Also have a weird cruddy 10/Simm doodle.
It is no secret that I’m not terribly good at drawing males. I did a little practice, and well, it turned into 10/Simm. Whoops.
Well at least the Doctor looks happy about it.
Some cute 10/Simm before I sleep.
I accidentally drew it so that I can’t really tell who’s holding who, but I’m glad it worked that way. It seems fitting.
Drawing my OTP being canonically fucked up from the present back to the past… even the non-canon versions of it… but shh, the Shalka couple is canon in my head and I do what I want
Still drawing my OTP in canonical fucked up situations. Because letting yourself die by falling into a black hole is obviously better than to just take an offered hand.
IF HE HAD JUST FUCKING SAID “TAKE MY HAND”
oh wow now I’m drowning in feels help
OK I DID IT OK NO REGRETS
NOW I WANT TO WRITE MORE SEVEN/CHEETAH!MASTER
“You’re a genius. You’re stone cold brilliant, you are, I swear, you really are. But you could be so much more. You could be beautiful. With a mind like that, we could travel the stars. It would be my honour. Because you don’t need to own the universe, just see it. Have the privilege of seeing the whole of time and space. That’s ownership enough.”
For rude-and-notginger, who asked for Theta and Koschei with wings ^^
I’m in the ‘oh, lets draw my OTP being canonically fucked up’ kind of bad mood…. -.- I think I might sketch those things in reverse order, next would be Eight and Roberts…
“The sky’s a bright orange with a citadel enclosed in a mighty glass dome shining under the twin suns. Beyond that the mountains go on forever; Slopes of deep red grass capped with snow.”
-The 10th Doctor
A tangle of limbs, that’s what they were. At the bottom of their mountain of red capped in white. The suns were setting, casting long shadows everywhere, on either side. They didn’t move, aside from the occasional giggle and breathing, of course.
“Would you say I’m lucky?” His voice picked up after a few moments of soft winds. His words were met with a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. He smiled softly at the reply, satisfied enough with that alone.
His smaller companion tugged on his black, hooded sweatshirt and pressed his face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around the smaller body and they just continued to lay there, happy to be in each other’s presence alone.
“Do you know how much I love this place?” The older asked, looking at the distance city. His hand found its way to the smaller’s hair and entangled itself there.
“You don’t love this place,” his companion said softly. He laughed softly and pushed the elder down.
Their lips brushed together and soon they were locked in a passionate kiss.
“You hate Gallifrey,” the smaller continued when they had separated; he flushed as he realized his position under his elder.
“I hate it?” The older boy said with a kicked puppy-dog expression.
“Well look who’s flustered.” He interrupted, kissing his companion again, effectively dismissing the conversation.
“I love you…” he whispered to the smaller man sweetly, “and that’s all that really matters.”
Because this appeared on my dash at the most appropriate moment ever
Is it right to admire the Master for that last sentence?
Oh Master. Three is so unimpressed with you right now.