always doomsday

However small we are, we should always fight for what we believe to be right. And I don’t mean fight with the power of our fists or the power of our swords…I mean the power of our brains and our thoughts and our dreams.
And as small and quiet and unimportant as our fighting may look, perhaps we might all work together…and break out of the prisons of our own making. Perhaps we might be able to keep this fierce and beautiful world of ours as free for all of us as it seemed to be on that blue afternoon of my childhood.
—  How to Speak Dragonese, Cressida Cowell
tick, tick, tick,

This is for @leiascully “Rest” challenge


  If you really had to explain it to someone, you’d tell them it was akin to having a doomsday clock in your chest.  Yes, that’s it.  A doomsday clock always counting down, except you’ve never been able to see the numbers.  Your own personal apocalypse waiting in the wings.

                                                     tick, tick, tick, 

  The first night you ever heard it’s nagging little hum was after your abduction and subsequent return.  Finally back in your own home, out of the hospital, tucked safely in your own bed.  As you lay there, sleep brushing the edges of your fingertips, you felt it switch on inside you.  What if they came back for you?  What would happen to you?  What would happen to Mulder?

                                                    tick, tick, tick,

  Every night your bones aching, begging for the release of a peaceful slumber, but it would never come.  Crumpled sheets and discarded blankets became your reality.  Plagued by the unknown of the days ahead, and the chaos they would bring.  The next great tragedy lurking just around the corner.

                                                    tick, tick, tick,

  Even on nights you spent wrapped up around Mulder, his fish tank bubbling in the other room, the pads of his fingers pressed into your sides, still you could feel it inside of you.

                                                     tick, tick, tick,

  Then Mulder was taken, abducted, disappeared.  You left all alone, his child growing inside you.  Something beautiful, a miracle surely this would be cause for the ever present doom to subside.

                                                     tick, tick, tick, 

  Against all logic Mulder was returned to you.  You were going to be a family.  The three of you, live out the rest of your days free of conspiracy.  No more alien bounty hunters, no more shadow men trying to pull you astray.  Just the three of you and your own little piece of the American dream.

                                                     tick, tick, tick, 

  Then Mulder had to run.

                                                     tick, tick, tick,

  Then you had to let William go.

                                                     tick, tick, tick,

  On those nights alone in your apartment, having no idea where Mulder was or if he was safe, curled up in the corner of your couch because you couldn’t bring yourself to remove William’s crib from your room, you’d think this is it.  I have nothing left to lose.  You wouldn’t even try to sleep, wouldn’t even deign to close your eyes.  You didn’t deserve the peace it would bring, didn’t deserve solace, not even for a moment.  You’d lay awake silent tears rushing out of the corners of your eyes, and make yourself listen to it.

                                                     tick, tick, tick,

  Run Mulder, we have to run.  Was there ever going to be any other way?  Tangled limbs in musty hotel rooms.  Strangled declarations of devotion.  Suffocation by the one name neither of you dared speak.  Dyed hair and dirty t-shirts.  Dank bathrooms where you’d press yourself against the cold tile floor in the middle of the night.  Mulder holding your hand, coaxing you back into the bed, telling you that you just needed sleep.  Instead you’d hover just outside of wakefulness, wrapping your arms tighter and tighter around him.

                                                     tick, tick, tick, 

  Finally a house, a permanent place for the two of you.  Yes he may still technically have been a wanted man, but you were sure anyone that mattered  had stopped looking for either of you some time ago.  So why would you find yourself pausing mid-sentence or stopping halfway up the stairs.  Constantly followed by a pesky feeling, like you’d kept forgetting to pay the electric bill.  Even enveloped inside Mulder’s heavy arms, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, you’d feel it. 

                                                    tick, tick, tick,

  Then they came looking for him.

                                                     tick, tick, tick,

  They just wanted his help and of course he wanted yours.  You swore you’d never go back to that life.  Never let him swan dive off that cliff ever again.  You saw him succumbing to the darkness, could feel him slipping away.

                                                      tick, tick, tick,

  Now you lay in bed, the FBI’s case closed, their vendetta against Mulder absolved.  It’s finally just the two of you.  No need to run, no hovering phantom, no cryptic threat.  You hold your breath and listen… nothing.  Nothing but the feel of Mulder’s chest against your cheek, the whoosh of his breath as it leaves his lips.  You rub your hand against your breast bone confused.  Waiting for that familiar sound to appear, that familiar feeling to keep you up.  For the first time in 14 years there is silence.  You can feel your bones become soft readying to release your body into a glorious dream-filled state.  Perhaps you think, it wasn’t a doomsday clock after all.  Perhaps it was a countdown clock to your happiness.  Your lids grow heavy as you nestle in closer against Mulder.  The only thought filling your mind before succumbing to a peaceful slumber: Rest, now I can finally rest.

evilqueenofgallifrey  asked:

prompt: Bill/Missy, in whatever way tickles your fancy because I'm not fussy

Bill/Missy not safe for work etc ~650 words

put fic prompt into prompt receptacle


Bill doesn’t know where to start, dealing with this. The thing in the vault being an alien; the alien in the vault having been there for the better part of the century; the alien in the vault for the better part of a century being a genocidal maniac cartoon villain; the cartoon villain being the Doctor’s ex (she’s really not into sexualizing the Doctor, he’s her mentor and pseudo-grandpa, just no); the Doctor’s ex (ugh) being…fit.

Like, absolutely gorgeous. Compelling and charismatic and terrifying. Missy sashays through the vault doors and Bill has never felt gayer. Like, rainbow-firework levels of gay, here.

“I can sort of see why you’ve been harboring an intergalactic criminal,” Bill says.

Keep reading

8

Behind the scenes of 42 - Part Two

Excerpts from Jason Arnopp’s article in DWM #383

During our 42 set-visit on 26 January 2007, we observe Scene 5d, in which McDonnell, Ashton, and Lerner attempt to subdue an agonized Korwin in the Medicentre. The Doctor and Martha run in to take charge, then run out again. It takes four hours to shoot all the angles.

“I really want you to struggle and give them a hard time,” director Graeme Harper tells Matthew Chambers, playing Korwin. “You’re monumentally stronger than them.”

“At least you get to lie down,” laughs Michelle Collins, playing McDonnell.

We can’t help but notice that, between takes, the Stasis Unit display to the left of the medical bench becomes a Windows XP hillside and sky. Why, it’s not a real Stasis Unit at all. Are the team trying to make dupes outta us?

Between takes, David examines a table of surgical implements (“I wonder whether any of these have ever been in people,” he ponders), before approaching Graeme with a suggestion for improving the scene. “I wonder if I need to force McDonnell away a bit more. At the moment, it’s all a bit ’Allons-y, off you go, leave your husband, forget him!" 

Other parts of this set: [ one ] [ three ]
[ Masterlist of Doctor Who Behind-the-Scenes posts ]

"As a god, I was the very definition of need-to-know, but it was typical of Artemis to keep something like this to herself. She was such a doomsday prepper, always hiding things from other gods like stashed of supplies, emergency bunkers, and small nation-states"

Apollo clearly didn’t believe in the existence of Monaco, Nauru, and the Maldives, among other small nations, for years, and IS just shifting the blame on Artemis

2

“You can only chase after one of us.”

Things My Fandoms Will Collectively Agree On

Doctor Who:

1. Doomsday is ALWAYS too soon
2. Bowties are cool
3. As well as fezzes
4. OldWho is just as good as NuWho
5. Fish fingers and custard is a good combination
6. Don’t blink
7. The theme song is our melody
8. The TARDIS sound is beautiful 9.Converse is the best shoe brand out there 10. Don’t skip nine

Sherlock:

1. Johnlock is probably canon
2. The Reichenback Fall is too soon
3. Mrs. Hudson is a sweet cinammon roll
4. Mycroft loves his umbrella
5. Anderson in season 3 is the fandom in a nutshell
6. We are insane

Supernatural:

1. Some of us agrees that John Winchester was a bad father
2. Bobby is a great father
3. Always give Dean pie
4. Sam is a moose
5. The greatest insult of all time is assbutt
6. Adam is still in hell
7. Almost everyone in the spn fandom ships either destiel or wincest
8. Sam’s hair is fabulous
9. Dean Winchester is a disney princess
10. Cas has the bluest eyes to ever blue

Harry Potter:

1. Umbridge is worse than Voldemort
2. Minerva Mcgonagall is badass
3. Molly Weasley is badass as well
4. Book Ginny is fucking awesome compared to Movie Ginny
5. All deaths are too soon (cept voldemort’s)
6. “HARRY DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE?!?!?!??!?!?!!?!!?!?!?” Dumbledore said, calmly.

Phandom:

1. Never show them phan related things
2. Never tag them in phan related things
3. Never ask them their sexuality or if phan is real
4. Phil Lester is a sweet, sweet cinammon roll
5. Dan bottoms
6. Dan is Phil Trash #01 and no one can take his place
7. Dan Howell is absolute meme trash
8. You could put Dan in a room with any celebrity and he’d still be staring at Phil
9. They need to get a fucking dog already
10. 2009 was a glorious year
11. 2012 was a terrible year
12. 2022 is their wedding year
13. Phil’s eyes are so blue you could go swimming in them

All fandoms:

Don’t spoil anything/No spoilers

3

Tenth doctor + just an image

2

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars,
And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.”
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
–Pablo Neruda

Hogwarts Preference #6

Maturing

Michael: The older you got, now in the tail end of your third years at Hogwarts, it seemed that Michael and you had drifted apart. He was getting more and more enamored with quidditch and hanging out with the boys, and you were focused more on your studies and the things that Hermione had to say. With the summertime fast approaching, everyone in the common room was cramming for exams, and you were about to pull out your hair because Hermione was going crazy and getting on your last nerve. Because of this, you’d stuck mostly to your bedroom because she was only ever in there to sleep, hardly leaving the library unless it got too crowded and she had to come back here. You had no idea where Michael was; probably horsing around with Ron and Harry, you thought. 

When you felt like your eyes were about to fall out and your back was starting to ache, you decided that you could use a little study break. You’d been going to about three hours now, and you needed a walk around the castle because it got to be too late to go anywhere. So you donned a jumper and slipped on your shoes, making your way down the stairwell that was crowded with girls looking for peace, but the ruckus from the common room carried all throughout the tower. You dodged paper flying and ignored the murmurs from everyone around you, spotting Hermione with her hands in her hair and her nose in a book. You slipped out the painting, deciding to walk to the library and back. 

When you got there, you browsed for a few minutes before you heard your name being called by a familiar voice, and then you whirled around. Michael, purple haired, sleepy looking Michael with his eyes hopeful and his tie crooked was sitting at a table alone. You couldn’t help but grin, and made your way quickly over to him, plopping in the empty seat beside him. Up close he looked worn down and exhausted, and you felt kind of bad. “Hey, Mikey.” You said, running your fingers through his soft hair. He just closed his eyes and laid his head on the table, papers crinkling under him. “Hey, Y/N. Thank God you’re here. I was about to go nutters.” He said, and you laughed, leaning your cheek on your hand. It grew silent between you, the two of your just absorbing being in each others presence. It was only when students started leaving and the two of you were left nearly alone that he spoke, scaring you because you thought he was asleep. “Missed you.” He said softly, and your heart warmed as your cheeks did, and you ducked your chin under his soft green gaze. “I missed you too.” You whispered back, immediately vowing to not be without each other any more. 

Calum: You pulled your sweater on over your shirt, frowning down at the tightness of it on your bust. You’d been maturing both physically and mentally, and it definitely showed. You were bigger in the chest and bum than most of the other girls in your year, but it was starting to become a hassle. That meant new clothes that would be difficult to afford, different outfits so you didn’t look like a hoochie or a whale. It also meant breakouts and makeup and everything was starting to change, and it didn’t go unnoticed in the group of guys that were all older than you, and your only friends. 

Sighing, you unbuttoned the button on your trousers so they weren’t squeezing the mess out of you, and vowed to learn to sow to save money. Luckily you weren’t getting taller, so they didn’t look too bad, only too tight. The common room was mostly empty with students having already gone to breakfast, so you made your way through the cool corridors and into the Great Hall, immediately spotting the twins, Lee, Luke, and Calum sitting around the middle, horsing around. You sulked over to them, your eyes catching with Fred’s first as you dropped onto the bench beside Calum. “Wow, look who finally joined us…” Calum began, but trailed off as he looked over to you, his eyes skimming down your figure and landing right on your chest. You were oblivious as you reached for the cinnamon buns, greeting the others as he kept staring. “Yes, well, my wardrobe seems to enjoy malfunctioning in the mornings. I think I need to buy new clothes.” You said, spooning eggs onto your plate as well. “No. I think they’re alright.” Calum said, then took a breath and turned back toward the table, shooting the guys a look. They were well aware of the fact that he had the hots for you, but he thought you were too good for him, so he made them swear not to tell. That didn’t stop the snickers and laughter from them as he tried to get his breathing under control. “Well, I mean, the shirts can be kept, I guess, but the trousers are far too tight and uncomfortable.” You said, shoveling food the way they’d taught you how. Calum felt the breath woosh out of him again, and he couldn’t help but stare at you again. If he thought you were beautiful three years ago, you were something from Heaven now. 

Luke: As time went on at school, you and Luke grew closer, and your circle of friends even expanded a little. To about four, occasionally a few more. Luke had adopted two boys named Calum and Ashton, while you had met a girl named Susan. The two of you had taken to giggling in the corridors when Luke was in detention–because of the guys, he swears–but you didn’t mind her at all. She was interested in the same things as you, she was a loyal girl, and she wasn’t a gossip or a judgmental person. She listened and gave good advice. She was also quite keen on boys, which wasn’t really your thing right now, but it was nice to hear her stories to distract you from all of the…drama, that seemed to follow you around. 

You and Susan were both alone as you walked through the crowded hallways together, and you were dreading this class because while you loved to learn, Defense Against the Dark Arts was a sticky subject for you, and you had the class with your brother. It was like at least one class was always doomsday for you, and he made sure. The only thing saving you at this point, as it always was, was Luke. 

You slid in the seat beside him, returning his warm smile as Susan trailed off in her rant about some fourth year named Ced with a nice rear end. Luke slung his arm over the back of your seat as he always did, and leaned a bit closer when Malfoy and his goons walked through the doors. “How was your day so far? Feel like I haven’t seen you all day.” he said, flicking his blonde fringe out his eyes. “I’ve been good, actually, it’s been a pretty good day.” You told him, honestly meaning it. He gave you a slow smile, and then Professor Lupin–proving to be one of your favorites–finally took his place at the head of the room. It was only halfway through his lecture that you felt something hitting you in the back of the head, so you turned, expecting your brother but not seeing him anywhere. That didn’t stop you from hearing him, sniggering into his palm as he balled up something else. Catching you staring, he gave you a wave of his fingers. You turned back around, burning red from your cheeks to your ears, and wishing you’d just disappear. It wasn’t until a stray one hit Luke that he looked up from his notes, and saw your state, and that was enough for him. 

He leaned back around you, locking eyes with Draco, narrowing his own blue ones. The laughter stopped, but he wasn’t finished. “Knock it off, arsehat. Grow up and mature a little bit. Must be a hassle when your ‘blood-traitor’ sister is a much better witch then you could ever dream to be.” He spoke softly, but his tone chilled you, but warmed you inside. Lupin trailed off, and you stared straight ahead, but brought one hand to Luke’s under the table. You wouldn’t dare look at Draco, but judging on the smiles on peoples’ faces–including Lupin’s–it was one to see. “Everything alright, boys?” He asked, hands clasped and fighting a smile. You did yourself, Luke squeezing your fingers before turning back around. “No, professor. Everything’s alright." 

Ashton: You were close to tears as you stared in the mirror in your shared bedroom alone. Taking deep breaths, you smoothed down the fabric of your sweater, tugging at your jeans. Charlie had recently gotten into a bit of a money issue in Romania, so your whole family was suffering as all of you were growing, the end of the school year approaching. Your shirts had started to get smaller, tighter, along with your trousers, that were now just barely covering your ankles and were so tight on your belly it was a it hard to breathe. Your shoes were tight, your hair was a mess today because of the heat, and you were about to give up on classes and cry into your pillow because you were the only one that was suffering from this. At least everyone had hand-me-downs; you were the eldest girl, and you had to deal with too-small clothes as Ginny grew. It wasn’t her fault, but you were a bit envious. You were insecure, and it was hard to walk around, knowing that everyone judged you. 

Just when your lower lip began to tremble, Hermione made her way into the room, calling your name. "Oh, there you are. Ashton was asking me if–are you alright, Y/N?” She asked, and you swiped under your eyes even if it was dry, nodding, tugging at the hem of your sweater. Her brown eyes were full of concern, and you gave up, slumping down onto your bed. “No. I just…I look horrendous. My clothes are too small and I look ridiculous, and I don’t know what do because I can’t go down there looking like this. My boobs are stretching this top too tight, my legs are too long for these trousers, and I just…” You trialed off as she sat beside you, wrapping an arm around you. “You know we don’t care, as your friends. But if you are that sad, and I hate seeing you sad, then you can borrow a pair of my jeans. I’m taller than you anyways, so they’ll fit.” She said, and you looked at her with big, hopeful eyes, and she smiled. “Really?” You asked, and sh nodded. “'Course. Now, c'mon before Ashton goes sliding again.” She said, and you giggled as she tossed you a pair of trousers. 

You descended with her, giggling about something that the boys were oblivious too, Ashton jumping to his feet when he saw you. “Finally! I was about to accio you and get you down here.” He said, and you just smiled at him. “Sorry, I was having a bit of a wardrobe malfunction.” You told him, sliding between them as you all paced toward the Great Hall for lunch. “Girls.” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, and Hermione and you chorused your protests. “Hey! My clothes didn’t fit!” You scolded, thwacking his arm. “Ow!” He laughed, holding the spot, but he was smiling. “I’m growing.” You told him, and he gave you a cheeky smirk, and you knew what was coming. “You look just as short to me.” He teased, always one to point out the height difference. It was your turn to roll your eyes, and he jostled his shoulder against yous. “Will you ever mature and stop with the shorty comments?” You asked, and he stared ahead, poking his bottom lip out as if he were considering. “No. I don’t think so." 

_______________

A/N: Message me and tell me your favorites!! Also, if you have any suggestions for them, then I’ll try to write them in, definitely. I got a few reeeally good ones, and I plan on doing one of them next!! Calum’s are always my favorite, idk.