twohxarts-blog

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thegirlfromnapoli:

@twohxarts

   “I was having a wonderful time before YOU showed up.”

           “Please, I’m the life and soul of he party.”

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         “Now you’re just being rude, dearie. That won’t do at all.”

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in other news find me @fcrthright

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That little ‘Send something nice’ comment that pops up when you hit the reply button sometimes is worrying me a bit. I think…somebody…might have infiltrated the system…

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“No reason.” Just because she can, really. That and she enjoys getting him like this - flustered. Uncertain.

“Problem?”

“Um.”

It’s all he says at first when it’s over, unsure of how to react to the affection. Still unsure how to react to her in general. 

“Uh, what,” he fidgets, “what was that for?”

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owedbetter:

                  ❝                           THE ONLY ONE    who’s ever thought I was    perfect    is    you    so–    …   that’s a bit    telling,   innit ?      ❞

STEADY LIFT OF A BROW,  it’s a tease.  

They’re both at stalemate   –   this    CREATURE    before her cannot be killed while she,  herself,  is    already dead   (  on   stolen   time !  )   –   and there is little more than either of them could do but banter until one of them gets bored.  And Missy has never been one to strike her as the patient sort.  

The game continues;    barely concealed amusement    dances in the light of these dark,  warm eyes.

                                   ❝      Asking would imply I care–  which I   don’t.   But what the hell;   WHAT ?   What could we    possibly    have in common that’s even    worth    mentioning ?      ❞

     Missy’s laughter is loud, sudden and if one was all together honest, mocking. Oh, poor little love. She still hasn’t REALISED, has she?  Missy sees Clara as nothing but a pawn - an unimportant piece in her age-old game of chess with the Doctor.

    “Y’know, anyone’d think you enjoyed bein’ used. That’s all you were perfect for in my eyes, dearie. Bein’ USED as a means t’drive the Doctor to extremes. And I won, Clara. He was willin’ to KILL, in the end. T’do somethin’ that goes against EVERY FIBRE in his being....for you.”  Missy speaks in an almost sing-song voice. Like she’s proud of what she’s done ( which of course, she is. )  

        “As for how we’re SIMILAR, well. You seem t’be as rubbish at stayin’ dead as I am.”

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dannybrax:

[ text ] She’s never too busy for me. [ text ] Got her wrapped around my little finger. [ text ] ….best not to tell her I said that if you ever meet her. [ text ] I’ll allow you to give me an 11. I know you’re dying to.

{ text } Something like that, yeah. Give or take a few. { text } You should introduce us. I’m sure she’d love me. { text } Plus it saves the whole awkward ‘who are you’ thing when she finds me in the TARDIS.

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dannybrax:

[ text ] Grey hair is a sign of ageing. [ text ] Ageing is bad. [ text ] Very bad. [ text ] I’d still rate me a solid 11/10 but that’s not the point. [ text ] And a picture of ice cream isn’t helping my cause. [ text ] I’ll get the wife to bring me some. [ text ] Serious question; out of 10, how would you rate my looks?

{ text } Are you sure she isn’t busy too? { text } As for your looks. Well. { text } Out of 10 is a bit limiting. Does it have to be between 0 and 10?

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@dannybrax from x

{ text } ..... Grey hair’s not necessarily bad   { text } A lot of women like it. { text } I’d bring you ice cream but I’m busy. { mms ) photo

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owedbetter:

            ❝      AND  SOME  PEOPLE SAY  I don’t have  flaws.  More’s the pity,  really.                            You can’t honestly expect me to believe you summoned me all the way    here    just for a   chat.      ❞

     “Some would say you thinkin’ you’re perfect is our biggest flaw, dearie.                                                        Aren’t y’gonna ask me?”

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      “Wanna know a secret?”

@twohxarts

       ❝ Hey MISSY, wanna go to Skaro? ❞

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crxella:

          ❛ well, it could most certainly do with a MAKEOVER, darling. ❜

                              a harsh brow rose. the decor was rather UNAPPEALING to the monochromatic haired woman. however, if this truly was as the woman before her said then nothing could stop her ( them ). of course she’d need PROOF, && not simply a quaint parlor trick. the designer wanted concrete evidence that this ship, if that’s truthfully what it was, traveled in time && space. for if it was, the FRIENDSHIP struck between the two had grown monumentally more BENEFICIAL. && with a few paces forward, cruella came to a stop just before ( what appeared to be ) the control center, glacial optics never once leaving that of the woman whom claimed such miraculous notions.

          ❛ && how do i TRUST you? ❜

                              not that she ever would trust her. she simply was in need of knowing that this was indeed going to be of benefit to her. && also that missy wasn’t going to TRY && fool her, because that would be a DANGEROUS mistake to make, no matter whom you were.

"TRUST ME? I thought y’were smarter thank that, Cruella. Y’can’t trust anyone.” Missy pulls a lever or two and he machine bursts into life.  Whirring and buzzing away as it’s pilot moves around it’s console. 

“As for MAKEOVERS, I like it the way it is. For now.” It was always subject to change. Always catered towards what she needed most. For now, tea gardens suit her best. 

“Lemme guess, ya don’t believe it’s possible. Yet y’believe so easily in magic.” Missy assumes, shaking her head. It’s a common thing amongst humans - deeming anything they can’t see or do themselves as impossible. “This isn’t magic - it’s science. Sure, you humans don’t get the tech any time soon but-- y’know. My kind were more advanced.” More advanced? That was putting it politely. 

“Be a dear and give me a place and a time.”

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thegirlfromnapoli:

   “Oh please no,” Camilla pleas. But Missy wasn’t going to budge. So Camilla groans inwardly and pushes the door open to peek outside. 

  The London air was still crisp–that was the only thing that hadn’t changed. Everything else was unfamiliar. “Is this the 20th century? I mean–I wasn’t born here, so I don’t know shit about the history of London. But…everyone looks fancy.” 

  “This is going to be my death.” 

Missy rolls her eyes again, tutting as she pulls a lever or two before heading over to where Camilla is stood to glance out. The fact the other thinks this is the twentieth century makes her laugh and even though it’s not genuine, it seems that way.

“This isn’t th’nineteenth century, no. You’re in the fifteenth century and also my way.”

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My muse wakes up from a horrible nightmare, how does yours comfort mine?

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crxella:

                              the monochromatic haired woman remained STOIC in her movements, allowing the ( mad ) woman to show her exactly what on earth she was talking of. however, it was upon the glimpse of the GARDENS that appeared to be located within the pillar missy had been speaking of that her curiosity piqued. && stilleto’d footsteps found themselves stepping closer, a HARSH brow rising upon entering into somewhere that she found simply IMPOSSIBLE. it shouldn’t exist, not in such a location, within such a location. it had to be TRICK. an overly elaborate trick, nonetheless, but this most certainly wasn’t REAL. it couldn’t be.

                              && with the marginal hint of SURPRISE falling from her features as soon as it had etched across them, she turned upon her heel, facing the woman whom’s ECCENTRICITY rivaled even that of her own.

          ❛ && where exactly are we? ❜

Missy keeps an eye on Cruella from the fountain, gauging her reaction. There’s none of the ‘bigger on the inside’ nonsense that most people seem to give yet, which surprises even Missy. She occupies herself with pushing a few buttons that hide under the mass of flowers. The water drains from the fountain, the pillar in the center rotating as it widens a little. When it stops, the controls move up slowly from the base of the now-dry fountain and she fiddles  with them a little. The door to the TARDIS shuts and Missy turns back to Cruella.

   “We are in my ship. It’s called a TARDIS. Can go anywhere and     anywhen y’like.” She drawls, moving to the other side of the      console. It’s as ornate and detailed as you’d expect from her.

                           “Comes in handy when you’re the queen of evil.”

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She’s proud of being a villain, to break hearts, to split souls and to leave wounds wherever her mad eyes settle on.

Maram Rimawi (via wnq-writers)

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"How'd you manage t'get off Skaro anyway?"

Now, that’d be telling, wouldn’t it? Missy grins widely at him. Surely he knows her well enough to know she never stays dead.

“Spoilers, dearie. Spoilers.”