Breathe a Little

itsstrongertolove:

walkamongstthestars:

sherlocked-inside-the-tardis:

mrpondismypatronus:

deduce-me-e:

gomenne:

girlthrualookingglass:

Julio Diaz has a daily routine. Every night, the 31-year-old social worker ends his hour-long subway commute to the Bronx one stop early, just so he can eat at his favorite diner.

But one night last month, as Diaz stepped off the No. 6 train and onto a nearly empty platform, his evening took an unexpected turn.

He was walking toward the stairs when a teenage boy approached and pulled out a knife.

“He wants my money, so I just gave him my wallet and told him, ‘Here you go,’” Diaz says.

As the teen began to walk away, Diaz told him, “Hey, wait a minute. You forgot something. If you’re going to be robbing people for the rest of the night, you might as well take my coat to keep you warm.”

The would-be robber looked at his would-be victim, “like what’s going on here?” Diaz says. “He asked me, ‘Why are you doing this?’”

Diaz replied: “If you’re willing to risk your freedom for a few dollars, then I guess you must really need the money. I mean, all I wanted to do was get dinner and if you really want to join me … hey, you’re more than welcome.

“You know, I just felt maybe he really needs help,” Diaz says.

Diaz says he and the teen went into the diner and sat in a booth.

“The manager comes by, the dishwashers come by, the waiters come by to say hi,” Diaz says. “The kid was like, ‘You know everybody here. Do you own this place?’”

“No, I just eat here a lot,” Diaz says he told the teen. “He says, ‘But you’re even nice to the dishwasher.’”

Diaz replied, “Well, haven’t you been taught you should be nice to everybody?”

“Yea, but I didn’t think people actually behaved that way,” the teen said.

Diaz asked him what he wanted out of life. “He just had almost a sad face,” Diaz says.

The teen couldn’t answer Diaz — or he didn’t want to.

When the bill arrived, Diaz told the teen, “Look, I guess you’re going to have to pay for this bill ‘cause you have my money and I can’t pay for this. So if you give me my wallet back, I’ll gladly treat you.”

The teen “didn’t even think about it” and returned the wallet, Diaz says. “I gave him $20 … I figure maybe it’ll help him. I don’t know.”

Diaz says he asked for something in return — the teen’s knife — “and he gave it to me.”

Afterward, when Diaz told his mother what happened, she said, “You’re the type of kid that if someone asked you for the time, you gave them your watch.”

“I figure, you know, if you treat people right, you can only hope that they treat you right. It’s as simple as it gets in this complicated world.”

FAITH IN HUMANITY RESTORED

ALL THE SLOW CLAPS GO TO YOU

My god, a social worker who hasn’t lost their way in it all. Bless.

Winning.

songfordecem:

AU Meme | TenToo/Rose have a daughter and she’s ready to start her own adventure

“Mum gave me the locket once Dad had finished setting the photo. It was a old thing. Not new by any means but not worn out either; it was loved. It was loved through countless generations, from parent to child, over and over until it finally hung from a delicate gold chain around my neck, as mum fixed the clasp. I loved it already.

“Inside were two images: one of me just now infront of the other TARDIS and one of Mum and Dad at their engagement party before I was even born. It’s my favorite picture of them. They still have that same sense of joy and thirst for life that they had all those years ago. I’m going to miss them terribly.

“Before I was able to take even take one step towards the TARDIS after saying our goodbyes, Dad rushed over pulling out his sonic screwdriver and grasped the locket. The device whirred and buzzed as he carved the familiar intersecting curves and lines that he had taught me. I didn’t know too much but I was familiar with that phrase in particular. I looked up, exchanging smiles with him as he placed a kiss on my head and ushered me to step inside.

“Later on that day, the Doctor asked me what my Dad had written and if I understood it. Of course I did. There could be no mistake, he’d said it to me a thousand times before and signed nearly every birthday, holiday, and special occasion card with it. It said: ‘Our two hearts beat only for you.’”

Sources: Locket (skypeale) | Doctor/Rose Edit | Jenna Louise Coleman

hermionejg:

nevver:

Novel Tea

oh!

royswordsman:

tugamaggie:

pockytardis:

omg tony how fucking anime can one person be

needs more

KAWAII

Guys. Guys. 

It’s TONI STARKU 

winterinthetardis:

It’s the middle of the night cycle and Rose is wandering the halls, trying to find the kitchen after the TARDIS moved it and refused to bring it back. It’s late and she’s in her sleepy-but-can’t-sleep mode and she just wants some tea to push her over the edge and knock her out.

It’s two more lefts, one right, two lefts and the third branch of a roundabout before Rose finally stumbles upon the kitchen, her pink bunny slippers dragging along the floor as she tiredly puts the kettle on. She opens the cabinet door to see all the cups gone except for two on the top shelf where she has no hope of reaching and, not for the first time tonight, she wonders if she’s done something to upset the TARDIS. Sighing, she reaches up on her tiptoes anyway, as if the extra inches will bring the cup within grasp, and suddenly there’s a cool body pressed up behind her and an arm next to hers, reaching up to grab the two mugs. She inhales a little faster than normal and tries to ignore the way he fits so perfectly against her, body curled around her like a parenthesis before he’s grabbing hold of the handles and stepping away, the two cups clenched in his hand.

“Rose! Didn’t expect you to be awake. What are you doing up - well, I know what you’re doing up, clearly, what with the cups and the kettle on, but what I mean to say is: trouble sleeping?”

It’s been six months since he traded his Northern accent for a London one, and she still hasn’t grown tired of his rambling. Sometimes, she wonders if it’ll fade, the love she has for all of his quirks (not matter which incarnation), but she doubts it - The Doctor is her Doctor, whether he’s her first or second or third (though she can’t help but hope it will never come to that, she’s grown quite fond of this face, but she knows she’ll love him even then). She smiles up at him. “Yes,” she murmurs quietly and knows she doesn’t need to say more, because he’ll just fill in the silence for himself (and she’s come to love the sound of his voice against the humming backdrop of the TARDIS).

He doesn’t disappoint, going off on a tangent about how many studies have linked drinking tea to falling asleep and how there’s special tea (“Yellow polkadots it’s called, and I swear, Rose, when I first heard it, I burst out laughing, though the Dydexians weren’t too happy about that…”) that lets you fall asleep and dream in technicolour swirls like you’re in Fantasia (though Rose doesn’t seem all that intrigued by it - she always feels that wondrous rush when she travels with the Doctor; she doesn’t need tea to make her feel like she’s in a Disney movie with bright colours, stunning music, and so many emotions she feels like her heart’s going to explode with it all.)

By the time he’s finished talking, the tea has long been finished and her head is drooping down against his shoulder. His shoulder rumbles against her ear when he whispers, “Alright, you. Time for bed.”

She grumbles, warm and comfortable, fitted against him, and she wonders what those swirly parentheses are called, because that’s what she feels like now, leg pressed against him and elbows tucked under his as her head buries itself deeper into his shoulder. He moves away and she opens her mouth to complain, but suddenly, she’s lifted into the air, the Doctor’s arms wrapping themselves behind her back and under her knees, craddling herself against him. She smiles against his neck, breathing in his scent before wrapping her arms in turn around him.

“This sleepy act was all just a clever ploy to get me to carry you to bed like a princess, wasn’t it? Admit it, Rose, I’m on to you now, you clever little minx. You asked the TARDIS to move the kitchen right next to the transdimentional hortduct I’m fixing, just so you can take advantage of my kind nature. Not that I blame you, of course, I’d want to be carried too if I were you - after all, my arms are quite manly and look at all these manly hairs, honestly, I’m impressed that I can even leave the TARDIS without people throwing themselves at my feet because they’re so overcome with awe.”

He’s teasing her and she’s chuckling against him, calling him the idiot that he is and telling him to shut it before his ego gets too big he can’t fit through the door anymore, but a small part of her wonders if maybe getting them together that might have been the TARDIS’ plan all along. But she’s tired and he’s warm and the thought fades away as the gentle rocking of his steps lulls her back to sleep.