This is almost entirely fluff as a break from a really angsty one-shot I’ve also been working on. I have some other stuff in the works (including a canon one-shot, AU one-shot, and multi-chap), but I thought I’d get this out. Hope you enjoy!
Summary: Professor Killian Jones’ history lecture gets a surprise visitor. (NOT StudentxProfessor)
Everybody taking one of Professor Killian Jones’ lectures
knew Mrs. Jones. Or, if they didn’t know
she was actually his wife, they knew the blonde woman who he called “Swan” and
who occasionally snuck into the room and made their professor’s always excited
grin grow even wider.
She first appeared in the middle of his Ancient,
Medieval, and Renaissance Political Theory lecture about three lectures into
the class. About one-third of the female
population was drooling over the handsome professor with the accent talking
about the Spartan system of government when the blonde woman slid into the room
and sat in the chair behind his desk as he lectured in front of the projector.
The students who first noticed her assumed she was an
older student who was either playing a prank or trying to catch the eye of
Professor Jones by doing something bold.
However, when the man caught sight of her, he merely smiled and asked,
“Well, Swan, since you seem so eager to learn, can you tell me who first
imposed this code of laws on Sparta?”
She frowned thoughtfully and responded, “Lucretius?”
“Lycurgus, love. But I can tell
you’re listening.” He leaned down and
pressed a kiss to the top of her head before turning back to his class. “Let’s go ahead and take our break now. Five minutes and be back here.”
The Christmas Invasion - Behind the Scenes [Part 4]
Excerpt from Benjamin Cook’s articles in Doctor Who Magazine #365
David Tennant is getting his first peek inside the TARDIS wardrobe. It’s actually the TARDIS control room - here, as always, in a warehouse in Newport - redressed with racks of clothes, a whole load of accessories and some tailor’s mannequins. Oh, and a Doctor Who scarf that Phil Collinson’s gran knitted when he was six! It all looks fab.
“Lots of frocks, aren’t there?” says David, gazing around in delight.
Maybe the Doctor was once a transvestite?
“Yes, somewhere in between his Sixth and Seventh incarnations,” he deadpans, pointing at a mannequin in a bright pink shell suit. “Ooh, I like that. That’s what the Eleventh Doctor will wear!”
Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Tomorrow, David will record his ‘rifling through clothes and choosing his new costume’ scene, which is, for those in the know, a bit of a regeneration story tradition.
This was requested by @narwhalbeautious who wanted a 11th Doctor x Reader with the prompts:
62. “hypothetically speaking, what would you say if i asked you to marry me?”
53. “keep it in your pants!”
Do you want to request something with a prompt? Click HERE for the prompt list.
You were sitting in one of the chairs of the TARDIS’ console room, reading. The Doctor was somewhere fixing something and sometimes you could hear a loud clang and a muffled curse. You smiled every time.
You flipped another page and the Doctor appeared in front of you, hair all in front of his eyes. You chuckled.
“Is she not cooperating?” you asked. He sat down next to you, breathing heavily.
“It’s like she doesn’t want to be fixed,” he complained. You pulled him closer to you, putting your book down, and kissed him. He smiled against your lips and wrapped his arms around, kissing you back lovingly.
Eventually the two of you had to separate to breathe and you leaned your forehead against his, breathing heavily. You grinned, just like you always did. Your foolish lovesick look.
“Hypothetically speaking, what would you say if I asked you to marry me?” he asked you.
You blushed. “Well, hypothetically speaking, I think I would say yes. Depends on how Gallifreyan wedding ceremonies are.”
“Still hypothetically speaking, we would do the short version,” the Doctor said. You put your head on his shoulder, cheeks still red.
“Do Time Lords or Ladies need a priest to marry?” you asked. The Doctor rubbed your back, humming softly.
“Well, we don’t have people we call priests. You can have a big ceremony with everyone invited, or you can just have the two who are going to marry,” he answered, “on Gallifrey we don’t obsess so much about marrying and romance as humans. It isn’t necessary.”
“And what happens when… I don’t know..a Time Lord regenerates into a Time Lady? Are they still married?” you asked, interested.
“We don’t care about gender, Y/N, we’re far above that,” he said, kissing your forehead.
“Well, that’s nice.”
It was silent for a long time and you just enjoyed being held by him while the TARDIS hummed contently. It was nice to just sit, with no danger or worries. Just happiness.
‘If I would marry you….” the Doctor said, “would you want to invite people?”
You looked up into his bright eyes. “Maybe. Some family members, friends. I don’t know.”
“How would you explain it all to them?” the Doctor chuckled.
“I don’t know,” you muttered, “I’ll find a way. But nobody’s invited to our wedding night even if that’s some weird kind of Gallifreyan tradition.”
The Doctor started laughing loudly and you laughed too.
“No Gallifreyan tradition…” he said, chuckling, “but I wouldn’t let anyone see you naked, love. Our wedding night is private, that’s when I’ll ravish you.”
‘Oi!” you protested, “keep it in your pants!”
Laughing you kissed him again while you wrapped your arms around his neck. He then kissed your chin, your nose, your cheeks, your closed eyes.
“No longer hypothetically speaking, will you marry me, Y/N L/N?” he asked softly. You opened your eyes, gasping softly.
You grinned. “Yes. Off course.”
The TARDIS beeped loudly, flashing loudly, obviously happy. You grinned, patting the wall, murmuring some kind words to her. The Doctor grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. The Doctor. Your soon to be husband. Your madman in a box.
Feel free to request an imagine or just drop by to talk about something!
reblogs, comments and constructive criticism is very much appreciated!
Also, English is not my first language, so if you see some grammar
mistakes, let me know so I can fix them!
Due to her tardiness, Claire’s home room introduction had been quick and painless. Claire Beauchamp. Senior. 18. Goal is to become a nurse. She sighed in relief as her teacher gave her this semester’s schedule. The only desk left in the classroom was in the front row by the window. She sat down, avoiding eye contact with her curious peers, and pulled out the map Jamie had told her about.
they probably binge bad sci fi and the x-files and mythbusters and the likes on 2043 netflix
because not only did bill introduce her to netflix but they pushed it all the way to 2043 where everything they want could be available
the drs were really annoyed because there are better things to do than binge watch RIDCULOUS AND UNREALISTIC THINGS like you could go live the real aliens out there smh
i’m not saying they had an intricate conspiracy to keep the star wars prequels from happening but they had an intricate conspiracy to keep the star wars prequels from happening but they still happened because they got busted and their “pick wherever we want to go” privileges were revoked for a while
these two rolling stones stans are the reason octopus garden happened but it backfired on them because people actually liked that?
probably set several tardis rooms of both seven and twelve’s tardis on fire by accident or not so accident right after that mythbusters binge
also there’s a pizza that came to life because they just added random things they found to it?
sharknado is also their fault they just really liked jaws?
As a follow on tomy previous post , here is another clip I created for my Doctor Who trailer, this time from the Eighth Doctor Adventures part of the fandom.
While this clearly isn’t the TARDIS’s Butterfly Room, I think we can imagine this as a situation where they somehow managed to get out. I imagine that either the Doctor or Fitz forgot to close the door. Knowing the Doctor’s weakness for amnesia, it was probably him.
So, part two, not sure how much better this will be
considering I mostly make up as I go along but thinking of me it might likely
have an almost happy ending. Let’s see…
Also, if anyone is actually reading my work or deciding to follow me i have figured out how to schedule posts so until further notice i will be having a new post pop up every two days (Currently using Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday) And it should post about ten am. I think it’s really cool to be honest. I really don’t think i’ll run short any time soon as i am incredibly imaginative when i want to be and boring days on the second week of school holdays is one of the times i want to be. Anyway, read on.
You almost hadn’t functioned for a long time. It was lucky
when one of your friends had come over to check on your place while she thought
you were gone. She found you around a day and a half later, according to the
last time she’d been around, and you still had yet to move from your spot below
the window in darkness. Your few friends from before the Doctor all gathered
for you and watched over you, making sure you ate and drank and looked after
yourself until you had managed to tell them what had happened several days
It was because of those friends that you were alive today
and living a relatively normal life. As normal as your life could be a year
after the events on Mars. You still thought of him every day. Still regretted
what you had done. Every single day until you were walking through a department
store one Saturday and happened to spot a strange man in a bow tie who seemed to
be watching you when he thought you weren’t looking.
After deciding enough was enough, you left the store earlier
than you had planned. You noticed the man follow you at a distance as you left
and stopped just around one corner of an empty street. You had been a long time
companion, knowing at least you’d outlasted Donna’s stay and, as far as you
could tell, Martha’s. You had been bound to pick up a thing or two. Needless to
say the man seemed very surprised when you turned the tables on him.
The second he rounded the corner you had slammed him into
the wall before he could process what was happening. You held him by the lapels
of his brown tweed jacket as you tried your best to look threatening. Not very
hard when you’d been thoroughly fed up with being stalked. Your mind flashed back
to the one other time someone had tried to follow you home and you had to
quickly shake the thought from your head before it reached the end of that
“Who are you and why are you following me?” You growled, all
the while trying to focus your thoughts on the present.
“(Y/N)?” The man questioned fearfully. Your eyes narrowed
“I said, who are you” You repeated quieter, pushing him
harder against the wall behind him. Suddenly his hands were on yours and you
paused, something inside you seeming to recognise the gentle touch, although
you couldn’t figure out how.
“Trust me” Was all he said. Quiet and calm and simple, that’s
all it was. But those two words were enough to make your eyes widen and loosen
your grip to step back. You let go of his jacket, stepping back even as he moved
forward, his hands still holding yours.
“Oh, (Y/N), I am so sorry” He told you softly, closing the
space between you and resting his forehead against yours. His eyes fell closed
and after a moment you felt yourself do the same. “You were everything to me. I
don’t know how I said the things I did, I really don’t. Just please, please,
please, forgive me” He begged. You nodded, his head still against your as you
opened your eyes.
“Yes” Was all your said. He smiled, albeit hesitantly at
first, and you found yourself smiling back. “I forgave you a long time ago”
“I love you too” He said then. You found yourself laughing
“Took you long enough”
That was around a week ago. You couldn’t help but smile as
you thought how you couldn’t be sure. Life on the TARDIS never left much room
to remember what the time or date was. You had missed the timelessness, and she
had apparently missed you too. Your room was exactly the same as it was when
you left. Although you could swear those pictures you had left on your desk
were out of place. Like someone had picked them up and placed them back down.
That and the picture you had drawn of your first adventure was gone. It was
small but very precious, and now it was gone.
You now sat under the TARDIS console in the Doctor’s repair
swing, moving slowly back and forth, lost in thought. The same thought that had
driven you for around three years and one that never was.
He was certainly the Doctor, you know that, but he was different.
Not in the way he had been to make you leave, not in a bad way. But you also
couldn’t bring yourself to think of it in a good way. Here, on the TARDIS, with
the Doctor likely to rush in any minute and declare he take you somewhere ‘but
it has to be amazing’, you missed your Doctor. Your TARDIS that you had started
your first brilliant adventures with.
The new Doctor was brilliant in his own way. He made you
smile, made you laugh and even for a minute take away the pain of how you had
failed the other him.
You turned at the voice, watching as he moved to stand in
front of you.
“I’m fine” You said absently.
“No, you’re not. You haven’t been since I picked you up.
What’s the matter?” He pressed, kneeling down to look up at you as he talked.
You smiled sadly, tears coming to your eyes as you picture you Doctor doing the
same. You found yourself lifting a hand to the side of his face, your thumb moving
absently over his cheek. He simply let you, watching you closely as the tears
began to fall.
“You’re not him” You said without thinking. His eyes widened
in understanding and he shifted slightly closer, placing a hand on your face as
you had done to him, wiping away the falling tears.
“I know” He whispered in understanding. “I might never truly
be him again. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m here. I won’t leave you
(Y/N), I swear to you, this time around I will not leave” You nodded, offering
a sad smile which he returned. “(Y/N), I love you now and you know that, but I loved
you then too. Not everything has changed. Not everything ever has to, if you
just look” He all but pleaded. You listened carefully to his words and thought
about what he said even as silence fell around the two of you.
“Let’s see” You muttered, a smile forming on your face as
you pushed his hair back from his eyes. “Hair of an idiot” He laughed at that.
Your hand returned back to the side of his face. “Old eyes. Sadness and loss,
but love and wonder all at the same time” Your hand moved lower, settling on
his chest between his hearts. He kept his gaze locked on you as you remained
silent a moment, feeling his hearts beat beneath your hand. “Two hearts” You thought
for another moment, but weren’t able to think of much else. The Doctor seemed
to realise this and pulled you forward to hug you tightly.
“You’re not him” You whispered in his ear. “But you’re you.
And that’s perfect the way it is” You could swear you felt him smile into your
You laughed at the Doctor’s antics as he rushed back inside
his box. You followed, freezing as you turned to close the door. There, he
stood, watching you. Your Doctor. Tears formed in your eyes as he gave a small
hesitant wave. You smiled back at him to show you had forgiven him and waved
back. He smiled slightly but you didn’t miss the grimace of pain that flashed
across his features. Time was running short for him. The two of you simply
watched one another for a moment before the older Doctor called for you to
close the door. You looked back over your shoulder before giving your Doctor
one last smile.
You closed the door, frowning as you stuck your hands in
your pockets to find something inside that you were sure you hadn’t put there.
You pulled out a piece of folded paper, gasping as you unfolded it to show a
sunset over an apple grass hill. There were two figures standing on the hill,
holding hands. Simple silhouettes on a black and white drawing, but precious
all the same. You turned as you folded it carefully and placed it back in your
pocket, finding the Doctor smiling softly at you from the console.
Summary: While discussing poetry, the Doctor remembers Rose.
Characters: Twelfth Doctor, Bill Potts, Nardole
Author’s Note: This is a departure for me, because I am no poet, and I frankly know nothing about poetry beyond a college level poetry class I took a million years ago, but She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron got stuck in my head this morning, and this is the result. Obviously, Lord Byron’s poem, which I’ve quoted here, does not belong to me. The Doctor’s opinions on Lord Byron’s works are his own, and are not necessarily shared by the author.This is intended as a one-shot, and I’m marking it complete, but I may change my mind. Who knows.
She comes to him in dreams, more often now than she has for centuries. No, that’s a lie. He’s very good at it, lying, particularly to himself; it’s a skill he’s honed over millennia after all. In truth, not a day has gone by that he hasn’t thought of her, at least once or twice, sometimes with the twinge of nostalgia brought on by fresh loss and old age, sometimes with a terrible longing he hadn’t believed this incarnation capable of. It was an ironic gift of the blindness, the ability to see her face more clearly now than he had for centuries: on a space station, glowing with the energy of the Vortex; under a black hole, kissing the helmet of his space suit; lying on the floor of the console room, laughing with the sheer joy of living; and most often, in a darkened, war-torn street her lips slowly curling up into a smile, her light blonde hair falling loose upon her shoulders, her brown eyes twinkling as she spotted him.
In his dreams that scene ended differently, with a long-awaited kiss, exuberant because that was who he had been in those days, a kiss filled with the joy of reconciliation and passion for the girl whom he’d believed he’d never see again.
He shut his eyes for a moment, savoring the false memory, and absently traced a finger over his lips. Different lips to be sure, but still his own.
“‘She walks in beauty as the night,’” he quoted softly.
“That’s Shakespeare, isn’t it?” Bill asked from somewhere to the left and slightly behind him.
He started, startled by the sound of her voice. He’d thought himself alone.
“Nah, that’ll be Robert Browning,” Nardole responded. Ahead of him, six paces. Other side of the console? Possibly. When had they come in, and how had he not noticed? Too lost in his thoughts, he expected. “All that lovey dovey stuff’s a bit too sentimental for my taste.”
The Doctor reached into an inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out his sonic sunglasses. He slipped them on with an air of nonchalance.
“You’re both wrong. It’s Lord Byron,” he corrected. “One of the greatest poets who ever lived.” With the aid of the sunglasses, from his position sitting on the stairs in the TARDIS control room, he could now *see* in front of him the console, its glowing time rotor reaching up to the ceiling, and two humanoid life forms, one standing on the side of the console nearest the door, the other walking across the room towards the console. As he had predicted, Nardole was the one on the far side of the console, his life readings humanish rather than strictly human.
As Bill came to a stop in front of the monitor, the Doctor stood. He tugged at his jacket to straighten it before crossing unerringly to join her. He was getting better at this, he thought, pretending to not be blind. Of course, the glasses helped.
“One of the greatest human poets, maybe,” Nardole responded, the skepticism heavy in his voice clearly indicating he didn’t think much of Lord Byron, or of human poets in general. Given his attitude on humans in general, it wasn’t surprising.
“One of the greatest poets, and not just of humans,” the Doctor corrected.
“If you say so,” Nardole said dubiously.
“I do say so, and I am the world’s utmost authority on poetry.”