Open post/meme overflow 💫

[makemeasong]

all links are open for tagging, either here under their top level or on bakerstreet. I do rotate through them, so some will come down eventually.
cross canon, assumed cr, and ocs welcome. Please check out Clara's permissions post for more info.

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[twelfthsong]

( ooc: continued from here )

[Truth be told the Doctor doesn't have the faintest idea of a destination in mind when he suggests it to Clara. The only resounding truth he has is that he's missed traveling with her and exploring worlds that are new to the both of them.

He was starkly aware that their dynamic wasn't the same as it had with his previous life, but he knew that they had eventually found their way into a comfortable dynamic that had eventually lead them to this: something that was purely theirs.

Untangling Clara from his arms, he led her by the hand towards the console as the door quietly swung shut behind them. Gently he pressed her fingers into the soft gel and knowing he wouldn't have to explain what it was, he bent down leaning in to whisper in her ear.]

Think about some of your favourite things. We'll see where the old girl takes us.

[makemeasong]

[ Clara smiles from ear to ear and for a moment, she can't help but tease. ]

Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens.

[ After laughing at her own joke she finally takes a breath and lets it out contently, letting her thoughts drift. It's difficult not to think of him because he is her favorite thing, but she tries to fit other things in: the way it sounds when wood crackles in a cozy fire, reading books under a warm blanket and baking sweets in a kitchen. ]

I have no idea what she's gonna do, honestly. Couldn't stop thinkin' about you.

[ Clara grins at him cheekily, moving her hand as the TARDIS seems to have come to a decision. ]

[twelfthsong]

[The Doctor is rolling his eyes but it's all in jest even if she can't see it. Despite that he stays there behind her watching the screens, noting the flashes of him that appear from time to time. All he does is give her a look, a cheeky warning of, 'don't you get started', pulls the lever.

When they arrive, he sends her away to get changed into something more appropriate for wherever it is they've landed and by the time she's returned, he's waiting patiently by the door, hand on the handle waiting for her before nudging it open.]

After you.

[The TARDIS opens into a soft muted, neon forest. Lights dart from the fir trees while the forest floor beneath them is covered in long sweetgrass. And there nestled in the glade is a log cabin which the Doctor can only assume is for them because as far as he can tell the next one is several hills over. It's a place hasn't been to before but instead of taking it all in immediately as he normally would, he looks expectantly over at Clara.]

[makemeasong]

[ She's decided on jeans and a top that's light enough she won't get hot, and warm enough that she won't be too chilly. When she steps through the TARDIS door, Clara looks around and then closes her eyes, listening to the sounds for a second before a soft, serene smile crosses her lips.

Looking at him again, she reaches out for his hand, ready to let him lead. ]

I happen to think she did pretty well. This is perfect, where are we?

[makemeasong]

[ ooc: continued from here. ]

He keeps stopping and starting and Clara blinks at him again though it turns into a small frown.

"Confusing things. People screaming, and fire, but that melted away into stars and tears. Your tears, I think. But...not." She frowns deeper because that doesn't make sense.

"There are happy people too. People who love you. I can see them, sort of. If I try too hard, it all goes away."

[sillyolddoctor]

For the second time that evening, the Doctor felt his hearts slam against his ribs and wondered if Clara could hear them too.

He felt himself swimming again in memories. No, not swimming.

Drowning.

And the box he never spoke of in the dark corner of his brain he never visited slowly began to open…

“Try harder.” he told her. And snapped the box shut.

The words had come out colder than he had intended, and he felt the sting of them too. Maybe he wasn’t ready to engage again.

Focus, Doctor. Mystery now, sulk later.

Had the voice in his head always been Scottish or was that a recent thing?

Shut up, Raggedy Man! the Scottish voice in his head replied.

“Sorry,” He spread his thumb and index finger across his eyelids and felt so tired all of a sudden. Had he slept since Manhattan? He wasn’t entirely sure. “Sorry, long day.”

He was all business again as he snapped out the sonic and buzzed it over Clara once more. “What you’re seeing are temporal echoes. Of the past. Possibly even the future…”

He paused, and he wasn’t sure if it was for her benefit or his, “…my past, my future…”

[makemeasong]

When he snaps at her, she actually leans her body back and away from him before stepping up to him, tall as she can. Which isn't tall at all.

"Oi, don't you get snappy with me, I've got better things to do than try to figure out some...some Doctor." Clara huffs. She doesn't actually have anything better to do, but he doesn't need to know that.

When he apologizes, she slowly relaxes, wetting her lips and crossing her arms over her chest.

"This is...your life then. Why are so many people screaming?" It's almost too much for her head. Her mind wasn't made to hold a Time War, even small pieces of it.

[sillyolddoctor]

“You weren’t supposed to see that. No one should.”

For an anxious moment he wondered if she could hear the screaming, too. He forced the hell back inside the box, grateful that it was bigger on the inside.

His voice low, like the words were forbidden, he continued, “When people experience anger or pain or loss, the emotions are too big, too noisy, they’re… ah… amplified. Temporarily temporally amplified.”

His hands and fingers danced as he spoke, “I don’t mean temporal in the way you understand it. It’s not spiritual. I mean time. These are echoes from time, like radio waves. And you somehow tuned in. That’s all.”

He paused and shrugged, “You were just the wrong girl at the wrong time. Nothing else. Nobody important.”

The last two words felt hauntingly familiar but they hadn’t been his. Not originally.

[gallifreytotrenzalore]

{{OOC; Continued from over here.}}

[ The kiss startles him, just the tiniest bit. He's naturally skittish after all. But he doesn't let go of her and instead grins down at her warmly. ]

That sounds nice. [ Both the suggestion and the name. ] What would you suggest for a slow day? [ He doesn't do those, usually. And when he does they very quickly drive him quite bonkers. ]

awesome ty for linking!

[makemeasong]

[ Clara thinks about it, humming with one hand trailing down his arm and lacing their fingers together. ]

I can come up with a few things. Would you like to hear all my ideas or only the ones that involve lack of clothing?

[makemeasong]

[ ooc: continued from here ]

[ Clara glances over and feels a quiet pang at the words never liked a goodbye, myself. But of course, she wouldn't know she's speaking to exactly the person she's thinking of—her own ending hasn't even happened yet. There's no recognition, their roles from the last time the Doctor saw her. ]

I know someone like that. Never told him this, but sometimes I skip all the way to the end of a book, just to see if I think it's worth reading. Most of the time, I'm glad I went back to the start.

[ Fellow English lit teachers everywhere would be horrified. ]

[sheffieldsteel]

I'm not a fan of those endings either. I tend to skip those pages.

[Or tear them out entirely. Some things never change.

She's trying not to stare, but it's hard really. For all the talk of see-you-laters instead of goodbyes, she really had expected to never lay eyes on Clara again. How nice it is to be wrong in this case, to actually see her again.]

I think he'd have understood though. It's nice to know where you're headed sometimes, yeah? As long as you don't let it get in the way of the journey. That's the best part, even after it's over. And an ending can't take that away, no matter how hard it tries.

[Even when it tries to steal away memories and erase all traces.]

[makemeasong]

[ Now, Clara has to turn, looking at the woman beside her. It isn't just that the words remind her of the Doctor. She wants to stop staring at the lights, trying not to think about a phone call and what she should've said but didn't. There was no goodbye then, either, just two words.

Miss ya.

They've come so far, but she still misses him. And she misses the him she was last with, too. But she can distract herself with meeting someone new. A cute someone new, to boot. ]

Very wise words. [ She glances up at the neon. ] Feels a bit silly, to have something I know wouldn't help show up in lights like that. Especially with some of the others, mine's downright pedestrian.

[sheffieldsteel]

I have my moments, every century or so.

[She answers with a smile and a shrug of her shoulder. But she's quick to shake her head at what Clara says next.]

It's not silly. It's human. Very human. And that is a compliment, Clara Oswald, in case you were wondering.

[She doesn't always mean it as a compliment, mind, but this time she genuinely does.]

[makemeasong]

[ ooc: continued from here. ]

you drive a hard bargain. but okay.

[ She takes five more seconds to breathe, and then gets up from bed and tugs on shorts and a shirt before walking to her flat door. There's the sound of her unlocking the latch, a pause, and then pulls it open to look up at him. ]

I should've answered, sorry. I think that's the fastest you've ever made it here.

[ Clara looks a little unsure of herself but steps back to let him inside. ]

[finefurryfella]

[ Roy doesn't really say anything, only grunts in his usual way before he steps inside, then proceeds to look very awkward. Why? Because he's no good at this. Should he take off his jacket? His shoes? Should they sit down? Fuck, this is stressful. And if he doesn't say something soon, she'll probably think he's here to break up with her. ]

I knew I should have taken my time to get here so I could have thought about what I'd say instead of breaking the fucking speed limit.

[ But the speeding fines will be worth it. He needed to get here fast before he lost his courage. He reaches for her hands and holds them, nervous but determined. ]

Clara Oswald, part-teacher, part-fucking-timetraveller, part-fierce-as-fuck-woman, part-surprising-fucking-dork... I fucking love you.

[ And that absolutely scares the shit out of him, but he's still here. He's not pushing her away to protect himself from getting hurt again. He's opening himself up to the love he thinks he deserves. ]

Fucking say something. [ Even if she just tells him to get out of her house after misreading her text. ]

[makemeasong]

[ Clara has no idea what's going to come out of his mouth, but there's hope; he wouldn't drive all the way to her only to break up and drive all the way home. So, she waits, and when he takes her hands, she listens.

The more he says, the wider her eyes grow. She knows how difficult this is for him, and when he calls her a fucking dork she laughs, followed by stunned silence. If anything, if it went her way, she expected maybe 'I feel the same way' but this? A full-blown I love you? It's like it's her birthday and Christmas, and every other favorite holiday all mashed into one. Her mind is still trying to process when calls her out for not saying anything. ]

Roy Kent, full-time football coach, all-the time big-hearted, generous boyfriend, part-time amazing, brilliant cool uncle, part-way more-of-a-surprising-dork than me, I fucking love you. I love you, Roy.

[ Closing the distance between them, Clara tugs his arms around her so he can wrap her up. It's always a favorite of hers, small enough to be completely engulfed in him; it's even better in bed and she's still warm and soft from sleep and he pulls her close. ]

You put back together so many pieces for me, you know that? Seeing the universe, being offered time and space, that's all more than amazing. But I lost that feeling of home a long time ago, when my mum died, and you—

[ So much for not crying. She feels her chest tighten and squeezes him tightly. ]

You make me feel like I'm home, again.

[finefurryfella]

[ Well, she said it, and Roy feels so happy he could laugh - and he actually does because did she seriously call him a dork back? God, he loves her for that. ]

You think I'm more of a dork than you? Fuck off.

[ He may be romantic enough to have driven to her place in the middle of the night and given her a sweet love declaration, but he's still Roy Kent who tells his girlfriend to fuck off, which really means I fucking love you (swearing is his love language). And despite telling her to fuck off, he does the exact opposite and lifts her up into his arms, her legs wrapping naturally around his waist, his hands under her thighs, holding her in place. Picking her up is one of his favourite things, whether it's for an embrace like this, a piggyback, or holding her up while he fucks her in the shower. He loves raising her to his level so she doesn't have to stretch to reach his mouth.

His chest tightens too when she brings up her mother because he knows how much pain that's caused her, and maybe she won't ever fully heal from that, the same way he carries his grief from his grandad's death with him always. But together they're healing one another, and together they've made a home for themselves in each other's hearts.

He wipes a stray tear from her cheek, then he leans in and kisses her. ]

[makemeasong]

[ The Doctor's called her impossible girl, but he's the impossible one. It started innocently enough; they're closer than they ever have been, even closer maybe, than when he wore bowties. Her instinct to take care of him (even though he claims he doesn't need it) has kept her traveling with him, seriously considering giving up Coal Hill; she isn't aging at the right pace, it's going to get obvious soon enough, and then she'd have to make a choice. But it isn't one, not for her. Not really.

She's asked him to pick her up on days other than Wednesday. He's asked her just one more adventure before taking her back home. His hand finds a home at the small of her back more often than just when he's worried lately, he doesn't flinch when she takes his hand and only flails for a few wild seconds when she hugs him, less if he can see her coming. There's been a shift, and she thinks he senses it too. Or maybe he doesn't. It's wholly plausible the man is an idiot. Clara starts to suspect he's really that oblivious in how he treats her, that it's different, when he never once acknowledges it. There's only one way to find out, really.

The next time he picks her up, it's business as usual: Clara walks in and hangs up her leather jacket, then strides up to the console. But instead of hopping up on a safe part of the surface, she stands up on tiptoe, kisses his cheek, and then hops onto the console. ]

I'd ask if you missed me, but we both know the answer. You're in shambles without me.

[twelfthsong]

[ Clara's hunch about him being oblivious is mostly correct. Mostly. There are oftentimes too many thoughts swirling in that large expansive brain of his that are simply filled up with other things that take precedence over romance or matters of the heart. Or hearts in his case.

Bowtie had never been particularly inclined to explore romance even though River was and is a complicated subject on a good day. The loss of Amy and Rory still stains his hearts more than he likes to think about it, so his newfound debate about whether or not he was a good person had been pushed to the forefront.

But now that all of that is sorted, now that he realizes that he was being far too serious for his liking, some of his brain capacity has been freed up for other things. And while there's more room, romance, feelings, still aren't really top of mind. That isn't to say he doesn't find himself staring at the door long after Clara has left, or that he doesn't notice when she's done something new to her face (it's makeup, and he's had to clarify that different doesn't mean bad) because he does.

He just isn't sure what to make of it. He doesn't want to think about what to make of the fact that his body just seems to lean instinctively towards her, or how his hand in the small of her back feels incredibly right. Love is not a mundane thing that much he had come to terms with long ago. It was more that this situation with her was...complicated. The sort of complicated he didn't like.

All the more reason then not to think about it. Bit difficult to do that when she arrives that day and kisses his cheek which would be fine if the warmth from her lips didn't linger. He's in the middle of some calculations and it takes his mind off of it, but not so much that his facial expression changes. Good thing too otherwise he would have needed a moment to rearrange it into something other than his usual grump.

Even that is hard pressed though when he sees the glimmering spark of mischief in her eyes. The corners of his lips twitch almost imperceptibly. ]

Oh you know that for a fact, do you?

[makemeasong]

Of course, I do. I'd bet good money that most times, you cheat and shortcut your way to the next time you get to see me.

[ She doesn't know if that was too much, but with the Doctor, maybe being bolder is what she needs to be. There's a risk she runs of accidentally causing him to push her away, but at this point, she would so much rather know than keep wondering. ]

Not that shortcuts are a bad thing. It's just wildly unfair that I don't get to see you whenever I want.

[ Her eyes are studying his face, wondering when the angry lines seemed to smooth away into something softer. Maybe it's only lately, that it's happened or that she's noticed. ]

[twelfthsong]

Unfortunately for you I don't carry any money on me. Ever. You'll just have to stay wondering, won't you?

[ Clara knows that though. He's just trying to be clever in a way that could either earn him a chiding pout or a cheeky grin. He clicks his tongue, almost regrettably although it wouldn't fool anyone let alone someone who knew his face as well as she does.

The way she's watching him does little to help him pull his mind away from the kiss to his cheek. Clara is of course affectionate in nature, something he has grown more accustomed to over the time they've spent together; it could mean nothing more than a sign of greeting. If he's smart he should classify it as such. But, a small voice asks, what if he didn't want it to just be a kiss in greeting?

Said voice is shoved promptly away. His gaze turns back to the screen where his calculations patiently await him.

Well between the two of us you do have a job. Two if you count being my boss and in both cases I can't tell you what to do.

➳ Red (@damnable)

[makemeasong]

[ Clara's lost track of how long she's been traveling in her TARDIS; human brains weren't meant to keep so much information for so long, so she's taken to writing, just like Me did. Journals and journals that she keeps in a room that so far span, but there's one period of time that has no written documentation, no record exists. She'd left this universe, left the TARDIS too, and gone to another place that she can't even remember now. It was a dream first, but the only thing that haunts her when she sleeps is a glimpse of red curls. Everything else is too blurry for her to ever make out, and so she's stopped thinking about it, stopped wondering why she feels so incomplete. It's easy to chalk those feelings up to being dead.

That part she's gotten sort of used to. No one knows, or at least no one has said anything if they do. Clara Oswald seems perfectly alive if you're a perfectly normal human.

Now and then she likes to stop running for a bit, to rest and work out where in the universe she wants to spend a good chunk of time next. It's satisfying to stop and park the TARDIS, to provide free food, and if it seems like someone might need help, she likes sticking around. Usually, though, her TARDIS takes her where she wants it to. This time, however, she gets stuck in one place that's unfamiliar. Not one to ignore a sign, the diner is soon open for business, and Clara, blue waitress uniform and all, is behind the counter. Her back is turned as she starts the coffee; hearing the bell above the door jingle, she calls out. ]

Be with you in just a mo', getting the coffee going. You're the first customer of the day.

sobs about them!! ;o;

[damnable]

( There wasn't any choice. When the final beacons came, the Merchant wasn't going to let anyone stay. They were too much of a threat to that world. They didn't belong there. Never mind it was one of the few places Red ever felt like was home. That had nothing to really do with the place though. It was everything to do with the people. It was everything to do with Clara, and she disappeared before the final beacon. She disappeared back in the city where Clara was being a priestess, and she used her invisible petal to find Red, and they had that incredible night.

She was just gone when the beacon came that time, and she didn't come back. The world felt less like home after that, but returning to her own world wasn't an option either because of what waited for her there. Until there was no choice. The final beacon came, and no one was given an option.

But she was given the option to remember. If nothing else, she could have the memory of the place, of the people she loved there, of Clara. It's stupid then to hope she might see her. The TARDIS was supposed to be able to go between times and worlds, but she won't remember her so how would she know to find her at all?

Still- Still Red searches, and she hopes, and she- she gets some sense one day, some feeling one day. She leaves hiding. She follows the feeling until. A diner? She steps inside, recognizing that voice immediately, the back of her immediately. It doesn't even occur to her that she might not remember her too. Clara just hasn't seen her yet. That's all. Her throat locks with emotion. Her eyes burn, and she stumbles forward, shaking her head like it's impossible to believe such a miracle. )

Clara?

i'm already clutchin my chest

[makemeasong]

[ It's been a long time since anyone's said her name like they know her. Been a long time since she's let herself be known at all, so when she hears her name called out like that, she can't help but glance over her shoulder curiously. She stops what she's doing the second she catches sight of the curls and forgets the coffee.

There's something so instantly different about this woman that Clara knows immediately that she's about to step off a ledge. Toward what, she isn't sure, and can she even trust there's a bottom? Her voice is wary but still light, willing to see this through. ]

Who's asking?

[ There's still the off-chance this could be a rogue Time Lord come to drag her back to Gallifrey, so she isn't completely forthcoming, not yet. Even if something is telling her this isn't that. ]