Andulka
One Nice Bug Per Day
Cosmic Funnies
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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todays bird
sheepfilms
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NASA
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Janaina Medeiros
PR's Tumblrdome
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DEAR READER
hello vonnie
Product Placement
styofa doing anything
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blake kathryn
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@bonyrascal
so instead of doing anything, i slept for like a day and a half, and it felt Good. i’m gonna eat something real quick, then i’ll finally get to starters. in the meantime, feel free to hmu on d.iscord @ zenyatta#7286 if u want to chat or plot or w/e
like for a (short) starter!
❛ without h o p e. without witness. without reward. ❜
finally caught up on the new season of dw and i just wanna say, what, from the bottom of my heart, the fuck
high-key wanna revive this blog even though i haven’t been on this blog or consumed any dw-related media in over a year. i just,,,, miss my boy 12 so much. so stayed tuned, kiddos, i’m gonna binge all the eps i haven’t seen and try to get this blog running
requested by @beccayeahhh
First & last time the Doctor and Clara saw each other
clara oswald taking responsibility and control of her actions clara oswald risking and ultimately sacrificing herself for someone she’s only met 2 times in her life clara oswald not wanting another child to grow up without their parent clara oswald knowing exactly what to tell the doctor clara oswald spending her last moments making sure the doctor will be okay without her clara oswald being brave
Appearing like a winged creature poised on a pedestal, this object is actually a billowing tower of cold gas and dust rising from a stellar nursery called the Eagle Nebula. The soaring tower is 9.5 light-years high, about twice the distance from our Sun to the next nearest star
js
You. You listen to me. You’re going to be alone. And you’re very bad at that. You’re going to be furious. And you’re going to be sad. But listen to me, don’t let this change you. No, listen. Whatever happens next, wherever she is sending you, I know what you’re capable of. You don’t be a warrior. Promise me, be a doctor[…]heal yourself. You have to. You can’t let this turn you into a monster. So, I’m not asking you for a promise, I’m giving you an order: You will not insult my memory. There will be no revenge. I will die and no one else here or anywhere will suffer.
Clara Oswald, Face The Raven
If I ever needed proof that I loved you as a character, this is it.
(via needforcaffeine)
You listen to me. You’re gonna be alone now and you’re very bad at that.
i’m gonna play tomb raider for a while, but like for a starter when i come back! in the mean time, hmu on skype or im me on here if you want to chat/need something/want to cry about dw or plot.
Heal yourself.
By God, she’s trying, at least.
She watches him, half expecting some sort of outburst or anything that might make her flinch or recoil. She expects to be shouted at for even daring to disturb him, to be honest. She remembers that temper well. When none of it comes and he does take a small drink of the tea, she relaxes - somewhat. Her emotions are still broken and her chest is tight; everything within her feels shattered to the core. Half because of her own thoughts and memories, the other half comes from him. She takes it in stride - if there’s any way she can lessen the pain, she will.
“Of course I’ll stay.” Thirteen speaks gently, sitting near to him. She reaches out to touch his arm, a gesture of comfort and solidarity (she hopes). She wants to tell him he can cry or yell or do what he needs to make it better - but in reality, there is nothing to make it better. Not without Clara.
He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when she agrees. It’s not as if he’d expected her to hightail it out of there as soon as he gave her the chance, but verbal confirmation that she’s staying comes as a relief to him. He’s not sure why. Maybe he just doesn’t want to be alone. It’s not as if he’s alone by choice, though. Not this time.
The touch doesn’t go over as well. Initially, he jerks away like her touch is electric. It’s a natural instinct, nothing against her specifically. He’s been keeping it together well so far (at least in front of Thirteen, but his hands still ache from taking his emotions out on the console after he’d seen Rigsy’s memorial on the TARDIS), but everything’s still so raw. Twelve spends a moment perched on the edge of his seat, trying to get his emotions back under check.
“Sorry,” he mutters, though he’s not sure what exactly he’s apologizing for. Practically jumping out of his skin when she tried to touchhim, certainly, and maybe for her having to go through this at all. She’s lived it once, and here she is going through it again. That’s hardly fair. “None of this is fair.” He hadn’t meant to say that out-loud, but it’s too late to take it back. “Nothing’s ever fair, but this? She didn’t deserve that. She deserved better.” Clara Oswald deserved so much better than he could have ever given her. “Everyone’s deserved better, but Clara.... She could’ve had a good life. A long life. I should’ve let her be. But I was selfish. I took all that away from her because---” A long list of reasons catches in his throat, and he swallows hard. “D’you think she would’ve been fine if I’d just let her be? If I hadn’t asked her to come back after that Christmas? She could’ve lived. I -- we wouldn’t have gotten more time with her, but she would’ve gotten more time.” He’s trying to keep himself in line, but it’s starting to fail.His fingers are digging in to the edge of his seat, bright white against the dark leather. “She could’ve lived and been old and boring but safe and alive.”
*infinite hugging*
*never letting go tbh*
@bonyrascal liked for a starter.
Quietly, she places a cup of tea in front of him. She’s actively trying to hold back tears; what had started as a comfort attempt was going slightly off kilter. She can feel everything he does, the pain, the anger, the suffering - it makes her remember all over again.
“Drink.”
His eyes are firmly closed, and he intends to keep them that way. He doesn’t want to look at her. He knows she knows and she’s just trying to help, he does, but it’s not helping. Only one thing would help, and that thing’s impossible. She was always impossible, but now she’s impossible and gone and it hurts. It’s gnawing at his insides, tearing at his hearts. He wants to do something, but he promised not to. Be a doctor, she’d said, heal yourself. Too bad he’s horrible at listening to others.
The order gets his attention. He swipes his hand across his face, briefly presses his palm against his eyes like that’ll push the emotion out. It doesn’t. When he opens his eyes to frown at her, they’re still watery with tears he’s refusing to shed. She doesn’t look like she’s in much better shape. His gaze moves quickly from her to the cup, and his frown deepens. “Tea’s not going to fix anything,” he says, more tired than angry. Regardless, he picks the cup up gently and tries to ignore the slight shake in his hands as he takes a sip.
It doesn’t taste right. There’s nothing actually wrong with the tea, he knows; she ought to know how he likes it, and he suspects she’s put his usual ungodly amount of sugar into his cup. Still, his mouth tastes bitter, and the tea’s not helping that. Grimacing, he sets the cup aside and reluctantly turns his attention to Thirteen. “I....” He stops, clears his throat to try and force the lump in it down before trying again. “You don’t have to stay. Imagine this can’t be fun for you, either. But --- I’d appreciate it if you did.”
D is for Clara is not dying E is for Clara is not dying N is for Clara is not dying I is for Clara is not dying A is for Clara is not dying L is for Clara is not dying
You’re gonna be alone now, and you’re very bad at that. You’re gonna be furious, and you’re gonna be sad. But listen to me, don’t let this change you. No, listen. Whatever happens next, wherever she is sending you, I know what you’re capable of. You don’t be a warrior. Promise me, be a Doctor.
