tardis in the clouds

I was supposed to post this for the last day of the Eight and Fitz week, but I had some things to do (more about that later, probably). Here’s a scene from The Taking of Planet Five, where Eight tried to survive in deep space for a couple of minutes (after the TARDIS he was aboard disintegrated) in a thin cloud of ice particles.


Deep space, in a freezing cloud of water, dying by inches and by microseconds, is possibly the only place where you can literally crack a smile.

The Doctor beamed.


«Timelines shifted, and he knew this had been the endgame all along. “Rose, hold on! Hold on!” he shouted, but when she looked at him, he knew she’d felt the timelines too, and knew what was going to happen next.

The suction slowly lifted her body until she was stretched parallel to the ground. She screamed against the pressure, and the Doctor winced, knowing how much her hands and shoulders must be hurting for her to cry out like that.

Rose, love—hold on!

Their eyes met, and she readjusted her grip on the lever. I won’t let go, she promised, just like she had in the dream. I don’t want to leave you.

But they both knew it was an empty promise. Watching her fingers slip from the lever one at a time was worse than dying a thousand deaths. Rose smiled at him, but the Doctor could only stare in mute horror.

When she finally lost her grip entirely, time slowed, and the Doctor was vaguely aware that he must be slowing it down, trying to give Rose a way, somehow, to save herself.

“Rose!” he yelled, not wanting to see her drawn into the Void, but unable to look away from her.

The second before she reached the wall, Pete Tyler reappeared. Rose landed solidly in his arms and she looked back at the Doctor. I love you.

The Doctor focused on the bond, opening himself up to it so she could feel how much he loved her. Her answering love and sorrow reverberated back to him, then Pete hit the button on his hopper and they disappeared.

The suction slowly faded, and then for a few seconds he could actually see the breach weave itself back together before closing entirely. His bond with Rose pulled like it had before, but this time it tore completely, and he shuddered at the pain.

The Doctor’s breath came in heaving sobs. When his feet touched the ground again, he stared at the wall for a long moment, as if he could will Rose back into existence by focusing on the point from which she had disappeared. Then he walked toward it in a daze, not stopping until he was pressed against it, his hand splayed out flat.

The place in his mind where Rose was supposed to be was empty. His mind tried to reach across the Void to find her, but the breach was well and truly closed. There was nothing there; no answer from her, no brush of her warm, pink-gold mind against his. She was just gone, and the bone deep loss nearly brought him to his knees.

The emptiness in his head after the war had nearly driven him mad. Then he’d met Rose, and even before the Game Station, she’d filled some of the hollow places left by the loss of his people. Later, their empathic connection and bond had given him the telepathic communion he’d needed.

Losing her ripped open wounds that had barely begun to scab over. He stumbled back a few steps from the wall, his vision clouded. The TARDIS sang to him, and he turned around, letting her call him home.»

To Make Much of Time, by @chocolatequeennk (Chap. 37)


I intended to take a break from funky for awhile but realized it’s counter-productive. I’ve been going through a depressive slump for awhile now and when that happens, I withdraw from the world. I intensify my focus, which for a Ne is the WRONG thing to do. Shutting out external stimulation isn’t good.

Doing research on a character’s type last night, I ran across a couple of statements that resonated with me – one was about Doctor Who, and how he needs people because “bad things happen when he’s alone.” He becomes a different person (”You need someone with you, to stop you”) and gets into depressive slumps (remember the TARDIS on the cloud?). I can see where that is true in my life. I become my own worst enemy (and everyone else’s) whenever I don’t have friends, or a social calendar, or challenges, or things to DO, because I can’t dwell inside myself like an introvert can. I can’t entertain myself. I need constant, increasing external stimulation.

Do you remember that episode of Doctor Who, where the mysterious black cubes show up (”The Power of Three”)? The Doctor sets out to spend time with Amy and Rory at home. He’s all excited about it. This’ll be fun, right?! Real life is fun! Within hours, he’s bored. Once he’s cleaned the entire house, amused himself with bouncing soccer (”football”) balls off his knees a thousand times, and tried various other anti-boredom tactics, he’s literally going insane. He leaves. He can’t stand the boredom of mundane life.

That is how it is with Ne-dom. We romanticize and idealize boring elements of life in order to make them more passable – but the thrill wears off very quickly. And if we can’t share this life with other people, these ideas, these experiences, even this television show that’s blowing our mind, we get restless. We want more and know more exists, but it’s like – without people, without occupation, without constant newness, we become… something else. We fall back into our memories, which aren’t positive so much as negative. It’s not the awesome fun times we’ve had that come to mind, but our losses… our humiliations… our missed chances… we withdraw, our Ne receives nothing to feed it, we get dark and depressed and pessimistic. Or at least I do.

I’ve been in denial about this. I constantly assume my apathy or unwillingness to engage or single-mindedness is introversion – it’s not, it’s twenty years of an extrovert not using her Ne to the fullest of its ability, a Ne who is in prolonged mind-numbing depression out of solitude and/or loneliness, which in turn makes her refuse to be social and convinced the world cannot entertain her. A Ne who is utterly, painfully incapable of entertaining herself, who gets BORED watching TV for more than two hours, but can’t think of anything interesting enough to do, to bother getting up off the couch, alone, marinating in her hated solitude.

Why am I sharing this? No idea. Maybe it can help someone else?

The other thing. I ran across a statement of someone sneering at the idea a popular celebrity often typed as ENFP is actually an ENFP because their Ne is so zany – they said (and I agree) “mature, effortless Ne is not popping out zany connections everywhere – it’s an instant, highly skilled process, a natural order making true connections, not superficial ones for other people’s amusement.” And it’s true – real Ne’s are not defined by weirdness or randomness intended to entertain (that’s a Fe/Ne trait) but off-center, intuitive, sometimes insightful ways of perceiving reality. Their insights can be sharp and penetrating. They trust their instincts.

And (I’m sorry for further propagating this myth, it comes from seeing types in abstract terms rather than being able to instantly use sensory-based comparisons – it’s almost like, in typing characters, I start over every single time) but Ne’s can reach singular conclusions or perceptions and stick with them. They’re open to a margin of error and a good argument will sway Ne, but when left alone to discern a motivation, a reason for behavior, a true intention in someone else, often Ne-dom will pick the most likely cause, emotion, or motivation first – and stick with that, until it’s filtered out or proven untrue; a lot of the time, Ne is correct the first time. We can be DISTRACTED from it with external white noise, but our instincts are good. We’re intuitive.

Other people have told me that, to them, I’m this incomprehensible force, blowing through things with reckless abandon – a supernova, but inside my head isn’t like that. It’s rather quiet to me. I live in a world of subtle vibrations – like a spider seated at the center of a web. Ideas with less potential are dewdrops on the silvery strands that tremble and soon fade. I toss them aside. But I’m a very hungry spider. I need challenges to overcome. Things to do. Conversations to hold. Outside impact to focus. I process things fast, but am not an endless well of instant ideas. I have to care first. Insights “just come” to me about people. I often predict outcomes accurately. I don’t tend to think of many negative outcomes, just the most rational one (Ne/Te) and plan for that, while keeping other possibilities on the back burner.

This same person pointed to Veronica Mars as a more realistic ENFP than most – a girl who isn’t your stereotypical ideas-generating idealist, but who floats through life, reacting to external reality, trusting her intuitive instincts, adapting and changing with each ebb and flow of life. Yet, she has something in common with the Doctor – leave her alone too long, and things go badly.

Someday I’ll learn not to withdraw, but to engage. And I’ll be the better for it.

For others, struggling to either accept or determine your type: don’t look for “obvious” – look for “effortless.” What needs fed? What doesn’t? What, frankly, sucks in you? What makes you depressed and why?

Can you entertain yourself? Could you do so, locked in an empty room?

- Charity

So it has been only 2 months since I started and I didn’t expect 800+ people to follow the mess that I call my blog. So thank you to all that have stayed! I love you all to bits <3 </p>

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Thanks again to anyone who has taken their time to follow my blog! It makes me happy that there’s people out there who like it surprisingly :) Also, just because I didn’t include all of my followers it doesn’t mean I don’t love you all equally. Thanks to all of you guys I have found a place to fit in whenever I need to.

The Green-Eyed Inventor (Fan-Fic)

Tick Tock paced rapidly in his room. He was working on this new invention and it felt like he couldn’t get anything right. First of all, The gears were all wrong and they wouldn’t move in synch, Causing the whole thing to.. Well, Obviously fail.

The ginger unicorn yelped as suddenly everything started bouncing. The floor, at least. The TARDIS was bouncing and moving all over the place.. Not his floor. He cast a minor spell to keep his things put so they wouldn’t move and he grunted as he skidded his way across the floor, managing to stand up somehow and make it to the control room. Derpy was already there, Trying to keep herself from falling as she stood by the panel. The Doctor was all over the controls by now, trying to land the TARDIS. “What’s happening, Doctor?” Tick Tock clenched his teeth as he tried not to fall.

“The TARDIS’s controls have gone all weird.. They won’t work and-” The Doctor yelled as he slid across the floor, Crashing into the wall as the TARDIS came to a screeching halt. “Ahh!” Derpy squealed as she fell into Tick Tock, Sending them both flying against the floor. “Woah” Tock grunted as Derpy’s head banged into his chest as they came to a complete stop by the TARDIS door. The Doctor stood and shook his head, walking over to the two. Derpy stood, blushing slightly as she moved away from Tick Tock who had landed on the floor, under her. He got to his hooves and blinked. “I suppose we should go out then” Tock muttered, trying to get rid of the slight headache he had gotten from banging his head against the floor. “Avante, Then!” The Doctor said cheerfully, opening the door and stepping outside. Tick rolled his eyes and followed suit, Derpy flying out not much later.

(More after the break. This is a VERY long fanfic)

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