#flxpper

//-cries on your shoulder- I didn’t think I’d ever get it fixed

Myers-Briggs: ENFJ Enneagram: 2w9, 2w3, 9w8 ↳ stacking: sx/so/sp Alignment: true neutral Kinsey Scale: 3 Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw Temperament: sanguine

❛Are you SURE you didn’t hide my hair gel?❜

Everyone ever: nO

     ❝Irene!❞ the Doctor called, a bright smile on his face. A Santa hat sat atop his      head (barely atop -- it was in very real danger of sliding of, tilted as it was at a      rather precarious angle), and in his hand he held a pair of felt antlers, which he      promptly placed atop Irene's head as soon as she joined him in the console room.      The Time Lord could barely contain his excitement. He'd actually begun to grow      quite fond of Christmas, in this face, and he'd thought of the perfect gift for Irene.      They'd been travelling together for nearly a year now, and this would be the first      Christmas they would share, so he'd really wanted to think of something special      to give to his friend. Fortunately, he'd was positive he'd done exactly that.      A trip home!      He wasn't trying to impress her. Of course not. And it wasn't that he was curious      to meet her family, eager for the chance to learn whatever he could about the      mysterious brunette who told him so very little about herself -- a fact which did      frustrate the Doctor to no end, and make him wonder if this was what his other      companions had felt like being around him. No, it wasn't about that at all. He'd      simply thought she must be getting homesick, after nearly a year away, and who      would pass up the chance to see their family at Christmas?       ❝Come on! Come on!❞ he repeated as he grabbed Irene by the hand, like an      excited child on Christmas morning eager to open his gifts, and dragged her out      of the TARDIS, to stand in front of an old -- well, would be old. It was still relatively      new in Irene's time -- theatre, with the words The Nutcracker Ballet -- Christmas      Eve Only spelled out in cheerful green letters on the marquee.      It was a very familiar theatre, for Irene, and the Doctor watched her face eagerly      for her reaction once she'd worked out where they were, a broad, self-satisfied      smile on his own face, since he was positive that she could only be delighted      by his surprise.