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#12th doctor fanfiction
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Congrats on 2K! Can you do any Doctor in a train station with a letter?
[2K Followers 'Clue' Special]
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During the reign of Queen Victoria, British Empire experienced tremendous technological advancement. One might even go as far as to call it an unbelievable advancement. That "one" being the Doctor himself as he, through an unimaginably strange chain of events, received a letter from 1863. The envelope simply lay there one day, under the door to TARDIS as though an actual postman had passed by them.
At first he, naturally, thought it was fake. But the letter was clearly calligraphed with a pen and the post stamp had the right design. Even the paper looked to be around 160 years old. As far as he could tell, and those were great lengths, the letter was genuine. Having no other option but to accept this inexplicable course of events, he decided to read the message thoroughly and take its contents to heart. Especially the compliments and celebrating he only half-believed to be deserving of.
Paddington train station is packed. People rush from platform to platform, hurriedly checking their luggage and documents, and exchanging goodbyes. Some of them frantically walk around and pace, unable to contain the happiness of upcoming reuniting with their loved ones.
No one seems to pay attention to him. He's still unsure whether he's doing the smart thing as he once more checks the time on his pocket watch. They should arrive any minute now.
With a screeching of wheels and an impenetrable cloud of smoke, the train comes to a halt. It's a beautiful showcase of human ingenuity and craftsmanship. The doors to wagons are opening accompanied by creaks. A mob of travellers from York floods the station.
Searching the stampede of a crowd, the Doctor finally notices a young woman. She's dressed no different than other ladies of the 19th century. There's confidence and thrill in her step as she's clearly walking towards him. Without a doubt, this is the author of the mysterious letter.
During the train ride, you kept on wondering what face he'll have. Will you be able to tell him apart from other men? Arriving at Paddington, however, you realize how silly your worry truly was. His strange, unfashionable attire makes it simply impossible to overlook him. Spotting him among the other passengers, you walk in his direction.
"This is yours, I believe." The Doctor offers you the letter as though you had merely lent it to him instead of gifting it.
You do not take up his offer. In fact, you don't even acknowledge the envelope in his hand. A polite yet excited smile appears on your face. "Then you must be him, sir."
"None other," he answers. Understanding your silent refusal, the Doctor puts the letter back in one of the inner pockets of his jacket. "Welcome to London, miss." Unprompted, he takes your luggage and offers you his other arm to walk with him.
You've got a lot of explaining to do...
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cosmicbunnysbluebox · 10 months
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Need help finding a Whoffaldi fic!
Hi fellow Twelfth doctor and Clara shippers, I need your help.
A few months ago I found a fic I loved, but I lost track of it and forgot the author and title! I wanted to see if anyone else on Tumblr might know of it.
The fic is about 12 as John Smith (its a human AU) he's a successful doctor at a hospital, and has a daughter, he has not dated for years as he is morning his wife (river) 's death. But his mother is having a party for her birthday and wants him to bring a date, so he goes on a dating website thats for fake relationships and finds Clara. They decide to fake date, but surprise surprise fall in love.
If anyone knows it please let me know. Thank you! <3
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rumple04 · 6 months
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He’s an icon, he’s a legend, and he is the moment 🌟
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run-clever-boy · 18 days
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I love this gif, let me tell you why
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I'm an absolute sucker for 12. But this gif inspires my brain on a whole new level.
- the WALK
The way he slows down as he gets closer to her, and she's backed up agsinst the console. *chef's kiss*
- just the vibe
He looks at her like all he can think about is pinning her against that console (prove me wrong!) Mood lighting is a major deal
- 👏CHE👏MIS👏TRY
She doesn't even back away, she leans in. You can cut the sexual tension with a knife.
Long story short i wish i was clara in this gif.
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candyfloss5000 · 5 months
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(After an adventure)
Twelfth Doctor: "What was that stupid thing you did out there?!"
Y/N: "You're gonna have to be more specific."
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pastanest · 1 year
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A/N: unbelievably, this is the first actual piece of Doctor Who writing not counting the dogshit on my wattpad account we’ll all pretend that doesnt exist fr so please be nice x
Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve x gender neutral!reader
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The Doctor x Short!Reader
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- is cheeky about it but not outright mean, unless he’s in one of his God-humans-are-the-fucking-worst moods
“Honestly, it’s like you idiots are TRYING to wipe your own planet out of existence, and you, well, you can't even reach the top of your own cupboards! What use are any of you?!”
- you’re literally on his side and think the human race sucks but ok go off, way to throw us all under the bus lol
- he’ll apologize afterwards if you’re clearly upset or if he thinks he went too far
- most of the time it’s very lighthearted jabs at your height
- always waits a few seconds before helping you reach something because he thinks it’s funny and also very sweet but he won't dare admit that
- as much as he convinces himself and everyone he encounters that your height is solely something he finds hilarious on occasion, he can't help feeling a little more protective of you, like your smaller form makes you more likely to break
- very much still recovering from the Time War, he’s prone to overthinking disaster scenarios, especially when it comes to you
“Stay behind me. These creatures can't be trusted at the best of times.”
- but you always find a way to spin it into something more lighthearted, to ease his mind
“I’m a smaller target than you, so I like my chances! Perhaps it’s you that should stay behind me?”
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- won't make fun unless he knows for a fact you’re comfortable with it
- as soon as he finds out you are, he makes jokes only in a very lighthearted way
- also comes up with cute nicknames to use when you’ve done something that’s impressed him, like saved a civilization or two while he was busy being broody and hot or something
“Oh, you little star!”
- generally speaking, he doesnt really care about your height, but he does find it endearing
- he’ll never see it as a point of weakness
- if he ever finds you struggling to reach something or down in the dumps about clothes not fitting you right because of your smaller proportions, he’s always right there to lift your chin back up and remind you of the wonderful person you are, that your stature holds no sway over how brilliant you are, especially not to him
“Some of the most mighty species in all the galaxies are the smallest ones you’ll find, some don't even have physical bodies big enough to detect with the human eye! Each and every one is perfectly unique in their own way, and you are no different. The stars you’ve seen in the night skies all your life, are they any less magical for appearing so small?”
“No…”
“Exactly! And, you know, the more humans I meet, the more I realize how similar you are to Time Lords.”
“In what way?”
- and then he’s grinning down at you, all giddy about getting to use the line he loves hearing more than any other
“You’re all so much bigger on the inside.”
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- will make a joke about your height to test the water
- if your reaction tells him you’re not okay with it, he’ll feel guilty for the rest of eternity and never do it again
- but if you laugh with him or roll your eyes with a smile, he’ll grin like he’s accomplished something great, cracked some impossible code, and he will wear that like a badge of honor
- regardless of the fact you’ve made it clear he is allowed to make fun of your height, if anyone else does it in front of him, he doesn't like it
“Well, surely the smallest one should be sent in first, their loss would be the least noticeable!”
- and the Doctor is straight up, clapping his hands together and pointing in all directions as he lays out the plan of action very clearly to all involved, ending it by pointing at the man who dared make fun of you
“Now, you. From what I gather, jokes are supposed to be funny- supposed to land laughs with the nearest crowd; clearly you missed that memo, but that’s fine. Depending on (Y/N)’s reaction to your poor excuse for a joke, I’ve got a snowglobe with a blackhole suspended within it that I think you’d fit just perfectly in. (Y/N)?”
- the man looks terrified, and you try your best to refrain from laughing at him as you raise an eyebrow in dramatic silence
“Jury’s still out, see if he survives this first.”
the Doctor claps his hands again. “Cool! I’m never saying that again, but it would be very uncool of me to have to trap you inside a snowglobe that would tear you atom from atom in a continuous, brutal cycle, so consider that a warning.”
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- takes the ABSOLUTE piss, don't ever think he won't
- will 110% pretend he can't see you and stare right over your head
- will 1000% make up short-based nicknames all the time
“Hello there, Short Round.”
“Really showing your age with that one.”
“Oh, what was that? A tiny and insignificant mouse, or perhaps it was the wind, arguing with me?”
- you’d think in all his whimsical, magical, time-travelling glory with his constant bustling about and his mind going a mile a minute in the most erratic fashion possible, he wouldn't notice your height, let alone find the time to make a joke in literally any setting, but oh boy, does he
“Is everyone clear on their roles in my carefully laid out plan, because I know that the accent can be difficult, but if I have to explain it again I think I’d rather do everything myself and you can all sit here with (Y/N) and applaud me when I get back.”
“Wait, sit here with me? Why aren't I coming with you?!”
“Because you’re-”
- he gestures to you with his hands, up and down, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you’re sighing because you already know what he’s referring to
“What does my height have to do with anything?!”
“You’re all compact, like a foldable deckchair or one of those raincoats that turns into a conveniently sized pouch. It’s frankly distracting and my pockets are full so you cant sit in any of them.”
- he never laughs at his own jokes but sometimes he makes you WHEEZE with the inventive short jokes he comes up with
- similarly to Nine, though, he also can't help viewing you as more breakable, not only because you’re a human, but a very short one, too
- despite him completely understanding the biology of humans, he is convinced that a papercut on you is the same as an average-sized person getting stabbed
- so yes, he takes the piss at absolutely every chance he gets, but if he sees someone else trip you up by accident or hand you a piece of paper and it cuts your finger in the most barely noticeable way, he will be a GRUMP
- consider the paper in your hands stolen, read very passive aggressively, then scrunched up into a ball, possibly chewed or ripped apart or even thrown on the floor and stamped on
- consider the person who accidentally hurt you the subject of his rage until they are out of his sight. every time they speak, they’re met with a “Shut it!”
- and you’re like “Doctor, there’s really no need-”
“That IMBECILE tripped you up approximately 3 AND A HALF HOURS AGO, and you think I’m overreacting? You could have DIED!”
- such a drama queen
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anteroom-of-death · 2 months
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Teacher's Pet part 1
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Synopsis: The Doctor notices a student. She notices him.
a/n: thank u to the moots for sticking with me. Yall are the best. This is going to be a series. Somewhat of a dark!doctor ish fic maybe. I haven't planned this far. I have ideas. Will switch between a 3rd party but doctor centric POV and a 2nd party student centric POV.
The sun drew itself in on the cold day, light filtering through large windows in the lecture hall. It caught and reflected the motes of light swirling around. First day of the Spring term. Lots of new students trickled in and found their respective seats. Of course, the syllabus was now online and such. But the Doctor still preferred to give a paper one. He felt it helped students focus if they had it real and tangible…unable to forget.
Just like he forgot so much. A lingering pain….
He started up his usual dazzling spiel. Enough to keep them from dropping out, but not enough to rile them to madness. He learned that lesson early on in this particular charade he was distracting himself with. All he had to really do was keep Missy in the Vault and attempt to rehabilitate her. Humans were such a delicate group to keep balanced. Too much stimulation and they would self destruct. Not enough? The same but in a reverse spiral.
Or just fall asleep.
He preferred it if a few actually did fall asleep.
Allowed him to build a reputation as a teacher. Keep the act up.
He didn’t notice the young woman intently staring, writing down the key phrases from his opening statements. He was enraptured in the normal routine he has become familiar with.
The hour came to a close, and he did a bow. He was to visit Missy again some time soon. Just a cursory check. See if she’d calmed down from her last temper tantrum, where she demanded a saxophone and stated that Billy Clinton was also a war criminal, but made some sweet jazz.
He could hardly agree. She already was a mediocre piano player. And the drum set she demanded earlier lay in tatters in her cupboard.
Being her keeper and therapist was rotten work, but it warmed him. Gave him a gram of hope that she may get better and he may have his friend back once more.
Though, he knew in both is hearts, hope could be a fragile thing for a man to hold onto.
But, especially in this body, he believed in redemption and change. They both had forever to change. They had forever.
A few weeks had passed, and he noticed that keen eyes were burning the back of his neck as he scrawled on the chalkboard. It felt different than the usual glazed-over focus of people trying to write or type out his valid points. It was hot and felt more personal. Less trying to pass a class.
He paused his sentence and raked his eyes over. It was a student with large gold hoops and a few tangled gold necklaces. The Doctor recognized two or three of the symbols used on some of them from his travels through Earth’s history. She was chewing hard on her pen. He could see flecks of her tinted chap stick clinging onto the sides of it. Her eyes were squinted slightly and a slight patch of blush rested on her checks. He couldn’t tell if it was a make up look or some feverish feature of her human body. Perhaps she was in the first phases of getting sick!
He went back to his lecture. Some misfocused student was the least of his concern.
But he still felt her eyes bore into him. Intent on something. He trudged on.
He came to a close, reminded everyone of their upcoming projects and let the day start to rest. The Doctor announced that his office hours were changing to represent the spring coming soon and to “Allow you all to feel the sun on your faces, you don’t know how long you’ll have. Humans usually only live once!”
He scanned the audience and saw her shoving her notebook and that well-gnawed on pen into her bag. Big purse with a rhinestone buckle. Resembled something that Rose or Jackie would have had, he mused.
She slung that and a tote bag that seemed overstuffed and ripe for the breaking over her shoulder. She audibly groaned under the weight. He pitied her. The stressed look she had on her face was oddly enchanting in the light just starting to sink.
He knew she was struggling in the class. She did good work, yes. When he opened up questions and debate, she usually had such pointed takes that verged on mind-racing. Sometimes others would bristle against what she said on the more provocative topics he offered up. Essays and tests? Not so much. She floundered.
She had accommodations for some diagnosis or whatever. He could tell her mind was making connections in a far more tangential way than the other’s either couldn’t or wouldn’t make. And for that he did like her. Enjoyed what she brought to the table. Although, even his brains had difficulty making some of the leaps her brain did.
But why was she staring at him like that today? It was almost reverent. Very off putting.
She came forward to his desk and clicked open her notes app .
“Erm…Professor.” She cleared her throat and started up. “Uh, I was wondering if I could see you sooner rather than later. For office hours. I’m sorry for my late essay last week. I don’t know what’s going on with me. I can’t focus and I feel like I’m losing my mind half the time lately. May I have some insight or whatever you want on how I could do better. I know I’m doing…like, so bad.” She confessed and exhaled on the final note of her punctuation.
She turned a new type of stare towards him. Less intense and personal and more of a thousand-yard death grip.
Her entire demeanor in this moment was very lamb like. A confused air of innocent need to do well, to pass her classes, clouded her.
A weaker man would have felt more predatory, he noted.
She wasn’t unattractive for a human, not like past companions he worshiped the ground of. Of course. He was drawn to them for their natures, often ignoring their faces wholesale.
She started to chew and rip at her pinky nail and lower lip simultaneously…
“Of course,” He said. “I have to go help a friend with something, so I have to talk and walk.”
She nodded eagerly and gave such an appreciative smile. “Thanks!” The words came out so quickly, almost breathlessly.
She trotted along side him.
Once outside, they started discussing her options. She had to work nights, she stated, she said so they were arranging a time to work in a little extra help and tutoring.
He genuinely enjoyed her company and led her to a bench.
“What about your friend?” She asked.
“Oh, Nardole can handle himself.” He smiled. “He’ll not miss me for an extra four or five minutes.”
She laughed a bit.
She plunged her hand into her purse and started rifling around. It was a chaotic sight.
She produced a pack of cigarettes and a tiny green plastic lighter.
“Do you mind? I’m trying to quit, but it’s been hell lately.” She grimaced.
He shook his head, no, he didn’t mind. It wouldn’t affect him. Her, yes. But one little luxury, especially if she was trying to quit.
“So long as it’s your last for a while.” He took the teacherly route.
She lit up and took a huge drag. Closing her eyes he noticed that deep look of exhaustion had given her dark purple and almost black under eye circles. She had apparently tried to cover them up with some make up products and some mascara and smudged eyeliner. She held that breath in for a few seconds. It was almost beautiful.
She exhaled and fluttered them open. The smoke wisped and flew away quickly in the gentle breeze.
“Yeah, thanks. People get so weird about smoking. But they’ll vape? Like, indoors. All the time.” She rolled her eyes at that mildly hypocrisy.
They planned for her to meet up with him in his office on Monday just before the lunch hour. Then turned the conversation to some topics in debate that another student, a male who irked her with his constant urge to play Devil’s Advocate. She had some very often-overlooked viewpoints and a very bizarre way of describing things. It was enchanting.
“Thanks.” She ignored a boundary and squeezed his hand. He felt a holy jolt of electricity go up his arm from the small touch. “I gotta go…you’ve got a friend. Works been slow and I have some…appointments. So I have to make sure I’m perfect.” She elaborated with an almost tic-like shake of her head.
“Yes, my friend is probably going insane dealing with our little issue.” He responded in kind. Missy had probably caused Nardole to melt down or malfunction.
He watched her leave towards the bus stop. Her bags hitting her back as she rushed. Her coat barely covering her bottom and the belt caught in the hem of it. He felt himself feeling almost physically unable to leave the bench. Something tugging at his gut was preventing him from doing so. It felt akin to what River and Clara evoked in him but different.
River and Clara were strong and capable, avant-garde. Self-confident. Cocky. But this student was seemingly the inverse. Very vulnerable and nervous to the point of a near imperceptible, even to him with his keen Time Lord senses, shake and a heart that was audibly racing in its cage. Coupled with her addiction to cigarettes and minor tendency towards self mutilation via near-constant picking and chewing…
Something dark, but heartwarming rushed through his core and took root.
He felt himself deeply looking forward to Monday.
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hauntingcryptids · 1 year
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Touch Starved
Capaldi!Doctor x Reader
Summary - The Doctor has noticed your behaviour change over your time in his TARDIS and is determined to do something about it.
Based On This Request -
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Warnings - Themes of depression and loneliness, not great parents
Word Count - 1292
A/n - Gender Neutral Reader. This was requested and posted on my old Tumblr account and I just wanted to post it on here. I hope that you enjoy it!
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You were a very affectionate person. You knew this from a very young age as you would love to hug your friends and want to hold their hands constantly. Your parents, however, instilled in you the harshness of society and how many people don’t like random and public displays of affection or how some people can use your naturally affectionate against you. So, they quickly moulded your behaviour after childhood and taught you to restrain yourself. They said that affection was cute when presented in children, but annoying and awkward when seen in adults.
After you grew up and went into higher education, your parents expected you to follow their influence. So, you grew colder and more isolated with age until you barely showed your friends physical affection at all.
When you first met The Doctor, you saw this opportunity to shed the influence of your parents and to return to your warm and bubbly self, but you hadn’t tried to hug either him or Clara, yet. You grew insecure when you heard The Doctor’s protests to Clara’s hugs. He would always give in, though, but you could see that he was still a bit uncomfortable with the act. You understood that Clara was The Doctor’s companion longer than you, though it still hurt your heart every time you would see the two of them hug or hold hands.  
You wanted affection so badly your body physically hurt. You didn’t know who to tell, though. So, you internalized your past and your current wants. You began staying in more, staying in your room in The TARDIS and usually sleeping. You were conflicted with yourself. You knew what you wanted, but the voices of your parents continued to echo throughout your head. So, you stayed in and secluded yourself so as to not be tempted into giving into your more affectionate personality.
After much convincing from both Clara and The Doctor (both of them knocking on your bedroom door constantly to see if you were okay), the three of you went on an adventure together. The Doctor decided to take the pair of you to a planetary market. They both explained that they had both been there before, The Doctor many times so, but the two of them figured that you would appreciate the aesthetics of the planet, as well. You have described to both of them many times that you always loved fairs and festivals and markets as they always gave you an opportunity to meet and interact with many individuals. Even if you avoided physical touch, you loved spending time with new people.
As soon as you arrived on the planet, your spirits instantly rose. You would go from booth to booth, talking to all of the individuals from various planets and people, just happy to interact with all of them. 
You then went to one booth, excited by what they were selling, but you were unable to understand the seller. The Doctor came up from behind you and unexpectedly placed one of his slim hands on the small of your back. You tried to concentrate on what he was saying and his conversation with the seller, but your mind continued to drift to the weight of The Doctor’s hand on your back. 
Clara motioned for the two of you to join her at another booth down the main market pathway. It was clad in different accessories such as jewellery and scarves and hats. The Doctor’s hand moved up your back to between your shoulder blades as he pushed you toward the booth. Once there, he dramatically picked up various accoutrements and moved you around like a model to see which was the best looking on you. Clara giggled, then added to The Doctor’s madness by wrapping a thickly-knit purple scarf, with stars and moons embroidered into the fabric, dramatically around your neck. The pair of them stepped back and smiled broadly. 
Clara removed a strange hat from your head and The Doctor removed the scarf while you struggled to get a complicated bracelet off of your wrist. You tried to ask them multiple times what they were doing, but they always responded with a jolly “isn’t it obvious?” You had finally removed the bracelet when you saw The Doctor holding a bag out to you.
“What’s this?”
“The scarf. You looked good in it and I thought that you would want a souvenir.” He smiled and shoved the bag into your shocked hands before quickly taking your arm in his and walking after Clara who had gone to find some edible food for you and her’s Human palate.
The day continued just the same. Clara and The Doctor trying to make you happy by showing you the wonders of the Universe and the amazing celebrations of this planet. All of you ate strange foods (as long as they were safe) and you got a few more souvenirs. All the while, The Doctor always had a hand on your back or his arm hooked around yours. You couldn’t understand the change in attitude and what was happening and why The Doctor was acting so differently. The three of you even took a couple of photos in front of a monument with your arms all wrapped around each other. The Doctor, rarely, if ever, acted like this, but you were enjoying it.
You were starting to worry, though, that this was just The Doctor’s way of giving you one last great adventure before sending you back to Earth. This plagued your mind even though you tried to enjoy the rest of the day and create lifelong memories of your time with your friends. But your inner fears were continuing to rage in a confusing rubble in your brain when the three of you returned to The TARDIS and The Doctor said to prepare for a much more running-filled adventure tomorrow.
“Both of us?” You stayed behind after Clara said her goodnights and went to her room in order to ask some of your questions. 
“Not just you and Clara?”
“Why wouldn’t you be there, Y/n? Are you not feeling okay?” You shook your head in confusion.
“I just thought that you were taking me home. This adventure was so fun and happy, I had figured that it would be my last one.”
“Do you want to go home?” You practically screamed a frantic “no!” back to The Doctor, probably a bit too quickly.
“Then why would I make you do so?”
“I don't really know. I was just worried that I might have made you and Clara uncomfortable because of how much I love showing affection to the people I care about.” You were looking down at your shoes until you felt The Doctor’s hands come to firmly hold your shoulders. You looked up at him, but you were still too afraid to look him in the eye.
“Y/n, I promise you that you have not made either of us uncomfortable. We know that you care about us, and our boundaries and we really appreciate that. I do especially. I’m not that big of a hugger, but I will always love a hug from you. Whenever you need one, just ask.” The Doctor smiled bittersweetly, he could see that you were on the verge of tears, and he just wanted to make you happy. He slowly opened his arms for you, and you fell into his chest. The Doctor ran a hand over your back, rubbing relaxing circles into your muscles, while his other arm was wrapped around your neck, gently curling you into his torso. The two of you stayed like this for a while, you couldn’t tell how long, just simply enjoying the relaxing peace of the gesture.
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dktrps · 5 months
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"And in years to come, you might find yourself revisiting a few, but just... the old favourites, eh?"
— The Curator (The Day of the Doctor, 2013)
1 week to go...
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honey-im-hotdog · 2 years
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Seven Cubes of Sugar 
Twelfth Doctor x Immortal!Alien!Reader, mentions of Eleventh Doctor x Immortal!Alien!Reader
Author’s Note: This is my first Doctor Who fic! I really don’t like Doctor x human because that has an abundance of issues, so I made reader be nonhuman, and immortal simply cause I don’t want the Doctor to lose more people 🥺 The book mentioned is “Before the Coffee Gets Cold” by Toshikazu Kawaguchi. Also, this is for #dwweek2022 Day One - Favorite Doctor! I hope you enjoy :D 
As always, reader is supposed to be gn+vague, so if you catch any mistakes related to that please let me know.
Words: 2.2k 
Warnings: Fluff (the title is in reference to how fluffy I tried making this), swearing, soft!Twelve, mentions of Doctor’s insecurity/self-hatred, kind of choppy. 
Summary: A day at the park, reflecting on your Doctor, with a book and some ice cream. 
Check out my Masterpost 
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It was on Trenzalore that you met the Doctor.
You had lived there long before the humans came. You were born on that planet, played, grew up…and first died there… But that’s a story for another time.
You were coming back from visiting an old friend in the village when you saw him, the Doctor, a strange man, speaking to a crowd like he was a part of the townsfolk.
He was weary of you, he couldn’t stay near you for long, called you unnatural. Soon after, as the years went by, people he knew and befriended in Christmas started to pass away, and the only person to feel his grief, to understand, was you. And so, you two grew closer. Becoming friends, and then more, until he married you.
He told you about his companions, all the adventures, every good and bad and in-between moment of his life. Afterall, you and Bowtie had almost a millennium together stuck on that planet.
Then came the Daleks, and with them, the Doctor’s death. Well, that’s what you thought until he was granted more regenerations.
The Doctor had taken his regeneration really hard. Going from being young to an old and angry man had been hard for him. His tiredness, his pain, his hurt, it was all etched into the wrinkles of his skin. He didn’t even need to look into a mirror to see it, he simply had to look at his hands to be reminded of his new body, of his new self. There was so much he couldn’t stand about his new regeneration.
And then there was you: young looking, forever stuck at the same age, and heart-stoppingly in love with him. You have always been unwavering in your adoration, in your kindness, in your support. As the bowtie-wearing Doctor, he never felt deserving of you; sometimes yet, he almost couldn’t bear the fact that you were tied down to him. But you have always been strong in your love for him, always soothing his fears and concerns with your gentle words, your soft touches, and your calming presence.
In the beginning he tried pushing you away, tried distancing himself from you. You, in turn, always grabbed his hand and pulled him back to you. Even though it wasn’t easy, you had steadily assured him that you don’t mind his new self, that you love him all the same.
So here you two are, several years into him teaching at St. Luke’s, in a park in the middle of the day, having a not-really-but-kind-of date. This Doctor, more than Bowtie, gravitated towards reading, and that’s what he is currently doing. Sitting on the dark green bench, one leg crossed over the other, and a book in his lap.
Upon entering the park, you had immediately noticed the small ice cream stand. Given your Doctor’s sweet tooth, you left him to get comfortable on the bench while you went to go buy a cone to share.
“Thank you, enjoy.”
You thank the man in return and head over to the Doctor. As you walk, you watch him. You love watching him when he’s giving his undivided focus to something, whether that be the TARDIS, in lectures, a book, or you. Each thing, each occurrence called for a different expression on his face, but the way he fully immersed himself always intrigued you.
Yet, no matter how focused he could get in other things, your Doctor was always in tune with you.
Your husband has come a long way since he regenerated into this body. You still remember the first day you spent with the Scottsman dragging you around Victorian London.
———————
You watch as the Doctor snatches the newspaper off the ground and waddles back to the old man, grabbing him and forcing him to look down at the paper.
Though this body is quite different and the mannerisms not as open, as child-like, he still behaves similarly to Bowtie. Minds working faster than anyone could fathom and having a general lack of social skills. Hence, the terrorization of the poor man.
All in all, you know the Doctor—your Doctor—is still the same. Different, yes—but still the Doctor. Still the man you spent the last nine hundred years with. Still the man who tries his very best to help those that need it, whether they realize they need it or not.
A shout from the homeless man brings you back from your observations. The Doctor is wrestling the man, whose name neither of you bothered to gather, for his coat. This, you decide, is probably a good time to intervene.
“Fine!” the Doctor throws his hands in the air, letting go of the man’s collar. “Fine! Fine, fine! You don’t want to give me your coat. Okay!” He steps back from the man and rubs his hands together. “H-How about,” he cuts himself off, looking around like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “Yeah. Yeah! How about a trade?! I’ll give y—here! Take my watch! I’ll give you my watch for your coat!” the Doctor shoves his wrist in the man’s face and starts tugging at the coat sleeve.
You rush the last four steps to the two men and grab your husband’s arm to pull him away. “No. No, Doctor. Just—hold on a second, will you!” You hush him, ignoring the pout he’s giving you for now. You place your hands on his arms and turn to the other man, “I’m sorry about him, sir. It was very nice meeting you, have a good day.” He doesn’t need any more prompting to get out of there and far away from the mad Time Lord.
“What’d you do that for?! I’m cold! I need his coat!” he stares down at you in bewilderment, eyebrows are almost climbing off of his face. As the elderly man reaches the end of the alleyway, the Doctor turns his fury to him, “Oi! Come back here, I need your coat!”
“Doctor, it’s okay,” you pivot the two of you until his back is to the exit so he wouldn’t be able to harass the poor soul that had accidently stumbled upon the frenetic Scot. “It’s fine. Be fair, he was cold to—”
“No! It isn’t okay! I’m very cold, I needed his coat!” His arms escape your grip in wild gestures; sometimes you forget how strong Time Lords can be.
“If you’re cold,” your voice is comically calm compared to his, “all you had to do was say so in the first place.” You begin removing your soiled coat.
“What are you doing?!”
You raise an eyebrow at him, “What does it look like? I’m giving you my coat, idiot.”
“What would you do that for? Now you’ll be cold!” His voice gets higher and higher as you take off the garment, attack eyebrows climbing up and up his newly worn face.
You take a step closer to reach around him, gently placing the coat onto his shoulders. “I’d rather me than you.”
You mutter it absentmindedly, but the blow it delivers to the Doctor is substantial. This whole time he had been scared—no, terrified—that you wouldn’t accept his new body. Mere minutes ago, when he had stared at himself in the grimy mirror, he felt a lump lodge itself in his throat. Not because he hated his new regeneration, really, but because of you. How could he expect you to be okay with being married to a man that looked as if he could be your father—worse, your grandfather? Yes, you had stuck by him since he had pulled you into the Thames, not acting any differently than usual (other than being concerned about the post-regeneration and his subsequent running around), but he thought that was because it hadn’t settled in for you. That you were too busy chasing around after him to have fully understood that he is old now, that he is different.
But here you are. Willing to brave the bitter sting of the London air just so he wouldn’t be cold anymore. Removing your coat and giving it to him as easily as you breathe. He feels as if the skies had parted and a warm ray of sunshine finally kissed his freezing heart.
You tug at his wrists to bring his mind back from wherever it had wandered, gesturing for him to put his arms through the sleeves. And the smile you give him further melts the frost that has started to enclose him; the same sweet smile, filled with love and adoration, and just a dash of fond exasperation.
However, he isn’t able to bask in it for long. Like a bucket of ice water, he realizes that he can’t bring himself to embrace you, not like he used to be able to. His arms feel like lead and his heart sinks just as heavy.
Him whispering your name draws your eyes up from where you were patting down the coat. His expression of grief has your own face filling with concern yet again.
“What? What is it, Doctor?”
“I,” he pauses, at a loss of words. “I’m not—.” He’s shrugging his shoulders and looking away now. How could he describe the faults of his new body, the faults that are letting you down—the last thing he ever wanted to do.
You rest your hands on his arms again, thumbs trying to sooth him. “It’s okay,” you say softly, “take your time. Or just spit something out if that’ll make it easier, and we’ll go through it together.”
“Touch. I can’t touch you. This body,” he wrings his hands together, voice slightly cracking. “This body doesn’t feel okay with touching. I don’t feel,” he stutters a little, “…comfortable.” His shoulders shag and his hands open, palms towards you, as if he’s saying, ‘This is what I am now.’
It takes you a while to reply, slowly turning over the information he just presented you. You know your silence is making him fidget, so you do the only thing that you can think of:
“Fine then.” You bring up your left index finger. “Compromise?” Your eyebrow raises in a hopeful look.
His brows furrow, as he also brings up his left index finger. “‘Compromise?’”
With a grin, you switch to your right finger and wrap it around his, pulling the interlocked digits down. “Yeah, a little compromise,” your voice is filled with reassurance, and you give his finger a little accompanying squeeze.
And there he goes again, wondering why he ever felt incertitude about your resilience. You have been there for him for the past 900 years, standing by his side and supporting him, loving him, simply being there for him, even when he didn’t know he needed you.
So he squeezes your finger back, as a silent thank you, not just for this, but for today as a whole, and for every time before.
“Doctor,” you say in a curious manner, stopping him from turning away to grab the abandoned newspaper, entwined fingers rising in the air behind him. “…You look like a penguin.”
Your giggles burst out at his eyebrows shooting up, looking independently cross.
———————
It took him a while, but slowly he got more and more accustomed to physical touch, going from tangling just pointer fingers to reaching for your whole hand like they were meant to be locked together. While he still isn’t as favorable to it, he is a lot more open. Over the time you’ve spent running around with Clara and the numerous decades in Bristol, you both worked out that he likes to initiate specific moments of physical affection rather than having constant contact with you. He’ll go hours without touching you, and then simply open up his arms or grab your hand, silently asking for you to be with him. (As if he needed any more reasons, your respect and understanding of his aversion to touch makes him adore you even more.)
Which is exactly what he does right now. The second you come within arm’s length to him, he’s shifting his body and opening up his arm to let you slide right in, all without looking away from the words on the page.
“I got your favorite this time. Last time you kept bitching about me getting my favorite,” you tease him as you wiggle around to get in the perfect position; half of your back pressed against his chest, your side snugly fitted into his, and one arm thrown over his lap, fingers gently rubbing his thigh.
It’s automatic when he lefts out a scoff and mumbles, “‘Bitching.’” His arm comes up to wrap around your shoulders and squeeze you into him more. “I do not bitch. You simply don’t have the superior taste in sweets as I do, darling.”
In response, you bring the frozen treat up to his lips and let out a scoff of your own, “Yes, because seven sugar cubes in your tea is ‘superior.’”
He grumbles under his breath around the ice cream in his mouth.
You roll your eyes. “Where are you on the page?” you say in slight exasperation.
He picks up the book and rests his chin on your shoulder, “Bottom of the page, here.” His pinkie vaguely indicates a paragraph.
You take a lick of the ice cream, “Will you read to me, Doctor?”
“Do you even have to ask, love?” He readjusts his grip on the book and begins reading, “‘Of course, there was nothing concrete to suggest that it had been his mistake…’” 
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sweetbraveclara · 2 months
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Finding Her
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post-Hell Bent alternative ending.
The Doctor wants his companion back, and is willing to do anything to do so. Yet, he what he finds is far different than what he expects. (Set on Gallifrey)
One chapter, approx 1.6k. Twelfth doctor/ Clara Oswin Oswald
Angst and pain guaranteed
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🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || Doctor Who-inspired playlist
Imagine the Doctor being there for you when you're upset.
You were having a very porcupine day and the Doctor quite quickly caught on - he's always been good at noticing changes in your mood. So far he's been eyeing you from afar, checking if you were already bursting at the seams with whatever storm that was boiling inside you. A simple slight of hand seemed to be the tipping point for your already bad day:
The phone slipped out of your hand and clashed against the TARDIS floor with a loud, bright bang that echoed throughout the room. It was in no way a worrying or rare situation - given the regular turbulence the ship experiences, your phone has already wiped all the dust from the metal floor. That day, however, that daily annoyance felt like the end of the world. It seemed as if the universe herself decided to poke you with a stick, pushing you to the edge of your wits.
Having sat on the floor to reach your phone, the Doctor couldn't see you from his position behind the flight controls. For a moment, the only thing that hinted at your existence was a strain of spat out swears and threats aimed at inanimate objects.
"What's wrong?" the Doctor asked in an unnerved tone. In his experience, even a slight spoil of humour could be tied to completely catastrophic events.
Not hearing your immediate response, he walked around the console to see what was going on with you. Fortunately, you were just sitting on the floor with your head resting against the rail behind you. As an expression of frustration, you gently banged your head against the metal contraption.
"I... I don't know," you confessed quietly. Your eyes were shut tight and you could only imagine the Doctor's worried expression. "I'm just... sad. And angry."
"Can I help?"
His offer made you open your eyes. Even when you weren't exactly pleasant o be around at the time, the Doctor remained ever so kind and worried. Although deep down you wished he'd leave you alone, you knew he meant well and did not deserve any bad attitude. You took a deep breath before answering him:
"No, I don't think so."
You closed your eyes again and let out a deep sigh. You heard the Doctor hum quietly as if he was thinking about something. Then you heard the sound of the heels of his shoes tapping against the floor as he walked away, disappearing somewhere among the endless labyrinth of corridors. When the echo of his footsteps became inaudible, there was only you and the gentle thrum of TARDIS's engines. It felt nice to be alone for a moment - it was a rare opportunity while travelling with the Doctor and when it did arise anywhere outside of those four walls, a disaster soon followed.
There was no way for you to tell how much time he'd been gone but it felt too short - despite the fondness you felt for him. The sound of his feet against the metal floor only grew louder and so you assumed he was walking towards you.
Hearing as he came to a halt right next to you but not saying anything, you opened your eyes once again. The Doctor was towering over you with a cup in his hand. He extended his arm towards you, clearly offering you a beverage. There was a faint cloud of steam hovering above it. Despite everything, he was always as caring as he could possibly be.
"Okay, yes, you can help," you told him. The Doctor's face contorted into a soft smile.
A shadow of happiness run across your face when you took the mug from him. It was pleasantly warm. The aroma of berries, citrus and clove reached your nostrils and you couldn't stop yourself from taking a deeper breath to bask in the lovely, spicy-sweet fragrance.
The Doctor leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. Then he returned to the impressive console in the middle of the room, resuming whatever maintenance he had paused for you. From time to time he would glance at you to check how you were doing. Love always poured out of him, even when no words were spoken.
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appendixsaucy · 2 months
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Where/how to find good dr who fanfics ???? I do not care for cishets and I love hurt/comfort or angst (that the doctor experiences prob) PLEASE
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rumple04 · 5 months
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Such a comfort show 🤍
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“Can we go now? People in the twenty-first century smell.”
“We do not,” says Clara, offended. She turns to the Doctor for reassurance.
But he hesitates. “There is… a stench,” he confirms after a long moment.
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bugsy-maria · 7 months
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... Even at the start...
Pairing: Doctor x Reader
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 (this)
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This academy wasn’t like most, where many kids around the age of 9 are learning math's and reading, these children were staring right into all of space and time. A dark abyss where every outcome can be seen by these children. They know what happens next, what has happened well beyond their time, and what is happening on the other side of the universe.  
But this part of the story isn’t about time and space, it's about a little girl Time Lady who had comfort and traded it for a loss all because she wouldn’t be able to stand the guilt eating her up inside. Now this is not to say that this story won't ever be about time and space, trust me we will get there. Just know that even all of time and space has its time and place.  
Now just for future reference this girl is you, (y/n).  you have been a one for a good portion of your life, you never had a sustainable feeling of comfort, but the Acadamy was the opposite of the life you had lived for the first couple of years.  
Just about everyone at this school knew not to talk to you, not because you were closed off but rather because they thought that you were too weird to talk to. Even though you never gave off that energy or even did anything to cause that reaction. In fact, you were the most extroverted person in the whole school. Making it your mission to have at least one friend, at least one person to be there for you.   
You met one boy who was kind of closed off but well liked. He didn’t mind your company, so you got attached. You would drag him to look at the sky with you well passed your curfew, you had your own little spot at the top of one of the many buildings in the area. The bright stars were almost painful to look at, but their beauty enchanted you in a way that made it just about completely impossible to look away.  
He was quite a large portion of the time whenever you dragged him out and about but that didn’t stop you from having him around every time you wanted to look up at the sky. Over time he grew to like you a bit more and started to talk more. Still, he was more of a listener, but not so much in a way that made him seem disinterested in what you were saying, but rather scared of whatever might happen. You wouldn’t find this out till much later when you were both in your 6th year at the academy. You had met him a couple days after he looked into the time vortex, and much like you, it scared him so much he ran.  
He hadn’t been the same after he saw that, too scared to talk. You, on the other hand, had gotten scared of knowing exactly what would happen that you sought out to create your own worlds where those things that were said to happen simply didn’t. You created your own destiny in this world which made dealing with the fear easier to manage.  
He then started to tell you about all of the things he wished to do but they never passed the planet you both called home. He wanted a simple job and to have a wife and kids with a good childhood. He didn’t really want to explore, not the stars or the planet, he just wanted a simple life.  
You wanted to travel to the stars. You wanted to carry adventures on your shoulders while saving new worlds and making history. You wanted to put out any fire in your way but also wanted to watch stars spit flames out into the vast emptiness of space. You wanted the world, stars, galaxies, and the whole universe in your hands. It would be enough to have just that. All of the time and space at your convenience was all you needed to be happy.  
You knocked on this boy's door one night, just like every other night that you wanted to see the stars. This boy had learned to be prepared for any surprise visits by you because you were quite indecisive about whether you were in the mood to look up at those balls of fire. He opened the door and slid out already knowing why you were knocking on his door that late at night.  
The walk was always quieter than expected mostly because once you both made it to the roof, you were chatting like no tomorrow. But this moment of quiet was what you both needed. Also, you were both out of your rooms well passed curfew, so you really needed to be quiet. You would both be walking with slow quiet steps, doors were opened and closed with such precision making sure it didn’t make the slightest noise.  
Once you both had made it to the roof you started laughing amazed that you had got away with it yet again. The boy had never once laughed at this, instead he just stares at you with a small smile graced upon his face. A creak was heard from another building which caused him to smack his hand on your face so whoever had made such a noise would be none the wiser to two students out passed curfew.  
He removed his hand from your face and put a finger over his mouth to signal you to keep quiet. You both walked over to your little corner of the roof which had grown some decorations over the years. A thin blue blanket was sprawled on the ground, a small bowl filled with different candies from your universal cultures class you took last semester, and a travel sized telescope that the boy had managed to nick from his parents' drawer before he left for the academy all sat in the far corner behind the door of the roof.  
You laid out the blanket to cover a portion of the roof top that you then sat on. The boy followed suit already having the routine down like the back of his hand. You both leaned down onto your backs almost simultaneously, both taking in the sight of the stars before either one broke the silence.  
“Tell me why you don’t want to go out there again?” you ask the same question at least once a month just to verify that he doesn’t want to still. You want him to. Change his mind because as much as you say that you don’t care whether he stays here or goes out there with you- 
“It’s too risky, plus I have everything I would ever need here.” He says it so simply as though anyone would agree with him. But you don’t see it, you know that he has many comforts here and you don’t, maybe that’s why he finds it so easy to stay when all you want to do is leave. “You know this, so why do you keep asking?” 
He had the most wonderful eyes; they held the most amazing things. The eyes that stare at you is the newest of new and have not been tainted with the wisdom and sights that the elders held in their eyes. You knew that they would change one day, hell your will too but those eyes are worth looking at.  
Like the stars in the sky for instance, one day all those stars will die and then be replaced with new ones. At that point, it is entirely different sky, just like how this man will die then be replaced with a new set of peepers. But in this moment, they were beautiful, and this is what you want to remember when you die for good. This moment, and any other moment that follows with him in it.  
You bob your head to the side, so you lock your eyes with his. He always looked peaceful now, which was a complete 180 when compared to how he was when you first kidnapped him from the comfort of his room. The first time you both had done this he was sweating a storm and his breathing was labored and uneven, plus he would not stop listing out all the consequences you two would face together. You both only stayed out for about 20 minutes, and to this day you are surprised that you even lasted that long.  
“Just want to see if you changed your mind yet.” 
“Or you just want to see if I would ever go with you.” 
“Nope, never” 
“Yes, you do, you don’t want to leave me.” The smile on his face widened as he sang his sentence in a teasing voice. 
“Absolutely not! I can survive just fine without you!” You looked back at those stars with the very same expression of amazement. He sits up and tilts his head to look at your face 
“If you want me to go with you, all you have to do is ask nicely.”  
“Shut up.” you groan out, you playfully push him over.  
“You know I’m just playing right?” 
“Of course, I do.” 
“I mean even if you did ask, I would never want to travel with you.” the smile on his face radiates within his words.  
“Shut up! I am a delight!” It is now your time to smirk just like him. 
“The naming ceremony Is tomorrow; what name do you think you’ll get?” He always changed the subject, mainly because he never was good at remembering things in this regeneration, so he had adapted to just asking and talking about things as soon they came into his mind. 
“Something like traveler, or tourist, oh or dreamer! Dreamer has a nice tone to it do not you think?” 
“Absolutely, you would get something like that. I mean with your air headedness I would be surprised if you did not.” he said with a laugh. That is another thing you could not help but notice about him, his laugh was like a baby’s laugh to a mother. Or like the sound of your name getting first place in a competition you worked hard on. His laugh was one you would never forget, his was one that you will remember randomly thought your life whenever you perform a mundane task. His laugh was a symphony. “What name do you think they’ll give me?” 
“Probably something normal like Baker, or Farmer, or Uninteresting.”  
“I’m not that boring.” 
“You kind of are though.” 
That night ended like the ones before it, with you both laughing until your sides hurt. You both ended up having a hard time going down those stairs leading up to the roof and down to the dorms. You both went back to your own rooms, the stars still lingering in your eyes as you do.  
Your flame lights emit a soft glow onto the nearby objects within your room. You were fortunate enough to get your own room this year which meant that you were safer than the boy because he did have a roommate. This made sneaking out easier for you than it did him, however his roommate has done many things that could get him in trouble which means that the boy can sneak out in exchange for keeping the roommate's secret.  
The rest of the night was the same as any other, you where you left off in your work. You don’t completely remember what the assignment was about, but you worked on it absentmindedly already knowing what to write about. Kinda like the work was too easy for you, but really it was because you were too busy living a better life in your head.  
You were always like that, no one really took too much notice of it because you were like that all the time. Always thinking of what more life had in store for you, kind of like putting yourself into a story you create.  
The morning after was going to be an interesting one. Everyone in the academy was buzzing with uneasiness, barely listening to one another as the sound of the drums consumed their hearing. You on the other hand aren’t too worried about the outcome of today, for you it was just another day. You know what you want to do with your life and nothing that happens today with quench that thirst you have for traveling.  
So, for you it was just as normal of a day as others just by the end of it you will no longer be able to tell people your actual name, you would have to tell them your title instead. You quickly scan the large hall filed with other Time Lords and Ladys much like you, until your eyes land on a familiar mop of light brown. But what you noticed almost at once after is that he was walking out of the room and following one of the admins.  
You quickly dart to the boy not thinking clearly, but just knowing that it was going to be something wrong. But this boy never got in trouble which is what really made this experience have an uneasy feeling in your gut.  
“Stop!” You were closer now, still running a couple steps till you were right where they were. “What are you doing? He hasn’t done anything wrong!” The hall filled with students was now around the corner in the long hall you now stood in.  
“(y/n)” the boy tried to interject; he didn’t want you to get in trouble. This was the only boy that knew your fears and he didn’t want to lose you to them.  
“No! This boy is completely innocent! He didn’t do a thing, he’s the most well-behaved student there is here!” 
“He snuck out passed curfew.” 
“I made him! It’s my fault, punish me! Not him!”  
“(y/n) no.” you don’t think that you have ever heard that tome in his voice but there it was. Right there in the air just hanging there until you listened.  
“Fine,” the teacher let go of his arm and grabbed onto you, pulling you closer to their side than where you were previously standing. “Go back to the hall.”  
“But you sh-”  
“I said go.” 
The net couple of minutes there was a shared eerie silence between both you and the teacher as you made your way to the disciplinary actions you were now forced to face. Rumors were common amongst the students as in most schools, there were quite a few fan favorites. A popular one this particular week was the Zybroneez that passed by the field more than usual this week were actually dead timelords that died in the last time lord. This rumor may be more of an urban legend but there's more, apparently Catherine, a Time Lady a year above you, were walking past the giant, gentle creatures and she saw them pass. 
That’s how the ‘rumor’ started and then it got out of control and now she's part Zybroneez, but a much older rumor, but kind of urban legend, was a much darker one. No one was really able to tell the rumor because no one had experienced it, well not really. The rumor is that when you get in trouble for breaking an unbreakable rule or get three strikes then you get punished. But not detention, something much worse, some guy back in the early days of the school having been built a student had gotten in trouble and was seen getting thrown into the time vortex. According to another student this student's biggest fear was leaving their family behind, and so the admin made it happen.  
Your biggest fear was going to become more than a fear with this punishment. This was bad for you because you didn’t think that you would be able to bear your greatest fear. But by the looks of it that seems to be what you will end up facing.  
That agonizing fear is growing within you as you get closer and closer to said fear, all of those grand events shared with that boy, all of those classes filled with laughter as you tried another mysterious food that turned your skin purple, and the smell of poppy flowers enveloped your senses. The soft pitter patter that tapped your head as that cloud delicately dropped water onto the skin of your forehead. That sight above you as you looked up at the sky, that cloud and those stars that you once thought of traveling around with your best and only friend. No one else occupied your life so you just wanted to take him away with you and travel the universe.  
But with one word all of it was lost, the last you ever heard in this life solidified the significance of this life. This life was no longer of any importance to that boy, to Galifray, to the neighboring worlds, or to the universe for that matter. All because of one word, one name, one title.  
“Doctor.” was the last word you heard before this life was thrown out of your grasp and into the time vortex.  
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@alicefallsintotherabbithole
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