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#and he finally got a swear word in without bleeping
ironstrange1991 · 1 year
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Forbidden (part 2)
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Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: When Stephen finds out that Y/n is performing at a certain nightclub he decides to go and see her which ends up being the best thing he could have done that night.
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and person being drugged, but basically just fluffy.
Word Count: 4,4k
A/N: Guys, sorry for taking so long to post this chapter, but I'm sure it will be worth the wait.
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You were trying to concentrate on your studies, but your mind kept wandering to anything other than the authors you needed to read in order to write your dissertation. If your lack of inspiration wasn't enough, you still had to deal with the fact that even after a month you still hadn't received any responses about your PhD course and your final year of college was about to start.
You sighed frustrated leaning over the book you were trying to read without success and faced the city of New York through the window. The day was cloudy and a thin, insistent rain persisted throughout the morning. You closed your eyes surrendering to boredom and mental fatigue and when you realized there he was, glorious in his blue robes and red cloak smiling that sideways smile.
Since the day of the party you haven't seen him again and it had been nearly two weeks. You were resisting the idea of ​​calling America and coming up with a reason to go there, but even for a teenager that would seem weird and besides, what good would it do? You didn't want to see him from a distance, you didn't want to just exchange a few words with him, you wanted everything and although you felt that there was tension between you, all that flirting seemed so fruitless and frustrating.
You understood that there was a huge age gap between you and the fact that he met you when you were 15 and then bleeped for 5 years didn't help much. You've aged and matured, but he still seems to see you as a teenager and maybe that's all you'll ever be for him, after all you've spent the last year trying to get him to notice you, but the attention you get never seems genuine enough.
Nat said you should forget about him and try looking for someone your own age, you knew Mike had a crush on you and at 25 he was a more reasonable option than the sorcerer doctor from Bleecker Street. Yet how could you even try? There was no comparison, neither Mike nor any other man would ever match Stephen Strange and he was everywhere, invading your mind at the most inopportune moments.
The best thing to do would be to try to forget him and get over that absurd crush, but how do you abandon hope after he called you sweetheart and kissed you goodnight?
You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a knock on the door.
"Come in" You said sitting up straight and going back to pretending you were reading.
Tony poked his head inside  "Too busy? I can come back later." You shook your head smiling at him "No, come in. I can't study today" You pouted.
He came in and sat at the foot of your bed. You turned to look at him.
"Still no response from NYU? You know I could call them..."
You sighed "I know, but for once I wanted to get something for myself"
He nodded making an exaggerated face "By the way, I got you a meeting with a record company"
You shook your head "Ah Tony, this is not how I wanted things to happen!"
He held up his hands in surrender "I didn't do anything, I swear. The producers who were here got impressed with your music, that's it. Besides, it's just a conversation."
"And who brought the producers here?" You accused. You weren't really mad at him, you were just frustrated because deep down you knew this was going to happen and it wasn't even a bad thing. You shouldn't be complaining at all.
"The meeting will be on Monday, I suggested that Pepper go with you if you agree of course."
You nodded "Thank you" He tapped the mattress calling you to sit next to him and you obeyed, he put his arm around your shoulders and pressed you against his chest resting his chin on your head "You know I want the best for you. I know your father would kick my ass if I didn't take care of you right."
You chuckled "I'm not a kid, Tony." He shrugged "It doesn't change anything for me, I'll still keep taking care of you"
You nodded in silence and he didn't say anything either. You enjoyed spending time with Tony, it was rare because he was always so busy, but when you could you enjoyed the moment. There was no discomfort in the silence, you didn't need to fill it with any futility just so the situation wouldn't be awkward. You were happy with each other's presence.
"I'm going out on a mission tonight and I don't think I'll be back before the start of the week, I want to make sure you're okay before I go."
You looked up in surprise "Is Strange coming with you?" You regretted asking the question the moment the words came out of your mouth. "I mean... I always worry when he's involved because I know the situation is more serious or you wouldn't need a sorcerer's help."
He nodded "Fortunately it's nothing Rhodes and I can't handle on our own, no need to worry."
You agreed "I'll be fine, you don't have to worry. Just promise me you'll be careful, I can't lose you too"
He nodded "You won't lose me, ever. I'll always be here for you."
He patted you on the shoulder and got up "Now enough of that. Happy told me you have a show tonight at a weird night club, his words not mine, and I asked him to come with you, just to put my mind at ease."
You looked at him in surprise and didn't even try to hide your irritation "Tony I don't need a babysitter" He crossed his arms passing a hand over his face "Do this for me, I'll be more relaxed if you let Happy go with you"
You reluctantly agreed and watched him leave. Your cell phone vibrated with messages from America and you smiled to yourself.
America entered the Sanctum through the portal along with Wong and Stephen and threw herself on the sofa in the main room. She kicked off her sneakers and lay down, crossing her legs and answering her cell phone messages.
"Need I remind you that you have homework to finish?" Stephen asked as he walked past her and up the stairs with the typical bad mood of when he was tired. She shrugged "No need but you just did."
He didn't answer and she heard the sound of a door slamming upstairs.
Wong approached, picking up her sneakers and placing them beside the sofa and then extended his hand demanding that she hand over her cell phone.
"Ten more minutes please, I'm just answering my friends messages." Wong sighed "Ten minutes and then go finish the homework" She grimaced "I can't finish my philosophy homework right now, its very complex, I don’t know what to do."
Wong put his hand on his hip like he did when he was thinking "Why don't you ask y/n for help?" America smiled pointing the phone "What do you think I'm doing?"
"Procrastinating" Came Stephen's authoritative voice, he was coming down the stairs carrying a pile of books "She's perfectly capable of finishing it by herself, she's just procrastinating."
America stuck her tongue out at him and continued typing quickly on her cell phone and then celebrated when she got a quick reply "Y/n promised she'll help me, but she can't come today. She said she'll come tomorrow."
Wong nodded "Fine, then you finish the others and save this one for tomorrow." He left the room and Stephen placed the books he was carrying carefully on the book shelf. "Did she say why she can't come today?" He asked and America shrugged "Looks like she has a show tonight and is also studying for her college dissertation." Stephen hummed turning his attention to the books.
Stephen spent the whole day mentally discussing the pros and cons of going to the night club y/n was performing at. It wasn't the kind of place he would frequent, to be quite honest Stephen didn't frequent anywhere, his life in the last few years had been reduced to work on the Kamar Taj and the Sanctum and a few sporadic missions with the Avengers. However, the idea of ​​seeing her again was always something that excited him.
He could wait and see her at the Sanctum the next day since she'd promised America she'd help her with her homework, but a part of him yearned to see her away from there, away from Wong's watchful eyes, to enjoy her presence for a few minutes as if it wasn't wrong or forbidden what he knew it was.
He still clearly remembered when she had America's age and then he turned to dust for 5 years and when he came back she was a woman. He knew she had a crush on him but that was the problem, he could never tell if she really liked him or if it was just innocent flirting. The only thing he was sure of was that there was nothing innocent about the way he looked and thought of her and he felt extremely guilty about all the lewd things that crossed his mind at the most inopportune moments. If only she weren't practically Tony Stark's daughter! No, still. He was twice her age, more than that, for God's sake, what was he thinking? He could be her father!
He sighed heavily as he stared at the change of clothes he'd placed on the bed and before he could change his mind he snapped his fingers and the clothes materialized on his body: a pair of dark jeans, a gray shirt and a suit jacket of a darker shade of gray. He had shaved and trimmed his goatee and his hair was combed neatly to one side. He took one last look in the mirror and Cloaky flew towards him ready to cling on his shoulders.
"Not tonight, buddy" He held it in his hand and shook it once making it shrink in size and then he folded it like a pocket handkerchief and put it in his inside pocket.
He intended to slip through the door unnoticed, but America and Wong were sprawled out on the couch sharing a bowl of popcorn and watching some stupid horror movie. "Where are you going?" America asked curiously turning to face him.
He stopped at the foot of the stair "Out"
She looked at him with elevator eyes "You're going on a date"
Wong just chuckled and Stephen felt slightly offended but decided anything he said would only compromise him further "Don't wait for me"
You were getting ready for your show under Happy's watchful eyes which was making not only you but all your friends uncomfortable.
"Does he really need to stand there staring at us like that?" Susanne, your drummer and also co-founder of the band, asked.
"It's a little scary" complained Mike and you sighed. "I'll talk to him."
You finished your makeup and walked over to Happy who had been standing with his arms crossed immobile for over an hour. "Happy you're scaring my friends" He raised an eyebrow "I'm doing my job."
You sighed "Why don't you take a walk and see if everything is okay out there? It's time to clear the entrance and you can take the opportunity to take a good look at the people who are arriving. You have a great eye for analyzing people ."
He looked undecided. "Mr. Stark asked me not to take my eyes off you." You put your hands on your hips, controlling yourself so as not to lose your temper "He's assigned you to work for me tonight and I need you to go outside and do what I asked." He hesitated a bit, but he did as you said.
Mike, who was lying on the sofa in the small room where you were getting ready strumming the guitar, whistled teasingly "You look beautiful when you get all bossy like that, did you know?"
You rolled your eyes and Susanne laughed "Give up dude."
When Stephen approached the entrance of the night club, he noticed a line of people waiting for the gates to open and decided to stay away to avoid being recognized. Inside in the darker environment with flashing lights it was easier for him to go unnoticed. However, it didn't take long for him to see Tony Stark's head of security, Happy Logan standing in front of the gate watching every person who entered. On one hand he was relieved to know that Stark had bothered to send someone to take care of you, on the other hand it was a huge problem because all he didn't want was Stark to find out that he went to a night club clearly to see you.
He seriously thought about turning around and walking away, but knowing you were there so close to him was too much of a temptation for him to give up now. He made a gesture with his fingers using magic to hide his identity. It was a simple spell really and one he used far too often even though he hated to admit it. The spell distorted his appearance enough that no one recognized him and was only detectable by another magic user.
When he finally entered the club, the halls were already crowded with people with colored hair, tattoos and piercings dressed in leather clothes, buckles and spikes. He particularly liked the nostalgic vibe of the music they played, a mix of post punk and 80's new wave fronted by bands like Joy Division and The Cure, but he also listened Bauhaus, Type O Negative and Siouxsie Sioux among others he didn't know.
He entered the hall where you would perform and sat at a farther table waving to a passing waitress. He ordered a whiskey and waited looking around and at the clock every minute anxious to finally see you and when you got onstage he mentally berated himself for the way his body reacted to you, the least of the problems being the ridiculous erection resulting from the sight of you dressed beautifully in a black leather dress with ripped stockings and combat boots, the worst was the heart racing in his chest and ringing loudly in his ears as he was sucked into a million possibilities of what he would do if he could put his hands on you. Even though there was no one he knew there, and even if there was, no one would recognize him, let alone be able to read his mind, Stephen couldn't help but feel guilty for all his nasty thoughts.
When you came down from the stage with your friends from the band to interact with the people waiting to greet you, Stephen decided not to go there and talk to you. Throughout the night he watched you go from table to table and stop to chat with everyone, laughing that beautiful laugh he so often heard echoing through the Sanctum.
He had enough time to think about it and he had already decided that it would be best to leave without you knowing he was there. Yet when you sat down at the bar and a man approached you, clearly flirting with you, he couldn't help but feel a nagging twinge of jealousy. Besides, even though the man was apparently younger than he was, he was clearly much older than you and that made the blood boil in Stephen's veins.
He scanned the room for Happy Logan but the security guard appeared to have been abducted. Stephen hadn't seen Happy during your entire show and he wondered if something had happened. His instincts were on alert anyway and he didn't even know why.
He watched as you walked away from the bar and headed towards the bathroom and even though he felt bad about it he followed you, watching you from a distance but now with a different purpose, he wanted to make sure you were safe.
You didn't take long to come back accompanied by other girls talking and laughing and to increase his irritation you stopped again at the bar sitting next to the guy who offered you a drink. He sat back watching you tip your head back laughing at whatever stupid joke the guy told you. He knew all that irritation was jealousy. He wanted to be the man talking to you and making you laugh like that. Plus he hated how that guy was touching you, his hand going down your back deliberately as you accepted a second drink from him. Shit, Stephen never touched you like that and there was nothing he wanted more than...
"May I join you?" Stephen looked surprised at the blonde woman with a ponytail dressed in a black velvet dress and combat boots who was smiling at him. He gestured for her to sit down.
"Sorry, I feel like I know you from somewhere." She said smiling
He smirked "Hardly. It's the first time I've been here." She smiles "You can tell by the way you're dressed."
He frowned, pouring the rest of the whiskey from the glass still without taking his eyes off you. "What's wrong with my clothes?" The woman chuckled "They aren't black to begin with." He resisted the temptation to use magic to refill the glass, but instead he stopped the passing waiter and ordered another whiskey and then faced the woman politely "Can I buy you a drink?" She smiles "I'll take what you're drinking. I'm Mary, by the way." He smiles "Stephen" He replied frowning watching you bring your hand to your forehead as if something bothered you.
Mary stared in the same direction he was looking "Ah, Tony Stark's protégé"
Stephen raised an eyebrow at the playful way she said the word. "Do you know y/n?"
She sighed "Everyone knows y/n, she's kind of a star here in NY besides being Stark's goddaughter, but no, I don't know her personally. Do you know her?"
He accepted the drinks the waiter brought and took a long gulp of the whiskey "Yes, I do."
"Then why don't you go talk to her instead of admiring her from a distance? You clearly like her"
He laughs nervously "It's complicated."
Stephen watched you falling from the bench you were sitting on, the way the man wrapped his arms around you and looked around as if he made sure no one was looking was enough for Stephen to understand that something was wrong.
"...she's clearly too privileged to know what she's talking about in her songs..."
Stephen got up grabbing his wallet and taking out some notes and throwing them on the table "Excuse me" He said moving away and walking quickly in time to prevent the man, who had already wrapped his arm around your neck and practically dragged you away from the bar, succeed. He quickly looked around and there was no sign of Happy Logan or any of your friends.
"Hey" Stephen grabbed the man's shoulder and when he turned around, Stephen punched him as hard as he could. His hand hurt, but in that moment he didn't care. The man fell to the ground and you slumped to the side clearly unable to stay on your feet and Stephen wrapped his arms around you slapping your face to try to keep you awake "Hey, are you okay? Talk to me, what are you feeling?"
You stared at him in confusion, your head spinning too fast to see his face. Stephen moved his fingers quickly when the man tried to get up keeping him on the ground. A group of security guards approached and Stephen moved his fingers again, disappearing with his disguise. Some people who were crowding around to see the scene turned on their cameras to photograph him the moment they recognized him.
"Stephen... is that you?" You asked confused, he didn't answer.
"That man drugged her" Stephen said to security. One of them picked the man off the ground and carried him away. The head of security approached "Doctor Strange"
Stephen greeted him with a nod "Keep that man locked up, I'm sure Tony Stark will want to talk to him"
The head of security nodded "I'll call an ambulance"
Stephen held you tight in his arms, shaking his head "It won't be necessary, I'll take care of her." The security guard nodded and then spoke to the people watching the scene "The show is over guys"
"Stephen... what's going on?" You asked confused, your legs giving out. Stephen took his sling ring out of his pocket and opened a portal to the Sanctum. He took you in his arms and walked through the portal ignoring the amazed wows from the people watching the scene.
You woke up feeling a strange pain in your head and when you opened your eyes everything was spinning. "Fuck" you complained putting your hand on your forehead.
"Believe me, it could have been worse" came a baritone voice from your right. You stared at Stephen sitting in an armchair in the distance.
"What… what happened?"
He got up and walked over to the bed sitting beside you, he placed his hand on your forehead and then cupped your wrist and took your pulse. "You were drugged. If I wasn't there..." He shook his head irritably "I saw Happy Logan there, he was supposed to be taking care of you."
You looked around trying to figure out where you were. Apparently it was one of the Sanctum's many rooms. You sat up still feeling dizzy.
"Slowly, I managed to neutralize some of the substance in your body with a healing spell, but it will take a few hours for all of it to completely leave your system." Stephen sighed "You have no idea the risk you took tonight. If I hadn't been there..." He repeated and then fell silent.
You shook your head still confused "Why...why were you there?"
"I went to see you" He looked at you almost sheepishly like someone who's been caught doing something they shouldn't be doing. "America told me you would perform tonight"
Your heart skipped a beat "Thank you... for saving me."
He nodded "Please be more careful next time."
You frowned "Careful?"
He sighed heavily "I'm sure you've been taught not to drink from other people's cups. It's a basic concept really."
Were you understanding that right? He was blaming you.
"I didn't drink from his cup, he bought me a drink." You replied offended.
"And then had enough time to put whatever it was in your drink when you innocently walked away to go to the bathroom." He stopped, realizing how weird that sounded.
"You... you were stalking me" You accused "And why didn't you go talk to me like a normal person?"
He rested his thumb and index finger on the bridge of his nose "Because I shouldn't have been there in the first place."
You moved to stand up and he grabbed your arms "Where do you think you're going?"
"Home" You said, but he kept you in place.
"You need to rest now, I'll take you home later." You shook your head no "I need to know what happened to Happy, he wouldn't have left me there alone if something hadn't happened."
Stephen had already thought about that too.
"I'll find out what happened, but you need to rest now, please."
You sighed surrendering and stared at your hands without having the courage to look at him. You stayed quite for a few minutes til you had courage to speak again "So... you wanted to see me"
He placed his hand on top of yours "Yes"
You nodded "I am glad that you were there."
He chuckled "Yeah you are welcome"
You shook your head "No I'm not talking about what happened, of course I'm grateful you were there to save me but what I really want to say is I'm glad you came to see me in the first place ."
He smiled and it did not go unnoticed that he still had his hand in yours.
"I was missing you." He confessed and you stared at him in surprise, a dreamy smile playing on your lips and you didn't bother trying to hide it.
"I could have waited to see you tomorrow" He glanced at his watch "Well, today, since you promised you'd help America with her homework, but I couldn't." He exhaled heavily "Now I'm torn between being grateful to be there for you and at the same time I'm in trouble because Stark is going to find out I was there and I don't know how to explain it."
You moved your hand under his and he reached out waiting for you to place your palm over his. Palm to palm.
His hand was so big compared to yours, it was warm and shaking, the rough skin where scars cut into flesh contrasting with your soft, delicate skin.
"Explain it to me then" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.
He touched your face with his other hand, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You felt your whole body tremble with that touch and you were sure it didn't go unnoticed by him.
"I like you, y/n"
You swallowed, "You...like me. What does that mean?"
He smirked tracing your lips with his thumb "It’s the most basic way to explain it, sweetheart"
You nodded "I like you too" Was all you could think to say.
He smiled that beautiful sideways smile, but then he sighed heavily as if the spell was broken, he pulled his hand from yours cleaning his throat and stood up "I'm going to let you sleep now. I'm will call Stark and tell him what happened. "
You shook your head "Tony is out on a mission with Rhodes"
Stephen nodded "I'll call Pottz then."
You nodded, your mind was fuzzy, your head ached and you felt drunk even though you knew that wasn't the case.
"I'll be in the next room, if you need anything just knock." Stephen stated.
You nodded trying to think of something to say so he wouldn't leave but nothing seemed good enough.
"Good night" You said.
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katsukismelaninn · 2 years
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𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝟑 + 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢
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༄ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :: "goodnight kisses"
༄ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :: @katsukistrustychurchshoos
༄ 𝐚/𝐧 :: haven't written in so long and now it feels as if i don't know how to write anymore... anyways, the event started sooner than expected🤷🏽‍♀️
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༄ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 & 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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"Let go off my neck, idiot. Your gonna get us caught."
This was all his fault, he shouldn't have thrown small rocks against your window at 2 am in the damn morning.
"No. Now you have to pay for the consequences, which is.....", you looked at him so he can finish your sentence. He looked at you with little patience plastered on his face.
"Spit it out. I don't speak silence." He grumbled and once again, he tried to pry your arms off of his neck, but failed for the second time.
You rolled your eyes and tightend your grip. "The correct answer was 'goodnight kisses', dum-dum." You moved forward to place a kiss on his pink lips, but he jolted backwards. The look on his face was a look of disgust, betrayal, must you say, he looked at you like you insulted him or some shit.
Your arms fell on your sides and you jutted your bottom lip out to form a pout. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He scoffed. "I already told you. I want my goodnight kisses." You mumbled through your pout.
"I'd rather jump out of your window and crawl back to my house with broken legs and all, than kiss you on your chapped lips." This bitch.
"So you're saying you don't love me anymore, Kats? Is that it?!" You slightly raised your voice, which made Bakugou quickly put his hand on yout mouth to muffle your loud voice.
"Stop being dramatic. You only get one goodnight kiss if you promise to keep your mouth shut, 'kay?" You quickly nod and he moved his and away from your mouth carefully, eyeing you suspiciously.
"C'mon, give me a kiss, a good one and not one of your granny kisses." You said and puckered your lips out and closed your eyes.
*Smooch*
"There, now good bye and good riddance." He mumbled and quickly made his way towards your half way opened window, but he was soon stopped once he felt your grip on his wrist. "Baby, i said not one of your granny kisses. You know, your lips felt wrinkly."
He took a deep breath and looked down at you seated on the edge of your bed, head looking up. He placed his hand on your cheek and his lips found there way against yours.
You sighed into the kiss and you felt the heat creep up to your cheeks. Sadly enough, the moment was ruined when his phone rang. "Shit," Bakugou mumbled under his breath and pulled away to fish his phone out of his pockets.
"It's the old hag." He said as his fingers hovered over the decline call button. "Accept it, she probably figured you snuck out." You said with a giggle. He finally decides to accept, but before he could get his words out, his ear drums almost exploded.
"BAKUGOU KATSUKI, I SWEAR IF YOU RAN AWAY BECAUSE I DIDN'T COME WITH A HAPPY MEAL, I WILL BEAT YOUR ASS WHEN I FIND YOU AT THE NEIGHBOURS HOUSE LIKE LAST TIM-"
*bleep*
You could see the way his ears slowly turned red, you opened your mouth to say something, but he quickly shut you up. "Don't. I don't wanna hear it."
Between laughter, you managed to say, "Okay, okay. But you better get going. I'll see you in the morning when you come pick me up for school."
He hummed and gave you one last peck on your lips, "goodnight, dumbass." He made his way towards your window and you quickly whispered a small "good night, kats." And then he left. The warm feeling of his lips on yours still lingered.
You heard a faint yelp and a thud sound and quickly looked out the window only to see Bakugou limping away. "I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU'D CRAWL BACK HOME?" You semi-yelled, but only got a small "fuck-off" with a middle finger in return.
Serves him right for being a bitch.
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I was listening to an episode of The Bugle podcast this morning, and John Oliver told a story about how the previous week, he’d done a segment on The Daily Show in which he’d called the people of CNN “g-[bleep]”. Normally when a swear word gets censored it’s not hard to tell which one it was, or at least to narrow it down a couple that are pretty interchangeable. But in this case, I could hear him make a “G” sound before the bleep occurred, and I could not for the life of me figure out what he’d said. I don’t know any swear words that start with G.
John told a whole story about how he went on The Daily Show and called CNN [bleep], and because of that, someone else had gone up to him to call him that same [bleep] word, and he found this funny. The story was about the fact that he’d said something rude and then someone else repeated it back to him, and did not go into any further detail about what that word was. So I was still left very confused. It was the G that got me. If the editor hadn’t left in enough of the word for me to hear that it started with G, I could have lived with not knowing. But what word starting with G is so bad that you have to bleep it out of a podcast?
So I went to my folder of Daily Show episodes, which I downloaded a few weeks ago and have been having fun watching intermittently. I checked the date of that Bugle podcast episode and went to the Daily Show episodes from the week before it. I then went to John Oliver’s IMDB page, went down the list of hundreds of Daily Show episodes in which he’d appeared, to see he’d only been in two of the four Daily Show episodes that aired the week before that podcast episode. So I opened the videos for those two Daily Show episodes and started watching them.
Finally (I say “finally” as though going through those episodes was a chore, which of course it wasn’t because it’s a wonderfully funny show and Jon Stewart is a national treasure, but I did really want to know what the word was and every moment that did not reveal that to me was getting frustrating), Jon Stewart talked some shit about CNN, and then he introduced John Oliver to do a related bit. I got excited, knowing I would finally hear the word. Jon Stewart asked John Oliver what he thought of CNN, and John Oliver replied, “They’re g-[bleep].” I then said the words “fuck you” out loud, to my laptop, as I remembered The Daily Show censors swearing too.
Fortunately, that bit went on for a little longer, and John Oliver talked enough for me to figure out what the word was. The word itself got bleeped every time he repeated it, but he elaborated on why he felt that term applied to CNN, and this gave me the context I needed to identify the swear word. My curiosity sated, I went back to listening to the episode of The Bugle.
I don’t often like to praise large companies because they’re all terrible, world ruining entities that own and are owned by other terrible, world-ruining entities. However, at this point, I would like to say thank God for HBO. Because of HBO, John Oliver has been free since 2014 to speak on television without interruption by beeping noises, and I no longer have to do a bunch of cross-referencing detective work to figure out that he called the people of CNN goatfuckers.
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mindthegraveltrap · 5 years
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Kimi Raikkonen's 300th F1 Race - Paddock Tributes: What makes Kimi, Kimi? As he prepares for his 300th F1 race, we asked those who know him best...
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Artemis Fowl: Animated Bloopers
So a couple weeks ago on the Artemis Fowl Incident Report Discord server ( @artemis-fowl-incident-report ), the brilliant @brekkie-bing had an amazing idea. Like how The Lion King and Brother Bear had animated bloopers in the post-credit scenes, she wondered what that would be like if we ever had an animated Artemis Fowl movie or tv series. That is where the greatest, most stupendous chain of ideas was birthed~~
SO MY SWEET PEEPS!! I present to y’all a whole host of bloopers me and a number of other people came up with, and feel free to reblog your own or even draw some of them!! As the great Super Mario says, LETSAGOO!!
Mulch is about to blow a big one, but it just comes out as a squeak
Foaly’s got a scene with a long rant in it, but he keeps jumbling up his words and they do about 76 takes to get it right
Holly writing “Fresh AF” in white marker on Artemis’ sunglasses, when he puts them on in a high tension scene you can here the whole crew in the background laughing
A phone goes off during filming. The ringtone is Madonna’s ‘Papa Don’t Preach’. The phone is Butler’s...
The camera pans on Holly eating some vole curry on set without realising her it’s her scene, her eyes widen as she’s like “OH CRAP ARE WE SHOOTING?”
Holly and Artemis goofing around during the punch take
Holly actually punches him super hard and he’s out cold
Artemis cracking up when he fumbles a line. Like, the voice actors just messing up and taking the piss
That one scene is Book One where Angeline has a weird homemade mannequin thing dressed as Artemis Fowl Senior, and the head just rolls off mid take and everyone bursts out laughing. Artemis is hands on knees screaming at the floor in laughter.
Juliet and Holly strutting and posing in the dressing room with Butler filming them
A full on argument between Argon and Cumulus which slowly delves into insulting each other
When they print out the first translation: “This...is [censor bleep]” cue laughter behind the camera
Julius roots cigar being too strong and he just chokes on the smoke for a painful five minutes while the crew hold in their laughter
Artemis struggles saying ‘I don’t like lollipops’ with a straight face
Footage of the troll fight without audio mixing so it's just Butler grunts and plate mail noises
Holly filming Artemis getting make up done on set
Artemis, glaring: I bet you won't release footage of your hair and makeup getting done
Holly does anyways
He’s getting some face powder on his noggin and Holly warns; “If that stuff gets on my hand when I punch you..”
Artemis, constantly: What's my line? I have so many words.
Artemis: I read the script but it’s all just words
Artemis:...*sigh* LINE???
When they finish a take they all just start dancing randomly cause thank god Artemis finally got his line out
Like Artemis walks into the room all intimidating and then he just stands there and he’s like “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing”
Artemis: L
Juliet: If you say line again I will throw one of the gold bars at you
Like Holly’s just watching and waiting awkwardly
Artemis: And this vial uh contains...llll
Butler: *glaring*
Artemis: llllemonade
Artemis running lines off camera and he's great and intimidating and subtle when he actually knows the words
When the director asks if everyone’s good on lines and they all know the questions for Artemis so they all just look at him
Artemis: Do you people understand how many words this is? This is approaching Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead levels of words
He has to pay up for every fudged line and every time they laugh or have a blank moment
Holly has a swear jar and Artemis has a "line?" jar
Artemis assuming it’s Holly’s line and he’s staring at her and she’s like “BRO ITS YOU”
Holly: That's a quarter in the jar
Artemis: THAT DOES NOT COUNT, I DID NOT SAY IT
Grub juggling the bars of gold cause they’re made of styrofoam and one of them hits trouble
Juliet accidently wacks someone else with her jade ring and she just goes "Oh god. I'm so sorry" repeatedly
Julius and Holly can’t stop laughing when he’s yelling at her
Holly doing the flying into scene and she trips while knocking over the props
Maybe a really heart warming scene where Holly catches Artemis playing Moonlight Sonata on the piano and secretly films him in his element
Mulch’s jaw gets stuck and he’s like “no guys I’m serious I can’t shut my mouth” Holly being like “well there’s a first”
Mulch hides food on set like RDJ during Avengers
Mulch would eat all the food and Holly would go "Goddamnit Mulch, why are you like this."
They come off set to get lunch. Food? Gone
Redoing takes because Mulch has cream cheese on his face
Inexplicably, it's always cream cheese
Even when they don't have any on set
Camera zooms in randomly on someone zoning out and making weird faces as they wait
The fairies being so short that the boom mic comes so low down in shots and it gets really annoying for everyone
Butler like Mufasa getting his voice pitch right as the audio rolls
Foaly: Uhh line? Sorry, it's a really wordy scene
Artemis: So it's okay when he does it?
Foaly: I don't call line nearly as much as you do. Aren't you supposed to be a genius?
Artemis: Aren't you?
Butler: Artemis, remember who you are
Butler: Artemis, I am your father
Juliet: Hell yeah you are
Thank you so much to my peeps who contributed: @brekkie-bing @pokegeek151 @the-local-bookworm and everyone on the discord server who was with us during those crazy, like, 15 minutes.
Once again, feel free to reblog and add your own or even draw some of these out! (Low-key looking at you; @brekkie-bing @iesnoth @hop-a-lot @fowlblue @popsicle-stick @blackhollyshort @talesoftales and all you beautiful artists...pwetty pwease 👉🏽👈🏽)
Have fun darlings!
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starryeyedstories · 3 years
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Prologue
My Heart Will Go On series
Pairing: Poe Dameron x female reader (Titanic AU)
Summary: A visit in hospital from your granddaughter becomes a confessional session that takes you back to the day in 1912 that changed your life forever.
Warnings: Hospital setting, mentions of dying of old age, discussions of a break-up
Disclaimer: Inspired by the movie Titanic which I do not own!
A/N: I’m so excited to start this series and I hope you’ll love it!! Bear in mind that this is the prologue so the man you’re here for isn’t physically in this part but he’ll be here soon...
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A month into your admission, your hospital room was beginning to feel a bit like home- not in the way that meant you were happy to be there, although you didn’t doubt that you would be spending the rest of your life in it. It was simply that you could no longer imagine existing outside of its four walls.
The view of the hospital car park from your window was reliably boring every time you decided to look out at it for want of something better to do. The walls, painted a pale green shade that you would have never chosen yourself, kept out both rain and sun with equal effectiveness. The monitors which you were constantly hooked up to- in case you decided to call it a day before the doctors decided it was your time, you assumed- beeped and bleeped at you at random intervals and never became less annoying. The thin sheets never became less scratchy, the pillows never became less uncomfortable, and the room never became less like a prison cell. 
The only aspect of your room that brought any change of scenery was the tiny television mounted on the wall in the corner. 
Today, it showed you the lunchtime news report, reminding you that outside of the four walls around you life went on. A chirpy blonde reporter babbled on about some subject or other- you had removed one hearing aid a while ago out of boredom- without you paying much attention to her, other than to wonder when you had last looked as young as her and why you hadn't appreciated it more, until a single word caught your attention. 
“-the mystery of what really happened on that fateful night on the Titanic could finally be a mystery no more.”
Your old bones groaned at you in protest as you struggled to sit up in bed, one hand reaching for your abandoned hearing aid and the other turning up the volume on the remote control as you silently cursed your rheumatic fingers for having difficulty simply pressing a button. Finally, you were able to hear the reporter more clearly. 
“After over eighty years, an investigative crew have finally succeeded not only in locating the wreckage of the infamous ship, but in capturing images of it using the latest in underwater technology,” she explained, smiling a bright, empty smile at the camera. You remembered having to smile like that in your youth; it was a smile to please others. “A spokesperson for the research team has stated that the discovery could allow us to finally understand exactly how Titanic met her end on that cold April night, so long ago.”
You remembered exactly how Titanic met her end. 
You remembered the icy shock of the water, colder than you could have ever imagined, a cold that you had never felt the like of since that night. You remembered the screams and how they were the most terrible sound you had heard in your life, until the silence after they stopped became even more terrible. 
Above all else, you remembered him.
The frantic, rapid beeping of your heartbeat monitor snapped you out of the past, and you forced yourself to take deep, gulping breaths of air to calm yourself, but that only served to remind you more of that night, of a ghost’s voice urging you to breathe and keep breathing. You settled for letting your head fall back against your pillows, and snowy white hair lurked at the edge of your vision, reminding you of where you were and how much time had passed since he had made you promise to live. 
You had done well to keep that promise, at least.
On the television, the screen cut to a blue-green haze that gradually focused to reveal the coral-encrusted bow of a ship, and you lifted the remote to switch the television off with an agility you hadn’t displayed in years. You tasted something bitter at the back of your throat at the thought of the world sitting at home, staring at the images with a macabre fascination. To you, it was footage of a tomb being cracked open for entertainment. 
There was something about seeing it all brought to the surface, seeing with your own eyes the decay and decomposition that you knew in your heart had to be going on under the ocean, that took you straight back to that night. You had known yourself as one of the few left alive who had seen the great ship above the waves; it was a burden you had lived with your whole life, and it almost maddened you that the world could now look at it with casual curiosity. 
The sound of your door opening made you surface from your thoughts, and a familiar smiling face in the doorway helped to keep you afloat.
“Hi, Grandma!” Kate greeted you cheerily, closing the door behind herself before coming to kiss your forehead, “How’re you today?”
At nineteen, your granddaughter was beautiful; the spitting image of your late husband, the beloved grandfather she had lost at only nine years old. She was your best friend, and the only member of your family who had made the effort to visit you in hospital at all.
“Hello, my love,” you replied with a fond smile, turning your frail hand over for her to hold, “I’m still here, as you can see.”
She chuckled at your attempt at humour, giving you a reproachful look.
“I’m glad!”
“Have you brought me gossip from outside?” you asked, a running joke between the two of you; television aside, Kate was your only connection to the outside world, and her weekly visits often passed in idle chatter about the lives of celebrities and your mutual relatives. 
She sighed, squeezing your hand, and you frowned at the sad smile on her young face.
“I have gossip for you, but it’s not particularly happy,” she told you, “And it’s about me.” You raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging her to continue, and she sighed again. “James cheated on me.”
“I never liked that boy,” you said immediately, and she chuckled. 
“You never met him, Grandma.”
“And I’m glad of it. He wasn’t good enough for you.”
She didn’t look convinced, and she focused her eyes on her hand in yours; you followed her gaze, no longer alarmed by the sight of how wrinkled and gnarled your hand looked compared hers.
“I just...I thought I loved him,” she admitted quietly, looking up at you with watery eyes, “I thought...well, I thought he was the love of my life. And before you say it, I know it’s stupid to say that at my age.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” you told her earnestly. She gave you a look of disbelief, and you were hesitant to continue, but continue you did. “Y’know...I found the love of my life when I was around your age.”
That got her attention, and the way her eyes brightened at the way your tone hinted at a story behind your words gave you the tiny burst of bravery you needed to keep talking. First, however, there were things that needed to be said.
“If I tell you this story...” You closed your eyes briefly, opened them again, then continued in a serious tone which you weren't used to using on Kate. “You have to swear to me that it doesn’t leave this room. Not even your mother has heard it. Promise me, Kate.”
“I promise,” she said slowly, her brow furrowed in equal measures of curiosity and confusion. 
You nodded, and suddenly you couldn’t find the words to start the story. You had been silent for so many years, so many decades, that you were quite unsure how to speak; it was like a lost language. 
Finally, you found a handful of words that seemed suitable to begin with and, with a final squeeze of your granddaughter’s hand for courage, you began to speak.
“It was a bright morning, and all the world seemed to be gathered on the docks at Southampton...”
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the prologue! If you’d like to be added to the series tag list and/or you have feedback, my ask is here!
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magicman111 · 3 years
Text
A Moth to a Flame - Chapter One
Marcy watched the sun slowly set on Newtopia as she’d done many an evening before. The sharp squawks of the gulls rang through the orange sky. She looked quite the forlorn figure standing by the hotel entrance, the gentle evening breeze that ruffled her cloak underscoring her solitude.
Her eyes remained fixated in the same direction her friend had taken off, maybe in some fleeting fool’s hope she’d change her mind and come sprinting back right into her arms.
Not a chance, Marbles.
Anne was long gone by now. Hopefully, she’d caught up with the Plantars’ fwagon before they reached the city gate. Judging by how quickly she booked it, the odds were in her favor. That girl didn’t make varsity back home for nothing.
Marcy only hoped those sweet, simple frogs knew just how lucky they were to have someone like Anne in their lives.
Sighing, her head lowered, she licked her wounds slowly.
Really? That easy, huh?  
Could Anne have made it any more obvious that she wanted to get out of there faster than she did? After they’d been apart for so long, and for a family of farmer frogs whom she’d known for what? Months?
No, don’t do that, she pulled herself up. It wasn’t right for her to be mad at the Plantars. This wasn’t their fault. Sprig and Polly were a barrel of fun at the slumber party, providing you disregarded their life-threatening encounter with the jelly-fish ghosts. Hop Pop, meanwhile, reminded her so much of her own grandpa it was uncanny. They were sweet, decent folk who’d taken Anne in and kept her safe all this time. It was just...
Her lips twisted into a bitter frown. How else was she supposed to feel but a little rejected?
However, was she really allowed to complain when holding her tongue was so normalised for her by this point? Marcy was a people pleaser, she understood that much about herself. Anytime Anne and Sasha got into an argument, she was there to keep the peace and everyone happy. So if Anna-Banana wanted to spend more time with her bumpkin frog family than her literal best friend since preschool, who was she to say no?
The story with her folks wasn’t all that different either. When they pressured her to keep up her studies, up to and including PSAT prep despite it being years away, she did as she was told like a good girl to make them proud, and they were. She hoped they were.
Goodness knows what they must be thinking right now—
Nope nope nope! Don’t go there, don’t go there.
She’d already lost too much sleep at night ruminating over the unspeakable pain she’d most surely put them through, it was the last thing she needed right now. She tried to do the logical thing and focus on the positives instead. That usually worked.
Anne wouldn’t be away for too long. They’d be together again as soon as Hop Pop’s contacts returned the Box to Wartwood and then it was off to the first of the three temples to get those gems recharged. Once that side quest was done and dusted, it was a simple matter of finding Sasha and making their way home.
Looking down, she caught herself wringing her hands.
Home.
That sure was the plan.
I mean... what else are we supposed to do?
“Always sad to see someone go, isn’t it?”
Marcy quickly wiped her eyes and glanced over her shoulder to greet the towering form of King Andrias.
Almost instantly, her mood perked up a notch. He was the one person whom she trusted, more than anyone else in all of Amphibia. Ever since she first landed outside the city walls, he took her under his wings and ensured her smooth transition into this brave new world.
Andrias was without doubt one of the kindest and wisest people Marcy could have ever hoped to meet. He was a true listener, and there were very few you could say that about, her parents included. How often had he been there to lend both an understanding ear and sage advice over games of flipwart?
Games she won more often than not, she wasn’t humble enough not to brag.
It was also he who sent Marcy on the daring missions that would eventually make her the hero of Newtopian society she was today. All because he recognised the value of her talents beyond passing an exam or helping her friends with their homework. No other 13-year-old had their own solid gold statue adorning a city bridge.
She owed this king a debt she couldn’t possibly repay, but one he was far too altruistic in nature to demand.
Then, why did he look so... solemn?
“Come along, Marcy. We need to talk.”
Maybe it was his serious tone of voice or those specific choice of words, but they made the hair on the back of Marcy’s neck stand on end. In an almost pavlovian manner, she corrected her posture and she held her chin erect.
Shoving whatever remaining conflicted thoughts aside, she silently followed Andrias back to the castle like a pilot fish tailing its great white. She was so puny next to this tremendous salamander, he could crush her with a single blow of his fist if he so chose. Not that a gentle, goofy giant like Andrias would even dream of doing such a thing.
So when he was dead serious, Marcy knew better to zip it, listen, and do as instructed.
Their quiet journey took them all the way back to the castle and into the royal throne room, a place she was all too familiar with by now. To enter this hallowed hall was a privilege bestowed only to a select few. For Marcy, it was where she had her morning debriefs over bugachinos.
Instead of going straight up to the throne for their pow wow as she anticipated, Andrias guided her down a small passageway to their left.
When they made their way up to the statue of what Marcy recognised as one of his ancestors, one of the great rulers of Amphibia, they came to a stop. Andrias then gazed down at her with the most serious look she’d seen him give anyone.
“Marcy, before we go any further,” he spoke sternly, “I need to be absolutely crystal clear about something. Okay?”
“Y-Yes, Andrias?” Marcy asked, shivering a little. She did not like being pulled out of her comfort zone, not like this.
“You’re about to enter the most secret place in all of Newtopia,” he continued, now down on one knee and his hand hovering over her shoulder, as close as they could be to eye level. “What I’m going to show you... I need you to swear you won’t share with another living soul. Not to Anne, not to Lady Olivia, no one. Do you understand? I can’t emphasise this enough, Marcy.”
“Of course,” she answered earnestly, trying to sound more confident. “You know you can always trust me, Andrias.”
A ghost of that warm, fatherly smile returned to his big blue countenance.
“Trust is a hard thing to come by, kid, and you’ve gone above and beyond to earn mine. It’s just that I’m not exaggerating here when I say this is a big one.”
Marcy simply placed one hand over his huge index, the other over her heart.
She smiled back at him sweetly, genuinely, “I promise.”
“Very well.”
Nodding in approval, Adrias rose. He reached out, pushing a luminous coral torch upwards.
It didn’t take an encyclopedic knowledge of ‘Creatures & Caverns’ for Marcy to predict that the statue was going to shift to the left next, revealing the spiralling staircase leading to Frog knows where. She probably should’ve been more surprised, but come on, it wasn’t exactly the first secret passage she’d come across in this castle lately. 
“Follow me,” was all Andrias said, before he pulled off the same coral torch, then proceeded down the stairs without another word. Marcy followed obediently, unable to ignore the unnerving chill that was now travelling up her spine.
Was it... always this cold around here?
Something about all this just felt so unsettling compared to last time. She couldn’t really explain why; she knew she was safe with Andrias and that he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally put her in harm’s way. It was a gut feeling and that sort of thing bugged a rational person like her to no end.
She tried to take her mind off it by hazarding her best guess as to precisely what he was going to show her. Either she did that or started getting all worked up dwelling on Anne again, which she’d rather not at the moment.
Another secret library, perhaps? Probably not, though she wouldn’t be at all disappointed if it was. Maybe there were forbidden texts about the dark arts hidden away down there. Magic users were incredibly rare in Amphibia these days—Marcy had already searched far and wide—so might this be her chance?
Oh, how the very idea of being able to cast actual magic excited her. Being Chief Ranger of the Knight Guard was a great honor and nothing to sneeze at, but to be a powerful sorceress, one who could communicate with spirits, raise the dead, shuffle the orifices on her enemy’s faces—
Okay, rein those snails in, Mar-Mar.
Her musings were interrupted by a strange noise emanating from below. At first she figured it was just her imagination, but the further they continued their descent, the clearer it became.
It sounded an awful lot like beeping. Yes, that was it. A progressively growing cacophony of bleeps, bloops and chirps, the kind she’d expect to hear from a high-tech supercomputer. Something absolutely alien in a world like Amphibia, she and her friends excluded.
Before Marcy could ask Andrias if he heard it too, she was distracted by the emergence of an orange glow chasing away the darkness below. It was a warm, almost heavenly light that conjured the mental image of a crackling fireplace on Christmas morning, protecting you from the snowstorm outside.
The chill in her spine had by now spread to the crown of her head and the tips of her toes. Her throat tightened up. Beads of cold sweat dripped down her forehead.
What the... Marcy could not say a word, only think.
There was something down there. Something greater than any library, however inconceivable that sounded. Whether it was good or bad was irrelevant to her at that moment.
It called her.
The duo finally reached the foot of the staircase and entered the sacred sanctum.
Marcy’s jaw dropped.
“Woah.”
There were no shelves of books. No ancient Amphibian artifacts. There weren’t even any walls that she could make out from where she stood. Just an apparently endless sea of darkness encompassing a large round platform from which both the enticing glow and the lowkey din of beeps originated.
Marcy resumed taking Andrias’ lead as they stepped out onto the platform, the clink-clank of their boots confirming her assumption it was made of metal. The whole thing appeared more at home on an alien spaceship than in the dungeons of a castle.
Upon arriving at its centre, Andrias knelt down on both knees and, much to Marcy’s curiosity, removed his crown and set it down on the floor. She took the hint by following suit.
Any lingering fears melted away the more she basked herself in the radiance. It was as if the beams were steadily pouring into her body, clearing up her headspace, reducing any tension in her body. She recalled a favored memory from when she was five-years-old, when she and Anne spent a whole summer afternoon by the beach. How the tides would come in and out without fail, washing away the ruins of their sandcastles, the seaweed, one of Anne’s sandles and the teeny tiny baby seahorse they rescued.
Like a nice blank canvas.
Was this a private place of worship? Not according to her expansive studies of Amphibian anthropology. Or maybe it was a place for Andrias to meditate away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the castle. Seemed a skosh excessive if that was the case.
“Truly captivating, I know.”
Andrais’ baritone brought Marcy back down to earth. She straightened up and tried to refocus herself. They were down here for an important reason, at least she believed they were.
“One can spend hours down here,” Andrias boomed ominously. “Adrift in their own thoughts and... dreams.” The light cast his face in a rather unnerving shadow as he stared ahead into the void. “But I’m sure you know I haven’t brought you here to show off my retreat from the world.” He took a long, deep breath, like he was mentally steeling himself for what he said next, “As much as it pains me to say it, I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely truthful with you, Marcy.”
He produced from his sleeve what appeared at first glance to be two giant pieces of parchment and unfolded them neatly on the metal surface. A closer inspection told Marcy they were in fact pages torn from an exceptionally large book. Judging not only by the size, but the font and format as well, she easily pieced together its origin.
“Are these...?”
“From the book we “found” in the wing?” Andrias chuckled mirthlessly. “Yes. Still kinda surprised you didn’t pick up there were pages missing, but that's not important right now. Please, read.”
The platform provided ideal reading light. Marcy’s ability to read at a 12th Grade level meant she cruised through the text and finished within minutes.
She read it once, then twice. A third and fourth time just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.
Her bottom began to tremble.
No... Nononono, this... this can’t be right. I-It’s impossible! How in the world can it...?!
No amount of curative rays could unfreeze the blood in her veins. The metaphorical pistons in her brain were firing on full cylinders in a vain attempt to digest this earth-shattering information. For a split second, she thought she was going to pass out.
Desperate, she turned to the stone-faced Andrias to plead for some kind of answer, but she found no words with which to speak. All the personal growth and development that made her Newtopia’s champion had been stripped of her and she was reduced to nothing more than a helpless lost toddler.
A comforting set of giant digits placed themselves under her chin, the same way a father would do for his daughter.
“All this time, I’ve been testing you,” Andrias told her, his voice full of pride. “The games of flipwart, the missions, the “secret library”, even the barbari-ant colony I had lured to the city. I was watching you, studying your every action. With each challenge I issued, you excelled my expectations. You’re an exceptionally talented human being, Marcy, truly worthy of the name ‘Wu’.”
Even if these words were meant to serve as comfort or encouragement, they had only the opposite effect for Marcy. Tears were leaking out the corners of her eyes.
She mustered only a pitiful whimper, “I-I don’t understand.”
“Don’t worry, kiddo,” he promised, “you will soon enough. He’s so excited to meet you.”
“... He?”
Lifting his mighty hand in the air, he thrusted it into the nothingness facing them. Marcy instinctively followed its direction.
“Marcy Wu,” Andrias’ thundering voice resonated throughout the sanctuary, “allow me to introduce you... to my master.”
No sooner had he finished, the whole world started to tremble at Marcy’s knees, throwing her off her balance. A rumbling, mechanical ROAR struck her ears so loud she had to cover them to protect the drums from rupture. Yet despite this sensory assault, she somehow forced her eyes to stay wide open. She needed to face whatever was coming.
Marcy gazed into the abyss.
And the abyss gazed back with all thirteen of its eyes.
Terror. Pure mounting terror overwhelmed every cell of her being. Her pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks. If her mouth stretched any wider, her jaw risked snapping clean off its hinges.
Everything around her faded into black. Andrias, the platform and its glow, the beeping, all vanished into the ether. All now that existed were herself and those colossal demonic eyes plucked from the deepest recesses of her nightmares, their leer burrowing into her very soul.
Marcy wanted to scream until she coughed up her lungs. Moreso, she just wanted to wake up. This was all a dream, it had to be. A lucid dream that had gone on for far too long. She and her friends weren’t in another dimension inhabited by talking frogs, such a notion was a scientific absurdity. She sure as heck wasn’t a ranger in some anthropomorphic newt army.
Any moment now, her wizard kitty alarm would ring and she’d wake up in her soft, cozy bed. Dad would have left for work by now, planting a goodbye kiss on her sleeping forehead as he did every morning since she was little. Mom would be already making her her favorite congee rice and youtiao for breakfast. Then she would begin the process of packing up her room for the big move to Oregon like a good girl.
Yes, she would even happily do that. Anything to bring an end to this ordeal!
Shhhh
Her train of thought screeched to a sudden halt.
Marcy
It’s gonna be okay
And just like that, as if those were the five magic words required, everything was fine again. No more panic, no more existential terror. Her heart rate lowered to a steady, non-life threatening level.
The tide had risen up and washed Marcy’s mind clean.
Like a nice blank canvas.
What quickly followed was an epiphany of sorts.
There was nothing for her to fear. Once she accepted that fact, the warm sensation from before returned greater than ever, engulfing her in what could only be described as a spiritual hug. She could feel the pair of hands, tender as her own mother’s, caressing her face and flicking away her tears. They even ruffled her raven hair in the same playful manner.
Come to me, daughter of Wu
Let me get a good look at you
Marcy obeyed. Getting down on all fours, she crawled across the nonexistent ground—the laws of physics evidently had no place here—until her face and the eyes’ chief pupil were within inches of each other.
Fresh tears, now ones of ecstasy, trickled down her cheeks and evaporated in the pulsating heat.
“You’re beautiful.”
I know
We’ve gotta lot to talk about, Marcy
And I have a feeling...
You and I are gonna become the best of friends
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neo-culture-taste · 4 years
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Subscribe! - Say ‘Yes’ to Me
Pairing: Doyoung x Reader (fem)
Genre: AU, romance, comedy, fluff
Word count: 3706
Summary: A YouTube inspired drabble series where you and your boyfriend upload videos catering to the couple tag.
Author’s Note: Whoops! :p Had too much fun with this one.  - D
For other members, see masterlist.
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The video opened with Doyoung holding the camera as he checked himself out in the bathroom mirror. He stood there and messed with his hair for what seemed like forever, but was actually only a few seconds, until he was satisfied with the placements of the strands. He proceeded to smile into the lens, changing the angle of his head until he found the exact spot where he thought the right side of his face presented to be the most flattering. It was pointless since he looked good at every angle no matter which way he was facing.
"Hello, everyone," he greeted the audience. "The day has finally come for Y/N’s punishment, mwah ha ha." He added a maniacal laugh at the end as if he were some sort of super villain. "If you remember last week's video, Y/N lost the game and I asked you all to come up with a penalty for her. The highest voted comment was a challenge where she has to say 'yes' to me for 24 hours, which is perfect since she already has a hard time doing what I say in the first place. I know that's why you chose it. You all even added that if she doesn't comply with my wishes, then she gets an additional penalty at the end. You all want to see her suffer and that's truly messed up!" He laughed and then switched the camera to his other hand. "Y/N is still in bed, so let's go wake her up so we can start this challenge."
Doyoung walked to the bathroom door, opened it, and walked through it to reveal you snoozing comfortably in your shared bed. He walked over to the side of the bed and held the camera to your unsuspecting face. He patted you on the shoulder but you didn't budge so he tried it again. You stirred a little and mumbled something, but you still didn't open your eyes. He called your name and tapped you on your face before you finally opened your eyes to give your boyfriend your grouchiest of morning death glares, eliciting a breathy laugh from him behind the camera.
"What the *bleep* are you doing?" you asked him in your grogginess. It was easy to tell that you were not a morning person. 
"Good morning, my love," he said, too cheerful for your current state of mind. "Do you remember what today is?"
You blinked slowly as you stared at your boyfriend with a blank expression. "Saturday?"
"Besides that."
You looked up at the ceiling as you tried to remember exactly what day it was. "June--"
"It's punishment day, Y/N," he said, cutting you off to quickly get to the point. Knowing you, you were going to try and go around the subject as long as you could.
"Ugh," you groaned and covered your face with the comforter. 
"You have to do everything I ask you for the whole day."
"No," you said in defiance from beneath the cover. 
"Luckily for you we haven't started yet." He pulled the cover away from your face then held the camera up so he appeared in the frame next to you. "My first order is for you to give me a kiss. Will you give me a kiss?"
You side eyed your boyfriend, suspicious of how easy of a request that was. Surely he wasn't going to be that nice for the whole day. You reluctantly agreed to kiss him and sat up on your forearms to kiss him on his lips. 
"Thank you. Now," he lifted himself away from you to stand up straight again, "will you go make me breakfast?" See. You knew it wasn't going to stay easy.
"But you're the one that always makes breakfast. I don't think my cooking will be up to your standards," you explained to him with faux concern as you tried to talk your way out of doing it. "You should make it yourself."
Doyoung clicked his tongue behind his teeth. "Tch. Look at this woman. If you don't do what I ask, then you'll get a penalty added on at the end."
Your face twisted in disbelief. "But this is already a penalty! A punishment!"
Doyoung laughed at your comical facial expression. "Yeah, so don't make this worse for yourself."
"What's the penalty for not listening?"
"Nope. Not telling you."
"I'm not getting up until you tell me."
"The longer you lay there the more time will be added on to your penalty."
You groaned and flopped your upper body back down onto the bed. "Uuuuuugh, fine! You're annoying me! Yes, I'll make you breakfast. Now go away so I can brush my teeth in peace."
The scene changed to you standing in front of your kitchen counter that had an assortment of different ingredients set out on top of it. Doyoung had already set everything up for you to cook for him whether you obeyed him or not.
"I want you to make me strawberry pancakes. Will you do that without complaining?"
You rolled your eyes but smiled at his sass anyway. "Yes, I will. However…”
“Yes?”
“If I’m going to play this game, I will need you to start adding ‘please’ after every request.”
“Fine. I can do that.”
“Great.” You began putting the dry ingredients into one of the bowls, appreciative that he printed out the directions for you because you sure as hell didn't remember how to make pancakes from scratch. After whisking all of that together, it was time to do the same with the wet ingredients. But you didn't see a point in doing it in a separate bowl when you were just going to mix it all together anyway, so you decided to just put everything into the bowl with the dry stuff.
"Ah--" Doyoung suddenly interjected as soon as you put the liquid vanilla extract into the dry mixture.
"What?" you asked him even though you already knew exactly what he was going to say.
He brought the camera to look at the vanilla in the bowl then back out to look at the directions he printed out. "This didn't say to put that in there yet," he said then put the camera back onto you.
"I'm supposed to be listening to you, not a piece of paper," you sassed him then picked up the egg to break it.
Doyoung scoffed and began to roll his eyes until he saw what you were about to do with the egg. "Y/N, stop!"
"Why!"
"At least beat the egg before you put it in there."
"It's all going to be mixed anyway."
"Yeah, but it'll mix better if you--"
You lifted the egg then hit it on the side of the bowl.
"Don't you dare."
You brought your other hand up to break the egg open over the bowl.
"Y/N, I swear."
"My dearest Doyoung. I am making your breakfast like you asked of me," you said with a saccharine tone of voice. "So please back tf up off me."
Your boyfriend's lips rolled inward in annoyance even as he tried to suppress his smile. You loved giving him a hard time because the faces he made whenever you got on his nerves were so gosh darn cute. "And you're supposed to be doing what I say. I want you to mix the ingredients the correct way. Will you mix them like the directions say, please?"
You tilted your head to the side and smiled sweetly at him. "Of course I…won't!" 
"No! Please no!”
You cracked open the egg and Doyoung zoomed the camera into the bowl as the yolk plopped unceremoniously on top of the other ingredients. He then sighed heavily and put the camera back onto you as you measured out the amount of milk you were going to put in next.
"That's ten seconds added onto your penalty," he reprimanded.
"Worth it." You winked at him and put the rest of the wet ingredients into the bowl and mixed everything together. 
The next couple of clips were sped up as you went through the rest of the process of making the pancakes while Doyoung fussed at you for one reason or another. The video went back to regular speed as you put the last hot pancake onto a plate and drizzled strawberry syrup on top of the whole stack. You then served it to your boyfriend who was now waiting patiently for his breakfast at the table. He handed the camera to you and you focused it on him meticulously cutting into the pancakes with a fork and knife. He tasted his first piece and carefully chewed it as if he were a judge on a cooking show about to make his evaluation.
“You didn’t follow the directions word for word, but you still did a great job.”
“Duh. Because I’m awesome,” you said and Doyoung put another piece onto his fork and held it up for you to taste. You ate it and immediately hummed in satisfaction, quite proud of how delicious the food you made turned out to be. “Oh my gosh, I’m amazing.”
“Yes. You have pleased me,” your boyfriend said exaggeratedly proper. “You may go about your scheduled activities for the day until I am in need of your assistance again.”
You chuckled at the funny way he was speaking. “Yes, sir.” You leaned over to kiss him goodbye. Now your lips were covered in strawberry syrup.
The clip changed to early afternoon with Doyoung adjusting the camera on it’s mini  tripod in front of the couch he was sitting on. He once again fiddled with the hair in front of his face like it actually did something before leaning back comfortably onto the couch.
“Y/N!” he called out to you requesting your presence.
“What!” your faint voice yelled back from the other side of the house.
“I desire cuddles!” 
Skeptical of his intentions once again, you hesitated in responding. “That's it?”
“Will you come sit with me on the couch?” he asked you in the format related to the challenge.
“Will you come sit with me on the couch, what?”
He scoffed. “Will you come sit with me on the couch, please.”
You weighed out your options. So far he hadn’t asked you anything too physically demanding, and on any other day you’d use any excuse to snuggle up to your boyfriend. But today there was definitely going to be a twist added onto Doyoung’s so called ‘cuddles’. You reluctantly walked into the living room and Doyoung held his arms open wide upon your arrival. You sat down next to him and he wrapped his arms around you in a hug so tight you could barely move around. You knew he was up to something.
“How long are we going to stay like this?” you asked with your head against his shoulder.
“Until I’m ready to let go,” he said, then laid down on the couch so both of you were on your sides. “Are you comfortable?”
He knew damn well you weren’t comfortable. “No,” you answered him.
"That's time added on to your penalty." That sneaky fox!
“That doesn't count!" you protested.
“You're supposed to say yes to everything, remember?" you couldn’t see his face, but the camera caught the sly grin that spread across his lips.
"You set me up!"
“Hush, Y/N. Enjoy our time together.”
Wanting to get back at him, you maneuvered your arms the best you could to tickle his sides. He jerked in surprise and almost let go of you, but he held strong and somehow squeezed you even tighter.
“Don’t touch me. You’re not allowed to do that,” he said through clenched teeth as he squirmed around you.
“You can’t hold me like this and expect me not to touch you,” you said then wrapped your legs around his, binding him in place.
“Stop! Let me go,” he said in weak protest knowing his plan had backfired.
“I’ll let you go when you let me go.”
“You’re supposed to be listening to me!” he whined and you couldn't help but laugh at his dismay. 
“You’re the one that wanted to cuddle.”
Doyoung released his hold around you in an attempt to push you away from him, but you had latched onto him like a baby koala and you didn’t plan on letting go any time soon. While he was trying to wrestle you off of him, the two of you ended up tumbling off of the couch, and the camera shook on its tripod when your bodies thudded to the floor. As the two of you laughed, Doyoung rolled over so you were on top of him while you continued to hold him tightly.
“Ten more seconds added. The length of your punishment is steadily increasing,” he said after catching his breath. The words appeared on the screen for your viewers since the two of you were no longer in the frame nor were you in a good range for the camera's microphone.
You smiled brightly at your boyfriend then kissed him before moving to snuggle your face into his chest. Once again you didn’t care how long your punishment ended up as long as you got to tease him and push his buttons. You didn't know how long the two of you were on the floor as you continued to give him a taste of his own medicine in the form of an overenthusiastic, loving embrace.
In the next scene, Doyoung brought you outside sometime in the evening and instructed you to wash his car. You look at him appalled and he simply handed you a bucket of soapy water and a big sponge before walking over and sitting down in the lawn chair he had set up prior in the garage. You grumbled to yourself about getting back at him then begrudgingly dunked the sponge into the bucket. At least he had said please this time without you asking. The video fast-forwarded through you soaping down his car and went back to normal speed when you picked up the water hose to rinse it off. 
“You’re rinsing it off already?” Doyoung had been fiddling around on his phone the whole time and hadn’t realized how far you’d gotten in the cleaning and became skeptical of whether you half-assed it or not. 
“Yes, my darling,” you answered him sarcastically as you began hosing the soap off of the car.
He got up from his seat and brought the camera over to inspect your car washing skills. You saw him walking behind you trying to find any spot that you might have missed and decided to splash him with the water on his ankles. 
“Hey!” he skipped back and yelped in surprise.
“Hi,” you said with a cheeky grin and pointed the hose directly at him. “Go back to your chair and let me finish this in peace while I’m still deciding to listen to you,” you playfully threatened him.
“You won’t spray me while I’m holding the camera,” he taunted back at you.
“I have great aim.” You twisted the dial on the hose to the jet stream setting and readied your finger on the trigger as a warning. “Besides, we can buy a new one.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh sweetie, you know I will.”
There was a short moment of silence between you and your boyfriend before he turned around and quickly ran back to his seat in the garage. You smiled triumphantly and turned back to finish rinsing off the car. But you had forgotten to change the setting on the hose back to the shower stream, so when you sprayed the car at close range a lot of the water came splashing back onto you. You shrieked in surprise and took a step back but ended up slipping and falling into the wet grass of your lawn.
Although he was laughing at your expense, Doyoung still jumped up from his seat and ran over to you to see if you were okay. He laughed even harder when he saw that you were fine, but one side of your body was now covered in soap and mud.
“That’s what you get for being mean to me,” he said as he helped pull you up from the ground. He then used the clean side of your shirt to wipe the mud off of his hand.
“This is all your fault!” 
“You’re the one that lost the game.”
“Man, I really like this shirt, too--” Suddenly, an idea to save your t-shirt from staining popped into your head. You bent over and grabbed the hose off the ground, made sure to change the setting back to the shower stream, then you used it to wash off all of the mud on your body.
“Oh, that’s pretty smart,” Doyoung commended your resourcefulness until he realized that you were purposely wetting your shirt and making it damn near see through as it clung tantalizingly to every curve of your torso. “Wait, Y/N. Ring that out so we don’t get demonetized.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion before you looked down at your wet shirt and realized what he was talking about. “This is going to get us demonetized?” you asked incredulously. You were still fully clothed. Just wet. 
Doyoung nodded and moved the camera up and down to simulate it. And that was when you  took notice of the way your boyfriend was staring at you and realized what was actually going on inside his head. 
You put on a knowing smirk and placed a hand on your hip. “Are you just saying that because you don’t want the internet to see me looking so irresistibly sexy?”
Doyoung was silent as he shook his head and the camera from side to side.
“Are you also saying that because you don’t want our neighbors to see me like this either?”
He shook his head and the camera again.
“Are you lying to me right now?”
Caught in his ruse, Doyoung nodded and moved the camera up and down.
“Well, you haven’t even seen ‘sexy’ yet,” you said before hopping up to sit on the hood of his car and pose seductively as you sprayed the water directly onto your chest.
“Y/N, WHAT THE *BLEEP*! GET DOWN!” Your boyfriend sputtered as he spun around with the camera to see if any of your neighbors were outside or looking through their windows. He ran over to the faucet of the watering hose and turned off the water before running back to you and dragging you off the hood of his car and into the garage. 
You were laughing your ass off at his reaction and told your viewers that you wished they could see how red his face had gotten but you knew he wasn’t going to show them how annoyed and embarrassed he was. After catching your breath, you tried to hug him to make it up to him but he took a step back to dodge your damp embrace.
“That's ten more seconds added onto your penalty.”
You giggled and whined for him to hug you, but he backed away again. “Doie!”
“Now go inside and take a shower.”
“Yes, sir~” you complied happily,  ignoring his absent ‘please’. You were about to go into the house, but you didn’t want to make a mess on the floor. “I can’t go in with these wet clothes,” you told him.
Your boyfriend sighed. “You're right. Let me get you a towel--Y/N STOP!” Doyoung all but screeched when he saw you lifting up your wet t-shirt, ready to yank it off over your head.
The video changed to the next clip of Doyoung barging into your bedroom and announcing that it was time for your punishment. You sat up in the bed and inspected him as he sat on the bed next to you. He didn’t have anything in his hands other than the camera despite being in the kitchen for so long doing who knows what. You figured he was going to make you eat something, but alas, his hands were empty.
“I’m going to kiss you all over your face for a whole minute,” he told you as he sat the camera onto the nightstand and adjusted it so you both were in the frame. 
“Why is that a punishment? Was that the best you could come up with?”
“Shush. You’ll see,” he said, then brought his face close to yours as he parted his lips and purposely breathed his rancid breath into your nostrils. It reeked of garlic and onions.
“Ew! Doyoung! What the hell!”
“I said shush!” he silenced you by grabbing the sides of your head and began peppering stinky kisses all over your face. 
Your face was scrunched up in disgust, but you endured it by holding your breath for the entire sixty seconds of semi-delightful torture. When it got to the end of the minute, Doyoung ended your ‘punishment’ with an open mouthed kiss to your lips and you were indeed able to taste the offensive vegetables.
“Blegh!” you exclaimed after he let go of your head. “That was awful.”
“That was the point,” he said then pulled you into a one armed hug. “You did pretty okay today and got through it even though you struggled to follow directions.” Aw, he was being so nice saying that you only ‘struggled’ instead of not listening to him completely.
“Don’t worry I’m going to get you back for everything,” you said and kissed him on his cheek.
“Not unless you lose again and I’ll have to make a part two of this video.”
“Yeah right. You winning was a fluke. But I’m gonna getcha. When you least expect it. Don’t mess with team Y/N.”
He rolled his eyes before he addressed the audience. “Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe. And we’ll see you all next week.”
After he said his closing remarks he opened his mouth and huffed his hot breath in your face one last time, and the video cut out with you jerking violently away from him.
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- D
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It’s in the air and it’s all around, can you feel me now? | Phan One Shot
Summary: After filming Cards Against Humanity PHAN EDITION, Dan gets an idea into his head involving his DDR mat. He is so focused on that that he nearly misses how Phil starts planning another thing related to the video. If anyone asks, lap dancing is the perfect way to celebrate a high score on DDR.
Tags: Established relationship, 2021!phan, DDR, sharing clothes, lap dancing, slight horniness but no smut, domestic fluff, Dan admiring Phil’s body, they are in love
Word count: 5.6k
Read on AO3 or below
Once Dan got an idea into his head, it was kind of hard to get it out before he did something about it.
It caused him immense trouble at times, making him freeze and focus on this tiny thing that needed to be resolved before he could move on. Other times, it made him go down a path he would never have thought of before. It had its pros and cons.
Dan was still hung up on how to return to YouTube, other than the official project coming down the line. He knew he could pop up already now if he had something to say but he was too stuck in his head and questioning his existence a little too much to make videos like he used to do. It was daunting to return to something like that.
However, sometimes the ideas he would get was stupid and simple ones. This one would certainly certify.
It had only been yesterday that him and Phil had sat down to film a video together. Everything about it had been so strikingly familiar, even if Dan was pushed into Phil’s little filming nook and they were surrounded by boxes. It was easy to slot into place with making videos with Phil.
It always had been.
The Cards Against Humanity game had been a bit of a dangerous idea but it was also entirely too tempting not to do it. Dan had been curious ever since Phil had found it. They had held onto it for years and years, like they tended to do with gifts from their viewers, and now it had come in handy.
The timing had felt right. It wouldn’t have back when they got it during TATINOF. Hell, it wouldn’t even have felt right last year. But they were crashing into 2021 with a different mindset. The hiatus of Dan and Phil, the break that Dan in particularly had needed was coming to an end.
Now he was genuinely looking forward to making content with Phil rather than spin out into unhealthy thought spirals.
The game itself had been fun. The cards were littered with nostalgia and inside jokes between himself, Phil and their viewers. There were some horrendous cards too but it was clear to see that it had been made with love.
Dan and Phil had really meant it when they said that they liked that they had inspired so much creativity, even if they had also seen things that they shouldn’t have in the early days. It felt better now. The boundaries were respected in a different way and everyone seemed to have grown up a little.
Dan still couldn’t stop thinking about the huge wave of support that had come after they had come out. It had been something truly special to be able to stand in the heart of that, and finally feel like he might actually belong in his own community.
Dan wasn’t sure exactly what would make it into the final edit of the video but he did know that they had both talked about a lot of stuff without any filter. It had been fun. He almost felt bad for the excessive bleeping Phil would have to do to keep the swear words out of AmazingPhil.
Dan had been ready to be haunted by old memories during his sleep that night but instead he had dreamed about DDR of all things. Phil sharing the story of how Dan had been watching videos of competitive players back in the day had stirred something in him. He was itching to get back on the mat.
The mat that they of course hadn’t thrown out but was buried somewhere in all of the moving mess boxes. It should have been enough to deter Dan but it wasn’t. He was a man on a mission.
Phil had poked his head into the old gaming room and found Dan trying to sort through boxes.
“Did we forget to do keep or yeet on some of these?” Phil had asked.
“Nah, I’m just looking for something,” Dan had told him. If Dan had received such an answer from Phil, he would probably have pushed. He couldn’t handle not knowing. Phil was a curious human, sometimes too curious and Dan could definitely feel Phil’s eyes on him. However, Phil just took a sip of his morning coffee and left Dan to go through dozens of boxes like a madman.
It paid off though. He managed to find it and with a lot of trouble, he managed to set it up to the television in the living room. By then Phil had caught on to what was going on. He had yet to comment on it.
“Are you going to ask?” Dan asked eventually, once he had gotten the menu open and Phil came into the lounge to sit down on the sofa.
Phil raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously. “Nope.”
“You are no fun,” Dan said over his shoulder and scrolled through the song selection. There was one specific song he wanted. It had to be that one because it had a special place in his heart. He had managed to get a perfect score, a literal perfect on every single step, a dozen or so times. He had been so proud of this accomplishment that he had actually arranged to film it.
The video still lived on danisnotinteresting and he would probably never dare to take it down. It had over a million views, which had made him laugh so much when he’d first seen it.
“I am not going to ask because I already know,” Phil said, clicking away at his keyboard and not even looking up at Dan. “You’re like a dog with a bone when you get an idea into your head.”
“I’d rather bone you,” Dan shot back.
Young Dan would have been flustered at making such a remark but Dan was nearly thirty by now and he frankly delighted in sharing innuendos with Phil. Even on camera, it had happened way too often though Dan persisted that Phil was worse than him.
“Show me what you’ve got then, Danny boy,” Phil said, eyes lifting over the screen to hold Dan’s gaze just for a second. It looked like a challenge.
Dan had never really learned how to back down from those.
Muscle memory was a funny thing. Dan had managed to both get into shape and then fall into lethargy on and off again over this past year. DDR was hard to keep up with but he had been very good at it once.
It turned out that a lot of that hadn’t gone away. Once the music kicked in, it was like Dan was transported back to his past self more than a decade earlier when he would feverishly practice this particular song over and over until he could do it without any mistakes.
It had pleased his inner perfectionist greatly.
He didn’t get it perfect on the first try, or the third or seventh. But he was doing well. He kept getting Goods, Greats and Perfects and he was doing better and better each time. His first round with only Perfects and Greats, he did a legitimate victory lap around the lounge much to Phil’s amusement.
Phil started giggling uncontrollably and of course that meant that Dan just had to throw himself down almost on top of Phil.
“Hey! Watch the laptop,” Phil said, still giggling, and managed to lift the laptop out of the danger zone.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” Dan said.
“I like my one, you know that,” Phil said.
And Dan did. Phil always ended up using his old laptops until they were literally falling apart, on the inside or the outside. Dan held onto his for a long time too, but when they started to impair his work, he didn’t want to compromise. But Phil never liked parting with his laptops. Dan knew the box of old laptops had also been packed somewhere and that it was probably going to sneak into the forever home, unless Dan could send that box to storage.
“I will do it, I will restore my former glory,” Dan insisted, panting as he laid out in Phil’s lap. Phil was warm and nice. Dan could take a little break.
“You’re sweaty,” Phil said but he still touched Dan’s hair and kept toying with the little front curl.
“You love it.”
“No, I love you,” Phil corrected.
“Same difference,” Dan muttered and let his eyes fall shut for just a moment. Phil’s hand in his hair was nice, Phil’s warm lap under his head was nice too. He could take a nap right here.
He had things to do today. Edits to his book. Emails that awaited answers. He shouldn’t be willing to commit more hours than the ones he had already spent setting up DRR and playing already. But he didn’t want to let it go. He wanted to prove this to himself.
He could still do it.
If Dan looked a little too closely to this desire, he wasn’t sure what he was going to find, so he pushed the notion away.
In the end, Dan didn’t get it done that day. Work did eventually distract him and he felt a little too wiped out. He had managed to do two rounds with only a handful of Greats though and victory was so close that he could taste it.
He hadn’t lost his grip.
The next morning, Dan was sad to see himself stuck in entirely too many zoom meetings to be sane. Mid-afternoon when he could finally get away from the computer, he had come into the lounge to play more.
He was rewarded for his determination at 7:19 PM.
His chest was heaving with exhaustion and his heart hammering in his chest. He was pretty sure he had only seen Perfects flash across the screen but it was hard to focus on that when he was focused on actually moving his feet. He waited for the final tally with his heart racing entirely too much for something so silly.
The scream that came from Dan’s throat was instinctive and primal and he also fell down on his knees.
“I did it!” he shouted, too loudly perhaps but they had already pissed off these neighbours so much while they had been living here that it didn’t matter. Soon they would be out of the box hell.
“You did it?” Phil asked, coming running in from the kitchen where he had been going through yet another box of stuff. He was in the process of specifically marking up what items they would be putting into the give-away they were doing.
They had so much crap that they didn’t want to bring along with them but they were entirely too sentimental to throw it away. The charity shops had been the initial plan so other people could get joy out of the items they didn’t need anymore.
But thanks to the current circumstances that wasn’t a possibility so they had come up with another solution. Gifting the things directly to their viewers. It made sense with the Stereo partnership, even if the give-away was entirely their own thing. It had been Phil’s idea and Dan had wholeheartedly supported it.
Dan didn’t have the heart to give away the DDR mat though, especially not now when he was staring at a Perfect score once more. It had been years since he had done that and now, he’d managed to practice to get it right in the span of a day and a half. His muscles were a little sore and he felt beat as hell but nothing could wipe the smile off his face.
“Wow, you actually did it,” Phil said, an impressed hint in his voice as he came up behind Dan.
Dan felt the warm hands on his shoulders and he leaned into the touch. A moment later, Phil’s whole chest was behind Dan’s back and he could lean back comfortably.
“I did it.”
“Your heart is beating so fast,” Phil commented, as he snuck a hand around Dan and placed it right over his heart.
Dan was sure it started beating a little faster. There was something intimate about the moment, and Phil feeling out Dan’s heart. Listening to its erratic beat. It wasn’t anything new. Phil would do it at times or ask Dan to fell his own. There was something grounding and life affirming about confirming that there was a steady heartbeat next to you.
Strong hearts.
Hearts in love.
“Hearts do that when they have something they want,” Dan said and latched his hands onto Phil’s arm and let out a contented breath.
This didn’t quite feel real. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to do it. It was just an idea that he had plucked out of the air and decided to run with it. Now he was happy he had done it though. The sense of accomplishment was nice, even if the goal had been something silly.
Dan had been learning about how it was important to celebrate the good moments, no matter how big or how small.
“Should we get Dominos to celebrate?” Phil asked, hooking his chin over Dan’s shoulder.
It seemed like Phil had the same ideas.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Dan agreed. Greasy pizza was a nice reward. “All the dips.”
“You’re opening the door.”
“Don’t I always?” Dan asked, and he could hear how fond he sounded.
He liked this, this little familiar dance back and forth. They knew each other’s preferences and insecurities and they helped each other and looked out for each other.
But for now, none of them moved. They stayed in the embrace for a moment longer, just breathing together. Dan’s heart was starting to calm down just a little.
It was a funny thing. Phil was probably the one who was the best at making Dan’s heart race, even after all these years, but he had also become someone who could calm it instantly.
A thrilling touch or a calming touch. Both felt so good. Dan wouldn’t be without one or the other. The early butterflies in the stomach out of nerves had long ago subsided but the rush of joy and adoration still happened on nearly daily basis.
It was a different variant. A steady one. One free of nerves. Dan joked around a lot about having commitment issues, as lately as the new video that would soon drop. He did have commitment issues with a lot of things, but Phil had always been easy. The only exception, if he was allowing himself to be sappy.
Evidently, a DDR victory brought that out in him.
That night the gorged themselves on pizza and played more DDR together. It wasn’t anything like their three-legged fiasco. They would take turn and try the most absurd songs that they could find and it was such a good time even if the scores turned out terrible.
This was why they could never throw anything out. It might just come in handy. God, they really were hoarders at times, huh?
Dan was in a good mood all of the following day too, running high on the endorphins of his win still. He had been in a good mood and distracted by some of the emails he had ignored and pushed ahead of him. Still, he had noticed that Phil had acted a little strange.
He would almost be tempted to say secretive, which was very hard to be considering that they were essentially locked in the flat together.
Still, Dan didn’t control him about the sneaking around and sending Dan odd glances. Something would come of this. Dan was sure of it, and he would just have to wait. If Phil wanted to surprise him in any capacity, then he would happily allow it.
His curiosity might be eating at him a little and making it hard to bite his tongue but Phil would put on the biggest pout if his plans got spoiled by Dan being too nosy.
Dan was both relieved and very confused when Phil grabbed him in the late afternoon and insisted that he should come into the bedroom.
Not that Dan would ever really object to being dragged into the bedroom but he was a little confused.
When he saw the kitchen chair in the bedroom, the confusion grew.
“Sit, please,” Phil said and pointed at the chair.
Dan did as he was told and that was when it clicked. It was almost ridiculous that it had taken him up until now to figure out what Phil had been up to. It was after all related to Dan’s own impulsive idea that had been dreamed up after the new video.
He wanted to laugh or smack his palm against his chest but mostly he was just looking up at Phil with a look of adoration.
“Figured it out?” Phil asked, and he sounded almost giddy.
A little nervous too, which made Dan just want to reach out and reassure him.
“Hey, you know you don’t have to do this, right?” Dan said and tried to reach out a hand to Phil.
Phil slapped it down and then put his hand over Dan’s eyes.
“Dan, I know,” Phil said, and his voice sounded steadier now. “Keep your eyes closed.”
The hand moved away but Dan obediently kept his eyes closed. He suddenly felt a little flustered.
A lap dance.
Phil was genuinely going to give, or attempt to give, him a lap dance. Dan wasn’t sure he would have ever seen this coming even if they had played around with a lot of things in the bedroom. None of them were really that talented dancers and hadn’t tried to do anything dance related very often, golden suited TATINOF dance aside.
“You also know that I didn’t dig the old DDR mat out for this to happen, right?” Dan asked, suddenly feeling a pinch of nerves himself being left in the dark.
He could still hear Phil. It sounded like he was changing his clothes, which could not bode well for Dan. Damnit, Phil was going to be adorable and Dan was going to be both smitten and turned on. He could see it already.
“You’re not calculated enough for that,” Phil said, tone fond. “This is an idea of my own. Ever since we talked about it, I kind of wanted to try it out. Just for fun. And I want to prove to you that I won’t be as bad as you think I will.”
“And you’ll do it to Toxic?”
“Why not? It’s a sexy dance,” Phil said. “Intoxicating, even.”
Dan hummed and he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. He wanted to open his eyes. The first notes of Toxic sounded on the surround sound speaker Dan had insisted that they set up in the bedroom. It was booming and intimidating.
It stopped after the first couple of seconds and that made the silence all the louder.
“Sorry, just checking that it works. Are you ready?”
“Can I open my eyes?” Dan asked.
“No, not yet. Answer my question and I’ll tell you when to open your eyes,” Phil said and he sounded stern.
“I am as ready as I’ll ever be,” Dan said and let out a nervous chuckle. He grabbed onto the fabric of his sweats to keep his hands from moving awkwardly.
“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” Phil said.
As Dan did, the music started and Dan spent every moment of the 13 second intro just staring at Phil. He was almost sure that he was blocking out the music to just look better at Phil.
Phil had dimmed the lights a little in the room but he was still perfectly visible. He wasn’t dressed up in a sexy outfit as Dan might have wondered with the whole closing eyes scenario. No, this was something so much better because it made something in Dan’s chest turn into fond mush.
Phil had lost the sweatpants he had been wearing when he had lead Dan in. He still had on his mismatched socks, from his own collection of course, even though Dan could see miles and miles of pale meaty legs. He assumed that Phil still had boxers on but he could properly tell because Phil had also adorned Dan’s NASA women’s nightie that fell to Phil’s upper thigh.
It was too much to take in all at once, even if Dan had seen Phil naked more times than he would ever be able to count. This felt different because of the energy in the room. Phil’s almost coy pose, legs slightly crossed and his excited and nervous expression, lower lip caught between his teeth. The neck of the shirt was just wide enough to give a hint of Phil’s collarbones and the hem of the shirt fell so lovely against Phil’s glorious thighs. Dan blinked rabidly, trying to take all of this in at once, even if it felt like his brain was a little overwhelmed.
Phil hadn’t brought some skimpy outfit and been ready to parade himself in front of Dan, even if that would also have been perfectly fine and undoubtedly Phil would look amazing in whatever he wanted to wear. But this, the familiarity of it. Phil keeping on his socks, probably a little bit of comfort. Putting on a shirt that Dan loved and had secretly been dying to see Phil in for a while. The challenging look in Phil’s eyes.
As Britney’s voice started on the track, Dan’s prolonged moment of observation was over and Phil started to move.
He came closer with slow strides. They didn’t look elegant per say but they were mesmerising all the same. Dan watched how the muscles and tissue in Phil’s legs shifted as he moved. A work of art really.
Dan made a mental note to spent some time with those thighs later tonight. Phil always did look good with bruises against his pale skin. Phil’s hips rocked as he neared too, almost to the beat which was a feat for Phil. When Phil’s hands came to grab the back of the chair, bringing their faces close together, Dan was pretty sure that he stopped breathing.
Dan hadn’t even ever seen a stripper as far as he could remember. Not in real life and certainly no one had ever stripped for him. He was pretty sure that even if he had been around a hundred strip joints and gotten amazing lap dances from professionals good at their crafts, none of it would compare to the look in Phil’s eyes right now.
Dan felt entirely pinned down, even if Phil wasn’t really touching him.
As Phil leaned forward the loose shirt fell forward too, allowing Dan a glimpse down Phil’s chest, just a little peak before Phil was pulling back and turning around. Dan’s hands itched to reach out and to touch but he wasn’t sure if Phil would rather be left to do this alone or have Dan participate.
Dan would have asked if he wasn’t so busy keeping himself from internally combusting. It wasn’t even that it was hot. It was, because Phil was the hottest man Dan had ever seen and he would stand by that statement. It was more that Dan felt so pulled in.
His and Phil’s relationship had never been toxic and it had never been dangerous, stranger danger and internet friends meeting up aside. And yet, Dan felt intoxicated in a good way right now. He was ready to hang off of Phil’s lips.
Phil turned his backside towards Dan and his hands went up over his head. His movements were a little unsure but his hips were working, almost managing a rolling movement and he looked good. Phil had always had a wonderful ass and hips that Dan had been very admiring off.
They looked great in the shirt.
Phil turned to look over his shoulder and smiled at Dan. It was a genuine one, a tad embarrassed.
“Come here,” Dan couldn’t stop himself from saying. His hands found Phil’s hips and turned him around.
The shirt had been nearly worn thin in some places with how much Dan had worn it. Phil’s skin felt warm and flushed through the contact. It was entirely too easy to pull Phil into his lap.
“You know I was saving this for the finale,” Phil said. There was definitely a flush on his cheeks. He looked a little like he wanted to hide behind his hands but instead said hands found Dan’s shoulders and held on tight.
“Hey, can I tell you that you look amazing?” Dan asked, hands moving down until they could go under the hem of the long shirt and move up to find Phil’s skin. Dan rested his hands right on Phil’s hips and partly over the elastic of his boxers.
Phil’s weight was warm and comfortable in Dan’s lap. He wouldn’t mind keeping him here, even if they were not very into the song yet.
Phil seemed to have other plans. “I know I look good, and I am going to do this and you are going to love it!” Phil said and stood up.
Dan’s hands tried to hold on for as long as they could before Phil moved out of range. He felt his fingertips trace down from Phil’s hips to his legs before he let go.
“Yes, sir,” Dan said teasingly and it had the desired effect. Phil tried to glare at him but he couldn’t stop smiling for long enough to look angry.
Phil meant it when he said he was going to go all in. Dan got his butt pretty much up in his face, Phil bending over and trying to twerk Dan was pretty sure. It wasn’t much of a twerk but Phil’s butt did wiggle and Dan couldn’t help himself from leaning forward a little and try to bite it. He only managed to scrape his teeth a little mostly catching the fabric of the shirt.
But Phil did turn around with a delighted look in his eyes even as he told Dan off.
“No bites! I didn’t think I’d need to go over the rules with you,” Phil said and clicked his tongue. “Nice boys don’t bite.”
Phil had walked right into that one and he knew it too.
“Then I’m clearly not a nice boy,” Dan said, and reached his hands out again. Phil had come close enough that Dan could get his hands back on his hips. “Show me what you’ve got, Lester. I’ve heard rumours of some legendary hip trusts. Show me.”
Dan liked this. The comfortable way they could joke around and mean it seriously at the same time. This was mostly making Dan laugh and revel in his love but he was a little turned on too, partly because Phil was gorgeous but mostly because they could do something like this together and not make a big deal of it.
They were having fun and still kidding around.
It was one of the things that Dan always had liked about the two of them being together, in and out of the bedroom. They always had fun and they could talk to each other.
Now, Phil’s hip thrusts were something else. Dan kept his hands on Phil’s hips and he wasn’t shy to admit that he had to take a moment to just admire it, both the feel and the visual. Phil’s facial expressions could use some work, too focused to be effortlessly sexy but that was all the more endearing.
Suddenly, Phil was in Dan’s lap again. Properly grinding this time and Dan felt like his brain stopped working a little. Phil was so close, warm and hot at the same time. And then he was very much up in Dan’s face all of a sudden.
“With a taste of your lips,” Phil sang softly along, coming in to lock their lips together for one entirely too short second before pulling back, “I’m on a ride,” Phil continued and he had the audacity to grid particularly suggestive as he finished the lyrics.
Dan was in disbelief, almost sputtering with delight and he knew he looked like a lovestruck fool under Phil but he couldn’t help it. After all, he looked exactly like what he was.
“I hate you,” Dan said, voice dripping with affection.
Phil was a cheeky little shit and clearly gaining confidence because he grinded down on Dan with purpose again.
“Clearly not all of you,” he said, managing to keep his tone without breaking out into giggles, even if it looked like it was a close call.
Phil got off Dan’s lap with somewhat flair, or Dan’s head was just spinning too much. Phil started to walking around the chair, something that wasn’t entirely easy in the somewhat crammed room. He was kicking up his socked feet like they were fancy heels and Dan was so fucking gone for this dork.
Next came more lip sync right in front of Dan, nearly close enough to touch but just out of reach. Phil pulled at the neck of the shirt and played with the hem of it too, as if it were a dress. He looked breath-taking and he was getting into it. He was growing in confidence, running a finger down his lips and giving Dan a genuinely sultry look.
This had started as a joke but Dan was getting entirely too into it.
And then all too soon the song was coming to an end. Dan almost wanted to ask Phil to play it once more but he didn’t get a chance because as soon as the song finished, he got another lapful of Phil.
Only this time Phil was all up in him, hands in his hair, locking their lips together. Dan’s hands moved on their own accord, taking a slow moment to trail all the way up Phil’s legs, squeezing as he went while he met Phil’s kisses.
When Phil pulled back from the kiss, Dan was already leaning forward to chase after him. Dan’s hands had found Phil’s hips again and he wasn’t going to let him get very far away this time. He felt a little dazed and increasingly horny, but the look in Phil’s eyes, the pure mischief, made all emotions momentarily be pushed aside from a flood of love.
“So… will you concede that I’m good at lap dancing?” Phil asked.
Dan was pretty sure that Phil hadn’t been that great from a technical stand point. But none of that really mattered anyway. It wasn’t like Phil was going to go out and get his lap dance skills graded.
Dan kind of hoped they could keep that experience all to themselves.
“I concede,” Dan said, leaning forward to latch onto Phil’s lips again but he only got a peck before a hand on his chest had him pulling back.
“A good enough prize for re-establishing your old DDR score?” Phil asked, one eye brow arching upwards.
“Yes, yes, the best,” Dan said eagerly, “but also just… nice. You looked good. Like you found your stride. You know how much I love you. I love all of you, mind and body and soul.”
“Dan!” Phil protested.
“What? I am just speaking the truth!”
“Stop being so sincere and sweet! You are supposed to be horny,” Phil argued and he was pouting now. It was not his angry pout but it was his slightly inconvenienced one.
Dan couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up. Phil was an idiot. But that was okay because he was Dan’s idiot and Dan was an idiot too.
He wasn’t sure he could manage it. He wasn’t the strongest of boys and Phil was quite a tall and somewhat heavy lad but Dan attempted it all the same. He grabbed onto Phil’s butt and then stood up.
He nearly lost his balance when Phil flailed a little at being lifted all of a sudden and latched onto Dan like an octopus. Dan let the laughter flood their bedroom with the dimmed lights and the silence left by Toxic.
Dan was happy he didn’t have to carry Phil very far. He had intended to drop him elegantly and sexily but instead he stumbled right next to the bed and sent both of them just tumbling down on top of each other.
It was so dumb, they knocked elbows together and it did kind of hurt but not bad enough to stop both of them from bursting out into laughter. Dan rolled onto his back and just laughed, so deep and full while Phil did the same next to him.
He wasn’t sure anyone else would call this a perfect evening but Dan would. Phil too it seemed when Phil rolled over on top of Dan and kissed him. They couldn’t even focus on kissing properly because they couldn’t keep their laughter at bay for long enough.
Dan and Phil fell into their familiar rhythm and Dan wouldn’t have it any other way. Now he got a chance to show Phil just how much he had enjoyed the lap dance.
It had been so intoxicating.
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timetraveller29 · 3 years
Text
The Nearest Intersection
A Doctor Who fanfiction for #WhouffleWeek2020
Day 3 - Misunderstanding / Bad timing
Featuring the Tenth Doctor and Clara
“Travelling with you made me feel really special... Thank you for making me feel special.”
“Thank you for exactly the same.”
These words bounced around Clara’s mind as she studied the black device in her hands. She turned it over and over, examining it, remembering.
Her living room was empty and still. She sat on the right side of the sofa, leaning on a pillow. It had a wet spot right under her cheek.
She sighed deeply.
Her eyelids sparkled with teardrops, and she didn’t care enough to dry them yet. They kept fluttering upwards so she could see the blank space ahead of her, an empty cuboidal area. She had rearranged the furniture a week ago, just to feel a sense of control, but somehow had ended up with a wide space in that very same spot...
It was where the Doctor would park his TARDIS when he came around.
Why did she leave it empty? Out of hope?
Well, she had left the other side of the sofa empty too, hadn’t she? That hardly meant she had hope of Danny ever returning…
But one person had returned unexpectedly: Missy.
Well, not in person. She was dead, after all. However, she had left Clara something, a kind of gift. She hated to think that somewhere Missy had some cronies still carrying out her work, but the fact of the matter was, the package didn’t have any explosives, she had checked.
All it had was this vortex manipulator. And there was a message.
Set to meet the Doctor at the nearest intersection of space-time, it said. In case he tries to leave you behind. No need to thank me. – Missy x
It was suspicious to say the least. But Clara couldn’t help but see it as a sign.
Sure, Missy was a murderous evil witch of a person, but she was the one who had united her with the Doctor in the first place. Whatever her motivations were, she wouldn’t have met him without her help. And, after more than a month of not seeing the Doctor, she had to admit she had underestimated just how much it would hurt.
She stared at the vortex manipulator again, dark and otherworldly and dangerous.
But wasn’t travelling to worlds of the past and the future essentially just that? It's what she needed the most… A nice dark sky, an otherworldly foe, a dangerous mission… if only to put herself in reckless risk of death! She wouldn't mind!
She needed to stop thinking about this.
Putting the vortex manipulator in a drawer, out of sight, she began to wipe her eyes on her sleeves. She was being unreasonably weak. Where was the Clara that used to be so strong, confident, and put together? She coughed out a laugh. This was unhealthy. It was like she could almost hear the TARDIS materialise right now…
It became louder and louder, then shuddered to silence.
She looked up.
No. She had to be dreaming.
The door opened and a man walked out. Long, brown coat. Stuck-up hair. Rather young.
She stared. Maybe, if she didn't react, the vision would fade away.
"Oh!" The Doctor put a hand to his crest of hair, and looked around, tongue behind his teeth. "Sorry! I must have steered it wrong… Um, terribly sorry, but where am I?"
She still said nothing.
He squinted. "Do I know you? I could swear I've seen that face…" He pulled out his silver sonic and began bleeping it in short bursts, pointing it in her vague direction. "Doesn't seem to be..." He left the sentence unfinished and waved his hand in front of her face, grinning an adorable grin.
"Hello!" he said, light and cheery.
Clara closed her eyes. Nope. Not real.
She opened them.
"You're really here?" she said tentatively, trying hard to hold herself back.
"Yup! In the flesh! So you know me, then? From the future, I'm guessing?"
"I…" she bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah. I'm Clara Oswald."
"Clara Oswald! Lovely to meet you, Clara! Sorry to intrude and everything… the TARDIS detected an alien presence in this area but, well, that's pretty standard if you're one of my companions. I suspect your Doctor's already on the case."
She frowned. "Could that be an alien device you picked up or an actual alien?"
"Either of them could trip up the TARDIS, to be honest. I like to be surprised." He lighted his sonic again and scanned the room. "Whatever it is… it's probably a misunderstanding. I hate to get in the way, especially my own. I'll get out of your skin…" And he was just about to turn back when he spotted something. The wet cushion. The red nose.
He softened. His next words were so delicately-worded Clara's resolve melted. "Unless… you want some help? I'm the Doctor too, you know. And I can be your Doctor… if you want me to be."
She sniffed once, facing her lap. Then she looked at the Doctor, steady. Here was a Time Lord, at her service, boyish, enthusiastic, and helpful… her heart soared. Of course she wanted him there!
He must have recognised the sentiment because he crouched on the carpet at her feet and looked into her eyes.
"Clara," he breathed. "I know I can be… an idiot. I always have been. And if it's me that made you cry then I want to tell you that that's never my intention. I… I do that a lot, however. I know I've ruined lives and I've made people suffer." The self loathing was so evident Clara couldn't bear it. A final tear fell off her cheek. "But Clara, you should know that I care about you, wherever I am right now. I know myself. I try to protect my companions. I tell myself I'm good at it… but I'm not.
"And I'm only telling you this because you deserve to know: I regret it. Every one of my friends I've had to leave behind or who had to leave me behind, I regret it, I always do. And I hope you can forgive the Doctor, whatever he's done. Whatever I've done. Because you're so much better than I am, than the Doctor will ever be."
Clara's eyes wandered over his face, trying to see where he was coming from, where his pain was… she couldn't figure it out. He was a mystery to her.
"It's just that, for a Time Lord, you'd think he wouldn't have such bad timing," she remarked. "Always zipping in when I'm busy and zipping off when I need him. You're the only one who's got it right!"
"Well," he said, tilting his head. "At least that's some consolation. Score one for me, zero for him, then?" He smirked at her.
She laughed.
Oh, he was the Doctor!
Clara tilted her head as well, finding herself to be cheerful for the first time in ages. She exhaled, overcome with a fondness that she couldn't quite express, that called her to do something, make something… ooh!
"I wonder if you'd like a soufflé, Doctor?"
"A soufflé? Is that what I eat these days?"
She chuckled, remembering the fish fingers and custard he would one day have.
"Let's just say they've left such an impression on you, you sometimes call me the Soufflé Girl. So, if you're up for it, I could bake you one right away. Or you could keep wondering why that is...."
"Oh, a tantalising offer! Well, then, so long as you're not trying to poison me and take some kind preemptive revenge, Allons-y!"
"Does that happen often?" she teased, standing up to lead the way to the kitchen.
"Oh, you wouldn't believe," he said, his voice fading as he followed her out of the room, launching right into one of his stories. Clara's laughter could be heard, bouncing off the walls.
The TARDIS stood right in the same spot where it had always stood and yet never stood before.
And, in front of it, a certain drawer's outline glowed and dimmed, a bright blue.
It was a clever backup functionality, really, to send a warning beacon straight towards the TARDIS. It had pinpointed the time machine through the time vortex, and found it right there…
… At the nearest intersection.
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capaldifiction · 4 years
Text
Masked Singer - Lewis Capaldi x Reader
Didn’t expect to get this out so quickly after my last post, but it just sort of happened :P lol I haven’t watched a whole lot of this show, so hopefully I did it justice! Had a lot of fun with this one 😊
Paring: Lewis Capaldi x Celebrity Reader
Word Count: 1,492
Description: Based on the request: “Lewis x reader where he goes on the masked singer and the reader is one of the judges and she doesn’t guess him immediately and the judges keep teasing her about it?” Hope you like it 💙
Requested by: @mytinybaguette​
Warnings: None, swearing is bleeped for tv show purposes :P
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“And the winner of this season’s Golden Mask is…” Nick Cannon begins as the lights go down and the dramatic music begins. “The Duck! Congratulations, you’ve won! Make your way to the throne!”
The Duck’s hands fly to his face in shock, before accepting the trophy and holding it high as he makes his way back to his throne as the judges cheer.
After their runner-up is unveiled as Robert Downey Jr, he sings his final song and exits the stage to thunderous applause and a thumbs up to the Duck back on his throne.
Robin nods approvingly as the Duck comes back to the stage, and faces them, “Knew you’d be in the finals, such a strong voice.”
“Jenny, who do you think our champion is?”
“I’ve changed my mind every week on you,” Jenny starts and points at him. “And I’m still not sure I’m right. But from your clues… you mentioned Hollywood at one point. You had a background of New York behind you. You brought up having an older brother and starting to work toward your career at a young age. Everyone thinks you’re a singer, but I think you’re an actor and that’s why you brought up Hollywood! You’re Zac Efron! An actor that can sing, has an older brother, started out young on Disney, and you had that movie with Michael B. Jordan based in New York, I’ve got you Zac!”
The Duck shrugs as Ken jumps in, “Great guess Jenny, but you’re wrong. Because I know exactly who this is! I saw that flag in the background of one of your videos, and plenty of singers come to Hollywood. You’re from the U.K., welcome to The Masked Singer Ed Sheeran!”
“One final guess Y/N,” Nick Cannon asks, both he and the Duck turning to look at her. “Who do you think the Duck is?”
“I think you’re right about the U.K. Ken,” Y/N nods approvingly. “But that’s not Ed. I feel like I really know this voice, and it’s been irking me for months. And I think I finally know why. Going off of him saying he has an older brother, the Union Jack in the background, talking about how his career took off in the span of one year, and his voice, this is singer and X-Factor winner James Arthur,” she states confidently as the Duck slicks back his hair. “I’ve worked with him, and that’s his voice, I’m confident.”
“I agree with Y/N,” Robin states. “Duck you’ve got an incredible voice and range, and killed it out here every week. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re a professional singer. And I think that singer is James Arthur.”
“Alright Nicole, who do you think our champion is?”
“I still have no clue Nick,” she says, slamming her palms down on the desk. “I thought he was a professional singer from his singing, but he’s brought up Hollywood and that made me think actor, then he’s just continuously hilarious every week in his packages so I thought he was a comedian. I think I’m just going to agree… with Ken. It’s Ed Sheeran.”
“You’re agreeing with me?” Ken asks, a fake shocked look on his face.
“I know, I’m uncomfortable too,” she says with the roll of her eyes as the audience laughs.
“Alright now that our panel has locked in their final guesses, it’s time to unveil our winner!” Nick announces as he puts his microphone on the table next to him and grips the edge of the Duck’s mask trying to find the best place to pull it up.
All the judges get to their feet, trying to get the first glimpse of him as the audience chants, “Take it off,” wildly.
As the mask comes off, the audience goes silent before Y/N’s voice breaks it, “Oh *bleep*,” slamming a hand over her mouth quickly.
“It’s Grammy Nominated Singer Song-writer Lewis Capaldi!” Nick shouts as Lewis holds up his mask and Y/N slowly lowers herself down to hide behind the desk.

“Wait, Y/N isn’t he your boyfriend?” Robin asks as the crowd laughs.
Coming back up from behind the desk, she hangs her head and nods, her cheeks bright red.
“James Arthur, Y/N?” Lewis teases, “James Arthur, really?”
“You didn’t recognize your own boyfriend’s voice? Don’t you hear him like every day?” Nicole asks surprised.
“And didn’t you noticed your boyfriend working all the exact hours as you?” Ken laughs as her cheeks grow even brighter red.
“Well I wasn’t there! I was here!” she defends with a huff. “And he locks himself in the studio writing all the time, I didn’t check to see what he was singing up there, it’s soundproof!”
“I also sang her to sleep last night,” Lewis shrugs setting down his mask. “The last thing you heard before you slipped into your sweet sweet dreams was me singing to you, then you come and call me James Arthur today with complete confidence. I feel like I should be concerned.”
“To be fair I assumed my boyfriend was home working on his album like he said he was, it never even occurred to me I’m leaving to head to the studio and you’re sneaking out right after me!” she shouts back.
“You didn’t even get him after the hints though,” Robin comments with a chuckle. “That should have given it away for you.”
“But a lot of people could have got into singing because of their brother, I don’t know everyone’s back story! And the duck thing... ok the duck thing I probably should have. He said he wanted to be an eggplant but couldn’t so he went with something that rhymes with a word he say all the time. And the sunglasses. And the clip in the bathroom. And the plunger. Yeah that’s my bad,” she admits with a sigh.
“What about the New York background and Hollywood reference though?” Nicole asks looking to Lewis.
“He had New York wallpaper for most of his life and has a song called Hollywood,” Y/N answers sheepishly.
“And my own girlfriend of three years didn’t get any of this,” Lewis laughs and shakes his head in mock disappointment. “I am wounded darlin’.”
“Even if your own girlfriend couldn’t recognize your voice, you came out here and put on a great performance every week, congrats to our champ!” Ken celebrates, thumbs up to Lewis who smiles in response and pushes his hair out of his face.
“Slayed it every week!” Jenny agrees.
“So why did you come do this crazy show?” Nick asks as he puts his arm behind Lewis.
“Well,” he starts as he scratches his chin. “It seemed like it would be fun, from when I’ve been here just watching because of Y/N. And I love my fans and how I interact with them online, but sometimes it starts to feel like my music takes a backseat to all the stupid shi- stuff I say,” he corrects himself quickly. “I’ve also had a lot more success in the U.K. than over here, and I just sorta wanted to see how I would do without any of that to detract from how people like or don’t like my voice.”
“Now how about we get one last song from our champion?”
“Gladly,” Lewis grins as the music for “Set Fire To The Rain,” begins. Near the end of the song, the screen starts to fade as Lewis holds an arm out toward Y/N, who joins him on stage as he pulls her into an embrace for his last note.
Fading to black, the image of a clapperboard suddenly appears on screen then gives way to unmasked Lewis and Y/N standing in front of a white wall.
“Lewis did you think you’d win?” a voice behind the camera calls out.
“Of course I did! No I really didn’t expect that, it’s fantastic but didn’t expect this. I did expect my girlfriend to recognize my *bleep* voice though,” he says with the raise of an eyebrow, glancing over to Y/N.
“My mind completely cancelled you out of the list of people it could be, because I thought there was no way you were able to hide all this from me!” she insists.
“I’m just sad, here I was thinking you liked my music,” he responds with a pout.
“Hey I probably listen to your album more than you!”
“And what’s the name of it?”
“Divinely Uninspired To A Hellish Extent, sold near you wherever records are sold. It’s been out a year, if you haven’t listened to it yet where the *bleep* have you been,” Y/N laughs as they both flash peace signs at camera.
“Will you ever let me live this down?” she asks.
Looking toward the camera with a serious expression that quickly breaks into a smile, Lewis responds, “Absolutely not.”
-----
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martellthemandalor · 4 years
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Assistance - Chapter 2
Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader (No Y/N, reader is nicknamed)
Warnings: Swearing, violence, mentions of drinking
Rating: 15
Word Count: 3.4K
Summary: You and the Mandalorian gear up for your journey and Mando gets into a tangle with some guild members.
A/N: Told you the chapters would get longer! As always I’m open for feedback, enjoy :)
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You had stayed in the cantina a while longer, silently tinkering with the tech in your cuff, wiring in the tracking fob and transferring all the data across to your internal tracker. Technically speaking this was illegal within the guild, the storage of any information regarding quarry’s was strictly forbidden ever since the Dinatchi incident, but sweet maker did it make your life easier. It meant that instead of playing hot and cold across (and a couple of times beneath) the surface of a planet, you had a much easier map to follow. 
The Mandalorian was still sat opposite you, he never spoke once, just stayed patiently still, almost brooding. You had glanced up from your work at him once or twice, gauging him was difficult as you couldn’t see his face, but his posture spoke loud and clear. Leant back, arm extended over the back of worn booth, the other resting (you assumed) on his thigh, taking up as much space as possible, his chest out, open, so strong and commanding. 
And yet he was so closed off. That helmet, all shine and intimidation, shielding him from the world, cutting off senses and making him rely solely on instinct and tech. Definitely a Mandalorian through and through. Silence was good for you, and having a Mandalorian sat at the same table meant that staff and drunk, nosy patrons left you well alone, which allowed you to work fast and in peace. 
With a flick of your wrist you closed the interface, finishing your task. Slinging your bag over your shoulder you shuffled out the booth. He mirrored your movement, following you in a way that was dauntingly in sync. “Before we set off I need to go back to my ship and get together supplies, we’re going to be travelling a long distance on foot so I suggest you do the same.”
“I’ll come with you,” He stated.
You blinked a couple of times. “Okay.” Showing a complete stranger, whose face you can’t even see, your very beloved ship would’ve normally been against every instinct you had, yet here you were. You turn your back to him and go to make your way out of the dingy building, you’d made exactly two steps when something grabs your arm. Your stance changes on instinct, feet in an L shape, knees braced, fists tensed at your sides, then you freeze. You turn your head to face the wastoid who was gripping your bicep. He was smiling at you, a disgusting grin that made your skin itch. 
“Sweetheart you can’t leave with a frown like that, come sit with me and I’ll cheer you up,” his tone dripped with false charm. You flashed your fakest smile back at him.
“I’m in a committed relationship with my ride, now get your hand off me before I break it off,” You exhorted, loudly. You braced yourself ready for fists to fly, when his eyes flicked to the silent statue of armour behind you. The pressure on your arm disappeared as your assailant backed away slowly, mumbling apologies to the ground. 
Relaxing your fighters stance you rolled your shoulders, adjusting your bag to sit comfortably again. The atmosphere in the cantina had become tense, you hadn’t realised how quiet it had become in the moment. With a final glance around and a nod to the unhelpful bar keep, you resumed your exit path, the Mandalorian following close behind you.
What happened in the cantina had made you prickle, it certainly wasn’t the man who had grabbed you to blame as you usually dealt with pricks like him all the time, and had been kicked out of plenty of cantinas for doing so. It was more to do with the fact tin can behind you had bailed you out without even needing to lift a finger, without saying anything at all, and you couldn’t understand it. He followed you without a word, quietly trusting your knowledge of the way as you led him through winding streets and dodgy back alleys towards where you had landed. You were constantly aware of his presence, always a couple of steps behind, completely soundless, cape sweeping behind him as he strode after you. Stars even his steps were quiet. 
The dusty blue walls of Detsak’s outer city buildings boxed you in and when you gazed up you could just see the burning sun peeping over the apex of the surrounding roofs. One final sharp turn brings you to your destination, the rusted metal gates of the ship keep raised up in sharp points in front of you.
“Rathca! Ent vi lok sey vey” You yelled through the gates.
“You speak Datsey?” The Mandalorian asked suddenly.
“Very basic Datsey,” You responded “It was a long journey here, and it’s surprisingly easy because it’s got a lot of Huttese roots.” He just nodded at you, so you turned you attention back to the gates as a small droid rolled up to them. You produced the flat matte black disc out of your bag that had been given to you on arrival and presented to the droid. A small probe extended from its chest and poked into the hole at the centre of the disc. After some whirring the droid retracted the probe and turned to the lock on the gate, the red light flashed green and you pushed the gate open, stepping inside the compound. 
You held the gate open for the Mandalorian, expecting him to sweep in after you. Instead he just stood for there for a moment, you raised your eyebrow at him in a silent question. 
Another moment passed before he moved, “I don’t like droids,” he grumbled as he went past.
“It’s a good thing they’re not looking after your ship then,” you remarked, a teasing smile playing briefly across your lips. The gate swung shut as you released it, clanging behind you as you swiftly followed the droid. 
The big intimidating Mandalorian didn’t like droids, why? You glanced behind you, eyes skimming over his form, searching for a change in body language. Given you were now surrounded by various droids doing different tasks you would have expected a change if he were afraid of them. But nothing did. So he if he wasn’t afraid of them, what was it? 
You shook your head slightly and turned your focus back to following the droid through the compound. To say the place was a mess was to put it lightly, parts of ships were piled up in jagged metal peaks, chunks of hull leant against the walls and a rainbow of wires carved out the path you were walking along. Between the hills of metal various ships were parked, some being repaired by the droids while others just sat peacefully within the chaos. A few more steps and then you saw her, your gorgeous ship.
“Cey na vi depa mey,” (The ship is staying here) you told the droid. It beeped at you, its head jerked forward in a nod and then turned and rolled away. You turned your attentions back to your ship, typing a command into your cuff you watched as the underbelly panel disengaged and sank to the ground, a ramp extended out welcoming you home. You grinned and ran up it, heading straight up to the cockpit. The Mandalorian followed suit, and you closed the ramp up behind him. Settling into you pilots seat of the cockpit, you began manipulating the controls. “Yes honey I’m home,” You said gently to the control panel when it bleeped at you softly. You brought out a wire from the main interface and, after removing the armoured cuff from your left arm, plugged it into the port on the cuff. 
“What are you doing?” The Mandalorian asked.
“I need an updated map of Detsak transferring to my internal tracker if we want to be successful in bringing this quarry back alive, there’s also some software I need to transfer as well that will be invaluable to us, especially on this planet,” You replied “you can thank me later.”
“Why.” He must be joking. You don’t come to a planet like this without knowing what’s on it first. You stood up and maneuvered  around his frame. This cockpit had definitely not been made to fit two people comfortably. You dropped down the ladder into the hold of your ship and started putting together your supplies, food and drink first. 
You placed 6 dehydrated food packs into your bag, along with water pouches and a couple of Gethan peaches, that should be enough to keep you and tin can alive for the mission, med packs were next. You only had two med packs left, you sighed as you packed them, surely he had some as well, he must have, because you knew one of you were going to hurt more than once here. 
Finally your favourite part, weapons and trap tech. Walking to the armoured cupboard you pressed the open command and password into the keypad and stepped back as your glorious collection was revealed. “Nice stash.” His sudden presence made you jump, again, how the hell does he move so quietly?
“You really need to stop doing that,” you remarked “but thank you, I’ve put a lot of love into these.”
“You weren’t joking were you?”
“About what?” You queried.
“What you said back in the cantina. Being in a committed relationship with your ride.” The Madalorian stated.
“Is there a point to any other relationship? She has everything I need, she’s reliable and she’s gotten me out of trouble more times than any person,” You knelt down next to your bag and carried on packing quietly, aware of the fact he was wandering around the hold, taking in the various panels and items you have stored “I could have gotten out of that trouble myself Mandalorian.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you step in?”
“I didn’t, the guy must have thought I was your ride.”
“Why on earth would he think that.” you paused your packing, the two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before he spoke again. “I don’t know,” he answered, your gaze dropped from his helmet and back to your task, while his roamed the walls of your ship “what’s her name?”
“Astrid, her name’s Astrid. Otherwise named the greatest ship in the galaxy,” You told him, smile plastered on your face as you looked up as him.
“Nice name,” He took another lap around the hold before saying “I’m going to go get supplies from my ship, I realise I will need some.�� You nodded, thank the stars he decided that, otherwise both of you didn’t stand much of a chance of getting out of this.
“Give me 5 minutes and I’ll come with you-“
“No.”
“I’m sorry?” you snapped
“I don’t want you coming with me. We’ll rendezvous in half an hour at the outer city gates,” he answered steadily. He’s a Mandalorian, they’re the most closed off people in the galaxy, of course he doesn’t want you to see his ship. You nod understandably and stand up. 
“Okay,” you say simply, extending your right arm to him “half an hour, outer gates.” He reaches out and clasps his hand around your upper forearm, your hand doing the same. Then he disappears.
You finish up packing and head back up to the cockpit. You unplug your cuff and secure it back around your arm, then you take your headset out of its holder, hooking it over your right ear and placing the earpiece in, then adjusting the eyepiece to sit comfortably over your eye. Pressing the button on the back of the earpiece you watched as the screen on the glass came to life, sending an initial scan across the cockpit. You looked down at your cuff and pressed the button again, watching as the sync progress bar moved quickly in front of your eyes. SYNC COMPLETE. 
Okay, change of clothes and you’ll be ready to go. You left the cockpit and headed to what you called the living side of your ship. It was kitchen, bedroom and living room all in one, with a small bathroom off to the left. You shed your armour, starting with your torso, then piece by piece moving down your body until you felt weightless from the lack of it and quickly changed ready to replace it all. You always felt wrong without your armour, all vulnerable and exposed, so whenever changing clothes speed was always a priority for you. 
You were about to grab your bag ready to leave when you caught your reflection in the mirror. You walked up to it, peering at your own face, your fingers skimmed over the white tattooed line that extended from your forehead, skipped over your left eye and finished half way down your cheek. Dots were spaced at equal points down the length of it. 
You turned your head to examine the other tattoo. A similar white line that slashed across your right cheekbone, this time lined with dots either side. The tattoos began as purely functional, but now you loved them, a unique part of you that you couldn’t hide. You smiled at your reflection, then grabbed your bag and left.
-
Tin Can was supposed to be here 20 minutes ago and he didn’t seem like the type of person who would be this late. It made you uneasy, very uneasy. After another 5 minutes of waiting you made the decision to go after him. You didn’t care if you found him and he got mad for it if nothing is wrong, but instinct told you there was something wrong and you were normally pretty sharp with this stuff. 
It was times like these you loved your tech, when you had done your forearm shake your cuff took a reading of the signals the Mandalorian’s own cuff was giving off, signals like that are unique and therefor traceable. You instructed your cuff to track the Mandalorian and started following the signal showing on your eyepiece. It didn’t take long to find him really, especially when you starting pursuing the sound of blaster fire which unsurprisingly took you right to him. 
You took a moment to take in the scene in front of you, the Mandalorian was in the centre of the chaos, three figures, on in a helmet, one in a face mask with goggles and the third conveniently covered by a hood surrounded him. He was doing quite well, he’d taken out one of the assailants as evidenced by the limp body lying a few feet from you, but even for him three on one is tricky odds to beat.
A mass of blast fire and punches blurred as you shed your bag to the floor and began to run towards the fight, producing you blaster pistol in one hand and drawing your favourite blade in the other. You beelined towards the guy who was about to spear the Mandalorian with an electro staff, with a sweep of  your leg you knocked his foot from under him, swiping your knife in his direction and digging it into his shoulder as you turned your gaze and blaster to the hooded figure running towards you, firing three shots in his direction. 
You see it hit his arm as a blaster shot whizzed past your ear, causing you to flinch away as the guy you had just stabbed made a run up with his staff. Dodge, dodge, blaster shot, knife swipe, kick to the floor, you lined up your final blaster shot as a dull pain exploded across your left bicep, the force of it knocking your knife to the ground. 
You rounded on the masked attacker, discharging shot after shot at him, he was fast, faster than you at dodging, but not fast enough to dodge all the beams, one struck him in his shoulder, incapacitating him long enough for you to turn back to shoot the hooded man as he was starting to get up. The blast cleared his chest and you watched as he slumped against the floor, staff skidding away from him and powering down.
 There wasn’t any time to breathe before a fist was flying at the side of your head, swinging your forearm you struck the fist away and landed two punches to his gut with your other fist, sweeping his leg he knocked you to the ground, blaster slipping from your grasp and sliding away across the cobbles of the street. Shit, when did he pick up that staff? You jerked your head to the side as the electrified end slammed into the ground mere inches away from your face. You kneed up into his crotch and pushed all you force against his chest shoving him off you, and rolling over you pushed yourself off the ground and ran for your blaster. 
Your fingers closed around the handle and you swung it round to point at masked man now charging at you. Heat flared next to you, a stream of hot licking flames extending just shy of your face. Fear shot into your stomach, crawling over your skin and weakening your knees, causing you to collapse to the ground. Looking in the direction of origin you saw the Mandalorian, arm extended, flames spewing from his wrist. 
And behind him- fuck. A bloody figure drew up and pointed his blaster at the back of the Mandalorian. A shot. Yours, skimming past the silvery armour of the Mandalorian and striking the dark helmeted figure behind him. The flames stopped and both of the final assailants crumpled to the ground, unmoving.
Your breathing was heavy, your arm ached and your stomach felt tight. The Mandalorian was sat on the ground too, you were both studying each other, watching and catching your breath. The adrenaline was slowing dissipating from your body’s and as the high dropped, so slightly did your guard. “You really need to watch where you point that thing,” You joked shakily.
“Yeh well, I don’t normally have people I’m not supposed to hit,” he observed.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” you added, cocking your head.
“I didn’t need your assistance.”
“Yeh it certainly looked that way,” you snapped, rolling your eyes and jumping to your feet. You holstered your blaster on your hip, glancing across at the Mandalorian who was rising to his feet as well. You scanned the ground for your dagger, grinning when your eyes landed on the silver and gilded gold blade. It was lying next to the masked guy, whom you approached and bent down next to in order to pick it up when something caught your eye. 
On the man’s belt a little red light flashed up at you, blinking steadily. A tracking fob. First placing the knife back in its holder on your armoured calf, you reached and unhooked the tracker from the body. “I need to check something, head to the outer gates, I’ll be there in 5,” The Mandalorian stated. 
You looked up at him to see him walking away from you. Stars above Tin Can, he better not make a habit of this. You began to walk towards your bag, when a thought hit you. If one of these bodies had trackers on, then the rest of them could as well. And when you searched each of them, you found you were, as usual, correct, all four of them had trackers, all blinking at exactly the same rate. They were all for the same person then. 
You popped the backs off each of the trackers and deactivated them manually. Once wiped trackers can be sold on for quite a few credits, and right now you needed all the credits you can get, so you put them in your bag and started your way towards the outer city gates. So that’s why he can’t go to the guild, he’s being hunted by them.
You had reached the gates before him, you watched for him approaching. When he appeared he had a bag slung over his shoulder and it looked like he’d polished his armour, it was glinting away under the hot sun. Even you had to admit that it did look good, it must be fairly new, except for the fact it didn’t bare his signet. He nodded to you as he drew up beside you, “Ready?” he asked.
“Let’s go.”
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mor3tti · 4 years
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Boy Wonder & The Young Goddess -Part Four-
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Dick Grayson (titans) x Reader
(Dick Grayson GIF not mine)
Uhhhhh, surprise? I’m back, I think.
I owe each and every single one of you an explanation for my absence. When I finished and posted the third chapter I thought I was going to be able to keep caught up with the oncoming chapters but the problem was that they weren’t written yet. I kept coming back to try and write the next chapter and with each try I fell out of the motivation to write it. After how many months and FINALLY finishing my exams I am now back and ready to go. Love you all, I missed Dick Grayson.
This will be a series! So stay tuned for more chapters to come!
The plot: When Y/N gets a sign from the gods to go after a troubled girl, she stumbles upon and reconnects with a dear friend from her past.
Warnings: the use of the word ‘fuck”
Taglist: @nightshade7117 @yetitty @affection-rabbit @drabby-abby @caitsymichelle13 @caswinchester2000 @peterunderoos96 @sataninsatin @chewie-redbird @bad-bitch-khaleesi @peqchynero @bookish-and-shy @kokofri14 @bluexangels @multifandoms916 @blue-and-yellow-jjk-pjm
Some usernames didn’t work so I’m sorry! You might have changed your username without me realising!
Masterlist for Boy Wonder & The Young Goddess
Even as an Amazon you still somehow got migraines, and yeah if you’re wanting to know they’re still a mega pain in the ass. The tea session with Gar had sparked some suppressed emotions which is probably a positive thing but damn did they mess with your head, literally. The best option was to swallow yourself in the mattress that was very much calling your name. Your knees were close to your chest as you tried to wait out the pain. Surprisingly in an apartment full of vigilantes there were no painkillers, then again Dick is more of the ‘brooding and ignoring the pain’ type of guy. 
Another bolt of pain shot through your temple as your fist grabbed the sheet which followed with the rest of your body clenching in pain. A quiet “fuck” left your lips as you smacked the bed trying to get the frustration out without blasting out the windows with an energy tantrum. As the storm moved from where Dick was in town it settled over you and surrounded the tower with a hollow shower of rain, thankfully no lightning and thunder. The calming rhythm of the droplets gave you something to focus in on instead of the pressure that was clouding your mind.
You stretched your hand out from under the pillow and held it above where you and Dick once laid this morning, slowly lowering it onto the still crumpled bedding. It was an odd feeling. The bed felt uneven without him even though your whole life had been balanced this entire time. You couldn't start wanting him now, especially after the mini lecture you had given him this morning about Kory and putting her first. You sharply retracted your hand and slid it back to the pillow before anyone noticed, even if the apartment was just about empty. 
As you were settling in bed Gar was settling into the corner of the couch watching the rain fall. He thought that he might as well take this moment for granted. There was no one after him, no one currently fighting their way into the apartment and especially no one to interrupt him. It was just a silent conversation between his open thoughts that still danced around your prior conversation and the rain’s simple song of serenity. Unknown to him, that serenity wouldn’t last long. 
-
Kory and Rachel were ahead of Dick as he finished paying for the small lunch they had. His hand was struggling to fit in the tight pocket as he was desperately trying to push the coins away somewhere. As he looked up from the change dilemma he noticed how far ahead the others were and jogged to catch up. The concrete was still covered in a thin film of water as it released the remaining smell of rain and the city noise around him cut into his ears. You would be surprised at how deafening the city can be but as his phone bleeped a passing car honked. His phone rattled around in his jacket pocket as the screen lit up with a stoic message from Donna.
Donna-Received at 12:48pm
I’m coming to the apartment. Don’t be alarmed if you hear a knock at the door.
The screen slowly dimmed and got ignored as the notification got sucked away by the soundtrack of the city streets.
Sure, Dick hated how loud the city was but after this he would loathe it. Soon the cars and busy people would be replaced by your screaming and tears.
-
The screen close to the door lit up with a message of ‘intruder’ which caught Gar’s attention. The tiles were cool against his feet when he turned to go wake you, motivated by his state of panic. As he reached for the doorknob he pulled himself away biting his lip as he tossed up whether he should wake you or not. The alert rang through the apartment again but was interrupted as the elevator doors slid open. As Gar’s eyes made contact his stomach dropped. This wasn’t good. And it wasn’t bad. His calming afternoon quickly turned into a nightmare. A pair of leather boots stood in front of him with a very particular rope attached to their hip. 
“With that look on your face I’m betting you didn’t know I was coming?” Her smile pressed into her dimples as she flicked her dark hair from her eyes. Gar got caught back to the situation in front of him and coughed out a chuckle trying not to look at your bedroom door in hopes of keeping your presence a secret. 
-
Rachel had bounced into the passenger seat as she gulped down the remainder of her second coffee of the day. She went to jam it into the cup holder but it was occupied by Dick’s phone. He was too focused on trying to see the oncoming traffic as the car pulled out so she grabbed it and played with it. She missed having a phone, having some form of property other than her clothes. She tapped her boots together as she threw the thought around of trading her boots for a walkman but it was interrupted with an ear piercing siren coming out of the phone’s speaker. 
“I SWEAR IT WASN’T ME!” Rachel screamed as she tried shutting the noise off. Dick’s head whipped around to see a red flashing notification come across his screen. It was a security camera image with the word ‘intruder’ pasted along it. There stood Donna looking up at the camera with a disgruntled expression across her face. He slapped the steering wheel and pushed the gas pedal down as Kory and Rachel sat confused and alarmed. 
“You know it’s just Donna right? Not some psycho killer maniac.” Kory pitched in as she leant forward to see just how angry Dick was but she didn’t see a face of anger. She saw a face that was caught up in the many flashes of childhood memories between the two of you, a face laced with fear. She lowered herself into the back seats and knew it involved you.
Really? As soon as she steps into the city Donna has to show up. Here we go again, around the twist. Two Amazons in the same apartment, wonder if it’ll even be standing by the time I get there. “Fuck!” This launched out of Dick’s mouth without his intention. Two pairs of eyes met his but he knew he had to focus on getting back to you before Donna did something to ruin it all, again.
-
Plan of attack: keep Donna in the lounge room and keep it quiet. If one of you knows you’re here then I’m stuck dealing with two Amazons. TWO!!! 
Gar wanted to squeal and rip his hair out but he knew he had to try and keep a calm facade for the fate of this building. He had explained that they didn’t have phones so there was no way of Dick letting him know she would be coming, she just shrugged and agreed on how having no phones was probably their best bet at not being found and captured. That’s one topic off the checklist. Donna had taken the same position he had earlier on the couch as he offered her a tea which she gratefully accepted. His breathing had become shallow as he was silently praying for Dick to get his ass home now. 
As he turned from facing the kettle back to the rest of the apartment he scanned the area for any remnants of you being there. It was a bit of a saviour that your armour melted back into you even though it was entirely weird and kinda gross. No belongings means no clues. He crossed his arms up and smiled to himself at what could be a successful plan of attack but as he stared out the windows his smile wavered. Donna wasn’t exactly paying attention to him but that damn calm facade had to stay up. 
Looking back at him was your sword in all its glory lying along the outside coffee table. He heard you out there last night with Dick, talking and silencing the giggles you shared. You would definitely kick yourself later for leaving it out there. The kettle was reaching its boiling point and so were his ideas.
Click. 
As the water settled from its boiling point so did his momentary worries. If she can’t see it then she won’t know. New plan of attack. Distract. Gar rushed and made her tea as he smoothly asked if she would want to sit at the kitchen island bench, his excuse? It was right under the heater. Her face twisted and she hummed but came over to him anyways. Lucky for Gar his suspicious attitude was overrun by what she thought was a boyish charm. 
The elevator doors couldn’t open fast enough as the trio stumbled into the apartment with all the groceries immediately hitting the ground. The clambering footsteps alarmed them both as they were met with three other huffing faces. There was no fire. No damage and most importantly no you.
“Okay, what is going on around here? First the apartment doesn’t let me in and then you guys act as if you’ve seen a god damn ghost!” Donna’s voice was raising higher as the seconds passed by. Gar stared past Donna’s shoulder right into Dick’s eyes. I know. Dick’s eyes twitched as he read what Gar’s face was saying, but the reality was that he didn’t actually know the truth. 
-
You shifted beneath the covers as your senses came to, immediately hearing a full apartment. Hey, more food in the house makes me happy too. As you got up off the mattress you listened in and it wasn’t exactly joyful talk, you could feel the anxiety in the household. 
Danger. 
Dick.
You flew across the room and swung the door open, nearly ripping off the hinges. Your fists were glowing ready to fight but you were met with something much worse than a fight. You heard Dick sharply inhale a breath as Kory got in front of Rachel. She didn’t know your history but she knew two Amazons in the same apartment meant trouble.
“What the he-“ She turned from facing the elevator and her frame shuddered. Donna’s sentence got caught in her throat as she stared at you. Her chest was crumbling and you could feel it. She tried swallowing her breath but her dry throat wouldn’t allow it. Instead it came out as a single sob. 
Your stance hardened as her gaze turned cold, glazed over. You knew if you fought her that you would win either way. Each muscle slowly relaxed as you returned to a standing position. This isn’t a time to fight. 
“Donna just listen don’t start jumping to any of the ideas going through your head.” Dick was stepping towards her trying to settle anything, something to stop this. There was an eerie silence filled only with the sound of breathing. Her eyes didn’t stray from yours.
Dick looked as if he was trying to approach a wild animal with his hands up and a calm but shaking voice. His boots squeaked against the tiles and it all broke as if a pin had dropped. 
A gold stream of light ripped through the apartment. “Y/N!” There was immediate screaming as everything broke loose. It was as if the sun had entered the room, light was streaming everywhere as they had to shade their eyes. Dick shut his eyes, trying to get through to you with his thoughts knowing you’d be able to hear them, pleading for you to stop. He had the wrong impression. 
Inside the ball of light wasn’t a battle. Every strike Donna threw you blocked. This isn’t a time to fight. You would let her beat you to a pulp, pummel you into the ground but you wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Another blow came but it burnt. You back jolted as her heel came into contact with your chest. The fibres from the rope dug themselves into your neck as your knees dug into the floor. The light faded but the rope continued to glow. 
Rachel gasped and clung onto Kory as the air was withering it’s way out of your lungs. She had you trapped with the rope around your neck and everyone sat there watching you choke. Now the tables have turned and you look like the intruder.
This isn’t a time to fight. Your hands came up to tug the rope and pull her closer to you. Her boots skidded against the floor and as you looked up to her eyes, they were no longer cold. Instead they reflected you in the pool of tears. Another sob worked its way from her chest and her body struggled to hold it together. She was shaking her head not being able to process who was in front of her. Dick could feel her betrayal and confusion from the other side of the room.
As you tugged the rope again she came that one step closer. A hushed sentence came from her trembling lips. 
“You’re alive?”
As her breath left her body you left the building in a spark of light and her rope puddled on the floor. She couldn’t take her eyes off where you once were as everyone else kept still in the remaining silence.
It was as if she’d seen a ghost.
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seekstrivefind · 4 years
Note
can i get some jamilton laser tag????
You sure can! Disclaimer: I haven’t played laser tag in 15+ years and I haven’t written Jamilton ever.
Want a Hamilton mini-fic? Prompt me!
Jamilton, laser tag, 1907 words
“Okay, so. Here’s our strategy—”
Alexander’s jaw is set, brow furrowed in determination. He’sgot his vest strapped on, the blocky plastic laser-gun held across his body,and he’s addressing his friends like a general addressing his gathered troops.Lafayette is listening intently. Hercules is shoving John, who’s bouncing onhis toes, eager to get going and barely paying any attention at all.
“—how about ‘lose graciously’?” drawls a familiar voice frombehind Alexander. Alexander scowls. Hercules rolls his eyes and John gives anaudible ‘ugh’. Lafayette’s face lights up as he waves.
“Thomas!” he exclaims cheerfully, and then catches sight ofAlexander’s murderous expression. “Ah, sorry. I forgot; we are enemies.”
Lafayette taps the blue of his vest, and nods towards thered of Thomas’. Alexander lets out a steadying breath, and turns on his heel toface their opponent.
Thomas looks ridiculous. Despite knowing that they would bespending the afternoon running through a darkened room with laser-guns pointedat each other, he’s wearing a button-down and a tie. An actual tie. The veststrapped over the top tapers towards his narrow waist and hips, the laser-gunswings idly from one long finger. His hair is pulled back, something thatAlexander has seen only rarely, and it seems to accentuate the high line of cheekbones,the slender column of elegant neck, and did Alexander say ridiculous?Because he’s not even convincing himself. His scowl deepens.
“Any tips for losing graciously, Jefferson?” he snaps. “Ohno, that’s right—you’ve never done anything graciously a day in your life.”
“Never lost anything, either,” Thomas remarks coolly, oneeyebrow quirking up.
“Dunno, pretty sure you lost big when they were handing outfashion sense,” John pipes up from behind Alexander.
“Oh, you trained your monkey to talk?” Thomas remarks, fauxsurprise colouring his face as he presses his hand to his chest. “You couldmake real money off that little trick. Finally buy yourself a decent suit.”
“Fuck you,” John says, and Alexander hears a brief scufflethat sounds to his experienced ears like John Laurens being held back by oneHercules Mulligan. Thomas takes a step closer, and Alexander remembers to makea conscious effort to untie the knot in his tongue and come up with some wittyrejoinder.
“Yeah, fuck you,” is what he actually manages, which—notexactly his best work. But Thomas is stalking towards him with an almostmesmerising poise, and Alexander’s mouth is suddenly as barren as a desertwasteland. He swallows. It’s distinctly unfair that Thomas—an arrogant,pretentious, privileged son-of-a-bitch determined to put Alexander down to getahead—is also a complete wet dream, like somebody somewhere went down atick-list of Alexander’s desires and then slapped a faulty personality inlast-second.
Makes arguing with him properly real difficult, and this ishardly the first time that Alexander’s been trapped in the confused placebetween anger and arousal.
Thomas extends a finger, and prods Alexander in the chestwith it, leaning down so that they’re face-to-face.
“We all know who’s going to come out on top,” Thomas says witha smile, and Alexander sinks a sharp tooth into the side of his tongue in a determinedattempt not to think too hard about that phrasing. “Might as well cometo terms with it now, Hamilton.”
And then he’s gone, sweeping past them without even a secondlook.
“—well!” Lafayette says brightly before whatever collectionof inventive curse-words John has been stringing together can leave his mouth. “Ifor one am looking forward to this. Let’s go, shall we?”
Alexander, still glowering darkly and trying to calm the jitteringthump of his pulse, follows his friends without a word.
It’s chaos once the buzzer sounds. Any strategy they’d beenrelying on quickly falls apart as grown men and women start sprinting andshrieking, hammering plastic triggers and swearing sharply when their vestsflash to show they’ve been hit. Hercules ducks away without any of the rest ofthem actually noticing him go. John gets hit from behind and takes off with awar cry in pursuit of his attacker, determined on revenge. Lafayette is laughingdelightedly, and it’s not long before Alexander is separated from him, too.
Not that any of it matters. It’s just team-building,a stupid day out with colleagues that they’re forced to endure once a quarter.It’s laser-tag, for God’s sake, it’s for children. Except that the office livesand dies by the winners of the team-building games, and Alexander’s departmentare on a winning streak that he’s determined not to break.
He tucks himself into an empty corner, listening to the mayhemand deciding on his best strategy now that he’s alone. Points-wise, finding agood spot and staying put, sniping his competition as they move around isprobably the most efficient, and judging by the bedlam of the first sixty secondsof the game, they’re going to need all the points they can get.
He ducks out from the corner, advancing down a narrowcorridor, staying low. He hasn’t been hit yet, and that’s a badge of honour initself; a hard one to keep hold of in these games.
Alexander wouldn’t have noticed the branching corridor if anarm hadn’t come out of nowhere, practically clotheslining him before grippingthe strap of his vest and pulling him bodily into it.
“What the f—”
That’s as much as he gets out before there’s a hand clampedover his mouth, and Alexander is blinking rapidly up at the face of ThomasJefferson.
“You’re welcome,” Thomas says flatly. Alexander makes asound that’s close enough to what for, asshole? to be interpreted, and Thomastips his head just as a knot of red-team vests tumble past, whooping andhollering. It’s a long moment before he removes his hand.
“What,” Alexander repeats, tugging on the bottom of his vestto fix it, riding up askew on one side where Thomas had pulled on it, “is yourgame, Jefferson?”
“What, a man can’t do something nice for a colleague?”Thomas asks, and there’s a sharp glint to his smile, preternatural in theglowing blue lights of the course. Alexander narrows his eyes.
“A man? Sure. The devil himself dressed in a person-suit?Not so much.”
Thomas tuts, leaning back against the wall and folding hisarms as Alexander finishes brushing himself off.
“You think so little of me, Hamilton.”
“And every time I think I’ve hit the lower limit, you find away to prove me wrong,” Alexander mutters.
“You think I’m playing an angle?” Thomas asks, apparentlyexamining his fingernails idly, though the low light must make it impossiblefor him to see much other than the vague outline of his hand.
“Obviously,” Alexander retorts. Thomas pushes himself upfrom the wall, and Alexander steps back reflexively as Thomas advances on him oncemore. In this narrow recess, there’s nowhere much to go; he feels his back hitthe wall. Thomas doesn’t stop, not until they’re toe-to-toe.
“Then ask yourself this, Hamilton,” Thomas suggests, leaningone hand on the wall next to Alexander’s face and leaning close. “Why are youstill here?”
There’s a long and laboured silence, tense despite the lowthump of the shitty electronic music that’s being pumped in through too manytinny speakers, cut through by the sound of two dozen adults behaving likekids. Thomas is close enough that Alexander can feel the heat rolling from him,the warm dance of Thomas’ breath against his own lips. Another shift and they’repractically chest-to-chest, and either Alexander is having a delightful aneurysmor Thomas’ knee is pressing between his thighs.
Alexander swallows hard against the tightness in his throat,gaze hooked on Thomas’ own. And he might be imagining the feather-light brushof fingers against his hip or the way that Thomas presses yet another half-inchcloser, but he knows he’s not imagining it when Thomas’ eyes flicker downtowards his parted lips.
“You seem to know everything,” Alexander says, faintly. “Youtell me.”
Thomas kisses him with a slow deliberation that chafesagainst Alexander’s impatience. When he runs his tongue across Alexander’s lipsit’s with unhurried intention. He laughs, a low and curling chuckle thatAlexander feels echo between his ribs, rattling between his lungs, whenAlexander tries to push up against him, to coax something more urgent from him.Thomas won’t be moved, won’t be pushed. He only waits, smiling into Alexander’sfrustration until Alexander is forced to meet Thomas’ terms, to move at Thomas’pace.
Thomas finally licks in behind Alexander’s teeth, suckslightly on Alexander’s tongue, drags teeth against his lower lip, and Alexanderis almost dizzy with want, hands pawing slackly at Thomas’ chest, frustrated bythe bulk of the vest that means he can’t feel the smooth curve of muscle thathe knows hides underneath.
“You lose, Hamilton,” Thomas murmurs against Alexander’slips, half pulling back. Alexander chases the kiss, freezing when he feelssomething jammed against his chest. He hears the descending bleep, sees theflashing of his vest as it illuminates Jefferson’s predatory smile. “Again.”
Alexander looks down in disbelief at the laser-gun pressedagainst his chest, and then back up at Thomas.
“You absolute fucking cu—”
“—ah, ah,” Thomas says disapprovingly, presses his lips againstAlexander’s once more to cut off the obscenity. Alexander tries to bite down,to drag sharp teeth against Thomas’ lip, but he’s already pulling back, a lookof smug satisfaction on his face. “What I did tell you about losing gracefully?”
And then Thomas is gone, and Alexander stands there, utterlyenraged and hopelessly turned on, heart jack-rabbiting in the cage of his chestand laser-gun hanging loosely by his side.
Once the lights come back up, Alexander finds the others inthe lobby. John is wild-eyed, bordering on the manic. At some point, his hairhas come loose and his curls are splayed wide around his face, a mess of darkhair that Lafayette is laughing fondly over, doing his best to finger-comb itinto some semblance of order.
“Why the long face?” Hercules asks as Alexander approaches,knocking a punch against his shoulder that rocks Alexander onto one foot for abrief second. Alexander glances at the screen, where the team scores are yet tobe listed. It flickers to display individual high scores, and John whoops whenhis name appears at the top, punching both fists up into the air.
“I am amazed he did not get hurt,” Lafayette laughinglytells Alexander. “He was running wild; shooting people point blank. Like Rambo.”
“I wish they’d let you have two guns,” John says, mournfully.
“Hey, man,” Hercules says, pointing up at the screen wherethe teams have been ranked in order. “We won!”
There’s assorted whoops and groans throughout the room as people,breathless and sweating, celebrate victories or bemoan defeat. Money changeshands, as is common. Alexander catches sight of Thomas, vest and gun alreadyabandoned, talking to Madison. He notices Alexander, and grins widely, closingone eye and stretching out an arm to aim one finger like a gun right atAlexander’s chest.
“I’m not so sure,” he mutters to himself under his breath,and then deliberately turns his back to Thomas to watch John slap Lafayette’shands away from his hair.
“Celebrations are in order!” John proclaims. “Let’s get wasted.”
And yeah. Yeah, Alexander can get behind that plan.
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pjstafford · 4 years
Text
The Bad Boy/Good Guy public personality dynamic of David Duchovny
Written as a birthday gift (with her blog prompt) for Charmion @grungekid84
Dedication: Charmion and I are of different generations; separated in age by over twenty years. I was the age she is now, about, when the X-files was new and she watched it first as a child. Yet today we share similarities in thoughts related to our celebrity crush. To both Charmion and David Duchovny I say, I hope this blog does the love the justice it deserves.
Why are women 20 to 70 years of age fan girls of the 59 year old David Duchovny? Not simply fans! Fans might watch a movie because an actor is in it. They might rewatch a series a half dozen times. Fan girls like Charmion have an Xfile room and paint pictures. Fan girls like myself write blogs, fan fic and team up with fan girls like Cathy Glinski to present at academic conferences. Why do women who have no other celebrity crushes have this need to celebrate this one celebrity in these ways? It seems significant to me the age range of women who are fan girls. I have stood in an audience surrounded by women barely old enough to meet the 21 age limit who knew every word to each of his songs. I heard one such woman say that this is an experience she would tell her grandchildren about. I, also, know women closer to 70 who have traveled to a meet and greet or comic con because they wanted the opportunity to thank this celebrity for the years of joy. Just today as I start to write this a woman I do not know tweeted @hearteyes4david an open letter to the world with a life wish to meet and thank this man. There are so many of us who just want to say thank you. And I won’t say none of us are not, but most of us are not crazy. We are lobbyists, store managers, attorneys, emergency room nurses, church secretaries of different ages and nationalities, many happily married, most normal women ( and some men). So many of us eager, compelled almost, to meet a single specific man and say thank you.
Some of it, people will say, is lust. Yes, it’s possible that if he was a less attractive man we would wish to thank him in person less. Still, can you truly look at the picture at the end of this blog and say his looks are so much more Adonis like than any other man? To say it’s purely a physical lust for a handsome man is dismissive of the intelligent, thoughtful women so moved to want to thank him.
His talent? “Sweet baby Jesus” he gave us Mulder and if that wasn’t enough, Moody. Whether he is playing a man who has lost his wife in Return to me, a drugged out doctor in Playing God, or a Russian operative determine to see the US nuked in Phantomn he makes every character seem so real that he gets a reputation for only playing himself. He is so good of an actor playing such diverse roles that folks can’t believe is truly acting. Still, I think most of us would just be fans and not fan girls if good looks and talent was all he had going for him
He is multi-talented and many love the rock star with romantic, heart breaking lyrics. For me, as I have often said, he is my favorite living novelist with three novels published and a fourth to come out soon. He writes intelligent, funny, heart breaking novels with an unique style and characters that again seem real (even the talking animals). In a recent interview he said something to the effect that his kids could read these novels and know who he was a man. I think that’s why I love his writing so much is because lyrics or prose they are authentic expressions of an artist’s personality; which brings me to Charmion prompt...the personality of David Duchovny.
I have met the man briefly a handful of times. I like the man I have met, but I can’t pretend to know more anymore than his public persona. I know how he comes across in interviews, what others who know him say about him, and all I can possibly gleam from his public art...from the things he has acted in and from his written art- the XFiles the Unnatural, the movie “House of D”, the novels, the lyrics, the distorted selfies in the mirrors reflections he tweeted when he used to tweet. This is how I know what I know about the man...and the fact that the few times I met him he was soft spoken, polite, humble and kind; taking time to answer my questions intelligently, joke a little and write kind words.
I know he is flawed. It is impossible to be a fan and not know about some of the faults which have been well publicized. As he himself says in my favorite of his songs, “I got skeletons in my closet which time ain’t forgot...”. They will never be forgotten. They will be included 20 or 30 years from now in his obituary. His flawed character is a fact, it has been aired, it is part of who he is.
I have written that what I love best about his writing is the combination of darkness and despair with the lightness of the human spirit and resiliency (mmm...the ability to believe?) rising out of darkness. He writes about the most depressing subjects on earth realistically and the fairy tale quality which rises to fill our hearts, to make us laugh and cry, is as real. It is either or both n amazing technique and/ or a result of a world view. I choose to believe it is the latter.
David Duchovny is no saint, but God Damn, he seems like a remarkably good guy with enough of a bad/boy mischievous side to make his personality as sexy as fucking itself. See how I just got a little different in my language there. David puts fucking in a book title, god damn in a song, gets bleeped on air record breaking number of times. God damn, fuck you if you think this is a man who is afraid to swear. He is not really Fox Freaking Mulder but he is David Fucking Duchovny
He is a good guy. He is intelligent. His ability to reference the high brow literary comes across in all his works. His second album title is from a Shakespeare quote. Walt Whitman shows up throughout his novels (and his dog’s tweets). He is well read, it quite well known. If you don’t get that reference, he would, as a Dylan fan and a fan of many other musical artists. He is also happy to talk about and reference sporting heros.
He is a bad boy. Oh, but the lowbrow humor! Early interviews have fart jokes, bathroom humor. He has a knack for intermixing the profane and profound. His novel, Miss Subways, has the elementary teacher leaving the classroom in tears when an assignment (write a letter to a Shakespeare minor character) results in an innocent boy reading “My dearest Fellatio...”.
He is a good guy. He is a romantic. He gave the XFiles fans the shippy Mulder and Scully baseball scene. He believes in his heart that Californication was at heart a love story. He writes lyrics for his ex wife who loves the rain saying “ It will always be raining in this song.” In his novel are real people having real sex type of scenes...no great erotica with flowing hair and heaving bosoms for this man, but discussion of lights on or off or an older couple off screen and an adult son hearing and embarrassed.
He is a bad boy. The man has no fear of nudity. . In his first movie he was filmed completely naked. In the commentary to the rapture he admits that he told the director he thought the character slept in the nude. (Hence the balls shot). It was his idea to wear the red speedo. He improvised the moonshot in evolution.
He is a good guy. He believes in causes. He volunteers and donates to protect the planet, for animal rights, for music education and for planned parenthood. His was the only story in over 200 XFiles episodes that truly dealt with racial injustice and segregation.
He is a good guy. In House of D the thirteen year old boy’s best friend is a forty year old janitor with special needs. He is a bad boy. That boy and janitor told each other a lot of pee jokes.
I can go on and on and on about the bad boy/good guy public personna of David Duchovny, but I am going to close with a subject that might tempt fate and bring forth the haters. I want to end with thinking about David and women.
In Red Shoes diaries David was in the forefront of the soft porn explosion. In an interview this year Brigitte Bako describes her experience in filming the movie as the “worst experience of my life”; but has nothing but complimentary things to say about David, how sweet and nice he was. They became close friends and she later appeared in an episode of Californication.
In Californication, David was the star of one of the raunchiest series in television history. Tits and ass, fucking and punching. I love the show but it would likely not be made today although, to be fair, it demonstrates women having agency over their sexuality. Nevertheless, actresses who appeared on that show have recently been asked what it was like. Over and over again they talk about how comfortable the environment was and how polite and respectful David was.
Much has been made over Gillian Anderson being paid half of David Duchovny’s salary. This is hardly his fault and something he argued against once he was made aware of it, but, as a fan of the show, I love hearing him talk protectively of Mulder and of wanting to protect that relationship. I love that he was responsible for rewriting an ending to one of seasons 11 episodes which end not with Mulder objectifying Scully and not with him in his under wear, but with Scully opining the door and him standing there. As David said, Scully being in control of her own desires.
Finally in Miss Subways, I find a female character written with such realism and authenticity that I have to go back to the 19th century to find a female literary character so relatable to me. She is a reader, beautiful to some men, a little eccentric in some ways, vulnerable, strong but without a great belief in herself or her talent. She’s just fucking real in a fucking real world despite being in a surrealistic fantasy novel with Irish banshees and African spider goddesses, parallel timelines and phones that can alter reality.
We, the fan girls, love this celebrity, David Duchovny because of his looks, his talent and his personality; because he is a bad boy and a good guy; because he inspires us, because he is flawed as we all are and goes through his life trying to be present in the day. For all the fan women who have yet to meet you, Mr. Duchovny, I say thank you and we love you, until they can meet you and tell you themselves.
Happy Birthday, Charmion. If you should meet him someday when I am not there give him an extra hug for me.
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13ismyheart · 5 years
Text
13 x Reader - A human stink bomb
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A/N: okay so this took me a while, mainly bc I read the prompt wrong the first time... i don’t know how that happened. Anyway, I hope you like it :)
Warnings: none that I can think of
Summary: Team Tardis is visiting a supposedly desolate planet, but why is someone crying and who is it?
“Alright fam, today's destination is -”, the Doctor said in an excited voice while spinning something that looked remarkably like a globe, but instead of having continents on it, it was decorated with what looked like different planets. She put her finger on it to stop it, “Ohh, Shanghai. Haven't been there in quite a while. You'll love it, way different to earth Shanghai though. Less populated for sure. Also, less buildings, basically just flora and nature. Not at all like earth Shanghai.” You looked at your girlfriend as if she had grown a second head, which for all you knew, was entirely possible for timelords. Before you could voice you’re bewilderment, Yaz was already asking: “Wait. So, there is a desolate planet called Shanghai out there?”. Her look of confusion was mirroring your own quite well. Ryan and Graham seemed less affected by the news. “As long as it's got no Daleks, I am up for it.” was all that Ryan had to say and Graham just nodded, checking his pockets for his emergency sandwich. “Yup. Beautiful scenery and no Daleks”, she looked at Ryan when she said this, “there is also a planet called Barcelona. It's got dogs with no noses, you'd love that too! But first, Shanghai!” With that the Doctor began to press and pull all types of different buttons and levers and once again you marvelled at her brilliance. Even with thousand years of training you would never understand how to steer the Tardis, you still got the hot chocolate button and the toast button mixed up, much to everyone's amusement.
The Doctor was right, you did love it. Wherever you looked, each way you turned your head, a picturesque landscape would meet your gaze. You kept thinking how perfect this place would be for a romantic pick-nick, but you couldn't really bring up that idea since you and the Doctor had decided to keep your relationship a secret for the time being. While you were sure the others weren't homophobic, Yaz herself was bisexual and everyone was fine with that, you just didn't want to risk any change in dynamics. Also being okay with homosexuality or bisexuality in theory was quite different to being okay with it when you were encountering it in your personal environment. It was okay the way it was though, of course you would like to tell them eventually, as would the Doctor you were sure of that, but for now you were fine with it being a secret. It kind of added even more mystery and excitement to your relationship and made you appreciate the moments when the two of you were alone while everyone else was home visiting family or friends even more. But now was not the time to think about any of this, not when there was so much beauty around you that was practically begging you to take it all in.
You and the rest of the team had just reached the most beautiful waterfall you had ever seen, when you head a cry. Immediately the Doctor got into defence mode, pulling out her sonic and stepping in front of you leading you towards where she thought the sound had come from. “I think it came from round here, Doc.”, Graham said as he pointed to a bush. Trying to be as silent as you could, which realistically wasn't very silent at all considering you had to literally climb through a bush which rustled even when left undisturbed, you made your way into a small clearing. If this were a film this would definitely be the place where the lead character got their first kiss, that is how beautiful it looked. “Look!”, Ryan said and pointed to what looked like a bundle of blankets about a couple hundred meters ahead of you. “Alright, everybody, stay back. For all that we know, this could be a bomb.” The cry sounded again, and this time you recognised it. The cry sounded human, so you decided to ignore the Doctor's order to stay back and instead ran towards the blankets.
Right before you was a little baby, wrapped only in blankets, left alone on a supposedly desolate planet. The Doctor was only a step behind you, having followed you directly to be able to help you in case the unidentified object actually turned out to be harmful. She looked over your shoulder at the baby, then turned around to address Graham, Ryan and Yaz. “Definitely not a bomb”, she shouted, then turned back around to you and mumbled. “At least I should hope so.” You laughed and finally bent down to pick up the baby, which immediately began to gurgle happily. “I think the only bomb this one's going to be is a stink bomb, Doc”. You say as you turn towards the rest of the team that had now reached you as well. “It's a baby, but Doctor, I thought you said this was an uninhabited planet?”, were Yaz's first words after she saw what you were holding in your arms. The Doctor scrunched up her nose as she replied. “It is. Or at least it was supposed to be. I have no idea how this baby got here.” She pulled out her sonic again and scanned the baby in your arms for God knows what. Your main focus at the moment lay on the child itself. It had managed to free one of its tiny hands from its confines and was now happily playing with your hair, ignoring the bleeping of the sonic. “It’s definitely a human child and it doesn’t seem to be injured in any way, which is astonishing because it must have lain here for at least a few hours without any food or stimulation. Poor thing must be starving.”  
You weren’t too sure how you made it back to the Tardis or how long it had been since you found the little baby girl, but it sure felt like quite a while. While everyone absolutely adored her, she was still a baby and that meant a lot of work, even if distributed fairly between 5 people. Well, if you say fairly you are lying a little bit because Mel, short for Melinda, as you had all decided you would name her, had her favourites and you were definitely number one on that list, which meant you had to be around nearly constantly or Mel would start to cry. Still, everyone was helping take care of her and watching Ryan change her nappies would definitely not get old for quite a while longer. You were just holding her in the console room when you heard the voices of Ryan and Yaz not far away. “I swear there is something going on between those two. The Doctor doesn’t look at any of us like that when we hold her.” You felt your cheeks blush as you listened to them both speculate over your relationship with the Doctor. Speaking of the Devil, the Doctor just swooshed into the room, pausing at the console to take in the picture of you with little Mel in your arms. It was the first time you consciously noticed the look in her eyes. It was so full of love and made her whole face light up. “You see that? That’s exactly what I was talking about.” You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed how Ryan and Yaz had come up behind you, so you jumped a bit at the sound of his voice, thankfully not disturbing the sleeping bundle of blankets you were holding. Blushing you turn towards them. “I think we should wait until Graham is back, but we have something to tell you.”, you said and turned your head to look at the Doctor searching her face for any signs of approval. She smiled a bit confused, but nodded her head anyway. She trusted you to have recognised the right moment to tell the others.
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