Because everyone who sees this perfect fanart should have an easy link to go check out the fanfic:
The girl who didn't have to wait on ao3
by RaggedyDoctor (LunaLovegood2417)
Summary:
The Doctor never interferes in the affairs of other peoples or planets unless there's children crying. Amy Pond is crying.
~OR~
ElevenRose accidental child acquisition. Interfering TARDIS fic. Amy bites several people. The TARDIS approves.
1- @Bluewmist on Twitter / 2- Roly Poly is Taken on Twitter / 3- About Time (2012) by Richard Curtis, image from Mita Park on Unsplash / 4- Sherri Turner on Twitter / 5- Cold Solace by Anna Belle Kaufman / 6- The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green
Eridians dont know about time relativity and people are NOT talking about it enough
imagine sending a person on a dangerous mission like 70 years ago and when they finally come back and they look like they only aged 10 of those years and tell you "oh yeah time just works different there" when you have no concept of that that is INSANE
rocky explaining radiation to eridian scientists (already insane concept) and going "oh yeah btw time works differently in space" "what" "time works differently in space. what we thought would be a 16 years trip was only a 4 year trip for me, the solarians call it something like time-depending-of-position-in-space, is pretty trippy" "....WHAT"
timeline where rose saves everyone but the doctor doesn't save her. where the doctor takes the energy out of rose and it still kills her anyway, where she was dead before he ever had a hope to save her, and bad wolf was just her last acts, what was left over. and he stills regenerates because he didn't know.
and then the doctor's reborn, regenerated, shaped for rose. he's everything he wanted to be, hoped to be, for rose. he's for rose. and rose's cooling corpse is laid on the ground, face still stained with golden tear tracks, bright and beautiful and otherworldly, almost resembling the glow of a regeneration that's never to work, because rose isn't like him, her body not built like his, not for any single piece of what's just happened. but the doctor's made himself for her. who would he become without her, how could he even be without her?
so he scoops her body and just clings to her tight. not a goodbye, because he missed his chance when he took her life without even realizing what he was doing, when he sent her away with a trick, but still a finality. but then... but then, still reeling from the excess energy between the regeneration and bad wolf, thoughts a scrambled mess like radio signals interrupting each other or cars crashing into each other one after another, the doctor has an idea.
what would he be, without rose? nothing. not him. not this him. he can't part from her. he can't... what's he to do with her body, anyway? leave her? like. jack. and with the ashes. well, that's not happening, obviously.
so clinging turns to holding turns to carrying her body deeper into his ship, ignoring the sparkings in his head and the wary tolls of the tardis, keeping himself grounded and focused with the weight of her in his new arms. first door he comes across, he pulls her room forward, though the tardis whines even as she does what he asks of her, and there rose's room is. loud and pink and just an utter mess. so wonderfully her. he doesn't touch anything. couldn't, really, with her taking up both his hands now. all he does is gently begin to lower the-body-left-behind-of rose onto her bed, like he's simply found her asleep out and about around the tardis, and is trying not to wake her up, lest she start whinging at him about letting her rest once in a while, would he.
his body spasms in pain, and he cringes when automatically he lets go of her. she crashes down, bouncing once like she'd purposefully fallen back into her bed, before her head lolls to the side, limp. she doesn't wake up like he was irrationally expecting her to. he wonders how much of his sudden nausea is from rose and how much is just the poor regeneration.
forcing tremoring hands to work, he fixes her. not like it matters, but. oh, rose would be so annoyed if he'd left her like that, wouldn't she? so he arranges her more carefully, more comfortably. more rose-like.
she still looks dead. but in the moment, in his burning brain, she's still just his precious companion.
there's lots of things a tardis can do, both inside and out. powerful, they are. putting a room in stasis, holding it, like in a memory, a roster of everything that's ever been, but still there if he wishes for them, is a personal favourite of his.
he doesn't visit earth, powell estate, 2006, christmas eve. he doesn't even think about jackie and mickey and the rest of it all. he doesn't think of rose. he just goes. and he forgets what he's done, because. well. it's hard to focus on much of anything when his body sort of feels like it's dying even when he knows he's still healing. it's even harder when he topples to the floor of the tardis on a random planet in a galaxy he's not even sure of, and doesn't get back up again for a while.
time passes. and he continues to forget, because there's some strange part of him that's soothed even when he feels the void of her missing beside him, and he doesn't bother to look closely enough as to why he feels that way.
it's in the middle of an adventure, because of course it is, when he suddenly remembers rose, who's still on the tardis. when he remembers what his immediate post-regeneration self did with her. he blanches and trips and doesn't get himself captured or killed, but it's a very near thing.
when he's back and safe on his ship, he doesn't visit her. he doesn't. not so directly. but he does stand outside her door, deep into the winding halls of the tardis, and stares at it. because... it's not right, what he did. he knows that, now. rose shouldn't be with. him. here. like that. but. at the same time, where else would rose possibly wish to be? she chose him. she came back to him, to the tardis, to his life. and it killed her. but she...
he doesn't think he could stand the sight of her dead. a body. his memory during his regeneration is fuzzy and confusing in a way time lords are not typically like, and he rather likes his last clear picture of her. golden. and lovingly human, in her power.
so he doesn't open the door. but he doesn't stop the way his head leans down to bump against it, either, and he doesn't stop himself from curling his voice around her name, a whisper and a whine. lets himself indulge for the first, and probably the last, time in this body, while he's still here, and there, with her.
and then he leaves her. in the tardis, right between his hearts, shielded and hidden away from everyone, even himself. because the doctor is selfish, in love. and this doctor was made for rose. who is he even without her?
The Odyssey but retold as a low-stakes modern adventure of one guy out with his girlfriend leaving the bar with his buddies to do just one (1) simple thing real quick, it'll take like 15 minutes tops, he'll be right back, but then some bullshit happens and the trip keeps getting more complicated as more bullshit keeps happening while he just tries to get back to the bar because he promised his girlfriend that he'd get back and he knows that she's still there because she told him she'd wait there.
And by the time he finally gets back it's almost 3 am and the bar is about to close while she's sitting there stone cold sober, surrounded by 5 drunk guys unsuccessfully trying to convince her to give up on waiting for him and go home with one of them instead. And the guy shows up to proceed to beat the shit out of them before explaining himself to her like hey sorry bullshit kept happening, my phone fell into a storm drain and my wallet got stolen when I was trying to find someone who'd borrow me a phone so I could call and
His girlfriend had been fending off the 5 drunk guys for most of the evening by explaining that even if she was going to ditch her boyfriend, she can't possibly leave without finishing her beer, which she is keeping perpetually full via careful sleight of hand where she's just pouring it back and forth into and out of the pitcher.
However the drunk guys are also drinking, and eventually she can't afford to buy another pitcher for the table so she can't keep up the ever-full beer glass trick. At this point she has to resort to setting up the pool trick shot that she's never seen anyone but her boyfriend pull off, and says she'll leave with whoever manages the shot first.
That buys her another hour or so and then, finally, her boyfriend makes it back. He looks like shit, hair down and just a mess, he's wearing an entirely different jacket that he got from an alley, and barely recognizable—especially to 5 guys who've been drunk for hours now. He lurks for a minute, finds out what's going on, and proceeds to pull off the trick shot first try. Throws the jacket off, fixes his hair with a hair tie his girlfriend lends him, finally looks like himself again, and THEN beats the shit out of them with the pool cue.
do y’all remember before direct messages tumblr had a dumbass ask limit of 10 per hour and communication was impossible until they introduced dumbass fan mail and we were basically sending telegraphs back in forth trying to communicate those were…dark times
Do y'all remember when they finally gave us direct messages and instead of doing it normally, they gave it to a few people at a time and we had to infect each other with it like a virus
remember when any post with more than like 6 people talking was unreadably smushed except for the last few additions remember when any post of over 500 characters became a link back to op’s blog readmore style remember when video and audio posts had about a 10% chance of working when you click play
