he's the oncoming storm

Imagine, for a moment, Clara Oswald

Clara Oswald sending a Time Lord, thousands of years old, The Oncoming Storm, out for coffee. And he goes.

Clara Oswald learning to ride a motorbike because riding on the back of Eleven’s was fun, but she could do it so much better on her own.

Clara Oswald gaining access to the Black Archives because her world-saving antics are as renowned as *his*.

Clara Oswald grading papers on the TARDIS while casually putting out the diplomatic fires the Doctor starts on multiple worlds.

Clara Oswald seducing Jane Austen and influencing the character development of Liz Bennett. (Guess who influenced Darcy’s.)

Clara Oswald riding into this world on a leaf and soaring off of it in a TARDIS she shares with yet another woman who was supposed to die thousands of years ago, but who the universe wasn’t ready to live without. 

Originally posted by hirmienworld

🥃 Bourbon and Lavender 🌿

Steel grey eyes looked up to an ever darker slate colored sky as the first few droplets of rain began to fall. The cold water hit Levi’s face before he pulled his newsboy cap he’d stolen a bit lower. With the oncoming storm came a chill and he wondered if it would get cold enough to snow. 

He’d never seen it, but it was something Caroline had told him about often. She said in winter, it covered the whole mountainside where she’d lived in Whitefish Montana, which is where he was now, though he was still in town, and it was just as she’d described to him. 

When she’d been inside the walls with him, he’d wondered just how it was that he’d never heard of this place, or any other that she’d mentioned for that matter…

That mysterious, lion-maned girl from outside the only civilization he’d ever known. They had been so much alike. Both as solid as stone, but both soft in just the right places that seemed to only compliment each other, and fill the spaces the other was lacking. They were made to dance in tandem, just like they did on those late nights tucked away from the rest of the world in his room. 

His mind went from the warm candle light to the cold streets surrounding him as a car honked its horn, splashing a rather murky puddle as it zoomed past, its occupant was probably trying to beat the storm home. 

It had been a long, winding road for Levi to get here, and he hoped it wasn’t for nothing. Hell, he hoped he even had the right time and place. After what he’d seen the past week, he wasn’t so sure anything was impossible anymore. 

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned his collar up and began to head up the mountain, hoping to whatever diety was on this plane, that he was right about this. 

The darker it got, the harder it was to find his way up, but he’d been through worse. The forst here was nothing as dense as….

He pushed the thought away. He didn’t want to remember. He would have to explain it to her later. No point in reliving it twice. 

Rain started pelting harder, and it turned to slush as it fell, signifying the even more drastic drop in temperature the higher he got. 

Finally though, a little, wood cabin came into view with smoke rolling from the chimney, and he felt a pang of sorrow settle into his chest. It was just as she’d described to him. If he was wrong….

Swallowing thickly, his boots crunched through the fallen, dead leaves as he made his way to the porch. His heart was hammering in his chest, though his hand was steady as he knocked solidly on the door before him. 

Without realizing it, he held his breath, waiting to hear anything, even the slightest shuffle from the other side of the door.


Love and Methods Part 4; Sherlock x Reader

Requested by wariswooon: So I’m sending in the request in a week hoping it makes you easier to finish all of them c; Could you make another part of ‘love and methods’ where Sherlock and reader attend John and Mary’s wedding, dance together and accidentally start a talk about their own marriage, please? I hope that your school days go well too. Thank you

Keep reading

Just think about all that time on Darillium. Twelve tells her about Clara.

He can’t remember, sure. But he tells her the same story that he tells Clara about it, that she was so important to him that he went to Gallifrey at the end of the universe to save her, and that he had to wipe his memory to keep from being all “The Oncoming Storm” to keep her alive.

Then he tells River something he’s ashamed of, that he’s avoided telling her before now. He tells her about the time he did the same thing, but that time, he got it wrong.

He tells her about Donna Noble.

itsalways1895tome-deactivated20  asked:

Who's the better lover, 9 or 10? I think most people would say 10 but I think 9 would be. He's older, more experienced, confident and passionate. What do you think?

I’m sure both would be satisfactory lovers for Rose but 9 is the Oncoming Sex Storm (nsfw link). He has the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing going for him instead of that rude, tall, brown, and dorky thing going on.

Rose hasn’t told me who she prefers. She wants to stay “neutral” and insists both “have their own skills”. I think she secretly prefers 9 though because as they say you never forget your first Doctor.

And let’s talk about Peter Freakin’ Capaldi for just a few moments. From an uneven start last season, he has become a force of nature. He truly is the oncoming storm. What other actor before could take a few minutes in the first part of an episode to directly address the audience on a time travel concept while playing Beethoven’s 5th Symphony on an electric guitar, even going so far as to show his shortness over having to explain something to us by coldly telling us to Google the “bootstrap paradox.” Sure, actors have broken the fourth wall all the way back to Hartnell, but Capaldi is an aggressive, impossibly energetic presence from the moment “Before the Flood” starts.

Jef Rouner, the Houston Press

Oct. 13, 2015


“Mm, Whatcha Say” - Digitally Painted Gif

I know it’s a short gif, with only 6 frames, but there was a lot going on in each picture, so I kept it short. I really like this moment though, where the Doctor puts his ‘Oncoming Storm’ face on!

This is NOT a Photoshop filter, every stroke is painted by me.

  • Me: Do you like Amy?
  • My little brother: No, 'cause she's mean to the Cybermen.
  • Me: Do you like Rory?
  • My little brother: No, 'cause he scares the Cybermen.
  • Me: Do you like River Song?
  • My little brother: No, 'cause she's mean to the Daleks.
  • Me: Do you like the Doctor?
  • My little brother: Yeah, he's nice.

anonymous asked:

Imagine Steve and may being the best of bros!!

She approached him after the dust settled around the ruins of SHIELD, with the same unshakable air of confidence that he had seen in briefings and missions. Steve figured that the world could fall apart at the seams, mountains could crumble, Melinda May would be left standing.

She didn’t ask him the same tired questions that everyone else had since the exposure; if he felt betrayed, if this was the future he had hoped to build. With all the power of an oncoming storm, Melinda May had asked him to meditate with her.

They had discussed the possibility briefly while staked out in a burnt out HYDRA stronghold in Vladivostok. He had mentioned that he often felt crowded, that he didn’t know how to sort through his thoughts at times. Melinda told him that meditation had helped her through some rough patches that she felt no need to elaborate on.

“You could sit in one day,” she told him, but duty called before he could respond.

They made it a weekly affair. Steve felt himself calming in a way he hadn’t known before, like his mind had been cluttered with a thousand dusty cobwebs that were suddenly blown away. He wasn’t sure if it was the silent contemplation or just Melinda’s presence but he was grateful regardless.

And of course, she was the greatest sparring partner he had ever had, but she was so much more than that.

There’s a level of familiarity one must reach with Agent May before you can, say, go out for coffee and talk about work. But once that level has been achieved, she’s the most fascinating conversationalist. Whenever Steve mentions something about Barton, May smiles like she holds all the man’s secrets just behind her teeth, which is probably not far from the truth. She’s an excellent story teller, concise and accurate, with a near photographic memory. It’s not hard to see why she’s a top agent but Steve likes the way she talks about sunrises, her favorite movies, her damn Starbucks order.

She reminds him of Nat, less for their shared ability to make silence seem deadly, but more for the way her eyebrow quirks up when he mentions he’s single.

“We’ll work on that,” she assures him, sipping on her latte.

Steve wonders how many secret agents one person is allowed to have as wingwomen. He thinks the answer will present itself as needs must. 

“The Oncoming Storm” - Digital Oil Painting

He’s got on his ‘don’t mess with me’ face. You’d better not be between him and his Rose.

This is NOT a Photoshop filter, every stroke is painted by me.

A beautiful man, sarcastic and funny. He believed in the importance of everything and everyone. His apologies were fewer, and therefore meant so much more. He made people take notice of him because of the sheer force of his personality. He was the embodiment of the Oncoming Storm in righteous anger. He was a soldier willing to get his hands dirty and kick down doors when he needed to act. He was a lover who gave his life to save his Rose. He was fantastic, and will always be My Doctor. -on why I love Nine the most
Sin, Love and Destruction

Written for the @timepetalsprompts weekly drabble prompt ‘lust’.

Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose, Rated G, 879 words, Angst

Summary: Every culture, every morality, every religion that the Doctor has ever encountered has had some version of the Seven Deadly Sins. The Doctor is guilty of all but one. 

The Greeks describe four types of love, but he’s only ever entertained three.

Until a small, blonde human takes his hand, looks up at him and says, ’there’s me.’

read it on ao3!

Originally posted by cooltennant

Every culture, every morality, every religion that the Doctor has ever encountered has had some version of the Seven Deadly Sins.

Sloth, greed, envy, lust, pride, gluttony, wrath.

He’s known as the Oncoming Storm, a title he’s perversely satisfied with.

You can tick off pride and wrath, there.

He’s been slow to act before, and though he’s mostly a generous sort, he’s been known to take without giving in return. More than once.

Sloth and greed.

He has always found himself jealous of the humans’ freedom to show their emotions at will and has allowed himself, at times, to indulge unreservedly in the very un-Time Lord-ly behavior of feelings.

There you have envy and gluttony.

But the one sin he’s never allowed, the one transgression he’s not permitted himself, has always been lust.


The Greeks describe four types of love, but he’s only ever entertained three.

Agape - the unconditional love, as god loves man.

Philae - love as one friend loves another.

Storge - the stable, solid love of a family.

He’s allowed those types of love in his life before, with people he’s traveled with. He’s permitted himself to foster the apelike, platonic affections they show each other, and enjoyed them. When he inevitably lost the companions he cared about, it was always incredibly painful and he always swore he’d never do it again. But invariably, he succumbed once again to the pull of emotions.

He did not, of course, allow himself to entertain any thoughts of eros, the erotic, amorous love. A Time Lord must have some limits, after all.

Then the Time War happened, and he swore off all happiness for himself. He didn’t deserve it. He deserved the black, torturous hell that his mind had become, and any reprieve from it was unthinkable. He was unworthy of redemption. He could never earn absolution. He would never deserve the love he’d enjoyed before. Instead, he wallowed in the bitterness and loneliness of his own mind.

Until one small, blonde human looked up at him and said, ‘There’s me.


It’s not even lust, really, although that’s certainly a part of the complex emotional attachment he has to one Rose Tyler. To be honest, he’s always been a renegade, refusing to follow the path of the Time Lords - but now he’s wandered so far afield that he’s tripped and fallen headlong into love.

For nine centuries, he’s balanced and juggled almost all of those sins and almost all those loves. With this one woman, he allowed himself to commit all of them when he fell from grace and into love with her.

He swells with pride every time she takes his hand, and every time he shows her something and she looks at him as if he hung the moon, like he’s so impressive, he is self-satisfied. He craves more of that look in her eyes, needs more of her admiration, and when he earns it through some impressive show or another he basks in her approval, soaking it up.

His hearts burn with jealousy every time any young man looks at her. He does his best to hide it, but knows that he fails. He lashes out - sometimes even at her - his anger and fear of losing her overriding his good sense. Nothing soothes him besides the gratification of her always returning to him, always taking his hand, always looking him in the eye and letting him know that she’s his.

He regrets his inaction for so long, not telling her just what she meant to him and how much he meant to her…not letting her know that while she was looking at him as if he hung the moon, he was fully convinced that the sun, moon and all the planets actually revolved around her. Gods knew that she was the center of his universe.

He loved her.

Now, though, he knows that the sin that has pushed him over the edge into ruin is lust. He’s loved before, he’s lost before. The pain of those losses were nothing like this, and it’s entirely because of the completeness of his love for Rose Tyler.

He loved her in every way it was possible to love another person.

His love was unconditional. He wished nothing but good for her, always. Agape.

He loved her as his dearest friend. He loved her as his equal. He loved her virtuously. Philae.

He was empathetic to her, his love for her strong and stable like a tree with deep roots. Storge.

But these types of love were nothing new. He’d felt these many times before, and withstood the loss of the people he felt them for.

No, the problem was that he’d loved Rose Tyler intimately, their bodies rolling together in joyful, sweaty tangles. He’d loved her because she was beautiful, gazing at her for hours while she slept beside him. He’d loved her passionately, his hearts burning for her. Lust. Eros.

And while he’d committed most sins before in his lifetimes, and he’d loved in most ways, he’d never loved and sinned in every possible way until Rose Tyler.

Now, as he stands in a ruined room with his face pressed against a blank wall, he knows that eros and lust have spelled his destruction, and he will never, ever recover.

12th Doctor Morning Cuppa... Eyes Closed...

So after a bit of a discussion with one of my dear followers  @samuraiwarrior I was encouraged to post my extensive pictures of PCap as the 12th Doctor.

Since this is quite an extensive collection I thought I would use this opportunity to organize my folders so I can find things a bit easier.  Because there is nothing worse then knowing you have a great picture but you can’t bloody find it because you forgot where you put it.  (yeah that has happened to me many many times)  

I do admire the 12th Doctor’s eyes but what I find so interesting is how his demeanor changes when his eyes are closed.  He isn’t the “oncoming storm” he looks more vulnerable. When his eyes are closed you see that he is ancient and amazing.  It makes me want to give him a great big hug.    

                                    “The Closed Eyes”

Good Morning and Kissy Kiss my dear followers.