#timeslament

[aroseintimearchive]

timeslament replied to your post “.”

Ah - - so that IS you then, right. Least I don't need to worry about just who found my OUAT accounts, both of them. I was almost suspicious.

omfg-- you have ouat accounts. TWO OF THEM. dfnkdsjnfkjsdn

[aroseintimearchive]

timeslament replied to your post: the-bon-fire asked:Snowy Cabin ...

RP ALL THE THINGS. Honestly. How can anyone resist this, tho seems like ya got a lot of takers already. xD

[ ahaha i know right? omg it sounds so cute! Whaaat! There's no such thing ;) but if you're busy i understand if you wanna pass! You've already got a lil pile of things for me hehe ]

[aroseintimearchive]

Snowy Cabin

❅ The Holidays: M!A List ❅

Snowy Cabin:Your muse is snowed into a cabin with one other person. And oh no! It's for at least a week. Use this time wisely, because you might never have another chance with that lucky fellow/lady.

omg yesh. Anyone wanna RP this with me? Message, reply, or like? 

[aroseintimearchive]

--> ♚

Send a ♚. Your character falls asleep on mine, I’ll reply with what mine does.

Often she found herself wondering if he was on a permanent sugar high. Afternoons babysitting her cousins had given her all possible warning signs after all, and on most occasions they were easily identifiable within the bouncing, erratic mess that was the Doctor. She, herself was quite the excitable thing, skipping, bounding and twirling around him; but there were some times where she fought to keep her eyelids open, not able to do much more than look on with amusement as he practically jittered in front of her. 

Right now seemed to be one of those times. The two of them were squished side by on the jump-seat, Rose's legs thrown over his pin-striped clad ones, as his voice travelled down a path of humorous octaves, all the while he twirled some kind of machinery back and forth between his long fingers. 

Hell, was it positively awful of her to willingly admit she'd been staring at those lovely fingers of his for the past few minutes? Watching their fluid movements, pondering how a sculpture of feathers would be a mere breeze to pitch up with the delicate pads of his fingers-- however noting the strength that was embedded into every flick and twist, and the wonders they had carved. Her thoughts danced around the feeling of his hand protectively clasping hers, latching on to the pure gravity of it, like a lost soul. And even daring to dwell upon what it would be like to have those skilful fingers dragging along her collar bone and along her soft skin, and oh did she drink in every possible outcome that would lead to-- how his thumb would caress her hip bone, daring to slide lowe-- 

                                                                                                              -- Rose. 

                   { Soddin' hell. She really had to get a grip over herself, even if she was tired. Already her cheeks are burning, flames towering higher and higher until the blush has crept down her neck and inhabited her chest. OH god, ohgodohgod. }

But something appears to be rather odd. And this strikes her the moment she's able to calm the blood pounding in her ears, and the racing 'thud' of her heart beat. It was far too quiet, and after attempting to silence her thoughts for a moment, she recognises a sudden added weight against her chest. 

                                               The Doctor, sleeping soundly. 

It was an awfully peaceful sight Rose had to admit. But even now she wasn't able to halt the uncontrollable twitching of her lips as she takes in the sight of him. Glasses crooked on his nose, cheek pressed against her chest, lips slightly parted and body draped in a position that looked to be quite awkward. It actually took quite a lot from within her to keep her body from shaking with laughter and ultimately jostling him. 

          { And oh,  didn't her heart just absolutely swell with adoration? }

                        Instead, the blonde hesitantly reaches out to slide his glasses from his face, before her thumb-- slowly but surely reaches out and caresses the curve of his cheek, her own lips parted in awe at just how... how.. perfect he seemed. If it were her choice he'd remain put in her arms for a very long time, and perhaps that's why it saddened her that once he woke up, this opportunity would not arise again. For one, he hardly ever slept in front of her, and two, he... well, she supposed he just wasn't... He didn't.. fancy her the way she did him. 

Nonetheless Rose finds herself scooting over slightly, giving him more room to cushion himself against her, just before she's carefully leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, her lips lingering against his soft skin for far longer than they should have, just letting her warm breath wash over him as she took in his scent that was just so purely Doctor. 

[lancashiresassarchive]

♚

Send a ♚. Your character falls asleep on mine, I’ll reply with what mine does.

At first, she just sort of watches him. There’s something unusually comforting in the way his chest moves up and down with each breath. He looks peaceful. The weight of everything he’s done, the regret that creeps onto his features when he lets his guard down just for a moment — it’s gone. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying it. She wishes he could always look this peaceful, or better yet, she wishes he could feel as peaceful as he looks.

There’s still so much of it that she doesn’t understand. She’ll probably never make sense of it all, and while normally that sits heavy on her shoulders, she can’t bring herself to care in the moment. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters expect for the feeling of his two hearts beating rhythmically against his chest. She’s never been this close to him before, never close enough that she’s able to feel the beating of his hearts. In their own way, they’re like a lullaby she’s heard a million times over. It would be so easy to give into them and allow herself to settle into a dreamland of her own, but she’s not ready. She wants to treasure this moment for as long as she can.

                                                                                         Who’s to say it will ever happen again?

Her fingers hover for a moment, just above the top of his head, letting the ends of his hair tickle the inside of her palm. She thinks about running her fingers through his hair, she’s seen him do it so many times that it’s tempting. But she manages to resist the urge. In truth, Clara’s too afraid she’ll somehow wake him. But the longer she lies there, the more she finds she has to say. It’s all building up in her head; rebounding off the walls of her brain and trying to force it’s way onto her tongue. She can almost taste the words.

Teeth sink into her tongue, determined to keep the words at bay. There’s too much she wants to say. There’s too much that she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to put into words. And shouldn’t he awake for it? Doesn’t he deserve that much?

But she knows the truth. She knows the words that are fighting their way up her throat aren’t words she’d ever dare say when he was awake. She’d never allow herself the simplicity of letting him know how she felt. There’s an irrational fear that sits heavy on her heart, that keeps her teeth sinking further into her tongue to keep her silent. She doesn’t want to seem weak. From the moment they met, she’s found ways to show him that she doesn’t need him.

The sigh slips through her lips. She freezes, waiting for him to stir. And when nothing changes, Clara can’t help but smile. She knows she’s giving in. Can she still blame him? He’s not awake to coax her into anything, but can she still blame him, because it’s easier?

“What am I goin’ to do with you, Doctor?” Her voice is almost brittle. She has no idea where it came from and she’s not sure how she’s supposed to feel about it. She wants to reject the feeling, to silence herself, but she knows that’s not the answer. “We’ve been through so much. Think we’ve been through more than you know. ‘Course, that’s all in your future.” The words come out much lower now, like she’s trying to keep him from hearing her.

“There’s so much y’ haven’t done. I can see it all missin' from your eyes. “ It feels like she’s crossing some invisible line in their relationship. The word spoilers rings out clear as day in her head and all she can see is River and her head of hair. It brings a smile to the impossible girl’s features, but there’s still tears beginning to gloss over her vision.

Another sigh. It’s all she can think to do. If she says any more, she’ll put his future and possibly her heart at risk. If she doesn’t stop herself now, she fears she’ll never stop. Because, there’s that part of her that wants to warn him for what’s to come. There’s so much heartbreak in his future and it kills her to see it etched in his features. But she can’t. All she can do is try and be there for him, like she has been so many times before.

She leans down, just a bit, hardly moving, to press her lips to the top of his head. “Sweet dreams, Doctor.”

[aroseintimearchive]

fic tennis: Ⓓⓘⓐⓟⓔⓡⓢ ⓐⓝⓓ Ⓑⓞⓣⓣⓛⓔⓢ

Why was she doing this? Why? It was... well, ridiculous! Impossible! Or at best horribly unlikely. This was the last time Rose Tyler took her mums advice, that's for sure. Because as of right now the blonde is leaning against the cool tiled wall (which felt quite good in comparison to her blazing cheeks), she'd been feeling sick all morning, and for the past two weeks for that matter, and finally after hours upon hours of insistent phone calls and hushed whispers of 'Rose, do it. Now.' from none other than Jackie Tyler she'd finally given into the stubborn fortress that was her mum. Alright, so maybe she'd only given in once the older Tyler had shoved  a rectangular box into her bag.

Honestly the entire idea had her mind positively spinning; she supposed on some level -- hypothetically this all made sense, all the symptoms added up. But whether Rose had time to actually make sense of it herself was an entirely different story all together. Right now she was attempting to keep herself calm, and sane, and halt her thoughts from doing any kind of wandering- just so she could stop herself from going bloody mental with anxiousness. But the jagged stubs where her nails used to be depict that she hadn't exactly been handling this as well as she'd hoped. 

How long had it been now? Two minutes? Three? Four? So far she's been checking in on the little stick every few seconds. But a watched pot never boiled, so she'd decided to take a few deep breaths. Which had almost turned into a series of panicked pants. But taking a glance at her watch - well, it had been over 7 minutes, she decided it was time for her to step forward, one foot and a time and check the results. 

In those few long draaawn out moments, the blonde had most definitely not been purposefully attempting to keep her thoughts from straying over to a certain part Time Lord, and what he would make of all this. Granted, pacing from wall to wall, identifying different slides of alien DNA and blood, the scenario is pretty empty in his mind, considering he doesn't have the faintest idea what is currently happening in his bathroom back at home. However he is awfully worried about his Rose, she's been feeling quite ill for quite a bit now, even emptying the contents of her stomach in the bathroom toilet, for a few mornings. Nonetheless he knelt beside her and held her golden strands back, thumb caressing the back of her neck, as his eyebrows remained drawn together in concern. 

At some point maybe he'd be able to convince Rose to let him check her out (no, not in the fun way) give her a medical examination, but so far she's been adamant in pushing his hand away and ceasing his attempts, stating that she'll be fine and it's a just a bad douse of a virus she can't seem to shake. Stubborn, Rose Tyler. 

He was just debating a thoroughly thought out plan, wondering if he could simply snog Rose Tyler, stunning her long enough to produce a stethoscope and some cotton swabs; when -- as if signalled for her queue, a very flushed pink and yellow girl stalks into his lab, whirling around to lock the door behind her, before walking up towards him hurriedly. Quite honestly she looked as if she'd seen a ghost (and oh yes he would know, he'd seen her witness one quite a number of times) and it's instant; his reaction. The way in which he seems to just fall forward, a man guided by the beat of his single heart, to instantly cradle her against his chest. 

However much to his surprise, Rose has taken quite a few steps back, not allowing him to touch her just yet, and therefore no longer present in his orbit. Rose starts to shake her head silently, soft brown eyes wide with blatant astonishment, a slight anguish and a subtle gleam of ... joy? "Rose, what's goi--" 

But he doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence, (which he often noted was an reoccurring theme when he came to Rose Tyler) because she's suddenly riffling through her bag, pink tongue poking out from between her lips in concentration as she pulls out five separate little plastic zip-lock bags, all containing the same looking metal stick. 

... What? Why would Rose have five pregnancy tests in her bag? Why was she rushing over here to show him these? Why were they all positive, and why was she now smiling so god damn wide, that if he weren't so damn puzzled he'd be beaming along with her, her eyes already brimming with something that sparkling against the light and w--

Ooooh. 

[lancashiresassarchive]

"Do we really have to spend Christmas with them?"

Send one of the following for my Muse’s reaction.

She is covered. She’s actually and properly covered in flour, and more than likely other ingredients. It’s not the first time and she’s certain it won’t be the last, but it doesn’t change how covered she is. She’s going to have to change before they leave. But she doesn’t care. Being covered while baking, it gives her a sense of accomplishment. It makes her feel as though she’s going to succeed because she’s trying her absolute hardest. And, in it’s own way; it helps her to feel closer to her mum. Sure to anyone else that might sound silly, and she’d never dare say it out loud, but it’s still a nice thought to have.

But she’s getting distracted, again. That seems to be happening to her more and more these days. Truth is, she blames him. He’s always prattling on, about so many different things, she can hardly make sense of it all. And by the time she finally catches up to something he’s said, he’s moved on at least three other topics. Of course, she wouldn’t really have it any other way. She might tell him otherwise but she likes that he keeps her on her toes. There’s never a dull moment and they never exactly run out of things to talk about.

                                      Still, she wishes he could try to be a little less rude.

“Doctor,” she starts. She’s trying to keep the amusement off her lips, but she fears she’s failing. She isn’t amused. She’s annoyed. No, she’s not really annoyed. But she can at least pretend, just for a moment. She has explained this how many times over? Artie would be crushed. He looks up to the Time Lord. And he’s always more fascinated than the last time over something new he’s learned about space. He always has a new question to throw at the man that knows everything.

And, she supposes, she feels guilty. She misses the Maitlands. They have a new nanny, someone to watch over the kids and make sure they’re taken care of, and she has her new teaching job. But she misses them all the same. After spending over a year with them, she grew more attached than she could have ever expected. She grew to love them almost as if they were her own blood. Angie might have been a headache and a half some days, but she didn’t love her any less. Spending Christmas with them, it just felt right.

“Yes! Promised Artie we’d stop by. ‘nd I told Mr Maitland I’d bring dessert.” She pauses, turns to look at the mess she’s made in the process and finally lets out a small laugh. “If y’ get that bored, you’re welcome to pop off for a bit. Just make sure you come back in five minutes, not five days.” There’s another small laugh, but it’s only pushed out to mask how she’s really feeling. She can only hope that he doesn’t notice. “Now, quit lookin’ at me like that. I need y’r help with this part.”

Clara wonders if he’ll actually leave. Part of her really hopes he won’t. Spending Christmas without him feels about as wrong as spending it without the Maitlands. But she could never force him to stay. With a life like his, the universe at his fingertips — she understands why he can never sit still.

[lancashiresassarchive]

"I won’t let you give up."

Send one for my muse’s reaction. 

There’s more than a fair share of tears clouding her vision. She’s actually surprised they haven’t started to properly roll down her cheeks yet, but each blink dampens her lashes a bit more. Still, she’s not sure what’s worse — the fact that she’s crying or that she doesn’t know what’s come over her. She was fine. She was perfectly fine, after everything she’s seen and done, she’s been born, lived and died more times than she can count. And she’s okay with that.

                          Or at least, she thought she was.

But she’s on the verge of being a blubbering mess. She’s muttering something about giving up. The only thing that could have possibly triggered her melt down is everything she’s been through — right?

She’s glad to have him. He might not have the chin that she’s used to. Or wear a cute little bow tie. But he’s still the same man. She can see it, even through her tears, when she looks him in the eye. They aren’t as old, and they don’t carry the same weight. Maybe, just maybe they carry more. It’s all so fresh in his mind. And they hold the one thing that she’s looking for. Compassion that lets her know this is a man she can trust, with everything she has.

"Thought it was my job to save you, Doctor.”