Owls in Hoodies

Blog belonging to Doctor Basil Funkenstein. No puns, no banter, no silly hats. [12/Clara-era blog pre-'Face the Raven.']

[owlsinhoodies]

hey is your whouffaldi fic on ao3? i adore it

[Hi! I don’t actually have an AO3 account - I’ve been wondering if I should get one, but IRL writing work and deadlines have kind of stopped me from getting other things done, especially just-for-fun fanfic. I’m glad you enjoy it, though! Really hoping to come back to this blog at some point.]

[owlsinhoodies]

For the record, one more time, last time and then it’s up to you to remember and I won’t be responsible if you don’t.

The hair is not a separate entity. It does not have a mind of its own. It is just very, very good.

[owlsinhoodies]

Progress on my coffee robot has been delayed. It’s nothing you need worry about, though if you live in central London I would recommend locking your doors at night and bringing in any animals lighter than five pounds.

... make that seven pounds to be safe.

[owlsinhoodies]

Clara is thinking of buying one of those fat coffee robots. The kind you put a plastic cup in its head and it spits coffee out. And then hisses.

She’s clearly forgotten who she’s talking to. I can build her a coffee robot. 

[owlsinhoodies]

Stop it. I cannot afford to be Tumblr famous. I don’t need the small humans at Clara’s school interrupting my coffee break to ask for selfies.

[owlsinhoodies]

Summer solstice at Stonehenge on a webcam. Bah. I took Clara to at least six that were far better than this year’s, two that haven’t even happened yet. She’s asking now if there’s a Space Stonehenge.

[owlsinhoodies]

Reiterating to nobody in particular, especially nobody making coffee in the next room, that I am perfectly comfortable in my current attire. I am not ‘boiling,’ I am not ‘about to pass out.’ This is my personal style.

I ended the Time War and faced down Davros. I’ve seen the beginning and end of time. I will wear as many hoodies at once as I want to.

[owlsinhoodies]

Question for a friend, the friend is me.

Wait, I mean the friend is not me.

I am not the friend. Question for not me. I am asking the question, but bear in mind the answer is not for me.

How do you ask Clara to give you a haircut.

Remember it’s not for me, that’s important.

[owlsinhoodies]

Clara has baked a cake. I asked what for. She said boredom.

Very happy birthday to Boredom, wherever you are.

[rathzem]

| Red Velvet, a 12th Doctor charity calendar, is now available for pre-order!

Red Velvet is a 12th Doctor calendar styled around the photoshoots done by Peter Capaldi during his time as the Doctor on Doctor Who, as well as fashion-themed shoots in general. Our artists have interpreted the prompt in a variety of ways and executed in all different styles and mediums, creating a unique visual treat for your enjoyment.

All proceeds from sales will be donated to The Humanitarian Aid Program for Venezuela.

There are several ways to support the project:

The Physical Calendar is an 11x8.5 (11x17 unfolded) 14 month calendar with 14 original artworks, dated December 2020-January 2022.

The Digital Calendar is a print-at-home edition of the calendar with various formats to print.

The Full Bundle includes the physical and digital calendars and all merchandise produced, and is stretch goal eligible. Unique and useful swag!

The Stationary Bundle includes the sketchbook, pocket calendar, and canvas pouch items. Stretch goal eligible.

The Merch Bundle solely includes the merchandise produced. This is also stretch goal eligible.

And finally, the whiteboard, sketchbook, and pocket calendar can be purchased on their own!

Our washi tape stretch goal will be unlocked at 25 merch bundles. All merch bundles count towards it!

Orders will run until July 6th, after which production will begin. Anticipated ship date is early August or thereabouts, so please keep an eye on the blog, Twitter, or Instagram for the most up-to-date information!

Please spread the word by and share the link! Thank you everyone for your support!

[rathzem]

@fandomzines @zineforall @zinesubmissions @fanzinewatch @atozines @zinefans  @faneventshub @zinefeed @zinecenter @welovezines @eventfeed

[owlsinhoodies]

I do not recall posing for any of these. I must insist that as many people as possible acquire these items ASAP and investigate them thoroughly, then report back to me on their origin.

[owlsinhoodies]

Reblog if you think human children should be studying quantum physics by the age of 3. Trying to prove a Clara wrong.

[owlsinhoodies]

Hoodies and jackets together in warm weather are a statement and I will not be silenced.

[owlsinhoodies]

is this blog gonna keep happening?! i just read through the whole thing and it gave me all the whiffdilly feels! you do such a good job with the doctors voice i love it

[Thank you so much! Yes, it is back! I got off a lot of social media for a while so this necessarily went with it - plus I actually do have writing deadlines. (Yes, I am a published author; no, I’ve never written 12 in an official capacity, I just think he’s neat.) I realized how much I miss writing here, so I’ll probably be using it here and there again - hopefully more reliably too. I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed it!]

[owlsinhoodies]

Tumble recovery.

What was I doing with this again?

[memoriesbecomestories]

Merry Christmas @owlsinhoodies from your Secret Santa! 

I hope that you have a wonderful Christmas a very happy new year! 

[owlsinhoodies]

[Thank you so much! And thanks for the messages leading up. What a fun Christmas!! -owlmod]

[randomthunk]

Adrift somewhere, with old traditions.

Merry Christmas!

[owlsinhoodies]

[Whouffaldi Secret Santa]

[A bit of a holiday fic for @flydye88 ... hope you enjoy!]

Viscum album. A parasitic plant native to Great Britain. Poisonous if ingested, but otherwise harmless to humans.

At least, the Doctor mused as he examined the sprig on his work table, that’s what it wanted everyone to think.

If Clara hadn’t said something, he might never have noticed. They had stopped off near a Caffè Nero to pick up something a little more resembling coffee than the TARDIS’s replicator seemed ready to supply, and she’d spotted two of her students nearby when she first stuck her head out.

‘Oh, it’s Charlotte and Noah. Oh... well, that explains a lot.’

'Which ones are they?’ the Doctor called from his chalkboard.

Clara rolled her eyes. ‘The skinny one and the one who thinks Io is a city in America.’

‘Oh, those two. What are they doing?’

‘Kissing under mistletoe, apparently.’

The Doctor looked up. ‘Under mistletoe?’

‘Mm. Oh, well. I’ll pretend I didn’t see.’ And she left for the coffee shop, routing far enough around them so as not to cause an extra awkward teacher/student meeting in public.

When she was gone, the Doctor got up and looked out of the TARDIS. Sure enough, the skinny one and the Io one were standing under a sprig of something green hanging from a doorway. They weren’t pressing their faces together at this point, but they were oddly close.

He glanced up at the mistletoe. Why? What had made them do that? Mistletoe was an Earth-native plant with no adverse side effects (unless you were to eat it, of course). Surely there was no reason it should affect human behaviour.

He waited for the children to move on, then ducked out of the TARDIS and across the way to snatch the sprig of mistletoe from the doorway.

‘So,’ he muttered down at it, pinching the ribbon-wrapped stalk between his fingers. ‘What are you about, then?... Wait.’ He looked at it from all angles. Sniffed it. Artificial.

‘Well... now that’s very strange.’

* * *

He’d conducted the experiments in his spare time, between trips with Clara -- largely because she tended to laugh at his experiments or write them off as something like an Internet meme or a phone app. (The fact that she’d always been right so far made notwithstanding.)

Both natural and artificial mistletoe produced the same effects -- or at least similar. The nature of the mistletoe didn’t seem to be what caused the variants in behaviour so much as human attitudes. Humans who already seemed positively inclined toward each other were more likely to press their faces together underneath it; others either got embarrassed or upset. It was all down to their attitude about each other.

Strangest of all, they would acknowledge the mistletoe above them. It was almost as though they knew that something was going on, but were helpless to resist.

The Doctor’s first hypothesis, that someone or something was using something in the mistletoe’s makeup to spread a deadly alien virus between humans via the mouth, was unlikely. It worked with the artificial sort, too, after all. While it was possible for the right sort of plastic to house and transmit a certain sort of spore, it wouldn’t work with the natural sort.

All he knew at this point was that it only worked on humans (it didn’t make him inclined to do anything) and that it didn’t actually appear to be harmful or fatal to the humans it affected... Skinny and Io were just fine, according to Clara.

So, it was time to run a few experiments.

* * *

Someone had nailed a bunch of dandelions over the entrance to her kitchen.

‘Doctor.’

The Doctor sat up, his head poking over the back of the sofa where he’d been lying (mostly hidden). ‘Why do you always assume everything is my fault?’

‘I hadn’t even accused you of anything yet.’

‘”Yet”. See? What am I supposed to have done now?’

Clara pointed to the bunch of dandelions over the door. ‘Why are you nailing weeds up in my home?’

The Doctor glanced toward the dandelions, then frowned, silent for a few moments as though weighing whether or not to answer honestly. ‘It’s a control.’

‘A control.’

‘Yes, Clara, obviously. Every experiment needs a control.’

Clara pursed her lips. ‘Great. Good. Wonder what I’m going to find in the bath.’ She stalked off to check. When she was out of the room, the Doctor grabbed a pad and pencil from his hoodie, sketching down notes. No effect with non-mistletoe plants.

‘Well,’ Clara sighed, leaving the bath as the Doctor shuffled his notepad away hurriedly, ‘at least you’ve not done anything else yet. Mind telling me what the experiment is?’

‘Not when it’s in progress.’

‘Right. Well.’ She stretched a hand up to pull the dandelions down, but her fingertips fell a few inches short. ‘Ugh. Get that down, would you?’ She stalked past him into the waiting TARDIS.

The Doctor followed a few moments later, tossing the dandelions over his shoulder. Clara had wandered up the stairs to go back and check on the TARDIS coffeemaker, but stopped to look up when she reached the doorway. ‘Oh.’

The Doctor held his breath, reaching for his notepad. ‘Oh?’

‘I didn’t know this was your sort of thing.’ Clara pointed at the sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorway.

‘My sort of “thing”?’

Clara snorted. ‘Well, yeah. You can barely handle being hugged, never thought I’d see you actively soliciting for a kiss.’

The Doctor tilted his head, mouth slightly open in confusion. ‘I’m sorry, are you accusing me of being solicitous?’

‘Well, yeah,’ Clara said over a laugh. ‘You? Mistletoe?’

‘Yes. Me. Mistletoe. I told you, it’s an experiment.’

‘This is? Wait, the dandelions were part of this?’ She lowered her head, chuckling to herself. ‘What, were you seeing if other plants would get you kisses, too?’

The Doctor bristled. ‘Clara, this isn’t about me. It’s about the safety of humanty.’

Clara shook her head, still grinning. ‘Right, right, of course. Because mistletoe is a parasitic alien monster plant making humans do their bidding by kissing each other at Christmas.’

‘Well, that’s what I’m trying to find out, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, dear.’ Clara smiled, but it was a warmer smile now. ‘Doctor, it’s just a silly old Christmas tradition.’

The Doctor raised an eyebrow incredulously. ‘Is it?’

‘Yes. Just like you’re a silly old alien.’

‘So, no mind control.’

‘Mm-mm.’

The Doctor walked up the stairs, eyeing the mistletoe. ‘No spores.’

‘Nope.’

‘People just... use it as an excuse to press their faces on each other’s faces.’

Clara nodded. ‘Pretty much, yeah.’

The Doctor stood in front of Clara, his mouth twisted up in the awkward almost-smile she’d become all too familiar with. ‘Seems a bit silly.’

‘And you’re standing under it.’ Clara looked up, nodding slightly.

‘Oh...’

‘Well. You know what I have to do now.’

The Doctor looked aside, turning a bit pink. ‘Go fix the coffee maker?’

‘Mm. Later.’ She tugged gently on his lapels until he lowered his face down to eye-level, then kissed him gently on the nose.

The Doctor blushed even brighter red. ‘Ah...’

‘Not done.’ She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his. He was stoic for a moment, but soon his arms were around her, and he was reciprocating, the nervousness melting away.

Clara pulled away, catching her breath. ‘So, conclusion?’

The Doctor cleared his throat. ‘Ah... hm. T-To what?’

‘Your experiment.’

‘You know, I’ve forgotten where I was going with it.’

Clara giggled, wrinkling her nose. ‘So you’ll not be putting your findings before a committee anytime soon.’

‘Doubtful.’

The mistletoe stayed right where it was for quite some time.