#The one thing I recall the most vividly was the connection with Yaz--

[liethrasir]

Why aren’t we interacting yet symbols

@fxtelism​ asked;  “ 🌴: I like one or more of your muses but I can’t come up with a muse I could play “

That’s entirely understandable-- Honestly that’s one of the largest walls I end up hitting when it comes to interacting with peeps. BUT! That can be fixed; lemme look over your muse list again once I have enough free time (I sadly don’t remember a lot of the muse lists of peeps who’ve followed me for awhile with the unprompted lengthy absence that hit me until I FINALLY got around to doing stuff with this blog. When I had to remake it and all--) and I’ll see who I can see throwing who at. And if there is one or two of my muses that especially stick out, hit me with the names and I’ll figure out who I can see interesting stuff happening with!

[ranxiaolong]

The Woman who fell in Love with the Stars - Chapter 1 - And to You, the Stars

Chapters: 1 [2] [3] [4] [5]

Summary: You stared wistfully towards the night sky. You had loved the stars ever since you were small. They held all sorts of secrets and wonderful mysteries you could not even begin to fathom. At least, until the Doctor had whisked you away to see them. You still could hardly articulate how much the stars intrigued you, their glow blurred through the Earth's atmosphere. The Doctor showed you the wonders of the universe, gave you a taste of magnificent splendor.

The Doctor was many things. She was a traveler, a Time Lord, and a keeper of secrets. To some, she was like a flame, warm and inviting. To others, she cut like ice. And to you? To you, she was the stars.

A/n: this one’s got angst!

The Doctor stood frozen as your lips were pressed against hers. This was something she hadn’t been expecting. She supposed a lot of your recent actions had begun to make sense now, all the stolen glances, the lingering touches, rosy cheeks. She was an idiot for not connecting the dots sooner. As you pulled away your eyelids fluttered open, anxious orbs searching her face, teeth pulling fitfully at your bottom lip. She recalled how you had been the past few weeks: always a touch closer than usual, a bit more nervous in her presence. 

Maybe Donna had been right all those years ago. She really was thick.

The Doctor felt her hearts race—but she remembered all the people before. This was how she felt when she was with Rose. How she felt when she was with River. Could she really accept these feelings? Accept the heartbreak that was going to come with them? Accept that as long as she cared for you and let you travel with her, you would be in the most danger you could possibly be in?

The Doctor became scared. Scared of her emotions, scared of her past, scared of the future. 

So, she did the only thing she knew how to do. 

She ran.

You found yourself dumped at your flat, a promise to pick you up later given only from Yaz. The Doctor had remained silent. The TARDIS doors slammed shut.

It had been three weeks since you had last seen the Time Lord.

You had started cooping yourself up since the end of the first week. You had most definitely seen Yaz and Ryan around in passing but had never managed to catch either for a quick exchange to see if they had seen the Doctor. It became unnecessary once you saw them out your window late one night running towards the fantastic blue box, the telltale sound of the TARDIS starting as soon as the door slammed shut behind them. The Doctor had not been waiting for you.

You padded over to your bed, falling across the mattress and face-planting onto your pillow. You laid nearly motionless, a few blinks away from passing out. You only rose from the bed two hours later, peeling your face away from a damp pillow.

————

You spent countless hours staring at the posters in your room. Foreign planets, solar systems, stars, and galaxies lined your walls. Some you had ever since you were a child, others were definitely newer as more were discovered. You glanced at the telescope you kept stored in the corner of your room. Ever since you were a child, you were completely obsessed with the stars. Your parents would tell you and the guests you brought over (much to your embarrassment and sometimes abject horror in your later years) the fantastical stories you would come up with as a child about being a space traveler—able to jump between the stars.

A humorless chuckle parted your lips as you reminisced. 

Jump between the stars, indeed.

A sigh swelled and deflated your chest. Your eyes traced over the celestial figures taped to your wall, one poster, in particular, standing out. A mass of reds and blues and greens. The gaseous form had never failed to catch your eye. The Orion Nebula. Out of all of the extraterrestrial forms that grabbed your attention, nothing did it more than the Orion Nebula. You had no idea why, but the nebulous cocoon fascinated you.

Maybe it was how the stars were unattainable. You had always believed that you could only reach them through a telescope until the Doctor gathered you in her arms and let you walk amongst the stars. She let you touch what was only to be looked at through glass and hundreds of light-years away. An invisible barrier that was not meant to be breached.

The Doctor was many things. She was a traveler, a Time Lord, and a keeper of secrets. To some, she was like a flame, warm and inviting. To others, she cut like ice. But to you? To you, she was the stars.

You fell backward onto your bed, softly bouncing upon impact. 

What you wouldn’t give to jump between the stars again. What you wouldn’t give to be with the woman who was the stars.

Was the woman you thought to be the stars to be as unattainable as you thought the stars were as well?

The TARDIS let you reach out to the stars. 

But would the stars ever reach out to you?

————

Around the second week of solitude, Yaz had stopped by. She had hesitated in front of your door before knocking, unsure of what to say. You had a stagnant conversation over tea.

You sipped your tea quietly, waiting for your best friend to speak.

“So...” Yaz hesitated, “How have you been?”

Your eyes never left Yasmin. She was obviously uncomfortable. 

“Fine. You?” You tersely replied.

“Good. I’m good.”

Silence engulfed the room.

“How has work been?”

“The same. Exactly the same as always.”

“I see.”

Another pause.

“Have anything going on this weekend?”

“No.”

Yaz’s eyes flicked between her cooling beverage and your eyes, nervousness intertwined with an unreadable expression on her face.

“See anything good on telly?”

Yaz spoke carefully, like stepping over broken glass. You could tell she was purposefully avoiding talking about the Time Lord. You insisted there was no need for her to check up on you, you were fine, and most certainly weren’t broken. You had shown her out the door with a clipped tone.

After Yasmin departed you sat back down at your dining table, staring at your now cold, half-filled cup of tea. Your mind raced with the quick glances Yaz cast between her cup and your face, eyebrows scrunched and a hesitant tongue. 

You let out a shaky breath as you planted your elbows on the table, head rested in your hands. You were fine.

The Doctor had not been waiting for you. The Doctor wasn’t going to wait for you.

The stars never reached out to others. The stars were to be admired from afar.

A lone droplet made its way down your cheek.

You were fine.

————

Nearly three days passed after Yaz visited your flat that it really hit you. You supposed before was just a numb sort of denial, but Yaz sitting in front of you must have slapped whatever part of your brain that was responsible for the numbness awake. Why had the Doctor left you? Why did she drop you in front of your doorstep without so much as a goodbye? You thought that you had calculated correctly. Even if the Doctor didn’t return your feelings, you thought she would at worst graciously let you down then continue on as if it never happened.

The stars were many things, but they were never intentionally cruel. 

They just were. Higher than anything else, conflict was beneath them.

You set the kettle on the stove as you turned up the flame, racking your brain for the potential cause of your exile from the Doctor’s presence. Your mind flitted to a planet you had visited months ago. 

You had saved the royalty from a plot to scandalize them. As thanks, they threw a ball and insisted on extending your stay another night. There had been a large banquet. The amazing visual spectacle of otherworldly food, customs, dances, and clothes enamored you. The princess has insisted on dancing a few songs with the Doctor and you had thought the Doctor’s rapidly filling dance card was merely a show of thanks in the customs of the alien race. 

The sharp whistle of the kettle broke you out of your thoughts temporarily, removing the boiling water from the stove to pour yourself a cup of tea. Your mind was once again with the thought of the ball. A frown tugged at your lips once you remembered stepping out onto the terrace for a quick breath of fresh air. 

You had seen the back of the Doctor’s head across a few potted bushes and had eagerly stepped towards her in hopes of asking for a dance before you left. Just as you opened your mouth to call out to the Time Lord you heard the voice of the princess, causing your mouth to quickly snap shut as you hid behind a wall. You vividly remembered the twist in your stomach as the princess started flirting with the Doctor, coy phrases thrown her way. You still felt the clench of your gut when the princess had out-right declared her affections towards the Doctor, asking for her to stay and permission to court her. 

The stars are never asked to be wooed. They are chased after with no hope of ever catching them in your arms.

You had quietly slipped away, hearing a soft murmur of an answer from the blonde alien. You couldn’t make out the words but the tone of voice led you to believe (along with the lack of the princess traveling with you when you left) that the Doctor had rejected her politely. Despite the rivalry for the Time Lord’s affections, your heart ached for the princess. 

You quickly gulped down your tea. 

You were an idiot. A massive, colossal, monumental idiot. Fresh tears spilled over your cheeks. She had the entire universe at her feet, all of space and time to choose from. She was the stars.

Why would she choose you?

————

You spent the following four days locked inside your flat when you weren’t at work. Yaz had stopped by regularly, knocking at your door the same time every day after her shift, like clockwork. You explicitly ignored the door. You couldn’t figure out if Yaz had felt bad about the Doctor’s actions or if it was something else. You didn’t particularly care to know, and you much preferred to wallow in peace.

On the fifth day of your self-insured solitude, the anger came. 

You slammed the door behind you harshly when you returned from work that night, nearly missing the bowl you stored your keys in as you stomp towards the kitchen, the sharp metallic notes bouncing off the walls of your flat. Your teeth grit as you yanked the fridge door open, looking for ingredients to make dinner. You growled in frustration at the lack of food, kicking the door, fridge door banging shut. You pulled a takeaway menu from a drawer, your corse movements causing a pen to clatter noisily to the floor. You dialed up your usual Chinese restaurant, the phone static and long dial tone grated on your nerves. As the man on the other end picked up the phone you plastered a false smile to your face, scraping up enough civility to refrain from shouting over the phone. Once the bag was delivered you plopped down on the couch in front of the television screen, eating noodles straight out of the container.

After you finished your meal you threw the paper takeaway box and disposable chopsticks into the bin. You headed directly to the shower, cranking the temperature up to a nearly scalding degree. Stepping out of the washroom you pulled a small towel with you to rub at your hair. Mood slightly tempered, you run the towel over your hair as you padded into your bedroom. Your eyes flitted to a scrape on your wall, the scratch caused by the alien when she was running about your room looking for something to use as part of some sort of complex device she was throwing together. Some sort of “timey-wimey detector” by her definition. The scratch was etched into the wall just beneath one of your many posters of the Orion Nebula.

The anger rushed back.

You glared intently at the spot, stepping closer. 

The bottled-up resentment exploded, physically manifesting in a violent punch to the wall. The loud thud was followed shortly by a loud string of curses. You cradled your bleeding fist. It hurt—you thought numbly. 

Good. 

You exited your room to find your first aid kit to clean and wrap your hand.

————

The following day you gave into Yaz’s insistent knocking, opening the door to find Yasmin’s eyes wide with surprise, her arms and legs in a position indicating she was about to forcefully ram the door open. You sighed, leaving the door open behind you as you turned around to walk back into the kitchen, turning on the gas to boil a kettle of water.

“Tea?”

“Ah, if you’ve got the kettle on then please.” Yaz shifted nervously at the mouth of the kitchen. 

The two of you stood in silence as you waited for the whistle of the kettle. Once the shrill noise started you turned off the gas and poured out two cups. You offered a ceramic cup to Yaz who took it gratefully, a soft “thanks” leaving her lips. You led her to the table and sat down, waiting for her explanation.

Yaz sucked in a breath, “I want to start off by apologizing,” the Pakistani woman fiddled with her fingers. “I know it won’t be enough for what happened, but I’d like to anyway. I didn’t think that the Doc would just leave you here and not explain anything. I thought she had talked with you or something had happened. I couldn’t imagine the Doc wanted you to leave.” 

You slammed your mug down, the harsh sound of ceramic on wood made Yaz flinch. “Wanted? The Doctor kicked me out without so much as a goodbye!”

Yaz held her hands up attempting to backtrack, “I just meant that before she seemed pretty attached to you. I honestly thought that if you weren’t coming it would have had to have been your own decision—which I found odd since you love traveling with the Doc. I tried asking her about it but...” Yaz bit her lip, “I guess when I pieced it all together was her total avoidance of the topic.”

You fell back against the backing of the chair. The Doctor refused to even talk about you. A sigh passed your lips. Well, if the message wasn’t clear enough from the Doctor shunning you like you were some personified form of the plague, her refusal of admitting to your existence did the job quite nicely.

“I don’t know what happened, but if there’s been some sort of misunderstanding between you two, at least let me help,” Yaz’s worried eyes flickered across your face, “You’re my best friend, I don’t want to see you upset because of this.”

A dry chuckle left your lips, “Trust me, the only misunderstanding was entirely my fault. I made a miscalculated decision. I obviously read the signs wrong.”

Yaz’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “What’d you mean?”

You bit at the inside of your cheek, “Nothing. It’s unimportant.”

A frown made its way onto Yaz’s lips, “Unimportant? My best friend locks herself away for days on end and you say it’s unimportant?” Yaz suddenly stood up, chair legs scraping harshly against the floor, “I don’t care what anybody says—I don’t care if the bloody Queen says it’s unimportant—but if you’re feeling so upset that you won’t even let me into your flat for nearly three and a half bloody weeks then nothing regarding it is unimportant!” Yasmin breathed heavily, her arms trembling now on the table from where she slammed her hands down. “Nothing about you is unimportant,” she added softly.

You sat in shock at the forcefulness of Yaz’s words. You knew she cared deeply for you, as you did her, but that was on a different level. You grimaced as you mulled over your actions over the past few weeks. True, you were mad, but it was no justification for shutting your best friend out entirely.

You sighed as you pinched the crease between your eyebrows with your hand. You were acting like a total twat to Yaz when this wasn’t even her fault.

“What happened to your hand?”

You looked up, your confused irises making a connection with Yasmin’s concerned-slash-alarmed ones. You glanced down at your hand, realizing it was the one you did a poor job wrapping up the past night.

You waved it off, “It’s fine, just a scratch. Really. It’s—” you cut yourself off, the word ‘unimportant’ on the tip of your tongue, “fine. I’m good.”

The frown on Yaz’s lips returned as she walked around the side of the table and kneeled in front of you, taking your injured hand gingerly between her’s. She carefully unwrapped the haphazardly applied bandaging, causing a low hiss to escape your clenched teeth.

“Not fine,” Yaz mumbled.

“Trust me, the wall had it worse.” You attempted to joke, wincing as she turned the joint of your wrist in her hand. 

“That doesn’t make it any better.” Yaz glanced up to your face, grimace present, before going back to inspect the wound. “The joint doesn’t seem too damaged but it needs ice. I’ll help you clean up and wrap the scrape.”

“Yaz, really, I’m good,” you fumbled as she stood up, “you don’t need to—“

“I want to. Now let me help or I’m going to tie you down if I have to and properly wrap it.” Yaz squinted, challenging you to retaliate.

You let out a squeak but shut your mouth, conceding. You watched Yaz leave the room to fetch the first aid kit you kept in the bathroom cupboard. You could hear the shuffling and the muffled “ah-ha” once Yaz must have found it.

Her head swung out from around the corner, raising an expectant eyebrow at you. You nearly raised one back in question, earning you a long-suffering sigh.

Yaz pulled you by the arm towards the bathroom, rolled up your sleeve and turned on the tap. She felt the running water until it was at a suitable temperature then brought your hand to rest beneath it. You hissed at the warm water, the wound still open and stinging.

Your eyes flitted towards Yaz’s face, her concentrated yet soft expression catching you by surprise. You felt her thumbs carefully brush over the skin of your knuckles. 

“You need to be more careful, I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Yaz opened a bottle of antibiotic cream and rubbed it gently over the torn skin. 

You bit your tongue to prevent another long hiss from escaping your mouth. “A bit late for that.” Not quite enough to bite back a remark, however.

Yaz’s eyes flicked up to your eyes momentarily, quickly going back to dressing your hand, pulling out the gauze. “Then tell me what happened. If there’s anything I can do to help I’ll do it.” You opened your mouth and before you got a single word out Yaz cut in, “Not about the wall. You know what I was talking about.”

You couldn’t prevent the lopsided half-grin that edged its way into your face for an instant. Yaz always knew when you were about to dodge a question. She was always so keen at picking things up when she was around you. “Well, I suppose that attempt has been thwarted.” Your smile fell as you remembered what landed you in this situation in the first place. “Ahhh, how to start this… I guess I should start at the beginning. So you remember when we went to the Orion Nebula? That was—”

“When you first realized you fancied the Doctor?” Yaz finished your sentence. 

Your eyes widened in alarm, your surprise quickly brushing off how her voice, for a split second, sounded rather forced.

“How did…”

“Trust me, everybody else noticed it except for her.” Yasmin didn’t look up at your eyes that time, hers glued to the bandage she was slowly wrapping.

You let out the breath you were holding. “Then I guess I don’t need to explain that bit.” You bit your lip as you carefully chose which words to proceed with. “I sort of confessed to her.”

The bandage abruptly tightened around your wrist, causing a sharp cuss to be drawn from your lips.

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to do that! That caught me by surprise.” Yaz loosened the fabric before going back to tie it properly. “So you confessed,” her voice rose a pitch at the first syllable before dropping to her usual octave, “That’s exciting. How did she respond?”

A forceful smile that more closely resembled a grimace pulled tightly on your lips. “I was thrown out of the TARDIS.”

Yaz’s hands stopped moving. 

“Yaz?”

Yasmin was completely still. “I’m sorry, she what?”

You hesitated, not sure what the tone Yaz was using meant. “She threw me out of the TARDIS.” You annunciated each word carefully.

Yaz resumed wrapping your bandage, securing the loose end so it wouldn’t unwind. As soon as she tugged a few times to make sure it was properly on, Yasmin stood up and turned to walk out the door. “Right, then if you’ll excuse me I have some business to take care of.”

Your eyes widened in alarm, “Yaz it’s fine, you don’t need to talk to her about it!”

“It’s not fine!” Yaz wheeled around, anger and something you couldn’t quite place reflected back in her eyes, “You’ve been depressed and angry and I don’t know what else, but this is not fine! She can’t just kick you out because you happen to like her! You’re worth more than that!” Yaz’s fists tightened, “You aren’t just some person she can brush aside.”

“Yaz, really, please don’t talk to her about this. I’m sure she just wants a bit of space and it’ll be alright.” You forced a smile on your face. “It’ll be alright in the end. I’m sure she just wants a bit of space.” 

You weren’t sure who you were trying to convince.

Your best friend worried at her lip. She eventually sighed, giving in, “If it’s what you want, then I’ll listen.” Yaz’s eyes flicked over your face, “Would it make you feel better if I stopped traveling with her too?”

“What?”

Yaz let out a huff, “I just thought that you must be feeling left out from everything she takes us to do. If it would make you feel better I could sit out of the next few and stay with you.”

You shook your head quickly, “No! Please don’t on my account.”

Yaz inspected your face.

“Really, Yaz. Actually…” you paused, “if you could just tell me what adventures you’ve gone on while I wasn’t with you would be good. I miss it.” You fiddled with your fingers. “Just describing it and all that would be enough.”

Tell me about the stars.

Yasmin eyed you critically before relenting, “Alright then. But if you have second thoughts, I won’t hesitate to give the Doc a piece of my mind on the matter.”

A small smile made its way onto your mouth, “I don’t doubt it. Our tea has gone cold, let me pour out a new cup and you tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Yaz shook her head as a small grin etched its way onto her face, following you into the kitchen. “You win. So the first place we went to was this weird planet with an enormous bird that looked like a dodo that tried dressing up for some sort of alien disco…”

And for the first time in nearly four weeks, everything was unequivocally, indisputably, incontrovertibly fine.