thelethallunatic:

l or na did friggin tag me on her sidebar and i jus t

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( muted vulcan screams!! )

Huzzah

Ly Lyn ok

shared on April 18 with 1 note via thelethallunatic

PSA: Just because it’s been a week or two that I haven’t replied to our thread does not mean I’m ignoring you. I am just such an incredibly slow roleplayer. I promise your replies and starters are in my drafts, waiting to be worked on. And they will get worked on. Please, never think that I’m bored with our thread because I’m not.

shared on April 17 with 73 notes via nikkikatie
myblogette:

Dying star surrounded by caudlrouns of gas in the shape of butterfly wings (read more).
Photo Credit: NASA, ESA, and the Hubble SM4 ERO Team

myblogette:

Dying star surrounded by caudlrouns of gas in the shape of butterfly wings (read more).

Photo Credit: NASA, ESA, and the Hubble SM4 ERO Team

1.04 Phantom Traveler

thedoctorwhocares:

[He looked away from the book he was reading as he heard her voice. It was about 4:30 P.M. Someone was sleeping in ]

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" Oh Yes, that sounds quite nice.

        ” Maybe fish fingers and custard, with a fruit ?

"Sounds good!" She bellowed down the hallway.

Not caring about what she was wearing ( a disgusting nightgown that looked like a curtain) she padded through the corridors finally reaching him with a yawn.

"Get your apron on then—" She smirked, waiting for a reaction.

thelethallunatic:

 

       A laugh would be given; that kind of laugh that vibrated through her veins and almost urging tears to fall from black lashes. Even thought it was but a brief one, it left her lungs on fire and she tried to remember the last time she had sincerely laughed. Must’ve been a while ago— but not too long. She remembered laughing with Amy. And Amy wasn’t exactly an o l d friend, was she?

                            (It probably was good that she did not have a clue about the entire “Rory waiting for Amy”-thing. The possibility of her falling quiet and staring as if someone had punched her just a little too hard after realising, ah, Amy must be just a l i t t l e older than she had expected—

                      somehow, anyway. Wibbly-Wobbly and all.

                                           —would be rather…awkward. That’s why she’d never ask the Doctor about Amy if she was to meet him. And she also definitely did not want to think about Amy being lost somewhere in space or fighting aliens and running and running — oh God, running and being in danger—

                          Here was the point she, or rather her thoughts, actually fell quiet and tried to focus on Amy’s words.)

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       “You haven’t mucked things up with me yet and I believe I’m quite easy to piss off. And you don’t necessarily have to tell me you love me — although it’s always lovely to hear. I just assume that you’re just a little bit like me and call those you like s t u p i d.”

Yet? She didn’t want to think about what she meant by that. It was probably unintentional, she probably hadn’t even thought about it, but it sent Amy’s mind into overdrive, looking into the hidden depths, that probably weren’t even there in the first place, causing a small frown to run across her features.

She nodded, Lil was right there. They had their differences. A whole lot, when she thought about it, but it was a nice similarity, something she picked up from Lilith herself, actually.

She found it strange, and rather sweet how the more you spent time with people, the more you picked up their mannerisms, words strung along the way. It had happened and she’d barely even realized it.

"Christ. you’re right." She smiled, finally, letting out a small bark of laughter, a hand skimming through her hair.

"Anyway—How are things going with you? Haven’t heard much recently."

She wondered whether she shouldn’t have asked, but it’s out now, and she can’t take it back.

doctorwhos50th:

"Tell her she'll fall in love with a man who'll wait two thousand years to keep her safe"

thedoctorwhocares

She slips out of bed with a bang, but it does nothing to dent her enthusiasm. It’s one of the rare times Amelia Pond wakes with a smile on her face, not shuffling around like a sleep deprived zombie.

Sliding out of her room, her head peeks out of the door, quickly glancing around the corridor with a raised eyebrow;

"Rags? Oi! Any chance of breakfast?" 

And by that, she means him making it for her. She’s feeling particularly boisterous today, ready to stir up some kind of trouble.

shared on April 16 with 3 notes
shared on April 16 with 46 notes via sirelric
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