(Source: lizsexual)

(Source: gatiss)

gallifreyburning:

allrightfine:

It’s his own fault he’s not allowed to be there.

She’s at a shoot for Rolling Stone — a look at successful women in the industry with a photo spread of them re-visiting their “roots.”

Donna’s had been on Monday, a business suit that cost less than the belts she wears now and a generic office building. There were actual people working, shuffling papers, and answering phones, and Donna behind a computer, ready to type away as the fastest temp in Chiswick.

Rose and the Doctor had tagged along — Rose to see what she’d gotten herself into and the Doctor for, well, who knows what motivates the Doctor to do anything?

They’d been setting it up for an hour, lights positioned just right, Donna’s hair fixed and make up done, and they’re just getting ready to shoot when the Doctor’s voice rings out.

“But if you buy three, you get them cheaper! This is simple maths!”

Rose turns in slow motion to the sight, the Doctor reclining in an office chair, feet propped on the desk and phone to his ear. A confused-looking bloke in a rumpled button-down stands to the side and Rose can see a picture of him with three small children in a frame next to the monitor. His desk, then.

The Doctor speaks again, the noise audible over the din of the office, “Hold on a second, mate, let me see what we can do for you!”

He sets the phone aside, not bothering to put the call on hold, and begins banging on the keyboard at random.

He grabs the phone again, “How’s free sound? Complimentary? On the house! Gratis.” The Doctor peers at his nails, buffing them against his shirt while the caller apparently considers the offer.

“Brilliant!” He shouts in response. “We’ll have them shipped overnight delivery!”

And he hangs the phone up.

The art director charges from the camera, heading right for the Doctor, and the office manager is hot on his heels.

The Doctor is escorted out of the building and he greets the paparazzi that are waiting with a grin, “Made my first sale today, boys!”

He is not invited to Rose’s shoot.

Instead, he’d gotten up early, packing her a lunch and kissing her sweetly on the cheek as he saw her off that morning.

Hours later and she’s finally gotten a break, settling in with her bag lunch and looking every bit the 19-year-old from the Powell Estate she once was.

She is sitting a bit out of the way, she’s had enough of being fussed over — makeup and hair and wardrobe, she just needs a moment alone.

There’s an enormous craft services table, but Rose bypassed it in favor of the lunch the Doctor packed for her. She’s certain it’s going to be a sandwich bag full of pickles and a few squares of jello, or something else equally as ridiculous, but she’s determined to eat it all the same. The fact that he’d spent twenty minutes in the kitchen all by himself, insisting she stay in the bedroom so he could finish making this for her, is darling enough to make it worth the wait.

Digging into the bag, she finds a turkey and cheese sandwich (with just the right amount of mustard — he’s been paying attention) and a bag of crisps.

And there, nestled underneath all the food, is a clapper toy, a little plastic arm and hand. When Rose shakes it back and forth and it comes to life, rattling loudly. 

Along with the clapper toy is a note in the Doctor’s angular scrawl: Give the girl a hand! A round of applause for my Rose, who started at the Powell Estate and made her way to the stars.

(Source: lookbackseeforward)

“There’s the five of us now. Mum, Dad, Mickey… and the baby.”
“You’re not?”
“Yeah.”
“Pregnant. Okay. Wow. Well…”

(Source: myvintagelove)

(Source: captainmartinducreff)

somethingofthewolf:

#PEOPLE ASSUME MY DOCTOR AND ROSE FEELS ARE A STRICT PROGRESSION OF CAUSE TO EFFECT #BUT ACTUALLY #FROM A NON-LINEAR NON-SUBJECTIVE VIEWPOINT #IT’S MORE LIKE A BIG BALL OF WIBBLY LIP FEELEY WEEL-Y YOU ALL FUCKING SUCK FOR POSTING THESE THINGS… STUFF 

(Source: gallifreyfieldsforever)

anaisforthewin:

lastofthetimeladies:

whooves:

#god he’s so in love with her

god i am going to punch you in the face for tags like that cate

#Do you think when Ten was standing here looking at her#Part of his enormous Time Lord brain was cataloguing#All the things he would be willing to give up#To trade places with his metacrisis self? (gallifreyburning)

Stop

 #The rest of his enormous Time Lord brain is cataloguing #her smile #her eyes #the way she turns from and to and from him again like she’s already in love #every tiny movement she makes and every breath #every sound she makes #when her voice catches and when it gives #and the sound of her footsteps walking away from him and toward him all at once.#Because this is his last chance to see her. #Ever. #And even if he were to see her again #it wouldn’t be the same #not in a new body #not with a new him. #so he catalogues every bit of her he can see or hear or feel or sense. #Because she’s the reason he was made the way he was and lived the life he did. #She’s the reason he loved so hard and lost so much. #He doesn’t want to go - he doesn’t want to lose the part of him that is HER.

(Via lastofthetimeladies)

MY HEARTTTTTTTTTT 

(Source: aintborntipycal)

“the last cheerful moment we cherished together is what I choose to remember.”

eatmypatronus:

And I started to walk,

pretty soon I will run,

and I’ll be running back to you.

‘Cause I followed my star,

that’s what you are.