#and Donna for being 'too loud'. i wanted to say youre racist and you have bad taste but i held my tongue

[anotherpapercut]

it will never not piss me off the way people hated Martha Jones because she was in love with the doctor and they saw that as her only personality trait despite Rose Tyler and Amy Pond also having a significant part of their characters revolve around being in love with the doctor

[bucky-s-girl-n-stuff]

Everything that could happen in a week part.5

summary: you’re invited to the Thrombey’s Halloween party, by your friend Meg. Between old man being too handsy while drunk and the others having heated political arguments borderline racist, you manage to survive for a week thanks to a new acquaintance you make.

pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

warning: getting over the trauma of sexual assault, fake murder, mention of nudity, drug.

->part 1 -> part 2 -> part 3 -> part 4 

Time at the Manoir was passing by quickly. I only had one day left. Harlan and Meg were doing everything they could to take my mind of what had occurred, and it worked. I fell into a routine with the two of them which consisted of going on walks and playing board games or even Harlan telling us bits of his new book. I was doing fine and my mindset was no longer negative. I even agree to go to therapy after Harlan brought it up again. I had only gone to two sessions so far but it did me good. I was back on track and I knew it wasn’t my fault. My attacker was in jail waiting for his trial and I found out I wasn’t his first victim which meant I wouldn’t have to go to make a testimony except if they lacked evidence. I had everything under control and was analysing the situation from outside. I felt like what had happened had made me stronger and I couldn’t help but see how it had made me a bit less introverted too. I talked more and even shared things from my past with Meg. It felt nice to have someone to talk to.

The only thing that was bothering me was Ransom. The second I got better he went back to his old self. He brought a girl home last night and I felt stupid to have imagined something serious could’ve happened between us. I couldn’t help to think about him though. Even if everything told me that it would never happen, the two of us, I still had hope. I knew it was all a facade and that he had shown me his true self. But we didn’t know each other well and I knew I wouldn’t be the one to change him. I scowled myself because he shouldn’t have to change himself for someone else. And I realised that I liked him no matter his behaviour.  

For my last complete day at the Manoir, Meg and Harlan decided to organize a little game night inspired by the board game “Cluedo”. They took the murder party very seriously because they had invited back the rest of the family and everyone had to come in disguise. It was six o'clock and everyone had arrived. Nobody asked me how I was doing which was a relief but I was sure Harlan had something to do with it. Harlan was the victim because he had created the intrigue. Meg, Marta, Donna, Linda, Richard and Ransom were the accused. The rest of us, Jacob, Walt, Joni and I were the investigators. Harlan had provided us with a map of the house and where we could find every accused at the start (because they were allowed to move and hide any evidence during the investigation). I was off to a pretty good start, far ahead of the rest of the investigators. I had interviewed Meg three times as she was careful to drop only a part of the hints, each time. Marta was the easiest because she couldn’t lie so I only had to ask her one good question so she would spill everything she knew. Donna, Linda and Joni wasted my time by talking too much and even confused me more than once so I had to talk to each one of them at least four times. Richard seemed annoyed by the game and told me everything he knew without even me asking. I was one step away to confirm my theory about who had “murdered” Harlan. All I had to do was interview, Ransom. I searched on the map where he was, but of course, he was not in the room he was assigned to at the start. I started looking in every room of the house but couldn’t find him. I then remembered that he liked to go to the patio/balcony. I made sure no one saw me leaving the house and go up the stairs that lead to Ransom. Once upstairs, I saw him smoking a joint. It was exactly like the first time. The same position, the same look in his eyes. Once he saw me he smiled mischievously. “You found me” His signature smirk appeared on his face while saying that. “ I did” I answered, not moving. I was completely entranced by the man and I hated it. It was the first time I was attracted by a man and it had to be him. What was I doing… I didn’t know if what I felt was wrong or what it was exactly but I couldn’t help feeling it. “Where were you three hours ago when Harlan got killed?” “I was in my room.” “Joni confirmed that she saw you going outside.” “Well, she’s lying.” “I don’t think so. She has a very good alibi.” “Okay I went on a walk, is that a crime, detective…?” He said the last word propping himself up from the wall and stalked toward me, his smirk growing even more. “Why did you lie then?” I asked almost in a whisper as he was closing the distance between us. He stopped mere inches from me and leaned in. “Because I’m the one who killed my grandfather, detective” he whispered in my ear. I shuddered at his confession and the fact that I could smell his infamous cologne that was invading my head, made everything blurry and confused inside of me. I couldn’t think or process things as he was intoxicating me. I closed my eyes trying to think and clear my mind. When I opened them he was looking at me, no longer smiling or smirking. I couldn’t read his expression or even guess what he was thinking about. I looked down at my notepad where I had written down every clue I had obtained. My theory was valid and I just had to submit it to Harlan. I looked back at Ransom, still staring at me. “Thank you for your time,” I said before going back inside by the bay window this time. Once I was not in Ransom’s sight I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. I realized that I was shaking. I gathered myself before going to the last floor into Harlan’s room.

When he saw me he immediately had a smile plastered on his face. “I knew you would be the first one! You’re too clever for this game.” He laughed. I smiled at his enthusiasm and sat on the bed next to him. “I didn’t even tell you who I’m accusing, I might be wrong you know..” “Nah, I’m sure you’ve got the right answer,” he said winking at me. “Okay… your killer is… Ransom?” I hesitated. “Ah! You’d be a great detective y/n !” I laughed at his comment and he joined me. We sat there going through my investigation. He told me He knew Joni would be the most difficult to talk to as she is a real chatterbox. We laughed some more at things I was told until Jacob got in the room. When he saw I was there, he screamed behind him telling everybody I had won and they could stop their investigation to which we heard grunts and relieved sighed.

Everyone was starting to leave. They whished me the best before leaving and we shared a few jokes about the game. I felt genuinely happy after this game night. “Thank you so much for tonight Harlan, I had so much fun. It was a perfect last night.” I said while hugging him as he was going to sleep. “You’re welcome y/n. Remember you are always welcome here. You are a part of this family. You even make it greater.” I was so touched by his words that I didn’t know what to say so I just hugged him again and wished him good night.

Meg and I had decided to continue the night in the living room with a bottle of white wine and some sushi. We were laughing and telling stories after stories. Before we knew it was pretty late and I had to drive tomorrow so we decided to call it a night. “Thank you Meg, you are a really great friend and I don’t deserve you. I love you so much..” I said while hugging her as I did with Harlan. “Aww, y/n stop or I’m gonna cry… You deserve the world and I love you more!” she exclaimed a bit tipsy. I laughed at her antics and put her in bed. As I was closing her door as quietly as I could. I heard the wood flooring crack behind me. I turned around scared by the sound and saw Ransom in front of his bedroom door. Apparently, he had tried not to make a noise so I wouldn’t notice him. His face emanated a guilty look. It was like deer caught in headlights. I walked toward him so I wouldn’t have to speak too loud. “I just wanted to say thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You protected me and took care of me when I needed it the most. I owe you a lot, Ransom.” He looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite decifer but I could see in his eyes that he was not indifferent to my words. As he was going to say something his bedroom door opened, and I saw a woman with only a robe to hide her naked body in the doorframe. “Oh sorry, I hope I wasn’t interrupting something…” she said. I looked at Ransom but he was looking down his eyes closed clearly embarrassed by me. I nodded at his lack of response and knew that I had imagined everything about him caring about me. “No, I’m sorry he’s all yours,” I said walking to my bedroom and closing the door behind me. I leaned against the back of my door and let out a sight. I could feel something inside my chest being torn apart. Was it my heart? I went to bed telling myself I’ll feel better in the morning and dozed off quickly. What I didn’t know was that Ransom had asked the girl to leave a few minutes after because he knew that I was the one he really wanted.

[tansypoisoning]

Preview 3 (/4?)

I’m still trying to figure out a lot of the things for the plot of (Un)Conditional (can you tell I almost never plan out a series before I start it?) so I’m working two disparate parts at the same time. I’m not sure if I’ll have any Thanksgiving Dinners in the story because I’m afraid they’ll be boring/unecessary and I’m kind of worried about writing a time-skip.

I appreciate any advices on writing Mr.Blanc’s dialogue too :)

Warnings: Daddy kink

You hadn’t been to many dinner parties, so perhaps your frame of reference wasn’t the best, but you could say with confidence that the bash at Harlan Thrombey’s mansion was the absolute worst one you’d been invited to.

The interrogation continued at the dining table: they wanted to know about what College you’d graduated from, where did you live before moving to Massachusetts, what did your parents do, if you had any siblings. Being questioned this thoroughly was never fun, but it was made even worse by the fact that one of your favorite authors was right there and you couldn’t seem to find a chance to ask him anything about his books.

Worse than being asked those questions was not being asked anything. When you were silent the room was either silent save for the sound of people chewing or taken over by the rest of the Thrombey’s. It was better when it was just your disgusting collective mouth noises. You learned that Joni owned a business that sold mainly t-shirts with inspirational clothes, crystals, and snake oil and that she had some troubling views on vaccines. You learned that Linda owned a real estate business that seemed to be the most important thing in her life right now, and that her husband had done something to really piss her off, her fingers dancing dangerously close to the carving knife whenever he would speak. You learned that Walt’s family was racist, and given some of their comments, you concluded they were racists of the “extremely” variety.

Aside from a few token eye-rolls and jabs here and there, everyone was acting like this was all normal, like they were just poking fun at each other’s favorite football teams. Was this normal for most other families and you had just lucked out with yours? No, there was no way this was normal. What the fuck were those people doing?

Or rather, what the fuck were you doing? You were still taking part in this farce, weren’t you?

You got to meet Ransom’s great-grandmother at least, although you weren’t sure she even realized you existed. You didn’t mention Harlan looked good for his age. The opportunity didn’t present itself, and even if it had you probably wouldn't have said anything.

The night ended with Jodi drunkenly swaying in front of the fireplace to Nina Simone’s rendition of “Born Under a Bad Sign” while balancing a wine glass and trying to get a sour-faced Donna to join her, Walt and Linda moving to the porch to smoke, Harlan sitting in a corner talking animatedly with Marta, while in the opposite end of the room Ransom and Jacob leaned against a wall having a hushed conversation, and with you stuck on a couch in between Richard and Wanetta. You were sure the three of you looked the picture of depression. Fran was, wisely, nowhere to be found.

It was hard to hide how ecstatic you felt when Ransom announced you two would be leaving. You said goodbye to all of them, and most were satisfied just nodding in response or at most shaking hands. Joni, however, hugged you when you announced your departure.

You and Ransom got into his car in silence. It was only when Harlan’s house was out of sight that you let out a sigh of relief.

That got his attention. “Were they everything you were hoping for?”

“I thought you were being hyperbolic when you said your family was a mess.”

“Hyperbolic? Me?” He snickered.

“Are they always this bad?”

The humor vanished from his face. For a moment you thought he was going to go off on you for criticizing his family.

“They’re not so bad...” He said, and you turned to him in disbelief. “There’s enough material for twenty comedy of manners novels, at least.”

You couldn't help but smile. This would all be so much easier if Ransom was just some dumb hot guy.

“Like I have the time to write anything. Maybe you should give it a go. Become this century’s Jane Austen.”

“Like I have the patience to write anything,” he retorted. The smile on his face was more endearing than it had any right to be “But I’m willing to pay you to ghostwrite for me.”

“If you can pay me more than my actual job I’ll take it.” You covered your face with your hands as you chuckled. He hadn’t earned that chuckle; you wouldn't show it to him.

The conversation died down organically, and maybe you should’ve just left it that way, enjoyed the comfortable silence. You probably should have, because you didn’t.

“Marta said they were good people.”

He scoffed. “Marta’s fucking a moron.”

“She’s hot.”

“She’s gotta be something.”

When you went too long without answering, Ransom turned to you with a shameless grin “Are you jealous?”

“What would be the point in being jealous? This is an open thing.”

“You are jealous,” He snickered, then was silent for a moment. He drummed his fingers against the wheel and sighed before speaking again “I’m not interested in her, trust me.”

Maybe he was being honest, but asking you to trust him was too much.

“Wouldn’t matter if you were.” You made a point to shrug. He gave no indication he had even heard you.

Ransom turned the radio on at some point, and the music helped to alleviate the tension permeating the air. For the rest of the trip, the only soundtrack was the rumble of the engine and the droning of the top 40.

Ransom parked on the street off to the side of your blocky apartment building and you got out. You were slamming the door shut when you noticed he had climbed off the car as well. No words were spoken as he followed you through the sidewalk and across the minuscule lawn, just a patch of grass with a few topiary bushes sprinkled here and there. You couldn't really feel his breath on your neck, but you imagined you could, and all the hairs in your body stood at attention.

You took the stairs up. It was a deliberate decision; you only lived on the third floor and the elevator would ruin the mood. As you climbed the steps, you wondered if Ransom was looking at your ass. You didn’t know that he was, but you also didn’t know that he wasn’t, and that had a torrent of blood rushing to your head.

Reality was a little foggy when you reached your door. You unlocked it, let yourself and Ransom in, and he was on you as soon as you had closed it again.

Ransom held your head in both hands, effectively keeping you from looking away. You could’ve closed your eyes, but you didn’t.

“You’ve been so good today.” His voice was slow and sweet like molasses as he spoke against your mouth. It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him if only he’d let you “I think you deserve a reward.”

You nodded dumbly, loving the way his soft lips felt as your brushed against them. He slapped one of your cheeks just hard enough to rouse you from your trance.

“Yeah?” He asked “Then you better ask nicely.”

A whine slipped past your lips. You weren’t complaining – no, this was foreplay.

“Please,” you begged “Please, can I have my reward, daddy?”

He answered with a cocky smile that was all Ransom, then parted from you.

“Strip,” he commanded as he appraised your body, now a few steps away.

You pulled your shirt above your head, then moved to your slacks, stepping out of them in a way that you hoped was alluring. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but his gaze was zeroed in on you and you took that as a good sign. He also wasn’t complaining, and he wasn’t too polite to be gentle in his feedback.

Next were your bra and panties, and then you were bared to him. Ransom examined you with the same clinical look for a while longer. He really had a gift for affecting your self-image.

“Hands behind your back, shoulders against the door,” he said “And keep your hands there. If I see them move you’re not cumming.”

You knew he meant it; once you’d neglected his instructions and he’d edged you all night long, then tied your hands on the bed post and went to sleep while you writhed on your bed and rubbed your thighs together trying to get off. By the time the sun rose, you were begging him for an orgasm.

You did as he said and waited. The waiting was part of the game, and it always meant he wanted more than to just get off. You preferred him like this, even though it meant you couldn't touch yourself without his explicit permission.

Ransom stalked in your direction, shoulders pushed back, and you felt even smaller. The cheap plywood door vibrated with your own tremors and made a loud rickety noise. He had such long legs; he should’ve gotten to you in no time, yet it was an eternity before his feet landed in front of you.

He held your jaw with one hand, tilted your head up. He observed you so closely you could smell his toothpaste. Mint. Your apartment was cold, but with him hovering so close, you felt warm. He lowered his head, his lips brushing against your cheek and his nose on your temple.

“You’ve had a long day today, didn’t you? Work and then having to meet those awful people.” His voice was patronizing, almost like baby talk. You could only whisper a yes “Let me take your mind off it, baby girl. Let me fuck your brains out.”

You fought the urge to try and hold onto something and answered with a ‘uh huh’.

Still holding your jaw, Ransom pulled his body from yours. It was so cold, so sudden. “You know how this goes. Use your words.”

“Please, Daddy – I want you to fuck my brains out.”

Ransom smiled his heart-stopping smile, and his hand slid to your throat. He felt down your body with his thumb, first to the hollow spot in your neck, then your nipple. His other hand found your lower back just before you slid down to the ground.

His fingers trailed down your stomach with deliberate slowness. A tremor ran up your body when he reached your vulva, and you gasped as he parted your lips with his ring and index finger, using the middle digit to touch you just where you wanted most. You gasped as he found your clit.

When you took the phone call you’d expected to be met with the voice of one of your company’s client, so you didn’t even look at the caller ID as you picked it up.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Asked Ransom’s voice on the other end of the line. He’d called at the worst possible time too, while you were carrying a cardboard cup holder with your drink and a poorly balanced bagel, navigating a crowded coffee shop.

“Can you not? You know I have a nine to five job.”

“Aren’t you supposed to get a lunch break?” He sounded grossed out by the expression. It was just as likely he thought the idea that having a single, predetermined hour for lunch was offensive as he found the idea of free time for the working class ridiculous.

“I am on my lunch break, but I have to keep my phone free. You know, for clients?”

“I’m spending Thanksgiving at Harlan’s,” he ignored you “come over, I could use a plus one.”

“I can’t,” you said “I always spend Thanksgiving with my family.”

“Just ditch them.”

“No,” you said. You had always had trouble denying him, but not this time. This was the one childhood tradition you still upheld, and it meant a lot to your parents “I always spend Thanksgiving with my family. I’m not convincing them to reschedule for your convenience.”

He was silent for a moment “Great. Guess I’ll die of boredom.”

“I’m sure you’ll find ways to keep entertained.” You smiled; you wished you could kick yourself.

“Where do your parents live?”

You shook your head as if he could see you “We’re staying at my brother’s. He and his wife live in Albany.”

“That’s not far.”

Oh, no. You knew that tone.

“No. Why does it matter?” You asked, sure he would’ve heard the doubt in your voice.

“You could still make it to both parties.”

You wished you had a free hand to rub your temple; you could sense a headache coming. You were making your way to the entrance, but you had to stop to lean on one of the bar tables stacked with sugar packets and disposable spoons because his plan was literally too stupid to stand. “Ransom, I’m not going to go to your grandfather’s house then drive in the middle of night to fucking Albany.”

He sighed. “You’re going to start showing at some point. I’d like to squeeze in a few more meetings with my family before breaking the news.”

That was fair, you supposed. It still wasn’t like you were going to try making it for two dinners in different states in a single night.

“Well… I can’t make it to Thanksgiving.” Now recovered, you gathered your things and started making your way to the entrance again “If I gotta meet your family to keep up appearances, don’t you think it would be fair if you did the same for me?”

“Oh?” He was grinning, you could tell “What’s in it for me?”

Seriously, this jackass...

You held the phone in between your shoulders and cheek to reach for the door handle. “Ransom, you’re not-” your words ended in a yelp when someone bumped into you. It wasn’t just any bump – no, no, that would’ve been too lucky. The stranger practically barreled into you, sending your lunch and phone hurling into the air. Some of your drink conveniently landed on your white shirt before spilling on the ground.

“Oh, I am terribly sorry, miss!” Said the man who had rammed into you as he bent over to pick up your phone.  “I am more distracted than a hound dog in a perfumery! Oh- Drat!”

He rose and you were met with strikingly blue eyes.

“Your phone’s screen didn’t happen to be already cracked, did it?” He said, extending your cellphone back to you. His southern drawl was so melodious it took you a moment to catch onto his implication.

“Not really.” You said as you took your device from him. Just as he’d said, the screen was cracked.

“Oh, lord-” He brought a hand to his graying hair. “Again, I am so sorry-” he then signaled to the barista that had come over to clean up the mess “Excuse me – I’ve knocked this poor woman’s lunch on accident. Would it be possible to get her another drink?”

The worker seemed embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I gotta ask my manager...”

“Oh, no, please, don’t bother” The man waved his hand by the side of his head “If it’s a matter of money, I’ll pay for it. I’m sorry again, miss – what did you have?”

You found yourself blurting out your order before you could think too hard about it.

“Yes – and please, throw in a muffin in with the order; please can keep the change.” The man produced a wallet from his coat and pulled a fifty dollar note from it, handing it to the barista, who accepted the money with some confusion. “Thank you very much.”

You were still unsure of what to do, so you remained rooted in place while the man ran up to the counter, got you several napkins and ran back to hand them to you. You considered the possibility that he was trying to flirt with you, but if it were the case he at least wasn’t using the opportunity to dab at your wet shirt with paper towels.

[swiftythewriter]

so, i’m supposed to be studying and def not be on social media rn but i am legit tearing up about Martha Jones and what she means to me as a character that i’m just going to try and to write this out so i can hopefully focus

to get one thing straight, Martha Jones is not my favorite character. i started watching DW when I was about twelve and tbh, for years after that i never really connected with her. it’s not too surprising since in terms of background, personality, and life experience (because, come on, i’m a lily white, only child shut in from the deep south) we had next to nothing in common. 

but.

out of all the characters that have been on the show, Martha Jones is solidly the one I want to live up to the most. 

maybe the reasons why are obvious, but they didn’t really crystallize to me till just now. the main one, for me, is that through out her arc her happiness did not depend on another person. even within her arc where she faced the consequences of her unrequited feelings, she still had this noticeable trait before she even said it out loud.

to go and break it down further, i believe there are several aspects to her personality that are important contributors in this: dedication, responsibility, and strong sense of self worth

dedication: this one seems pretty obvious, since when we are first introduced to Martha we are shown her position as a med student in her last year of residency. everyone with passing knowledge of what it takes to be a doctor knows this isn’t for the faint of heart. knowing just that we can already infer that she’s studious, hard working, and intelligent.

but it goes beyond that, as is continually shown throughout her arc. she becomes know as the “Woman Who Walked the Earth”, a title she got by literally walking around the earth for a year in an apocalyptic hellscape and never once wavering in completing in her mission. she didn’t just join but rose through the ranks of UNIT to the point where she was trusted with the Osterhagen key-quite literally the most important responsibility given to any single person at that point in human history.

and if we are talking about less dramatic examples, kindly take a look where Martha spent months undercover in an incredibly racist time period with absolutely no support despite there being actually no reason beyond Ten needing his little moral moment and yet not only managed to keep her spirits, but also is directly responsible for the Doctor’s plan not being any more of a clusterfuck than it already was. same story with “Blink”, where they both got trapped in the sixties and Martha once more had to stand up and handle things behind the scenes.

next, responsibility: this ties in really well with dedication and it can go double for all the things i listed above. the reason i think this is, is that as a result of her dedication and moral code, Martha tends to take on the problems set before her to the best of her abilities because she sees it as the right thing to do.  

but what i really want to look at is Martha’s sense of emotional responsibility, as in not the actions she takes but why she takes them. i feel like this is best seen in how she acts towards her family and is what really sets her apart from the other companions in the series. 

because you know what she does? she stays. her family needs her.

and here’s the ringer because name one character, one, since her that makes an active effort to maintain their relationships with their families when the Doctor comes to play. i can’t. really, i can’t

Donna? doesn’t count. she might love her family but when push comes to shove she was willing to die with the Doctor-or more accurately for who she became with the Doctor, than to live her life with them.

Rose? don’t make me laugh. she loves her mother to death, but not enough to choose her first.

Jack? no family to speak of at that point, but look how fast he leaves his friends at the very hint of the Doctor coming back into his life. yes, he has his immortality based reasons but there’s nothing about their scenes that doesn’t scream emotional.

Amy and Rory? i can count on one hand how many times the topic of relatives has come up for Amy and it still leaves me a finger left over for Rory. despite magically getting her parents back in her life she seems awfully unconcerned with their general existence. 

i’m also not entirely sure Rory has parents-or even connections, beyond his dad. he might have just sprung up in a field somewhere, and we’d never know. hey, maybe Amy wished him into existence a bit earlier than we all thought.

Clara? i’m almost certain she has parents. almost. like, she had an entire holiday dinner?? i’m pretty sure she mentioned her dad at some point?? but beyond the meet cute of how her parents got together, zilch. nada. she might as well have been an orphan.

Bill? okay she was actually an orphan but i don’t think she actually mentioned or contacted her foster mother after she moved out. not sure this counts tho. the Doctor was dading too hard to say she had no parents.

i admit the newest companions kind of break the mold but I still say it counts since the only familial connection Ryan and Graham try to maintain to between each other and while Yaz might be close to her family her life with the Doctor seems to be taking priority over both her career and how much she spends time connecting with her family.

honestly the only one that even comes close to subverting the pattern is Mickey and the only reason he doesn’t properly is because he didn’t have any living family before going to Pete’s world.

but even in the beginning Martha spends time actively maintaining her relationships with her family members. again, in her first episode we see her playing mediator for her family, and going on we see her doing her best to support her sister, be a good daughter to her mother, and keep her family connected through sheer will power at times. sure, the other companions have shown the appropriate concern when there’s threat to their loved ones lives, but Martha again subverts the mold when it becomes clear that she’s not willing to let them go. 

so, back to responsibility. 

you tie this with her morals and you get the result of a doctor that gives her last breaths to keep another person alive. 

you tie this with her dedication and you get the kind of person who will walk to the ends of the earth if she deems the cause good enough. 

and finally, if you tie this with her emotional connections, you have the kind of person that takes the hard, messy work of tying together a somewhat dysfunctional family with her bare hands.

so now we’ve reached a strong sense of self worth: this i think is present in all of her decisions in the show. like, her entire story arc as a companion was ended on the note that she discovered her self worth and that she shouldn’t made to be feeling like she’s second fiddle. but, again, i feel like this is shown clearly throughout her story line even if she didn’t consciously recognize it. 

the most obvious example i see on this kind of contrasts with the above one, and it is that Martha leaves. She chooses to go with the Doctor and see what’s out there. It’s not a decision her mother and perhaps the rest of her family would or does approve of and she still makes it.

she also, having taken the not so metaphorical leap of faith, chooses to pursue the Doctor romantically. that is something that i did not appreciate as a kid but respect the hell out of now. the sheer self confidence that it takes to not only approach your crush but pick yourself up after they don’t notice time and time again is absolutely incredible. we stan an absolute legend.

but back to my point, it would’ve been incredibly easy for Martha’s character to have been introduced as the stereotype of one of those people who go into medschool due to parental pressure. it could’ve even been supported by her background with her family and future character arc of discovering her worth.  but all those assertions evaporate the second she comes on screen. 

Why? Self worth. 

The concept that Martha could be pressured into her path in life is laughable. She perused medicine because she wanted to. It’s her passion. She didn’t have to say it out loud to be clear in her actions. 

Her family’s wants and opinions might have some weight because she respects them, but ultimately she doesn’t need their approval to make herself happy. Her teachers, peers and assumed friends at her school also had the same affect. 

Martha Jones went with the Doctor because she wanted to, and she stayed because she wanted to as well. Her choices are made to be the most fulfilling to herself. Yes, they are motivated by her responsibilities and dedication to see them through, but that is it-motivated. She does not need to live up to to the things people need from her to have fulfillment. 

See the choices she made after she left the Doctor if you want any indication. She enlisted in UNIT because she realized she could do more for the world than just be a doctor, and she decided she wanted to. She got into and out of an engagement because she was in touch with what made her happy and what didn’t. The choices she made during her time with UNIT were ones that she made not because the Doctor would approve-since she knew he wouldn’t, but were ones she reasoned were the best options forward. 

And finally, when Martha decided after the near end she didn’t want to be with UNIT anymore, she left and went to find something that she wanted to do more. 

i once read an excellent post that made the point that unlike other companions, Martha Jones never needed the Doctor, and it was absolutely right. In the end of the day, Martha Jones never needed anything but her own to hands to go and make the world a better place.

And you know what? At that, she is good.