips on yours.

“Um..I think it’s peach?” You offer.

“Really?” He snorts, moving his face closer to yours, analysing your face for inhibitions towards his actions, only to be met with your rouge ears and innocent doe eyes looking at him, “Let me try,” He whispers, finally bringing his face closer to yours, allowing his breath to fan over your slightly parted lips. You finally connect your mouth together, one of your hands loops around his neck whilst the other hold his wrist as you savour the sweet taste of his lips against yours.

It was as though the blossoms that surrounded the two of you had begun to bloom within your mind, bursting with new life and innocence as the water rippled in the summer sun, casting glowing streaks against your faces like crystalline diamonds shimmering beneath a spotlight. This moment seemed to paint itself on the canvas of your mind, permanently memorised to never be forgotten.

Lando pulls away all too soon, resting his forehead against yours, “I can agree-“ He pants, “That it tastes like peach” he pulls away minutely to grin at you.

You grin back, licking your lips slowly, “Yeah, I guess it does.” You agree, pressing your mouths together again, desperate for the sacred dopamine that he filled you with. He smiled against your lips before you became conscience of your surrounds and broke apart. His eyebrows furrowed but nevertheless he caressed your cheek, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin beneath his finger.

Lando stepped back, taking your hand in his again to resume the slow, lazy steps around the lake, “You’ll watch that race then? From the garage?” He asked hopefully, looking down at you from your position on his shoulder.

“Peach?” He called out.

Your heart grew three times bigger at the nickname as you lifted your head from his body and looked at him earnestly, “Of course, I’ll be there in the orange.”

📻 Kcccchh.... come in.... come in...translatiion unavailable...over

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coxxxmo · 4 months

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𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

[0] 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗟𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿

Masterlist

Dear Future Husband,

To you who has taken away my solitude through the storms in your eyes, to you who has taken over all of my living dreams,your gaze is a tempest that renders my world beautifully chaotic - I hope this letter finds its way to you dearest one.

Tell me, is there a new envoy in your company? Passing my messages to you? Does the moon whisper to you the musings I’ve shared about you? Has it told you of my deepest desires? In the quiet of the night, lately I have been finding solace in the company of the moon. I’ve been telling it all about you - your beautiful smile that makes my heart stop, your laughter that resonates like a melody in my mind, your eyes that stir something unknown deep within me, your voice that echoes within me and the heaven knows, I just can’t seem to get you out of my head.

Like the faceless man in my dreams, you have been haunting me; You have been haunting me with your whirlpool of existence which is sure to stir up my entire world if I get too close.

But Isn't it romantic that, beneath the vast expanse of the same sky, we share a celestial connection? As we both look upon the stars that decorate the night sky, the same moon that graces your night sky also bathes mine in its gentle glow, creating a luminous thread that connects both of us.

I’ll be honest; I’m not exactly sure how this love letter thing works, but all I know is that I can’t stop thinking about kissing you. Archons, I crave you, and I crave your touch. The idea of us kissing feels like a storm inside me, and I can't help but want you close to myself.

When I think about holding your hand and drawing little patterns with our fingers, it feels like magic. There's something pulling me towards you, and it's stronger than anything else. These feelings feel new to me and I'm still figuring them out like getting lost in a maze. Even then my heart always seems to point toward you, and each day, that pull becomes even stronger.

With each word, I'm sharing a part of my heart. As I fold this letter and seal it with a kiss, it holds not just my words but the promise of the future yet you come. Until our paths cross, and until the day I can call you mine. I send this letter off to the unknown, leaving it at the hands of the fates weaving our story.

Yours Lovingly.

⤷ Synopsis :

In a world dominated by algorithms and measured affections, where love is dissected as a complex equation, Will the pursuit of love transcend the boundaries of logic? Can the heart, guided by a mere letter, lead to a connection that defies reason?

Are you willing to take the journey where the lines between reason and romance blur? Will you be drawn into a completely different world, or will your story continue along its familiar course?

But above all, the burning question remains: whose doorstep will become the final destination for this seemingly innocuous letter?

Modern!au

⤷ pairing : genshin men x reader

⤷ taglist : @sako-mii @oni-girx @chevcore @moonlybxbe @rachoka @sangoqueenkoko @veekoko

⤷ a/n : AHHHHH IM DONE WRITING THE LETTER AFTER AGES. It was harder than it seemed I'll be honest....BUT now that the story starts It'll be much more fun, trust me. Hoping that the other parts are more regular..

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

Lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!!

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yuna542 · 11 months

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[3]<-

[4]

›Bad Idea<

Pairing: Hong Woojin × Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Enemies with benefits to Lovers

Warnings: 18+, explicit Smut, under 18 DNI!, Fem!Reader, suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names,, hate sex, ANGST, overstimulation, thigh riding

Word Count: 8.5k

Note: That’s the last Part of a Story that I really enjoyed writing. No worries I‘m already working on another Story about Bloodhounds. The chokehold these guys have on me is unreal… Hope you liked the Story. Comments, Likes and Reblogs are always a blessing. Stay healthy and much love! ~Sky

Summary: As Gunwoo‘s little sister he wanted you to finally meet his best friend. Unfortunately you don't get along. He gets on your nerves, you fight all the time and yet you can't stop messing with each other. One evening you get into a dangerous situation and end up bruised and bloody at his apartment. And you suddenly have to ask yourself: Why do you feel so attracted to that idiot?

Chapter 7:

The Secret

The very next evening you were waiting in front of his apartment and when he saw you there, he frowned.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, and you braced yourself from the wall you had been leaning against.

"I'm bored," you said monotonously, and his gaze was already glued to the hem of your short skirt.

"So what?"

"Wanna fuck?"

"Sure."

Already you stumbled into his apartment, ripped the clothes from each other and between heated kisses and greedy touches, you threw aside your cell phone where Gunwoo tried to call.

A few hours later you came moaning on top of him as you rode his dick. As he painted your walls white with a hand around your neck, pressing you onto his throbbing dick, you climbed off of him and snuggled up to him.

"You know..fucking you almost made me reconsider whether i hate you or not," he said, pulling you into his arms and leaning his chin into the crook of your neck as he stroked his fingers over your bare stomach.

"Oh really? What's the verdict?" you asked, wiggling even closer to his chest. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and his hair tickled your neck as he did so, making you giggle.

"Hmm..nope not even a little less."

A little offended, you turned around so you could face him. You pouted and stroked your fingers down his chest.

"Not even a little? Let's see if we can change that... Round two?"

Your suggestive smile and the way you raised an eyebrow made him smirk. The warmth in his eyes enveloped you and you never wanted to get out of his bed again if he stayed here with you.

"If you're asking me that naked and all sexy, I don't think I can resist," he replied charmingly, stroking the contours of your face as if it were an expensive sculpture he couldn't get enough of.

You winced with a chuckle as he pinched your side and pulled you closer again. Your lips collided and you kissed him until you couldn't breathe.

That's exactly how it went every time.

You were still a trio. You Gunwoo's annoying little sister and Woojin the chaotic good-for-nothing best friend. You argued, pounced at each other and never missed an opportunity to show that you didn't like each other.

But as soon as you were alone, you leaped upon each other.

The fact that your meetings were a secret between you made it even more exciting.

You slept together all the time. The smallest arguments made you tear off your clothes and throw yourselves on each other, fucking in heat and with no hesitation. It was the best sex you ever had and you were actually happy when you were with him.

However, it didn't go unnoticed for long. It started one night when Gunwoo was looking for a movie in Woojin's room to borrow from him and instead pulled out your black lace bra from between his pillows. That combined with the scratch marks that were increasingly reflected on Woojin's back, and was mockingly acknowledged by his training partners, Gunwoo put one and one together.

"Who is it? Who is this girl? Are you together?"

He had been bugging Woojin until he admitted that there was indeed someone. However, he would die before he told him that it was his sister.

"So like... Do you like her or something?", he asked out of nowhere a few months later as he helped Woojin train. He held the punching bag and looked at his friend, who froze in motion.

"Why would you think that? How could you think that?" asked Woojin, the sweat on his forehead doubling.

"Because you keep daydreaming and you barely have time outside of training... You must spend a lot of time with her," he said and Woojin shook his head as he punched a little stronger than necessary.

"We're just fucking. Nothing special. I don't even like her, actually."

Gunwoo had nodded, wanting to let the subject go. After all, he didn't understand it anyway. Woojin was so secretive that he didn't want to bug him further. Still, Woojin kept talking, between strained gasps as he punched the punching bag:

"I don't know. Really. This has been going on for a while now. The sex is incredible, but she keeps driving me crazy. We can't be in the same room without me getting restless and my heart jumping out of my chest."

The younger one pressed his lips together and tried to stifle a knowing smile. Later, as they sat together on the rooftop, winding down the day with protein shakes and fresh dumplings, Woojin said:

"I think I have come to a conclusion".

Gunwoo looked at him and asked with his mouth full, "Which is?"

"I am allergic to her"

He snorted in disbelief and choked on his shake.

"Wait... what?" escaped him between gasps and coughs.

But Woojin just nodded insistently, "I am allergic to her..."

It was almost like being in a bad romance movie. You couldn't be with or without each other. Endless arguments over the stupidest things every day, that ended with the most amazing sex every night. One minute you were ready to kill each other and the next you were sneaking off to have sex.

No matter when and no matter where.

You were addicted to each other and at this point, you could say you were only arguing and maybe even using each other just to fuck. You tried everything to keep it a secret from your brother. But you also became careless as time passed.

Finally, in addition to your underwear, he found a shirt that he had given you, where you had left it in Woojin's bed. Of course, he had recognized it immediately and before Woojin could explain anything, Gunwoo snapped and had given him a strong punch in the face.

He was furious that you had kept it a secret from him for so long and he was very very stunned that such a thing had happened behind his back all this time.

Now Woojin sat on your couch and you pressed a bag of frozen peas on the bridge of his swollen nose.

"He got you pretty good..." you said affectedly, and you felt guilty. After all, you were partly to blame.

Gunwoo and Woojin had randomly come in, Woojin had bled all over your apartment after your brother had hit him unannounced in the middle of the nose, and after that he had brought him here to have someone take care of his bloody nose and most likely to confront you.

Since then, your brother had been pacing back and forth in front of you, trying to calm himself down. He could have guessed it. At the latest when Woojin was so interested that one afternoon. Gunwoo and he had made ramen on the roof of his apartment. A little ritual where they just chatted and let the training day end.

"I can't stand it at home anymore," he sighed, dropping into the chair next to Woojin.

"What's wrong?" asked Woojin, stirring the pot.

"Y/N's girlfriend is visiting and they talk all day! Without a break and I have to listen to everything even in my room... They're so loud!", he sighed exhaustedly and Woojin patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

"Even in the kitchen, you're not safe from the chatter... I hear things really I don't want to know."

Interested, Woojin raised his eyebrows and paused.

"What do you mean? What are they talking about?"

"Don't make me remember," Geonwoo sighed, and that's when his best friend elbowed him in the side.

"You can't start and then not tell the details."

Gunwoo stretched, groaning, as if the coming words would cause him physical pain.

"I suspected she was seeing someone. She's rarely home. Sneaks at her room abnormally early in the morning and lately she's even humming when she's working at the store. It's really creepy by now," he began, and Woojin had to bite his tongue to keep from grinning widely.

"Anyway, I overheard her talking about it with her friend in the kitchen. She said it was the best sex of her life, but wouldn't say with whom..."

Gunwoo shook himself in disgust and took over stirring the ramen. The corners of Woojin's mouth slowly lifted and he tried not to ask too suspiciously.

"Best sex of her life? That's what she said?"

"Yeah... It was disgusting enough, can you please not repeat it?" he asked and Woojin nodded quickly, though he would have loved to hear more. Inwardly, he was as happy as a little kid who got an ice cream cone as a reward for a good grade.

Even as he had beamed the rest of the evening, Gunwoo had suspected nothing. You could both see how sorry he was. He really hadn't meant to hurt Woojin. But it had also been wrong of you to lie to him for so long.

The two most important people in his life had lied to him for months and abused his trust.

"Gunwoo..." you began carefully, meekly, but he interrupted you:

"No! Don't! I'm not angry... But I can't be around you right now. I need to focus on the fight."

That came on top of it, too. Gunwoo had an important fight in the next few days that he had been training for for months.

"That's okay. Talk to me when you're ready, bro. I'm gonna go now...", Woojin said and stood up.

He looked at the peas in confusion and held the bag out to you a bit dorkily.

"You can keep those," you said in an occupied voice, and he nodded. When he disappeared through the door, you stood up too and gave your brother a worried look.

He ruffled his hair and ran both hands wearily through his face.

Chapter 8:

The Date

Over the next few days, things calmed down a bit. Gunwoo seemed to come to terms with it. At least he didn't mention it anymore. At his boxing match, you were both there cheering him on. The friendship between the two boxers was too strong after all and the they needed each other. They were inseparable and even you couldn't destroy that.

Later that day you celebrated his victory and while you ate pork belly, laughed and carelessly spent time together as before, your guilty conscience gradually faded away. Before you could say goodbye to Woojin in front of the restaurant and run home with Gunwoo, he held you back by the hand.

Questioningly, you looked up at him and that's when Gunwoo said:

"I'll go ahead and wait for you."

Gratefully, you gave him a curt look, which he returned with a smile before walking out of earshot.

"He's not mad at us anymore. That's good," Woojin said, kicking a pebble into the road.

"What's wrong?" you asked curiously, watching him squirm around for a while before he managed to look you in the eye.

"Do you want to do something tomorrow?"

You furrowed your eyebrows in wonder.

"Sure. I can come over if..."

"No... Not just to fuck. I'd like to spend time with you. Outside, get something to eat, and then go to the park?"

Completely perplexed, your mouth was open and you looked at him as if he'd suggested you jump off a cliff.

"The weather is supposed to be nice..."

Since you didn't answer, he became more and more uncertain. You looked for sarcasm or some malice, but nothing came. He just looked nervous. He cursed himself and swallowed hard as he stared at the floor. Why the hell was he so restless?

"Nevermind. That was a stupid idea. Just forget about it," he dismissed it, wanting to turn around and just disappear.

Unconsciously, you grabbed his sleeve and he turned back to you. Confused, yet with hope in his eyes that sprouted like the first snowdrops in spring.

"No. That's a nice idea. Will you pick me up?"

His face lit up and he scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"Uh, yeah. At two?"

"I'll help out at the store until three, then we can get going."

"Sounds good."

Silently, you just looked at each other. Nothing around you seemed to matter. The traffic, the people pushing past you on the sidewalk, and even the cloud pushing in front of the sun.

"See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," you repeated, and as soon as you caught up with Gunwoo, your cheeks glowed and your stomach did flips. He said nothing. He just smiled and put an arm around your shoulders as you turned into the street to your apartment.

While you waited for Woojin to pick you up, the same question played incessantly in your mind:

Was that a date?

Something inside you hoped so. As you took off your apron and checked your hair in the mirror, you heard the store door and Woojin's voice.

You almost cried out, you were so tense.

You had put on some makeup, were wearing a red summery dress because you knew that was his favorite color, and when you heard how happy your mom was about his visit, you felt warm. When you stepped out into the store, his eyes were immediately on you. His face lit up and his eyes wandered endlessly along your curves.

"Hey..." you said a little meekly.

"Hey. You look beautiful," he said, not knowing what to do with his hands. It was weird not meeting just to sleep with each other.

"Thanks... You too," you replied, and he really did. He was wearing ripped jeans and a tank top, so you could probably stare at his muscular arms all day. Your mom was obviously surprised by the sudden niceness between you and looked back and forth, puzzled.

"Shall we?" he asked, and you nodded. Before you could say goodbye to your mom, she came rushing out from behind the counter and thrust a bag into your hand.

"There's a little snack in there. Have a nice day," she said, placing a hand affectionately on Woojin's cheek before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Thank you very much Mrs Kim." he said enthusiastically and it was heartwarming how happy he was. You knew by now that he didn't have a very good relationship with his parents. That's why he looked up to your mother and enjoyed the affection she gave him.

As soon as you walked side by side through the streets, directly towards the park, a strange silence spread. It was completely absurd to spend time with Woojin without arguing. Birds were chirping and the park was decorated like a painting in various shades of green.

On the way, you picked up an iced coffee and eventually chatted as if it were a normal thing to be together. Only without Gunwoo. It was new how much you laughed even just the two of you and before you knew it half the day was over.

In the park, you spread out your jackets and lay down under a tree, through whose branches scattered rays of sunlight hit the earth and warmed your faces.

Although you thought it was supposed to be weird, it seemed perfectly normal as he put an arm around you and you snuggled up to him. You ate the donuts your mom had packed for you and teased each other until you fought over the last piece.

He may have been a good boxer, yet you were winning. At least that's what you thought as you proudly shoved the last piece into your mouth and he watched you, fondly smiling.

After a while, watching the sky, you asked:

"What do we do now?"

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at you.

"What do you mean?“

"I mean, what is it between us?" you asked, as that question circled you over and over.

"I think we're friends?"

Friends? Was that really the right word? Did you want you guys to just be friends? You tried to tell yourself it was so perfect. With no obligations, no extra thoughts, if everything just stayed the way it was. But it felt wrong and something in you resisted it. By now you were sure: you wanted more than that.

You just didn't know what. You wanted more days like this, where you laughed together, got talked about nonsense, looked together in the sky. You even wanted more fights and arguments, if that meant falling into bed with him at the end of the day.

"Friends who sleep together regularly?"

"Exactly..."

He played with a strand of your hair and wrapped it around his finger, lost in thought. You looked up at him and his absent look made you suspicious. It was as if he wanted to say something, but didn't dare. You intertwined your fingers with his and leaned your cheek against his chest.

A couple with a dog walked by, talking animatedly.

The sudden silence became more serious than either of you wanted. You indulged your thoughts and it was almost intimate as you enjoyed the last rays of the day's sunshine snuggled together.

"I'm sure you have other people you can sleep with. You have the pretty face for it," you said to lighten the serious mood. You didn't want to deal with what could be.

What if he really just saw you as a friend? Someone to blow off steam with, but nothing more. But then why had he brought you here today, and why had the day been so nice? Was he already bored having sex with you?

"Additionally, you're a possessive little freak, but it's very endearing," you added, and he grinned in amusement.

"But I only want you."

Stunned, you looked at him and when your eyes locked, it took your breath away.

"I've gotten too attached to you already," he added quickly.

Woojin flashed another, kindly mocking grin. Teasing, as ever. He tried to keep it light. Better that than wanting too much, knowing he would never get it.

You averted your eyes again and followed the couple, arm in arm, as they watched their dog run across the park.

Was that disappointment squeezing the air out of your lungs?

"What about you?"

"Huh?"

You played with the hem of his tank top, and he slid his hand down your sides until it was firmly against your hip.

"Why do you put up with me? You obviously can't stand me. So why?"

You didn't dare look at him, afraid he might read your true thoughts and feelings from your face.

"The sex is good," you murmured, and that's when he looked up at the sky and laughed, chuckling and your body shivered excited.

"Is that all it is? Then why did you come today?"

So many questions you didn't know the answer to. You didn't know why you agreed, you just knew you wanted to. You wanted to spend time with him outside of your bed or his room.

Why wasn't clear to you.

"I don't want anyone else either. I may have started to like you," you finally blurted out and he thought his heart would burst.

"Really?"

He looked at you incredulously and straightened up a bit. Immediately you blushed with shame. All this could not be, but you could not lie. Your body betrayed you anyway.

"Stop staring at me like that, creep!" you drove at him and pushed him so that he fell on his back and looked into the leaves with a smile.

"I don't believe it... Did Y/N Kim really just admit that she likes me?" he gasped, running both hands through his hair as if you had just revealed to him that you could fly.

Immediately, you regretted being so honest with him and rolled your eyes in annoyance.

"Shut up. I said maybe. You just ruined it again," you grumbled and crossed your arms. Why did he have to be so annoying anyway?

You felt vulnerable and that was a scary feeling.

Woojin sat up again and when he saw your tense expression and the sadness you were trying to hide behind a carefree mask, the grin died.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and turned you so that you were looking at him. Then he pulled you to the floor with him until you were on top of him, his leg between your thighs, pulling you into a deep kiss.

He was gentle, loving, running his hands down your sides and letting his tongue slide over your lower lip as light as a feather. By now he didn't care at all that you were in the middle of public.

Especially when your lips were too kissable and he just wanted to litter you with kisses all day.

You buried your fingers in his hair and melted in his arms as you opened your lips and he slid his tongue into your mouth. This time, it wasn't a contest. Not a race either of you wanted to win. You were moving in unison.

Your body was made for him as he curved perfectly into his. The kiss was more intimate than anything before and full of tenderness.

You could feel his heartbeat and it was reassuring that it was racing just like yours.

Between kisses, you felt him smile and pull you closer by the hips in a demanding way. He ran his hands under your shirt, over your back, so that his fingers left a trail of heat on your soft skin.

When he lifted his leg between your thighs and brushed against your middle, you gasped involuntarily into his mouth. You almost couldn't help rocking your hips just a little. You were desperate for some sort of friction and relief. Just hearing his voice, his body so close to yours, made you tense. You began to slowly rock and sway your hips, letting out small groans and pants.

As your fingers pulled at his hair, he moved his thigh teasingly and gave more pressure directly on your covered cunt. Immediately you got wet and the desire made you roll your hips against his leg.

Embarrassed, you bit your lower lip as he bobbed his leg and grinned as he felt you heatedly rubbing your cunt against him.

"Look at you... All desperate and needy. And in public," he whispered in your ear and you whimpered softly as he rubbed his thigh harder against your cunt.

To outsiders it just looked like a couple cuddling and whispering loving words to each other.

"Woojin I can't...," you murmured tensely and he watched as your lustful face tried to keep its composure.

"Take what you need, sweetheart," he murmured to you, guiding your hips against his leg with one hand. With the other he pushed your head to the side to kiss your neck.

Time began to stop and you rolled your hips harder against his thigh. The thought that someone could catch you only sent more arousal between your legs and made your skin tingle.

He was peppering kisses down your throat, stopping to suck a pretty red mark over your pulse point.

Every shift of his hips bumped up against your throbbing core and he held you tightly by the hips as you lost yourself in pleasure. Even clothed the drag on your clit was brilliant, you knew you were going to ruin your panties but the orgasm that was coming your way was worth it.

He bounced his leg just right and watched as your hips stuttered slightly and ran one hand under your shirt to knead your breast. Too inconspicuous for anyone else to notice what he was doing, but you felt every little movement so intensely that you buried your face in his neck. With a sharp curse, your hips continued to roll against those muscular thighs and your eyebrows pinched together from the unbelievable pleasure.

Your lips traveling to his collarbone as you squeezed your cunt against him, the friction on your clit sending electricity through you and as he grinded your hips intensely against his thigh a few more times, you came with a gasp and your body trembled on his.

Satisfied, he stroked a few strands of hair out of your forehead as you calmed down and kissed your temple.

"My good girl," the boxer praised, "Do you feel better now, dollface?" he asked and you nodded slowly and sunk against him. You were too sensitive now but your hips continued to roll lazily, trying to chase the powerful release.

"Thank you..." you said and snuggled closer to his chest. He bit your neck gently, then murmured suggestively:

"You can thank me at home with your sweet pussy. After all, it's mine."

You shuddered and your eyes met. Lasciviously you grinned and you played with his waistband.

"Shall we go?"

He nodded and the lust grabbed you like a tornado, pulled you with it and left no hesitation. You walked together to his apartment, your hand firmly on your ass and as soon as you were through the door, you took off your clothes.

You didn't even made it to his bed this time.

Instead, he ended up on top of you on the couch and the romantic kisses got hot and fiery. As soon as you had your underwear off, he said impatiently:

"Turn over! On all fours!"

With glowing cheeks you did as he said and before you could prepare yourself you felt a hand firmly on your hip and him slipping out of his boxers. The sight was intoxicating as you waited on all fours, ready and willing for him. Your elbows and knees were propped up to support your weight.

"Let's see how much my doll can handle."

He licked his lips before pressing his throbbing tip against your entrance, rubbing and tapping. Fear and excitement filled your body, his tip at your entrance stretched you out already and made you gasp.

"Less talking, more fucking", you snapped.

"You little bitch," he laughed and when his tip entered you, your arms weakened immediately.

Your hands gripped tense, into the padding as he thrusted ruthlessly into you, a rasping gasp escaping him.

"Asshole," you hissed, your voice trembling with pain.

"Fuck... You're so hot when you're angry," he moaned with his hands firmly on your hips, he tucked himself deep inside you, giving you no mercy with his vicious movements. Your nosy moan echoed throughout the apartment, but you didn't have enough self-awareness to stop it. His thick cock stretched out your walls so deliciously, your pussy constricted snuggly around him. He groaned at your tightness, wet and warm all around him.

His thrusts were brutally quick, as if he was trying to win a race. Or prove a point. Your eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy as you lost reality. You felt your mind leave your body. You feared your brain would melt and run out of your ears as he slammed into you from behind. You swear you were dangling above yourself. His pelvis slamming against your ass, the sound of skin slapping and the squelching sound of your aching cunt filling the room.

He noticed that you've been almost cumming all over his cock, your tight walls spasming around him. With your lack of oxygen, the world slowly slipped away from you in a lustful haze. Your pussy tightened around his length as your orgasm suddenly waved over you. Your body and mind submerges into a blissful fog as your climax surrounded him. His thrusts became chaotic and messy as he felt your cum soak his cock and you moaned his name incessantly between unholy whimpers. Heavy breathing, hearts racing, muscles trembling, and sweat glistening. You were trapped in your world of lust and passion.

He let you catch your breath for a moment as he turned you around by your hips and pressed a long kiss to your lips.

"Your perfect. So perfect for me. I want that forever. I wish I could have that forever," he said, his voice wavering dangerously.

Your hands were tight against his chest and you wanted to ask what he meant, but you didn't get to as he thrusted into you again incessantly, your nails dug into his muscular shoulders, and the way he fucked you forced uncontrollable sobs from your swollen lips.

You wanted to hide your face against his chest as the next orgasm threatened to tear you apart, but he pushed you back by the shoulder and his eyes bored into yours caught in a swirl of bliss.

"I want to look at your pretty face when I cum," he gasped, and somehow the moment felt final. There was something strange in his eyes and briefly you thought you saw sadness flashing in them.

But then the next orgasm sent you into a bright light until you saw stars.

As soon as your walls clenched around him, he gasped sharply and his lips crashed against yours. He bit your bottom lip and his thrusts became incoherent as he was about to cum.

Simply kissing him in your dizzy state felt euphoric, your insides contracting,

„Fuck." he sucked in a sharp breath "Still so fuckin' tight for me."

You stared overwhelmed into his eyes, they were filled with so much passion instead of lust. But there was something else. Something that weighed heavier. It felt warm, loving and engaging. The word was on the tip of your tongue, but it weighed far too heavy to speak it or even to grasp it in your thoughts. It was a feeling you had only read about in books or seen in movies. Your heart fluttered, his stare was gentle yet his thrusts were rough as he came inside you and his eyes nearly rolling back. By now it felt like he knew your body more than you did. His tip kept on kissing your g spot, causing you to let out stuttering whimpers as he spilled into you.

"Shit..." he huffed, panting heavily. Your chest raised up and down, catching your breath.

Still buried deep inside you, he collapsed on top of you and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

You stroked your fingers along his back, along his tattoo, and he wrapped his arms around your body so tightly that you gasped.

"Woojin... Babe you're crushing me," you chocked and he immediately eased up a bit.

Without further ado, he turned so that you were on top of him, but continued to hold you as if he was afraid you might disappear if he wasn't careful.

He did not pull out of you. With your pussy still squeezing him and sucking him in so good, he just couldn’t.

"I don't want to lose you," he sighed, stroking through your hair. Looking at him a little puzzled, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more behind his words.

"I'm here," you assured him, taking his face in both hands before kissing him lovingly.

"Let's stay like this for a while. You feel so warm," he murmured and you nodded, resting your cheek against his chest. He seemed more affectionate than usual. You also noticed how desperately he'd cling to you: how he'd tightly hold your thighs at his sides, how his fingernails were digging into your skin, how deeply he was trying to bury himself into you. Looking at your flushed face, all tired out, you couldn't look any more beautiful to him even like this. He looked at how you closed your eyes to give your body a break.

He absorbed everything: your expression, your touch, your warmth, your moans, your pussy, and most of all, your affection was his at the moment. The entirety of you was his and his alone and he would not change it for anything.

The next time you looked into his eyes, there was this vulnerability that surprised you. He wanted to say so much and yet he couldn't bring himself to say a word.

He wanted to say how much he wanted you to be his, how much he had fallen in love with you. How he loved everything about you. Your laugh, the angry glint in your eye, every one of your strange mannerisms.

But that wouldn't be fair.

Not when he was soon gone.

Chapter 9:

The Dream:

Just a few days later, you walked through the door at home yawning, wanting nothing but sleep after a tiring late shift at the café.

But when you saw Gunwoo packing his bag through the door gap in his room, you became curious. You went to his room, jumped on his bed and watched him.

"What are you doing? Are you going somewhere today?" you asked, and he was already swinging his bag on his back.

"I'm just going to bring Woojin some things he left here and then help him pack."

Completely confused, you straightened up, slid to the edge of the bed, and asked:

"Packing? For what?"

Now Gunwoo looked at you just as uncomprehendingly.

"Didn't he tell you?"

"Told me what?" you drove at him a little more briskly than you intended.

"Woojin has qualified for the Amateur Boxing Championship in America."

The info threw everything inside you upside down.

"That's great! He's always dreamed of this!" you said excitedly. Gunwoo nodded vehemently.

"If he wins there, both of us might be able to compete in the World Championships soon. Wouldn't that be crazy?" he exclaimed excitedly and you followed him into the hallway where he put on his shoes.

"But what does that mean? When is he going to America? The competitions are taking place in a few months, aren't they?"

Gunwoo looked up at you and replied:

"He got an offer from a famous coach who wants to prepare him for it. He's already leaving this weekend."

"What?" you gasped in disbelief, your throat instantly tightening.

"How long will he be gone?"

"That's still unclear. Half a year until the competition in any case. What happens after that, no one knows yet. If he does well, he can go straight to the next competitions."

As exciting as it sounded, to your ears it was just a disaster. Stunned, you dropped onto the sofa as soon as Gunwoo disappeared. Woojin would be out of your life in just two days, and maybe forever. And he had told you nothing.

All night long you tossed and turned in your bed. Your chest ached at the mere thought of Woojin going to America. At the same time, your guilty conscience paralyzed you.

It was his dream to box in the professional league and it didn't seem so far-fetched now.

When the first rays of sunlight broke through your window, you still hadn't slept a wink. Sighing, you sat up in bed and made a decision. You had to see him. You had to confront him and ask him about it.

So you slipped into your jacket and shoes and left the house early in the morning. Outside his apartment, you took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.

It took a while, but finally he opened the door and looked at you in amazement. Actually, you expected him to look completely sleepy, his hair a mess and sleep still in his eyes like every morning.

He was not an early riser, and yet he stood before you, alert and wide awake.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" he asked, letting you enter. In his living room you understood why he was already awake. There was an open suitcase on the floor and around it were clothes, his passport and other things. So it was true.

You turned to him with a tense heart.

"When do you wanted to tell me?"

He was obviously uncomfortable. Sighing, he ran his hand over his face and that's when you realized how tired he actually was.

"I was going to tell you... But I didn't think you'd care."

Stunned, you walked up to him.

"What, are you serious? You were just going to disappear without saying anything?", your voice automatically became louder and he stubbornly returned your gaze.

Actually, he had been incredibly afraid. Afraid that you really wouldn't care or that you were even happy when he disappeared. That would have broke him.

Since he had received the letter, he had thought of nothing but you. Instead of saying that, he shrugged.

"We're not together."

A lump formed in your throat. Did he really care that little? Your lower lip quivered dangerously, but you forced yourself to remain calm.

"Was it really that meaningless to you? Am I just a fuck toy for you that you could use at will?" you asked, and he would have loved to scream out loud. Would have pulled you into his arms and kissed the hurt expression from your face. But he was scared and frustrated.

He was afraid of what he would do if you rejected him and even more afraid of what he was willing to do if you didn't.

"Do you care, then? Didn't you just use me for your own pleasure? Or else you wouldn't come crawling back to me, begging me to fuck you so good you forget everything else," he drove at you and you took a few steps back as his jaw twitched furiously and he stepped at you.

"What do you want me to say?" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice steady.

You didn't dare give in. The anger, desperation, and frustration mingled into a sickening taste on your tongue. You didn't know why you were so angry. It only hurt to look at him. He was going to leave and there was nothing you could do about that.

"What you feel," he replied, anger reflected in his eyes as well. He hated that he felt that way. That you had done this to him.

He felt trapped in a spider web and every movement only made him sink deeper into it.

"I can't stand you," you replied, and every word hurt like someone was pressing red-hot iron against your skin. Maybe if you denied it, the feeling would go away on its own.

He came even closer, sparkling at you with mesmerising eyes.

"You don't mean that."

"You don't know what i mean," you shot back frantically.

You could see how hurt he was. But you didn't want to ruin his dream by being selfish. If you just told him, that he meant nothing to you, he could leave without wasting another thought about you and live his dream.

That's what you wanted for him and telling him the truth would only make things complicated for him.

"It's okay. Just leave! If I never see your face again, I'll be happy," you shot back at him, something inside you breaking more with each word.

"I wish i never-" but he interrupted you by grabbing your hand.

"Don't say something you don't mean. Don't you dare," he growled, desperately looking for something to prove otherwise.

"Don't you realize? This isn't working. We're going back and forth. When we're not fighting, we're fucking. It doesn't work like that. We're like poison for each other!", you retorted, the shards of what was left in your chest digging deeper and deeper into your flesh.

"You never change, do you? You never fucking change. Always so stubborn; always thinking you're right," Woojin murmured and you wanted to wrap your arms around him, tell him you didn't want to let him go.

But that would be selfish. He should chase his dream without another worry. You wanted him to be happy.

"I wish you all the best Woojin," you said, your voice finally breaking treacherously at his name. You turned quickly so he wouldn't see the first treacherous tears roll down your cheeks.

He sighed in anger before following you.

"Don't fucking walk away from me!"

He grabbed your hand and you pulled back as if he burned you with his touch.

"Stop telling me what to do!" you yelled back at him and he took a few steps back.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe all of this was a mistake. We would never work and all this is a big fucking mess. But please, before you go, tell me to my face that there's nothing between us. That I imagined all of it so I could have closure!"

All you wanted to do was cry and lash out. It felt like you were bleeding to death inside when you said:

"There's nothing there, and there never will be."

Every word was heavy as lead on your tongue and you feared your legs would give out if you looked into his desperate face for one more second. You wanted to tell him that there was so much you felt for him. That you believed you were seriously falling in love, but it would be selfish and dumb.

"All right..." he murmured, and the sadness in his eyes robbed you of the last of your hopes.

"I'm leaving now," you pressed out, and he watched as the door slammed shut behind you.

He didn't know how long he stared at the door, hoping you would come back and end the argument with a kiss, but that didn't happen.

Not this time.

Chapter 10:

The Love

With a curtain of tears obscuring your view, you stumbled home and as soon as you bursted through the door, past the confused Gunwoo, into your room, you collapsed on your bed sobbing.

Every muscle ached and you feared dying from the pain in your chest.

Putting his ear to the door, Gunwoo winced at the heart-wrenching sobs and cautiously walked in.

"Y/N?" he whispered, sitting anxiously at the edge of the bed.

You couldn't form a word, so tense was your body consumed by anger, rage, and grief. You didn't have to.

Gunwoo soothingly placed a hand on your back and pulled you closer until your head rested on his lap. Silently, he stroked your hair soothingly and was just there. Your big secure rock in the painfully raging waters. The anchor that kept you from sinking into the deep black tides of your mind.

For the next few days, you didn't leave your room. You couldn't bring yourself to touch the food your mom put on your nightstand and buried yourself under your covers, hoping you'd never have to leave your bed again.

By Saturday night, Gunwoo had had enough.

You felt the mattress beside you lower as he sat down.

"Woojin's flight leaves in an hour..." he said into the silence, as if you hadn't been counting the minutes.

"Why are you telling me this?" you grumbled into your pillow, trying to ignore the way your heart contracted painfully.

"You should tell him how you feel before it's too late."

Gunwoo's words made you look up, and as you looked at him, you realized he was dead serious.

"What, how.?“

"It's obvious. To everyone but you two idiots. You like each other and I want you to be happy. To do that, you have to tell him how you feel before he's gone."

"It's too late," you howled into your pillow as Gunwoo suddenly yanked the covers off you. The cool air against your bare legs gave you goosebumps.

"What are you doing!" you snapped at him, but he also ripped the pillow from under your head, causing your face to slam into the mattress.

"Get up! I'm taking you to the airport. Now!"

You stared at him, stunned, and slid to the edge of the bed.

"Are you serious?" you asked uneasily, and he was already tossing you a pair of jeans from your closet.

"I've never been more serious! Come on hurry up!"

So you picked yourself up, took new courage and got dressed. Excitedly, you kneaded your hands the entire car ride. At the airport, you already felt so sick that you wanted to throw up.

With Gunwoo, you ran past the many people. Like in an anthill, tons of people were scurrying around. Businessmen with suits, families with a convoys of suitcases, and groups of young people visiting relatives or were on vacation.

Hurriedly, heart pounding, you kept a lookout for Woojin, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe we're too late," you gasped as Gunwoo stretched his head and kept a lookout. He was taller and thus had a better view.

But there he suddenly pointed to a counter where Woojin was about to walk through the gate.

"There he is!" he shouted. His curly head and broad shoulders clearly set him apart from the other people.

You didn't have to think for a second to sprint. Like a maniac, you pushed past the people, earning indignant stares, but nothing would stop you from reaching him.

"Woojin! Wait!" you shouted, almost running over an old man. You apologized hurriedly and kept running. He turned around in amazement and when he saw you, he took a step out of the crowd.

Your feet seemed not to touch the ground and as soon as you reached him you threw yourself into his arms so violently that he staggered back a few steps, but he held you so tightly that that you lifted off the ground.

His smell and touch glued the pieces that had once been your heart back together.

You held him so tightly and swore never to let him go. By now you had attracted the attention of most of the people around you, but that didn't stop you from sobbing in relief.

You broke away from him slightly, but only to look him in the eye. He set you down carefully and his amber eyes scrutinized you in complete wonder. You wrapped your arms around his neck and began to chatter away like a waterfall:

"I'm so sorry. I was so stupid. It's totally fine if you don't feel that way, but I'm pretty sure I fell in love with you. You mean so much to me and I can't sleep, eat or breathe without you... I just didn't want to mess up and get in the way of your dream.“

"Y/N..." he tried to interrupt you for the first time, but everything that had been building up burst out of you.

"You’re an amazing boxer and I didn’t want to make things complicated for you. Also I've never felt anything like this before and I was afraid you wouldn't want me."

"Sweetheart. Y/N?"

Sobbing, you didn't realize you were crying until he wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs and cupped your cheeks lovingly. Breathing hard, you looked up at him and he smiled warmly.

"May I say something now?" he asked quietly, and there was so much affection in his eyes that you just nodded, sniffling.

"I'm in love with you. For quite a while now. I didn't know this feeling. When I was near you I felt things I had never felt before. But now I know: I'm deeply madly and head over heels in love with you."

"Really?"

He laughed at the look on your face. You were too cute with those puffy lips, reddened eyes, and beautiful affection in your eyes.

"Yes. Can I finally kiss you now?"

You nodded and that's when he pulled you by the chin into a kiss that blew away all the pain of the last few days like a violent whirlwind. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest as you snuggled up to him and deepened the kiss.

Now you knew what this strange feeling was that floated between you like a lukewarm summer wind. It was love.

The word suddenly didn't feel so far away anymore.

With closed eyes you slowly separated from each other, smiling and savouring the moment. You blushed when you saw how many pairs of eyes were directed at you. Nevertheless, you could not stop smiling at each other.

Then an announcement rang out, announcing Woojin's flight in a few minutes.

"I have to go..." he muttered in anguish, and you stroked his chest with your hands.

"Yeah I know."

He didn't want to let you go and it was obvious how much he was fighting with himself.

"Just to make sure: You're my girlfriend now?" he asked with that typical cheeky grin.

Your heart fluttered and you wanted to squeal with delight. You laughed blissfully and overwhelmed with happiness. He wanted to bottle up that sound so bad and keep it with him forever.

"Yes. All yours..." you replied and he looked at your features dreamily.

"All mine," he murmured and pulled you by the hips into a kiss again. It was getting harder and harder to separate from each other, but you managed somehow.

"You have to go! Otherwise you'll miss the flight," you gasped breathlessly, pressing your forehead to his.

"Will you call me?"

"Of course. After all, we're officially together now. We'll cheer you on from home until you get back," you said, and along with the joy, a little wistfulness now crept in.

After all, this was still goodbye. A temporary farewell, but still devastating now that you finally stopped being stupid and found each other.

"Take care of Gunwoo for me!" he said and that's when you noticed your brother standing behind you, smiling broadly but with teary eyes.

"Come here Bro!", Woojin said then and spread an arm invitingly.

Gunwoo literally jumped into the embrace and so you three squeezed each other tightly.

"Show them and win!" said Gunwoo and you thought you heard a muffled sob.

When you broke away from each other, you all had tears in your eyes and yet you were grinning broadly.

"We see each other soon...Maybe you can visit me?" said Woojin, and neither of you would move, nodding while sniffling and pouting.

When your brother pulled him sobbing into his arms once more, you laughed softly and wiped the tears from your eyes.

Then the idiot that you somehow fell in love with turned to you again, pulled you closer by your face, and gave you one last, loving kiss.

"I love you, dollface"

"I love you, idiot"

With that, you let go and watched Woojin disappear through the gate. Gunwoo put an arm around you and you leaned your head against his shoulder. That wasn't exactly what your brother had in mind, when he wanted you two to know each other but having your best friend as possible brother-in-law wasn't that bad either.

Before Woojin disappeared completely, he saluted Gunwoo, which your brother returned with a laugh. Then he was gone and there were only the two of you again.

With a muffled sob you hid your face in your hands, while Gunwoo led you outside the airport.

„I‘ll miss his stupid face“, you cried and Gunwoo chuckled slightly.

He shook is head and looked at you with a healing smile.

„Who would have guessed…“

The End

——

@marked-unknown @littlebaby-bunbun @officialshania @choisoorin @fanaticnae @hoe4wonwoo @lola2004sworld @penny44224 @artisticbirb @amnmich @spaggedy @tasteskz-sworld

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turvi · 11 months

Note

id like to request an older!remus x wife involving them waking up together on a rainy Saturday morning 🥹

Ayee thank you so much for this request I hope you enjoy this.

Remus was up before Y/n, enjoying the sound of the rain pattering against the roof and the feel of the cold wind. He loved it when the sky wasn't too dark. And the rain wasn't too heavy.

He saw Y/n sleeping peacefully by his side. She looked so beautiful, but Remus wanted to share this peaceful moment with her. So he woke her up in the most chaotic way.

Remus blew raspberries on her shoulder. He smirked when he heard her groan. When they had first started dating 10 years ago, he would wake her up like a gentleman would. With sweet kisses. Now Remus couldn't help but be annoying to her after they had spent so many years together.

"I'm up...I'm up." Y/n's voice croaked. She opened her eyes to see Remus smirking.

"Morning dove, look, it's raining."

Y/n looked at him in disbelief. "You woke me up to see rain?"

"Yeah, look, it's such pleasant weather. I want to enjoy it with my wife." Remus said, kissing her neck and shoulders, knowing she would melt.

His breath tickled her neck, and she was no longer groggy and pissed. Y/n let Remus tug her closer to him. His stubble pricked against her skin. She gasped. "Growing a beard Mr Lupin?"

Remus smirked and ran his hand across his stubble. "Well, you did say beard might look nice on me, Mrs Lupin."

Y/n leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

She gasped when he pushed her back gently and got on top of her, his nose touching hers. "Maybe I am. What will you do about that, Mrs Lupin?" He loved calling her that. A part of him still couldn't believe this was real. That she chose to spend her life with him.

"Remus, we will get late if you don't stop." she giggled as he continued to kiss her neck and collarbone.

"Just 15 more minutes."' He mumbled against her skin.

..............................................

2 hours later, the couple held each other as they regained their breath. Y/n lightly smacked Remus' arm, which made him jolt. "You said 15 minutes."

Remus smirked at her breathless sight and shrugged. "oops. Let me make it up to you. How about round 2?"

Y/n scoffed and hit him with a spare pillow. In reality, she was just glad to see Remus happy and healthy. The war had taken a nasty toll on him, and Voldemort was growing in power and she was worried whether she and Remus would be able to see each other again or not.

This led them to get married while the war was going on because if their life was ending now, at least they spent it together, in each other's arms.

Y/n thanked the stars that she could see his bright smile again, hear him laugh, trace his scars, and let him know she loved him in this life and the next.

She wanted nothing else, but to be his forever, and Remus needed nothing else but her to be his side.

Remus was so thankful for her that he kissed her again, the kind of kiss you feel in every essence of your living, the kind of kiss that reminds them that it's over and they have each other again.

He leaned back. "Stay here. Let me make you breakfast." Remus didn't move until he drew circles on her hip and cheek, feeling her skin and taking a deep breath his heart reminding his mind she is here.

Y/n smiled "ok...but I will make tea. You add too much sugar."

Remus chuckled as she followed him to the kitchen, quickly preparing their breakfast to enjoy it in each other's presence.

A/N: I hope you like this. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

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theetherealbloom · 5 months

Text

WHERE DO WE GO NOW? - CH. 2 | 14th Doctor

Chapter Two: All Our Best Years Are Behind

Summary: With the TARDIS out of control, you three end up stranded on a spaceship. Unbeknownst to you all, you're not the only one on board.

Pairing: 14th Doctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt-to-Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Possible Plot Holes, Vague Background, Aliens, Mild Horror, Violence, Past Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Timey-Wimey Stuff, Star-Crossed Lovers, Second Chance, Character Death, Mention of Su!c!de,

Word Count: 11.7k

A/N: Tbh, this chapter took a while for me to write because of all the holiday shopping I needed to do tehe! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter and as you know I thrive for feedback, reblogs and comments. Thank you for all the love you've given so far to this series and I can't wait to start writing the next chapter because I have a bunch of ideas swirling around in my mind hehe. Also, please note that English isn't my first language, please forgive me for any grammatical errors or wrong spelling etc. Love you loads!

Song: anything (demo) by Dodie

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

ENGLAND, 1666 — MORNING

The TARDIS collides with an unknown object, sending you and Donna tumbling through the room. Donna clings to the railing for stability, but you, unfortunately, lose your balance. As you teeter on the edge of falling, the Doctor swiftly intervenes, grabbing your waist and pulling you close. Your bodies collide in the chaotic scenario as flames and sparks whirl around the console.

The Doctor gently cradles your head with one hand, conducting a swift but thorough assessment for any injuries. Satisfied with the examination, he presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. With a determined look, he retrieves a piece of the console, swiftly making his way to the TARDIS doors. His focus shifts to triangulating your current location and time, a sense of urgency evident in his movements.

You, the Doctor and Donna pop your head out the TARDIS and you can see a bright blue clear morning sky and it seems that you have crashed into an apple tree. You look down to see a man holding an apple while looking up at the three of you in disbelief.

The Doctor, with a quirky smile, introduces you and Donna to the stranger he's just encountered. His charm radiates as he explains, "Oh! Sorry, we’re just slightly out of control. This is my fiancée, Stargazer. My friend, Donna..." He playfully gestures towards Donna, who greets the stranger with a friendly grin, "This is Donna. Donna Noble."

"Hi!" Donna chimes in cheerfully.

The Doctor, ever the quick thinker, continues, "Just dropped some coffee into the console." Donna interjects with a light-hearted assurance, "But don’t worry. He’s got a time machine, which means he can blame me for all eternity."

Ignoring Donna's quip, the Doctor turns to the perplexed man and earnestly asks, "I just need to triangulate. Could you tell me what year this is?"

The man, clearly taken aback, responds, "It’s 1666."

You and the Doctor exchange puzzled glances, your lips puckering in unison as you simultaneously warn the stranger, "Oh! Stay away from London."

The Doctor proceeds to input the year into a device, then has a sudden realization, exclaiming, "Wait a minute. Apple tree. Apple. Man holding an apple in 1666. Are you Sir Isaac Newton?"

"Sir Isaac?" to which the man reveals himself as the renowned figure who discovered gravity.

The Doctor, correcting his error, teases, "Oh! Not yet. Spoilers."

Donna, injecting some humor, remarks, "Have you got the controls set to famous or what?"

The Doctor, with a hint of exasperation, retorts, "If I had controls. Thank you."

Donna playfully engages Isaac Newton, saying, "But it's got to be said, Mr. Isaac Newton, that you, above all others, can appreciate—"

The Doctor interjects with a cautionary, "Oh, no, don't."

Undeterred, Donna persists, "You can appreciate—" and you join in, emphasizing, "Really, really don't." Donna groans and urges, "Oh, come on!"

Turning back to a bewildered Isaac Newton, she asserts, "You can appreciate—" and in unison, the three of you declare, "the gravity of the situation."

A loud bang and fire erupt from behind the three of you, prompting a swift turn to witness the chaotic scene inside the TARDIS. The Doctor hastily tells Isaac Newton, “Oh! Sorry, gotta go. Bye!” You and Donna join in, adding your farewells, “Bye!”

UNKNOWN SPACESHIP — ???

As the TARDIS crash lands, Donna steps out of the TARDIS, beginning to say, “I am never ever—”

After hastily evaluating the impending disaster at the TARDIS console, you and the Doctor realize it's on the verge of erupting in flames. The Doctor seizes your wrist and swiftly ushers you outside, shouting to Donna, "Out of the way!"

Both you and the Doctor hit the ground, Donna in tow, as flames erupt from the TARDIS doors. Strangely, the U.S. Air Force song plays in the background with audible lyrics:

"Here they come

Zooming to meet our thunder

At ‘em, boys, give ‘em the gun"

Lying on the floor, the TARDIS abruptly slams its doors shut, bringing an unexpected end to the song. The three of you are panting on the floor in shock and confusion plastered on your face.

As you three pull yourself up and stand, Donna asks in disbelief and unsureness, “Is it… Is it all right? Is it broken? Is it knackered?”

With a frown, the Doctor strides toward the TARDIS doors and pushes them open. "Uh..."

Ducking your head from underneath his shoulder, you peer inside to assess the damage. The hiss of fire and creaking of objects reach your ears amid the billowing steam surrounding the TARDIS. Both you and the Doctor frown at the sight, and he utters a small, "Ooh."

Gently closing the TARDIS door, the Doctor grips both sides of the time machine with his hands. You take a step back, and Donna softly and sheepishly asks, "Is it bad?"

The Doctor presses his forehead against the blue doors in defeat, groaning, "It was brand-new."

Donna softly says, "Sorry."

The Doctor composes himself, taking a deep breath. He spins around and addresses Donna, saying, “Not your fault.”

“Yes, it was.” Donna responds matter-of-factly, accompanied by an awkward smile. “But can we fly? Can you fix it? Can we get back home?”

The Doctor grins, “We can do anything.” Donna laughs in delight.

The Doctor brandishes his sonic screwdriver and says, “Sonic screwdriver,” then pulls out a regular screwdriver, “and a non-sonic screwdriver.”

You and Donna share a laugh, and you playfully point out, “I think a non-sonic screwdriver is just called a screwdriver.”

The Doctor nods, giving you an adorable smile, “Thank you, love.”

“But if I can just reconfigure…” The Doctor starts as he fiddles with the keyhole of the TARDIS, “'Cause this old box can regenerate itself if I can just click it into gear.”

“Am I going mad, or did the TARDIS play ‘Wild Blue Yonder’?” Donna asks both you and the Doctor. He frowns and furrows his brows, “Yeah, it did, didn’t it?”

“What for?” Donna asks, and you reply, “I wonder.”

“We sang that in the choir in primary school. We’d have a little concert every Christmas, but gramps complained. He said, ‘You shouldn’t be teaching children that.’ It sounds all jaunty and fun, but it’s not. It’s the military going to war.” Donna shares as you stand next to her.

“Yeah. It’s the Air Force. The words are ‘wild blue yonder,’ which means the TARDIS played us a war song.” The Doctor frowns in contemplation but then manages to remove a portion of the keyhole. He inserts the end of his sonic screwdriver into the keyhole and clicks a button. The sonic emits a sound as the Doctor continues, “There, now... it can rebuild.”

The Doctor leaves the sonic screwdriver inserted as it continues to hum. The three of you take a few steps back as you hear the TARDIS clattering inside, shifting gears. The Doctor makes a face as he says, “Ooh. Okay? Yes?”

The TARDIS suddenly groans, and you three lean a little backward. Donna then asks, “Is it working?”

“Think so. Strange.” The Doctor comments. After a few seconds, the light atop the police box lights up blue and emits a small ding. The Doctor smiles and clasps his hands together, “There you go! Mending, mending, mending. Give it a bit of time.”

The Doctor then looks around the space you had landed, bends his knees up and down as he says, “So, now. I wonder where we are. Feels like a spaceship? Yeah?”

Donna concurs, “Yeah.”

The Doctor remarks, “Flight.”

Donna then adds, “Spaceship.”

The Doctor scrunches his nose as he shrugs, “Let’s just see.” He moves to what seems to be a door and presses the button on the side, leaving you and Donna to follow him.

“Wow! Nice!” The Doctor remarks as you enter the large, long corridor of the spaceship. Multiple shapes and sizes of grey panels surround the interior walls, while large mechanical beams hold the roof, leaving you in awe of the immense size of the entire spacecraft.

“Big!” Donna comments as she looks around, and The Doctor adds, “Very big!”

“I’d hate to be the cleaner,” Donna says as she gazes up at the high ceilings.

You then spot something in the distance, a small, white figure standing still. Squinting your eyes, you try to make out its shape and say, “Is that—”

The Doctor begins to wave his hand in the air, yelling, “Hello! We just landed. By accident. I hope that’s okay.”

There’s no response from whatever is at the end of the long corridor. Donna leans a little closer and asks, “Is that a person or a thing?”

The Doctor can’t help himself as he looks at the two of you, his tone suggesting, “We could take a look.”

Donna scoffs and points out, “Or we could stay here, wait for the TARDIS to mend itself so I can get back home. My family is waiting for me.”

The Doctor makes a face as he hums and points with his thumb, “Mmm?”

You shake your head while looking up, knowing his curiosity will always win. Eventually, Donna relents, “Yeah, all right.”

The Doctor smiles and shoves a hand down his pocket as he takes your hand in his, and the three of you walk down the massive, long corridor. Donna begins to say “Still, wherever we are, could be worse. We’ve got air. We’ve got lights. We’ve got mavity.”

You and the Doctor glance at each other before nodding along with Donna. Both of you hum and agree, “Yeah.”

“Was it me, or was Isaac Newton hot?” Donna says, and you grin wildly as you nod your head in agreement, saying, “Oh, thank the stars someone said it! 'Cause, yes, he was very hot.”

“He was, wasn’t he? He was so hot.” The Doctor said before realizing, “Oh, is that who I am now?”

You give the Doctor a reassuring squeeze as Donna says to the Doctor, “Well, it was never that far from the surface, mate. I always thought—” She’s cut off by the sudden sound of the TARDIS engine whirring, and the three of you race back to where you had landed to see it disappear.

The Doctor exclaims in panic, “No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!”

“But— What?” Donna says as she takes a small step back in disbelief. You're by the Doctor’s side as your mouth slightly opens in shock, feeling a tightness in your chest of uncertainty.

“You’ll get it back though?” Donna asks, “Doctor, you can get it back.”

The Doctor has wide eyes and a mouth agape as he doesn’t reply. Donna steps in front of the two of you, saying, “Doctor, you can get the TARDIS back, can’t you? Use the sonic.”

The Doctor’s eyebrows dip in the middle, a visible annoyance and frustration as he replies, “It was in the keyhole.”

Donna’s eyes widen, and she stammers as she tries to gather solutions to the problem you three were in. She says, “But you can whistle. You could snap your fingers. You could summon it. Just use that stupid head of yours and get it back.”

The Doctor gives her a look as he grits his teeth in slight rage, and Donna shakes her head at him, pointing a finger as she says, “Oh, don’t you look at me like that. It’s your fault.”

To which you and the Doctor give her a more pointed look, and Donna continues on, “I said, ‘Let’s stay here’. But you two had to wander off.”

You raise your voice as you say, “You wandered with us!”

Donna retaliates with her voice high-pitched, “Oh, like I could stop you both!”

The Doctor adds fuel to the fire, his voice raising, “You spilled the coffee—” He stops himself, not liking where all the blaming and pointing fingers were going. To him, there was no point, so he threw his hands in the air as he turned around, saying, “No.”

The Doctor places both hands on his hips as you let out a deep sigh through your nose as you cover both your eyes with the palms of your hands, rubbing them out in frustration.

Donna fiddles with the lapels of her coat as she nods and agrees with a soft note, saying, “No.”

The Doctor briefly raises both of his hands in surrender as he softly says, “Sorry.” To which you also add your own, “Sorry, Donna.”

Donna steps back, and her voice shakes as she says, “No. Okay. Fine.” Then you see panic seep through Donna. She begins to pant, her eyes slightly water and rim her eyes, and her lower lip begins to tremble. “Oh— Oh, my God. Where are we?”

You and the Doctor move towards her the moment her lower lip begins to tremble, and Donna has an outstretched hand, trying not to let you two get close, but it’s no use. The Doctor grabs her hand and gives it a small kiss in reassurance. Then you hold on to grab her other hand in support as she whimpers, and she sniffles out, “Rose is waiting.”

The Doctor looks directly into Donna’s shining blue eyes as he says, “I will get you home.” Donna shakes her head, “How?”

The Doctor is serious as he says, “There is one hope. A mechanism on board the TARDIS called the HADS. Hostile Action Displacement System.” He then lets go of Donna’s hand and continues, “If the TARDIS is in danger, it goes away.”

“Goes where?” Donna asks.

“Anywhere. And it only comes back when the danger is gone. I turned it off years ago. I mean, I’d never land anywhere. Once spent three years with the Stargazer in orbit, and I thought, ‘Oh, mmm, turn off the HADS’, but if the TARDIS is rebuilding itself, maybe it clicked back on.” The Doctor explains, and Donna realizes, “But that means we’ve landed in the middle of hostile action.”

To which the Doctor replies with a somber tone, “Yeah.”

In moments like these, you remain silent, your mind kicking into overdrive as it gathers as much information as possible, desperately searching for a solution to the chaotic situation around you.

“There’s something on this ship that’s so bad the TARDIS ran away?” Donna asks, a slight quiver in her voice. The Doctor stammers, “Y-yes.”

Donna takes a moment before declaring, “Then… we go and kick its arse!” She moves to slam the palm of her hand on the button on the wall that opens the door and strides down the corridor with determination. You and the Doctor exchange a look before trailing after her.

“She was very put out. Mrs Bean,” Donna says as the three of you stroll down the long spaceship corridor. The Doctor, intrigued, asks, “Mrs Bean?” Your hand is in his, swaying with the movement of your bodies as you walk. He never wants to let you go again, now that he has you back.

Donna recounts her memory, “Head of the choir. She said, ‘It’s not a war song. It’s jolly.’ That’s what she said, ‘It is jolly.’”

After a brief moment of silence, you turn to Donna with a silly expression, “Mrs Bean?” The three of you burst into laughter at the absurdity of the last name, wondering just how unlucky someone must be to carry a vegetable as their surname for the rest of their life.

“Fenslaw.”

An automated voice echoes through the speakers of the spaceship, causing the pillars and panels to click and clatter as they shift and move around you three. You, the Doctor, and Donna stand still in concern, watching as everything unfolds before settling back into place.

“What was that?” Donna asks with narrowed eyes.

The Doctor frowns as he tries to understand, “Like circuits moving. Or it’s reconfiguring to become…”

“But what was that word? Fenslaw. What’s that mean?” Donna asks.

The Doctor shrugs, “I don’t know. The TARDIS translates, but now it’s gone.”

“No, the TARDIS translates for me. I thought you knew twenty-seven million languages.” Donna points out.

“I know fifty-seven billion two hundred and five, but not this one.” The Doctor says matter-of-factly, and you roll your eyes at his subtle brag. Then he tilts his head slightly, “Unless it’s Mr Fenslaw saying his name?”

Donna shakes her head, “It wasn’t that.”

The Doctor nods and agrees as he parrots back, “It wasn’t that.”

Donna turns and places her hands in the pockets of her coat, jutting her chin out in the direction where the unknown species or object stands from a distance and says, “Jimbo didn’t move. What is that?”

The Doctor begins, “Oh, wait a minute. If I’m right…” Then he steps on a button on the floor with his grey converse, and a mechanism hisses before popping up a small orange hovering transport vehicle. Donna chuckles in amusement as she moves to sit in the passenger seat on the far end.

The Doctor gives you a cheeky grin and exaggerates his accent as he says to the two of you, “Your car, milady.”

“Thank you, Parker.” Donna says with her own exaggerated accent. You sit in between them as the Doctor drives.

After a few meters of driving, the object comes into view, and you say with realization, “Oh, it’s a robot.”

The Doctor pulls the vehicle to a halt, and you three exit the cart as you stand in front of the white, round, and old robot. The Doctor then says, “Hello, Jimbo. Can you talk?” The robot doesn’t move or make a single beep, and the Doctor continues to try to talk to it as he bends down to its height, “You got basic communications, Fenslaw? Fenslaw. No?” He moves an inch closer as he slowly speaks to it, “Fenslaw.”

With no response, the Doctor resorts to knocking on the white metal of the robot’s head, and a hollow echo sounds out. The Doctor waddles a little backward as he continues to ask, “Have you got controllers listening? Hello, I’m the Doctor, this is my soon-to-be-wife the Stargazer,” you interject him by saying, “Haven’t agreed to anything, yet.” He ignores it and continues with introductions, “This is Donna. We need help. We need to—”

He’s cut off as the Doctor takes a slow and mechanical step forward, causing the three of you to jump and take a step back. “Is that it?” Donna asks, wondering if there’s more to it than the robot.

“One step at a time.” The Doctor says, and Donna spirals, “What is it? Maybe it’s an invader. Maybe that’s the hostile action.”

Then you look around the robot, observing it, before remarking, “I think it’s just old. See, look at the rust.”

“It’s primitive if you don’t mind me saying so, Jimbo. Someone got a very old robot out of storage to walk very slowly down a very long corridor.” The Doctor says before taking a long inhale, “Why?”

“Maybe… time slowed down.” Donna guesses and you and the Doctor shake your heads. You then say, “No. We’d feel it in our bones.”

The Doctor points at the robot while saying, “Stay there, Jimbo. No sudden moves.” He then tilts his head back on the cart, “Onwards?” You and Donna hum before following the Doctor back to the cart.

Donna lifts her hand and tells the Doctor, “Uh, I’ve got it.” As you climb into the cart, Donna says, “Allons— as the idiots say— –y!”

She steps on the gas, and the car moves forward, zooming along the corridor. Eventually, you reach the end of the corridor, revealing a door. The three of you move to the door, which slides open.

The door behind you slides down shut as the Doctor calls out, “Hello? Is anyone home?”

With no response, the three of you push forward. The entire room glows in cool blue light, leading you to the front of the ship where you find an empty captain’s chair and two monitors attached to the front.

“Well, definitely a spaceship,” Donna comments as she steps forward to look out the large window in the front, continuing, “If that’s space.”

The Doctor hops into the pilot’s chair, saying, “We’ve got a chair. That’s a good sign. It’s a life form with a bum.” He presses one of the switches on the control panel, adding, “If I can translate their basic one to ten, I can find out where we are. And when. And why.”

Putting on his glasses, the Doctor reads out the screen, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Now I can read the base codes. So, life signs?” After pressing a few buttons, the computer whizzes and chirps, and the Doctor frowns, “None. Just an empty chair.”

“Where have they all gone?” Donna asks, leaning forward, and you feel something shiver up your spine, as if you’re being watched around the corner.

The Doctor hums, “The spaceship seems to have powered down. Basic functions ticking over.” Then something catches your eye, and you point out on the monitor, “Oh. Someone opened an airlock door three years ago. And then it closed.”

“What for?” Donna asks with wide eyes and continues, “This whole ship has been empty for three years?”

“Don’t know,” the Doctor mumbles as he reads the symbols on the screen. Then he realizes and says, “Those numbers are lenses. There’s a camera.” As you lean a little closer to see what the Doctor is saying, you feel him tug you closer and suddenly let you sit in his lap, your entire body flooding with warmth.

You squirm in his lap and playfully smack his shoulder as he lets out a yelp, “Ow!”

You look at Donna apologetically, and she gives you a knowing smile, not letting the display of affection affect her. She hasn’t seen the Doctor this happy in ages.

The Doctor flips a few switches while explaining, “Like a drone. We can see where we are.” As the drone activates, you see what it’s seeing on the screen in front of you, and the Doctor chuckles in excitement, tightening his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he mumbles, “Well, it’s definitely a spaceship.”

Donna asks, “What kind of spaceship?”

“Don’t know,” the Doctor replies honestly. Then the drone appears from the front of the ship, shining a bright flashlight in your direction. The Doctor moves his head to the side and uses a hand to wave, “Ah! Hello!” which you see on the monitor to your left.

“But if we’re in space, there are no stars,” Donna points out and then asks, “Where are the stars?”

“We could be inside a dust cloud or a mavity well, or—” The Doctor pauses suddenly as he reads the screen to his right, “Oh.”

“What?” Donna asks with concern in her voice, and the Doctor shakes his head, “No, it’s fine. The ship is lost. It fell through a wormhole.”

“Ending up where?” Donna inquires, and you frown as you try to translate the rest of the symbols. The Doctor sighs, “I’m sorry, Donna. The TARDIS was out of control. It’s taken us…”

“To the edge of the universe,” you say, finishing the Doctor’s sentence. The drone moves away, and Donna takes a step forward toward the glass, where a void of pitch black is on the other side.

“So, what’s out there?” Donna asks with a subtle shift in her tone, a little scared. The Doctor taps your hip to stand, which you do, and the two of you follow Donna to look at the view of the edge. The Doctor removes his glasses and pockets them as he begins to say, “Well, that’s difficult… for you because if the universe is everything, then the concept of everything having an edge is, mmm, kind of impossible. But that’s the language of 21st-century Earth, and you don’t know anything yet.” The Doctor pauses and adds, “Not being rude. You just don’t. When you discover Camboolian Flat Mathematics, you’ll discover it’s possible.”

“What?” Donna asks softly, and the Doctor replies, “That. The nothing. At the edge of creation. Absolute nothingness.”

Donna then says, “But starlight travels. You can stand in my garden and look at the light from stars a billion miles away. So, where’s the light?”

You nod to the corner and say, “Over there. It just hasn’t reached us yet.” You then point and explain, “If we flew in that direction, it would take a hundred trillion years to reach your house.”

You see Donna’s eyes glaze over and water, “That’s my family. Over there.”

The Doctor comments, “I’ve never been this far out.” He then places a hand on the glass, “To stand here like this.” He begins to softly say, “Physically. Unprotected. Right on the edge.” He then places his other hand on the glass and leans forward to observe the empty void. Absent of stars and light. He continues, “No one ever has. Not ever. Till us. And this ship.”

“And an airlock that opened three years ago. And closed,” Donna says, and the Doctor pushes himself off the glass and inhales, “Yeah.”

Suddenly, a loud metal clang reverberates throughout the ship, causing the three of you to whip your heads around to see the source of the noise. You rush out of the pilot’s room, and the door slides up and opens, revealing nothing.

“Must’ve been just settling,” the Doctor says, and Donna looks around skeptically, “You said no signs of life. Are you absolutely certain?”

“Coliss.”

The deep automated voice echoes, and you watch as the hexagonal panels and large pillars begin to flip and switch, clicking and clattering before coming to a stop.

“It said fenslaw and coliss. Like a list. Or a solicitors. Or a countdown. Or instructions.”

“Or a warning,” Donna adds.

The Doctor’s brows furrow, and he puffs out his cheeks. “Slow warning,” he says as he turns around back inside the pilot’s area with you two following him.

“I think this way,” the Doctor says, spinning to the far right end of the room before entering a different section and saying happily, “Yes! Base plate repetition filaments.” He pats both of the drawers that glow a bright orange before pulling a drawer while letting out a small gasp, “Huh.”

He then pulls one of the filaments out, and it creates a squelching sound as he does, vocalizing, “If we move one up…” It drips out goo as he inspects it, and Donna asks, “Is that stuff dangerous?”

“No. I don’t think so,” the Doctor says. He moves to sniff it before sticking his tongue out on the filament, licking the goo, and you and Donna make gagging noises as you groan in disgust.

Then the Doctor shakes his head, “No.”

As he goes to put the filament back, he begins to gag and groan, clutching on your arm and you and Donna begin to panic. “Doctor! What—” You begin to say but then he suddenly stops and stands straight, “No.”

You and Donna whack him on the arm in annoyance with his little joke. He pulls the top drawer and, placing the filament on top, he says, “Clip it into the fold back. Can you do that? Take all the rectangles, move them up there.” The Doctor asks Donna, and she replies, “What does that do?”

The Doctor then explains, “The ship's on neutral for some reason. It’s just idling. We need to get it back on full power.”

He then grabs your hand and begins to drag you away from the room, and Donna calls out, “Well, don’t leave me on my own.” The Doctor spins around with you in his grip as he says, “Donna, there is no one else on board this ship.”

Donna retorts with, “Hostile action, remember?”

As if on cue, a metal clang thumps and creates an echo throughout the room, and Donna asks, “And what’s that?”

The Doctor shakes his head, “A noise.” Donna scrunches her face as she sarcastically replies, “Oh, well, you’re very helpful.”

The Doctor takes a step back with you, and Donna says, “Go on then. And hurry back. You little streak!”

“I need to find the spindle. That’s not like wool. It’s a water pivot.” The Doctor says, and you look back at the Captain’s chair. You tell him, “I’ll try and see if I can access any of the logs.”

The Doctor nods, and you walk off to sit in the pilot’s seat. You hear the Doctor exclaim at the end of the hallway, “That’s it! Can you still hear me?”

You hear Donna yell out, “No,” as you let out a little hum of acknowledgment.

“Good. Good. Won’t be long.” The Doctor says from the spindle room, and you tap the monitor, trying to understand each symbol to see if you can find out what happened during all those years this ship was lost.

You exhale in frustration, conceding defeat in your attempt to access the logs. Slouching back into the chair, you cross your arms, and a visible puff of warm air escapes your mouth with each breath. A slight shiver courses through you, prompting a tighter embrace of your own body, as you curl into a small ball. Surveying the vast empty void at the edge of the universe, there's a profound absence of light, sound, or anything discernible.

Donna enters your field of vision, and you inquire, "You alright? It suddenly got colder." She responds with a nonchalant, "Yeah, 'm fine."

"Already done with the filaments?" you ask incredulously, and Donna hums in affirmation, "Yeah."

Raising your eyebrows, you nod, "Alright then." Donna moves to stand with her back to you, gazing into the abyss. After a brief silence, she asks with a tone void of emotion, "Did you ever miss it?"

"Miss what?" you seek clarification.

"Running away with the Doctor?" She clarifies, and you lean your head back, looking up at the ceiling as you hum in contemplation. Eventually, you settle on, "I did, sometimes... The thrill, the chase, all the excitement... because I often thought to myself, 'What would I give for another run with the Doctor?' or even just to catch a glimpse of him. Then as the years went on when I..." You release a deep breath before continuing, "I realized I didn't miss any of that... I just... I missed him."

"But I couldn't... even the thought of my desires versus the entire universe collapsing. I just— I never thought I would ever see him again." You say and Donna lets you continue, “Now he’s back and… it all feels so surreal. And I fear that there’s going to be a price to pay.”

"My arms are too long," Donna suddenly declares, and you frown, "I don't think so."

"No, seriously, look!" Donna insists, and you divert your gaze from the ceiling to see her facing you. Your eyes widen as her arms appear unusually long and huge in front of you. You jump out of your seat, taking a step back, "What—"

"Star! Star, are you there?" you hear the Doctor call from behind you, and you shout, "Yeah! What about Donna? Is she there?"

Turning around, you rush to the middle of the room to find the Doctor. Donna does the same, and you both clutch each other as you watch the three duplicates move toward you. Fear laces Donna's voice as she asks, "What are they?"

“They’re us,” the Doctor says, and Donna denies it, not wanting to believe as she says, “They’re not us.”

You watch as your clones walk into the room. The Doctor's double says with zero emotion, “The notion of shape is strange.”

Your doppelganger remarks, “It limits. It is limiting.” As it waddles from the other room where Donna once was, a consuming fear sets in. “It limits. Limits everything,” you hear the Donna clone say as it walks forward. The Doctor tries the friendly approach, “Whatever shape you want to take, that’s fine. You can do whatever you want. I just want to say it’s very nice to meet you. I’m the Doctor, this is the Stargazer, and this is Donna.”

Donna chimes in, “So are they.”

As the unknown creatures move a step closer, you three take a step back to the door that leads out to the corridor. The Doctor raises his voice, “If you can just get those bodies to calm down, we can talk. That’ll be nice, don’t you think?”

“They’re looking at us like food,” Donna says, and the fake Doctor says, “Food is interesting. Because once I sort out the arms…” You watch as it stretches back to a normal size, and then it continues, “then I have a problem with the jaw.” The creature-like-Doctor’s jaw stretches down to the floor, and the three of you are wide-eyed in shock, confusion, and fear before it clicks back into place.

“It’s the knees. How many knees?” The other-Donna asks, and your non-Doctor replies, “Two.”

“Two in total, or two in each leg?” The non-Donna asks, and you hear the sound of cracking as it adjusts its knees.

The three of you take a few steps back, and the door behind you opens. The Doctor asks, “Where did you come from? You’re not part of the ship, are you? Did you come from outside?”

“We came from the nothing,” your doppelganger says as it twitches and resets her wrists while stepping forward. “We are No-things,” the Not-Doctor says, and the Not-Donna adds, “But you. You are not nothing.”

The Doctor replies, “Oh, I think you’ll find we’re quite something.” The three of you hastily jump into the transport cart, the Doctor seizing the driver's seat while you and Donna squeeze into the passenger seat as the No-Things pursue you.

Then, a menacing growl echoes from behind. You and Donna glance back to witness the No-Things crawling on all fours, steadily growing larger. Donna exclaims, “Oh, my God, they’re growing!”

“Come on!” The Doctor urges, stepping on the gas and shifting gears. Donna raises her voice, “Go faster!”

“I know!” The Doctor responds, and you feel a slight tug on the back of the cart. Turning around, you see the Not-Doctor gripping it as he crawls. You and Donna grab tools from the back as the redhead declares, “No, you don’t!”

You two start to strike the Not-Doctor's hand, and your Doctor announces, “I can’t control it!”

“You stupid big hand!” Donna yells out in anger, and it eventually releases its grip on the cart, flinging you and Donna forward. The Doctor shouts, “No, no, no, no, no, no!” The cart crashes into a hydraulic pillar but manages to regain control, only for the Not-Donna to throw its hand at the side of the cart, causing you to spin out of control.

The Doctor rips out the steering wheel, and Donna screams as the spinning comes to a halt. You watch as the three No-Things expand and become entangled in each other’s limbs, hissing and growling at you three. The engine sputters as you sit there in shock. Donna then asks uncertainly, “What are they?”

Exiting the vehicle, the cart's frame falls apart, causing a loud clatter. You turn around to see the Doctor approaching the chaotic mess in front of you, and you groan, “Oh, no, don’t!”

“We’ve got to see,” the Doctor says, walking a little forward. The metal groans under the weight of the twisted limbs and squished faces. The Doctor mumbles, “It’s strange enough my face coming back, but not this big.”

“The airlock door three years ago. That’s when they got in,” Donna states with a nod, and the Doctor adds, “No-things. No control of shape. No concept of shape or size.”

“How can they get bigger? ‘Cause you only get a certain amount of mass, don’t you? Shaun used to complain about that watching Venom films. He said, ‘Where’s the extra mass come from?’”

You then recall the chill you felt as you sat in the pilot’s chair, pointing out, “It got colder.”

Donna agrees, nodding as she announces, “Oh, yeah, it got colder for me.”

Glancing back at the No-things, you conclude, “Heat into mass.”

The Doctor builds on that, saying rapidly, “But they’re not just physical copies. They’ve got our thoughts, too. That other Star, she mentioned Gallifrey and Mars.”

“The other Stargazer said, ‘Wilf’,” Donna remembers, pointing to your copy.

“The Not-Donna asked me if I missed all the adventures with the Doctor,” you add with disbelief.

“So they’ve got our memories,” the Doctor concludes, and Donna shudders, “Okay. So they’re copies with memories and mass, but what I don’t get is why do they hate us?”

Suddenly, one of the hands drops onto the metal floor, causing a loud thump, and the three of you jump back, letting out yelps. Donna looks at it with a concerned tone as she says, “That’s my hand.”

The metal begins to creak, and you look around as the Doctor points out, “They’re getting free. We should reason with them. Try to make peace. Welcome them to our side of the universe.”

The No-things roar in anger and disgust, and you flinch. The Doctor takes a step back and remarks, “Maybe later.”

As the three of you turn to run, the Doctor points out the three hexagon panels with steps on them, exclaiming, “I know, I know. Ladder. Do you think? Maybe up there?” You see a small exit hexagon, and Donna shrugs, “Let’s go!”

The Doctor climbs first, leading the way as you and Donna follow him up. But you hear the familiar automated voice resonate throughout the speakers of the ship, “Brate.”

The Doctor groans, “Oh, not now!” The triangle panels begin to flip, and you feel each hexagon shape slide opposite sides. You hear Donna exclaim, “Doctor! Star!”

“It’s okay. I’m right here!” the Doctor says right before the panel flips inwards, and he’s out of view. You watch as Donna slides down from the ladder and into a different area of the ship. Your hexagon moves upwards and flips inwards, flinging you into the interior of the spacecraft. You let out a yelp as you land on your bum, and suddenly the three of you are separated.

Fatigue etches lines of frustration across your face as you wearily rub your eyes with both hands. With a sigh, you push yourself upright, casting a glance down the dimly lit corridor. The soft hum of glowing pipelines provides the only illumination as you traverse the hallway, the occasional hiss of escaping air and steam accompanying your footsteps. Abruptly, a door slams shut behind you, prompting a swift turn of your head. Shaking off the interruption, you continue walking forward in the eerie silence of the spaceship's metallic passageway.

You discover a ladder and descend, the metallic clangs echoing in the confined space. Moving forward, the whirring of systems shutting down and rebooting accompanies your steps. The flickering lights above cast erratic shadows, and as you exhale, your breath materializes in the cold atmosphere.

Finally, you reach a door, stepping out just as the Doctor emerges simultaneously. A moment of uncertainty hangs between you two.

You cautiously take a step back, asking, “Are you—”

The Doctor interjects, “Is it—” A shared pause ensues, and you murmur, “But it got cold.”

“I know I’m me,” you assert with narrowed eyes, and the Doctor affirms, “Well, so am I.”

Frustration flickers across your face as you lick your lips. The Doctor initiates, “Tell me, how did we meet?”

“When?” you inquire.

“The first time we met, how did we meet?” the Doctor specifies.

"At the Academy. What was the color of the sky back on Gallifrey?" you respond, then throw a question back at him.

“Orange sky and trees with silver leaves. That reflected the morning sunlight, making it look like the forests were on fire. You and I would have picnics outside of the Capitol when we didn’t want to show up for class… your eyes would shine like starlight, and I… I knew then that I loved you.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and your bottom lip trembles as you say, “You didn’t say it then.”

“I can say it now,” the Doctor pleads.

You purse your lips, feeling a wavering resolve, and shake your head, “You also hated me back then.” The Doctor shakes his head, attempting to step forward, but you take two steps back, edging closer to the door. “After what I had done. When you found out who I was and where I came from. A rift in time. A supposed observer who interfered with fixed points in time when I had to save everyone. I had to save… you.”

The Doctor begins, “You and I both know it wasn’t your fault. After the Rift, the Time War, and Mars…”

You shake your head, swallowing down your guilt as you take in the way he looks at you. It wasn't him, but the weight of the past bears down on you. Another step back, and this time the Not-Doctor grimaces and says mockingly, “You and your sad backstory. ‘Oh, woe is me! I started an entire war! I altered a fixed point in time! Boo hoo! I should have died.’ Blah, blah, blah. No wonder the Doctor left you on Earth! You are annoying to be with. And you are right about one thing, you should have died! Why didn’t you die? Hmm?”

Gritting your teeth, you head out the door and slam the button shut, running down the corridor. The echoes of harsh words linger in the cold metallic passage. Exhausted, you eventually stop to catch your breath. Sliding down one of the walls, you can't contain the streams of tears flowing down your cheeks. Quiet sobs escape, and you cup your mouth with your hand, trying to muffle the sound, the weight of emotions overwhelming you in the dimly lit corridor.

Taking a deep breath, you try to settle yourself down, a skill you've honed over years of navigating the guilt within. You've learned not to be ashamed of your survival. You did what you had to do, continuously clawing your way out of the ache, cutting through the pain to the bone. It was never going to be pretty, but deep down, you know it will always be worth it.

You bury your head in between your curled-up knees, seeking solace as you take another breath and sniffle. Suddenly, loud banging echoes from a few meters down the hall, and amidst the clamor, you recognize the voice shouting. The Doctor's frustration is palpable as the grunting and banging continue. You remain still, waiting in the silence that follows. When the noise subsides, the Doctor notices you. He comes to a stop, and as he meets your tear-stained gaze and red-rimmed eyes, you say nothing.

Anger seems to cloud the Doctor's expression, evidence of the harsh words exchanged with the Not-You or Not-Donna. Yet, his demeanor softens as he kneels to your level, whispering, "Is it you?"

Weakly, you mumble, "I think you know."

He draws you close, his arms enveloping you, and his warmth provides a comforting embrace. Placing your head on his chest, you admit, "I should have known the it was the Not-Doctor I was speaking to, but I—"

The Doctor shushes you, planting a gentle kiss on the side of your head. "I was tricked too. I'm here now, love. Wasn't your fault." Gently rocking the both of you back and forth, he eventually stands up, offering a hand for you to take and pull yourself up. Moving through the hallway, this time, he doesn't let go.

“Gilvane.”

You find another door, and upon entering, you are met with the peculiar sight of your doppelgangers and potentially the real Donna. As you and the Doctor survey the two sets of clones – one set of you and the other Donna not holding hands – the two Donnas exchange uncertain glances. One Donna breaks the tension with a comment, "I’ve gotta say, this is the biggest nightmare of my life, but… I look quite good."

"I can’t argue," the other Donna adds. The Not-Doctor then points at your Doctor, demanding, “I want to talk to you. You Not-Doctor. I know you’re a fake. I know for a fact. So I want to know why you’re doing this.”

Your Doctor frowns, “That’s what I was gonna say!”

“You should have been faster. ‘Cause that’s me, isn’t it. Fast. Am I fast? Do I talk fast? Yes.” The Not-Doctor rattles off rapidly. Your Doctor retorts, “But you’re a copy of me! You’re only fast because I am.”

“You seriously want to marry this one?” The Not-You asks, and you nonchalantly reply, “Of course you’d know. Spent almost my entire life with him, might as well.”

“Oh, well, I can’t follow any of this. And that is proof. ‘Cause let’s not pretend. I’m the stupid one,” the other Donna interjects, prompting the Doctor to squeeze your hand as he questions, “You think you’re stupid?”

The other Donna replies, “Of course I do.”

“That’s very Donna,” your Doctor says, and the Not-Doctor chimes in, “That’s so Donna. That’s my Donna.”

“Except Donna does not think she’s stupid,” you point out, and the two Donnas say, “Oh, but I do.”

You shake your head, “No. Donna thinks she’s stupid, and sometimes she thinks she’s brilliant. She thinks both. Because that’s the astonishing thing about people from her planet. They can believe two completely different things at exactly the same time.”

After a moment, Donna looks at the both of you with your intertwined hands, grinning, “Brainbox and Stargirl!”

“Earthgirl!” You and the Doctor say in unison as the three of you reunite, sharing a group hug. Suddenly, the sound of cracking fills the air as the No-things begin to stretch. The Doctor swiftly whips out a salt shaker, exclaiming, “But salt! You can’t cross salt. In our universe, it is said that vampires, demons, and ghosts cannot cross a single line of salt until they’ve counted every single grain.” He starts drawing a line of salt in front of you before lifting the shaker up, “You’ve got no choice!”

“But that’s a superstition,” the Not-Doctor says, and your doppelganger adds, “Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“It’s a superstition, and it’s true. Two things at once,” the Doctor asserts, and the Not-Doctor attempts to call him out, “You’re lying.”

Challenging him, the Doctor exclaims, “Then walk towards me. Come on. Stop copying and make your own minds up. Cross the line!”

The Not-Donna glances at your Donna and says, “She doesn’t believe him.”

“But you said I’m stupid,” Donna points out, to which the Not-Donna retorts, “And also brilliant.”

Your Donna sneers at her copy, “Then which one is it, Donna? Cross the line. Or count.”

As if the Not-Donna couldn’t help herself, like an impulse, she gets on her knees and begins to count each grain of salt, mumbling numbers as she does. Now all that stands is the Not-Doctor and the Not-Stargazer who stands there staring at the three of you.

“So tell me. What do you want?” The Doctor asks, to which the Not-Doctor responds, “You tell us.”

“It didn’t get cold this time.” You point out, and Donna agrees, “No, it didn’t, did it?”

“Which means you’re acclimatizing. Your arms are a bit too long. Your mouths are a bit too wide. But are you stabilizing?” The Doctor inquires, and Donna adds, “Like they’re becoming us properly.”

“I just wonder why.” Your Doctor says aloud, and the Not-Stargazer singsongs, “Why?”

Donna realizes something as she says, “Because the TARDIS will come back for us. They know that. So if they become completely us, the TARDIS will come back for them.”

“Is that what you want? Escape?” The Doctor asks with his hands in his pockets. Suddenly the tone of the Not-Doctor shifts and explains, “We drifted here. In the lack of light. Passing no-time.”

Your copy continues, “But we would feel it. From so far away. Your noisy, boiling universe.”

“We want to travel there. To play your vicious games and win.” The Not-Doctor says with a grave tone.

You frown as you say, “If you existed here with no shape, no form, no purpose, then what’s made you so bad?”

The Not-Stargazer replied with eyes devoid of emotion, “The things we felt, they shaped us. Carrying across the dark. We could hear your lives of war. And blood and fury and hate. They made us like this.”

“We are more than that.” Donna spits out, and the Not-Donna says, “Love letters don’t travel very far. And neither do your lies.” She then blows the line of salt away, and you three step backward as your clones begin to have sharp teeth as they hiss and growl at you.

You feel your back against the wall, and suddenly the automated voice can be heard once more, “Stond.”

The lights flicker as the panel behind you begins to flip you three around, clicking and clattering, and Donna remarks, “That’s lucky.”

But the panel flips you back to where you were, and Donna whispers, “Or not.”

“Run?” The Doctor asks, and you and Donna agree, “Run!”

You sprint through the corridor, timing it perfectly as one of the doors manages to stall them before you re-enter the captain's area. The Doctor gestures a hand and says, “Come on!”

After pressing a few switches, a glass panel slides down from above, dividing you three from the No-things. As they stare at you three, Donna asks, “Why? I don’t understand why. What are they scaring us for?”

“Problem is, ten minutes ago they’d have ripped that door off its hinges. Now they’re just standing there. Locking into shape. Almost complete,” the Doctor comments, and Donna presses, “Yes, but if you just listen to my question, thank you very much. Why are they making us so scared? If they wanna copy us, why don’t they just sit in a corner and do it? Why terrorize us?”

The Doctor’s face lights up and says, “That’s a very good question.”

“Yes. I’m brilliant.” Donna says while bouncing on her tip toes.

“Why provoke us? Unless… that’s how it’s done. The more scared we are, the more blood pumps. Hypothalamus. Adrenaline. We think faster and faster and faster.” The Doctor says as the pieces begin to click.

“It makes us easy to copy.” You remark, and the Doctor takes a step towards the glass as he says, “Goosebumps, like braille. You’re reading us. Is that right?”

“Well, what do we do? How do we stop ‘em? Stop being scared?” Donna asks urgently, and the Doctor says, “Like the ship all ticking over in neutral. Donna, stop thinking.”

Donna laughs nervously, “Well, that’s easy for me. What about you two?”

You look at the Doctor as you pull your lips to the side, “Took up meditation for a bit, so the only one with that problem is him.”

The Doctor takes a deep breath and says, “Just calm. Just cool.”

“Yeah, I’m calm.” Donna says with a deep inhale, and the Doctor comments, “Even calmer.”

“Well, you do it too.” Donna says, and the Doctor exclaims back, “I am!”

Donna grits her teeth, “Mmm. Stop rattling me!”

“Will you two just shut up!” You say.

The Doctor softly says, “Slow. Slow heartbeat. If we’re slow, they can’t read us.”

“Okay.” Donna says, and the Doctor replies, “Good. Shhh.”

After a few moments of complete silence, Donna asks, “For how long?” And the Doctor replies, “Uh, there’s a flaw in the plan.”

The Not-Doctor decides to bait him by asking, “How can you not think on a ship full of questions? Why the empty chair?”

Not-Stargazer adds on and asks, “Why do the walls keep moving?”

Not-Doctor asks, “What are the words in the air?”

Not-Donna asks again, “Why did the airlock open and close three years ago?”

You and Donna say simultaneously, “Don’t.”

Your Doctor begins to protest, “But—”

Both of you are firm as you say, “Don’t. Stop it.”

Then a sudden loud metal clang rings out once more, and the Not-Doctor asks, “And what is that?”

“Doctor, stop thinking.” You warn but eventually the Doctor relents and groans as he says, “Let me think. Let me think.”

The No-things begin to chant creepily, “Think! Think! Think! Think!”

The Doctor moves to a few switches and buttons on the wall and begins to press and pull each of them as he says, “What is making that noise?”

The rooftop panel whirs as it slides open, revealing a glass roof, and the three of you look up, and the Doctor says, “There.”

You watch as a creature in a spacesuit floats in space with no helmet, the skull of what once was. You frown, and the metal hook clangs as it thumps against the glass. “The Captain of the ship.” You say somberly, and the Doctor adds, “Circling round and round forever. Caught in the gravity field.”

“Caught in the what?” Donna asks, and you quickly clarify, “Mavity field.”

“But why? Did they throw him out? Her out. Them out.” Donna says with a breathy voice, and the Doctor says, “Her. I wonder. Why is the captain outside? Why is she in a spacesuit with no helmet?” He turns around to face the No-things and catches their expressions, he says, “And why don’t you know?”

The Doctor moves closer to the glass as he looks at the Not-Doctor; he growls as he says, “I know that face. I know my expressions very, very well, and you don’t know. The captain did something you don’t understand, but what?” The No-things begin to say, “Tell us! Tell us! What did she do? What did the Captain do? What did she do?”

You move to stand next to the Doctor as he says, “They don’t know. They really don’t know. The questions aren’t a test. They need the answers. We’re all stuck in a system because of the Captain.” He groans as he jumps up and asks, “What did she do?”

Donna shakes her head and points out, “Well, if they want the answers, don’t tell ‘em!”

“You know what my head’s like, Donna, once I start having ideas.” The Doctor explains, and the Not-Doctor interjects, “Then I have ideas. So the captain…” Not-Donna looks at him and finishes, “Tried to stop us. But how?”

“Wait a minute.” Donna begins, “If they don’t know why the Captain’s outside… The airlock door three years ago wasn’t them coming in. That was her going out. She killed herself.”

“But what for?” The No-things ask in unison from behind the glass.

The Not-Doctor says, “She hid her thoughts.” And the Not-Stargazer explains, “So we couldn’t see.”

You watch as the Doctor’s expression turns to understanding, the final bits of information making sense in his head. His mouth opens in a silent gasp as he exclaims loudly, “Maximised automatic brain function! Oh! Well done, Captain. Because she knew. Even with a lost ship, if you were found one day, if you three ever reached the universe, you’d run riot across the stars!”

Your eyes widen in realization, adding, “And you were already becoming copies of the captain. You’d have owned this spaceship. If you’d copied her perfectly, you could’ve flown the ship home and started your war!”

The Doctor points out, “So, she ended her life to hide whatever it is she left behind. Because when she died, you hadn’t completed her. So you lost everything she knew. Gone.”

The lights flicker as clicking and clattering sound throughout the ship, and Donna asks, “What is that?”

The Doctor runs around animatedly, beginning to explain, “That captain, calm as a Zen master, set in motion to stop those three. And she took her own life so they couldn’t work out what she’d done.”

The Not-Doctor grins, “But you’re working it out right now.”

The Doctor shakes his head as he denies it, “No, I’m not. Mm-mmm.”

The Not-Stargazer smiles as she tilts her head, “Yes, you are, and so is she. Therefore, so am I.”

You bite your lip and try to calm your racing thoughts, standing next to Donna for support. Then you hear the Not-Doctor begin to say, “It’s all about slow. We don’t understand the slow, so the captain set out to slowly stop us. So the ship is slow. The robot is slow. The words are slow. Is that it?”

You see the Doctor holding it in as he bounces out the energy, and he shakes his head, “Nope.”

The Not-Doctor continues, “The words move the walls, so the ship is slowly reconfiguring to become a very slow…” The Doctor finishes the sentence for everyone, “Bomb.”

“What?” Donna asks with a high-pitched tone, and the Not-Doctor explains rapidly, “The captain set the self-destruct slowly so the words are a very slow… countdown.”

The Doctor groans out in frustration as he throws his arms up in the air, “I said so! I said countdown straight away! It’s that simple.” He sighs, “I translated the numbers. I’d never heard them out loud! ‘Fenslaw, coliss, brate,’ means ten, nine, eight.”

The Not-Doctor turns to the Not-Donna and says, “The robot.” The three of them move to the door that leads to the long hallway, and as it opens, the Doctor flicks a switch to lock it.

The Not-Doctor glares at you, “We’re as clever as you now. That robot won’t stop us!” It begins to flick a few buttons and switches by the nearby control panel next to the door. You and the Doctor move about the area, flicking switches to try to override the system they were trying to break.

Donna quickly asks you two, “So, what’s the robot?” And you reply, “The robot is the trigger. A primitive mechanical brain that those two couldn’t read, taking three long years to walk a very long corridor with one slow instruction.”

“Kaboom.” The Doctor finishes as he twists a few knobs before pressing a button, and Donna says, “Countdown. What number are we on?”

“Ratico. That’s five.” The Doctor says as he slams his palm on the button, closing the door once more, “It’s been counting down for years, but the TARDIS brought us here just in time for the final sequence! We can’t let them reach that robot. There’s only one way we can stop them.”

You move about to flick a few more switches and rapidly slam your palm against a few more buttons as the Not-Doctor, Not-Donna, and Not-Stargazer begin to rip out different wires. “What’s that?” Donna asks, and you hear the Doctor say, “I’m sorry, Donna. But the countdown needs to speed up.” The Doctor then slams his palm on the button, and an alarm begins to sound along with the automatic voice, “Vandeen.”

Donna begins to panic as she yelps, “That’s number four!”

“We know!” You and the Doctor say, and Donna shrieks, “But we’re still on board!” To which you both reply in unison once more, “We know!”

But then the No-things manage to get the door open, you hear the Not-Doctor say, “Stop that robot!” To which your Doctor says as he presses a button that lifts the glass divider, “Don’t stop that robot!”

“Could the robot just wait!” Donna says as she runs after both of you.

“Blinss.”

“That’s three!” Donna says as she pushes her legs faster to try and catch up to you. Suddenly, the Not-Stargazer turns around and hisses at the Doctor, throwing herself on him to try to stop him, but he shoves her aside only for her to attack you.

Donna slows down a moment as you wrestle with your double, and you yell to Donna, “Keep going!” The redhead nods and keeps running, following the Doctor. You manage to get the upper hand as you maneuver your weight and lock your knees to her waist, saying, “For some odd reason, this is going to be theraputic.”

You smack her across the face, tumbling off the No-thing, and proceed to run after the Doctor and Donna.

“Sensill.”

“That’s two!” Donna announces from in front of you as you feel your lungs expand and deflate while running after them. But then, you're taken down by the Not-Stargazer from behind, and you shout out in pain as you roll on the floor with her.

As you wrestle yourself to the ground, you hear the TARDIS whizzing as it floats down, playing the song Wild Blue Yonder. The lyrics and the music echo, “Off we go into the wild blue yonder. Climbing high into the sun.”

The Doctor snatches his sonic screwdriver from the keyhole and steps into the TARDIS with Donna climbing inside, pushing it forward with his foot like a scooter towards you and your double. As the Doctor and the TARDIS are in front of you, you hear the automated voice echo, “One.”

The Doctor's voice reverberates, urgent and probing, “What was my nickname at the Academy?”

“Theta Sigma.” The simultaneous reply from both you and the Not-Stargazer hangs in the air. The Doctor scrutinizes both of you, his keen eyes flickering between your faces. His next question pierces the tension, “What happened on Trenzalore?”

“Nine hundred years of battle and that’s where you were buried,” The Not-Stargazer asserts confidently, a sense of triumph coloring her words. However, your gaze remains distant, memories of Trenzalore flooding your mind, and you avert your eyes from the Doctor's penetrating gaze. He swiftly ushers you into the TARDIS, slamming the door shut.

As the flames engulf the three No-things, their screams echo in the air. The TARDIS whooshes away, leaving behind the burning remnants. The three of you huddle on the floor inside the time machine, wrapped in a comforting embrace.

THE TARDIS — SPACE

After the intense ordeal with the No-things, a collective decision is made to refresh and rejuvenate. In the soothing confines of the TARDIS, you find a moment to cleanse yourself from the recent events. The warm water cascades over you in the shower, washing away the remnants of the unsettling encounter. Drying your hair, you change into a fresh set of clothes, embracing the renewal that accompanies the change.

Exiting the room, you traverse the winding corridors of the TARDIS, making your way to the control room. The Doctor, having already cleaned himself up, is engrossed in the myriad buttons and switches that adorn the console. As you approach, he turns, a warm smile gracing his features, “Hello, love.”

With a hum, you encircle your arms around his waist, and he reciprocates by wrapping his arms around you. A tender exchange of glances unfolds as you gaze up at him. Offering a small smile, you inquire, “How did you know it was me?”

“You could never bring yourself to talk about what happened that day. Not once after that, you never mentioned it again,” he replies. Pressing your forehead against his chest, you take a deep breath, absorbing his freshly cleaned scent.

“I know you were the one who saved me and brought me to Earth after the Time War,” you admit. He furrows his brow, “How did you figure that out?”

Sighing, you recount, “The No-thing appeared as you when we got separated and said some really hurtful things... but he also mentioned you were the one who brought me to Earth. You saved me. All those years ago…”

The Doctor exhales before planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head, “You saved me. It was only fair.”

“I love you,” you declare, feeling his smile against your forehead. “I love you too.”

"She'd almost completed you," the Doctor shared, his gaze fixed on Donna as she joined them at the console. "The other Donna was a 99.9% copy. Except I thought, 'What's wrong?' Turned out her wrist had an extra 0.06 millimeters. Obvious, really."

Donna, hands resting on the controls while you expertly pilot the TARDIS, quipped, "The devil's in the details," and the Doctor agreed with a nod, "Yeah, isn't it just?"

After a brief pause, he mused, "Oh, I keep thinking, 'I wish I hadn't done that thing with the salt.'"

Donna shook her head, dismissing it, "What, the bad luck thing? That was just a lie."

"Normally. Except I invoked a superstition at the edge of the universe, where the walls are thin and all things are possible," the Doctor explained with a slightly shaken tone. "I just got this feeling."

“What?” Donna inquired, and the Doctor, after a momentary space-out, shook it off, saying, “Which is gone. Fine. Good. Onwards.”

The Doctor moved to pilot alongside you, adjusting knobs as he continued, “So anyway. I was wondering, she said on the spaceship— That other Donna had your memory. She could remember us as the DoctorDonna. So she could see my life and my mind and my thoughts for the past fifteen years. All the time we’ve been apart, she could remember it. Can you?”

Donna blinked, contemplating, and replied, “No. It’s too much. It’s like looking into a furnace. But I suppose she had a great, big, outer-space brain. She could make sense of it.”

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully, “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Why?” Donna probed, and the Doctor mumbled, “Just wondering.”

“What did she see?” Donna persisted, and the Doctor, puffing out his cheeks, evasively said, “Ooh. Things.”

“Like what?”

The Doctor remained silent, prompting Donna to push further, “Come on. Where have you been since I last saw you? What’s happened?” Attempting to shrug it off, he nonchalantly said, “Oh, you know, the usual. Robots, chases, waterfalls.”

Donna mockingly nodded, “Oh, okay,” before giving him a scrutinizing look and asking, “But what really happened?”

The Doctor's expression turned sad and tired as he admitted, “A lot.”

Donna nodded in understanding, then turned to her friend and asked, “You okay?”

The Doctor, opting for candor, grasps your hand, affirming, “I will be.”

“When?” Donna inquires, tilting her head, and the Doctor responds, “A million years.”

The TARDIS emits a pleasant ding, signifying your arrival as it materializes. The Doctor, wearing a contented smile, notes, “Ah. There we are, back home.”

Donna strides towards the TARDIS doors, commenting, “You timed that to get out of awkward conversations.” She then rushes down the bridge, calling out, “Where are they? Where’s the family?”

As you prepare to step out, the Doctor playfully pulls you back, encircling your waist with his arms, prompting a delighted squeal, “Doctor!”

“Wait, I have a present for you,” he announces, positioning you by the console. With a gentle push, a concealed compartment reveals a new sonic screwdriver—silver and gold with an ergonomically designed handle. Overwhelmed with excitement, you bounce up and down, unable to contain your joy. Seizing the Doctor's face, you plant a passionate kiss on his lips, and in that moment, the Doctor melts into the warmth of the affectionate embrace.

“My own sonic screwdriver. Thank you.” You say to him as he gives you a grin, “Consider it as a wedding present.”

You lightly smack his chest and say, “I expect a proper proposal, Doctor.”

He kisses your cheek, “Of, course dear.”

CAMDEN MARKET, LONDON — MORNING, 2023

Intertwining your hands, you and the Doctor emerge from the TARDIS, greeted by Donna and Wilf. Donna beams triumphantly, exclaiming, “I said so!”

Wilf gasps, hand covering his mouth in shock, while the Doctor grins, “Wilfred Mott. Oh, now I feel better.” Wilfred erupts in delighted laughter as you and the Doctor approach him, enveloping him in a warm hug. The Doctor affirms, “Now, nothing is wrong. Nothing in the whole wide world.”

Stepping back, the Doctor smiles broadly, addressing Wilf, “Hello, my old soldier.”

“I never thought I’d see you two again after all these years. Oh, the Doctor, that lovely face. It’s like springtime,” Wilf chuckles, and the Doctor nods to Donna, remarking, “And Donna’s got her memory back.”

“Without dying, which I recommend,” Donna adds with a smile. However, you hear distant sirens, not giving them much thought. Wilf grins, “Yeah, well, I knew it. I never lost faith. I said, ‘He won’t let us down. He’ll come back and save us.’”

Both you and the Doctor frown, and he questions, “Save us from what?”

Donna asks anxiously, “And where’s the family? Where’s Rose? Are they all right?”

Wilf reassures Donna with animated gestures, “Yeah, they’re fine. They’re safe. I’ve told them to bunker down, and I’ll keep watch. I said, ‘You save yourselves.’”

Your eyebrows knit in concern as you ask, “Why? Is there something wrong?”

Right on cue, the food truck in the background erupts in flames, people shouting and screaming, chaos ensuing. More people join in the madness, hitting each other, and the Doctor queries, “What’s going on?”

The tumult intensifies, with people shouting and cursing, and Donna implores, “What is it? What’s happening?”

Wilf attempts to explain, “It’s everybody. It’s everything. They’re all going mad. Listen, you’ve got to do something, Doctor! The whole world’s coming to an end!”

As an airplane approaches, its engines emitting smoke, people scream and clamour. The plane crashes in the distance, prompting the Doctor to swiftly move Wilf's wheelchair to the front of the TARDIS, shouting, “Quickly!”

Taking cover, the four of you shield yourselves from the ensuing blast, and amidst the chaos, you can't help but wonder if the kiss was somehow connected to this impending disaster.

TAGLIST:

@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @matthew-lilards @a-dash-of-cinnamon @imthedoctorlove @scoliobean @allophonicmess @mirkwoodshewolf @jaziona92 @melloww-akira @crowleythesexydemon @pedrettilov3r

#14th doctor x fem reader #14th doctor x fem!reader #14th doctor x reader #14th doctor #fourteenth doctor #doctor who #10th doctor #doctor who special #wild blue yonder #ethereal writes #david tennant #catherine tate #doctor who 60th anniversary #dw 60th #donna noble #tenth doctor #doctor who x reader #fourteen x reader

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

Text

You'll be a great dad - Tsu'tey one-shot

summary: tsu'tey is overwhelmed with anxiety and fear upon hearing the news of his mate's pregnancy and becoming a father, but like a good friend, jake is there to calm him down

wc: 1.3k

contains: just reader being pregnant, jake and tsu'tey are bros

a/n: ahh, i missed writing so much, i had to post another fluff today. esp after finishing the unrequited series, i can't let go of tsu'tey and the idea of dad!tsu'tey, so you must suffer with me. replies and reblogs are requireeed

masterlist

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Tsu’tey paced around the lab with a concerned look on his face, making Jake feel slightly dizzy. It was already chaotic enough with the kids running around and touching everything they weren’t supposed to, so Tsu’tey’s restlessness only added to Jake’s headache.

“Tsu’tey, for the love of God, can you please sit down?” he asked tiredly, running a hand through his hair.

Tsu’tey shot him an angry glare, but eventually complied and slowed his frenzied pacing. He sank onto an empty bed beside Jake, his eyes glazing over as he absentmindedly watched Lo’ak drag Kiri by her kuru, eliciting a high-pitched squeak from her. The bickering between the kids and Jake’s raised voice attempting to separate them faded into the background as Tsu’tey's mind raced with worry for you. Something wasn't right.

It had been two days since you decided to be a little adventurous and try some of the sky people's food, egged on by Jake. Tsu’tey had warned you to stay away from it, but as you disobeyed, you were suffering the consequences that same night, and the night after that. And it wasn’t going away, which made Tsu’tey grow increasingly frightened.

You had a restless night, tossing and turning with waves of nausea until you finally vomited early in the morning. Tsu’tey couldn’t help but snicker at you for not heeding his warnings, and lectured you about how nothing good came from the sky people and that you should have known better. But when the vomiting persisted into the next day, his amusement quickly washed away making place for worry. He insisted that you saw Tsahik, but despite her doubts, it was still too early to tell anything. So, when Jake suggested taking you to the lab, with no other options left, Tsu’tey reluctantly agreed. He didn’t trust it, but he was desperate to see you back on your feet and sleeping soundly beside him at night.

“Why are they taking her blood?” he asked protectively, as he glared through the glass window into the room where you were seated, your arm extended and a needle piercing your skin.

“To run a few tests, figure out what’s wrong,” Jake explained with a calm voice, placing a comforting hand on Tsu’tey’s shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, it’s normal.”

Tsu’tey hummed but it wasn’t like he could calm his nerves. Time seemed to drag on endlessly as they kept you in the back room, running test after test. And even seated next to Jake, Tsu’tey couldn’t stop tapping his foot in annoyance. His eyes wandered over to the three kids, Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Kiri, who were playing around with one of the large machines. They were pressing buttons that didn’t light up like on the other equipment, and Tsu’tey smiled weakly, assuming that it must not be working.

“Lo’ak, play nice,” Jake warned his youngest, then turned to look at Tsu’tey, “I swear, ever since he was born, I started finding gray hair all over my head.”

“At the rate he’s going, you’ll be back with Eywa in no time,” Tsu’tey joked for the first time in a day, “Give it a few more years.”

“Be careful what you wish for, buddy. If that happens, you'll have to step up and help Neytiri with the kids as their uncle,” Jake chuckled with an amused tone.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Tsu’tey grinned, “I’ll make sure those little monsters learn how to hunt properly. Not the way their daddy taught them.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. Their banter was cut short when Norm walked into the room with a quick, “Good, you guys are still here.” Immediately, Tsu’tey rose to his feet, his ears and tail perked up in alert. Jake stood up too, eyeing the thick folder in Norm’s hands.

"What is wrong with her? Is she alright?" Tsu’tey asked with a frown, urging Norm to speak.

“Yes, she is alright, don’t worry," Norm answered calmly, bringing a slight relief to the two men, "We got her blood work back, ran some tests, and everything is normal."

“Where is she?”

“She's in the back room, taking a nap,” Norm shrugged, “She was exhausted, so we let her rest for a while.” “Yes, she hasn’t slept for two nights,” Tsu’tey grumbled in annoyance.

“Was it food poisoning?” Jake interjected.

Norm tensed up slightly, biting the inside of his cheek, as if he was holding back information. Tsu’tey and Jake exchanged a look, waiting for Norm to continue.

“No, not food poisoning,” he finally answered, “But it’s better if she knows first.”

“Talk,” Tsu’tey ordered with a stern voice, not known to tolerate any ambiguity. Especially not when it concerned your health.

“I’ll have to talk to her, it’s kind of personal,” Norm said sheepishly.

“Spill it,” the man took a step closer, his tone intimidating. Jake rushed to step in between the two, placing a hand on Norm’s shoulder to defuse the tension.

“What is it, Norm?”

“Nothing’s wrong, it's just that I think she should be the first to know...” he trailed off.

“Oh,” Jake’s face lit up with realization, “Is she…?”

Norm nodded, backing away from Tsu’tey.

“What? What's going on?” Tsu’tey demanded, growing more agitated by the second.

“I think he means that Y/N is pregnant,” Jake said, grinning from ear to ear.

Tsu’tey looked in between them a few times, struggling to process the information. He turned to Norm again, pointing at the papers in his hands.

“So, is she healthy?”

“Yes, everything looks good,” Norm said, “Congratulations, man.”

“You’re going to be a dad,” Jake chimed in, squeezing Tsu’tey’s shoulders with an encouragement.

Content with Norm’s answer that you were alright, Tsu’tey hardly registered anything else past that. The men stared at him in anticipation to say something, anything, about your pregnancy, but Tsu’tey remained silent, unable to form a coherent response.

“Well, aren’t you happy?” Jake nudged him.

“About what?”

“About Y/N being pregnant?” Jake let out a chuckle of disbelief.

Tsu’tey frowned, taking a seat on the bed again. His mind was in a whirlwind of thoughts at the news, chest tightening with anxiety of becoming a father. The distant screams of the Sully kids were like the high-pitched screeches of Toruk to his ears, only adding to the panic he felt. He was not ready to be responsible for a new life, and there were so many things to prepare.

Norm mumbled something about checking on you, and Jake nodded before taking a seat next to his friend. While it was unusual to see Tsu'tey so zoned out, Jake could understand how scary the thought might have seemed to him.

“Aren’t you happy? I’m sure you thought about having kids with Y/N before.”

“I have,” Tsu’tey confirmed with a nod.

“Then this shouldn't be as much of a surprise to you, right? I mean, if you didn’t hold back…” Jake teased with a knowing smile.

“You and your disgusting sky people talk,” he spat in annoyance.

“But seriously, man, it might seem scary but it’s actually not,” Jake gestured at his kids, who were now occupied with Grace’s old diary logs, “All you have to do is keep them fed and play with them a couple of times a day, and they’re happy. And once they stop breastfeeding, they might even notice that they have a dad too.”

Tsu’tey smiled at his words weakly, grateful for the reassurance. Sure, he was still anxious about messing it up and not being a good father, but he couldn’t help the excitement starting to bubble up in his chest.

“I mean, even my kids like you, so I think you’ll be a great dad, Tsu’tey,” Jake patted his shoulder with a toothy grin, “And Y/N will be a wonderful mother. Seriously, your kid would be lucky to have you two as parents.” “Thank you, Jake Sully,” Tsu’tey stood up with a sparkle in his eyes, “I’ll go find her.”

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taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @minjix @nilrilie @jakes-babygirl @grierpilots @suntizme @jakesully-sbabygirl @mechformers @lovedbychoi @netemoon @live-laugh-neteyam @jakesullylongjuiscyshlong @misscaller06 @darkacademictrash @itszmedawn @arminsgfloll @kireysii @crustskullz

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whimsicalwritingsandmore · 1 month

Text

Chaotic Good | ateez x reader

Pairing: ateez x reader

Genre: drama, au, romance, revenge

Warnings: being pushed off a bridge

Word Count: 1442 words

a/n: hi! so, this is a random idea that came to mind a while ago. honestly, I'm not 100% sure the direction I want to take this yet. this is just a draft of what came to mind. as such, I would really appreciate your feedback on it!! Comments, reblogs, or if you'd like to PM or send an ask to give your thoughts would mean a lot to me because I like the idea, but I'm not sure where to take it/if it could get confusing. Thank you for reading! <3

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Out of breath, you limp along in the tunnel, suppressing the shivers and fear that coils in your stomach.

Your heart is hammering in your chest erratically with dread twisting in your gut and your throat tightening with terror. As you came to a clearing, the sky above you were unnaturally dark with layers of gigantic and heavy dark clouds giving off an ominous and threatening feeling. The misty haze that surrounded you was like a veil bringing with it a feeling of menace and dread while the wind seemed to escalate in strength and rattled the branches of the trees. There was a flickering of white light bursting across the sky and in the distance, thunder rumbled like the echo of a drum.

Glancing around at your surroundings, you notice that you’re on a broken bridge with caution tape plastered across the railings. You’re battered and bloodied, your clothes torn and pain surges through your body - a searing and grating ache that causes you to grit your teeth in agony and close your eyes tightly. Your hair is frazzled and deep down, amidst all the anguish, you’re silently praying for someone to find you and save you.

Suddenly, a car approaches you, its headlight blinding you from seeing who it is. A figure steps out, beautifully dressed in contrast to you. Her high heels are a glossy black and her dress is an eye-catching and short blood red dress. Her neck and arms are adorned in beautiful gold jewellery but if you look closer, those jewels are yours.

As she approaches you, lightening flashes through the sky and cuts through the darkness like a camera flash while a thunderous echo brings forth a shower of rain that drenches the two of you in no time. Under the bridge, the sea boils and churns with crested waves hurling against the large boulders.

You were beginning to get delirious as the pain began to rob you of any rational thinking. With tears pooling at the rims of your eyes, you shallowly breath in a breathe before speaking to the person in front of you.

“Why?” You ask meekly, “Why are you doing this?”

The girl in front of you gloats evilly and as she steps right in front of you, she slaps you hard.

“They’re mine,” she sneers, “You don’t deserve any of what you have.”

Love, adoration, affection and respect. You have won hearts from around the world in an instant ever since you started your career. You are a part of the group Ateez and while being the only female member brought forth a fair share of criticism and controversy, many fans fondly regarded you for being yourself - your talent shining through every time you took the stage and it was inspiring to all those who would be in the crowd. All eight boys love you dearly, notably Yunho, who was the first to pursue you.

But the person on this bridge with you, who is supposed to be your best friend, the one you thought you could trust - is actually a wolf in sheep’s clothing - a snake in the grass. Initially, she supported you dearly but you noticed a shift in her behaviour after returning from the European leg of the tour. She began to flirt with your boyfriends and get extremely close. She would borrow your things and never return them, forcing you to ask back for it constantly.

When you confronted her, she accused you of jealousy and told the boys about it. They stood up for you but then, strange things began to happen. You found yourself in scandals one right after the other, the worst being when a news outlet got wind of one of Yunho’s deepest secrets that only you and the boys knew. As much as you tried to defend yourself, Yunho refused to look at you, and the next thing you knew, an article released an exclusive about Yunho and your friend, who were both seen together sharing a kiss.

Yunho contends it was a drunken mistake but to help bury the hatchet of all the sudden scandals surrounding the group, the company confirms the two of them are dating - that they have known each other for a long time and have begun getting to know each other more intimately. Heartbroken and devastated, you yell at Yunho seeking answers but all he tells you that maybe it’s for the best right now, if you didn’t create all these problems, he wouldn’t have to pretend. The others are torn and spend less time with you outside of practice.

And now, here you are, your friend Ara grabs your hair and pushes you harshly towards the broken railings. Your head begins to spin and you feel yourself moving in and out of consciousness. The colour was drained from your face, and fresh terror began to rear up within you. Your body was beginning to feel numb and you didn’t dare move as fear and anxiety eclipsed your thoughts.

“You won’t get away with this,” you cry out, “The heavens above see you for the monster that you are.”

“I already have gotten what I wanted,” she snips sharply, “And no one will take it away from me. Heaven would have to send someone better than me, and honestly? There isn’t anyone.”

Laughing maniacally, she pushes you hard and you feel the edges of the broken railing cutting your skin. Before you can even register what happens, you’re already falling. Time seems to slow down as memories of your life flashes across until you plunge in the deep, icy cold and roaring waters.

Thunder boomed throughout the sky, shaking everything to its core with the trees thrashing and writhing against the fierce winds while you sank to the bottom of the ocean, completely alone.

Goddess Persephone watches in anger and fury at the events that just occurred while her husband Hades remains pensive. Rage is thrumming through her veins and her irritation crackled with her temper sparking.

Many years ago when you were a baby, during the Spring Equinox, your parents, who were anthropologists, visited the temple of Demeter in Eleusis and prayed for your protection for years and years to come. Goddess Persephone was enamoured by your innocence and accepted you like her own, watching over you since then.

“This cannot happen.” she seethes.

“There is nothing we can do,” Hades responds, “Fata viam invenient.”

“No,” Persephone states, “That girl has haughtily challenged Fate itself. She believes she is higher than the Fates. I will not condone it.”

Hades sideyes Persephone recognizing the resolution in her voice.

“So what do you propose should happen?”

Persephone remains quiet for a minute before signalling a maid, “Find our daughter. Tell her she has a quest.”

Meanwhile, in a beautifully decorated, dimly-lit room, a young girl awakens from her slumber. As she stretches, she gazes around her room before slowly making her way out of bed. She drapes on her favourite ebony silk robe before exiting, taking the glass of orange juice that is already waiting for her. As she strolls down the golden hallway, those who are passing by bow before her. And then, a maid runs up to her.

“Your Mother wants to see you.”

Taken aback the girl responds, “What for?”

“You have a quest.”

“I don’t want a quest.” The girl states matter of factly towards her parents.

“Too bad. You’re doing it.” Hades responds blankly.

“Mommm, why are you sending me on a quest? Why can’t you send my brother?”

“Because Y/N, only you can fulfil this mission.”

Persephone gestures towards the crystal ball in the middle of the room. As she touches it, flashes of memories run across until the last one - the one at the bridge fades into the cloudy mist.

The girl is taken aback at the mistreatment you have incurred and turns to her mother with concern.

“She looks just like me…and she has the same name.”

“I named you after her. Her mother and father brought her to your Grandmother’s temple many years ago. You were born not too long after.”

“Why does she look like me?”

“The Fates work in mysterious ways so for that I cannot explain,” Persephone answers, “Nevertheless, we can use it to our advantage. I’m sending you to earth, you will take her place for now.”

“And do what exactly?”

Persephone turns to her daughter, an exact look-alike of you. Truly, it could possibly be considered a marvel to witness. The daughter of Hades and Persephone was an exact carbon copy of you.

Persephone smiles at her before declaring unapologetically.

“Seek revenge.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #poly ateez x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #poly!ateez

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skylerfurmaniac-deactivated · 1 year

Text

Rules and Description :P

Hi! I"m Skylerfurmaniac! Or Skyler/Sky for short (if you wanna ask me a question). And welcome to my blog (also sorta ask blog but it isn't really much of one anymore, but you can still do it! I love getting asks)! This blog is where I reign and spread my chaos and love to people lol. I'm just a chaotic little rainbow furbean >:3! My pronouns are they/them, and I'm omnisexual/romantic!!

I LOVE IF YOU MAKE ART OF ME OR MY OC'S OR MY SPAMTON YOU HAVE FULL PERMISSION TO DO IT, NO NEED TO ASK I LOVE ANY ART THAT IS FOR ME <3

Rules of the blog:

things you WILL get ban for:

NSFW asks or stuff that are similar. You can make jokes, but nothing too weird

Being rude to any community in the asks. Such as furry community, lgbtqia+, or black etc.

Asking for personal information

faking to be someone famous and try to make them look bad/ if you start to not respect my distance or stuff. If you aren't my friend and start asking for a lot of stuff or stuff I don't share with strangers

pls, if you want to vent to me or something, you can dm me, but pls don't do it in the asks or send like self harm photos

And that's everything! If you follow these, then you will have a very fun time here! I will make sure to respect everyone who asks something in this blog, but I may tease you, just a warning.

*BYE!!

Edit: I kinda forgot to put some stuff about myself, soooo

Hi! You already know my name and pronouns, But I want to put some personality stuff in here

I also will not be doing commissions, too much work for me right now. But, if you want, I love to do an art trade! But at some moments, I may not be able to due to what's going on, or I have too many art trades.

Secondly,

BRO HE'S COOL (and cute) OKAY

And thirdly, I have a second blog that interacts more with @drowninnoodles, @thenocturnenarrator, @tranquil-slaughterhouse, @ludrii-alt, & more! Some people didn't really like what I was posting with them, So I made an alt. account. If you want to follow that one, it's called @hellagang

edit:

I really like making new friends, so don't be shy to ask!

Also, tell me if you like picrew, cus i do them here and there, and I would like to tag you!

link to all my art repost! (lol don't use that its kinda weird, I have an art tag now XD)

Edit: lol I forgot about my tags I know this is a newer edit then the next one, but I feel like it should be put here

sooo my tags!

#skyler's art: my art!

#sky's chaotic reblogs: my reblogs from other people lol

#sky's random rambles: just random stuff I say

#sky's serious reblogs: the more serious of reblogs

#not my art: reblogs I make that aren't my art

#skyler/Skyler art!!!!/skyler's ref/FANART!: lol art of my persona that other people made of me or stuff that I made of my persona :D

#skyler's gremlin mode activated: IM REALLY HAPPY AND EXCITED OR HYPERACTIVE OF THIS POST AND I REALLY LOVE XDD

yeah :3

Edit:

immmm just going to add these

(PLATONICLY)

anyways, feel free to use these!

edit:

I made a server for tumblr undertale/deltarune artists!

my discord username is skylerfurmaniac, dm me if ya wanna join! (And if you want, you can add tumblr friends!)

also, that's if the link doesn't work (which is it doesn't can someone tell me pls?)

anyways

here is the link!!

#delatarune/undertale blog #yeet the child #hiii #UNDERCOOOORD #sky's random rambles #skyler's art #sky's chaotic reblogs #sky's gremlin mode activated #skyler's ref #skyler #sky's serious reblogs #asks #Skyler art!!!!

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archiveikemen · 1 month

Text

Ellis Twilight Main Story: Chapter 1

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

[ Ellis POV ]

— What is happiness?

The moment I burned that image into my eyes, it changed like the colours of the sky at twilight.

Even though it left a deep impression in my heart that would stay forever, I can never get the exact same feeling ever again.

Time, stop.

So that this happiness will never fade.

…

[Kate POV]

(Starting from today, I’ll be under the surveillance of “Crown”, a group of assassins who conquer evil with evil.)

(My job as a “fairytale keeper” is to document their sins— this is my only lifeline.)

I tidied myself up in front of the mirror and gave myself another encouraging pep talk.

(It honestly scares me to think I’ll have to watch them “sin” again, but…)

(So far, I’ve had my fair share of harsh situations; from handling customer complaints at the post office, to making deliveries at extremely chaotic scenes of carnage.)

(Everything will be fine. I get through this, one way or another.)

Kate: Only for one month. You can do this, Kate. You’ve got this. … Alright.

Saying words of encouragement to myself as though I were chanting a scripture, I opened my room door and took an enthusiastic step into the hallway—

…

???: Whoa.

Kate: Kyaa!?

The tip of my nose bumped into the chest of someone who was standing in front of my room.

Kate: I-I’m so sorry…!

Ellis: I’m sorry too. … Are you hurt?

(Ah… this man is—)

– Flashback Start –

Last night, I found out about the Queen’s secret group of assassins “Crown”.

Harrison: … Now that she’s known way too much, what do you intend to do with her, Victor?

Victor: Hmm. Let me think…

Ellis: Do we kill her?

(Wha—?)

Ellis: She doesn't look happy at all, but I’ll do it if it’s for work.

– Flashback End –

(He was the first person to suggest killing me.)

(But, after that…)

– Flashback Start –

Ellis: I’m Ellis.

Kate: Nice to meet you… Ellis.

Ellis: Mm… nice to meet you too. I often go out of town with Jude to attend to some business, but I’ll make you as happy as possible while I’m here.

– Flashback End –

(Why is Ellis standing in front of my bedroom…?)

(Oh, right. My surveillance has started.)

A single wrong move could cost me my life.

Memories of the amount of fear I felt the night before flashed into my mind, causing me to straighten my back sharply.

(I can’t keep my usual attitude.)

(This is a whole different world I’ve stepped into.)

Kate: Ellis, right? I look forward to working with you from today on.

Ellis: Yeah, I’m Ellis Twilight. A pleasure to meet you too… also, there’s no need for you to be so tense.

Ellis gave a small chuckle and peered into my face with a concerned expression.

Ellis: … Your nose is red.

Ellis: Sorry for that. The door flew open right when I was about to knock, so I couldn’t dodge in time.

He leaned against the door with a long, slender arm.

Hidden behind his curly hair was a pair of eyes the colour of twilight — just like his name.

Surprised by the sudden lack of distance between us, I gasped and hastily apologised.

Kate: It's not your fault! It’s mine for getting too motivated and jumping out of my room…

Ellis: Motivated? What for?

Kate: Ehh!? Uhh…

(“I was giving myself a motivational boost because I was afraid of living together with the people here.”)

(I can’t say that to his face…)

Kate: It’s kind of like being transferred to a department I know nothing about… um…

Kate: HURRAH! Something like this…!

Ellis: Hurrah…

Ellis blinked in surprise.

(That sounded too unnatural…)

Ellis: … You’re so cute.

Kate: Uhh… it’s fine, you didn't have to cover for me…

(I should be relieved he could find an excuse for me, but it’s still embarrassing…)

As my gaze wandered around my surroundings, searching for somewhere for me to go, Ellis’ face turned serious again and he whispered to me,

Ellis: I want to assign you your very first task in this “new department”... may I?

…

Kate: — Wow…

(What a beautiful garden.)

Ellis led me outside to the castle’s courtyard…

Before me was a large English garden that looked very carefully maintained.

The seasonal flowers were in full bloom, filling the air with a heavenly smell.

(Last night, this castle towering over me appeared solemn and dangerous, and yet…)

(It also has such a peaceful place in it.)

I followed behind Ellis along the path while admiring the beautiful garden, until we arrived at a gazebo.

Tea and scones were arranged on a table, it seemed like there was a tea party about to begin.

Ellis: Here.

Kate: Uh… t-thank you.

I was puzzled when Ellis pulled out a chair for me, but I took a seat as invited and he went to sit opposite me.

(He mentioned something about giving me a task just now…)

Kate: Is this where my first task will be?

Ellis: Yup. … Your first task is to have breakfast together with me.

(... Huh?)

Ellis: Tell me about yourself while we enjoy the delicious food. I’ll tell you about myself too.

Ellis: If you write them down, it’ll count as a “Fairytale Keeper” report. Right?

Kate: I’d appreciate that, but… wouldn't that be too much of a bother to you?

Ellis: I don’t think so. Why do you ask?

He seemed to genuinely want to help me.

Ellis: I’ll tell you about the other members of Crown too.

Ellis: I know it must be terrifying to live with people who are complete strangers.

Kate: …!

(Could it be that my “first task”...)

Kate: Did you invite me here to soothe my nerves?

Ellis: … You’re partially right.

Kate: “Partially”?

Ellis: The other reason is that I want to chat with you. … So that’s where you’re partially wrong.

His lips lifted into a faint smile.

(Was the impression I formed of Ellis last night all a misunderstanding?)

Last night, I felt uneasy — like something was staring at me from the darkness, giving me the chills.

(I’m not getting that feeling from Ellis in front of me right now.)

(Perhaps last night’s uneasiness was only because I just witnessed a murder scene…)

I pushed those thoughts aside, deciding not to bother with them.

— Thinking back to it later on, I realised that was a mistake.

(Anyway, Ellis made the effort to make all these arrangements for me.)

(I should accept his offer and hear him out.)

Kate: Thank you, Ellis.

Ellis: I didn’t do anything to deserve your thanks.

Ellis: Do you like sweets? Victor baked these scones this morning.

Kate: Oh? Victor can cook…?

Ellis: Yup, it’s a hobby. Al is a good cook too.

Ellis: Al taught me to make clotted cream previously, so I made this myself.

Ellis: I bought this jam because Liam recommended it to me.

Ellis: As a stage actor, Liam always knows what’s popular.

Ellis: This meat pie is from the restaurant Roger took me to for lunch a while back. He treats me to meals often.

Kate: Whoa, slow down a little. I want to write all of that down…!

I took my little notebook out of my pocket and started jotting down the things Ellis told me about the members or Crown.

Kate: Oh, I know about that apricot crumble place too! It’s always busy with lots of customers.

Ellis: I bought it together with Harry. He may not look like it, but Harry has a sweet tooth and has an eye for good dessert places.

Kate: Fufu… the members of Crown seem very close.

(Even though they made me feel as though we were people from two very different worlds…)

(At the end of the day, they’re just human beings living in the same London as I am… and that feels somewhat reassuring to know.)

(This is all thanks to Ellis.)

Ellis: Kate.

Kate: Yes…?

With natural movements, Ellis reached his large palm towards my face—

Ellis: … You got cream in your hair.

Kate: Huh? Oh…

(I really did get cream in my hair. I didn't notice.)

Ellis gently tucked my hair behind my ear.

Kate: Thank you.

Ellis: You’re welcome. … Is the food so delicious that you got too absorbed in enjoying them?

Ellis rested his chin in his hand and gazed at me with a smile.

Kate: … Yes, it’s delicious.

Ellis: Glad to hear that.

(Being able to pull off this sort of thing so effortlessly… Ellis must be very popular with ladies.)

I suddenly became conscious of my heart beating faster and tried to calm my racing heart.

Kate: You put in a lot of effort into setting up this breakfast, and you’ve also been very concerned about my wellbeing so far…

Kate: Why are you being this kind towards me?

(I don’t remember doing anything worth receiving such kindness from Ellis for…)

Ellis: It’s because you’ve been looking unhappy since last night.

Ellis: I only want the people around me to be as happy as they can be.

(That’s all…?)

(But I’m merely a stranger to Ellis…)

Kate: Do you treat everyone the same way? Even complete strangers?

Ellis: Huh…? Hmm… I don’t think so.

He seemed bewildered by my simple question.

(Ellis is indeed a rather strange person.)

(But…)

Kate: … This makes me happy.

(I definitely feel much more at ease now, thanks to Ellis.)

Ellis: I see… I'm glad you don't find it unpleasant.

— My feelings of wariness melted away by the end of our pleasant breakfast together.

Ellis: Are you a fan of theatre?

Kate: Yes. Actually, I volunteered to do an extra shift last night to earn some extra cash for tickets to a play…

Ellis: Fufu… you’re quite a passionate fan.

My conversation with Ellis went smoothly, like we’ve been close friends for a long time.

Just then, I heard another set of footsteps.

Victor: Hi! It’s looking lively out here!

Ellis: Victor.

Kate: …! Good morning.

Victor: Ah, no need to stand for me! I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation.

Victor: Ellis offered to help prepare breakfast this morning… did it make you feel better?

Victor gazed at me searchingly with a smile.

The air of mystery I sensed around him last night vanished, leaving only the feeling of warmth from his eyes resembling gemstones.

(My “first task” from Ellis must’ve really helped soothe my nerves.)

Kate: Yes. It’s all thanks to Ellis and the delicious scones you baked.

Victor: …

Victor looked slightly surprised when I thanked him with a smile, but his expression quickly switched into a bright smile.

Victor: Your relaxed smile is basically saying “I’m so happy to be Crown’s exclusive fairytale keeper”!

Ellis: … She never said that.

Kate: … Fufu.

My shoulders shook a little as I giggled at their exchange. Victor’s eyes narrowed.

Victor: Now, there are two things I ask of you, our fairytale keeper. One is to keep our secret, and the other is to record our sins.

Victor: The first task is very straightforward and I see no problem with it; but I don't wish for you to be confused by the second task, so I’d like to guide you a little.

Victor: May I give you a brief explanation of the task?

Kate: Yes, please.

Victor: It’s not a difficult job, actually. All you have to do is to observe the members and record what you think is a sin.

Victor: I leave it up to you to decide how you’d like to do it.

Victor: You can rotate amongst them and observe multiple members, or you can focus on just one member and accompany him in his activities.

(Observe the members of Crown, and the method is entirely up to me… I see.)

Kate: Understood. … Um, may I also know to what extent I’m being watched?

Victor: Even though we say we’re keeping you under surveillance, we don't wish to restrict your freedom. Except going outside alone, you’re free to do as you wish.

Victor: You may be asked to follow us on missions sometimes, but your free time is yours to spend freely.

I nodded, relieved to know that I wasn’t being watched as strictly as I had expected.

Kate: Understood. Thank you for the clarification.

Victor: … To be honest, I was surprised to see you smile just now. I never expected to see your smile so soon.

Victor: We’re an organisation that commits terrible deeds and we had you witness a horrifying scene last night, so I thought you wouldn't exactly feel “at ease”.

Victor gave me a cheeky wink.

He then squinted his eyes like he was looking at the sun.

Victor: I hope that the darkness you’ll be subjected to against your will from now on, will never steal your smile.

Strangely, because of the tone of his words, I couldn't dismiss them as a lie.

(There’s no denying that the members of Crown are scary people who kill without hesitation and dwell in the shadows.)

However— at the bottom of my heart, I had a feeling that I’d understand them better if I just looked closely enough.

Victor: Well then, I shall take my leave. Being the Queen’s Aide is quite busy.

It seemed that Victor was only there to check on me, and so he left the garden without joining us at the table.

(I have to closely observe the members of Crown if I want to record their sins, right?)

If that’s the case— I think my best option would be to start with getting to know Ellis.

That thought came to me almost naturally.

Kate: Um, Ellis… what are your plans for today?

However, I was interrupted by someone’s voice.

Jude: What are you doing, slacking off when you have work to do? I’ll punch you.

Ellis • Kate: !

The deep voice startled me, making me jump.

(This voice—)

I timidly turned around to see Jude standing there with his arms crossed and looking clearly ticked off.

(H-He’s furious…!)

Ellis: Sorry, I’ll go right away.

Ellis shot Jude a casual glance and responded without even leaving his seat.

(He’s so relaxed about it…)

Jude clicked his tongue and strode out of the garden with a flip of his jacket.

Ellis: … There you have it. My plans for today.

(Jude is the president of the trading company Ellis works at as his assistant… right.)

(I intended to observe Ellis today, but I guess I’d be better off postponing that plan.)

Kate: Thank you for taking time off your work for me. Good luck at work.

Ellis: ...

Ellis stared at me in silence, pondering about something—

Kate: Uhh?

Ellis: If it's okay with you, do you want to come along?

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil main story #ellis main story #ellis twilight #aikm translation

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lovinglylibelle · 1 month

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

-navigation || masterlist-

pairing: fushiguro megumi x reader

genre: fluff

description: Megumi has always been curious about love, having never experienced it himself. So what happens when he meets someone from his past that might just be the key to changing all that.

requests: open

a/n: this is has been on my mind for a while and i tried sooo many times to write this, but it somehow wasn't giving the vibe i wanted it to give. However, writing it this time was better and i like how it turned out, may have gotten carried away down there but eh (is it obvious that i am absolutely enamored by Megs?) If you like it, please press that cute little heart in the bottom right corner and that reblog button just next to it. If you want more such fics, you can also drop a follow and i promise not to disappoint. Have a happy day ahead, keep yourself hydrated and well fed. Thank you

"Ya Itadori, do you think it will rain?" Kugisaki asked, shielding her eyes as she looked up at the sky. It was the beginning of Japan's rainy season and it seemed like Tokyo was about to welcome it too.

It was getting darker by the second as more and more clouds gathered, blocking out the rays of the sun and from the looks of it, the sky was ready to let down the first rain.

"It's definitely going to rain," Itadori replied. According to the duo, he had some sort of sensor in him that allowed him to predict the weather... keeping aside the fact that it was already visible.

Megumi sighed as he watched the two sorcerers, now trying to climb the lamp post in order to get a clearer view, wondering how he managed to get himself surrounded by them. Not that he minded it. He had gotten used to it.

The three were standing outside a movie theatre, waiting for the movie to screen. Kugisaki and Itadori had insisted upon watching the latest romance movie, the same old story about love.

Fushiguro Megumi didn't know a thing about love and it really wasn't a surprise. To him it was just a myth, a fool's errand that the world seemed to chase for reasons unbeknownst to him.

He didn't get it, truly, the concept of it foreign to him but he wasn't the one to blame for it. He didn't exactly have the chance to experience it: his parents abandoned him, his sister was in a magic coma, and his 'relatives' wanted to exploit him... the only thing close to love, affection, and warmth he had ever known, not that he would ever admit it to him or anyone, was the chaotic white haired man child known as Gojo Satoru, and the two idiots who seemed to have taken it upon themselves to be the bane of his existence. However, that was all platonic anyway.

Romantic love was something he had only read about in the various novels and mangas: that were neatly stacked in his dorm, or watched in movies like these, and yet they weren't enough to make him believe in the notion.

It felt fictional to him, a love that transcends all barriers, a love that makes one do irrational things, a love that is unconditional... the idea was too far fetched. Everybody wanted something in the world, he knew that, he experienced that on an everyday basis. And everybody was selfish when it came down to it, so something as selfless as love was odd for him, odder than the existence of curses and magic.

However, he did wonder what it felt like, to be in love and to feel that feeling that all these things portrayed. Will he ever feel that? it was a question that made him ponder sometimes. He wouldn't mind it if he did and wouldn't mind it if he didn't either.

This reverie of his might have been neverending if it wasn't for the loud shout that Kugisaki had let out. "Fushiguro, it's open!"

He nodded, making his way towards them but stopping short after feeling a strong and familiar cursed energy.

"Huh?" he questioned, his eyes narrowing as he scanned his surroundings. A nostalgic emotion making its way to his heart. What was it-

thud, he felt someone bump into him, making him stumble slightly before he caught himself.

Looking up, he noticed the culprit and was ready to give them a terrible look but as soon as his eyes met yours, his entire world seemed to have slowed down to a halt.

There you were turning around to face him as your hair cascaded around you, framing you delicately like the buds do the petals. Your eyes were wide with evident shock that was etched onto your face oh so sweetly. Your lips parting slightly as it finally began to rain... the first of its season.

The air around you seemed to shimmer and Megumi could have sworn that he had never seen anybody look as beautiful as you did in that moment.

"Oh my god, shit, i am so sorry." you said hurriedly, a shocked expression on your face. You kept a hand above your eyes to be able to see.

Megumi couldn't even breathe much less talk or comprehend whatever you were saying as he noticed the feeling from earlier creeping in again. He squinted at you, running a hand through his hair that was now soaked and sticking to his forehead.

As he took in your features, the feeling started to bloom into something more, recognition.

You had the same aura around you, as you did all those years ago, of comfort and safety that once was Megumi's only solace. Your clumsiness was intact too, barely taking a few steps before crashing into things as he recalled. Your hair was longer though and somehow it looked even more perfect than what he had remembered... And your eyes, oh your eyes, they were the dead give away.

They had that same glint in them, the same warmth and insatiable curiosity that always left him in awe. Even now they seemed to hold the entire universe in them and sparkle like a million stars resided in them.

"Y/n..?" he whispered, loud enough for you to hear over the rain and soft enough to not break the moment.

"What? How do you know my nam-" you replied, confused beyond your belief when a flicker of understanding crossed your mind and you lit up with the same feeling of recognition.

"Meg- Fushiguro? No way..." you chuckled incredelously, disbelief on your face.

"Hello to you too, Y/n" he said, a smile on his face. It was genuine, the smile, just like it used to be all those years ago when you two spent time together.

To Kugisaki and Itadori who were watching it all unfold from afar, it was truly a rare sight; to see the alleged sea urchin, make that face and that too in a serious way.

"It's been so long Fushiguro, you've not changed a bit." you said, tucking your hair behind your ear as you smiled back at him. The more Megumi observed you, the more aware he became of his surroundings. He felt his cheeks growing warm despite the cold rain that was falling relentlessly around him.

"well my teeth grew back," he joked, earning a soft laugh from you and a gasp of disbelief from the other two, who exchanged a look. At the sound of your laugh, Megumi felt his heartbeat pick up, he couldn't comprehend what was happening to him. It was the first time ever that he had felt all those things, was it the weather? was it the rain? was he getting sick? what was happening to him? was he okay?

"that they did... makes you less cute though." you commented, making him nod his head and his friends face-palm themselves.

If they had been standing closer to you, Kugisaki would have smacked the oblivious guy's head right in that instance but due to the distance she couldn't.

"So you are back?" Fushiguro asked as the two of you started walking, the rain almost forgotten now.

"Yeah, Gojo Sensei had insisted on it and well i did miss everything here, especially you." you said, a hopeful look in your eyes as they met his.

I missed you too, he had wanted to say but decided against it.

"So what brings you here?" he said instead, his hands in his pockets.

He was looking down on the street, various puddles forming due to the water. He stepped in one, watching it splash against his feet.

"Believe it or not, it's a mission. There is a cursed spirit right around the corner there, caused a few suicides over the week." you said pointing at the alley behind the theatre.

"Speaking of, i can feel it manifesting again." you added, stopping in your tracks.

"They already got you going huh? You should go and exorcise it, we can talk later." he said, stopping to face you. He didnt want to stop talking just yet but he knew that the exorcism was more important.

"Alright, see you back at the dorms?"

He nodded in reply,

"It really is nice to see you again Fushiguro, i'll see you later." you said, taking off towards the alley with your hands clasped behind your back.

Fushiguro watched you walk away and felt himself coming to his senses again, he could now feel every raindrop on himself that had seemingly disappeared when he was talking to you. He realised that he was soaked, his hair sticking to his face, his hands cold and clammy and yet he didn't mind it at all,

He was so lost in watching you walk away that he didn't realise when Kugisaki and Itadori had joined him.

"So... who was that?" she said, holding the umbrella that somehow magically appeared in her hand. Her eyes narrowing at Megumi.

"A friend,"

"Just, a friend?"

"Yeah, just a friend."

"Sureeee, you made us miss half the movie though."

"But it's just been ten minutes Kugisaki-" Itadori interrupted,

"Yeah yeah i know, i am exaggerating. Come on now and quit staring, you look like a creep for fuck's sake." she called out, making her way towards the entrance of the theatre.

"Shut up." Megumi replied, shaking his head but looking away too.

He was elated to see you again and was even looking forward to meeting you back at the school and introducing you to his new friends.

"For the record, I don't believe that she was just a friend." Kugisaki added as she sat on her seat inside the theatre. Megumi who was now dry, thanks to his shikigami, sat down next to her with a sigh.

He avoided her gaze as he replied, "I don't care."

He was glad that the cinema was dark enough to hide his face when he said that because despite everything, a small smile had found its way on his lips which he really did not want Kugisaki or Itadori to see or they wouldn't let him hear the end of it.

His eyes focused on the movie in front of him, a romance movie, about love and somewhere in his heart and beyond his consciousness, he knew that he had found the answer to most of the questions he had as he thought back to the encounter he just had with you.

He really was looking forward to seeing you again.

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mvrtaiswriting · 1 year

Text

Patterns. x Portgas D. Ace ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

hiii! it’s simping for ace hours and this might be the most tooth rotting piece I have written in a while. again, quite short - but god i adore it! and i hope you will too <3 do let me know in the comments!

gender neutral! no warnings. not proofread

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.

“I wonder what happens if I connect all the dots.” you mumbled, running your fingers across Ace’s cheeks, touching every freckle and looking for a pattern. You always thought there was something special about Ace, something that went beyond the love you felt for him - it was like the universe let the two of you meet just at the right time. Your energies complemented each other in ways you never thought were possible - and during the most chaotic period of your life, Ace stumbled into your life. Weeks later you joined Whitebeard’s crew, mastering your newly acquired powers after eating a devil fruit gently offered to you by Pops himself, making love with your boyfriend away in your room when everyone was asleep.

Your life took a whole different turn since you were with Ace - it was like he saved you from something bigger than you; you didn't know what it was, certainly becoming a pirate was more dangerous than serving tables in your island but in all honesty, that could have really killed you. It was freedom you longed for, the wildness of piracy, sailing the sea not having any perception of geographical borders and discovering the world, one creature after the other. There was a whole universe outside the walls of your city, which now only was a faded memory. Ace took your hand and stole you from your motherland - and you never looked back, thanking him everyday for changing your life for the better.

“Do you think they form something?” he asked giggling, crossing eyes as he tried to follow the movements of your fingers. You nodded in response, not even noticing the goofy expression on your boyfriend face. Laying on top of him, you laid your head on his pillowy chest, getting a perfect view of your lover’s cheeks.

“I can’t believe it. There IS a pattern!” you screamed in excitement, getting up to take a better look at his face. Lightly squishing his face, you took a pen to connect the dots on his face. Ace remained silent, letting you draw over his face, admiring the little scrunch that formed on the bridge on your nose every time you focussed on something.

“Pops taught me something about the constellation, and I never saw this one in the sky. I can’t believe it’s here.” you continued, visibly surprised.

“What? What is it?” he asked curiously.

“The freckles on your cheeks somehow form the Pisces constellation!” you clapped your hands, proud of discovering this little gem hidden in Ace’s face.

“It’s believed to be the hardest to spot in the night sky. According to the legend, it signifies the union between Aphrodite and Eros, the goddess of beauty and the god of love.” you added, circling the moles on his cheek that indicated the two gods. “I knew it. I knew it wasn’t just a coincidence.”

Ace smiled happily, quickly wrapping his arms around you, wiggling both of your bodies side to side. “This is so cool!” he squeaked, peppering your face in kisses. “What. a. mind.” he added, emphasising every word he said.

“This isn’t about me! You are the special one!” you laughed, his kisses slightly tickling you.

“I would have never known if it wasn’t for you - is something really special if no one knows about it?” he flicked your forehead before you could even argue against it.

You took a second to observe your boyfriend once again, the way the scribbles on his face exactly charted the rarest and most romantic constellation, out of them all. It was hard to believe in coincidences now; he truly was your soulmate, your twin flame, your other half. There was no other explanation. The connection between the two of you was instant - something clicked the first time his eyes locked with yours. And even if you destroyed everything when you decided to embark in this journey with him, something fell exactly into place as if it was always meant to be. Chaos became the only order things could have, and like the seemingly random freckles on his face, everything was now making sense.

“I love you, fire fist.” you smiled, biting your bottom lip trying not to burst into tears. You couldn't explain it; you loved him before but somehow you loved him even more now. A new light shone upon everything as a new, intense wave of happiness overwhelming your heart.

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reblog-reblog666 · 11 months

Text

Reblog Masterlist 1

Matt Murdock / Daredevil

Alleycat series masterlist - Fluff, Smut

Not your average male fantasy - Smut

Kneel at the alter - Smut

Lost - Smut

Bad dreams (hold me closer) - Angst, Smut

No better love - Fluffy Smut

Wicked games - Angst?, Smut

Need - Angst, Smut

Ease the pain - Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Coffee shop woes (1) - Fluff / First date jitters (2) - Fluff / Late night confessions (3) - Angst, Fluff

My darling, my baby. - Fluff, Smut

Lavender haze - Fluff

Lingering - Fluff

Tolerance - Fluff

Ask response - Smut

I just need you - Hurt/Comfort?, Almost Smut?

A slow day - Smut

Bandages - Fluff

Sub!Matt hcs - Smut

Good boys deserve to be taken care of (1) - Smut / (2) - Smut

Old fashioned - Smut

Feisty - Smut

Wordle - Fluff (OFC, Not Reader)

Matt as a bad priest hcs - Smut

Kneel. - Kinda Hurt/Comfort?, Fluff?

Michelangelo's Matthew - Fluff

Still here - Fluff

Daddy issues - Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Attention - Fluff

My own worst enemy - Angst, Hurt/Comfort

In the rearview - Angst, Hurt/Comfort

All I feel is you - Fluff

Castle in the sky - Fluff

Never an ear strain away - Fluff

Talk too much - Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Chaotic College!Matt hcs - Fluff

Nepenth - Hurt Comfort, Fluff

Forgiveness - Smut

Pain and pleasure - Smut

Sub Matt blurb - Smut

When the needle speaks (1) - Angst, Hurt Comfort / (2)

Stroke - Smut themes?

No interruption - Smut

Ours - Smut Blurb

Relax - Smut Blurb

I’ll be in good company - Hurt Comfort, Fluff

You’re somebody else - Angst

You are the best thing that’s ever been mine - Fluff that makes you cry

Matt Murdock x Autistic! Reader x Frank Castle hcs - Fluff, Hurt Comfort

Bruises - Hurt Comfort

Matt Murdock x Virgin!Reader hcs - Smut

Guardian Angel - Teen!Reader, Pregnant!Reader, Dad!Matt, Hurt Comfort

A real first kiss - Little bit of angst, Little bit of comfort, Fluff

Corruption of innocence (1) (2) - Smut

Anchor - Hurt Comfort, Autistic Reader

And then I met you (1) - Slight Angst, Fluff, Dad!Matt, Mom!Reader

Stained glass love series masterlist

Rooftops and vigilantes - Fluff? Idk what else to say (1) (2) (3)

You learn something new everyday… I guess - Fluff, angst?, hurt comfort?

Praise kink - Smut / Good girls finish first - Smut

Ours - Fluff, Comfort

Chase - Smut (1) (2)

Frank Castle / Punisher

Bad dreams (hold me closer) - Angst, Smut

Fashion show - Fluff

Jealousy - Smut

Forgiveness - Smut

Out of mind - Fluff

Ours - Smut Blurb

Matt Murdock x Autistic! Reader x Frank Castle hcs - Fluff, Hurt Comfort

Ours - Fluff, Comfort

Billy Russo

Penny for your thoughts - Smut

Jessie Pinkman

Celebrating Jessie’s birthday hcs - Fluff

Saul Goodman

His secretary but in a porno way - Smut

Peter Parker / Spiderman

Stim the stress away - Fluff, Neurodivergent Reader

Touch - Smut

Doughnuts - Fluff

Paparazzi - Dark! Peter, Smut, little fluff?

these violet delights - a dark! mob!peter tale [tasm peter vs kilgrave] - Angst, Dark Fic, Not x Reader, Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Darth Vader / Anakin Skywalker

The throne - Smut, Darth Vader

Derek Morgan

Size kink - Smut

BAU General

Autistic BAU reader hcs - Fluff, Hurt Comfort

Rick Grimes

Our moments - Fluff

Bruce Wayne / Batman

Missing you - Smut

Words greatest detective - Smut

Other

Yandere Butler x Autistic Reader hcs - Dark, Hurt Comfort

#Masterlist

145 notes · View notes

rosewaterandivy · 11 months

Text

8. scarves of red

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, hospital mention, family medical crisis, sad girl hours continue, Meet Me in St. Louis call out, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: Hurt my own feelings with this one 😞😞😞 Here’s 5.9K of soft!Steve and conflicted!reader - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, let me know what you thought; enjoy! 💜

series masterlist | playlist

Trouble’s gift for Steve: rebel without a clue

previous || next

Then, December, Christmas day, Carmel-by-the-Sea, CA

It’s these moments you cherish the most. The quiet still of mornings when it feels like you’re the only person awake, able to catch auroras that break across the sky heralding a new day. Tangled up in shades of fading blue, rumpled sheets, and him.

One arm thrown across his eyes to block the growing light, the other wound loosely around your waist having sought you out in deepest sleep. His warm right hand and fingertips. His pulse measuring itself in steady breaths, puffs of air that escape his lax lips.

It’s in the liminal moments— when he’s suspended in between dreams and waking— that you face the truth. The one you’re so desperate to escape. A shadow drifting through a haze of incandescent light. Heart clenching at the thought—this is where you love him the most. You trace his outline with a finger, igniting the glorious gold shape of his body. It stirs him back to you.

“Mornin’.” Raspy and low, whispered into your ear and your very soul shivers. “Merry Christmas, honey.” He smiles when he looks at you, arm falling to his side.

Curling closer to the heat of his body, you smile. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

Your palm pursues a dip of muscle, Steve presses his lips to the crown of your head before drawing you to him, as if you could fade into him like a band of light. Would that you could. Blinking the tears away before they can fall, you smile into the curve of his neck smothering the urge to taste and touch him.

Hushed tones and footfalls hint that you’re no longer the only ones awake. Steve squeezes you once more for good measure before rising from the bed, with a yawn and a stretch. You follow suit not long after, waiting until he’s left the room to get up. Treading carefully, you unzip his bag and your fingers happen upon his presents, hastily packed away before leaving.

With a small smile, you turn on your heel at the sound of your dad’s Christmas playlist blaring through the speakers. Cheered by the chorus of voices from the kitchen, you move to join them finding Steve ready with a mug of coffee for you as he leans against the counter.

He’s pulled on an ancient Hawkins Tigers shirt and dispensed the proper portion of creamer for your coffee. Trading barbs and jokes with your mother while she teases him about the competing cats of his outfit, tigers versus leopards, a tale as old as time.

Greeting your family, you make your way to the tree and stow Steve’s presents under it. Hearing that he’s been pulled into conversation with your dad, you take the slip of paper from your the pocket of your shorts and sneak it into his stocking, hung right beside yours.

A bump to your hips, a familiar chuckle as you turn to see your brother with a mug extended toward you. “Steve’s orders,” he says, sipping from his own mug. “Said you better not let it go cold.”

You clink your mugs together and settle on the couch, waiting for the festivities to begin. Someone passes a plate or cinnamon rolls your way and sets a champagne glass behind you on a table. Steve bullies his way onto the couch to sit with you, forcing you to the center of the sofa.

“Well, that looks familiar,” your dad chuckles catching sight of you, nudging your mom to look on. “Trouble in the middle, like every road trip we ever took the three of you on.”

“Not for lack of trying,” you mutter, recalling the antics Steve and your brother would get up to on those long rides to campsites or out-of-state. Mostly them playing keep away with whatever book you’d brought along and making you play I-Spy, the license plate game, or your least favorite, punch buggy.

You roll your eyes at the ensuing laughter, your mom looking at you in sympathy with a pout. Steve taps his knee to yours as you dig into breakfast, an indignant huff when you elbow him back. “Not very nice of you,” he grouses, “Think we’ll have to move you to the naughty list.”

“White Winter Hymnal” is on, blaring through the house. Robin Pecknold croons sweetly, longingly, ethereally about a pack of foxes making their way in the snow in a dreamy cadence. Steve hears your voice as you carol along, impossibly cute. Catching your curious expression at what is most likely his prolonged staring at you, he gives a dramatic roll of his eyes to cover.

“Woah there, cowboy,” you say through a mouthful of pastry, “If you keep rolling your eyes like that, they’ll get stuck up there.”

“Yeah,” your brother chimes in, “Looked pretty impressive there, Steve-o.”

“Well, what can I say?” A waggle of his brow while he sips from his mug, “I learned from the best.”

Thankfully, your dad takes over and begins handing out stockings and presents from the tree, a trash bag at the ready for wrapping paper and paraphernalia. There are more gifts than you’d anticipated, what with this trip being a surprise, but lo-and-behold, you're given an expertly wrapped box from the Harringtons.

“Did you know about this?”

Steve looks to you, confusion evident on his pretty face. He shrugs, eyes glancing to the package in your lap.

“Oh Steve, your mom had those sent over, we’ve been in touch,” you look at your mom as if she grew a second head. “What? We talk, not everything is about you,” she says casually.

“Mmm,” you say primly before your dad reminds the three of you to get the ‘shebang’ started, stockings first, naturally.

Finding a quiet moment, Steve steps away to call his parents. They exchange a few pleasantries and he thanks them for sending the gifts here rather than the loft. He dodges their question about his last gift for you, simply because he hasn’t found the right time to give it to you— knows how you can get about having all eyes on you in situations like this, not terribly fond of unwanted attention.

Before he can get back to the movie marathon you’d started in the living room, your mom steps into the room. She ducks her head with a smile mouthing ‘sorry’ seeing that he’s still on the phone, and he can see so much of you in her at that instant, Steve completely forgets what he was saying.

“Yeah, I gotta go,” he drawls, head devoid of thoughts about the previous conversation. “Talk later, love you too Ma.”

Comfy on the chair next to the windows, your mom turns to him with a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No worries,” Steve sits in the chair across from her, “They had to get going, anyway.”

She nods, knowing all too well the perpetual rush his parents were in, steeples her fingers and takes a breath. “So.”

Steve only appears slightly abashed at her tone, that needling you-know-better register it seems only mothers can access. He sighs and palms the back of his neck, “I know, I know.”

Another knowing smile. “You’re still planning to give it to her?”

“I mean, I was…” He leans forward slightly and rakes his hand through his hair frustratedly. “And then my dad got in my head about it, saying it’s too similar to a proposal—”

An inhalation of breath. She kisses her teeth with a shake of her head, “Steve, you know her better than that I’d wager.”

She scoots forward in her seat and reaches to take his hand, thumb moving in comforting circles across his bruised knuckles. They’re still sore, and he hisses when she brushes a particularly tender spot.

“Sorry sweetie,” she soothes. Her eyes wandered to him, warm and maternal. “I heard about what happened, she told us after patching you up the other day.”

Steve finds it hard to meet her gaze in that moment. Clearly, you could hold your own and take care of yourself. There was no reason for him to get involved save for his own sense of pride. Regret roils like acid in his gut as he waits for the I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.

“I should thank you,” is what your mom ends up saying with a mischievous smile. “I’ve been wanting to pop him one for years now and you beat me to the punch, quite literally.”

Steve squints a little, understanding when he sees her trying to suppress her laughter. He cracks a smile and squeezes her hand, responding with a laugh.

“He just had such a punchable face, y’know?”

“Oh, do I.”

They fall into easy conversation after that, her confiding in him about your recent predicament and worries for you. He serves as her sounding board, offering up nods and reassurances that you’re doing well, anecdotes about work and the loft.

Eventually, she turns to glance out of the window. “You’ve always taken such good care of her Steve.” Her voice is thick with emotion, she frees her hand from his to wipe at her eyes. “We’ve never had to worry about her with you,” she laughs as if she can’t believe it and stands to face the ocean view.

He rises slowly, knowing whatever she’s about to say is something she has held close; a private hope for her daughter, too fragile to be spoken aloud. “I know you would do anything for her,” her voice is barley whisper in the still of the room, “And she’d do the same for you,” a slow turn to face him once more, soft smiling tugging at the corner of her lips, “You have to know that. I mean, of course you do, you’re devoted to one another.”

Steve nods, hands grasping her shoulders and pulling her into a hug. She falls into him with a wet laugh, he perches his chin on the top of her head while she pulls herself together. Her arms wind about his waist squeezing him tightly, “All of this is to say,” her voice steady once more, “Would the two of you please get your shit together?”

His bark of laughter surprises him, “Sure, I’ll get right on that mom.”

She claps his shoulder and shoots him a rougish glance, “No pressure,” she goes to leave the room, “It’s not like we want grandkids or anything,” she teases.

He pouts petulantly and follows her out, “You,” he says with a sigh, “are trouble.”

“Mmm,” she agrees, leading him to the kitchen, “Well, the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree y’know.”

Steve listens to the playlist you’d curated for him as he walks to meet you at the beachfront. In your typical fashion, it was an incredibly thoughtful gift— a custom pressed splatter vinyl, a mix your favorite color and red, which is his— and he was speechless for a moment after unwrapping it.

“D’you like it?” You’d shyly asked when he hadn’t said anything or given a hint as to his reaction. “It’s a vinyl pressed with a playlist I made you.” You went on to explain that you had a Spotify version too, since there wasn’t a record player at the house for immediate use. He set the gift down carefully and pulled you into a bearhug, settling your legs on either side of his so you were seated in his lap facing each other.

Coloring in embarrassment, you rest your forehead against his, bright eyes glancing up through long lashes to study him. The smile he gave you nearly split his face in two, “You’re amazing and I love it.” You teased him, pointing out that he couldn’t say that since he hadn’t heard it yet. Then frowned, spotting the flash of your dad’s camera going off, and attempted to clamber off of his lap.

Loud scoffs as you critiqued your dad’s photography skills, and your brother piped up that he got a shot of the pair of you as well, should the other picture not be sufficient. Steve let you slide back to the center of the sofa, one arm wrangled around your waist as you leant against him for the rest of the gift exchange, head tucked into his neck as his fingers ran through your hair.

Apparently, you’d gone out on a “sad girl” walk not long after Steve had gone to call his parents. Your dad was mindful to relay your sentiments, “Woke up from her sugar coma and said ‘peace out girl scout, time for sad girl hours.’ Whatever that means.”

Steve left soon after, added the playlist to this ‘likes’ and told them he’d be back with you soon. He shoves the phone in the pocket of his jacket and checks for the ring with his opposite hand. Fingers running over the crushed velvet, he reassures himself that it’s there and intact and begins his downhill trajectory.

His mind floods with memories with the opening songs, burned CDs and playlists you’d demand played at max volume as he drove around Hawkins while you sat shotgun in his car. You had a knack for this sort of thing, the ability to curate a playlist around any theme or request impeccably. There was a reason you threw together the soundtrack for any party he’d thrown since high school, why you were in charge of the AUX of every car he drove— much to Eddie’s chagrin.

Descending the hills of the suburbs, he walks through the nearly empty arcade of shops and restaurants of downtown. There are a few people milling around at the water’s edge, but not many. He treads the wood boards of stairs leading down to the sandy beach, head bobbing and singing along “Timberwolves at New Jersey.”

Steve smiles and nods at the various couples and families he passes by, wondering where you are. He’s about to text you after a few minutes of fruitless searching, when he spies you perched atop a hill, chin resting against your knees as you hug your legs to your chest. You’ve got your new headphones on and his raybans, because when are you not rifling through his shit and taking his stuff.

He scrambles up the hill, feet sinking into the sand if he lingers in one spot for too long. Makes his way to your side with mumbled curses and something about being subjected to finding sand in his shoes for the rest of his life. Plops to the ground at your side with a forceful exhale and knocks a knee against yours.

“Hey,” he says after pausing the music and removing his ear buds. You nod at him, grimace pulling at your lips, and eyes red.

Wordlessly, he drags you to his side and tucks your head under his chin as you take trembling breaths. Hears the unmistakable sound of Taylor Swift and decides that it’s time to put the headphones away for today. Hands gently lift the speakers from your ears and rest the band against your neck. You sniffle and wipe the tears from your face, moving to sit up.

Steve cradles you to his chest, thumbs brushing errant tears you’d missed from your cheeks. You allow him to silently comfort you, hands winding under his jacket seeking warmth and touch. He settles you on his lap, arms holding you close. The scent of his aftershave wraps around you, a resounding sense of home as you cry.

How easy it would be if you could rid yourself of the memories and grief that torment you day and night.

The waves crash against the shore, drowning out your thoughts of him and the life you almost had— a May wedding, a house and a dog, eventually children running through the yard, sprinklers, popsicles melting sticky sweet in the summertime.

How easy it would be if you could just move on.

Your eyes slip close as you take slow breaths in and out, Steve whispering encouragements into your hair as it whips up in the sea breeze. Notes of salty brine mixing with the cypress of his cologne. His fingers slide down your jaw, moving you to stare up at him. Your best friend looks as if his heart is breaking in front of him and there’s nothing he can do to prevent it.

It’s enough to chasten you, tears drying on your face as you sit up straight. Thumbs running up and down the length of your arms and a small smile, eyes clouded with concern. A shake of your head to let him know it’s okay, that you’re okay or at least trying to be.

Placated, for now, Steve offers you his hands to help you stand— fingers grasping his palms, you counter your weight against his and rise, dusting sand off as you go. Once he sees you’ve settled, he sits back on his heels and looks up to you. Pulling a box from his jacket pocket, he drops it your open palm, “One last present for you, Trouble.”

Curiosity piqued, you open it while he stands, grains of sand falling from his form. A gasp flies from your mouth. Nestled inside the box is a familiar ring, one that’s plagued you with guilt for the better part of a decade since you’d lost it.

“Steve, I—”

He shrugs, arms falling to his sides, “C’mon now, it’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it’s a big deal!” You smack his chest, “It’s a huge deal, how did you do this?!” You take the ring out of its box and marvel at it in the light: center stone of Alexandrite flanked by bright diamonds sparkling in the evening light.

“Your mom was huge help, actually.” He plucks the ring from you hand to slide it on the fourth finger of your left hand. “Had to use your uh, former ring for size, and some family pieces from your aunts and grandmothers, but we can change it up if you don’t like it.”

Steve keeps his eyes on your hand, mindful not to meet your gaze, a blush creeping up his neck and face. And you’re too shocked to do anything but gape in awe at his sweet, thoughtful gesture from your charming and dearest friend.

“No Steve,” you breathe and echo his earlier sentiment, “You’re amazing, I love it.”

The two of you stand there, his hand holding yours for what you swear are eternities. Hazel eyes drawing up to meet you, more green in this light, and impossibly fond. With a pull of your arm, he falls toward you, quick to wrap his other arm around your hips and press a kiss to the crown of your head. “Merry Christmas, doll,” the timbre of his voice sending you into shivers.

“Oh.”

A brief, quizzical glance to Steve at the sound of someone approaching you. He turns slightly to see who’s there. An older woman pauses with her hand to her lips, as if she’d interrupted a private moment meant for the two of you.

“I’m so sorry,” she continues, voice light and apologetic, “But you just make such a beautiful couple.” You feel Steve bristle at her interpretation of events. “I just wanted to offer my heartfelt congratulations!”

“Oh, we’re not–” he begins to say. You swat at him to get him to shut up, smile wide and bright when he turns to you confused.

More footfalls through the beach grasses as her husband comes to a stop beside her. A comforting hand falling to her shoulder with familiar ease, “So, how long have you been together?”

“Oh, feels like forever,” you say with a smile, discreetly elbowing Steve before he can correct you. “Childhood sweethearts, we grew up next door to each other.”

His wife beams, “You don’t see a lot of that anymore.” And prattles on, chatting with you about young love while Steve steals ardent glances of you.

The man observes him briefly, reminded of his own proposal in another lifetime. The undeniable look of a young man in love, infatuated with a girl and the shimmering promise of what’s to come. With a brief squeeze of his wife’s shoulder, he steps forward a few paces sending a nod to Steve. He catches the man’s meaning and walks away from you, arm extended back to hold your hand for as long as he can.

His arm drops to his side with reluctance, finally out of earshot and admiring the sunset with the gentleman to his left.

“A bit of advice, son?” the older man asks, catching your indulgent smile to Steve’s back. “From one old codger to a young whipper-snapper,” he drops a wink to Steve, who responds with a chuckle. “Relationships aren’t fifty-fifty and whoever said that was a colossal dumbass.”

Steve laughs, brilliant peals of it lost against the crashing of waves on the shore. Shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels as the man continues.

“If all she can give is twenty percent, on bad day, take up the slack and bridge that eighty percent for the sake of the partnership.” The man looks him in the eye with a slight smile, claps a hand on his shoulder, “Just some advice from a thirty-year veteran of a good marriage; it’s not always fair and easy, but it’s worth it.” Steve nods politely, eyes flicking toward you at the sound of your laughter. “Though, I s’pose this might be something you already know.”

They shake hands and the man turns back to call for his bride; she blushes making her way back to him. You take Steve by surprise, looping your thumbs through his belt loops and pulling him back against your chest, chin resting on his shoulder.

“C’mon buttercup,” you rasp, breath ticking the hairs on the back of his neck. “We got things to do and people to see!”

Waving goodbye to the well-wishers, you take Steve’s hand in yours and make your way back home. The receding sun colors the sky in bands of peach, pink, yellow and lilac. You comment on the cotton-candy hues turned back and facing him to take it in, small hands clasped in his larger ones as you walk backwards up the path.

And he knows he should turn to sneak a glance, take a picture to remember this moment by. But he can’t tear his eyes from you— light and bright in the dark of the tree covered trail, eyes flitting this way and that taking in the scenery, tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip before you fix him with your signature grin.

And like a moth to a flame, Steve will circle and orbit your radiance until he’s torn asunder. It is enough to love you from afar, for it to bloom and unfurl in the secret, dark recesses where your light cannot reach.

It has to be.

That evening finds Steve in a mild panic.

The walk back to your aunt and uncle’s place had been a vertical armageddon, just one brutal hill after the next, his thighs were still burning and he honestly didn’t know how you made it without your usual complaints.

But no. Handling the rigorous climb with your usual nonsense, you’d pestered him with every thought that ran through your head.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

The question takes him by surprise. Rummaging in your pockets until you’d produced a granola bar, you chomp and chew, crumbs decorating your lips.

Steve frowns and extends his hand. “No. And gimme.”

A granola flake sticks to your chin. “Oh, well, that’s a shame.” A quirk of his brow to egg you on, train of thought having already left the station. All these years of knowing you and he still doesn’t know a damn thing.

“I’m it,” another bite before you hand it off. The wrapper slips in his hand, the bar near to tumbling on the pavement. “I’m your soulmate.”

A cough. Steve chokes on the granola in his mouth and it comes out of his nose.

Footfalls approaching you at a quick pace, your brother jogging in place as he observes you thumping Steve on the back repeatedly to varying levels of success while he hacks and coughs.

“Good god.” You older sibling complains before leaving on an evening run, “You idiots were made for each other.”

And Steve doesn’t think he’s wrong.

Especially after cycling through the playlist twice over now. He hadn’t thought much of it, at first. You did stuff like this all the time: “Here, this made me think of you,” said with a hastily wrapped gift, “Special delivery!” accompanied by your bright smile and a breakfast tray of his favorites, “Let me know when you get there,” thrown over your shoulder as he’s on his way out of the door.

You’re such a considerate dope, he’s lucky to have you.

But this feels different. More intentional.

Not that you don’t put thought into things, you’re an English teacher for fuck’s sake; you can pick up on nuance and dissect a narrative like it’s nothing. Appreciating the varied layers and intentions of storytelling, teaching your students to do likewise— he hears it from them all the time (“I can’t read mindlessly anymore,” “I know, right?!”, “I’m so invested in these characters, it’s, like, bad.”).

He’s probably overthinking this.

It was just a kiss.

It’s just a Christmas present.

Albeit an incredibly thoughtful one.

Steve decides to cut his losses and stop wallowing. He grabs his things for a quick shower, hoping to wash off the last of the sand and sweat from earlier. The music continues to play, echoing against the tile in the bathroom.

“Tonight the headphones will deliver you the words that I can’t say.”

The refrain of “Homesick at Space Camp” mocks him.

Dinner was a catch-as-catch-can affair, you’d scored some cinnamon rolls from breakfast and whipped up a scramble as a quasi breakfast for dinner situation. Afterward, you joined your dad on the couch for the annual viewing of Meet Me in St. Louis.

Grabbing the remote, you press ‘play’ and settle in beside him with a glass of wine. From the corner of your eye, you see him tilt his head to the side, gaze focused on your left hand.

“Is that…?”

You offer him a small smile, “Present from Steve.” Setting your glass on the table, you go to move the ring to your right hand. “He didn’t— we’re not—” You stumble over the words, your dad’s grin growing. “Mom helped him with a replica of Grandma’s ring, that’s all.”

“Ah.”

Sliding the ring home on your right hand, you feel his knee knock against yours. “Not for nothing,” he begins to say, “But there aren’t a lot of guys like Steve, are there?”

You hum and turn your focus to the film rather than answer that particular query. And you know he means well, everyone does. Besides, you have a history with Steve and it’s the sort of story people like to see wrapped up with a tidy bow. All that aside, he’s still your oldest friend, your partner in crime. Why would you risk fucking that up, ruining the longest relationship of your life?

The movie unfolds, a comforting silence falling between you and your dad. Not as verbose or vivacious as your mom, but sturdy and reliable all the same. The quiet traditions you share have only grown in meaning over the years, even more so after recovering from a stroke he suffered during your sophomore year of college.

You recall your mother calling you as you readied yourself for work, voice quiet and restrained. “Dad is in the hospital, he had a stroke, they were airlifting him to a larger hospital in Indianapolis— can you make it?”

A tension in your jaw as you grit your teeth, your ex had taken your car for work that day since his broke down (again) and you were carpooling to work with Nancy.

You’d said yes before having a plan and told her you’d call her from the car. After a panicked call with Nance, you dialed the first number that came to mind— it’d been memorized for years, the Harrington landline.

He answered on the first ring, voice low and laden with sleep. “Hello?”

Steve was crashing at his parent's place for the weekend, something about overseeing pool maintenance for his dad while they were out of town.

You couldn’t quell the rush of tears that flooded down your face and took in a trembling breath. “Stevie?”

“Trouble—” The rustling of bed sheets as he sat up. “Honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“D-dad’s in the hospital, a stroke, I—” Your brain was short-circuiting, kept your cool through two phone calls and were now losing it on Steve. You needed to get your shit together instead of gaping like a fish.

“What do you need?” It sounded as if he’d moved the cordless, maybe cradling it between his face and shoulder as he pulled on his jeans. “I wanna help you, but you gotta say somethin’ here, honey.”

“A ride to Indianapolis, the University Medical Center.”

It would be an hour and a half drive and a huge imposition, midterms were coming up, and you knew he’d planned to study this weekend.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he intoned, “Take some breaths for me, okay?” You did as he requested, liable to hyperventilate otherwise.

Mind racing, you braced yourself against the dresser and willed yourself to pull it together. He’d be fine, he has to be fine, he’s only fifty-four for fuck’s sake! Thoughts flew to your mother, alone and scared at the local hospital, having called 9-1-1 after your dad’s frantic warning (“I think I’m having a stroke,” because, of course, he's considerate enough to self-diagnose as he collapsed).

“Steve,” you choke out, “He can’t— It’s too soon.”

A garage door opening, car chirping when he unlocks it. “He won’t,” he assures you, voice level, “It won’t come to that, honey.” Steve then calls you from the car on his cell, staying on the line while you change from your work clothes into something comfortable.

You have half a mind to grab a few things for you mom, but that would only take up more time that you don’t have. He uses his key to let himself in as you race down the stairs and fall into Steve’s open arms, wetting his sweatshirt with your tears and snot.

A damp kiss to your temple, a sharp sniff as he grabs your duffle with one hand and leads you to the car. Of course. You were such a self-absorbed idiot, hadn’t even considered how this might affect Steve, who loved you dad as if he were his own.

Three squeezes from your hand to his, the sole thing linking the pair of you together, are you okay?

He pauses, sitting behind the wheel of his car, dreading letting go of you. A shake of his head as he starts the car, and shifts it into gear as the sound of your dad’s favorite song surges through the car.

Steve’s hand finds yours once more after pulling onto the freeway, you sniff back your tears, chancing a look toward him. Red-rimmed eyes and bedhead, impossibly handsome despite it all. Bitten and chapped lips mouthing along to the words, I have these pictures and I keep these photographs / To remind me of a time.

He’s been there, all this time.

“You alright?” Soft. Quiet. A language only for you.

A shake of your head, because you’re not. Even now, you’re crushed with a sense of something old, forgotten vestiges of a time long since past. You close your eyes and let the car lull you to sleep.

Something nudges against your knee, bringing you back to the present. Your dad’s comforting arm, drawing you to his side as Esther and Grandpa dance at the ball. “Hey kiddo,” he says with a slight rasp, “Lost you there for a minute, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, and blink away any tears, nuzzling into the warmth of his shoulder, “All better now.” He chuckles, hand falling to rest on your elbow.

He clears his throat briefly, preparing to say something important. “You’re doing fine, Trouble. With all of, well, this,” he gives you a hearty squeeze. “And I know it can’t be easy, but I’d like to let you in on secret, if you’ll let me.”

“Sure dad, lay it on me.”

He sits up slightly, taking you with him. You glance up to his kind, weathered face. “One day, you’re going to wake up and think, ‘I’m so thankful I didn’t end up with what I thought I wanted.’” He pauses, letting it sink in. “Right now, it’s the pits— it’s hard and it sucks, I’m sure, but you’ll pull through, we’ll pull you through if we have to.”

You find yourself becoming emotional once more.

“Just— trust me, kiddo.” He kisses your temple as Judy Garland sings about next year’s troubles being out of sight. “We love you and we’re so proud of you,” he whispers to into your hair, “You’ll build an amazing life for yourself, you just gotta have a little patience.”

“Thanks dad,” you sniff back your tears, reaching a hand to brush under your nose before turning back to the movie.

He looks at you lovingly, brushing back your hair, “Merry Christmas, my favorite daughter.” Your bark of laughter startles you out of your melancholy, a soft tread on the stairs alerts you to someone’s presence.

Steve.

Freshly showered and slightly damp, leaning against the bannister, a grin on his face. He nods to your dad in greeting, “Anyone need anything?”

It’s too much and not enough, your heart clenches and you attempt to school your features into a semblance of calm. It feels so foreign; you haven’t had to guard yourself in front of him like this for years. Sinks low and turbulent in your gut.

You try to ground yourself, but it’s hard when the very ground you stand on trembles at the thought of him. The more you’re around him, the more you slip. “Nope,” you finally respond, “All good here, should be up in a minute.”

Just once, he’d like to tell you how he really feels. How he loves you. Like storybooks write it—how kids describe it.

Like pure, simple truth. Like the only truth he’ll ever know.

He wants calls your name, sigh it out in a voice that’s pitched carefully, light and airy, yet the heaviest sound he’d ever make. He wants, desperately, to say it. Say it over and over until it stops making sense because it really doesn’t make any. If he’s in love, he should be able to say it. To shout it.

Instead, Steve sends you a soft smile and murmur of ‘okay,’ as he heads back upstairs. When the door shuts, you and your dad’s voices retreating in the distance, Steve’s too exhausted to hide it anymore. He stumbles into the bathroom, splashing cold water and soap over his face in a futile pursuit to get his shit together.

In the mirror, staring back, are his tired eyes, tracking every fraction of movement that gives him away. He can’t let those happen. He needs to be stronger than what he wants.

He closes his eyes.

He whispers your name.

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #reader insert #modern!steve #teacher!steve #the kids aren't alright - rosewaterandivy

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elkian · 2 months

Text

I've seen a few of my Murderbot posts reblogged with tags to the effect of "I don't go here but I know of it" and for people who are interested in the Murderbot series looking to break in:

Tor.com (now Reactor Mag) has the entire first chapter of the first book, All Systems Red, available free to read on their site.

Link to the article.

ASR is a novella, so this not only covers a lot of ground, but is a pretty good litmus test imo if this book is for you or not.

(I read ASR twice before getting Artificial Condition, and that was the book that got me totally hooked on the series, for what that's worth.)

I'm also just going to post the text under this readmore because free Murderbot.

---

I could have become a mass murderer after I hacked my governor module, but then I realized I could access the combined feed of entertainment channels carried on the company satellites. It had been well over 35,000 hours or so since then, with still not much murdering, but probably, I don’t know, a little under 35,000 hours of movies, serials, books, plays, and music consumed. As a heartless killing machine, I was a terrible failure.

I was also still doing my job, on a new contract, and hoping Dr. Volescu and Dr. Bharadwaj finished their survey soon so we could get back to the habitat and I could watch episode 397 of Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon.

I admit I was distracted. It was a boring contract so far and I was thinking about backburnering the status alert channel and trying to access music on the entertainment feed without HubSystem logging the extra activity. It was trickier to do it in the field than it was in the habitat.

This assessment zone was a barren stretch of coastal island, with low, flat hills rising and falling and thick greenish-black grass up to my ankles, not much in the way of flora or fauna, except a bunch of different-sized birdlike things and some puffy floaty things that were harmless as far as we knew. The coast was dotted with big bare craters, one of which Bharadwaj and Volescu were taking samples in. The planet had a ring, which from our current position dominated the horizon when you looked out to sea. I was looking at the sky and mentally poking at the feed when the bottom of the crater exploded.

I didn’t bother to make a verbal emergency call. I sent the visual feed from my field camera to Dr. Mensah’s, and jumped down into the crater. As I scrambled down the sandy slope, I could already hear Mensah over the emergency comm channel, yelling at someone to get the hopper in the air now. They were about ten kilos away, working on another part of the island, so there was no way they were going to get here in time to help.

Conflicting commands filled my feed but I didn’t pay attention. Even if I hadn’t borked my own governor module, the emergency feed took priority, and it was chaotic, too, with the automated HubSystem wanting data and trying to send me data I didn’t need yet and Mensah sending me telemetry from the hopper. Which I also didn’t need, but it was easier to ignore than HubSystem simultaneously demanding answers and trying to supply them.

In the middle of all that, I hit the bottom of the crater. I have small energy weapons built into both arms, but the one I went for was the big projectile weapon clamped to my back. The hostile that had just exploded up out of the ground had a really big mouth, so I felt I needed a really big gun.

I dragged Bharadwaj out of its mouth and shoved myself in there instead, and discharged my weapon down its throat and then up toward where I hoped the brain would be. I’m not sure if that all happened in that order; I’d have to replay my own field camera feed. All I knew was that I had Bharadwaj, and it didn’t, and it had disappeared back down the tunnel.

She was unconscious and bleeding through her suit from massive wounds in her right leg and side. I clamped the weapon back into its harness so I could lift her with both arms. I had lost the armor on my left arm and a lot of the flesh underneath, but my non-organic parts were still working. Another burst of commands from the governor module came through and I backburnered it without bothering to decode them. Bharadwaj, not having non-organic parts and not as easily repaired as me, was definitely a priority here and I was mainly interested in what the MedSystem was trying to tell me on the emergency feed. But first I needed to get her out of the crater.

During all this, Volescu was huddled on the churned up rock, losing his shit, not that I was unsympathetic. I was far less vulnerable in this situation than he was and I wasn’t exactly having a great time either. I said, “Dr. Volescu, you need to come with me now.”

He didn’t respond. MedSystem was advising a tranq shot and blah blah blah, but I was clamping one arm on Dr. Bharadwaj’s suit to keep her from bleeding out and supporting her head with the other, and despite everything I only have two hands. I told my helmet to retract so he could see my human face. If the hostile came back and bit me again, this would be a bad mistake, because I did need the organic parts of my head. I made my voice firm and warm and gentle, and said, “Dr. Volescu, it’s gonna be fine, okay? But you need to get up and come help me get her out of here.”

That did it. He shoved to his feet and staggered over to me, still shaking. I turned my good side toward him and said, “Grab my arm, okay? Hold on.”

He managed to loop his arm around the crook of my elbow and I started up the crater towing him, holding Bharadwaj against my chest. Her breathing was rough and desperate and I couldn’t get any info from her suit. Mine was torn across my chest so I upped the warmth on my body, hoping it would help. The feed was quiet now, Mensah having managed to use her leadership priority to mute everything but MedSystem and the hopper, and all I could hear on the hopper feed was the others frantically shushing each other.

The footing on the side of the crater was lousy, soft sand and loose pebbles, but my legs weren’t damaged and I got up to the top with both humans still alive. Volescu tried to collapse and I coaxed him away from the edge a few meters, just in case whatever was down there had a longer reach than it looked.

I didn’t want to put Bharadwaj down because something in my abdomen was severely damaged and I wasn’t sure I could pick her up again. I ran my field camera back a little and saw I had gotten stabbed with a tooth, or maybe a cilia. Did I mean a cilia or was that something else? They don’t give murderbots decent education modules on anything except murdering, and even those are the cheap versions. I was looking it up in HubSystem’s language center when the little hopper landed nearby. I let my helmet seal and go opaque as it settled on the grass.

We had two standard hoppers: a big one for emergencies and this little one for getting to the assessment locations. It had three compartments: one big one in the middle for the human crew and two smaller ones to each side for cargo, supplies, and me. Mensah was at the controls. I started walking, slower than I normally would have because I didn’t want to lose Volescu. As the ramp started to drop, Pin-Lee and Arada jumped out and I switched to voice comm to say, “Dr. Mensah, I can’t let go of her suit.”

It took her a second to realize what I meant. She said hurriedly, “That’s all right, bring her up into the crew cabin.”

Murderbots aren’t allowed to ride with the humans and I had to have verbal permission to enter. With my cracked governor there was nothing to stop me, but not letting anybody, especially the people who held my contract, know that I was a free agent was kind of important. Like, not having my organic components destroyed and the rest of me cut up for parts important.

I carried Bharadwaj up the ramp into the cabin, where Overse and Ratthi were frantically unclipping seats to make room. They had their helmets off and their suit hoods pulled back, so I got to see their horrified expressions when they took in what was left of my upper body through my torn suit. I was glad I had sealed my helmet.

This is why I actually like riding with the cargo. Humans and augmented humans in close quarters with murderbots is too awkward. At least, it’s awkward for this murderbot. I sat down on the deck with Bharadwaj in my lap while Pin-Lee and Arada dragged Volescu inside.

We left two pacs of field equipment and a couple of instruments behind, still sitting on the grass where Bharadwaj and Volescu had been working before they went down to the crater for samples. Normally I’d help carry them, but MedSystem, which was monitoring Bharadwaj through what was left of her suit, was pretty clear that letting go of her would be a bad idea. But no one mentioned the equipment. Leaving easily replaceable items behind may seem obvious in an emergency, but I had been on contracts where the clients would have told me to put the bleeding human down to go get the stuff.

On this contract, Dr. Ratthi jumped up and said, “I’ll get the cases!”

I yelled, “No!” which I’m not supposed to do; I’m always supposed to speak respectfully to the clients, even when they’re about to accidentally commit suicide. HubSystem could log it and it could trigger punishment through the governor module. If it wasn’t hacked.

Fortunately, the rest of the humans yelled “No!” at the same time, and Pin-Lee added, “For fuck’s sake, Ratthi!”

Ratthi said, “Oh, no time, of course. I’m sorry!” and hit the quick-close sequence on the hatch.

So we didn’t lose our ramp when the hostile came up under it, big mouth full of teeth or cilia or whatever chewing right through the ground. There was a great view of it on the hopper’s cameras, which its system helpfully sent straight to everybody’s feed. The humans screamed.

Mensah pushed us up into the air so fast and hard I nearly leaned over and everybody who wasn’t on the floor ended up there.

In the quiet afterward, as they gasped with relief, Pin-Lee said, “Ratthi, if you get yourself killed—”

“You’ll be very cross with me, I know.” Ratthi slid down the wall a little more and waved weakly at her.

“That’s an order, Ratthi, don’t get yourself killed,” Mensah said from the pilot’s seat. She sounded calm, but I have security priority, and I could see her racing heartbeat through MedSystem.

Arada pulled out the emergency medical kit so they could stop the bleeding and try to stabilize Bharadwaj. I tried to be as much like an appliance as possible, clamping the wounds where they told me to, using my failing body temperature to try to keep her warm, and keeping my head down so I couldn’t see them staring at me.

PERFORMANCE RELIABILITY AT 60% AND DROPPING

Our habitat is a pretty standard model, seven interconnected domes set down on a relatively flat plain above a narrow river valley, with our power and recycling system connected on one side. We had an environmental system, but no air locks, as the planet’s atmosphere was breathable, just not particularly good for humans for the long term. I don’t know why, because it’s one of those things I’m not contractually obligated to care about.

We picked the location because it’s right in the middle of the assessment area, and while there are trees scattered through the plain, each one is fifteen or so meters tall, very skinny, with a single layer of spreading canopy, so it’s hard for anything approaching to use them as cover. Of course, that didn’t take into account anything approaching via tunnel.

We have security doors on the habitat for safety but HubSystem told me the main one was already open as the hopper landed. Dr. Gurathin had a lift gurney ready and guided it out to us. Overse and Arada had managed to get Bharadwaj stabilized, so I was able to put her down on it and follow the others into the habitat.

The humans headed for Medical and I stopped to send the little hopper commands to lock and seal itself, then I locked the outer doors. Through the security feed, I told the drones to widen our perimeter so I’d have more warning if something big came at us. I also set some monitors on the seismic sensors to alert me to anomalies just in case the hypothetical something big decided to tunnel in.

After I secured the habitat, I went back to what was called the security ready room, which was where weapons, ammo, perimeter alarms, drones, and all the other supplies pertaining to security were stored, including me. I shed what was left of the armor and on MedSystem’s advice sprayed wound sealant all over my bad side. I wasn’t dripping with blood, because my arteries and veins seal automatically, but it wasn’t nice to look at. And it hurt, though the wound seal did numb it a little. I had already set an eight-hour security interdiction through HubSystem, so nobody could go outside without me, and then set myself as off-duty. I checked the main feed but no one was filing any objections to that.

I was freezing because my temperature controls had given out at some point on the way here, and the protective skin that went under my armor was in pieces. I had a couple of spares but pulling one on right now would not be practical, or easy. The only other clothing I had was a uniform I hadn’t worn yet, and I didn’t think I could get it on, either. (I hadn’t needed the uniform because I hadn’t been patrolling inside the habitat. Nobody had asked for that, because with only eight of them and all friends, it would be a stupid waste of resources, namely me.) I dug around one handed in the storage case until I found the extra human-rated medical kit I’m allowed in case of emergencies, and opened it and got the survival blanket out. I wrapped up in it, then climbed into the plastic bed of my cubicle. I let the door seal as the white light flickered on.

It wasn’t much warmer in there, but at least it was cozy. I connected myself to the resupply and repair leads, leaned back against the wall and shivered. MedSystem helpfully informed me that my performance reliability was now at 58 percent and dropping, which was not a surprise. I could definitely repair in eight hours, and probably mostly regrow my damaged organic components, but at 58 percent, I doubted I could get any analysis done in the meantime. So I set all the security feeds to alert me if anything tried to eat the habitat and started to call up the supply of media I’d downloaded from the entertainment feed. I hurt too much to pay attention to anything with a story, but the friendly noise would keep me company.

Then someone knocked on the cubicle door.

I stared at it and lost track of all my neatly arrayed inputs. Like an idiot, I said, “Uh, yes?”

Dr. Mensah opened the door and peered in at me. I’m not good at guessing actual humans’ ages, even with all the visual entertainment I watch. People in the shows don’t usually look much like people in real life, at least not in the good shows. She had dark brown skin and lighter brown hair, cut very short, and I’m guessing she wasn’t young or she wouldn’t be in charge. She said, “Are you all right? I saw your status report.”

“Uh.” That was the point where I realized that I should have just not answered and pretended to be in stasis. I pulled the blanket around my chest, hoping she hadn’t seen any of the missing chunks. Without the armor holding me together, it was much worse. “Fine.”

So, I’m awkward with actual humans. It’s not paranoia about my hacked governor module, and it’s not them; it’s me. I know I’m a horrifying murderbot, and they know it, and it makes both of us nervous, which makes me even more nervous. Also, if I’m not in the armor then it’s because I’m wounded and one of my organic parts may fall off and plop on the floor at any moment and no one wants to see that.

“Fine?” She frowned. “The report said you lost 20 percent of your body mass.”

“It’ll grow back,” I said. I know to an actual human I probably looked like I was dying. My injuries were the equivalent of a human losing a limb or two plus most of their blood volume.

“I know, but still.” She eyed me for a long moment, so long I tapped the security feed for the mess, where the non-wounded members of the group were sitting around the table talking. They were discussing the possibility of more underground fauna and wishing they had intoxicants. That seemed pretty normal. She continued, “You were very good with Dr. Volescu. I don’t think the others realized . . . They were very impressed.”

“It’s part of the emergency med instructions, calming victims.” I tugged the blanket tighter so she didn’t see anything awful. I could feel something lower down leaking.

“Yes, but the MedSystem was prioritizing Bharadwaj and didn’t check Volescu’s vital signs. It didn’t take into account the shock of the event, and it expected him to be able to leave the scene on his own.”

On the feed it was clear that the others had reviewed Volescu’s field camera video. They were saying things like I didn’t even know it had a face. I’d been in armor since we arrived, and I hadn’t unsealed the helmet when I was around them. There was no specific reason. The only part of me they would have seen was my head, and it’s standard, generic human. But they didn’t want to talk to me and I definitely didn’t want to talk to them; on duty it would distract me and off duty . . . I didn’t want to talk to them. Mensah had seen me when she signed the rental contract. But she had barely looked at me and I had barely looked at her because again, murderbot + actual human = awkwardness. Keeping the armor on all the time cuts down on unnecessary interaction.

I said, “It’s part of my job, not to listen to the System feeds when they . . . make mistakes.” That’s why you need constructs, SecUnits with organic components. But she should know that. Before she accepted delivery of me, she had logged about ten protests, trying to get out of having to have me. I didn’t hold it against her. I wouldn’t have wanted me either.

Seriously, I don’t know why I didn’t just say you’re welcome and please get out of my cubicle so I can sit here and leak in peace.

“All right,” she said, and looked at me for what objectively I knew was 2.4 seconds and subjectively about twenty excruciating minutes. “I’ll see you in eight hours. If you need anything before then, please send me an alert on the feed.” She stepped back and let the door slide closed.

It left me wondering what they were all marveling at so I called up the recording of the incident. Okay, wow. I had talked to Volescu all the way up the side of the crater. I had been mostly concerned with the hopper’s trajectory and Bharadwaj not bleeding out and what might come out of that crater for a second try; I hadn’t been listening to myself, basically. I had asked him if he had kids. It was boggling. Maybe I had been watching too much media. (He did have kids. He was in a four-way marriage and had seven, all back home with his partners.)

All my levels were too elevated now for a rest period, so I decided I might as well get some use out of it and look at the other recordings. Then I found something weird. There was an “abort” order in the HubSystem command feed, the one that controlled, or currently believed it controlled, my governor module. It had to be a glitch. It didn’t matter, because when MedSystem has priority—

PERFORMANCE RELIABILITY AT 39%, STASIS INITIATED FOR EMERGENCY REPAIR SEQUENCE.

#elk text #tmd #the murderbot diaries #if you aren't in a position to purchase the books check out (hehe) whether your local library has anything #i know there's audiobooks too and apparently they're pretty good #i tried to indent it and tungl did not like that #tried to make the opening break obvious

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