get in my tardis

late. [imagine four]

“Shit,” I hissed, as I tried to budge the side doors open at the school. Literally if you’re one minute late, they lock.

I bowed my head in defeat and started my trek up to the main office where I would have to get my second tardy in the same week. The second tardy this week that wasn’t my fault.

The sign in process was quick and the secretary glanced at me in disappointment at the notice of my second tardy. “You know, if you wake up ten minutes earlier, you wouldn’t be late,” she scolded.

“Yeah, I know Mrs. Chapman. Thanks,” I fake-smiled, grabbing my planbook with a pass to his class. I took my sweet ass time walking to his classroom – I knew I wouldn’t get in any trouble.

I opened the closed door and tried to sneak in unnoticed but he had stopped the lesson to a halt and looked at me with amused eyes. “Nice of you to join us,” he smirked.

“I have a pass,” I said through my teeth, giving him my planbook so he can glance at it.

“Second tardy this week,” he chastised.

“It was out of my control, sir.”

His playful eyes darkened for a moment and I took that as my cue to get settled in my seat that so happened to be in the front row.

During the lecture, I rarely looked up from my notes. The margins were covered in doodles and calligraphy practice when he went on tangents (he tends to go on those a lot). My usual eager participation was absent during the forty minutes and class seemed to drag longer because of it.

When the bell rang, I gathered up my supplies as quickly as possible. “Ok class is dismissed,” he had said with finality, standing by the door.

I scurried out of my chair and tried to walk through the door. He held onto my backpack strap, gently yanking me back into him. “Not for you,” he said, and I scowled in response.

“I said I was sorry for being late,” I whined.

“Hmm, I believe you didn’t,” he corrected me, still waiting for his room to clear out.

“I’m sorry for being late,” I said as sweetly as I could. “Now can I go?”

“Where’s the fire? I just want to talk to you for a little bit in private,” he said, smiling my favorite damn smile. I pouted internally – I was really trying to put up a good effort to stay agitated at him.

When the last person mosied on out of the classroom, he shut and locked the door behind him. Luckily, he had a plan after his first hour and wasn’t deserting any students in order to talk to me.

“You seem to be in a mood,” he quirked an eyebrow.

I scoffed, plopping down in his desk chair, “You’re very observant.”

He sauntered over to where I was sitting and leaned against his desk, his domineering presence right in front of me. “What did I do?” I didn’t know if it was a facade, but he actually looked concerned.

“If you keep turning off my damn alarm, I won’t sleep over at your house anymore,” I threatened. “I’m serious this time – I have two, two this week and at least five since we got together.”

He broke out into a smile and pulled me out of his chair so he could sit down with me on his lap. “Do you really mean that?”

I melted into his arms and placed my hands around the nape of his neck, inhaling his beautiful scent. “Yes! I know it’s only your class that I have first hour but if I’m late one more time, I’ll get a detention.”

He kissed me on my mouth briefly. “Ok, ok, ok. I’ll stop turning off your alarm. You just look so cute when you’re sleeping and you don’t get near enough sleep you should be getting.”

“Gee, I wonder whose fault that is…”

“You’re quite snarky this morning,” he grinned, “I like it.”

“I’m sure you do, sir.”

“Call me that one more time and I’m not quite sure I can let you go to your next class, Miss.” His eyes held the threat as he licked his lips in anticipation. I know he wanted me to say it.

“As much as I would love a punishment from your capable of hands,” I palmed his hands in reference, “I must get on with my day. Mrs. Bates is gonna get awfully suspicious if I keep wandering in from your class with a pass.”

“Let them get awfully suspicious,” he murmured as he captured my lips with his. I kissed him back for a moment – the feel of his slightly chapped lips will never feel old. Seven months with this man and I still feel as more in love as I did two years ago when he first showed up to my high school. Never did I think I could stand a chance.

I sighed against his lips and pulled back, “I would love to continue on with this, but I really do have to go. She’s giving us graduation information.”

“One more month,” he smiled. “Then you’re all mine.”

“I’m already all yours.”


“ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴄʟᴀssɪᴄ. ɪ'ᴍ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ.”
- ᴛ ᴏ ᴍ ᴏ ᴀ ᴋ ɪ  “ᴩᴀᴛᴀ”  ɪ s ʜ ɪ ᴢ ᴜ ᴋ ᴀ

After their honeymoon the newlyweds return home...

Ester: “Will your parents be welcoming us?”

Edward: “Well I did send them a letter once we left. Knowing my mother we will either have the whole welcoming comity to greet us or no one at all. She never does anything half way.” 

Ester: “That’s what’s scaring me.”

Ester: “And it’s awfully large now isn’t it?”

Edward: “Largest building in the county. You’ll get used to it.”

Ester: “Wait. Don’t ring the doorbell yet.”

Edward: “It’s no use my dear. Best to get it over with. And my mother hates tardiness.” 

Sentence Meme: 51 Logan Echolls Quotes
Some will be more easily applicable than others.
  • That’s funny. It sounds a lot like my essay.
  • Wow Sugarpuss, you’ve certainly been a busy little bee.
  • Nice car. Wow, it must have been a huge cereal box.
  • I’m sorry, did that hurt your feeling?
  • As a rule, I like to start every school day with a hot blonde waiting for me in the parking lot.
  • You mean, like, if there were total silence? Let’s try to imagine it.
  • Not the ones made for walking? God, I love those boots.
  • I can’t take that I hurt you when all I want to do is protect you.
  • Oh, god. You know, when I dreamed of this moment, ‘I’ve Had the Time of My Life’ was always playing. Oh, what can you do?
  • Heads up, chests out, big smiles, ready? Ok.
  • I can’t tell you ok? But you have to trust me. He’s innocent.
  • Ask not what [name] can do for you. Ask what you can do for [name].
  • I thought our story was epic, you know. You and me. Spanning years and continents. Lives ruined and blood shed. Epic.
  • Annoy tiny blonde one, annoy like the wind.
  • I’m not going to see you for a week. That’s, like, a month.
  • Oh, this is gonna be good.
  • I’ve let her draw finger hearts on my upper thigh for the last 10 minutes, so, yeah, I get the stakes.
  • I am beyond tardy for my Physics class. And if I remember right, time travel is not yet possible.
  • Guess who I saw on campus today?
  • Saving the world one pointless act at a time.
  • Wrong answer. Would you care to guess again?
  • I don’t know. Maybe it’s like Brigadoon. Come back in a hundred years and it’ll be right back in this spot.
  • Get out of my house. You have a problem with [name], you leave. Actually, you have a problem with [name], you’re pretty much dead to me, so just, like, evaporate or something, I don’t know.
  • Frankly my dear… you know the rest.
  • Will I be returned in my current pristine condition?
  • Go ahead, screw your brains out.
  • O-kay… No more college for you.
  • Well, if she’s on the TV, she must be telling the truth.
  • You’re cute when you’re jealous.
  • Frankly, my dear… you know the rest.
  • Never underestimate the size of my cojones.
  • Just not like I loved her. It’s okay. No, you know, it kinda lets me off the hook, you know. I don’t know, I don’t have to feel guilty anymore.
  • Ah, you have that 'I’d rather be making out with a broken bottle’ look. Which if history serves, means you’re about to say something awkward.
  • Well, the joke’s on her: she came to borrow my video camera. The girl does love a snappy exit line.
  • Tu casa es mi casa.
  • My day is complete. [name] has accused me of evil.
  • You’re going to have to take my word for it.
  • I’m sorry it causes you so much pain. I’m sorry it happened, and I really love you, [name].
  • FYI, if the cuddling is the best part, he didn’t do it right.
  • I got it. No calling you Bobcat, no talk of milky thighs.
  • Ah, he’s a master debater.
  • Best thing about two days in jail? Two days worth of Ellen on the TiVo. That sweet feeling.
  • Come on, I’ll drive you home on the back streets.
  • Look, [name], can you, just once, save my ass without comment?
  • Sometimes I’m up all night, just thinkin’ about myself.
  • Well first, I’d just like to say the other, uh, nominees are all such wonderfully gifted criminals. And I wanna thank my agent and my publicist for always shooting me from the left side.
  • I tried calling you “Chuckles”, but it didn’t stick.
  • That’s what the female praying mantis says before she bites the male’s head off.
  • What, are we breaking up now? Do you want your best friend charm back?
  • Are we here to surf or swap hairdo secrets?
  • She was blonde, petite. Smelled of marshmallows and promises.

a letter to clara | doctor who

This is just a quick thing I made. The letter he’s reading is from a Doctor Who book - an annual type thing, I think, I’m not entirely sure.
Audio credit goes to… and I’d like to thank @brinatello on twitter for asking him to read it. My ears and heart will be forever grateful.

Here’s the transcript if you want it:

Oh Clara,

Clara, Clara, Clara. You can’t explain me in a book! I’m the Oncoming Storm. I’m an enigma. I’m Doctor Disco. I’m … slightly offended actually.

But I suppose, in a way, you do know all about me.You definitely don’t know how to get around the TARDIS or what my faces really mean. But you understand me. You’re bossy, and a control freak, and you’re brilliant. We really do deserve each other.

All of these companions … their memories and their letters and their notes. Their long days and their short lives. Their journeys with me might end, but my journeys with them never will.

I’ll put this back where you hid it, and I’ll pretend I never saw it. I’ll pretend there won’t be others. But know this: I’ll never forget you, my Impossible Girl.


I’m having a hard time replying or Retweeting to this (I think Twitter crashed at the moment), but I got this notification from Jane (givesmemoretime) telling me she put a Whouffaldi video together with audio of Peter reading the Doctor’s letter to Clara during Wizard World.

I am so touched by this. Knowing I did something and it caused another to make a beautiful tribute video makes me so happy! :)

Okay! So my (off brand, cheaper version) fidget cube finally came *screeches* so I decided to do a mini review for anyone who’s considering getting one (featuring a video of the cube and my tardis pajamas :P) I really, really like it, but I do have a few criticisms: it’s loud. I had been hoping to be able to bring it with me to school, but the clicking wouldn’t be allowed in that environment :( basically, 3/6 sides are loud, and 1/6 sides makes a noise that isn’t nearly as loud as the other 3 sides I mentioned. Also, the joystick side doesn’t move nearly as much as I was expecting, since it’s much more limited in movement than an actual joystick. Other than those problems, though, the fidget cube is super satisfying and perfect for the avid stimmer 👌 7/10 would recommend

I need advice: the local history museum is doing a costume event this month. Specifically, it’s cosplay and/or historical dress, which sounds awesome, but now I’m paralyzed by indecision. 

What should I be???

Bring Me Back, Part Two: Entanglement

WARNING: Depression (duh), character death (it won’t be a surprise), very mild language (nothing worse than I’ve written before), anorexia and self-harm (mentioned in the narrative but not directly seen), and Jack Harkness (definitely seen). This story might just be a little hard for some people to chew, so read cautiously. Also, just to help you understand the gravity, this is based off of real events in which I was basically this fic’s Jack Harkness.

Also, if I had actual drawing skills instead of just being a maker of tribal-looking paisley patterns, this would be the fic I would draw art for. SO MANY SAD DRAWINGS.

This MIGHT end up being four parts instead of three. I dunno. Shame on me.

More angst, but also some fluff at the end. But mostly angst. Original concept requested by @pianovata

In 1935, physicist Erwin Schrödinger created a theoretical experiment on a paradox of quantum physics, specifically quantum superposition. The experiment theorized a scenario in which a cat is held inside a steel box with a radioactive atom. Whether the cat lived or died was completely dependent upon whether the atom decayed (emitting deadly radiation) or remained stable. Since there is a fifty-fifty chance of either, as long as the cat remains in the box and therefore unobserved by another party, the cat is theoretically both alive and dead at the same time, because neither option can be confirmed or denied until the box is opened. Schrödinger termed this kind of experiment as Verschränkung, which means entanglement.

The Doctor screamed.

He went out. No, he really went out. Not to scream at the skies (well, that hadn’t been the plan), or to exact revenge upon Cybermen (been there, done that). He just went out. Exploring. The Doctor, as usual, but with just a bit more alone-ness than there ought to have been. But that was okay. He needed the alone, because he couldn’t handle togetherness quite yet. Not without you. He thought of going to see Donna and Wilf, but he dismissed the thought when he realized that they would ask where you were. Then they would be mourning too, not to mention that they would both fuss over him horribly. He didn’t want to be fussed over.

He ended up on a planet known for its long nights and amazing night skies. He had been there before, plenty of times, to see the famous stars that danced on blue ink. He had never brought you here, but he had planned to. It was where he wanted to propose to you.

A cliff-side in the middle of fall season was the Doctor’s preferred observation spot. Still warm enough to be comfortable but cold enough that you would have snuggled up against him for warmth. That’s what you would have done. He knew you would have. And you would have liked this place. And you would have liked stargazing with him, and you would have listened while he babbled random trivia about the alien constellations, and whether or not you understood it, you still would have made him feel like the cleverest man in the universe.

Would you have stayed awake all night? He had to wonder, even as he nestled into the soft grass that smelled like pine so that he could gaze up at the glittering sky. Or would you have fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder? And if that had happened, would he have stayed there with you until morning so that you could wake under the planet’s vibrant sunrises, or would he have carried you back to the TARDIS and tucked you in?

A tear rolled down the side of the Doctor’s face and got caught in his sideburn, tickling wetly against his skin. He harshly pawed at his face to rid himself of the sticky tear-track, but even as he did, his eyes stung with fresh tears that burned and welled up and out so that they could streak hotly against his skin.

His lip was wobbling, he realized. His whole face was folding, squinting, trying to rid itself of tears that burned his eyes and were too hot for his skin. The stars above him blurred and he turned onto his side and curled into the fetal position, pressing his face into his sleeves.

“Stop it!” he gasped harshly on a sobbing exhale, humiliated as the tears poured freely and made his sleeves damp. “Stop it, damn you!”

The TARDIS sang a mourning song and the Doctor screamed.

Out, said the TARDIS, out, out, out, out.

“No,” snapped the Doctor, scratching at the stubble on his chin that had grown unchecked in his negligence. “No.”


The Doctor threaded his fingers through his limp, un-groomed hair. His tie was askew, falling off, his clothes were rumpled and unwashed, and there was still blood on his jacket from where you had gotten a nasty cut on the forehead and he had used his jacket to stop the bleeding. He hadn’t meant to let himself fall so completely to pieces, but it had just been so easy to forget, especially without you there to remind him. He hadn’t eaten since… before. Before when, he wasn’t sure, but it had been long enough that the hunger pains had stopped and he no longer felt it. The empty space in his gut was gone, too. It had tightened up and swallowed itself. The idea of eating made him fell a bit sick.


“No, you stupid machine.”

He had been doing better. He really had. But his most recent breakdown had left him worse off than before.


The TARDIS turned on every single alarm that she had until the Doctor was forced to leave in order to escape the noise.

Her name was River Song. When she saw him, she gasped, pressing her hand to her painted mouth as her eyes filled with shine. It was pity and it was terrible and the Doctor hated it. He knew he looked a fright. He had shaved, yes, and gotten his suit into halfway-decent shape, but the shadows under his eyes were dark, like he had taken a few hits, and his skin was pasty and clinging and that the hollows of his cheeks and the spaces between his ribs had drawn in, making him look like he ought to be on a mortician’s slab.

She hugged him, held him close, and he struggled away. He was not for her. He was for you. She didn’t get to hold him that way. And it hurt. Her hands traveled down his sides, stinging the red lines where he had dug his nails into his skin and dragged them across the dipping planes of his sunken ribcage.

That wasn’t the worst part of their meeting.

Professor Song whispered a name in his ear, and it was your name. The secret one, the Gallifreyan one that he had given to you when he decided that he wanted to marry you, the one that he whispered in your ear like a prayer, the one that he taught you how to say so that one day you would have an easier time pronouncing his true name. (Because he wanted to tell you, he wanted, he wanted, he wanted.) She shouldn’t have said that name, it wasn’t for her, and hearing it on the lips of someone other than you or himself made his empty gut twist painfully.

How do you know that name?" He was on the edge of the Oncoming Storm, right on the edge, waiting to fall and become rage and fury incarnate. It would be so easy. He was already falling. "How the hell do you know that name?!”

She smirked at him even as she prepared for her own death (and she was just like that, wasn’t she, that brokenhearted creature who prodded at the empty spaces of his body and just knew?). The death that should have been his. The death that he wanted. She was taking it like she expected no less. "Shouldn’t I know it?“

"That was the name I gave her,” he snarled, torn between hate and despair as she stole a secret that was his but then took it to her early grave of sacrifice in his place. "No one else knows that name, no one!“

She knows it,“ River said.

"She’s dead, damn you!”

There was a great deal of fuss after that. Handcuffs were definitely involved. He insisted, screamed, that time could be rewritten, that this could all be undone, that she could live if only she would just listen to him, but she didn’t listen.

“River, NO!”

“Goodbye, sweetie. You’ll see me again.”

She didn’t listen.

The Doctor didn’t like interventions. They were usually helpful to him, in the end, but while they happened, they could be very unpleasant and certainly unwelcome. Especially when they came from people who cared more about him than they cared about his privacy.

And if there was one thing Jack Harkness didn’t give a darn about, it was privacy.

“You’re a mess,” Jack said. He was in Captain Mode, the Doctor noticed with a painful prickle of irritation running up and down his spine and around his torso. “What the hell, Doc?”

“Get off my TARDIS,” the Doctor muttered, pulling away.

“Your TARDIS called me,” Jack said, tone not allowing for any measure of nonsense. The Doctor scowled, but Jack frowned right back at him. “I thought you were in trouble. I didn’t think you’d be this.”

The Doctor swayed on his feet for a moment, empty and cut under his suit. He felt scabs break and weep thin creases of blood into his skin, following rusty trails of blood that had run and dried in the days before. He reeked of blood, and it made his head spin and he flung himself forward, knocking into Jack’s side.

Jack took the blow and didn’t fall. The Doctor had no strength, no weight, and his whole body falling against Jack was nothing to the captain. The Doctor bit and scratched uselessly, trembling fists batting at Jack, while Jack wrapped one arm around the Doctor’s skinny middle and hauled.

“I’m not your punching bag,” Jack grunted, slapping the Doctor’s fists away as he dragged the smaller man out of the console room. “Just because you’re angry. Where’s your girlfriend, huh? Because if you tried to dump her for her own good, we are going right back and getting her, mister. Pray that she takes your miserable ass back after all the bull you’ve put her through.”

The Doctor whined like a broken electronic shutting down, curling his fingers into the captain’s coat.

“C'mon. How long has it been since you ate?”

“Dunno,” the Doctor murmured.

Jack kicked the door to the kitchen without waiting for the TARDIS to open it, dragging the Doctor at his side as the lights flickered on, dim and gentle. The Doctor dropped limply into a chair, supporting himself on the small dining table, while Jack pushed him into a position that might be more comfortable. He gripped the Doctor’s jaw gently, examining the hollowed face and cringing at what he found.

“You’re dehydrated,” Jack said sharply, scolding, like a worrisome mother who had caught her child playing in the snow without a coat. The Doctor didn’t respond.

The Doctor choked when Jack pressed something into his mouth and suddenly there was water, cold and crisp and filling his throat without being invited. He gagged, spewing water back up and allowing it to dribble out the side of his mouth, before his body suddenly remembered what water was like and how much he needed it. He swallowed greedily, burning his unused throat before soothing it with cool softness. Jack dabbed the spilled water off of his face, gentle, gentle, gentle with the spindly leftovers of what was once a great man.

“What happened, Doc?” Jack asked when the Doctor had finally had his fill of water. The Doctor huffed out small puffs of breath as the water soothed his insides, like a wash over a dirty floor. The dust in his systems was being cleared out.

“She’s gone,” the Doctor rasped.

The color drained from Jack’s face. His mouth opened, closed, opened again, and gasped silently like a fish as his knees trembled. He shook once, violently, before he reached out and gripped the Doctor’s bony arm with all the force of a vice. The Doctor whimpered and Jack immediately released his hold, snatching his hand back like the Doctor’s arm had become a snake.

“… How?” asked Jack.

The Doctor exhaled heavily. “Cybermen.”

Jack hissed angrily. “Did she… did she become one of them or did they… did they delete…?”

“I don’t….” The Doctor curled even further into himself than he already was, drawing his knees up to his chest. “I don’t know.”

At this, Jack stilled. He tilted his head to the side, eyes lighting up oddly. “You don’t… know.”


“You mean you didn’t see her die.”

“They took her away!” The Doctor snapped. “She couldn’t have escaped, she-”

“Nuh-uh!” Jack cut the Doctor off, jumping a little bit on his heels before he knelt face-to-face in front of the Doctor. “So in all likeliness, she’s dead.”

The Doctor snarled.

“Okay,” Jack continued, “but you didn’t see-”

The Doctor rallied strength that he shouldn’t have had and smacked Jack across the face.

“She’s dead, Jack,” the Doctor whimpered, withdrawing as Jack rubbed the red side of his otherwise perfect face. “She’s dead and I don’t know how they did it but I know it hurt her and I know she was afraid and I know she probably died wondering why I didn’t come to save her and I don’t want to know any more.”

Jack stared. The Doctor stared back, brown eyes unable to shed tears.

And then a small smile graced Jack’s face. “Now, Doc, I’m surprised at you. You’re always talking about what a superior Time Lord you are, but you didn’t think of Schrödinger’s cat. Shame one you.”

The Doctor blinked rapidly. “What?”

“Schrödinger’s. Cat.” Jack booped the Doctor on the nose. “Y'know. With equal chances of death and survival, the cat is theoretically both alive and dead as long as it remains unobserved?”

“I know what Schrödinger’s Cat is, Jack, but I don’t-”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Jack scolded. “You didn’t see the cat. The cat is dead, but it is also alive. And this would be completely inapplicable, however… I have a Vortex Manipulator, and you have a big Time Machine. Schrödinger would be insanely jealous.”

Jack jumped up to his feet, bouncing as he went, and snatched a banana off of the counter, which he tossed to the Doctor. The Doctor caught it, barely, and couldn’t seem to decide if he wanted to look at Jack or the banana.

“You eat at least three bites of that before I get back,” Jack said firmly, pointing at the banana.

The Doctor cocked an eyebrow at the captain.

“No arguments,” said Jack. “I assume the coordinates of the tragic separation are still in the TARDIS computer?”

The Doctor nodded.

“Good. Off I go, don’t wait up for me, and please eat something. I would hate to have to force-feed you, but that doesn’t been I won’t do it, Doctor!”

And then Jack bolted from the room, leaving a very confuddled Doctor behind with no clue of what was going on. And a banana.

Mine Now, Mine Always

A/N: This is a drabble request from @sandlee44 for my 100 Follower’s Celebration.  She requested a jealous, smutty Dom!Dean.  I hope you like it.  Feedback would be much appreciated!  I am considering a series similar to this and would love to hear if it’s something you guys would want.

Pairing: Jealous Dom!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 853

Warning: Dom!Dean, Smut

Keep reading

Last night I posted on ENAIB - and here - about how I’ve seen GotG2, and I got a MASSIVE response, but not the one I was after.

A lot of people where like, “how come you’ve already seen it! It comes out on the 5th May here!” Or “wow, couldn’t even wait for it to hit cinemas.”

… No guys, I live in this magical part of the world that’s called: Not-America. More specifically, Sydney, Australia. It’s already out here. I didn’t cheat, or get my hands on an illegal copy, or hijack the TARDIS. I’m simply not an American.

anonymous asked:

IIAAT for written or typed lists to make things much easier? Like, if I have several different assignments due this week, I write or type a list. If I don't do that, consciously, it's like a brick wall, almost, to whether or not I can start. Is that an autistic thing? (You don't have to tag the signature, its for me to recognize when it gets on my dash) - Tardis Blue Snake

Yes. Autistic people tend to do better with visuals. This typically has to do with executive dysfunction which can make it difficult to hold lists in our heads. For most autistic people, it is easier to complete tasks if there is a written list rather than trying to work from memory. 


File It Under Unfinished Business

Fanfiction Contest Winner 2016

written by @badismyname

“Let me get this straight,” The Doctor is looking at you intently with those big brown eyes and adjusts his tie. “You just let it in?!” He points his arm emphatically at the Tardis door. “What if it gets caught up in something? Or gets lost?”

All you can do is wince at his tone of voice and look embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to. I heard a noise, I thought it was you. I just opened the door a sliver to peek out and then it ran in…” Your voice trails off and you give the Doctor the most innocent look you can muster. His eyes soften at the corners and he quirks a small smile.

“We’ll just have to find it then, won’t we?”

Phew… he wasn’t actually mad. You’ve seen the Doctor upset or sad, he could be dealt with then, but when he was mad you didn’t want to be on the receiving end. As many Daleks would attest if you could get past “Exterminate”.

The Doctor’s look turned more mischievous and he’s placed an index finger on your breastbone. “I’ll help you find it. But you let it in, so you have to catch it.” He removes his finger leaving tingles behind and you’re breathing quicker than you were before. Damnit, he has such an affect on you. Hopefully he won’t notice. You glance at him to check. His hands are already stuffed into his pockets and he’s strolling towards the stairs. “Come on. You’re not going to catch it standing around like that! Did you see which way it went?”


“Well, always up for an adventure, me.” The Doctor shrugs, dances down the stairs then out of sight.

Follow the Doctor, please. You will your legs to take steps forward. It was just a finger!

The Doctor calls back to you, “Did you happen to see what color it was?”


He sounds far off already but you’re sure that you hear him mumble, “Why does everything else get to be ginger?”

You follow the sound of clomping trainers and find him staring at a wall panel. It looks pretty innocuous to you but the Doctor whips out his sonic screwdriver and starts to scan. The blue light and familiar sound reminds you of the first time you met the Doctor. You smile inwardly. It seems like only yesterday he invited you into the Tardis. Yesterday and a million years ago. Almost quite literally.
You snap out of your reverie, quickly focusing your gaze back on him. Like always, he is still in his own mind trying to understand why the panel was panel. You can only speculate.

“Something wrong Doctor?”

He turns his head, squints an eye at you. “This panel is different. Different color, different texture.” He licks the panel. “Different taste. Why is this panel different from the rest?” He’s standing up straight now, pointing at the panel, looking at you for an answer.

“It looks that same as the others to me. Maybe you repaired it and don’t remember?” You offer, eyebrows raised. You purse your lips speculatively.
Did that really just happen? You are very sure the Doctor just looked you in the eye then at your lips then quickly looked away.

Now you’ve never said anything to the Doctor about the feelings you have for him. You weren’t sure if the feelings were mutual which is why you didn’t. That look though. Maybe you are thinking too much into things. You file that look under unfinished business, a file that was getting fatter by the day. Time for that later. You’ve got something to find and no time to think about odd looks from the Doctor.

He looks back at you and slips his screwdriver back into his suit pocket.

“Hmmm, I don’t trust things that don’t taste right. Especially when they’re in my Tardis.”

Trying to keep the Doctor from getting distracted again you grab him by the hand and begin tugging him down the corridor. “Come on, Doctor! Let’s get back to the weird tasting panel later. Right now, we’ve got a cat to find!”

You’re certain when you took the Doctor’s hand he smiled a smile he thought you wouldn’t see.

“Puss! Here puss!” The Doctor calls. You were both shouting down corridors looking for the small ginger cat that you’d accidentally let into the Tardis. He’d let your hand go a few junctions back somewhat reluctantly. You can still feel his warmth and the butterflies in your stomach from his close proximity. Thank your DNA you weren’t prone to blushing, you would still be red now if that were the case.

“Maybe we should go back to the control room? I don’t think it got this far into the Tardis and cats have a good sense of direction. It’ll not want to stay once it realises we don’t have any food.” You advise but the Doctor’s not even looking at you. He’s wandered ten feet away and is glaring at another wall panel. He’s definitely not just curious this time and now he’s licked it. And again. You really wish his tongue didn’t get around so much. Being jealous of inanimate objects was not very becoming.


He turns to you and points his sonic at the panel in an off-handed gesture, “This panel is exactly the same as the other. Same color, texture, and taste. They match only themselves and not the rest of the wall panels.” The Doctor starts pacing a little and runs his fingers through his already disheveled hair. “You could be right. I repaired it and I just don’t remember. But two that I don’t remember is more unlikely. If we find a third…” He says, walking down the hallway looking intently at walls, feeling each panel in turn.

“What about the cat?” You ask, following, taking a quick look at the panel the Doctor claimed looked different. It looked the same.

Focused on a panel and stroking his chin the Doctor says, “The cat…will…have…to wait.” He takes your hand in his and whisks you back the way you came.

You finally get back to the first different panel. You, regretfully, let go of the Doctor’s hand to steady yourself and catch your breath. He’s distracted by the panel. He’s so intense yet curious. That face makes your heart melt. While you’re busy being dreamy eyed and melty, the Doctor’s got your hand again running down another corridor in the opposite direction of the last. He’s looking more quickly, he now knows what he’s looking for. It’s really hard to concentrate on helping when he’s so close. His hand is warm but dry. Fingers long and thin but strong. You wanted him to do things with those hands. Feel his fingers on your cheek, his thumb sweep across your lip.

“Ah ha!” yells the Doctor, all teeth and eyes, and he stops up short. You very nearly run into him. He’s got his hands on the panel now, nowhere near you. Maybe he and the panel should get a room. You cross your arms, you look at the panel then back at the Doctor.

“I just don’t see it, Doctor. They all look the same.” You say crisply before you realise how childish you sound.

The Doctor stands up perfectly straight and doesn’t seem to notice your snark.

“You’re looking but you’re not seeing!” He gestures with his hands around his face frantically. Like the gestures could help you see. The Doctor really thought more of you than you thought of yourself. But you are sure they all look the same.

TRY harder. For the Doctor. You look back at the panel he had been inspecting and focus. The color was a bit different. More blue than the surrounding walls. So subtle that you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention and happen to be concentrating on the Doctor’s hands instead.

You place your hand on the different panel and one next to it. The blue panel had a slight ribbed texture to it where the regular panel was smooth.

“Taste it.” The Doctor says.

“Oh, no. I’m not putting my tongue on that. It’s different. I can tell now without licking it.”

“Myah well,” he rubs his neck, looking maybe a bit disappointed. “That’s three panels in my Tardis that are not of my making. Where did they come from?” (He’s got his crazed face on now.) “Why are they here? Who put them there? Why are they almost exactly the same but different enough for me to notice if I just looked a bit harder?” The Doctors head snaps around. “And would I have found them if we weren’t looking for that cat?”

“Maybe we should find out how many more of those panels there are, Doctor?”
“Right then. Allons-y!”

There were fifteen blue panels set oddly about in the walls of the Tardis.
Once you put your mind on the task and away from your infatuation with the Doctor you were pretty helpful. Being helpful to the Doctor made you feel good. He’d held your hand three more times and he’d talked you into licking a wall. Even though you were concentrating on being helpful, you couldn’t quite turn all your feelings off. That worked to his advantage, not yours. Hence the wall licking. Damn him and his stupid eyes.

The wall did have an odd taste. Like rotten eggs or sulphur. Through all your panel investigating, you still hadn’t found the cat. You tried to get the Doctor call it Heathcliff instead of the cat but he refused. He said he would call it by it’s name when the cat gave it to him. Because he spoke cat. The know-it-all.

There didn’t seem to be any connection in the positioning of the panels in relation to each other, the Tardis, or in the collection of oddities they contained. They were made of the same material the other panels were made of according to the scans he’d done. Now back in the control room, the Doctor was leaning over the console speaking out loud mostly to himself trying to make sense of it, ticking (which slowly turned to banging) off each thought.

“Sulphur, blue, textured….fifteen. Four evenly spaced down one corridor. Two facing each other. One close to the control room. Five at the ends of five separate corridors. And three in dead ends. Where’s the connection!?” The Doctor is looking flustered and he kicks his foot against the floor. You wish you could help him but what could your puny brain possibly conceive that a 900 year old Time Lord couldn’t?

“Maybe there isn’t one?” You speculate and it’s definitely a question not a statement.

He turns towards you and his eyes focus,

“What did you say?”

“I said maybe there isn’t one. A connection in relation to the Tardis. Maybe they’re just random anomalies.”

The Doctor takes three steps and has you by the shoulders. He’s shaking you in an affectionately excited way.

“Brilliant. You’re brilliant. Not the anomalies part but the random in relation to the Tardis part. You can’t get it all right but brilliant.”

Before you can smile at him for calling you brilliant, his lips are on yours. What seems like an eternity passes and as your body finally decides to respond and relax into the kiss it’s over. The Doctor’s pulling you back down the stairs into the first corridor to the panel closest to the control room.

You file that kiss with the rest of the unfinished business.

You’re breathless from running around rechecking all the panels. And from that kiss. The Doctor kissed you for being brilliant. Put that away for later.
Their positioning on the ship was random so he had to figure out what else connected them. All the panels you and the Doctor checked together, he noticed the texture was the difference. Each went in a different direction, created a different pattern. The one closest to the control room pointed up in an arrow motif. The two facing each other were horizontal lines. The four in the same corridor were swirls; two to the right, two to the left. The Doctor was checking the five at the ends of the corridors and he sent you to check the ones at the dead ends.

The first one you checked was a diagonal from left to right. The second was the opposite. You’ve been searching for the third dead end but it’s not where you remember it being. It was definitely 10 steps past the four way junction but it’s much farther down now. 30 steps. Huh. Maybe you missed counted. There had been a lot of hand holding going on at the time.

Walking up to the panel, you place your palms flat and feel the ribbing. Interesting. This one, following the pattern, felt like a teardrop. Pointed at the top, ballooning out at the bottom. You wonder what the Doctor would make of the panels. They were almost like a puzzle that needed to be put together. Maybe it was. You’ll suggest that to him when you get back.


As you turn to the sound, you see a little ginger cat rubbing it’s cheek against the corner of the entryway. You didn’t get a great look at it when it ran into the Tardis but now you could see how desperately cute the thing is. It couldn’t be more than a few months old and so fluffy.

“Oh aren’t you adorable. Come her kitty.” You try to entice it over with your fingers and a soft voice. It takes a few tentative steps towards you and attacks your fingers playfully. After a few moments of play, you scoop the cat up cradling it like a baby and scratch it on the head. While you are gushing over the little fuzz ball you think you hear the Doctor calling your name but it’s far off.

“Doctor? Is that you?” You call back down the corridor.

The Doctor turns right around the corner from the corridor on the left and his face contorts from frantic concern to wide with relief. He steps forward hurriedly, looks like he’s about to hug you but sees the cat. He takes your shoulders instead (a little put out).

“Where have you been?”

“I did what you asked me to do. Checked the panels and I just so happen to also find the cat.”

“But you’ve been gone for five hours.”

“Well that doesn’t make any sense. I couldn’t’ve been more than half an hour. You told me to be quick.” You say a little defensively. You had two tasks and managed to kill two birds with one stone in no more than 30 minutes. You were sure. He still had his hands on you and his eyes now looked worried.

“You have been gone for five hours….I was very worried about you.” He says quietly. You can feel the tickle of his breath on your cheeks, his lips are so close to yours. The Doctor’s eyes are pools of dark water you’re drowning in and you want to. Maybe now was the time to bring up that unfinished business. Better he should know than not, right? Either way he felt, he would be more conscientious about how he acted towards you in the future. That could mean no more random you’re brilliant kisses but it could also be the exact opposite. You can make the choice. Break the surface or let yourself sink deeper…

“I think it’s a puzzle.” Coward.

“What?” His hands drop away from you.

“The panels, I think they might be puzzle pieces.” 

Just like that, the magic was broken. He is back to pacing the corridor thinking about what you’d just said.

“Let’s get back to the control room. I need you to tell me what those other panels look like and see if your theory is correct.” The Doctor says sternly walking back the way he came. “Bring the cat.”

Crowley. The Doctor said the cat’s name was Crowley. You would know if you spoke cat. The name sounded familiar but couldn’t quite remember where from. You explained to him in detail what your panels looked like but before he could tell you about his five he got distracted. Now, he was on the floor playing with tiny little Crowley looking the definition of adorable. If you looked up the word in the dictionary there would be a picture of the Doctor playing with a ginger kitten. It bounced around his ankles chasing the loose laces, catching them and trying to run off with its prey only for the lace to rebound back home when it reached the maximum length. The Doctor was laughing and his eyes sparkled with delight.

“Oh we’re just going to have to keep you, won’t we? You brilliant little thing.”
The Doctor scooped up the kitten, looked up at you his face full of child-like wonder, “Shouldn’t we?”

“I think Crowley would make a great addition to our family, Doctor,” you say smiling at him from a few feet away. You would have liked to be sitting closer but the view was better here and you could more easily hide your staring.

“Do you mean that?” The Doctor’s face turned a bit serious. He stood, kitten in hand, suit crumpled from his time on the floor.

“Of course! Every Tardis should have a cat.” You chuckle trying to soften that look but it turned even more serious.

“No. Not that. The part about us being a family?” He looked down at Crowley and his voice was quiet. He was so uncharacteristically quiet you weren’t sure what to do. His shoulders shook a bit and when he turned his head back up to you there were tears glistening in his eyes. “I was so worried about you today. I couldn’t even imagine what had happened. I yelled your name and you didn’t answer. I was about to start tearing out walls before I finally found you.” He set the kitten down on the console (you note that it promptly found a warm spot near the center and fell asleep) takes a few steps towards you before stopping within arms reach. “You are like family to me.”

Now it’s your turn to look down.

“Sure, sure. Like a kid sister, right? That you have watch over, protect.”

He puts a knuckle under your chin, thumb just below your lip and lifts your face to look at him. “Not like a sister. Did that kiss not mean anything to you?” The tears in his eyes are on the verge of falling, his heart is wide open.

If only you could’ve seen inside his head. All that unfinished business you filed away for later has been tossed into the air of your mind now and you don’t know where to start. The looks, the smiles, the hand holding, the kiss. He was trying to be subtle, feel you out. The Doctor’s thrown caution to the wind and he’s looking at you with those deep dark orbs waiting for an answer. You’re finding it hard to take a deep breath. The Doctor’s seen so much, he carried so much sadness. He’s laid his heart on the table with a few words and a look. You always hoped but never dare say and now he’s giving you your chance because he feels the same and doesn’t know. The Doctor wants you and he doesn’t even know you want him back.

Say Something! Anything! Start Somewhere. Anywhere.

“Everything. That kiss meant everything to me.”

The Doctor’s hand slides to your cheek, his kiss is soft and sweet. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You can feel the muscles of his back through his suit. A little moan escapes your lips. The Doctor returns it with what could only be described as a growl, and the kiss deepens.

Unnecessary questions start to pop into your head. What about the weird panels? What about the time lapse? What about the cat? SHUT UP! You are just going to have to figure that stuff out later. The Doctor will remember too, eventually. There are much more important things going on right now that need all your attention and you did not plan on letting anything interrupt this moment.

I am absolutely delighted by this fic. There’s marvelous romantic tension, which is probably one of the best things to have in an imagine, or in any story with romance, really. Using present tense is nice for emotional pieces, especially when they had suspense, so that was a great judgment call on writing style. The cat was a cute touch. The mystery of the panels is excellent, mostly because I don’t have a single clue of what the answer could be, which is one of the better options in mystery. In my personal opinion, there are two options in mystery that work really well. The first option is the one seen here, which is to give clues that don’t tell the reader anything until you get to the end, when the final connection is made. The other option is to give clues that are potentially misleading, so that the reader thinks they have it all figured out until you surprise them with a completely different explanation than what they were expecting. This is an excellent balance of mystery and romance, and I hope to see a continuation very soon.

I seem to be able to fly her. She taught me how. The Doctor said I’m the child of the Tardis. How ?

River Song (Melody Pond) Let’s Kill Hitler

Yes I have binge watching all River song Episodes again because I want to.

I think more than anything else, I’m really excited to see River Song back on the TARDIS for the Christmas Special. TARDIS will be reunited with her child.
The TARDIS, her thief and her child on an adventure again.

Only in Doctor Who fandom would you understand why that makes one quite sentimental.

One With the Wind

Title: One With the Wind

Imagine: Sam and Dean discovering you can control wind.

Request: Hi! Would you be willing to write a one-shot that the reader is Sam and Dean’s little sister but she has a big secret she can control the wind and her brothers only find out because she uses the wind to pin a demon against a wall to keep it away from the boys.

Pairing: Dean x sister!reader. Sam x sister!reader.

Warnings: Minor language.

Note: Sorry about the lack of stories! I’ll get another one out soon!

Tagging: @caroldanversinatardis@tom-is-in-my-tardis @jessicarossouw @brooklynnewsie1899 @evyiione

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Hope you enjoy it!

Originally posted by mypsychedelicsupernova

Originally posted by queenofhelldarlin

Another hunt. Another demon. Another day.

Being on the road for a good couple of hours called for a stop at the nearest gas station.

You sat up on the hood of Baby. Sam and Dean were in the store buying a few items and Dean had parked near the back so you didn’t have to worry about any peering eyes. You relaxed your muscles.

The wind was alive in this small town. The graceful energy carried the clouds for miles above your head. You could feel it giving you hope. A feeling that you couldn’t explain.

You still hadn’t told your brothers, the only family you had, about what you could do. You were able to control wind. This force of nature was yours, but being a hunter had its limits.

You never used it on people, unless you had too. If you weren’t a hunter, others might take you for a witch. One of the many reasons you kept your power a secret.

A hunter that was able to control wind.

What rumors that would spread.

You had debated so many times on what to do. Tell them. Not tell them. You threw your head back in frustration. You let out a groan.

You turned up toward the sky. The sun warmed the hood, providing heat for you. The bright rays shone down on you, attempting to cheer you up.

Your time was cut short as you saw your brothers round the corner of the store. Here we go.

“(Y/N)! Duck!” Dean yelled out as he raised the bottle of holy water, aiming it behind you. You obeyed and hit the ground. The demon’s hiss is heard at the contact of the liquid and its screams filled the air as Sam stabbed it with the knife.

“Is that all of them?” Sam huffed and lowered his gun. He moved beside Dean and stood in front of you.

“I think so.” You huffed out. This hunt was especially difficult. These demons were in groups. Groups! Since you only had Ruby’s knife at the moment, you all had to stick together. That meant: absolutely no powers.

Sam put the knife back into his jacket and Dean set the holy water down onto a old table next to him. Dean stretched his muscles and Sam looked around the inside of the old factory.

That’s when everything didn’t feel right anymore. You couldn’t relax. Your hunter instincts were still on edge.

You heard it beside you saw it. Another demon had waited for the right time to strike, and that time was now. When you finally saw it, two guns pointed at both Sam and Dean. Panic overtook you.

You forgot about the salt in your hands, it fell to the ground. You ignored your brothers crouching to the ground, in surrender, they wouldn’t be there for long. You ignored the demon, guns aimed at your brothers, but dark eyes aimed at you.

The feeling came out of nowhere. Raising your hands and twisting your wrists, you pushed them forward. Wind followed. The demon slid back a few feet, but remained still. It growled and shot the guns.

Fear shot through you. The feeling was still there, but stronger. Better. Your eyes went wide and you clapped your hands together. A visible force, almost, shot through the air and not only pinned the demon against the wall, but pushed the bullets back as well.

You fell to your knees, exhausted, as your brothers stared at you in shock. You didn’t blame them, though. You glanced up at them, hoping for kind words.

“Damn, who knew my baby sister was such a badass.” Dean laughed. You and Sam chuckled and they helped you up.

“So, I’m not in trouble?” You gave your best innocent face, and hoped for the best.

“We’ll talk about this later. For right now, Sammy.” Dean pointed at the demon stuck on the wall.

“On it.” Sam pulled the knife out once more. You sighed. Knowing what was coming, you glanced at Dean once more, expecting him to be watching Sam, but your eyes met his.

“Hey, don’t worry. We’ll keep this a secret. Just the three of us.” Dean winked at you.


Just called off because this weekend was great, but physically and socially and mentally draining and the only time I had to myself was when I was sleeping and I don’t think I’d make it through a work day and hopefully I won’t get written up because I’ve been tardy because of my car but it’ll be worth it.