ALL 👏🏾 OF 👏🏾 THEM 👏🏾

9:01 Deep Breath // 10:01 The Pilot

im gonna watch dr. who in chronological order by the time period they travel to

Pearlmethyst Week 2019 (Oct 27th - Nov 2nd)

Day 1 - “Independent Together” Day 2 - “There We Were, Here We Are” Day 3 - “Blanket” Day 4 - “Free Day” Day 5 - “Happy Halloween!” Day 6 - “Making Music” Day 7- “Future”

A bit late uploading this here as I wanted to group them all together but just finished off the last couple paintings recently. Feels good to have them all done!

Clara meets Romana 2 please?

“Nice hat,” Clara said casually, plonking herself down in the only free seat in the courtyard of the library; one that just happened to be beside a blonde-haired woman with a straw boater perched on the back of her head at a jaunty angle. “Come here often?”

The blonde-haired woman looked over and seemed to do a double take. “What in Rassilon’s name are you doing here?” she hissed, looking scandalised by Clara’s mere presence. “The Great Library of Alexandria?! Are you mad?!”

“Are you?” Clara levelled, quirking an eyebrow in confusion. “Because I can assure you, I’m quite sane, but that hat? That hat is not sane.”

“It keeps the sun off,” the stranger said haughtily. “Why are you here?”

“To read the books. Not to cause trouble, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Now, Doctor, I know-”

“Wait,” Clara frowned. “I’m not… no, you’ve got your wires crossed. I’m not the Doctor, I’m the Teacher.”

The stranger’s face passed through several expressions, before settling on polite embarrassment. “Ah,” she said meekly. “My apologies. I’m Romanadvoratrelundar.”

PLEASE READ. WILL NOT HURT TO AND FORWARD. Kids are putting Drano, tin foil, and a little water in plastic drink bottles and capping it up - leaving it on lawns, in mail boxes, in gardens, on driveways etc. just waiting for you to pick it up intending to put it in the rubbish, but you’ll never make it!!!

If the bottle is picked up, and the bottle is shaken even just a little - in about 30 seconds or less it builds up enough gas which then explodes with enough force to remove some your extremities. The liquid that comes out is boiling hot as well. Don’t pick up any plastic bottles that may be lying in your yards or in the gutter, etc. Pay attention to this. A plastic bottle with a cap. A little Drano. A little water. A small piece of foil. Disturb it by moving it; and BOOM!! No fingers left and other serious effects to your face, eyes, etc. Please ensure that everyone that may not have email access are also informed of this. 

Snopes confirms.

Hi, could you do one where Bill and Missy get stranded somewhere and have to wait patiently together for the Doctor to return for them?

“Right,” Bill shifted from foot to foot, partly fearful for her life and partly fearful of dying an immediate and fatal gay death on the spot due to, well, the general proximity of one very attractive and very dangerous Time Lady. “I’m just going to… wait over here.”

She tried to sidle towards the far side of the viewing gallery, but found her way impeded by Missy. “Now, dearie,” the Time Lady purred, cocking her head to the side and pouting in an overly exaggerated manner. “Don’t look so frightened, I’m not going to bite. Unless you ask very nicely.”

Bill turned a violent shade of maroon, blushing like an idiot as she fought to remember how to elucidate something, anything, by way of response. “I…” she managed after a moment, her voice oddly strangled. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Sure?” Missy tipped her a wink. “I can be so much fun.”

“Sure,” Bill squeaked. “I’ll uh. I’ll just be. Yeah.”

Oh god, she prayed, edging away from Missy’s grasp. Doctor, please hurry. I might die a very gay death otherwise.

Her tea is cold and the cat hasn’t been scratched since Heather left for work six hours ago, but forty-seven student papers are graded and ready to be sent back to the despairing arms of their creators. She checks them over one more time and takes a deep breath. “Sending in three…two…one…and done!” Bill slams the button with more force than a casual observer might think warranted, then startles out of her chair as a wispy figure materializes behind her.

“Heather! Thought you had work all day today.”

“Yes, but every writer has her process. You know me…I can’t stay in one place too long. Unless,” Heather adds, shaking her curls, “my wife is in that place.”

Bill chuckles, tilting her chair back to look Heather in the face. “Kiss?”

“Always,” Heather says, and bends down. Their lips brush for a moment, greeting and affirmation in one.

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