#enjpy

[angelpuns]

Happy April Fool's Day ;)

For clarification, the last comic was just a joke Over been planning since August :3 Perhaps I will draw more tiny Leo comics in the future tho cause he's really fun to draw <3

( I hate April fools day cause I'm.extremely gullible, but I thought this would be funny and I was correct it was great )

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 12

Synopsis: Reader meets Missy. It's a mixed bag.

A/n: sorry for another delay. Hope you enjoy. More doctor fuckery and allusions to the doctors current devolution. Yay I hope you enjoy yayyy.

What were these truths the Doctor was talking about? At least he was being honest! A damn shame to your overloaded brain, but you appreciated it nonetheless. Maybe you would bring yourself to honestly about your profession after. Maybe. You’d have to test the waters and go off what tonight’s surprise was.

Your heart slammed itself into it's cage.

The next few hours were hell on Earth. What was this secret he was going to reveal?

You always dealt with waiting so poorly…

You got through your final tutoring via the university without nary a hiccup, but your brain combed through all the possibilities you could scrounge from sci-fi shows. What was that one nearly-sixty years old program that the BBC had?

Too late now…

You did sneak home to change into something that didn’t scream ‘lazy’.

Soon it was nearly nine. As you walked to his office, you felt like you were at a wall, breathing your last free breaths before the firing squad came upon you. You worked on your breathing exercises as you went to knock the door.

He was there, illuminated softy. Grey hair fluffed, in a burgundy shirt and hoodie. He looked utterly (and unfairly!) Breath-taking. You felt both underdressed and overdressed.

“Good evening!” He smiled, it was one of those easy, unnerving, comfortable smiles that framed his eyes so well.

“Hey.” Was the best you could muster. Your vocabulary stolen from your tongue as easily as the breath from your lungs over him…

How could someone who was quite literally older than the rededication of the Second Temple look so good?

Alien magic, must be.

“You remember that Missy character?”

“Yeah, her? Them?” You struggled.

“Her.”

“Ah.”

“She’s been on her best behavior. Stunning, really.”

“And?”

“I think you two need to meet. I’ve cleared the idea with her other…Guardian.”

“Oh?”

“Nardole…he’s an egg. I sent him to Norwich for a packet of crisps.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” It didn’t.

You rubbed your lip together in a partial move to rip the skin off, but also to provide some sort of outlet for the nervousness that was still coming up from the pit of your stomach.

What was Missy?

He offered the crook of his arm, “Shall we go?”

You took it.

The walk was nice, silent. The weather was warming up nicely. Mild night.

Soon you went to a place obscured in some hardly-looked after corner in the university’s basement. He pressed some hidden point and the wall snapped in two, revealing some contraption. He unhooked himself from you and started entering codes, some little monitor popped up and scanned his eye.

It asked for a verbal confirmation.

He spoke in some language that made your blood run cold and you feel small. Something about it was haunting. Like singing.

It unveiled another wall with a turn-lock, from which he produced a key and unlocked it.

Finally, it seemed safe to part through.

“What did she do?” You asked, voice husky with fear.

“Enough.” He let a little snort escape.

You nodded and went in.

It was a grand room, a couple of old, antique chairs and some meager side tables faced what was a mighty cage! It looked like glass, on the platform. Inside this guided cage was a woman, in simple Victorian clothes.

She played piano very gently.

“Missy.” The Doctor seemingly pleaded.

The woman inside slammed the lid shut and turned around.

She had the most insane, yet oddly lovely smile. Cat-like.

She was thin.

“Oh…you’ve brought me a plaything?” She grinned.

Her accent sounded Scottish. Like the Doctor.

“Do all aliens sound like Scotsmen?” You blurted out before you could monitor your thoughts.

“I’m sorry!” You amended.

She laughed, it sounded like bells.

“One would certainly hope so!” She responded.

“I’m Missy! Short for Mistress!”

“Oh, I’m (y/n).”

She shot the Doctor some look. He shot her another look. It seemed they were having an entire conversation without you. You felt alienated. You looked between them.

“I’ve heard nothing but good. Typical!” She approached you at the edge of her enclosure. You felt caged. Missy stalked you as if she were a lioness and you were some disabled, freshly birthed gazelle. You started sweating, it dewed down your back.

“Oh!”

“My best enemy.” He elaborated.

You nodded more, at a total loss for words. Your breathing became manual.

“So what did you do?”

“Oh, this girlie is rude! I love it!” She shot the Doctor another look.

“Don’t talk behind my back?” You assumed.

Missy nearly fell over! She started laughing, “Rude and clever! He’s certainly taught you well.”

Your eyes could have shot out of their sockets.

“You’re like Jedi, yeah? Can communicate with your brains?” You explained.

“Sure enough? Jedi are the Lego ones?” the Doctor asked.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy her.” Missy predated you more. Nose pressed against her enclosure.

You got the briefest of synopsis of their entire relationship. You felt yourself blinking from your brain overloading. It felt like someone dumped out your mind and shook the contents up before tossing it all back in, haphazardly.

You swallowed heavily.

“So Time Lords. Do you all have such…intense names? Mistress, Doctor? So is there a Bachelor?” You felt your arms move as if to elaborate this point.

“Different generations have different naming convention. My brother is Irving Braxiatel.”

“Of course. Makes sense. My name’s (y/n) but now all the kids are McKinsleigh or Harley or whatever.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh, my dear Doctor, you have a smart one on your hands. Now how do you like the stars, kiddo?”

You shook your head quickly. “Nope, no stars for me. I’m not going up there. Nope. I know what happens! I’m genre aware. I know what goes down in space. And if you’ve had a lot of dead companions previously…not me. I am not that suicidal!” You felt like a horizontal bobble head of sorts.

“See!” She slapped her thigh. “This one’s got common sense! She’s not going to swan off and get herself killed by a giant bird!”

It seemingly touched a tender point.

“Oh, here you go, bringing up Clara! What’s with you?” He seemed on the verge of spitting. “We’re having such a normal time!”

“Oh, she was my manic pixie dream bitch too!” Missy countered, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary.

You made several notes to bring up later when you were going to bring up some new ground rules for this relationship, if this Missy didn’t tear you to shreds and eat your entrails like a tin of tuna.

The cat metaphors kept coming…

Were Time Lords cats?

No! Cats have barbed penises and that Time Lord you were fond of didn’t…

“May I get a tuba now?” Missy pleaded.

“We’ll see.”

You found yourself fiddling with your necklaces in a very rapid way with one hand. The other twisting the massive gold hoop in your one ear. Nervous habits coming in strong to help you self-soothe in this inopportune moment…

Somewhere the Doctor produced a flask of tea and poured some out, it was herbal. At the moment you couldn’t discern much more than that.

He gave it to all, including Missy, who’s barrier seemed penetrable to him, but not her. As she touched it and it repelled her.

Where did he pull out all these things?

What was the barrier made of? Did it work on genes?

Your mind roared for an explanation.

You reminded yourself to take it in strive. You weren’t working with logic and sanity anymore. You were in some contrived sci-fi story now.

It was the only way that you’d survive this!

Missy asked you something pleasantries involving your studies, and you divulged your grand plans.

“Oh, not overly ambitious. No martyr complex. Doctor this one may survive you.” Her focus splintered.

You felt out of your depth even more. You were taking it in stride, but that felt like it was lacking. Although…an opportunity did arise.

Did you have the guts to take it?

You pondered on. If it did turn nasty, you were outnumbered. Two of these so called ’Time Lords’. One you. One very mortal and squishy you.

Missy seemed to know far more than she probably should. You craved a bit more knowledge.

Shouldn’t you be privy to details about the man you’ve been not only fucking, but falling madly under his spell? And dare you utter it- loved?

“So what’s the deal with you Time Lords?” You asked Missy.

“An ancient race. We’re the pinnacle of evolution. Very few races will or ever will get close. Some have tried, they fail to become as optimized.”

“A bit eugenics-y.” You responded, your brows knitted together.

“Funny collars.” The Doctor chimed in. “That’s the opposite of optimized.”

“Oh, Mister President! How salacious!” She cooed in his general direction.

“President?” Your eyes boggled from their sockets.

“Technically. I’m also the De Facto President of Earth in an emergency. Neither here nor there…”

“And he’s ever so humble! My dear, Doctor. If this were two bodies ago you’d be preening!”

You looked down and blinked hard, as you started to chew on the inside of your cheek.

“Oh, him? Yeah, I was a but more vain. I mean, how could I not? All youth and fire and forged from Rose’s love.”

“And who the hell is Rose?” Your jealousy creeping back in.

“Oh, Doctor! You dog! She was very blonde! Broke many universes trying to find him again!” Missy gaped, as if she had personally sprung this trap.

“She helped me. I was raw from the War. She saw my hearts and that’s all.” The explanation was clearly him trying to not irk any jealousy in you.

“She got a wee clone! They’re in a parallel universe!” Missy simmered up, swinging around on her ankles.

“You are annoying.”

“You could have let Torvic kill me!” She put her hands on her hips and pulled a sour face.

“I’m sorry, who’s Torvic?” You were being bombarded with more information than you could handle.

“I was a soft lad. This kid kept bullying me. He was going to kill me, but here does come ikkle little Doctor with a rock! Bye bye Torvic!” She announced it like she was a wrestling presenter.

“How old were…you all?”

“Ten!” Missy clapped her hands together.

“Death’s champion!” She elaborated with a sick glee, pointing at the Doctor.

“I’m assuming you can…change sexes.” You kept piecing it together. “Were you ever a woman?”

“Maybe next go!” The Doctor said.

You leaned down and rested your fingers on your jaw as if to keep it from falling off onto the ground.

“So…how does that all work?”

“Two hearts, they prevent death and kick in our ancient rights!” Missy flourished.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” The Doctor stepped in. “We get a new face, new body. New chances. We keep our core. But everything from our personality to our kidneys.”

You inhaled.

“Anything else I need to know…assuming that you do that in front of me.” You curbed your attention to the Doctor. You wanted answers and you didn’t want him to give up this particular body. You didn’t want to play this particular game of Russian Roulette. His body right now was perfect…from his hair to his toes. Like it was personally designed to drive you mad. A sexy, silver fox with dynamic light eyes and a smile that robbed you of the ability to breathe, plus that voice like was a good motorcycle engine. And, a perfect package that hit right in the right spots…

You were objectifying an immortal alien.

What had your life become?

“That shit’s…crazy.” You gave an exceedingly reductive statement.

“No promises, but I’ll try.” He gave you a small, reassuring smile…

“Before precious Rose, there was his wife, that Scottish lad, that journalist Sarah Jane Smith, me, that ginger twink who’s name escapes me and probably a few I’m forgetting! And after there was-” Missy smiled a positively evil grin.

You put your hand up and stopped her from going into any more detail.

“Sarah Jane Smith? The mega-journo who always had the hottest stories? The one who was always leaking the top bylines?” You instinctively tore off your thumb nail.

You kept putting your hands up and down. Going to point a finger. You felt like a malfunctioning kettle.

“W-w-what? Do you…see in me?” You raised both of your hands up as you shrugged and struggled. “Universe traveling blondes? Award-winning journalists? A ginger twink? This jailbird?” You voice scaling up octaves to those only dogs could hear as you slapped your hands over your thighs and grasped them tightly…

You started those dratted breathing exercises and placed your right hand on your only heart.

The Doctor seemed to be sorting through some sort of dilemma in his mind.

“Yeah, tell her!” Missy cheered.

You shot her a murderous glare.

She scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue.

“I see you as warmth. You are yourself. I see you as someone who’s good. Despite it all. A good student and a great partner. Someone to enjoy while I can. Nothing to complicate or drag into danger.”

Something about these words and his gaze into you had you fighting these words, but becoming placated by them. They were like a cozy quilt on your worries…

“I’ve put others I loved in danger. Learned those lessons. Never again.”

You felt your mind slowing down from the anger and self-doubt.

It felt like truthfulness. You’d take truthfulness.

The looks that Missy and the Doctor passed between each other has you shiver in fear.

You felt like you needed to vomit.

“Can I go home now?” You squeaked out once you felt a but more emotionally regulated.

“Of course.” He helped you up and turned to Missy, “No tuba.” He told her.

She raged on a bit as you felt yourself being tucked into his side and escorted out.

You leaned against a wall as he locked the Vault up.

He folded you under his arm.

“So what do you think of my best enemy?”

You felt yourself feeling suddenly very sleepy and like you had been dreaming. You were very conflicted and of many minds. You would have to work through all this later. There was just so much information and new thoughts that needed evaluated. Though you felt something holding you back from it. The emotional toll of the past few days, inevitably catching up to you.

What was that something was holding you back?

Probably your love of the Doctor.

You felt yourself crying.

“Why don’t I walk you to your flat? What’s the address?” He wiped your face with some old-fashioned looking hankie.

You gave him your address. It was a longer walk, but maybe it would do you good.

You started to walk. It was going somewhat smoothly.

After a silent walk, you stated as you got closer to the safety of your home. “I think she’s insane. Probably it’s for the best she’s in that…situation. Like sectioning, but worse? She could be fun, if she tried. I feel…yeah. I mean, if you’re a package deal. A bit weird she’s your ex. But yeah.” You answered his previous question.

“Is she a threat? To me?” You asked, jealously.

“No, we’re finished. Ancient news far older than your civilization…”

“Ah, okay.” You felt more satisfied.

“She is quite…pretty.” You remarked.

“Hadn’t noticed.”

You nodded, as you arrived to the front door.

“This is me.” You pointed. “You…want to come up? Get a night cap. I know I’m going to need it.” You joked, as you used your pinky nail to scratch the bridge of your nose.

“Not tonight. How about after you finish exams? I still have to some things done in that regards.”

“Valid.”

He leaned down and pressed hip lips to your forehead.

“Good-night, (y/n).” He smiled as he closed his hand over yours and gave it a squeeze.

“Good-night, Doctor.” It still felt strange to not call him ‘Professor’. You didn’t know how to feel. Calling him ‘Professor’ felt better coming off your tongue.

So much to over-analyze.

You opened the door and went up to your flat. After pouring yourself a large shot of vodka to take, you laid on your favorite chair and zoned out.

So much for a normal, nice time at university!

[exiled-cards]

@addaxbones

[king-of-aces-art]

I drew my baby's Cyberpunk character! A lot of red lmao-

[aiki-art]

unidentified fucking thang.

[slimejugular]

[im-bored-so-i-draw]

day 17 of posting whatever doodle i have until i accpet an uni..

BAC again 👍

[sleepanonymous]

Hey the guys are going around. Bringing warm beverages and love. Because you’re amazing. 🫶

I missed my timeframe in answering this a few days ago, I'm sorry

[vvindication]

what if you forced yourself into my mind and memories. and we were both guys

[bloodenjoyer]

Beatlemanic episode

[chronicowboy]

180 years of searching, and I'm three feet away (from you) | 32k

AKA The National Treasure AU in which buck is a huge history nerd, chimney is a tired tech guy and eddie is just trying to do his job

Dr Diaz's eyes flick from Chimney to Buck and his cheeks flush a pretty pink that Buck wants desperately to taste. He doesn't miss the sweep of his body Dr Diaz does, or the way he averts his eyes when he realises he's been caught.

Chimney nudges him, barely concealing his amusement at the situation, and jerks his head at the two seats in front of the desk.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Dr Diaz says as he stands up to greet them.

"Hi." Chim shakes his hand good-naturedly. "Howard Han."

Eddie turns to Buck, and something charged and heavy passes between them before Buck can remember to, you know, be human and shake the pretty man's hand.

"Uh, Evan Buckley. Its n-nice to meet you, Dr Diaz."

"Please," he clears his throat, "call me Eddie."

"Eddie." Buck nods, savouring the weight of the name on his lips.

"Take a seat."

They all sit down and Buck is alarmingly aware all of a sudden just how insane they're about to sound.

"Is, um, Eddie short for Eduardo?" Buck asks, a poor attempt to prolong the time when Eddie doesn't think he's talking to someone who belongs in an asylum.

"Edmundo." Eddie smiles at him, and Buck's eyes catch on a picture of a curly-haired boy with crutches on the shelves behind him. He's quite possibly the cutest kid Buck has ever seen.

Another frame catches his attention then, this one displaying an almost complete set of George Washington's campaign buttons.

"Wow." Buck traces a gentle finger down the side of the frame. "This is a beautiful collection."

"It would be." Eddie huffs. "If I could find the seventeen-eighty-nine inaugural."

"I found one once." Buck murmurs, a plan already forming in his head. He's been told a few times that his love language may be gift giving. Or acts of service. Or words of affirmation. So he's a love polyglot, so what?

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the bewildered look Chimney is shooting him and clears his throat, blushing deeply.

"You, um," Eddie fiddles with a biro, "told my assistant that this was an urgent matter?"

"Uh, yes, sir." Buck barely resists the urge to face palm. Sir? Maybe he does belong in a fucking asylum. Chimney's never going to let him live this down. "Okay, so, I'll get straight to the point." Buck sucks in a deep breath and summons all the tact he has. "Someone's going to steal the Declaration of Independence."

Eddie blinks, slumping back into his seat. He stares at them blankly but, to his credit he manages not to laugh. He turns to Chimney who only shrugs.

"Its true." He grimaces. "Sounds crazy, but the woman is relentless. She wouldn't let a few hundred security measures stop her."

"Okay." Eddie drops the pen and folds his hands together, resting them on the tabletop and leaning forward in a way that makes his biceps bulge. "I think maybe you should talk to the FBI."

"Been there, done that." Chim mutters.

"And?"

"And they assured us that the Declaration cannot possibly be stolen." Buck answers. "But—"

"Well, the FBI would be right." Eddie's eyes dart to the phone and Buck pleads with the universe for even the slightest chance.

"We're not so sure." Buck leans forward. "However, if we were given the chance, the privilege, to examine the document—" Eddie cocks his head with a frown. "We'd be able to tell you if it were in any danger."

"And what would you be looking for?" He asks, exasperated and a little intrigued.

"We believe," Buck winces slightly, "that there's an encryption on the back."

"Like a code?" Eddie frowns, eyes dancing with mirth.

"Yes, sir." Buck closes his eyes and rolls them at himself. Welp, may as well lean into the crazy.

"Could you clarify?"

"A cartograph," Buck says at the same time Chimney mumbles,

"Treasure map."

Eddie's eyebrows jump halfway up his forehead.

"What my colleague means to say," Buck butts in, "is a map of..." Fuck, there's really no good way to put this. "Hidden items," he clears his throat, "of historic and intrinsic value."

Eddie stares blankly again.

"If it makes you feel any better," Chim whispers, "this is where we lost the FBI."

"You're treasure hunters." Eddie sighs and drops his head into his hands. God, even his exasperation is sexy.

"Treasure protectors might be more accurate." Buck corrects gently.

"Mr Buckley, I have personally seen the back of the Declaration," that really shouldn't make Buck hot under the collar, but he's a history buff, sue him, "and I promise you the only thing there is a notation that reads—"

"Original Declaration of Independence, dated four of July. Yes, sir."

Eddie flounders for a moment and, yeah, its a little disconcerting just how hot someone reciting historical facts can be, Buck can attest to that.

"But no map." Eddie recovers.

Buck bites back a groan and shoots a pained look at Chimney who only shrugs helpfully.

"Its... Invisible."

"Right." Eddie nods slowly.

"And that's where we lost the Department of Homeland Security."

"May I ask what led to your theory on this invisible map?"

"We found an engraving on the stem of a two-hundred year old pipe." Buck answers.

"A Mason's pipe." Chim clarifies.

"Can I see the pipe?" Eddie brightens.

Fuck.

"We don't, um, have it?" Chim offers.

"Did," Eddie leans forward, looks left and right, lowers his voice," did Mothman take it?"

(read on ao3)

[bedforddanes75]

whys liam gallagher just so fit

[cuntycadaver]

Rupaul: good luck….and dont fuck it up 😌

Mama Pao: if you fuck up this lip sync so help me god i will murder you and throw your body in the river

[mercutiodidntdieforthis]

You know what? The other night, I came across this popular IG account that was posting all the "different levels" of the backrooms, with all this new lore that they seemed to be just making up and stating as canon. And for like, 1 hour, I was like, "this is so fucking stupid. Stop taking cool horror concepts and then overly explaining them until they stop being cool. I can't believe the backrooms got ruined."

But then an hour passed, and I remembered that the original backrooms stuff literally still exists. It's not like it's been deleted by the new content, so it's fine. Yeah, maybe if I say "I think the backrooms are cool," someone might be like, "what your favorite level :D??" But I'm sure if I said, "oh actually I like the OG version that's just one level," they'd almost definitely be like "oh cool :)!"

Anyways so that's me being on my soapbox for a hot second. I do think this is how I should try to think about stuff I find cringe or unnecessary, but like, I am not pretending that I am always this mature about it LMAO

Also I don't wanna detract from my message, so to be clear, even I liked absolutely nothing about any of the new lore, this would still stand. That being said, thinking about it again, I think some of the new artwork is rly creative and pog

[m0th-t33th]

bunny :)

[highlifeboat]

Yeah, we get second hand account of what happened, so it's not exactly clear what happened. But Hewie Emmirich definitely intended to kill his step-daughter, let's focus on that :p

Oh, no, there are clones involved. Who do you think Eva's children are?😁 (No, they not her clones. She's surrogate mother :p She even got codename "Big mama", because of that🤣)

Unrelated, but Doctor Strangelove (not her real name, btw. Her staff called her that, because... Well, she was openly a lesbian :p That's right, that woman literally reclaimed a slur!)

Her death definitely something tho: Killed by a raging heterosexual man, by being locked inside her old female lover, resurrected as an AI :p

What... Kind of wack ass shit is happening in the Metal Gear Solid lore.

wait is this shit like Si-Fi type cause nothing I've ever seen from these games has ever given that impression.