#and then when she gets back to her tardis she’s Not fine about it because. how could she be.

[quietwingsinthesky]

thirteen is incredibly aware of how her actions are perceived and incredibly unaware of how her identity is perceived. like. that’s the Point of her meeting the fugitive doctor. that she can stand next to herself and not know herself. but she knows her own actions. the real recognition of herself in fugitive isn’t when she unearths the tardis or when fugitive calls herself the doctor. its when fugitive hands someone a loaded gun that will backfire and kill them only if they shoot at her first. because that’s what thirteen would do. you know?

[0o-junebug-o0]

First Meeting

summary: You're having difficulty with some code so you stop by Penelope's house for help, unaware that she has a guest. Spencer takes one look at you and is immediately head over heels.

genre: fluff

cw: meet cute (is it a meet cute?) completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all), no use of y/n, autistic!spencer (because every spencer is autistic!spencer), season 1 spencer, university/college student reader, talk about research and coding, pov switch from reader to spencer

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: this is an actual error I had this summer when writing my spectra analysis code

You lean back in your chair with a sigh, scowling at the code you’re trying to write. You’re still relatively new to coding, the first time you ever took a class on it was just under two years ago, so this code has taken you significantly more time to write than it would have taken Penelope. But you’ve written it. You read through the code again and rerun it. Everything runs fine, the code should work, but it doesn’t. 

You rub your eyes and groan with frustration. You should be able to get a wavelength solution out of this. The professor you’re doing research with told you what you need to do to get the wavelength solution and then how to use it to find the redshift of the lensed galaxy and the foreground lensing galaxy, but nothing is lining up!

You’ve opened the data, plotted the variation in flux for each line in the image, fit a Gaussian to it to get the brightest point, and converted the pixel value of that point to vacuum wavelength, but none of the wavelengths you’re finding match up with what lines should be present in the spectra for this lamp type!

You briefly consider emailing your professor but decide against it. Even though he told you that asking him things wouldn’t bother him and that it’s his job, you don’t want to take up more of his time than you already have. 

You look around your apartment for anything that might help. Your eyes land on your keychain and the spare key Penelope gave you because she enjoys it when you stop by. You quickly shut your laptop, tucking it under your arm, grab your keys, slip on a pair of shoes, and make your way down the hall to Penelope’s apartment, not bothering to lock the door behind you. 

_____

Spencer sits awkwardly on one of Garcia’s kitchen stools, tapping his fingers on the Tardis mug she had filled with tea and given him. He’s not exactly sure why Garcia invited him over. She said she wanted to bond, but they’ve known each other for almost two years now, and Spencer considers her a good friend, so he doesn’t really know what bonding entails. So far, Garcia has just been bustling around her kitchen preparing snacks and drinks for their Doctor Who marathon.

The lock clicks and Spencer’s head whips toward the door just in time for it to burst open. Spencer freezes and stares at you in awe and confusion. 

“Penny!” you cry, your voice a mixture of a shout and a whine. 

Garcia calls your name with a surprised look. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“What?” you ask. Then you wave your hand flippantly. “Yeah I’m fine, I just need help with some code.” Your eyes land on Spencer and he can feel his heart rate increase. He really hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had someone over,” you say. “I can, um, I can come back later.”

Spencer watches as your posture stiffens slightly and you start to fiddle with your keychain. 

Spencer opens his mouth to reassure you but Garcia beats him to it. “No, no, it’s fine,” she says. “I’ve been wanting you two to meet anyway.” You shoot Spencer a small, awkward smile and wave from across the room when Garcia shares your name. When she introduces him, your eyes widen and you look toward Garcia with an expression Spencer can’t decipher and mouth something to her that makes her laugh loudly. 

Spencer can feel himself flushing at your reaction and takes a sip of his tea to hide his face.

“Anyway!” Garcia says cheerfully. “Do you mind if I help them real quick?”

“Go ahead,” Spencer responds, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. It’s difficult with you there, though, all his thoughts suddenly seem much harder to grasp. Like your presence is forcing them aside. 

Your eyes seem to linger on him for a moment before you head over to the counter and set your laptop down. “Right,” you mutter, opening it and entering the password. Spencer listens intently as you describe to Garcia what your code should be doing and he can’t help but smile at the clear passion in your voice. It sends butterflies to his stomach. 

“What do you study?” Spencer blurts out. 

You close your mouth and cock your head at him for a moment. “I’m, uh, I’m studying astrophysics. Specifically strong gravitational lensing. I’ve already made preliminary models of the system and I’m just working on analyzing the spectra now.”

Spencer nods and leans over to look at your code. 

“Do you want to help Penny find the issue?” you ask. You sound a bit nervous and Spencer looks up and smiles what he hopes is a soothing smile.

“I would if I could. I really don’t know how to code, though.”

“Seriously?” you ask. Spencer cocks his head at the tone of surprise in your voice. “Sorry, it’s just that Penny has told me a lot about you and about how you’re a genius and have three PhDs, which is insanely impressive by the way, so I guess I’m just surprised you don’t know something.”

“There’s a lot I don’t know,” Spencer admits. “Coding and other technological things are some of it. I don’t know too much about astrophysics either.” That’s not exactly true but it isn’t a lie either. He’s read papers on several astrophysical topics but he’s never come across one on strong lensing before. But the truth of the statement is irrelevant, the only reason he said it was to find an excuse to spend more time with you.

You smile and Spencer’s stomach feels like it does a backflip. “I won’t be much help teaching you how to code, Penny would be better for that, but I can tell you about some astro stuff at some point.”

“Alright, lovebirds,” Garcia teases and Spencer’s face burns. “Let’s focus.” You nod, clearly also a bit embarrassed, and turn back to your laptop.

“How about I go line by line and tell you what it should do and you let me know if something doesn’t do what I think it does,” you say. Garcia nods and both she and Spencer follow along as you point to and describe each line of code. You get to a printed image of the data file you’re analyzing before Garcia stops you.

“Can you open the file on your computer?” she asks.

You nod and open the file in a new application and move it so it’s side by side with the image in your code. “Wait,” you mutter, glancing back and forth between the two images. “Is that seriously the issue?” Spencer leans forward to get a closer look, the x-axes of the images are flipped. 

You throw your head back with a groan and change the rotation of the file in your code. “I swear, if this works,” you growl. The clear exasperation in your tone makes Spencer chuckle slightly. 

You rerun the code and compare several of the outputs to a list of wavelengths before groaning again and letting your head fall onto the counter. “I hate Python,” you grumble. “Why does it have to switch the axes!” 

Garcia laughs and pats you on the back. You raise your head off the counter and tap your forehead against her shoulder in a gesture Spencer assumes expresses gratitude. “Thanks, Penny,” you sigh. “You’re the best.”

“Of course I am!”

“Oh, and Spencer,” you say, turning to look at him. “We should get lunch sometime. I can tell you about astrophysics and you can tell me about all the crazy things you know.”

“I-I would love that,” Spencer stutters, unable to speak clearly with you looking into his eyes. He's hardly able to wrap his head around the fact that someone as beautiful as you would want to spend more time with him. Spencer's not sure whether you’re asking him on a date or just to go out as friends, but he doesn’t care either way as long as he gets to spend more time with you.

“Great!” you say happily. You stand and cross the room to quickly grab one of Garcia’s pens before returning. You hold the fluffy pink pen with a smile on your face and hold out your hand for his. “May I?” you ask. 

Spencer’s eyes widen and he nods, setting his hand in yours despite his usual aversion to touch. The contact makes his heart feel like it’s about to burst from his chest. You scrawl your number across the back of his hand before handing Spencer the pen and holding out your hand for him to do the same. He writes his number on your hand and watches in a sort of daze as you gather your computer and keys and wave goodbye before leaving.

Spencer jumps slightly as Garcia ruffles his hair. He looks over at her to see a knowing smile on her face. Spencer blushes and hides his face in his hands. “Shut up,” he grumbles, embarrassed.

“No way,” she laughs. “Derek’s going to have a field day with this. Boy genius has a crush!”

_____

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[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[jayybugg]

study session

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're studying with Theo in the library...or are you?

Warning: Established Relationship, Dirty Talk, No House Specified, Kind of Public Sex, Smut (18+), No Use of Y/N, Google Translate Italian, No Plot literally just sex.

Word Count: 1.6K

Note: Wrote this based on a dream I had.....which was based on an RP scenario that I did. Obviously, Theo takes up a lot of space in my mind. Early birthday gift for my Georgie, @pizzaapeteer, please wish her an early birthday and thank you because she is the reason I got this done. @cafekitsune for the banners as always!

You raced to the library, giving small hello’s and excuse me's to the people you passed. You had promised Theo that you would help him with his Charms homework after your club meeting, but you had gotten carried away with some discussions causing the meeting to run over. You hoped that Theo wasn't there yet or would just be arriving because you knew the small quips about your tardiness wouldn't stop if he was already there.

You made it into the library, climbing the stairs to the secluded corner of the floor. A small table with two chairs that you and Theo often claimed whenever you both decided to do some studying. You groaned softly, seeing Theo already seated with a shit-eating grin on his face when you rounded the corner.

"So late, bella. Almost thought you stood me up." Theo said as you sat down next to him. You rolled your eyes, pulling out your Charms notes and your textbook. "Oh, shut up. I've never stood you up before."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, why are you late?" Theo leaned in; his mouth curved into a smirk. You flicked his forehead causing him to lean back, rubbing it softly. "I got caught up in the meeting. I'm sorry, Teddy."

"It's fine, principessa." Theo said, opening his notes, "Just like teasing you."

You and Theo quickly fell into a nice rhythm of studying and light conversation. You gave him the notes to copy as you worked on the actual assignment. You always felt at ease when you studied with Theo, it was one of the only times that he seemed to relax. Usually that was reserved for when you both were in the privacy of your dorms and even then, Theo would rather be participating in other activities.

More time passed before you started wiggling in your chair, your butt starting to fall asleep. "This chair is uncomfortable." You whined, standing up to try to regain some feeling. Theo chuckled, leaning back in his seat, and patting his thigh. "Well, I'm quite comfortable if I do say so myself."

You rolled your eyes as you slid over to him, nestling yourself in his lap. "You've been waiting for this moment, haven't you?"

"I'm always looking for a way to get you in my lap, love. It's where you belong." Theo said, winking at you. You smiled, shaking your head, and returning to your reading for your homework.

Theo's hand reached your thigh, running up and down your leg. Once he finished copying the notes, he trailed his hand under your skirt. You glanced up from your reading to meet his eyes that were already trained on your face.

"Shouldn't you be starting on the assignment now?" You swatted his hand away from your thigh, raising an eyebrow at him. Theo smirked, putting his hand back, "Yeah, but I don't feel like reading that text right now."

His hand once again traveled up your skirt to the hem of your underwear. "Why don't you read it to me, principessa?"

"Read it to you?" You raised an eyebrow at him, "What are you trying to do?"

"Nothing, I just want to hear your sweet voice." Theo smiled, "I'll even reward you."

Your eyes scanned Theo's face, landing on his eyes. The usual expressionless eyes held a certain swirl of mischief in them. "You're up to something."

"Maybe, maybe not. Why don't you read and find out?" Theo shrugged, his smirk never going away. You rolled your eyes, conceding to his request.

"Charms are comprised of a wide range of spells. They focus on giving a target new and unexpected properties or making the target perform certain actions, along with other effects." You recited from the book. Theo's fingers softly moved the fabric of your underwear, pressing down on your clit with the pad of his thumb.

You yelped softly, looking up at Theo. He was leaning into his hand propped on the table, his smirk remaining as he held eye contact with you. "Theo," You hissed, "We're in the library."

"I know, bella. Why are you bringing up the obvious? Keep reading, I'm intrigued." Theo contorted his face into fake confusion, all while massaging your clit with his thumb. You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a shaking breath as you felt a familiar feeling boil inside you.

"Charms were distinguished from Transfiguration spells in the regards that a charm will add to or change the properties of an object while Transfiguration spells change the object completely." You continued reading as Theo removed his thumb from your clit, quickly replacing it with his index finger. He trailed up and down your pussy, smiling as you stuttered upon your next sentences.

"Offensive and protective spells f-fall under Charms such as the Stunning, Disarming, mmm, spell, and the Shield spell. The Tickling spell- oh!" Theo’s finger slipped its way into your pussy, pumping in and out as you read. You shut your eyes, attempting to save yourself from the pleasure.

Theo leaned close to your ears, a smirk evident on his face. “What’s wrong, bella?”

“You…. Theo��.”

“Blaming me for your distractions?” Theo clicked his tongue, “How rude.”

You slapped his arm, slumping over slightly as Theo picked up the pace of his fingers. Theo chuckled darkly; his eyes trained on your face as it contorted into one of pleasure. “Getting fingered in the library, where anyone could round that corner and see you. Such a fucking slut.”

You felt yourself clench around his fingers due to his words. The adrenaline from the thought of being caught rushed through your body. “Fuck. Please.” You let out a breathy plea, your eyes looking over to the corner that could expose this whole ordeal.

“Please what, amore? Use your words.” Theo whispered into your ear. Your breathing became shallow as you felt a familiar knotting in your stomach. Theo did relent in his pace, smirking as he saw you close your eyes. “About to cum? Go ahead, be a good girl, and come all over my fingers, sunshine.”

A low moan fell from your lips as your climax came in a harsh wave. You fell limp against Theo, who was chuckling lowly. You rolled your eyes, getting ready to scold him. “I can’t believe you- Theo? What are you-?”

You felt your body get picked up and leaned over the wooden table. Theo stood up, taking his place behind you. “What are you talking about, darling?” Theo said, pushing your skirt up to your waist and bending down to be face to face with your cunt.

“We’re in the library! We can’t-” Your words were once again cut off by Theo as his tongue lapped at your clit.

“But you’re dripping, principessa. I can’t just leave my girl soaked like this, now, can I?” Theo smirked against your cunt, lapping at it again. You bit your lip, pressing your face against the hard wooden table. Theo stood up, undoing his belt and zipper as he left a harsh slap on your ass.

“Do you want my cock, baby? Tell me.” Theo stroked himself, pushing your legs apart with his knee. You let out a deep breath, laying your body flat against the table and turning your head to glance back at him. “Yes…... I want it.” You said softly. Theo smirked at you, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing in.

“Fuck, amore, so wet and ready for me,” Theo muttered. You whimpered, your eyes falling close at the feeling of being filled up by your boyfriend. He never fails to stretch you out beyond belief. Theo pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip in before snapping his hips forward, setting a harsh pace.

“Such a fucking slut. Getting railed in the library where someone could see you.” Theo snarled, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You clenched around him again, moans ripping from your throat. “Oh, you like that, huh? You like the idea of someone possibly seeing how much of a whore you are for me?” Theo smirked, reaching around to rub on your clit.

“Y-yes, yes, I like it.” You mewled, your nails digging into the table. Your eyes focused on the open corner, your heart speeding up every time a shadow floated past it. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to catch you in this position, but you couldn’t find it in you to stop Theo or even conceal the noises that he was causing you to make.

Between watching how he disappeared into your greedy cunt and how your ass bounced back every time his hips contacted yours, Theo groaned softly. “S’good…. fuck.” You whimpered.

Theo lifted your leg to be prompted up on the table, knocking the books off the table in the process. With a firm grip on around your thigh, Theo pound into your aching cunt. You gripped the edge of the table, your climax coming fast. “M’boutta….m’boutta cum…” You said, your voice muffled from burying your head to the table.

“Hm? My principessa is about to cum?” Theo spoke, “Cum around my dick, I want to feel you soak me.”

It didn’t take long for you to cum once again, your juice covering Theo’s dick and thighs. He continued to pound into you until his thrusts got sloppy. “Going to cover this pretty ass all in my seed.” He muttered, more to himself than to you. He gave you one last deep thrust before pulling out and spilling his cum all over your ass.

You took deep breaths, your body still bent over the table, as Theo massaged your waist, a chuckle erupting from his throat.

“I didn’t know you were so kinky, bella. Good thing I casted that invisibility charm before you got here.”

Your eyes flew open in disbelief as you turned your head to look at him. That same shit-eating grin on his face from earlier.

Your boyfriend was going to be the death of you.

[janeyseymour]

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 1

Summary: save me, before i lose myself- your child is in melissa’s class, and you’re almost always late bringing your kiddo to school and picking them up, aggravating the second grade teacher. that is, until she realizes why.

WC: ~2.55k

If there is one thing that Melissa Schemmenti, second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary, hates, it is parents who drop their kids off or pick them up after the allotted time. So, it’s quite safe to say that you are high up on the list of parents that the fiery redheaded teacher hates.

You’re almost always late taking your sweet little girl to school, which in turn makes you late to work. And because you’re late arriving at your job, you’re usually forced to stay a bit later at your desk job while you get reprimanded by your supervisor for your tardiness. If only those around you who hated your knack for poor timing knew why.

Everyday, you wake up next to your asshole of a wife. Everyday, it’s your job to wake up your daughter, because you know that Carrie is too hungover to do anything with your daughter- much less have the patience to handle the somehow simultaneously exhausted and excitable little one that you are blessed to have as a daughter. Everyday, you drag yourself around the house in the morning, attempting to keep up with the infectious giggles and warm hugs when you so desperately want to lay in bed and not move to prevent the aching in your bones. Everyday, your morning routine of silly tunes and cherished little kid laughs morphs into heartwrenching tears and your daughter begging for just one more hug.

Finally, you ask your little sunshine why she has such big emotions about leaving you to head to school- it’s not like she feels this way about Carrie.

“B-because!” Millie blubbers out. “Because what if I don’t get to see you again? I need momma hugs!”

Your brows furrow, and a slight frown appears on your face as the wrinkle lines in your forehead deepen. “What, baby? Why would you not see me again?”

You watch eyes that match your wife’s flit around, ensuring that Carrie is still asleep and not lurking just around the corner. Millie’s voice drops to a whisper. “Because, Momma, I know Mom’s hurting you.”

You freeze, but you try not to show your daughter that her inkling is one hundred percent true. Your mind and body finally jumpstart after an admittedly too long pause. “Honey, what would make you think that? Momma and Mom are just fine.”

Millie shakes her head adamantly and continues to cling. You allow her to before you know you have to pull away. “My love, we have to get going to school.”

“Don’t wanna,” the seven year old murmurs into the crook of your neck. “Don’t want you to not come back.”

Getting her into Abbott is more of a hassle than it usually is, what with your daughter’s mind swirling. It takes longer than usual for you to get her to the classroom, much less for you to get her to sit down. You don’t miss the glares that the redheaded teacher sends your way as you continue to assure Millie that you’ll always make it back to her. 

As you finally get your little girl to settle in her seat and you make your way to leave the building to just barely make it to your job on time, you hear a voice. A deep voice that doesn’t sound too thrilled with you.

“Y/N?” Melissa calls after you. “I’d like to speak with you for a moment, if you would.” She tells you in such a tone that leaves no room for argument. Almost like a child being marched to the principal’s office, you look down at your shoes as you wait by the door for her. She ensures that all of her students are doing their morning work before leading you into the hall and closing her door so that it’s open just a crack.

“You know, Millie is an incredibly smart little girl, but if she continues to be late to school, she’s going to fall behind academically. I would hate for that to happen,” the redhead tells you sternly. “If she is tardy one more time, I have to start giving her demerits, which is not something I would like to do.”

“I understand,” you sigh softly, refusing to meet her gaze. 

“She should’ve been getting them for weeks now, but I’ve held off,” your daughter’s teacher admits. “If I keep doing that though, I will be in some trouble with administration though.” You nod your head. “I also think that if Millie has such separation anxiety from you, she may benefit from saying goodbye to you at your house and coming to school with your wife.”

You bite your bottom lip. “I- I’m afraid I can’t make that one work,” you mumble.

“And why would that be?” Green eyes dare you to answer.

You know you can’t tell your child’s teacher the truth. You can’t. And if you do, or give even a small, subtle hint towards what’s been happening at home and Carrie catches wind of it, you’re fucked. “It’s just that I’m in charge of pickup and drop off.”

“Y/N,” Melissa says. “If you want to make this transition from home to school easier for your daughter, I really do think-”

“Miss Schemmenti,” you cut her off gently as you hold up a hand. “I really do have to be getting to work.”

“Very well,” the redhead sighs as her eyebrows creep up her forehead. It’s clear you’ve stunned her. “I’ll see you for pickup… on time.”

You just give her what you hope is a convincing nod. You know you won’t be on time, and you’re positive you’re going to be getting another stern talking to later in the day.

You’re forced to stay late after work, being reprimanded by your boss. Your head hangs low as you begin the walk down to your daughter’s school. And then your phone rings, and your wife’s contact lights up your screen.

“Hey,” you say softly.

“Why haven’t you picked up Millie yet?” are the first words out of Carrie’s mouth. No hello, no how are you. Just words practically spit out of her mouth.

“I’m on my way now,” you promise her quietly. “I got caught up at work.”

“Her bitch of a teacher called. Asked if I was coming since you hadn’t. Said Millie is in tears,” your wife tells you with a bite. “Maybe you should start putting more effort into your daughter than your fuckin’ job.”

It takes everything in you to not comment that perhaps it’s her who should try caring about your daughter- both of your daughter. You’ve found it more and more often she only refers to your bright little light as solely yours.

The words “I’m sorry” roll off your tongue for the first time of many today. You promise that you’re on your way to pick her up, and then you’ll be home to make dinner and settle in for the night with Millie.

When you finally get to the front steps of Abbott, you expect to see Melissa staring you down with hatred in her eyes. Instead, she’s sitting on the steps with an arm wrapped around your daughter, and she looks rather lost. Millie is beside herself as she clings to her teacher’s leather jacket. As soon as her eyes set on you, little legs race for you and tackle you in a hug with such a force that you can’t repress the groan in pain that bubbles it’s way out of your body. 

“Hi, baby girl,” you whisper out as you smooth down as many of her flyaways as you can. “Hey, sweet girl.”

Millie just continues to whimper out your name as she clings to your sweater. Only once you feel that you’ve properly greeted your daughter and soothed her worries to the best of your ability do you glance at the teacher still sitting on the front stoop in front of you. The emerald eyes that usually look at you with such distain instead have an inkling of sorrow and sympathy in them.

“Miss Schemmenti, I’m so sorry I’m late,” is all you can get out. “I- I’m sorry.”

She just shakes her head sadly. “No, I’m sorry.”

Your brows furrow. That was probably the last thing you had expected to come out of her mouth. Your head tilts slightly to the side. “I beg your pardon?”

Melissa stands from her place, dusts herself off, and points towards the door. “I think we need to have a conversation in my classroom.”

“I really should be getting Mille home,” you try to protest weakly as you attempt to pry your daughter from your leg. “My wife is waiting for us, and she’s expecting dinner.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind if it’s just a bit later,” the redhead argues. “I really do think it would be best if we had this conversation today. Unless you would rather have your wife present when we speak of the matter?” Melissa knows she’s bluffing- she would never call Carrie in here, but she isn’t a poker champion without her outstanding poker face.

You freeze momentarily. She can’t call Carrie- that would not go over well for you at home tonight. “I- okay,” you agree quietly. “Just let me let her know we’ll be a bit later than she’s expecting.”

Once you’ve gotten in contact with your wife (and she is not thrilled about dinner not being on the table as early as she was expecting), you follow the redhead into the school silently. She takes a seat behind her desk and points towards a desk for you to take a seat at. Then she glances to your daughter. “Mill, why don’t you go make yourself comfortable on the bean bag and pick a good book to-”

“Melissa?” another voice rings out. It’s one that you’re familiar with. Mrs. Howard’s.

“Hey, Barb,” the second grade teacher gives a wave.

“You’re still here?”

“Meeting with a parent.”

Millie’s old kindergarten teacher gets a glance at you. “Hello, Mrs. Howard.”

“Hello, dear,” the warm voice says. “I hope you’ve been well.”

You can’t find the words, so you just nod through a tight lip.

Your daughter’s squeaky voice fills the room. “Mrs. Howard?” Little legs race for the kindergarten teacher.

“Hey, baby,” Barbara greets your daughter. “You’re still here?”

“Momma and Miss Schemmenti have a meeting. I’m reading on the carpet.”

“Well, why don’t you come join Mrs. Howard while they talk about boring grown up things?”

You cut in softly when your daughter lights up at the thought. “I’m sure Mrs. Howard has things to get home to, Millie.”

“Oh, please,” Barbara chuckles. “All I have at home is a husband waiting for dinner. He’ll understand if I’m late because I wanted to spend some time with one of my favorite former students.” She takes your daughter’s hand and leads her out of the room and down the hall. While you feel bad for putting your daughter off on your daughter’s former teacher, you’re entirely unaware of the fact that Melissa had orchestrated that little stunt earlier at lunch today to get you alone. And absolutely willing to help, Barbara agreed.

With your daughter no longer in the presence of the classroom, Melissa turns to you again. “Y/N, I wanted to speak with you about something concerning Millie told me today.”

Your blood runs cold. You know where this is going. Still though, you pretend to be unaware. “And that would be?”

“Well, once Millie calmed down from drop off this morning, I asked her why she always comes into school so upset when she very clearly loves being here once she’s settled in.” You nod along. “She told me that she was worried one day you wouldn’t come back to her.”

“Yes, I’m aware of this,” you tell her. “And we’re working through it.”

“I normally wouldn’t pull a parent into my room for something like that, because it isn’t necessarily uncommon for kiddos her age to have those fears. But-“

“But?”

“But when you were late picking her up, which I normally would hate-”

“I’ll pick her up on time from now on,” you state, fully knowing that you will be getting into so much trouble with your boss. But, Millie comes first, and you can always finish your hours from home if necessary.

“That is also not why I brought you in here,” the teacher tells you. “When you were later than usual, Millie burst into tears. I told her I would call you, but you didn’t answer.”

“I was in a meeting with my boss,” you sigh.

“And then she really went off,” Melissa whispers. “Crying about how you weren’t coming back for her because ‘Mom did it’.”

“I- I don’t know what she could possibly mean by that,” you stammer out.

“I think you do,” Melissa sighs as she runs a nervous hand through her hair. “But, continuing, I called Carrie to ask if she was going to come get your daughter. She- she was not very happy to receive a call from me.”

“I’m aware,” you mumble.

“I gotta say, she was not very pleasant,” your daughter’s second grade teacher says. “Definitely the opposite of you. Told me to go to hell for even insinuating that she would come get your daughter.”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “She- she’s- I’m sorry.”

“That’s not the most concerning part about all of this,” Melissa sighs out. She bites her bottom lip. “When I asked Millie if everything was okay at home… If I thought she was crying before, damn.” You can’t find it in you to say anything in response, so you stay silent. “Millie told me that Carrie hurts you. That she’s always terrified of leaving you and then you not coming back because she’s killed you- that’s what she meant when she said ‘Mom did it’.”

“You’ve- you’ve met my little girl,” you say as evenly as you can, even attempting a chuckle. You refuse to meet the redhead’s eyes. “She’s got quite the imagination on her.”

“Millie told me that she hears the two of you late at night, when you think she’s asleep. She knows what’s happening, or at least thinks she knows.”

“We’ll- I’ll have a conversation with her tonight about how her mother and I are fine- that nothing is-”

“Y/N,” Melissa cuts you off. “I’m going to ask you, just this once, is Carrie abusing you?” The way that the woman in front of you asks the question tells you she already knows the answer. 

You freeze in the chair you’re sitting in. Your right legs stops bouncing, you stop twiddling your thumbs, you even stop breathing for a few seconds. You weigh your options: fold and tell her that things are… rocky (an understatement) between you and your wife but assure her that Millie is fine, or run.

You don’t get to make a decision, because before you know it, Millie is racing into the room, Barbara Howard not far behind. And your little girl yanks off your sweater to reveal a canvas of purple, yellow, and green going up your arms. And in that moment, you know… you’re fucked.

Part 2

tags:  (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights

[armageddon-generation]

Empire of Death was bad and cemented several fundemental flaws in this season.

I watched this in the theatre, and the contrast between everyone's excitement before Empire, and their universal disappointment leaving the theatre was super disheartening. I'm gonna try to articulate my problems with episode, and how they're linked to fundenental structural issues of this season.

SPOILERS BELOW:

Sutekh

The moment the UNIT characters died the story was robbed of any stakes. (Also? Kate and Ibrahim?? During Pride month?? Disgusting)

Sutekh was pointless, big CGI spectacle who was barely there. Saying he's been latched onto the TARDIS since Pyramids of Mars was such an asspull. Why couldn't he have latched on during Wild Blue Yonder? wouldn't that make much more sense??

You're telling me the guy who holds all life in contempt is invested enough in learning the identity of Ruby's mum he willingly reveals himself??

And then they defeat him by dragging him through the Vortex just like before, which it's been explicitly stated *didn't work* last time? He just *lets* Ruby leash him??

The 'death of death is life' bit, and the idea of the Doctor representing life as a Ying to Sutekh's Yang, is a cool concept just jammed in there with no real buildup or depth.

The issue is bringing Sutekh back takes so much effort- a literal, clunky clipshow of Pyramids of Mars, a whole episode spent building up to the reveal of a silly anagram entirely unrekated to Sutekh's previous appearance. And it just... amounts to nothing. What a silly way to cap off a season meant to be jumping-on point for brand-new viewers.

Mel was just takingup space. Pointless.

Ruby's Mother

I don't have a problem with the *concept* of Ruby's mum being normal. I really like the idea thematically. The execution was terrible.

First of all it leaves so many unanswered questions (why the snow? Why was time changing? Why was she shadowed? Literally just for the sake of the mystery-box?) and represents the worst thing about this new era- RTD using fantasy logic to handwave any logic at all, and just do whatever he wants without properly justifying it.

Second, I *hate* how easy and simple and neat the reunion is. Ruby seems incapable of getting angry with anyone. She has never once argued with 15, or Carla, or anyone besides that one moment in 73 Yards. She has never expressed any kind of negative feeling towards her mother for abandoning her. And it's fine for her to reach that conclusion! It's just bizzare we never see Ruby struggle with her feelings beyond the shallow goal of wanting to find her.

(Also Carla? Has nothing to say?? Just welcomes that woman in with basically no comment? Carla is a 2D cutout of a person, used as a plot device and otherwise relegated to the single character trait of I Love My Daughter. The children yearn for the ilk of Jackie Tyler, Sylvia Noble, even Francine Jones.)

15 & Ruby

The emotion behind 15 & Ruby's split felt entirely unearned because we've never seen their bond develop. They never argue, never disagree, Ruby hasn't learned anything about herself or grown or changed. The closest we got to that is 73 Yards, which was undone. She was already brave and kind and musical and sure she loved her adoptive family when we met her in Church on Ruby Road.

Similarly, 15 tells us Ruby encouraged him to talk about family in a way he never has, but that was in what, two moments across the season? And they seemed random, unrelated to Ruby being with him. New viewers will assume 15 is just that open anyway- he was discussing fatherhood with a dead man's hologram- and old viewers assumed trauma-dumping was just a new trait of 15's personality, not Ruby-specific.

The problem is we're told Ruby & 15 are best friends but it isn't earned. I liked 15 crying initially but both he and Ruby do it so much (15 cries about 5 times in this one episode) it loses its impact and I'm becoming numb to it. There is no contrast, no downtime.

Season Structural Issues

I think the biggest problem is Season 1's storytelling priorities. It's much more interested in selling *the show* (look at our big budget! And guest stars! And how flexible our format is! Musical episode! The Beatles as props! Bottle episode! Indie folk-horror! Black Mirror! Gay Bridgerton!) it forgot to put effort into developing and investing us in its characters. I liked a lot of the individual stories this year but in retrospect a lot of them feel like they're wasting space that needed to go to essential character and theme setup.

These skewed priorities, combined with the cut down episode count, really impact the pacing of the season. Ruby and 15 were barely together! Even in Rogue they were seperated for most of the story!! We only loop back to a flashback of 15 meeting Carla in Rogue!

This is made worse by the baffling insistence on a 45-minute runtime. We know key sequences were cut from almost every episode, with highlights including:

The Gobin King invading Ruby's flat and her banishing him with scratchcards in The Church on Ruby Road: Her missing 'companion saves the day' moment!

Refrence to the Toymaker in The Church on Ruby Road, which was itself referenced in The Devil's Chord. 'I told you about the Toymaker when we first met' sir, objectively you did not.

The TARDIS jukebox playing the Sugarbabes' Push The Button in the opening scene of Space Babies, hastily cut around in the final edit. This is the setup of a running joke still in the episode, and part of the story's climax. The first encounter with the Bogeyman was also longer, with 15 taking particular interest in its skin

Extended scenes in Abbey Road from The Devil's Chord, including an apparently significant speaking role for Cilla Black, according to her annoyed actress.

Cut dialogue from The Devil's Chord explaining the musoical number was caused by Maestro's power lingering, and that banishing them undid everything they'd done. Fans inferred thos based on the rules established in The Giggle, but again, new fans haven't seen The Giggle and were left clueless.

An opening sequence for The Legend of Ruby Sunday where 15 & Ruby meet Susan as a nanny in 1947 America, a blue-skinned waitress, and an astronaut meeting a colony of giant, sentient ants. At the end of this we actually see 15 decide to go to UNIT for help. In the broadcast version he just sorta shows up.

Really what Empire of Death exposed to me is how emotionally hollow the season was. I enjoy the exoperimentalism, but not at the cost of character. And then in the finale Russell reverts to almost a parody of his RTD1 finales, with the nonsense logic and lack of consequences. All the worst bits of Last of the Time Lords and The Giggle put in a blender.

[intuitive-revelations]

FLUXES [Celestis: Engineered Participants / Technologies] Example: "DOCTOR, The"

[Image description, courtesy of @quailfence: a series of pictures of text, alternated with screencaps and gifs from Doctor Who.

1: Text: Fluxes: [Celestis: Engineered Participants/Technology] Individuals transposed backwards in time but not too far in space, using a very high chaotic limiter setting and tied to their home period by a thread of biodata

2: The Eleventh Doctor stands in the future corpse of his TARDIS, looking and a pulsing stream of light that has replaced the console. He says, "That is the scar tissue of my journey through the universe. My path through time and space."

3: Text: He raised a finger. 'Look. There.

Now she could just make out the thread in the moonlight. It was just a faint reflection, maybe a foot or two long, about a metre off the ground. A taut strand of spiderweb hanging in the air, not attached to anything.

'What is it?' Fitz asked.

'It's only partially rotated into three dimensions,' he said. He pushed his finger right through the glimmering line, without affecting it. 'That's why it looks one- or two-dimensional. The rest is still perpendicular to what we can see - woven into higher space, or the time vortex…'

'Yes,' said Fitz, 'but what is it?' 'It's what your friend mistook for a ley line.' The Doctor was scuttling around the silver thread, peering at it from every angle, getting more and more agitated. 'It's part of the fabric of space-time itself. What DNA is to your genetic code, this stuff is to biodata. And it's all just exposed here now. Personality, history, memory, perception, all vulnerable…'

'I'm going to have to ask you again, aren't I?' said Fitz.

The Doctor said, 'It's me.'

4: The Fourteenth and Fifteenth doctors in the TARDIS. 14: "But you're fine?" 15: "I'm fine, because you fixed yourself. We're Time Lords, we're doing rehab out of order."

5: Text: The subject is turned loose in his or her own history, and the limiter setting allows tiny actions taken by the future version to have considerable effects on the past version. The biodata link then transfers these changes to the future version, which alters it, and thus alters the changes made to the past version. Therefore, the individual's history is kept constantly in flux.

6: The Fugitive Doctor says, "Let me take it from the top: Hello, I'm the Doctor."

7: Text: Let me finish. Think back to that time when you went to see your previous selves.

8: Ten, Eleven, and War talk to each other. Ten: "You're not actually suggesting that we change our own personal history?" Eleven: "We change history all the time. I'm suggesting far worse."

9: Text: 'Maybe there's no one home on Gallifrey,' said the boy softly. There was just the one of him.

The Doctor looked at him, cupping the small white cube in his hands. The boy said, Maybe they all left. Or maybe the whole planet's being destroyed, and undestroyed, and destroyed, and you just caught them at the wrong moment.

10: The TARDIS by the ruins of Gallifrey

11: Text: 'It's impossible,' said the Doctor. 'It's impossible for my people. Our past is unreachable. What's written can't be unwritten.'

'Who said your history can't change?'

Another boy answered, 'Someone from his history.'

And another: 'Maybe it's the second-biggest lie in Time Lord history.'

12: Dhawan!Master tells Thirteen, "You are the Timeless Child."

13: Thitreen stares at a ruined house. Swarm whispers in her ear and tells her, "All the memories you've lost, all the people you've been. It's all in there, contained within that house."

14: Text: And it was like the Doctor's home. As if his ship understood the loss of the House and had compensated to fill the emptiness. Shadowy corridors, alcoves and stairways, a secret at every turn. Like being in the Doctor's head. Like his life, for that matter, the details of which were strewn like flotsam across the floor.

15: Text: 'Sweet,' said the little boy. 'That's my favourite of your origin stories, too.'

The Doctor opened his eyes. He had been laughing, he realised, he felt that lightness in himself. The boys had all moved away, behind him, leaving him facing the empty dark of the warehouse.

'What do you mean?' he asked. His voice sounded very small.

'Is this the version where they banned all mention of his name, and yours, for consorting with aliens? Or the one where he got every record of himself deleted from the files?'

'Feel free to believe either of them,' snapped the Doctor, 'or both of them, or neither of them. If you're curious about my past, I want there to be as many wrong answers as possible.'

16: The Eighth Doctor tells someone, "I'm half human. On my mother's side."

17: Text: 'Well he's a hybrid, you know that. A Gallifreyan not born of Gallifreyan, the one who unites the two races and brings good old human niceness into their alien society. Aliens need that, y'know.'

'A human hybrid? She saw the contempt in his curling lip. 'Pseudoscientific nonsense. There's no evidence,' he repeated.

'He's allowed to be different. He's got a prophecy and everything.'

18: Lady Me says, "By your own reasoning, why couldn't the Hybrid be half Time Lord, half human?"

19: Text: Someone giggled. 'Let's play pin the tale on the donkey.'

'Maybe you didn't use to have a father.'

'Maybe you're living in the middle of a time war. Maybe there's an Enemy out there -'

The Doctor shouted, 'I'm not listening!'

'- who's rewriting you when you're not looking!'

'Maybe you weren't always half human.'

'But now you've become always half human.' 'Maybe you weren't always a Time Lord.'

But now you've always been a Time Lord.'

'Maybe you originally came from some planet in the forty-ninth century. Fleeing from the Enemy who'd overrun your home -'

'I said I'm not listening! Laa laa laa laa laa -'

'- and you've just been written and rewritten and overwritten, ever since.'

'Pin the tale!'

'How d'you know it's not true?'

'How could you know it's not true?'

The voices crowded in. 'How would you know, huh?'

'How would you know?'

'How would 'How would you 'How 'How would you know? you know? you know? know?'

'Why would I care?' shouted the Doctor.

The boy fell silent.

20: Lady Me asks, "Am I right? Is it true?" Twelve replies, "Does it matter?"

21: Text: However, the one group from the Homeworld which has excelled at flux-engineering is the Celestis.

22: Two asks the Time Lords, "Now then… what about me?"

23: Tecteun tells Thirteen, "Which is ehy we engineered the Fluyx: Shut the universe down and you within it."

24: Text: Even Mictlan itself can be considered a kind of enormous flux, an endlessly-shifting realm so cortosive to the rest of history that its heartland has to be kept on the outer skin of the universe

24: The Fourteenth Doctor tells Donna, "I invoked a supersition, at the edge of the universe, where the walls are thin and everything is possible."

25: The space station from Wild Blue Yonder

26: Text: There are suggestions of a stable middle-ground between the two fates, in which the physical matter of the flux is lost but the meaning of the subject/ victim is retained, a series of memetic connections with no flesh to support it. Yet this entity exists only on a purely theoretical level, relying on the perceptions of others to survive at all.

27: The Twelfth Doctor walks up to the TARDIS console. He says, "Can't wait to hear what I say." Glancing at the viewer, he adds, "I'm noting without an audience."

28: Text: You know what Sam represents. If a tree falls in a forest and no one's there to hear it, does it make a sound? Stop me if I'm getting too abstract here, but if a Time Lord saves the world and nobody witnesses him doing it, does history care? She's your witness. The thing you need to make you whole.

29: The First Doctor looks at the viewer and says, "Incidentally, a Happy Christmas to all of you at home!" End description.]

[Plain text: Fluxes [Celestis: Engineered Participants / Technologies] Example: "Doctor, The". End plain text.]

@dw-described

[haute-pockette]

The Doctor being disabled part 2.

Eight has a bit of trouble recognizing other people using sarcasm or asking rhetorical questions. He'll take them more literally than the speaker intended, especially when a literal response would require an explanation. He gets excited about explaining things.

Aside from the memory difficulties, the anesthesia during regneration left him prone to seizures. Usually atonic or absence seizures.

Eight has synesthesia. He usually connects sounds with colors and movements and shapes. He loves to sit with a record player and watch the air dance with it. The war made him start to hate it though and the combination of input would bring him closer to his stimulation limit.

Other than the autism baked into his biodata, War doesn't have much going for him. The elixir he drank from Karn allowed him to regenerate into a body that was suited to face the war. Meaning no disabilities.

Alexithymia is giving him trouble again. It hasn't been this bad since about Three, but he struggles to identify all his grief and frustration from the war. So he compartmentalizes all his feelings and ignores them.

PTSD for poor Nine. Just look how he handled seeing a Dalek after the war. He sleeps even less than his other incarnations cause he wants to avoid nightmares.

He stims when thinking, and keeps a fidget cube or two in his pockets to fiddle with. Otherwise he'll fiddle around with his sonic and the last time he did that he accidentally broke something.

Rheumatoid arthritis makes his hands really achy after doing fine motor work. He keeps little pocket warmers to use as heat packs.

Ten does lots of fidgeting and tinkering to stim. And he hates the feeling of being uncovered, hence the full suit and trench coat. Very particular about fabrics.

ADHD, lots of impulsive decisions and doing what's interesting in the moment. He's terrible at keeping to plans, and will absolutely forget what he was doing when he walks through a doorway.

Eleven loves his verbal stims. Echolalia, humming, making popping sounds. It just feels right to fill the space with sound.

ADHD, postural sway and hyperactivity for days. Making a million plans and only gets 12% done with one before he jumps to the next. Someone put this man on a leash.

All of his floppy gesturing and swaying and falling over comes from inner ear problems not muscular problems. Raggedy man gets carsick and seasick so easily, but somehow is fine in the tardis. River thinks it's ironic.

Eleven also has synesthesia. It's a lot more varied than just sound and sight associations. But overall, a lot of things that are considered his favorites are linked to tardis blue.

Twelve is less social than his other incarnations. He likes lecturing because he can talk at people instead of to them. He doesn't have to worry about the conventions of holding eye contact or reacting properly in conversation.

Music is a huge comfort for him, especially when he gets to play the music himself instead of just listening. He can control the sound around him that way and it feels so good.

Hates his sciatica. Will insist he uses a cane only because his nerves are pinched and not because he's old.

Thirteen tries so hard to mask her interests and stims. She wants to be normal for once and feels like she's failing miserably when caught flapping or fidgeting.

Tinnitus. She blames Twelve's guitar habit for it. If it persists long or loud enough she will start humming or singing in an attempt to drown it out.

She has some back pain she also blames from her fall out of the tardis. She wears orthopedic insoles to help.

Also forgot to put in the last one, but Five absolutely has asthma. Man is wheezing after every scene he runs in.

[melrodrigo]

Tardy, part 9

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s time to take down Ghostface once and for all…nothing can go wrong, right?

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Language, Angst

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: There’s also fluff in the beginning because it wouldn’t be me without fluff…happy reading! Don’t forget to tell me what you think <3

The rest of the evening is spent in bliss. Tara in your arms splayed on the floor while you guys whisper disgustingly sweet nothings into the other's ear.

The morning after is no different. You wake to the smell of burnt bread, bacon, and eggs.

You get up drearily, try to stretch and immediately regret it when you feel a sharp sting pull at both your shoulder and stomach.

Humph. Last night almost made you forget you had two additional holes in your body.

You poke your head into the kitchen and smile cheekily.

"Good morning sunshine. Whatcha making there?" You hum, waltzing over to stand behind your girlfriend.

You don't see her face but you can tell she's pouting. Her shoulders tight, fists balled at her sides.

"The bagel burned." She says, letting out a tiny huff.

You peer over her to see 4 halves of a bagel burnt to a crisp, sitting sadly at the feet of the table.

"I can see that." You chuckle. She turns around quickly, big frown on her face.

"It's not funny. This has never happened before." She whines.

"It's a little funny. I mean, who would've thought an amazing chef like you would burn some plain ol bagels?" You tease, tilting your face down to press a kiss to her hair.

She pinches your sides a little too hard in warning.

"Okay, okay! Come on, I'll do the bagels. The bacon smells amazing though, you should go check up on those." You suggest, watching Tara brighten up at your praise comically fast.

You can almost see the imaginary lightbulb spark above her head.

"Yes. That's what I'll do." She grins, sauntering over to her bacon and eggs. She turns back quickly as if she just remembered something.

"But not because you told me to." She says, a mischievous grin on her lips. You roll your eyes but nod nonetheless.

She picks up her phone from the counter, presses play on a song.

It fits the energy nicely. Sort of slow, sort of upbeat. It's very romantic though.

She senses it too, you can tell by the way she snakes her hand around your waist and pulls you closer for a dance.

It might look a little silly from an outsider's perspective, you'll admit that, but it fills you with warmth.

It's times like these you want to use those cringy words couples are always describing their feelings with. You feel fuzzy. You want to forget about everything else in the world and focus on her.

"Tsk. tsk. Lovebirds, outta the way, I'm starving!" Mindy exclaims, popping out from god knows where. You frown a little at the intrusion.

She hurries over to the fridge, grabs a stray piece of bacon on her way there; earning her a light slap from Tara.

She rummages through the fridge, moving things left and right and out and in again.

"What's got you so excited?" Tara asks, sharing a look with you. Mindy doesn't turn as she answers.

"Not excited, I'm getting prepared. Can't defeat Ghostface with an empty stomach, can I?" She replies jokingly.

It's enough to ruin the mood. It makes you remember it's not just you and Tara in this world, and absolutely nothing is currently fine.

You straighten, clear your throat. Then turn to Tara, hoping you can still pretend to live in the moment.

"Shall we have breakfast, m'lady?" You ask, bowing dramatically.

You can tell it doesn't work. Tara's eyes darken again.

"Yeah...yeah. Let's." She says, sending you a small smile and pulling out your chair for you.

You squeeze her hand three times and try to send her a secret signal. She smiles a little, returning with three squeezes of her own.

-

You're quiet most of the ride to your apartment. The seven of you are crammed into Sam's little SUV; knees pressed together uncomfortably.

"What's the plan again?" You ask, trying to relieve some of the anxiety that's forming inside you with a distraction. The untimely news about your father had shaken you a bit, leaving you with no memory whatsoever of the plan the rest of the gang had made.

Tara's the one who answers you.

"We call Ghostface, get him to come to your apartment. You, me, Sam, and Chad will be waiting. Try to get him to fall for the trap, cage him up, shoot him and then we chop chop and pretend this never happened for the rest of our lives." She says simply, with all the chill of someone who's planning a holiday vacation.

When you get to the apartment, Sam equips herself with a net gun, the most important weapon; because she claims she's the only one who can use it. She's not wrong about that.

When she hands out the rest of the weapons to the group, you can tell she sees the hesitance on your face. You're tired. Not ready to fight.

The only weapon she gives you is a tiny pocket knife.

There's a trap set up right at the front door, and if all hell goes loose, there's a secret gun stashed in your bedroom.

You're not confident in the plan, not at all. There's way too much assuming what Ghostface will do when you all know he's a deranged psycho with a mind of his own.

By the time you get there, trap at the front door set, you're shaking. It's an unfortunate habit, really. You feel the dull ache in your stomach get worse with anxiety.

You're all standing smack dab in the middle of your living room. Nobody's relaxed enough to sit down.

Mindy, Ethan, Anika and Danny are situated together somewhere downstairs, in hiding. Ready to signal to you guys if they see anything suspicious.

You told them that you shouldn't split up, and safety was in numbers; but alas, the four of them had refused.

"Don't worry. We'll be safe." Ethan had said to you before he left, quickly following behind the other three with a skip in his steps.

Now, Tara inches closer to you, obviously sensing your turmoil. She grabs both your hands in hers and brings them up to her lips to kiss each of your knuckles. Her face is tight, determined.

"I'm gonna kill this fucker for what he did to you." She whispers, low enough for no one else but you to hear.

Normally, you'd laugh and quip back that she's way too tiny and weak for that, but the way she's looking at you; all mad and worked up sends shivers down your spine.

You open your mouth to tell her you'd happily do the same for her, but the indistinct sound of a phone ringing beats you to it.

Sam looks down at the contact and her expression turns unreadable. She sends all of you a final 'you ready?' look.

"Hello, Samantha." Comes the raspy voice out of Sam's phone.

"Hi." Sam grits out, grip so hard around the net gun that her knuckles turn white.

It's quiet for too long, almost like Ghostface is unsure of what to say. You raise an eyebrow internally.

Wasn't Ghostface supposed to be like super witty and stuff?

"Hey fuckface, would you mind telling us where you are? I'll show you mine if you show me yours." You say, voice light; sort of teasing. Tara grips your hand hard in support.

"Oh, YN...you didn't think I didn't know about your little plan did you?" Ghostface drawls and all four of you pale almost collectively.

"Plan? We just want to meet the fucker that wants to kill us," Sam says, eyes darting back and forth between your windows.

"Why don't you show yourself hm? Or are you too much of a pussy that you can't even fight me face to face?" She taunts, and you try to bite back the surprise on your face at her tone. She's serious, snarl on her face, fire evident in her eyes type of serious. It scares you a little.

What scares you even more is that you agree with her. There's something stirring deep in you, the feeling of ever losing Tara, the random uncalled DNA test, the fact that this fucker wants to take you away from her.

It's never going to happen.

You're about to open your mouth and bully the hell out of Ghostface when a loud shrill scream cuts you off.

You can feel the atmosphere change immediately.

It's not like your first night up on the roof with Tara now, you know what you're supposed to do. Or at least you kind of know.

You dart out the front door, leaping past the trap door you've made and practically sprint down the flights of stairs.

You can hear the three of them close behind you, footsteps hurried.

"Guys?" You call out.

There's a thumping sound and an animalistic groan. It makes you run even faster.

You round the corner to see Danny pressed up against a wall, Ghostface too close for comfort and thrashing wildly.

He's putting up a good fight, dodging and throwing in punches when he can; but it's clear who has the upper hand here.

"Hey, fuckface! Get away from my girlfriend's sister's boyfriend!" You yell, as loud as you can.

Damn, that's wordy.

You grip Ghostface's shoulders, using as much force as you can to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze in an attempt to try and pry him off Danny. You manage to throw him back, and quickly steady your feet as he tries to take a sloppy swing at you.

"Danny, where's the rest of them?" You question, looking around to see no sight of Ethan, Anika nor Mindy.

Ghostface surges at you again, and you dive to the side, kicking him in the side.

"I don't know, they just left." He says, sounding exasperated. You scrunch your eyebrows at his statement.

You see Sam behind Ghostface, ready with a beer bottle in her hand.

Huh, wonder where she got that.

She slams it down on his head hard, and Ghostface lets out a whimper. He swings madly at the both of you, not letting you approach. Then, he dashes out the lobby door before you guys can do anything.

You see the internal conflict in Sam's eyes. She wants to follow Ghostface, but she also wants to check up on Danny and his sort of worrying-looking wound.

"Stay with him. I'll follow Ghostface." You say, your tone authorative. You know she needs to hear it right now.

"Absolutely not." Tara pipes up, rushing up to you and putting her hands on your waist.

As if that was going to stop you.

You lean down quickly and press a kiss on her cheek.

"I have to go. Like right now. Or else we're going to lose him." You murmur, rub her back comfortingly. You can tell she's about to open her mouth and argue again, but Chad beats her to it.

"I'll go with her, don't worry Tara." He announces. He grabs you by the arm and urges you forward.

You mouth a quick 'love you' to Tara and run out the front lobby door, Chad in tow.

It's not hard at all to guess where the three of them could've gone. You notice the splatter of blood beneath your feet immediately; signal it to Chad.

"Holy shit." He whispers.

It's a lot. It has to be at least a gallon of blood, paving a clear way, hand prints and feet prints crazy and wild.

There's a spluttering sound to the left of you where the blood trail starts getting bigger and thicker. In big, random splotches till it stops right in front of a bush.

It would be a good hiding spot, if it weren't for the liquid painting everything crimson.

You round the big bush, weary; scared of what you might find. The pocket knife is pressed hard in your hand.

"Ethan?" You say as you see the brunette boy propped up against a wall, hiding behind the bush, hands pressed to a wound at his ribcage.

He looks extremely close to death. Like the grim reaper is five seconds away to coming and sucking the life out of him type of dead.

You don't waste a second. You rush over, fall to your knees, already feeling tears prick at your eyes.

"No no no, please." You murmur to no one in general, gripping and slapping at Ethan's shoulders, trying to get him awake.

His eyes are half-lidded, breath coming in in short sharp gasps.

You turn sharply, scream at Chad to get down here. You make him press at Ethan's wound further while you grab desperately at your shirt and ripping a piece off.

"YN." Ethan croaks, trying to get you to look at him.

There's no time, you can't. You can't let him go, not when you've just started to get to know him. Your closest friend, under you, bleeding out slowly.

There's no use trying to stop the tears now, tears stream down your face, blurring your vision.

You take the cloth in your hands and wrap it around his wound, tight, in hopes of stopping the bleeding.

It's too late, you all know it. He's already lost too much blood. He shakes a little and it makes you look up.

He's laughing.

He doesn't get to do it for very long, because blood is trickling out his mouth and choking him.

"Please, Ethan. I need you. Please don't go." You plead, taking his hand in yours and squeezing as hard as possible.

You feel the faintest squeeze before his hand falls entirely limp.

"I love you." He whispers, and then he closes his eyes. It looks almost peaceful, like he's falling asleep after a long day.

You're sobbing now. There's nothing holding you back, just pure carnal screams.

Chad sits, hands limp at his sides. Like he doesn't know what to do. He's crying too, you notice, but it's hard to see anything through your hazy vision.

You know they were close too, to the point where Chad was comfortable enough to introduce Ethan to the rest of the gang.

You feel hot, and the sadness switches to anger fast. You feel enraged.

You stand up, look both ways.

"Ghostface! Show yourself you fucker, or I'm going to hunt you down and gut you myself." You yell, hands gripping the pocket knife so hard the handle sinks between your fingers a little.

Immediately you hear something coming from the back of you. You're knocked back and stumble onto the pavement, a blur of black and white on top of you.

Your heart picks up till you feel like it might explode. Ghostface's taking your arms and placing them above your head, trying to stop you from moving.

You scream as he takes his knife and slices open the wound on your stomach once again, not too deep for it to be fatal; but enough for you to feel like you want to die.

He gets knocked over by Chad, who's standing arms flexed and ready for more fighting if necessary.

You roll over, get as close to Ghostface as you can, and try to sink the pocket knife into his chest.

You hit something hard and furrow your brows, trying with all your might to press down so you can finally kill the fucker.

He's wearing a bulletproof vest, you realize all at once, and try to change the directions of your knife.

It's too late, because he's recovering already. Ghostface reaches down to grab at your shoulder wound. You hiss, retracting immediately at the pain.

He takes that opportunity to get up and flee, but not before aiming a knife to Chad and throwing, ninja style.

"Yeah, flee you pathetic coward." You growl, taking Chad's extended hand and getting up.

"Guys?" You hear Sam call out, somewhere somewhat close.

"We're over here!" Chad yells out, and it takes only moments before you see the three of them running towards you; faces distraught.

Sam and Danny slow down halfway when they see that there's no immediate danger, but Tara picks up her pace, rushing towards you and all but flings herself into your arms.

You wince, but hold her tight.

She pulls back when she feels the thick sticky liquid painting her own shirt red. Her hands dart to cup your face, deep frown on her lips.

"You got hurt again." And her voice cracks as if she might cry.

"I'm okay." You try and reassure, tilting your face and kissing her hard.

You pull back, too quick for her liking.

"Ethan." You mumble, suddenly feeling weak in the knees.

"Ethan what?" She asks, trying to wipe the blood off your face.

"He's dead." Chad answers, voice hollow.

Tara's face changes immediately. She knows how close you were with him.

"Oh baby, I'm sorry." She whispers, rubbing comforting circles at the top of your head. You bend down, bury yourself in the crook of her neck so she doesn't have to see you cry.

You sniff slightly.

"So like...what do we do with the body?" Danny pipes up.

"We'll call the police. No use calling the ambulance now." Sam answers, eyeing you while she says the second part of her sentence.

You don't react, trying to block out the noises around you and focus on Tara. You think you might break down if you don't.

"Where's Anika and Mindy?" Tara asks softly, moving her hands to rub at your back now.

"I don't know." You mumble, shake your head to affirm your statement.

No one says anything for a long moment, but everyone's thinking the same thing.

"You guys don't think...Anika and Mindy are the killers do you?" Chad asks, a little hesitant. He sounds in disbelief.

Sam moves to touch his bicep lightly, trying to offer him some comfort. He leans into her touch, shoulders sagged and defeated.

"We don't know," She says, "but we should find them. Before we make any assumptions. Tara, call YN an ambulance.  The rest of you follow me."

There's always a sense of authority in Sam's voice that makes you want to follow, want to believe in her.

Tara nods at her sister, and leads you onto the edge of a sidewalk where you can sit freely.

She walks away to call the ambulance, and you watch as the rest of them walk away; till their silhouettes look the size of an ant.

You turn your attention to the road in front of you, the busy city. Not a single person bats an eye your direction, and you wonder how not a single person had come to your aid when you were screaming for your life.

"God, I hate people." You say as Tara sits down beside you.

"Me too." She says with no hesitance. You turn your head to look at her.

You think you understand her trauma a little bit better now. You can't even imagine doing all this a second time.

Your girlfriend really was a special kind of person.

She smiles at you softly, and the lamps above you light her face nicely.

"We'll be okay." She says, and squeezes your hand three times.

You hum but don't say anything. Squeeze it back three times.

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter twelve: back to you | read chapter eleven

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 5k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: the final part <3 my end notes if you'd like <3

ten months later

“Hey, you two. Where’s your aunt?”

“Having an existential crisis on the trampoline,” you hear Irey respond matter-of-factly. 

“She’s no fun anymore,” Jai adds. 

“Well, Bart just got here so—woah!” 

Even you can feel the sharp gust of wind the twins create as they zoom off to see their cousin. Bart Allen runs at a million miles per hour—metaphorically and literally, so he and the twins get on like a house on fire. 

Good thing everyone turned out for you and Steph’s pre-graduation party, otherwise Wally, Jay, and Max would have their hands full trying to make sure the three of them didn’t bring the house down.

And when you say everyone came, you really mean everyone.

That’s sort of the problem.

Barry Allen and Iris West-Allen were pleasant as always when they arrived—fifteen minutes late, the tardiness Barry is prone to considerably mitigated by his wife’s urging—and gave you big hugs in congratulations when they saw you. 

“Well, early congratulations,” Barry amends, smiling. 

“I just wish we could be there, too,” Iris says, letting you go. 

You wave her off. Barry had a mission with the JL on the day of and Iris’s book tour was just starting, so there was no extra time to spare. 

“No, it’s okay. Wally and Linda are already going, so that’s enough.”

“We’ll be there in spirit,” Barry says, grinning as Iris rolls her eyes. “Literally.”

Referring to the speed force and the way it tethers both speedsters and lightning rods. So, yeah, technically. 

You chuckle. “Exactly. So, don’t worry.”

“We still wanted to give you our gift in person, though,” Iris says, passing you an envelope. 

“You guys really didn’t have to but thank you.”

“‘Course we did,” Barry says. “You’re Wally’s… what is it? Close friend slash little sister slash niece? Us, well, we don’t mind seeing you as a niece.”

“Complicated labels aside,” Iris puts in, “you’re part of this family, too.”

And boy if that wasn’t going to choke you up.

You believe it now, almost a year since Wally revealed his identity; since then, you consider Keystone City and Central City as much of a home as Gotham. It was only inevitable that you met the others and you were lucky enough that they welcomed you with welcome arms. 

But the ones part of this family are one and many. Not just the Garricks, not just the Wests, not just the Allens, not just Max Mercury, but—

“Ms. Chambers?”

Jesse Chambers grins at you. “Hey now, none of that. Here, Jesse works just fine. Pleasure to meet you. Everyone has had nothing but excellent things to say about you.”

Okay. Sure.

That bit is just a little obscured by your horrible confusion on how on earth she even knew everyone. 

You have an inkling as to the answer but frankly, it feels impossible to believe. Not because you don’t think she is not capable of it but the fact that the whole billionaire-as-a-superhero/vigilante thing isn’t so uncommon as initially thought.

The confusion must be written all over your face. She laughs. Jay is at your side in the next instant, smiling at her in greeting.

“Sorry not to have told you sooner,” he tells you apologetically, though the smile pulling at his lips tells you he isn’t that sorry. “But we wanted to leave the decision up to her. And—”

“If you can keep these guys’ secret,” Jesse says, jerking a thumb to the kitchen, where Wally, Linda, Barry, and Iris are, “you can keep mine, too. Besides, you did great work during your internship. QE has had our eyes on you for a while.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to—”

“We want to,” she says. “We wouldn’t lose anything at all offering you a place with PR. But if you want to go somewhere else, that’s okay. I’d be happy to be a reference if so.”

Somehow, you managed to stammer out a thank you and get out of that situation without making a complete fool of yourself. Wally later told you Jesse taps into the speed force using an equation, which… sure, why not. 

Jesse used to not like him, apparently, but recent events have allowed her to warm up to him; plus, the birth of her own son, Johnny Tyler, helped, too, that way Wade could have a friend to grow up with. 

While all the others prepare dinner and attempt to keep Bart, Jai, and Irey’s shenanigans contained, you manage to snag a bit of time to yourself, not quite believing you’d just been offered a job by Jesse Chambers herself. 

It’s all just… a little bit insane.

Then the twins came out and you indulged them on the trampoline in the backyard of the West house for a bit. Then you thought too hard about everything and sunk right back into your disbelief again.

Which leads to now.

“Speedsters, I swear,” Tim mutters.

You hear the soft sound of footsteps on the grass but make no move to leave from your place — star-fished on the trampoline, eyes closed. Early May in Keystone City is considerably warmer and tepid than Gotham City. You should shed your hoodie but you don’t want to. Mostly because it isn’t yours, exactly.

It’s Tim’s. The one you wore the night you got stabbed last year. Not the same one; that one was ruined beyond repair and anyway, you weren’t too happy to wear that exact one, either, since you nearly bled out in it. But it’s close enough. The same shade of brilliant azure. Big on Tim and baggy on you.

Of course, why should you want a hoodie when your boyfriend is right here?

The faint noise of the flaps of the netting be brushed aside. Then the trampoline itself moves, dipping with his weight as he comes over to you. You slide a bit, elbow bumping into his knee.

“So,” he starts, closer than before, one hand brushing your cheek as he tucks a few pieces of your hair behind your ear. “What’s this about an existential crisis? In the middle of the day?”

“It’s four in the afternoon.”

“Schematics.”

You grunt but don’t respond.

A soft chuckle. “Is this about Jesse Chambers’ offer? It’s too bad, you know.”

“What’s too bad.”

“Well, Wayne Enterprises was looking forward to offering you a position, too. And so were the Titans. And I can’t speak for this one personally but I’m fairly certain the Justice League was planning on sending an offer, too. You’re in high demand.”

You groan. “Isn’t that too much? I’m—I haven’t even graduated. There are so many other people with so much more experience—”

“Well, how are you supposed to get experience, too?” he asks, laughing softly. “Besides, you’re graduating with honors.”

“Oh, yeah, well, I’m sure it helps to have a boyfriend with an in at WE, who also just so happens to be a member of the Titans, on top of multiple people who are close to me that are also part of the Justice League.”

“And Jesse Chambers? Hers is the most reliable in that sense, then, isn’t it? Because she doesn’t personally know you—”

“But she knows Wally.”

“But their relationship isn’t that great. Sure, she’s good with Jay and Max but… You also have the advantage of having worked there briefly. They wouldn’t call you back if they didn’t like what they saw.”

Which is true. Jesse Chambers is a businesswoman. She wouldn’t do this as some pity play.

Then again, neither would the others.

You finally open your eyes, squinting immediately as the sun beams down at you. 

Tim shifts, moving until his head can shield you from it, bringing him into your focus. 

He’s smiling warmly at you, affection clear in his gaze; the sunlight does wonders for him, for his dark hair and blue eyes.

“This can’t be happening.”

“It is,” he says. “You’re graduating next week Friday. You and Steph. And no matter where you go and what you do, you’re gonna kick ass, you know that, right?”

You groan. “You’re supposed to say things like that.”

“Maybe,” he concedes. “But when I tell you I had nothing to do with the offer from WE, you have to believe me. You know I haven’t worked with them in a long while. That was all them.”

“Bruce?”

“Maybe Bruce.” 

But then that’s ‘cause he feels… guilty about cornering you last year. Which serves him right. Your relationship with Tim’s adoptive father is a bit rocky, truth be told. Just because of the things Tim has told you. The things Steph has told you. And last year is certainly a factor. But all the others, you get along with them. 

You don’t see Dick too often because he lives in New York but he’s kind. Jason’s cool when you see him. Cass and Duke are great. You hang out with them regularly on your own. Damian is a bit frigid but that’s just because of your choice in company and not anything personal, exactly, but you do get the advantage of also having Steph on your side, since they have a better relationship than he and Tim do. Alfred is pleasant as always, too; sometimes he sends grocery deliveries to you to make sure you’re sustaining on actual food and not just ramen. 

Barbara Gordon is also very nice and volunteered to help you put together your resume and cover letters and applications; Jean-Paul Valley is kind, too. They’re both old family friends, you would learn. You have lunch with Helena Bertinelli once a month; you two bond over a mutual dislike for Batman and a mutual fondness for Tim—begrudging on her part sometimes but she undeniably sees him as a little brother and he sees her a big sister. And truthfully, your relationship with her is a bit similar.

You’ve made quite a few relationships with these vigilantes. Connections. So, you shouldn’t be surprised that all of this is happening. But one part of you, the prideful part, doesn’t like it. The other part, the rational one, says it was unavoidable. You were going to apply to QE and WE, anyway. Maybe toss out a few applications to the League and the Titans, too, just for the heck of it. Not expecting anything to come of it. Out of any of it. 

But of course something would. You know too many of these people for nothing to happen. 

“But then again,” Tim says a moment later. “Bruce is just attached to the company by name.”

“That is not a ‘just’ thing, Tim, that is a very big thing. They’d do whatever he wanted.”

“Not anything. Not if you didn’t have the grades, background, or potential to back it up.”

Also, technically, true. 

“But like I said. Jesse’s is the most earnest in that regard.”

“Do you want me to leave Gotham, is that it.”

He laughs. The sound warms you.

“I don’t,” he chuckles. “I really don’t. I’d love for you to go with WE. But I also know that the news of us dating throws a wrench in that.”

Right. Ever since the gossip columns caught you two kissing on a date a couple months ago, they wouldn’t shut up about it. Only after digging their grubby little fingers into every inch of your past, of course, and using that to fuel the flames. Talking about your relationship with him as if you planned it, just trying to get a leg-up in the application process at WE. 

But the thing is, objectively speaking, there isn’t anything wrong with that. You aren’t with Tim strictly for that purpose but you knew it would factor in. It’s undeniable, the way all these other offers are undeniable in who and why they came. You can’t help who you’re connected to. 

But yeah. It would suck to prove all the tabloids right by accepting a job with WE right after graduation—like all of them said you would.

Of course, they would talk regardless. Even if you went with QE or the Titans or the Justice League. Wayne Enterprises is a known partner with Quickstart Enterprises, as well as a heavy funder for the League and the Titans. So…

 You groan, wiggling closer to him by planting your head on his thigh and staring forlornly up at him. “What should I do?” 

He smiles. “Whatever you want to, honey.”

“Yeah, that’s not really helpful, Timmy.”

He rolls his eyes fondly, bending down to scoop you into his arms. You let out a squeak as he pulls you into his lap, then you settle comfortably in the circle of his arms, dropping your head on his shoulder. 

From here, you can spy the old bullet graze on the side of his neck, silvery and a little textured. Without a second thought, you lean forward to kiss it.

He shivers slightly, arms tightening around you. 

You bite down a smile. “Cold?”

“Shut up,” he mutters, fingers digging into your side, making you giggle and try to squirm away from him. 

He doesn’t keep up the torment, exhaling a soft laugh, too, as you lay your head back on his shoulder.

A cool breeze sweeps through the backyard. In the suburbs of Keystone City, it is quiet out here. Peaceful. Though you can still hear the others inside. Wally saying something. Steph laughing at it. 

You’ve carved out a nice place for yourself here. The West’s and Garrick’s here in Keystone and the Allen’s over in Central. 

You close your eyes, basking in Tim’s embrace and his proximity. You haven’t seen him much this month, with you and Steph in the throes of finals. But he promised to come, that he’d ask Bart to take him and his friend happily agreed.

You were surprised to learn of their relationship. That they had known each other. But they had met when they were younger, along with the rest of the original members of Young Justice. Put together because they were superhero kids. The relationship stuck. What a coincidence, that Bart Allen was part of the family you had quickly grown close to. But not unwelcome.

It is a small world, you would think. 

Or maybe, when you feel indulgent, meant to be. You and Wally. You and Steph, you and Tim. All of this. Interconnected in ways you could only dream of. You don’t have to sacrifice much to have them together. 

Tim squeezes your hip, one hand slipped underneath the hoodie. “What are you thinking about?”

That maybe this decision isn’t as hard as you thought it would be. That it’s not a matter of deliberation, is it?

You know you don’t want to prove all the tabloids right by going with WE immediately. Not to mention, for the longest time, it was a dream to work with them. You want more time, more experience, before you move there.

And you don’t think you are ready to jump head-first into working for the Justice League or the Titans. You need experience for that, too.

So…

“I’m pretty sure I could convince Wally to take me to Gotham to visit. When I start at Quickstart.”

“Not necessary,” he says and you raise an eyebrow, watching him pull back, his gaze warm, not at all surprised by your words. “I could just come and visit you. Unlimited access to the jet and all.”

“Racking up carbon emissions just for me?”

“You know the jet is clean energy,” he says, pouting a bit. 

Yes, you do. He talked your ear off about it when they made the switch. But you just like seeing him get pouty about it. 

You cup his cheeks, smiling, particularly taken with the way his whole face softens as he looks at you. The knowledge that he’s this soft for you is always so insane to you. Not at all good for your heart. 

“I know. It’s still a bit of an expense, though, isn’t it?”

“It’s worth it.”

“Cornball.”

“I’m being serious,” he presses, hands tightening around your waist. “Whatever I have to do, it’s worth it for you.”

You know that. Tim is a devoted boyfriend. He doesn’t do things in halves. When he’s loyal to someone, when he dedicates himself, he does it wholly. You could ask him of anything and he would do whatever it took to get it for you, to do it for you. If you asked him to move with you, you know he would do it.

You also know the thought must’ve crossed his own mind. But he still won’t say anything, not unless he knows you want it, too, and… you do. You think that can wait, though, for a little while longer. Let you get settled in and then you two can discuss that possibility—if he wants to, of course, because while Wally and Linda do like him now, the former would not like having a Bat running underfoot in the city, in either of the cities. 

You just aren’t used to that kind of devotion. Even after this long. 

You slide your arms around his neck, threading your fingers in his hair. He leans into the touch. “I know.”

“I’ll take Steph when I can, too,” he adds and you smile again. 

“I love you.”

He leans forward, forehead brushing yours. Your eyes flutter shut.

He nudges your nose with his, then finally closes the distance between you two.

Cotton-candy sweet warmth unspools in your chest he kisses you, soft and gentle. But it quickly edges into dangerous territory when you nip at his bottom lip and he yanks you closer and closer until there is no space between your bodies. It would be better if you weren’t wearing this hoodie but you make do with what you have, still able to feel most of his chest pressed to yours, hard and sturdy, heat licking up your spine.

Your fingers twine in his hair and he lets out a shuddery breath, the kiss turning open-mouthed in the next second and you can taste the gum he was chewing on earlier. 

It’s a shade too hungry for your current location but you can’t help it, he’s just so… beguiling. You’re overwhelmingly attracted to your boyfriend and you think you always will be.

But of course, you still should know better, even with all that.

A sharp gust of wind hits you two in the next second and you both separate immediately, knowing exactly what—or who—it is. But instead of Wally or any other speedster here, a high-pitched giggle makes it to your ears and you both turn, eyebrows raising as you find one and a half year old Wade West now inside the trampoline, net fluttering behind him. 

You and Tim turn to look at the back door, which is now open, Wally and Linda standing there; the former looks pleased, while the latter just raises her eyebrows. 

“I thought,” he starts, mischief written on his face, “that instead of leaving space for Jesus, you could leave some space for Wade. So. Do that. And please stop desecrating the place my children play.”

“And come inside,” Linda adds. “Food’s almost ready.”

You slide off Tim’s lap, reaching for Wade before he tries to stand and walk over to you, not trusting his balance on the trampoline. Tiny hands grapple with the hoodie strings, tugging.

“Got it. Thanks.”

They both smile pleasantly and turn back inside. 

You bite your lip, which already feels swollen from your kissing, and look at Tim. His face is flushed with red, lips swollen, too. A tempting sight.

He catches the look on your face. “Don’t.”

“It’s my graduation party.”

“It’s yours and Steph’s. Later.” 

“You’re no fun.”

“Well, you love me, so what does that say about you?”

“That you’ve seduced me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, I’ve seduced you, okay, sure—” he looks at Wade, shaking his head “—can you believe this?”

All Wade can do is giggle in response. All you can do is smile at him, so painfully in love. 

He smiles back, rising up on his knees and leaning forward to kiss your forehead. 

“I love you, too, you know.”

Yeah, you do know. 

four years later

“Goddamit, where is it?”

Fish, a miniature Italian Greyhound you rescued from the shelter, offers no answer or help for your plight. Instead, she just sits near you, happy to follow you around as you search, watching you with big eyes. Big, empty eyes. Absolutely nothing goes on in her little head and you and Tim love her very much for it but damn if you wouldn’t appreciate a little help in finding the security badge that seems to have mysteriously disappeared.

It’s perfect timing, too. That badge is your lifeline. That’s what your supervisor, Meena, said anyway, a couple days ago when you went in for it and had a chance to speak with her before starting work. You can’t get into the tower without it. You can’t do anything without it and guest badges do not have the same amount of clearance that you have. 

You stop in the living room, taking a breath, frustration starting to make you hot, which would be the icing on the cake, if you managed to sweat through your clothes before you even started work.

Sighing, you look at her. “Do you know where it is?”

A sound behind you. 

“You should know better than that, honey,” comes the sleepy voice of your boyfriend, and you turn. “Fish is lucky to have a single coherent thought once a week and she wasted that one yesterday when she managed to give Damian the high five he asked for.”

You chuckle despite yourself, remembering the pleased gleam that had come into Damian’s hazel green eyes when Fish successfully completed the trick. Only after six months of painstaking work, of course, but it hardly deters him. Titus passed away not too long ago and he’s fixated on Fish because of it. Even if he says her name is ‘completely idiotic.’

Brushing away those thoughts, you focus on Tim, still sleepy-eyed and rumpled. Then you see it—in his hand is your security badge, your picture smiling up at you, with your name beneath it. 

“Oh my god, where—”

“You gave it to me, remember?” he asks, laughing softly as you pad over to him. “And said to keep it with my gear, that way it wouldn’t get lost between then and now.”

True. All true. After all, that gear—that is, his suit and tech—doesn’t get brought out other than for the occasional mission with the Titans, so, say, every six months or so. Other than that, it remains hidden in a panel behind your side in the walk-in closet, accessible only by him and you through fingerprint and retinal scans. 

Easiest way not to get lost, especially since you’ve been particularly harried in the lead-up to the official start of your job at Wayne Enterprises as their spokesperson. 

“Sorry,” you sigh. “Is that why you’re up? Because I told you, you don’t need to wake up for this, you can stay in bed…”

He raises an eyebrow. “And let you freak out for the next hour and a half before you have to leave?”

“Um. Yes?”

A soft smile. He reaches for you, hands settling on your arms, rubbing small circles there. 

“Well, you’re wrong. It’s your first day at WE.”

“I know, but you didn’t have to get up now at least…”

The original idea when you decided to wake up at five-fifteen is that one, it would give you ample time to get ready—both yourself and your belongings—and two, it would let you try to relax. 

Key word being try.

It’s now six, you’re supposed to leave in an hour and fifteen minutes to beat the morning rush traffic, and your nerves are none the better for it. 

Your sleep was fitful, too, in anticipation of today, so you’re starting to feel sleepiness creep in at the edges; the fact that the sun has not yet risen and won’t rise for a while—cursed winter months and their late sunrises—does not help.

He eyes you. “I think I do.”

You groan, dropping your forehead on his shoulder. “I can’t do this.”

He squeezes your arms. “Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t. They’re going to eat me alive.”

If not for being the new girl, then certainly because your boyfriend was, actually, once major shareholder of the company when he was seventeen and no, it doesn’t matter that he was just a figurehead and Lucius was actually pulling the strings—it still happened and Tim worked closely with the company for several years after. And then, of course, it will also be because your boyfriend is the adoptive son of the man who owns the actual company. 

Even if you waited before joining, even if you actually applied for the position! Yes, applied! Contrary to what a few tabloids are saying right now, you did not go up to Tim (or Bruce, depending on which gossip column you’re reading) and demand the job. You went through the same channels as absolutely anyone else would.

Tim ducks his head to press a kiss to your neck. You can’t help your shiver and you know he feels it by the way he smiles against your skin. “No, they won’t. That’s my job. They can’t take that away from me.”

“Now is so not the time—”

He laughs, pulling away; you do the same to look at him. 

“You’re going to be fine, gorgeous. You had Linda and Iris regularly pressing you these last few weeks and you did very well with them. Not to mention your last two jobs…”

You purse your lips.

“Two years with Quickstart Enterprises,” he lists. “Two more with the Justice League. Still bitter you picked them over the Titans, by the way.”

“They were more hardcore. Sorry.”

“Well, see? You and the rest of the team had to salvage the League’s image after each alien invasion or otherwise massive destruction committed during a mission and you guys did it. I mean, the publicity campaign you came up with was brilliant, you know that, right? Support was the highest it’s ever been while you were there.”

Right… In an effort to better the League’s image with the public after a particularly nasty fight that left multiple city blocks destroyed and more questions about the relevancy of the team, you decided the more prominent League members needed to create more solid images for themselves, that way each time the public or news saw them, it wasn’t always about the latest incident that brought their presence in. To do this, they needed to pick something to sponsor or support and start showing for it. Superman took an interest in accessibility to education, Wonder Woman focused on preserving wildlife and ecosystems, along with world landmarks, and Batman—with immense detail and planning to abide by his stiff rule not to be seen before the masses—focused on rehabilitation programs.

It brought in a lot of good coverage as more Leaguers agreed to do it and it did help. Helped a lot. Not to say those in the League were not helping, of course, either suited up in their own cities or with their public personas, but that was the issue. The League was capable of much more destruction collectively than individually and the public didn’t know that Batman was funding hundreds of programs to help impoverished communities in Gotham, mostly because he did that as Bruce Wayne and that connection would never be made known.

But that was the job. And you did it. Excellently. You would’ve stayed on for a little while longer but then you got kidnapped towards the end and that just wasn’t fun.

(Fortunately, however, there was a clause in your signing contract that states that in the event of a kidnapping, the League is obligated to rescue you. 

Fair is fair, you think, for helping maintain their image and ensure that the UN doesn’t pull the plug and that the public doesn’t completely despise them.)

And of course, if you managed to survive working with the League and being kidnapped because of that work, then you should be entirely prepared to take on Wayne Enterprises. It should be chump change, if anything, but again, you go in with preconceived notions about yourself and your reputation. Not so great.

But would you back out?

No way. 

“I believe in you,” he murmurs, his gaze warm and reassuring. “All of us do. You know Steph does.”

A pause, everything falling silent, save for the snores coming from the guest bedroom, where Steph is asleep.

“I’m not missing your first day at WE,” she had said the night before. “So, you better wake me up before you leave.”

He grins a bit teasingly at a particularly loud snore. “Like a train, right?”

“Like you’re any better.”

“I am not that loud.”

“What is it with me and attracting people who snore?”

Honestly.

“Speaking of, you know Wally and Linda believe in you. You can do this. It’s just ‘cause it’s the first day. Get through it and everything will be better.”

Which is true. You know that. Have been repeating that in your head as today approached and your nerves grew in intensity.

But everything is easier in theory than in practice. 

“I know,” you whisper, closing your eyes. “I know.”

You can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks next. “That’s why I’m here. Why we’re all here.”

“To knock some sense into me?”

“To do that gently,” he chuckles. 

“I don’t know. I might need the force.”

“Well, I can call Damian if you want.”

“I don’t need that much force… on a scale, maybe something like Linda.”

“It’s good thing she and Wally are going to be here soon for breakfast, then.”

For the same reason Steph spent the night and Tim dragged himself out of bed—for your first day of work.

For you. 

You pull him into a hug, overwhelmed at the thought and not at all caring about wrinkling your clothes. You can fix that. But this… this needs to be made known. 

“I love you.”

He squeezes you—gently, trying to mitigate any wrinkles, and the thought makes your heart swell with unbridled love—and kisses your temple. 

“I love you. We all do.”

And isn’t that something? 

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[13thdoctorposts]

Sometimes it’s important to know when to let a show go. 

When 13 regenerated into 14 and had her clothes burnt off like a witch on a stake, sending a horrible message about women and gender RTD came out and said he did it to protect David from right wing media. Then the fans defended David coming back and that RTD would address why he had that face and why the clothes also regenerated, although I was upset with 13s regeneration I thought ok I’ll wait and see how this get handles. Because even though I don’t like the real world messaging maybe the in world messaging will be enough to make it ok.

But then what happens? We get a trans story for the very first story with very positive messaging for trans issues which is great but undermined by the fact RTD wanted to protect David from gender critiques by the right wing but didn’t seem to want to protect Yasmin Finney. So first David can’t wear Jodies costume for protection but then RTD has Yasmin live through being deadnamed in the show which she herself has said made her uncomfortable and then also gave her character the line of telling the Doctor to not assume pronouns… which any of the characters could have done but RTD chose Rose and then what happen? What always happens with the right wing, the pronoun line and the male presenting line are the ones that the right wing all go on about in every video, in every article… they deadname the character and then misgender and say horrible things about Yasmin… so RTD protects the 50+ year old white man who’s worn way more feminine things then 13 outfit in his career the media could use if they wanted to go after him but don’t protect the 20 year old Trans Woman? How people aren’t talking about how fucked up that is I don’t know.

Then we get no reason why the Doctor has that face and why the clothes regenerated on them. Then in their own regeneration… they don’t! They bi-regenerates and this time Ncuti does get the Doctor clothes, well half of them… why didn’t 15 regenerate with their own clothes? No instead we have the new Doctor walking around with no pants on… and why is it that 15 has to go pantless and not David? are we protecting David again? Perfectly fine to have a bunch of pics of 15 in his tighty whities and no pants but again David could not be seen in 13s full gender neutral outfit. 

Then to top all this off theres no mention in the loves lost of Yaz… even though the Doctor chose to drop her off in a park 3 days ago after telling her if they could Date anyone it would be Yaz… is that not love lost? Was saying good bye to Yaz not an emotional trigger? Now people are saying thats because only the dead were brought up… Rose is not dead unlike Yaz Rose is not only alive in another Dimension but also got herself a Doctor… Yaz currently is mourning the Doctor while they cant even seem to remember she existed despite dropping her off 3 days a go… so they weren’t all dead… however Rose was over 1000 years ago and Yaz 3 days ago… what hurts more the lost of someone you loved but who is still alive from 50 years ago or the one you lost last week? What makes logical sense is the love you lost most recently hurts the most… and people dont need to die for you to hurt losing them from your life if you love them.

Now we have 2 Doctors and people are already saying they can’t wait for David Tennant episodes, so if you think the 10th Doctor overshadowed the other Doctors when he was no longer the Doctor how overshadowed do you think the first main Doctor of colour is going to be when lots of peoples favourite white Doctor ever is also a legitimate Doctor in universe existing at the exact same time with a TARDIS? Ncuti doesn’t event get to be the only Doctor during his tenure he has to share it with David.  

The lastly no mentions of Yaz at all… seems shes completely forgotten and at the very end the Doctor says they are finally with their family the happiest he’s ever been… what a diss of every TARDIS team ever that the Doctor has found family with… your last crew you literally called your ‘Fam’, the Ponds you actually married into… Susan was your flesh and blood… but no this family you haven’t seen in 1000 years, of which only one of who was part of your TARDIS team are the ones you finally found family with and make you the happiest you’ve ever be? Literally at the exact same time the Doctor is sitting at that table saying all of that, Yaz is mourning the Doctor and not wanting to have left the TARDIS, but she doesn’t get a mention because for some reason if it’s a wlw relationship it means nothing and can be ignored completely. 

Honestly by the end the Doctor just seems like a complete prick, and not in a 13 I’m dealing with internal trauma and I accidentally snapped way but just in a I’m a shit person way. Talk about compromised morals, people wouldn’t shut up about it with 13 but the Doctor just left a young woman to mourn them while being the “happiest they have ever been” grabbing themselves a new family and pretending Yaz doesn’t exist. Talk about shit morals. People say Chibs didn’t know anything from 12s era, which wasn’t true it directly affected the way 13 kept the fam at arms length but after watching this clearly RTD didn’t even know what happened in the episode 14 regenerated from 13 in and the previous episode Legend of the Sea Devils, because surely if you did, you wouldn’t not mention Yaz at all and give a reason why the Doctor wouldn’t go see her while she’s mourning them and just grabbing a new family and claiming to be the happiest you’ve ever been in the 2000 years of life you remember. Because that would make the character look like a prick, not a hero, which is exactly what happened. If RTD is the amazing writer people claim, he could have come up with a Yaz mention and a reason why the Doctor wasn’t going to see her.

I know not everyone was happy with the wlw representation with Thasmin but you know what’s way worse? Not even mentioning it or even acknowledging Yaz’s existence.

And to top it off I am so very very over the double standard of the fandom… this episode, had plot holes, had important things that weren’t explained… like why that face and why did the clothes regenerate… things that weren’t explained that weren’t so important like where did the sonic screw driver come from, why can it do all the things it now does… it had racism from both the Toymaker and Donna… what on earth was that line about ‘do you come in every colour’, was paced poorly, it clearly should have been longer and decided to mess with lore by creating bi-rengeration out of thin air and not explaining how it would effect things going forward or why it even happen, like a true WTF… if Chibs had done even one of these things, or wrote this episode the exact same way the fandom would be coming for him instead they are praising the genius of RTD not caring about any of those things, all the sins they claimed Chibs did and some of them on a bigger scale in this episode but the treatment of RTD is the polar opposite. 

It’s unbelievably hypocritical, and makes the fandom look even worse for being so hard on the first female Doctor because none of this was acceptable for her but its not only fine but great with a male Doctor.

So I think it’s time for me to let this show go, and know it’s time to bow out. Because unlike the people who have been horrible about 13 for the last 6 years I understand sometimes you have to step away from something you love when its no longer for you and leave it for other people to love.

Im out with 13.

[basmathgirl]

I feel bad for Donna that she is stuck with the sad old weasel version of the Doctor. The way she looked at Fifteen!!! Overall Fifteen is probably the most conventionally attractive, the most outright sexy and fit Doctor (ever?). Not saying the others weren’t attractive at all, but back then they portrayed the Doctor more in the nerdy/ geeky-attractive kinda way. I think considering Fifteen’s charm, charisma, humour and looks, after his run he might end up as “The Sexy Doctor”. I know Donna would agree. In general the new TARDIS-Team with Millie Gibson, Varada Sethu and of course Ncuti Gatwa is ridiculously good looking. I guess New New Who doesn’t allow “ugly”/ normal looking people any longer. 😂

Hello kind Anon

I get the feeling that you are a great deal younger than I am (and rather ageist), because I know the "sad old weasel version of the Doctor"

will be only a temporary situation. Soon, he'll be back to his cheerful, pre-bigeneration self. Look at how delighted he was to be reuninited with Donna

And Donna doesn't seem to mind at all with being 'stuck' with him.

especially when her old best friend ocassionally looks at her like this:

Even the Not-Thing!Doctor knew how he felt about her.

I totally agree that the Fifteenth Doctor is a very attractive man/being. His good looks, kindness, intelligence and charm won us all over instantly upon his emergence.

Oh yes, he knows what he's doing to us.

But as for "the most outright sexy and fit Doctor (ever?)" well... I was around for the anouncement of Peter Davison as the Fifth Doctor; and Paul McGann as the Eighth Doctor. Both were generally considered very fine specimens of manhood, back in the day! And truth be told, I still get a thrill out of seeing them in anything. Sexiness is a matter of personal taste, after all. Plus, while I appreciate Ncuti Gatwa visually (among other things), I feel he is rather too young for me. I'm more likely to pat his cheek and try to feed him up.

Grandmothers, eh?! What are we like.

We've only had one episode of RTD's latest Season 1 run (if we ignore the 60th anniversary specials) so as far as "I guess New New Who doesn’t allow “ugly”/ normal looking people any longer. 😂" is concerned, it's a bit hard to tell how influential the move to Disney+ has over the general casting. Especially when you try to dodge any spoilers. Not that Moffat was immune to casting based on looks rather than talent, but I am expecting to see more conventially attractive people to appear in the coming episodes.

Of course, I'm hoping that the old trend of hiring decent actors rather than model/actors will be maintained, but you never know how that extra streaming coinage will be. The casting of attractive companions like Millie Gibson and Varada Sethu was no surprise at all. *mentally beats the 'something for the dads' thinking to a pulp* In fact, it's refreshing when that doesn't happen.

Personally, I want RTD to create those DW spinoffs he jokingly referred to when the Disney+ announcement was made. Those tend to be pretty good and/or interesting.

In conclusion, while I really love the new, Fifteenth Doctor and look forward to seeing his adventures.

Donna certainly appreciated his physique and good looks, but I could never turn my back on the Fourteenth Doctor. I mean... Just look at him

He needs our special love. Especially because he loves and adores Donna. In the way she deserves to be.

[theconquerorwormhoard]

Hi, Could you give the idea of reader x twelfth doctor who has Bill as a companion and who in a few words is a bit of a jealous doctor? either because they met someone great on a trip or because the reader is very much involved in his life on earth.

Thanks!

(yessssssssssssss I need to write more 12)

Jealousy

Rating: G

Pairing(s): 12th Doctor x Reader

Tags/TW: 12 is a jealous lad

You were used to trips not quite going the way you'd planned. It was almost a guarantee. But needless to say, rejecting the marriage proposal of a cyborg queen was... Definitely unexpected.

You, the Doctor, and Bill ran through the mechanical castle. "I don't see why it couldn't work out," Bill said, "I mean, she seemed nice enough-"

"Before she sent her guards after us, you mean?" you replied, just before the hallway began to shift. The three of you were trapped in a dead end that hadn't been there before.

The Doctor hadn't stopped fidgeting with his sonic screwdriver the entire chase, and it seemed that he'd finally found what he was looking for. He pointed it at the wall with a flourish, giving you and Bill a tiny grin before grabbing your hand.

The TARDIS was somewhere in the royal gardens, but with the hallways changing, you had no idea where you were supposed to be going. "Doctor, how are we getting out of here?" you asked, panting.

"I've tuned into the queen's frequency, I can reverse all of her changes," he said, and you frowned.

"So she controls the castle?"

"No. She is the castle. She's integrated it all into her upgrades. Quite foolish actually, once we escape, she won't be able to follow," the Doctor explained, tugging you around a corner.

Bill chimed in, "But the guards will! Right? I mean, they're not a part of the castle, they're just movin' on their own."

The Doctor paused before giving a shrug, saying, "If I'm right, the TARDIS is through that door, and we won't have to worry about it."

So the three of you bolted to the door, which thankfully led out into the gardens. The TARDIS waited patiently in the center of the queen's prized flower bed, and as the sound of mechanical guards closed in, you knew you couldn't risk a look back. The three of you piled into the TARDIS and slammed the door behind you.

Bill immediately tossed her jacket over one of the rails, saying, "Well that was... All kinds of fun but I'm beat, I'll be in the rec room. Let me know when we get back, alright?"

You gave her a smile and a wave while the Doctor gave a soft grunt, circling the console. Bill disappeared down a hallway, and you stepped towards the Doctor.

He yanked a lever and the TARDIS made a tremendous noise; he then quickly pulled the lever back to its original position, grumbling under his breath.

You rested an elbow on the railing. "Doctor?" you asked.

"Hm?"

"What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Nothing's wrong, we're on our way, everything is fine!"

You crossed your arms. "Mhm."

He turned to face you, saying, "What? I answered your question."

You raised an eyebrow and said, "Barely. C'mon, what's wrong?" Taking a step closer, you added, "Can't have anything to do with the fact that I was proposed to today, can it?"

He rolled his eyes and waved a hand at you, turning back to the console. "What, that? Nonsense."

You smirked. "Didn't seem like nonsense when you rejected her for me."

He paused for a moment before flipping a row of switches, saying, "You were hesitating."

You held back a chuckle and said, "That's what you're upset about? The fact that I hesitated, upon hearing that the queen of some planet - that you dragged me to! - wanted to marry me?"

"Oh c'mon, I didn't drag you, you wanted to go on a trip."

"You're avoiding the question and you know it," you said, barely able to hold back a smile.

He halted what he was doing and turned to face you, saying, "And what if I am?"

You shrugged. "Look, if you don't want to talk about it, fine. But if it's bothering you, you can't just avoid it forever." You stepped a little closer and placed a hand on his shoulder, saying, "At the end of the day, I turned her down."

"You did."

"Mhm, 'cause why wouldn't I? I've got everything I want right here."

The Doctor betrayed a small smile.

[bi-bard]

I'm Back Between Villages, and Everything's Still - Tenth Doctor Imagine [Doctor Who]

Title: I'm Back Between Villages, and Everything's Still

Pairing: Tenth Doctor X Reader

Based On: The View Between Villages - Extended

Word Count: 1.516 words

Warning(s): bad parents, mention of bad childhood

Summary: A further look into the trip that the Doctor and (Y/n) took to (Y/n)'s hometown. The one place that (Y/n) never wanted to walk into again.

Author's Note: I had to reread what I wrote for the first part this because it has been a hot minute that story came out.

PART ONE HERE

STICK SEASON [WE'LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER] - NOAH KAHAN WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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I expected showing the Doctor around my hometown to be more terrifying than it was.

At first, my steps were heavy.

I didn't know where to go. I didn't have many roots left in that town. My biggest fear was being recognized and stopped by someone that I never wanted to see again.

But after a while, I found myself relaxing.

I was able to find some joy in the places that we were going. I was able to tell small stories. Not all of them were entirely happy, but it still felt good to share them.

I had spent a long time trying to hide my history from not just the Doctor but myself. Being able to look back at it was almost healing. Especially when there was someone holding my hand.

"I have one place that I want to visit," I said as the two of us walked back to the TARDIS. "If that's alright."

"It's your trip," he replied. "Where are we going?"

"To see my parents."

He paused for a moment. He must have seen the fear on my face. "Alright."

We got into the TARDIS. I told him where to go- and to park down the road from the actual house- before I sat down on one of the benches. I felt my leg shaking, heart pounding, and breathing becoming shakier.

"(Y/n)..."

I looked at the Doctor.

"We're here," he said. "We don't have to do this. We could go."

"No, no," I shook my head. "I... I need to see them."

He nodded.

"I mean... After spending so long running through time and space, I could at least let them know that I'm alive."

He grinned a bit.

"Oh, by the way, they don't properly know anything about you or the TARDIS or aliens or anything... just that I've been traveling."

"As long as I don't get slapped."

"Has that... Has that happened when meeting someone's parents?"

"... sometimes."

I slowly nodded.

"Come on," he said excitedly, sticking a hand out to me.

I stood at the end of my parent's driveway for longer than I care to admit. The Doctor didn't walk forward without me. He stood next to me with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Are you ready," I asked as if I wasn't the one stopping us.

"Whenever you are," he replied, smiling at me.

I stepped forward. My feet felt heavier with each step. I had a million thoughts going through my head and none of them felt particularly good.

I knocked on the door and took a deep breath.

The door opened and I found my mom standing on the other side.

A wide smile crossed her lips. "(Y/n)!"

I felt a sigh of relief escape me as I hugged her back. I thought that I would be met with the door closing in my face or some kind of angry rant. I guess that I saw it as comforting that she hadn't bitten my head off already.

Most of the visit was perfectly fine. My parents met the Doctor- who very kindly introduced himself as John Smith to help me- and they seemed alright with him. They seemed to be okay with my traveling and they wanted to hear about it.

Nothing could have beat my grandmother's reaction.

She stormed into the house after my mom called her. I was dragged into the tightest hug that I had ever been given and then met with a million questions.

It was nice.

I was starting to relax. Take a few deep breaths and feel like everything was going to be just fine.

And then, dinner.

We had sat down together. There was small talk. Everyone seemed to be eating in peace. Nothing gave me any indication that the night was going to take the turn that it did.

"So, John," my dad spoke up. "Do you hide (Y/n)'s phone or was it a shared decision?"

"Dad," I snapped immediately.

"What, it's an honest question," he shrugged.

"Bullshit," I replied. "Is it that hard to believe that I did something that you didn't like on my own?"

"What are we expected to believe when you never call," my mom asked.

"Why do you think that is?" I countered.

I felt the Doctor reaching over and grabbing my hand under the table. I assumed that my anger was somewhat new to him. I wasn't one to be explicitly angry. I would usually hold it in.

To be fair, the things that we confronted never felt quite so personal.

"Oh, is this about that stuff from when you were a teenager?" my mom pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Stop calling it just 'stuff'," I shouted.

"Always need to overreact," my dad muttered.

That seemed to open a can of worms that refused to be closed again.

I felt as if my throat was closing up. I couldn't even fight back against the rant of disappointment and annoyance and bullshit.

I closed my eyes at the comments and the growing arguing. My head was pounding. My chest felt tight and heavy. My eyes felt as if they had been cemented shut. I couldn't look my parents in the eyes if I wanted to. I had started digging my nails into the Doctor's hand, which I was certain was going to hurt him.

"All of you, hush!"

The table fell silent as my grandmother raised her voice for the first time that evening.

I finally lifted my head again. I found her already looking at me.

"Step outside with me, darling," she instructed, pushing herself out of the seat. I followed her. "The rest of you sit here and pull yourselves together."

I followed her outside to the porch. She guided me to the porch swing, sitting next to me with my hands clasped in hers.

"I'm sorry that you had to deal with them, dear," she said. "I can't believe that they are surprised that you don't see visiting them as important when they behave like that."

"It's... It's alright," I shook my head. "They were right. I just ran away with no warning. I never call, never visit-"

"Because of their actions," she replied. "What they did and what they refused to do. And because this place isn't enough for you. And that's okay."

I sighed. "You spent your whole life making a life here. So did my parents. I... I just like I've been ungrateful."

"No, no, not at all," she shook her head. "This place was enough for me and your parents. It never was for you. I know that. You were always bound for something better than this. Your parents are scared of that and it caused what you saw tonight... what you've seen for a long time."

There was a long pause.

"Tell me... are you happy traveling with that man in there," she asked.

I nodded. "Yeah... I really am."

"Then go with him," she pushed. "And call me from wherever you're visiting. Your parents can't guilt you if they're hearing everything from me... I'd like to see them try."

I chuckled.

"I love you, sweetheart. And I love the person that you've grown to be."

"I love you too."

She leaned over and hugged me. I closed my eyes as I hugged her back. It was the first moment of pure support I had ever been offered regarding my traveling. And it was everything to me.

We both leaned back when the front door opened. The Doctor stepped out and offered us both an awkward smile.

"Sorry, I don't mean to intrude, but I think I was just adding to some of the... tension in there," he explained.

"It's alright," my grandmother replied as she stood up. "We were just wrapping up."

I stood up with her.

"I suppose you both are off, then?"

I looked at the Doctor, who was already looking at me for an answer.

"Yeah, we are," I said, looking at her.

"Good luck, sweetheart," she touched my arm.

"Thank you," I mumbled.

She stood on the porch and watched us as we walked away. I glanced back when we made it to the end of the driveway. She waved at us with a wide smile on her face. I waved back at her.

I grabbed the Doctor's hand as we walked down the street toward the TARDIS. He didn't respond, merely making sure that our fingers were still intertwined. The walk was silent. It was a nice change from the chaos earlier, which still had my ears ringing a bit.

Once we made it inside the ship, the Doctor dropped my hand, going to start flying us out of there.

"Doctor," I said after a minute.

"Yeah," he asked.

I jogged over and wrapped my arms around him. I closed my eyes and hid my face in his shoulder. He hugged me back, letting out a quiet sigh as he did so.

"Thank you," I muttered. "For everything."

"You have nothing to thank me for," he replied just as quietly.

Oh, how wrong he was.

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Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[ghostlynachopanda]

Rest

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

words: 1.6k

~~~

Wednesday notices almost everything happening around her, it's one of the things she takes pride in. Being observant comes at a price though. Sometimes there are things she wishes she hadn't seen. For instance, she noticed the light slowly drain from your eyes.

Wednesday took notice of everything regarding you. Anything that could possibly have an effect on you is something she took note of. Homework, sleep schedule, brainless classmates, lack of nutrition? Just a few examples she took mental notes of when it came to you.

She knew when you would get hungry, knew when you would get tired, and knew your preferred times to study. Wednesday had your schedule down to the second. She took small pride in that too.

When you were occasionally a few minutes late, she would chalk it up to mere inconveniences. Of course, she would notice how frequent they were becoming in the last couple of weeks. It was beginning to irritate her. Whenever Wednesday would ask about your tardiness you would dodge the question; immediately moving the topic to something that seemed more interesting. Wednesday took note of that too.

The time you were spending with Wednesday was decreasing, only by a minuscule amount but decreasing nonetheless. The knowledge you were spending less time with her made her stomach sink, she doesn't have the faintest clue making the feeling worse. However, whenever you were with her she took every opportunity to take you in — everything about you.

You appeared to have less energy than normal. Your appearance seems more disheveled, though to anyone else you’d look just fine. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it used to. During class, sometimes your eyes would stay closed for just a tad too long for it to be normal. The circles under your eyes are becoming distastefully dark. When she was close enough, your breath always smelled like coffee. Your stomach growls more often. It seems like you were being secretive about something. 

She thought of these things often — seeing as they're thrust in her face every time she looks at you. If she were being honest, you looked pitiful. A look she would savor if it were anyone else. But, you’re not 'anyone else'.

Wednesday doesn't know how to bring this up. Anytime she would insinuate something remotely similar you would rub the back of your neck and answer in a prevaricate way. It was beginning to infuriate her in a way she hadn’t known was possible.

You were always the patient one, waiting for Wednesday to think her words through carefully. You were never one to answer questions falsely. You never kept anything from her, you tried to answer any questions to the best of your ability. It's one of the things she appreciated about your character.

Wednesday had thought a lot about the situation. She had tried being delicate with you, even if doing so made her want to peel her skin. Despite that, she had tried because it was you. She wants answers, if being nice about it wasn't working then she'd approach it her way.

Wednesday begrudgingly adapted to your new schedule. One you've been using for the last couple of weeks. She sat in her dorm, counting the seconds until your knock disturbed the still air. Wednesday silently wondered if you’d break the record for how late you could be.

When your knock finally came, she took a moment. 714 seconds, a new record, it's officially the latest you've ever been. Wednesday stood from her chair and made her way to the door, yanking it open without care.

You stood on the other side, again, looking pitiful and miserable. It painfully makes her heartthrob. Her hands twitch to rub away the dark circles under your eyes. Instead, she settles for opening the door wider to let you in.

Wednesday watches you move around the room for a moment. Ordinarily, you moved around in a relaxed manner as if it were your room. This time you were sluggish, moving about as if you were barely conscious.

It didn’t take a genius to know you were tired. Wednesday had known you've been neglecting to take care of yourself since you started. It had been disturbingly obvious — as obvious as the sun on a clear day. She just didn’t know how you’d react to her confrontation.

Wednesday watches you stumble before deciding to step in. She walks towards you before grabbing your wrist to guide you to her chair.

"Sit down," Wednesday said breaking the silence. You turn to look at her before asking,

"You usually sit at your desk when we study. Are you sure you don’t want it?"

She sends you a glare, making you quickly avert eye contact. She watches you slowly sit down in her chair, noticing how your shoulders sag and your eyelids droop. It seems you were more tired than she had anticipated.

Wednesday feels herself get pulled into her head. Wondering how long you've been walking around in this state. She feels the need to drag you to bed so you can get some proper rest. But she's overcome with the need to scold you for doing this to yourself.

"You're tired," Wednesday says without thinking. Your eyes widen slightly before you nervously smile and rub the back of your neck.

"No, I'm not. I don’t know what you're talking about," you chuckle lightly before looking at her. Hoping your eyes will be enough to convince her to let it go.

"Lie to me again and I'll make you regret it," she said sharply. Her eyes swirling with fury.

Her words make you snap your mouth shut. You didn't know just how angry she was. You lightly shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts from how terrifying she looked. The action made you dizzy and made your head throb with an unforeseen headache, and you wince. Wednesday notices. Her anger flares.

"Imprudent," she says lowly. Her voice was thunderous in the quiet room. You open your mouth to refute, but she begins again before you can answer.

"Injudicious. Irresponsible. Ill-considered. Just how foolish can you get?" she demands, looking at you expectantly. Her gaze makes you tense. Wednesday had never looked at you with such conviction before. When she realizes you aren't going to answer she scoffs, "Well?"

Your mouth opens but no sounds come out. Your throat feels tight, making it hard for any words to come out. Your thoughts are loud. You were tired but there was too much happening for you to properly rest. Too many things needed to get done. Would Wednesday understand?

Wednesday watches you closely. Your eyes slowly fill with unshed tears and your parted lips tremble. She takes a breath to calm herself. Taking calculated steps towards you before kneeling in front of you.

"Hey," she says gently, breaking you from your thoughts. You involuntarily flinch at the close distance, it hurts Wednesday more than anticipated.

 "It's just me. You're safe." she continues gently, reaching out to grab your hands. Watching as you move them away slightly before letting her hold them. Wednesday softly sighs at the contact, feeling a little calmer now that your skin is on hers.

"Why are you acting this way?" she asks softly, not wanting you to run away. She reaches her hand out to grasp your cheek when she sees you avert your gaze. Seeing the number of tears in your eyes makes her heartbreak. She brings her other hand to your face, ready to wipe any fallen tears.

"I'm just tired, Wednesday" you replied weakly. The way Wednesday is looking at you overwhelms you. Not expecting such a tender and adoring look. You squeeze your eyes closed, forcing the tears out.

Wednesday readily wipes them away. She watches you duck your head, trying to hide from her. She feels your body shake with unshed tears. It physically pains her to see you like this. As much as she'd like to move you to the bed to rest, she'd wait as long as it took till you were ready.

"I'm sorry," you said after a minute, forcing out a laugh; trying to lighten the situation. Breath shaking as you continue, "that must have been really uncomfortable for you."

"Don't do that," she said seriously. Her hands grip your face tighter, forcing you to look at her again. She doesn’t give you a chance to reply before she's standing and pulling you with her. When you see her destination you stop, "Wait. There's a lot of things-"

"I already told you not to do that," she replied, anger somewhat hidden in her tone.

"Wednesday-"

"No. Rest now. You'll have time to do your things later."

You sigh defeatedly, knowing she won’t give up. You let her tug you in the direction of her bed before she gently pushes you to sit on the edge. You watch as she kneels down to take off your shoes before moving to take hers off too.

When she stands up and sees you still sitting up she sends you another pointed look. She hums and nods when she sees you start to lie down. She moves to the unoccupied side of the bed before she lays down next to you.

Wednesday moves to wrap her arms around you. Letting you move to get as comfortable as possible, wanting you to get your much-needed rest. It’s not long before she feels your body completely relax and your breath even out. Wednesday lets the relief she feels overtake her. For the first time in two weeks, she lets herself completely relax.

tags: @alexkolax @rainbow-love4ever @o638 @tundra1029 @greyscxle-is-taken

[tangerinelabyrinth]

"The Doctor didn't treat Martha badly at all."

Right, What's all this then.

After kissing her (Which meant nothing) shows up to where she is and asks her if she wants to take a trip in the Tardis only to yell at her that's she's not replacing Rose shortly after she agrees.

Dismissive about her concerns about her race and traveling to the past.

Weirdly casual about sharing a bed then talks about Rose and how she would know what to say to him and do in this situation.

Takes her to the same places he took Rose. (This one's complicated too me but it obviously hurt her feelings, so we are putting it in here)

 When Martha was just happy to see him because they had been separated and he was like, "You can kiss me later" or something along those lines. (But absolutely zero mixed signals there.)

Says he is going to leave and comes back and let's not mention Picks up her underwear in her apartment (like why)

TAKES HER BACK TO 1913 AND HAS HER TAKE CARE OF HIM WHILE HES HUMAN AND FALLS IN LOVE WITH A WOMAN WHO IS RACIST TO HER!!! THEN INVITES THE SAME WOMAN TO TRAVEL WITH THEM!!!! And all she gets is a thanks.

Gets them stuck in 1969 and has her work in a shop to support him.

Finished explaining the perception filter and then ran back to add "It's like when you fancy someone, and they don't even know you exist."

Hinted at that he gets her the job at UNIT only to be upset when she works at UNIT. (This reasonably could be because she ended up more like a solider than he wanted but still)

It goes without saying that while all of this is happening, Martha continues to hustle through every episode she is in and saves not only The Doctor but the entire world! The Doctor is 100 percent fine with not reciprocating her feelings and is perfectly fine to still not be over Rose. That isn't the issue here; the problem is that he just treats Martha like she's nothing and it's a burden to travel with her (even though he asked her to travel with him and had multiple opportunities to leave if he wanted) after she constantly proves herself and saves him multiple times. Its infuriating to me and it makes me more upset when people don’t see how much differently she is treated than Rose and Donna and paint Martha as this aggressor who also plays a role and is responsible for how he treated her when that's not the case at all. I understand that a large part of Martha's story was that The Doctor didn't see her but why? And why is this used almost as an excuse for his behavior? 

I could more in depth, but I don't think I have the right words to properly articulate and describe all my feelings, but this is what I got.