New Boot Goofin

Just random stuff I've decided to write, please don't expect anything good. just new boot goofin.

[tadbits]

Bad Flirt

I am profoundly sorry for what you guys will read. Requested by @turtlegirl521 ​ <3

This is a crack!fic about Madame De Pompadour and Rose Tyler

I’m sorry

Also I did little to no historical research for this please don’t judge me.

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The date is 1756, Madame De Pompadour, THE Madame De Pompadour sits at her writing desk. She is carefully crafting a letter to the local butcher to complain about the quality of meat for her King Louis XV. Lou didn’t like to write his own Karen style letters due to the fact he thought it made him look whiney. Madame De Pompadour took up his Karen style letter cause because if she didn’t, Lou would never stop complaining and everyone in the caste was getting quite fed up about the fact that the meat arrived and it seemed to have some sort of meaty juice coming off of it and someone needed to be fired for it, according to Lou.

Her portrait of a bowl of fruit made a rumble and a young girl who had blonde hair stepped into her room. “You’re not the man who comes here, who are you?” De Pompadour asked.

“I’m Rose Tyler, I’m a friend of The Doctor’s,” The Blonde said. “He’s dealing with my, um, other friend, Mickey, right now. He got lost and we were both looking for him. I guess I ended up here.”

‘Well, if you’re a friend of The Doctor’s you must be alright,” Madame De Pompadour decided. She continued to pen her letter.

“What are you writing?” Rose asked.

“Oh nothing, just a letter to the butcher about the poor quality of meat,” Madame De Pompadour responded.

“Mind if I take a look?”

“For why?”

“Well,” Rose Started. “Everyone always says how smart you are, I want to see if that’s true.”

Madame De Pompadour handed over her half penned letter to her. Rose looked over it and soon realized that the TARDIS only translates to English and does not translate old English to Modern English. It took her a few minutes to read over a letter that might have only taken her a minute in Modern English.

“It’s good,” Rose looked again at the paper, she still didn’t quite get what was wrong with the meat. “I guess your reputation holds up.”

As Rose handed the letter back her fingers grazed Madame De Pompadour’s. She blushed as she watched Madame De Pompadour turned back to her desk and continued to write. Rose hadn’t had a full blown crush since the 10th grade. And now she was crushing on Madame De Pompadour. She shrugged it off but decided, she could pursue it since it doesn’t matter and if she fails miserably she can just walk right back out through that painting and never have to hear about it again.

“So, Madame De Pompadour, ever been with a woman?”

“Is that an offer Miss Tyler?”

You can fill in the blanks of what happened next ;)

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Hey, good for for getting to the end of that, wowzah. Anyways, I am so so sorry and I hope you got a laugh out of it. Please check out my other work if you even slightly liked the writing style of this.

I have spoken

[unnecessary-childish-screaming]

Hi guys,

So I write sometimes and I figured I would give a place for my writing. So, if that's what you're interested in, go ahead and check out @tadbits

As of rn there's only one short story up and who knows what and when will end up there next.

[tadbits]

Anti-Chosen One

The world waited for any news on their hero, their chosen one to escape, or maybe even defeat the infamous, Doctor Richard Puriel. Prophets and people alike sat with bated breath. 

Dr. Puriel had tortured the entire continent for ten years. He was an ultra millionaire who’s money and the power that money had given him, had gone to his head. Using his money he had opened up a ‘new science research facility’. In that facility he ran an underground kidnapping and testing group. He took random people off the streets, people he deemed wouldn’t be missed or looked for. Once he got those people, he had his scientists run experiments on them, trying to find out if there was any way to create the ability to prophesize in people not naturally born with the ability. Many prophets were experimented on to see what gave them the ability. 

The prophet community was already low before Dr. Puriel started kidnapping members. The more time went on, the fewer prophets there were left. If Dr. Puriel wasn’t stopped soon, prophets would disappear from the continent all together. 

Years before The Puriel Co. debacle even started, a high priest of the prophet council made a prophecy.  The prophecy had read “In the darkest hour, the one called right will change the heart of the pure”.

Jack Wright ended up being the hero that had been prophesied to save them. 

Since most weapons were outlawed due to there being such a surplus of prophetic warning about unjust violence with them, only oddball weapons remained not outlawed. The most popular and common to have in the day and age, swords. 

The prophecy was given a sword to align with it and whoever was brave enough, or dumb enough, to pick it up would be the chosen one. Jack was the first, and only, one dumb enough, brave enough, and cocky enough to even unter the temple where the sword was kept. Of course he also might not have been aware what it was to begin with, he was new to the area. Honestly, looking back on it, he definitely did not know what he was getting into. 

From the time Jack picked up the sword on the Prime Minister of the United Continents, also known as the Prime Minister of Earth, took up young Jack’s case and became his self proclaimed mentor. 

Now, flash forward two years the world holds its breath as new helicopters circle the entrance of the underground layer of Puriel. The Prime Minister’s car lets him off about 200 yards from the entrance so when Jack eventually resurfaces he can greet him and drive him to the conference panels and interviews that were already phoning in times to meet the poor sap. 

The door of the layer bangs open and the silhouette of a man holding a severed head in hand and sword resting across their shoulders steps into the light of day. 

Jack Wright throws the slack jawed head of Former Doctor Richard Puriel at the Prime Minister’s feet, “Fuck being the Chosen One”. 

Jack walked back into the layer and slammed the door, never to be seen again.

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Hey guys, so sometimes I like writing things and I figured, might as well just throw them up here on my tadbits account. Now if this sucks, whatever it sucks, I’m just having fun lol. If you have any constructive criticism always feel free to send me a message. 

I have spoken