really love how throughout a lot of smith and jones martha is really skeptical and apprehensive towards ten (+ one of my favorite exchanges between them - "what, people call you 'the doctor'?" "yeah?" "well, i'm not. far as i'm concerned, you've got to earn that title."), not taking everything he says at face value, even doubting the fact he's an alien until over halfway through the episode.. And like. i really truly think the thing that wins her over isn't him kissing her or any of the other insane mixed messages he manages to send, it's this scene here, where he /earns that title/ in her eyes:
(+ david's bit in the commentary, where he says: "[the doctor] has actually sacrificed himself, and - i would say, that that final act of selflessness is what finally, eventually, welds martha to him. [...] and she now returns it. she returns that act of selflessness.")
this is what their relationship is built on. it isn't about martha being the second-best replacement to rose or a rebound or whatever. bc it isn't really about rose. it's about doctor-in-training martha meeting someone (quite literally, "the doctor") whose ideals she aspires to, and doing her best to be the same person to him as he is to everyone else. it's about ten in return admiring her intelligence and inquisitiveness and how she cares for human life, recovering his compassion, letting himself lean on her for support - and then remembering at the most inopportune moments that he's supposed to not need anyone and be on his own forever. And around in their little nightmare loop they go where they save each other over and over until one of them breaks
i've seen ppl look at martha and go "why she does she admire/why is she so in love with ten if he acts like that to her?" or something along those lines and like. it's not just the fact she's in love with him (in fact i'd argue she actively tries to push it aside post-gridlock). it's the fact that she knows he's the kind of person to put everyone else's lives/well-being over his own. she trusts him to save her when she's in trouble even though it's been like two days at most that they've known one another bc she recognizes that same "deep all-encompassing drive to help others" in him. and she also recognizes, much much earlier than him, that he needs someone to save him, especially when he's unwilling to save himself. and yeah for a bit she thinks he returns her feelings and is just playing hard-to-get, but she realizes pretty early on that this probably isn't the case, and i think that realization fully solidifies here:
(this is when she's listening to ten talk abt gallifrey). And idk it might just be me but i think this expression isn't just her empathizing with his loss. it's also guilt, for wanting something from him that he's clearly unable to give when he's wracked with so much grief. (and you see it in the next episode, where tallulah asks if they're together and martha says for certain that they're not, and that he doesn't know about her feelings for him. she keeps everything to herself bc she now knows that when he shut her flirting down at the end of 3x01 it was the genuine reaction of someone who a) isn't interested and b) is scared of getting close with someone else again)
freema described their dynamic as "she's keener than him" and i think about this all the time. martha doesn't really take what ten throws at her. what she does instead is constantly poke holes in his already-failing front of "i will show someone the wonders of the universe so i can ignore what is wrong with me". what she does is stand up and fight him when he tries to go off on his own. what she does is put aside her well-being in favor of helping someone - just like what she saw him do for the people in the hospital when they first met. tldr, that's the doctor and his doctor and rip martha you would've loved who's gonna save u now by rina sawayama
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Proposal AU
Thena takes care of a very exhausted Gil!
Something sweet and soft 🤭
Gil groaned, trying to turn his face away from the light.
"It's almost over."
He blinked, finding his nose buried in a head of blonde brighter than sunshine. He could have just nestled in further, which was damn tempting of course. But he groaned, adjusting in the...hammock?
"You know, you're actually quite lucky," Thena continued in a whisper. Her fingers ran through his hair. "Had I not joined you here, I'm sure your mother or sisters would have no trouble awakening you for what is actually our own party. But with me in here as well, everyone thinks we're too wrapped up in pre-marital snuggling to bother you."
"You're doing an awful lot of talking for someone determined to let me sleep."
She gave his cheek a poke. "I know very well you're awake. You stopped snoring."
"I do not snore," he grumbled, moving his head so she could pull away and look at him. He pouted.
"You snore a little," she broke it to him gently at least, poking his lip back into place. "But I'll forgive you because you're so exhausted."
He yawned completely reflexively, but he at least pressed it into the shoulder of her cardigan. "How long?"
"A couple of hours."
That scared him. He jolted, not that it did much in their hanging basket arrangement. "No."
Thena nodded, though, confirming the statement that had sent fear shooting through him. "Just over two hours, assuming I found you relatively close to when you fell asleep."
"Thena, no," he groaned again, attempting to drown himself in the fabric suspending them off the ground. "No, no, no--my mom worked her ass off for this party, I can't have been asleep for that long."
"Sh," Thena hushed him from those soft lips again. She was being awfully tender with him. "I told her that I was the one who lulled you into sleep. If anyone is to blame, it's me."
He whimpered, though. "I'm a bad son."
"On the contrary," she had the nerve to laugh at him when he was upset. "You are the son who cooked every morsel of food at this party. If you happened to spend most of it in a hammock with your own fiance, I can't imagine she would have anything to say about it."
Well, she had a point. He did cook all of the food. And Ajak was always telling him to try and relax - with Thena - more. He sighed again, unfolding his arms from around himself and resting one over the curve of Thena's waist. "Guess I can't argue with that."
"You haven't missed much," she informed him. "Ajak announced how pleased she was for us."
Gil snorted, pulling Thena closer to him as a breeze rocked the hammock faintly. "That wasn't what she said when I first told her. Nearly took my ear off demanding to know why I hadn't said anything until now."
"You have a lovely family, Gil."
He opened his eyes again to look at the woman in the hammock with him. Some of their relatives had arrived early for this party. They were distant, some more family friends than anything. But it was certainly an escalation to their little lie. They were having to do couple-y things more often. A 'love you' here, a 'missed you' there. A brush of his hand over her shoulder--that kind of thing. He smiled, "are you actually in here avoiding them?"
Thena didn't deny it, which was basically a confirmation. She slid her hands up his chest and nestled her head closer again, approaching a position to tuck it under his chin. "Your mother knows a staggering number of people."
Gil chuckled, tucking her against him so she wouldn't have to close the gap herself. She happily accepted his invitation, practically settling into him like a cat in a sunbeam. "Sorry I left you to handle them all yourself."
"I gave up rather quickly," she lamented. "Said I had to find you to ask you something for the wedding. It worked to help me avoid anyone for nigh on half an hour."
"We're both bad hosts."
"Indeed," Thena agreed, not seeming all that upset about it. She sighed, her hot breath hitting his throat. "I'll apologise to your mother later."
"I'm pretty sure you can do no wrong in her eyes," he assured her. He had just had a pretty solid nap, but it was way too comfortable to continue lying there with Thena to even think about trying to roll out of the swaying hammock. "You'll be her first daughter-in-law. To her only son, no less. An eldest son I'm pretty sure she was getting worried wouldn't be settling down at all."
"Hm."
"Hey," he called to her before she could slide down that slippery slope of regret. He rubbed small circles in her back, "don't worry about it."
She didn't say anything else, but one of her hands slipped around his side and to his back, clutching a fistful of his shirt. She pressed her face into his shoulder.
He sighed, ready to settle into sleep again, feeling the familiar position of Thena cuddled up to him. He was nearly there when he heard a grating voice getting closer and closer.
"Yoohoo!--lovebirds?"
Gil kept his eyes closed, not in the mood for his showboat cousin who probably wanted to make some dramatic speech about them or drag him up in front of everyone.
"Gil, mom's lookin' for you!"
Thena stirred but he cradled the back of her head with his hand and held the small of her back. "It's a trap."
She puffed out some air at his joke before whispering, "diabolical."
"Very," he whispered back, eyes still closed.
"Here they-oh!"
Gil resisted the urge to tell his brother - in every way that mattered - to fuck off and not wake his fiance. He held Thena firmly, determined to appear asleep.
"It's so sweet!"
"Let them rest, you two--Makkari, put the stick down!"
His youngest sister was no doubt about to poke him in the face with it. His sweet and elegant mother had raised a bunch of animals.
He only cracked his eyes open when he heard them padding away, complaining why he got to skip out on the party duties, like entertaining guests and cleaning up as things started coming to a close.
"We can't sleep in here all night, you know."
"Why not?" he grinned, immediately pulled back into the little world that was the high sides of the hammock bending around his weight. "It's comfy."
"I would hardly call this lumbar support," she argued, although he was pretty sure she wasn't that far from dozing off herself. "And what if it rains?"
"We're in the trees, it's fine," he laughed. They weren't exactly in the depths of the wooded area surrounding the house, but they were away from everything else enough that they weren't the easiest to find in here.
"Gil," she scolded, but made no attempt to get up, or even separate herself from him.
"Mom wouldn't let that happen," he reassured, although it made her go quiet again. "Fine, just a few more minutes."
"Five, not a second more."
"Deal," he smiled. She sounded like she did when they were at work. It felt so far away, they'd been here so long. Not that they didn't deserve the break. And Thena had even more paid time off than he did. He was pretty sure she never took a day off.
Unless she was sick. In which case he would rush home from work and cook up his most healing chicken soup and noodles for her.
Thena didn't stir as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. If anything, she nestled closer to him, "five minutes."
"Five minutes," he repeated, moving his lips down her cheek, closer to her lips. He didn't close the distance quite yet, but Thena didn't pull herself away either. And he didn't need the next five minutes to make his decision.
It was chaste, just the barest brushing of lips against lips. It was like a peck. Thena didn't make any sudden moves or any sounds at all. Only she could lie perfectly still and straight postured in a hammock. "Was that your attempt at bartering?"
He grinned, their heads still too close to really see each other, breath mixing and lips twitching to meet again. "Depends if it worked."
"No."
"Fine," he conceded, moving his hands to her cheeks. He gave her another little peck before she tucked herself into the crook of his neck again. This was just another couple-y thing to add to the list, apparently. Not that he minded.
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hi 🫶🏼 what a weekend to be a carlos sainz fan! so incredibly happy about everything because he deserves it. I am happy you are accepting request for the man of the weekend so I would like to request this:
carlos is starting to feel the pressure of the weekend with winning pole and being on the edge of winning his first race that he is starting to doubt about his abilities and himself, so he asks to put the reader through the radio so he can listen to her voice and words of encouragement.
I hope its not that cheesy lmao. truly throttled book vibes but I would like to read something like this with carlos. thank you!!!!!! 🫶🏼 ps: can’t wait for a flat spin update hihihi. happy sunday!
WHAT A WEEKEND RIGHT? Will I ever recover from this? Probably not. In my books he deserves the WORLD
Warnings: wee bit angsty, but then we get to the good stuff
I have not read throttled yet simply bc i cannot find a cheap copy anywhere and it's so high on my reading list its making me sad. BUT THIS is such a good concept. If you didn't enjoy the level of drama in the last 20 laps I'm sorry but you're gonna have to go through it again
Carlos was panicking.
He felt the furthest thing from calm and in control, he had the whole weekend. And that was saying something, given his accidental pole (okay, it wasn't an accident but Carlos really did think that lap was nothing special, and he was still reeling from the shock of hearing that "P1" down the radio) and then the mess that had been the race so far.
It hadn't started great, and not that Carlos ever enjoyed red flags like that, not when he spent most of the time in the pits feeling silently sick in his worry for his fellow driver's health, but he was grateful it had happened early enough to allow him a restart from his pole. That meant he hadn't lost to Max straight away. Carlos always said he was fighting for the win, but he knew that when it came to raw speed the Ferrari typically paled in comparison to the Red Bull, but still, it would have been embarrassing to have had the lead snatched from him in the first corner.
So he got his restart, and that went well. He kept his lead for a few laps and was settling into his race proper, feeling like he was handling the pressure from Max behind him well until he found himself off track and Max was in front of him. And okay it wasn't ideal but it was fine, but there were still the pit stops and if he could stay within DRS- and then Max was slowing down and he was back in the lead and he couldn't quite believe his luck.
And it had been going so well until Charles came on the radio saying he was better and faster and Carlos knew he wasn't entirely wrong. He liked the car best on soft tyres and the mediums hadn't felt great but after his swap to hards, he felt like he was driving on ice. So forgive him for doing his best to keep his lead by not throwing the car into a barrier. He didn't have time to register the team orders until he'd already slowed and Charles was past him, streaking off into the distance and leaving nothing but a bitter taste in Carlos' mouth.
And then he was in P3, and that shiny trophy with a number one on it was slipping further and further from his view and Carlos found himself driving with nothing but despair and hopeless desperation pushing him on. He figured the faster he could get it over with the better; the sooner he could be at the hotel with you, and you would stroke his hair and hold him close and tell him all the nice things he didn't think he deserved to hear when he couldn't bear to even look at the smaller awards he'd been bringing home recently.
The yellow flag felt like a golden ticket. Especially when he found himself pitting ahead of Hamilton, and finally he was on soft tyres and the car was snapping up into his hands the way he liked it and that fire was back and Carlos felt ready to charge.
"When the green flag comes, let Charles go. We need you at least 10 car paces behind him to hold them off,"
Hold them off? Carlos felt himself spiralling. Why did they give him the soft tyres to offer him up like a sacrificial lamb for slaughter? This wasn't Monaco - he couldn't block the whole road. If he hung back to try and give Charles the lead he'd be eaten alive, there was no way he could keep the one-two podium hopes up. Hamilton and Perez were already too close for comfort, jostling in his mirrors, and behind that, he'd noticed Alonso sneaking into the mix.
Carlos wasn't above begging. He didn't like how his voice was cracking, but there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't like how he was suddenly struggling with his English, it made him sound dumb when he was trying to outsmart his strategist. He couldn't lose the win - not like this. Not on shitty team orders that didn't have a hope of working. It wasn't even a case of pride, he'd argue, it was just wrong. It wasn't racing.
"I need-" there was only a lap left under the safety car. "Guys c'mon,"
"Ten car lengths, no more between you,"
"I want to talk to Y/N,"
"Carlos-"
"I have a lap of safety car left,"
Carlos had no idea what he was doing. He was frightened, his mind racing and his chest was tightening. He was suddenly aware of every ache in his body, how tired he was. The only thing he could picture was you, he had to talk to you. He felt very much like a child in a go-kart, who didn't understand why he wasn't allowed to just take the win being offered up to him.
"Carlos? It's Y/N," you sounded different on the radio, but it was you. Already he was breathing easier. Your voice was warm, tinged with concern but not worry. You were steady, calm. You were an anchor in this mess.
"Amor," he breathed, not caring who this was being broadcasted to.
"Hi," you softened at the nickname. He could imagine the way your eyes shone and your smile relaxed and you would lean into him as you relaxed. He felt himself responding reflexly.
"Tell me not to do it," he sounded desperate, but he didn't care. "You say follow orders, and I'll lose. No questions. You tell me to fight, then I go,"
"Carlos-"
"I don't have time. I don't know what it looks like outside. But I can't lose because I'm told to, not unless you trust them. You trust - you tell me to listen, then I lose for you,"
"They're telling me to tell you safety car is ending in 30 seconds,"
"Tell me what to do!" He cried. He didn't mean to sound snappy, but there was no time to think, and all Carlos needed in that moment was your opinion. He trusted you more than anyone, even if you weren't a strategist, you would never let him suffer for nothing. You were smart and that was enough. He saw the ten-second warning.
"Y/N!"
"Win for me,"
It was all he needed to hear. Charles shot forward in front of him and without giving a moment's hesitation, Carlos hit the throttle too. He didn't care how much trouble he would be in later with the team, he was a new man. With the soft tyres playing into his driving style exactly as he needed them to and your voice ringing in his ears, the fire in his belly rose back from the ashes and the only thing that mattered was crossing that line first.
It was almost too easy to take Charles. He could hear a radio complaint, but he didn't care. There was no way Charles could hold the lead on used hard tyres and with the damaged wing, Carlos could. Charles could at least try to fight for a second.
He felt fast too, finally felt good.
When he saw the flag he thought it was a dream. His engineer gave a curt well done, but Carlos didn't care. He was feeling so many things he didn't feel anything at all. And then you were back, screaming, down the radio at him and Carlos was grinning and shouting back because he won.
"For you!" He managed, voice thick and eyes wet as everything sank in all at once. "I won for you!"
"I love you!"
Carlos almost crashed the car. You'd been together for the best part of a year now, but between long-distance stints and the steady start, you'd not said it out loud to each other yet.
"I love you too!" He heard you let out a small sob down the radio, and somewhere in the back of his mind the thought about how much the Netflix team would love this.
He thought he was floating on the podium. He couldn't contain his grin, and the sight of you right at the front of the barrier, in his Ferrari jumper and flushed, tear-stained cheeks was enough to keep the look he'd gotten from Mattia as he clapped him on the shoulder on his way to the cool-down room at the back of his mind.
Besides, he had a few ideas of how he could avoid the team meeting for a little bit longer and most of them involved you, more champagne and his driver's room where the door woud lock.
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