COMPANIONS

fanfiction is so beautiful because what do you mean i can read the same characters falling in love 92737389 times in different scenarios and not get tired of it.

Empire Of Death thoughts:

Sad we didn't get an Ambassadors style twang in the intro.

Bonnie fucking Langford. You give her the material and she can deliver. The dread I felt as she succumbed, and really effective villain performance, something about seeing her with the skull look was extra creepy, in the same way as that bit of evil Sarah Jane in the old More Than 30 Years In The TARDIS documentary. And just the sweetness of her reactions to Six's coat/cravat, and cuddling into Seven's jumper for comfort...

On the nostalgia note pretty sure I saw the garden from the end of the TVM in the TARDIS flashbacks, and the Doctor mentioning 1999... Us Eight fans cling onto what we can get. :P

So then the big stuff. The Ruby's mum reveal feels almost like a reaction to Rey's parentage in Star Wars. Doesn't have to be a big secret lore-breaking name but also doesn't have to be treated as inconsequential or throwaway in the way that TLJ treated it. She's important because of her choices. Quite liked that.

Sutekh's plan with Susan Triad felt brilliant, seeding her through time and space with every adventure, and the little human moments in this new reality felt terrifying, but the Empire Of Death feels quite fleeting with only half an episode to really explore it. And really, from the moment the UNIT crowd were dispatched we knew there'd be a big reset button. Hard not to see the 'snap' inspiration with it.

(Also, I have to say it, the Doctor in his Tom Of Finland outfit defeats the villain by collaring him with a handy supply of 'intelligent rope' on hand. Oh Rogue, the things you missed out on!)

On that note, given the names of certain fanfic archives, the Doctor's plan works because of a teaspoon and an open mind!

Overall, I don't think this was RTD's best finale, it could have used some extra time for the pacing to land right, but I still had a hell of a time with it, and watching TLORS again on the big screen leading into it was so much fun. Was really nice getting the cinema experience, complete with a little message from Millie thanking us. Saw a few familiar faces there I've not seen since the 50th, too! It's nice for Doctor Who to feel this big again.

Old SPN collage made b4 the whole series finale disaster

people who don’t wear glasses will never understand the absolute humiliation of dropping your glasses under your bed or in a dark area and feeling around on all fours muttering “my glasses…. where are my glasses” like fucking Velma Dinkley and thinking to yourself BOY WOULD THIS BE A LOT EASIER IF I COUKD FUCKING SEE

okay

I swear it's always "I love you so much!" but never

"I will love you with no regard to the actions of our enemies or the jealousies of actors. I will love you with no regard to the outrage of certain parents or the boredom of certain friends. I will love you no matter what is served in the world's cafeterias or what game is played at each and every recess. I will love you no matter how many fire drills we are all forced to endure, and no matter what is drawn upon the blackboard in a blurring, boring chalk. I will love you no matter how many mistakes I make when trying to divide fractions, and no matter how difficult is it to memorize the periodic table. I will love you no matter what your locker combination was, or how you decide to spend your time during study hall. I will love you no matter how your soccer team performed in the tournament or how many stains I received on my cheerleading uniform.

I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you next Tuesday. I will love you if you cut your hair and I will love you if you cut the hair of others. I will love you if abandon your baticeering and I will love you if you retire from the theatre to take up some other, less dangerous occupation. I will love you if you drop your raincoat on the floor instead of hanging it up and I will love you if you betray your father. I will love you even if you announce that the poetry of Edgar Guest is the best in the world and even if you announce that the work of Zilpha Keatley Snyder is unbearably tedious. I will love you if you abandon the theremin and take up the harmonica and I will love you if you donate your marmosets to the zoo and your tree frogs to M. I will love you as the starfish loves a coral reef and as kudzu loves trees, even if the oceans turn to sawdust and the trees fall in the forest without anyone around to hear them. I will love you as the pesto loves the fettuccini and and as the horseradish loves the miyagi, as the tempura loves the the ikura and the pepperoni loves the pizza. I will love you as the manatee loves the head of lettuce and as the dark spot loves the leopard, as the leech loves the ankle of a wader and as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you as the doctor loves his sickest patient and a lake loves its thirstiest swimmer.

I will love you as the beard loves the chin, and the crumbs love the beard, and the damp napkin loves the crumbs, and the precious document loves the dampness of the napkin, and the squinting eye of the reader loves the smudged print of the document, and the tears of sadness love the squinting eye as it misreads what is written.

I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat, and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm wale loves the flavor of naval uniforms.

I will love you as a child loves to overhear the conversations of their parents, and the parents love the sound of their own arguing voices, and as the pen loves to write down the words these voices utter in a notebook for safe keeping.

I will love you as a shingle loves falling off a house on a windy day and striking a grumpy person across the chin, and as an oven loves malfunctioning in the middle of roasting a turkey. I will love you as an airplane loves to fall from a clear blue sky and as an escalator loves to entangle expensive scarves in its mechanism. I will love you as a wet paper towel loves to be crumpled into a ball and thrown at a bathroom ceiling and an eraser loves to leave dust in the hairdos of the people who talk too much. I will love you as a cufflink loves to drop from its shirt and explore the party for itself and as a pair of white gloves loves to slip delicately into the punchbowl. I will love you as a taxi loves the muddy splash of a puddle and as a library loves the patient tick of a clock. I will love you as a thief loves a gallery, and as a crow loves murder, as a cloud loves bats and as a range loves braes. I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch while everything goes wrong. I will love you as a battlefield loves young men and as peppermints love your allergies, and I will love you as the banana peel loves the shoe of a man who was just struck by a falling shingle off a house.

I will love you as a volunteer fire department loves rushing into burning buildings and as burning buildings love to chase them back out, and as a parachute loves to leave a blimp, and as a blimp loves to chase after it.

I will love you as a dagger loves a certain person's back, and as a certain person loves to wear dagger proof tunics, and as a dagger proof tunic loves to go to a certain dry cleaning facility, and how a certain employee of a dry cleaning facility loves to stay up late with a pair binoculars, watching a dagger factory for hours in the hopes of catching a burglar, and as a burglar loves sneaking up behind people with binoculars, suddenly realizing that she has left her dagger at home.

I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp, and as a gasping person loves a glass of brandy to calm their nerves, and as a glass of brandy loves to shatter on the floor, and as a noise of a glass shattering loves to make someone else gasp, and as someone else gasping loves a nearby desk to lean against, even if leaning against it presses a lever that loves to open a drawer and reveal a secret compartment. I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and until all the secrets have gone gasping out into the world.

I will love you until all the codes and hearts have been broken and until every anagram and egg has been unscrambled. I will love you until every fire is extinguished and until every home is rebuilt from the handsomest and most susceptible of woods, and until every criminal is handcuffed by the laziest policeman. I will love you until M. hates snakes and J. hates grammar, and I will love you until C. realizes that S. is not worthy of his love and N. realizes he is not worthy of V. I will love you until the bird hates the nest and the worm hates the apple, and until the apple hates the tree and the tree hates the nest, although honestly, I cannot imagine that last occurrence no matter how hard I try.

I will love you as we grow older, which has just happened, and has happened again, and happened several days ago, continuously, and then several years before that, and will continue to happen as the spinning hands of every clock and the flipping pages of every calendar mark the passage of time, except for the clocks that people have forgotten to wind and the calendars that people have forgotten to place in a highly visible area. I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close that we could slip the curved straw, and that long, slender spoon, between our lips and fingers respectively. I will love you as the chances of us running into each other slip from slim to zero, and until your face is fogged by a distant memory, and your memory faced by distant fog, and your fog memorized by a distant face, and your distance distanced by the memorized memory of a foggy fog. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, no matter where you avoid and who you don't see, and no matter who sees you avoiding where you go. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this, and no matter how I am discovered after what happens to me, happens to you as I am discovering this. I will love you if you don't marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else—your co-star perhaps, or Y., or even Q. or anyone Z. through A., even R. although sadly I think it will be quite some time before two woman can be allowed to marry—and I will love you if you have a child, and I will love you if you have two children, or three children, or even more, although I personally think three is plenty, and I will love you if you never marry at all and never have children, and spend your years wishing you had married me after all, and I must say that on late, cold nights I prefer this scenario out of all the scenarios I have mentioned.

That Beatrice, is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way. Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope."

i think what i wanna see in s2 of Dead Boy Detectives, more than anything, is Edwin being confident. now don’t get me wrong, we all know he struts, shows off and KNOWS he’s intelligent. but towards the end of s2 we’ve seen him come to terms with his sexuality and who he is. in s2, i hope he can be confident in that too. i honestly wanna see him walk into a queer bar (on a case or the others dragged him there) and i wanna see him unintentionally bag all the guys, but know what he’s doing. obviously i also wanna see the looks on charles’ and crystal’s faces but like anyways.

Old collage for Måneskin bc im perpetually in love

Kinda feel like there's some untapped meme/reaction image potential from old horror movie trailers...

daniel molloy character of all time once again: like imagine you’re a 20-something drug addict and a terrible journalist on account of being 20-something and a drug addict and you randomly meet a vampire at a gay bar and you think wow I might get drugs, gay sex and a story out of this and instead what you get is psychologically and physically tortured by his husband and your memories of it all erased and then 50 years later you’re DYING and those vampires show up in your life again to ask you to write the story of their happy marriage and your memory might be fucked but ON GOD you WILL ruin that marriage if it’s the last thing you do. and then not only do you succeed and walk out of it alive, but also with a bestseller, millions in your bank account AND immortality AND the knowledge that your annoying human ass was somehow the one thing that made that 500+ year old predator so mad that he broke his lifetime vow to never turn anyone. AND, on top of that, you’re out of the CLOSET.