#like i fully believe the correct decision would have been to give it to chimney so he can go with them

[usercelestial]

the fucking henren fight was so good i don't believe anyone who says it was forced tbh, like respect but that shit went hard for me, i love when couples rehash things and bring up old wounds and fight about shit they think they've put to rest. like karen is 100% valid for feeling like hen is constantly missing the big moments because of her job, even if it's something she made peace with a while ago, even though she knows that being a firefighter is important to hen, that it's something she's passionate about and that she wouldn't want her wife any other way, but sometimes, especially now that they have mara, it just gets to her. like okay fine, you missed christmas that one time, and then new years but that's okay, and alright valentine's day is one of the craziest times of the year but also so is thanksgiving and there's only so much karen can say "okay, i understand, it's your job" to before that same old, ugly feeling rises up again.

[barnes-belle]

Beauty and the Barnes (2)

A Modern Retelling Of Beauty and The Beast. 

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - Bucky X Reader

WARNINGS - Lots of Smut, Light Hints of Non/Dub-Con, Prostitution, Swearing, Dark Bucky.

When your father falls deathly ill you fall into a lifestyle you would have could have never predicted for yourself. Selling your body as a high-class escort isn’t ideal but it’s the only way to find the money you need to help your father, until your first client offers you another way.

Bucky’s mean, coarse and gets a kick out of watching you squirm but he is willing to help your father. All you have to do is sign yourself over to The Winter Soldier, body and soul.

Trapped in The Avengers compound, serving as a PA to a man who’s an absolute beast you find yourself wondering if there’s such a thing as a happy ending?

Chapter Two

You kicked the front door open with your foot as you juggled the keys and the bags of groceries.

“Dad?” You called out, looking around the open for him.

 “Oh sweetheart, there you are. Could you *cough* pass me the *cough*…” He said, peering at you from behind a canvas.

 “The cornflower blue?” You asked, smiling sadly and passing him the paint.

 He nodded happily, choosing to save his voice.

 Once upon a time your father had been an incredible painter. He never sought riches or fame, just enough to get by and make sure you had all you needed. Beyond that, he just wanted to bring a little beauty and joy into people’s lives. These days, he painted for himself. He was to weak, too shaky to give his art the same level of detail as before and it had become a private hobby.

 “Dad, why isn’t the fireplace lit? We have a top floor apartment so you can use the chimney.” You scolded, dropping the groceries onto the countertop and hurrying over to the fireplace.

 “It dries out the paint.” He wheezed.

 “It also helps your lungs. Cold air, bad!” You said for the billionth time as you stuffed newspapers under the logs.

 He devolved into a violent coughing fit behind you and you sighed, knowing there was nothing you could do to ease it.

 “I’ll put the groceries away.” You told him and he waved you off, picking up his paintbrush again.

 You slowly put all the healthy foods into the fridge, contemplating the life changing decision you’d been given last night, pretending to ponder over it. It was your father’s health, his life you were talking about here though and you knew that ultimately, you were going to sign yourself over to Bucky Barnes. You pulled out your phone and sent a text to Mrs Pamela, telling her it just wasn’t the right lifestyle for you and promptly blocked her number. That was when you noticed the new email notification.

  From: JBBTWS@Starkmail.com

Subject: I think this will satisfy your father’s needs.

 You clicked open the email and nearly dropped the phone in shock at the online brochure it led you to. The out of state clinic was one of the best in the country, specialising in lung disorders. The pictures showed a sleek, clean, homely looking facility that boasted the best doctors. It was the sort of place that you couldn’t even have dreamt of sending your father.

 “Dad?”

 “Hmm?”

 “I have a Job interview with Stark Industries today, if I get it my medical insurance will cover your treatments. Better, you’ll get really good care.” You said, fudging the truth.

 “Yes but *cough* do you want this job? Will you like working *cough* there?” You father asked in concern.

 “I would love to get this job!” You lied through your teeth.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------

 You smoothed your hands over the skirt of your dress nervously as you got out of your beat up old rickety pick-up truck and stepped inside the building, slipping the lanyard that had been given to you at the front gate over your neck. There was a reception desk, but it was unmanned and you looked around nervously.

 “Hello, is anyone there?” You called quietly.

 “Hello Miss Belle.” A woman’s voice said from nowhere and you yelped and spun round looking for the owner of the mysterious voice.

 “Hello…. Ghost?” You answered.

 “My name is Friday; I am an Artificial Intelligence system. Sergeant Barnes is expecting you, if you’ll step into the elevator, I will send you to the correct floor.” Friday said.

 “Oh, why thank you very much Friday.” You said kindly as an elevator door slid open on the other side of the room and you hurried towards it.

 As the elevator carried you up, you wondered if it would be rude of you to correct an AI about your name. You decided against it, you didn’t want to offend or embarrass her.

 “Sergeant Barnes is waiting for you in his suite. Turn left, then right and it’s the second door on the right.” Friday instructed.

 “Thankyou Friday!” You called, hurrying out of the elevator with your head down, hoping you didn’t run into anybody.

 You made your way to the correct door and raised your hand to knock but before you did it swung open and Bucky Barnes looked down at you with an unimpressed, almost bored expression.

 “You made the right choice. Sign these.” He said, tossing a pile of papers at you.

 “Can I read them?” You asked, catching them awkwardly as you crossed the threshold.

 “The point of reading a contract is to make sure you’re not signing your soul away. You are signing your soul over to me, and your body with it. Besides, those are just the standard NDA’s and privacy clauses all Stark employee’s sign.” He said, sitting down and watching you.

 “Right…” you said, looking through your bag for a pen.

 He held one up in your line of vison and you took it.

 “Does it use Ink or Blood?” You joked.

 “Why, do you have a bloodplay kink you want me to indulge?” He asked and you couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.

 “Nope. My only kink is being completely owned and controlled by handsome 100-year-old assassins?” You offered and there was a flash of something in his eyes.

 You took a deep breath and screwed your eyes closed so you didn’t have to watch yourself sign your life away. As soon as you were done he snatched the papers away and handed you a single sheet of paper.

 “Now sign this.” He instructed.

 “This contract gives you uninhabited access to my body, whenever, wherever and however you chose. In return, you will pay for my father’s admission and stay at The Clinic and all treatments needed. That’s literally all it says.” You spluttered.

 “That’s all it needs to say.”

 “I…” You began but he was right. What more was there to be said?

 “Is it even legally binding?” You asked.

 “The law is the least of your worries if you break a contract with me. But yes. Friday serves as a witness.” He informed you.

 “What about if you break the contract?” You asked.

 “I won’t.” He stated.

 “But what if…”

 “I’m not going to.”

 “But how do I know that?”

 “I WONT!” He roared; patience spent.

 You had to believe him. It was your dads’ best chance. So nodded and scribbled your signature onto the paper. For such a monumental moment in your life, it was rather anti-climactic, and you pulled back to regard the paper with a puzzled frown.

 “What now?” He snapped.

 “I don’t know… I was expecting it to burst into flames or something.” You admitted.

 “How… why… never mind.” He sighed, looking at you like you were an idiot and grabbing your elbow and dragging you over to a door on the far side of the room.

 “This is your room. Mine is that one.” He said, pointing to the opposite side of the room.

 “So, you don’t live in Brooklyn? Wait. MY room?” You yelped.

 “Yes, your room. I want you fully moved in by tomorrow night at the latest. It’s in the contracts you just signed. The clinic is coming for your father, in about… 25 minutes.” He told you.

 “What? But… but I didn’t even get to say goodbye! I’ll never make it home on time!”

 “Not my problem. I promised to get him help, I have. You’re being given a tour of the compound and getting your security clearance by one of the on-site PA’s in a few minutes, so we don’t have a lot of time.” He said callously, pushing you into the living area.

 “But…” You objected.

 “Listen, you belong to me now. You agreed to it, so stop fucking being annoying about it and do as I damn well say.”

 You snapped your mouth closed and tried to brush aside the thought you’d made a terrible mistake and the worry for your father and nodded to him. Your new master.

 “Turn around.” He instructed.

 When you did, he quickly unzipped your dress and slipped the straps over your shoulders, pushing the dress to the floor.

 “We don't have a lot of time, but I don't want you walking around the building meeting all these superheroes without remembering who you belong too.” He told you.

 He spun you around so you were facing him and sat down in the chair. You stood there unsure exactly of what you're supposed to do until he unzipped himself and pulled his fully hard cock free. You stifled a gasp, somehow in your mind you'd managed to downplay how big it was but seeing again now you remembered how difficult it had been to fit that thing inside of you.

 “Well don't just stand there Belle, this is your job now.” He reprimanded.

You stepped forward and began to sink to your knees but he tutted at you and you sighed and leant over him instead, wrapping your hand around his cock. You couldn’t fit your fingers all the way around him as you tentatively and experimentally pumped your hand up and down his shaft.

 “Hmm. Put a little effort into it.” He said coldly.

 So you did. Your back started to burn from the awkward hunched over position quickly and your arm started to ache from the continues pumping. It was so… mundane. This was the man who ordered prostitutes to get off, not the cruel, sadistic and almost cheekily charming man who’d made you ride him.

 You strangely missed that man, at least he’d had a shade of life in him. So, you did something potentially stupid and leaned over to lick the bead of pre-cum leaking from his tip. He cocked his head curiously at you but didn’t reprimand you, so you slowly closed your lips over the very tip of him and almost teasingly sucked as you pumped your hand along his shaft, twisting your wrist and squeezing him.

 “There’s my Belle.” He praised.

 He stood up, forcing you to stand upright as he did, and you continued to jerk him off as he pulled your underwear down over your hips, leaving them about midway down your thigh. He leant forward so the head of his cock was jutting over the edge of your panties and you figured out was he was doing. He was going to make you carry a reminder of who you belonged to with you for the rest of the day and you swallowed thickly.

 His fingers hooked under your chin and forced you to look up at him. He gazed at your face with a look you couldn’t quite place for a few moments before you felt him twitch in your hand and you glanced down to watch as he spurted roped of white cum into your panties, some of it splashing off of your pussy. He groaned and you pumped him until he was done and he quickly pulled your panties back up, further than they needed to be until it was almost painful.

 You could feel his sticky, warm seed press against your most intimate parts and you shuddered at the sensation. Especially when it oozed out of your underwear and trickled down your leg. He zipped himself back up and tossed your dress at you and walked towards the door, sighing and stopping without turning when he didn’t hear you move.

 “What are you doing?” He asked.

 “I don’t want to move yet?” You said timidly.

 “Why?”

 “Because… It’ll…. You know? It’ll squelch.” You explained.

 His shoulders shook and for a brief second you thought he might be laughing until he turned around and glared at you.

 “You’ll suffer a lot worse than wet panties while you’re here. Trust me. Fucking move.” He snarled and you hurriedly pulled your dress back on, twisting around to pull the zipper up.

 He unceremoniously pushed you out of the door and smacked you ass before the door slammed in your face.

 “I don’t know where I’m supposed to go!” You shouted.

 No response.

 “Bucky?”

 Nothing.

 “Friday?” You said hopefully.

 “Yes Miss Belle, I’m here. If you head back towards the elevator, the common room is opposite, and your escort is waiting there for you.” Friday said helpfully.

 “Thankyouu.” You whispered, walking awkwardly towards the common room.

 There was indeed squelching and though you would never, ever admit it out loud, having Bucky’s cum soaking through your underwear and coating your pussy was actually not an entirely unpleasant feeling. You gradually straightened up, getting used to the feeling.

 You wandered into the common room, looking around for your ‘escort’.

 “Who’s that?”

 “Is that her? Are you the girl?

 “I think it is. Are you Belle?”

 You stood in the doorway, dumbstruck. The two men, the two very famous men looked over you curiously, bordering on concern when you didn’t move.

 You really hoped neither Captain America nor The Falcon was your tour guide because you were not making a good impression.

 “Yes! I’m Belle.” You said without thinking.

 It was really starting to look like you were stuck with the name.

  A/N - I'm still not 100% sure about this fic so this is the decider chapter for me. I tried to make Bucky beastly but still Bucky and I wanted Belle to be sweet and innocent but still have a sassy streak.In case you would like to know... 

Lumiere - Steve Cogsworth - Sam Mrs Potts - Tony Chip - Peter Parker

@spnqueen02 @nogardsoahk @chipilerendi @jessieray98 @nochampagnesocialist @scarlettswxtch @dropthepizza346

[mbtizone]

Clara Oswald (Doctor Who): ENFJ

Dominant Extroverted Feeling [Fe]: Clara is very much in tune with the emotions of the people around her, and she has no trouble expressing her own. She is typically friendly and good-natured, but when someone crosses a line, she will tell them exactly how they made her feel. She can admit when she’s hurt or frightened, and she will make it known if she is angry or anxious. However, in certain situations, she will put her own feelings aside in order to keep the peace. She’s angry when the Doctor leaves her behind, but even though she’s mad at him, she stops herself from berating him about it because it was the “wrong thing to say” and they “shouldn’t be having an an argument.” She lies to Danny about continuing to travel with the Doctor because she’s afraid of how he will react. She doesn’t have to spend very much time with Professor Palmer and Emma to realize that they have romantic feelings for one another, and meddles in the situation, asking Emma if she’s aware of the way he feels about her. After their mother dies, Clara remains with the Maitland’s for a year, putting off her travel plans in order to help care for the children. She’s caring, selfless, and giving. When she meets Merry, she is encouraging and supportive, insisting that Merry will get her song right. She is instantly protective of her and genuinely wants to help. Clara craves external validation, particularly from the Doctor. “How did I do? Was I okay?” She wants him to admit it when she does something well because she needs the affirmation. She wants him to be proud of her and cares about whether she impresses him. Clara is warm, encouraging, empathetic, and extremely moral. She cares very much about the safety, happiness, and well-being of other people (or aliens). Clara is very physically affectionate, often hugging the Doctor (even against his will when he regenerates into Twelve, a very firm non-hugger). She often clashes with Twelve because of his tendency to be rude, cold, and indifferent towards people’s feelings. Clara tries to force him to tell Courtney that she’s special, because when he told her she wasn’t it hurt and saying something like that to an impressionable teenager can leave a scar for the rest of her life. You can’t just go around telling children that they aren’t special, even if it’s true! Clara often uses her emotional insights to reason with her adversaries. She uses her understanding of them to bargain. Clara reminds Skaldak of the way he hesitated when she begged him not to kill before, and pleads for him to show the same compassion now. She knows that the Doctor isn’t the Doctor when he begins to “admit” the way he feels about her, and immediately hits him because she knows that even if he did feel those things, he would never, ever say them aloud. She knows how much the Doctor regrets what he did during the Time War, and she can see that he would give anything to change it. It is Clara who convinces him to undo the genocide he carried out all those years ago. Clara can usually tell what the Doctor needs, and realizes that he needs a moment alone after they save Gallifrey. When it’s time for Clara to face the raven, she demands that the Doctor not insult her memory by using her death as an excuse to wage war. She doesn’t want anybody else to die and orders him to stand down. Even though Ashildr is the reason for her death, she does not wish her to be harmed and wants the violence to end with her.

Auxiliary Introverted Intuition [Ni]: Throughout her time with the Doctor, Clara has made many intuitive leaps, that she’s usually believes with complete certainty, and they are often proven to be correct. Clara is quickly able to realize that her connection with the Zygon works both ways. She can control it just as it can control her. She’s positive that it needs her alive, which it does. She also has an appreciation for symbolism and the deeper meaning of things. She understands the significance of the leaf that brought her parents together, and knows that it isn’t just full of history, but an entire future that will never get to happen, and instinctively knows that it will be enough to feed the Old God. However, she sometimes puts so much faith in her hunches that, when she is wrong, the consequences can be disastrous. She is certain that if she takes the chronolock from Rigsy, they will be able to buy more time and figure out how to stop it, because Ashildr promised that Clara was under her personal protection. Even though she wasn’t there, she is absolutely positive that Rigsy didn’t kill anybody, and never doubts him. She immediately believes that he’s been set up, and is fiercely determined to prove his innocence. Clara is convinced that the TARDIS doesn’t like her (Fe-Ni) and sometimes gets into arguments with it. Clara likes to think ahead and doesn’t generally want to do anything without a proper plan. She’s constantly asking the Doctor what his plan is, though he rarely ever has one. She knows that if the Doctor is at her school, there is an alien threat and that his strategy for dealing with the Blitzer will endanger the school because he hasn’t shared his plan with her, indicating that she wouldn’t approve of his method, which clearly means that he’s putting the school at risk. Because Clara fully believes that the future can be better, she encourages the Doctor to undo what he did to Gallifrey. Even though the War Doctor looks a lot older than her Doctor, she knows that he’s actually much younger just by looking into his eyes. After the Doctor shaves his head, he claims he did it as part of a “clever plan” but she knows that he really just “got bored one night.”

Tertiary Extroverted Sensing [Se]: Clara enjoys living in the moment and running into dangerous situations. She’s excited by action and adventure, she gets a thrill out of escaping perilous circumstances. She wants to experience everything the universe has to offer. Sometimes (particularly following Danny’s death), she can be downright reckless, which is what leads to her own demise. After losing Danny, Clara loops a bit. She’s so distraught and grief-stricken that, when the Doctor shows up, she goes around the TARDIS swiping each and every key, asks him take her to a volcano, and impulsively tosses every one into the lava until the Doctor agrees to help her bring Danny back. It is only after she throws them all in that she realizes what she’s done and regrets her actions. She completely bypassed her auxiliary function. She was devastated over the loss and acted without bothering to think of the consequences. When she’s afraid to go looking for the ghost, she asks him to dare her to do it. Although Clara typically feels more comfortable when there’s a plan in place, she doesn’t mind taking risks and is quite capable of acting in the moment when need be. She typically is more aware of the physical environment than the Doctor is, and will sometimes point things out that he overlooks, such as when she notices that the chimney doesn’t blow smoke. When the Doctor, along with two of his previous incarnations are sitting in a cell they assume they’re locked inside of, she ridicules them because not one of the three thought to just try the door.

Inferior Introverted Thinking [Ti]: It’s nearly impossible for Clara to detach from her emotions. When the Doctor leaves her on her own to make the choice about whether or not to kill the moon, she’s furious with him for leaving that kind of a decision up to her. While Lundvik argues that they need to do it in order to ensure the survival of humanity, Clara just cannot bring herself to kill a baby. Even though Lundvik is unwilling to take the risk of living with whatever the consequences may be if they allow the creature to live because humanity is her number one priority, but Clara refuses to make a call until they debate each and every possibility. What would happen if we were to kill the moon? No more tides, no more satellites… but what else? It’s hard for her to reach the most logical conclusion on her own. Clara isn’t great with computers and needs to contact a hotline just to turn on the Wi-Fi. Although the Doctor’s plan to lure the Blitzer to her school is rational, she reprimands him because it’s unsafe and doesn’t want to risk putting any of the children in harm’s way. Her flaws in logic (such as her certainty that Ashildr would’t let the raven get her), sometimes get her into trouble.

Enneagram: 2w1 1w2 7w6 Sx/So

Note: I strongly considered ESFJ for Clara, because there are definitely some instances that appear as though she’s using Si (not accepting the Twelfth Doctor, asserting that “good guys don’t have zombie creatures” based on what she’s read in stories, her attachment to the leaf, trying to perfect her mother’s soufflé over and over again, her freak out after seeing Earth’s entire life cycle, etc.) but I ultimately decided on ENFJ because of her bold insights and convictions with little to no evidence to support her conclusions and her optimism and fearlessness when it comes to the future, as well as her tendency to get a kick out of dangerous situations and quick thinking in the heat of the moment.

Quotes:

Clara: Look, she says that you told her that she wasn’t special. The Doctor: Rubbish. Clara: She says that’s what sent her off the rails. The Doctor: Pffff. [The Tardis has found a larger place than the previous supply cupboard, with glass panels in the door.] Clara: Doctor. I know, I know. But, you say something like that to somebody, it hurts. Especially if you’re somebody of her age, especially if you’re you. Doctor, it can affect her whole life. The Doctor: Bah.

Clara: Look, Courtney, you’re not going to be needing those because you’re not going to be doing any travelling. Doctor, will you just, just tell her? The Doctor: Tell her what? Clara: [through clenched teeth] Tell her that she’s special. The Doctor: Have you gone bananas?

The Doctor: Why do I keep you around? Clara: Because the alternative would be developing a conscience of your own.

Clara: Why are you being nice? The Doctor: Because it works on you.

Clara: Stop. Right, listen. This is a, this is a life. I mean, this must be the biggest life in the universe. Courtney: [on monitor] It’s not even been born. Lundvik: It is killing people. It is destroying the Earth. Clara: You cannot blame a baby for kicking.

Danny: Why do you do it? Why do you fly off in the box with him? The truth. Please, just this once. Clara: Because it’s amazing. Because I see wonders.

Clara: What were they like? The Doctor: What were who like? Clara: The others before me. Did they let you get away with this kind of thing? This school is in danger. The Doctor: Well, it’s lucky I’m here, then. Clara: From you. The Doctor: Me? Clara: You wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t an alien threat nearby. Your strategy for dealing with it involves endangering this school. The Doctor: You don’t know that. Clara: I don’t know anything because you haven’t told me anything, which means I wouldn’t approve, which means you are endangering this school.

Clara: So you’re, you’re leading the thing here? To a school? My, my school? The Doctor: My school? Oh, that is telling. This is the only suitably empty place in the area. I’ve set up a circle of time mines around the school. Chronodyne generators. Bit unstable. I switch them on, the Blitzer gets sucked into a big old time vortex, billions of years into the future. It’s dead easy. Tiny bit boring. I’ll need a book and a sandwich. Clara: And me. You’re not doing this alone.

Clara: You knew. You knew this was no relaxing break. You knew this was dangerous. The Doctor: I didn’t know. I certainly hoped. Clara: Okay, this. You see, this. This is why I’m leaving you. This. Because you lied. You lied to me, again. And now you’ve made me lie. You’ve made me your accomplice.

Clara: I am asking you for help. The Doctor: Listen, we went to dinner in Berlin in 1937, right? We didn’t nip out after pudding and kill Hitler. I’ve never killed Hitler. And you wouldn’t expect me to kill Hitler. The future is no more malleable than the past. Clara: Okay, don’t you do this to make some kind of point. The Doctor: Sorry. Well, actually, no, I’m not sorry. It’s time to take the stabilisers off your bike. It’s your moon, womankind. It’s your choice. Clara: And you’re just going to stand there? The Doctor: Absolutely not. [The Tardis arrives, and Courtney comes out.] Clara: Doctor?

Clara: If we let it live, what would happen if the moon wasn’t there? Lundvik: Listen, we haven’t got time for this. Clara: We’re discussing it! What would happen if the moon wasn’t there? Courtney: I have a physics book in my bag. There’s this thing on gravity? Lundvik: Super. Is there a word search? Clara: Okay, there would be no tides. But we’d survive that, right? They’ve knocked out the satellites. There’s no internet, no mobiles. I’d be fine with that. Lundvik: It’s not going to just stop being there, because inside the moon, Miss, is a gigantic creature forcing its way out. And when it does, which is going to be pretty damn soon, there are going to be huge chunks of the moon heading right for us, like whatever killed the dinosaurs, only ten thousand times bigger. Clara: But the moon isn’t made of rock and stone, is it? It’s made of eggshell. Lundvik: Oh, God. Okay, okay, fine. If, by some miracle, the shell isn’t too thick, or if it disperses, or if it goes into orbit, whatever, there’s still going to be a massive thing there, isn’t there, that just popped out. And what the hell do you imagine that is? Courtney: Loads of things lay eggs. Lundvik: It’s not a chicken. Courtney: I’m not saying it’s a chicken. I’m not completely stupid. Lundvik: It’s an exoparasite. Courtney: A what? Lundvik: Like a flea. Or a head louse. Clara: I’m going to have to be a lot more certain than that if I’m going to kill a baby. Lundvik: Oh, you want to talk about babies?. You’ve probably got babies down there now. You want to have babies? Clara: Well, yeah. Courtney: Mister Pink. Clara: Shush! Lundvik: Okay. You imagine you’ve got children down there on Earth now, right? Grandchildren maybe. You want that thing to get out? Kill them all? You want today to be the day life on Earth stopped because you couldn’t make an unfair decision? Listen, I don’t want to do this. All my life I’ve dreamed about coming here. But this is how it has to end. [Lundvik sets the trigger.]

Clara: I don’t know. I don’t know. If you didn’t do it for her, I mean. Do you know what? It was, it was cheap, it was pathetic. No, no, no. It was patronising. That was you patting us on the back, saying, you’re big enough to go to the shops by yourself now. Go on, toddle along. The Doctor: No, that was me allowing you to make a choice about your own future. That was me respecting you. Clara: Oh, my God, really? Was it? Yeah, well, respected is not how I feel. The Doctor: Right. Okay. Er. Clara: I nearly didn’t press that button. I nearly got it wrong. That was you, my friend, making me scared. Making me feel like a bloody idiot. The Doctor: Language. Clara: Oh, don’t you ever tell me to mind my language. Don’t you ever tell me to take the stabilisers off my bike. And don’t you dare lump me in with the rest of all the little humans that you think are so tiny and silly and predictable. You walk our Earth, Doctor, you breathe our air. You make us your friend, and that is your moon too. And you can damn well help us when we need it. The Doctor: I was helping. Clara: What, by clearing off? The Doctor: Yes. Clara: Yeah, well, clear off! Go on. You can clear off. Get back in your lonely, your lonely bloody Tardis and you don’t come back. The Doctor: Clara. Clara. Clara: You go away. Okay? You go a long way away.

The Doctor: You didn’t answer my question. Clara: What question? The Doctor: You don’t seem like a nanny. Clara: I was going to travel. I came to stay for a week before I left, and during that week The Doctor: She died, so you’re returning the favour. You’ve got a hundred and one places to see, and you haven’t been to any of them, have you? That’s why you keep the book. Clara: I keep the book because I’m still going. The Doctor: But you don’t run out on the people you care about. Wish I was more like that. You know, the thing about a time machine, you can run away all you like and still be home in time for tea, so what do you say? Anywhere. All of time and space, right outside those doors.

Clara: So, you and Professor Palmer, have you ever, you know? Emma: No. Clara: Why not? You do know how he feels about you, don’t you? You, of all people? Emma: I don’t know. People like me, sometimes we get our signals mixed up. We think people are feeling the way we want them to feel, you know, when they are special to us, when really there’s nothing there. Clara: Oh, this is there. Emma: How do you know? Clara: Because it’s obvious. It sticks out like a big chin.

Clara: Hello? [Something bangs and make her jump. Then the girl appears.] Clara: Hey. Are you okay? Are you lost? [The girl runs off. They find each other further on.] Clara: Are you all right? What are you doing? Merry: Hiding. Clara: Oh. Why? Merry: You don’t know me? Clara: Sorry. Actually not. Merry: So why did you follow me? Clara: To help. You looked lost. Merry: I don’t believe you. Clara: I’ve got no idea who you might be. I’ve never been here before. I’ve never been anywhere like here before. I just saw a little girl who looked like she needed help. Merry: Really? Clara: Really really. Merry: Can you help me? Clara: That’s why I’m still here.

Clara: So, what’s happening? Is someone trying to hurt you? Merry: No. I’m just scared. Clara: Of what? Merry: Getting it wrong. Clara: Okay. Can you pretend like I’m totally a space alien and explain?

Merry: I’m the vessel of our history. I know every chronicle, every poem, every legend, every song. Clara: Every single one? Blimey. I hated history. Merry: And now I have to sing a song in front of everyone. A special song. I have to sing it to a god. And I’m really scared. Clara: Everyone’s scared when they’re little. I used to be terrified of getting lost. Used to have nightmares about it. And then I got lost. Blackpool beach, Bank holiday Monday, about ten billion people. I was about six. My worst nightmare come true. Merry: What happened? Clara: The world ended. My heart broke. And then my mum found me. We had fish and chips, and she drove me home and she tucked me up and she told me a story.

Clara: Oh, I was scared lots of times, but never of being lost. So, this special song. What are you scared of, exactly? Merry: Getting it wrong. Making Grandfather angry. Clara: And do you think you’ll get it wrong? Because I don’t. I don’t think you’ll get it wrong. I think you, Merry Gejelh, will get it very, very right.

Clara: Is somebody going to do something? Excuse me, is somebody going to help her?

Clara: How can they just stand there and watch? The Doctor: Because this is sacred ground. Clara: And she’s a child. The Doctor: And he’s a god. Well, he is to them, anyway.

Clara: Well, I brought something for you. This. The most important leaf in human history. The most important leaf in human history. Clara: It’s full of stories, full of history. And full of a future that never got lived. Days that should have been that never were. Passed on to me. [An energy tendril reaches for the leaf.] Clara: This leaf isn’t just the past, it’s a whole future that never happened. There are billions and millions of unlived days for every day we live. An infinity. All the days that never came. And these are all my mum’s.

Clara: How did I do? Was I okay? The Doctor: This wasn’t a test, Clara. Clara: I know, but The Doctor: You were great, yeah. Clara: Really? The Doctor: Really.

The Doctor: Look into my eyes, Skaldak. Look into my eyes and tell me you’re capable of doing this. Huh? Can you do that? Dare you do that? Look into my eyes, Skaldak. Come on. Face to face. Skaldak: Well, Doctor. (The helmet tilts back to reveal the Martian lizard with its lidless eyes.) Skaldak: Which of us shall blink first? Clara: Why did you hesitate? Back there, in the dark. You were going to kill this man, remember? I begged you not to, and you listened. Why show compassion then, Skaldak, and not now? The Doctor’s right. Billions will die. Mothers, sons, fathers, daughters. Remember that last battle, Skaldak? Your daughter. You sang the songs. Skaldak: Of the Red Snows.

The Doctor: I need to know if you feel safe. I need to know you’re not afraid. Clara: Of? The Doctor: The future. Running away with a spaceman in a box. Anything could happen to you. Clara: That’s what I’m counting on. Push the button.

Clara: I’ve got this weird feeling it’s looking at me. It doesn’t like me.

Clara: Please tell me there’s a button you can press to fix this. The Doctor: Oh, yes. Big friendly button. Clara: You’re lying. The Doctor: Yep. Clara: To stop me freaking out? The Doctor: Is it working? Clara: Not so much.

Clara: Doctor, I’ve been thinking. The chimney The Doctor: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Way past that now. Yucky red parasite from the time of the dinosaurs pitches up in Victorian Yorkshire. Didn’t see that one coming. Clara: Yeah, but the chimney The Doctor: But what’s the connection to Mrs Gillyflower? Judgement will rain down on us all. An empty mill. Clara: A chimney that doesn’t blow smoke. The Doctor: Clever clogs. Clara: Missed me? The Doctor: Yeah, lots.

Clara: Prove you’re you. Tell me something only the Doctor knows. The Doctor: Clara, I suppose I’m the only one who knows how I feel about you right now. How funny you are. So funny. And pretty. And the truth is, I’m starting to like you in a way that is more than just [She hits him.] The Doctor: Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Yes! It’s me. That really hurt. How did you know that was him? Clara: Because even if that was true, which it is obviously not, I know you well enough to know that you would rather die than say it. Finish your stupid game.

Clara: Hang on. Three of you in one cell, and none of you thought to try the door?

Clara: I’m Clara. We haven’t really met yet. War Doctor: I look forward to it. Is there a problem? Clara: The Doctor, my, my Doctor, he’s always talking about the day he did it. The day he wiped out the Time Lords to stop the war. War Doctor: One would. Clara: You wouldn’t. Because you haven’t done it yet. It’s still in your future. War Doctor: You’re very sure of yourself. Clara: He regrets it. I see it in his eyes every day. He’d do anything to change it. War Doctor: Including saving all these people. How many worlds has his regret saved, do you think? Look over there. Humans and Zygons working together in peace. How did you know? Clara: Your eyes. You’re so much younger.

Clara: These are the people you’re going to burn? 10th The Doctor: There isn’t anything we can do. The Doctor: He’s right. There isn’t another way. There never was. Either I destroy my own people or let the universe burn. Clara: Look at you. The three of you. The warrior, the hero, and you. The Doctor: And what am I? Clara: Have you really forgotten? The Doctor: Yes. Maybe, yes. Clara: We’ve got enough warriors. Any old idiot can be a hero. The Doctor: Then what do I do? Clara: What you’ve always done. Be a doctor. You told me the name you chose was a promise. What was the promise? 10th The Doctor: Never cruel or cowardly. War Doctor: Never give up, never give in. 10th The Doctor: You’re not actually suggesting that we change our own personal history? The Doctor: We change history all the time. I’m suggesting far worse. War Doctor: What, exactly? The Doctor: Gentlemen, I have had four hundred years to think about this. I’ve changed my mind.

Clara: Need a moment alone with your painting? The Doctor: How did you know? Clara: Those big sad eyes. The Doctor: Ah. Clara: I always know. Oh, by the way, there was an old man looking for you. I think it was the curator.

Bonnie: [on screen] Oh, there’s no point turning over. There’s nothing better on the other side. I could erase your mind. Clara: Then why haven’t you? [Bonnie closes her eyes.] Clara: Having trouble? [Clara closes her eyes.] Clara: Let’s see what I can do. [Bonnie turns into a Zygon, falls down, then stands back up in human form again.] Clara: See, this thing works two ways, you know. Bonnie: I want those memories! [Clara sits on the sofa to read her newspaper.] Clara: Trouble is, you’re asking me for them, which means you can’t access them, right? Bonnie: I can make you tell me. Clara: No, you can’t, otherwise you would have done already. Bonnie: I can kill you. Clara: Go on, then. Bonnie: You think you’re calling my bluff. Clara: I am calling your bluff. You need me alive. Bonnie: Only as a source of information. Clara: Then you’d better start asking questions. Bonnie: You’d better not lie. Clara: You see, that’s the problem. I am a brilliant liar. How are you ever going to know?

Clara: What about your life? Just for once, after all this time, have you not earned the right to think about that? Sorry. Wrong thing to say. We shouldn’t be having an argument.

[Clara runs through the door, followed by the Doctor, who closes it on the bright yellow light outside.] Clara: I told you it’d work! The Doctor: It very nearly ate you for dinner. Clara: Oh, admit it. I totally saved your life. The Doctor: It wasn’t going to eat me. Clara: [laughs] I totally saved you from having to marry that giant sentient plant thing. That bit when I jumped over the side? That was amazing. [The Doctor snorts and grins.] Clara: Ha! I knew you were impressed.

Clara: There is no way you did this. Ashildr: So, what then? You think someone called him here? Set him up? Clara: Yes! OLD MAN: Mayor! Clara: Obviously. Which means one of your pet aliens out there is the real killer.

Clara: Rump? It’s er Rump, isn’t it? That man’s wife. She said something. Give it to me, tell me I can have it. What did she mean? Rump: Two ways to survive a Quantum Shade. The Shade’s master removes the chronolock, or you can give it to someone else. Clara: Give it? You can just Rump: No, you can’t just push it on someone. It’s not that simple. It has to be taken willingly. The death’s already locked in. You can pass it on, but you can’t cheat it. [Rump leaves. Clara turns and sees the Janus boy. She waves, and he leaves.] Rigsy: You’re serious? You actually expect me to give you my death sentence? Clara: Ssh! Go on. I’ve always wanted a tattoo. You know, something small, discreet. Rigsy: Clara. Cut it out. Clara: Weren’t you listening? I’m under the Mayor’s personal protection. And it’s absolute, apparently. Look, she controls the Raven, so I will never have to face it. This is clever. Rigsy: But this is putting you in danger. Clara: No, this is us talking the opposition into their own trap. This is Doctor 101. We’re buying time. We get all of the aliens on our side in the next half an hour, and then we reveal I’ve got the chronolock, not you, and boom! We buy ourselves more time to find the real killer. Rigsy: The Doctor would never let you do this. Clara: Doctor 102. Never tell anyone your actual plan. He’ll have a tantrum when he finds out. And then, when we confront Ashildr, she’ll want to take the chronolock off just to shut him up. What happens if you don’t go home tonight to Jen and Lucy, eh? If you never go home? You really want your little girl growing up without a father just because he wouldn’t take a risk? You trusted us to save you, so trust us. Come on. Rigsy: Okay. All right. Right, how do we do this, then?

Rigsy: Look, Clara, even if one of them knows something, they’re not going to come forward. The way they look at me. Clara: The way they look at you? Rigsy: What? [Outside Anah’s home. Clara knocks at the door of the Janus boy. He opens it then starts to closes it again.] Clara: Hey, wait. Everyone here is weird around us because of Rigsy. But not you. You look at me and the Doctor like you’re confused. Like you’re curious. ANAHSON: I don’t know what you mean. Clara: You do. You know Rigsy is innocent because you can look into his past and you can see it, can’t you? [Anah’s home] Clara: She dressed you as a boy to protect you, but really you’re a girl. You have the gift.

Rigsy: I don’t have it, I’m telling you. Clara does. [Clara shows Ashildr the back of her neck.] Ashildr: No. No, you didn’t. Clara: Go on, then. Take it off. The Doctor: Clara, you didn’t! [The Doctor turns Clara around and stares at the numbers in horror.] Ashildr: I had no idea she’d do something so stupid. I swear, I never meant for anyone to get hurt. Look, what were you thinking? Sacrificing yourself? Clara: I wasn’t sacrificing anything. It was strategy. Backup plan, to buy us more time. The Doctor: Who told you to give it to her? Clara: Nobody did. I did. Rump said The Doctor: What exactly did Rump say? Clara: He said the death is locked in. You can pass it on, but you [Clara realises her folly.]

The Doctor: Yes, it is, you can, and you will, or this street will be over. I’ll show you and all your funny little friends to the whole laughing world. I’ll bring UNIT, I’ll bring the Zygons. Give me a minute, I’ll bring the Daleks and the Cybermen. You will save Clara, and you will do it now, or I will rain hell on you for the rest of time. Clara: Doctor, stop talking like that. Ashildr: You can’t. The Doctor: I can do whatever the hell I like. You’ve read the stories. You know who I am. And in all of that time, did you ever hear anything about anyone who stopped me? Ashildr: I know the Doctor. The Doctor would never The Doctor: The Doctor is no longer here! You are stuck with me. And I will end you, and everything you love. Clara: Doctor, for God’s sake, will you stop? The Doctor: Now! Clara: I did this, do you hear me? I did this. This is my fault. The Doctor: I don’t care. Clara: Liar. You always care. Always have. Your reign of terror will end with the sight of the first crying child and you know it. The Doctor: No, I don’t. Clara: I do. Listen, if this is the last I ever see of you, please, not like this. Clara: (to Ashildr) Is there anything you can do? Ashildr: I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry, I- Clara: Time’s short. Yes or no? Ashildr: No. [The Doctor breathes heavily. Rigsy is trying not to cry.] Clara: Well, if Danny Pink can do it, so can I. The Doctor: Do what? Clara: Die right. Die like I mean it. Face the Raven. The Doctor: No. This, this isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Clara: Maybe this is what I wanted. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is why I kept running. Maybe this is why I kept taking all those stupid risks. Kept pushing it. The Doctor: This is my fault. Clara: This is my choice. The Doctor: I let you get reckless. Clara: Why? Why shouldn’t I be so reckless? You’re reckless all the bloody time. Why can’t I be like you? The Doctor: Clara, there’s nothing special about me. I am nothing, but I’m less breakable than you. I should have taken care of you. Clara: I never asked you to. The Doctor: You shouldn’t have to ask. [The Raven caws as it flies along the winding street, and the people scatter, terrified.] Rigsy: Clara, if I’d known, I’d- Clara: Don’t. Shut up. Rigsy: But I- Clara: Really, Rigsy, shut up. If you feel guilty about this, even for one minute, I- [They hear the Raven.] Clara: You. Now, you listen to me. You’re going to be alone now, and you’re very bad at that. You’re going to be furious and you’re going to be sad, but listen to me. Don’t let this change you. No, listen. Whatever happens next, wherever she is sending you, I know what you’re capable of. You don’t be a Warrior. Promise me. Be a Doctor. The Doctor: What’s the point of being a Doctor if I can’t cure you? Clara: Heal yourself. You have to. You can’t let this turn you into a monster. So, I’m not asking you for a promise, I’m giving you an order. You will not insult my memory. There will be no revenge. I will die, and no one else, here or anywhere, will suffer. The Doctor: What about me? Clara: If there was something I could do about that, I would. I guess we’re both just going to have to be brave. The Doctor: Clara. [They hug.] Clara: Everything you are about to say, I already know. Don’t do it now. We’ve already had enough bad timing.

Clara: This is as brave as I know how to be. I know it’s going to hurt you, but, please, be a little proud of me.

Clara Oswald (Doctor Who): ENFJ was originally published on MBTI Zone

[cimematicho]

The Lost Winchester- Chapter Two

Elizabeth’s last name is revealed, and she gets a clue of where to head to next in her journey.

Words-1,425

Warnings- alcohol, mentions of slaves and whipping

Back at the bunker, Dean popped open two beers, handing one to his brother. Castiel didn’t say much on the drive back, which worried them. It wasn’t that he was ignoring them, he just didn’t seem to be able to form the right sentences. Dean made the executive decision to forgo the hunt and head back home.

Sam took his beer gratefully, but didn’t drink from it. His eyes were focused on the angel, whose own eyes were darting around, as if looking for someone who wasn’t there.

“Cas?” He asked, hesitantly. “Think you can explain what’s going on now?”

Castiel took a deep breath. His hands were trembling and he quickly hid them in his lap. “I can try.”

Sam and Dean waited patiently for him to begin, but Castiel stayed quiet for a long time.

“I can’t seem to remember anything clearly.” He finally spoke up. “Everything is just glimpses and quick bursts, and then it’s gone.”

Sam, realizing they had to help their friend, pursed his lips. “You said something about a girl earlier. Do you remember that?”

Castiel winced as his head pounded in response, and his hands flew to his temples. “Elizabeth. Her name is Elizabeth.”

Dean nodded in encouragement. “Okay, Elizabeth. Last name?”

This time Castiel shouted as her face flashed in his mind, and he heard her quiet laughter. The brother’s jumped up, running to his side to make sure he was alright.

“Cas, man, what’s going on?” Dean asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Castiel squinted up at them, as if the light was making his head hurt even more, although he knew the two were not related. “Winchester. Her last name is Winchester.”

----

I beeped the unlock button on the key once I reached the street, looking around for whatever would turn out to be my car.

I turned towards the sound of a horn, noticing a 1956 Oldsmobile Super 88. I wondered how the hell I knew what type of car it was, but decided not to question it. There were already enough weird things happening. The car was white, with a baby blue detailing near the end, and I smiled as I hopped inside. I may not remember my own last name, but I sure as hell knew what a nice car looked like.

The car rolled to a stop as I pulled in front of the library. Just the sight of the old building made my head and heart pound, and I knew I was in the right direction. The place was made entirely out of brick, with an old chimney poking out its top. After locking my car, and approaching the building, I knew I had been here before.

The interior didn’t seem familiar at all, and I had the sense that it had changed quite a bit since I’d last been inside.

“Can I help you?”

My head snapped up at the sound of an old lady speaking to me. She peered down her glasses, smiling at me kindly, and I appreciated the help.

“Yes, I’m looking for…” My voice trailed off as I thought. There were so many questions I had, where would I even start? “Plantations.” The word popped out of my mouth, catching me by surprise. It would explain the tobacco fields, and the barn.

She nodded politely, coming from behind the desk. “Right this way, ma’am.”

I followed her to a back aisle of bookshelves, filled with historical novels. She pointed at a single shelf, holding no more than ten books.

“These are all of our non-fiction books about plantations in Massachusetts.” She frowned at something then. “Actually, a young man came in here yesterday asking about plantations, too.”

“Did he check any ones out?” I demanded, latching on to the small clue I’d been given. “What did he look like?”

The woman just chuckled at me. “Woah, slow down there! He had longer light brown hair. Pretty eyes, like a honey color.” She paused, pulling a book off the shelf. “He spent a couple hours with this one.”

I took it from her, reading the cover. ‘The Famous Crawford Plantation.’ I nearly dropped the book at the sudden sting in my head, wincing visibly.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” The woman asked, placing a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

“I’m okay, thank you. Just a migraine.” I smiled politely at her. She was being so kind to me, when I had done nothing for her.

“Alrighty, well, if you need anything, just give me a hollar.” She looked me over again, making sure I was okay to stand before she left the aisle.

I instantly sat down with the book, still slightly dizzy. Preparing myself for the worse, I flipped through the book. There were sketches of different places on the plantation, and with each one I saw, my head pounded more. There was the tobacco field I had seen before, and even the wooden barn. The first chapter detailed where everything was located on the plantation, and what the inside of the house looked like. It all looked so familiar. Maybe I had visited?

The next chapter sent a shiver down my spine. It started to get into why the Crawford Plantation was so famous. The text explained that the barn had a strange residue on one of the walls, almost like burn marks. No matter how many owners had tried to paint over it, the marks would always seep through. Just as the paragraph ended, the page was torn in half. The bottom was missing, and I could faintly see the outline of a photograph. They must have included a picture of the barn that someone didn’t want me to see. Half of the caption was also missing, but I could make out a year when the photo had been taken- 2013.

I pulled out my phone to check the date, reading that it was 2017. That didn’t seem like the right year at all to me, but then again, nothing seemed right. If the date was correct, then the markings should still be there today. It was obvious that the man who had been there yesterday didn’t want me to see the inside of that barn, which only made me want to see it more.

Just to make sure I wasn’t missing any other clues, I flipped to the next chapter, skimming the pages, but when I saw the title, my blood ran cold.

‘The Lost Girl’

Why did that seem so familiar? I shook my head to attempt to clear it before starting to read.

“The Crawford Plantation had many people living on the land. Most of them were slaves, who worked the fields. Inside the main house, however, the Crawfords had an adopted daughter.  It is said that the Crawfords had heard the baby's cries, and found her in the surrounding forest. Elizabeth was raised as their own, and no one questioned the orphan.

“The Crawford’s were strict Puritans, fully believing that a woman should save herself for marriage. Elizabeth was set to be married to an unknown man from another wealthy family, when she was caught slipping away at night with the stable boy, and other hired help.

“Her punishment was no less than any slaves would have been at the time, and she was brutally whipped in the square the next day. It’s been said that some of the help had tried to intervene, but were then punished themselves.

“These whippings are important in many theories of Elizabeth Crawford’s disappearance. A week later, her and two of the help completely vanished in the middle of the night, leaving no trace of where they could have gone. The Crawford’s were an extremely wealthy family, and hired many private investigators and slaves to canvas the surrounding forests and fields, but no clues were ever found. The most popular theory is that they ran away to escape her parent’s brutality.

“The only evidence that was collected are the strange burn marks in the stables, that to this day have not ever been explained.”

I couldn’t breathe. There was no way I was related to this unsolved missing persons case. It’s nearly 400 years later! I turned the page, hoping to find out that this whole thing was an elaborate hoax, but instead my blood ran cold.

The next page had a picture of an old portrait, painted in the 1600s. No matter how much I wanted to deny it, or how much I wished this all was some dream, there was no other explanation… because the girl in the painting looked exactly like me.

A/N- sorry this took so long to get out, life got kinda busy