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weshallc · 3 years

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BERNS NIGHT (Revisited)

Call the Midwife AU Crown Jewels fic (this one actually has Bernie in! She must have been in panto or something in January missed a few chapters)

CHAPTER FOUR: There In Thy Scanty Mantle Clad.

“There, in Thy Scanty Mantle Clad, Thy Snawie Bosom Sunward Spread.” To a Mountain Daisy by Robert Burns 1786

"I Hear Your Footsteps in the Streets, it Won't Be Long Until We Meet. It's Obvious." Oblivious by Aztec Camera 1983

“Ouch, be careful!”

“Well stand still, Paddy,” Trixie scolded, “and I won’t accidentally prick you.”

“Is this really necessary?” whined the publican, not for the first time that hour.

“You want it the right length, don’t you?” admonished the determined dressmaker.

“That’s too short.” Paddy grumbled, swaying unsteadily on the rickety foot stool.

“No, it’s not.”

Patsy interrupted the squabbling confirming the kilt should hang from the top of the hip and finish at the top of the knee.

“This one is too high.” Paddy fiddled with the waistband.

“No, it’s not! It sits at the navel.” Getting up from her knees, Trixie playfully poked Paddy in the belly button.

The temporary male model wasn’t amused, and Delia felt some sympathy. “Right Doc, take it off now, so Chummy can alter it.”

Paddy hopped off the footstool, the green and blue checked woollen garment swaying around his thighs. He grabbed his jeans and headed out of Patsy’s studio towards the downstairs loo. Patsy, Delia and Trixie didn’t wait until he had closed the door behind him before they burst into giggles.

Saturday 25th January 2020

Bernie wouldn’t want anyone to accuse her of being ungrateful, but she would have much rather spent her birthday at work. To be back in Poplar-on-Tweaven working behind the bar with Paddy rather than traipsing around Newcastle city centre with Trixie.

Saturday’s were usually fun at the Crown. Sundays you could always predict to be busy, due to the temptation of Violet’s Sunday lunches and the let’s have a nice day in the country crowd. Saturday’s were more unpredictable a lot depending on whether there was a match on. The football crowd had made Bernie nervous at first, but she had taken her lead from Val, who seemed to know the right mix between flirting and being one of the lads. She even surprised herself with her knowledge of the offside-rule and recognising a few players when they came in during the off-season.

“So, what about this one?” Trixie’s irritated voice broke through Bernie’s wistfulness. They were standing in Fenwick’s department store. Her friend was holding up a black mini dress bearing a large faint gold and red criss-cross pattern.

“Isn’t it a bit tartanie?” Bernie screwed up her nose.

Trixie tried very hard not to give anything away. “What’s wrong with tartan, your Scottish, don’t you just love tartan?”

Bernie bit her lip and tried to keep a level of calmness in her voice, “I am not that kinda Scottish.”

Trixie clanged the hanger back onto the rail in frustration. Bernie felt a twinge of guilt for exasperating her well-meaning friend.

“I will probably just wear my good jeans and a sparkly top, Trixie.” Bernie tried to reassure, with little success.

“But, Paddy is taking you out somewhere nice tonight, surely you want to look the part?”

Bernie took a deep breath, “The part?...the part of Paddy’s date! I am thinking jeans and a nice wee top will do just fine, Trixie.”

It was several hours later, Bernie was looking at herself in the oak Cheval mirror in the corner of her bedroom. The little black dress with the red and gold criss-crosses did look quite nice on and it did have pockets, so that was a bonus. She heaved up her 40 denier black tights one last time. Why did they never make the small, small enough? She smiled, knowing if Chummy were in the room she would ask why they didn’t make extra large, extra enough.

A frown reflected back at her as she fiddled with her hair. Trixie had insisted on styling it with a mountain of product she had brought back from Boots. As a result, it now seemed to flick out in all directions. The would-be stylist had been very pleased with the finished article, and Bernie had smiled and made positive noises. She really wanted to put a brush through it and tie it back in a scrunchie like she did most days. Trixie’s sixth sense clicked in and she growled, “Leave it.”

They set out, tottering the short distance from Bernie’s cottage to the Crown Inn. Arm-in-arm, more for stability than out of friendship. Trixie in nine months of living just outside of Poplar had still not mastered walking on cobbles in heels. Bernie more used to ankle boots and trainers had let Trixie talk her into buying a pair of black below-the-knee boots in the January sales. Until today, the labels hadn’t been removed. She was convinced the young saleswoman and her friend had been in collusion. Eventually the overwhelming smell of leather, shoe polish and sweaty feet on an empty stomach had rendered the usually stubborn Bernie vulnerable. Well-honed sales techniques and Trixie’s promise of a Greggs’ vegan sausage roll to offset the purchase of leather eventually triumphed. These boots were definitely not made for walking, Bernie decided. She was however glad of the extra fabric as the north wind whistled around her shorter than usual hem line.

As if sensing her friend's awkwardness, Trixie squeezed her arm a little more tightly. “You look amazing, just don’t scuff those killer, fuck-me boots on the cobbles.”

This warning unsurprisingly had the opposite effect than intended, as Bernie stuttered to an abrupt halt and dropped her friend's arm.

“What?” Bernie shrieked in horror. Trixie grabbed back hold of her stabilizer and dragged her along, laughing so infectiously that Bernie couldn’t help but succumb.

“Why are you so tarted up anyway for a night in the Crown?”

“It’s your birthday and I thought you would be having a drink before heading off with Paddy. Just because it is a country pub doesn’t mean everyone has to always wear wellies and a jumper with a hole in it.”

Bernie’s mock indignation at Trixie’s jibe resulted in a snort as she tried to hold in a laugh. They were still sniggering as Trixie lunged forward and steadied herself by slapping her hand heavily against the inn’s bay window. She pulled herself up and then slapped her hand against the window one more time. Bernie, who was still giggling, just shrugged at her friend's clumsy behaviour.

“Bit slippy there, have to tell Paddy about that.” Trixie straightened up and smiled nervously.

“OK.” Bernie nodded somewhat bemused as she pushed open the large wooden doors of the old inn.

Bernie later couldn’t recall if it was her eyes that first alerted her that something was different; the darkness giving the game away. Or it could have been her ears as they picked up the deep drone of the bagpipes. Maybe it was neither. Her skin tingling with goosebumps was more than likely the first sign that all was not as it should be.

After that initial physical reaction, her mind seemed to give up trying to make any sense of anything. It all became a blur. She remembered Trixie pushing her in the back and into the bar and placing something around her shoulders. There had definitely been cheering and then a very tuneless rendition of Happy Birthday accompanied by the bagpipes and a small band.

The pipes - bashful Kevin and his wee dog. At first she had thought Paddy or somebody had bought her a pet for her birthday. The poor wee thing was used to sitting and looking cute outside the town hall. Raising a paw every time someone dropped a coin in Kev’s mug. The animal had become a little overwhelmed by the commotion and sheer volume of people. Realizing that the lady who had just come through the door must be somehow responsible for the change in ambience; he could not resist jumping up at the new arrival with great enthusiasm. His owner was horrified, but unsure what was more important; to reprimand his charge or keep playing. Fortunately, the situation was resolved when a large pair of hands gently scooped up the tiny mongrel and calmed him down by whispering in his ear and letting him lick his face.

Bernie remembered Violet telling Reggie to take the excited guest through the back for a biscuit. The commotion had given Bernie time to take it all in, the low lighting, the table centres made up of thistles and blue and purple hyacinths, each with a thick white candle, flames dancing a jig on every table. The black, royal blue and red tartan tablecloths and a larger trestle table covered with a different checked pattern, a lighter blue and green with gold.

Bernie wasn’t given long to take it all in, as she was overwhelmed by hugs and kisses. Mostly from people she knew like the Noakes’, Fred, Jane, Phyllis and Julia along with a few she didn’t know, which was a bit disconcerting. Along with the displays of affection, cards and packages that were also pressed into her. Finding it very difficult to accept all the hugs from her friends and free herself from those who weren’t, Bernie found it impossible to balance all the gifts too. Fortunately Trixie had been prepared for this and took on the role of a lady-in-waiting, as if Bernie had suddenly been crowned the Princess of Poplar. The village's newest resident relished her role as best friend, relieving Bernie of her burdens as swiftly as she received them. Trixie may have had a colourful life, but she did like to be of use.

It was Val who finally rescued her from the wall of wellwishers. Taking Bernie by the hand, she took her behind the bar and up the stairs to the living accommodation. “Are you ready for your present?”

Exasperated by the recent unexpected events and not knowing what to expect next, Bernie just shrugged her shoulders. Secretly she was enjoying the calm of the Turner flat and not being the centre of attention. Val gave her a quick squeeze and told her, “Happy birthday, chick.” Opening the door to Paddy’s living room she added winking,

“You’re welcome.”

#call the midwife #berns night revisited #my grumpy girl is back

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 4 years

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The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 10

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle. It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes. With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays. Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3 | Masterlist

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Monday

With a grunt of frustration Malcolm shut off the radio, plunging the kitchen into silence. Pete was due any minute, and it was only now occurring to him that he should have mentioned the dinner to Rose, and found out what he was and wasn’t permitted to say; while Clara obviously knew the truth, Rose had given no indication of if she wanted her family to know.

This can’t end well.

Draining his wine glass in one go he refilled it, before bracing himself against the countertop and bowing his head. Everything had gone spectacularly pear-shaped after the reading of Wallace’s will, and all he wanted was for his life to return to normal. Things were uncomfortable now, with Rose, and he didn’t know how they would find their way back- or if such a thing was even possible.

The doorbell rang just as the grandfather clock in the hall chimed off the start of the hour, and he had to give a reluctant grin at the man’s punctuality. Drying his hands he headed for the door, putting on a brave face before swinging it open.

“Pete! Good to see you, come on in,” he invited.

Showtime.

Keeping one eye on the clock over the mantle Rose aggressively fluffed her throw pillows, straightening up her living area just to keep moving. In typical Clara fashion her friend was now officially thirty minutes late, and Rose’s poor nerves were suffering under the strain.

She’d thought, perhaps rather naïvely, that by making the choice of whether or not to move forward things would somewhat settle down, that her worries would evaporate with a plan in place. If anything they’d gotten worse, as she faced spending the next five years of her life married to a man who didn’t love her. Oh, Malcolm cared, certainly, but he didn’t love her- not the way she loved him.

She was, she’d been disgruntled to realize, in love with him.

“Oh, fuck you,” she scowled at the innocent pen that had rolled from her organizer onto the floor. “Seriously?”

The expected knock finally came, and slamming the pen back onto the open organizer in the crease to keep it from escaping again, she stalked towards the door.

“Took you long enough,” she snapped, swinging it open to find Clara looking equally annoyed.

“Oh fuck off,” her friend shot back, pushing past her to the kitchen, a large takeaway bag in hand. “It’s raining cats and dogs out there. Traffic’s a nightmare.”

Throwing the deadbolt Rose followed her, slightly chastened. “Sorry. Any trouble?”

Clara rolled her eyes, dumping her things on the countertop. “Not really. Just slow. Now, d’you want to eat and plan, or take a few minutes?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Rose watched her pull two large salads out of the bag, raising an eyebrow when nothing else appeared. “I thought you were bringing the food?”

“I did.” Clara opened the drawer to fetch two forks. “Water?”

“Where’s the rest of it?” Rose filled the two waiting glasses from her filtered pitcher, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t tell me you consider that dinner.”

Kicking off her shoes, Clara settled onto her usual spot on the couch, salad balanced on one knee, tablet on the other. “You’re getting married in two weeks. There’s only so much you can do, but you might as well try to get down at least to the next size, though I suppose it depends on what style you want.”

“Style?” Rose joined her, peeling off the lid of the salad and frowning even more. “What’s this, then?”

“A salad, duh.”

She poked at it half-heartedly. “It’s just greens.”

“There’s carrots! Cucumber.”

“No dressing?”

“Balsamic vinaigrette.”

Rose crinkled her nose. “Am I being punished?”

Stretching out her leg Clara nudged her thigh with her toe. “No, but you want to look as good as possible on your wedding day, don’t you? Though picking your dress style may help with that. I made us some appointments for tomorrow at lunch so you can start trying things on, though I fear your options’ll be limited.”

“I’ve already got a dress,” she stabbed a forkful of lettuce. “Looks good as I am, if I say so myself.”

“What?”

Rose looked up to find Clara staring at her, fork halfway to her mouth, forgotten.

“What?”

“What d’you mean, you’ve already got a dress?” her friend repeated, lowering the fork. “When?”

She swallowed, took a sip of her water, and said, “We left the office early today, so I went to Harrod’s to just poke around. Third dress I tried looked good, was reasonably priced, so I got it.”

“You… you bought your wedding dress? Alone? From Harrod’s?”

“Yes.”

Clara’s face fell, eyes welling, and Rose sighed.

“I didn’t mean to leave you out, I just went to look, but… I dunno, it just seemed right.” She hesitated. “D’you… want to see it?”

Slowly, her friend nodded. “And you in it, please. As Maid of Honor- thanks for the flowers by the way, they were gorgeous- it’s my right to have final say over your wedding dress.”

“Sure,” Rose agreed easily, though she had no intention of changing the dress. “I’ll be right back.”

On her way past to her bedroom she paused, bending down to kiss the top of her friend’s head.

How much drama can this wedding cause?

Beer clutched tightly in one hand, Malcolm gave the steaks more attention than they needed as they sizzled on the stovetop in a frying pan. His intention had been to do them on the grill, but the downpour had effectively nixed that idea, leaving the two men in his kitchen in silence.

He’d known Pete Tyler for going on fifteen years now, been in his company a thousand times, and yet none had been so awkward and painful, not even their first conversation (not Malcolm’s strong suit). Since Pete had asked for this dinner Malcolm was content to let him start the conversation, though so far, that hadn’t happened past general small talk.

It wasn’t until they sat down to eat that Pete finally sighed and said, “Could you please not be so weird? I’m not here to threaten you or anything.”

“I know that,” Malcolm said defensively, though he wasn’t quite convinced. “I mean- Why are you here?”

“Why are you marrying my daughter?” He took a large bite of steak, and groaned. “Bloody hell that’s excellent.”

“Thanks.”

Pete finished chewing, then raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Because… I asked and she said yes,” he said carefully, poking at the mashed potatoes regretfully; his appetite had vanished at the question. “That’s generally how it works, to my understanding.”

“That’s not exactly convincing,” Pete pointed out. “Or reassuring.”

“Reassuring?”

The other man sighed, crossing his arms on the table and leaning forward. “That this wedding is happening for the right reasons.”

Shit. How can he know? “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Honestly? Do you want to know what I think?”

Malcolm didn’t, but he nodded anyway. “Of course.”

“I know you’re in love with my daughter.”

It took effort not to react to that. Pete was more perceptive than Malcolm gave him credit for, but given that he was engaged to Rose and she hadn’t shared the full story with her parents it shouldn’t be a surprise, and he should absolutely not be feeling defensive in anyway. “Yes,” was all he said, when it became clear the other man was waiting for a response, and he was horrified at the melancholy, wistful tone in his voice.

“I’ve been watching you. Both of you. For a long time now. I see how you look at each other. To be perfectly frank I think I’ve seen this writing on the wall since I realized Rose had stopped looking for a real job. And yet, nothing has changed. You seem no different from six months ago, or two or five years ago, which can only mean one of two things – you’ve been involved with my daughter for a very long time without telling me, or nothing has changed. My suspicion is the second, but neither explains why you’re getting married now, all of sudden, especially if she’s not pregnant. So help me understand.”

Sitting at his own kitchen table, untouched steak cooling on the plate in front of him, Malcolm had never felt more idiotic or… or transparent. Has he really known all this time how I felt? For a fleeting moment he was certain his hours were numbered, that the man would want him dead for his feelings towards Rose, but then he realized that if Pete had known for years, and never done or said anything to discourage the ‘relationship’ or separate them… he couldn’t possibly approve, could he?

“I see how happy you make my daughter,” Pete continued, unaware of the war ripping Malcolm apart inside, “and how happy she makes you. I’ve known you for fifteen years, seen you with countless women, and I’ve never seen you as happy as you are with her. And yet if you’re hiding a romantic relationship you both deserve fucking Oscars, because it’s impossible to tell. You’ve got the yearning looks down pat.”

Malcolm took a long pull off his beer, mind racing. It seemed they’d been caught out, and he didn’t know which would be worse – lying to Pete, or betraying Rose’s secret. And then he registered something Pete has said – or at least implied.

“Are you saying…” He swallowed, heart thumping painfully in his chest with something akin to hope. “Are you saying she… Rose feels…”

And Pete started to laugh.

Smoothing the dress over her thighs Rose examined her reflection, just as happy with her choice as she had been earlier that day in the Harrod’s dress department. While it wasn’t a traditional bridal gown, it was still elegant and beautiful and right.

She’d chosen a brocade sheath-style cocktail dress, in a beautiful shade of champagne with golden embroidery. It hugged every curve, though not quite skin-tight, and the square neckline helped keep it on the right side of decent. Wedge sandals in the same shade as the dress had convinced her it was fate, and she felt classy, elegant, and mature. Normally she would have preferred a stiletto, which might have gone with the outfit a bit better, but with the ceremony being outside in the garden, she didn’t want to have to worry about sinking into the grass.

The last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself.

The other few dresses she had tried on had been nice enough, perhaps more her usual style, but she had suspected that standing next to Malcolm and his salt-and-pepper hair in them would make her look more like a child bride or a trophy wife than she was comfortable with.

“Right, I’m coming out,” she called, stepping carefully through her apartment back to where Clara was waiting impatiently on the couch.

“What do you think?” she asked uncertainly when her friend said nothing, merely stared at her with an open mouth, salad forgotten on the coffee table.

Slowly Clara stood, coming around the couch with her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “You look beautiful,” she whispered, and Rose nearly sagged in relief.

“You really think so?”

A beaming smile spread across Clara’s face as she began to nod. “Absolutely stunning! Like a beautiful bride. Albeit a divorcee going to the courthouse, but still, lovely. Really. It’s perfect.”

Rose grinned happily, throwing her arms around her friend. “I’m so glad you think so. I hadn’t been meaning to buy, I just wanted to start getting ideas, but… it just called to me.”

“Well, I’m glad you picked up the phone,” Clara joked, pulling back and wiping at her eyes. “Wow. Okay, you’re forgiven.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, your mum may not be so easy to convince.”

The blood drained from Rose’s face as her stomach plummeted. “Oh, shit.”

“What’s so funny?” Malcolm asked defensively, when the other man continued to laugh. “Stop it!”

“Well, for one, I think you proved there’s more to this wedding than your relationship,” Pete sighed, still smiling as he calmed down. “And second, you’re so far bloody gone, mate.”

Malcolm huffed, unable to dispute either charge but not wanting to give the other man the satisfaction of admitting he was right. “It’s not funny.”

“It is, actually.” The man let out another chuckle. “And now I’m extremely curious as to not only your reasons for proposing to my daughter, but why she said yes if you don’t even know how the other feels. Also, Jacks owes me twenty quid, she didn’t think you felt that way.”

With that Malcolm gave up, groaning and letting his head thunk forward onto the table.

“You have no idea how fucked up this all is.”

And, against his better judgement, Malcolm told him.

#bbatcfic #ficandchips #Doctor Who #doctorroseprompts #Human!12xRose #Human!Twelfth Doctor #Rose Tyler #Human AU #AU #The Nuptial Necessity

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sailorplanet1997 · 2 years

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i have this feeling Tinkerbell is either too blind to see it or is too stubborn with what Vidia does for her

i have to admit Vidia was no angel in the 1st movie, she talked crap about Tinkerbell and threated her with the sprinting thistles and blamed Tinkerbell for it when Vidia was just that much involved in the mess like Tinkerbell was that nearly ruined spring

but once she was a lot more in the picture in the 3rd movie she did the right thing, not just for Tinkerbell but also for others (sure she mocked about Tink’s talent like she used to in the 1st movie but i forgived her for it since it was said right in Tinkerbell’s face and NOT behind Tinkerbell’s back)

first of all she was looking out for Tinkerbell and instead of causing troubles, she maked sure Tinkerbell stayed OUT of troubles and NOT go into mischief when Vidia decided to follow after her (it sort of worked for a bit from under the car and about to go on the way back to fairy camp since she kept Tink safe from humans the whole times)

Vidia was with Tinkerbell the whole times when you expected her to abandone Tinkerbell which she never ever did in this movie (even when Tinkerbell made bad choices despites Tinkerbell not listening to Vidia and pretend like Vidia don’t exist)

once Vidia slammed the door on Tinkerbell to teach her a lesson, she TRIED to get Tinkerbell out when she heard Lizzy from far away (i grow to understand why Vidia slammed the door on her! can you imagine people not taking you seriously and pretend like you don’t exist or something so you decide to do something about it because you don’t have other choices so it scares them a bit just to teach them a lesson and learns from it with the mistakes, i’d get pissed too if someone ignores me completely)

Vidia called the others for help once she realized she can’t befree Tinkerbell on her own now anymore (and she literally risked everything to lead Tink’s friends to Tinkerbell and didn’t seem to give up, infact it became the opposite of it)

Vidia literally defended Tinkerbell when the others maked fun of Tinkerbell and mocked about her without knowing the truth Vidia atleast opened her mouth about the situation and actually stood up for Tinkerbell, having a secret guilt that was eating her alive and told them all the truth which shocked them all (even now i was surprised Vidia didn’t joined with the group with the company about how Tinkerbell is having anger issues we all know they weren’t on friendly terms at that time, i guess at the end of it all she DOES cares for Tinkerbell, if maybe in poor ways since she have poor ways of showing it besides she doesn’t care that much about the mess, i mean can you imagine her knowing how Tinkerbell is gonna respond if she sees the group making fun of her)

once she arrived in the room where 2 humans and Tink was in she couldn’t stand watching how Tinkerbell suffers even more and decided to intervene, she got herself captured in the process while protecting Tinkerbell so Tink won’t get captured from humans (well it was only the dad, i’m sure she heard Tink’s outburst on the dad but decided NOT to make it a big deal out of it since getting Tink out mattered more to Vidia then everything else and i feel that she wanted to find her forgiveness by Tink so this is her way of making it up to Tinkerbell, she was so scared and horrified FOR Tinkerbell, even before she called the others for help to befree Tinkerbell)

she literally completely teamed up with Tinkerbell, NOT by choice to Vidia at first even though she completely disagrees with Tinkerbell’s choices but she nonetheless had her back the entire times

and when you expected her to appear less, she appeared just as much like the rest of the group did in further movies, even the finale movie

she helped Tinkerbell with the snowmaking machine even though i’m sure she wasn’t too thrilled with it at first, if in a not so obvious ways in the tinkers nook

she helped and risked herself WITH Tinkerbell to bring Periwinkle to the winter woods because Peri’s wings couldn’t take it anymore and has been here for Tinkerbell her entire times, even comforting Tinkerbell and trying to take Tinkerbell with her (Tinkerbell didn’t seem to agree with Vidia there but decided not to intervene knowing how Tinkerbell is, always want to be right and fight for the things she wants no matter if it will break the rules or not, she felt so sorry for Tinkerbell in that scene)

she showed up with the snowmaking machine that needed to be destroyed to the water and on this one WANTED to help out to get rid from the snowmaking machine and i can tell she was more then just happy to help out when Tink called her friends for help to destroy the snowmaking machine

then she checked up on Tinkerbell with the box and reminded her if not sarcastic ways about taking a break for once and likes to help out with the box even if Tinkerbell hasn’t asked for it, Vidia atleast cares for others and NOT just for the 4 seasons festival unlike the rest of the group

once Vidia, Tinkerbell and the rest of the group had to team up from the pirates she helped Tinkerbell a little more then the rest of the group (the door part, the pirates and probably brainstormed how to get rid from the cage while she sort of was trying to calm Tinkerbell down when Tinkerbell tried to get out from the cage out of frustration, Vidia knew hitting on the cage is not an option to get rid from it since she was the very first one coming up to Tinkerbell knowing Tink’s frustration)

Vidia and Tinkerbell were the only ones that took the whole blue dust seriously if Tinkerbell thinks nobody was gonna take the whole mission seriously, Vidia did took it seriously compared with the rest of the group (Vidia might responded the worse when she found out she became a Tinker but once the group arrived at the pirateship she got it over with, same for Tinkerbell who at first wasn’t TOO thrilled with her becoming a water talent, a little ironic, but she quickly got it over with knowing what mattered more to them both, that’s probably the other reason why Vidia is being there for Tinkerbell the entire times while the rest of the gangs, they didn’t seemed to get it over with, still not used to their new talent and even argued over it, it was often Vidia who had to be the peacemaker followed by Tinkerbell, knowing arguing isn’t the way to resolve the problems, and she didn’t blamed iridessa, instead she pointed that Zarina was to the blame they were in the mess in the first place when Rosetta and iridessa argued in the cage)

and the finale movie with the Gruff situation when Fawn Tinkerbell and Silvermist came in action and figured these 3 needed help, even under the odd green weather

ever since the 3rd movie came out i grew to like her for that reasons and once the other movies came out she turned into one of my favourite and all the stuff i’ve mentioned from the 3rd movie till the 6th movie that are the reasons what i love about Vidia because no matter how much she and Tinkerbell clash and her disagreeing with Tinkerbell as the 2 opposite characters most of the times, she’ll always be there for her and likes to help out, infact i feel like even if she just befriended Tinkerbell since at the end of the 3rd movie she’s being there for Tinkerbell a little more then the rest of the group, she even helped her out a little more then the rest of the group knowing when Tinkerbell needs help and in bad times she often knows how Tinkerbell is feeling (especially in the 4th movie with the Periwinkle situation since she and Fawn were the only ones who actually comforted Tinkerbell trying to take Tink with her)

i don’t know how or why but i had to share with what i think with what Vidia does for Tinkerbell, in general i feel like Tinkerbell is kind of ungrateful expect when she’s around Terence, Tinkerbell should also thank Vidia with like everything since from the 3rd movie, if Vidia wasn’t there in the 3rd movie Tinkerbell was definitely gonna get killed from humans especially at near the end of the 3rd movie when the dad was about to capture Tinkerbell but instead of Tinkerbell it was Vidia who took her place in the jar that almost killed Vidia in the process

Tinkerbell is also one of my favourite characters but sometimes i feel like she needs to look back for what her friends does for her especially Vidia, both of them had rocky starts but ended up becoming close friends with each other and it still stayed while Vidia never lost any of her sarcastic and sassy traits, just nicer to others

#vidia #tinkerbell #disney #disney fairies

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 4 years

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The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 4

A 12xRose Human AU

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays. Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3 | Masterlist

—

Malcolm sighed, levering himself up and around to face her, setting his scotch on the table next to her and smiling wryly. “Thanks.”

He glanced up at her, and found her staring at him with an intense expression. She didn’t look away, and his smile faded as he took her in. God she’s beautiful. It had taken him years to really see her, beyond the filter of his daughter’s friend. Once he’d seen it, though, he’d been sunk, unable to return to how things had been.

Body and soul, she radiated, shining with a goodness and kindness unparalleled – and he’d met many people with those qualities through the Foundation.

It had been the most ordinary moment in the world, they’d been joking about pizza toppings of all things, and his heart had just… expanded.

Like the bloody Grinch at the end of the movie.

Five years later the feeling had yet to go away; if anything it had continued to strengthen, mostly in the quiet moments. The ring of her laughter, the glint in her eye, the shine of her lip gloss. The casual touch as they would tease each other.

Is she getting closer?

Rose’s eyes flicked down to his lips, tongue darting out to wet her own, and his stomach bottomed out as heat raced through him. He leaned in slowly, watching with bated breath as her eyes closed, thinking yes, yes, almost- his own eyes slipped shut as he paused a hair’s breadth away, so, so close to what he’d been aching for, what he’d been waiting for, hoping, daring, dreaming-

“Dad?”

His daughter’s voice from the hallway was the equivalent of a bucket of ice water in his lap, shocking his senses and snapping his eyes open. By the time she entered his office he was around the back of the couch, leaning on it and doing his damnedest to act casual - an act severely hampered by Rose’s slow blink as her brow furrowed and her eyes opened, staring at him with a maelstrom of emotion in her eye.

“Whaaat’s going on?”

Rose stood, watching him watch her, and after a moment, her face shuttered. “I have a call to make, excuse me,” she mumbled, pushing past Clara without acknowledging her.

Entering further Clara made a face at Rose’s back, before looking at him. “What did I miss?”

“No, no, it’s- what’re you doing here?” Malcolm shifted the focus to her, coming around the sofa to hug her and kiss her forehead, simultaneously annoyed with her presence and horrified at that fact. In all her life he’d never allowed a romantic partner – especially not a potential one – to come between them, and yet right now all he wanted was for Clara to go away, to not have shown up.

So you could… what? What do you honestly think was about to happen? The thought of actually kissing Rose made his blood pressure soar, high enough he didn’t hear a word of Clara’s chatter. “Right, that’s great,” he cut her off mid-word, with no idea of what she was talking about or if it was, in fact, great. “You just missed your Mum if that’s why you’re here, and if not, I’m sorry, but I’m… on my way to a meeting,” he invented wildly, “across town, and I’m about to be late.”

“But, Dad-” Clara trailed after him as he grabbed his jacket and booked it to the door.

“Sorry, my love, we’ll have to talk later.” With another fleeting forehead kiss he all but ran, skipping the lift in favor of the stairs for no other reason than to keep moving, entirely uncertain of where he was going until he exited the door and found Graham waiting in the loading dock by the town car.

“Where to, boss?” his chauffeur asked, nonplussed as he folded his newspaper and opened the door, and Malcolm slid in thinking If I lose the Estate I’ve got to drive myself. Or take the Tube.

He shook his head, meeting Graham’s eye in the rearview mirror.

“Any-fucking-where but here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Rose fled Malcolm’s office without even bothering to greet her friend, horrified and humiliated at what had just almost transpired.

I’m such a moron. He doesn’t want me. How could I be so stupid?

She found herself in the bathroom with no clear memory of getting there, washing her hands as she tried to think. What do I do? What do I do what do I do what do I do?

The woman staring back at her from the mirror had no answer, nothing to offer. Tears leaked out of her eyes, not quite crying but not nearly as calm as she’d like to be.

The door creaking open made her turn to the hand dryer, offering her back to whoever was coming in and using the sound of the blower to cover her sniffles.

“Rose?”

Tears welled again at her best friend’s soft, soothing voice, but it was also the realization that for the first time in their friendship, she couldn't discuss her boy troubles with Clara. Malcolm was her father, and it just wouldn’t be right. I’m on my own.

“Sweetheart.”

Clara’s hand on her shoulder released the floodgates, and Rose spun, throwing herself into her friend’s arms sobbing, relaxing into the welcome embrace.

Whatever happens, I can’t lose Clara.

Once she pulled herself together they adjourned to Malcolm’s office, Rose hesitating in the doorway. “Clara-”

“He ran out, a meeting across town he claimed, like I can’t tell when he’s full of shit. C’mon.”

They settled together on the couch, kicking off their shoes and curling up as they had done so often, though never on this particular couch. This isn’t the Tucker I’d like to be with like this, Rose thought morosely, feeling guilty at the idea. Clara was her very best friend in all the world, the one who knew all her secrets. It felt paramount to betrayal to think that.

“Wait!” Barefoot, Clara leapt off the couch, returning a moment later with the whisky decanter and two matching glasses. “Here.”

“It’s the middle of the day,” Rose gave a token protest, nonetheless taking a mouthful of the liquid, enjoying the burn as it went down. Working for Malcolm had introduced her to the world of scotch, and he’d been a willing and enthusiastic teacher, telling her with an arrogant but teasing smile, Rose Tyler, who better to teach you about scotch than a Scot?

That had been the first, but hardly the last time she’d wanted to fist his stupid tee shirt, pull him closer, and snog the living daylights out of him. She’d once even had a dream that was essentially them doing body shots of whisky off each other across his desk. It had taken the better part of a week to look him in the eye without blushing afterwards.

Glancing up from the glass she found Clara watching her, head propped on her hand, elbow on the back of the couch for support. “What?”

“So, what exactly did I almost walk in on?”

“What d’you mean? Nothing. What?”

“Rose.” Clara shook her head, sighing. “C’mon. What was that? You’re both being far too weird for it to be nothing.”

She bit her lip, swirling the scotch just to watch the motion, uncertain of what to do. Normally she would confide, they had no secrets, but… this was just too strange.

Okay, one secret.

“Nothing.”

“Rose.”

“What do you think of this whole… Wallace’s will thing?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at her friend in the universal change the subject time-honored glare. “Did you know anything about it?”

“Of course not!” Clara gasped, outraged. “You think I’d know about something like that and not tell you? More importantly, you think I could keep a secret that big? Come on!”

Rose had to smile at that, burrowing down slightly into the sofa. It was incredibly comfortable, and she knew Malcolm had spent more than a few nights on it during busy weeks. If she strained, she could almost catch a hint of his cologne. You are so far gone. And an idiot. “True,” she conceded, “but I had to ask.”

“Well, I didn’t. And I can guarantee that Dad didn’t either; no way he’d let Wally pull a stunt like that. You know he respects you too much.”

“Thanks.” It hadn’t even occurred to her that Malcolm might have known, but in thinking about it, she knew he couldn’t have; he wouldn’t let that happen. He had, somehow, become one of her biggest supporters. Her faith in him was absolute. “So, what do you think I should do?”

Clara smirked, not hiding her face behind her glass quickly enough. “I dunno. Be my new mummy?” She shrieked with laughter when Rose swatted her, before yelping, “No, my whisky!” as it almost spilled.

They giggled together, and Rose shook her head, smiling softly. “Wouldn’t that be something. I suppose one could argue I’ve already had plenty of practice,” she teased, thinking about uni. They’d been alike in many ways, but while Clara liked to go out and party, Rose was more of a homebody, one who reluctantly accepted the designation of mom-friend – which said more about her friends than it did about her, given that she wasn’t the particularly well-organized or neat-freak type. Everyone else had just been worse.

“You’ll be a good mum,” her friend said confidently, nudging Rose’s knee with her own. “No question.”

“That seems optimistic,” Rose snorted, trying to hide the twinge in her heart as she realized, “If I went through with this- for the Foundation, obviously- then I’ll be thirty-five and divorced. Bit late to start a family of my own.”

“What? That’s not true!” Clara protested, sitting upright. “We’re still plenty young! Lots of women have babies in their late thirties. Don’t give up!”

Smiling sardonically, Rose shook her head. “Oh, come on. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but definitely impractical. If a bloke is in his mid-thirties and never been married, or worse divorced, there’s a reason. No.”

Clara pursed her lips in thought for a moment before brightening. “I know! Go it alone. Adopt, or use a sperm bank. Do it on your own terms. Hell, it’s the twenty-first century – there’s plenty of ways to get material from someone without going near their trousers. You could get some from my dad, for crying out loud – I always wanted a sibling.”

That had Rose laughing, trying to picture not only the conversation, but also the outcome. “You’d be, at a minimum, thirty-one years older than your sibling. That’s just absurd – you’d always be mistaken for their mum!”

“You’re twenty-five years older than Tony,” Clara argued. “It’s not that different.”

Rose’s laughter trailed off as she pictured it; not Clara with a decades-younger sibling, but rather, Malcolm with a baby. He’d worship another kid. Once, after a scotch-too-many, he’d confessed one of his greatest life disappointments had been not having more children. She could see it, clear as day, the gruff and severe Scot losing his shit over a tiny person, being absolutely fascinated by watching his child grow and learn, discovering the world. No child could have a prouder father, that’s for sure. She’d heard enough stories about Clara’s childhood to know that, not so much from the story itself but the pride and joy evident in the retelling.

Her heart ached at the thought, of sharing a home, a child, a life with Malcolm. For the first time, she admitted to herself that she was in love with him, truly, madly, deeply in love, the kind where other men held almost no interest for her. She wasn’t dead, could certainly appreciate a fine specimen of man when she saw it, but… she didn’t find herself wanting more. She winced, realizing it had been more than a year since her last shag, longer since her last actual relationship.

He’s my standard.

It hurt to think, but it was true; she was constantly comparing other men to him, if subconsciously, and he came out on top every time. His jokes were funnier, his hair was better, his smile more charming, his eyes deeper. Whenever they would touch, mostly in passing with how often she handed things to him or vice versa, a spark would shock her wherever his skin touched hers.

“Clara-”

“Shit!” her friend cut her off, eyes widening as she reached for her buzzing mobile. “Shit, shit, shit. I’ve got a meeting with some parents, I cannot be late.” Shaking her head, she bounced up off the couch. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll still see you tomorrow night, yeah? Hold that thought. I gotta run, but I love you. Later, babe!”

And with a peck to the cheek she was gone, leaving Rose alone with her whisky and worries.

“Now what?”

#bbatcfic #ficandchips #Doctor Who #doctorroseprompts #Human!12xRose #Human!Twelfth Doctor #Rose Tyler #Human AU #AU #The Nuptial Necessity

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