Way back in 2008, after seeing Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, an idea formed in my head: what if Indiana met up with the Captain and Maria in Salzburg. The timing matched up; he even drives through Salzburg in Last Crusade. So I started to work out a story and even wrote the majority of it. It was fun to play with such an unlikely crossover, and setting it during the time where the Captain and Maria were falling in love added that fun tension. Coming up with the McGuffin was a particular favorite, for it allowed me to delve into my photos of Salzburg from my 2005 trip.Â
But I quickly learned that writing action is a challenge, and things werenât shaping up as Iâd wanted them to be. Iâd scrapped the entire end battle and realized I needed more excitement in the middle. In short, I lost enthusiasm for it and then other things (like Persuasion, Voyager, and the game changer Tatennant) pulled me away. It didnât help the story was written on a 2005 Dell laptop. When I finally got the desire to start picking at it again, it took forever to retrieve. It still sat for years.Â
Until this 2020 Corona virus lockdown. Thanks to @accio-spaceman tagging me in a fic prompt, Iâd realized the time had come. So I opened up google docs and was pleasantly surprised it was in better shape than Iâd feared and working on it became a new labor of love. Sure the action sequences were still a challenge, but thatâs a good thing, and Iâm not too disappointed with how they turned out.Â
TL; DR - I wrote a Sound of Music/Indiana Jones crossover fic, found here!
@accioinvisibilitycloak reblogged your post and said:
#âbut youre not benedickâ AGGH I CANT SHE LOVES HIM SO MUCH
#she doesnt want to but she does
#i love the idea that shes already starting to realize she loves benedick before the overhearing scenes even happen
#i love much ado with all my heart god its so good
#and this fic is so good
Thank you so much, Ceili!Â
I love the idea that Beatrice was already realising her feelings too. I think Benedick might have needed that extra push from overhearing the men talking, but there are so many hints that Beatrice was already there; she just needed the encouragement to believe her feelings might be requited. (Beatriceâs comment to Don Pedro that she once gave Benedick âa double heart for his single oneâ, Heroâs instinctively knowing who âSignoir Mountantoâ was in the opening scene, Beatrice saying that Benedick challenged Cupid, to name just a few.)
Iâm so glad to hear you enjoyed this, and thank you for sharing it with others too. Xx
slowburn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no thereâs only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt/comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut or fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or middle aged romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbours or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or genderbend // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane
I think most people have been tagged now but anyone who hasn't, please take this as an invitation to join in!
Lovely view into Beatriceâs. mind after such a surprising proposal. Despite her bravado, she is a wounded soul and being forced to have this kind of soul searching would have been an uncomfortable and unexpected practice. But Beatrice knows herself and while it wonât be easy for her, she is made of strong mettle.
I was tagged by @basmathgirl â thank you, this was really interesting!
Author Name:Â Accio-Spaceman on Tumblr, and Accio_Spaceman on AO3 and Instagram.
Fandom You Write For:Â Doctor Who (mainly Ten/Donna), Much Ado About Nothing (Beatrice/Benedick), and Tatennant Crossovers. A couple of my WIPs expand into other fandoms too, but theyâre mostly crossovers with (at least) one of those three.
Most Popular One-Shot:Â On AO3, itâs âStupid Hero Complexâ (Beatrice/Benedick), and on Tumblr itâs âAt An Aquariumâ (Peter/Nellie). I was kind of expecting it to be a Ten/Donna one, but itâs interesting to see such a difference between whatâs most popular on the different sites.
Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: My âOnwardsâ (Ten/Donna) series. It feels weird to call it a series when itâs only 1258 words, but I posted it as two separate fics so thatâs what AO3 has deemed it. Weirdly this one was much more consistent with Tumblr that the one-shots were.
Favourite Story You Wrote: Hmm⊠I quite like âThere Was A Star Dancedâ (Theresa/Roderick), partly because I just love the imagery of a costume ball, but also because it was probably one of the easiest to write in terms of the words just flowing without much effort. I also really enjoyed writing âHeroes And Villainsâ (Nellie/Peter) with @imnotacommittee.Â
Story You Were Nervous To Post: I get nervous pretty much every time I post anything, but âBroadschool Learning Revolutionâ (Tatennant Hogwarts AU) was my first multi-chapter fic, and the first time Iâd attempted to juggle so many characters, plus it was the first thing Iâd really done which had much plot to it rather than just fluff. Unfortunately I probably spent too long planning it, because by the time I actually came to write it I ran out of steam about 4 chapters into what was meant to be an epic series of multiple âbooksâ⊠Who knows though, I might come back to it some day!
How Do You Choose Your Titles: To be honest it varies quite a lot. Sometimes I have a title before I even start writing the fic, and use it more like a prompt. (Although sometimes when using this method I do change the title afterwards to better fit what Iâve written.) For a couple I just opt for âwhat-it-says-on-the-tinâ, like with âAt An Aquariumâ, or pick a significant line of dialogue, but generally I like to but a bit more effort in to come up with something clever; a play on words or something with a double meaning. Often they tend to come quite easily, but sometimes Iâll spend time googling phrases or pop culture references that might be relevant. I think âAfter The Masqueradeâ might be my favourite title so far.
 How Many Of Your Stories Are:
âŠComplete: 33 out of 36. Since my Hogwarts AU I decided not to post anything until it was complete, but I still have a couple hanging over that I havenât got back to yet⊠(âBroadschool Learning Revolutionâ, âMuch Ado About Lovesâ Labours Lostâ and an old âCinderella AUâ.)
âŠIn Progress: Other than the three above, I currently have 156 WIPs and ideas saved on my laptop, of which Iâm actively working on maybe 20? (I feel a lot better about having so many after reading the @basmathgirl has a similar number!)
âŠComing Soon: Iâve got about 5 one-shots that are nearly ready to go, 3 multi-chapter works that need a bit more time, and maybe 2 series feel like theyâve been in the works forEVER.
Do You Accept Prompts? Yes! Iâm always open to suggestions, but I will warn you that sometimes they sit in my drafts for quite a while before they get posted if Iâm struggling with inspiration, but I always try to do something with them, even if it ends up being a photo edit or aesthetic/collage instead of a fic.
 I tag: @imnotacommittee, @thenoblelark, and @fangjy.
An introspective look at Beatriceâs inner monologue following Don Pedroâs proposal, and what her refusal may mean for her future.
Originally written for a âmissing scene from a Shakespeare playâ prompt in an English exam.
Beatrice ran from the garden, her thoughts still reeling from the shock of what had just occurred. Had that really just happened? How could the Prince of all of Italy see her as a potential bride? Her! Poor, orphaned, out-spoken her? She knew she was hardly the ideal, quiet, obedient, trophy-wife that a future king should surely be looking for.
How could she be? Unlike her cousin, she had no land for her husband to inherit, no title â barely even enough money for a dowry.
Yet, somehow, the Prince has seen her as an acceptable choice. He had even seemed genuine in his offer, despite her initial thought that he must have been joking.
Her heart twisted as she remembered the brief heart-broken expression that had crossed his face at her denial. It had been so quick that she doubted anyone else had seen it, but itâd been enough that she was sure it would haunt her whenever she looked at him.
Despite this, Don Pedroâs proposal and her mortifying response wasnât the only thing causing her inner turmoil.
Having reached her private chambers, she sank down on the edge of her bed, knowing Hero would be celebrating her own engagement for hours yet.
No, the thing occupying the forefront of her mind was the thought that had caused her to reject Don Pedro, for he was certainly a nice enough man to have to endure for the rest of her life.
In the past, it had always been the fear of marriage and being owned by anyone that had driven her to refuse suitors, but this time, she was terrified to realise it was another thought that had driven those words from her mouth.
âBut youâre not Benedick.â
The name spun around in her head, making her dizzy with the repetition of those three little syllables and the confusion they were currently inspiring in her.
Where had that treacherous thought even come from? Heâd made it perfectly clear earlier that very evening exactly what he thought of her; âharpyâ indeed. Not that either of them had even been secretive about their mutual loathing.
There had been a time, many years ago, when perhaps- but no. She cut that thought off before it could go any further. That was done with now. Behind them, in the past; sheâd moved on!
But apparently not.
Raising a hand to her face, she was surprised to realise there were tears running down her cheeks. Swiping at them furiously, she berated herself for her lack of control. Sheâd been concealing these feelings behind her carefully constructed mask for years, so successful in her bluff that sheâd managed to convince even herself â why were her walls suddenly crumbling?
She knew why of course. With Hero soon to be married, sheâd be alone under her uncleâs rulership. With no ally against him and no daughters to distract him, he was sure to shift his attention onto her own lack of a husband.
Perhaps she would have done better to accept Don Pedroâs proposal, lest she be matched with an idiot? Her uncle was no doubt trying to soothe things over and accept on her behalf this very moment, and she could certainly do worse. The Prince did at least seem to genuinely enjoy her company.
But would she have been happy? She doubted it. How could she be when her heart belonged to another? No, she would be better to remain a maid then to burden someone else with her when she was unable to love them, no matter how much they cared for her. It would be unfair to both of them. She highly doubted Benedick would ever lower himself to marry an apparent âharpyâ, so suffer in silence she would.
Heaving a sigh, she crawled under the covers, not bothering to undress, praying for sleep to relieve her of her inner turmoil.
Guys, remember when all i did was drawing Catherine Tate ? Those were good timesâŠanyway, this fanart was long overdue, a lot of you asked for Catherine as Crowley from Good Omens so here she is :D
Donna finally gets her relaxing beach holiday with The Doctor.
Requested by @fangjyâ so long ago that I canât even remember when it was. Sorry that it took so long. Xx
[Image Description at end of post.]
âI canât believe you actually pulled it off! A beach day with no aliens! Touch wood.â She tapped her hand on her forehead.
The Doctor frowned a little, but was distracted by her next comment.
âWell, apart from you, obviously.â
âHey! To me, youâre the alien one!â
Donna blinked at him, deciding whether to take offence at that comment. Before she could formulate a response, The Doctor had bounded off across the sandy shoreline that spread out in front of them, searching for the perfect spot to pitch their sunbeds.
Donna sighed, pulling the TARDIS doors shut behind her and hitching her bag higher on her shoulder as she resigned herself to following him until he was satisfied that they were in optimal position to enjoy the sunshine. What was another few minutes trekking after him when sheâd already waited this long, especially if it kept him quiet â even for just five minutes â while she relaxed?
At least, thatâs what sheâd told herself.
Nearly two hours later, when they were still hauling their deckchairs across the sand and the sun was almost directly above them, she was beginning to question the wisdom of this course of action.
The Doctor paused again, staring intently at an a invisible imperfection on ground in front of him, and then another just to the right, before dropping so suddenly that Donnaâs heart lurched, and she almost dropped her bag. The Doctor, meanwhile, had pulled out his glasses from the suit jacket that he was still wearing, and was âummingâ and âahhingâ as he watched the sand heâd scooped up trickle through his fingers.
Donna rolled her eyes impatiently. This was the fifth time heâd done this in the last ten minutes.
âDoctor, can you just pick a spot, already? Thereâs nothing wrong with here, or back over there, or the last twenty places you inspected before that! If I wait much longer to put some sunscreen on Iâm going to start clashing with my hair!â
The Doctor looked at her, startled.
âBut IâŠâ
âYes?â
âI just wanted to make sure itâs perfect for you!â
Donnaâs ire faded just a tad.
âSpaceman, youâve already gotten us here in one piece â the only thing that would make it more perfect would be to actually have some time relaxing before sunset.â She smiled at him. âAnd also, hopefully making it back to the TARDIS still in one piece. That would be good too.â She added hastily, remembering their recent close call on a planet that The Doctor referred to as Twel X Seven.
She preferred calling it Planet Of The Lobster Chefs.
âWhat are you looking for anyway?â Donna asked, dropping her bag and deckchair somewhere off to the left and moving closer to crouch beside her favourite of the aliens sheâd encountered.
(Well, her current favourite alien. Heâd been briefly overtaken by one that had morphed into her favourite actor, but then heâd turned out to be shape-shifting yellow slime, so The Doctor had quickly retaken the top position.)
âThereâs something not quite right about the sand, but I canât quite put my finger on it. It doesnât make sense. For all intents and purposes the crystals look like your standard quartz sediment, touch of magnetite, some calcium-carbonate, all pretty standard, but it doesnât taste right.â
âTaste right?â
âYeah.â The Doctor said distractedly, frowning at the sand again as his tongue darted out to lick the grains left on his fingertip.
With considerably effort, Donna managed not to gag, and instead focused her gaze just as intently on the sand in front of them. Still seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she paused to consider her next actions.
âDoctor, is it life threatening?â
âProbably not.â
She raised an eyebrow at him.
âNearly definitely not.â
âWell, those are pretty good odds, donât you think? Nearly definitely not going to get killed by grains of sand that look, feel, and act pretty normal?â
âYeahâŠâ
âSo can we please put our deckchairs up now?â
âYeah.â The Doctor agreed, not hiding his disappointment very well at all. Donna narrowed her eyes at him.
âAn hour relaxing with me and then you can go investigate on your own to your heartsâ content.â
The Doctorâs demeanour brightened considerably.
âYou mentioned sunscreen?â
Donna rolled her eyes as she stood, grabbing the nearest chair to begin wrestling with.
âIn the bag. You can do my back first.â
The Doctor managed nearly three-quarters of the allotted hour sitting with Donna before the whirring of his sonic caused her to send him off on his own early. Twenty minutes later, when The Doctor returned with seaweed caught in his hair and a dejected pout, Donnaâs hysterical laughter made up for the fact he was now missing his left flip-flop.
[Image Description for photo at top of post: a collage of six photos in a grid. The first photo shows two deck chairs on the beach under a palm tree. The second photo is of a pair of navy blue swimming trunks with bananas printed on them. The third photo is a close up of a ginger lady wearing a floppy sunhat. The fourth photo is a screenshot of the Tenth Doctor against a sandy background. The fifth photo is a blue beach bag with a dress falling out of it. The sixth and final photo is of a bottle of sun-cream and a pair of swimming goggles. End Description.]
Benedickâs tipsy ramblings bring an unexpected moment of sincerity.
Â
âNay, Beatrice,â Benedick leaned heavily on his wifeâs shoulder as she guided his stumbling into their chamber, âI protest, thou art the fairest lady in all the land!â
The lady in question snorted in derision.
âIf I be the fairest in all the land, it is a mystery no longer that men doth take their refuge at sea! Such fortune it then is that Cupid hast them bound â else my kinswoman would too be forced to seek refuge, but I fear theirs may lay beneath the waves. Nay, âtis not so! Thy drink dost obscure thy vision, my Lord.â
Benedick frowned as he tried â and failed â to follow Beatriceâs words, only succeeding in grasping the final sentence of her declaration.
âNay, âtis true! Thou would doubt mine word?â
âI dost trust thy word as far as I dost trust thy memory! That is, I trust thou remembers whose bed dost await you at home.â
That accusation at least cut through the mead-induced fog.
âDost mine lady truly think of me so ill? That I would forget her majesty at the first sight of a pretty face?â
Beatrice gasped, feigning shock. Toying with Benedickâs unusually dull wits was such fun.
âIs mine face not pretty enough to turn thy head? Or dost it merely lack the ability to retain thy gaze?â
Benedick tripped over himself, literally and figuratively, in his haste to apologise. Beatrice was immediately at his side to steady him, allowing him the opportunity to grasp her face within his hands and cradle it not quite as softly as he would have done had he been sober.
âMy love, thou dost twist my word! Thy face be-est the fairest face I hath ever laid eyes upon. Thy face is as Helenâs â no, Aphroditeâs! â was to Paris.â
Beatrice was caught up in sincerity in Benedickâs gaze, but managed to break the trance enough to raise a single eyebrow.
âThou should be careful with thy vows, lest they offend Athene. Messina would not thank you if thou were to invite a Trojan army.â
Benedick frowned again, casting Beatrice face aside suddenly and swaying dangerously in the opposite direction. Waving an arm that his wife had to duck to avoid, he decided;
âPeace, my lady! Thy wit is too sharp for mine tonight; indeed I am heavy in the cups. Let us rest now, and tomorrow I shall attest your beauty to all.â
âI think thou attested it well enough in the tavern this evening, Benedick. But rest; let the morning come, so I may remind you of thy words anew.â
The Doctor would be the first to throw caution to the wind and make his feelings known and Donnaâs reaction is so her⊠poor Donna, not believing sheâs capable of being loved by a good man.
The Doctor is desperate for love, and though heâs not always so great at vocalising his emotions, I think his need to have someone to share his life with, completely and utterly, at this point overrides his usual defences. He knows Donna is in it for the long run, through the good and the bad, and heâs no longer afraid of frightening her off. He needs her, as simple and complicated as that may be.
Lanceâs betrayal shook Donna to her core, but I think The Doctorâs unconditional compassion and admiration is slowly helping to start heal those wounds, and will continue to do so for the rest of their lives. (Or at least until âJourneyâs Endâ...)
A missing scene set at the end of âThe Doctorâs Daughterâ.Â
Inspired by the bottom two gifs in this gifset by @fuckyeahtatennant.
Â
As they maintained eye contact, Donna became aware of The Doctor slowly closing the gap between them. She was in drawn as if by an enchantment, until suddenly that gap was nothing, his palm ever so gently cupping her cheek, and she was allowing her face to be tilted upwards.
After several hesitant brushing-of-lips, and a slightly more confident but no less gentle one, Donna drew back slowly, allowing eyelids that she hadnât been aware of closing to flutter open.
âDonna, Marthaâs Tom needs her, but I⊠I need you.â
âIâm nothing special.â She automatically denied, shaking her head even as a soft blush rose to her cheeks.
âYouâre brilliant!â
âYouâre daft.â She retorted, her eyes and face already gravitating back towards his lips.
âMm, weâre all fools in love.â The Doctor murmured, half muffled by her mouth.
Donna jerked backwards a whole inch within the circle of his arms.
âYouâre in love? With me?â
The Doctorâs hand left Donnaâs waist to tug at his ear.
âAh, well⊠Yes. Is that okay?â
Donnaâs dazed eyes fell back to The Doctorâs lips.
âYeah.â She thought for a moment. âYeah, thatâs okay.â
âGood.â
They kissed again, hands tangling in hair, exploring backs, and cradling faces.
When they parted, breathless, Donna rested her forehead against his.
Peter and Nellie find themselves in a rather public engagement.
Mature rating for suggestiveness.
âPeter⊠Peter, not here.â
Nellie reluctantly pulled her neckline back to its proper place just in time for the young family walking past their hiding spot to remain unscarred. Undeterred, Peter refocused his efforts from exploring his partnerâs breastbone to trail butterfly kisses along her clavicle.
âMy carâs outside.â
âPeter!â Nellie finally succeeded in detaching Peterâs mouth from her person. âI do have some standards you know!â
âYou didnât last week after-â
â-Okay!â
Nellie spared a weak smile for the scandalised old lady walking past.
Her momentary distraction allowed Peter to resume his attack just behind Nellieâs ear. He grinned as he felt her weight sink into his arms as her knees gave way. That spot was always guaranteed to dissolve her defences. He didnât know why she even bothered to argue with him anymore.
âPeter, Iâm serious!â she groaned, batting half-heartedly at his shoulder. âNot here! Anyone could see!â
âWe are in a hotel. Iâm sure an empty room wouldnât be too hard to come by. In fact-â Nellie gasped as his fingers suddenly delved into her bra without warning- âWeâve even got a keycard to one of them!â
He grinned proudly, brandishing his trophy as she once more wrestled her dress back into place.
âOr-â Nellie began, annoyed- âYou could just stop kissing me.â
Peter pulled a face at the suggestion, slipping the card into his trouser pocket as his arms twined around Nellieâs waist to draw her close once more.
âYou donât want me to do that.â
âMm.â Nellie refused to give him an answer.
He knew her far too well.
âNellâŠâ
âWeâre not going somewhere else! I promised Sarah weâd stay until at least-â
â-Even if I said that that keycard unlocked a bridal suite?â
Nellie froze. Why would he have booked the bridal suite? Even in his most lavish moods, heâd never have splashed out in that category, and certainly wouldnât have referred to a hotel room as such unless⊠Surely he wasnâtâŠ
Peter moved his attention from her ear lobe to her cheek bone, before drawing back a minute distance to study her expression.
Nellieâs breath caught in her throat at the flicker of vulnerability she caught in his questioning gaze.
âIâm sure Sarah would understand if we disappeared.â She conceded with breathless excitement.
âGood.â
Peter drew away slightly, resting their foreheads to each other as he reached behind her neck. It took Nellie a moment to realise he was trying to undo the clasp of her necklace â the necklace that held the promise ring he had given her all those years ago.
She gently rested her hands over his, blinking rapidly against the tears threatening to manifest as she undid the necklace herself before resting it in his palms.
With shaking hands, he removed the ring from the chain and moved back the tiniest distance â barely enough space between them to allow his to clasp her hand between his and slide the ring to its new home.
Meeting her eyes once more, they shared a nervous but joyous laugh. Melting back into each otherâs lips, it didnât take long for Peter to murmur;
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