tha doctor

Ugh, I hate to be that person...

But I need more blogs to follow!

Please reblog if you post/reblog…

-Gorillaz
-the weeknd
-gotham
-doctor who
-Lana Del Rey
-any members of odd future
-Daniel Howell
-AmazingPhil
-KickThePj
-oitnb

You don’t even have to be a fan blog, just gotta post any of these sometimes😊

My favourite thing about Jamie’s portrayal in the extended universe is that sometimes, he’s mildly Scottish with a few Ayes thrown in there, maybe he mentions his ever present kilt pride, y'know, that sort of thing.

And then  sometimes he’s just the full blown ‘wha’ s tha o'er there, Doctor,  tha isnae no wee beastie,  ye ken me?’ and is beating people over the head with his bagpipes while hollering the Skye Boat Song and generally being the most Scottish Scot to ever scot, and it is becoming increasingly clear there is NO MIDDLE GROUND between the two. 

hiatus or whatever

tl;dr vaguely-worded self-pity

I don’t know if I’d call this a hiatus or bye internet forever, or if I have any right to be upset at all since it’s every bit my fault. I don’t want friends or support or silly pictures. I just want the end.

The decision I’ve waited on for two years, hung every single ‘someday’ and hope of being able to live again, came back. I knew it would be another denial, I knew nothing good would ever happen for me. Yet I waited and hoped and planned for a day when I could feel valid. Stupid. Everything about me is stupid and worthless and self-defeating. It doesn’t matter what the doctors think or my friends and family. In fact it says right in the denial letter tha my doctor is lying because he’s “known me and my family too long to be objective”. His opinion and all the work he put into supporting my case doesn’t matter. What matters is one brand new judge seeing that I’m just a manipulative lazy shitstain. The government says I’m not disabled, so I’m not. I can choose to grow up and work around things like every other abled, neuronormative alive. Simple, right?

Mom wants to appeal it. Another two years living off $10 a month in this house that triggers my misophonia so bad some days I cry about it. Another two years of me being a stupid enough fuck to hope, all culminating into another denial. It’s a pipe dream. I have to “live” like this until I die.

I don’t feel much like interacting with social media. I’m too selfish to want to see how happy everyone else is, when it’s just not in the cards for me.

2

“Doctor no, don’t do tha-, Doctor put that down right now!!!

Now Accepting Imagine Requests

ikon-ravager-lifesaver  asked:

"No one can know about us! Look, if we get found out, I could get fired!"

“They ain’t gonna fire ya just ‘cause ya gettin’ fucked by one of ya patients.” He told the medic as he grabbed his hair pulling him closer to himself. “I mean, ya tha only doctor we got, he ain’t gonna let ya go.”

5

we changed the game

Tha Doctor, Julius Erving Dr J 

The NBA wanted its players to be clean cut, hair short and dressed conservatively. They frowned on flash…then the ABA came along and shook things up. That Red, White and Blue ball, brutha’s with big, BIG Fro’s, The 3 point shot, offense personified and be flashy as you wanna be! That was ABA ball.  

It was an upstart league making noise, but holding on by a shoestring, and the NBA was trying it’s best to crush it. That is until the Virginia Squires drafted the Doctor! Everyone including the owners of the NBA teams stopped and took notice, simply because Doc could fly.

No-you think I’m playing, but on the real, Julius Erving…that mutha fuka could fly! Let me say this slow…no one, I repeat, NO ONE in the league-played like Dr J Back in the day. Brutha changed tha game.  

In his five years in the ABA Doc won three scoring titles, three Most Valuable Player Awards and not one, but TWO championships with the Nets, (That’s right the Nets were originally a ABA team). The NBA caught wise and worked out a merger and yes Doc was one of the main reasons the leagues merged.

NBA baller’s said, “they, (ABA ballers) don’t play no D so  Julius won’t be able to do here what he did over there…but they were wrong. The Doctor was unstoppable. At 6’ 6” 220lb Doc was fast. He had a nice midrange jumper and could take any and every defender that faced him to the hole. Let me say it correct, Dr J took two and three ma-fuka’s to the hole. He dunked on every big man in the league, (including Kareem). But he was NOT a dunk contest dunker. His best was always during actual games. Doc needed body’s flying at him, hands and arms swinging and reaching for the ball with a misguided hope of blocking his shot. Few did, Dr J had crazy ups and hang time, he switched hands, double and triple pumped and played the angles off the backboard better then any player I’ve ever seen.

Oh! And did I mention, that brutha Julius…. could fly.

I know, young heads gonna be taking about Jordan this and Jordan that…respect to Mike. I’m not one for comparisons, what I will tell you is this, there are some kats who are so nice with there’s, they transcend time and could play in any era. Dr J was one of em.

In his 11-year NBA career Dr J was an All-Star each season, the league’s Most Valuable Player in 1981 and a five-time member of the All-NBA First Team. He scored 30,026 points in his combined ABA and NBA career; only Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Wilt Chamberlain, Karl Malone and Michael Jordan have scored more points in the history of professional basketball.

by WHB2

check him out: 

http://youtu.be/HAqpkjFPbVY

The feels

The bittersweet feeling when finishing a season of doctor who. And the fml feeling after the regeneration. And of course the “Are they ever gonna die or what?’’ feeling when you hear ‘’ Exterminate’’. Don’t forget the ‘’ THIS IS IT, THIS IS THE MOMENT WHEN HE DIES- Oh wait, I guess not- feeling when the doctor does something stupid af. The feeling when the companions leave like ‘biatch if I were you I would get yo ass back to the tardis  and stay with tha doctah’.

-TSFL 

1941. Right now, not very far from here, the German war machine is rolling up the map of Europe. Country after country, falling like dominoes. Nothing can stop it, nothing. Until one tiny, damp little island says “No. No, not here.” A mouse in front of a lion. You’re amazing, the lot of you. I don’t know what you did to Hitler, but you frighten the hell out of me, go on, do what you’ve got to do, save the world.
—  The 9th Doctor, Series 1.9

anonymous asked:

Prompt idea: Little Merida Mills-Locksley one day overhears that her birth mother was responsible for the death of her brother's dad and her other brother's mom and asks them if they hate her for that. Robin and Regina listen in on the heartbreaking conversation between their children. - If you are interested. I'm crying only thinking about this. Thanks

Thank you so much for this gorgeous prompt!  I hope it’s fulfillment lives up to your hopes. :)


Her Fears: 

He finds her outside of Roland’s room, her ear practically pressed to the door, her stance tense and rigid.

“What—”

Regina silences him with a finger to his lips, grabbing his arm to bring him closer to her.

“Shhhh,” she instructs without a sound, pointing to the door, her eyes wide and concerned. It’s then he hears Henry’s muffled voice followed by a deep cough from Roland, the timbre still too wet for his liking. The boy has been fighting bronchitis for the past four days, and he wonders if they should take him back to the doctor.

“Tha…not true, Merida,” Henry states, and Robin leans in closer, suddenly distracted as he tries to make out conversation funneled through wood.

“But she…killed your dad,” Merida replies, some of her words lost in the journey. “And…mom, Roland.”

“Oh my God,” Robin breathes, and Regina nods back at him, her grip on his arm all the tighter.

“Doesn’t that make you two hate me?”

The girl’s words are loud enough to travel straight to his ears and into his heart, and he clutches Regina’s waist, feeling a deep pain always reserved for his youngest child, one conceived under the worst possible circumstances, circumstances he’s tried to protect her from since she drew her first breath.

There’s some sort of movement, and he hears Merida crying. His hand reaches for the door knob instinctively, but Regina pulls him back, beseeching him to wait with her in silence.

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fic: Distance, part 19/?

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10 ~ Part 11 Part 12 ~ Part 13 ~ Part 14 ~ Part 15 ~ Part 16 ~ Part 17 ~ Part 18 ~

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Rose muttered to herself, leaning against the front door of her house, as she watched Mickey and the Doctor sauntering towards her. “What’s going on?” she called out to them.

The Doctor shoved his hands into his pockets and paused along the front garden path, his eyes widening innocently. “What do you mean? Nothing’s going on.”

He was definitely up to something.

Mickey shifted awkwardly beside him. “Yeah, dunno what you mean, Rose.”

“I mean, why are you two together? What have you been up to?”

“Nothing,” they said, in unison.

“Bollocks.”

They resumed their walk, coming up to her with matching expressions of faux guiltlessness. “You’re so suspicious, Rose,” the Doctor complained. “Mickey and I were just having a chat, that’s all.”

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