Short From My Story

Short from my story

The Doctor had come a long way from the reckless and borderline suicidal man he was in his ninth incarnation. But he still had moments of sadness.

Like the time the two of you were striding through a field, hand in hand, looking for an ancient cave network that housed 10 foot sparkling crystals.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“This way, y/n. You’re gonna love this! The crystalline structures were formed from silica created by a huge lava pit that used to be here. They’ve been growing for thousands of years. Bioluminescent organisms in the molecules of the crystals make them glow!” The Doctor rambled on happily leading you over rolling hills.

“Doctor I think I see an opening in the hillside over there” You said pointing across the clearing.

“That’s the one!”

He began tugging you in that direction. The two of you trudged down, into a valley between hills.

He had stopped abruptly, forcing you to stop with him. You turned to the Doctor, fully prepared to tug him along impatiently, as he often did to you. But the look on his face made you pause.

Big, sad eyes, framed by his creased brow. You couldn’t quite place the emotion. You followed his gaze back to the scene in front of you. It was beautiful, sure, but not something you’d guess would warrant that look.

But as you took in the mountains, the sinking sun casting an orange halo around them. And the field that stretched out between you, it clicked.

His voice in your memory, leaned towards you and hushed, for your ears only. He spoke of his home. Gallifrey, with its burnt orange sky and giant, magnificent citadel. Incased in a glass dome. You could picture the resemblance.

You could now put a name to the emotion spread across his face; a bittersweet nostalgia., homesickness. Your gaze softened and you took a step closer to him, gently squeezing his hand.

The Doctor finally glanced away from the scene to meet your eyes.

“It’s beautiful here” You say, keeping your voice soft.

“It is, isn’t it?” The Doctor smiles down at you and begins walking again at a slower pace towards the cave.

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. 

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.”

Hope you’re felling Italian boys

Psychic paper

tenth doctor x reader

Summary: In which the psychic paper betrays the Doctor

A/N: The Doctor is fruity, deal with it xx

You’d been traveling with the Doctor for a while now and you loved every minute of it. In that time he had shown you all kinds of things you had priorly deemed impossible; aliens with wiggly tentacles, a spaceship that defies the laws of 3 dimensional space, a buzzing device he calls the Sonic Screwdriver, and homicidal salt shakers with toilet plungers for arms to name just a few. 

It seemed that with every adventure he showed you something new and fascinating, constantly topping himself without even trying. There was so much in all of time and space it wasn’t that hard. Anything outside of the 21st century was new to you. 

This time, the Doctor had taken you to see a mechanics factory in the 35th century, but as always the adventure didn’t end there. Aside from new experiences, the Doctor could almost always promise some kind of trouble. He claimed he didn’t go searching for it but rather that it tended to follow him. Either way, most adventures with the Doctor involved some kind of mischief and usually a lot of running.

“It’s no good, you can only get in with an ID,” you groaned, popping your head back around the corner. “There’s a security guard checking everyone going in and out is an employee.” 

You were hiding in a hallway, hoping to get inside the establishment's headquarters. The Doctor had a hunch that malicious alien forces were behind the operation, but he couldn’t be sure without poking around further. Typical Doctor, he just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“I can’t think of any legal ways to get in there,” you shrugged, turning to the Doctor for ideas. 

“I have identification,” the Doctor smirked, rummaging around in the seemingly endless pockets of his coat. 

“You’re not an employee,” you pointed out. 

The Doctor made a triumphant sound as he pulled what appeared to be a small black notebook out of the depths of his pocket. He flipped it open and you realized it wasn’t a notepad. The item was more like a police badge, minus the actual badge part.

He turned the paper towards you with a smile, clearly expecting you to be impressed 

“Aren’t I?” He grinned brightly, looking at you eagerly. “Psychic paper,” he explained, tapping the stark white paper with his finger.

You grabbed the item from him, squinting at it. You wanted to make sure you were reading it right, maybe your eyes were acting up. 

“This just says ‘I love you’?” You asked, handing the Doctor his weird paper back with a frown. 

“I think that flirting with the security guard is more of a Jack move,” you winced, not wanting to hurt his feelings. The Doctor was quite the charmer, but strategic flirting wasn’t his strong suit.

The Doctor grabbed his psychic paper from you, frowning at it aggressively. It wasn’t supposed to say that. 

“What-?” he asked, glaring at it the same way you did. Once the words registered with him he turned a dark shade of red. He should have been more careful when he handed it over to you.

“It’s not supposed to say that,” he mumbled his thoughts, trying to hide his fluster. 

“How does it work? Is it like a reusable notepad?” You asked, genuinely interested. Even if the Doctor’s tools could be finicky, they were interesting. Maybe he had just forgotten to erase the message from the last time he used it. 

“No, it’s supposed to show the reader what I want them to see,” he blushed, shaking the paper out like a Polaroid. Usually shaking the item would clear it, but those three words refused to fade from the paper. 

“Sometimes it’s a bit slow…” he said, really more to himself than to you. He was still shaking the paper, desperately trying to get the words to disappear. 

“So you were going to try and flirt with the security guard?” You frowned, now you were even more confused. The Doctor would much rather blow the whole place up than try and flirt his way through security. 

“No!” He said, almost a bit too quickly. He blushed again and averted his gaze, an anxious hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He hadn’t planned on telling you like this. He hadn’t planned on telling you at all.

“When I handed it over it was supposed to show you an employee ID,” he winced. You nodded, this much you knew. What you didn’t understand was the confession of love. 

“But I think the psychic paper picked up on my feelings instead,” he whispered. If you hadn’t been listening intently you might have missed the last few words. 

“Are you saying that you love me?” You frowned, looking at the floor with concentration, “or the security guard?” The second option seemed more viable at the moment.

For the first time in a century, the Doctor was speechless. He stared at you, wide-eyed and unblinking as you waited for his answer. If it was possible, his jaw might have fallen to the floor.

“He’s pretty handsome, I can’t blame you,” you added, peeking over the wall to look at the security guard again.

The Doctor shook himself out of it, rambling a string of incoherent words. “I- uh, wha-?” He stumbled, trying to form a sentence.

“I handed the paper to you.” He said definitively.

“It’s a really dramatic way to come out, Doctor.” You continued on, ignoring him. It’s not like you didn’t know already, he wasn’t exactly subtle about it.

“It didn’t say ‘I love men’!” He threw his hands up in distress. “It said ‘I love you’!”

You finally stopped rambling on about the security guard and turned your attention to the Doctor. His words caught up to you and tentatively you pointed at yourself as if there was any other you. The Doctor nodded exasperatedly as if to say “Yes, you!”

“You love me?” you asked, still pointing at yourself. 

“I think I’ve said it about four times now.” 

“You?” You pointed at the Doctor, “Love me?” 

“Blimey! Yes!” He shouted, frustrated now. You widened your eyes and anxiously checked around you, scared he might have given away your location. Thankfully, everyone appeared to be out of earshot. 

“Yes, I love you,” he whispered this time, his eyes boring into yours. You blinked slowly, your brain still refusing to process his confession. 

You smiled brightly, your grin taking over your entire face. The Doctor loved it when you lit up like this, your happiness radiating off of you. He felt a small smile of his own tugging at his lips just looking at you. 

“I hope that’s alright,” he whispered quietly. He would never forgive himself if he lost you over a psychic paper mishap. The embarrassment would be too much - he’d have to run away. Maybe to that planet inhabited by only rubber ducks? 

“That’s more than alright,” you grinned, a hand instinctively reaching up to his arm to comfort him. The fabric of his coat was cold against your palm, but you didn’t pull away.

The Doctor really smiled back at you now, the wild lopsided grin that was reserved just for you. The kind of smile that always made you laugh with joy. 

He wasted no time wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting your body off the ground in excitement. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your familiar scent. You laughed happily, waving your feet about slightly. 

The Doctor pulled back just enough to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. Neither of you could stop smiling, even as your lips met. You laughed against him, planting kisses across his face sloppily. Your lips brushed the tip of his nose, the arch of his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth, and his jawline.

“The security guard is pretty cute though,” the Doctor teased with a sly smile. 

“I knew it!” You burst out laughing, throwing your head back as you did.

Men are trash I’ll stick the fictional ones thanks.