Discover Top Posts Tagged with #bi!clara

shesthedoctor

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can someone pls make a gif compilation of all of…

i’ve been thinking about making one of this! do you have any other moment in mind? my memory is awful.

omg!! okay so i have a few speaking moments, that one with the “she’s cute. i’ll fight you for her” in the girl who died, the “jane austen… and strictly amongst ourselves, a phenomenal kisser,” in the magician’s apprentice, also “sometimes jane austen and i prank each other, she’s the worst. i love her. take that how you like” in face the raven, maybe even “the first boy i ever fancied was called rory. actually, she was called nina” which was obviously oswin in asylum of the daleks, also!! from the little clara and the tardis minisode when she’s looking at a photo of amy and goes “dear god that woman is made of legs, that’s the most legs on any living human” and then for no speaking, literally any time she held a smile while looking at a woman, like with journey in into the dalek where she just smiles at her really nicely, or anytime she smiled at ashildr and also bc i love danny x clara and it’s bi!clara, i love all the little silent scenes where she smile either at or because of danny and man she’s lovely and i love her. but those speaking parts are obvs my faves and i just love any lgbt+ representation on doctor who

@shesthedoctor @jodiewhitttaker (just tagging bc you guys were interested, don't feel obligated to do it, just thought it might help)

#shesthedoctor #yassssss #i love #bi!clara #reply #tp #jodiewhitttaker

A Brief History of Clara (ft. Amy)

Clara found herself midway through her copy of Pride and Prejudice (her eighth time re-reading it) when she was once again struck by a persistently intrusive thought.

She wasn’t gay, was she?

She tried to brush it off- of course she wasn’t. She’d had a serious boyfriend before and two flings after that (both male). As far as she remembered, she’d only ever dated men, too. Of course she wasn’t seeing anyone right now, but it seemed a bit of a leap to suggest that confirmed her as a lesbian.

In fact, she’d never really thought about it until it had become something of a running joke among her group of friends. The four of them had been basically inseparable during their university years, all of them studying English, and had jokingly dubbed their group ‘the Marauders’ as a Harry Potter reference. Unfortunately the name had stuck. It was, however, during those Marauder years that all of the other three had discovered they were LGBT.

Priya had been the first- she came out to the group very stiffly and officially halfway through the first year. Clara and the others hadn’t been massively surprised, as Priya did seem to fit most of the stereotypes. She played Lacrosse, she watched anything and everything Gillian Anderson ever appeared in and she even had a Mohawk. The Marauders had thrown her a party the following night, draping rainbow bunting on the wall and imbibing frankly ludicrous quantities of alcohol. It was during that night that the dent in the wall first appeared, that Clara’s flat got its first visit from the police for excessive noise and that Priya’s wardrobe got drunkenly raided…

…By Naomi, who until that night hadn’t given a thought about her gender. It was six months later, when they’d all moved in together for second year, that Naomi had let slip to Clara that she was, in fact, a woman. And after getting a lowing reception from Clara, she told the other two marauders in the next 24 hours. She’d insisted that they not make too much of a fuss about it and not tell anyone else yet, but the marauders had been starved of parties for a while and had insisted on one, despite Naomi’s objection’s that she had to finish reading a 600 page novel for her course by the end of the week.

So they fished out the bunting from Priya’s coming out party, bought more alcohol and played the cheesiest pop songs they could find all night long. Naomi had come out of her room a little sheepishly, wearing a charity shop dress and a wig she’d bought from a party shop some time previously. Over the course of the night, however, Naomi grew slowly more confident, until she was misquoting ABBA at the top of her voice with the rest of them. Clara and Priya were delighted to have a third girl in the group, and while Clara applied some make-up to Naomi’s face, Priya had taken her top off and showed her how to stuff a bra, much to Naomi’s embarrassment.

Naomi came out very slowly, and only to a few old friends from school and one or two from her board games society. Her parents didn’t find out until a year later. But by and large, nothing seemed to change within the group. Naomi identified as a woman, of course, but the group dynamic stayed very much the same. The only difference was that the final marauder had gotten very inquisitive about Naomi and her gender identity.

Sometimes it was sweet and sometimes it was incredibly obtrusive, but the constant questions never seemed to go away. And it was when Naomi had finally psyched herself up enough to use the women’s public restroom for the first time, and the two of them were standing outside the door, that the straw finally broke the camel’s back, and what Naomi used to see as her friend’s curiosity finally got on her nerves.

“So… um… do you have to pull down your skirt to pee, or does it, I dunno, flare out around the bowl?”

“Why,” she said through gritted teeth, “do you need to know?”

Naomi had said it with more anger in her voice than she’d meant to, but all the same, there had been a lot of questions up until this point. She looked at her friend, who, for someone on the uni’s basketball team, and was always the first in with jokes, was looking awfully quiet and embarrassed.

“Because…” -deep breath- “because I think I might be a woman too.”

Two versions of this story got back to Clara and Priya, one with a solemn, stoic, hug. And one that said their new female friend had broken down crying with snot flying everywhere. Knowing their friend as they did, they believed the latter. And it was when they were all in the flat together at the end of the day that the subject got round to names.

“I like Hermione.” She said.

“We know you do.” Said everyone.

“You’ve got two posters of Emma Watson in your room, you stalker.” Priya snarked.

“No, as a name.”

It was at that point that they all remembered who had come up with the name ‘the Marauders’.

“You’re naming yourself after a Harry Potter character?”

“To be fair,” Priya interjected, “She could be naming herself after a Shakespeare character. She is an English student after all.”

“No… I am definitely naming myself after a Harry Potter character.”

They all groaned, but nobody fought it, and the name Hermione very quickly stuck.

And then, in true marauders fashion, they broke out the rainbow bunting and the alcohol and got very loud and very drunk. While Naomi took Hermione under her wing and told her all the stuff she wished she’d known when she first realised, Clara and Priya were fighting over the music. Only after half an hour with no music playing at all did the two decide on the playlist. Priya had suggested all-girl bands to mark the momentous occasion, and Clara agreed provided they didn’t play any sugababes songs.

A little while later, a question reared its head that Clara had been thinking about ever since. It was in the middle of a discussion of maybe having a communal wardrobe and how it could never work because everyone was massively different in size. (Hermione was tall and lanky, Priya medium and muscled, Naomi somewhat plump, and Clara obviously miniscule) Very quickly it had deteriorated into the standard conversation topic of making fun of Clara’s height, at which point Clara voted they change the subject.

Priya was the first to offer a suggestion.

“So, Clara, now that three of us have come out as lesbians- hang on, you two are gay, right?”

“Oh, very”

“I do love me some women”

“Right, so that’s three out of four of us.” She smiled an evil smile. “So, Clara. When are you planning on coming out?”

The other two ‘ooooooh’ed in anticipation.

Clara tried to laugh it off, but when pressed, she apologised: “Sorry girls, still straight.”

That got her a round of boos and a pillow thrown at her.

Ever since that conversation, she found herself questioning every interaction she had with a girl. Did she look at that lady’s skirt because she liked the design or the swaying hips beneath it? Did she go to the gym to get fit or to watch sweaty ladies run? Did she get on well with girls out of a sense of female comradery, or was it a desire for something more?

And at night, did she watch porn for the woman or the man?

Clara’s sexuality remained a popular running joke among the group. There were a few pools going for when she’d come out and as what and she’d still get thinly veiled jokes directed at her, like whether she wanted to eat in or eat out. Nothing particularly witty, but they all had a good laugh at Clara’s squirminess.

She remembered another conversation she’d had with Hermione, who was feeling philosophical (and, Clara suspected, high) and was feeling euphoric at the fact that they’d all found each other before knowing they were all gay (Clara wanted to correct her, but there was just no interrupting her when she was like this) She’d heard Priya speak about gaydar before, which might explain it, but, she reasoned, it’s probably something only LGBT people have. Clara wasn’t sure it existed, only having heard it in the context of a joke, but she figured, if she was gay, she’d know it was real, because she’d have it.

The last year of university passed with only one Earth-shattering revelation, and that was that Naomi and Hermione had started going steady. They’d hidden it from the other girls at first, because they hadn’t been sure of what the relationship was for a long time. And for a while, Clara and Priya were alone in the flat, because there seemed to be a Board Game Society Emergency every other night that Hermione and Naomi had to rush off to.

They’d only been found out when Clara had opened the front door one day while they were walking up the stairs holding hands. As she recalled, they’d had their nails done in matching colours. There had been a moment of mutual embarrassment and then Clara had (to her shame) screamed really loudly in happiness.

The couple announced themselves more publicly when Priya was present, and it turned out it had been going on for about two months. It had started as an enthusiastic exchange of ideas about make-up brands and turned into frequent second hand shopping trips together. Naomi had bought Hermione her first bra and Hermione had taught her a few tricks she’d learnt from youtube about how to create cleavage.

And then there was one night while Clara and Priya were pulling an all-nighter in the library, that Hermione had come home to find Naomi crying on her bed, her back hunched and angular and ripping chunks of hair out of her wig. Hermione sat down next to her and almost immediately Naomi collapsed into her lap and told her she was experiencing a horrible resurgence of dysphoria. The two stayed up all night talking it out, with Hermione trying her best to distract her with jokes, none of which seemed to land.

Naomi had dismissed her, tried to push her away. “You’re not helping.” She said. “you don’t understand”. And that was when Hermione changed tactics. She told her all about how much she’d inspired her, about how she’d probably never have come out at all if it weren’t for Naomi’s example. How she was so so sorry for all the questions before and how all she wanted was to know how to transition as easily and as confidently as she had. How she was so lucky to have so smart and so kind and so beautiful a friend as her and that in a world full of beautiful ladies, that Naomi was the only one to ever capture her heart.

The night wore on, the sun very nearly peaking over the horizon before the two fell asleep. In the end, Naomi was almost back to her old self and was smiling before she drifted off. The two had awoken the next day to find they’d fallen asleep slumped against each other, hands touching.

It had been a few years since then, and the gang found themselves drifting apart a little. They graduated together, with Naomi and Priya both managing firsts (Priya in particular liked to laud this over Clara, who only managed a 2:1. Hermione scraped a third.) but before they knew it Naomi had been offered a job that required her to move up North and Hermione had followed her.

Unable to afford the flat with just the two of them, Priya and Clara set about moving out, dividing up the remaining stuff between them. Priya had insisted that Clara take the rainbow bunting in case she ever needed it. “We need to make it four out of four” she’d said. Clara would have laughed, but the idea of moving out away from her uni family was just too much for her. Before either of them could break down in tears, Priya spotted a book in one of Clara’s boxes and held it up to her.

101 places to see.

“You see this, Clara, look. You know how we always talked about travelling the world together, but we never did because we never had the money?”

Clara nodded.

“Well, we’re going out into the wider world now. We’re getting jobs and moving and being grown-ups and everything, but the upside of that is that we will be making some serious money.”

Clara let out a breath that could charitably be described as a laugh.

“You’ll be nannying full time and I’m going to be a secretary at a publishing firm, but with the money we make from that, we’re going to go round the world, together, you and me. And we’ll get Hermy and Nay in on it too, okay? One year from today. We’ll meet up and go on a holiday, just like old times, okay?”

Clara managed a smile. “Okay.”

“And we’ll all still keep in touch. All of us.” She smiled slightly, “And you’re going to message us all the time aren’t you? It’ll be like we never left. You’ll tell me how snotty those kids are, and I’ll keep you updated on all the office gossip and you’ll tell us when you’re finally ready to come out. Because the pool’s still going. If you come out in the next year, I win twenty quid.”

Clara pushed her away and let out a tear-filled laugh.

Eleven months went past when tragedy struck and the kids were left parentless, with Clara their legal guardian until a relative could be found. She kept the book close to her bed at all times, with her mother’s leaf in the front and a ticket tucked away as a bookmark in the back.

Clara couldn’t really bring herself to message the group much in the months that followed. Between the tragedy and her responsibilities, she had little time, and when she did, the conversation always drifted onto the holiday the three of them had shared together. The more left out she felt, the less she got in touch, until it got to the point where they hadn’t spoken in months.

The marauders had disbanded.

She still caught the occasional glimpse of them on facebook (when she could get the computer to work) but they only posted about the big events. Priya had gotten promoted and then left a month later for a job as an editor for a company that published children’s books. Naomi and Hermione had started HRT together, with Naomi now working for an advertising agency. She wasn’t sure what Hermione did for a living, but she was apparently doing very well as an amateur basketball player. But anything more intimate than that was a mystery to her.

Another six months after the tragedy, Clara still found herself in charge of the children with her book gathering dust on her shelf. After she’d put down her Pride and Prejudice, she found herself searching for a long-unopened box in the cupboard- the one marked ‘uni’. She opened it to discover a lot of her belongings she hadn’t touched in at least a year. Some band T shirts she’d torn the bottom half off to show her midriff, a wig she’d worn when Hermione and Naomi had dragged them all to see Rocky Horror, a vibrator Priya had bought her for her 21st and then, at the bottom, underneath the pile of nostalgia, she found the rainbow bunting.

That was when the doorbell rang.

Clara hurriedly smushed it all back into its box, looking back over it twice to make sure the vibrator was hidden away before tucking it away.

She answered the door to find a tall redhead dressed in a French maid outfit.

Clara’s mouth fell open.

This woman was beautiful. A vision, even. It was like Clara had been hit by a truck. A really sexy truck. With boobs.

It was at that point she noticed that with her in slippers and the maid in high heels, Clara’s eyeline was right at breast level. She tried to break away, but it was almost like the boobs were trying to make eye contact.

“Hello. You’re Clara Oswald, yeah?” she spoke in a sultry Scottish voice that made the necks on the back of Clara’s neck stand upright. Luckily, she didn’t notice where Clara was staring.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Clara responded uncertainly, turning her eyes to the woman’s perfect face, and her very kissable red lips.

“Oh thank fuck for that. I’ve been trying to find this place for ages.”

Something about the way she said “fuck” had made Clara’s legs shiver.

“Oh, Christ. Sorry. I’m supposed to be working. Duh.”

Clara’s mind immediately sprung to the image this woman tidying her house, bending over every so often to fluff something with her feather duster, exposing what lay under her very short, very frilly skirt. Suddenly she felt it really rather necessary this woman come inside. It didn’t even occur to Clara that she hadn’t ordered a maid.

She was about to make the offer and enjoy all the time she could spend watching this goddess in very revealing clothing (and- her insides squealed- fishnet stockings!) when something even better happened.

She strode in through the doorway until she was breast to face with Clara, then slowly crouched down. Clara could suddenly feel her heart in her chest. Their lips were level. The redhead’s hand moved to Clara’s cheek, then moved inwards, stroking the underside of her chin, until she had a finger and a thumb on either side of Clara’s jaw. Then she pulled Clara in.

Clara’s eyes bulged open in surprise, then gradually drifted shut as she lost herself in the kiss. The redhead’s lips were so soft and moist, it was like heaven. And then- had she imagined it?- there seemed to be a slither of tongue! Clara’s knees wobbled. The maid’s mouth opened and closed again, carrying on the kiss. Clara was about to moan in sheer delight when-

The kiss stopped.

The maid lady straightened up and stepped back to inspect her handiwork. Clara was stood there, unmoving, in complete shock at what happened, with a big red lipstick smear across her face. Clara tried to make a noise To thank her? To get the kissing to continue? To just say anything?

The redhead smiled in glee- “oh you are adorable!” She tickled Clara’s chin with her feather duster and Clara turned the reddest she’d ever been.

“Oh!” The redhead shouted. She reached into her cleavage, sending Clara’s heart into overdrive, and produced a note, which she read aloud.

“You are cordially invited to the wedding of Naomi Wolfe and Hermione Small on the night of the 23rd of November.” And then with a less-official voice. “Aw, that’s nice. Good for them!” She looked at the back of the invitation. “Oh, and there are more details on the back for you.”

She held out the note to Clara, who stared at it in disbelief.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I spent a while trying to find this place so it might be a bit sweaty. Occuptaional hazard of being a kissogram, I’m afraid.”

Clara very tentatively, and with a shaking hand, took the card, her fingers brushing against the maid’s fingernails. The maid looked at her in amusement.

“First time kissing a girl?” She asked, coyly.

Clara nodded, dumbstruck.

The maid leaned down until she was face to face with Clara again. She could feel the redhead’s breath on her lips. “Then you’ve got a lot of fun ahead of you.”

And before she could ask her name, the maid had gone. She’d just walked out of the drive and out of Clara’s life before she could convince her to stay forever.

Clara’s heart was still beating monumentally fast, and before she knew what she was doing, she was rifling through the box again and found the vibrator, which- yes!- still had working batteries in it. She ran upstairs, vibrator in one hand, sweaty invitation in the other, and practically jumped onto the bed. She felt her breath shiver out of her as she snuck an exploratory hand down her skirt and flicked the switch on her little toy…

Five orgasms later, she sat herself up, dripping in sweat (among other things) and tried to process the events of the day. Then, once her mind was back on track and her breathing was normal, she pulled out her laptop, which, amazingly worked first time.

She called up Facebook, clicked the messages icon and scrolled down until she found a very old group chat. Into it, she typed…

“Who had April 4th, 2012?”

She looked at the date and smiled.

4/4.

#pondswald #bi!Clara #doctor who