#i’m rambling i just really love clara and twelve okay

[hetchdrive]

anyway back to Clara and Twelve. The thing is that I think Twelve is exactly the person Nine and Ten are afraid they are. And Rose and Jack and Martha and Donna, the Doctor loves them because they hold him to a higher standard than he holds himself, they make him better. But for that exact reason he ultimately finds reasons to push them away and leave them behind and justify that they’re better off without him, because he doesn’t feel that the good person they see him as is real (this isn’t true, goodness isn’t an inherent trait it is a series of choices and an action and they do make him good).

But Clara… he tries to get rid of her and she keeps coming back. He regenerates into someone, not who can love this woman who loves him, but into someone who no longer feels the need to pretend at goodness. Twelve is the person Nine and Ten fear they are because he doesn’t have to hide that from Clara. Clara sees the whole broken unpleasant mess of him and still wants to be there anyway (Rose and Jack and Martha and Donna also saw this but the Doctor is multiple traumas stacked together in a coat and wasn’t ready to accept that from any of them— a thousand year pass between Ten’s regeneration into Eleven and Eleven’s regeneration into Twelve).

It’s why when he asks her, “answer me honestly: am I a good man?” and she says, looking surprised, “I don’t know” I always wonder, does that matter to Clara? Does that figure into her interest in him at all? Or is her role as carer (“I care so he doesn’t have to”) sort of perfunctory, secondary to her thrill in the action and the danger and the power rush of it all?

And Danny sees what’s going on even though Clara can’t, tells her that he knows people like the Doctor becuase he served under them in the army. Understands why Clara loves it because the Doctor pushes her to be better and faster and stronger but one day, Danny thinks, he’ll push too hard and Clara will leave. I think the Doctor thinks that, too, that if he keeps testing and keeps pushing eventually she’ll realize it does matter if he’s a good man and she’ll leave, but when she tries to she changes her mind. He tricks her and he uses her and he lies to her and she still comes back and she justifies it as it being an addiction, but the truth is that she pushes him back. Nine and Ten desperately want to be something more than a soldier, more than the Last Time Lord, and Twelve wants to acknowledge that he always will be no matter how much he tries to run from that (a thousand years of running in between Ten and Twelve) and he wants someone there who sees and values that. Which is why the reveal that Missy found Clara and threw her his way is so delicious, just… *chef kiss*

[isagrimorie]

[initial reactions] Doctor Who - Revolution of the Daleks

TLDR: I liked it! But I do have some nitpicks. But bottom line, I liked it! Especially the exit! 

Apologies going in, if it’s rambling and incoherent.

First off, I’m going to get my criticisms out of the way:

- They really need to hire these two people:

a) Sensitivity readers

b) They need to have people of color in charge of casting. Andy Pryor has done a great job casting people but. Since they opened up casting more actors of color to be more diverse... most people in guest roles die. So it ends up being Not A Great Look.

It’s the kind of breezy: We’re hiring more actors of color without really considering the optics of it. Colorblind casting in this way shouldn’t be colorblind. More diversity behind the scenes is needed, especially in casting.

Colorblind casting isn’t representation. Execs have to consider how it looks that a black man is helping create ‘Security Drones’ for the government.

c) I get why Jack Robertson lived, and I’m actually okay with it because I know Chibbs is going somewhere and he’s interconnecting Specials to be their own kind of continuity, so next Special or series we will have Robertson appearing. But I can’t believe the Doctor believed Robertson. Unless she’s really learned from not interfering with politics, but man I wish there’s more vindication to that. I do have a sense of where this is going though, more on that later.  

d) I wish they’d gone harder with the Dalek = Police thing.

e) I really kind of wish the Doctor escaped on her own.

And now for my thoughts and the happy!

RYAN! I LOVE RYAN. I LOVE RYAN BEING EMOTIONALLY MATURE AND PUSHING BACK ON THE DOCTOR. It felt... earned that they do and, Ryan’s always been the more hesitant of the three and the more grounded. I love that it’s Ryan that the Doctor confided in, I’ve always felt like Ryan was the one Thirteen connected to the most after Grace died. And I love his development, ever since Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos Ryan is the first to quote the Doctor back to herself from the guns rule and now here to ‘New can be scary’, reminding the Doctor of her own words.

But also, I love that Ryan felt more connected to Earth, with his friends. Yaz was always the one who looks to the horizon. I like that Ryan pushed back on the smokescreen the Doctor tried to put up. Ryan was tired of the smokescreen. He had 10 months to work on his feelings about it and realized... he liked being home.

I wish we saw more what they were doing at home, like what Chibnall wrote for the Ponds in Power of Three. I did see this was his arc he was building to.

I liked that Graham was torn but eventually his loyalties are with Ryan.

I honestly think the fam thought the Doctor was just gone for a week, her time.

Also: FINALLY A COMPANION EXIT WHERE THEY’RE THE ONES WHO WALK AWAY. And because it’s time.

NO MORE TRAPPED IN A PARALLEL UNIVERSE OR DYING OR BEING CONVERTED PLEASE. Anyway, that is why I was vindicated because I was getting pretty antsy at all the twitter posts almost gleeful at the thought of companion death.

Nope. No more please. No more world ending, universe ending, heartbreaking ends. I want a Jo Grant walk away, and that is what happened. (Er, I hope we don’t get a Tegan leaving from Yaz, though. Sad and disillusioned walk away).

Yaz. Oh, dear, Yaz, who seems to have tossed her career away running after the Doctor’s shining star. I loved her conversation with Jack, he was a nice contrast and sounding board. Also, Jack was much kinder to the Doctor because they didn’t miss each other, the Doctor (according to RTD’s retcon) deliberately left Jack on Satellite Five.

Yaz is willing to run and jump without looking because of the Doctor and I love that we got her feelings about this.

And, of course, the Doctor. The moment Ryan said she missed 10 months, I felt she knew the clock was ticking on her ‘fam’. She’s trying to be good to them and do right by them.

(The Doctor knows Ryan’s ready to leave, she knew it. She’s trying to be in denial about it. But she knows).

It’s a small detail but when she processed the ‘ten months’ bit, she quickly looked to Ryan. Because if it’s one of the subtext things around is that she wanted to be a better father to Ryan than his real dad. But she still skipped out on him unknowingly.

The way he just brushed it off, because the worst part is. Ryan is used to it.

It’s sad that the Doctor opening up to the fam was brought on after a decades’ long solitary, and probably a promise to be better. But, she calculated wrong, or the TARDIS deliberately chose to go to that time. Whatever the case, just when she’s opening up to them is when Ryan decided his time with the Doctor was at an end.

God, the moment when Thirteen said: “Mostly... angry.”

I felt this. hard.

I think it was @ssaalexblake​ who mentioned that Thirteen acknowledging she’s angry might help with all of Thirteen’s repressed anger issues. And I think these are baby steps towards that.

She’s actually been so angry for so long, but she kept pushing it down. Like I said, Thirteen, in a way, reminds me of Raylan Givens of Justified. People think he’s mild mannered, but as his ex-wife amicably opined, Raylan was the angriest man she knew.

And I feel this for this Doctor but at least, now she’s addressing it. The first step in fixing a problem, is identifying the problem.

This was made in 2019. Thirteen being in a repeating lockdown felt very 2020 to me. The things that made me go: Oof, was the Harry Potter thing, the Doctor’s always loved HP. Unfortunately it’s post-2020 hindsight where we go: whoof.

I love Thirteen still mouthing off and being obnoxious towards other Doctor Who baddies. The Weeping Angel thing is cool and so are the Silents. BUT ALSO THE DOCTOR CALLED THE P’TING TINY! AND SHE TRIED TO EAT THE PRISON BARS. 

And then, of course, being more obnoxious with the Daleks. It’s pretty clear the difference in rawness of the Doctor’s feelings for the Daleks and the Cybermen. The Daleks’s an old ember. Her feelings for them are ice cold. A purity of feeling. The Daleks are evil and she has no compunction on killing them, the Cybermen? More personal and a raw nerve.

She’s willing to be cold towards the Daleks. 

I really like that Yaz has more skin in the game, and she knows what she can lose now. And after her talking with Jack, after seeing his perspective on it, and from his words knows that sometimes the Doctor just disappears from people’s lives.

And I love the pushback:

Skewered.

But true because she is trying to stay still and be with the fam and not leave them. But the unfortunate truth is, the Doctor does run away, and the Doctor does leave people behind and a lot of the times, the Doctor doesn’t come back because they’re an emotional coward.

The thing about Thirteen is she’s probably the longest of the Doctors to not disappoint her companions. She’s always managed to stop bad guys and always been there for them.  It’s an impressive track record for the Doctor. She’s built herself up in their eyes as someone they can rely on, and then she failed them by not getting back to them in time.

It’s not her fault, and none of them know how long it’s been for the Doctor, by the way she’s asked them I feel like they think she’s only been gone for a week.

Honestly, I’m impressed how the Doctor didn’t make it about her -- being in prison for longer than they thought. She’s looking at it from their point of view, because she already knows what big leaps in time would affect her friends.

TBH Revolution of the Daleks felt like shades of Last Christmas in that the Doctor regretted missing out time with her companion/s. In Last Christmas, the Doctor got his time back with Clara, in RotD, time passed.

Back to the Doctor and the Daleks tho.

This reminded of Twelve’s: “You are monsters. That is the role you seem determined to play. So it seems I must play mine. The Man that stops the Monsters.”

(Look, Chibnall’s Moffat references aren’t as sledgehammer, but he does reference a lot of Moffat’s things.).

Except with Thirteen, I’m actually more terrified. Jodie does this thing where her eyes goes black and she kind of disappears into herself, this is what happened here. This promise isn’t actually good IMO.

This is not a comforting face. This is a ‘I’m gonna kill a whole boatload of Daleks face and I’m not sorry, in fact I might enjoy doing that’ face.

(And, a brief aside to Robertson, I feel like the Specials have their own kind of special ‘movie’ continuity and more of his story will play out in the Specials, where hopefully he will get his comeuppance because, to me, I feel that’s where it’s going. This is more groundwork laying.

I don’t like it when the Doctor interferes with Human affairs, especially government -- because look what happened with Harriet Jones and how the Doctor broke the Golden Age. Also, I don’t want real world leaders to exist in the Whoverse because I want them to have a completely different track from us. So. Yeah, New Year’s Specials have their ongoing storyline. I’m actually not mad about it, and I enjoy Mr. Big’s performance. He’s a sleezeball. A sleezeball that knows more now. (He isn’t T rump but he isn’t better either). At least I find him enjoyable and not outright offensive. I’m okay seeing him again for the next Specials. I hope next time he does get his comeuppance.)

Now, the goodbyes:

 The HUG.

We’ve been waiting for the Doctor to be more physically affectionate with the fam, and it took the Doctor being locked down for decades (maybe?), and Ryan and Graham leaving for her to hug them. And we’re all right, Thirteen gives great hugs.

The feeling Thirteen’s been running away from is here, sadness. It’s good that Yaz decided to stay other wise... she’s just going to run headlong into forgetting her problems, Doctor Style.

And again, learning and re-learning things: ‘It’s okay to be sad.’

Oh, Thirteen.

(Before Twelve, I don’t think I was this sympathetic to the Doctor -- no wait, I was with Nine. Ten and Eleven tested my patience but it’s with Twelve and Thirteen where I’m 100% invested in the Doctor.

I also love that they’re kind of soft touching the Timeless Child thing, and as someone on twitter mentioned, this feels like an examination of an adoption story. The Doctor is going to search for their identity, their home).

I honestly wish Jack stayed in the TARDIS with Thirteen and Yaz. Jack’s a great balance, especially pushing back at the Doctor and her tactics. Her NUCLEAR tactics. I am glad that the Doctor’s still a dick to Jack, not much of an asshole as they were when the Doctor was Ten but still a dick.

Also, one thing I really love about Barrowman is that when he’s in Doctor Who, he knows it’s not his show and he doesn’t showboat, and the man can showboat. 

I’d rather Jack than random guy that I didn’t even know was gonna happen until very late.

Anyway, TLDR to all this: I enjoyed this very much! Still a lot to be parsed through in things that needs to be parsed through as I mentioned, but on the whole? I loved it.

[expelliarmus]

Doctor Who Tag Game

An excuse to ramble on about my favourite dumb show??? Thank you for tagging me (again) @sopheirion!! :D

I’m not going to tag anyone but you can say I tagged you if you want to do it!

Favourite Doctor: MY BOY TEN!! ALSO ELEVEN! I LOVE THEM BOTH SO MUCH ;o; And please please please get Matt Smith on board at Big Finish and then have them MEET UP AGAIN that would honestly be the dream. But I’ve loved all the multi Doctor stories in the comics too, so I mean they have met up more than once, but still, you can never have enough of them in my opinion. :’) But that being said, I LOVE TWELVE so much I’m so proud of him and how much he grew. AND I LOVE NINE. AND THIRTEEN IS MY GIRL no matter what the writers decide to do with her. As for the Classic boys, I love Three and Four and Five. Also Two. AND ONE. And EIGHT. Well actually I love THEM ALL!!!! But to be fair, I haven’t watched much of Six and Seven... it’s okay, I still love them.

Favourite Master: Missy!! I miss her so much, she would have been amazing with Thirteen... even though I know Michelle was saying that Peter was her Doctor and she wouldn’t feel right going up against anyone else. :( I’m excited to hear her second Big Finish series! I still really liked that story in her first series about that clock...

Favourite Sonic: Oh gosh, I don’t know. Maybe Eleven’s just because it springs out and the way Matt waves it around?? (also because my Eleventh Doctor sonic is broken and doesn’t close anymore because I clicked it open one day and the springs snapped........... I need to buy a new one) Also Thirteen’s sonic is just really pretty and I love how my version has the crystal spinning around and the orange/gold lighting is just very very nice. (But actually I love them all shhh)

Favourite Companion: DONNA NOBLE ALWAYS. Clara Oswald is a very very close second though. :’) I miss them both very much and I hope they can come back one day. And (I don’t know why I’m doing a top 3 but) I love Amy Pond!! Just thinking about how much I cried when Amy left and THEN HOW MUCH I CRIED WHEN ELEVEN SAW HER BEFORE HE REGENERATED....... rip

Favourite Story: Blink still remains my most favourite episode ever. I just love the Weeping Angels and the timey-wimey-ness of it all. But does this mean like favourite story arc... hmmm I guess the missing planets from series 4, and the cracks in time in series 5 because I love series 4 and 5 lots.

Favourite Soundtrack: I HAVE TOO MANY FAVOURITES so here we go:

I am the Doctor - I can literally listen to this on repeat every single day, I miss Eleven’s theme SO MUCH

The Long Song - SO BEAUTIFUL I listen to this one every day lmao

The Wedding of River Song

Song of Freedom

A Pressing Need to Save the World

Clara’s theme

The Shepherd’s Boy

The Sad Man With a Box

This is Gallifrey

Vale Decem

All the Strange Creatures

This Time There’s Three of Us

The Majestic Tale (of a Madman in a Box)

The Sun’s Gone Wibbly

Basically, I miss Murray Gold a lot... Haven’t listened much to the series 11/12 soundtracks yet to have definite favourites from Segun Akinola but they’ll come along eventually. :)

Dream Actor for next Doctor: Idris Elba!! Or bring in Jo Martin to take over once Jodie chooses to move on. :D Richard Ayoade would also be hilarious lmao. Or Eddie Redmayne just because Newt Scamander reminds me so much of Eleven.

Dream Composer: Oooh, maybe Lorne Balfe. The music he composed for His Dark Materials is wonderful!!! Maybe a bit more on the epic side than is needed for DW, but yeah!

Dream Story: The Doctor at Disneyland, and specifically that all the animatronic dolls in come to life (or they’re all Autons!!) and want to take over the Earth!! Or actually, doesn’t matter what the story is about, as long as the Doctor goes to Disneyland hehe.

A companion you’d like to see back: DONNA :’( and Kate and Osgood!! BRING BACK UNIT. And Clara and Bill would be the easiest to bring back - they’re out there in space somewhere, Doctor!! You just gotta find them! AND MARTHA! Though I really liked that Thirteen met her in the comics. :’)

An Enemy/Alien/Creature you’d like to see again: Weeping Angels!! Also the Time Lords...... bring Gallifrey back again ;o; WHERE IS ROMANA??? Give me the Rani too while we’re at it!

If you could travel with one of the Doctors, which Doctor and why?: Ten, just because I love him the most, but also professor Twelve. I would love to attend the Doctor’s lectures because honestly, what is he going to talk about today?? Who knows!!! I love that text post that’s about Twelve throwing darts or flipping open a dictionary at random to decide what he’ll lecture on because that would honestly be how the Doctor decides lmao. And I would just like to be there to see Twelve and Nardole bicker.

Yay, that was fun!! :’) And I started the book about Ace and Thirteen today! Maybe I’ll make a gifset now, idk. I haven’t really done anything today except attend an online staff meeting for an hour and then I just finished reading Deathly Hallows the rest of the day...... okay bye

[girl-in-the-library]

Rambling about Doctor Who? In this economy?

I’m in the process of catching up with Doctor Who. I had stopped a while ago most of the way through Capaldi’s second season, after having stopped for a long time before watching his first season and a half.

Well, I just watched Capaldi regenerate into Jodi Whittaker and I have some things to say. This is primarily focusing on the end of Clara’s run as a companion and Bill’s story, because it’s been a while since I watched that first part of Capaldi and Clara, and even longer since I watched anything before that. I came back to catch up because I’d been seeing gifsets of Nine and Ten, and I miss them so, so much. But I decided I wanted to catch up before going back and doing an entire rewatch of New Who (I have no idea anything about Classic Who, honestly...and there’s so much that’s missing and I have no idea where to get the rest of it anyway).

Point is. I have feelings. Some good. Some bad. And they’re going under the cut.

First things First: I hate Steven Moffat.

All his episodes are the worst! Whenever his name would come up as the main writer credit, the episode was trash! Of course, some were more trash than others, and some were good ideas, but they all got the Doctor so, so wrong.

Two egregious examples that I hated, both from Moffat written episodes:

In “The Husbands of River Song,” River gives this whole big speech about how she’s the woman who loves the Doctor, but he will never love her, because that’s like looking at a sunset and asking it to love you back...or something like that. The Doctor would never come for her, because she wasn’t important enough.

That’s wrong on two big levels. 1! The Doctor is the Doctor because he loves. Nine was broken because he was so hurt, and he had forgotten how to love. Rose taught him to love again, and brought him back from the brink of self-destruction. I dislike the idea of the Doctor and River being a couple because I think Steven Moffat wrote it very, very badly (just like...a random woman comes out of nowhere and claims to be the Doctor’s wife! And then she is...because she is?) However, she is, in fact, the Doctor’s wife, as written, and he /does/ love her. She /is/ important to him. And the fact that she doesn’t think so just proves a misunderstanding in character and out of character. The second point? That she’s not important enough? She’s obviously important enough for the Doctor...but the other point is that that shouldn’t matter.

Nine once said that he had never met anybody who wasn’t important. But later on in the episode about the Monks that had taken over, Bill asks why the Doctor puts up with humans if he finds them so ridiculous. And the Doctor says something about “every so often I meet one like you [Bill]” and that makes up for putting up with the rest. No! The Doctor loves humanity! AND EVERYONE IS IMPORTANT TO HIM.

The thing about the Doctors that Moffat has written...both Eleven and Twelve (and the War Doctor, I guess too) is that specific people are important to those Doctors, and the Doctor would do anything for them. Anything for Amy, for Rory, for River. For Clara. For Bill. And they fail, but they fail doing things to save these specific people, not necessarily for their sakes, but for his own. And then they would die, and he would be sad, but there would be no consequences for his actions. 

Nine and Ten loved Rose, but Ten left her behind /twice/ because he needed to. Martha got herself out. And Ten erased Donna’s memories to save her life. He lost them, in the end. And it hurt him. And he continued on, learning because of it. He died and regenerated twice because of his love for people. But there were still consequences for everyone around him, as well as himself. Sad things happened.

But Amy, Rory, River, Clara, and Bill? He hung on to them until they were burned away, but they were all fine in the end. Amy and Rory were there for a long time, but then the weeping angels sent them back, and the Doctor couldn’t see them anymore, but they were totally fine and grew old together. River died the first time the Doctor met her, but he clung to her for centuries (without proper character development, I tell you!) until she eventually died, but her whole life was centered around the Doctor. Clara he did everything he could to save, including break the laws of time. And he still lost her but also she was totally fine at the same time, traveling across time and space with Asheildr/Me in their Diner TARDIS. And Bill? Bill literally was turned into a Cyberman because of the Doctor’s hubris. He couldn’t save her. But she ended up okay anyway.Why? Because after she died as a human, then died as a Cyberman, she lived as something else, along with Heather, and got some sort of happily ever after (until she ultimately died again, but that’s off screen, we see her memories.) And then the Doctor got HIS memories of Clara back! So there were no consequences!

The Doctor as Moffat wrote them had no regard for life. They loved specific people, and specific conditions, except when Humanity was in Danger, and then he was The Big Damn Action Hero. But he also turned all of humanity into murderers when he basically brainwashed them into killing the Silence on sight, because otherwise they wouldn’t remember seeing them (this happened in Amy and Rory’s time, but it’s relevant).

In one episode, he tells the executioners to look up the Doctor under cause of death, and they flee out of fear for just how many people wound up dead because of him. In the next, he berates Missy for just how many people has she killed? It’s inconsistent.

The Doctor is a Perfect Hero, when he needs to be, and a Perfect Killer, also when he needs to be. “The Doctor of War” - as the glass memory people call him (I can’t even remember what they were called even though I just watched the episode) - isn’t who the Doctor is...but it’s who Moffat made him. 

And of course, almost every major plotline ends up with Moffat’s favorite trope: The Big Friendly Reset Button. Because what does it matter if things happen? There’s time travel and everything will be okay for Earth in general and the people we care about, even if it’s not actually okay.

I hate Steven Moffat. I do think he has some good ideas! The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances were some of my favorite episodes! I just think he can’t be allowed to be in charge.

I also hate Clara’s Magic Tears that make the Doctor do something he wasn’t going to do (that it would have made sense for him to do) just because she cried. Like...in the 50th. When she cried and told the Doctor that pushing the button wouldn’t be like him. That he couldn’t do that to his entire civilization. But the thing is...he already did. His character development was based on that. And it changed him. But then, Clara cried, and he didn’t. And it was like the Time War never happened. (What I think would have been great would have been if the three Doctors decided to push the button together. They had made the decision in the past as Eight/the War Doctor. Now, together, as the War Doctor, Ten, and Eleven...knowing everything they had been through and everything the universe had been through...they pushed the button to make the decision they knew needed to be made. But they didn’t do that. Clara cried and they didn’t do that. And then it wasn’t like the War even mattered anyway, because literally nothing changed). But I digress. There was another time or two that Clara cried and the Doctor did something stupid, but I forget the specifics right now.

Now, from the bad to the questions.

Why are the Time Lords? Where are the Time Lords? If they’re back, how come they’re not interfering more, especially as they were looking for the Doctor? If they’re not back, then why are they there?

What was with the orphanage thing on Gallifrey? Is that where the Doctor grew up? Is this a question that was answered in Classic Who, or earlier New Who that I just don’t remember, or did Moffat just shove in a confusing backstory then not answer questions about it?

Why was Missy being executed? And speaking of Missy, why couldn’t she still call herself the Master, just because she was female? 

Who was that child in the picture on the Doctor’s desk in the office at the university? The one in the frame next to River’s frame? I feel like this is something I just don’t know...not something that wasn’t explained.

How old is the Doctor? That’s been all over the place for a long time now. 

How did Bill survive the mind-thing with the monks?

I had more questions but I forgot them.

And from the questions to the good.

I liked Bill! I liked Bill a lot! I feel like I never got the sense that she developed any sort of relationship with the Doctor, that it was just like...she was a student and then suddenly they were super important to each other, but I guess that’s how it goes sometimes.

I actually really loved Capaldi! I thought he could be a great Doctor if he wasn’t hindered by the writing. But I definitely enjoyed this run and will miss him, which is honestly more than I can say for Matt Smith. Not that I don’t think Smith did a good job. I like Smith well enough, but not enough to miss him as the Doctor when he left.

The episode Hell Bent was really, really good.

And overall, I just enjoyed it.

I know I listed a lot of problems up there, and not a lot of good stuff down here...but I was having fun watching Doctor Who again! I was just taken out of it sometimes by the Moffat garbage fire.

But I cried when Bill died. I cried when the Doctor died. I cried when he said, “What about me? Don’t I get to rest?” I cried when he regenerated, though his speech to himself was stupid.

I liked Bill better than Clara, but Clara still had a lot of good moments!

I am /happy/ that I got back into Doctor Who. And I can’t wait to see what comes next.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Whouffaldi- 12’s chaos and shenanigans with Clara’s students. Clara discovering his “lecturer skills” and the fact that he’s amazing with kids ( a quality she finds very attractive )

Of course she finds this extremely attractive—it had her making eyes at him in episodes such as Into the Forest of the Night and Listen (it was less apparent in Eleven’s run, due to seeing what was more his “fun uncle” or “weird granddad” side then), as well as part of what I’m certain drew her towards Danny. Clara’s got a thing for them Dad Skills.

3474 words; takes place in some vaguey-vague s9 setting because I don’t feel like resurrecting Danny just for them to butt heads over this (I’ll do it one day, just not regarding this prompt); has a small sliver of what I imagine Twelve’s lectures at St. Luke’s was like: sort of multidisciplinary and rambling and always a wee bit interpretive, all in the same session; wasn’t originally going to turn into porn, but ended up turning into porn, in your honor I suppose, since we likely all have a need for it in these trying times; I’m just so tired right now you guys and I’m very glad to have prompts like this to help me get through the workday so thank you

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Things would really be leagues calmer at her job if she didn’t have to worry about the Doctor butting in all the time, Clara surmised. She cringed as she heard a muffled crashing sound coming from the corridor, completely disrupting her otherwise peaceful prep period.

“I’m going to strangle him so hard he regenerates.”

Clara stood and walked out of her empty classroom and a few steps down the corridor to where she could look out onto the courtyard. There, just as she expected, was the Doctor, with a smoldering heap of metal in front of him and several Year Eight and Nines huddled behind him. He lifted his sonic specs and set them atop his head, the corners of his eyes now adding to the immeasurable grin upon his face.

“What are you doing now…?” she asked dully, making certain it was loud enough for them to hear.

“Robotics,” he claimed. “Mister Atif has an excellent grasp of the topic for his particular place in space-time, however, I thought I’d give the kids a little booster demonstration.”

“Alfie? What did he destroy this time?” Clara asked. One of the smaller children popped his head out, still clearly terrified.

“I don’t know, Miss,” the boy said. “It came from his box.”

“Just… stay out of Doctor Smith’s box, okay?” she warned gently. “None of you go in there unless you’re willing to end up like that… whatever that was.” She gestured towards the wreckage that was now being poked at by the Doctor as he properly donned his sonic sunglasses again; the last thing she needed was one of the kids getting into more than they bargained for before they were able to wholly make the decision for themselves.

Something told her though, as she made her way back to her classroom, that she wasn’t going to have much of a problem with that. It would be Mister Coburn, the one who begged her to bring back the Doctor to substitute once again, who would be the one who needed to reassess his choices. Too many more metal corpses of this machine and that, and, well… she wasn’t going to fuss over it. None of it was supposed to be her problem, after all.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It had been a whole week since Mister Atif had to stay home with an extremely nasty bout of the flu.

Granted, commuting by TARDIS was rather convenient, and the Doctor had a whole new set of things to fuss over while she was busy with work, but there was also the problem of worrying over the Time Lord being in charge of Mister Atif’s singular class. Being a retired engineer who took the caretaker position out of sheer boredom, the man had more than enthusiastic when it came to instructing an introductory robotics class when the need arose. It kept something in the school records and administration satisfied and allowed him to share what he loved with a whole new generation of potential engineering fiends. Everyone was generally pleased with the setup, with Mister Atif even enrolling the students in a local competition, for which Missus Atif even made special scarves to commemorate the occasion.

All bets were off now, however.

As they were (luckily) post-competition, the children were restless, which meant that the Doctor’s substitution was almost perfectly-timed. He was originally less-than-thrilled at the prospect of taking on a class—“I don’t have time for puddings that are still setting, Clara”—yet once he was actually presented with the children whom he was in charge of for a few hours each week, his tune seemed to miraculously change.

“I’ve met worse,” he claimed over a curry one evening. He’d fetched it from Hyderabad, since their favorite place in Hoxton was closed for renovations. “Ansar somehow was able to collect the least irritating of those levels and turn them into future scientists.”

“How are you on given-name-terms with Mister Atif when you’ve never supposedly met him?” she frowned.

“I’m allowed to have some secrets, aren’t I?” he wondered. “Just harmless, little ones.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she replied. She gently nudged his shin with her foot, throwing him a flirty glance over her naan that she knew made him weak in the knees. He leaned closer to her and arched an eyebrow in a silent dare.

All he got was a face full of naan and korma instead.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The following day after school, Clara was sitting in the caretaker’s office, waiting to go home. She stopped scrolling through the news feed on her mobile to check the time—the Doctor was extremely late—and rolled her eyes. Considering he should have been done with tidying up well over an hour ago, she slid herself off the table and decided to find him herself, whatever was keeping him be damned.

So she looked… and looked… and looked… nothing. He wasn’t in the courtyard or the assembly hall or the cafeteria or wandering about the science labs (ha; the day he found him poking around there had been a disaster). She was beginning to genuinely worry as she wandered the corridors, her heart skipping a beat as she finally figured out where he was.

“Why weren’t the Romans able to escape? Didn’t they know what was gonna happen?”

Clara recognized the voice as one of the children in the Doctor’s robotics class. She poked her head in a classroom and found the entire group sitting at desks, their attention rapt upon the man at the front of the room. He was drawing on the moveable whiteboard (all the others attached to the wall were already filled), his back to everyone, and did not notice Clara coming in. She stood along the cinderblock and held her finger up to her lips as the students saw her come in—no tattling.

“The main reason is that no one really listened to me,” the Doctor explained. “The other, lesser, reason is that none of the warning devices that you take for granted these days were available at the time, making it so that when there was a slight rumbling, they considered it as the gods being pleased or some other such nonsense like the idiots they were.”

“That’s rather mean,” another student said.

“Sometimes the truth is mean, and the only defense we have against it is something that is just as bad or worse, just in a different way, because there might be no good answers,” the Doctor explained. He turned around, showing that he had just finished roughly mapping out a diagram, and his eyes brightened as he saw the new person in the room. “Clara! How good of you to finally join us!”

“Doctor, what are you doing?” she asked.

“Giving a bit of an additional lesson on robotics—extracurricular and wholly voluntary, of course.”

“That looks like a volcano you just drew.”

He glanced back at the board, then at her, and shrugged. “Tangent.”

“Are you nearly done with this tangent? The kids are not the only ones who need to go home.”

“Ah, yes, fair enough. Please, take a seat as we finish up for the day, Miss Oswald.” She did so, giving him a smirk as she took a seat in the very back of the room. “Now? Where were we?”

“You were saying that the people in Pompeii deserved to die,” the student piped up.

“No, wrong: I said they were idiots,” the Doctor responded, in a tone that was both firm and gentle. He used the whiteboard marker to point and gesture around the room to emphasize his point. “We all die at one point or another, and manner of death isn’t necessarily a good indicator of deservedness.”

“…but they were still idiots.”

“Well, yes. Everyone in this room is an idiot in one way or another. In fact, I myself am a very, very big idiot, and I’ve found that the best remedy for the situation is to understand it.”

“So you’re saying Miss Oswald is an idiot too?”

“No—she is likely the exception to this rule,” he replied, giving the actual educator a quick smile. “Take myself, for example: I am an idiot with a box and a screwdriver, going wherever I please and helping fix things along the way. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I get it wrong, but the key is that I am always trying my best and acutely aware of it. Many people who are rather brilliant overall can be considered idiots… just like many that were there that day at the base of Mount Vesuvius.” A different wee hand went up. “Yes?”

“Would that make ‘idiot’ more like an approximate translation instead of a direct one? Almost metaphorical?”

“That’s a bit closer; make of it what you will.”

“Then are we just using the word wrong?”

The Doctor pondered the answer for a moment, gnawing on the middle knuckle of his left pointer finger. His right hand still held his marker as he used his wrist to support his left elbow. His puzzlement was met with silence from the students, who allowed him his time to think. Clara was rather impressed by the development, as it had taken her a couple years to achieve such levity—while teaching just as serious a subject no less. She studied the Doctor as he wracked his brain, taking in his off-center stance… the crease to his brow… the way his hair moved ever so slightly now that it was getting longer… how the cut of the “substitute caretaker disguise” coat suited him…

She had to stop herself from smacking her own forehead; there are better times to drink him all in, Oswald.

“That I cannot answer,” he finally replied. “It’s a difficult word with many connotations—I do believe that part is up to you.” He then looked at the invisible watch on his wrist—bloody ticking and all—and raised his eyebrows. “Yes, goodness, look at the time. There is a pressure cooker at Miss Oswald’s that needs attention, as well as your homework. Pick a side, if you’re for or against modern art being important, and then write two pages attempting to outline the opposite viewpoint. Remember it’s ‘art that is new’ and not Modern Art as a movement. It’ll be a good exercise and I’ll know if you’re cheating. Due in a week. Ta.”

With a little wave, the Doctor sent the children off without so much as another word. Once the room was only occupied by the two adults, they looked one another in the eyes again, sparks flickering between them despite the distance.

“You handle them well,” Clara noted. “Are you sure you don’t want to come onto payroll and do this full-time? I think I heard one of the governors speak highly of your ability.”

“Chesterwaithe only says such things because he knows what’s good for him,” the Doctor replied. He watched as she stood and approached him, shuddering in anticipation as she did so. After just barely missing him, she walked right past, allowing him to make a full-bodied turn as he followed her to the door and out into the corridor. “It’s a good thing the Human sense of smell is pathetic.”

“Now why’s that?”

“We’ll have to put the stew on low,” he said, his tone almost that of a non-sequitur. He leaned down as they turned to go down a staircase, using the railing as leverage as he lowered his voice into a deep burr, “it’s rolling off you. I’m drowning in it.”

Clara knew exactly what he meant: pheromones.

“Then let’s get you back to the flat so that you can breathe,” she replied. They both knew fully-well that her flat wasn’t what either of them called home, yet it was still where they both lived while the Doctor was playing at caretaker. It was where she was normally, when it was not designated Doctor Days, though the Time Lord and Human both had decided that they would both stay at the flat for the duration of the experiment, out of respect to the TARDIS if anything. Though neither would admit it, it was nearly fun pretending that the flat was where they both belonged, if only because they intrinsically knew better.

Down the stairs, through the corridors, lock up the building, and final rounds were done; the Doctor and Clara made it back to the caretaker’s office with their fingers laced together as they held hands, the contact forbidden while they were in-sight of impressionable young minds and gossipy coworkers. They went into the TARDIS and disjoined long enough for the Doctor to walk over to the console, make the brief jump to the flat, and return to her side.

All he could smell and taste in the air was her and it was driving him appropriately mad.

Two steps over the TARDIS’s threshold, out of their shoes, and the Doctor pulled Clara close, leaning down to kiss her deeply. She eventually broke the contact, inhaling sharply as her voice took on a slight waver.

“Shit. The stew.”

“It won’t be ready for another five hours,” he promised. Ah—a space-and-time jump. “Just making use of Missus King’s rock concert days catching up to her and the fact neither of the Chowdhrys work from home anymore.”

“…and here I thought the way you had the students’ attention was sexy,” she laughed. The TARDIS whirred in irritation and the couple used it as an excuse to move their operations elsewhere. Bending slightly at the knees, the Doctor allowed Clara to latch onto his upper half so that they could kiss properly while he carried her to the bedroom, hands cupping her rear in order to hold her steady. He could feel the sharpness of her nails scraping up against his scalp and the nape of his neck and the warmth of her breath as she moved to his chin and down his throat.

“I think I figured out your type,” he teased. She nibbled gently at a bit of skin, daring him to elaborate. “Being just as good with children as you are.”

“Need I mention the various times you allowed yourself to get pranked by the Maitlands and nearly got them killed in the same stretch?”

“Let’s just say I’ve been practicing since then.” He sat down on the edge of her bed and was almost instantly thrown onto his back, his body bouncing on the mattress at the force used to put him there. “Then again, I have an excellent example to learn from.”

“If that’s the case, then why do you still act the way you do around adults?” she wondered. She undid her bunched-up skirt zip and allowed his hands to untuck her blouse and reach under the hem to unlatch her bra. Soon there would be no mental capacity between the two of them to bicker and she needed to get him to admit it before they lost their train of thought.

Yeah—bickering he could do, but don’t call it bantering or there would be no adult version of extracurriculars for at least a week.

“I don’t hear an answer,” she pressed. His hands had now moved to one clawing at the top buttons of her blouse while the other teased a breast, making the nipple nearly sting at the friction. She was relieving him of his trousers, the motion going temporarily on-hold as he finally relieved her of her upper garments, shucking them off and tossing them blithely to the floor.

“They’re not you,” he growled. He let go as they parted to get rid of his trousers and coat and jumper, as well as her leggings and both their pants, only to grab her again once they were fully naked. “Why should I care if they’re never going to understand anyhow?”

“…because flashcards are not the way normal people talk to one another. You can be honest and frank with the robotics students and me, but no one else?”

“No.” He parted her legs with his knee as they resumed where they left off on the mattress; she was scorching-hot and already alarmingly wet. “Maybe I just need a bit more practice.”

“Maybe I should see if I can talk to one of my friends in admissions over in Liverpool and get you a lecturer’s position for a term—see how you do with semi-adults.”

“I might have to take you up on that, just to prove you wrong.”

“I look forward to it.” She bit his shoulder to where she knew she’d leave a mark, safely keeping it tucked away underneath where fabric would be the following day as he tinkered around the school. That’s truly all he did—tinker—and it was such a thing from an odd children’s television show she could cry in laughter.

She was shagging Coal Hill’s (substitute) hyper-competent caretaker, who was ready to mentor students and impart life advice to any willing to stop their youthful mishaps long enough to listen.

Not only that, but she was halfway gone just watching him in action for a short while.

Clara had to admit: the Doctor had her type down to a very specific point.

Oh no.

She did, however, declined to give him that satisfaction by going and clearing the thought from her mind as she took his throbbing erection and stroked it. Yes, there was that moan she loved to hear. A few decent pulls and she decided he had been tortured enough and guided him into her, everything slipping wonderfully into place as he filled her and she surrounded him.

Gazing down at him in the pale afternoon light filtering in through her curtains, Clara knew she was meeting the eyes of the version of the Doctor she loved the most. It wasn’t looks (which didn’t hurt) or accent (again, that neither) or even the fact he now had mood lighting in the TARDIS (she wasn’t entirely certain it was all his doing), but the sort of man he had grown to become with her. All the barriers his previous face had were long-gone, shed for the sole purpose of baring himself to her. Every last bit of him. He did it because he knew she could see what he was without all the trappings and whimsy, that she was ready to get to something more meaningful between them, because despite anything they felt for one another before he gained his pre-frowned face, it was now all that and more. There were no remaining barriers betwixt the Time Lord and his saving grace and they were willing to act accordingly.

He bucked his hips up into hers, making her eyes roll into the back of her head as he began to set their pace; all that and so, so much more.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“You know they’re just better off reading nature logs at this point—John Muir has an excellent one about encountering what people now call Bigfoot but what was really a stranded extraterrestrial in Ahwahnee.”

Clara stopped writing on the whiteboard and closed her eyes—a headache was coming on. A few students made poor attempts at hiding their laughter, which their teacher could not blame them for. She turned around and looked up to see the Doctor poking his head in the window.

“Have you forgotten what doors are for?” she wondered sarcastically. The remaining students couldn’t help but snicker.

“Doors are not me; windows are me,” he claimed frankly. “That’s not the point; why are you going over something as boring as Wordsworth?”

“It’s not boring, and it’s required in the curriculum set up by your I-don’t-even-want-to-know-how-he’s-your-friend Chesterton. I teach Wordsworth, whether it’s boring or not, and I’m allowed to compare The Scottish Chiefs to Ivanhoe, with enough leeway to maybe brush against Chandrakanta if we have enough time before I have to go into the section on Dumas to correlate with their history class.” She watched as his face grew almost sheepish. “Now, did you need anything?”

“Yes! Kaja! Do you have that component you were talking about?”

“Right here, Doctor Smith,” a girl said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out what looked like a small circuit board—simple enough to have been cannibalized from a television remote older than her.

“Good—now I need to see if Raj got his piece and we’ll be set for class later todaaaaaayyyy!” The Doctor attempted to make a smooth exit down the ladder, only serving to knock it off-balance and fall from just below the window all the way to the ground. There was a muffled “I’m fine!” and Clara shook her head, completely exasperated.

Just because the scenery was better did not mean that she couldn’t wait until Mister Atif returned to his duties.

[the-beastslayers-queen]

Magic and Moonlight: Chapter 15

At last chapter 15 is here. Warnings: mentions of childbirth and lots of swearing. Tagging: @queenofthearchitect @wwepoppunkprincess @balorrollinsambrose @bethany99stuff-blog @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @sassyspacedust and @afauss2009 if you want to be tagged, hit my inbox. Enjoy!

Colby

I was in a total panic. Not only was it way too damn early for Tyler to come, but I had no idea where the nearest hospital was to get Thea there as quickly as possible. I had to call in the cavalry on this. I needed my brothers to give me a hand. And the first one I called was Roman.

“Come on pick up,” I was pacing and pulling at my hair as I waited for him to answer the damn phone.

“Colby,” I heard the Big Dog groan, “Why the fuck are you calling me this late at night?”

“Thea’s in a ton of pain and I think she’s about to have Tyler,” I rambled quickly, “Can you get Dean and get your car ready to take us to the nearest hospital? I am completely lost here and I have no idea what to do?”

“Fucking Christ, Lopez I’m going to kill you if you don’t hurry the fuck up,” Thea screamed in pain as she leaned over the bed, riding through a contraction.

“I just heard Thea,” Roman was laughing and I could hear shuffling in the background on his side of the phone, “I’ll have Dean get the car pulled around. I’ll be down at your room in two minutes. Get a bag of some clothes and phone chargers and anything else you’ll need for the hospital. Now move.”

I hung up on Roman and grabbed my gym bag and emptied it out. I grabbed my phone charger and Thea’s before went into my suitcase to grab spare clothes for me. I then went into Thea’s things and I found her some clothes for later too. Once everything was packed, I went back to Thea’s side and helped her walk to the door. Roman knocked as soon as we had made it to the door.

“Thank god you’re here, man,” I gave him a huge sigh of relief.

“Not a problem, Uce,” he smiled before he turned to Thea, looking very concerned for her, “Thea, how far apart are your contractions?”

“About 25 minutes apart,” she panted, exhausted from all the pain she must be in, “I haven’t kept count.”

“I’ll carry her downstairs,” Roman scooped up Thea in his arms, “You handle the bags, and get your room locked up. Then I’ll drive us to the hospital.”

“I owe you one,” I told him.

“You’ll pay me back once we’re able to get the band back together, alright,” Roman began to walk towards the elevators, being careful with Thea as he went.

Alright thank god I had Roman drive us to the hospital. I was a fucking hot mess trying to calm Thea down so she doesn’t have her magic kill us on the car ride to the damn hospital. I mean she crushed my hand the whole ride and might have broken a couple of my fingers, but I’ll live.

Seeing as we were still in Santa Clara, I was able to get in touch with my mom and step-dad so they could meet us at the hospital. I wanted my mom here to meet her grandson, I knew it would mean the world to her.

I also gave Thea’s mom a call to let her know what was going on. Since she stayed behind in New Orleans, she told me she was going to get on the next flight out of there to come here to be with us for this.

Right now, I was in Thea’s room at the hospital. We were waiting for a doctor to come in and see what the hell is going on. My son shouldn’t be coming until next month, but here we are. And poor Thea is in massive pain. Oh how I wish I could take it all away for her.

“Where is the damn doctor,” I grumbled as I sat in the chair next to Thea’s bed, my right leg bouncing like crazy, “Your water broke on the way outside to the car from the hotel, so this is really happening. I am so scared for Tyler right now. Hell I’m scared shitless for you. I just got my feelings back and this fucking happens, Jesus Christ man.”

“Colby Daniel Lopez, you’re panicking isn’t helping at all,” Thea groaned as she rode out another contraction, “So for the love of all things good in this world, stop talking for five minutes.”

“Sorry for the wait, I had to get your file from you doctor in New Orleans, Miss Bartlett,” the doctor apologized as he entered, “So you said when you checked in your water had broken and you’ve been having contractions. Seeing as there is no way to prevent the little guy from coming early, I will look into getting you an epidural to ease the pain and discomfort. I’ll also get a check on how far along you are to see when we’ll have you push.”

After nearly seven hours, Thea was now at seven centimeters. The doctor said she needed to be at ten if she was going to push Tyler out. I had decided to let Thea rest and had my mom stay with her while I went down to the gift shop in the hospital to look at getting some clothes for Tyler to wear for when we were able to get him home.

Which I needed to talk to Thea about as soon as Tyler gets here. I want her and Tyler to come live with me in Davenport. I could have my mom watch Tyler once Thea returns to the ring again. I could even help Thea’s mom move up here if she wanted to, so she could help protect Tyler from Morrigan and the Authority.

But for right now, I just finished my shopping for my son and went back up to Thea’s room. When I arrived, I saw Thea’s mom had arrived and was getting right to work on getting Thea more comfortable. I gave a huge sigh of relief that her mom was able to get here before Tyler did. That was one less stress to worry about.

“Oh good you made it,” I sighed with relief as went to plop onto the couch under Thea’s window, “I thought you wouldn’t be here until after Tyler was born.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Colby,” she replied, “You look exhausted. Get some sleep. We’ll watch over Thea for you.”

It’s been twelve hours since Thea got admitted into the hospital. She had to be close by now. I was absolutely fried by this point. I was so exhausted, I was on my third cup of coffee at this point. I just could not sleep for the life of me, being too worried about Thea or missing my son’s arrival into the world if I fell asleep.

“My poor boy,” my mom was sitting with me on the couch, her arm wrapped around my back, rubbing it gently, “You look so worn out. You should have tried to get some sleep.”

“I know, Ma,” I groaned before taking a generous sip of my coffee, “But you know how I get when I sleep. I’ll be dead to the world in two seconds flat and I’d miss meeting my son.”

“Alright, Thea,” the doctor came in and I immediately got up to stand by Thea’s side, “I’m going to check to see if we’re ready for you to get little Tyler out.”

The doctor examined Thea and I grabbed her hand and laced my fingers with hers. If I looked exhausted, Thea looked half dead. She was in so much pain and discomfort and the epidural wasn’t helping her much at all. All I knew was once Tyler was here, I was going to let her get some sleep first.

“Well it looks like you are far enough along for us to go ahead delivery this baby,” the doctor went into the hall to flag down nurses. My mom went with Thea’s mom to go wait in the waiting room with Roman and Dean.

“Alright so Thea, we’re going to get the bed set up here,” Thea’s main nurse said as she came over by me, “And Colby, I’ll need you to come with me. We’ll need to dress and clean you up so you can be present for this, okay.”

I followed the nurse without question and got busy washing up my hands. Once I was done, the nurse got me into a surgical gown and gloves before getting a hair cap on my head and got a surgical cover for my beard. I groaned at getting my beard covered, but I bit my tongue from commenting on why I would need to cover up my trimmed down beard.

Once I returned to the room, I stood beside my girlfriend. She looked so drained and uncomfortable. But I knew we were almost to the finish line here. That soon we’d have Tyler and just pray he was healthy when he got here.

Thea

After pushing for nearly an hour, I was ready to just give up. I couldn’t handle all this pain and discomfort that Tyler was putting my body through. How my mother managed to make it through giving birth to not just me, but to my older brothers is beyond me. Hell, I felt bad for Colby’s mom pushing out two boys that turned into giants. If I knew any better, Tyler was going to be tall like his father, I mean I did dreamwalk with him two months ago.

“I-I can’t do this anymore,” I groaned, my voice weak from the screaming as I pushed, “I just can’t.”

“Thea you have to keep going,” Colby gave my hand a squeeze, “Tyler is counting on you, baby. You need to push so he can make it, okay.”

“One more push should do it,” the doctor said with confidence, “He’s already crowning.”

I waited for the signal and began to push the instant I was told to. I crushed Colby’s hand in mine as I put all of my strength into this last push. I wasn’t going to let up until I knew Tyler was here. Sure enough, after I pushed and let up, I felt a pop and then I heard the wail of a baby; my baby.

“He’s here,” the doctor announced as he handed my son to a nurse to wipe him down before placing him on my chest. I was in absolute tears as I cradled the tiny little boy to my chest as he cried.

“He’s beautiful,” I sobbed with pure joy and love as I held him. He was so perfect, his little face was all scrunched up as he cried in my arms. He had a full head of hair, just like his father. I was in bliss.

“He is absolutely perfect,” Colby kissed my forehead as he brushed my hair off of my sweaty forehead, “He’s everything we were hoping for and more.”

“We’ll take him to get cleaned up and get his measurements for his birth certificate,” my nurse said as she came to collect Tyler, “We’ll bring him right back to you to see if he is ready to try nursing.”

“I’m so proud of you, babe,” Colby gushed as he got a wash cloth wet at the sink near my bed to wipe the sweat from my forehead, “You brought a life into this world, and you didn’t give up. You also didn’t expose your magic. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Colby,” I smiled weakly, “I can’t wait to finally sleep once he’s fed and swaddled up.”

After Colby and I finally got some sleep, we allowed Roman and Dean along with our moms to come into the room to meet Tyler. I was so surprised at how quickly Dean got attached to my son. He wanted nothing more than to spoil the piss out of him and had accepted him into the pack. When Roman held him, he made my son look so tiny, but he too accepted Tyler into the pack right away and wanted to be the shield to protect him from any and every threat possible.

But seeing Colby hold his son; that had me in tears. When I first found out I was pregnant, Colby wanted nothing to do with me. But now, he was madly in love with me again, and was over the moon over his son. He was ready to fight a war if it meant no harm would come to his son. He wanted to be ever present in his life, unlike his own father. I knew Colby was going to be a great father.

But now that Tyler was here, now we had to talk about our future.

“Colby,” I looked over at my boyfriend as he was putting Tyler into his crib to sleep, “I want us to be together. If that means moving to live with you in Davenport, then so be it. I just ask that we bring my mom so she can place magical safeguards around our home to keep Tyler safe when I go back to the WWE.”

“You have a deal,” he replied before coming over to kiss me tenderly, “I’ll look for a house close to mine for your mom so she can live close to us. Maybe she can help my mom with my wrestling school while also caring for Tyler.”

“Sounds perfect,” I replied with a contented sigh.

[shimmershaewrites]

Merry and Bright *4* (a Walking Dead ficlet, Caryl AU).

Title:  Merry and Bright *4*

Rating:  K. 

Warnings:  more Christmas fluff.  It’s truly nauseating at this point, lol.  

Characters/Pairings:  Carol Peletier/Daryl Dixon, Sophia Peletier, mentions of Merle Dixon, Andrea Harrison, Amy Harrison, Rick Grimes, Lori Grimes, Carl Grimes, Judith Grimes, Dale Horvath, Irma Horvath. 

                                               Merry and Bright *4*

  She invites Daryl to spend the holidays with her and Sophia. 

 His brother’s off testing the hospitality of another Georgia state pen and Andrea’s soaking up the sun on some beach somewhere with her baby sister.  Rick and Lori have their hands full with Carl and their brand-new baby girl and well. 

 Daryl’s alone.  Just like her and Soph.  So Carol invites him.  Just blurts out the invitation to ride up to her boss’s mountain getaway for a few days like she’s asking him if he wants coffee to go with his dessert and wouldn’t you know it? 

 Wonder of all wonders, Daryl says yes. 

   The cabin is small.  Hardly a five-star establishment but Carol falls in love with it on sight.  Sophia does, too. 

 Daryl doesn’t say much. 

 Not that he ever does.  It’d taken months of shyly shared bits and pieces of conversation at the diner for him to even gift her with his name and even longer for him to grow comfortable enough to accept her gentle teasing for what it was:  an offer of friendship extended from one lonely person to another. 

 He doesn’t say much.  Anything really.  But he smiles. 

 That boyish little quirk of one corner of his mouth that sets her heart to stumbling with decidedly unfriendly thoughts.  Makes her cheeks grow pink and warm even in the unfamiliar chill of the air, and she laughs to play it off.  Distracts him with some lame joke about being hungry enough to eat a horse. 

 “Me, too,” Sophia comes out of her shell long enough to agree. 

 Daryl glances down at his boots and he grows serious again.  Shrugs his shoulders and looks up at them both, gnaws absently at his thumbnail.  “Passed some horses a few miles back.” 

 Her mouth falls open and her daughter giggles.   

 Daryl, for his part, looks at them with sheepish satisfaction.  His blue eyes dancing and bright.  “You said…” 

  It’s a little easier after that.  Easier than she expected anyway and the rest of the day passes quickly as they settle in.  Each claiming their cozy little corners and establishing a sort of rhythm. 

 The small fridge is pretty bare, but the cupboards are well stocked with non-perishables and other basic necessities and soon Sophia and Daryl are slurping soup from spoons and sneaking shy peeks at one another across a narrow, hand-carved kitchen table while Carol watches with utmost amusement.  “Good?” she asks. 

 The answer comes in quiet unison.  “Good.” 

 “Good,” she says. 

  Cocooned beneath a mound of blankets later that night, Sophia hugs her doll to her chest and accepts the kiss Carol presses to her forehead.  Yawns as she wriggles further down in the little bed and captures her hand before she can leave.  “I like him, Mama.” 

 The twinkle lights twined overhead illuminate her soft, sleepy smile, the freckles across her cheeks and nose, the truth in her eyes, and Carol finds herself voicing her own admission.  “I do, too, Sweetie.  I do, too.”  

   They venture back down the mountainside the next morning.  Back into the quaint little town they passed along the way where they wander into a tiny general store too authentic to qualify as a tourist trap. 

 That’s not to say Sophia doesn’t find plenty to interest her as children are wont to do; Carol’s not immune to the store’s charming wares either and finds herself drawn to a display of handmade jewelry.  Necklaces and earrings.  Bracelets and Pendants.  All bearing a similar design.  She looks up, startled, when the storeowner approaches.  Smiles knowingly at her. 

 “Local girl made ‘em.  Pretty ain’t they?” 

 Fingers lightly tracing over the delicate design, she murmurs, “They’re beautiful.”

 “They’re Cherokee roses.  Ever hear the legend?” 

 Shaking her head, she tells him, “Can’t say that I have.” 

 “Well, legend has it…” 

 Spying Sophia trying to gain her attention halfway across the store, Daryl hovering patiently, protectively nearby, she apologizes.  “I’m sorry.  My daughter needs me.” 

 “Then you must go to her.  Your husband looks a little out of his element.” 

 “Daryl?  He’s not my…I’m not…we’re not…married,” she finishes, long after the matronly woman has left her side to help another customer. 

 “Mama!” Sophia waves her over.  “Come look.” 

   They do some more shopping.  Do a little sightseeing.  Eat a late lunch before returning to the cabin.   

 Sophia clomps up the steps in a new pair of snow boots Carol doubts she’ll get much use of back home, but she’d seen the look of unspoken longing in her daughter’s eyes and she’d been unable to deny her such a simple happiness, especially knowing Ed would have never allowed what he deemed a frivolous purchase. 

 “Do you think the man at the restaurant was right, Mama?  You really think it’s going to snow?” 

 “Think it might,” Daryl answers for her.  Quiet and sure, he gazes up at the gray sky and nods.  “Think it just might.  Not sure how much, though.” 

 Her girl looks at him like he’d just handed her the moon and all its surrounding stars and Carol can’t help but smile after her as she disappears inside, her head all but in the clouds. “Adding weather forecaster to your talents now?” she teases him, companionably bumps his shoulder. 

                                                             He blushes, bumps her shoulder back with his own.  “Ain’t got no talents.” 

 “Oh, I beg to differ, Mr. Dixon.  Making her smile like that?  It’s definitely a talent.” 

 “Stop.” 

   They wake to find a winter wonderland the next morning, the snow still swirling down in thick white sheets that continue to fall throughout the day and into the night. 

 With the fire crackling in the fireplace and her chilled hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate as she watches Sophia giggle at Ralphie’s plight on the television, she feels warm with contentment.  With something closer to happiness since, well, ever. 

 The pink bunny suit of shame pulls a throaty chuckle from deep within Daryl’s chest and unconsciously, he shifts closer to her on the leather sofa.  The back of his hand brushing her socked foot before he stills. 

 Quiet as a waiting mouse before she nudges him with her toes, gently distracts him with the movie as she scoots closer until the little points of contact between them spark even more warmth within her.  “I’m sure Aunt Clara meant well.” 

 “Pfft.  Right.” 

   “You have your coat?” 

 Sophia nods.   

 “Your mittens, too?” 

 She sighs.  “Yes, Mama.” 

 “You’ll stay with Daryl the whole time?” 

 “Ain’t gonna let her get eat by a bear.  If that’s what’s worryin’ you,” Daryl gruffly attempts to appease her from where he waits patiently by the door.

 “Tomorrow’s Christmas,” Sophia reminds her.  “We need a tree.” 

 Tucking her baby girl’s hair beneath her hood with exasperated fondness, Carol tries to dial back some of her worry.  “You don’t even believe in Santa anymore.” 

 “Maybe not.  But I still believe in magic,” she tells her with a little crinkle of her nose and a nod in Daryl’s direction that somehow goes undetected by the man himself. 

 Least Carol thinks it does, but she’s a little off-kilter and she can’t be really sure.  What with her twelve-year-old playing matchmaker for her.  “Sophia.”

 “Ain’t gonna let her out of my sight,” Daryl promises.  “You gotta trust that.” 

 “I do.  Daryl, I…I trust you.  I do.” 

 “We’re coming back, Mama.  With the prettiest Christmas tree you’ve ever seen.” 

 “Yeah, well.  Better make sure it’s on Dale’s property.” 

 “Mama.”

 “Listen to your girl.” 

 “Alright.” 

   It’s no Charlie Brown tree, but it’s no beauty pageant winner either.  Still. 

 It has character and Carol’s always thought beauty was in the eye of the beholder anyway.  She smiles as she traces a fingertip over one of the shiny glass ornaments they’d found tucked away in a little storage closet, just one of many monuments of a lifetime love story, and she steps back.  Surveys the fruits of their hard work. 

 “Looks good,” Daryl rumbles. 

 “It does.” 

 “Looks real pretty.” 

 She laughs softly, gazes up at him wonderingly.  Because he’s always been sweet, unerringly so even if he’s never realized it.  But he’s never been one to offer compliments and it’s just a Christmas tree, but she knows him.  Maybe not as long as she’s known Andrea or Rick.  Maybe not even as long as she’s known Dale.  But she knows him.  Has known him since that very first cup of coffee she poured.  In many ways, he’s a reflection of herself.  Just battling every day to find himself in a world that hasn’t always treated him kindly.  She knows him.  He’s working through something.  Screwing up the courage to say what he really wants to say.  “Daryl?” she prompts gently.  Quietly because Sophia’s sleeping just down the hall and something tells her this?  This belongs just to them.   

 He holds out his hand, palm up, and something silver glitters beneath the rainbow reflection of the tree’s lights. 

 “Daryl?” she breathes when he hooks his crooked pinky finger in the chain and the delicate rendering of a Cherokee rose shimmers before her eyes.  “What…” 

 “Saw you lookin’ at it.”  His broad shoulders shrug and his blue eyes shy away from her face.  “Know you liked it, and I thought…thought you should have it.” 

 “I…Daryl.  I don’t know what to…” 

 “If you don’t want it, if you thinkin’ maybe it ain’t appropriate…” 

 Mercifully, she cuts off his rambling.  “I want it.  I want…”  You her heart silently screams.  “Thank you.  It’s beautiful.  I…put it on?”  She shows him her back, holds her hand to her pounding heart, and wills the tears she feels threatening away as she feels him fumble clumsily with the clasp at the nape of her neck.  When the necklace finally settles in the well of her throat, she leans back against his solid form.  Feels the pounding of his own heart and lets it calm her own.  “Thank you,” she murmurs. 

  He doesn’t kiss her and she makes no move to kiss him.  Not yet.  That’s not the way they operate, and she’s okay with that.  Really.  She is.  Besides.  She wants to stand on that precipice a little longer, enjoy the view and glory in the slow fall.

 After all, Sophia isn’t the only one that still believes in magic.  Not at all.   

[moonlightmolly]

Fandom Tag Meme

Thank you to @gallihafry for tagging me! Sorry it took me so long to do this!

1. Your current OTP(s)/OT3(s)/OTX(s):

I've never been super into shipping (I've actually distanced myself from a few fandoms because some of the shippers were so rude to people). I've found that most of my favorite relationships on Doctor Who have been mainly platonic ones, like the friendships between Eleven and Amy, Ten and Donna, and Twelve and Bill. The exception to this is Doctor x Clara. I liked her with Eleven, but she and Twelve are just brilliant together. And even this pairing is a little different than most because Clara and Twelve never kiss or do anything overtly romantic (at least not onscreen). And I think that's what appeals to me about it. It's clear that they love each other more than life itself, but their relationship defies categories and stereotypes.

2. A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind (bonus points: who was that person).

I can't think of any.

3. A pairing you used to love, but it all fell apart for you.

I wouldn’t say it all fell apart for me because I still like River x Doctor (The Husbands of River Song is my favorite Christmas Special), but the whole "You're destined to fall in love with me" aspect bothers me because I'm a big believer in free will. However, I do really love the idea of River loving the Doctor throughout his different incarnations, in spite of the huge changes in personality and appearance. Apparently, there’s a Big Finish story where River goes on an adventure with Six and Seven, which sounds pretty entertaining. And I have absolutely nothing against Alex Kingston herself. I got to see her at a panel in my hometown a year ago (my first ever Doctor Who panel!), and she’s so funny and charismatic. I think even my Dad enjoyed listening to her, even though he’s not a Doctor Who fan. And her hair is even more amazing in person.

4. Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom, if so, what?

Not yet, unfortunately. However, I'm planning on getting Photoshop soon, so maybe I will someday. 🙂

5. What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?

I've loved Star Wars since childhood. I think I was around seven when I watched A New Hope for the first time. It’s still my favorite Star Wars movie.

6. Do you remember your first OTP, if so who was in it?

I think it was either Raven x Beast Boy (Teen Titans) or Aang x Katara (Avatar: The Last Airbender).

7. Name a fandom you didn’t care/think about until you saw it all over Tumblr.

It was a gifset of Vincent and the Doctor that sparked my interest in Doctor Who. Also, I printed out a Twelfth Doctor quote and put it on the bulletin board over my desk before I ever started watching the show. It was his "scared is a superpower" quote from Listen, which is now one of my favorite episodes.

8. Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves (chars you’re neutral on are fair game, as are chars you dislike).

While I don't hate any of the Doctor's companions, Rose Tyler is my least favorite. Her possessiveness of the Doctor bugged me. However, I liked her friendship with Nine and I know she played a critical role in healing him after the Time War.

9. Name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

I have to agree with @gallihafry here: 1) Less hatred of the showrunners. Constructive criticism is good, personal attacks are not. 2) More respect towards those with differing viewpoints. 3) Kind of ties in with 2, but less "us vs them" attitudes when it comes to ships. We can become so divided over characters and ships that we forget that we all love the same show.

10. Choose a song at random; which ship or character does it remind you of?

"Answer" by Sarah McLachlan makes me think of Twelve and Clara. If I had any video editing skills, I'd make a video for them with that song (and probably cry a lot).

11. A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships.

This would obviously be an AU ship, but I really love the idea of Donna x Nine. It all started with this artwork by Kelly Yates. I bought a t-shirt with this on it, and my favorite little detail is the heart between Donna and Nine. I can totally picture those two together, rocking their leather jackets and sassing their way through time and space. They’d probably get into a big argument at some point, then one of them (probably Donna) would randomly interrupt the whole thing with a kiss. How cute would that be? Okay, now I really want to see some Donna x Nine fanart.

12. Your most scandalous headcanon for your current OTP(s)/OT3(s)/OTX(s).

I only recently became a Whouffaldi shipper, so nothing yet.

13. Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything)?

I believe that Twelve has a Scottish accent because of Amy, and no one will ever convince me otherwise. It kind of makes me hope that Thirteen will have an accent like Clara's. I really like the idea of remembering a companion through a trait like that.

14. 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms.

I’ve already listed some in this post, but I left out some good ones, so I'm glad this question is here!

Ellen Ripley (Alien) Amy Pond (Doctor Who) Aragorn (Lord of the Rings) Sophie Hatter (Howl's Moving Castle) Furiosa (Mad Max: Fury Road)

15. 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms.

Whouffaldi (Doctor Who), Sherlolly (Sherlock), and Ellie x Alec (Broadchurch)

16. 5 favorite ships.

Since I’ve already listed my three main romantic ships, I’m going to use this space to list my favorite platonic ships!

Amy & Eleven

Donna & Ten

Bill & Twelve

Red & Liz (The Blacklist)

Sherlock & Watson (Sherlock, Elementary)

17. Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go (prompts optional but encouraged).

Time for a little soapbox rant. One thing that really irritates me is the attitude that platonic relationships can't be as interesting and complex as romantic ones. The majority of my favorite fictional relationships are platonic, but I wouldn't call any of them boring. What's even more upsetting is when people attack writers for not making their ship canon. It's fine to disagree with the direction of a show or story, but as I said above, personal attacks are never okay. This is something I've run into in multiple fandoms, unfortunately. However, the people I follow, along with my followers and mutuals, are giving me hope that not all fandoms have to be that way. I’m thankful for the community I’ve found here. Y’all are helping my attitude both toward fandoms and (for those of you close to my age) toward my age group in general. I have a history of disliking other millennials. But I’m learning that it’s not fair to generalize just because I’ve had some bad experiences in the past. Seriously, thank you, everyone, for the follows, likes, reblogs, tags, comments, etc. Whether you know it or not, you’re helping me heal. 😊

Well, that got rather long and personal! Congrats if you read this whole thing.

I’m going to tag: @impossible-stardust, @gallifreyland, @twelveclaraisreal, @lullapiee, and @sea-sands. This is purely for fun, don’t feel pressured to participate.

[theladyjojogrant]

Twelfth Doctor Rewatch: Robot of Sherwood

AKA, a comprehensive lesson on how much the Doctor hates not being the most important person in the room. 

Unlike the last two episodes, this one has a very quick beginning, and I like it! Also, I feel like Twelve asking Clara where she wants to go is his way of saying thank you for what she said about him trying to be a good man at the end of Into the Dalek. 

Starting in the first scene, I love how much of a fangirl Clara is in this episode, and yet she is also very capable and in control. More on that later. 

Clara trying to copy the Doctor’s accent when she says “you.”

This is the first time, I believe, we see the rambly, “I’m trying to get out of something I don’t want to do/distracting someone” side of Twelve after Clara suggests they go see Robin Hood. And yet, Clara knows exactly what he’s doing and gets her way in the end.

I love how, even though he acts like he doesn’t care, I think Twelve secretly likes watching Clara’s reactions to things? Like as the TARDIS engines start up and Clara looks up at the ceiling, the Doctor watches her. I instantly thought of the scene at the end of The Woman Who Lived, and I think it’s definitely an intentional parallel. 

CLARA TAPPING THE DOCTOR’S CHEST IN EXCITEMENT WHEN SHE SEES ROBIN HOOD like honestly this is so adorable. 

Twelve showing off with his spoon. I told you, he has to be the most important person in the room. 

Twelve’s eyebrows after Robin slices off the button on his coat. There are those attack eyebrows. 

The music that plays when we first see the Sheriff of Nottingham is hilarious, it sounds like he should be in a leather jacket and sunglasses. 

I like how this episode is so immersed in fantasy, and the Doctor’s the one who keeps bringing it back to reality with his endless questioning. I dunno, I just really like the way how the Doctor so abruptly pulls you from being engrossed in all the Robin Hood stuff. It’s like, yeah here’s Robin Hood, but remember, this is still Doctor Who. XD 

This is one of my favourite episodes for music. The track “Robert, Earl of Loxley” is so good and fits with the scene so perfectly! I mean, they always do, but this one is a great one. 

Again, Clara’s adorable fangirling as she talks about Maid Marian. You can tell she’s living her childhood dream and her face is just priceless. 

“When did you start believing in impossible heroes?” “Don’t you know?” GOODBYE I’M DEAD. It’s like the Santa Claus line in Last Christmas and it gets me every time. The Doctor has no idea what he means to her. 

Clara’s little cheer when Robin Hood splits the arrow. ^-^

The Doctor is so concerned about Clara in this episode and it’s adorable. Like when Clara picks up this giant weapon the Doctor’s like “WHAT ARE YOU DOING PUT THAT DOWN!!!” And then later when Robin and Clara fall in the lake he looks so concerned and distressed, and when Robin and the Sheriff start fighting the Doctor very emphatically asks Clara if she’s okay. Duty of care.

Twelve is channeling Three so much in the archery competition scene, like first he blows stuff up with the sonic and then he uses Venusian aikido. Amazing. 

I love how done Clara is with everything in the cell scene. She has to go teacher mode on Robin and the Doctor like they’re some of her students or something. 

“Had a bag of crisps this morning, thanks.” One of my fave lines because of her face and the way she says it. Again, priceless. 

Like I was saying earlier, I just really love that Mark Gatiss proved with Clara in this episode that you can be a really strong and in control woman but also be a fangirl at the same time? I like the way he did that. Way to go. 

Is the Sheriff related to Count Olaf or something? Because he keeps referring to himself as a “brave and handsome man.” 

“Awwww yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah.” Doctor. Please. XD

Again channeling Three as Twelve makes funny faces while trying to escape from his handcuffs. This is a very Pertwee day for him, isn’t it? 

The way Twelve’s so appalled by Marian kissing him on the cheek. He’s just totally stunned for a few seconds. 

“History is a burden. Stories can make us fly.” I LOVE that line so much. 

I’m falling a little bit behind with the rewatch because of work, but I should be able to get back on schedule within the next couple of weeks! :) Thanks for reading, everyone! Happy rewatching!

[ferrybaker0-blog]

The musical heyday of Laurel Canyon

It was summer 1968 in Laurel Canyon. “Mama” Cass Elliot, the big-hearted den mother of the LA music scene, was having a picnic at her rambling estate on Woodrow Wilson Drive, a not uncommon occurrence. “My house is a very free house,” Elliot told Rolling Stone. “It’s not a crash pad and people don’t come without calling. But on an afternoon, especially on weekends, I always get a lot of delicatessen food in because I know David [Crosby] is going to come over for a swim and things are going to happen.”

That afternoon, Crosby had indeed come calling, bringing with him his newest find, Joni Mitchell. The ethereal Canadian singer-songwriter played song after song on Elliot’s lawn, as picnic-goers, including Elliot’s neighbor Micky Dolenz (The Monkees), frolicked on the grass. One guest, a virtuoso British guitarist named Eric Clapton, simply sat transfixed by Mitchell’s musicianship. “Music happens in my house, and that pleases me,” Elliot explained.

During the ’60s and ’70s, music happened with frequency throughout Laurel Canyon, once described by director and writer Lisa Cholodenko as “kind of lazy and kind of dirty and kind of earthy and sort of reckless.”

Countless famous musicians of the era would live or crash in the canyon. They included Neil Young, Carole King, J.D. Souther, Leon Russell, Chris Hillman, Alice Cooper, Stephen Stills, John Mayall, Nico, Leonard Cohen, Judy Collins, Peter Tork, Pamela Des Barres and her band Girls Together Outrageously, John and Michelle Phillips, Don Henley, Glenn Frey, Jimmy Webb, and members of The Animals, and The Turtles.

“There was amazing tribal life,” recalled Jackson Browne, who lived in the laundry room of the house of talent scout Billy James.

These young, wild artists were drawn to the canyon’s winding roads, country-like setting, and its plethora of secluded homes with mysterious, bohemian histories that stretched back decades. The musicians found what generations of Laurel Canyon residents have also found—a refuge, where they had the space to form their own counterculture family, and create their own kind of music.

Laurel Canyon was “a place in the middle of this big city that people escaped to,” As the artist Gary Burden explained to Michael Walker, author of Laurel Canyon: The Inside Story of Rock and Roll’s Legendary Neighborhood. “Many of these people didn’t really have family scenes of their own... I think people found in those early days the family they always wanted.”

Mick Jagger lies in a hammock and strums a guitar at Stephen Stills’ house in Laurel Canyon in 1969.

Getty Images

According to Michael Walker, in the nineteen-teens an eccentric developer named Charles Spencer Mann began to shape the neighborhood into the rustic oasis that would draw rock’s hippie gods to it. Walker writes:

Mann christened his subdivision Bungalow Land…To lure desirables to a canyon largely populated by coyotes and rattlesnakes, Mann commissioned a trolley from Sunset Boulevard whose cars ran on roads instead of rails. The nation’s first “trackless trolley” was soon depositing prospective Babbitts at the intersection of Laurel Canyon Boulevard and a rugged trail that leaped up a cut in the canyon’s west wall to the top of Lookout Mountain, a twelve-hundred-foot peak with comely views to the Pacific Ocean and the nascent downtown Los Angeles.

A cluster of rustic bungalows and hunting cabins were built. The original Canyon Country Store opened in 1919 (though it burned in 1929). By the 1930s, it was rumored that Mann’s aging bungalows were home to popular brothels and speakeasies. Wild movie stars like Mary Astor, Orson Welles, Clara Bow, and Errol Flynn lived in rambling estates in the secluded canyon, which always had a whiff of danger about it.

When movie star Robert Mitchum was busted for possession of pot in 1948, it was at a home in Laurel Canyon, which the LAPD told the Los Angeles Times was “ideally situated to be a ‘reefer resort.’ It is perched on a hillside, with no near neighbors, and well-screened by shrubbery.”

Soon the whole canyon would be a “reefer resort” of sorts. Beatniks and artists were drawn to the canyon throughout the ’40s and ’50s. According to Walker, one of the first boomer musicians to move to the canyon was The Byrd’s Chris Hillman, a 19-year-old guitarist in the first bloom of success. In 1964, he went to Laurel Canyon, looking for a place to live. He told Walker:

This guy drives up and he says, ‘You looking for a place to rent? I said yeah, and he said, ‘Well, follow me up.’ It was this young guy who was a dentist. It was his parents’ house, a beautiful old wood house down a dirt road—and he lived on the top, and he was renting out the bottom part. I just went, ‘Wow, perfect.’

Others soon joined Hillman, including an effervescent Valley teenager, Pamela Des Barres, who was just beginning her career as a legendary groupie. She would often go up to his home on Magnolia Lane.

“I used to go there even when he was on the road and just hang out,” she told Walker. “He had a hammock on the porch, so when he was on the road, I would sleep there at night. I was psycho.”

As the folk, psychedelic and country rock scene exploded, more and more newly famous and soon-to-be-famous musicians moved into Laurel Canyon homes both big and small, bringing their egalitarian lifestyle of peace, drugs, and counter-culture abandon with them.

“All the California rock stars lived up there, and you could hear music from every window,” Des Barres wrote in her memoir, I’m with the Band. “Parties everywhere. You just never knew what was going to happen.”

“It had a smell of eucalyptus, and in the spring, which was the rainy season then, a lot of wildflowers would spring up. Laurel Canyon had a wonderful distinctive smell to it.”

Cass Elliot, flush with cash from her band, The Mamas and the Papas, reigned as the “Gertrude Stein of Laurel Canyon.”

She most famously introduced Graham Nash to David Crosby and Stephen Stills, correctly convinced that their voices would blend magically together. On her living room wall, she had her guests write whatever they liked, and soon it was filled with the witty words of her famous friends.

Joni Mitchell moved into a tiny house on Lookout Mountain.

“My friend [photographer] Joel Bernstein found an old book in a flea market that said: Ask anyone in America where the craziest people live and they’ll tell you California,” she recalled to Vanity Fair. “Ask anyone in Hollywood where the craziest people live and they’ll say Laurel Canyon. And ask anyone in Laurel Canyon where the craziest people live and they’ll say Lookout Mountain. So, I bought a house on Lookout Mountain.”

Laurel Canyon did not disappoint. “That was hippie heaven, with a little rustic fireplace and a good feeling,” Mitchell told Vanity Fair. “There would be nights when everybody sat up and played acoustic music and swapped songs.”

She recalled hearing a cacophony of young bands rehearsing in the afternoon. “At night it was quiet except for cats and mockingbirds,” she remembered. “It had a smell of eucalyptus, and in the spring, which was the rainy season then, a lot of wildflowers would spring up. Laurel Canyon had a wonderful distinctive smell to it.”

Mitchell began a relationship with Graham Nash, who soon moved into the cluttered little house. “It was a small house,” Nash recalled to Walker, “and it was a thing of, who got to the piano first? She was in the middle of a record and was writing daily; and I was in the middle of a record with David and Stephen and I was writing daily. It just got to be crazy, y’know. Okay, she’s playing, and then: ‘Shall we have some lunch?’ And then we’d have lunch. And then maybe I’d get to the piano.”

One day, the couple went for a long walk, buying a flower vase along the way. When the got back to the house, filled with knickknacks and cats, Nash went to the piano. “I thought, I love this woman, and this moment is a very grounded moment in our relationship,” he remembered. “And I sat down at the piano and an hour later ‘Our House’ was done. It was kind of amazing.”

This ode to “countercultural domestic bliss” would become a hit for Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young in 1970. Numerous feel good songs, inspired by the friendly familial feeling the canyon inspired in once rootless artists and musicians, dotted the charts in the late 1960s and early ’70s.

John Phillips, who lived with his young wife Michelle in a house near their bandmate Mama Cass, wrote the 1967 hit “Twelve Thirty” (Young Girls Are Coming to the Canyon) about the young groupies, like Des Barres, who flooded the canyon every day:

Young girls are coming to the canyon

And in the mornings I can see them walking

I can no longer keep my blinds drawn

And I can’t keep myself from talking

At first so strange to feel so friendly

To say good morning and really mean it.

The heart of the community was at the rustic Canyon Country Store, where groupies and wannabe musicians would hang out, drinking apple wine, smoking weed, and waving to the “squares” driving their daily commute from the Valley to Beverly Hills.

Jim Morrison, not quiet yet the iconic “Lizard King” front man of The Doors, lived behind the store in a rundown house with his girlfriend Pamela Courson. The couple would often watch as the hippies hung out in front of the store, inspiring The Doors 1968 song “Love Street,” which includes the line:

I see you live on Love Street. There’s this store where the creatures meet.

In the egalitarian spirit of the late 1960s, not only wannabes hung out at the Canyon Store.

“My very first day in California, I drove up La Cienega to Sunset Boulevard, turned right, drove to Laurel Canyon, and the first person I saw standing on the porch at the Canyon Store was David Crosby,” Glenn Frey, future Laurel Canyon resident and Eagles front man, told Vanity Fair. “He was dressed exactly the way he was on the second Byrds album—that cape, and the flat wide-brimmed hat. He was standing there like a statue.”

But a kind of cynicism was forming in canyon residents and visitors alike. As Walker notes, even Mitchell, on her seminal 1970 album “Ladies of the Canyon,” sang of her fellow affected hippies with something approaching eagle-eyed satire:

Trina wears her wampum beads

She fills her drawing book with line

Sewing lace on widows’ weeds

And filigree on leaf and vine…

Trimmed with antique luxury

She is a lady of the canyon.

“Laurel Canyon was kind of a refuge for people who were incapable of eyeball-to-eyeball hustling on Sunset Boulevard,” music producer Kim Fowley told Walker. “You’d look out the window and write songs in a flannel shirt about timber and chrome… you retreated to the country charm of your little ticky-tack place.”

“If you took away their tumbleweeds and eucalyptus, they [the residents of Laurel Canyon] were fucking boring,” he concluded.

For those looking for a more hardcore scene, there was the home, studio, and commune of counter-culture rock impresario Frank Zappa.

For a few months in 1968, he lived in the sprawling Lookout Mountain log cabin once owned by the cowboy star Tom Mix. Already inhabited by a group of transient “hippies” and “freaks,” the cabin became a non-stop party scene.

“The place was huge and vault-like and cavernous—the living room was like seventy feet long and thirty feet across,” Gail Zappa remembered. “It was so dark. I think the oldest eucalyptus tree in Southern California overshadowed the whole property. There was no floor in the kitchen, just this sort of platform in one corner that had the stove sitting on it. It was infested constantly with bus groups of rock-and-roll bands looking for a place to crash.”

The Zappas soon moved to a more secluded part of the Canyon, where Frank would make music in his sprawling studio known as “Zappa’s Grubby Chamber” until his death.

As the 1970s dawned, many of Laurel Canyon’s most celebrated residents became more and more famous and begin to leave the canyon in droves for more expensive, exclusive homes.

The Manson murders in nearby Benedict Canyon in August of 1969 had put an end to the open-door, free love policy that had allowed the magical intermingling of the mid-to-late ’60s. In 1970, long-term residents of Laurel Canyon complained about the “skippies” they claimed were ruining their property values in the Los Angeles Times:

Shoddy, makeshift dwellings dot the hillside landscape…Many of the buildings are occupied by youths the hillsiders call “skippies” because they skip out on everything- rent, jobs, education…they say they are a harder, tougher hippie element than the flower children who flocked to the hills before them. Property owners link the nomadic youths with the downward trend in the canyon and with the rash of brush fires and burglaries that swept the hillside last summer. Many residents who once boasted they never locked their doors now say they are fearful.

“You can’t sell or get financing for lower Laurel Canyon” realtor Bob Crane told the Times. “I haven’t been able to get a loan there for a year and a half. It’s even hard to get a buyer past the Country Canyon Store.”

Many of the problems in Laurel Canyon and other hippie communities were made infinitely worse by the soaring popularity of cocaine, which became the go-to drug in the music industry and therefore the neighborhood.

“You could always go to the Canyon Store and just stand in the parking lot for a while, say to somebody: ‘Hey, I’m looking for some blow, you know anybody?’” a former resident told Walker. “But nobody had to do that. It was just rampant; it was everywhere.”

The whole scene got edgier and more masculine, as alpha-male corporate rock stars like Glenn Frey and Don Henley moved into the canyon, hosting legendary poker and football nights attended by the likes of their neighbor and boss David Geffen, founder of Asylum Records.

By the late 1970s, Laurel Canyon was “where drug dealers had valet parking,” remembered musician Michael Des Barres. Seedy coke dens were everywhere, and fire repeatedly decimated the area.

Tom Mix’s famed log cabin burned in 1981. That same year, the infamous drug-infused murders at 8763 Wonderland Avenue seemed to signal an end to the decadence left over from Laurel Canyon’s heyday.

Today, Laurel Canyon is still a rustic if high-end community that embraces its legendary rock roots. But as the Los Angeles Times noted in 2007, it’s difficult to find the exact homes the rock gods lived in decades ago. Fires, remolding, landslides and landscaping have changed the canyons geography, but not its home grown, friendly feel.

“Laurel Canyon today is a tight-knit collection of neighborhoods, colorful characters…protecting and preserving the Canyon’s character and traditions,” says resident Kristen Stavola, executive director of the nonprofit We Are Laurel Canyon.

Every year, Canyon residents gather together to take a picture in front of the Canyon Country Store, a stone’s throw away from the historical marker that now commemorates Jim Morrison’s “Love Street.”

“We Are Laurel Canyon is pulling together a story teller series, ‘Loaded in Laurel Canyon,’” Stavola says. “It will feature stories told by colorful people who have lived in the area through the decades. I’d love to track down Keith Richards and ask him about the night he burned my next-door neighbor’s house to the ground. Does he even remember it?”

Source: https://la.curbed.com/2019/1/10/18169234/laurel-canyon-road-country-store-history

[luminousnotmatter]

💗🥰😍🥰💗💗💗💖💖💕💕 a;lskdjf;l my Sweet T!!!!!!!! @damerondjarin oh my gracious you’re so dear to me. 💗🥰 THank you for thinking my ask is cute!! *blushes*

Your empathy regarding the end of TCW is deeply, *deeply* appreciated, my friend. 💖 (I could write like a twelve-paragraph ramble on how beautiful I thought it was, not to mention the emotiONS I FELT 😨😭😍) I can’t even articulate how *excited* I am to watch The Bad Batch, and how much I am so very certain it will help SO MUCH, just as you say. 😍🥰💯🙌🏻

(I will come back to answer you about my Fave Clone Boys in a second, I promise. 😊👍)

d;slfkjaoifwje ohhh I so *approve* of your clone bfs lisssttt. 😍🥰😍 Honestly, T, it’s *chef’s kiss* 💯🔥 Hevy being on there a;lsdkjf YES PLEASE AND FULLY APPROVED. AnD HUNTER *clutches face* THE B E L O V E D. Cody? *chef’s kiss* REX??? THE CAPTAIN HIMSELF????? 💯😍💯 Yeah. A good list. A *really* good list. All of ‘em. 😍

I do just LOVE that at the end of the day: Fives is really It For You™. The Ideal™. Husband Status™.  I *completely* u n d e r s t a n d and support that y’know?? He really…………..really is kinda just Everything™ and I wholly agree with that

and speaking of him: a;sdlf;jasld UM, MA’AM??? A;SLDKFJA;SLDKF??? YOU HAVE A FIVES //AND// A REX TATTOO??? THAT’S FREAKING BOMB DOT COM 🔥🔥🔥💯💯😱😱 AND MAY I PLEASE SEE????? I KINDA *NEED* TO SEE, TAYLOR. PLEASE. IS THERE A LINK SOMEWHERE OR COULD YOU SEND ME A PICTURE???

alsdjjf;alskdfj I’m legit giddy thinking about all the possibilities of your “long list” of oc clones 😱😍😍💯🥰🥰, “Shred” being the main focus one a;sld I’m just beaming and grinning ;alskjdf;alskd ohhhh ngl, Taylor I kind of definitely love him already. Can’t wait till you’re ready to share him and others with us, both just to describe them and include them in fic a;sldkjfa;slk jGONNA BE A REAL GOOD DAY HERE SOON, FOLKS. 

Oh my cripes, it must be *SO* fun to get to explore and play around with characterization and whatnot with the OCs!!! The sandbox really is there for it, thanks to the show! I LOVE THAT, TAYLOR!!! Hahahah, no worries, no worries, you gotta play this kinda close to the vest right now, and I have the patience to wait for such a good thing as this. I trust you when you say it won’t be long. 😏👌🏻😏🔥 ;LSKDJF;LK FRICK ME I’M EXCITED THOUGHGHGHG 💖💗💕 Prithee tag me in whatever writings you post about them, if you think of doing so, thank you so much. 💖

Imma insert a ‘Read More’ now so that I don’t clog up anybody’s dash if they aren’t into any of these Clone Feels Shenanigans. 😊👍

Okay. Now. This is already *real long and rambly* (aka business as usual with me😂🤷‍♀️) so I’ll try to keep it at least fairly succinct, buT: MY FAVE CLONE BOYS. *settles in to think more comfortably* Rex is definitely way way up there for me as well. He’s just……..the competency and badassery and sass and having Anakin’s back (both in helping keep Skyguy’s Secret Marriage, well, secret, and as his comrade-in-arms)  as well as that of his brothers’, and his deep caring for them and loyalty to them and desire to do right by them always as their leader and brother, and the way he looks out for Ahsoka but also respects the crap out of her and trusts in her capabilities (THE PAINTING OF THE HELMETS TO LOOK LIKE HER, **U G H** TAYLOR I WILLL //NEVER EVER// BE OVER IT) he’s such a GOOD MAN™, TAYLOR?? SUCH A STEVE ROGERS TYPE™ AND I???? LOVE HIM A LOT??? WOULD LIKE TO MARRY HIM??? KISS HIS FACE IF HE’D BE INTO THAT???? HOLD HIM TIGHT??? HAVE HIM HOLD ME BACK??? 💖💕💗💯 I kind of already said this: BUT I LOW-TO-HIGH-KEY FEEL *JUST LIKE YOU* ABOUT FIVES. FOR WHAT MUST BE THE SAME OR VERY SIMILAR REASONS. HE’S…..///y e a h///. He’s Fives. Fives Supremacy Society: members-Taylor and Clara.💯💯💗💗🥵💖🔥😏👀💕 *clears throat* MOVING ON. Echo is super duper special to me too, but it’s not in the dateable-bangable-marryable way really, lol, I just have like Ferociously Protective And Loving Big Sister Feelings about him, y’know? He’s so precious and pure (and of course skilled and capable of kicking so much ass 💖💗) and good-hearted and funny and adorable and I just want absolutely nothing but the best for him always (AND FOR ALL OF THEM TBH) he’s really, really dear to my heart. He’s been through so much and deserved absolutely *none* of it, but somehow clung to who he was-A SWEET, PERFECT BABY BEAN- through it and wow I just feel all of the Fond Big Sister Emotions about Echo. 🥺😭💗  Of the Bad Batch, in the limited, s7-episodes-only capacity that I know them so far: Hunter is *OBVIOUSLY* approved-of *highly* 👀💯🔥😏, I mean, that Strider/Aragorn Archetype™ vibe is all over the place and I’m really all about it. *chef’s kiss* UH-HUH, YES MA’AM. I also noticed myself enjoying Tech a lot too, just that perfect hilarious adorable blunt manner and genius brain, but you can tell he’s got the sweetest lil’ heart underneath that. Honestly they’re each splendid and wonderful and their bond is *chef’s kiss* and I love that they’re this absolutely elite kill-squad-type, play-by-their-own-rules *brotherhood* I am really really all the way here for that. SO THANKFUL I have a whole show to keep knowing and loving them without having to wait for it to be released hahaha.  Honestly, Taylor, the funny thing is is like, I feel I *don’t* actually remember/know/love/have particular feelings about as many specific clones as I would like to!! Does that make sense??? I mean, for example: Kix is one of them that I remember, and I know I *love*, but I couldn’t put any fingers on specific reasons *why*, -besides maybe his being a medic, I just love that, his job being to help and heal first and foremost, rather than to fight💖💕🥰. And I *KNOW* I’d agree with you about Bly………but I just don’t remember him specifically well enough to do so haha. Honestly it makes me sorta sad. I hope I explained that sufficiently lol. 😆I think the reasoning behind this happening to/for me is that I took a fairly long time to watch the whole series, with plenty of stops and starts as I went along (based on ebbing and flowing interest in watching it. I’m a mood-based watcher of stuff haha) and that made remembering certain specifics more difficult, naturally, lol. BUT, I, no joke, started over from the beginning last night, and I’m really looking forward to this watch-through because I’ll be less focused on just plot and my own ‘WOAH WOW THIS IS SO GOOD/CRAZY/ETC’ from the first time through and able to really *sink in* to falling in love with the characters, *specifically and especially* the clones, because as we *KNOW* they *DESERVE ALL THE LOVE*. AND I WANT MORE CLONE BOYFRIENDS, HONESTLY. WHO WOUDLN’T? 😏🤷‍♀️🥵👀

AAAAAAAAAALLLLRIGHTY. Well. That’s enough from ME on this tonight. 😂🤐😬 It’s way too late and I need to sleep BUT AS;DLFKASD THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME AND ENGAGING IN MY BABBLE AND I LOVED EVERYTHING YOU HAD TO SAY AND PLEASE CONTINUE THIS IF YOU’D LIKE TO I’D LOVE TO KEEP READING YOUR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS!!! 

❌⭕❌⭕💖😍🥰💗💕💖

P.S. Remember when I said I was going to try to keep the last bit “at least fairly succinct”??? 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤣🤣🤣🤣

#me w/ my 800 clone boyfriends #pls i have so many clone boy ocs ⬅⬅⬅Um, Taylor, not to be demanding but as somebody who just finished watching TCW *tonight* and is jUST TRYING TO FEEL BETTER (#EmotionalDevastationReasons 😭😨😭) AND ALSO HAS CLONE BOY FEELINGS, I would like to cordially invite you to please talk about your Clone Boys. !!!!!!!!!!!! Of the boyfriendy or OC nature or otherwise. PLEASE???? I NEED TO KNOW?? THANK YOU?? I 💖💕💖-Clara 🥰

LKJAHKGJLSJGKJSG OMGGGGGGGG THIS IS SO CUTE!!! WHAT!! clara you sweetheart you!!!

and the ending of that show my goodness- it hurts. def watch the bad batch ok? that'll help!!!

and i wanna know who ur faves are~!

well of my clone bfs on the show- the ones i go back to as my faves are: fives, rex, hevy, hunter, cody, howzer, bly, and o'niner!!!

fives IS my fave, rex is pretty close second. but fives is just like?? my type? i even have a tattoo for him! (i have a rex one too algkjsgl)

and for my ocs i have a uhhh long list LOL and i plan on making a more official? post about them later but the main one im fleshing out rn is named shred!!! im hoping to write a fic about him soon as well!!

but w/ my ocs its fun to experiment and write about characters in different ways! i realize im not saying much about them LOL but i will soon!!

[theladyjojogrant]

My thoughts on The Pilot!

Below the cut because I’ll probably ramble. 

First of all: I loved it. 

The episode felt exactly like I wanted it to. It was slower paced, with lots of focus on Bill and her relationship with the Doctor but still very, very creepy. (I’m ready to have nightmares about water tonight.) 

It was a fantastic and different companion introduction! I absolutely love the fact that the Doctor and Bill became friends before she even knew about the TARDIS and all that. Not saying that past companions loved the Doctor only because he could travel in space and time, but it was cool that Bill liked him for being his crazy Doctor self and not for anything else. (I died when she gave him a Christmas present. Like. I cry.) 

Speaking of that, I just loved Twelve in this episode. There’s a noticeable difference in him. He’s so much softer, much more perceptive. I couldn’t believe it when he asked Bill what was wrong when she walked into his office, and my eyes could have popped out of my head when he later asked her if there was anything he could do to help her after they traveled to Australia. Of course, we saw a little bit of this change in The Return of Doctor Mysterio, but it was really evident in this episode. Spending 24 years with River Song healed him, and now he’s more adorable than ever. 

Okay, back to the episode. Like I said, I liked the slow pacing and focus on people and relationships. I thought it was funny that the Daleks showed up in the episode but they weren’t a main plot point at all! The revelation of why Heather was following Bill was so sad, like ugh. Why. But I’m still totally freaked out by the water now, thanks Moffat. 

BUT DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE FREAKING MEMORY WIPE. THAT WAS NOT OKAY, MOFFAT. I THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH THAT. I DON’T NEED TO BE REMINDED THANK YOU, MY HEART IS STILL IN A THOUSAND PIECES FROM HELL BENT. 

Honestly the only thing I’m disappointed in is the music. It felt kinda...off. I think the balance between dialogue and the instrumental music was a little wonky when I watched it so that might have been it. It just felt too obvious. The coolest thing about great incidental music is that it’s there and you notice it, but it doesn’t stick out and distract you from what’s going on. And the music in the episode just seemed to stick out, and not in a great way. Of course Clara’s Theme killed me though, that was perfect (and awful). I also think it’s interesting that Murray Gold keeps using Amy’s Theme for random stuff that has nothing to do with Amy? I’ve always been kind of ehhh about that because it’s her theme, buuut...it did sound really cool with the TARDIS reveal so I can’t really complain. That whole scene was awesome. 

So yeah. I love Twelve, I love Bill, I loved the episode. We’ll see what happens with the music. 

P.S. What’s in the Vault?????