#shewandersoff

               “ OH HONEY, aren’t you a long way from home, then ?? ”

      Her rifle was slung back over her SHOULDER, a sort of amused smile on her face in the dark. The winding alley was damp and the Parisian night air COLD, and Charlie was as typically underdressed as USUAL for her patrol of the streets before she’d come ACROSS this girl --------- but while she was dressed unsuitably, Charlie was at least dressed time-appropriately. This stranger decidedly WASN’T. She was human, though, and perhaps THAT was what provoked Charlie’s sympathy.

                        “ I think you’d better come with me, love. ”

body hunched over the console - she still aches - her wrists still reddened from binds that held her for god knows how long, she’d lost count. cheeks gaunt and eyes resting in darkened sockets from days without sleep. the doctor’s only been free a matter of hours, but unless you were to look closely, you wouldn’t think anything had happened, let alone her being held and tortured for weeks, only able to escape thanks to rose. 

despite the dull pain in her shoulders, she pushes herself off of the console, coat swirling in an exaggerated motion as she spins on her heel. “well, where to now? somewhere relaxing, don’t you think? i think we could both use a day off after all of that.” the smile is wide, cheek to cheek, but the sparkle that is usually oh so visible in her eyes is faded. she’s on the cusp of breaking, and she’s determined to not let that happen. 

        It took him long, despite the seemingly endless time he always seemed short of it, acceptance was a hard thing. Ever since regenerating there seemed to be a restless anger he was chasing, frustrations combined over nine hundred years that were only now surfacing, accepting it was too much yet refusing too hard and a healthy mix utterly impossible.

        Anger was passion, a strong emotion that burnt just as fierce for Rose. After all his selfless act saved her life, and he intended very much for her to keep that. Yet the frustration grew,  he didn’t feel worthy, endlessly searching for a man like he used to be, time passed and he was still empty handed.

Send me “✿” for 2 headcanons about our muses’ relationshipCurrently accepting!

1) The Doctor adores dancing with Rose. They make an agreement that they have to have a little down time to dance together in the TARDIS once in a while, playing all kinds of music and twirling each other around. It’s a pastime the Doctor loves and she misses those carefree moments, so she does her best to try and recreate them when she can.

almost immediately, her eyes darken when she sees her, the usual terrifying saccharine sweetness replaced by something much darker. the girl that stole the doctor. she swoops him, a bit of a trounce in her step that is not river at all, but is certainly characteristic of MISSY. 

       “Yes, you certainly are blonde--loving that!”  

The Master prowls in a circle around possibly the most  prestigious of the Doctor’s former companions, then comes to a halt at her side like a fussy dressmaker.  He tsks at her  pink hoodie, the cubic zirconia studs all over it, and tugs on a strand of her hair.        “Split ends, though.  This is why I keep it short.  SO!!!! Staring         into the Heart of his TARDIS: curious nemeses want to know.         Was it more like having gas, but inside your brain, or an           orgasm, or both, or neither?”  

He pauses to uproariously laugh, the sort of belly laugh that comes from a 17th century English earl surrounded by  Irish wolfhounds and a roaring fire.

 It’s patently obnoxious.