abgroovy:

Clara was on Gallifrey.  Which means one of her echoes was a time lady.  

At one point Clara was a time lady.


doctorwho:

The Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Special premieres November 23, 2013

doctorwho:

The Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Special premieres November 23, 2013


llwlyn:

^Every Whovian’s reaction when John Hurt’s face came on screen

llwlyn:

^Every Whovian’s reaction when John Hurt’s face came on screen


gay-men:

spamanos:

touching

Growing up in a world not quite ready for you is never easy. At least she has an understanding family though.


   lgbt   trans

damndestcreature:

peachsleep:

karz4kidz:

bittergrapes:

faeiouck:

MY SISTER JUFT SHOEWED ME THIS AND I CAN”T STOP FREAKIN ABOUT IT

LIKE THIS GIRL IS A FUCKIN DEMON OR SOMEIHTGN

JUST WATCH IT

I have lost faith in physics

what on this fucking earth

i would die happy if i was able to do this

Real life Oriana


wyte-one-thousand:

pleiadian-princess:

radagastlovesyou:


you-are-another-me:


There is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.
And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.


This is the most amazing thing I have ever read.


THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL IM ALMOST TEARING UP

Reblog for eternity.

wyte-one-thousand:

pleiadian-princess:

radagastlovesyou:

you-are-another-me:

There is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.


And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.



In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.



The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.

And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.

You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.

This is the most amazing thing I have ever read.

THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL IM ALMOST TEARING UP

Reblog for eternity.


Reblog if you’ve ever smelled a book. My mom thinks I’m crazy. 

startwiththeridingcrop:

ageofrogues:

ilikelookingatnakedmen:

Huh? I thought everyone did that?

I love doing this. Especially older books.

I think I get weird looks in waterstones because of this.



m33wlin:

lauraforgood:

m33wlin:

WE WERE WATCHING THIS MOVIE IN GYM AND THE MAIN CHARACTER WAS LIKE “I’M TIRED AND HUNGRY AND HORNY” AND ME AT THIS OTHER CUTE GUY IN THE BACK JUST BOTH GO “SAME” AND LOOK AT EACH OTHER AND I WINKED AND EVERYONE WAS SO UNCOMFORTABLE BUT I WAS LAUGHING REALLY HARD AND THIS IS WHY I DONT HAVE FRIENDS

can we have a tumblr marriage for you guys?

image

seems legit


e-slut:

things! not! to! say! to! asexuals!:

  • ‘aren’t you just asexual becuase no one likes you?’
  • ‘asexuality isn’t even real’
  • ‘you’ll grow out of it’
  • ‘well do you masturbate?’
  • anything of or pertaining to amoebas
  • ‘so does that mean you’re gonna die alone then?’
  • ‘you don’t dress like an asexual’

how do we supposedly dress??


   asexual   lgbt

$69.99: alright you ridiculous people let me give you a low down on actor john... 

keiumi:

alright you ridiculous people let me give you a low down on actor john hurt so i can stop seeing you scream “WHO IS JOHN HURT” because that is offensive and silly

John Hurt is an actor, he is spectacular, and these are three of the (many) movies he has been in: V for Vendetta, Alien, and…


doctorwho:

clarabosswald:

souffleclara:

ATTENTION EVERYONE

ATTENTION EVERYONE

THE FANDOM IS COLLAPSING

I REPEAT

THE FANDOM IS COLLAPSING

BREAKING INTO A MILLION PIECES JUST LIKE CLARA

image


WHAT?????!!!!!!!!!!! 

hhndollfie:


beatles-crazy:

IT’S SETTING IT UP FOR THE 50TH OH MY HOLY GOD I CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS RIGHNT NWO


Somewhere in paradox space… 

derpyanthropologist:

The ninth doctor is screaming his future self is an idiot for the giant ass paradox he created.

The tenth doctor offers him a banana in hopes it will calm him down.