the composition of this shot... finger pointed at the doctor in accusation, bill is speaking the words but both masters are talking through her, surrounding her as witnesses as she channels their bitterness, their rage, their abandonment. the master waited for him. jack waited for him. older amy in that hospital waited for him. bill waited for him. ashildr-me waited for him. but he always came back too late. the man whose ship's engine noise is a sound that heralds hope wherever it lands left the ones he cared about behind. when hope itself leaves you behind, what redemption could you ever dream of?
imagine: you get your memories back after years of amnesia to find out your whole species is dead and earth doesn’t exist anymore. that the only thing left of your culture is your weird ex and his busted honda civic that barely even works that he stole from the government when he was 13. And he’s been taking members of an alien species for trips in his honda civic and they’re all like “woah it’s so cool” and you get upset because it’s NOT COOL it’s a honda civic, the turn signals don’t even work “wow it can go up hills” yeah OF COURSE IT CAN GO UP HILLS EVERY CAR COULD DO THAT. but they’ve never seen a car before so everything it does is the coolest thing ever. And your ex’s only tool is a fucking screwdriver which is somehow also cool to this dumbass alien species even though it’s a fucking screwdriver so you just look like an idiot screaming about how none of this is even cool it’s actually really shitty but your whole planet is gone so you can’t even prove it but also you’ve had a constant drumming sounding in your head since you were 10 slowly driving you insane. I would become evil too.
the companion will go oh god doctor who is that?? and the doctor will get all serious and somber and say listen. he's the most evil creature in the universe. he's the worst enemy i've ever faced. he's horrible and unpredictable and you can never ever let your guard down. and then the villain will walk into the room like this
nothing makes me go "ooooh we are NOT the same" quite like reading some post about how people talk with their parents about their interests. what do you mean you told your father about stevebucky. what do you mean he asked further questions
As I near 200,000 followers here at fishingboatproceeds, I just wanted to say Cock is one of my favorite tastes. Not only that, but balls smell amazing. It makes me go a little crazy on it to be honest. Like, I cannot get it far enough down my throat to be satisfied. I’m only satisfied when I feel those intense, powerful, salty, hot pumps of cum down my throat. When I sit back on my heels, look up at you with cum all over my mouth and slobber running down my neck, hair all fucked up and wipe my mouth with the back of my arm and ask you if I did a good job and you cannot even speak because I’ve drained all of your energy out the tip of your dick….. That’s when I’m satisfied.
“We’re trained to be like, ‘If I’m not exceptional, I won’t be loved.’ Certainly, I think that was my thing,” Gatwa shared. “So, yeah, I think I’m just learning now like, ‘Oh, you are allowed to be loved.’ You don’t have to be excellent or aspire to that term, ‘Black excellence’. What the hell?”
He continued, “There’s so much white mediocrity that gets celebrated, and Black people, we have to be absolutely flawless to get half of [that] anyway. So, I’m slowly training myself out of that and being like, ‘No shit. You deserve love just for existing.’ And that has taught me to be a lot more loving as well, in a weird way.”