what: Doctor & River Appreciation Day #2
when: 22nd of April 2014
why this day? because it’s yet another anniversary of the wedding that happened in 'the wedding of river song'!
(3rd anniversary, in case you’re wondering. time flies.)I know it’s a bit short notice, but I simply forgot about it, I’m sorry.
what do we do: the usual: gifs, graphics, metas, fanmixes, fanart, fics, a list recommending your favourite fics, videos… whatever tickles your pickle, whatever you have time to make, whatever you want to make.
how do we tag it? let’s tag it with #river doctor appreciation day. I know that it’s long, but there’s nothing I can do about it. remember to use it as one of the first 5 tags, otherwise it won’t show up in tracked tags.
anything else? spread the word. participate if you want to. have fun. see you - hopefully - on April 22nd!
"You can love more than one person." Of course you can. But marriage is something different. Marriage is memory, marriage is time. [x]
And that’s the tragedy of living.
This is old (I asked for prompts a few weeks ago and didn’t get ‘round to them all) but I’m crabby and unfocused so if anybody wants to send me prompts tonight you’re highly encouraged to do so~
River’s got a scar behind her left ear from an unfortunate incident with an entirely unnecessary curling iron. It’s at stark odds with the pale ridge of skin that snakes its way just below it, stopping at the side of her jaw and usually hidden by hair left by a rapier wielded against her during training when she was twelve, give or take.
He pieces together her story over the years, bits of horror and mundanity and trauma and romance written onto her skin like a story he gets to read those rare times she sheds her armor and lets him in.
- What, like an ex?
- Yes, an ex.
I realized I’ve just forgotten something else as well, something very important, which by the time I hang up, no matter how hard I try, I can no longer remember what I’d meant to remember when whatever it was had first entered my head.
Or had it?
Maybe it hadn’t entered my head at all. Maybe it had just brushed past me, like someone easing by in a dark room, the face lost in shadow, my thoughts lost in another conversation, though something in her movement or perfume is disturbingly familiar, though how familiar is impossible to tell because by the time I realize she’s someone I should know she’s already gone, deep in the din, beyond the bar, taking with her any chance of recognition. Though she hasn’t left. She’s still there. Embracing shadows.
Is it it?
Had I been thinking about a woman?
I don’t know.
I hope it doesn’t matter.
I have a terrifying feeling it does. || [x]