martha and mickey

10

Didn’t anyone ever tell you there’s one thing you never put in a trap, if you’re smart, if you value your continued existence, if you have any plans about seeing tomorrow, there’s one thing you never, ever put in a trap. And what would that be, sir? Me. - Doctor Who (Happy 53rd Birthday!)

10

My problem isn’t that my favorite characters aren’t real; it’s that I’m not fictional. I don’t want them to be real. What I desperately wish is that I could be fictional with them. It’s not that I want them here with me in this mundane and ordinary world; it’s that I want to join them in their extraordinary one. (x)

4

Reblogging these together ‘cause I love them so much. The top one of the girls was done for me by @megabadbunny-art (check out her blog, it’s AMAZING!) and the one of the guys was done by my friend Jon and as a bonus I’ll throw in the youtube link to the video I made. Click below:

DOCTOR WHO CREDITS - FRIENDS STYLE

Phoning Martha Jones

Recently I was listening to The Doctor’s Daughter commentary, and RTD mentioned offhand that he originally wanted Ten, when waving goodbye to Martha Jones, to make a “call me” gesture. It was cut out because they thought it would undermine the solemnity of the scene, which was probably a wise decision, but now I’ve set up a new headcanon that the Doctor calls Martha and moans to her whenever he needs a Doctor.

“Marthaaaa, nobody wants to travel with me.”

“Is it because you’re a right misery and you never wash your dishes?”

“….probably. Is that shooting behind you?”

“Yeah, Mickey and I are being shot at by three hundred troops of Mire on a planet that’s in the middle of a nuclear war and rapidly losing oxygen. Can this wait?”

“But I’m lonelyyyyyy, Martha.”

“Oh my god.”


“Marthaaaa, my stomach hurts.”

“Did your voice change?”

“Yeah, regeneration, try to stay focused, Jones. Does that pink stuff you left in the bathroom work?”

“DOCTOR, NO, that’s my shampoo!”

“At least my stomach smells like grapefruit now. Do you pluralize grapefruit? Grapefruits? Grapefruiti?”

“Oh my god.”


“Marthaaaa, I’m being erased from existence.”

“New phone, who this?“

“Oh my god MARTHA NO”


“Marthaaaa, River can’t come with me to the grand opening of the Iron Maiden Tree Nursery in the year 6577 on the planet Woot, are you busy?”

“Who’s River?”

“She’s got the space curls of a god.”

“I’m in a jacuzzi. I’m not getting out.”

“Well, okay, can Mickey come? I think this dress would fit him.”

“He says no. He’s in the jacuzzi too.”

“You two hang out a lot, don’t you?”

“We’re married, Doctor.”

“Marriage. That’s a good idea. I should do that.”

“Oh my god.”


“Marthaaaa, I’m lonelyyyyyy.”

“Sorry, is this you having flashbacks to 2010?”

“No. I’m living on a cloud in the Victorian era.”

“You—okay, you know, never mind. Look in the bathroom cabinet, there should be some antidepressants in there. NOT THE—”

“Yeah yeah I know, I know, not the pink stuff. I’m not an idiot, Jones. Are you—are you chuckling?? Do I hear Mickey? Are you chuckling at something Mickey said???? Well you just tell him—”

“Oh my god.”


“Marthaaaa we just saved Gallifrey!/Marthaaaa we just saved Gallifrey!”

“Is that an echo effect?”

“No, there are three of us on the line. Hello!/Morning, Jones!/Wait, who are we talking to?”

“What! Mickey, get over here. Which of you is it?”

“The attractive one/the one who isn’t an idiot/No, really, who are we talking to?”

“That is so funny. Mickey, go tell them we’ve got three over here.”

“What? What?/Go tell who? Jones, who are you talking to?/Is this somebody important we’re talking to?”

“Your fourth through ninth incarnations say hello. They’re having tea with us.”

“WHAT!/We weren’t invited?!/Oh, this Martha Jones, I remember now.”

“The one with the Northern accent just said ‘oh my god.’”


“Marthaaaa.”

“Hello? Who is this?”

“It’s me, the Doctor. Why does everybody question who I am? Is it the voice?”

“Are you Scottish now? Blimey.”

“I regenerated—Clara thinks it’s because of Daleks, but actually I just ate the pink shampoo. Always lying. Never mind. Martha, I need you to look up dream crabs, all possible sources of them, what they like to eat, best means of transport, and what the capital of Denmark is. I’ve forgotten.”

“Doctor, I’m being attacked by Chumblies at a convention of masked lunatics, can this wait?”

“Well, I guess I’ll just crack into that new Ben and Jerry’s as I die from loneliness, a poor old man who can’t even get a friend to look up obscure alien fauna for him.”

“Fine. Mickey, give me your laptop.”

“Actually, no, wait, Santa just showed up. Never mind.”

*click*

Mickey: “Oh my god.”