i'm sorry but DON'T THEY LOOK LIKE THAT HALF OF THE TIME

  • Somewhere in S9 hopefully...(prolly won't happen but this seems to be a running theme/joke)
  • Nurse: *hands the Doctor the baby* Congratulations you have a son! He's a perfect mix of you and Ms. Oswald.
  • Doctor: *carrying the baby O_O looks at Clara* He's is a perfect mix of us Clara...half time lord...half human...It's almost--
  • Clara: *shaking her head* hoe don't do it!
  • Doctor: It's almost like he's a (*gasp*) hybrid!
  • Clara: oh my god!
truce

It feels like he hasn’t blinked in an age.

His eyes sting, tightening at the edges against the dryness but he cannot look away. He cannot tear his eyes away from the sleeping form of Bonnie Bennett. He had turned half the town upside down looking for her during the day – he had worked himself up into such a fury that by the time he had stormed his way home (homehomehome) he had walked straight past her. She was curled up on the couch, an old, soft looking blanket wrapped around her tightly. He knew how she liked to sleep, laying on one side with her arms – bent awkwardly, he had always thought – beneath her head as a make-shift pillow.

She was murmuring quietly, little words and sounds of distress. It’s what had made him stop – made him whirl on the spot, his face bright red, his mouth practically spitting curses. His jaw had clamped shut though, upon seeing her. Their game had ended for the day as soon as her brow had dipped together and her forehead had creased in unconscious fear. He sat before her now, kneeling in front of her. His knees ached and yet, he could not move. He was transfixed, as he had been all those nights before as he watched Damon and her sleep. Obsessively. Possessively.

Keep reading