#donna's mysterious past

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (4)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan wants to clear things up about the night out and his mystery companion, and the reader gets another surprise in LA. Will the two finally have their first date or will something get in the way once more?

Ewan's publicist Donna has never had any issue with her client before. Always present and accounted for, on time for whatever interview, photoshoot or audition he has booked for the day.

But she hasn't been able to get a hold of him in the past two days, which is worrying her to no end, because he is set to meet with a major casting director in New York some time in the coming week.

Donna may have a clue as to why. It's only been two days as well since the pub incident, when The Sun ran a story speculating on Ewan's lovelife - the exact kind of thing he's always been trying to avoid.

It had taken a life of its own, with fans taking it upon themselves to track down every clue of the girl on the internet. Her instagram. Her relation to the cast - apparently she is a cousin of Luke and Elliott. Even the marketing agency where she works. Louise, a 26-year old graphic designer, admittedly harbours a crush on Ewan, and when she heard that her cousins were hanging out with him at a pub nearby, she almost immediately invited herself and her friends over.

But that's all, according to Ewan. After talking to Luke, memories of the night came rushing back to him.

Stumbling out in the alley to send you that voice message. Rejoining the boys to see that they've got new company. Being introduced to Louise, with Tom joking that he should be careful with the missus. Wouldn't want her - you - to think that he's flirting with anyone else.

Even though that's exactly what happened. Not the flirting, per se. Not from Ewan's side, at least. Louise had been brazen with admiration, barely leaving his side the rest of the night. Asking him a bunch of probing questions he had neither the interest nor the patience to answer.

They had all thought the pub was safe from prying eyes. No one approached them for anything, not even a single look of recognition followed by the question, “Are you that guy from House of the Dragon?” Unfortunately, it only takes one rat for a headline to surface. Ewan Mitchell’s mystery girl has been the talk of the fandom and Donna has been trying hard to quell the rumours. 

Such is the nasty nature of the business, as she knows Ewan has quickly learned.

She dials him again, and to her surprise, the call actually patches through.

Her client's throaty voice is heard on the other line, "Hey, Donna, sorry if I've missed your calls."

"It's alright, it's alright, Ewan," Donna stammers. "Just glad to hear from you. Where are you? I've managed to do some damage control about those rumours and - "

"Oh, I'm in LA. I just landed about an hour ago," Ewan responds casually, not mirroring the stress in Donna's tone. Has he gotten over the fuss so easily?

"LA? You know your meeting is not till next week, right? And it's in New York. It's very, very important that you don't miss it, Ewan."

"And I won't," Ewan affirms, laughing dryly to console his worried publicist. "I just need to see about something over here."

Someone, he thinks. He's got his priorities straight.

"Work-related?" Donna asks, curious.

"Uhhhm," Ewan dithers, but decides against telling her about you. Not just yet. "Just visiting a friend. I'll stay here for a while then fly out to New York, don't worry."

"Okay, just keep in touch, alright? I'll send more details about the meeting soon."

"Sure thing. Thank you, Donna."

"Talk soon, Ewan. Take care of yourself."

Donna feels a huge sense of relief wash over her when the call ends, knowing the whereabouts of one of her biggest clients. But why LA? Perhaps Ewan just needed some time off after the flurry of annoying headlines put out in the UK.

Or maybe he's visiting with a friend? Who is stateside right now? Fabien's filming in Philly. The rest of the boys are still in England. But then...

Her thoughts land on the one thing - the one person - that would make him fly out on such short notice. Without giving thought to anything else, especially after the speculation on his romantic life.

Ewan's never been one to share about personal affairs, not even to his close-knit team, but no matter how reclusive he is, no one can deny the way he looks at you. The way he lights up when you're brought up in conversation. The number of times he had excused himself from their meetings to make a call, standing in the corner with a permanent smile etched on his face.

Oh, Donna knows now just who he is in LA for.

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Like inevitable spectres haunting someone of his profession, Ewan noticed the papparazzi snapping away as he arrived in LA.

He told no one he would be coming, so it must be an automatic thing in the city. The photogs are always scurrying in the periphery, ready to catch anyone of note, no matter the degree of fame or notoriety.

If you were keeping up with such news, you would know he is in the city.

But according to your assistant Clara, who was kind enough to inform him of your schedule, you are still finishing up on another day of rehearsals for your upcoming rom-com. Ewan checked in the same hotel as you, planning to seek you out as soon as you arrive back from work.

He hasn't spoken to you since the voicemail, and since those false news broke out. Not that he can blame you - wouldn't anyone be suspicious of a drunken confession made by a guy who was allegedly in the company of another girl?

He hates it, being subject to all of this. This nonsense that is keeping you from him, not even worth any consequence.

But he will deal with the blows. As long as he sets things right with you. As long he gets you in the end.

He settles in his suite, getting ready to meet with you once more. He showers, shaves, tousles his hair. He even checks whether he smells decent after all of that - once, twice, and another time. Being nervous to stand in front of a crowd is one thing; it's a whole other conundrum for him finally see you again.

Maybe the crowds are more manageable, and it baffles him to realise so. He can put on a persona, be the actor, and disappear inside himself as the cameras flash bright enough for him to disassociate.

But not with you. He wants to show you everything that he is, who he truly is, and it scares him. There is no team to help him get ready now. It's all him, just Ewan.

Clad in his trusty black jeans and a comfortable hoodie of the same dark colour, he looks in the mirror one last time after receiving a text from Clara that you've arrived at the hotel about half an hour ago.

He contemplates opening the bottle of bourbon from the minibar and taking a shot of liquid courage - something to help him get his explanation ready. Just so he wouldn't stammer in front of you.

Just so you he can make you see, without any error or trace of doubt, that he meant every word in that voicemail, no matter how embarrassing it might have sounded.

He decides against it, imagining the wrinkling of your nose as you catch a whiff of the alcohol. It's cute when you do it, and he adores it so dearly, but he knows that it isn't the right moment.

He rights himself, rolls his shoulders, and he's out the door.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Jacob trails you inside your hotel suite, laughing at some shared remark about the scenes you rehearsed for the day.

They were emotionally demanding and even after tossing around ideas for hours, the two of you were unable to achieve a satisfying approach to the scenes.

Which is why he had proposed practicing well into the evening, and you found yourselves heading back to your suite together. He has his own house in LA, but your hotel just happened to be closer to the rehearsal studio.

"Care for a drink?" you asked him.

"Why the hell not?" he immediately assents in that easy, Aussie drawl. "We might need it for this shite."

You laugh in agreement, "Indeed. I've got some canned gin and tonics if that's alright.. or beer... or whiskey... " you trail off as you study the contents of your fridge.

"G and t, please, mate," he settles down on the couch, legs stretching in front of him. "We were so unproductive today. I just could not get that line right."

"Tell me about it." You hand him his drink, and he clinks it with yours with a mumbled cheers. "It was me who can't land the right tone," you say. "I mean, is my character supposed to be confused in that moment? Or angry? Or sad?"

"Or all of 'em." he shrugs. "Tricky, isn't it?"

You hurriedly fetch your script from a table, getting right down to it. "So for the first scene in the third act..."

Moments later, with cans of gin and tonic discarded on the coffee table, you and Jacob sit with legs crossed on the couch facing each other. Scripts in hand, you go through the lines over and over, with only seemingly minor tweaks each time. To an actor though, even just the slightest change of pitch or expression makes all the difference.

"Is that better? I think we almost got it," you say after a read-through.

"Yeah, so much better," he grins, holding his hand up for a high-five. Just as your hands smack in the air, another sound echoes faintly from the door.

"Someone's knocking?" Jacob asks. "You expecting anybody? Room service or anything?"

"No," you shake your head, trying to think of whether your assistant or publicist said anything about dropping by. "Maybe it's just housekeeping?"

"I'll get it," Jacob states, already padding his way to the door.

A beat later, you hear Jacob loudly exclaim, "Ewan, mate! It's good to see you!"

Ewan? A shiver runs up your spine. Craning your neck to get a view of a doorway, you catch sight of him, half-obscured by Jacob's tall frame.

Confused, surprised, and feeling some other emotion you can't pinpoint, you head over to greet him.

"How are you doing?" Jacob greets, shaking Ewan's hand, oblivious to the poorly hidden distaste in his eyes.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Ewan finds himself asking Jacob, a bit rudely, just as you ask him the same.

"What are you doing here?" you mirror his question at the exact same time.

"Oh!" Jacob breathes out a laugh, "Well, I'll go first. We were just practicing lines."

"In her room? Isn't it a bit late for rehearsal? I thought you're supposed to be off work." Ewan asks, and it sounds like an accusation. He starts to feel all kinds of uneasy - were the twins right about life imitating art?

You narrow your eyes at him. "We decided to continue running lines after rehearsal. There's a scene we can't get right. It's quite tricky - "

"Just the two of you? Alone, here?" Ewan tilts his head, gesturing towards the room like it's some forbidden place.

Jacob shakes his head, smile steady on his lips. If he's caught on to how Ewan must be feeling, he doesn't let it affect him. He gives you a look, as if to check your reaction, and you give him a reassuring shrug.

Ewan does not overlook this exchange. He clenches his jaw, irate from the assumptions popping up in his mind. Before he forgets his manners, he says, "Excuse me, I just... wasn't expecting... I just wanted to speak to you."

"I didn't even know you were in LA," you say, before moving aside to usher him in. "But I'm glad you are, of course. Come join us - "

He nods, making his way to the seating area, where he spies the discarded cans of alcohol and dog-eared scripts. Maybe he should have taken that bloody shot after all.

He laughs joylessly to himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, you guys. I just flew in today, and I must have been exhausted from the flight."

"Hey, no worries, mate," Jacob says. "You know what, I'll be on my way. Give you time to catch up and all." He picks up his own tattered script then gives you a kiss on the cheek, bidding you with a, "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, sweetheart."

If looks could kill, and if his dear mother hadn't raised him right, he would have incinerated Jacob in that moment.

He is snapped out of his thoughts when Jacob claps him on the shoulder, "Great to see you again, mate. Have a good night, eh?"

Ewan knows he's being ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with two friends and co-stars spending some time alone to rehearse. Besides, last he heard, you were adamant that you and Jacob are just friends.

So why is he being so irrational? Why does the idea of you spending more time than necessary with Jacob, possibly falling for him, bother him so much?

Ewan realises that this is what jealousy must feel like.

He's had career envy before. Another actor landing a role he vied for. Someone else getting the praise he deserves.

But nothing like this. It's petty and possessive.

He wants you to just be his.

You stand in front of him once more after you walk Jacob out of the suite.

"Hey," you say, smiling weakly.

"Hi, darling."

Both of you want to do more. Say more. Usually you would greet each other with a hug and a kiss on a cheek, his hands lingering on your forearms even after you pull away, but the air is thick with tension.

You look at him with those bright, expecting eyes of yours, and Ewan just wants to cave in and make a sloppy confession. But not after that voicemail, no. He's determined to do this right. Words not slurred, head clear.

"So I got your voicemail," you finally say, smiling coyly. "That was... something."

"Hmm," he can't help but mirror your smile, as always. "It was, wasn't it?"

"I understand," you continue, taking a step closer, "if you were drunk. We all say things when we're off it that we maybe don't mean - "

"But darling, I meant every word," he says, way too quickly.

You laugh, the sound of it erasing whatever apprehension remained in him. "Do you even remember what you said?"

"I do," he counters, moving even closer to you. Another step and he'd be able to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. "At least, some of - no - most of it."

"Oh yeah?" you ask cheekily, aided by the effect of gin. He still has your heart racing, but a part of you now knows that the feeling is mutual. "What did you say again?"

He sees that glint in your eye, and it causes him to smirk. "Why don't I make it simple for you, darling?" He closes the distance, one hand brushing the hair from your face.

"Okay," you swallow, getting lost in his blues.

"I missed you." He kisses your cheek. "I like you. A lot." He kisses the other. "And I, uh, I would like to take you on a date."

His eyes meet yours. His voice is steady, but you notice some nervousness in his gaze. How the tables have turned. You make Ewan Mitchell's heart go awry.

"Please, darling?" he timidly adds, the sentiment so sweet you want to blurt out yes immediately. Before you can, he's already leaned back, an explanation rushing out of his lips, "And... I'm not sure but you must have seen those headlines? They're not true, I swear. We were out drinking and - "

"I know, Ewan." You cut him off with a hand pressed gently on his chest but he keeps going.

" - some other people joined us. One of them being - "

"Luke and Elliott's cousin. I know. Elliott called and told me everything."

"Oh. He called you?" A huge sense of relief washes over him, better than any comfort he might have found in a shot or three of bourbon.

"Mhmm, he called me yesterday. So, you know, you didn't really have to fly out. I was about to call you eventually."

He smiles bashfully, eyes cast down as a blush spreads across his cheeks. Damn it, Elliott, you brilliant lad. He reminds himself to treat Elliott to a pint the next time he sees him.

"I still wanted to see you," Ewan maintains, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you're immediately enveloped by the familiar comfort of his scent. Surprisingly without the staple hint of cigarette smoke, due to his frantic scrubbing after the flight.

"I'm happy you're here," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest. "And no offence to Louise or anything, but she needs to learn some boundaries with my - "

Ewan looks down at you fondly, squeezing your arms to prompt your next words, "Yeah, darling? Your what?"

"My - " you attempt to bury your face in his hoodie, but he keeps your gaze with a hand cupping your jaw. So you end up saving yourself with " - my Aemond."

"Hmm," he hums, lips curling, and it's so very Aemond of him it makes you feel warm all over. "Your Aemond.Your Ewan. I'm all yours, love."

The whole thing couldn't have gone any better, all things considered, and Ewan feels content to have gotten over his first brush with the rumour mill. What matters is right in front of him, and you know the truth.

"Are you staying in this hotel? How did you even know I was here?" You take his hand, guiding him over to the couch.

"Clara," is all Ewan says by way of explanation.

"Well, thank you, Clara," you declare. Ewan shuffles closer to you and rests his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your forehead again. The gesture is already becoming instinctive, providing the both of you with a sense of ease.

"Darling?"

"Yeah?" you respond absentmindedly, fingers toying with the soft fabric of his hoodie.

"Is that a yes?"

You exhale deeply. As if it wasn't clear enough already. "What do you think, handsome?"

"I don't know, angel. You tell me," he counters cheekily, his fingers playing with your hair as you playfully glare at him.

"What if I say no, baby?"

"Then I'll have to work hard to change your mind, princess."

"And how would you do that, honey?"

His gaze darkens, and something flashes across his blue eyes as he whispers intensely, "Use your imagination, bunny."

"Ri-right," you bite your lip, then shake your head to snap out of it. "We'll have to draw the line at bunny."

He laughs at your flustered state, pleased by the effect he has on you. "What's wrong with bunny?"

That elicits a groan out of you, but you smile anyway. "I already said yes, Ewan. Quit it with the bunny."

"Alright, beautiful," he relents, making you lean even closer against him.

The haze of gin after a long work day starts to subside and the rush of emotion is coming back to you. You find yourself gazing at Ewan in mild disbelief, in awe that he just confessed that he wants you.

Feeling antsy, you stand and pace around the room. You start tidying things, putting your scattered knick-knacks back in your handbag. If you sit with him any longer, you just might end up hurrying things through and jump his bones already, kiss him the next time he does that hmm.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask.

"No," he says smoothly. "I just need you." The words make you stop in your tracks. He still sits in the same position, looking at you with that undeniable desire in his eyes.

"Uhhhm," your mouth feels dry all of the sudden. Nothing his tongue past your lips can't fix, your intrusive thoughts barge right in. "So... the... the media rollout's still going on isn't it? Should we check and see?" You take your laptop and plop back down next to him. He doesn't miss a beat and cuddles against you once more, wrapping his arm around your tense frame.

"I think so, darling." The media rollout is how the interviews and promotional material filmed by the cast is being released gradually, on a weekly basis, after each new episode comes out.

A simple search on Youtube confirms it, and the first thing that popped up is the Where is The Lie? video you did for Elle.

It was slated for just Tom, Phia, and Ewan but your Blackwood character became such a fan-favourite that they asked you to join in. Not to mention the frenzy you and Ewan caused online with the initial interviews you did together.

"Shall we watch this?" Ewan offers, solely for the intent of seeing you in the video.

You click on it, and for the next 8 minutes or so, all you can take note of are the signs that had clearly already been there. The fans were on to something when they claimed that you and Ewan are a really good ship.

The video starts with a clip of Phia hitting her head on the overhead lamp when she stands, prompting her to uncontrollably giggle along with you and Tom. Ewan, being the exception, is beside himself with worry, and he appears to instinctively reach for your hand as you sit beside him.

"Huh," Ewan smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Tom is the first to be put on the hot seat, and he slowly recites the three statements he prepared. "Ewan, pay attention," Tom blurts out when he notices that Ewan kept sneaking glances at you. "Sure, I'm locked in," Ewan says right back, as you and Phia share a look.

"What were you looking at?" you ask playfully, poking him in the side. "You seem plenty distracted there."

He snorts at himself in the video, when he ends up smiling as he caught your eye. "It was your fault. You were distracting me."

"I was not!" you exclaim. "I thought you were just being competitive then."

Phia is next to have a go. She tells you of a Wifi repellent necklace, a wrestling career, and saving a squirrel from a drainpipe. "The Wifi thing sounds like something Ewan would have," Tom jokes. "Oh sure," you concur, "except that he'd actually keep it so he can watch films." Ewan smiles at your acute observation.

"I'd also keep it to stalk your Instagram," Ewan mumbles from beside you. "And you know, just stalk you in general."

"I'm sure you do, Mitchell," you respond casually, but your face warms up anyhow.

It's Ewan's turn, and as he sits on the hot seat, you see Tom and Phia casting a look at each other then at the two of you, a secret message shared between them. "I bet she will know the answer right away," Phia says. "Yeah, how do we know the two of you didn't conspire together?" Tom asks. "Are you kidding me, you guys?" you laugh at them, thinking how silly they were being, not knowing then that they were definitely on to something.

"Darling, you have to know this," Ewan tells you specifically as you all try to guess the answer. "Oh, darling!" Tom mouths to Phia, dramatically flipping nonexistent long hair over his shoulder. Phia laughs at his antics, before nudging you and saying, "Which one is it? Which is the lie? I trust you." You respond, "Why me? You two should know this too!"

"Because I wasn't trying to date them, my love," Ewan says, smiling at the screen.

"Oh, come on now." You crane your neck up to press a soft kiss against his cheek before turning your attention back to the video. So you don't notice the switch in Ewan's breathing. The jumps in his heartbeart. The way he subtly clears his throat to deal with his flustered state.

The video comes to a close after your turn and even at the very end, Ewan can be seen admiring you as you give the closing remarks with Phia.

Admiring you, as he does in the moment.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he says, when you turn to look at him.

"Thank you," you reply softly, your voice barely audible.

Some time passes with the two of you catching up, talking about your upcoming projects, his big meeting in New York - all the while his fingers trace patterns on your exposed skin, his arm wrapped around you snugly.

"Have you been keeping up with the show?" he asks.

"The last episode I saw fully was... the second one? I got pretty busy after that. How about you?"

"Oh," he looks down in thought, piquing your curiosity, "so you didn't get to see the third episode yet then?"

"No, not yet," you shake your head, "but I've seen some stuff here and there."

He hums again and he wants to ask, have you seen his stuff? There are around a dozen or so potential jokes at play here. He has an inkling to tell you to watch the episode so you can see just what you're in for. So you can see him and all he has to offer. He'd also fumble through a justification, as he had done in some interview, about the new studio they had filmed in being cold as a fridge freezer.

What to say? What to say? He picks at some lint on his jeans, smirking to himself.

"Yeah," you eventually giggle at his obvious hesitation. "I've only seen some of the episode. But what I've seen... is enough to make me jealous of Madame Sylvie."

He stiffens, throat suddenly dry, but one look at your smile does away with his concerns.

He soon finds himself laughing, a muffled, "Oh, darling," whispered lovingly against your hair.

"That was very brave of you, Ewan," you express sincerely.

"Thank you, love."

"So... just how cold was it in there?"

Your shared, unrestrained laughter echo throughout the room.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Your first date was meant to happen the following night, but such is the nature of the job that Ewan's schedule gets moved up all of a sudden.

Once the bigshot casting director in New York found out that Ewan is already stateside, he requested that the meeting be held at the earliest possible opportunity.

He calls you while you are in rehearsals, profusely apologizing and promising to fly back to LA in the next two days, right after his meeting is all sorted.

"It's okay, Ewan," you reassure him, genuinely understanding. "I will see you when you come back. Good luck, I know you're going to smash it, whatever opportunity this is!"

"Thank you, darling," he says, already wanting to have you back in his arms already, mentally kicking himself for not kissing you when he had about a hundred chances to do so. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you respond, blushing silly with the phone pressed to your ear. "But it'll only be two days."

"Hmm, doesn't matter. I need to take you on our bloody date, darling. I've already taken so damn long."

"Don't worry," you say, "I've already seen you way more than I should before the first date."

"Wha - " a protest forms on his lips, but he gets your point right away. "Oh. Clever, darling."

"I know."

"But I'm planning to give you something that's just for you. That the whole world won't ever be privy to."

You swallow hard, your very being heating up at his insinuation. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mitchell."

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Bonus chapter!

Nocturnal file 🤫

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The cast's Where is The Lie? video is an actual thing! I hope yous got the reference!

Notice how the two nerve-wrecked shites didn't have their first proper kiss yet??? Will they ever?? 😩😩😩

Taglist is officially closed for this one. Please bookmark this series or the masterlist (or follow my page) to keep up with updates <3

I can't even overstate how mad all the love for this series has been! I'm always looking forward to hearing from you guys - suggestions, comments, complaints are always welcome!

See you in part five! (preview: something will happen in NY that might cause Ewan to question things!)

[theetherealbloom]

WHERE DO WE GO NOW? - CH. 1 | 14th Doctor

Chapter One: After All Of The Time, And Give An Actual Try

Summary: An enigmatic old face makes a reappearance, heralding unforeseen events. A mysterious spaceship plummets to Earth, bringing chaos and prompting the Doctor's intervention. Amidst the unfolding narrative, a cute and endearing creature seeks assistance, weaving together elements of mystery, adventure, and companionship.

Pairing: 14th Doctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt-to-Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Possible Plot Holes, Vague Background, Aliens, Mild Horror, Violence, Past Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Timey-Wimey Stuff, Star-Crossed Lovers, Second Chance 

Word Count: 12.2k

A/N: Surprise! I love Doctor Who too. I’m a huge nerd, I know tehe. I hope you enjoy this mini-series I have planned for the 14th Doctor! As we know, he is played by the beloved David Tennant who is one of my favorite Doctors ever.

Song: Where do we go now? By Gracie Abrams

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MILLSON WAGNER STEELWORKS, NORTH LONDON – EVENING, DECEMBER 2023

A UNIT team was promptly dispatched as the spaceship breached Earth's atmosphere, making its way North of London. Both serving as scientific advisors, you and Shirley were on-site where the ship had landed.

While some military personnel were busy extinguishing the flames from the spacecraft and securing the perimeter, preventing you from delving further into the investigation, you found yourself engrossed in studying the ship's scans displayed on the monitor in your hands, attempting to unravel the mystery.

"Miss them, do you?" A voice called out from behind.

You averted your gaze from the tablet, turning to find Shirley maneuvering her wheelchair next to you. Curious, you asked, "What? Who?"

The redhead sported a cheeky smile. "The Doctor, of course."

It was widely known that you had journeyed alongside the Doctor and his myriad companions. Images of their faces flashed in your mind as you reminisced about those exciting adventures. Rose, Donna, the Ponds, Clara... you longed for them. There was a noticeable absence of the Doctor that left a gaping black hole in your chest.

You shook your head, muttering to yourself, "Can't let the Doctor catch a glimpse of me again; the entire universe might just fold in on itself once more. Already me being here is a problem since there’s a possibility he could pop out at any moment. I’m only on duty since I owe Kate a favor."

Shirley hums and responds, "I've read the files, you know. You two were quite the team. Everything that had happened… was in the wrong place at the right time. Still, it could happen, the two of you… together."

You raise your eyebrows at her and offer a small smile while shaking your head, scoffing, "The Doctor was unaware before, and I won't be the catalyst for another cosmic meltdown due to my selfish reasons. Besides... the Doctor doesn’t know I’m still alive and UNIT is already on my arse for even existing on this timeline.”

The redhead emits a sympathetic murmur and pats the side of your thigh, "Wasn't your fault, love. A colossal tear in time and space that dragged you in here... sounds like fate, or destiny even. If anything, maybe it was supposed to happen... like you and—"

The tablet beeps, abruptly halting Shirley's train of thought. You glance at the monitor, furrowing your brow, then hand over the device to her, saying, "You need to see this. I believe there's more to this than we initially thought."

“Now I think we’re making a fundamental mistake. ‘Cause maybe that spaceship was a collision course to start with, but look.” Shirley says while the UNIT soldier looks at the tablet, “At the last minute, it pulls up, then settles. What I’m sayin’ is, that ship didn’t crash. It parked.”

As Shirley presents her observations to the UNIT soldier, you can't help but notice the intensity in her gaze, the lines of concentration etched across her forehead. The soldier queries, "No signs of life?" You step forward, interjecting, "Not yet. But we don't know what kind of life we're looking for."

Suddenly, an unexplained shiver races up your spine, goosebumps breaking out on your skin. A palpable sense of familiarity and the eerie feeling of being observed by someone you know too well. Your expression shifts into a frown, and Shirley catches on, concern knitting her brows. "What? What's wrong?" she asks.

You open your mouth but hesitate, exchanging glances with Shirley and the UNIT soldier. Shirley, sensing the urgency, instructs the soldier to step aside. Both of you retreat to a secluded corner, where she probes, "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost, dear."

You exhale shakily, "I... I think he's here. He's back."

Shirley blinks, seeking clarification, "You mean..."

"The Doctor. The Doctor, he’s here."

"Shirley, I need to leave, immediately," you declare, attempting to stride away with urgency.

"Wait, hang on a second," Shirley interjects, gripping your wrist and compelling you to halt. "He's already seen you, yeah? Looks like nothing bad has happened and—"

"Nothing bad has happened yet, Shirley. The stars could go out; millions of galactic species could die if we so much as breathe in each other's direction. I can't risk it. I won't."

Tears well up, and Shirley guides you to a stop near one of the staircases, settling herself in her wheelchair. As you take a seat, you rub both hands over your face, wiping away the tears. "I should have died that day."

Shirley remains silent, allowing you to continue as you shakily sob, "I should have died. But I didn't, and I'm still here."

"I lied to him, Shirley. I lied. He... he might never forgive me for it," you confess brokenly. Shirley shrugs, offering, "You won't know unless you talk. And it seems to me that whatever was keepin’ you apart before… is tellin’ you two maybe now is the right place at the right time."

Deep in contemplation of your choices, someone suddenly seizes your wrist, muffling your voice as they pull you close, your body pressed against a comforting warmth.

"Hey, it's me. It's the Doctor," he reassures, and you instinctively push away, allowing some distance between you two. Both of you stand there panting, but he breaks the silence first, shouting, "I thought you were dead!"

Throwing the words back at him, you retort, "I was supposed to be dead!"

"Why aren't you dead?" he demands, and frustration laces your high-pitched response, "Are you bloody serious in asking me that?”

 “No. Yes! Argh, I don't know!"

Shaking your head and taking a step back, you declare, "I need to leave."

The Doctor firmly grabs your wrist, halting your escape. "No. Not again."

With determination, you wrench your wrist from his strong hold, shouting, "The universe could collapse! Again! We weren't ever supposed to meet. It was a mistake."

Wide-eyed, the Doctor gazes at you and replies in a breathy tone, "Is that really what you think?"

Paused, unable to respond, you hear his voice in your head, a telepathic whisper so familiar. "You and I both know, that it wasn't a mistake."

Glaring at him, you muster as much resistance as possible, but those big dark brown eyes make it challenging. "That's not fair. Get out of my head," you retort with furrowed brows.

The Doctor whispers your name, barely audible, causing you to flinch and look away. Instead of acknowledging his presence, you pivot to a question, "You regenerated… But why this face? Why are you back?"

"Why do you ask? You don't like this one?" he retorts.

Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes, "With you, there's always a reason for everything."

The Doctor admits, "Must be why the TARDIS brought me to you and Donna."

You regard him with a concerned gaze and tone, "What? You saw Donna, did she recognize or remember you?"

"The fail-safe worked; she just commented about my clothes. She has a daughter named Rose," the Doctor hums, kicking a small piece of gravel on the floor. You nod, "Yeah, I keep tabs on 'em. Making sure they're alright. Even though Donna gave all that money away to charity."

"Do you know why she did it?" The Doctor asks.

"I don't. But I have a couple of guesses," you reply with a close-lipped smile and a shrug. The Doctor brings his gaze to you, and you can already feel the question before he says it.

"I thought you were dead, for fifteen years."

You scoff, "Oh, that's nothing for you, Time Lord and all."

The Doctor throws his hands up in frustration, "Oh, don't do that."

"Do what?" you demand.

"Pretend that it was nothing for me! You were everything to me," the Doctor says, taking another step closer, and you take a step back this time. You look at him with narrowed eyes, and in a low tone, you say, "You and I both know that's not true."

"What happened? Where did you go?"

"You and I both know what happened after Arcadia. I was ready to die. I thought I had served my purpose, what I was made for. I got shot midway through the regeneration process, and I felt it. I felt myself slipping away... I could only see the two suns, and then when I closed my eyes, there was this surge of energy... I couldn't explain it back then, and I can't now. But it was like someone had given me their regeneration energy... but when I looked around, no one was there, and I was no longer on Gallifrey."

The Doctor finishes the sentence for you, "You were brought to Earth."

You nod, "I still have no idea who did it. But now, I can't leave. And all those years, my memories were locked away in that old pocket watch until I met you... and then the stars started to go out once more, and I knew I had no choice… I couldn't stay with you."

"All those years... you were alone, just like me," the Doctor says, and you look away before sitting atop one of the crates by the pillar, sighing, "I need to leave again... planets could disappear and galaxies could collapse at any second, and we'd be back where we started."

The Doctor remains silent as you close your eyes, resting your head on one of the stacked crates behind you. You yearn for him. Every atom in your being longs for his presence, yet every angle you examine seems to present an unsolvable puzzle. Thus, you convince yourself that distancing is the best course for everyone involved. How does one repay a sacrifice of such magnitude?

Then, you detect his approaching footsteps, and he settles comfortably beside you, shoulders brushing as he leans in. "Or... we could finally figure out a way to solve the paradox."

Opening your eyes, you shoot him a pointed look. "Doctor, we're in the middle of yet another crisis. A spaceship just landed, and we have no bloody clue who the hell we're dealing with right now. And you want to solve the impossible with our situation?"

"Who says I can't multitask?" he retorts, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. You lightly smack him on the arm, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. Memories of the carefree early days flash through your mind, recalling lingering gazes and soft touches exchanged. Licking your lips nervously, you release a heavy breath, "One problem at a time. We have another alien on the loose."

The Doctor takes that as a win, a calculated risk, with the universe as a potential consequence. He's never demanded anything, and for the first time, he yearns for something for himself. He envisions it — hope — the prospect of finally rewriting the ending you both desperately desire.

The sonic clicks and buzzes as the Doctor conjures a holographic screen, displaying the schematics of the spacecraft that recently landed nearby. He retrieves his glasses from his coat pocket, donning them as he peruses the screen. Pressing a few buttons, he zooms in on the bottom part of the ship before highlighting the drive.

Frowning, your eyes narrow as an unsettling weight settles at the pit of your stomach while reading what's on the screen.

"Too good for us now?" Shirley remarks as she rolls up in her wheelchair. The Doctor briefly glances at her, nodding, and casually greets, "Evening."

Shirley smiles knowingly as she looks between the two of you. "Doctor. I see you and my colleague have talked. Has galaxies and universes collapsed yet?"

The Doctor hums, "Mmmm, not yet. Soon maybe, if I could get her to kiss me."

You smack him on the shoulder a little harder this time, and he yelps out, "Ow!" Making a face at him, you retort, "Oh, sod off!"

The Doctor gives you a cheeky smile while Shirley chuckles next to you. She then looks at the holographic screen on display, and the Doctor brings his focus back to the problem at hand, saying, "That’s a double-bladed dagger drive, damaged by laser fire which means we’ve got two sets of visitors at war with each other."

He glances at Shirley politely, "Nice to meet you. Did you get the heat readings on deceleration?" Shirley chuckles and clicks her tongue, "Oh, I got everything." She unfolds her tablet to give to the Doctor, who presses a button on his sonic screwdriver to close the holographic screen. Taking the tablet, he begins to analyze the readings as your colleague introduces herself, "Shirley Anne Bingham, UNIT Scientific Advisor number 56."

The Doctor sounds delighted, saying, "Oh! I was Scientific Advisor number one."

Shirley smiles, "No, I know. I’ve read the files. I’m gonna get a bonus just for meeting you."

The Doctor makes a face, not used to humble praise. "Oh."

Shirley then asks, "But why are you hiding away? We’re on the same side and it can’t be ‘cause of her now." She looks at you, and you also turn your attention to the Doctor.

He slightly groans and inhales sharply before replying, "It’s all a bit mad, Shirley. I don’t know who I am anymore."

Shirley crosses her legs in the wheelchair and says matter-of-factly, "Well, you look like the Doctor to me."

The Doctor shrugs, "Well, exactly. The one in the skinny suit. After that, I wear a bow tie. After that, I’m a Scotsman. After that, I’m a woman."

Shirley frowns, "But that’s your future. You can’t know that. It’s forbidden."

The Doctor replies, "I regenerated. And she became me."

Both of Shirley’s eyebrows rise, and her eyes widen as she says, "You got your old face back?"

The Doctor replies with a resounding pop, "Yep."

"But why?" Shirley asks, and the Doctor sighs, "Well, that’s what I’m worried about."

He then inhales deeply before continuing, “Because, besides this lovely stubborn woman right next to me,” you pinch the bridge of your nose briefly as he continues, “I've got this friend called Donna Noble. She was my best friend in the whole wide universe. I absolutely love her as much as I love this one right here.” The Doctor pulls a face and pouts, puffing out a breath as his thick eyebrows furrow, he says, “Oh. Hmm. Do I say things like that now?”

Shirley smiles at him while commenting, “Sounds like a good thing to say.”

You mumble, “I’m not used to this.”

“But Donna took the mind of a Time Lord into her head. I had to wipe her memory to save her life. If she ever remembers me she will die. So what happens next?” The Doctor said with emphasis and leaned closer to you and Shirley, “I get this face back, and the TARDIS lands right next to her. I turn around, there’s her husband. A spaceship crashes in front of her. That led me here to my other best friend in the whole wide universe, my Time Lady who I thought was dead for many years. It’s like she’s drawing us in.” The Doctor finishes, and you and Shirley give each other a look, processing everything he has just said. Especially you, who was processing the fact he called you his. You and Shirley blinked a few times before Shirley said, “What? She’s making it happen?”

The Doctor shakes his head, “No, she’s got no idea. She’s so ordinary. She’s brilliant. She’s got this beautiful daughter. She’s happy. Is she? Hmm.” He pauses before saying in a lower tone, “But the universe is turning around the two people I love the most again. I don’t believe in destiny, but if destiny exists, then it's heading straight for Donna Noble and quite possibly the love of my life right next to me.”

You blink in surprise, opening your mouth to try and say something, maybe correct him, but nothing comes out, so you sit there, mouth gaping next to him like a fish while Shirley has a toothy grin as you say to the Doctor, “Okay, I’m still not used to whatever this is… and I don’t think I ever will be. You’re kind of freaking me out a little, dear.”

The Doctor grins, “Ooh, are we doing pet names now darling?”

You rub your right eye, feeling a migraine beginning to form, “I… What the hell is happening? You sure you’re alright? Last time you regenerated into this form you had a high fever and you were… completely out of it.”

The Doctor scrunches his nose and sniffs, “I feel great. Fantastic even!”

You purse your lips, observing the Doctor from head to toe, and then focus on his eyes—those warm, inviting brown eyes. Softly, you remark, “You've grown.”

The Doctor returns your gaze, his lips forming a quirked-up smile that reveals a dimple. "Just a little bit, yeah."

Shirley interjects, steering the conversation back on course, “You said it was also heading for Donna. What for?”

The Doctor responds with a swift, “I don’t know.” Shirley replies with an, “Oh.” The Doctor continues, with deep emphasis, “But she can’t remember. I won’t be the one who kills her.”

Shirley nods, and the tablet in the Doctor’s hands beeps. He looks at it, saying, “Right. There’s no sign of a pilot, but that’s not an automatic drive, so you should look for–”

“Ma’am,” a soldier interrupts, cutting off the Doctor. He slinks back into the shadows, and you and Shirley listen to what the soldier has to say. “We found the escape pod. No sign of life, but we’re moving out to secure the site.”

Shirley quickly replies, “Good work, soldier. Go get it.” Dismissing the soldier and watching her walk away, the Doctor moves to stand, removing his glasses and putting them away, ready to follow the soldier. But Shirley raises her hand and says to him, “Uh, yeah, yeah. Not you two, mate. I’ve got this. Off you pop. Bye-bye.”

Shirley begins to roll her wheelchair away, leaving the Doctor and you confused. The Doctor then calls out to her, “Waited your whole life?”

To which Shirley throws a look over her shoulder as she responds with a smirk, “You wish.”

The Doctor looks at you, and you look up at him. He turns his hand, palm up, waiting for you to take it with your hand. You glance at his hand and back to his eyes; he sees the uncertainty swirling through your gaze.

The Doctor speaks gently, “I know you aren’t ready and you’re scared… but I know you’re brave. And the universe listens to the brave. C’mon, it’s time to be brave again.”

You release a shaky exhale, swallowing the lump in your throat and dismissing the rational urge to walk away from him. Taking his hand, he tugs you along, pushing his legs into a run with you, hand-in-hand.

He thrusts the exit door open, utilizing his sonic screwdriver with his other hand on the back of the UNIT truck, the chains rattling as the trunk hatch pops open, pulling you with him to settle at the back of the truck.

As the UNIT truck pulls away, you see Shirley waving you off, and the Doctor gives her a small salute while you offer her a faint smile.

CHISWICK, LONDON – EVENING, 2023

You constantly poked your head out to see the stars, in case anything had changed. The Doctor held your hand, squeezing it every time you did, quietly reassuring you that whatever you faced, you'd do it together.

Arriving in the residential area, a long street lined with cars and now multiple UNIT trucks and soldiers running around, you could hear Donna shouting, “Oh, what the hell is it doing in my shed? Get out of my garden!”

The Doctor ran towards the sound of her voice, and you followed him. Reaching Donna's home, the Doctor pounded on the door, “Let us in! Let us in!”

Sylvia glared at the Doctor as she briskly walked towards him, but he exclaimed happily, “Sylvia! Oh, Sylvia! So nice to see you again. Could you let us in?”

Sylvia angrily whispered, “You said that if she sees you again, she will die. Well, no. If – if she remembers me. That’s slightly different.”

You heard and saw Donna through the stained glass yelling from down the hall, “No such thing as spaceships? We’ve got a bloody Martian in the shed!”

Sylvia angrily said, “Just get out of here, now.” But the Doctor knelt down to peek through the mail slot to see all the commotion, finding a small white fluffy creature with big eyes. “Oh, wow. He’s so cute,” the Doctor mumbled. With no other choice, he used his sonic to unlock the door as Sylvia told Donna, “Don’t look! Don’t look. It doesn’t exist.”

As the Doctor walked down the hall, with you trailing behind him, Sylvia whirled around to slap the Doctor. He grunted and groaned, “Here we go again.”

“It’s that man!” You recognized Rose say as Donna pointed at the Doctor, “Oh, it’s the skinny man!”

Sylvia continued to try and gaslight Donna, outstretching both her arms to block both of you, “He’s not there! You can’t see him. And there’s no monster. Oh, for the love of God, none of this is real!”

You and the Doctor ducked down and crawled to the creature to help assist them. In the middle of all the shouting and noise, you saw Shaun Temple appear, saying, “Hey, hey. Dad’s home.”

Everyone stood at a standstill, wide-eyed and unsure of what to do next. After a pause, Shaun commented with a small smile, “Something smells nice.” Sylvia smiled, “Tuna madras.”

“Meep, meep.”

As you and the Doctor sat on the floor, he carefully wrapped Meep’s injury in his hands with medical tape, while you quickly assessed if the Meep had any more injuries. Sylvia spoke to Donna, “We should think about infection. I mean, I think this man should deal with this beast, and we can leave him alone and go back to mine.”

Donna pulled her arm away from Sylvia and gestured around the Meep, “Never mind. Never mind about the ferret from Mars.” She gave you and the Doctor a pointed look as she growled out, “Who the hell are you two?”

You looked to the Doctor for help, and he stumbled over his words, “I– um. What was it?” He looked to Shaun who replied, “A friend from Nerys.” To which the Doctor promptly agreed, “That’s it.”

Donna scrunches her nose and says, “Nerys. Well, now it all makes sense. That viper in the nest.” She continues and points to the Meep, “I’m not going anywhere. We could sell mad Paddington for a million quid.”

Everyone reacted, giving Donna a pointed look and a noise of disagreement, “Woah!” Donna tried to justify her comment by saying, “You fill the fridge!”

The Doctor’s expressive eyebrows furrowed, and he asked Donna, “What did happen to all your money?” Donna got defensive and threw back, “Why are you so interested in us? Everywhere you go, there you are. Now you got this woman with you,” She gestured to you, “are you sure you’re safe with him, darling? Is he forcing you to be with him? Did he kidnap you?!”

You blinked wildly at Donna, “Uh, no– I’m good. He’s my partner.”

The Doctor smirked at you, “Ooh, I’m your partner?” To which you narrowed your eyes at him, “Quiet, you.” He pouted but continued to finish wrapping the injury of the Meep, then the Doctor said, “There is one person missing. I used to know your grandad, Wilf.”

Donna shook her head, “He’s not with us anymore.”

The Doctor had a somber expression as he nodded, “Right. Course. He wasn’t young; he was—” His lower lip trembled as he admitted, “I loved that man. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Donna shook her head, emphasizing, “He’s not dead.” Sylvia shot the Doctor a sharp look, “You idiot.”

The Doctor gaped at them, and Donna continued to share, “He’s in sheltered accommodation. He’s 94. He can’t manage the stairs.” Shaun took over, saying, “We were lucky. We couldn’t afford it, but this offer came along.”

Rose smiled, painting a vivid picture, “It’s amazing. He’s got this room, like a cottage and a garden, and it’s almost free.”

“Run by that lot in the middle of town? UNIT? This woman in charge, Kate, she says he’s an old soldier, she’ll look after him.” Shaun said, and the Doctor's face lit up, “Right. I know her. She’s looking after Wilf. Brilliant. Brilliant.”

Shaun tilted his head as he looked at you, “You look very familiar… Weren’t you with Kate as you were helping with the accommodations for Wilf?”

Your lips pinched together as you nodded, “Yeah, I work with UNIT. I check on him regularly; he’s wonderful.”

“Meep, meep.”

You and the Doctor turned to the fluffy white creature in front of you, and the Doctor’s eyebrows raised as he inhaled sharply, “Yes! The Meep. I promise I can help him get home. Then you’ll never have to see me, or well, the both of us ever again.”

Rose looked at the Doctor and gave him a questioning look, “You’re assuming he as a pronoun? Hmm.”

The Doctor took it in stride and nodded, “True. Yes. Sorry. Good point.” He quickly turned to the creature and asked, “Are you he, or she, or they?”

The high-pitched voice of the Meep responded, “My chosen pronoun is the definite article. I am always the Meep.”

The Doctor’s expression shifted to one of understanding as his thick eyebrows raised and he nodded, “Oh. I do that. But you were shot down. Who wants you dead?”

You tilt your head, captivated by the Meep's explanation, “The Wrath Warriors. They cultivate Meepkind for our beautiful fur. But then the galaxy said, ‘No more fur. It’s wrong. So the Wrath Warriors slaughtered their livestock.”

The Doctor crosses his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face, and leisurely leans back on the couch, letting his back rest against it, “You’re a fashion victim.”

A collective groan escapes from all the humans in the room, “No.”

The Doctor quickly mumbles an apology, and the Meep continues, “Now, they will hunt me down till there are no Meeps left.” The Meep sniffs, “It breaks both my hearts.”

You and the Doctor exchange surprised glances, both of your eyebrows raised. The Doctor shares with the Meep as he gestures to both of you, “You got two hearts? So do we.”

Donna quickly catches onto the Doctor's revelation and frowns, “You’ve got what?”

Sylvia tries to downplay what the Doctor just exposed, stammering as she speaks to Donna, “No. He means it like a metaphor. Like two minds. Do you?” You and the Doctor shake your heads, but suddenly there’s a pounding at the door.

“Open up!”

“Well, what the hell is it now?” Donna exclaims, her frustration evident as she wonders why all these strange anomalies keep happening. The Doctor pushes himself up, and you assist him with his navy blue coat as he puts it on. He continues addressing everyone in the room, “Ah, good. The soldiers! They can give us a lift.”

As he goes to answer the door, leaving you with the Meep and Donna’s family, Rose can't help but ask, “Are you two…”

Your cheeks feel flush, the tips of your ears turning warm, “Yep.”

Just as Donna is about to make a cheeky comment, you hear the Doctor slam the front door shut, loudly informing you all, “I think we need to run. Woah!”

Suddenly, an explosion rocks the backdoor, causing everyone to hit the ground with a collective yelp. You and the Doctor peek to look at the new visitor; arthropods, with a tough chitinous exoskeleton. With their external skeleton acting as a skelo-shield they had formidable strength. Their eyes were like large red lights. Seeing the Wrath Warriors enter while saying, “Wrath, attack formation! Surrender the Meep!”

UNIT soldiers burst in from the main entrance, their voices echoing down the hallway as they shout instructions to each other. The distant hum of gunfire and the vivid flashes of lasers light up the space, creating a chaotic symphony that fills your senses.

Donna, caught in the middle of the sudden onslaught, shouts in confusion and frustration, “What the hell is going on?”

The Doctor deftly manipulates his sonic screwdriver, adjusting its settings. He turns to Shaun and inquires, “Where’s your car?”

Shaun, bewildered but cooperative, responds, “Uh, five- five doors down.”

“Excellent.” The Doctor nods. He pivots, activating the sonic screwdriver to generate large, rectangular force fields. The blue glow emanating from the force fields reveals a recent upgrade, and you can't help but smile, commenting, “Nice upgrade, love.”

“Thanks, dearest. Help me move this, won’t you?” The Doctor passes the sonic to Donna, who handles it with familiarity. You and the Doctor work together to slide the force field into the first section of the hallway, dodging blaster shots as you go. Once in the living room again, you take the sonic from Donna, creating your force field with the Doctor’s scientific instrument. The Doctor observes you with admiration, and together, you slide the final force field into place, sealing off the area where the Wrath Warriors were firing from.

Immediately, the Doctor issues a commanding directive to the Noble-Temple family and the Meep, “Upstairs! Up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up!” They follow the urgent order, shrieking as they ascend the stairs, sandwiched between the force fields that shield them from the relentless onslaught of gunshots and laser fire.

“Come on, Meep!” The Doctor encourages, executing an energetic dance of hopping and flailing arms. The Meep responds with a whimper, “No.” Undeterred, you and the Doctor persist, the Doctor continuing his lively hopping routine, insisting, “Come on! That’s it.”

You guide the Meep up the stairs, the Doctor closely behind. A reassuring hand rests on your back as the trio ascends. When you're halfway across the corridor, a deafening explosion erupts from behind. The Noble-Temple family screams in fear, and you're thrown to the ground. However, the Doctor reacts swiftly, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to break your fall. In a protective move, he cushions the impact with his body, leaving you on top of him.

You swiftly roll off him, your palms hitting the floor as you propel yourself upward. Grasping the Doctor's hand, you haul him to his feet, both of you swiftly turning around to confront the aftermath—a colossal, gaping hole now occupying the space where a window once stood. Donna's cry of agony echoes through the room, "My house!"

Despite the devastation, there's no time for dwelling. The Doctor urgently directs everyone, gesticulating emphatically, "Upstairs. Upstairs, upstairs!"

Observing the Wrath Warriors soaring menacingly through the breached window, and amidst the symphony of gunfire and laser blasts echoing from the stairs, you and the Doctor deftly ascend to the third floor. With a swift motion, he lowers the ladder leading to the attic, urgently urging everyone, "Up we go! Fast as you can."

The entire group efficiently ascends to the attic. Positioned beside a robust brick wall connecting attics along the street, you and the Doctor huddle close. The Doctor showcases the device in his hand, proclaiming, "This is a sonic screwdriver. And if it's good at one thing, it's resonating concrete." He flips it in one hand before activating it, causing vibrations to ripple through the mortar.

Shaun interjects, "That's not concrete. That's mortar." Donna, in her familiarly exasperated tone, sighs and quips, "Thank you, Bob the Builder."

With a determined push, you and the Doctor dislodge the bricks, prompting them to cascade down. Donna crouches beside the Doctor, complimenting, "Skinny minnie, you're not bad."

The Doctor grins at Donna, "You think?"

However, Sylvia intervenes, frowning as she guides Donna aside, firmly asserting, "No, she doesn't. Now move."

"Come on. Five houses down," the Doctor grunts, effortlessly moving aside a box brimming with Christmas decorations. He takes the lead, guiding the family through the interconnected attics.

Traversing through these loft spaces, you witness the chaotic scene unfolding outside, with laser beams and gunshots punctuating the air. Explosions resonate in the distance as you navigate the makeshift route, carefully descending a staircase. Along the way, you stealthily pass by someone deeply immersed in sleep on a couch, oblivious to the turmoil around them.

Upon reaching a door, the Doctor jostles it open, revealing a view of the black cab parked a few meters away. Amidst the cacophony of gunfire and distant shouts, the Doctor extends his hand and requests, "Can I have the keys?" Shaun promptly hands them over.

As the Wrath Warriors advance with their menacing backs turned, the Doctor swiftly swings the door open, directing the family and the Meep into the sanctuary of the black cab. Positioned in the passenger seat, you observe the Doctor deftly using his fingers to check the pulse of a fallen UNIT soldier. Abruptly, a Wrath Warrior pivots, growling, "Meep located. Stop the Meep!"

Evading blaster fire with nimble agility, the Doctor slips into the driver's seat, swiftly igniting the engine and propelling the cab into motion. The Meep whimpers, "Help! Save the Meep!"

As the Doctor skillfully navigates away, Donna exclaims, "Oh my God!" Shaun pivots within the cab, jubilantly stating, "You did it!" Meanwhile, Rose chimes in, "We're alive," and Sylvia expresses gratitude, "Thank you."

"Meep, meep."

While the Doctor keeps a vigilant eye on the side mirrors during the escape, there's a discernible shift in his tone, "Either we've escaped, or we've got things very, very wrong."

UNDERGROUND PARKING GARAGE, LONDON – EVENING, 2023

The Doctor skillfully maneuvers the cab, smoothly parking it in an underground garage. A contemplative furrow graces his forehead as he steps out of the vehicle. With an attentive courtesy, he opens the passenger door, gesturing for you to alight from the cab. Simultaneously, he opens the back passenger door, facilitating the exit of the Meep.

The Doctor deftly extracts a barrister's wig from the depths of his coat, perching it atop his head with an air of theatrical flair. Meanwhile, the Meep positions itself purposefully in front of the cab. In a tone of authoritative declaration, the Doctor announces, "This court is now in session."

With a swift motion, he retrieves his trusty sonic screwdriver, and it emits a distinctive whiz as he proclaims, "Intercept teleport!"

The Meep emits a piercing shriek, swiftly retreating a few meters behind you and the Doctor. Donna, emerging from the cab, questions, "What the hell are you doing?" The Doctor, with an authoritative air, responds, "Silence in the court."

In the blink of an eye, two Wrath Warriors materialize just across from you and the Doctor. You stand there, massaging your face with your hand, as he adopts a menacing tone and declares, "I’m invoking Shadow Proclamation protocols 15, P, and 6. Under my jurisdiction, there will be no violence until such time I deem it fit and proper. Is that understood?"

The Wrath Warriors nod in compliance, dutifully stowing away their weapons to their sides. The Doctor, brandishing his sonic, gestures towards the taxi, asserting, “Now, exhibit A. The taxi. No scorch marks. Donna, can you confirm?” Donna swivels around, inspecting the taxi behind her, and nods, “Um. Yes, no, nothing.”

You arch your eyebrows, interjecting, “We were hit by plasma bolts, but there isn’t a mark.” The Doctor affectionately kisses your forehead, remarking, “Clever girl.” You duck your head, feeling a slight warmth in your chest and cheeks. He proceeds, “And that soldier in the street. He was unconscious, not dead.” Pointing at the Wrath Warriors' guns with his sonic screwdriver, he continues, “Exhibit B. Those guns are stun guns. Is that correct?”

The right Wrath Warrior nods, “The guns apply a mild and harmless neural anesthetic. For the record, my name is Sergeant Zogroth.” The left Wrath Warrior adds on and says, “And I am Constable Zreeg.”

The Meep interjects from behind you, its large ears folding to the side, “But the evil Wrath Warriors want to kill the Meep.”

“The only ones out to kill were the soldiers with the swirling eyes,” the Doctor asserts, gesturing in a circular motion with his sonic, his eyes widening to emphasize his point. “Were they coming to hurt you, the Meep? Or save you?” The Doctor eyes the furry creature suspiciously.

“If I may speak,” Sergeant Zogroth says, and the Doctor promptly replies, “Address the court.”

“The story of the Meep is a tragic tale. Their planet basked in the light of a living sun. Until one terrible day, the sun went mad,” Sergeant Zogroth began, his voice laden with the weight of the narrative. Constable Zreeg chimed in, “A psychedelic sun.”

Sergeant Zogroth continued, “Its radiation mutated all of Meepkind into cruel beasts who live for conquest.”

The Doctor's face lights up with realization, "The eyes. That's solar psychedelia." Sergeant Zogroth adds, “It renders them as maniacs.”

“The Meep army captured the Galactic Council, beheaded them, and ate them,” Constable Zreeg revealed, sending shivers down your spine. You and the Doctor exchange a grimace at the horrifying revelation. “The Wrath Warriors were summoned. And we fought across the stars, a long and awful battle,” Sergeant Zogroth continued with a somber tone.

“Meepkind died rather than surrender. And now, only this one survives. Their leader, the most cruel and despicable of all,” he added, pointing to the Meep, who responded with a plaintive, “Meep, meep.”

The Doctor, adopting a composed stance, interjects, “Now. Let’s be fair. It’s your turn, the Meep. Witness for the defense. So, what do you say?” The Doctor crosses his arms, and you observe as the Meep's innocent visage transforms into something more sinister and monstrous.

The Meep's sharp teeth are bared as it growls defiantly, "Oh, to hell with this!" With a swift motion, it brandishes a weapon, declaring, "Exhibit C!" The Meep takes aim and fires, bringing down the two Wrath Warriors, their bodies collapsing to the ground. You, the Doctor, and Donna quickly rush to the fallen foes. The Doctor, during the action, removes his barrister wig. The Meep, in a sinister tone, adds, "No stun guns for me! Just die!"

Shaun leaps out of the cab, urgently shouting, "Donna! Donna, don't!" Despite his plea, Donna remains fixated on the fallen warriors, her concern evident. You find yourself beside the Doctor on the ground as the Meep triumphantly declares, "And here they come! My soldiers of the psychedelic sun!"

Suddenly, a convoy of UNIT vehicles arrives, accompanied by soldiers with their distinctive headgear, forming a protective perimeter around all of you. Their authoritative voices ring out, "Obey the Meep!"

Donna, her maternal instincts flaring, turns to Shaun and passionately commands, "Get out! Get Rose out!"

Shaun swiftly maneuvers to the driver’s seat while Rose and Sylvia settle back in the taxi. However, the UNIT soldiers, now under the control of the Meep, have you all surrounded with no clear escape.

“I don’t need to pretend, for I am the Beep of all the Meeps,” the Meep declares, grinning menacingly with its sharp teeth.

Sergeant Zogroth emits a final groan, his parting words being, “Sergeant Zogroth regrets retirement from active duty.” His eyes dim, and his body goes limp. Donna, disgusted, confronts the Meep, saying, “I was right. You are a monster.”

The Meep revels in Donna’s anger, taunting, “And you believed every word I said. You stupid woman! With your weird child!”

Donna, ready to confront the Meep for insulting her daughter, stands defiantly, retorting, “Oh, don’t you dare!”

The Meep, relishing the confrontation, points its weapon at Donna, threatening, “Oh, I dare!”

You quickly rise, positioning yourself in front of Donna, raising your hands in a protective stance. Simultaneously, the Doctor moves across the floor on his knees, hands raised, pleading, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! But— Last-minute evidence! Me.”

He emphatically points to himself and exclaims, “Why are there two more two-hearted species on this planet? Unless we are part of a strategy by the Wrath Warriors to outfox you? If you kill me and her and fail to take this family hostage, you’ll never find out, will you?”

The Meep hums, then commands the soldiers, “Bring them!”

The Doctor stands animatedly, “Good! Now, look, I can suggest a much better way off this planet than a double-bladed dagger drive. ‘Cause that thing is gonna—”

His sentence remains unfinished as he is abruptly knocked out by a UNIT soldier. The Meep cackles triumphantly as the rest of you are ushered into the back of a truck, alongside the unconscious Doctor.

On the truck's floor, the Doctor lay with his head resting on your lap, his unconscious form a testament to the challenges you faced. Your fingers moved soothingly through his untamed, spikey hair, offering a quiet comfort amid the tension.

Donna observed the scene, her curiosity getting the better of her. "How long have you two been together?" she inquired, attempting to place where she might have encountered you before.

"A good number of years," you replied, choosing to keep the more intricate details to yourself, considering the Doctor's timeless nature.

Rose, equally intrigued, posed another question, "Are you two married?"

A snort escaped you. "Nope. I don't think he wants that with me if I'm being honest."

“Why?” Rose pressed on.

Your gaze drifted, and you sniffed softly. "I’m all sorts of wrong for him. And sometimes, it scares me. The emptiness I see in my eyes,” you admitted, vulnerability seeping into your words. Your eyes lingered on the Doctor as you continued, “The Doctor is brilliant. He is truly brilliant. After all he’s been through... he deserves everything good and more… more than me.”

As your confession lingered in the air, the Doctor began to stir awake, bringing a momentary hush to the truck. His eyes fluttered open, and a low groan escaped him as he gradually sat up, settling next to you.

Donna eyed the Doctor with suspicion, her narrowed gaze fixed on him. "Who are you?" she questioned, her tone demanding answers.

The Doctor, still feeling the effects of his earlier unconsciousness, touched the back of his head with a wince. "I’m just passing by," he nervously replied, attempting to deflect her inquiries.

Undeterred, Donna redirected her attention to her mother, Sylvia, and pressed on, "Do you know him?" Sylvia, in an attempt to conceal any familiarity, shook her head, responding, "No."

Donna, frustrated and puzzled, continued, "You act like you know him. Ever since he arrived, it’s like—" She heaved a heavy sigh, abruptly halting her train of thought. "I’m so stupid!" she declared, voicing her self-reproach.

Shaun quickly reassured his wife, "No. No, you’re not."

Donna shook her head, lost in contemplation. "We could be living somewhere far away from here. Monte Carlo. Switzerland." She then turned to her daughter Rose, who sat beside her. "And you— And you’d be safe, Rose." Donna pulled Rose into a comforting side hug. "It’s all my fault. Gave away that lottery money."

The Doctor, unable to resist his curiosity, interjected, "Why?"

Donna shot him a glare. "Because. There are places out there where people are in danger. And in pain. And fear. And I could help. Just felt the sort of thing he would do." Her words hung in the air, revealing a sense of duty and compassion that drove her actions.

Abruptly, the truck jolts to a stop, resulting in the Doctor colliding with one of the crates, eliciting a pained groan. You swiftly move to assist him. The truck door swings open, and a stern voice commands, "Out!"

MILLSON WAGNER STEELWORKS 

NORTH LONDON, – EVENING, DECEMBER 2023

The UNIT soldiers briskly led you towards the heart of the steelworks, where the Meep's spaceship had strategically landed.

"It didn't choose the steelworks by accident. It came here to be mended," the Doctor remarked as the group neared the spacecraft. The Meep made a grand entrance, seated on a makeshift throne of steel carried by a procession of UNIT soldiers. With its menacing teeth and booming voice, it declared, "Hail to the Meep!"

A hypnotic chant echoed through the steelworks as multiple officers joined in unison, "Hail to the Meep. Hail to the Most High. Hail to the Meep. Hail to the Most High."

"Human scum, behold my vessel to the stars! Far beyond your tiny, grasping minds," Beep the Meep declares with an air of arrogance. You respond with an eye roll of annoyance, and the Doctor shakes his head while humorously interjecting, "I name this ship the Delusions of Grandeur."

Beep the Meep growls in protest, "Meep."

"You can't fire those engines. Not from here. A dagger drive gets its energy by stabbing down. It would extract, ooh, five square miles? The whole of London town burnt as fuel," the Doctor explains, his tone serious and concerned.

Rose, wearing a frown, adds, "But that's nine million people."

"A great day for Meepkind. And the start of a new reign of terror as the Meep return to the stars for revenge. And feasting. Now, activate the initializers," the Meep commands, its voice dripping with malevolence.

A disciplined UNIT soldier swiftly responds, "Initializers activated."

The low hum of the spaceship's engines reverberates through the steelworks as the Meep grins with an evil glint in its eyes, proclaiming, "Brandish the gravity stanchions."

"Gravity stanchions brandished," announces a focused UNIT soldier as the prongs of the spacecraft forcefully dig into the ground.

"Calibrate the flight deck," the Meep commands with a sense of authority, intensifying the tension in the air.

A disciplined UNIT member announces, "Flight deck calibrated."

The Meep, perched on its steel throne, commands, "Take the prisoners on board! Then I’ll decide which one to eat first. Hail to Meep!"

The rhythmic chant of the hypnotized UNIT soldiers fills the air, "Hail to the Most High! Hail to the Meep!" while the Meep indulges in a sinister cackle, reveling in its delusions of grandeur.

The liftgate slams shut, transporting you to a different floor. Thoughts of subduing the UNIT guards swirl in your mind as the lift grinds to a halt. As the gate creaks open, Shirley appears, wearing a mischievous grin. "Evening, boys."

With swift precision, she activates a concealed device beneath her wheelchair, firing two darts at each soldier. The tranquilizers swiftly take effect, rendering the guards unconscious.

"You've got weapons in your wheelchair," the Doctor exclaims, eyeing Shirley with a mixture of surprise and admiration. She glances back at him, a knowing look in her eyes, and responds, "We all have. You've got your girl to thank for that. Come on." With a nod, she leads the way, wheeling herself confidently through the complex.

"Right. You lot, the family, you can get out through that door," Shirley says, gesturing towards the exit on the right. She then turns her attention to you and the Doctor, her tone more serious, "You need to get to the engine control. But the port side’s guarded, and there's no way around it."

A quick exchange of glances between you and the Doctor precedes his question to Shirley, "So what do we do?"

With a confident smirk, Shirley retorts, "I don’t just fire darts, mate." She spins her wheelchair around, revealing hidden capabilities. With the push of a button, two missiles activate and blast through the wall, creating a makeshift path forward. The unexpected firepower leaves you and the Doctor momentarily impressed.

Shirley swiftly directs the family, "You lot run. I’ll fight them off at the lift."

The Doctor tightens his grip on your hand, leading you through the large breach in the wall. The chaotic, metallic environment of the spaceship's bridge unfolds before you. With his trusty sonic screwdriver, the Doctor deftly manipulates the controls, unlocking the gate to the engine control room. As the door creaks open, the two of you step inside, ready to stop the ship from taking off.

The Doctor removes his coat and hangs it on one of the pillars as the ship's system voice declares, “Dagger drive systems initializing.”

In a sudden burst of energy, Donna enters the control room panting, "That's enough… running. Blimey."

The system voice abruptly announces, “Chamber deadlocked.” Panic sets in as the only exit seals shut, leaving the Doctor frustrated. He slams his hands on the door, exclaiming, “No, no, no, no! I told you to go—just don’t!”

Frantically, he moves about the room, urging, “No time. I’ve got this. We’ve got it. We’ve got it. You stay there. Don’t move, Donna!”

The Doctor and you scramble around, pressing buttons and flicking switches, racing against time as the system voice declares, “Star launch in five minutes.”

Climbing up one of the pillars, the Doctor instructs you while you squat on the other side to manipulate hidden switches. Suddenly, the system announces, “Deadlock sealed.” A flicker of discomfort courses through both of you as the ship's mechanisms react.

“It’s been deadlocked,” you groan, and Donna questions, “What’s that mean?” 

The Doctor replies swiftly, “It means, we can do it by hand.”

You move to the far end of the ship, and the system voice chimes in again, “Maxifold bisecting.” A glass pane wall starts dividing the room, separating you from the Doctor and Donna. “You can stay on that side Doctor, I—” But then the Doctor rolls under the glass just before it seals, protesting, “Oh. No, no, no, no!”

“Double dagger drive installed and initiated.”

You can feel your eye twitch as you look at the Doctor standing next to you. “Okay, okay. Okay, we can do it with half the room. That’s fine.” The Doctor tries to reassure himself and you look at him wondering why he had to end up on your side of the room.

“Let me help.” Donna insists and the Doctor is quick to disagree, “No! You can’t get involved.”

Donna looks at the Doctor with a glare, challenging him and the Doctor tries to steady his resolve, “You can’t!”

It's then your turn to shoot him a pointed look. The Doctor groans and pants in frustration before finally surrendering. He instructs Donna, "Switches, the top ones, the blue ones, flick them all down."

Donna diligently follows his directions, swiftly flicking the switches down, while you navigate to a different section of your side of the room to spin a dial a few times. Despite your efforts, it proves futile, and you slump down in disappointment. The Doctor, leaning defeatedly on a pillar, somberly admits, "We've run out of time."

“Ignition in 230.”

The Doctor sighs with a heavy burden on his shoulders as he confides in Donna, "If there was anything else I could do, but there's one thing left."

"Well— Well, then do it," Donna urges, her tone laced with desperation. The Doctor, however, looks down in shame, prompting Donna to insist, "Hurry up and do it! What are you waiting for?"

Pushing himself off the pillar, the Doctor strides over to the glass partition separating Donna from the two of you. "I think… all that coincidence was heading here to save London from burning. 'Cause the three of us can stop this ship. Together."

Donna gasps in realization, "Oh."

As you rise and move towards the glass, locking eyes with Donna, you declare, "But it will kill you."

Donna sharply inhales, and responds easily, “Okay.”

The Doctor’s voice cracks as he says, “You’ll die.”

Donna's lower lip trembles, her eyes reflecting the imminent crisis, as she says, "My daughter is down there."

"Ignition in 180."

Tears well up in Donna's eyes, and her voice stammers with fear, "And it's not just Rose. It's nine million people. Who cares about me?"

The Doctor responds swiftly, his urgency palpable, "I do. We both do."

Donna takes a deep breath, mustering courage, and asks, "But why?" She pauses, gathering her thoughts, and continues, "I'm just no one."

The Doctor's expression shifts to one of anger, his eyebrows furrowing as he yells, "No, you are not!"

He takes a few steps back, the weight of the situation evident in his sob and scream, "Why does it have to be this?"

"Entering the final sequence."

The Doctor looks at Donna with a somber gaze, defeated, as he utters the words that trigger Donna's memories, "Westerly. Pelican. Dreams."

Donna is desperate as she says, "I don't— Look, I don't care what it is. All right. Just— just go on and do it, will you?"

"Ignition in 150."

"Tornado. Clifftops. Andante," the Doctor says.

"Get on with it!" Donna shouts.

The Doctor continues, "Grief. Fingerprint. Susurration."

Donna's eyes light up as she begins to remember her adventures, "Oh."

The Doctor and Donna utter the last few words in unison, "Sparrow. Dance. Mexico. Binary. Binary. Binary."

A golden glow emanates from Donna, the metacrisis shimmering through as she regains her memories once more. You and the Doctor press your palms against the glass, witnessing her transformative moment.

"Ignition in 100."

As the glow dissipates, the Doctor anxiously asks, "Are you alright?"

"Ignition in 90."

Donna pants, sighs, and sweeps her bangs away from her eyes as she glares at the Doctor. Inhaling deeply, she says, "I gave away my money."

"Ignition in 75."

The Doctor looks at her, puzzled, "Right, but—"

Donna, expressing a mix of frustration and anger, interrupts, "I gave away all my money. And do you know why, Doctor? I gave it away to be like you. So I could be kind. So I could be nice. So I could be helpful— I—"

Donna releases a frustrated growl as the system voice continues, "Ignition in one minute."

Moving her face closer to the glass panel, Donna continues, "I had a subconscious, infracutaneous, retrofold memory loop making me act as soft as you and give away 166 million pounds!"

"Ignition in 50."

The Doctor, wide-eyed, nods in agreement but attempts to refocus on the urgent matter, "Yes, Donna, but— Destruction of London?"

"Oh, I'll show you destruction, mate," Donna declares, intertwining her fingers before flexing them to crack her knuckles.

"Ignition in 40."

You and the Doctor observe in awe as Donna moves around the control panel with ease. "I'll triple-drive the particle manifesto, overstep the umbilical feed, vindicate the cyberline, and roast the hyperfeeds! Like this!" Donna exclaims, spinning the dial on the lower left of her.

The Doctor navigates about half of the room, deftly flicking switches while instructing, "Maximise the stressfold links!"

"Channel up the booster drive!" Donna commands, pressing a few buttons.

"Inculcate the plexidrones!" You chime in, flicking a few more switches.

"And shatterfry the positrons! Oh yes!" Donna exclaims.

"Twenty, nineteen..."

Donna interrupts, asking, "How long have I got to live?" as she switches off a few controls.

"...sixteen, fifteen..."

All three of you simultaneously answer, "Fifty-five seconds."

"Thirteen, twelve, eleven..."

"The best fifty-five seconds of my life!" Donna exclaims.

"Seven, six, five, four..."

"Because I get to do this!" Donna proudly announces, turning around and simultaneously flicking off several switches.

"Three, two— Ignition halted."

You three watch as the panel flies off the wall; the countdown has stopped, and Donna proudly states, "Donna Noble is descending."

"Ignition reverse. Ignition reverse."

"It’s working!" The Doctor's voice resonates with exhilaration as the tangible effects of the reversed dagger drive unfold before your eyes.

However, your joy is cut short when you notice Donna beginning to falter. Panic sets in, and you urgently cry out, "No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

Swiftly, both you and the Doctor move in unison to catch Donna as she descends, cradling her fragile form in your arms. Donna sighs, her expression reflecting a mix of exhaustion and relief. The Doctor reassures her, "We did it. She’s fine. She’s safe. You saved her."

Donna smiles weakly, and you add, "You saved them all."

In a moment of introspection, Donna questions, "Why did this face come back?" She turns her gaze towards the Doctor, who responds with a sigh, "I don’t know."

"To say goodbye," Donna asserts with a soft smile. She then shifts her attention to you, saying, "Oh, the Stargazer. I’ve missed you."

"I’ve missed you too, Donna, every day," you confess, and the Doctor emits a thoughtful hum.

"Good fun, though," Donna remarks, her chuckles mingling with yours and the Doctor's. The lighthearted moment takes an abrupt turn as Donna's eyes flutter closed, her entire being going limp in the arms of her two closest companions.

A collective sob escapes from you and the Doctor as you sit there, cradling your best friend, a bittersweet mixture of victory and loss filling the air.

Abruptly, the door to the engine control room opens, revealing a cadre of UNIT soldiers with swirling, hypnotized eyes. The air tightens with tension as one of them declares, "We have orders to kill you."

Undeterred, the Doctor retorts defiantly, "Do what you want. This ship isn't going anywhere. You were beaten. By the DoctorDonna." The soldiers, rifles at the ready, cast ominous shadows in the confined space. You resign yourself to the impending threat, feeling the Doctor's protective instinct as he positions himself to shield you.

In a surprising turn, the psychedelic light emitted from the soldiers' eyes screeches and hisses, dissipating into nothingness. Bewilderment echoes through the room, and you join the Doctor in uttering a perplexed, "What?"

Even one of the soldiers can't help but question, "What?"

Donna, roused from her unconscious state, adds her own disoriented, "What?"

The Doctor, his voice tinged with disbelief, softly utters, "You're not dead."

A collective sense of confusion lingers, and Donna, now fully awake, queries, "But how?" as she steadies herself.

After a brief pause, Rose's voice resonates through the intercom, "Can you hear me? Mum? Doctor? Star? I think it's safe for you to come down now."

Donna responds, perplexed, "Rose?"

The Doctor's eyes widen with a sudden epiphany, "Too much power for one person, but you had a child, and the metacrisis passed down. A shared inheritance."

Donna grins, “It was always there. Shining out of her.”

“And she chose her own name,” the Doctor adds.

“Oh, the shed! The shed was her memory of the TARDIS. The toys! Every creature we met, she remembered as a toy,” Donna says with a glint in her eye.

You gape, suddenly realizing, “We are binary.”

“She’s not. Because the Doctor’s—”

The Doctor interjects, “Male.”

“And female,” Donna finishes.

"And neither. And more," Rose says, her voice carrying a warm smile through the intercom.

Donna rushes down the stairs, her steps echoing in the cavernous steelworks. Rose meets her halfway, and they share an emotional hug, Shaun joining in the embrace.

You and the Doctor follow suit, descending rapidly to the ground floor. Sylvia awaits, and as you approach, the Doctor wraps her in a jubilant hug. He inquires, “Happy now?”

Sylvia responds with a radiant smile, "My father would be impressed. I have no higher compliment." Laughter of triumph fills the air as you and the Doctor proceed to the nearby control center.

Shirley deftly maneuvers her wheelchair towards you and the Doctor, offering her unique perspective. She addresses the Doctor with a sly grin, “There’s a word for you, Doctor. And that word is jammy.”

The Doctor responds with infectious enthusiasm, “Jam on toast.” He decisively slams a button, activating the intercom. With authority, he speaks into the microphone, “Calling the Meep.”

The Meep's defiant voice crackles through the speakers, “You forget I still have my ship. And if I have to explode the engines and rupture this world and damn us all to hell, then I will!” A shared glance between you and the Doctor follows, and he graciously hands you the task of flicking the crucial switch.

With a resounding click, the Meep’s cockpit is ejected into the sky, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of the Meep's distressed shrieks. You and the Doctor gaze upward, drawn into the spectacle unfolding against the canvas of the vast night sky.

“There you go.” The Doctor points with a wry smile, observing the Meep’s cockpit deploying a parachute against the cosmic backdrop.

You feel the Doctor's reassuring grip on your waist as he pulls you into his side. Together, you look up, transfixed by the celestial display. The stars twinkle above, and in that moment, you choose to hope and believe that nothing universe-ending has transpired yet.

As the sun ascends on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the scene, the Wrath Warriors stand sternly with the imprisoned Meep, forming an uneasy tableau. You step forward, addressing them with a heavy heart, "Sergeant Zogroth and Constable Zreeg gave their lives, alongside many Earth soldiers."

The Wrath Warrior, resolute in the face of the aftermath, declares, "Their names will be included in the litany of crimes as the Meep atones in prison for 10,000 years." The Meep, defiant in defeat, mutters, "Oh, I will escape and have my revenge. So you beware, Doctor and Stargazer, because there’s one more thing."

With a determined stride, the Doctor moves closer, inquiring, "Which is?"

“A creature with two hearts is such a rare thing. And to have two of your kind here… Just wait till I tell the boss,” the Meep retorts, an ominous promise lingering in the air. The Wrath Warriors and the Meep vanish in a teleportation, leaving a sobering aftermath beneath the morning sun.

The Doctor, caught in contemplation, mumbles under his breath, "Cryptic. I hate that." He takes a deep breath, turning his attention to Donna and Rose with a sense of urgency, "But… we’ve still gotta fix you two. ‘Cause the metacrisis might have slowed down, but that thing is wrapped around your cortex."

Donna, with an eye roll and a knowing nod, quips, “Yes, we know.”

Rose adds confidently, “We know everything, thanks.”

Donna, in her typical nonchalant manner, shrugs, “And you know nothing. It’s a shame you’re not a woman anymore. ‘Cause she’d have understood.”

Rose, crossing her arms, asserts with confidence, “You’ve got all that power, but there is a way to get rid of it. Something a male-presenting Time Lord will never understand.”

Donna, ever pragmatic, advises, “Just let it go.”

The unity between mother and daughter becomes evident as Rose takes Donna’s hand, and together, they release the accumulated metacrisis energy. Shaun interjects with a grin, “Like I said, mate, how lucky am I?”

Rose, with a joyous laugh, concludes, “After all these years, I’m… finally me.”

CAMDEN MARKET, LONDON — MORNING, 2023

Shaun skillfully navigates the vehicle, bringing the group back to Camden Market in London. Earlier, you had informed Shirley about the intention to bid farewell to the Doctor and Donna before returning to headquarters. Shirley responded with a nonchalant, "Sure..." accompanied by a discerning look, rolling away from you in her wheelchair.

The Doctor maintains his characteristic chattiness as he informs Donna, "And UNIT has a splendid insurance policy for damage caused during an alien war. While they sort that out..." Approaching the iconic tall blue police box, the TARDIS, the Doctor gestures towards it, saying, "One last trip?"

"Uh, don’t you dare," Sylvie interjects with a pointed look. Donna, casting puppy eyes at both you and the Doctor, laments, “Do you know, I would love to.” She then takes a sharp inhale, sighs, and adds, “But… I have got adventures of my own, bringing up this one.” Donna points her thumb towards Rose.

“Can I see inside?” Rose asks the Doctor curiously, taking a step toward the TARDIS. Donna, however, swiftly moves her away, cautioning, “No. No! No. No.”

Rose sighs, and Donna playfully waves her finger, “No. Because summat will go wrong, and you’ll end up on Mars with Chaucer and a robot shark. And that’s actually happened, hasn’t it.”

The Doctor gives a sheepish, “Oh, yeah.”

“But I was thinking, we could go and see Wilf?” The Doctor suggests to you and Donna.

Donna then says, “Now that is cheating.”

The Doctor pouts, “Just a suggestion.”

“I mean it, don’t you dare.” Sylvie says, and Donna sighs, “But imagine his face, Mum. Oh, he would be so happy. All those secrets Grandad kept for years. He— He thought I’d never remember. And to see the Doctor. One last time.”

The Doctor and Donna make a puppy face to you and Sylvie, urging you to join them. Sylvie relents and gives in, “Oh, all right. But one trip. That’s all. Just one.”

The Doctor turns to unlock the door with his key while Donna laughs with glee, “One tiny, little trip. That is a promise.”

Donna turns to you and the Doctor and gasps in excitement, “It’s like the old days. Just me, the Doctor, and the Stargazer. Together.” She then turns to her family, “Is that all right?”

“Yeah, of course it is,” Shaun says confidently with a huge smile.

“Well, a lot of husbands would worry. You know, me, in a box, with another man.” Donna jokes, and Shaun shrugs and shakes his head, “Yeah. But not him.”

The Doctor looks somewhat offended, but then Donna shoos him to go inside, “Come on, space man.”

In the quiet aftermath, with Donna entering the TARDIS, the Doctor notices the unsure expression on your face. He whispers to Donna to go ahead, and she complies, leaving the two of you alone, behind the TARDIS, sheltered from prying eyes.

With a gentle gesture, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He cups your face with both hands, his smile revealing dimples that carry the weight of countless adventures. “The stars haven’t gone out.”

Your raised brows betray a hint of skepticism, “Yet…”

The Doctor locks eyes with you, his deep dark brown orbs conveying understanding. As tears well up in your eyes, you break the silence, your voice a fragile whisper, “You have no idea how bad it gets. How scared I am that all of this is temporary and I lose you… and I can’t have you.”

“Hey. Hey, hey. None of that,” he reassures, his gaze unwavering. “So far, everything has been leading me back to you. And when the time comes to face it… we’ll fix it… together. I can’t lose you again. Not ever again.”

His words linger in the air, a vow shaped by the quiet resilience of a Time Lord who has navigated countless challenges across time and space. You respond with a nod, sealing the unspoken pact, and tenderly kiss his wrists. In return, he draws you closer, planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“When this is all over,” he declares, “we’re getting married.”

“What?” you screech, caught off guard by the unexpected revelation.

“We've waited this long. I’m not spending the rest of my how many years without you,” the Doctor insists, his eyes earnest.

“Is this a proposal?” you inquire, a mixture of surprise and delight in your voice.

“If you want,” he smirks, playfully nonchalant.

On tiptoe, you reach up to kiss the tip of his nose, a tender acknowledgment, “We'll see.” The promise of an unwritten future hangs in the air, held by the shared understanding that time and space will unfold their stories together.

THE TARDIS

The Doctor guides you inside the TARDIS and closes the door behind him and both of you are in awe of the major changes of the entire TARDIS. Huge curved white walls with round circles that glow with lights and many ramps that lead to different corridors.

The Doctor hangs his coat on one of the railings as he grins and laughs, “Whoa!” He begins to run around all the ramps with the energy of a little kid as he shouts, “This is amazing!”

“It changed! Oh, you clever thing! Look at that!” The Doctor laughs as he finishes his lap around the new interior of the TARDIS. He runs over to the console and smiles, “It’s got this!”

He pushes a lever forward, and the lights within the TARDIS shift to a vibrant orange, casting a warm glow. Your gaze is drawn upward in awe as the ambient hum of the time machine resonates around you. Running your fingers along the railings, you can feel the TARDIS responding, and you affectionately murmur, “Hello, sweet thing. I missed you too.”

Amid the luminous atmosphere, the Doctor darts around the console, engaging with switches and buttons on the refurbished device. Donna, observing the transformation, remarks, “It’s still a bit nippy.”

The Doctor protests, “Oh, come on!”

Undeterred, Donna concedes with a grin, “All right…” Her expression changes as she admires the surroundings, “It’s gorgeous!” Laughter bubbles up from both Donna and the Doctor, who joins in the jubilation, bouncing excitedly.

“It’s cleaner. And it’s grown,” Donna observes, her laughter echoing through the TARDIS.

Making your way to the console, you overhear Donna questioning the Doctor, “But I— I still don’t get it. I mean, the TARDIS can change all right. But what about your face? Why did it come back?”

“Does there have to be a reason?” the Doctor muses, and Donna, with a snort, retorts, “In your life? Yes!”

With a nonchalant shrug, the Doctor remarks, “Well, I’m stuck with it now.” He continues exploring the console, fidgeting with excitement, and comments, “Oh, this thing is brilliant. It’s even got a coffee machine!” Glancing at you and Donna, he inquires, “You want one?”

You shake your head, “No, thank you, darling.”

“You’re kidding,” Donna says with wide eyes.

“With cold milk, yeah?” The Doctor deftly presses a few buttons, and Donna, smiling, says, “Well remembered.” To your delight, a white cup materializes with coffee and cold milk.

He carefully hands the cup of coffee to Donna who says, “Thank you very much. Careful. It’s how I lost my job. Dropped a coffee in the computer.”

To which the Doctor just hums and moves to flick a few more switches around the console as you lean on a railing, to listen to him say, “I really do remember, though. Every second with you. I’m so glad you’re back ‘cause it killed me, Donna.” The Doctor clicks another switch as he continues on, “It killed me, it killed me, it killed me.”

"We can have more days, can’t we?" Donna inquires, her tone laced with a mix of hope and curiosity. Her eyes reflect a desire for a future filled with shared moments. Continuing with optimism, she suggests, "I mean, why is it such a big goodbye with you? Why is it one last trip? ‘Cause you could visit. With my family."

The Doctor, absorbed in examining a screw, listens attentively as Donna paints a vivid picture of ordinary yet precious moments. "We could do outrageous things, like have tea, dinner, and a laugh! And Rose’s school play. Well, maybe not that. She can’t act. She’s terrible. I don’t know how to tell her. But the point is, you’ve been given a second chance. You can do things differently this time."

Encouraging him to embrace change, Donna suggests, "So why don’t you do something completely new and have some friends?"

The Doctor contemplates the idea, responding with a hesitant "Maybe. Yeah." Donna chuckles, savoring the simplicity of their current moment. "Mmm. Like now," she remarks, lifting her cup as if to toast. "Here we are. Having a coffee."

Before the Doctor can respond, Donna's accidental spillage disrupts the calm, eliciting a gasp from her. "What’s gonna go wrong—" Her sentence is abruptly cut off as the spilled coffee interacts with the TARDIS console, resulting in sparks and flames.

With urgency, Donna questions, "What’s happening?" The Doctor, swift in his actions, ushers both you and Donna away from the unfolding chaos. The TARDIS groans and whines as its engines protest, and the cloister bell rings ominously in the background.

"We could end up anywhere in time and space," the Doctor confesses, a tinge of uncertainty in his voice. As the atmosphere fills with anticipation, you brace yourself, thinking, "Here we go again."

TAGLIST:

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

The sweet taste of wine

Yess!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, alcohol, fluff

Word count: 7,412

Summary: You want to be less shy with her...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Like this?” you asked, placing the fabric so the lady in black could examine another of your attempts to learn to sew.

The night was always quiet at the Beneviento estate. The darkness you believed existed in that place faded away like a bank of fog under the sun. You, the youngest of four siblings, a young, shy and lonely girl, never thought about all the real possibilities that were within your reach.

Resigned to living like the rest of your family, to an ephemeral and boring existence, you had the good, or bad luck of entering the forest during a storm, of getting lost like in one of the stories you used to read.

There were no witches, no bread crumbs, no goblins. The only thing there was it’s a lonely house, of a lonely woman.

When Donna Beneviento, the village Lord, a mysterious and dark woman, appeared at the door, you thought you saw the very portrait of death, the black color of darkness. Maybe you had read too much nonsense, maybe you had heard too many legends that spoke of how fearsome and dangerous the lady in black was.

Nothing you had heard seemed real. The monsters, the ghosts of your past didn’t appear to torment you. There was no torture, there was no desire to throw yourself off that cliff, no; what there was it’s shelter, a hot tea and a silent gaze that remained fixed on yours during that unexpected visit.

Disturbed, sick and deformed, those were the villagers' favorite adjectives to refer to that mysterious figure, that woman covered by a black veil, that woman who didn’t speak to you directly, but used that Angie doll to ask dry and simple questions.

You might think that the fear you felt that afternoon attracted her attention, that the tremors in your hand seemed to be almost addictive to her. You even came to think that the tea was poisoned, that, without you realizing it, your torture had already begun.

It wasn't like that.

Little by little, you began to walk through that forest again, to cross that bridge. There were no more storms or dangers that pushed you to continue, only curiosity, only the desire to meet that woman who was so dangerous and kind at the same time.

And so the days, the weeks became a routine journey, a journey of discovery for the two of you. Curiosity changed to another feeling, one you had never felt, one you had read about and didn't believe possible for you: love.

Love for that veiled woman, for the voice that began to sound behind that cloth, for a hoarse and melodic whisper that no longer asked absurd questions, but seemed to be dying to know more things about you.

And then, you saw her; you saw that hidden face, the beauty that no one wanted to believe existed. The veil fell before your eyes, her frightened gaze was revealed to you. You were in love, and so was she.

No stupid scar could make you stop thinking that she was beautiful, neither fear, nor nervous breakdowns, nor the danger of that woman made you back away, prevented you from getting a little closer, just a little closer, until your lips softly collided with hers.

A kiss, the first kiss.

It wasn't long until, determined to keep that softness on your lips, those gentle caresses, those romantic words, you left your crowded home to embark on a new adventure, to live with Donna.

And so, more months passed. You might not be what she was looking for. It might be that your shyness and embarrassment were not something she had taken into account when loving you, but everything was going well, very well. Your life had gone from being boring and absurd, to perfect… Well, almost perfect.

“Let me take a look, tesoro,” Donna told you, kindly taking the piece of fabric you offered her and which you sewed.

“It’s horrible, I know,” you said, sighing, embarrassed again by your poor skills. She shook her head, running a finger along that misshapen seam.

“No, no…” she murmured, undoing one of the seams effortlessly, another mistake. “I mean, it’s not bad.”

“You’re such a bad liar, Donna,” you said, taking the fabric again and huffing in embarrassment, frustrated.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N), no one learns to sew in one night,” she said, smiling, coming closer to put one hand on yours, guiding the other down your cheek, forcing you to look at her.

“I'm sure you think I'm stupid,” you murmured, playing with that horribly sewn piece of fabric. “My sisters know how to sew perfectly.”

“I don't think so,” the lady in black answered, with a cold voice, with a serious look, without letting your hand go.

“I've ruined another one of your fabrics…” you sighed, shaking your head, looking at that seam again. “I'll never be able to help you.”

“Help me?” The doll maker asked, curious, coming closer so she could take both of your hands and gently guide them to the fabric so you could start sewing again. “Try holding the needle this way…”

You nodded, letting her hands play with yours, letting her advice stay in your mind so you wouldn't forget it. You would, you were a pretty clumsy girl but Donna... She didn't seem to mind.

“Well, you know, I'm here, at your house, you make me lunch, dinner... I'm spending your resources without giving you anything in return,” you sighed.

“Sciocchezze...” Donna murmured, letting your hands go so you could continue sewing by yourself. You looked at her with a frown, but continued.

“Sci... Scios...Sco...” you tried to repeat, sighing when you were unable to.

“Sciocchezze,” she repeated, much more slowly so you could understand her. You didn't, of course.

“S… Scio…” you tried to say again, huffing in defeat, embarrassed by your clumsiness.

Donna laughed tenderly, watching the movements of your hand, which resumed when your cheeks blushed, looking for a way to escape from your embarrassment.

“It's not funny,” you whispered in a low voice. She stopped laughing, but didn't take the smile off her face, sighing. “I'm very clumsy with everything.”

“(Y/N), nobody asked you to learn all those things,” she said, with a more relaxed tone, glancing sideways at your clumsy sewing and reaching out a hand to pull the thread you hadn't sewn well. “You haven't tightened it enough, see? It's loose.”

“I don't know why I try,” you said defeated, leaving the piece of fabric on the coffee table, crossing your arms.

“It's not that hard, tesoro,” Donna whispered, caressing your cheek burning with blush. “I'm sure you'll learn.”

“I wouldn't say it loud…” you murmured, looking away. “How did you learn?”

“I… Well, I… I was taught by… My… My parents,” the lady in black stammered, moving away, her hand starting to shake. That was a bad sign, you had to fix it.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” you said nervously, calming that trembling with a gentle hand on hers. “I didn't mean to… You see? I'm clumsy even in talking.”

Donna smiled, shaking her head, calmed by your caresses, taking your hand and kissing it affectionately.

“I don't want a girl skilled in sewing or languages, (Y/N)…” she whispered, caressing your cheek, dissipating some of your frustration. “I want you.”

You laughed shyly, nervous about the sensations that a sudden kiss caused you, about how, without wanting it, it deepened even more, not feeling, not hearing anything but the sounds of your lips colliding.

You looked at each other and smiled. Yes, Donna was right, you might not be the most useful villager in the world, but you were the luckiest, lucky to be by her side.

The kisses continued, the caresses passed over your cheeks, over your body…

Donna leaned towards you, lowering her lips to your neck, kissing it so softly that it almost tickled you. She had no intention of stopping and that made you worry.

It had been months since you lived on the estate, but, you had never gone to the next level, you had never taken that step that you were supposed to take. Donna never insisted, but for some time now those kisses always ended the same way.

Her breathing became labored as her hands ran over your body, her lips altering the beating of your heart. You knew you had to let yourself go, to give yourself over to the love she wanted to give you, to do what two people who love each other were supposed to do.

But you couldn't, you just couldn't. Your clumsiness and shyness overwhelmed your senses. Your nerves made your body tremble as Donna manipulated it as she pleased, making your back rest on the couch while one of her hands ran over your leg, caressing your exposed skin.

You lost concentration, the slow and harmonious rhythm of those soft kisses, of the caresses that you clumsily made on her dress. Shame was always one of your greatest flaws, the fear of failure, the fear of not being enough, an irrational fear of loving fully and being loved.

When that mischievous hand slipped into your dress, gripping your thigh, when Donna gasped at the pleasure of brushing against your skin, you opened your eyes, quickly putting your hand on her wrist, stopping that inevitable rise.

“Do-Donna…” you murmured, stopping the kisses, the caresses, removing her hand from your leg. She looked at you confused, but didn’t resist. “D-don't continue, please…”

That kind of pitiful plea changed her expression. For a moment you seemed to see in her one eye the shadow of disappointment, a tired sigh at your shy attitude. It was only a second, her face relaxed as she pulled away, sitting back on the couch.

“I'm sorry,” she apologized, shaking her head, looking at you, biting her lip in frustration, but respecting, as always, your decision.

“No, don't apologize, I…” you said quickly, putting a hand on her shoulder, relaxing your breathing. “I'm just not… I'm not ready.”

“When are you going to be ready?” she asked in a brusque, almost aggressive way, making you shrink in place, disappointed with yourself. Donna looked at you with a dark gleam in her eye, one that disappeared when she closed it, sighing regretfully. “I, I didn't mean that, I…”

“I don't know,” you murmured embarrassed, looking away. Another sigh left her lips, as if she was trying to calm herself down. “Donna, I'm sorry, it's just that I…”

“Okay, okay, it's okay,” she whispered, coming closer to you, cupping your face in her hands, with a more understanding look, but clearly forced. “Listen, amore mio, I don't… I don't want to pressure you.”

“I, I know,” you stammered, keeping her gaze, hating the sad gleam in her eye. “I just don't… I can't.”

“I would never hurt you, you know that, right?” the lady in black asked, with a soft tone, with her caresses soothing your ears. You nodded, closing your eyes, letting the softness of her skin calm your fears.

“Sure, it's just... It's just that...” you said, moving away, looking at the wooden floor, searching for a small shield for your words, for your shyness. “I, I'm so embarrassed.”

Donna smiled softly, tilting her head to look at you closely, surely wanting to find an explanation for your reluctance, for your lack of desire to undress and merge with her.

“Relax, tesoro... I'll wait,” she whispered, kissing your cheek with that same smile, causing the blush to be present on your face again. “We have a whole life to do it, don't we?”

You smiled and nodded, kissing her quickly on the lips, with the sound of the clock saying that once again, it was late.

“I should go to bed,” you said, slowly getting up from the couch. Donna followed you, with a confused, thoughtful look, gently grabbing your wrist.

“Um, hey, do you want, do you want to sleep in my room, with me?” she asked, like every night, like every damn night you refused to do it. Always out of shyness, out of fear, out of shame. You were so clumsy, so insecure that you even refused to share her bed.

You didn't know if it was because of the fear of the unknown, of another of her advances, or for something else, but you simply couldn't.

“Oh, Well…” you stammered, scratching the back of your neck, shaking your head.

“I don't have ulterior motives, tesoro, I just want to sleep next to you,” she said, taking your hands, with a sincere look. “I would like that very much, (Y/N).”

“Oh, I…” you hesitated, letting the fear speak for you. “I, I prefer to sleep upstairs if, if you don't mind… It's just that I… I, I move a lot in bed and…”

Donna sighed, nodding with a disappointed but understanding look, kissing you on the lips as a farewell.

“It's okay,” she whispered with a fake smile, kissing you again, slowly releasing your hand. “Sleep well, (Y/N)...” she said before turning and disappearing down the hall.

“Jeez...” you sighed, running a hand over your forehead, regretting your decision, but too shy to call her again, to get under the sheets with her, in every sense.

“Hey, you!” a shrill voice brought you out of your laments. Of course, Angie had to make an appearance. “You've left my Donna hot again. You're such a fool.”

You shook your head, your face red from that accusation.

“I, I don't...” you whispered, knowing that whatever you said was going to make sense, that the puppet wasn't going to stop making fun of you.

“Silly, silly! Donna is going to get tired of your closed legs, you fool,” she accused, making small mocking jumps around you.

You frowned and your stomach turned. That damn puppet had revealed a new fear to you, the fear of losing Donna because of your insecurities.

“Angie, vieni qui!” Donna called from the elevator hallway, sensing, not wrongly, that her doll was mocking you again.

“Fool,” she said simply, walking comically towards her owner, laughing with a sinister laugh.

Angie was right, you were a fool.

Fear, shame and shyness were beginning to take their toll on your relationship. Of course, Donna didn't want to give importance to your refusal to make love, or rather, she wanted to pretend that it wasn't important.

It didn't matter how much you loved her, how much deep down you wanted to do it. You couldn't, fear simply didn't let you act, it didn't let your mind free itself. It doesn’t let your body melt into a naked embrace, her kisses to take you far, far away from your fears.

The next day came like any other, after a lonely night, full of regrets, of apologies to Donna and to yourself. Being alone was counterproductive, your mind traveled through all the possibilities that your refusal to love could cause.

Angie said that Donna was tired of your attitude. You couldn't believe that irritating puppet, but deep down you knew that it was like that, that the patience of the lady in black could have a limit, to which you were beginning to be dangerously close.

But if that worried her, she certainly didn't show it. Kisses, caresses, silent and calm teas... Nothing had changed that day, everything was the same, her smile was still the same. Maybe your fears were completely unfounded, you didn't know. You were simply trying to see the bright side of giving in to her wishes, of being a normal couple, of playing under the sheets, of sleeping together, of stopping being... You.

“It's delicious,” you said with a shy smile when it was time for dinner, a romantic dinner, silent, lit by candlelight. Donna smiled pleased by your compliment, pouring some wine into your glass.

“Grazie, tesoro...” she whispered romantically, winking at you.

“You know what? I've been practicing while you were in the workshop,” you said proud of your work, showing her the piece of fabric you were practicing on. Donna extended her arm to look at it more closely. You loved when she was focused, when she was meticulous.

The nerves of knowing how it had gone made you accidentally bring your hand to your wine glass, innocently thinking that it was water. The red liquid went down your throat making it burn, causing you to cough and look disgusted.

“What are you doing?” Donna asked, running her fingers along the seams, watching you amused as you soothed the burn of the wine with water.

“I, I, I got the wrong glass,” you said, blinking at the sensation of the alcohol burning your stomach. You had never drank that fast.

Donna laughed amused, shaking her head and handing the piece of cloth back to you.

“You’ve improved a lot, (Y/N),” she commented, elegantly drinking from her glass. You shrugged, finishing your dinner, hiding your blush as best you could.

Your cheeks burned, but you weren’t so embarrassed. For some reason, you began to relax, to feel good, to notice a strange glow on your skin and to look at the bottle of wine with desire.

“Can I have some more?” you asked automatically, extending the empty glass towards Donna, who frowned, but obeyed your request.

“Haven't you had enough?” she asked, putting the bottle back on the table while you, without thinking, brought the glass to your lips again.

“I'm thirsty,” you said with a mocking tone, one you had never dared to have. The wine went down your throat, that time in a pleasant way.

The heat of your cheeks increased and the sensation of feeling freed from your fears began to be present in that romantic dinner.

“You are beautiful, Donna,” you whispered, resting your head on your hands. She looked at you confused, but smiled blushing, with a tender gesture.

“Wow, thanks, (Y/N),” she murmured arching her eyebrow, looking at you with curiosity. “It's not true.”

“Come on…” you said amused, dismissing it with your hand, tilting your head to look at her, to observe her closely, to remind yourself over and over again that you loved her. “Look at you… You have a beautiful eye and… Oh, well, it's the only one you have but… It's beautiful and… I don't need you to have two because one is enough and… You, your hair, it's soft and… I, I better shut up,” you stammered, surprised by your own words.

Donna laughed in surprise, sipping from her glass and getting up from the table, surely alerted by your erratic attitude. Walking slowly towards you, she lifted your chin with a finger, noticing the strange shine in your eyes and your delirious smile.

“Are you okay?” she asked cautiously, glancing at your second empty glass.

“Better than ever,” you said hiccupping, deducing you had drunk a little more than you should have but that… Mysteriously, you were fine, safe, confident.

“Mm,” she murmured, with a distrustful look. “Do you want us to do something, tesoro? Yesterday I bought some new movies from the Duke, if you want, we can…”

“No, no, no,” you interrupted, startling her and getting up clumsily from the chair, noticing how a terrible but bearable dizziness fell mercilessly on you, making you stumble and land in the arms of the brunette, who laughed confused.

“(Y/N)…” she said amused. “Are you drunk?” she asked, holding you while you, keeping your balance, shook your head.

“No, I’m not,” you said with an exaggerated expression. “ I'm just a bit… Happy, I think.”

Donna laughed again, surprised by your words lacking tremors and insecurities, but worried that you were lying.

“Okay…” she said distrustfully, grabbing you by the waist, something that, surprisingly, you didn’t stop her from doing. “What do you want to do then?”

“Mmm,” you murmured thoughtfully as she held your body with a slightly sinister smile, surely amused by your condition. “We can read together.”

“Will you be able to see the words?” Donna joked, guiding you to sit on the sofa next to her.

You nodded profusely, leaning against her warm body, letting her perfume intoxicate you even more.

Donna read and you tried to do so, nervous but determined, with a strange confidence running through your thoughts, wanting to say, to do something different than being silent.

Her caresses on your hair were comforting, her calm breathing passed through her chest as you leaned on it. You would be more comfortable if a horrible heat wasn't torturing you, forcing you to unbutton your dress, leaving more skin than you should, exposed.

Donna glanced at you out of the corner of her eye and her mouth raised mischievously. You noticed that gesture and brought a finger to her cheek, caressing it teasingly.

“What were you looking at, darling?” you asked in a velvety voice, purring, making Donna frown.

“I was looking at you, tesoro,” she said indifferently.

Your response was a loud evil laugh, attracting her attention again, moving to, in an act unthinkable for the shy (Y/N), rest your head on her lap, looking at her from below.

“How do you say lie in Italian?” you asked in a provocative whisper, biting your lip, settling on her lap. She looked at you curiously, closing the book you weren't reading, sketching a mischievous smile.

“Bugia,” she answered, running her hand through your heat-messed hair, looking at you with the same curiosity as during that dinner

“Well, that's it... Buria,” you said amused, moving your hands erratically towards the brunette's dress, running your fingers through its buttons. Donna laughed again, shaking her head.

“Bugia...” she corrected, playing with your hands so they would stop moving aimlessly.

“That's what I said, right?” you said with a frown.

She shook her head, leaning down to kiss you tenderly, also settling into that intimate position.

“Why did you want to know?” she asked, sighing, enjoying one of those rare moments, that romantic and close contact you always refused to give her because of your fears.

“Because you were lying…” you whispered mischievously, moving on her lap, pointing at her shamelessly with your finger, with a mocking tone. “You weren't looking at me.”

“Wasn’t I?” she joked, still smiling, amused by your behavior, by that brave and confident behavior that an accidental intake of wine gave you. “Well, what do you think I was looking at?”

You smiled, shifting in your position shyly, pointing at your cleavage.

“You were looking at my breasts… Don't try to deny it, Donna,” you said amused, with a sinister smile.

Donna opened her mouth to answer, but she didn't, she simply laughed embarrassed.

“Come on…” you whispered, giving a soft blow to her chest. “Confess…”

“(Y/N),” she said confused, studying your attitude again, watching how your hand gently caressed the exposed skin of your chest, making her look away quickly so you wouldn't notice. Late.

“Yes, I was looking at your… Your breasts,” she whispered with a broken voice, with a different sparkle in her eye.

“Do you like them?” you asked, blushing, but brave, fearful but determined. Blessed wine.

“Of course I like them, tesoro…” she murmured, clearing her throat, knowing that she could be a little more direct, understanding that your slight state of intoxication could be an advantage for her. “I like everything about you.”

“Do you want to see them?” you asked with a soft tone, with a childish smile, playing with the buttons that kept your modesty intact, for the moment. Donna opened her mouth again, but regretted the answer she could give, shaking her head.

“Um… I…” she stammered, shifting uncomfortably on the couch, hiding, without success, her own blush.

“Touch them, maybe? Come on, I'll let you do it...” you offered amused, taking her helpless hand, taking it to your chest, making it pass through your exposed skin, through your covered breasts.

“(Y/N), I...” she murmured confused, but distracted by the softness of your skin, unable to control the instinct to put her hand under your dress to caress one of your bare breasts while she gasped in pleasure, biting her lip.

“Mm... Your hands are soft,” you said with an angelic smile, while Donna continued with her caresses on your skin, exploring those corners unknown to her.

“You are so... Beautiful...” she whispered, playing with one of your nipples, observing your reaction, which only transmitted pleasure, comfort. “Doesn't it bother you?”

“No…” you gasped as her grip tightened, as her gaze darkened without you noticing, subtly undoing the buttons that kept the view of your torso out of her reach.

“Come,” she said, pushing you away from her lap as a cold breeze told you that you had lost those buttons, that your body was partially exposed and that… That turned you on.

Donna guided you onto her lap, so your legs rested on either side of her body as her hands ran down your bare back, as kisses began to touch your neck, making you gasp.

“What are you waiting for? Kiss me, now, Donna,” you joked, leaning towards her lips, taking her away from the work she was doing on your neck, from the soft scratches on your back. She smiled and sighed, studying the situation, checking that your gaze remained partially serene, that she wasn't going to do anything that you weren't aware of.

Yes, you were aware, but you couldn't deny that it was because of the wine, that the desire to love had reached your body through a slight intoxication. You didn't care. You liked the feeling of having her under your body, of feeling her hips moving while her lips devoured yours.

Your hands rested around her neck as you followed the rhythm of those wild kisses, of those hands that grabbed your skin, that enjoyed your bare legs, the pleasure of your uninhibitedness.

“I like it…” you purred comfortable in that sea of ​​kisses, of caresses, moving your body to keep pace with hers. She looked at you with a smile, nodding pleased as one of her hands began a path that always had an end, the upward path up your legs.

“You like it? I'm glad to hear it,” she whispered with a sensual voice, speaking in your ear, kissing you, biting you to distract you from her caresses closer and closer to the limit of your legs, closer and closer to the heat that now resided between them.

“Mm…” you moaned, pleased by that touch, by those wild and improvised kisses. Your hand didn’t move, your body didn’t contract at the touch of her fingers on your underwear, unconsciously wet. It was a terribly pleasurable sensation, completely new to you.

Donna sighed at being able to feel that part of your body, at feeling the desire you had for her to do it, that burning passion she didn't expect to get from you.

“Madonna… Sei così bagnata…” she whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe while her hand invaded your underwear, slipping in around the edges, gently feeling your desire, caressing your wetness slowly, without losing the rhythm of the kisses, of her eager hips.

You laughed, shaking your head, squinting to try to understand her words, something you couldn't do. Her smile spread when her fingers began to play with your clit, causing a high-pitched moan from you, but nothing like fear or shame.

“I don't know what you said, but keep going,” you joked, putting a finger on her nose while your body moved to the rhythm of her touch, of her caresses.

She laughed on your lips, gripping you firmly with her free hand, squeezing, feeling everything she couldn't do when sobriety brought your fear to light.

But, as if fate played a cruel joke on you, a terrible dream loomed over your head, the dizziness worsened, eclipsing much of the pleasure caused by her mischievous, soaked fingers, playing very close to your entrance.

A loud yawn replaced your erratic moans, your body collapsed on top of hers, gathered by her firm arms, with a gasp of surprise.

“Tesoro...” the lady in black sighed as you snuggled into the comfort of her chest, closing your eyes.

“I'm a bit sleepy,” you murmured, now free from those lascivious caresses, thinking only of sleeping, only of letting yourself be carried away by that sweet perfume, by the warmth and comfort of her body.

Donna sighed again, confused and frustrated, but she put her questions and complaints aside to gently stroke your head, relaxing her breathing.

“It's okay, amore mio…” she whispered in a soft voice, losing that erotic, sensual tone, to change it for a comprehensive, affectionate one. “I love you, (Y/N).”

You smiled at that statement, sighing comfortably, rubbing yourself against her chest.

“I… love you…” you said with a sleepy, weak voice. Donna moved you away, taking your face in her hands, looking at you with some concern.

“Come, let's take you to bed,” she said in a tender tone, lifting you from the couch while you rubbed your eyes, with a sad look.

“To your bed?” you asked sleepily. Donna stopped as she helped you walk, thoughtful. “I want to go to your bed…”

“Is that what you want? Do you want to sleep next to me?” she asked in a serious tone, studying the shine of your eyes, looking for the lie in your gaze. She couldn't find it, drunks don't lie.

“Yes…” you sighed, letting yourself fall on her body again, held by her arms. “But I want my pajamas… I can't sleep without pajamas…” you stammered, letting tiredness make you say those silly things.

Donna nodded, helping you sit back down on an armchair, checking your condition for the umpteenth time.

“Okay, tesoro, wait, wait here and I'll bring it to you, okay?” she said kindly, caressing your cheek. You took her hand, kissing it comically before you lost sight of her.

“What a show!” Angie shouted, appearing just to bother you, climbing onto your lap. “Go home, silly, you’re drunk.”

“Leave me alone,” you said with a childish pout, slapping your hands in the air to free yourself from the doll, who was laughing amusedly.

“Come on…” Donna whispered after a moment of you struggling not to fall asleep, gently tugging on your hand to help you up.

“Carry me, Donna… Please…” you said rubbing your eyes. Donna smiled, blinking in confusion and looked at the doll, who shrugged.

“What a fool…” the doll sighed, walking through the dining room while Donna complied with your wishes, maneuvering the clothes in her hand and picking you up in her arms. She was certainly a Lord. She could carry you with barely any effort.

“You're like my savior…” you whispered, holding onto her neck as she laughed amusedly, walking with you towards the elevator.

“No, you're mine,” she whispered affectionately.

That night you slept… Too well. Donna was considerate of you, kind, helping you undress, laying you down on the bed and, after a tender kiss on the forehead, covering you with the sheets after a tired sigh.

“Sleep well, principessa…”

That was the last thing you heard.

The next day started differently. Your head hurt, your body felt weak, but Donna's body hugging your waist was all you could ask for. At that moment you regretted not having agreed to share the bed sooner. It was a terribly romantic feeling.

Neither of you mentioned what had happened that night. You, of course, were terribly embarrassed but not enough to regret it. You wanted to do it, you needed to do it. It was fear and shyness that prevented you from doing so. There wasn't much time to talk about it either, as it was the day of the visit to the castle, of a quiet tea with her sister Alcina, and her daughters...

You weren't particularly keen on going near that place, the Lady and her offspring terrified you, although they seemed to have some kind of affection for you.

“Uno!” one of the Dimitrescu sisters said while you were playing a strange card game. Behind you, on some sofas, Donna and Alcina were chatting silently.

Perhaps you would have preferred to be there, and not with those three scandalous vampires, and Angie, of course.

“You're stupid, you still have two cards,” Daniela, her sister, protested, shaking her head. “Penalty for you.”

“Nonsense, I don't have two anymore, look,” Bela said, throwing back one of her cards, making the other two girls grunt.

“Come on, Donna's girlfriend, it's your turn,” Cassandra said, nudging you, drawing your attention from the tow women. You had heard your name. You knew they were talking about you.

“Of, of course,” you said, throwing a random card to the floor, infuriating Angie.

“What do you mean by four cards? Silly…” the doll protested, reluctantly picking up four cards from the pile, insulting you in a low voice.

“Mm, I feel sorry for you, dear…” you heard Alcina murmur with a soft laugh.

Donna murmured something, but she spoke so quietly that you couldn't hear it.

“Hey, silly! What are you looking at?” Angie snapped at you. You lowered your head, looking at the three sisters, who were determined to cheat, pretending that you didn't notice.

“Nothing…” you sighed, trying to stop listening to that conversation. Something you couldn't do.

“Don't tell me… how curious,” Lady Dimitrescu said, leaning back in the chair and looking at you out of the corner of her eye. You quickly looked away. “Maybe I can do something for you… Daniela!” she shrieked, drawing the attention of one of her daughters, who immediately stood up, dropping the cards she had hidden under her sleeves.

“Yes, mother,” she whispered obediently.

The lady in white gestured with her finger for her to approach the women. You followed her with your gaze.

“I'm going to win…” Bela said, rubbing her hands, in a mocking tone.

“Don't even dream about it,” her sister answered, throwing another card into the pile.

“Do you understand?” Alcina asked.

The girl nodded and returned to you, jumping comically.

“Well, well…” she said, dropping down beside you, shamelessly grabbing your shoulders, making you tremble in fear. “Hey, Donna's girlfriend, aren't you bored with this game?”

“N-No,” you stammered, with a fake smile. “It's, entertaining.”

“Bah… I'm sure you're bored of losing so much, it's normal, we're the queens of Uno,” the young Dimitrescu muttered, shaking you unpleasantly. “Besides, this is a game for children.”

“What are you talking about? Leave (Y/N) alone, Aunt Donna is going to get angry…” Cassandra whispered. She was the most… Sane… of them.

“Oh, I don't think so…” Daniela sighed mockingly. “Come on, let's play something different…”

The young vampire stood up towards a cupboard, from which she took out a bottle of wine and four small glasses.

“That again…” Angie muttered, crossing her arms indignantly.

“Let's play betting,” Daniela said, placing one of the glasses in front of each of you.

“No! Are you stupid? I was going to win…” Bela protested, throwing her remaining card into the pile.

“Shut up and do what I tell you,” Daniela said, pointing at you in a not-so-subtle way, and then at the lady in black with her head.

“Oh… Okay,” the girl said, calming down abruptly and sitting down again.

The game was simple. You just had to guess what number would come up on a dice. Whoever got it right, got away, whoever didn't, drank. Something similar to what you did with your friends in other times, much worse times.

“Drink!” the girls shouted, pointing at you mockingly. You didn't know how, but you did nothing but lose. The taste and the burning of the wine were present again in your throat.

“Everything okay, girls?” Alcina said, putting a hand on your shoulder with a sinister smile. You nodded effusively, licking the red liquid that was left on your lips.

“Yes, mother,” they said.

Angie had long since returned to her owner. It was not surprising, she couldn’t drink.

“Are you comfortable, dear? My daughters are not being unfair to you, are they?” the lady asked, with a soft tone, with a dark look, as if she were studying you.

“No, my… My lady,” you said, hiccupping involuntarily.

“Good…” she sighed, approaching the lady in black again, pointing at you, thinking that you had not noticed.

“You failed!” Cassandra rebuked you, refilling your glass. You shook your head, confused, not remembering that you had rolled the dice.

“What…? No…” you said with a frown nudging the young woman, feeling better, less scared, more… Confident, but not as much as the night before. That was the signal you had to stop drinking, the gradual disappearance of your shyness. “I don't want to play anymore, you're cheaters.”

The three of them gasped in unison, pretending to be offended while you stood up, sticking your tongue out at them with an evil smile.

“Tesoro, are you having fun?” Donna asked when you dropped down next to her, placing yourself between the two Ladies and leaning on her shoulder while nodding.

“Yes, but I don't think I'll be able to go home if I keep drinking,” you joked amused, much more aware of your actions than the other time, but with that confidence running through your body again. Smiling again, you kissed the lady in black, discreetly moving the fabric of her veil, leaving her confused.

“(Y/N)…” she protested, with a tone that betrayed a certain amusement. “My love, we are reunited.”

“Oh, don't be shy about me,” Alcina's soft voice said. There was something in her gaze that seemed suspicious to you, but you didn't give it any importance. “My dear, you liked art, didn't you?”

“Yes, very much, my lady,” you said with an enthusiastic voice, playing with the brunette's hand, which remained inert.

“Donna, why don't you show her the paintings I told you about?” the lady in white asked, studying your gestures on her sister's hand, the return of your erratic desire.

“Why don't you show them to me, my lady?” you asked with a sincere smile, making Donna pull her hand away, as if something you had said had bothered her.

Alcina laughed, rolling her eyes and pointing at her daughters, who began to fight fiercely, accusing each other of cheating.

“I have matters that need my attention, but I'm sure Donna will be a better guide than me, won't you, my dear?” she said in a husky voice, winking at the brunette, who stood up from the sofa, pulling your wrist roughly.

The two of you walked through the halls. You said absurd, funny things, trying to make Donna laugh. She didn't seem too happy, even rejecting your overly bold hand when you tried to join hers.

“Hey, what's wrong, Donna?” you asked, blinking in confusion, with the hot alcohol slowly disappearing from your head. Your confidence and lack of shyness didn’t fade.

“So you want my sister to show you the paintings,” she muttered furiously, turning suddenly.

“What?” you asked, holding back your laughter.

“What's wrong with you and alcohol? Do you become a cheeky girl? Does anything go when you've been drinking?”

“I-I don't know what you're talking about, Donna…” you whispered worriedly. She groaned, moving away from you.

“It was Alcina's idea,” she hissed. “I thought, I thought that if you drank some wine I… I could, we could do… You know, the same as yesterday.”

“Oh…” you sighed confused, unable to contain your laughter. “Did you get me drunk to take advantage of me? That's not right…” you hummed.

“I don't want to take advantage of you,” she said, with a brusque tone, coming closer again. “I just want, I want you to… Lose that absurd fear you have of sex,” she admitted, leaving you glued to the floor.

“By drinking,” you said, narrowing your eyes, finding that situation more and more exciting.

“Yes, I… I don't know how to make you understand that I don't want to hurt you, that I want, I want to make you feel good and you're always running away, always…”

You decided to interrupt her with a kiss, a passionate and unexpected one, removing the black fabric and grabbing her waist.

“I'm sorry, Donna… I'm very shy,” you said in a calmer tone.

“When are you going to understand that you have nothing to be ashamed of with me?” the lady protested, running away from your hold.

“Hey, I, I appreciate you trying to help me, really,” you whispered in a soft voice, with that evil laugh disappearing from your face.

“It hasn't helped,” she said, crossing her arms. “Instead of getting brave, you hit on my sister.”

You laughed again, shaking your head.

“Oh…” you said, approaching mischievously, grabbing the lady in black from behind. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” she said dryly, without moving from your grip.

“Oh, yes, yes you are,” you joked, tickling her waist, causing sudden movements and a nervous laugh from the brunette.

“Stop,” she said laughing, holding your arms so you wouldn't continue.

“Come on, Donna, you know I only love you…” you said with a more seductive tone, approaching slowly, running a finger along her dress. “Come, I'll show you.”

“What, what are you doing?” Donna asked, while you gently pushed her against the wall, with an idea in your mind, one that, if it weren't for the wine, you would never have dared to do.

“Shhh. Let me show you how daring I can be,” you said amused, aware that the effect of the wine was no longer guiding your actions.

But Donna didn't know that, and that gave you the confidence you lacked.

With an expectant gasp, you lowered yourself to the floor, kneeling, passing your hands under the black fabric of her dress. She became nervous, stopping you with both hands on your wrists.

“Stay still, what are you going to...?” she asked, stepping back when she saw your bright eyes, sighing and looking both ways.

With an amused laugh, you traveled under her dress, kissing her legs, caressing them. You didn't want to miss the opportunity to give Donna some pleasure, to show her that you could do it, that you wanted to do it.

“Hey, hey…”she protested when your lips began to kiss her skin, moving up her legs, hidden under her dress, with a clear intention, which none of her protests could avoid. “No…”

Her protests changed, they turned into moans when you got too close, when your lips kissed the wet fabric of her underwear and your fingers pulled its edges down.

“I think you want it…” you said amused, slowly kissing her wetness and enjoying the taste of her arousal. “Donna, you are delicious…”

“Shut up,” she scolded you, involuntarily moving her hips against you while your tongue sank into her folds, causing discreet moans from the lady.

You moaned from the pleasure of her reaction, from the fear you had of being discovered, from that new feeling of liberation, of the definitive loss of your fear.

Your tongue ran over her wet flesh, caressing it slowly, savoring every grunt, every moan it provoked. Your hand joined in that massage, remembering how she stimulated you the night before, repeating the same movements she did, now on her clit.

“Cazzo…” the brunette sighed, overwhelmed by your shamelessness, by your impure actions, unthinkable for you. “Keep, keep going…”

You smiled, speeding up your movements, enjoying her tremors, with her hand tangled in your hair, with her hips dancing to the sound of your kisses.

It didn't take much more time for the brunette to arch her body, for her excitement to soak your face, for her taste to be everything you felt, and wanted to feel.

“Get up, get up,” she said hastily, without having recovered from that orgasm, one that the shy and embarrassed (Y/N) gave her. “You're crazy.”

“Don't you like the new me?” you said, licking your lips, kissing her passionately, causing her to moan again.

She pushed you away and looked at you with her veil moved by passion, shaking her head.

“If it's just because of the wine, I would…”she murmured in a sad voice. You shook your head again.

“It's not because of the wine, Donna. There is no liquor more addictive than your kisses…”

[adventure-showdown]

What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

synopses and propaganda under the cut

Scherzo

Synopsis

Once upon a time...

There were two friends, and together they travelled the cosmos. They thwarted tyrants and defeated monsters, they righted wrongs wherever they went. They explored the distant future and the distant past, new worlds and galaxies, places beyond imagining.

But every good story has to come to an end.

With no times or places left to explore, all the two friends have now are each other. But maybe that's one voyage too many. Maybe they'll discover things they'd rather have left undisturbed... hidden away in the suffocating, unfeeling, deafening brightness.

Once upon a time. Far, far away.

Propaganda

It’s a great and fucked up dissection of the Doctor and Charley’s relationship, with a healthy dose of body horror (anonymous)

you will never look at the handshake emoji the same way again (october)

Really creative concept. Puts 8 and Charley into a situation where they have to confront their relationship and what they mean to each other while dealing with an incredibly engaging creature. I can't name an audio that suits the medium better and Ive been consuming Big Finish at an alarming rate. Also noises™️ (anonymous)

Midnight

Synopsis

The Tenth Doctor and Donna Noble go to the leisure planet of Midnight for a simple, relaxing holiday. However, life with the Doctor can never be that simple, and things go horribly wrong for the Doctor when he decides to go off on a bus trip to see the Sapphire Waterfall, starting with the bus shutting down. When a mysterious entity infiltrates the shuttle bus, no one is to be trusted. Not even the Doctor himself...

Propaganda

Midnight is amazing. So thrilling. The monster was human fear and it cost the life of two innocent women. (plus two men on accident, well, more or less) And we never know what the midnight entity was. Perfect. My absolute favourite episode. The best thing is that it tricks you into liking the passengers before it slowly, slowly turns that into horror of what they're capable of. Chills every time. (Plus it's totally what inspired among us if you ask me) (anonymous)

[horeformilfs]

Lullaby

Donna Beneviento x Fem!Reader

TW: Depression

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

Lady Dimitrescu, adorned in her regal attire, glided through the ornate halls of Castle Dimitrescu with her customary grace. As the mistress of the grand estate, she was accustomed to the daily routines that unfolded within its walls. Yet, on this particular morning, there was an unsettling absence that cast a shadow upon her usual composure.

Y/N, her devoted personal maiden, had failed to attend to her duties. Alcina Dimitrescu, though initially unperturbed by the absence, couldn't shake the nagging sense of unease that settled within her chest. She dismissed it at first, attributing Y/N's absence to a minor inconvenience, perhaps a fleeting illness or an errand that required immediate attention.

However, as the sun climbed higher in the sky, and the hours stretched on, Alcina's concern morphed into a palpable worry. Y/N was a fixture in her life, a steady presence that had become intertwined with the fabric of her existence over the past four years. The thought of her sudden disappearance sent tendrils of apprehension snaking through Alcina's mind.

Summoning her daughters, Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela, Alcina gathered them in her chambers, her expression betraying the gravity of the situation. "Have any of you seen Y/N today?" she inquired, her voice tinged with a hint of urgency.

The sisters exchanged glances, their brows furrowed in confusion. "No, Mother," Bela replied, her tone laced with concern. "We haven't seen her since yesterday evening."

Alcina's heart sank at the confirmation of Y/N's prolonged absence. A sense of foreboding settled over her, casting a shadow upon the opulent surroundings of her chamber. Y/N's disappearance was an anomaly, a disruption in the carefully choreographed dance of their lives within the castle walls.

Determined to unravel the mystery shrouding Y/N's whereabouts, Alcina resolved to scour every corner of the castle until she found her. With each passing moment, her worry deepened, fueling her determination to reunite with her beloved Y/N and uncover the truth behind her sudden disappearance.

Alcina's concern deepened as she stood in the threshold of Y/N's chamber, her gaze fixated on the figure lying motionless upon the bed. With each passing moment of silence, her apprehension grew, mingling with a sense of helplessness that threatened to consume her.

"Y/N," Alcina called out softly, her voice carrying a note of apprehension. "Is everything alright?"

Y/N's response was barely a whisper, her words devoid of their usual warmth and vitality. "I'm fine," she murmured, her voice hollow and distant.

Alcina's heart clenched at the lackluster response, a gnawing unease settling in the pit of her stomach. She took a step closer, her gaze searching Y/N's form for any sign of distress or discomfort. But Y/N remained unmoved, her back still turned to Alcina, her presence distant and detached.

Unable to suppress her growing concern, Alcina pressed further. "You don't seem yourself, my dear. Is there something troubling you?"

Y/N's reply was curt, her tone devoid of emotion. "I said I'm fine, Lady Dimitrescu. Please, don't worry about me."

But Alcina could not shake the feeling of disquiet that lingered in the air, a palpable tension that seemed to suffuse the very walls of the chamber. With a heavy heart, she retreated from Y/N's bedside, her thoughts consumed by worry and uncertainty.

Determined to uncover the truth behind Y/N's sudden change in demeanor, Alcina made her way to her study, the weight of concern pressing heavily upon her shoulders. With trembling hands, she reached for the ornate telephone that adorned her desk, her fingers tracing the familiar contours with a sense of urgency.

Dialing the familiar number, she waited with bated breath as the line connected, her heart pounding in her chest. When Donna's voice echoed through the receiver, Alcina wasted no time in conveying her fears, her words tumbling forth in a rush of urgency and desperation.

"Donna," she began, her voice betraying the tremor of anxiety that gripped her. "It's Y/N... something's wrong."

As Donna's voice emanated from the other end of the line, Alcina hastily recounted the peculiar behavior exhibited by Y/N—her listless demeanor, the vacant responses, the unsettling silence that hung in the air. Donna listened attentively, her intuition sharpened by the connection she shared with Y/N over the past seven months.

Alcina could sense the gravity of the situation in Donna's measured response. "Alcina, I know what's happening with Y/N. I'll be at the castle soon," Donna assured her, her voice a soothing balm to Alcina's troubled soul.

Relief mingled with curiosity as Alcina pressed further, "Is there anything I can do to help? I'm worried about her."

Donna's response carried a gentle but firm tone. "Alcina, this is something very personal to Y/N. She may not want anyone else to know. When I arrive, I'll handle it. Just give us some space, alright? It's Y/N's choice whether she wants to share this with you or not."

A mixture of understanding and concern settled within Alcina. While her instinct was to protect and care for Y/N, she respected the boundaries that Donna was urging her to recognize. Nodding, albeit in solitude, Alcina acknowledged Donna's request. "Very well, Donna. I'll await your arrival, and I'll respect Y/N's wishes."

Donna entered Y/N's chamber with a quiet determination, her presence a comforting anchor amidst the swirling uncertainty that enveloped the room. Alcina watched from the doorway, her gaze fixated on the delicate interplay unfolding between Donna and Y/N.

Removing her veil with practiced grace, Donna approached Y/N's bedside with cautious steps, mindful of not startling the young maiden. With a softness in her voice that bespoke of both empathy and authority, Donna knelt before Y/N, her eyes meeting hers with unwavering compassion.

"Dolcezza," Donna murmured, her voice a gentle reassurance. "It's me. You're safe."

Y/N's gaze flickered briefly, a flicker of recognition dancing in her eyes before the veil of despondency once again descended upon her features. Donna's heart ached at the sight, her resolve strengthened by the urgency of the moment.

"What's troubling you, my love?" Donna inquired softly, her words a soothing melody in the midst of Y/N's turmoil.

Y/N's response was barely a whisper, her voice tinged with a sense of resignation. "I... I'm not sure. Everything feels... heavy."

Donna nodded understandingly, her gaze never wavering from Y/N's troubled countenance. "Let's start with something simple. What have you eaten today?"

Y/N's reply was barely audible, her voice hollow and distant. "Nothing."

Donna's heart sank at the admission, a pang of concern coursing through her veins. "Would you like to take a bath, dolcezza?" she offered gently, her words imbued with a tender concern for Y/N's well-being.

Y/N nodded slowly, her movements sluggish and hesitant. "Yes, but... I don't know if I can..."

Donna reached out, her touch feather-light as she wiped away a solitary tear that trailed down Y/N's cheek. "Shh, it's alright, my love. I'm here to help you," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm to Y/N's fractured spirit.

With each word, Donna sought to chip away at the walls that surrounded Y/N's heart, offering solace and support in equal measure. As she cradled Y/N's trembling form in her arms, Donna vowed to guide her through the darkness, to stand by her side until the shadows receded and the light of hope shone once more.

As Donna lifted Y/N's slight frame in her arms, a sense of tender determination filled her heart. With careful steps, she carried Y/N to the spacious bathroom adjacent to her chamber, Alcina's watchful gaze following their path.

"I'll take care of her, Alcina," Donna reassured, her voice a soft murmur that echoed through the silent halls. "I'll check in with you later."

With a nod of acknowledgment, Alcina retreated from the doorway, leaving Donna to tend to Y/N's needs. With practiced ease, Donna set about preparing the bath, the warm water filling the marble tub with a soothing embrace.

Guiding Y/N into the water, Donna's touch was gentle yet firm, her movements a symphony of care and compassion. She washed away the traces of distress that clung to Y/N's skin, her fingers working diligently to ease the burden that weighed heavily upon her heart.

As she rinsed the soap from Y/N's hair, Donna's voice filled the air, a melodic whisper that seemed to chase away the shadows of despair. With each stroke of the brush, she unravel the knots of tension that had ensnared Y/N's spirit, her touch a tender caress against the backdrop of uncertainty.

Once Y/N was cleansed and refreshed, Donna wrapped her in a plush towel, the soft fabric cocooning her in a comforting embrace. From the array of garments adorning Y/N's chamber, Donna selected a set of clean clothes, dressing her with a delicate touch.

With each movement, Donna's care was palpable, her presence a beacon of solace in the midst of Y/N's turmoil. She gently brushed and braided Y/N's hair, her fingers weaving a tapestry of comfort and reassurance.

Returning Y/N to her bed, Donna tucked her beneath the covers, her gaze tender as she met Y/N's weary eyes. "Are you comfortable, dolcezza?" she inquired softly, her voice a gentle murmur in the quiet of the chamber.

Y/N nodded, a small smile gracing her lips as she reached out for Donna's hand. "Will you stay with me?" she whispered, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

As Donna settled beside Y/N, she gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, her touch light and tender. "Rest now, amore mio," she whispered, her voice a soothing murmur in the quiet of the chamber. "I will be here with you."

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed, her breathing steady as she nestled closer to Donna's warmth. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

With a soft smile, Donna began to sing, her voice a lilting melody that filled the room with a sense of peace. The Italian lullaby flowed from her lips, its words carrying a timeless rhythm that lulled Y/N into a gentle slumber.

"La nanna della luna, Che fa sognare il cuor, Con le stelle come lacrime, Che cadono dal ciel." (The lullaby of the moon, That makes the heart dream, With stars like tears, That fall from the sky.)

As Donna's voice wove its enchanting spell, Y/N's breathing grew deep and even, her features relaxed in the embrace of sleep. With each verse, Donna's touch became a tender caress, her hand tracing soothing patterns along Y/N's back as they drifted into the realm of dreams together.

In the quiet of the night, their bond transcended words, their hearts entwined in a symphony of love and solace. And as the lullaby faded into the gentle hum of the night, Donna held Y/N close, her presence a testament to the enduring strength of their connection.

In that moment, amidst the stillness of the chamber, they found solace in each other's arms, their souls bound together by the unbreakable threads of love and devotion. And as dawn broke upon the horizon, casting its golden light upon the world outside, they knew that no matter what trials may come, they would face them together, united in their unwavering commitment to one another.

As Y/N succumbed to the embrace of sleep, Donna held her close, her presence a steadfast anchor amidst the turbulent sea of uncertainty. In the embrace of the night, they found solace in each other's arms, their bond a beacon of hope in the darkness.

Meanwhile, Alcina returned to Y/N's chamber, her steps light as she approached the closed door. Peering inside, she beheld the tender tableau before her—Donna cradling Y/N in her arms, the soft strains of a lullaby drifting through the air.

A small smile graced Alcina's features as she quietly closed the door, a sense of gratitude warming her heart. In that moment, she knew that Y/N was in good hands, her struggles tempered by the unwavering support of those who cherished her most.

With a sense of peace settling over her, Alcina made her way back to her study, her thoughts filled with hope for Y/N's recovery and gratitude for the steadfast presence of Donna in their lives.

[team-avia]

First off I love this game. I am extremely grateful to all of you for making it❤️. I have played all the routes in a row(with the guide cause I sure as 💩 wasn’t going to hurt any of our girlies feelings or mine) and loved the romance and mystery/Horror in all of them. Lost sleep but it was totally worth it😌.

Second: I reject the time loop cause I want more than 2 years you guys give to the canon. I will live in the delulu till further notice.

Thirdly my question: I have read all the lore sheets and read the routes as carefully as I possibly could, but a reason was never given as to why Donna and Bela were the only ones to have the ability to regain their memories of past time loops, so my question is how could they remember? 🧐

Btw send my appreciation to your artist for drawing Dani, Donna, and Bela like THAT 😳🫡🫣. Gives me butterflies, damn.

Actually, I answered (or well...hinted) this in an ask, but essentially, it all comes down to simple math. Whose is greater?

In the case of Donna, her will is stronger than Miranda's will because hers isn't shaken by failure and impending insanity but rather strengthened by the pain. The trauma is dealt with reinforcingly rather than debilitatingly. She is literally willing herself to not forget like my girl is straight up manifesting it for herself. She wills it so hard that it's practically impossible to manually make her forget

For Bela, her soul is stronger than Miranda's because her soul is technically new. It doesn't hold all the breaks that the 19th Miranda's does, because 19th has lived far longer than intended, and it has withered through her Illicit deals. As well as this, I also pointed out previously (a loooooong time ago) that I had gone through outlining the reincarnation lore with the intent that Bela was supposed to be 20th- or MCs soulmate. So, her soul is literally incapable of forgetting MC without severe outside interference, which only works because, on a fundamental level, Bela does not want to remember the cycles of violence and pain because it hurts her.

Cinder

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine joining the Doctor on a trip in the most reckless way...

"The Sapphire Waterfall?" You repeated, slowing your walk towards Donna. "Did he say Sapphire Waterfall?"

"Yeah, why?" Donna wondered, taking a sip of her drink. You halted and gasped in excitement. Starting to trek backwards, you pointed at Donna.

"Call him back and tell him to wait!" You instructed, leaving your friend confused as you bolted in the opposite direction. Running through the hotel, you zoomed past people and aliens until you reached the train bay.

You realised that you didn't ask Donna which dock the Doctor was standing at and felt your heart sink knowing that you were going to miss an incredible sight.

The shuttle to Sapphire Waterfall is now boarding to close on Dock 6.

The overhead voice announced and you counted your lucky stars for this information. Looking above, your saw the red sign for Dock 6 less than a metre away. Sprinting forward, you recognised the Doctor's brown coat flying with the wind just outside the door to a shuttle that was slowly leaving.

He was looking forward, in the direction that the ship was going before disappearing back inside - the door luckily still open. You considered calling for him but it be a waste of energy. You ran along the edge of the platform, building up speed and lined yourself up with the doors. The platform was coming to an end so you took in a deep breath before taking a leap of faith and jumped off - headed straight for the door.

Mistake. This whole thing was a mistake.

You cursed yourself for doing something so stupid and knew that this was only going to end one way: you were going to hit the side of the shuttle and fall to your death. Just as your made peace with fate, a hand fastened itself around your wrist and pulled you into the ship. You propelled forward and smacked into a chest with a familiar scent as the shuttle door sealed shut.

"Hello there." Ten whispered mysteriously keeping his hands on you to maintain balance. "Couldn't resist some alone time with me?"

You laughed at the sound of his voice and looked up at his charming face complete with big brown eyes. You snaked your hands around his shoulders and leaned forward for a kiss until the Air Hostess appeared into view and knocked on the wall gently.

"May I advise you that all passengers are required to take their seats before we leave the facility." She informed.

The Doctor cleared his throat and nodded, giving the hostess her cue to leave. You pulled on Ten's tie gently and smiled.

"We should get going."

~ More imagines here ~

A/n: 60th Anniversary here we come! PSA - unless the Doctor is going to catch you, pls don't jump off alien platforms x

[jackles010378]

Regarding Y/n

What if it was you that got hit with the memory loss spell instead of dean? Dean and Sam try everything to cure you....

(Dean winchester x y/n)

In the quiet town of Lebanon, Dean and Sam, were grappling with a challenge unlike any other they had faced before. It began when y/n Dean's girlfriend jumped in front of him to shield him and accidentally became the victim of a powerful memory loss spell.

Dean paced back and forth in the bunker, his heart heavy with concern "I frickin hate witches" he yelled. He couldn't bear the thought of y/n forgetting him and the time they had spent together. She was the love of his life, and the idea of being a stranger to her was tearing him apart.

Desperate for a solution, Dean picked up his phone and dialed Rowena's number. The powerful witch, usually a source of knowledge and assistance, was the only hope he had left. But to his dismay, Rowena informed him that she had encountered this particular spell only once before and had been unable to find an antidote.

Left with no other choice, Dean set off on a mission to locate the witch responsible for casting the memory loss spell. Sam stood by his side, ready to help his brother however he could. He didn't want to leave y/n on her own so he phoned Jody and Donna, both women dropping everything to come be with y/n, the women that once saved their lives. Dean knew it would be a treacherous journey, fraught with danger and uncertainty.

Their first lead led them to a small town on the outskirts of Kansas. The locals spoke of a mysterious woman who had recently arrived and possessed unique magical abilities. Dean and Sam tracked her down and demanded answers.

The witch, Lilya, revealed that she had cast the spell under the command of a rogue coven, seeking to eliminate any traces of supernatural interference in their lives. The coven had brainwashed her, exploiting her powers for their nefarious purposes.

Determined to help y/n restore her memories, Dean and Sam convinced Lilya to guide them to the coven's hideout. They ventured into the heart of the forest, where dark magic permeated the air. The brothers had faced countless supernatural threats in the past, but this felt different. This time, their objective was not to destroy evil, but to save their loved one.

As they delved deeper into the hidden lair, Dean and Sam encountered a series of increasingly complex traps and spells meant to deter intruders. But nothing could stop their unwavering resolve. They fought through every obstacle, leaving no stone unturned.

Finally, they reached the inner sanctum, where the coven gathered to harness their powers. A battle ensued, the sound of spells reverberating through the room. Dean fought with all his might, his motivation fueled by the love he harbored for y/n.

In the midst of the chaos, Sam managed to find the original witch, the one responsible for casting the memory loss spell. Power crackled in her fingertips as she prepared to attack. But Sam, quicker than lightning, intercepted her, overpowering her with sheer determination.

With the threat eliminated, Dean rushed back to y/n, trembling with anticipation. He held his breath as he recited the reversal incantation he had discovered during the fight. And as the words left his lips, a surge of energy enveloped y/n, her eyes widening with recognition. After the spell she passed out. Sam Jody and Donna looked on, panic set in their faces. Dean picked her up off the sofa and carried her to their bedroom. He lay her gently on the bed fearing the worst.

A few days had passed and Dean was getting worried, but then she whispered his name as her eyes fluttered open, "Dean." Relief flooded through him, as though a weight had been lifted from his heart. y/n's memories returned, washing over her like a tidal wave. She held onto Dean, tears of joy and relief streaming down both their faces.

From that day forward, Dean and y/n cherished every moment they spent together. The experience taught them the importance of love, resilience, and the unbreakable bond they shared. And amidst the chaos of their hunter lives, they never took a single memory for granted again.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @angelbabyyy99

[ectomoog]

How to Get Your Friends into Doctor Who (2005) - A Guide

Ok I really like Doctor Who, and of course I like introducing people to it, but oh my god do you forget how randomly terrible and/or cringy and/or uncomfortably Moffat-esque some of the episodes are, *especially* when you're watching it with someone who has no idea what to expect.

SO I made a list of ten episodes that I think would be the best loose sequence of episodes for a causal introduction to the show...

But first, some requirements:

It has to be a one-off (NO TWO-PARTERS), low commitment, etc

It can't require watching previous OR following episodes to be enjoyable

It needs to actually be good

It needs to represent Doctor Who well

In a social setting where you're showing a group of people an episode, most of these would be fine. Watching consistently with one person however, loosely follow this order, and if your person decides at any point that they want to commit to actually watching the show, skip straight back to The End of The World and watch Series 1. Ok list time...

1. Rose (S1, E01)

I think Rose is the perfect episode of Doctor Who to start on. It's campy, it's fun and weird and it sets up almost everything you need to know for the Revival Era. You get the companion, the Doctor, regular Doctor Who tropes and themes, etc. Plus, if they can't get past the Mickey bin scene, this show probably isn't for them anyway.

2. Dalek (S1, E06)

Skipping a few episodes into Series 1, Dalek is a great way to get a feel for the format of the show, and also a great and intentional introduction to the Daleks. The Doctor and the companion turn up in a mysterious place and have to battle an alien force and really unlikeable one-off side characters, the works basically. It's a fun monster-movie of an episode.

3. Vincent and The Doctor (S5,E10)

Jumping a whole five series forward, Vincent and The Doctor is a notoriously heart-wrenching historical that I think is a classic (if a little indulgent) example of Doctor-meets-famous-historical-figure. It's nice to jump to a different Doctor and a different era of the show, to get a feel for its' diversity. Although there's a few moments relevant to the greater series plot, it's contained, very pretty, very sweet, and easy to understand.

4. Midnight (S4, E10)

Midnight just feels like an essential episode to be honest. A fantastic one-off sci-fi horror/thriller, with one of David Tennant's best performances, a great introduction to the 10th Doctor. It's a shame you don't get more Donna, but I think this one would be my go-to if someone asked for the best episode to watch stand-alone, just based on how genuinely great it is.

5. Heaven Sent (S9, E11)

Jumping to Series 9 with another critically-acclaimed episode, but also one that I think is an amazing introduction to the 12th Doctor. Heaven Sent is a little unconventional, and I'm not 100% sure it should be here, but it does give Capaldi a whole episode to just act his ass off, and he completely delivers. It's artsy, mysterious and dramatic, very much the high concept sci-fi style of Moffat's later scripts, so I think an appropriate watch.

6. The Voyage of The Damned (2007 Special)

If you're not in a festive mood, try The Lodger or Demons of the Punjab instead

The Christmas episodes are too iconic not to show, and as far as Christmassy vibes, celebrity cameos and whimsical concepts go, this one is a fun one. This is David Tennant in his prime, with Kylie Minogue, a massive budget and a romp of a script.

6. Blink (S3, E10)

I mean, duh, but genuinely I think Blink is just *too good* not to include. A tense, creepy, tightly-written piece of horror TV with twists and turns and drama, it's considered the best episode of Doctor Who for a reason, and along with Midnight is an amazing stand-alone episode. It's not super conventional, but all the timey-wimey stuff is very Doctor Who.

6. The Mummy on The Orient Express (S8, E08)

If you're a Tennant stan you could swap this out for The Planet of the Dead

This one is just a fun one really. The Mummy on The Orient Express is stylish and fun, with a cool concept and a little peek into a more complex Doctor-companion relationship. With a short explanation you can get the context pretty easily, and it's a good example of your typical episode anyway.

HOWEVER if you have time, there's a bunch of two-parters you should watch instead, like The Family of Blood, The Empty Child, Silence in the Library, even Extremis.

9. The Haunting of Villa Diodati (S12, E10)

Finally some 13th Doctor rep! This one has some of the strongest writing in the Chibnall era, and is a fun horror mystery that serves as a fun introduction to Jodie Whittaker as the 13th Doctor. It has a little bit of series-wide arc, but that's okay.

10. The Church on Ruby Road (2023 Special 4)

If your person liked all those episodes but still doesn't want to watch 13 seasons of TV, just abandon ship and watch the 2023 Christmas special in preparation for Series 14 (or Season 1) in Spring 2024. The Church on Ruby Road is the beginning of the latest soft reboot of the show and has been explicitly created as a jumping on point for new fans. Ncuti Gatwa and Millie Gibson absolutely shine in this special, it's fun and silly and in my opinion bodes very well for the next season of Doctor Who...

"in 900 years of time and space, I've never met anyone who wasn't important" - Bannakaffalatta

I hope that was a success! After all those episodes hopefully you either had a good time with whoever you were watching it with, or you've already moved onto Series 1! I'll be trying this out the best I can with my girlfriend this year, so look out, because I may be back with adjustments later...

[lokisprettygirl]

Brokenhearted (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern AU) (18+)

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Summary: Ever since you met him there was an undeniable attraction between you two but you knew he wasn't the type of man you ever wanted or dreamt of ending up with. He was distant, emotionally unavailable and reclusive. There was something in his past that had destroyed his ability to show love, he was as toxic as he was irresistible and you couldn't stop wanting him no matter how bad he was for you.

Warning: 18+, there's no actual detailed smut scene but they are doing it, dirty words are used in bed (consent is given), Reader almost gets raped, Daemon is a big time smoker so if it's something triggering don't read it, he's not the best boyfriend, alcohol drinking, mention of trauma and therapy, cigarette smoking, possessive behaviour

"Be careful y/n" Your manager Donna said to you so you smiled and wished her goodnight as you hurried out of the restaurant, as a sous chef you normally didn't work past your shift but it was an extremely busy day, the head chef needed you and you were making extra bucks so you weren't really in a position to say no.

It was around 10 at night and you knew you would miss the next bus unless you reached the bus stop in 5 minutes so you turned around and tried to take a shortcut via the alley behind the restaurant. It was never a good idea, your gut feeling warned you but you didn't stop. And you were about to learn a very important lesson.

When you took the first turn to the right you noticed a few men smoking and drinking down there and as soon as they had spotted you they started to talk amongst themselves while they kept their eyes on you, you also saw another man way on the other end of the next turn you had to take but he was all alone, smoking and he had a black hoodie on and the headgear covered half of his face, you weren't really able to make out his features, he was still a few feet away from where you were and unlike these men who screamed trouble he was minding his own business.

"Hey sweetie, how much for the night?" One of the goons commented so you picked up your strides and started to walk a little faster.

"Heyyy come on babygirl, come with us, we will have fun"

Now you felt really scared, you couldn't really turn around now because you knew they were right behind you and you didn't want to show them how unnerved you were feeling, a part of you still felt that these men were just eve-teasing and won't really harm you but truth couldn't have been further from that.

A guy jumped in front of you suddenly as he closed the distance between you two and all of a sudden you felt as if you won't be able to breathe any more, your heart sped up and knees started to buckle. What had you gotten yourself into?

"Let her go mate" you heard a male voice coming from ten feet away, it was deep and raspy, it was the same lonely guy you had seen and he had his attention directed towards you now.

"Hey man you got a problem??" the guy in front of you turned towards the hooded stranger.

"Not really , I'm just asking you all to piss off and let the lady leave" as soon as you heard his voice again you quickly ran towards him and stood by his side, for some reason you felt as if you could trust him, well atleast more than those guys that were clearly trying to hurt you.

"Oh you think you're some kind of hero around here huh?"

Your mystery knight just laughed at the response and then he turned towards you.

"Get out of hereee" he finally pulled his headgear up and you looked into his dark eyes, he took a step back from you and he got frustrated as you still haven't moved from your spot "Get the fuck out lady" he said to you so you immediately turned around and bolted away but as you heard the sounds of those goons attacking him you just couldn't help but turn again, you didn't want anyone to get hurt or killed because of you.

You had your face scrunched in worry because you fully expected to see the guy getting beaten up by all those goons but your eyes widened in surprise as your mystery guy started to punch the shit out of those guys one by one. Almost like a professional fighter.

You were slightly enchanted by his rhythmic moves as he dodged their attacks and then hit them strategically. His hoodie was off now and you could clearly see how jacked he was, the black shirt he had on was clinging to his body and you also noticed how pretty he was in a very untraditional distinctive way. This clearly wasn't the time to think about all that but you couldn't help.

One guy even attacked him with a knife but your knight was faster than him, you watched those goons finally give up and run out of the alley once they realised they weren't winning against him, thankfully they didn't have a gun. You watched as your knight wiped the blood from his lips and combed his hair back with his fingers before he took out another cigarette and started to smoke as if nothing really had happened.

"Do you have a deathwish you foolish girl? I told you to leave" he said as he grabbed his hoodie from the floor and walked past you in a few strides.

"Ummm that was impressive, are you like a boxer or something?" you asked as you walked behind him, his apartment was right around the block and he just wanted to go home now but as he noticed you were trying to talk to him so he stopped walking and turned towards you.

"Taking this route late at night is unwise, you must know that right? You aren't dressed like a street harlot so that means you're just plain stupid aren't you?" You gasped as he insulted you in several different ways. Why was he being so mean?

"First of all I am not stupid, I just didn't want to miss my bus.. and i have a pepper spray" you tried to defend your decision even though you knew you shouldn't have taken this route.

"Oh yeah? And at what point were you going to use it?" He chuckled in an extremely condescending manner, he had a cute smile but you could tell it wasn't genuine. You weren't actually stupid.

"I just wanted to say thank you to you for protecting me ..you are hurt, you should get that checked out" you said softly so he glared at you for a moment before his features softened.

"Don't take this route ever again miss –"

"Y/n.. i work for the restaurant Cuisine waves..on the next block " He nodded as you said that and chuckled before he dragged a puff from his cigarette and turned around to leave.

He didn't even tell you his name, you didn't even know if you'll ever see him again, it was unlikely and almost impossible but you didn't know why you felt so drawn towards him, he seemed so.. broody and broken. Why was he out there, smoking all alone? The worst part was you had missed the bus that you wanted to take so badly that you didn't think even twice before putting yourself in danger.

At night as you laid down in your bed, safe, thanks to the rude mysterious knight you couldn't help but think about the mystery knight, he saved your life, he really did, you didn't even want to think about what could have happened to you if he wasn't there.

At first glance you thought he was just another homeless bum in the alley but he wasn't. You had noticed the British accent as well and you wondered if he was even from NYC.

"Stop thinking moron" you grumbled and tried to fall asleep, but it didn't come easy that night, you kind of felt scared about the situation you had gotten yourself in due to your reckless behaviour, it was traumatizing to think about what could have happened to you tonight. You needed to talk to your therapist about this sooner or later.

Next day the restaurant had a fairly easy day and you couldn't have been happier,

"A Cheese Burger for table 6 and the customer also wants for a chilled beer" the attending waitress Claire said so you nodded and started to prepare the order, once it was done you quickly put the order for the pick up,

"He's so damnn cute" Claire winked at you so you smiled, you didn't really have much today and your shift was almost over so you walked towards the door and peeked to see this supposedly cute guy. For Claire every other guy was cute so you weren't really expecting to see much but your eyes widened in shock as you saw the man from last night, your mystery knight. What was he doing there?

You clearly remembered telling him that you worked here.

He didn't come to see you right? Maybe he just lived nearby.

You didn't want to come across as desperate so you didn't really do anything about it. Once your shift was over you grabbed your bag, changed your clothes and stepped outside the restaurant, on the other side of the street you saw him again. Casually smoking, looking sexy as fuck.

You crossed the road and walked past him, you had no intention of disturbing him again but you stopped in your tracks as you heard his voice,

"You said you worked there" you smiled as he said that. So he was there for you.

"I do..I'm the Sous Chef, Mr. Cheese Burger" you turned around and he just stared at you as he took another drag from his cigarette, he passed the cigarette to you and tilted his head in a way to gesture you to take a hit. You took a few steps closer to him and he smelled so good, a hint of burnt smoke, beer and bergamot.

Taking the cigarette from his fingers you took a drag, perhaps he wasn't really expecting you to accept it because his mouth curved into a smile at the sight.

"You looked like a waitress to me" he looked into your eyes as he said that, you should have been offended by his words but the way he was looking at you so intensely made you feel flushed.

"So what should I call you? Do you have a name or Mr. Cheese Burger is fine?" He chuckled as you said that,

"Daemon..Daemon Targaryen" you nodded as he said that, his face went well with his name. It sounded posh like him.

"How do you make a living Daemon..I'm sure being a hero and protecting women is just a gig you have on the side" you kept your eyes on him as you both passed the cigarette back and forth.

"I have zero interest in being a hero or your hero sweetheart. I just happened to be there by chance. I teach MMA for a living by the way, my work comes in handy sometimes" you smiled as he said that, you weren't wrong about him being a fighter it seems.

"Well I appreciate it anyhow, you saved my life, I owe you one" he snickered again as you said that "I'll see you around…maybe" you turned around as you didn't want to come across as desperate for his attention, even though deep down you clearly were infatuated by him, but then you stopped as you heard his voice again.

"Owe me huh?" You turned to look at him, he was crushing the burnt butt of the cigarette beneath his boot and his eyes were no longer on you. "Wanna have a drink with me?" He finally looked up, and that's when you noticed how he barely had any hair on his brow bone, you didn't understand how a guy looked so strikingly handsome with four hair on his brows.

"Sure" you said before something would make him want to change his mind.

That's how you got to know Daemon Targaryen that night, he was everything you were not, you were needy and clingy while he acted as if he didn't care at all. Throughout the date, if you could call it that, not once he gave you any indication that he actually wanted to be there with you but at the same time every time he looked at you he burned you with deep sense of arousal, he looked at you as if he wanted to devour you. He wasn't trying to impress you at all like those other guys but maybe that's why you were getting so hooked onto him.

You weren't the type of girl to bed a man on the first date but you allowed him to take you home and he was very clear about his intentions,

"This is how it's going to be, you hear me darling? Don't get your emotions involved, I don't do that shit" he whispered against your mouth as he kissed you. After a few drinks you had ended up in his apartment and then in his bed, you weren't drunk or out of your mind so you knew you wanted him and he clearly wanted to fuck you.

"Yes sir"

"Good girl" when he took his shirt off you noticed every little scar on his body and there were many, your fingers immediately itched to touch the longest one of them on his right shoulder blade but he grabbed your hand and placed them over your head swiftly as if he was worried your touch would open those wounds again.

There was something wrong with him, something so broken and you wanted to figure him out like a piece of puzzle, you wanted to know why he was the way he was but everytime you even tried he distanced himself further. He'd leave you but then he'd come back and somehow you kept falling into his arms and his bed, over and over again, you kept falling in love with him. He was irresistible, like a moth to a flame you only got closer to him so he'd burn you more and more, even though you knew this wasn't what you needed in life.

You wanted a partner who'd take and give emotional affection and sometimes you did think he cared more than he showed but then he'd suppress it all again and the cycle continued.

"Fuck yeah…keep going pleaseee" you moaned in his ears as he thrusted in and out of you. He had you pressed against the wall and you just wanted him to keep going,

"Ohhh yeahhh? Want me to keep going? Then take that cock you fucking slut…take it" he cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately, sex was the only time when he showed you the least bit of affection but even then he fused his tender actions with rough words, all consented but you always felt as if he was scared of being hurt if he was to show you how he actually felt about you.

He told you it was just physical then why did he continue to see you again and again? If he didn't want to be yours then why you were the only one he was dating?

Both of you were in the club celebrating your birthday and he was there too, sipping on his drink and smoking on his cancer stick as he watched you move on the dance floor with your friends.

He wasn't fair to you, he knew that, he never wanted to get hooked to the way you melted in his arms but he couldn't help it, he felt helpless, he wanted to run far away from you and he even tried to do so but he failed every fucking time. He wanted to keep coming back to you as long as you'd tolerate him and he'd continue to do so for as long as you'd take his shitty behaviour.

He saw you walking towards him so he pretended to turn away as if he was never doting on you from the distance,

"Heyyyy Cheese Burger..Dance with me" he chuckled as you said that,

"Demanding today are we?" He said as he sipped on his drink, you looked at him up and down, he had a pastel shirt on with a loose fancy pair of pants, a long chain adorned his thick muscular neck, he was very sexy, both in and out of his clothes, you had seen both and you had seen it a plenty of times in the past few months.

"Well it's my birthday"

"You know I don't dance" you smiled as he said that but you grabbed his hand anyways to pull him on the dance floor. He groaned but for once he didn't protest. It was your birthday and making you cry tonight wasn't something he wanted to do.

He just moved against you slowly not really putting much effort into the act of dancing, he wished he was fucking you instead, his hands stayed on your hips as you grinded against him shamelessly. His eyes glanced over to the guy that kept staring at your behind, the dress you had on perfectly accentuated your curves.

"What are you looking at?" You giggled as you followed his eye line and noticed the guy behind you,

"You know that rat faced twat back there?" He asked you so you shook your head.

"Can't say that I do" you smirked and he placed his fingers on your chin to make you look up at him before he kissed you and he kissed you so deeply, tongue and all, as if he was trying to send a message that you belonged to him. Daemon wasn't an irrational guy, he didn't get jealous often, this wasn't supposed to be that type of relationship as he always told you but for some reason he couldn't tolerate how that guy was looking at you so brazenly.

He didn't do anything though, he let it go, he kept his cool and his hands to himself but then that guy bumped into you on purpose and made a nasty comment about your body..

"Shouldn't have done that –" you weren't even done speaking to that arse before your boyfriend had dragged him by the collar to take him outside of the club and then proceeded to beat the hell out of him, you had to get in between him and the guy just to get him under control, you feared someday his anger would get the worst of him and he'd kill someone. Perhaps he already had, if someone had told you that you'd believe them in an instant.

He took you home that night and fucked you million ways to Sunday but as his hunger was finally sated he got up, pulled out a pack of cigarette and left you all alone on the bed to smoke the night away.

Daemon Targaryen wasn't exactly normal, he was torned and broken, and he was selfish to his core, there was something in his past that kept him on edge all the time, there was something that made him afraid of falling in love again, something that made him want to detest physical affection and he had been like this for seven years now. He was waiting for you to give up on him like those other girls did that he had casually dated before you, he deserved that too. But the moment he had met you in that alley he knew you'd end up becoming the bane of his existence and you'll be the one to make him face his fears again, the truth of his past was just waiting to be uncovered.

He just hoped you'd be willing to stay by his side once you had him all figured out, he hoped you'd be willing to be completely his even though he feared he'd never love you the way you deserve to be loved. He knew he'd never truly love anyone again.

💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Note : I'm thinking of writing 4-5 parts to this depending if anyone wants it. Gotta say I am enjoying writing about him.

[girlyteengirl18]

let me introduce my oc

drum roll pleaseeeee 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

give it up for soulanna kwandia pines!!!!

things about my oc

Soulanna was born in 1949, her birthday is on March 17, she is 63 years old, she has been married to stanley for 40ish years, her maiden name is Johnson , she is a cosmetologist she does hair and nails and other things, she has the most popular salon in the town of gravity Falls, in fact her salon was a gift for her and stanleys 30th anniversary. (she did in-fact cry, he knew she would love it and the fact that he was getting tired of the towns people coming to his(brothers) home so he got her something in town, she does work at the shack sometimes as Mrs. Mystery.

backstory timeeee

soulanna was born in detroit, MI but moved to Las Vegas when she was 13 with her mother corrina sonja johnson, an African-American woman from Chicago, Illinois and her father, kurtis Lamar johnson an African-American man from detroit,MI. her mother was a outstanding teacher and her father was a maifa man and a great gambler (hence why they moved to vegas) she also has three siblings one older sister one younger brother and another younger sister so she is the middle child. anyway her fav colors are green, and pastel pink, she is heavily inspired fashion wise by artist like Cleo soul, Britney Spears , the spice girls , donna summer and more. two songs to describe her would be 

meeting stanley time😛

Soulanna met Stanley when she was 23 at a party and after some dates they started dating, she never really knew his living situation but she knew of his past as he came undone one night in her apartment after a few months they had been dating (he says that’s when he knew she turned him “into a sap”) about a year into the relationship, she got pregnant, they became homeless and living in a car on the run all in 2 months. they decided to have a shotgun wedding before leaving Las Vegas, they chose to leave the baby (a girl) in front of a children’s home with a locket to remember them by.

Anyway- once the stuff with ford happened and they get settled she decided that she didn't want to just work in the shack with stan (which they had a argument about bc he’s protective of her and doesn’t know the town well enough to want her to work or go anywhere else) but he realizes that he was in the wrong (and she had to cuss his ass out), they did get their baby back (because they couldn’t bare the fact they had to give her up) when she was 7 years old her name is ma’niayh alora pines and in present time (2012) she is in her late 30s/early 40s? and lives in a town over

the end!!

a/n so this is my oc guys i need to make her a real backstory but that’s what i get so far but she is just me fr but bye my loves ❤️

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hiiii! You’re my favourite writer!! <33 I have some idea

Maybe G!P Donna with reader who is a very romantic and artistic soul. She reads a lot of romance novels and gets a little lost in this world. Donna has been wanting to do sexual things with the reader for some time now. Each time, the reader tells Donna to stop or runs away. One time, Donna can't stand it anymore and confronts her. It turns out that the reader, because she reads so many romance novels, is afraid that she will not be able to meet Donna's expectations and will disappoint her. She is also afraid of sex because in most romance novels the girl is in pain and how Donna will react to her body :(

Yess!!!! OMG, thank you for your words, your support is very important to me :)))) Thank you for your request too!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

The love that wasn't in the books

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff,

Word count: 8,441 (ups, maybe it's too long)

Summary: You were afraid of doing what lovers do in your books...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

The backpack you were carrying on your shoulders was heavy, the cold was almost unbearable, but the path you were traveling made you not care about any of that.

After playing to look for love in your books, you finally thought you had found it.

A tall, handsome and kind villager? No

Maybe a shy villager like you? No, not at all.

Any resemblance to a reality you thought you were living was a coincidence. After years feeling maybe that feeling, that impossible romance, was only written in your books, the day arrived. The day you didn't think you were awake, the day love knocked on your door or, well, you actually knocked on its door.

Neither a villager, nor a farmer, nor a forbidden lover nor an impossible love. Just when you thought that maybe you weren't born to be loved in the world you lived in, in that sinister place, reality hit you, thus overcoming the stories you could get lost in for hours.

It was not a reality similar to any of your friends. It was not a marriage proposal to unite two businesses, no... Love appeared in your life unexpectedly, with an unexpected someone.

Donna Beneviento, Lord of the village, a mysterious figure who dangerously bordered on legend. She was waiting behind that door, in that idyllic place, with the incessant sound of that waterfall. You never expected someone to open the door for you. You never thought you would really meet that woman who seemed to give nightmares to your friends.

You didn't believe in ghosts or monsters, how could you in a place populated by werewolves? You never liked fantasy novels. Living in that village, the most impossible thing was love, romance. Maybe that's why you were so hooked on those books, maybe that's why they seemed almost like a fantasy to you, almost more unreal than a legend about a monster.

It could have been precisely your lack of faith in dangerous creatures, more dangerous than those you already knew, that made you smile at her mourning figure, at that dark woman, tormented by her past, sick, dangerous, much more than any ogre or giant.

But, as has already been said, you never believed in those book monsters, you only believed in love, a blind faith in the possibility of experiencing something similar to your novels, in feeling the same as the protagonists of those books. Maybe then you would forget you were born in the wrong place.

Silence, sinister dolls and sighs. That was all you got from the lady in black when your daring pushed you to sell the vegetables you grew beyond the forest. It could be a dream of living those adventures that you refused to read. But, like everything else in the village, they cost money that was increasingly scarce.

But your daring didn’t end in an eternal nightmare, in a terror that could kill you, just as you were warned. The only thing you gained was a quiet afternoon, having tea with what seemed like a ghost, with that woman with a covered face, in the darkness of the mansion.

A poor excuse, the flavor she said was unmatched from vegetables made you come back again, and again, and again...

Oblivious to that strange curiosity the lady in black seemed to feel about you, your fantasies increased without meaning to. The protagonists of your books became little by little deformed in your head. The innocent lady who fell in love with the knight stopped being innocent. Her hair turned brown, and the knight changed his armor for a black dress.

Love had come to your head, to your heart, and you didn't know why, but you imagined that somehow, she felt the same.

That was confirmed when that horrible black veil disappeared on one of those afternoons of tea and few words. It was an unmatched beauty, a wounded but beautiful face. Those knights in black dresses no longer had a helmet. They had a face, lips, a desire to be that innocent lady from a medieval town. You were. You ended up succumbing to what your heart said it felt, just like Donna.

After a few months enjoying true romanticism, feeling everything you read in novels, you took the last step to remind yourself that you were not living in a dream. Living on the Beneviento estate, living with Donna, with your love, living those moments your books always hid after: they lived happily...

Everything was new to you, you couldn't think, or imagine what was to come and that was... Exciting.

“I thought you wouldn't come...” the lady in black murmured, opening the door so you could enter that new life, your new life, your own story.

“Well, I had a lot of things at home,” you said, kissing your lover slowly, just as you had learned in your books. Love was in no hurry, it was slow, intense… It was something so subtle that it left an indelible mark on your memories. You wanted it that way.

She smiled in relief. If your greatest fear was living without being loved, hers was losing you, something she always made clear, something that always made her tremble, made her look shamefully weak.

“I see,” she commented amused, helping you, taking a folder you were holding in your hand. –“What is this?” she asked, browsing its contents.

You smiled and blushed.

“Drawings, sometimes I feel like letting the paintings think for me, you know,” you said nervously, looking next to her at those mediocre landscapes full of castles, ships on the sea, the scenarios that you read over and over again in books.

“You're quite an artist,” Donna murmured, with a tender smile, with the smile that reminded you were loved, she loved you.

“What is that, silly?” a squeaky voice asked, Donna's faithful companion, her inseparable alter ego, the Angie doll. The puppet picked up one of those drawings, looking at them.

You got nervous, blushing even more.

“It's her stuff, Angie, come on, behave,” Donna snapped, taking the drawing from her wooden hands and putting it next to the rest in the folder. The doll laughed, while you left that heavy backpack on the floor.

“You're the one who has to behave, Donna, now that you can finally put that stupid villager in your bed and...” the doll couldn't finish the sentence, since the lady's hands went to her with a scared look, causing her to turn and run away.

“Don't pay attention to her,” she said, shaking her head, with a blush that was also quite evident.

You smiled amused, but with a knot starting to form in your stomach. One of your worries, one that kept you awake at night, came back to spoil the beginning of your new life.

“Yeah, I'm used to it,” you said, with nerves starting to distort your voice. No, it was not the time to think about those things, it was not the time.

“I'm afraid you'll have to get used to it a little more from now on, tesoro,” Donna whispered, gently grabbing your waist, not wasting that small tender moment to kiss your lips, to make you feel those things that you could only imagine months ago.

She smiled at you, sighing pleased at your receptiveness, at how sweet and romantic your kisses were. You smiled back at her, being dazzled by that bright, sincere eye, by that look that said how happy she was because her loneliness was over.

Not wanting to lose yourself in love again, you grabbed your backpack from the floor, making a gesture of effort. Donna laughed, helping you carry that weight, frowning.

“What are you carrying here?” she asked amused. You shrugged as you let the lady snoop around a bit. You didn't care, she was already part of your life, and she would be forever.

“My books,” you explained, amused, while your lover looked at those old covers worn by use, those words you believe one day your eyes would be able to erase.

“Oh, they are many of them, mm?” the lady murmured, reading the titles with curiosity.

“There is no place for them!” Angie screamed from the living room, to which you both smiled knowingly.

“(Y/N), don’t…”

“I don't pay attention to her, I know,” you whispered, finishing her sentence and winking at her, earning you another of her fascinating smiles.

“But, it's a shame...” Donna murmured, with an air of sadness that put all your senses on alert.

“What's wrong? If, if there really isn't a place for the books, I can, I can maybe...” you said, playing with your hands, which were starting to sweat.

You were always cautious, you were afraid of losing what you had worked so hard to get, you were afraid of losing her love.

Donna smiled, shaking her head, searching for something on a piece of furniture in the room, something wrapped up that she extended towards you.

“I say it's a shame, because my gift won't fascinate you as much as I thought,” she whispered romantically, while you took the package with trembling hands and raised eyebrows.

“A gift? For me?” you asked in an almost childish way, excited by those things you only believed happened in books.

“Of course,” she said, amused, looking expectantly at that mysterious package trembling in your hands.

“You, you shouldn't have…” you said, noticing how your heart was beating faster and faster.

“Sciocchezze,” she responded, making a gesture with her hands, downplaying it. “You have given me the happiness of being able to see you wake up every morning.”

Your cheeks were already turning dark red. 

You bit your lip as you unwrapped the gift. Not all the romanticism described in your books could overcome the softness of her voice declaring her love for you with phrases like that one. You were totally addicted to her.

“Love in the Time of Cholera,” you read the title of that new book, without marks of having been used, resplendent in your hands. Donna nodded with an excited expression.

“Don't tell me you've read it, because you'd make me buy another one,” she said amused, surrounding you, grabbing your waist from behind and kissing your shoulder. You shook your head, turning the pages, soaking in the smell of that new book, that magnificent gift.

“No, the truth is that it's the first time I've seen it,” you said sincerely, admiring that gift, a successful one. You didn't know when you stopped being a secret to Lady Beneviento. Well, there were still things she didn't know and they were the ones that made you strangely and uncomfortablely nervous.

Donna nodded, kissing you again romantically and pulling away slightly.

“You can start reading it now if you want, I still have one more surprise for you,” she whispered with a slightly dark, but happy look. You didn't see evil in her eyes, you had never seen it.

The stories the villagers told about her were very wrong, or so you liked to think.

“What one?” you asked, making small jumps on the wood, excited by this welcome, by this beginning of your new life.

“If I told you...” she murmured, turning elegantly to look at you, making her dress dance in a hypnotic way.

“It wouldn't be a surprise,” you finished, smiling. Your connection was so strong that you were even able to dare to interrupt her. Donna smiled, gesturing to her doll.

“Angie, do something useful and put those books in the shelves,” the lady ordered, which obviously led to the puppet's comical protest.

“What are you trying to achieve with this, huh?” Angie rebuked, making Donna roll her eye, ignoring those childish squeaks. –“(Y/N) is a fool, do you think she will spread her legs for you just because you prepare a…?”

Luckily, you were already engrossed in your reading. You couldn't know if you had really heard what you had heard.

“Angie! Taci!” Donna said, with a cold, almost furious look. “Stop talking nonsense and put the books in order before I get angry.”

“Stop talking nonsense, blah, blah, blah...” the doll mocked, imitating the voice of its owner in the most mocking way possible. “You forget that you are me and I am you, I know what you’re thinking.”

“Really? What I’m thinking now?” the lady said with her hands on her hips, while you turned page after page, not paying attention, or rather, ignoring that usual argument.

“Okay, okay, I give up,” the doll said, apparently scared. “Don't disable me, I'll be good,” she pleaded in a comical tone.

Donna nodded, looking at you strangely and sighing.

“The books, now,” she murmured, before disappearing down the elevator hallway.

The doll growled, mocking its owner again and prepared to obey.

You didn't know how much time had passed, since whenever you got into a book, it was hard to get out of it. Apparently, tranquility reigned again in the mansion, well, almost. Angie's murmurs and protests while she looked for a place for your books were the only thing separating you from absolute silence.

That promised surprise was a romantic dinner, one that Donna prepared in silence, trying not to disturb you.

The light of the candles, the taste of the food, the bitterness and fruitiness of the wine…

Everything was perfect, even your looks, even that strange shyness that was evident in the lady in black. You wanted to ask what the reason for her nervousness was, but you didn't want to, you didn't want to expose her psychosis, or the fragility of her mind. You wanted everything to be perfect, as perfect as in your books.

But since everything has an end, as uncertain as in most stories, that moment arrived, the time to spend the night with Donna, to sleep next to her. You didn't see anything wrong, you didn't see the brunette's possible intention, and of course, you didn't imagine that was the reason for her strange nervousness.

“Come to bed, my love,” Donna told you tenderly, pointing to the empty spot on the mattress. You, nervous about that step, about your first night sleeping with her, obeyed with your new favorite book in your hand. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes,” you said with a smile, while she adjusted the pillow, everything she could do to make you comfortable. She was so attentive, so kind. Sometimes it was difficult for you to believe that she was a Lord, that her name was synonymous with pure terror, with fear itself. “Thank you, Donna.”

She nodded, looking away, playing with the sheets, without removing that strange glow in her face she had during dinner.

“You don't mind if I want to read before going to sleep, right?” you asked, opening the book again, with an innocent smile. She looked at you and nodded, blinking nervously.

“Of course I don’t mind, read calmly,” she said, caressing your cheek. You smiled gratefully and immersed yourself again in that tragic and interesting story.

Time passed subtly. You didn't look up from the book, but something made you feel uncomfortable. It would probably be Donna's strange posture, with her gaze lost, as if she was waiting for something, maybe for you to turn off the light so she could sleep.

After a moment of her seeming to think about something, she cleared her throat, moving a little closer to you.

“Do you want to read with me?” you asked innocently, ignoring the soft caresses that ran down your hand. She, confused, nodded with a sinister smile, getting closer and closer.

At first everything seemed to be going well, but soon the kisses reached your neck, the caresses went down the sheets until they reached your legs. Your nerves were on edge, the book started to shake in your hands and your breathing quickened.

“Donna,” you said nervously, closing your eyes when that touch on your skin intensified, when her kiss silenced your protests, lying back on the mattress, without saying a word, but saying everything.

She didn't respond, she continued along your body, continued with her burning kisses, with her increasingly dangerous caresses. Your body could not withstand that pressure, and your hands released the book, stopping that hunger, that anxiety of the brunette with your hands on her chest.

“What's wrong, tesoro?” she asked, surprised, withdrawing from you with a confused look, as if she didn't understand your reaction.

“Oh, nothing, it's just...” you said nervously, moving away a little from her burning body, from the desire that was very evident in her bright eye, from her heavy breathing. “I'm, I'm a bit tired and...”

Donna withdrew as well, with a nervous laugh, lowering her gaze.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered with a sincerely apologetic tone. You caressed her face, turning that sudden rejection over in your head.

“No, nothing's wrong,” you said, also looking away from her. “I'm sleepy, that's all.”

“Okay,” she said, with an amused but confused gasp at the same time.

“Well, we should sleep,” you whispered, camouflaging your shame as you left the book on the nightstand, covering yourself with the sheets, as if they could protect you from one of your fears, from something you hadn't been able to assimilate.

“Yes, it will be the best,” she said, imitating your gesture, lying on her back, still breathing hard.

“Good night, Donna,” you said, kissing her quickly, as if you were afraid that this innocent contact would rekindle her intentions. Luckily, it didn't.

“Good, good night”

Yes, you were a true romantic, an artistic soul with a soft heart, wanting to feel everything you had read in love stories, an inveterate romantic, an expert in confessions, in declarations, in tender and affectionate gestures. But there was something in which you were not an expert, something that you had read countless times in stories, something you feared and looked askance at.

The moment of undressing, of giving way to a different phase, of demonstrating the love that was felt in a much more intense way, the moment of making love.

It didn't matter how many times you read it, you felt some anguish when that moment was close, or you thought it was close. You loved Donna. You really loved her, but your cowardly attitude, so different from the romanticism surrounding you, was something that embarrassed you. You were afraid of many things, you were afraid of not being enough, of being clumsy, you were afraid of loving completely, of giving yourself to her in a way you had only been able to read.

Of course, you never told her, you hoped she wouldn't pressure you and apparently she didn't, until that night. It was an innocent attempt, an approach that had nothing lascivious or rough about it, but it was reason enough for all your worries to come back to you that night, curled up next to the woman you loved, unable to love her the way she wanted, the way you knew she wanted.

Luckily, the tiredness acted as an assistant for sleep to free you from those thoughts and, after tossing and turning a few times, you fell asleep.

You woke up with the sensation of having had nightmares, those nightmares that didn’t talk about monsters, but rather about heartbreak, disappointment. Not even sleep was able to free you from your stupid worries.

Donna was sleeping peacefully next to you. Her soft breathing served as a small comfort to the tribulations of your mind. But, in a moment, she turned, unconsciously grabbing your body, dragging it against hers.

Romantic, yes, but also unexpected.

Your terrified body jumped when it made contact with hers. Something pressed against you, something you knew what it was, that you knew she had. Caprices of the Cadou, as she explained to you a long time ago. But feeling it that way, against you, with your back turned, feeling her arms surrounding you… It was too much for you, and you jumped on the mattress, uncomfortable.

“Donna, hey, Donna...” you said nervously, moving her body with your hand, making her grunt when she was woken up in that abrupt way.

“(Y/N)? What...” she stammered, her voice distorted by sleep. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” you said ironically, sitting on the bed, crossing your arms and turning on the light on the table. You were nervous and not thinking clearly, you thought that Donna had wanted to take what you denied her the night before.

The sleepy, confused look on her face should have told you that you were wrong, but you didn't want to see it.

“What... What's wrong, tesoro?” she asked, rubbing her eye, fighting with the sleep that your cowardice interrupted.

“Don't pretend nothing's wrong, Donna,” you said furiously, crossing your arms. As it could not be otherwise, she shook her head, yawning.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, reassuring you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Aren't you able to wait? Can't you wait until I'm ready? It has to be when you want, right? And since I rejected you last night, you have seen fit to take things into your own hands,” you said without thinking, believing in the worst possible scenario.

Donna blinked with a shocked look, opening her mouth to say something, but not being able to do so due to your baseless accusation.

“I don't know what I've done...” she murmured, shaking her head, with an innocent look of concern. “Last night? What…?”

“Don't play dumb, I know you're not,” you snapped, looking away from her, removing her comforting hand from your shoulder.

“Te, tesoro, I have no idea what...” she whispered, trying to calm herself, being completely sincere, something you should have noticed.

“That, what about that?” you said furiously, pointing to the lump that was between her legs, the one that you considered was harassing you.

She looked at the same spot, covering herself immediately, her cheeks flushed.

“Oh, I... I, I'm sorry...” Donna said nervously, hiding her erection under the sheets with a nervous laugh.

“Was it really necessary to take advantage of me being asleep?” you asked irrationally, making her embarrassed look intensify.

“What have I done?” she asked, calmer, with a sad look.

“You know what you've done, you've... Tightened me against you, against your...” you murmured with the same shyness. She laughed nervously, shaking her head.

“Oh, have I? Well, I didn't realize, I was asleep,” she explained naturally, downplaying the importance.

“Yes, of course,” you said, suspicious.

“Hey, I... I don't know what you think I've done but... I promise you it wasn't my intention,” the doll maker told you, grabbing your shoulders to force you to look at her.

“It was your body’s,” you murmured with a tone of contempt. Donna sighed, shaking her head.

“I, I'm sorry, I...” she whispered, her voice soft, giving away her inner nervousness, desperate to reason with you. “Some, sometimes it gets hard when I sleep and I, well, I can't do anything. It's normal, it happens to me often. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, forgive me.”

Your thoughts relaxed at her sincerity, at her worry, one that you caused. You sighed, shaking your head, ashamed of your immature attitude, one that you only showed in situations that were overwhelming you.

“I don't mean to pressure you, amore mio,” Donna whispered, approaching you again, relaxing you with a soft kiss on your cheek, with her subtle caresses, with the soft and melodic tone of her voice. “If you're not ready, I understand. I'll wait as long as it takes, you hear me?”

You nodded, stopping shaking, feeling guilty for that disproportionate reaction to something that you knew was natural, but that your fears and your own worries took on with an attack.

“I'm sorry, Donna, I've been stupid,” you apologized, playing with her hand, staring into her bright eye, at the beauty of her gaze, one that you couldn't stop staring at.

“Don't apologize,” she said, cupping your face in her hands, giving you the warmth that your nervous body needed. “You know I love you, right?”

You nodded, more relaxed, letting yourself be consumed by the tenderness of her kisses, by the softness of her caresses.

Thus, the days passed, that coexistence went well, too well. You and Donna were meant to be together. Everything: the smiles, the kisses, the caresses... Everything became a routine that you no longer wanted to part with.

Afternoons in the workshop, learning to sew, abstract conversations about art, literature, with two steaming cups of tea, with soft words, with looks that said many more things than your words. Everything was perfect, or almost everything.

Donna promised to wait for you and, since that turbulent morning, the subject was not discussed again. It could be lucky, the relief of being understood, but you knew that haven of peace had an expiration date.

Her approaches came again to put you on the ropes. Subtle movements loaded with lust. No matter the place, or the circumstances, any pretext served for Donna to try to corrupt you, for her kisses to become disorderly and her caresses to wander through forbidden places.

You, in a pathetic and cowardly way, rejected the love that she wanted to give you, that display of intimate affection that was so important to her. It could be with a sudden gesture, with your hands stopping hers, scratching her skin so her hands wouldn't go higher than your knee. No matter how many times she tried, you always ran away.

During those two months, tension began to build in the old mansion. The looks began to be harder, with resentment, with ignorance of your thoughts, your fears. You couldn't confess your worries. You were a romantic, that fearful attitude towards sex couldn't be possible in someone like you. The disappointment began to show in her gestures, in the quick kisses that Donna gave you.

Your nervous state prevented you from even enjoying the romantic books that she gave you, from rereading over and over again the stories that you fantasized about so much. Your eyes always went from the words of love, to the romantic gestures, always the chapter you read was the one in which the lovers undressed, enjoying their bodies.

The pressure was getting stronger and the tension was getting more and more unbearable.

Donna's passivity was getting more and more evident. You would drive her crazy, you would drive her crazy.

“Ciao tesoro,” she said, with an elegant smile, when you went back up to the living room after a relaxing bath, one in which you couldn't stop thinking about what to do to solve your fears, your problems.

You smiled tiredly, sighing listlessly, walking slowly towards her desk, where she always worked on things you didn't want to know about, terrible things, according to her, things that an angel like you shouldn't see, or so she told you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, running a hand along her back, causing that smile she always had when she was with you, a smile that was becoming less and less frequent.

“Well, studying my plants, you know,” Donna explained, closing the notebook and looking at you. “Do you want something?”

“Yes, I...” you said, closing your eyes, taking in enough air and confidence, one that faded when you noticed all her attention was focused on you. “I wanted, I wanted to apologize for… Well, for being so distant lately.”

Donna sighed, taking your hand and standing up from the desk, hugging your waist and placing a strand of hair behind your ear with an affectionate look, tender as only she knew how.

“Don't worry, everything is fine, tesoro,” she whispered, kissing you slowly, holding your hands, swinging them together for your relief, for your comfort. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

You wanted to nod, you wanted to say so many things, talk about your fears, the contradiction that was fearing sex when you lived dreaming of love... A shame that your nerves acted against you again.

“No, well, maybe,” you said stammering, looking for an excuse for that sudden approach.

“I'll do anything,” she said, with an overly pleading tone, revealing she evidently knew that something was happening to you, that something was worrying you.

“Okay, well... That lasagna,” you said, faking a smile, leaving her puzzled.

“Lasagna,” she murmured, blinking, confused and frowning.

“Yes, well, it's just that it's so delicious... I, I'd like you to make it for dinner, you know, like on our first date,” you said, lying, being a coward again.

“Oh, sure. You just have to ask me, (Y/N),” she said amused, but confused at the same time. It wasn't the conversation she was expecting to have.

With a tired sigh, probably due to your reticent attitude, Donna kissed you again, looking into your eyes, smiling wistfully, but also with amusement.

“Please,” you joked, feeling more and more natural in lying. Well, lying for love wasn't bad, right?

“Okay, (Y/N). But I hope you prepare yourself because after eating you are going to want to suck...”

The alert went off again in your confused mind, imagining possible ways to finish that sentence, possible horrible words that would come out of her mouth, insinuations that weren't so horrible.

You believed her patience had ended, that her subtle actions no longer made sense. Just thinking about what she wanted you to suck made you burn with rage, an irrational rage, as always, one that made you act irrationally again.

With a furious growl, you moved your hand, slapping the lady in black hard, who remained glued to the floor, her eye wide open and her hand on her bruised cheek.

“But, but, (Y/N)...” she sighed open-mouthed, rubbing the sore part of it with her hand.

You were burning with rage. Your hand was burning from that unfair slap. Your fears, your problems, had overcome you.

“The subtleties are over, right? Did you really think being a creep was going to work for you, Donna?” you said, angry again, for no reason, making her look even more confused, making her gestures fearful.

Maybe you should have thought about it before, maybe not, sure. In the end, Donna Beneviento was fear itself. Maybe you would die screaming for help.

“Creep? But what the hell is wrong with you? What that was about?” she asked with a broken voice, moving away from you, revealing her red cheek due to your angry slap.

“What was that creepy thing about? What did you want me to suck, Donna?” you asked, approaching her, cornering her against her desk.

The lady in black shook her head, with a nervous laugh and a dangerous look.

“What…? Le, le, le dita, the, the fingers, (Y/N), you're going to suck your fingers... Seriously, what's wrong with you?” she said stuttering, being unable to control her language. Surely at that moment you were fear itself for her.

You, embarrassed, with your face red from shame, from your stupid mistake, were not able to respond. You simply let the tears roll down your cheeks, turning around to cowardly run away again, this time, rightfully so.

“No, no, no, I'm not going to let you leave,” she said, grabbing your wrist with a threatening tone, pulling your body, making you sob, unable to escape. “Hey, come on, what makes you think I would say something like that?”

“I don't know,” you whispered, avoiding her gaze, something impossible, since her fingers lifted your chin to keep your head up.

“You don't know...” she murmured, looking away, releasing you from her grip and crossing her arms.

“You don’t get it!” you screamed, clenching your fists tightly, surrendering to the truth of your thoughts, your fears. “I Can't!”

“You can’t? What you can't do, tesoro?” Donna asked, with a slightly softer tone.

“I've tried, okay? I've tried to get used to the idea, to think that maybe I would... But I can't, I can't, Donna,” you sobbed, throwing yourself into the comfort of her arms, a hug that she returned with an intense sigh, stroking your hair, kissing it understandingly.

“Hey, hey, come on, no, don't cry, it kills me to see you crying...” she whispered, comforting you without having to do it, without having to forgive that slap so unfair, so out of place. Maybe you were right and she wasn't the dangerous Lord that everyone thought she was.

“How can I not cry?” you protested, sinking into her chest, wetting the black fabric of her dress with your tears. “It's exasperating...”

“Okay, okay, listen to me, you're going to calm down and you're going to tell me what's worrying you,” she said, pulling you away, holding your gaze and your head, wiping away the tears that wandered aimlessly down your cheeks.

You nodded, regaining some composure, no longer seeing any reason to hide your concerns.

“I've spent my life reading romantic novels...” you began, playing with the buttons on her dress to calm your nerves. “Reading love stories that always ended in the same way and… No, I'm not able to…”

“Shh, relax... I'm here with you, your problems are mine,” she told you softly, relaxing you with her voice, with her caresses.

“I know, I know you want to make love to me,” you said, looking away from her, embarrassed by just saying it. She looked at you, with a sad look, knowing what the conversation was about.

“Of course I want to... I love you so much...” she whispered to you, studying your gaze, which diverted downwards again, towards the black fabric of the lady's dress.

“I want it too, Donna,” you acknowledged, letting that desire come out of your mouth, a desire that you were unable to verbalize, that fear prevented you from saying.

“Well, what's the problem then?” she asked, with the same calm tone.

“I don't... I can't, I... I just read about it in my books and I think about it and I want to feel the same with you but... But I'm afraid,” you finally admitted, embarrassed, dissolved into tears.

“You are afraid, what are you afraid of?” she asked more delicately, knowing that at any moment you could pathetically run away again.

“Everything, Donna...” you sighed pacing erratically from side to side. “I'm afraid of not fulfilling what you expect of me, I'm afraid that you don't like my body, that you'll reject me, that I'm clumsy and won't be able to make you feel the way you expect...”

“Oh, tesoro... What nonsense is that?” she said, with a kind smile, grabbing your waist so you would stop walking senselessly. “You are perfect for me. You will always be perfect for me.”

“That's not true,” you said, darkening your tone of voice. “No, I'm not good for that, besides...”

“Mm?” Donna hummed, letting you talk about what scared you most, what made you most ashamed.

“I'm, I'm afraid of...” you murmured, remembering all the books, remembering the pain those damsels felt when they were loved for the first time. “I, I'm afraid of the pain.”

“Oh,” she sighed, scratching the back of her neck, confused by not knowing how to get those thoughts out of you, knowing that she could comfort you in many ways, but that she couldn't avoid that specific fear. “Well, I…”

“It's stupid, I know, I'm a coward, I know, but, but I'm afraid of hurting myself and... You don't know what it's like to want something you're afraid of.”

“Hey, I would never hurt you, tesoro... Well, I would try not to...” she explained, a bit nervous, knowing that there was no solution for that.

“Leave it be, Donna, I know it wouldn't be your fault,” you said, moving away from her, a difficult task, since her hands clung to your waist.

“I didn't know you were so scared, (Y/N), I'm sorry if I pressured you. I repeat, I will wait as long as it takes, okay?” she said, caressing your cheek, getting rid of the last tears that ran down them.

Your crying was suffocated in a second, that confession moved something inside you, something that, when you felt freed from those chains that were your secrets, suddenly woke up. Looking at her face, at her understanding, at how bad she felt having pressured you like that, you realized that you didn't want to wait anymore.

“Donna,” you said, hugging her again, speaking in her ear as your body swayed with hers. “I want to do it, now.”

“What?” she asked, pulling you away from her and looking at you suspiciously. “But, tesoro, if you just said that…”

“I know what I said,” you interrupted with an angry growl, not letting fear stop you from giving in to your desires, to her desires. “And I also know that if I let this opportunity pass I don't know when I will feel this desire to, to love you....”

Donna nodded, looking around confusedly, taking your hand and walking slowly towards the elevator.

“Are you sure?” she murmured, closing the bedroom door, breaking that tense silence that had accompanied you all the way.

“Yes, I... I want, I want to do it,” you said with false confidence. The lady in black studied your gestures, looking for that insecurity that made you uncomfortable, not seeing it thanks to your art of lying and deception, one that you also learned from your books. She finally nodded, approaching slowly.

“We'll go at your pace, okay? I'm not in any hurry,” she whispered in your ear, making a cold current run through your body. Could it be the desire that had been dormant inside you for so long?

“Okay, I...  I guess I have to get naked,” you said confused, nervous again, but wanting to overcome that stupid cowardice. “Surely then you can regret loving me.”

“Stop talking nonsense,” she told you with a stern tone, putting her hands on your shoulders. “You are beautiful, and your body is too.”

“You don't know that,” you whispered, looking down at the floor, hands reaching for the ties of your dress, trembling. Donna laughed, shaking her head, pulling your hand, sitting on the bed, looking at you expectantly.

“Well, I guess there's only one way to find out,” she said amused, caressing your hand, kissing the back of it and leaving you free to act.

You tried to untie your dress, but your hands were shaking too much, your body was shaking too much. Donna noticed it and stood up from the bed, standing behind you, her slender fingers grasping the tie that kept your nakedness safe from onlookers.

“Do you want me to help you, tesoro?” she asked suggestively, speaking in your ear, making the rapid beating of your heart worse.

You, insecure and nervous, nodded slowly, receiving in response a soft kiss on your neck, which distracted you from her rapid movements, from the delicate and skillful way of releasing the ties and letting the dress fall elegantly down your body, rushing to the floor.

You had to suppress the logical impulse to bend down to pick it up, to cover your half-naked body. Once again, her kisses prevented you, dispelling your doubts with her caresses on your body, on your naked skin, with her soft lips admiring, adoring every exposed part of your body.

“Come, let me look how beautiful you are,” she whispered, slowly turning you around.

You, embarrassed, avoided her gaze, just before her lips silenced your fear, kissed yours while her hands calmed the trembling of your body, an involuntary tremor, which was no longer only due to fear, but also to desire, the one that you had read so many times in your books and that now you were feeling.

Slowly, Donna walked towards the bed, bringing your body with hers, kissing you relentlessly, focused on your comfort, on your wanting to continue despite your fears.

Your body fell against the mattress, as did your bra, which her mischievous fingers inadvertently unclasped. Your hands covered your now bare breasts, and she smiled tenderly, bringing her hands to the buttons of her dress.

“You don't have to be embarrassed with me, (Y/N), not anymore,” Donna whispered in a sensual voice, one you had been hearing for too long. “Tell me, do you want me to get naked first?”

“I, it's okay,” you said nervously, nodding, slowly separating your hands from your breasts, letting her look at them while her dress gave in to her movements, falling next to yours. Her eye rose to yours, not making you feel that your breasts were her target, her target was you, all of you.

Stroking your leg, wondering if she was somehow forcing you to give in to her desires, she looked at you again, seeing a shy smile on your face, a blush on your cheeks. Her smile reassured you again as her torso undressed with a loud “click.”

Her beauty was now the center of your thoughts, those pale breasts, with a shape so perfect that it seemed straight out of one of the idealized love stories. You had never stopped to think about what that black dress was hiding; the beauty that was hidden behind that annoying fabric. An almost divine figure, proportioned, some marks on her skin, standing out in the paleness that Donna always carried with her.

A perfect body, a perfect woman.

You couldn't think of anything else. At least until her fingers moved down her body with a sigh, grabbing the last cloth, also black, that hid the rest of her figure, one that you could sense, but that you couldn't see.

Donna sighed, thus revealing her own insecurities, that involuntary change that her eternal servitude to Mother Miranda entailed, a capricious change, but one that didn’t represent the slightest problem for you.

Her underwear went down her legs, thus revealing the last part of her divine figure. Her legs were slender, beautiful, they seemed soft, it seemed like she was made by the black Gods themselves. Between them, the cause of her embarrassment, her erection revealing her impatience, proportionate, like her entire body.

Her eye searched for disgust in your gaze, a sign that it was not what you were looking for, that the fear you felt was aggravated by its size, a little bigger than you imagined, but not enough for you to want to run away.

Proportion was the word, perfection was her body, love was Donna, it was you. It was both of you.

Encouraged by that vision, by that lack of shyness that seemed impossible in Donna, you did the same, breathing nervously, pulling down your panties with your fingers, letting her gaze focus on every detail that the fabric left free.

Two naked bodies, two souls in love. Like a love poem, like a romantic tragedy, two people about to become one. Fear had prevented you from thinking about that artistic way of looking at sex, that way you only believed was an exaggeration by some self-conscious writer.

“Bellisima,” she whispered, not for you, but for herself.

With an admiring sigh of pleasure at seeing your completely naked body, she climbed the bed until she was on top of you, caressing your frightened face. Yes, scared by the perfect beauty of her.

“Kiss me, Donna, please,” you said, feeling the heat of her body, her soft skin burning yours, making it hopelessly addicted. That pale glow, that softness, forced you to move your hands to her back, to her neck, pulling it so your lips met, so your bodies did the same.

Sighs, kisses, caresses... All you could feel was pleasure, desire, her desire and yours mixed in a wet dance of intense, messy, passionate kisses.

Your hips, also impatient, moved to the area of ​​hers. Donna was respectful, circling the places her hands caressed, not wanting to grab your skin like she would like, making you feel comfortable before gently squeezing one of your breasts, eliciting a moan from her lips, from yours.

“Donna,” you said at the pleasure of her grip, of the mischievous play of her fingers on your nipple, of the kisses that slowly descended down your neck.

Your hands, eager for contact, for that perfection that touched you, did the same, exploring, palpating, caressing her skin, causing her to moan, you moaning in response from the pleasure of feeling her body against yours.

Her kisses seemed tireless, especially when, with a frustrated growl, they left your mouth to go down your body, following the path her hands took minutes before. You gasped at that lack of her kisses, but also at the hands that were now traveling up your legs.

Her mouth rested on your breasts, your hands wandered aimlessly along her back, fingers confused, timid, not wanting to give in to the desire to reach other places, to fully explore that perfection.

You moaned again involuntarily, because of the heat that her body transmitted, because of that desire repressed for so long. Her lips caressed your belly, her tongue tested your skin as if it were something delicate, the greatest of delicatessen.

But her desire to kiss you didn’t diminish, nor did her kisses stop going down until they reached that forbidden place, making you sit up scared.

“Hey, calm down, tesoro... I just want to make you feel good, relax,” she said, caressing your belly, your chest, bending down again to fulfill her goal, the humidity that you hadn't noticed between your legs.

The warmth of her kisses on your folds, in uncharted, virgin territory, was so much more than you had imagined. Her saliva mixed with your arousal, her tongue surrounded your most sensitive spot. The pleasure was unimaginable. You hated books at the time. None of them really said how good it felt to be loved that way.

But impatience began to shake your hips. Your hands scratched her perfect skin, marking her, making her moan from your nervousness.

“Donna, please, I need you,” you said, letting your instincts speak for you, letting the game continue, letting your fears disappear. You wanted to be one, you wanted her body inside of yours. You wanted to merge with her in an eternal, hot, humid embrace.

“Yes, if you want me to stop just...” she said, returning to your lips, letting you enjoy your own essence before placing herself right where she wanted, with the tip of her shaft rubbing your entrance, a sensation that made you moan in delight.

“No, do it, please,” you interrupted, when you felt her fingers running through your wetness, when you noticed her erection pressing against it inevitably. The moment had come, and you wanted it to be that way.

“Okay, relax,” she whispered in a soft tone, studying your gestures again, looking for the insecurity in your erratic movements. “Close your eyes and think about how much I love you…”

You obeyed, gripping her sheets tightly, preparing to truly feel her, to feel what you feared that much.

“Ah...” you complained when you noticed that sting, that pain that scared you. Donna entered roughly, but relaxing you with her caresses.

Your body writhed with that intruder, the pain between your legs joined with that unmatched sensation of having her inside of you. Your walls stretched little by little as her erection slid through them.

Donna couldn't help but moan at the strong grip of your body against hers, at that slight resistance that prevented her from moving.

“Do you want me to stop, my love?” she asked, caressing your cheek, stopping that first intrusion, letting your body slowly adjust, to stop feeling that pain.

“No... It, it hurts a bit...” you whispered, shaking your head. A kiss on your lips helped you to stop squirming. It was a subtle delicacy, a kind and loving treatment. You didn't know what you thought of Donna, but it was the complete opposite.

“I know, calm down, tesoro, hold on a bit, it will pass soon, I promise you,” the lady said in your ear, entering further without stopping caressing you, grabbing the hand that was almost tearing the sheets, squeezing it so you could vent that brief discomfort.

Little by little, you stopped feeling bad. A new sensation began to overshadow that pain, the pleasure. Your body quickly adapted to her shaft, feeling waves of pleasure every time she try to move. Once without pain, only with love, only with that overwhelming feeling, you smiled, realizing that you wanted more.

“Mo, move, please,” you asked, biting your lip. Donna looked at you with a smile, controlling the pleasure she felt, worrying about you and not about herself.

She nodded, fulfilling your request slowly, moaning freely now, now that she knew she was only giving you pleasure.

Love, pleasure, desire, you couldn't feel anything else. Your hips stopped being shy and fell in step with her soft movements. The kisses returned from time to time to your lips, the whispers of love bathed your ears, her caresses made you tremble more and more, until you lost control.

With a surprised gasp, due to your body's reaction, to your muscles becoming hopelessly tense, you felt released, you felt your walls tighten, imprisoning Donna between them.

“Donna, Donna...” you repeated over and over again, feeling your legs trembling, your body surrendered to pure pleasure, to the lust that had no comparison.

She didn't respond, focused now on her own release, one that came unexpectedly, with one last thrust, with a high, timid moan.

The heat made you tense again, the sensation of being hers, of her seed conquering your depths was too much for you, stretching you again into a second orgasm, one that intensified the wet caress running through your walls.

“Was it like you imagined it?” Donna asked, after a few minutes of affection, of innocent hugs, of slow kisses. Your head rested on her chest and your mind screamed with regret for having been such a coward, for having deprived yourself of those incredible sensations.

“I think I'm going to write a book,” you commented amused, playing with her hand. Donna laughed confused.

“A book?” she asked, kissing you quickly, frowning.

You nodded, sighing, relaxing and closing your eyes.

“Yes... None of the books I have read can compare to how you have made me feel...”

[visforvengeance]

heat lightning

Requested by: no one<3

Notes: Howdy! here's chapter twooooo. so i think i should add that it's italicized because all of this in these last two chapters are in the past, before carm becomes the owner of the beef. but the next chapter will be in the present starting from s1.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Warnings: cursing? she/her pronouns. donna is a warning on her own. all angst babey! please let me know if I missed anything and thanks for reading <;3.

masterpost

Y/N sat in the living room with Sugar and Mikey, chaos surrounded them as Donna zoomed around the kitchen. She had to physically restrain Natalie from asking Donna if she was ok. She could see the way her eyes darted between her and the kitchen door behind her. She couldn’t bear to see her friend suffering, so she offered to go with Natalie into the kitchen. Grateful, Natalie held her hand as they approached slowly. 

The mess that covered the kitchen hadn’t phased them one bit as they were used to these things. Y/N softly nudged Natalie forward, still holding her hand tightly as a way of showing support. Natalie looked at the girl beside her and nodded, letting go of her hand. She walked towards the counter, shifting her weight onto it as she took a deep breath, preparing herself for the consequences that could happen. “Hey, mom?” Natalie called out, nervously. “You okay?”

Donna whipped around to look at her daughter. The crazy look in her eyes sent a shiver down Y/N’s spine. “Of course, I’m fucking okay, Sugar. Do you need to ask that every five fucking seconds?!” Y/N shook her head, dragging Natalie away as Donna began yelling about god knows what. She rubbed her friend’s shoulders as she cried into her sweater, softly patting her hair. “It’s ok, babe. Just take a deep breath.” The pair sat outside, Donna’s yelling crescendoed and decrescendoed as Mikey opened and closed the door. He looked tired as he stood over his crying sister. Mikey squeezed in beside the two girls, throwing his arm around Natalie and pulling her into his side. Y/N frowned and looked at Mikey while he began shaking his head. She began heading back inside, before squeezing Nat’s shoulder. “I’ll let you guys know when dinner is ready,” Mikey patted her hand in acknowledgment. 

When Y/N walked back inside, she heard his voice. It caused her to stagger her movements. She hadn’t fully prepared herself to see Carmen when she agreed to this dinner. When they last saw each other, so many things were happening that they didn’t have time for each other. Donna flew around the kitchen like a bat out of hell, Mikey was desperately trying to calm down his crying sister, they each had their respective problem to deal with. Or rather they were choosing to avoid each other like the plague, neither one of them wanted to admit that to themselves. 

Carmen knew that she’d be at the Christmas dinner. Sugar was his way into her life as she’d tell him how Y/N was doing so he didn’t have to ask himself. He really hadn’t meant to distance himself even more from the girl. He hadn’t realized how fucking difficult culinary school could be, or maybe his teacher was just that good at making him feel like shit. Add that on top of what exactly he was missing back home, and his self-doubt. Carmen was struggling with the crippling need to prove himself to his mother and Mikey and everyone ever. But, not himself. Never himself. 

He knew about how well she was doing in school, how her mother was sick, and some guy she was seeing that she liked. That caught his attention. What did he look like? Does he make her laugh? Does he- Natalie had to go. She and this mystery guy plagued his mind heavily, he could hardly focus. He had no one to blame but himself, though. Maybe if he called her more instead of less and remembered to send the gift for her birthday. And, maybe if he wasn’t such a pussy, he could be the one making her smile every morning. Like he used to. 

So, here he stood in his childhood kitchen staring at his childhood best friend/love. He could’ve sworn time moved by slowly, his focus was only on her. She looked a bit older but still the same as the day he left her. Her hair was longer and her body had filled out more. She swapped the colorful graphic hoodies for more neutral-toned clothes like the caramel-colored overcoat that wrapped around her frame loosely. She was still as beautiful as he remembered. For a moment there, he pictured what life would have been like with her if he hadn’t left.

He snapped back to reality when Donna screamed his name for the ninth time and Y/N had gone to help Richie with Tiffany. She didn’t say a word to him before she walked away. He watched as a frown crept onto her features upon discovering he was there. That hurt a bit, but he knew it was the least he deserved. 

She hurried to get away from him. She should’ve known better than to expect that he wouldn’t come but she hadn’t prepared herself for when she saw him. He looked like Carmy but tired. Like the years hadn’t been kind to him. But, his curls still lay wildly against his head. In all directions as if he’d been running his hand through them when he was stressed, something he always did that she adored. The red sweater both hugged his body but fit loosely in a way that only Carmen could pull off. He hadn’t changed one bit. He was still awkward, still looking like he’d been through the worst days of his life. 

She knew that there would be some kind of conversation to happen between them, that was unavoidable. Her mind raced as she thought of everything she felt about him these last two years. Unwavering love, hate, yearning, resentment. It was all too much. She feared that once she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. When it came to Carmen, she always indulged herself. She allowed herself to hang onto his every word. She couldn’t manage that this time. She feared that if she did so, she may lose herself in the end. 

When she came back into the kitchen, in desperate need of Sprite for Tiffany, she walked into a complete shitstorm. Unfazed, though, she walked over to the fridge. Only to find a severe lack of the fizzy drink. Though, she could’ve sworn she told Mikey to get some. She racked her brain figuring out how to remedy the situation, when she suddenly remembered there was an award-winning chef-to-be near. Surely, he’d know how to make something. 

“Carmen,” he wasn’t looking for it, but he heard it. Her soft voice overpowered all the yelling, clear as day, he heard it. He tuned out everything else, giving her his full attention, as always. “What?” What? How can I help? Please let me help. She knew him like the back of her hand, still. He’d do anything for her. “I need you to make some kind of seltzer-y beverage for Tiffany,” she held her hands up in prayer form, silently begging. 

This was the first time he’d spoken to her in years, he hadn’t meant to stare at her all wide-eyed. She snapped him out of his trance, “y-yeah, just give me a minute.” She smiled, grateful for him. Everyone else in the kitchen began spouting mess, taunting Caremn for his skills, She admired him and what he could do. Carmen was beyond talented, she didn’t know how he couldn’t see it. She watched as he moved gracefully around the kitchen, a shocking difference in comparison to Donna. She could watch him all day. He managed to dodge Donna as he handed her ice cold drink, garnished with a single mint leaf and a slice of lemon. She thanked him and handed the drink to Richie who paced around the kitchen, conversing with Donna. 

Mikey and Richie had caught Carmen in the hallway, happily mentioning Claire. Claire was a girl who had a crush on Carmen all throughout grade school and well into high school. During junior year, Claire and Carmen had a fling, which Y/N didn’t like so much. Carmen didn’t force her to third wheel, he always made sure to include her when it was time they hung out with friends. But, it had her wishing it was her instead.

The fucking love of his life, they called her. She listened more as they went on about how her body had changed and she looked more like a woman or whatever, she couldn’t bear to stand it. She thanked god as she heard Carmen protesting. “You fucking what? What the hell do you mean?

“Woah, woah, Carmen, calm down.”  Carmen failed to keep his cool as he listened to his brother. “Bro, no one asked you to fucking do that, what the fuck.” Mikey scoffed, “Hold up. I was just trying to help you out, Carm. Look, I mentioned the fucking Napa thing- I mean the fucking Copenhagen shit, alright?” Carmen contemplated blowing his brains out about this later, he couldn’t believe Mikey. “Why? Like, why are you like this? I’m not in love with her. I mean, we had a fling? In High school? Fuckin 5 years ago? Be serious, guys. Come on.” Their bickering began to grow louder only to be interrupted by Donna. Thank fucking christ.

Y/N roamed the halls aimlessly, for once shit had settled down. She had no one to tend to. She decided to have a seat outside and take a breath of fresh air. What she hadn’t expected was to find Carmen sitting on the stairs before her. She took a seat next to him, placing her hands between her thighs for warmth. “Hi, Carmy.” He jumped as he heard her voice, he really wasn’t expecting her to speak to him. Let alone sit beside him. But, he responded, nonetheless. “Hey,” he hoped she didn’t hear how his voice shook, “hanging in there?” Carmen knows firsthand just how crazy shit can get in his home. 

What the hell could she say to him after 2 years, though? ‘Hey, Carmen. It’s so good to see you. I still want you by the way!’ Fuck. “Barely. You?” Let’s see, his alcoholic mother invited him home for Christmas dinner, and then proceeded to terrorize the entire family. Oh! And, the girl he’s loved his whole life is here, too! The girl he fucking ignored for two years, his best friend. It was all a hot mess. 

“Fucking hardly,” she gave him a smirk. He smiled. Truly smiled for the first time in god knows how long. “After spending the day in this shithole? It gets the best of us, doesn’t it?” He looks out to the street, silently remembering their childhood, “sure does.”

She wanted to know what New York was like, his life there. Was it really so demanding that it cost them their friendship? Or..whatever they had between them. She wasn’t as delusional as Carmen. She stopped denying the fact that there was something more between them and anyone who looked at them could see it too. 

“Was it worth it in the end?” He hadn’t expected her to ask that, he was still processing the fact that she was speaking to him. “Was what worth it?” Carmen, the smartest guy she knew, could be a real dumbass sometimes. She used to think that he was just fucking with her, but he’s really just like that. “The leaving, the ghosting, everything that has happened in the last two years that pulled you away from me.”

She tried to keep her anger down. She hadn’t been able to express her feelings to him because he never answered the fucking phone. Not for her, anyway. She almost forgot what his voice sounded like. She almost forgot how he sounded when he yelled. How he sounded when he told her he loved her. How he cried. How he smelled. She almost forgot him. 

Carmen didn’t know how to answer that. Hell, he asked himself that every day and never came up with an answer. He thought about his time in New York. The new things he learned, his mentors. Was it worth it? “Yes,” he whispered. He looked up into her eyes, and her watery ones stared back at him. “But, if I could do it all over again, I’d take you with me.”

If he could go back to the night he left, he’d kiss her and beg her to come with him. They’d get an apartment together, and she’d attend Columbia University, and they’d be happy. Together. And, she’d go. 

“I loved you, Carmen.” Her voice was low. But it echoed in Carmen's head. Loved? His worst nightmare is in full effect. “I loved you from the moment I first met you. I played it off as just friends being friends but the things I’ve done and the words I said? Friends don’t do that.” He had to have known, right? They were each other’s first kiss. And second. And third. 

“During freshman year, I realized it. When I found out you were dating Claire, it was the worst day of my life. I felt so sick-“ “That’s why you missed school that day.” He thought back on that day. He was so excited to tell her he’d finally got a girlfriend and that it was Claire, the girl he had a crush on. The girl he used to get over her. He remembered how quickly her mood had changed as soon as he told her the news. She told him that she had to do something for her mother and he didn’t hear from her or see her until Monday and everything was fine again. 

Her voice trembled as she spoke, “Then college came and you were leaving and I hated myself for not saying something then. Then college happened and we were fading until there was nothing left.” She turned her head to look at him, sniffling. “How do you stop loving someone you’ve spent most of your life wanting?” How when your whole world is him? The people you hang around, the places you visit, it’s all him. 

“I love you,” he says to her. He shut down any girl that tried to get with him because they weren’t her. “Claire was a pawn. To try and get over you.” He realized how bad that sounded, but he didn’t care, at least he was being honest. “It didn’t work. I spent all my time looking for you in her. She wasn’t you.” You couldn’t even call it a relationship, whatever they had. It lasted 3 days and never got farther than holding hands. He was starting to feel bad for how much he wished Claire was Y/N. So he ended it. 

“I could blame being busy and culinary school for not talking to you but it was just me. I got too into my head, I let myself believe that you deserved better, that your life would be better without me in it.” His voice cracked as he spoke. For the first time in a long time, he was finally being honest. 

“So, you decided for me?” He sighed as he realized that he had decided for her. “I’d have chosen you again and again because, Carmen, you are so much more than you realize.” 

“So, what now?” He had to go back to New York soon. He only has a year left but who knows if he’ll even come back home after?

She starts teaching at her new school next year. Fresh out of college, everything will be crazy. “We’ll see, Carmen.”

[dorkacademia]

the tumblr girlies should stop sleeping on donna tartt's the little friend. it has something for everyone. the waifish coquette dollettecore lana del rey aesthetic preachers. the weirdgirls™. the ones with religious trauma. the southern gothic enjoyers. the has-been formerly rich + stately family enthusiasts. unconventional family lovers. americana advocates. childhood adventures tainted by a dark presence appreciators.

murder past, death everlooming, danger sought, hazy summers and fabricated memories. it feels like a soporiferous, hazy, hot summer afternoon daydreaming about your town's mysteries and making up unseemly explanations for them or reading your favorite childhood adventure book while knowing how it would realistically end.

tw for repeated use of the n word tho

[doctormastertardis]

The "ERA"s of Doctor Who:

I honestly think the "Truman Show" theme this season is BBC/Disney's way of establishing an "alternate reality" for the audience-- sorta like breaking-the-fourth-wall type of "NEW ERA" for Doctor Who. They're literally signaling both OLD fans and NEW viewers: "HI! WE LEFT THE OLD ERA OF DOCTOR WHO, THIS IS A NEW ERA!" I don't think they'll ever explore Fourteen's life with Donna on TV again. I think that part of the Doctor's life is now left to the comic book realities and fandom's imagination.

Thing is, DW has been running for so long that it literally evolved from the outside inwardly, into multiple different timelines and realities. Much like our lives, right?--some only have chapters, others have volumes, others have sequels, prequels, etc.

I personally can categorize the different eras of Doctor Who into the following:

"Classic Who" 1960s - #1-3rd Docs = the real "Classic Who"

"Baker Who" 1970s - #4th Doctor = not sure how to categorize Tom Baker's years; it was certainly a mix of "Classic" AND tech-evolution of the 80s ; I personally call it the "booming era" of DW!

"Psychedelic Who" 1980s - #5-7th Docs = these were the years of "Exploring Gallifrey Mythos"; as well as, exploring the inner philosophies and politics of the Doctor's peoples. This was the "era" when the show's new producers decided to integrate the Doctor's "roots" as a Time Lord into the show's overall continuous adventures.

"Re-Birth Who" 90s/millennium - #8-9th Docs = the era when Time War "goes global"! Production-wise, DW needed a big reason to explain the Doctor's disappearance.

"New Who" early 21st century - #10-12th Docs = "False Memory" years, aka "The Retcon Era" LMAO , aka "The Years of Unnecessary Drama" HEHEHEHEH, aka the "I have lost track of where Gallifrey is era"! HAHAHHAHAH! ...ALL JOKES ASIDE, the Doctor's "re-birth" as a character was exemplified through the process of "re-integrating" all his past lives in the eyes of his NEW companions (Rose, Martha, Donna, Amy, Clara, and Bill). In this series, we see his companions play CENTRAL roles in the advancement of the "Who Narrative". The New Who adventures were basically about the Doctor re-discovering himself through his companions' PERSONAL STORIES.

"Re-Incarnation Who" 2010s - #13-14 Docs = This was the short-run era we just had during the pandemic. The producers wanted very much to revive the show's spark; thus, they took all the Classic Who aspects of the original series and EXPANDED its reality into an ALTERNATE/"FORGOTTEN" TIMELINE. For example, we are given brand new "old characters" like the Fugitive Doctor and her new "old" companions. This "era" gave birth to the ALTERNATE timeline we are now being introduced to....

"Modern Who" 2020s - #15th Doctor and beyond = a mystery.

[bullet-prooflove]

Real World Writing Update!

Hi guys,

As some of you may know on top of my fanfic writing and my work as a book editor, I’ve been working on my own series of cowboy novels.

These are based around the town/ranch called Alabama Pines.

The first three books in the series are as follows:

Changing of the Seasons - Newly divorced Gina isn’t looking for a relationship, she’s too busy trying to rebuild her life after a tempestuous marriage to the meanest SOB in Alabama. Sparks fly when she meets rodeo champion and professional horse man Jameson Stone but it’s a case of bad timing as Jameson takes to the rodeo circuit and Gina struggles to reclaim her identity as a former barrel racer.

Alabama Pines - After a seven year absence Beau Wilder returns to Alabama Pines, the ranch he used to call home to investigate the mysterious circumstances surrounding the death of the woman he loved.  

Wild Bloom  - Twenty years ago Liam Cassidy let the love of his life walk away without a word, now she’s back and he’s determined not to let history repeat itself.

Some of these are based on fics I’ve written on this site so when the time comes I’ll be taking these fics down for now though the stories are different enough that I don’t have to do that yet.

The reason I’m telling you this is because I want you guys to know that I’m making a real go of it as an author.

I’ve created an author website and Insta where you can find out more info about what I am working on and see what I’m up to. You can find these below:

www.donna-costello.com

https://www.instagram.com/donna.costello.author/

If you are interested in me and my works please give me a follow or sign up to my newsletter. I will be posting some updates on here but they’ll be primarily on Instagram moving forward.

Thank you to every single one of you who has supported me over the past year. I was a complete mess this time last year with my mental health and everyone on this wonderful hellsite was so supportive. You all gave me the courage to actually get myself out there and give this crazy shit a shot.

Now a year down the line, I have a successful book editing business that’s booked up until Jan and my short stories have been included in several anthologies. You guys mean the entire world to me and I will forever be grateful.

I hope you’ll join me on this new journey!

All my love

Donna