This is the most adorable non-bot blank blog I’ve ever seen. People, this is all you need to do to let us know you’re a human if you’re confused.

I miss opening credits sequences.

Almost every show I watch barely puts the title for a couple of seconds! Even shows like Bridgerton only show theirs once. Only The Crown has a proper sequence, which is glorious.

Okay, but consider:

When Amy and Rory get stuck in New York, they try to leave at first. I mean, of course they do, they’re not idiots. If the Doctor can’t come here, why can’t they just get out of the center of the paradox? And even if he still can’t pick them up….well, no reason not to see some of the world by the slow path.

It’s just not that simple. As it turns out, the contortions of time and the way it’s adhered to them trap them physically, not just temporally. When they try to leave NYC, time goes…weird. They find themselves back where they started, or time slows to a crawl, or starts skipping and fracturing for them. They wait for trains that never arrive, or drive all day and get nowhere, or walk and find their strength sapped away. You get the picture. So…they stay. They poke their boundaries every so often, but mostly they just stay.

It’s not so bad. If you had to pick one place to be stuck in for the rest of your lives, New York City from the 1930s onward certainly won’t be boring. And River can visit, occasionally, even if the Doctor can’t. (Sometimes she leaves them gadgets to keep them equipped for any timey-wiminess that may arise, like the thing that looks like an egg timer and detects artron anergy within the city confines. They always wonder if she has a Reason for these things, but they don’t ask.)

They build their lives. Rory stays in medicine, of course, even if being a male nurse is a little more unusual in this period. Amy writes, fantasy stories about little lost girls and brave boys and strange wizards with funny blue houses.

(In her stories, children always find their way home in the end.)

After WWII they adopt a little war-orphan baby named Anthony. He, more than anything, anchors them. Life goes on. They settle, like the foundations of a house.

Until one day in the 60s when Amy (older, but not slowed down yet) bursts into the house, grabs Rory, and says “She’s going to be HERE.”

“What?” says Rory.

“1969. The Moon.” Amy waves a copy of a magazine with headlines about the space program at him. “MELODY.”

“…OH.”

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Emma Woodhouse: gifted kid?

Idea: Bertie Wooster, though a series of hilarious misunderstandings, ends up on the murder island during And Then There Were None.

Mary Crawford: Edmund Bertram ditches me and then I think, "Fine! I will find someone else richer and prettier!" I mean, it is not like there are not pretty rich heirs in London's society!

Mary Crawford: but no, now that does not satisfy me anymore! Now they have to be good people to make me want to keep speaking with them!

Mary Crawford: stupid Edmund Bertram, giving me standards!

I still can't get over that once, I saw someone write that they disliked Elizabeth Bennet because she was an "author avatar Mary Sue."

I understand taking that viewpoint if you only read the first half of Pride and Prejudice, before Darcy's letter. The impression the first half creates is "Most of these people are silly, obnoxious, or both. Witty, sensible, charming Elizabeth, who's usually the smartest person in the room, cleverly judges and mocks them all, while giving warm affection and esteem to the few who really deserve it." This is more or less the way she views herself and the narrative plays along with it. If you stop reading before Darcy's letter, then she might indeed come across as an "author avatar Mary Sue."

But then all of the above is deconstructed by Darcy's letter. Elizabeth realizes – and we realize – that she hasn't been such a good judge of character or the cleverest person in the room after all. Her cynical, witty judgments have been just as faulty as her sister Jane's naïve idealism. She's been full of herself, and she's judged Darcy more negatively than he ever deserved (not that he hasn't been at fault, but still...) because he stung her personal vanity, while letting herself be charmed and misled by Wickham because he flattered her. She's been very much at fault and she learns a lesson, just like we later learn that Darcy did after she rejected him.

A similar arc applies to Mr. Bennet, the person who has clearly influenced Elizabeth the most throughout her life. At first we're set up to like him for his wit, and to view him as the good, sensible Bennet parent in contrast to his silly, obnoxious wife. But then we realize – and Elizabeth is forced to realize – that no, he hasn't been a good parent, he's been irresponsible and mean-spirited toward his wife and younger daughters, and he's just as much to blame as Mrs. Bennet for all their problems.

How anyone can call Elizabeth a Mary Sue after reading the entire book is beyond me. Some people can't seem to let go of their first impression of her, even though the faultiness of first impressions is one of the novel's main themes.

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There’s someone for everyone❤️

best response of all time

I can't believe no one has made this hyper specific item that I created in my head so that I can buy it and use it for my very specific purpose

I needed this laugh.

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