season: eleven

“Ah! Yes! A fangirl! Hello there! Oh my what a beautiful creature you are! Look at that hair and those eyes! Blimey!? Is that what chins are supposed to look like?! ….Perhaps my next regeneration then…. What was I going to say..? Oh, yes! Travel? Now? With me? All of time and space? The box you say? That’s my spaceship! Trust me she’s a lot more than she seems! Now let’s go! Geronimo!”


To the person who requested this, I hope you don’t mind that I added a few characters. If you do mind, you can send me a message and yell at me if it makes you feel better.


“YES!” you screamed as the Doctor narrowly escaped the fire of the Santaran and because you hit the back of it’s neck and knocked it out. You’d never felt so alive in your entire life. The Doctor came back around the corner he went to hide behind. “Oi, you, you’d better begin to look after yourself.” you joked. 

“Why would I do that when I’ve got you?” he smiled, looking around the corner.

“What if I’m not around forever?”  

“Plan on leaving, do you?” 

“Don’t get too excited. Duck.” you said casually. 


“Duck.” you repeated as you raised your sledge hammer, mirroring the Santaran as he raised his gun. You spun around, whirling your hammer until you were behind the alien, bringing the same fate upon this one as the last, striking the back of his neck. 

“Oh, I love you.” The Doctor smiled as he stood and grabbed your face in his hands and pressed his lips against you yours in a hot, sloppy kiss. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” he furrowed his eyebrows, still holding you gently. You looked into his eyes and then kissed him like he had you. 

“I love you too.” 


“Why would you do that?!” he yelled, slamming the door of the TARDIS. 

“I saved those children!” you defended yourself loudly. 

“You could’ve been killed!” 

“Even if I had, those people still would’ve live. Isn’t that what it’s all about, Doctor?” you looked him in the eyes and he softened immensely but he was still angry. 

“You could’ve died.” he sighed. “I almost lost you.”  

“That doesn’t matter.” you shook your head, knowing where the conversation was headed. 

“Shall I take you home, then?” he asked. Immediately you started crying. You didn’t know it was even possible to cry that quickly. 

“What?” you choked. 

“You want me to take you home?” 

“No.” you shook your head, tear falling down your face. You saw how lonely he was. You knew what it meant to be alone, how it felt. You could never wish that for anyone, especially not your Doctor. “You want me to leave?” 

“No.” he shook his head. You’d never heard him be so sincere. “But they all leave. And I suppose, in the end, they break my hearts.” he said, looking down at his dirty red converse. You rushed across the control room, throwing your arms around him. 

“I’ll never leave you, Doctor.” you whispered. You felt his hearts beating fast and he took a deep breath, hugging you back. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 


“Oh,” he gasped. “I survived, brilliant! I love when I do that.” he smiled, sliding down to the floor. 

“Yea, me too.” you sighed sarcastically, finally able to breathe. The Doctor had gone out to inspect the area around you, saying he hadn’t been on the planet in a very long time and wasn’t sure it was safe for you to go out yet. He really only meant to be a minute but ended up taking several hours and you wanted to go looking for him but you were the only companion he’d ever had to follow the ‘Don’t Wander Off’ rule and stayed put in the TARDIS like he asked. 

“I am very sorry I was so long. Are you alright?” he asked, looking down at you as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“You worried me to death, but other than that, I’m just grand.” 

“You were worried about me?” he smirked. 

“You’re an idiot who gets into all sorts of trouble on a daily basis, of course I worry about you.” you laughed, smacking his stomach lightly. You both laughed for a moment before you both went silent, thanking your stars the other was there. He began to realize how close he was to dying, to being without you.  

“Do you know I love you?” he asked. You knew he did, he knew you loved him back but neither of you had ever said it out loud. It was always in the air, like a balloon that just kept filling itself up. And you both watched happily as it popped. 

“I do. I love you too, Doctor.” you smiled, taking his hand in yours. 


“Have you lost your fucking mind, you?” you screamed. “Let me go! They’re dying!” you kicked around as the Doctor dragged you back into the TARDIS. “LET ME GO!”  

“Alright.” he said simply and released you. You headed straight for the door but he’d locked you in. You beat and beat on the door but nothing happened so you gave up and slid down to the floor, crying. After he set the TARDIS on cruise control and you were absently floating through space, he came to sit beside you. 

“They’re dead because of me.” you sniffled. 

“No, they’re dead because of me. If anyone is to take the blame here, it’s me. You know how selfish I get, don’t you. Don’t claim what mine as yours.” he sounded serious but he wanted you to laugh or smile but you just stared up at him. 

“Doctor, why’d you do that?” 

“There was nothing you could have done.” 

“Then you should have left me there.” you snapped before you rested your head on his arm. 

“Can’t do that, you know I can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“I love you.” he whispered. He almost hoped you hadn’t heard it but he knew that you did. “I-I can’t loose you, Y/N, I love you.” 

Captain Jack Harkness-

“Jack!” you squealed, putting your hands on his as he lifted you off the ground. “Quit!” 

“Not a chance.” he smirked. you brought your legs up to kick them around and try to get free, giggling the whole time. You wiggled around before you grabbed onto his desk and leaned forward to pull yourself away from him. 

“Jack, let go!”

“Nope.” he kissed your shoulder. Your waist was held tight to his and he leaned over. “I can’t tell you what I’m thinking right now.” he whispered in your ear as he placed your feet back on the ground. 

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking, Captain.” you grinned and whispered something in his ear that was only fit for him to hear. 

“I love you.” he growled.

Vincent Van Gogh-

“It’s color!” Vincent shouted. “Color that holds the key! I can hear the colors, listen to them.” he moved across his living room, crouching in front of you, holding onto the arms of your chair. “Every time I step outside, I feel nature is shouting at me, “Come on! Come and get me, come on! Come on, capture my mystery!” he shouted, shaking your chair. 

You smiled, looking into his wild eyes. You loved when he got so passionate about things, showed he was still alive, he was capable of feeling good. You were silent for a long time, just looking up into his eyes, admiring the flame, until he started to loose his smile because you hadn’t said anything. HE was so insecure and he often thought you believed he was crazy and only hung around because you felt sorry for him until you said something only one full of love could say. 

“You have the most beautiful mind, Vincent.” you sipped your tea, only looking away from him for a second. “I only wish I could see the world around me the way you do. I couldn’t dream of living in a world so magnificent.” you whispered. 

“You don’t really think-” 

“I do.” you stopped him, kissing his forehead. 

“I love you.” he shook his head, smiling with tears in his eyes. “I love you so much.”

Does everyone remember the episode of Doctor Who with Vincent Van Gogh in it? That’s my favorite episode and I’ve been in love with the character since the first time I watched it. Obviously, I loved Van Gogh’s art before I even started watching Doctor Who but I just really loved his character on the show. I’ve never seen any fanfiction for him but am I crazy? I always fall in love with minor characters. I don’t know why. 


Does anyone else just really love him?


Requested by @fabulouspotatosister. I really wanted to make this an imagine for Ten, but I couldn’t find the right gif. Maybe I’ll to a version of this with Ten, someday.

There wasn’t any particular thought that dominated the others when you fell. When you slipped, there was a rather specific expletive that came to mind, but other than that, you were just surprised. No, more like shocked. Surprised was when the Doctor ran around the TARDIS in nothing but his bowtie that one day (as in, his bowtie and absolutely no other article of clothing whatsoever)- that had been a surprise. No, this was definitely more along the lines of shock, because you couldn’t quite believe that after everything else, all the monsters and paradoxes and temporal anomalies you had survived, that this would kill you. One little slip, and now you were on your way to going splat. And it was a long way down, too. Weren’t you supposed to die of a heart attack before you his the ground, or something?

Well, you supposed, feeling a bit too calm for someone who was about to die gruesomely, at least I had a good run. Besides, death was its own adventure, wasn’t it? Hm. The Doctor would probably be proud of you for looking at it that way.

Love you, Doctor.

The ground was rushing up quite quickly, and you knew that you would be dead before you could feel any pain. That in mind, you decided that this really wasn’t the worst way to die, especially since you had just saved a bunch of other people from falling off the bridge before you yourself fell off. It wasn’t half bad, really.

The sound of the wind roared in your ears, but it was suddenly drowned out by a wheezing, groaning, singing-


You were in the TARDIS, instead of in the air, and the Doctor’s arms were wrapped around you so tightly that you could barely catch your breath back. Not that you minded, because at that moment, you never wanted him to let you go again. The Doctor obviously hadn’t read you mind, because he pushed you off his chest so that he could turn you around and look you in the eye. You thought that there was suddenly far too much space between you, despite his face being only inches from yours.

He grinned at you, his smile relieved and shaky. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you rasped back, still a bit out of breath. The fear that you hadn’t let yourself feel as you fell was now taking a gallop inside your chest, forcing your heart to pound painfully against your ribs.

The Doctor must have noticed the way you were trembling in his arms, or maybe it was the fear in your eyes, because he frowned and said in a tone that was almost accusing, “You didn’t think I was gonna save you.”

“It didn’t really occur to me that you would,” you admitted. It really hadn’t. You were used to the TARDIS materializing right-side-up and on solid ground, not sideways in the sky. The idea that the Doctor could save you this way wasn’t something that you had imagined.

The Doctor didn’t look too upset, though, and you couldn’t bring yourself to feel guilty for not having more faith in him. “Guess I can’t blame you for that. C'mere.”

He pulled you to his chest and, oh, this was exactly where you wanted to be.

“You’re not allowed to die, you know,” he whispered against your ear. You shivered at his tone, which was both a plead and a promise all at once. "I’ve lost too many people. You have to stay with me. You have to.“

You smiled. Maybe you were only human, which presented all of its own problems, but the Doctor didn’t joke around about these things. You had no idea how he would do it, and maybe he hadn’t any ideas either, but you knew he would find a way for you to stay with him. Forever.

That was worth promising him that you would hold up your end of the deal, wasn’t it? "I will.”


get to know me meme

favourite friendships [4/5] - The Doctor, Amy Pond & Rory Williams (Doctor Who)

Hello, old friend, and here we are. You and me, on the last page. By the time you read these words, Rory and I will be long gone. So know that we lived well, and were very happy. And above all else, know that we will love you, always. Sometimes I do worry about you, though. I think once we’re gone, ‘you won’t be coming back here for a while, and you might be alone, which you should never be. Don’t be alone, Doctor.

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.’”


“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.”


Mickey: “Oh my god.”

Imagine waking up from a nightmare in the TARDIS one night. While you’re sitting in your bed trying to calm down, you hear the Doctor walk by outside and call him in. You admit you had had a nightmare about a few of the monsters you had confronted on your travels. The Doctor cuddles with you and explains that monsters are real, and you aren’t weak for having nightmares about them, but that he’ll protect you from them. He explains all this in a relaxing whisper until you fall back asleep.

“Monsters are real. And it’s okay to be afraid, but you don’t have to be. I’m here, I promise. I won’t leave your side. For as long as you need me, I’ll be here.”

Only One Heart

As requested by Anonymous. Enjoy, dear!

Eleven x Reader (Doctor Who)

Warnings: Angssssssssstttttttt. And also, silly dancing.

Word count: 1,498

“Why so glum, Y/N?”

The Doctor’s voice snaps you out your stupor; you had been staring at the ketchup dispenser for quite some time, leaning against the railing with your arms folded over your chest trying like mad to decide when exactly it was that these feelings developed. You knew he wouldn’t, maybe even couldn’t like you back, but that didn’t stop your heart from latching onto the strange man and his floppy hair, his gangly limbs, that silly bowtie. In fact, all that made him all the more endearing.

“Glum? Who’s glum?” you say, relaxing immediately despite how unnatural it felt.

“You’re glum,” he says, pointing his finger into the middle of your face. “You’re sitting there, staring at the ketchup, all… glum-like. So, the question is, why are you so glum?”

“I’m not glum,” you reply, forcing a laugh.

Keep reading

What they don’t understand about birthdays and what
they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also
ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and
four, and three, and two and one.
And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you
expect to feel eleven, but you don’t.
You open your eyes and everything’s just like
yesterday, only it’s today.
And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still
ten. And you are—underneath the year that makes you
Like some days you might say something stupid and
that’s the part of you that’s still ten.
Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your
mother’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of
you that’s five.
And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you
will need to cry like you’re three, and that’s okay.
That’s what I tell Mama when she’s sad and needs to
cry. Maybe she’s feeling three.
Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion
or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden
dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next.
That’s how being eleven years old is.
You don’t feel eleven. Not right away. It takes a few
days, weeks even, sometimes even months before you say
“Eleven” when they ask you.
And you don’t feel smart eleven, not until you’re almost
twelve. That’s the way it is.
—  Sandra Cisneros