Pay the Price || Open

In the dim corner of the coffee shop, Clara kept her head low, watching her espresso create a whirlpool in her cup as she twirled the thin, black stirring straw. Choosing to concentrate on that as opposed to drinking it actually proved to be much more therapeutic, though she did take a sip every couple minutes.

Having realized that it’s getting even more difficult to hide her throbbing headaches from the Doctor, she fled to the nearest shop, convincing him that he needs time alone with the TARDIS. The pain typically went away after ignoring it for a while, but lately, it’s been getting worse—and so have the nightmares. As stubborn as she is, of course she doesn’t want to worry him and have him try to fix her; she can perfectly handle that on her own. But this time, she’s afraid that she might just explode. So she had to get away.

Sometimes it’s like I’ve lived a thousand lives in a thousand places.

And she can feel it. Clara splintered herself across time and space, and she remembers it, and she can’t push it away anymore. She’s broken on the outside and empty on the inside. She’s still breaking. And it’s killing her.

It wasn’t long before she shut her eyes tightly, attempting to erase it all from her mind. Gallifrey burning, daleks, cybermen, everything—but didn’t help one bit. Before she realized what she was doing, she hit her cup too hard, knocking it over and spilling it onto her leggings and near someone else’s feet. “Oh, I am so sorry.”

10 months ago on December 20th | J | 3 notes

On your Screwdriver, app it!

10 months ago on December 20th | J | 1,496 notes

Mad Men || Clara and John


John shrugged. “With the, uh, three year hiatus, in the middle, it’s been around five years, give or take a few months. Funny to think that if you cut out the down time, it’s not really been that long…”

He frowned slightly and turned the vegetable he was holding over in his hand. “We worked together for a year and a half, roughly, then three years without him, and then… he came back. From the dead. ‘Course, he wasn’t really dead. Just faked it, the bastard.”

Clara muttered a quick “oh,” furrowing her brow. Then again, coming back from the dead after faking your own demise isn’t the strangest thing she’s ever heard. Still, strange enough to wonder why someone would do such a thing, especially to a friend—or colleague, if they prefer. Something about it sounded suspiciously familiar, as if she’d heard of it before.

Quickly, she did the math in her head. Five years, about a year and a half at the beginning, placing her in uni. She’d taken a few journalism classes at the suggestion of her father, who always marveled at Clara’s curiosity and thought that it’d be the right field of study. To keep up with the news, she’d always read the paper and watch the telly (the internet was never her strong suit to begin with, anyway). That’s probably it, then. That’s why it sounds vaguely familiar.

“That’s right, I heard about it!” Clara searched her memories for the name that plastered itself all over the news that week, desperately trying to remember. She’d read all about it, even. Unintentionally, she digged up thoughts and memories that she’d purposely locked away. They clouded her mind and her judgement and they hurt. Letting out an almost inaudible whimper, she shook her head. “Sorry, what’s his name? The detective.”

10 months ago on December 20th | J | 20 notes

Mad Men || Clara and John


John couldn’t help but grin. “Bossy in a good way, yeah. Said he wouldn’t have gotten as far as he has without her. You’re his impossible girl, then? Did he find you?” 

He thought of the way the Doctor’s face lit when he spoke of her, of the happiness he’d had when speaking of their adventures. He really cares for you, Clara.

“Impossible, yeah. Sounds ‘bout it. Sort’ve found him by accident, though.” She never gave thought to how desperate the Doctor must’ve been searching for her. And for how long?

Clara shook her head. “What about you, then? You and your detective friend. How long’ve you been working together anyway?”

10 months ago on December 18th | J | 20 notes

Total Eclipse of the Heart || Whouffle


"I’m not trying to say I’m invincible," He insisted with a quiet scoff. "I’m just sayin’ that you make me out to be far more of a goof than I am." Quickly, he takes his hands to her face, holding onto her cheeks and leaning down, getting at eye level with the girl. "Okay, no, m’still a bit of a fool. But I do know a bit of what’m doin’—I am 1300 years old.” Standing up straight again, he looked down at her. The year’d been long; and there were times where he nearly hadn’t come back. It became too hard, though, the not knowing. Trenzalore’d taught him that. It was better to know than live in mystery. “No, no,” He quickly retorted, bringing a hand to run through his hair. “If there’s anyone, Clara, anyone, I’ve got confidence in…it’s you. It’s me I haven’t got th’confidence in, I s’pose.”

Do you know what you’re doing?” Clara, the most worried look upon her face, thought long and hard about the Doctor. He’s 1300 years old…or something, god knows how old he really is—so he should know a lot of what he’s doing. Yet, he’s often childish, which is usually endearing, unless it’s life threatening, of course, and makes a lot of educational guesses, not truly knowing what he’s doing. That’s what she thought, at least, but didn’t really start to question it until recent. “You’re destructive. You’ve got confidence in me,” she said, avoiding his eyes. She never did say. “But I’m afraid to have some in you.”

10 months ago on December 17th | J | 34 notes
10 months ago on December 10th | J | 5,258 notes

Mad Men || Clara and John


"Ah! He took me to Babylon. It was fun. Beautiful, really. He was looking for someone. A woman. Told me all about how brilliant she is, loves to cook…"

“Huh. Never thought of Babylon. Guess I’ll make it 102 places to see,” she laughed, thinking about how her seemingly limitless storybook suddenly isn’t big enough. “By any chance, is this woman short, a little bossy, and a tiny bit stubborn? Might’ve been me. Not to say that I’m full of myself and think I’m brilliant, but I do love to cook.”

10 months ago on November 27th | J | 20 notes

Mad Men || Clara and John


The Doctor? The Doctor? 

"Um… Which, which Doctor? Tall, thin, pinstriped suit? Shorter, floppy hair, bowtie? Or are there more of them I haven’t met?"

He’d lowered his voice, glancing about to make sure no one was listening.

"Oh, or, um, if you, you just mean a, a regular doctor…"

Clara tilted her head in surprise. “Bowtie.” These two must go way back sometime, she thought. Before she even arrived in New York in the first place. But if they’ve met before, then why hasn’t the Doctor mentioned any of this? “That makes things easier. Probably. Don’t suppose he’s got an idea, then. Or the one with the hair? And believe it or not, yes, there are more.”

11 months ago on November 10th | J | 20 notes

Mad Men || Clara and John


John smiled. Fond of traveling himself (when he wasn’t sent out to be Sherlock’s errandboy), it was nice to meet another person who enjoyed being out and about.

"You do?" He pulled a card from his wallet and passed it to her. "If, um, if you’re willing to talk to your friend for us, that would be… We need all the help we can get. It just keeps getting harder to tell these families that we’ve got nothing for them…"

“That’s no good,” she frowned, slipping the card into the side pocket of her red satchel. Family is one of the most important things a person can have, and to lose something like that is absolutely…unbearable. “The Doctor can help, I’m sure. Always has a lot on his plate, but I think together he and I make a pretty good team. Like you and your detective friend, maybe.”

11 months ago on November 9th | J | 20 notes

It’s absolutely disgusting! 

11 months ago on November 3rd | J | 951 notes
Tagged as: #self