Put Me Back In The Oven I Am NOT Done Baking

put me back in the oven i am NOT done baking

Hope you’re felling Italian boys

01. Run Little Bird (A Dr. Who Story)

Time was a funny thing, she had found out. And apparently much more complicated than she ever anticipated. She still wasn’t sure what was in that tomb, what had cursed her, but she was stuck with her consequences, and when torchwood had found her, well it was only a bit of a shock when they told her aliens exist, time travel too. Some aliens look like us, others don’t, some are friendly, others evil with hatred in their hearts. When Jack harkness had offered her a ‘job’ of sorts, traveling through space and time, stopping disasters from wiping out whole planets and races, and saving people. It made the fact that she was supposedly going to live forever mean a little bit more, to know she was putting her life to use. 

“What should we call you?” Jack had asked her one day, she opened her mouth but nothing came out, she wasn’t sure. Which seemed redundant, she had a name, has a name. But a part of her felt like she died when she broke the ushabti in that sarcophagus in Egypt, and a new woman had come out-a woman with all the time in the universe to spare. She thought for a moment, before giving him an answer.

“Robin.” 

That was nearly six months ago, and how Robin went on a scouting mission to a distress signal on a planet a few light years away, somehow ended up with her being held captive by a zygon fleet, ws beyond her understanding of things. “Who do you work for?” The zygons demanded, a human amongst a planet of lizard people tended to stand out a bit, she figured. “Who said I worked for anyone?” She quipped back, “Humans have no place here.” One spat, “Who said I was human?” She was playing a stupid game for most, but she was trying to buy Jack time to call someone, anyone to help her save these people. One zygon looks to another, before he’s ripping a child from her family, crying for her mother. Robin leaps forward, but is held back by the two aliens flanking her sides, but she struggles anyway.

“Let her go! She’s innocent! I’m the one you want!” She pleads, “Human.” One of the zygon spits, “Always too sentimental.” The little girl is wailing in the zygons arms for her parents, and it rips at Robin’s heart. “I swear to you, I am not an enemy you want to make.” he zygons laugh at her, “humans are weak, harmless.” Their leader responds. “Well this one has all of time and space to hunt you down, and I will, now let these people go, they don’t have anything for you!” The door once locked suddenly bursts open, a man, with a striped suit, a long coat, and a worn pair of sneakers, strolling in, like a walk in the park. “Hello there.” He says, almost like a friend. “Who are you?!” The Zygons demand, “Me? Well, I’m the doctor.” The rest of the firefight is a blur of innocent people running from the battle, and Robin somehow finding herself fighting side by side with a man she doesn’t know but has no option other than to trust. And after barring the doors to buy some time she sees the doctor pressing buttons, flipping a switch, and pulling a screwdriver that glows out of his coat before the console erupts with sparks. 

“What do we do now?” Robin asks, still attempting to catch her breath. The doctor takes her hand in his, a comforting gesture that sends a shiver through her bones. A wide grin breaks onto his face, “Now we run.” The two of them break through the hallway, rushing through the flashing lights and warning signals, right towards a London police box. “Right then, in you hop!” He pushes Robin forward into it before following her in, she’s stuck in her spot, the ceiling never seems to end, and they’re staircases that lead deeper into the contraption she’s been shoved into.

“Go on, say it, everyone does.” The doctor smiles as he navigates the tardis’ center console. “It’s bigger on the inside.” The doctor’s smile only grows, “I love it when they say it.”

Freshly broken up with after nearly year. Who-hoo.

Good snek

This is Money Snake. She only appears every 312 years. 

If you reblog her picture within the next twenty-five seconds you will have good luck and fortune for the rest of your life. 

I aspire to have this

oh, you’d die for her? i would live my entire life dedicated to her