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Watching the First Doctor for the first time, and it’s wild how different he is at the start. Very “we mustn’t interfere, we’re just observers of history” energy. All stiff coat, no meddling. But then—he fakes a busted fluid link just so they have to explore the city? He’s not above poking the universe when it suits him.

He’s curious, definitely. Almost childishly so. But unless it directly involves Susan being in danger, he’s surprisingly hands-off. Cold, even. It’s like he’s treating the universe as a lab experiment and he’s the guy behind the glass.

What’s interesting is—I always assumed, since he and Susan stole the TARDIS and we know he was kind of a disaster at the Academy, that he was just a bad Time Lord. Like, the rebel from the start. But watching him now? It’s kind of clear he still buys into a lot of their ideals. The whole “we observe, we don’t interfere” mindset? That’s textbook Time Lord. He's not so much a rebel as he is a rule-follower with an itchy curiosity.

And that’s where Barbara and Ian come in. And by extension, Susan—who, let’s be real, is clearly picking up her worldview more from them than from her grandfather.

Barbara and Ian don’t just observe. They care. They intervene. They ask questions like “Why is this happening?” and then go do something about it. They push back when the Doctor tries to stay detached. They hold him accountable.

And the more I watch, the more I think they're why the Doctor changes. They don’t just travel with him—they teach him how to be better.

Which is kind of hilarious when you think about it. All it took to corrupt this ancient, immortal time traveler was two schoolteachers and his granddaughter.

Step By New Step

Woo! So excited to be postin' my first prompt fic for @flashfictionfridayofficial!! What better way to start things off than with this particular prompt for these two as they work through the aftermath of everything that is Journey's End. [over on ao3] Fandom: Doctor Who Pairing: Metacrisis Doctor/Rose Tyler WC: 1000 “Still gettin’ used to sleeping like a regular person?” 

Jumping, the Doctor twirls around, forces a grin as he meets Rose’s cheeky smile. She’s leaning against the door-frame, shadows beneath her eyes. Looks a bit like he feels, all out of sorts.

“Regular? Who says I’m regular. Never stuck to regular, me.” 

“Like how you’re taking your coffee?” There’s a definite hint of laughter there now to her tone. “Irregular?”

Two days. It’s been two days in the wake of his original self leaving. Well, fifty-three hours and sixteen minutes, actually. But who’s counting?

Not him. Why’d he go and do something like that?

Okay, maybe it’s helping. Has been. Kind of. 

Fingers tapping against his thigh, he stares at the coffee machine. Listening to the water bubbling away. Optimal temperature. Tries not to count down the seconds in time with how long it’s been since he’d flipped the switch, destroyed the Dalek fleet, told Rose he—

“Still gettin’ used to sleeping like a regular person?” 

Jumping, the Doctor twirls around, forces a grin as he meets Rose’s cheeky smile. She’s leaning against the door-frame, shadows beneath her eyes. Looks a bit like he feels, all out of sorts.

“Regular? Who says I’m regular. Never stuck to regular, me.” 

“Like how you’re taking your coffee?” There’s a definite hint of laughter there now to her tone. “Irregular?” She pushes off from the frame, heading over to join him proper in this almond-expanse of a kitchen. “Didn’t think you even knew how to work one of these things.” ‘Or need to use it,’ is implied by the flicker of her gaze over his features—probably looks tired. And he is.

It’s awful feeling it. How do humans function like this from day to day? 

“Oh, there’s plenty you don’t know about me, Rose Tyler.” Like how her mascara’s smudged and he has the weirdest urge to fix it. While simultaneously wanting to go right back to bed this very instant, and what does that say about him? Him? The Doctor.

“Mm, so I’ve noticed.” There’s a hint of cheek there, but the way her gaze flicks away from him says it’s more than that.

Smoothing down his shirt, he focuses on the machine more than her. Oh, the water’s stopped boiling, he can… do the clicky thing now.

Fit the coffee grounds in. 

Though as he struggles with that, a sigh breaks through the open space. And Rose’s hands, gentle and still so kind, take the portafilter from his.

“Lemme do it,” she says. “Saves us a couple of minutes.” She flashes him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and he shuffles back, letting her work the machine.

It feels… so wrong, this. Domestic. 

But also… 

Studying her profile, he chews on the inside of his mouth—probably picked it up from Donna, not his habit. It’s not just weariness, is it? Not with Rose. It’s… it’s probably him.

More than likely.

Most definitely.

‘But he’s not you.’ So heart-broken as she’d said it back then, with eyes only for his original self. Standing right there, beside the TARDIS.  “Sorry,” he blurts out.

She stills. Then she’s fitting a cup beneath the nozzle. “For what?” It’s casual, a little strained, her response.

“For… Just…” He flails a hand about for the answer. Can’t push any of what he really wants to say out into the open. Everything within him’s babbling about it too fast. “This,” he settles on. 

Me, he almost says. But doesn’t.

“S’ not your fault,” she says, cold, curt. Glaring at the coffee machine like it’s out to get her. Then she takes a breath in, releases it. “Just… need time to work through this, yeah?” She glances his way, the small smile’s back. But it’s a bit brighter, not meant to hurt. “An’ we got plenty of that now.” 

She’s saying it for him, not for herself. He can tell. 

He doesn’t know how, just does. In the inflection. In the way she looks at him, like she’s seeing someone else. Someone better.

Running a hand through his hair, fast and rough, he breathes out through his nose. Turns away. 

He hears the clink of the cup three seconds before arms wrap around his waist. “Don’t,” she says, then there's light pressure—she's pressing her forehead against his back. Warmth against his spine. “Don’t do that.”

He looks down at the tiled floor. “Do what?” 

“Go all distant, going somewhere I can’t follow.” Her arms tighten around him.  On automatic he rests a hand over hers, runs his thumb over the back of it. “I’m still here.” 

“Then stay here.”

His singular heart twists in his chest. And he turns, holding her close. The rapid beat of her own heart thrums against his ribcage, her floral perfume brushing past his nose. 

He kisses the crown of her head. It’s stiff, but his to do. For her sake. “All this time,” he murmurs, “I’ve been running. But when I was at my worst… you showed up.”

Something like a laugh breaks out of her, but it catches in her throat. “Just that one word: 'run', and it’s all we did,” she says, teasing. “Going from one place to the next, never stopping. All those different places we went to… People we met. An’ you could say what you like, but I could see how kind you were, even then.” “Couldn’t have asked for a better friend, pulling more of that out of me. Making me see it for myself.” Stepping back, the Doctor looks into her eyes. Hazel, flecked with hints of green. Lashes fluttering as she tries to fight back her tears. “Or who you’ve become to me now.”

She reaches up, cupping his face between her hands. And for a moment, just a moment, they stay like that. Seeing past everything they were and to what they’ll be able to have in the future—their future—together. Separate strands from their timeline weaving together in silver and gold. 

Then he kisses her. 

It’s an awkward thing, unlike the surge of emotions yanked out of them both on Bad Wolf Bay. Slow with hesitance, but she guides him, her lips soft against his own.    When they part, he presses his forehead to hers. Gentle, as she’d been with him. Trying to convey what he can’t in words.

And together they breathe into the quiet. 

First Doctor study with one brush

@pscentral event 36: TRIOS

↳ Eleven, Amy Pond & Rory Williams

finally watching this stupid show

Doctor Who rewatch ➜ one gifset per episode

↳01.04 - Aliens of London

A story I made for my favourite FFVII relationship, Tifa/Aerith! I also made little covers for the two chapters, it’s general rated and 2k words long.

i love the doctor and graham old man bonding moments

jamie mccrimmon is truly the companion of all time. he's gay married to the doctor. he's a jacobite piper from the eighteenth century. he only started travelling with the doctor because polly wanted to keep him as a pet. his legacy will haunt the doctor forever. he doesn't understand half the technology he encounters but rolls with it anyway. he's the longest-running companion by number of episodes. half of them are lost. he had to have his memories wiped by the time lords because he would never have chosen to leave the doctor of his own free will. he's the inspiration behind outlander. no one is doing it like him.