#a timeless mention

[renegadesstuff]

I'll be watching the x-files next, I guess 🫠

[thetwilightroadtonightfall]

I call this one the “I MISS MY BLORBO SO BAD!!!!!!” gifset, lovingly made on my phone on a friday night 😌❤️

[ivytwines]

when the doctor regenerates, their first instinct is almost always to comment on their new body and it’s unique features (i know these teeth, don’t like the color of my kidneys, etc etc). however when they regenerate into thirteen they make no comment on the sudden disappearance of certain… body parts. this can lead me to only 3 possible explanations:

1) the doctor does not have genitals, in any regeneration. I find this to be stupid and boring

2) the doctor has always had a dick and continues to have a dick even when they are in a more “female” presenting body. trans coded doctor ftw here but I think there’s a better explanation…

3) the doctor has had a vagina before (either always like in scenario #2 or just in certain regenerations) and therefore feels no need to comment on this bodily change.

I am a firm scenario #3 believer and it allows me to come to the obvious conclusion that the tenth doctor was rocking with a pussy. I am he/him lesbian truthing for the tenth doctor at all times

[regulusblackcore]

Timeless // Sebastian Wilder x Reader

You and your Fiancé just moved to New York to start up another Jazz Club, and also for a fresh start. Upon meeting one of the locals, you soon find yourself in a small antique shop, reminiscing on your relationship. He was the one. He was your second half. It was like you two were destined to be, maybe even in another life.

VERY MUCH INSPIRED BY TIMELESS BY TAYLOR SWIFT

(totally not in character at all i just need more ryan gosling character fics. you get it? right? right..? I also cannot write for the life of me so um yeah ! NOT PROOFREAD ITS 3AM)

WC: 5.4k

TW: death (suic!de (romeo + juliet style), allusions to sex, violence

Lights decorated the almost dark street, shops lined up with doors open, inviting customers inside. A tote bag draped over your shoulder, your headphones in as you made your way down the street. You had just been strolling around, wanting to see the new city at night. You had just moved with your now fiance, wanting a new start before you got married.

His mother had offered a place to stay until you were both ready, but you insisted that it was okay and the small apartment would be more than enough. Besides, this was the first time you and Sebastian would be on your own, out in the world. The other day, you had made conversation with a woman at the local grocery store, Neva , and quickly hit it off. Once she found out you were new to the city, she told you that you just had to go to a local street during sunset. And she was right, it was gorgeous. Couples walking hand in hand, string lights up and bright, shops bustling with locals.

You came up on a gorgeous building with long, dark green columns that were a little faded, having been repainted a couple of years before from what you could tell. You looked at the window, “Jolie’s Antiques” in gold writing, “Est. 1846” written under it in small print. You don’t know what drew you in, but you soon felt your feet walking up and pushing onto the door. A small bell chimed above you, an older woman greeting you from behind the counter. You smiled and walked towards the counter, seeing a cardboard box set up on the corner, a bit worn. On the side, it read, “Photos: 25 cents each.” You looked inside, soon grabbing one of the ones at the top. The picture was of a gorgeous woman, dressed in a long lace dress, which you had guessed was white, the photo being in black and white. A bouquet was in her hand, and a delicate smile was on her face. Her hair was up and held together with a veil, which was about the length of her dress. You flipped the photo, seeing tiny writing scribbled on the back in cursive. Wedding Day. August 15th, 1936. Putting the picture down on the counter, you grabbed another one that was on the top. Your eyes scanned the picture, it being a younger couple laughing on the steps of a porch. Boxes were scattered around them, the only thing on the porch being a couple of chairs and a wind chime. His arm was wrapped around her, his head thrown back as her head laid on his shoulder, holding his knee. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face. The more you examined the picture, the more it reminded you of you and your fiance.

The wide smile on the young man’s face, the young woman’s firm yet soft touch. What if you and Sebastian had been born decades earlier? In the back of your mind, you knew. You knew you would’ve still loved each other, even in another lifetime. He was meant to be yours. Fate brought you two together. You pulled yourself out of your thoughts, putting the picture down on the counter with the other one, pulling your phone out of your pocket.

“Is everything okay, love?”, You heard as he picked up the phone. “Yeah, yeah everything is okay, don’t worry.” You said with a smile, looking down at the photo, “This is going to be so strange, and I don’t know if I can even explain this…”

“Even if we met on a crowded street in 1944, and you were headed off to fight in the war”

1944

People pushed past quickly, scrambling to get onto their trains. Whistles blowing from the trains, loved ones weeping, a light wind from the trains departing. Soft hands cradled your face, watery blue eyes meeting yours. “My love, promise me you’ll write every day,” Seb said quietly, only for you to hear. “I promise.” You said, tears rolling down your cheeks, looking away, not wanting him to see you like this. He wiped your tears away with the pad of his thumb, moving your head to look at him once more. He wanted to pick apart every detail, every freckle, every little scar you had.

War. A scary time for all. Sebastian had gotten drafted. You felt true fear the day you found out. What if he got hurt? What if he died on the battlefield? What would you do without him? You looked into his eyes, your hands moving from on top of his to around his neck. You pulled him in, holding him as close as you could, never wanting to let go. You buried your head into the crevice of his neck, inhaling his scent. Sebastian wrapped his arms around your waist, one of his hands going up to rest on the small of your back. He gripped onto the back of your dress, feeling a couple of tears fall onto his cheeks, pressing a lingering kiss onto the top of your head. “I love you.” He whispered, pulling his head back to look down at you. You pulled your head out of his neck, looking up at the love of your life.

“I love you too, so much. Promise me you’ll stay safe.”, You said, lip quivering, a lump in the back of your throat. He took a shaky breath, nodding his head, not being able to look you in the eye. “No, Seb, say it out loud. Promise me.” You pleaded to him, gripping onto the front of his suit. He fixed his gaze onto you, pressing his lips together, “I promise. I’ll stay safe.” He said, resting his forehead against yours. You stayed there for what felt like forever until you heard a train whistle blow, the conductor shouting for the soldiers to get on. Sebastian pressed a sweet but short kiss to your lips, grabbing your hands, trying to make the most of it. You squeezed his hands, slowly pulling away, looking up at him, more tears filling your eyes. He slowly started to pull his hands away, starting to walk towards the train. You held onto him as long as possible, his pinky being the last to linger as he walked away.

He didn’t turn back, knowing he wouldn’t be able to do it, he had to get to the train. You watched as he disappeared into the crowd, tears rolling down your cheeks. You watched him step onto the train, bags in hand. You needed to see him one last time. He couldn’t leave you, not like that at least. You pushed through the crowd as quickly as you could, following him from the side of the train, trying to get to a window that was as close to him as possible. “Seb!” You yelled, trying to get his attention.

The soldier sat down, luckily near a window. You ran over, well, as well as you could in heels. You got on your tiptoes, knocking on the window. Confused, the young man looked over. He felt his heart drop even more when he saw your face. He pulled the window down, grabbing your hand. “My love..” he said, breathless. You looked down, seeing a little bar on the side of the train. You jumped up, now being at eye level with your boyfriend. “I couldn’t let that be the last time I see you for a long time.” You said with a sad smile. He mirrored you, grabbing your face, and pulling you in for a passionate kiss. You grabbed the back of his head, fingers clinging to his soft curls. Teeth clashed, mouths fought, it was the messiest kiss you’ve ever had. Neither of you cared, the kiss saying everything you guys needed to. The train whistled again, the wheels slowly starting to move. You were the first to pull away, your lipstick now messed up. You gave him a kiss on the cheek, whispering into his ear “Win this damn war.” He chuckled solemnly, his soft eyes now slightly puffy from crying. You jumped off the bar as the train started to move, holding onto his hand. “I love you:”, He mouthed, his hand soon slipping out of yours as the train sped up.

You tried keeping up with it, but it was too fast to even try. You waved him goodbye, hoping he would even still see you from the platform. Soon the rest of the train was gone, women and children being left on the platform in tears.

My Dearest Y/N, I wish to feel your touch again. 6 months, that’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen your beautiful face. I long to see you every day, every hour, every second. All I have is your picture, but that is not enough. I wish to run my fingers through your hair, to be able to make you smile, to be able to lay with you when night falls. There are things here that man is not supposed to see, horrors. If hell is real, that is what war is. I’ve been stationed in Normandy, it is like a real-life nightmare I cannot even begin to explain. Just know my love, I am safe. I hope to be back home by Christmas. To be able to see your face and celebrate the holidays, like before. I need you. I need to touch you, to feel you, to see you. I need to hear your voice, to hold you. You make this nightmare bearable. That is the reason I live, you. You help me fight. To be able to sleep at night. I see you when my eyes are closed, I hear your voice as I fear, fear that I might fall next. Do not worry for me, I will return home to you. I hope you await my return. Love + Kisses, Seb

You pace the living room, your radio on as you run your fingers through your hair. Ever since Sebastian had been drafted, you had your radio on every day, praying. Praying for your love to come home, praying for the war to finally end. Every day you feared for the knock on your door, men in suits coming to tell you about your dear Sebastian. About how he fought with bravery for his country but did not make it. You prayed, you pleaded even to not let your Seb get hurt. You were pulled out of your thoughts when a knock was heard at the door. Your heart stopped for a moment, slowly making your way over. An envelope soon slipped through the door. You smiled when you saw the familiar handwriting, trying to quickly but delicately open the letter. You sat down in front of the fireplace, the fire roaring, the coffee table scattered with previous letters Sebastian had sent you over the time he had been drafted. You read every word carefully, knowing this was all you had of him during this trying time. You held onto every line, every little scribble he made.

You pressed the letter into your chest, tears welling in your eyes. You couldn’t even imagine what he was going through right now, all the things he had seen. You took a shaky breath, rereading the letter a couple of times before you placed it with the other letters. You made haste, getting up and making your way into the kitchen, grabbing the closest piece of paper and pen.

My love…

Crowds of people lined the streets, confetti on the ground, and cheering was heard all over. You waited impatiently on the platform, the same platform that your love had left you on. A big smile was on your face as you heard a distant train whistle. You bit your lip in excitement, not knowing how to even contain it. Your man was finally home. War was over. The axis had lost. America was happier than ever. The large train soon rolled into the station, and groups of men in their suits had practically run off the train, happy to be home. You got on your tiptoes, trying to find Sebastian through the crowd of people. You felt a tap on your shoulder, making you spin on your heel, seeing a set of piercing blue eyes. “Seb!” You exclaimed, grabbing his face, and pulling him into a kiss. He laughed on your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist, deepening the kiss, which made you dip slightly.

Your hands soon made their way into his hair as one of his hands went up your back, holding the back of your head. His tongue grazed your lips, and you happily welcomed it. He groaned quietly on your lips, soon pulling away for air. You let out a breath, resting your forehead against his. “I missed you so much, you don’t even know.” He told you, holding you as close to him as possible. “Me too.” You said breathlessly, a big smile on your face, pulling him into another kiss.

“Wait, Wait, Wait. Slow down.” Your fiance said with a chuckle. You had been rambling to him on the phone, more photos in your hand. You had tried to explain to him that in a lot of the photos, you had seen him and yourself. But being you, you had just spoken a million words a minute, so he could barely understand. “Hold on, I just found another good photo.” You said, not continuing to try and explain to him since you got distracted. In your hands was a photo of a couple, who looked to be about 17. The girl was in a yellow dress, her hair all done up. The boy was in a tuxedo and his hair was gelled back, their hands intertwined, big smiles on their faces. You flipped the photo around, finding writing on the back. Spring Dance. 1958.

“Which brought me back to the first time I saw you Time stood still like somethin' in this old shop”

5 Years Ago

You had been dragged by your friends to a small gathering, you complaining the whole way. All you wanted to do was stay at home, read a book, and watch TV. But your friends had insisted on you coming. “Y/N, you have to go. They’re gonna have your favorite food there. Trust me.” One of your friends said, dragging you out of your bed. “Still, I don’t wanna go. You guys will be fine without me.” You said, groaning when they still pulled you up. “Pleaseee, for us? We will never ask you again.” Your other friend said, giving you fake puppy eyes. You sighed, looking at your bed. You knew they would still ask you another time, but did you want them to “use this against you” next time you didn’t want to go.

After you made a quick pros and cons list in your head, you made up your mind. With a sigh, you answered, “Fine, I’ll go.” The girls cheered, quickly pulling you to your closet to get you ready. Now you were here, standing near a wall with a drink in your hand. To say you regret going was an understatement. It was packed, the music a bit too loud, people dancing, and it was not a good day for you. You took a sip of your drink, an arm wrapped around your stomach as you leaned up against a wall, observing the room. Your eyes soon stopped, landing on a pair of blue eyes.

You felt your breath hitch slightly, everything around you suddenly stopping. The man had the prettiest eyes you had ever seen, his hair contrasting them, it being a light shade of brown. He gave you a wide smile, his eyes creasing slightly. Everything suddenly felt right to you, you needed to know more about him. What was his favorite color? What was his coffee order? What was his favorite song? Did he have any siblings? You soon felt overwhelmed, breaking eye contact, taking a sip of your drink as the world started to move again. Little did you know, Sebastian had already excused himself, making his way over to you.

Once you turned your head back, he was in front of you, making you jump slightly. “Oh my god, you scared me.” You said with a slight giggle, looking up at him. He chuckled as well, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare such a beautiful woman.” He said, the words making you blush slightly. “What’s your name by the way?” He asked you, holding his hand out. “Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” You told him with a smile, taking his hand to shake. “And you?” “Sebastian Wilder.” He replied, keeping your hand in his for a little longer than he should’ve for a handshake. But neither of you minded, something in you already trusted him.

You put the picture down with the others on the counter, running your fingers over them lightly. “I’ll try to explain everything later. I love you.” You told your fiance through the phone, smiling softly. “Okay,” He chuckled, “I love you too, see you soon.” He said, soon hanging up. You put the pictures you had out back into the box, letting your eyes linger on it for a couple more seconds before making your way deeper into the store. You loved stores like these, feeling like time stops for just a moment, as you look at things time has forgotten about. As you make your way to the back, you stumble upon a dusty book with cobwebs tying it to the bookshelf. You carefully grab it, wiping the cobwebs off of it. You lay it flat in your hands, blowing the dust off of the old book. You ran your fingers over the now brown and worn pages. Skimming through it, it entrances you. A love story set a couple hundred years back. A princess has a forbidden romance with one of the neighboring princes; the two kingdoms are at war. An affair that fate tears apart. A romantic tragedy.

“In the fifteen hundreds off in a foreign land And I was forced to marry another man”

1500’s

Tears fall as you lie on the ground of your bed chambers, your head in your hands. You’re engulfed by the white fabric of your dress, your maid adding the finishing touches to your dress. You were set to get married in two weeks' time to the Duke of Yester. Your father had found out about your love affair with the kingdom they were at war with, which was not too good for you, or him. They had forbidden you from seeing him, by forcing you into a loveless marriage with a suffering kingdom, to help them and make the two kingdoms more powerful. He threatened that if you were to be seen with Sebastian, he was to be killed, which would only worsen the war.

What were you to do without your love? How would you get his letters? You would never see him again. You didn’t want to get him killed, you don’t know how you could live knowing that you killed him. So never seeing him again and knowing he was alive would satisfy you. “Your Highness, what is the matter? You’ve been inconsolable all morning.”, Your maid asked, wiping the hair away from your face. She was a mother figure towards you, your mother having died during childbirth. She was the only person you could trust, other than your Sebastian. You sniffled, quickly wiping your tears. “The King, he’s marrying me off to a wretched Prince, who does not care for me. I do not love him, Marie.” You said, starting to sob again. Marie quickly wrapped her arms around you, rubbing your arm to console you.

“Marie, what I am about to tell you, you are not warranted to tell anybody else.” You told her after you had calmed down slightly, looking up at her. “I will not, Your Highness, I would never.” She told you honestly, giving you a small smile.

You nodded, taking a deep breath, “Prince Sebastian, he is my love. The King found out and forbade me to see him, or he is to be killed.” You told her quietly, looking down at the ground to stop yourself from crying even more.

“Oh Your Highness, do not worry. For love is one of the most powerful things this world has to offer. If you really love him, I would run to be with him.” She told you, making you look up at her with a gasp. “Marie, are you saying..?” You asked, looking into her eyes as she nodded. “Yes, if you love him, and he loves you, run away. You do not want this loveless marriage.” She encouraged, “I will have not known a thing.”

How did you not think of this before? You and Sebastian could finally be happy, away from war, away from your father, away from everything. “Marie, you are like a mother to me.’ You told her, wrapping your arms around her tightly. “Thank you, Your Highness.” She replied, her arms tightening around you.

You soon pulled away with a smile, slowly getting off as you wiped your dress off. “I am to make plans with the Prince then. We will ride as soon as we can.” You said, making your way to your desk. “Marie, would you be able to send a personal letter for me?”

The moon shone brightly into your room, the large balcony doors open. The curtains swayed lightly as the breeze came by, the candlelight was the only other light in the room, the orange hue bouncing off the walls. You laid in your bed, your back away from the balcony as you tried to sleep, but to no avail, you could not.

Pow Pow Pow

You turned your body, quickly sitting up at the noise. You looked over towards your window, little pebbles now seen on the balcony.

Pow Pow Pow

You smiled, removing the covers from yourself as you ran out onto the balcony, your hands landing on the railing as you looked below.

“Sebastian, you came!” You said happily, slightly breathless. Your eyes scanned over him, his hair slightly messy, only wearing a flowy white button-up shirt and a pair of black pants. A couple of the buttons had been unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. This was the least amount of clothes you had seen him in, ever. Or anybody for that matter. Your brain had gone into overload, not knowing how to comprehend it. He looked irrevocably handsome, and you didn’t know what to do about it. “You sent for me.” He said, an adorable smile on his face as he looked up at you.

He looked behind him, making sure no one had been following him before making his way to the ivy that was on the side. Slowly, he made his way up to the balcony’s edge. You held out your hand for him once he got to the ledge, helping him jump over. “I never thought I would see you again.” He said, his hands gently cupping your cheeks as he gazed into your eyes. “Me either, my love.” You said, resting your hands on top of his, bashfully looking up at him, but not meeting his eyes. “What is the matter?” He asked you, moving your head slightly to make you look into his eyes. You licked your lips, your mouth feeling slightly dry as you tried to think of an answer. How were you to tell him that the way he was dressed at the moment made you hot? “M-my prince, I,” You started, soon stopping to try to put it into words. “I have never seen you like this before.” You told him honestly, your hands moving to the unbuttoned collar of his shirt.

You let your eyes wander down as well, seeing his tanned skin poke out slightly, your breath hitching. He couldn’t help but chuckle, raising an eyebrow at you. “Y/N, you are the most beautiful woman I have laid eyes on.” He told you, pulling your lips into a searing kiss. You were caught off guard, moaning lightly into the kiss as your hands ran up to his neck, pulling him closer. You were the first to pull away, needing to get air as you looked up at him, a mouth agape. The look in his eyes was terrifying yet exhilarating, the blue now completely gone. You soon pulled him back in, the kiss becoming messier and more lustful. His hands made their way to just under your butt, getting a good grip on your thighs as he picked you up, making you gasp onto his lips. You giggled, letting your legs wrap around his waist as he carried you inside the candlelit room, making his way toward your bed. He gently laid you down, following you quickly after as he got on top of you, letting his hands wander over to your hips. “Is this okay?” He asked breathlessly against your lips. You nodded, one hand in his hair, the other around his neck. His hands slowly made their way down to your nightgown, slowly starting to lift it. He pulled away from your lips, looking into your eyes as he pulled it off and over your head. “You’re so beautiful.” He repeated, his lips soon crashing back into yours.

You had snuck into the castle’s stables a couple of hours later, a few sacks packed and ready to go. “Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask him as you get onto the horse, your hand still in his from when he helped you on. “My love, I’m sure. I want to be with you, no matter what it takes.” He said, sincerity dripping from his voice. You gave him a smile, nodding your head as you squeezed his hand. As the morning sun started to rise, a light downpour had started, the ground quickly becoming muddy. Sebastian started to his horse, his footsteps trailing behind him. A booming voice made you jump, turning your horse to look. “Father, I-” “Y/N, what did I tell you about that boy!” The King yelled, quickly padding over to you.

He grabbed your arm, pulling you off of your horse. Sebastian quickly ran to you but got there too late. You had already hit the ground, your dress now all muddy. He wrapped his arms around you, looking down at you, “Are you okay??” He asked you, panicked. You only had tears welling in your eyes, looking up at your father, “Father, please! I do not love that man, my life belongs to Sebastian!” The man scoffed, shaking his head, “You are mistaken, you do not love each other. You do not know what love is,” He said, soon looking over at Sebastian, “I let you live free when I caught you with my daughter the first time. Now you have disrespected me, the King. You humiliated me.”

The King grabbed onto the collar of Sebastian's shirt and quickly pulled him off of you: Sebastian thrashed around to try to get out of his grip, but it was no use. Your eyes widened, shaking your head, “Father, no! Please, don’t do this to him. I love him!” You sobbed, scrambling to try to get over to them. In a matter of seconds, the King drew a dagger, and raised it above his head, plunging right into Sebastian’s chest. You screamed, running over to your father, trying to pull him off of your love, but he was just too strong.

You fell onto the floor, crawling up to Sebastian. “Seb, please, please stay with me.” You sobbed, watching as he struggled to breathe. You wiped his now-damp hair out of his face, resting your forehead against his. “I love you, I love you so much.” You said, his bloody hand shakily reaching up to your face, giving you a tired smile. “Shh, it’s okay, my love.” He said, strained, wiping his thumb across your cheek. “I love you.” He said in a whisper, pressing a weak but loving kiss onto your lips as you wept.

You pulled away, searching his eyes, trying to convince yourself he would make it. “It’s going to be okay… okay?” He told you, it was a promise. You shook your head, letting out a sad chuckle, “It won’t be, not without you.” You said, tears falling down your cheek. “I… I love you..” He croaked out one last time before his hand slowly went limp, falling into his lap. You let out a sob, wrapping your arms around him, and sobbing into his chest. What were you supposed to do without him? You were alone, except for Marie. Your one and only love was gone.

You pulled away, letting your fingers gently close his eyes as you sobbed. You looked down, looking at the blood that was slowly pooling onto his clothes and mixing with the mud. You were without love, forever alone in the world. The dagger caught your eye, your mind clouded with thought. Love. War. Loneliness. You could be forever happy if you just.. Your hand made its way to the dagger, slowly pulling it out of Sebastian. You took a deep breath, holding it up to your heart as you looked up at the sky. You closed your eyes, letting the raindrops fall onto your skin. “I love you..” You whispered, soon plunging the dagger into your heart. Your now lifeless body falling limp next to Sebastian’s, the blood trickling down into the mud, pooling together.

You closed the book, letting the book rest under your arm as you walked back to the counter. You placed the book down next to the register, heading over to the box of photos. You grabbed the small stack you had created, placing it on top of the book with a smile. “I’ve never seen you around here before, are you new?” The woman asked with a smile, starting to put the items into the system. “Yeah, I just moved here with my fiance about a week ago. I thought it would be a good idea to explore a bit, I only live a couple blocks down or so.” You told the older woman. “That’s amazing. I hope you guys like it here, I’ve lived here my whole life so, I’m a little biased.” She said with a small laugh, making you let out a little chuckle. “I’m Marie by the way, I’m the owner of this little place.” She told you as you pulled out your wallet. You smiled, “I’m Y/N, it’s very nice to meet you. And this place is so lovely, I’m gonna have to come in here more often. There’s so much in here.” You said, looking around a bit. “Yeah, so much history in here. Ever since my great-grandmother opened it, it’s been a sliver in time.” She told you, “That’ll be $7.50 please.” She told you, pushing the items closer to you. You handed her the cash, carefully placing your items in your tote bag. “Thank you so much Marie, I hope to see you again.” You said, giving her a wave as you walked out, the bell chiming behind you.

“Babe, you will not believe what I got.” You said, kicking your shoes off as you closed the door. You walked out of the hallway, soon being met with arms wrapping around you, pulling you into a deep kiss. Your hands landed on his face, smiling into the kiss. You pulled away, breathless, smiling up at him. “Tell me all about it, you sounded pretty excited on the phone,” Sebastian said, grabbing your bag from you. You thanked him, leading him over to the couch. You grabbed the photos from your bag, your man plopping next to you. His arm rested behind you on the couch, getting himself comfortable before pulling you into his lap. “I might sound crazy, but some of these photos reminded me of us. I don’t know why.” You told him with full honesty. He chuckled, gently grabbing the photos from your hand, and starting to look through them. “Where did you get these?” He asked you, looking over at you, a soft look in his eyes. “At ‘Jolie’s Antiques’, it’s a couple of streets down from here. It’s a really cute antique store.” You said, resting your head on his shoulder. “Can I come with you next time?” “Of course you can.”

(erm i kinda rushed the ending its not proofread at all and its currently 2:37am lord help me. ANYWAYS THIS HAS BEEN A WIP FOR FOREVER I LOVE RYAN GOSLING)

[jupiter049]

As I dive deeper into the Chibnall era while I wouldn't say I love it I'm slowly getting more and more bothered about how the 60th anniversary specials dealt with it, particularly 'The Giggle'. Like, the fact The Doctor name dropped a random one off villain from a mostly lost 60s serial while Yaz doesn't get a single mention is actual insanity.

[robingivesmemagic]

obsessed w this robin that was featured in a collection of fan design concepts

[whenthegoldrays]

Taylor Swift x my favorite ships • Part 14

Im Sol x Ryu Sun Jae (Lovely Runner)

So High School

“And in the blink of a crinkling eye, I’m sinking, our fingers entwined / Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights / Tell me ‘bout the first time you saw me” // “It’s true, swear, scout’s honor, you knew what you wanted and, boy, you got her”

Not only did Sol literally go back to high school and fall in love with Sun Jae there, but even their relationship as adults is the sweetest fluffiest thing. They both get to make up for years of loneliness and grief with just being happy together like a couple of teenagers (or college kids).

Timeless

“And somehow I know that you and I would’ve found each other / In another life, you still would’ve turned my head” // “Story of a romance torn apart by fate / Hundreds of years ago, they fell in love like we did / And I’d die for you in the same way”

Sun Jae falling head over heels for Sol in every timeline! On impact! Even when Sol tries to rewrite it to save his life, he doesn’t care! He just wants her! He’ll die for her if necessary! (But thankfully, in the end, it isn’t.) They really were supposed to find this.

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

‘The timeless child means that river would have to be Amy and the doctors daughter’

Hey, hey come here, I have something to tell you. Ignore the hammer

[potterandpromises]

It is very funny to me that my two biggest OTPs of all time are both ships where:

They started out as antagonists to each other due to circumstance.

One accidentally killed/erased the other's loved one.

One kidnapped the other in the first season.

Then in the second season they proceeded to bond over being the only people who could possibly understand what the other was going through.

(And they're both so domestic about it!)

They each had a moment of waking up in the other's room/apartment without entirely remembering how they got there. Both in the 2x07 of their respective shows.

And after they woke up their partners made them coffee.

[ipictureitsoftandiache]

[NOT your personal favorite, but the most Taylor Swift™️ Taylor Swift song, in your opinion]

[nerdyenby]

I swear dead girl media (tm) is a thing but I was having a hard time thinking of examples so here’s a list

Marvel’s Runaways (Amy)

Ducktales 2017 (Della)

Big Hero 6 (Tadashi, it doesn’t have to be a girl)

Raya and the Last Dragon (Sisu isn’t properly dead but people thought she was)

Miraculous (Emilie)

Lightyear (Alisha)

Secret Invasion (Maria)

Into the Spiderverse (blond Peter)

Proxy (Marie)

Hawkeye (Natasha)

The Dragon Prince (Harrow)

Dead End: Paranormal Park (Jennifer Swan)

Timeless (Amy and Jessica)

Dead girl media (tm) is not my original terminology. It describes a piece of fiction in which the world, characters, conflict, and/or general premise are all shape by the (presumed) death of a supporting character — usually a woman — before or early on in the events of the story

[titanicnerd-blog]

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Timeless (TV 2016) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston, Jiya & Lucy Preston Characters: Future Lucy Preston, Garcia Flynn, Future Jiya (Timeless), Connor Mason, Denise Christopher, Anthony Bruhl Additional Tags: Mentioned Rufus Carlin, Timeless AU, Rittenhouse (Timeless), Time Travel Fix-It, recreating the time team, no wyatt here, Future Fic, Garcia Flynn Deserves Better, Pre-Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston, Soft Garcia Flynn, Endgame Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston, POV Lucy Preston, Lucy Preston's Journal, Badass Lucy Preston, timeless season 1 AU, Mason Industries (Timeless), this isn't sao paulo, ok it is but it isn't, turning timeless on it's head, Sad with a Happy Ending Summary:

Garcia Flynn: “There's a room at Mason Industries, it's in the basement, almost forgotten, but Lucy showed it to me one time. It’s full of documents, photos, letters, all the times that other Lucy's and other Garcia's found each other, some with time travel and Rittenhouse involved, others without any of those elements. It was her way of telling me, of showing me, that we belong together, in every way, in any time and place. There were some common times: 1937, 2014, 1893, 1912, and some common places: São Paulo, Paris, New York, Chicago, Manchester, NJ, and Stanford. Lots of accounts show us meeting in a bar, and the journal is a common theme.” Flynn cleared his throat. “We... we are married in almost all accounts.” At this, Lucy suspected he was blushing, although she couldn’t see him clearly in the dark. “Sometimes there are children, sometimes not. The other Lucy said that we were once one being that became separated, and this was why we always seem drawn to each other.”

[randomwriteronline]

@fraymotiif fo yo fren

At first, the twins alternated between following him everywhere like Duckletts that accidentally imprinted on a Seadra and skittishly disappearing behind walls or corners the moment he tried to turn towards them.

Figuring out the steps of the dance they were tentatively leading around him was proving to be a bit of a careful balancing act, one he wasn’t quite used to - at least not to this degree. Marshal had been awfully frightened by him when he’d first met him too, after all, but he was three years old; the boys were fifteen, almost sixteen by now, and yet they still behaved like toddlers interacting with someone they know only vaguely.

Touch was far from a problem, that was certain: as soon as they’d figured out they could lean onto him whenever they wanted they had no trouble holding onto his arms or bumping into him so that he’d ruffle their hair.

The trouble seemed to start from their room.

They were horribly nervous about anything and everything that could have been inside of it - although he knew it couldn’t be much, let alone anything to be embarassed or secretive about, since most of their belongings he’d already seen when they’d emptied their backpacks and they’d really been barely more than the bare necessities.

Drayden knew better than to snoop around in a Dragon’s den uninvited, so he would let them sit there for hours on their own, doing who knew what.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious. But he couldn’t really just ask them.

He’d tried!

The answer had been a couple uncoordinated shrugs and a quick ‘nothing’ meant to distance him.

In the end, he supposed the only way to find that out would have been for them to decide to make him participant to whatever they did back in there and simply tell him upfront by themselves.

“You can’t!”

“Why not? What’s so wrong about it?”

“You can’t! You can’t!”

Or for them to argue loud enough, that too.

“If you just repeat that I can’t understand what the wrong part is!” this was Ingo.

“You can’t!” and this was Emmet. “It messes it up! Messes everything up!”

“What does it mess up?”

“Eelektrik!”

Ah - that explained why he was so upset; he loved that levitating lamprey almost as much as his brother, or trains. He adored parading it over his shoulders like a sentient scarf, and once or twice Drayden had even seen him fearlessly hold that terrible mouth close to his face as he slept, without a single worry.

“Oh, well, of course it messes him up. That’s the point.”

“You can’t do that!”

It seemed weird that Ingo would want to hurt his younger twin’s ace, though.

Unless it was a matter of battling, in which case he would have definitely run that poor thing over without hesitation or second thoughts.

“Yes I can!”

“You can’t! You can’t!”

“Yes I can! It’s a strategy like any other!”

“It’s not! It’s not! This one it’s not!”

“You just say that because it's really powerful and it neutralizes your favorite!”

“Yes!”

Drayden’s citrine eyes fell through the crack of the slightly opened door: he caught a glimpse of the heavily scribbled page of a notebook, red and green ink all over the paper, upon a stark white black-lined background between folded legs that were clearly getting more and more agitated as the squabble went on.

“Something the matter, boys?” he asked as he knocked gently.

The door slid open a little bit at that. He barely had the time to peek through that the notebook was gone, spirited away with a slight of hand that maybe wasn’t particularly graceful but certainly honed by practice.

Both twins, sitting half hunched and crosslegged on the beds they’d pushed together as they often did, turned to him with near matching innocent expressions, honestly surprised by his appearance but feigning ignorance. They raised their chins at him in tandem in a silent candid question.

“Thought I’d heard you arguing,” Drayden explained.

Emmet shrugged - a fluid motion that shook his arms outwards.

“We were just reading,” Ingo replied, straining his voice into sounding calm as he patted a large book of their on the history of trains in Sinnoh.

Hm. They probably used that as a desk.

The man shook his head lightly, playing a little into their pantomime: “Then I must be getting old and hearing things. You sounded like you were discussing battle strategies,” and before they could startle he changed his tone to reassure them of whatever they were worried about: “If that were the case, I would have been happy to help you figure them out.”

He looked at the twins a little longer, waiting as it dawned on them that he was, indeed, a Gym Leader, and asking him for help on the topic would have, indeed, made sense, while hiding it away from him very much did not.

They retreated a little sheepish into their own shoulders.

Finally the eldest shyly pulled out the battered notebook from beneath himself and presented it to their uncle, who carefully entered their domain to take a seat by them in the way one tiptoes their uninvited way through the den of a very disgruntled mothering Hydreigon.

“We were, uhm... We were planning our teams,” the boy showed him, pointing at his narrow red calligraphy and his twin’s blockier green handwriting.

Two mirrored columns divided in six rows were compiled with a few Pokémon names, other spaces instead left blank; two more had a label above them which read ‘type’, followed by another couple labeled as ‘ability’, then another pair bearing the sign of ‘item’, and finally much larger two meant to house the party member’s moveset. It was an incredibly meticulous job, Drayden noted with his fair share of marvel.

“You’re real thorough,” he nodded thoughtfully.

Emmet smiled, very much proud of their work; Ingo cleared his throat, adjusting his seat a little to try and not let his fluster show: “And we - and we got to, to this point here - see? This slot here. I was - I thought, I wanted to get - uhm...”

“Earthquake,” Drayden read aloud: “A powerful move.”

Embarassed by his stuttering, Ingo just nodded.

“Paired with... Mold Breaker? For an ability?” his uncle continued with an encouraging tone: “That’s a very good combination.”

“He can’t use it,” Emmet instantly butted in, very piqued.

His brother snapped out of his mortification to glare daggers at him: “Yes I can,” he rebutted.

“No!” and he threw a pen at the elder.

Drayden caught it inn midair without thinking, handing it back over to Emmet: “And why can’t he?”

“Because he can’t!”

“He’s just mad that it would put Eelektrik on the ground to get quaked.”

"Eelektrik has no weaknesses! I want him to keep having no weaknesses!”

“An opponent with Gastro Acid could do the same thing,” their uncle noted.

“But they’d waste a turn!” the younger whined: “Maybe they wouldn’t have Ground moves. Or Eelektrik could paralyze them. Or K.O. them. Mold Breaker is instant! It’s not fair.”

“It’s plenty fair!” Ingo argued.

“It’s cheap!”

“No it’s not, it’s a good strategy!”

“Cheap!”

“Boys.”

They both immediately fell quiet.

He ruffled their hair to reassure them he was not mad at them; they leaned against his palms.

“There’s surely plenty of ways to counter that, or at least minimize the damage,” Drayden said, watching Emmet pout and huff as he validated the fairness of Ingo’s plan. “I should have a Fraxure around your partners’ level who’s just the gal for this. We can try out some counters with her right now, how’s that sound?”

“Oh!” the eldest startled a little. He searched for his brother’s matching surprised eyes: “Right - right now?”

“I mean, if you have time.”

“No, it’s--”

“We need to plan,” the youngest explained.

Their uncle furrowed his brows, puzzled: “Plan what?”

“Counters!”

“We can’t battle if we - if we don’t figure out how to do something first.”

“We need to plan.”

“Otherwise we’ll end up failing and losing, and we’d have to start over again.”

“Yup.”

“It’s to save time.”

“Yup.”

Save time... Save time...

Drayden tilted his head: “Save time for what?”

“For battling.” Emmet repeated.

Ingo twisted the pen in his hand: “We don’t get many occasions.”

Well... As open-minded as he might have been, that sounded a little silly.

It really wasn’t the hardest thing in the world, trying to find someone to train with. There were plenty of over-enthusiastic juvenile trainers running about cities and routes, anxious for any chance at a good battle against anybody who happened to meet their impatient eyes - as a matter of fact, he was fairly certain that if they’d taken a stroll down the park instead of staying cooped up in their room it wouldn’t have taken long at all for them to find an opponent each. Hell, if they spent just thirty minutes there they would probably get their schedules all filled out with battledates from other eager kids.

Were they scared of something? Or were they just particularly sore losers? The younger might have, with how fussy about Eelektrik he was. He could understand not wanting to see a favorite defeated, but acting like that wasn’t going to do him any favours if he was looking to become a gym leader.

Why would he want to be a gym leader. He never mentioned anything about wanting to be a gym leader. Why did he think that. This wasn’t the time to think about successors. Stop that. Bad Drayden. Bad.

“So you two haven’t found a moment to practice at all till now?” he asked.

The twins held his gaze for a moment as their heads timidly retreated into their shoulders like those of Tirtougas before their eyes fell on the bedsheets.

It took him another moment for it to click.

Ah.

His sister had always been fairly irritable when it came to battling, after all.

Of course she’d dictate whether or not they’d be allowed to best her.

Or even at least try to.

And he didn’t really know what that hack of her husband was like, but certainly he wasn’t a shining example of fairness either.

He clapped his wide hands gently, quietly, just to get the boys’ attention back on himself: “Well,” he commented in a jovial tone, “I reckon you should have all the time you might need to do what you want nowadays, wouldn’t you say?”

He looked at the words being processed in real time on the twins’ faces.

A moment more...

Oh.

Oh! Yes.

Yes, they did.

They could practice, now.

Whenever they wanted. Or almost, at least - there would be times when they wouldn’t, due to force majeure, like homework or meals or sleeping or other things, but - they could practice. They could train.

Whenever they wanted.

“You should get some exercise yourselves too,” Drayden noted, “You’re all skin and bones, poor knuckerlings. But nothing some wrassling and good food can’t fix. I can help with that too, don’t worry.”

“Too?” Ingo repeated. “As- as in you - we can, we could train our Pokémon with you? Too?”

“Wrassle?” echoes instead Emmet. “We wrassle?”

“Yes one and yes two.”

If they’d been a little meatier, they would have tackled him right off the bed and into a possible concussion on the floor with that hug. So on one hand, good; on the other, since he barely even budged, he needed to start scheduling regular sessions for them as soon as possible. With the first one today, hopefully.

He picked them both up effortlessly, their langly legs dangling a few inches from the floor: “So! You wanna try out some of those counters now?”

His ears rung for a hot second from their response.

“And then we wrassle you?” the younger insisted.

“Sweet Dragons, not me! I’d knock you clean out!” their uncle replied, hoisting them up on his shoulders like sacks of flour so he could fetch their notebook and Pokéballs while they dangled up there safe from danger: “Fraxure’s gonna show you the basics!”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” the eldest argued.

“If it were, I don’t think the Lophiris family would’ve survived as long as we did!”

[toripar]

The Battle Underground

@ttpdpoetryweek : timeless x the great war

Our cheeks were crimson under the clouds

Warmth in our hearts the sun could replicate

But the cold of the world seeped in through

Cracks in your façade and my beaten fate

I would give up my given name to serve you

Be your Betty till the world would stand still

Pale faces stuck out of place looking for us

We would run until their guns find us and kill

The world was red, blue and a blur of violence

Your hands were ever so cold to the touch

My matted hair like the clouds the day we met

We would be called an example by your church

I wish we were born in a day brighter than that

You could walk my garden unbidden, unhidden

I would make petunias bloom out of your chest

For all that we love we would never be forbidden

Even in a different life you would've been mine

We didn't survive the war, didn't survive the hate

Our love would've persisted, it would've lived on

Find me later dearest, seal our lips, seal our fate

[marietheran]

No, you don't get it: the most tragic thing to ever happen in any of Lucy Maud Montgomery's books is that Anne would have been around 90 by the time The Lord of the Rings was published - and she would have loved it so...

And she absolutely did live to read it (look, I get to make the rules; it's canon from now on) but imagine her having access to it as a teen! Then, she definitely wasn't there to read The Silmarillion and these books were just written for her, you know...

(sad noises)