PSA: The “it’s times like this I miss Amy” line is a joke, because Amy has long legs and Clara is short, making it hard for her to reach the sonic screwdriver.
I’ve sort of been avoiding this for a long time. And just writing these few open lines, it’s already making me sort of wobbly and sad.
So, as most of you should know, I’ve had this blog for a long time. Nearly three years now, and it’s been a wonderful run. There were hardships among my writing, but most of it was wonderful and I loved it— wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
And I’m so glad I decided to watch Doctor Who. My very first episode was when Martha and the Doctor go to meet Shakespeare. And so I regret to inform you all that this blog is probably going to be laid to rest for a while, probably never picked up again.
That smile was something he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten— perhaps not that much, maybe, but he felt he’d gone far too long without seeing it that basking in it now was akin to waking up from a dream. And here he was, thrusted upon something he’d gone too long without, living with his hearts so far away from the stars that they couldn’t hope to exist outside of those eyes, those hearts, that soul.
Eyes followed Ten’s subtle movement and he felt his feet fall one after the other, sinking into the warm earth below him. Part of him didn’t know whether he should be laughing or crying, just the gentle prickling behind his eyes, and he may have already been. Must have, for the moment he crossed any and all distance between them, he had wet eyes in the crook of his fiance’s neck. There, right there, right here— this was him at his best. Smiling, sniveling like the happy, emotional man he was.
“— I missed you.”
It hadn’t felt right in so long. Nothing felt right, but this did, and he couldn’t grip Ven hard enough; couldn’t push himself into the hug firm enough for his taste, although he was already very much clinging to his husband like a madman. Warmth exploded from the very center of his core, the tight knot slowly dwindling until it became his hearts, until he knew this was it- this was where he had lead himself. He’d trekked miles, hadn’t ate anything for days now, and this was what he was moving towards. Every bleeding ache he’d suffered, each time he’d slept in the cold….this was to find him, his husband. Like a beacon of light at the end of an undeniably long and dark tunnel, he knew his journey was coming to a close; his adventure could start again. “Ven, oh—!”
With every lungful of air that passed through him, the Doctor only brought himself that much closer, as if he knew it would heal him. And it did. It closed his mind to anything and everything but the man in his arms, the Doctor, his Doctor. He felt their hearts string together again, their connection grow beneath the haze of his silent thank-you; the younger pulled at that connection, let the barrier of their mental walls fall together in unison, each pull of that string making his blood sing. Soon enough his lips met Ven’s for a moment, only to let their foreheads come together, eyes hooding shut until the very last thing he seen was his husband; how it should’ve been.
“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you—” As much as it came out English, Gallifreyan too fell from his tongue, fully and blossoming with all of his undaunted love and affection for Ven.
[ SMS; ] BUT HOW HASNT HE WINSTON IS HUGE
[ SMS; ] WHERE DOES A FOX THAT SIZE HIDE FROM A LYCAN