felt tardis

Bring Me Back, Part Three: Don't Look Down

WARNINGS: Nothing that wasn’t in the previous parts.

Written for @breathingstops because I can’t resist a reader who buzzes.

(Hey, kids, find the “Firefly” reference!)


“They are released at the front and told to go home - this is all they know. But to get there they must fly over war. Can you imagine such a thing? Here you are flying over so much pain and terror - and you know you can never look down. You have to look forward or you’ll never get home. I ask you - what could be braver than that?”

There were days when Jack Harkness missed being a coward. He missed those days before you said to him: “Jack, if you wanna be better than this, then take my hand right now.” And then you saved him, and as much as Jack missed being a coward with zilch responsibilities, he couldn’t really imagine going back to the way he was before you took his hand and told him to run. He told you that, once. For some reason, you seemed to think it was hilarious.

So, when he realized he was going to have to dive into the fray of Cybermen, he thought of the day he took your hand, and he did not regret it. He thought of the Doctor, blood-stained and wasting away, and he did not question his motivations. He thought of what he was before and what he had become, and it did not occur to him to turn back. He was going to save you, and that was that.

The journey wasn’t pleasant. Vortex Manipulators were nasty little buggers, no matter how high-tech they got. But Jack, unlike the Doctor, never went to the wrong time and place (well, almost never), and he was relying on that to get him to you. And get to you, he did.

At first, all Jack saw was blood - but then he realized what he was looking at. Upgrading was messy business, and there were bits and pieces of… people… everywhere. What was left of them, anyway. Jack had seen worse, but the smell of electricity burning flesh made his gut lurch, and he tasted bile at the back of his throat. There were Cybermen everywhere, but they were going about there business and not paying much attention to their surroundings. They obviously weren’t worried about anyone escaping, which probably meant that the building was under some sort of lockdown, which also probably meant that you were still in here. You couldn’t have been upgraded yet, Jack knew, because he had timed his landing for just seconds after you were taken, but fear cut through him so forcefully-

He screamed your name.

Fear of death was something you had learned to let go of. It’s not the sort of thing you can hold onto, not if you want to keep running with the Doctor. But fear of death and fear of dying are two very different things, and fear of dying a terrible, agonizing death that would turn you into what was basically a mechanical zombie? Yeah, not an unreasonable fear in your current situation.

You had sort of forgotten that Cybermen could be really stupid. They had drugged you (which, ow, still really hurt, because there was a puncture wound on the back of your neck that throbbed), and then they just… forgot about you? They had dumped you next to an upgrading facility. Apparently, there was a waiting list, and thank goodness for that, because otherwise you would have been upgraded in your sleep.

It was probably the smell of burning flesh that woke you up. There weren’t anymore screams, thank God, although you could only assume that meant that everybody was so far into the upgrading process that they had just stopped screaming. Which, unfortunately, meant that there was no saving them. And as unfortunate as that was, you felt a sense of relief, because that meant that there was no one left for you to save, meaning that there was no reason for you to attempt any thrilling heroics. You could run away, and run away was what you did.

You ran back to where you were sure the Doctor had parked the TARDIS. You felt that giddy sense of freedom and the feeling you got every time you managed to surprise your ‘superior’ Time Lord. Nearly dying was awful, but the look on the Doctor’s face was always worth having to pull the hey-look-I-survived-another-near-death-experience card. You were ready, so ready, to jump into the TARDIS and surprise him, or wait for him if he didn’t get back first.

But the TARDIS wasn’t there.

You gaped at the empty space for a moment, uncomprehending, before you realized.

He left.

But, no. It was even worse than that, because of course the Doctor left. This whole building was set to blow if the Cybermen weren’t eradicated, and it was too late for that, so obviously he left. There was nothing here for him to be heroic for. The people were dead or dying and the Cybermen weren’t a threat as long as they stayed inside, which they had to do, because there was no way out. If the Doctor hadn’t left, that would have been stupid. But it was worse than all of that.

He left me.

You couldn’t believe it. You had seen the look in his eyes. The despair. Both of you had been so sure in that moment that you were past the point of no return, but- but- but you weren’t! You were here! You made it! You survived, you lived, you pulled the survival-beyond-expectations act like the Doctor did all the time, but where was he? Why hadn’t he waited? You would have! You would have waited until the last possible second to escape. You would have waited.

He left me.

The throbbing pain in your neck had bloomed into a nigh-unbearable ache that pulsed through your whole body, knocking painfully against the suddenly heavy weight of the TARDIS key resting between your breasts. Blood oozed from the cuts on your hands and dripped from your trembling fingertips. Your knees shook as you panted in panic. You were alone. The Doctor had never left you alone before, not like this, and- 

The building was under lockdown. It was full of Cybermen. It was set to blow sky-high.

You were going to die here.

You swayed on your feet, body throbbing and heart thundering and throat closing. Your skin crawled as your mind raced to keep up with your emotions. You were on the edge of a panic attack.

And then a hand grabbed yours.

You screeched, jumping sideways to escape, but the hand had a firm enough grip to pull you back, and you found yourself face-to-face with the one and only Captain Cheesecake and his absolutely dazzling, shameless grin.

“Jack?!” you shrieked, relief hitting you like a truck. Your whole body sagged. Jack was here. And if Jack got into this place without the TARDIS, that meant that there was a way out! You were going to live! You were going to get back to the Doctor!

Jack grinned, pulling your body flush against his. You immediately fell into an exaggerated swooning-damsel-in-distress pose that made his grin widen. You laughed.

“Hiya, sweetheart! I say we get outta here.”

2

Original Request: I’m wondering if you can do an 11th Doctor imagine? You just meet the doctor and hate him because he’s killed your race, his upset because he’s been watching you your whole life, you soon grow feeling for him after him taking you into the TARDIS 
A/N: Sorry, that it got so short!! I hope you like it, though!



Finally you saw yourself confronted with the one man you had searched for your whole life. Right in front of you stood the man that claimed to be The Doctor. There he was, in his silly clothing, looking at you with wide eyes, as if he would know you. As if he could see in your eyes the lifes of all the Dakkeerathi he had left to die.

Your home planet, Dishir Prime, had been destroyed. A victim. Not an intruder. The Doctor had allowed it to die. And with it your race.
You were nothing but a child, as it had happened. You yourself did not remember anything about it and no one knew exactly how you managed to survive the attack.

We were almost certain tou had grown up in Deshir Prime. When you closed your eyes, you still could see the schemes of high buildings, surrounded by hundreds of small huts. You could smell the fragrance of the streets, the fields, the mines. But all of this seemed so faint, so weak, that you asked yourself everytime, if it was nothing but a dream.

You had been a toddler, still barely able to connect thoughts, scared, you had been found on Luminar 5 – or so she’d been told by the habitants of that planet. The Solons’ – they called themselves – were known for their kindness. The Solons assumed, that your parents had sent an emergency ship to save you. At least that was the only logical reason you could have survived. And as time went on you grew up, and you grew nosier. You got into trouble more often than you could actually count with your fingers. It wasn’t that you had a bad childhood in particular. It was just, that you were different.
From what you had learned, the Dakkeerathi had evolved from the original inhabitants of your planet and the race that had once lived on Earth. Somehow their genepool had mixed, and the result had been the Dakkeerathi.
The last human had passed severaly decades ago, their previous home planet dead. Like yours. But you were still there. And you most certainly didn’t plan on dying anytime soon.
Your body resembled that of a human. Two legs, two arms, two feet, two hands, two eyes. Your skin was coloured in a colour that shined brightly, as soon as the light touched it. Normally being a dark emerald green, it would change to a colour no human being had ever invented a word for. Your senses were perfect, your skin soft, though hard to injure. That was who you are.

That was what everyone else used to be. Before The Doctor had blown up your planet.

And finally you had found him. Or rather he had found you. You had strolled along the markets of Hyspero, when, suddenly, you had came across something rather unusal in this part of the galaxis.
It was a big, blue box, standing behind a row of market tents. Since your curiosity hadn’t vanished as you had grown, this weird artefact immediately had awoken your interest.
Slowly you approached it, knocking softly on what seemed to be a door.  
When nothing happened, you tried to open it by the handle, but it was locked. Licking your lips, still eyeing the weird box, a voice suddenly caused you to turn around.
„It’s locked.“
You jumped slightly, staring at the male, who had been smiling at you, almost like a child would when boast with his newest toy to his jealous friends.
You were still thinking, if you should stutter or run, as the man’s eyes suddenly grew wide. He opened his mouth looking as if he wanted to say something, but closed it again immediately after. Confused at this behaviour, you furled your brows.
Hesitating slightly, you stepped closer, eyeing him suspiciously. „Who are you?“, you asked, realising to late, that you were the one lingering around his blue box, not the other way around.
Nonetheless the man didn’t seem offended. Not at all. He just stared at you, before regaining his composure, introducing himself.

„I am The Doctor.“
And with this single sentence, everything inside your mind had snapped.

„Y-You are The Doctor?“, you stuttered disbelieving.
Here you were on a beautiful day, encountering the guy you hated most, while strolling over Hyspero.
The Doctor just nodded. „You know me“, you realised, not being able to do anything else than stare at him. Again he nodded.

„Then you also knew Dishir Prime“, you stated dryly, watching his reaction.
He licked his lips. „Oh yes. I knew. If the Daleks, hadn’t-“
Hearing this lame excuse, something started hammering inside your head, ripping you out of your stiffness.
„Oh, yes. It was the Daleks fault. And who led them there? Who was responsible for them coming directly to Dishir Prime?“
„It was Dishir Prime, or the entire second galaxis.“

Your voice broke and tears of anger started to build in your eyes.
„You could have saved them. You could. But you didn’t.“ The anger welling up further in you, you clenched your fists. „Do you have any idea how it feels like to hear of you?“ A little quieter you added: „Do you have an idea of how it feels like to be the last of your kind?“
To your surprise the look on The Doctor’s face had suddenly changed. Sadly, almost regretting, he looked at you, nodding slowly. „Oh, yes. I do.“ Agast of this sudden change of mood, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how much time had passed, before The Doctor started to speak again.
„I saved you.“

You flexed your hands, confused by this sudden change of topic. „What?“
„I landed. Tried to warn your people. But they thought they could handle the Daleks alone. And then I found you. You were lost. Alone. So I took you, and I brought you to Luminar 5. I checked on you every few years. You were growing, you were healthy.“ A small smile twitched around the corners of his lips. A sad smile, though. „You were alive.“
You took a shaky breath, trying to organise your thoughts.

„Is that supposed to make me feel better?“ The Doctor shook his head. „No.“
Again a small smile darted over his face. „But I know of something that could. Come with me. I can show you so much more. Thousands of planets and galaxies. Even your ancestors.“
Shocked you shook your head. Was this man even real?

„Why should I go with you? Why should I even trust you?“
He hesitated. „Because we have a lot more in common than you think.“ After a short pause he added. „And because I want to make up for what I’ve done.“


It needed a lot more of persuasion, but as soon as he had said that he wanted to make up for what he had done, you saw something in his face. Maybe honesty, maybe just regret. But whatever it was, it had caught your attention.
As you finally entered the TARDIS – though not without a slight hesitation – you could do nothing else other than stand inside with an open mouth, staring at what you saw.
„I know, right?“, The Doctor grinned triumphantly.
Still amazed you started walking through the bright room, letting your hand slide over the panel right in the middle. It was amazing.
Suddenly you thought of something.
„Anywhere in time and space, huh?“, you asked, whereupon the Doctor proudly nodded, obviously more than fond of his ship. You bit your lip. This could be your chance.
„Can we go to Dishir Prime?“ Immediately The Doctor’s expression darkened again. Well, it was worth a try. Even before he answered you sighed, knowing what he would say.
„I’m sorry. But no, we can’t.“ To your surprise his face lit up again. „But I can show you something else.“
Enthusiastically he started pushing and turning the buttons and levers at the control panel, leaving you standing in awe, while you watched him, until you felt the TARDIS blast off.



You’ve seen him struggle. You’ve seen him hurt.
And after all this time you had understood, that The Doctor wasn’t an evil man. He was the opposite of it. A way too good man, stuck in too many decisions. And this time, since it had been either one planet, or thounsands of other races, he had made the right one.
You would have been proud to die for the second galaxis. Yet, you lived. And you were thankful for that.

Thinking about all of this, you looked up from the TARDIS screen, turning your gaze to him.
„Hey, Doctor“, you said, a small smile playing around the corners of your lips.
„Maybe you’re not so bad after all.“



requested by anon

A Apple A Day Keeps The Doctor Away

Summary: After a nasty accident involving some metal aliens, the reader gets injured, but hides it from the doctor in fear of having to go to the hospital.

Request: hiiiiya! could you maybe write a few tiny oneshots about the doctors helping a teen who’s just scared as fuck of doctors, but who needs medical attention? (I get that writing 10/11/12 is kind of a lot, so if you don’t want to do that 11 is fine! <3)

A/N: I am currently swamped with homework so I only did eleven!

Warnings: Fear of Doctors, and slight swearing

~~~~~

The damn rusty metal alien had clipped you as you ran, cutting a long gash into your side. At the time, you had been hyped up on adrenaline and the need to find the Doctor, so you hadn’t really noticed, but now, as you sat in the Tardis you felt the harsh sting. The doctor was busy fiddling with the controls, trying to get you to your next dangerous destination. You lifted your shirt slightly, hissing at the pain. You thought for a second that you were in trouble and the Doctor had heard you, but a quick glance up showed that e was absorbed by…whatever the hell he was doing at that time.

“Doctor, can we just pause for a moment. Maybe…not rush into danger immediately?” the Doctor’s head whipped up to you, confusion on his face. Sweat dripped down your forehead, a pale and sickly color taking over your skin.

“Are you alright?” He asked, finally pausing his fiddling for a moment. Fear struck you, making your head nod quickly. Too quickly. You pressed a hand you your dizzy forehead, clutching your side harder. The Doctor to notice, rushing to you. His hair fell into his eyes, suspenders handing at his waist. The burgundy bow-tie around his neck was crooked, him having not fixed it since your sprint to the Tardis. His hand moved your’s from your side, seeing the large red gash with blood dripping down. 

“Ok, off to the hospital with you! You need to see a Doctor.” You laughed, trying to hide the fear you felt at his determination to get you to a hospital.

“You are a Doctor. I don’t need a hospital, I just need to let it heal.” The doctor turned, a scolding look on his face.

“No objections, to the hospital…year 3042. Best year of medicine in my opini-”

“No!” You yelled, cutting him off. He looked over, shock written across his face. “I-I… I don’t like hospitals…” The shock melted away, leaving a smiling doctor.

“Ok, no hospital! You do need medical treatment, so…I believe there is a sick bay somewhere in the Tardis. Though, its meant for Timelords so I don’t know what it will do to you…but its worth a shot!” His smiled grew on his face, as he stumbled around to the hallway into the Tardis.  You laughed at his antics and the fact that he didn’t make you go to a hospital. You were glad he wasn’t forcing it on you, and realized that there was one type of Doctor that didn’t scared you. The madman-with-a-box kind. “Now its just a matter of finding it…” 

GabrielXReader

Request: Can u do a one shot where Gabriel and the reader are a couple and he had faked his death so people wouldn’t come after the reader because of him and Sam and dean walk in on them kissing and freak out.

Request: So I wanted to request a Gabriel fic. Say you lived in the bunker with TFW and were like a little sister to them. Demons killed your family and were after you because you could see angel wings/angels, but you were never around when Gabe was. So one day he got curious about the muttonheads newest addition and shows up when you’re home alone. Totally dazzled by him and his wings you ask to touch them, he’s surprised but recovers and says yes and starts flirting with you. Love your writing! =)

Request: Can you do one where the reader is the winchesters sister and she really likes Gabe but she doesn’t think he likes her because she’s really nerdy and likes doctor who and even though she likes it she’s really self conscious about it but Gabe actually finds that really cute? And just really fluffy with selfconcious!reader? Please?

A/N: Gabe and reader aren’t dating yet, and she’s like a sister to the boys

Keep reading

Temporary Affairs

Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17  

Chapter o1. Mismatch

The chandelier crystals glistened under the natural moonlight that seeped in through the silk curtains of the restaurant.  Dressed in a simple lace black dress and dropped earrings, you waited nervously for your date to show up.  He was supposedly the heir of Bliss Communications, an enterprise that often did business with your father’s company.    

You sucked in your breath as a young man walked into the restaurant.  Shyly, you looked down at your clasped hands, waiting for him to take the seat across from you.  To your dismay he strolled passed you and sat down on the table preoccupied by another young lady.  Overwhelmed with embarrassment, you hid your face behind your long hair. 

Another few minutes passed and you looked at your watch to check the time.  He was late.  You scoffed and got up to leave.  No one ever shows up late to a date with _______ _______!  Stomping your heels, you grabbed your purse and jacket and headed over to the exit.  Just as you got to the door, you crashed right into the chest of a young man.  Apologizing, you immediately bent down to pick up your clutch purse but so does the man.  His fingers touched yours and you flinched back blushing.  He handed you back your belongings and bowed to apologize for the erupt collision.

You stared at him…well more like gawked at him.  He was tall – maybe at least a foot taller than your small figure.  He was dark, which complimented your milky complexion.  And he was…handsome.  You gulped, sucking back the drool that almost revealed your lust for him.  He smirked.

“You must be _______ _______ssi.  I am Kim Jongin,” he introduced, holding his hand out. 

Your eyes widened and your lips parted, forming an “oh” shape.  Kim Jongin…heir of Bliss Communications…but most importantly your future husband.  Hiding your internal excitement, you shyly took his hand into yours and shook it. 

“I’m so sorry, I ran into some traffic getting here…” he spoke and you immediately shook your head.

“You’re not late at all,” you lied, the anger you felt for his tardiness diminished completely.

The handsome heir pulled out your seat and you graciously sat down.  He took the seat across from you.  As a waiter walked by to take your order, you discovered yourself ogling at his attractive features again.  His hair was gelled up emphasizing his gorgeous forehead and perfectly arched brows.  If eyes could kill then you’d be long dead, for he had eyes that gazed into your soul.  And we haven’t even gotten to his lips…his lips were so plump and sexy…and kissable. 

He chuckled as you unconsciously puckered your lips. 

“We’ll have a Strangozzi al Tartufo Nero for this young lady,” Jongin ordered for you, seeing that you were too busy daydreaming. 

Embarrassed, you instantly unplugged yourself from your reverie.  You swore by the way he smirked that he knew you had been staring at him.  Internally, you face palmed.  Aigoo, _______, you’re thirsty I know, but did you have to be so obvious about it?!!! 

As soon as the waitress left, Kim Jongin’s smile dropped.  He crossed his arms and leaned forward.

“________ _______, 22.  Graduated from Seoul National University.  Daughter of Jung Eunwoo, CEO of Star Telecom,” he spoke as if you were a criminal.

You blinked your eyes, confused.

He chuckled mockingly, his voice cold and distant, “I don’t know what our parents have arranged for us but I have no interest in knowing”.

The young man sat back in his chair.

“Excuse me?” you asked, baffled by his sudden 360 degree change.

“Let me repeat myself once more in case I wasn’t clear enough the first time, ‘I’m not interested in marrying you,” Kim Jongin spoke.

What.

The.

Hell.

“E-Excuse me?” you managed to stutter.

“I have no interest in a damsel who dresses herself up like some porcelain doll waiting to be sold to the highest bidder,” he stated and you looked at him in disbelief so he added another blow, “and I like woman who are at least D-cups”.

Hul.  Who the eff did he think he was? 

You held onto your forehead to prevent it from hitting against the table.        

With clenched fists and flared nostrils you responded, “Excuse me, Kim Jongin-ssi.  You need my help, not the other way around!”                     

His father’s company was on the verge of collapse, not the other freakin’ way around.  Why the heck was this jerk making you feel as though you were asking him a favor?

 HUL HUL HUL. 

“I have no interest in using marriage as a means to advance a business.  That is my father’s idea, not mine,” he said firmly. 

You threw your head back in bewilderment.  This handsome guy was taking out his anger toward his father on you. 

Gritting your teeth, you said, “Well, then be a man and tell your father that!  Because for all I know he desperately begged my mother to let me see you”.

Fuming, you grabbed your glass of white wine and gulped it down. 

He laughed, took a calm sip of his wine, and insisted, “Are you sure it wasn’t your mother who feared that her daughter was too ugly to get married off?  You know you were…gawking at me a few minutes ago”.     

Oh.

My.

God.

Your mouth was permanently the shape of an “O”.  You wanted to rip his smug face off his head.  There was no way – absolutely NO WAY you were going to tolerate, much less marry this douchebag.  Grabbing your purse and jacket, you stood up to leave.

“Oh daebak, from that angle it looked as if you weren’t even an A-cup,” he mocked. 

I’m

Going

To

Kill

You

Kim

Jong

In.

Frozen in place, a billion gazillion curse words flooded your mind.  As you were contemplating your counter attack, a waitress walked passed you.  Without thinking, you grabbed the glass of water from her tray, turned around, and splashed it onto Kim Jongin’s face.  He flinched back surprised, but chuckled at your childishness.  Normally, you would have just left after that but seeing a smirk still spread across his face, you walked over to him, raised your right heel, and jabbed it hard against his toe.  He yelped in pain.  Suits him right.  With that, you turned around and trudged off. 

 

 

As you stepped through the front gates of your house, you were still fuming beyond boiling point.  Never mind that he was handsome – and tall – and dark – and sexy…he was a total asshole.  You cursed under your breath. 

“Welcome home Agashi,” the family maid greeted and you faked a smile at her.

Still grumpy, you ripped off your heels and threw them sloppily onto the shoe rack.  The maid laughed and tidied up the mess you created.  You stood back up and rolled your shoulders back a few times to calm yourself down before having to face your mother. 

“Madam, Agashi is back,” the maid shouted.

You hissed.  Argh, you just needed a few more minutes to fully digest what had happened before having to report to your mother.  Thanks a lot.  Thanks so freakin’ much.  You jokingly glared at the maid.   

A middle-aged woman walked elegantly down the stairs, dressed in a silk blazer and skirt.  Her hair was short and curly, framing her face perfectly.  You took a deep breath then feigned on a smile.

“Omma!” you called, skipping over to her happily.

“_______ah, why are you back so early?  How was your date?” she asked as she sat down on the living room sofa. 

Oh it was terrible.  The guy was hot but was a total douchebag.  He smelled like baby prostitutes and probably had fifty lovers of both sex.

“It was great,” you heard your voice automatically replied. 

“Oh that’s good.  I heard Kim Jongin-ssi is very polite and well-mannered,” she said, sipping some green tea.

You unknowingly snorted.  Your mother froze and looked at you questionably.  Woops.

Smiling widely you nodded and replied, “Mhmm, he was a total gentlemen.  He even showed me some pictures he took while doing community service in Africa”.

Pure bullshit.  Good job, ________.  Good freakin’ job. 

“That’s good to know, my dear daughter.  You know how important this marriage is for your father’s company.  If we help the Kim family while they’re in crisis right now, then we will gain a strong support system for the future,” she explained, patting your hand.

With a sigh, you nodded.  Even though you didn’t intend to ever marry that jerk, you’d have to at least fake it for a little longer.  But seeing the glint in your mother’s eyes made it all worth it.  Because if she was happy…well…nothing else mattered.   

Kim Jongin, you just watch.  You just freakin’ watch.  I will have you in the palms of my hands in no time. 

a/n: xD Hello my Little Unicorns!  So there you have it, the pilot chapter of this ridiculous drunk writing lOL.  And believe me when I tell you this is just the beginning.  Hahaha.  My Jongin feeeeels. kekekeke

Hope you guys enjoyed.  I think this and The Lucky One are my favorite stories I’ve ever written (this includes the stories I wrote that are not fanfictions ;p).  This one is just so silly and such a mood lifter when I have a bad day.  Hehe all laughs, no tears this time.  This is to get you ready for the sequel of The Lucky One because we all know that’s gonna require a few boxes of tissues ;p.    

If this story gets a good reception…I may write more comedy in the future kekeke…they’re funner to write than angst.  But either way, my dad still looks at me like i’m mentally unstable as i’m busy poking at my keyboard.  >3< i wubz you guise. 

Fic: She Almost Got Away With It

Rating: All ages

Pairing: Tentoo x Rose

Summary:

Tags: fluff (I swear I’m working on some less fluffy multichaps right now!)

Find it: AO3 link

Words: 1096

Notes: written for @timepetalsprompts weekly prompt: “It’s really hot in here and you’re really distracting.” This is my first timepetals fic! Yayyyy! (I hope I’m doing it right) BTW, the look of the Doctor’s repair swing and his goggles are the ones the Eleventh Doctor uses in “The Doctor’s Wife.” I always thought they were really cool, so I let Tentoo have them also :-) Unbeta’d so all mistakes are mine.

Also shout out to  

@goingtothetardis

because I took your template for rating/pairing/etc. and used it here since it was elegant and simple and I really still can’t tumblr yet. I’m happy to remove it or change it if you would like me to.


The Doctor was in his grungy “repair hammock-thing” as Rose called it, growing grumpier by the minute. Normally, he loved sitting in this quirky contraption; it was made of cables, an old harness, and a swing he may or may not have stolen from a playground in Ireland when he and Rose were on holiday a couple of years ago (and at the time he may or may not have overestimated his ability to metabolize alcohol in this new slightly human body). He was wearing his cool steampunky work goggles and tinkering away under the TARDIS console, which was his absolute favorite thing in the universe to do that didn’t involve Rose. He should be having a grand time, but he’d been down here for three hours and forty-one minutes and had been miserable for three hours and thirty-six of them. One thing after another kept complicating his repairs, and it was really annoying him. Two hours and three minutes in, he decided to try Rose’s ten-minute deep breathing exercise that was supposed to help him be more patient. The attempt had been the most boring twelve seconds of his life, and he continued his repairs just as frustrated.

The Doctor plucked a worn pair of pliers from the tool belt he wore and brought it up to a nest of tangled metallic wires. He carefully snipped a thin, frayed gold one, then swore as a spark hit the back of his hand for the third time in a minute. He drew it back, dropping the pliers and wincing at the metal-on-metal clang reverberating through the small space. Okay, that was it.

“If you’d just stop fussing, I could get this done faster and then your thermal regulation circuits won’t keep getting tangled!” He yelled. The Doctor felt the TARDIS’ instant and very stubborn response prickle in his mind and groaned. “No I can’t just ‘let them stay tangled,’ and you know it.” That was part of why this repair job was so unpleasant; with the thermal regulation circuits malfunctioning, the air under the console was stuffy and stagnant.

He and Rose had grown this TARDIS from a tiny piece of coral, the last link he’d ever have to the TARDIS he stole to run away from Gallifrey. She was precious to him in a way that he couldn’t express in words. Donna’s brilliant suggestion about shatterfrying the plasmic shell and such had indeed rapidly accelerated her growth. However, while the TARDIS may have physically been “full grown,” she was a sentient being who was still the equivalent of a child in terms of emotional development. Most of the time, the Doctor and Rose rather liked this; it was like watching their baby grow up. But as every parent knew, there were times when your little darling could drive you mad.

Wire after wire, cable after cable, the Doctor continued the tedious work of untangling the components that made up the TARDIS’s thermal regulation circuits and adjusting their positioning so they wouldn’t get tangled again. The TARDIS would give him the telepathic equivalent of a whine every time the Doctor hit a particularly challenging snag.

Twenty minutes later, he was wiping the sweat from his brow when he heard Rose’s panicked voice echoing through the console room, her footsteps heavy and frantic.

“Doctor! Doctor, what’s wrong?!” She was down the stairs to the repair area in a flash. What’s goin’ on? Are you okay?” He was about to reassure her that he was perfectly well, but she rambled on. “I was just gettin’ ready for bed an’ all of a sudden, a blarin’ mauve alert was throbbin’ in me head, so I ran down here.” Her accent, which had softened over the years, had returned with a vengeance, so he knew she was quite upset.

The Doctor was bewildered and slightly concerned over Rose’s distress. He hadn’t sent any specific messages through their telepathic link. He took off his heavy tool belt and strode to her side, gripping her upper arms and looking into her eyes. “Rose, look at me. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

Her eyes roamed his body from head to toe and seeing that he really was just fine, she took a deep breath and her whole body relaxed. “I’m glad everything is okay,” she said with a smile. “What was that alert all about, though?”

The Doctor didn’t even hear her question, because he’d just noticed what she was wearing, which happened to be the gorgeous deep purple negligee he’d gotten her on Fiegra Prime a few days ago. They hadn’t gotten a chance to, um, try it out yet.

Rose noticed his stare and smirked. “I told you I was getting ready for bed,” she said, her voice dropping to a smoky, seductive murmur. The Doctor smirked right back and leaned in to kiss her, but when their lips were just centimeters apart, he jerked back suddenly.

“Wait a minute. I didn’t send you the mauve alert.” His eyes widened in understanding and he moved his gaze to the ceiling. “Oh, nice try, girl. Well done. You almost got away with it, too!” He chuckled and shook his head.

Rose looked at him quizzically. The Doctor tried not to focus on the sheen of sweat that had formed across her chest brought on by the stifling air under the console. “Seems our dear TARDIS had a few ideas about how to get me to stop repairing her thermal regulation circuits,” he told Rose. “She made it really hot in here to try to get me to give up, and when that didn’t work, she tried to distract my by getting you to run in here wearing… that.” He gulped.

Rose laughed and gazed up at the ceiling herself. “Points for cleverness, but you’ve got to let the Doctor make these repairs, and you know it,” she said in gently chiding tones. The TARDIS hummed petulantly, but Rose then felt something like a resigned sigh come from the time ship. Rose scooped up the tool belt the Doctor had dropped when she came running in. “I’ll help you,” she told him, “and we’ll be done in no time.”

“Oh, no,” the Doctor said vehemently, pushing her back towards the stairs. “It’ll take twice as long if you stay.” On Rose’s confused look he clarified, “The TARDIS had the right idea. It’s really hot in here and you’re really distracting.”

Rose rolled her eyes at his saucy wink as she went up the stairs and back to their bedroom to wait for the Doctor.

Dance, Dance (Tenth DoctorxReader)

About: Ten taking the reader to a masquerade and getting jealous when a lot of guys want to dance with her, so he hogs her the whole time? As requested by my dear sarahekrull :)

Name:  Dance, Dance

Fandom: Doctor Who

 Author: Micia

Character: Tenth Doctor x Reader

Words: 1.661

Warnings: None


More One Shots

This story on AO3

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Imagine Being Taken By The Silence And The Doctor Arguing With Them To Get You Back

15. Silence in My 100 Theme Fanfiction Challenge

“What in the world could you want with her? What can she do that another person can’t? That I can’t!?” The Doctor growled, his eyes flaring with anger.

“Our plan requires (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Not you. She will bring The Silence and Silence will fall.” The grey creature’s voice made the Doctor’s skin crawl but he stood his ground. 

“I will get her back from you. I made a promise to protect her and I will not let you take her from me.” The Doctor fumbled his way backward towards the door, keeping his eye on the strange being.

“How? How can you possible think to defeat that which you cannot remember?” The Silence’s tone was unchanged but it almost sounded like it was mocking the Doctor’s pain.

Because I’m clever!” He yelled, stepping back out of the room until he felt the Tardis door, opening it. He tried to keep his eyes on the Silence but suddenly, it was out of view and the Doctor had forgotten what he was stumbling away from…

All he could remember was that (Y/N) was gone…and he needed to get her back.

A Place For Us To Dream || Journey’s End

Title: A Place For Us To Dream (63/65)
Rating: T
Summary: —Doomsday AU— What would have happened if the Doctor’s lever had been the one to slip? If the Doctor had been the one trapped in the parallel universe? Rose has to pick up the pieces and carry on in his place. After all, someone has to be the Doctor.
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jackie Tyler, Pete Tyler, Mickey Smith, Martha Jones, Donna Noble
Notes: This story was inspired by a number of things — namely badwolfrun trying to keep me entertained at work by sending me this ask, which became this graphic and this graphic made by MK, and subsequent discussions with MK and perfectlyrose. Enjoy!

CATCH UP: SEASON THREE || SEASON FOUR


Sarah Jane Smith had lived a good life. She’d seen the stars, traveled through time, she had good friends, a son she loved…

But that didn’t mean she wanted to die at the hands of the Daleks that had cornered her on the street.

“Exterminate! Exterminate!”

There was a flash of light, and two people appeared on either side of the car, blasting the Daleks. Sarah Jane scrambled out of the car, gaping when she realized she recognized the one who had appeared next to her door.

“Mickey?”

Mickey Smith grinned, pulling Sarah Jane into a hug. “Us Smiths gotta stick together!”

“Excuse me, hello,” the blonde woman who had appeared on the other side said as she walked around. “Jackie Tyler, Rose’s mum. Now where the hell is my daughter?”

Sarah Jane gaped at her for a moment before beaming. Oh this was just brilliant.

* * * * * *

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morninginsp  asked:

Twelve/Clara, Post LC, Clara is on the TARDIS full time and the Doctor has been more affectionate than in the past, but it's not until he takes her inter-galactic ring shopping that she realizes that the proposal in her bedroom for was MARRIAGE; fluff/smut ensues

The market on this planet was the same as the one on the last planet: jewel smiths, goldsmiths, smiths working in metals Clara couldn’t name with tools that ranged from the disturbingly invisible to the alarmingly primitive. The last market had been too flashy, too full of glowing technical things that were half-machine, half-jewelry, and Clara had made a face. The Doctor had snatched her hand– her hand, willingly taken, with his fingers laced through hers to boot– and run with her back to the TARDIS.

She was still in her nightie. Her nightie. Not that anybody seemed to notice or mind. There was no accounting for fashion.

This planet had a more subdued set of craftsmen. Craftspeople. Craftsbeings. There, that was the right word. The Doctor led her by the hand, fingers still twined with hers, through this market to a little shop in the back, where a woman was working with tools right there on a bench.

“I think you’ll like these better,” he said. “And they’re gold, not hypertitanium. Gold is good, I like gold. Handy against Cybermen in a pinch.”

Clara did like them better, though she still wasn’t sure why she had to inspect a lot of gold rings on Christmas morning. The sample the smith held up to them next was wider than many rings were, and had flat planes hammered around it. A dark red jewel of some kind was set into one of the planes, flat. A jewel? Hard to say what it was, because it looked liquid. Not ostentatious. Almost like it was part of the ring.

“Oooh,” Clara said, despite herself.

“That one?”

“Yeah.”

The Doctor nodded and turned to the smith. “We’ll take a pair of those. And we’d like them engraved. ”

The smith handed the Doctor paper and a pen. The Doctor drew one of his odd circular diagrams on the paper, more carefully than usual. The smith was doing something with her left ring finger, sizing it, but Clara didn’t pay any attention to it, because beside the circular diagram the Doctor had written 25-12-2014. The date.

Clara said, “That’s Gallifreyan writing? What does it say?”

“Your name.” He pointed. “And mine. Well, sort of my name.”

Clara’s hand went to her mouth. “You’re buying rings. And engraving them with our names. And the date.”

The Doctor drew himself up proudly. “Didn’t think I was the traditional sort, mm?”

Clara shook her head, hand still over her mouth. If she took her hand away she’d blurt something she didn’t want to blurt. The Doctor still looked happy. As happy as she’d ever seen him, ever, with any of his faces. The one with the floppy hair and the bow-tie and the chin, no matter how often he’d spun around while holding her, hadn’t ever had this expression on his face. It was deep and quiet and glowing. He was now peering at the jewel smith, who’d strapped a loupe to her face and had pulled out a tiny tool that looked like a dentist’s pick, only it had a tip of pure glowing plasma.

How had he decided to do this? Clara reviewed what had happened in her bedroom right before they’d run out to the TARDIS. What exactly had he said. He’d clasped his hands and stood up straight and asked her to come with him. He’d held out his hand, palm-up, and she’d given him her hand in response. She’d given him her hand. Oh. Oh. He’d asked her to– he’d asked her to marry him. And she’d said yes.

Her head went strange and her knees gave out. Clara went down to the floor.

“Clara!” The Doctor dove onto his knees on the floor next to her.

“Hey, you,” she said to him. She was grinning so hard her face almost hurt.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m okay. More than okay. Totally more than okay.”

His hand was under her elbow, bracing her as she got up. “What happened? Do you need anything?”

“I just– it sort of got to me, yeah? You haven’t even kissed me or anything and here we are–” She pointed at the smith working on the bench.

“Good point,” he said, and he took her face in his hands and kissed her. Right there in the shop, while the jewel smith smiled at them indulgently. The Doctor, the man who was not the hugging sort, had one hand in her hair and one hand on her waist, and his tongue in her mouth, and oh! That was what it was like to kiss this version of him. He smelled like bay rum and ozone. He needed a shave. Cool fingers on the back of her head. Lean and hard, holding her close, lifting her up on tiptoes. Clara made a sound, a sound she hadn’t made in a long time. The Doctor released her.

“Not here,” he said, and his voice was low and rough and he sounded like she felt. “On the TARDIS. After this. If you’d like.”

His eyes went wide in supplication again. Clara knew exactly what he meant.

“Yeah. I would.”

dirty-brian-deactivated20160711  asked:

Rose/TARDIS friendship? still totally femslash imo. <3

Rose trudged into her room, exhausted and muddy and sorer than she could ever remember being in her life. She and the Doctor had been caught in the middle of a storm while running from some group that they had accidentally mortally offended somehow.

The Doctor had emerged from the misadventure with only a muddy leather jacket and jeans to deal with, his mad grin and energy completely undiminished while Rose felt like someone had run her through a wringer.

She started stripping off as soon as the door closed behind her, intent on getting warm and clean and dry as soon as possible, hopefully in that order. She had just managed to get her wet jeans off when she saw the light in the ensuite start flickering.

Rose wrinkled her brow and was going to ignore it when she felt a bit of pressure in the back of her mind, like something was urging her to go towards the bathroom.

It took her a minute to remember what the Doctor had said about his ship being sentient but as soon as it clicked, she realized what was happening.

“Okay, this is a bit weird but alright,” she mumbled as she walked through the door and into the lavish ensuite. She flicked the lights on and sucked in a swift breath.

The large bathtub that she hadn’t actually managed to use yet (bit intimidated by it if she was being honest) was filled with steaming, fragrant water and there was a glass of wine sitting on the ledge.

“Ooh, you wonderful ship,” Rose cooed, patting the doorframe, not feeling the least self conscious anymore for talking to thin air. “I don’t know how you did this but I really don’t care. Thank you.”

Rose rinsed off in the shower for a minute before happily climbing into the waiting bath and starting to chatter about the adventure she and the Doctor had been on. The warm pressure in the back of her mind let her know that the TARDIS was with her and listening and, if she focused, she could get an impression of emotion from the ship. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It became a tradition of theirs to unwind after a long day of adventuring with a cuppa or a glass of wine. Rose would tell her all about the adventure and listen for her reactions. It all became even easier after the Game Station, easier to figure out how the TARDIS felt about things, easier for the ship to cotton on to how Rose was feeling.

When Rose was torn away, trapped in another universe, she didn’t just mourn the loss of her love and her home, she mourned the loss of her closest friend.

saving ourselves

Summary: All those years, all that history, and no one was even looking.
Pairing: Tentoo/Rose (mentions of Nine/Rose and Ten/Rose)
Words: 1228
Also On: AO3

A/N: Written for @ofstormsandwolves, who was a runner up in my tumblr awards. This sorta angsty idea came to me while I was working on something else, and I thought it would work perfectly for her open ended, “anything Tentoo/Rose” prompt. I hope you like it!
(Shoutout to @dialechotty for looking this over for me. Thanks bestie!)

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