#because the Doctor ends #everything ends sometime even the Doctor #and this is the end of the long song #retirement #finding peace in the job given to him by Elizabeth the First #where he can help UNIT by looking after the Under Gallery through the hundreds of years still left to him #where he can occasionally venture up into the National Gallery above #and watch time pass slowly #and in the right order #and not think it too bad a thing #where he can sometimes see #when the heavens align just right #familiar faces touring the gallery #a history teacher taking her class on an outing #an aspiring journalist doing a story #a young girl with blonde hair who only just started having adventures #but still comes back when her friend calls her #because doesn’t that statue of Fortuna look familiar? #and the Doctor smiles as they examine the work of another pair of hands #a younger pair of hands #and where he tells stories #oh so many stories #to whomever will listen #young Alistair when he wasn’t playing pretend soldiers #little Kate when her father was having adventures without her #and then her daughter Osgood #who listened more than anyone else #as he told her stories of a daft old man and a blue box #and sometimes a long long scarf #as he told her she was brave and smart even when she couldn’t quite see it herself #as he made her better #even though the name ‘Doctor’ belonged to the man in his stories #and he was just the humble Curator #at the end of his years #waiting #waiting for that distant day #the day when he finally sees her again #a woman now but still her #hand in hand with the man he knew she’d be with #touring the gallery in the evening light #and he knew he’d fulfilled the promise he’d made so long ago #he had come back #yes he had come back #the long way around #to see his beloved grandchild and the home she had made in this place and in this time #and then he sighs #and with one last look #retreats back to the Under Gallery #to his dusty TARDIS with peeling paint #and sets the old girl on her last course #because even the Curator must end sometime (x)
Movies touch our hearts and awaken our vision, and change the way we see things. They take us to other places, they open doors and minds. Movies are the memories of our lifetime, we need to keep them alive.”
I do too.
If you don’t need Wilfred Mott with antlers on your blog then I don’t know what you’re doing with your life.
yowzariversong asked: "Is that a sonic screwdriver in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?"
Eleven glares at her. “It’s my screwdriver, clearly.”
River frowned and sat back on her heels. “Sweetie, what is the matter with you? Sonic screwdrivers don’t need charging and you know it, so why can’t I have the one in your pocket?” She smirked. “Unless, of course, it’s not actually a sonic screwdriver at all.”
"Ridiculous!" Eleven dug into his pocket, taking out the screwdriver, leaving his pocket empty, but it still didn’t look any better. "I have a Philips screwdriver, too. I’m not sure how this one will do." He threw the sonic over to her, quickly sitting back up on the counter. "I didn’t think you’d need help at putting shelves up. You’re usually alright on your own."
River ignored his statement, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at him. “Sweetie, there’s still something in your pocket, or in your pants. I’d love to know which one.”
Eleven gulped, staring down at his fidgety hands. His hands had become quite interesting, in the period of a few seconds. He shrugged. “What can I say? Walking toolbox.” He crossed his legs. That didn’t ease any pressure at all.
“The roles I’ve been playing seem to be mad children or mothers, I wonder what that means”-Helena Bonham Carter
And now I am watching Rebecca Black’s actual videos. In a Q and A, she stated she watches the vlogbrothers…
Rebecca Black is a nerdfighter.
She’s a huge John Green fan, they had a nice conversation at last year’s VidCon.
Helena Bonham Carter & Carrie Hope Fletcher
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