donnaâs 2020 imdb page, as visible on desktop ( no.1 / ? )
dirt enthusiast
cherry valley forever
đȘŒ
Cosimo Galluzzi
Three Goblin Art

No title available

No title available
we're not kids anymore.

Andulka
One Nice Bug Per Day

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
RMH
YOU ARE THE REASON

Janaina Medeiros
Game of Thrones Daily
Aqua Utopiaïœæ”·ăźćșă§èšæ¶ă玥ă
taylor price

blake kathryn
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
sheepfilms

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from China
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia
@donnanxblearchive
donnaâs 2020 imdb page, as visible on desktop ( no.1 / ? )
i will be moving donna to a new blog in the next coming weeks, spring cleaning ultra mode if you will. with that, iâm considering a url change. i am massively emotionally attached to this url tho, so if yâall could take this poll iâd be super grateful đ
i will be moving donna to a new blog in the next coming weeks, spring cleaning ultra mode if you will. with that, iâm considering a url change. i am massively emotionally attached to this url tho, so if yâall could take this poll iâd be super grateful đ
I AM MANIFESTING MOM DONNA NOBLE LIKE NO ONEâS BUSINESS
(video from @/fierce_unicorn on twitter)
ALL MY DREAMS ARE COMING TRUE!!! WILF IS BACK! DONNA IS BACK! & TEN'S HAIR ACTUALLY LOOKS GOOD!
I AM MANIFESTING MOM DONNA NOBLE LIKE NO ONEâS BUSINESS
WHAT ARE YOU? WHAT WILL YOU BE??
independent + selective DONNA NOBLE of bbcâs doctor who post journeyâs end, fix-it, ( mostly ) canon compliant written by ench // about.
WHOMUSESâ:
âAn offer?â she flashed her own cheeky grin right back at Donna, resisting the urge to hop on her heels, excitable and wild as she was. This body had so much energy, always needing to move, almost fizzing with it. She could never focus except for the times where she couldnât stop focusing -Â
âOne trip?â she offered, grin widening, âJust for fun, somewhere ⊠exciting.â
How different the Doctor was now, compared to the slinking form that had first come back to her doorstep. It was a relief to see her happier, even if it was only at the prospect of an adventure and nothing philosophical. That had never hindered them before, rather it was what made them work. The reminder settled warmly in her chest as the Doctor questioned outloud. It was a new habit that Donna would have to get used to, hold herself back from shooting her equally as quick answers.
She wasnât complaining. Not really. Not when now she would have more than memories to smile about.
âSomewhere alien.â Donna makes the demand with a teasing smirk. âIâve got a decade dealinâ with Earth-bound aliens, Iâm not that keen to just hop back in time.â The excitement is contagious and sheâs waving her own hands empathically along to her words. âI want to be âwowâ-ed, just completely swept up-- somethinâ you hadnât known of before! Somethinâ new, for us.â
CAPACIITYFORPAINâ:
To ask if he recalled a paradox heâd encountered was asking him to remember more times than he would have liked, but he remembered this. Remembered everything, and he remembered the paradox in which it was everything. He didnât think that that was supposed to be remembered by anyone but him. But clearly, whatever lived inside of Donna, whatever remained from the connection between them, it protected her from forgetting. (Or perhaps everyone remembered, and heâd simply never asked.)Â âI remember,â he reassured.
He let her speak, let her explain. His own composure was strikingly in contrast to the way she struggled to gather her words. He felt that perhaps he should be more like her, more outwardly emotional in this moment, but all there was to do right now as she answered his question was listen. After all, the explanation made as much sense to him as anything else. Whether it was her own DNA or that of the Time Lord, something in her stopped allowing itself to be torn apart, and it patched itself up. âYou were spending all that timeâŠâ Over and over, dying. He had never thought that that would happen, never thought that anything more would come from what he had done to her. He thought it would help, keep her save, and that would be the end of that.Â
She turned, and he didnât know what to do. He didnât know if he was supposed to reach out to her, or if he was to give her her space. From what he remembered of her, he suspected she would prefer the latter, and he couldnât say he wouldnât prefer the same. He gave her her space, trusting that she would return to him when it was necessary. He was silent for a moment, watching her, not sure what to say, not sure what to do. âWhat have you been doing? Have you had anyâŠside effects?âÂ
Donna scoffed. âI dunno, would you say that growing a second heart counts as a side effect?â She was being catty, and he didnât deserve that. Not now. Now when he seemed to actually be caring about the consequences. He wasnât pushing past the subject, using neither maudlin or perky humor to move along. She owed him as much as he was giving her.
She took in a deep breath, straightened out her blouse and faced him again. âI uh, own a business, itâs doinâ alright and well, side-effects, I suppose,â she waved a hand as she thinks out loud, âturning more Timelord? I canât really go to normal healthcare, itâs actually Martha. Dâyou remember her? Martha Jones?â She doesnât let him answer, gathering speed and confidence as she continued. âCourse you do, she saved your skinâ and if you donât, itâd do you best not to tell me. But Martha, sheâs my doctor, only doctor Iâd trust to poke around and know what sheâs doing.â
Itâs not really an answer, and Donna knows it. There have been side-effects, continuous and sporadic ever since the mindblock left. Itâs in the way her voice gets away from her, in how her thoughts race too fast for her to breathe sometimes, and how feeling and focusing on time makes her feel ready to expire on the spot. She should tell him that, any of that, as sheâs been wanting to for years. But heâs keeping himself far enough that while itâs civil, itâs concernedâ itâs clinical.
It could just all be her paranoia. That was a side effect. She was always a little on the anxious side, worried about others opinions and expectations before worrying about herself. But she knew⊠It was more than that now.
âI do haveâŠâ She licked her lips and squared her shoulders. If she didnât feel comfortable telling him what was wrong, she would at least ask him for something. âI want to learn telepathy. From you. I have the knowledge but, so much is just,â she shook her head, âitâs mixed and unsorted and I need help, Doctor.â
SHEWALKEDâ:
     she visibly deflates, all the hope she had had of escaping unquestioned bleeding from her body as donna continues to push for her to talk. and martha knows she means well : donna has always been so conscious of marthaâs feelings and opinions since she joined them after what happened with lazarus. it had been just the two of them : martha and the doctor, for a short amount of time but it had become clear in that time together that she just wasnât enough for him. or at least, thatâs what martha was lead to believe. and she had been more than happy for donna to travel with them. martha had been told only one trip to begin with so anything after that was a bonus. but at a time like this, sometimes, loathe she was to admit it, martha resented that it wasnât just the two of them anymore.
      because the doctor didnât notice marthaâs turmoil, he hadnât thought to ask her if she was okay, or even question how quiet she had become since they returned to the tardis. if it had been just the two of them, she could have pushed it all aside, pretended that nothing was wrong, that nothing had changed. she could have thrown herself in to whatever the doctor had planned next and not thought about what had happened in nineteen thirteen until she was alone in her room, far away from the doctor. she canât do that with donna. and that brief moment of resentment disappears as suddenly as it had arrived, because how could she be anything but grateful to have donna there by her side ?
still. despite knowing that donna is persistent and adamant where martha is concerned, she canât help but try and dissuade her anyway.     â   i know,   â     she stresses quietly, arms crossing over her chest.     â   i know you didnât ask about him.   â     lower lip is gently tugged between her teeth as she stares at donna, being extra conscious of not turning her head to look at the doctor over her shoulder. the offer of leaving, of going to the library : a room on the tardis that martha finds particular comfort in secluding herself within for hours on end ( when they arenât running for their lives, of course ) is tempting. and it shows in the way she releases her lower lip and her head turns slightly towards the doorway, contemplating the offer before she nods imperceptibly and offers her friend a small if strained smile.     â   yeah, alrighâ     tea sounds good.   â     but she doesnât want to talk about this. she really doesnât. maybe it would be good for her, sure. but truthfully, martha thinks it might be donna who needs this more than she does. and thatâs the only reason why she gives in, albeit reluctantly.
  martha turns when the doctor speaks, startling her slightly and she smiles up at him standing by the tardis console. she hadnât noticed him behind her, the way he may have listened in, so as far as sheâs concerned, he has no idea that anything is wrong anyway. nothing is wrong, she thinks stubbornly. but she shrugs at the doctor as donna interrupts him, realising that she has already started to walk away and she hurries to catch up, avoiding the doctorâs eyes as donna turns back to him and she sighs heavily, her exhaustion catching up with her now that she knows they wonât be thrown head first in to another situation. she keeps walking as donna threatens him, her smile softening in amusement as she rolls her eyes.     â   anyone ever tell you youâre a little bit scary ?   â     martha asks of donna with a lightly teasing tone of voice. sheâs delaying the inevitable, she knows that, but donna could at least give her this. the walk to the library, before she has to talk about the past two months and how absolutely miserable it had been for her. her throat closes up slightly at the reminder, her teeth biting in to the inside of her cheek. she would never hold it against either donna or the doctor, but they really donât have a clue about what it was like for her there. her hands move to rub at her shoulders for warmth, already thinking about the throw blanket she had left in the library before the family had started hunting them. her pace quickens a step or two.
âi havenât been a little scary since primary. the words youâre lookinâ for,â thereâs a haughtiness to her words, to the rise of her chin thatâs unexpected given the conversation, âis that iâm a right bitch.â donna smiles easily at that, her typical short and loud laugh bursting through shortly after. with martha thereâs no anxiety over her pushy personality or having to shuffle for a simpering-enough facade.
smoothly, she wraps her left arm around the younger womanâs shoulder while keeping them moving. donna had noticed the twitch in her expression, not to mention her arms holding herself tightly. the instinct to hug martha close isnât one that she double-thinks, rather itâs a missed connection. just like donna hadnât hidden her true traits from martha, she had been open in her inclination for tight embraces, shoulder bumps, side pokes, and all the little touches that too many of her acquaintances ( she knew what true friends were now, and sheâd be damned if she was going to let them slip away ) considered too much.
for a moment, they walked together in companionable silence. the tardis didnât even try any foolery in changing their path, likely being able to tell that both were more tightly wound than obvious. the old girl was intuitive like that, or it might be better to say that as a telepathic ship she knew her inhabitants well. as well as she can for a mere human, donna sends a mental thanks for making their walk smooth and a request to not help the doctor find his way to them just yet. thereâs no way for her to know if her message got across, not even a morse-code flicker of the hallway lights, but having thought it calms her own anxiety. for all her posturing, she was well-aware that the doctor had the final say â she was just endlessly lucky that the doctor was more socially-inept than overbearing.
donna pats marthaâs shoulder, still not releasing her hold. itâs not a vice grip, almost resembling more of a casually slung guiding hold. she keeps her gaze on their path as they walk, knowing that she still had to go make the tea and hoping the tardis gives her a fork close to the library, âyou know, my mother always told me i should listen to the lilâ voice tellinâ me tâstop. never listened, especially when my grandma said the opposite. drove mum crazy. that was more a plus than not though, anâ iâd end up sneakinâ out the window eâen when she got all splotchy red.â her free hand comes up in an empty shrug, âsheâd say itâs a mystery where i âget the gall,ââ her voice takes on a shrill and mocking pitch before dropping back to her drawling register, âbut lookinâ back now, sâpretty clear i had a good source.â
they turn a corner and find the library doors opened before them. she lets go of martha as she steps forward to the fireplace, letting out a delighted sound as it starts on its own. âbrilliant, now iâve got to get the kettle goinâ. iâll just be a tick.â she spins on her heel, ready to keep going when a clatter sounds outside the door. she goes to check it, returning to the couch with a large grin, two mugs, and a teapot steaming ready. âeven better! guess the tardis stillâs got surprises for us.â donna gives them an additional moment of respite as she serves the tea and gets comfortably seated, but when she looks at martha again, thereâs a perceivable expression of patience on her face.
âright. iâm all ears, anythinâ you wanna get off your chest, youâre safe tâdo so. includinâ if itâs crying.â she slices a hand in the air, âiâm serious, no holds barred, love.â
FUGITIVE starters tw: violence/crime
â i really donât have time to talk right now. â
â i donât have time to explain. â
â do i know you? â
â you talk, you die. â
â what did you do? â
â why are you doing this? â
â why would i tell you anything? â
â what the hell happened to you? â
â what are you hiding from?! â
â iâve got your back. â
â you have no idea who i really am. â
â iâm calling the police! â
â you know i have to tell someone. â
â youâre about to become my hostage if you donât back the fuck up. â
â donât fuck with me. â
â can i come with you? â
â will you come with me? â
â how did you manage that? â
â how the hell did you get out?! â
â i thought i recognized you. â
â how much do i have to pay you not to talk? â
â give me $200 and i wonât talk. â
â FUCK, theyâre coming! hide! â
â iâm glad you got out of there. â
â iâm glad i got out of there. â
â i think itâs actually really brave, what youâre doing. â
ask sent by,   @donnanxble   ;    â  i donât hate you.  i admire you.  i always have.  â for birdie (context? timeframe? i donât know her) â
             â what is there to admire, huh?  mâ a sixty-four year old woman who has absolutely nothinâ goinâ for her. i âaint got no real job, no real home. mâ a - a nomadic outlaw whoâs only real talent is wieldinâ a gun anâ ⊠anâ hurtinâ people. â and whilst itâs the life sheâd always desired to leave, now that sheâs older it feels as though sheâs wasted a lot of years being the bad guy.   â i âaint sayinâ you gotta hate me but please donât admire me. jesus, donna.  â she lifts a hand to take her hat off her head, holding it in her left hand as her right one comes to scratch the top of her scalp.  â for a smart lady, yâ say some dumb shit. â it comes off harsher than she means for it to but thereâs no way in hell sheâll let the other liken her to something admirable.  â if anythinâ, itâs me who admires you. âÂ
birdieâs words donât hurt. theyâre far too similar for donna to take them as insult, to take them as anything but what they are: a stream of consciousness. instead, she huffs out a chuckle, barely enough effort behind the action to count it as such. a shade of a smile remains on her lips even as her gaze turns downward.
âyouâre pretty thick yourself, yâknow? i donât see any of those things. in fact,â donna takes in a deep inhale before meeting birdieâs gaze, âi see a woman thatâs smart enough to know what needs to be done, brave enough to not wait on otherâs solutions, and confident enough to keep her chin up during it all. that,â she stresses the word, âis whatâs so admirable about you.â
âiâm not bottom of the barrel, but...â she starts listing off, blue eyes turning back to their surroundings at the threat of vulnerability, âi donât have a career, i donât have anything tâmy name, and all my talents amount to is knowing how to give a good shout.â donna shrugs. âyouâre strides ahead, birdie.â
VELVETIPPEDâ:
              â a social reject? â   sheâll have to forgive you for scoffing,   you really canât help it.  â thatâs very rich coming from a woman who finds herself travelling the world with some lanky alien boy as opposed t o making her own relationships in a life that is  better suited to her. â human beings didnât need to travel in time,  it wasnât meant for them.  this is a world that is much too dangerous,  much too complex for them to ever get their small and simple minds around.     â if either of us are to be considered a reject of society, might i hand the baton over to you. â  and you mimic it with your hand, gesturing towards her as if you were a participant in a relay race. Â
you can appreciate her sharp mouth but the way she defends the doctor does make you feel just a little queasy and the mere idea of being the one to create homemade valentines cards for the doctor  has your features physically changing into an expression of disgust.     â donât be so stupid. â such a strong word to throw around, you expect some backlash for that.  â he isnât my type. â  and this isnât coming from a place of bitterness,  he truly isnât.     â weâre from a completely different planet so the idea of us sharing schools is impossible.  â   ever so cocky, you tilt your head as you watch her.   â the doctor and i arenât the same, despite our ability to manipulate time.  weâre a different species,  on completely different levels. the history merely lies in the fact that he keeps showing up and messing up my plans. â   as in,  youâre wanting to create some chaos and the doctor comes to piss all over that.  heâs too much of a goody goody.     â donât act like you know him,   miss noble. i can assure you thereâs lots the doctor hasnât told you. does he call you his best friend? iâve seen more before you.  âÂ
she looks at the extended hand as if it were diseased, unmoving as the nightingale retracts it at finishing her mockery. a year ago, the words would have burned into the back of her throat. they donât completely miss the mark, lifelong insecurities still finding a home within her but sheâs better now. the doctor, martha, and so many people that had crossed their paths had shown her that. the world was more than what used to worry her - hairstyles, and gossip, and hireable skills, and weight, and so on and so on - that the knowledge of time and space is more than sufficient balm in the absence of the doctor.
âyouâve really no idea how friendship works.â her lips purse into a mockery of a smile, the tightness in her cheeks a keeping pace with the sharpness of her voice. âi know thereâs been others, i expect there tâbe others. iâm not some terminal âpick-meâ like you. dâyou think youâre special? youâre not even impressive to this measly little human.â the words are snarled, inevitable as her anger moves to the forefront once more. âafter all, whatâs your goal, eh? cause some ruckus and wait for someone to clean it up? not much of a different level than a cryinâ child.â
WHOMUSESâ:
She straightened her spine with Donnaâs help, but all her energy feels sapped as she finally allows Donna to know whatâs happening. Only a taste, of course, of the trauma in her brain, the near impossible to explain pain that thunders through her skull, too many memories to fit in too small a space, no protection from an influx of - so many years. Fragments drifting, sharp edged, scraping their way into other memories, turning her own thoughts into a kaleidoscope of enimosity.
She almost allows herself to feel - safe, here. With strong Donna, always the campaigner for the little man, be it herself or the Ood, and how proud he had been of her back in the day. How strong, how so very strong to overcome every obstacle in her way. Never the coward, not like the Doctor. She groaned again, another spike of agony, her eye blurring and static and refusing to see in front of her, forcing her to press a hand hard against it again.
âI donât think there is anything.â she said, voice scraping in her throat. âThe damage heâs done, itâs ⊠like overstuffing a sausage casing. Itâs all spilling out and thereâs no way to keep it in there.â she swallowed hard again, forcing down bile, breathign sharply through her nose.
âI think I just wanted ⊠a mate.â she smiled, shakily, but the memory she called back to caused her shoulders to hunch again as the pain daggered.
The last time she'd seen the Doctor in so much pain was... Had she ever seen her like this before? The only time that comes close to it was when he'd been poisoned at the dinner with Agatha Christie. But he'd known what to do then. He had gone straight into action once he'd known what was happening to himself and she, no questions and all action, had followed his lead. This was not even remotely similar to a simple poisoning.
"There has to be something." Donna's voice is resolute. This sort of deadlocked acceptance wasn't something that Donna liked to dwaddle in. "And as your best mate, I'm not gonna let you expire in my house, of all places." She knows she's a touch telepath, knows that she's not the same person but-- Donna gently combs her fingers through the blonde locks, pushing the hair to one side so she can have an unobstructed view of her face, pained as it is.
There's the Timelord bit inside of her urging her to press against the Doctor's temples. She knows where the contact points are... Even if the technique isn't something she has practice in, she knows what to do. "What if..." her voice is low, measured as she lays her palm to the side of the Doctor's temple, "I took some of it in?"
doctor: no happy ever afters? donna: precisely. except with you.
it might be november 2021 but iâm still pissed that tentoo was able to live happily ever after being a human body with a timelord brain but donna noble couldnât even with having the exact same setup