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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 3 months

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"Time & the Trickster" A Loki/Doctor Who crossover

Chapter 2: Window to the World

Having Loki in your apartment leaves you both confused and star-struck. But fangirl crushes will have to wait as you take it upon yourself to give Loki a history lesson about your reality and his role in it.

CHAPTER WARNING: none

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You were an early riser, and always had been. Even on mornings after you’d not slept well, you were usually able to greet the day with at least some energy. It was your superpower: you were the only morning person you knew. It was usually good for adding an extra hour or so of recreation to your day.

You needed that superpower more so today than ever. For once, when you woke up and remembered why you were splayed out like a deflating sex doll on the sofa, not a shred of dignity to be found in your position, you felt your head begin to pound.

Coffee…bring me to life…

You glimpsed at the Loki figurine on the kitchen island where you’d stashed it without thinking. Scrunching your nose, you went to the cupboard to start brewing a strong pot of Elixir of Life (French Vanilla light roast).

You weren’t sure what to think. If your new houseguest was truthful, that meant you presently had the God of Mischief in your bed. Hell, it meant that the God of Mischief, as well as Thor, Odin, and Asgard, existed. And what did that mean for everyone else in those movies? How did he even find himself here, and where was his intended path?

And, perhaps the biggest question of all: how was he supposed to get back to where he came from? Should he even be allowed to go? After all, it wasn’t like Loki from The Avengers was a good person. What if you had an intergalactic criminal in there? Lying not about his identity but about his benign existence?

Heh, I guess I had stranger days in college.

You heard shuffling at the front door. After a few moments of keys jangling, Joey came in, looking worse than when he’d left you hours ago.

“More fun at work, asshole?” you said with a sneer.

“Always,” he said, taking a seat on the other side of the island on a barstool. “Actually, I did a lot of cleaning shit out tonight.”

“Good. Serves you right for making me spend my last hundred bucks on Prince Loki in there,” you replied. “That was our grocery money, by the way. Hope you like the Crackers and Oxygen Diet.”

Joey laughed. “I was thinking about it…about him,” he said after a brief pause. “And I was wondering if you thought the same thing I did.”

“What about?”

“About The Doctor.”

The timer on the coffee pot beeped. You swiped two cheap mugs stolen from a hotel room and placed them in front of your brother.

You nodded. “I definitely thought about him.”

“Maybe it’s not such a weird coincidence that he looks like him, Sis,” Joey reasoned as you poured. “I mean, that kook in London sure looks like David Tennant.”

“It’s a publicity stunt, genius,” you said, bringing one of the full mugs to your nose so that you could inhale the gentle, earthy aroma. You were already beginning to feel more awake.

“Disney owns the Loki side of things, but not the Who side,” said Joey. “I doubt the BBC and MCU would do something like this at the same time.”

You smiled and took a slightly longer look at him. Despite his disheveled appearance, Joey really did look like your father to a T. “You and Dad watched all the old Doctor Who stuff. I just watched the Thor movies for the…”

You looked briefly at the toy on the counter.

“...plot.”

Joey took a long sip of coffee, rolling his eyes before setting the cup down to express his thoughts. “Sure you did, Sis. Hey…uh…didn’t you lose your virginity to the audiobook for High Rise?”

“SHUT UP!” you barked defensively, absentmindedly taking a sugar cube from a glass nearby and chucking it at his face. Your aim was wide (and half-assed), and instead of hitting your target, the cube flew across the room and landed at Loki’s bare foot.

You hadn’t noticed him open the door or leave the bedroom. “Oh,” you gasped.

“Hey, Loki! Good morning, soldier!” Joey raised his mug in toast.

Loki looked a little bewildered, but otherwise mentally intact. “Did I miss something?” He bent over and scooped the sugar cube, holding it between two of his fingers, observing it.

You shook your head. “No. Uh, coffee?”

“Um,” was all Loki said before Joey gestured to his own seat, getting up and offering it. Loki felt compelled to take it.

“Hey,” Joey said in an aside to you as Loki helped himself to a coffee mug, “We should tell him.”

“About how he’s a fictional character? I was going to.”

“About The Doctor,” Joey repeated. “I’m just saying, maybe it’s NOT so weird that two time-jumpers landed here after all.”

Shaking your head, you disagreed. “I want to show him the movies first,” you said, looking briefly over your shoulder. “If he is who he says he is, then he doesn’t know the truth. We can’t send him out into the world as a helpless little dingus. Someone could take advantage of him.”

Your brother sighed. “I guess. I’m gonna shower and get some sleep. Maybe when I wake up we can talk about what to do.”

You gritted your teeth and groaned. “He sounds like he wants to get back to where he came from as soon as possible.”

Laughing, Joey headed for the bathroom, barely large enough for him to turn around in. “I don’t think he has much choice.”

“No, that’s not what I’m worried about,” you added. “What if he gets desperate and, like, hurts one of us?”

He shrugged and said quickly as he closed the door, “Well, try not to bleed onto the rug. The landlord’ll add that to our rent.”

You rolled your eyes. Thanks, Joey.

You turned to go back to the kitchen island to help Loki with something to eat, but stopped in your tracks when you saw that he had found the figurine, and was holding it up in front of him as if it were covered in syrup.

“Y/N, what is this?”

Your jaw fell open as your heart began to race. You couldn’t explain the look on Loki’s face; it was as if he was wrestling in his mind between confusion and amusement.

“I…”

Loki was smiling as he held the trinket closer to his eyes, observing the details. “My my…” he mumbled. “Why does Midgard have toys of my likeness in this timeline? Am I a hero?”

His smile peeled further back on his cheeks as he had a realization.

“Do…do you admire me, Miss Y/N?”

Your skin went ice cold when he winked with a chuckle. Your mind was short-circuiting. This was a super fan’s anxiety nightmare come to life, and it was your show. You did the one thing you knew would work to get you out of it: change the subject.

“Loki,” you said solemnly, “There’s something I need to show you.”

You called in to work (the shop owner was a retired teacher with a sweet disposition, so she understood that you “had family in town”) and brought out Joey’s DVD cases. Between the two of you, you owned the DVDs of the entire Infinity Saga. Joey even burned a few bootleg copies of one of the streaming shows, but alas, it was Wandavision, not Loki’s show. You couldn’t afford any streaming services, and since password sharing/stealing was no longer possible, you only had these discs and basic cable as your entertainment in the evenings.

I wonder what’s in his serial, you thought. Has he lived it yet? Should I warn him about spoilers?

You laid out a spread of snacks, in case Loki got lightheaded or distressed over what he saw. Luckily, sleep had remedied some of his anxiety, at least to your eye. He appeared fine with the idea of sitting back for most of the day with movies.

“So, what do you know about this place? This world?” you asked as you hit the pause button as the opening logos of Thor began to appear.

Loki was sitting formally, with immaculate posture. “My seidr doesn’t work here. And your version of a Loki variant is possibly fictional and enshrined within these documentaries you are about to show me.”

“What’s a variant?” you asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Loki said after a moment’s pause. “Show me the films,” he added with a hint of sadness.

Thus began your day watching Loki watch himself in movies. It wasn’t exactly what you’d pictured you would be doing with him if he ever became real, but at least you weren’t bickering or fighting Christopher Eccleston. He seemed entranced, a little disturbed, but also fascinated in earnest. Once in a while, he even made a critic’s comment on the filmmakers’ and actors’ choices. It made you smile when he did, because his shoulders relaxed, he sat back against the sofa cushion. He was becoming comfortable with you.

He remarked that Thor’s film counterpart was a bit off in particular: the real God of Thunder was apparently a bit less bumbling. He was as much a hunter as he was a soldier, which gave him sharper instincts than what was portrayed on screen. Still, the physical resemblance was outright uncanny.

“So, to be clear: in your world, Loki is ONLY a character?” he asked.

Nodding, you hoped he wouldn’t have some kind of existential crisis triggered by your honesty. “Yes. All of these people are the result of actors acting and writers writing.”

“And Midgard is the only Realm that exists?”

“As far as we know, and we’ve mapped the stars pretty well.”

“...and there’s no magic? Or Avengers?”

“Not outside of Comic Con.”

“This fellow playing my role is a bit theatrical.”

You nearly snorted your water. Loki even made you laugh once in a while. “You really think so? Isn’t that the point, though?” you giggled. Loki looked at you warmly.

“Your laugh is nice,” he said. “I am fond of the sound of laughter. You know, I notice these stories neglect my more playful side. I wasn’t always a parasuicidal, power-maddened Prince.”

You raised a teasing eyebrow, and he shrugged. “To be fair, I did say not always.”

He knew more about the plot than you expected. You noticed in some scenes he mouthed the dialogue verbatim, which sent shivers down your back to see. Other times, he seemed as clueless as a first-time viewer as to what was happening, especially when you popped in Ragnarok after a brief lunch break.

“That wasn’t at all how Sakaar happened,” he hissed bitterly. “I never attempted to betray Thor, and would’ve never allowed him to electrocute me without my permission!”

You chose to skip over the next film (ignoring Loki’s odd addendum about ‘permission’) and you got the feeling Loki knew why. “Thank you,” he said, “yes, I know what happens to me on the ship after Ragnarok.”

“How?” you asked. “You’re not as surprised by some of this as I thought.”

“I’m surprised by some of the accuracy, yes,” he admitted, looking at you with a twinge of sorrow in his eyes. “But you aren’t the first one to bring my life’s review before my eyes like this.”

“Who was the first? And how?” you wondered.

“Are there other films of this Loki?” Loki asked. “I can show you what happens next. Surely you know my life didn’t exactly end there.”

“Sort of.”

You got up from the sofa to clear the boxes of old Chinese leftovers as you explained. “You do get away in the next one, the last one. They figure out time travel. Thor finds a universe where you escape from arrest after taking over New York.”

“Yes,” recalled Loki, “but did they show you what happened after that? Where I fell?”

You bit your lip as you crammed everything into the overflowing garbage can as far down as possible. “Not unless you can afford fifteen extra bucks a month,” you admitted. “There is more, but I don’t have access to it.”

“We need to find it,” Loki decided. You were about to agree when he changed his tone: “Oh…perhaps I can regale you with the antics of the TVA myself?”

The way he looked at you, hopeful that you’d agree to hear his version of the next chapter of his life instead of the MCU’s, warmed your heart. You had to fight back your urge to leap across the room and embrace him. Scaring him was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. What you did do was sit next to him again and fold your legs underneath you.

You said simply, “Please.”

And he did. For hours after.

There was something in the way he wove a tale that felt not quite of this planet. His delivery was almost exaggerated as he told you about the TVA, Mobius, Sylvie, and OB, as well as Kang and Ravonna, and how he ended up unconscious and naked in an alley on South Salina street.

His voice was hot and soothing, like a drink of tomato soup against a dry, raw throat. You could have melted into his lap as he described everyone and everything, all of the marvelous lands that didn’t exist for you, the magnificent species and cultures, and the horrendous monsters he’d beaten.

You didn’t particularly care for Sylvie, who sounded like she thrived off of Persecution Complex and attention like a lamprey fed off of a shark’s hind. The way he described both her and Mobius, with equal fondness and perhaps even love, made you sink back in your seat. You were suddenly not as giddy inside.

“You love her,” you said softly and suggestively.

Loki shook his head in denial. “I thought I did until I repeatedly attempted to pull her away from the Citadel.”

“What happened there?”

He explained that he’d realized there, after repeatedly trying to pull her away from her desire to murder Kang and set the timelines into brutal chaos on a scale not even Loki could contain, that sometimes people don't change. It was all Loki could do to accept that perhaps the trite little world in Oklahoma that Sylvie longed for was, perhaps, the one she belonged in after all.

“I don't agree,” you said stubbornly, sticking out your chest in a bit of cartoonish defiance. “She needs to be held accountable for nearly taking down all of reality.”

He sighed. “No, I don’t see how. Her fate is not mine, nor is mine hers. She couldn’t take my place.”

“Your place?” you asked inquisitively. “You mention so many weird things, Loki, and expect me to know them.”

He didn’t answer you. Instead, the wheels in his head were sparked into action, and he looked for a moment as if he were reading something in the air in front of him as his idea materialized.

“Maybe…” he suddenly said. “...the stone!”

“What?” you asked, snapping out of your dreamy trance.

“We have to go back for the stone!” Loki snapped up off of the sofa as if his ass were on springs. It startled you. “Where I landed!”

“Loki! You don’t know your way around here at all! It was dark and rainy last night, so how do you expect to find it?” you slowly got to your feet and put your hands on your hips.

“There was a street sign nearby. S. Salina street! I’ll know what it looks like,” Loki promised, grabbing your hand and dragging you toward the door. “Quickly!”

“Oh my god,” you said, your breath quickening, your anxiety beginning to rush upon you. “Please slow down before I pass out. This is all so much!”

You sat back down again, this time on the barstool closest to you. Laying your head on the island, you let out the smallest, lowest moan of frustration. “This couldn’t have been a normal day…”

You didn’t expect to feel Loki’s large, cool hand on your shoulder. You could feel his skin through your flimsy cami top, and it only took a moment before you began to calm. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have assumed that people here move with the frequent urgency they do where I come from.”

The tempest waters slowly receded. You turned around, craning your neck to look up at him. You were suddenly conscious of how much of a train wreck you must’ve appeared. You’d never gotten out of the leggings you wore to bed…the leggings with the two gaping holes in the inner thigh seams.

You quickly slammed your thighs together, but if Loki noticed, he was a true Prince about it and didn’t say a word. Instead, he wiped a small piece of hair from your eye. “Have I made you ill?”

“No! Err…”

A moment of frightening silence passed as the pair of you stood and sat where you were, simply observing one another as two creatures from different planes learning all they could about each other.

Meanwhile it wasn’t helping your blood pressure as you were still having difficulty absorbing the fact that you were staring into the literal face of your teenage sexual awakening. Surely he wasn’t looking at you the same way, but his studious eyes with pounding urgency behind them were taking you in regardless. You felt vulnerable…vulnerable and turned on like a seat warmer in January.

Finally, you couldn’t stand it anymore, and you broke the silence. “If you really think you know where on that street it is, I’m calling a cab.”

On your way out the door, you dug into Joey’s jean jacket pocket, just knowing you’d find treasure. Indeed, it only took a moment before you found his tip wallet, and pulled out several tens and twenties before replacing it. Thank god you finished your shift last night, jerk.

You didn’t bother waiting for Loki to ask before saying, “Don’t worry, he owes me way more than that.”

The rainstorm had receded, but the after effects were worse.

The heat of the waning spring was thick in the air this afternoon, the sun hanging high and dry over the city with not even a wisp of cirrus obscuring it. Humidity radiated off the concrete streets and sidewalks, turning the pavement into a massive stovetop. Luckily, Joey and Loki shared a shoe size (in spite of his diminutive height, he had a larger bone structure that led to large hands and feet). A few buildings over, near one of the corners, a small group of kids had managed to crack open an old fire hydrant and were running under the makeshift water fountain, ignoring the hollers of the angry adults scolding them. It had to be ninety degrees with the heat index, which was hot for this time of year, with summer inbound but still another ten days away.

Sadly, shoe size was the ONLY size Loki and Joey had in common, and the God was forced to wear the smelly castoffs from the police station the night before. You counted the bounty you’d stolen from your brother as you waited for the cab. “I think we have enough to get you something from the Salvation Army while we’re out. It won’t be pretty, but at least it’ll be clean…and not so full of holes and stains!”

“The Army! That’s what I need!” Loki shot back, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Sweet Jesus, Loki, I still have so much to teach you.”

You asked the cabbie to drive low and slow as you drove about the city, down to the south end on the other side of the highway divide. Once there, you were surprised by how quickly it took for Loki to shout “Stop! Stop the car!”

The cabbie did as he was told, and you threw two twenties at him. No need to force him to linger, especially when you had other places to go within walking distance.

Loki pulled you along by the wrist as he maneuvered down the familiar street.

“There! That’s where I awoke!”

He ducked into an alleyway, lined high along each side with filled trash bags, loaded dumpsters, and wet, crumbling cardboard boxes. Immediately, he turned to the west wall and began looking down at the ground, as if he was just going to find this stone lying on the ground.

“Hey, I got bad news for you, Loki,” you whispered, “if this stone was shiny and bright like the one in the movies…it probably wouldn’t last very long just out in the open in a neighborhood like this.”

He didn’t listen, but as the minutes passed, he realized that you were right. The stone was absolutely and undeniably not in the alley. Someone had made off with it.

“The old man with the…territorial streak,” he mumbled to himself, recalling the first face he’d seen when he arrived in Syracuse.

Before you could ask what he meant, you were cut off by the sound of laughter from across the road.

“Oooh look, Naked Loki’s back! In clothes!” shouted Di, whooping gleefully from the same deck as she’d been last night. “Thank the Lord! Hi, Naked Loki!” she cheered as she waved vigorously in your direction.

“I think he was better off when he wasn’t wearing anything!” giggled her roommate.

“Hello, ladies,” Loki said briefly, waving sheepishly and tipping a non-existent hat to them without moving closer. “May I inquire something of you?”

Di and her roommate laughed again, and Di primped her hair. “Well, I’ll see what I can be inquired of.” She laced her reply with a British accent that would’ve made Dick Van Dyke shake his head in shame. The sass more than made up for it. You nearly lost your mind in sudden laughter.

“The crazy man who shouted at me from this alley last night--”

“--Abe?”

“Yes! Abe! Exactly! Abe!” Loki snapped to full attention, a positive bounce in his step as he finally moved in on his new friends. You followed behind him slowly, stepping back to let a car pass first. “Do you know what Abe does with things he finds? Shiny things? Does he stash them somewhere or sell them?”

“Shiny things, like what?” asked Di.

Loki tried to get her to understand. “Like an emerald, perhaps?”

Di shrugged. “I know he’s got some kind of relationship with Kit at the pawn shop near Gannon’s. I guess he’d go there to sell. Dunno if he does, though.”

“Thank you, my Lady,” said Loki graciously, thinking nothing of taking the woman’s hand in his and laying a brief kiss on it.

“Woo! Come on back anytime, Naked Loki!” she squealed.

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denimbex1986 · 5 months

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'“What? …What?” were David Tennant’s first words when, to everyone’s surprise, including his, he regenerated out of Jodie Whittaker as the Doctor, and not Ncuti Gatwa, as we all expected. For three episodes the 10th Doctor is back as the 14th, before Gatwa takes over at Christmas, and in his first proper episode – after a neat appearance in a Comic Relief sketch – he has moved onto “Why?”

Allow me to help you there, David: falling ratings.

Oh, you feel bad for Jodie Whittaker, a great Doctor unfortunate to be trapped in a wormhole of so-so episodes and constantly under attack from galactic sized fury-bots, slamming down their GB News mugs (filled with good, white tea, love) and taking to the social medias to cry about the bloody woke mob at the BBC filling our children’s heads with stupid ideas about tolerance and being nice.

But really, the problem, to my mind, was that while showrunner Chris Chibnall threw everything at Whittaker’s Doctor, he didn’t truly hit upon a transcendent stone-cold classic episode, and the whole thing felt like it was trying too hard; it lacked a bit of easy-to-watch magic. Something which is immediately back with “the one in the skinny suit”, under returning showrunner Russell T Davies.

As Dr Who’s 60th anniversary approaches, this should turn into something of a celebration of Davies, the man who kickstarted the new Who back in 2005 with Christopher Ecclestone as the Doctor, before hitting absolute gold with Tennant. While Chibnall was working on multiple meta-levels leaving us all trying to keep up, Davies pitches this first episode as more like E.T. in Eastenders. This sense of bringing things down-to-earth is helped further by the return of Catherine Tate as Donna, easily the funniest of his companions.

Taking place in London – and I do love Davies’ London, he was a pioneer in showing positively, and accurately, a city remarkable for its peaceful diversity (don’t believe the hype) – The Star Beast sees a cute little Furby-like alien called The Meep ‘crash’ into the city, which falls under the protection of Donna’s daughter, Rose, as some other ant-like aliens hunt it down.

The Doctor is back to help, with the catch being that he has to prevent Donna from remembering who he is, otherwise She Will Definitely Die. Without getting too bogged down, the last time we saw Donna, she basically had to have her mind wiped for her own protection, after she took on Time Lord powers that were too strong for her human body – her tragedy, heartbreaking at the time, was that she’d have to live her life without remembering her time with the Doctor.

However, as we all know in post-Marvel entertainment, there’s always a way around She Will Definitely Die – but the particular way this episode plays out is really going to upset the Woke Police. For Donna’s daughter Rose is trans, people – cue GB News mugs smashing against flat screens – and her trans-ness is very much central to the plot as well as the thematic ideas of identity crises and Otherness (not least with regards to the Doctor) and what do we do, attack these people or rally around them. Oh boy, is it going to drive people mad.

It's actually an almost touching move by Davies in the way it backs up the seriously upfront progressive humanism of Chibnall’s tenure, and comes in defiance of those who thought featuring Rosa Parks in an episode was the end of the world. What people seem to forget about Doctor Who, both the Woke Police and those other furrow-browed joy deniers, the Fanboy Police, is that it is a family show, designed to be watched with kids.

Yes it should be clever and mind-bending but it’s not supposed to be careless or cool. You need a bit of Horrible Histories, you need a bit of future thinking around humanity, because, well, this is science fiction – it’s the nature of this game even more than dressing up as Klaatu.

Anyway, the truth is this episode is a little bit thin, the big twist around The Meep pretty obvious (though not to my shocked 8 year old), and the saving of Donna does end up being really quite clunky. But it doesn’t really matter.

It’s about the magic: the chemistry between Tennant and Tate is winning, the laugh out loud moments hit double figures (I particularly like Donna’s repeated disses to the cutesy Meep – “space rat”, “ferret from Mars”), the Tardis has had a rather natty Modern House renovation, and the Disney money now coming into the show is well spent on set-pieces that manage to be Spielberg-ian in uniting the spectacular with the suburban.

It’s a hoot, and as a way to drum up attention and goodwill towards the series in the run-up towards Gatwa taking over, it’s quite irresistible.

Gatwa will certainly have a lot to live up to, mind. For Tennant truly is the best Doctor ever. Yes, yes, I know you liked Tom Baker when you were a kid, but really, you're wrong: Tennant is the best. Like a Tex Avery cartoon trapped inside Camus’ Meursault, he’s an existentialist hero for all the family. Saturday night must-watch TV is back, and it’s Woker than ever, folks...'

#David Tennant #Jodie Whittaker #Catherine Tate #Donna Noble #Ncuti Gatwa #Doctor Who #60th Anniversary #the Meep

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larphis · 8 months

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I had two David Tennant related dreams last night. I think I might actually be starting to lose it lmao.

In the first dream I found out that besides Staged, David also had a podcast with Michael Sheen that basically had the same structure and casual cute chaos as Staged but looked very similar to the IASIP podcast and also had the transition from audio-only to full on filmed episodes.

And the dream continued with basically just me being excited to learn that this podcast existed.

The only thing I can remember besides that is that there was one double episode where they recorded a sleepover at David’s house and then a sleepover at Michael’s house.

It didn’t even turn into anything odd or perverted, it was literally just a cute bestie sleepover with them sitting in sleeping bags and bantering and for some reason they even kept the recording of them falling asleep, so those episodes where like 12 hours long and the last 4 where just footage of them sleeping and rolling around.

And the second dream was just me -for some reason - going down the David Tennant wikipedia rabbit hole to where I eventually looked at Ty’s Wikipedia page and found out that he had a boyfriend - so my dream-self just thought:

“huh so that’s why David is so sweet and protective of LGBTQ kids”

And then I just woke up??

Like what am I supposed to do with that information now? T-T

Sertaline dreams just be hitting different, man lmao.

#dreams #david tennant #staged bbc #ty tennant #michael sheen #good omens #tagging good omens because I’m sure Ty’s convincing gay acting caused the 2nd dream #which is weird though since I haven’t rewatched season two since 3 weeks #but hey neither should my brain go into David Tennant mode right now #yet here we are #sertraline #sertraline dreams

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mailmiocuoredipietratremaancora · 1 year

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13th Doctor Who era considerations:

Ok, I’ve not finished 13th era yet, I’m in the middle of season 12, but I’d like to share some feelings and impressions about it. I’m probably gonna write unpopular stuff but whatever, let’s do it.

I’m sorry but I’m struggling to like Jodie’s Doctor as much as I liked David’s or Matt’s ones. I mean, I like her style and she’s still really nice and quirky, but I feel it’s not my kind of Doctor. I’m open to the possibility of changing my mind cause it happened something similar with 12: it took me a while in order to appreciate him as much as he deserved, even though he’s not one of my favourites.

And please, PLEASE, it’s not cause it’s a woman, I think it’s because I don’t like Jodie’s acting: she’s not quirky, effervescent, theatrical enough (my favourite characteristics of Matt’s Doctor). It could be argued that neither was 10, and that’s true, but (apart from the fact that I wouldn’t compare Tennant’s acting skills to those of any other actor in Doctor Who) so far I haven’t even seen the solemnity that 10 (and sometimes 12) had. Maybe it’s not her, maybe it’s the writing, the scripts, idk. And again: I haven’t seen the whole era yet, so I can change my mind.

Companions: I struggled with Martha and Rory. On the other hand, it took me a while to appreciate Donna, but eventually I loved her; I instantly fell in love with River, Amy and Jack. Rose and Clara: they’re my dead ends. Rose… I’m sorry I can’t like her: I don’t like the actress, I don’t like the attitude, she’s just not for me. Clara was way better than Rose, but I never got into her relationship with 11; in fact, I liked her more with 12. Up to now, I love Graham, especially the fact he calls the Doctor “Doc” and that he manages to be original and actually funny. I like Yaz and Ryan too, but till now I haven’t seen this big relevance for the stories and/or in their relationship with the Doctor, and in general I don’t get the same energy I got from other companions (same feeling I had with Martha). Probably lack of characterisation due to the writing? I admit that I like Ryan more when he’s pairing with Graham, and I already know (spoilers) about all the sentimental stuff between the Doctor and Yaz, so at least for this I think there’s gonna be a huge development.

The episodes: I know we live in the politically correct era, but there’s a bit too much politics for me. The thing I love/loved the most about Doctor Who is/was the ability to explore some core issues of humanity, society etc. by creating new worlds, new atmospheres, new paradigms. Obviously politics was there, but it wasn’t so blatant, externalised, perhaps even superficial. I could easily say it’s been woke-washed. I think (I hope) we don’t need descriptive writing, it’s the easiest way out, isn’t it? We need courageous and innovative writing, a new vision, new ways of describing our reality and the problems that we, as a species, have to face. Art teaches that you don’t need to call something by its name for people to recognise it. Satire, parody, allegory: that’s the power and beauty of art, we should never be afraid to use it.

Post scriptum: a really positive mention goes for the Master. I was looking forward to seeing Dhawan’s Master and he didn’t let me down: eccentric, theatrical, creepy and overbearing. So much potential there.

#mailmiocuoredipietratremaancora #doctor who #jodie whittaker #thirteen doctor

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neonpigeons · 5 years

Text

had a dream that there was a missing scene in good omens where crowley basically wanted to see what it was like to be human and have a family and whatever so for like 20 years he pretended he was human and made himself age but at the end he went back to aziraphale of course

#gotta. stop reading fic before bed #there were more details but it was kinda sad??#he burned down his house at one point #god there was also a different dream where i was like #oh shit i have a crush on david tennant this is awful #and then i woke up and now im confused. anyway #ari hush #dreams #this is all so realistic i know crowley would never have the patience for this sort of thing #and he didn't talk to aziraphale for those 20 years how stupid is my brain #fuck i meant... *unrealistic

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themalhambird · 3 years

Text

Growing Up Broken: I Talk About My (A)sexuality For 4 ¼ Pages.

I am asexual.

No, this doesn’t mean that I’m some form of plant budding off copies of myself if I get enough water and sunlight. It’s a shame. I could do a lot with multiple copies of myself- get someone else to do the dishes, the cleaning, my schoolwork…

I am asexual.

Asexuality is the absence of sexual desires or feelings for other people. I say absence deliberately: sexual attraction is not something that I lack or am missing. I am not going without. I’m just a 23 year old who has never once felt the desire to have sex with another person, who couldn’t describe how it feels to “fancy” someone if there was a gun to their head, who thinks women and men and anyone in between can sometimes be stunningly beautiful, would possibly be nice to cuddle- but kissing on the mouth seems like it would be a really weird thing to do.

I am asexual, and it’s almost Pride Month, and so I want to untangle some of the thoughts in my head and spin them out on to paper, to try and lay out my feelings about my sexuality, or lack thereof, and what it’s like growing up when no one bothers to tell you that not experiencing sexual desire like, ever, is a thing. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

It’s 2014. Puberty has doing stuff to me for the last two years or so: periods (urgh), breasts (neat!), underarm hair (why do I have to shave this? no one’s gonna see it), growth spurts (I’m getting taller than my older sister. I want to keep going till I’m taller than mum). The only thing not happening is wanting to have sex, something the nurse who came to Talk To Us All About Growing Up back in 2009 assured us Year Sixes would definitely happen as soon as puberty hit.

Still. It’ll happen soon, probably. Sixteen is still a bit too young to be having sexual feelings, right? The boys…really not interesting at all, but the other girls are pretty. I like their hair. I like the shape of their bodies. I just don’t fancy any of them. When we’re told to imagine our future husbands or wives in class (don’t ask my why, I’ve long forgotten the point of the exercise, I just remember that) I picture a wife.

(Lesbian is the first label I apply to myself. I stick it on tentatively- keep peeling it off my shirt and putting it back somewhere different like I’m not quite sure where it fits. It’s not wrong, necessarily. I’m just not certain it’s right. I like girls a whole lot better but I’m not saying I could never love a guy. I’m just not attracted to them. I’m not attracted to women, either- but I feel like I will be. When I’m old enough to feel that kind of thing. )

Sex Ed lessons are mortifying. We’re asked to list all the sexual terms we know on an A3 sheet of paper. I don’t know what half the things other people say mean- blowjob, 69, masturbate, porn . I don’t know how other people know these things either. We’re sixteen. It’s too young.

That summer I play Sebastian in an abridged version of Twelfth Night and it convinces me to take Drama at A-level, although I didn’t at GCSE. The drama classes teach me two things. First of all, I don’t like acting women. I prefer breeches rolls. I don’t know why. We’re talking about my asexuality, not my gender confusion, so let’s put a pin in that and move on to point two. My drama class teaches me that everyone my age is having sex, or wants to have sex, or is planning on having sex soon; sex is a constant, every class, every conversation. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. So apparently sixteen (seventeen) isn’t too young after all.

It’s like this. One day you wake up and you realise that everyone else is speaking a language you don’t understand. Suddenly, sexual feelings aren’t something that no one your age is having but you’ll all develop soon- it’s that sexual feelings are something that everybody your age is having apart from you. People your age are dating, kissing, fucking, and it’s not something you’re interested in doing, necessarily, but you still feel so horribly left out. Like you’re missing some kind of major milestone. You try not to let it bother you- you watch Buffy every Monday you get to see your dad. (You watch loss of virginity be portrayed as growing up). You read. (The books you pick up all involve love and love always seems to at least imply sex). You- google things. You google the words you didn’t understand in that sex ed class. You google “how to tell if you’re attracted to someone” in case there’s some secret signal your body sent you that you missed. You feel like you should know if you’ve ever felt sexual attraction but then maybe you’re just really, really dumb. Maybe there’s something wrong with you. The NHS website reckons that if you’ve got a low sex drive you ought to see a doctor. The girls in your drama class keep talking about boys and sex and sex and boys and you aren’t really interested in either of those things. You cling to the thought, lesbian and hope that when you get to university, you’ll stop being so repressed. Girls are pretty- but the ones at school are either your friends or kind of mean. Of course you don’t fancy anyone there. University. University will save you. (Boys are sometimes pretty too. There are boys at school whose personalities are nice enough- who are the type of man you wouldn’t mind dating one day maybe- but you can’t ever picture yourself having sex with one. Dicks seem weird and really not the kind of thing you’d want inside you. I mean for fuck’s sake- why? You can’t even get a tampon in.)

I don’t like looking back on this. Sixteen, seventeen year old me was starting to get pretty freaked out. I like looking back at the first year of uni even less, because if seventeen year old me was freaking out, eighteen year old me was buying alcohol. That’s how it goes, right? Sex and alcohol. You see it all the time on T.V. Fictional people get fictional drunk and fictional cheat while they’re on fictional breaks with their fictional partners. David Tennant is pretty. A man at work is handsome and more importantly intelligent, into Shakespeare, into good conversation. The label switches from lesbian to ‘bisexual but heavily skewed toward women’ and I cling to that as tightly as possible because after that, I’m out of options. It is impossible that I’m not feeling sexual attraction: the whole world screams about sexual fucking attraction all the fucking time, I’m obviously just too uptight, I obviously just need to relax-

I once drank a whole bottle of wine in what was essentially one go. I paused for breath, but that was about it- I don’t think I even bothered with a glass. My goal was to get myself drunk enough that I could feel sexual attraction. I thought that the best way to go about things- to finally ‘grow up’- would be to get super drunk, and then leave the flat and find someone who would screw me. I reasoned that I would enjoy it once I was doing it- after all, the whole world pushes sex as this wholly desirable thing for any normal adult to want, even need- so I would like it once I was doing it and then I would be fixed. Fortunately, drinking a whole bottle of wine when you’ve never had more than a single glass of champagne or a couple of glasses of rum and apple juice before in your life gets you past “lowered inhibitions” to “can’t walk straight or upright” very quickly. I got as far as the bathroom, threw up, a lot, and staggered back to my room. I woke up at 3 pm the next afternoon feeling stupid for drinking, and mad at myself for still being a virgin.

I had a lot of problems in my first year of university and not all of them were about my sexuality crisis. I was isolated, fairly friendless, and not really cut out for socialising with my housemates who were probably all lovely people, but I find new people painfully difficult and hiding away seemed easier. But the feeling that there was something broken inside me because I wasn’t experiencing what everything seemed to be telling me was one of the most vital parts of the human experience- sexual attraction to other people- contributed to my general feelings of self-loathing and disgust. I attempted to induce sexual desire in myself by drinking on several further occasions, although never quite to the same extent as the first time. I’m not sure whether this counts as self-harm, but it certainly wasn’t healthy.

I didn’t know asexuality was a thing.

I knew I wasn’t straight- I’d known that for a while. I learnt that I enjoyed reading, talking, even writing about sex, as long as it was sex between people who weren’t real, but fantasising about fictional characters having sex and fantasying about myself having sex are two very different things. The former happened fairly frequently. The latter didn’t happen once, and still never has. My second year at university was better than my first: I was living with friends, I was further away from campus which meant I had to walk more, which probably helped, I had also started to make several friends online with whom I could happily chat even when I wasn’t in the mood for ‘actual’ people. I used bisexual to describe myself because on the rare occasions I thought about romance, I couldn’t really see myself ruling out anyone who was willing to put up with me.

I’m not quite clear when I first heard the term ‘asexuality’. I became aware of it gradually. Someone I followed on Tumblr identified as ‘grey-ace’. Characters from my favourite fantasy series were being headcanoned as ‘asexual’. At some point I must have learnt properly what that meant.

It sometimes feels like there ought to have been a lightbulb moment- like I should have seen the word, seen the definition, and instantly seen myself. But it is very, very hard to delete the message- ‘sex is important- sex is what grown-ups do- sex is what you should want to do’ – that the world constantly sends to us: in advertising, in entertainment, in the conversations of a drama class that always circled back to that topic, to the detriment of the sole seventeen year old who wasn’t really bothered. To embrace asexuality seemed like I was giving up on trying to fix myself, on waiting for the right person to come and make everything better. On the potential of their being a right person. I can wrap my head around people having casual sex very easily. It’s romantic love without sexual desire that I’m scared won’t work- how am I supposed to know if it’s love without there also being physical attraction? No romance arc that I had ever seen was without an element of sexual tension. So, no lightbulb moment for me. No switch going off- “aha, at last, that’s what I am!”. Just a gradual thought washing across my mind every now and then, like the tide rushing up a patch of sand and drawing straight back, leaving only dampness to show where there had been a good half-inch of water only a moment ago.

I might be asexual?

And ‘I might’ becomes ‘I think I am’, and the tide starts coming in. ‘I think I am’ became ‘I am’ at some point or other.

I am asexual.

I find reassurance in knowing that there’s a word for what I am, for how I (do not) feel. I am asexual. Not broken, or damaged, or too uptight to properly feel, or too dumb to recognise what I do feel. I am asexual- I have an absence of any sexual desire for others and that’s perfectly okay. I might fall in love one day. I might not. I don’t know how you’re supposed to know if you have the capacity to fall in love before you find yourself doing it. It might be nice to have a wife. It would also be nice to have a cat. I could cope with it just being me, a cat, and good friends for the rest of my life. If I fall in love- if I am capable of falling in love- it will just mean I am asexual, but romantic, and I will have learnt something new about myself. The point is-

The point is, I am incredibly lucky that I stumbled across Asexuality before I got myself hurt trying to force something that wasn’t there. The point is, this world assumes that sexual desires are the norm, and maybe they are, but that just makes it all the more important that people know that they aren’t abnormal for not experiencing sexual desire. To all the people who need to hear it: You are not broken. You are not alone.

I’m not sure how to wrap this up. I feel like I should say something profound or something. But I think I’m just gonna leave it like this:

I am asexual. Asexuality is the absence of sexual desires or feelings for other people. I say absence deliberately: sexual attraction is not something that I lack or am missing. I am not going without. I’m just a 23 year old who has never once felt the desire to have sex with another person, who couldn’t describe how it feels to “fancy” someone if there was a gun to their head, who thinks women and men and anyone in between can sometimes be stunningly beautiful, and possibly be nice to cuddle- but kissing on the mouth seems like it would be a really weird thing to do. I am not broken. I am not ‘going through a phase’ or ‘looking for attention’ or ‘trying to be special’. Everyone’s special, fuck you. Knowing that I am not the only person to feel how I feel makes me feel like I’m standing on solid ground. May all people experiencing the same confusion and distress over their sexual orientation that I felt growing up find their way safely to the same solid ground: you are not broken. We’re not broken.

#asexuality #wow this got long #no i haven't proof read it i just wanted to get it off my chest #discussion of sex tw #alcohol tw #self harm tw #(mostly just in case I'm not sure if it counts or not)#I don't know what this is except a long winded account of growing up asexual when you don't know that's a thing and how you cope with that #or- y'know- don't cope with that #maybe someone else will find it helpful or relatable idk

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davidtennantxmichaelsheen · 4 years

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david tennant’s obsession

a david tennant x reader

(you are the newest companion of the tenth doctor,david tennant develops feelings for you and is willing to do anything to make you his,when you fall for a guy on set David gets a serious case of the green eyed monster)

your on breakfast tv giving an interview about your first ever tv role

interviewer: so y/n hows it feel to be the newest doctor who companion?

y/n: it’s really exciting to be the tenth doctors companion i’m really forward to working with david tennant.

interviewer: is it true you’ve never acted before?

y/n: yes unless school plays count,i won the part in a magazine competition.

after the interview was over you headed to your trailer not long after sitting down to rest your feet as you’d been interviewed on various tv shows all day,you got a knock on your trailer door.

david: Hi it’s nice to finally meet my new co star,i bought you some chocolate as a welcome gift.I can’t wait to work with you tomorrow.

y/n: thank you that’s very kind of you David.

david: you have such a nice accent where are you from?

y/n: (where you live)

david: do you have a boyfriend back home?

y/n: no,why do you ask?

david: just making conversation,you have such a beautiful smile.I better go i have some interviews to do.

you decided to go to bed as you had to be up at 6am,at 5:30am there was a knock on your door you opened the door to find a massive plush bear holding a heart saying “i love you” you looked for a card to find the sender but couldn’t find one.

You put the bear on your bed and went to get ready for your first day of filming.

y/n: doctor be careful there could be daleks in there

doctor: don’t worry i’ll be fine just stay in the tardis.

director: and cut great job y/n and david you’ve earned a tea break

you sat at a table with david a cute guy handed you a cup of tea.

tea guy: is it to your liking? i can get you some sugar.

y/n: it’s fine what your name?

simon: my name is simon

y/n: well Simon thank you for the tea.

david glared at simon as he walked away.

david: i was thinking of taking you out for dinner tonight to celebrate your first day.

y/n: that’s very sweet of you david.

simon was listening to his ipod you heard your favourite song.

y/n: wow i love that band there my favourite

simon: there my favourite too,i actually have a spare ticket for a gig tonight as one of my friends dropped out last minute maybe you’d like to go with me?

y/n: you sure,those tickets are so hard to get hold of,okay it’s a date.Sorry david i can’t do dinner tonight maybe another time.

david: sure,it’s fine

simon went to his trailer to get changed on his wall written in red where the words “i’m watching you”

simon: seriously guys nice joke.

suddenly a hooded figure with a crowbar attacked simon leaving him with a broken leg.you heard simon’s scream and ran to his aid David appeared not soon after.

David: we should call an ambulance,what happened?

simon: some hooded guy attacked me with a crowbar

y/n: your gonna be okay

simon: why would someone wanna hurt me?

an ambulance drove simon away david put his arm round you to comfort you.

david: he left the tickets maybe you and me can go together?

y/n: who would write something like this,i got given a bear from some unknown sender.

david: you know what doctor who fans are like.

y/n: what if it was sinister like this incident here

david: whoever sent it has nothing but love for you.

you went to the gig with david,as you where walking home david took your hand and smiled.

y/n: i had fun with you today.

david: me too.

the next day filming resumed,the director was in a grumpy mood so he shouted at you.

director: why did we hire you y/n? remind me? your acting in that scene was shit.

you felt hurt by the directors words,david looked at the director in anger.The director went to his trailer for a time out.

david: dam i’ve gotta make an important call back in 5

the director poured himself a drink a hooded man appeared in his doorway holding a knife.you heard a scream and ran towards the trailer.on the wall written in blood was the words “you hurt her/him i hurt you”.

the director was bleeding from his stomach david took off his jacket to slow down the bleeding.You rang an ambulance.

producer: okay where taking a week from filming while police investigate this.

y/n: i’d go back to my london flat but how things are currently i’m too scared to be alone.

david: you can stay with me if you like.

david put your case in his spare bedroom,you unpacked your stuff while david made you both dinner.

y/n you made pasta i love pasta,david this is the start of a beautiful relationship

david: really you think so.

after dinner david and you watched tv,david slid his arm round your shoulders.You felt kinda uncomfortable so made an excuse to leave to go to bed.You took you drink with you.

y/n i’m tired i’m off to bed goodnight

david: if you get scared you can always sleep in with me

you laughed but didn’t really know if he was joking or not,you got changed for bed then got in and read a book for while till you fell asleep.David watched you sleep he took a pair of scissors and took some of your hair he smelt it and crept back to his room.You woke after a few hours so reached for your drink you accidentally knocked it on the white duvet cover so thought you better put it in the washing machine.You checked there wasn’t anything coloured already in the washer first,you found a grey hoody with blood on it.You looked in horror not knowing what to do you put it back in and went back to your room.

david: you okay?

y/n: i’m fine just put my empty glass in the sink.

david stroked your forehead and kissed you goodnight,when he was back in his room you snuck the front door to leave but it was locked.

david: not going anywhere are you?

y/n: i thought umm i’d go just for a little walk.

david: it’s 1am it’s dangerous out there,your much safer here with me.You’ve spilt drink on your bed you better take my bed.

y/n: yes thank you but where well you sleep?

david: next to you of course,it’s the safest place for you right now.

david grabbed your wrist and dragged you to his bedroom.

y/n: please don’t hurt me

david: why would i hurt you,i love you.i’d do anything to protect you.

y/n: even try to kill people? i saw the hoody with blood on it

david: it’s fake blood it was for a role,you think i’m the dangerous man on the set of doctor who? you also think i sent the i love you bear?

y/n: i never told you it said “i love you” how would you know that?.

david: okay the bear was me,the bad things where not me.

y/n fine i believe you i’m gonna go see simon tomorrow in hospital.

you lay on david’s bed,david lay next to you keeping his side of the bed.When you where fast asleep david put his arms around you.

david whispered “i did it all for you my precious y/n”

the next day you went to the hospital to see simon the police where with him.

police: so you say you heard him say “dam it” in a Scottish accent before you where found?

y/n: excuse me i think i found some crucial evidence towards the case it’s david tennant’s hoodie i found it in his washer.

police: thank you we’ll get it tested.

simon: how did you get hold of that?

y/n: i’m staying with him,i have to go back if i don’t david well know the police are on to him and run.I’ll make some excuse for the hoodie.

david: your home,how was he?

y/n: he’s out soon why are you wearing a black suit and tie?

david: for our wedding of course,i’ve sorted your outfit in the bedroom go put it on the ceremony shall start soon.

y/n: david your scaring me now.

david: it’s just a game go put it on.

david took you to his bedroom,you saw laid on his bed your wedding outfit.

y/n:i don’t wanna wear that

david: you shall do as you are told!!! aww baby i didn’t mean to shout.come here.

david held you tight in his arms you tried to pull away from him but his grip grew tighter you kicked him between the legs and ran towards the front door david grabbed you and pushed your back against the wall and kissed you on the lips.Suddenly you hear police sirens.

david: why are there police cars outside?

the police burst through davids door and arrested him,you where told to give a statement to a detective you waited in an interview room.In walked a familiar looking man

Alec Hardy: hello i’m alec hardy

you screamed,you awoke to find it was all a nightmare.David was laid beside you.

David: nightmare again? i’ve warned you about eating bloody cheese before bed.Oh can you wash my grey hoody tomorrow.

so it was all a bad dream or was it?.....yes it was.

the end

#david tennant #david tennant x reader #david tennant has issues 😂#alec hardy #fanfiction #fanfic #doctor who #tenth doctor #10th doctor #dr who #loobop #gender neutral

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copperbadge · 4 years

Photo

Taking this photo is the last thing I remember doing on January 5th, around 7:30pm. [Description: A picture of Polk on the Most Coveted Blanket, with one leg stretched out in front of her.]

Wanna hear about my concussion? Have a peep under the cut!

The morning of Monday, January 6th, I didn’t feel well when I woke up; when I actually got out of bed I realized I was dizzy, nauseated, and in pain, and my glasses weren’t on the bedside table where I always put them. When I looked in the mirror I had a black eye and cuts on the left side of my head, and I realized I didn’t remember how I’d gotten them, or when I’d put on my pyjamas and gone to bed the night before. I found my glasses on the living room floor next to the cat toy bin.

One of the only good decisions I made the entire week was to get dressed and go to the walk-in clinic across the street and get seen for a neurological exam.

One trip to the ER and several scans later, we determined that I had a concussion but wasn’t going to die from it. I had a lot of time to sit and stare at the walls while I was waiting for doctors to come and look at me, and out of sheer boredom I actually managed to reconstruct the rest of my previous night. Check this shit out, from my FitBit monitor:

[Description: a line chart with a squiggly up-and-down line that peaks occasionally above 90 but mostly falls well below it.]

That’s a chart of my pulse over the course of the 5th of January. See where it says “fat burn”? My doctors and I are pretty sure that spike in my pulse is an adrenaline rush where I tripped and fell in my living room and bashed my head on something. Possibly the floor, more likely the ottoman of the chair where I found my glasses the following morning. FitBit’s timestamping is a little iffy but it was around 8:20pm when that spike hit. (I had thought it was 8 and I’ve told several people it was 8 but my notes from that day and the FitBit both say 8:20.)

And then I got up and went to bed where I fell asleep around 8:45, at least according to the FitBit:

[Description: a FitBit sleep chart, showing sleep from 8:47pm to 3:27am, with various periods of deep, light, and REM sleep, and faint moments of wakefulness.]

Waking up at 3:30am is actually not unusual for me; in this case I eventually went back to sleep but FitBit recorded that as a second sleep event for about an hour, from roughly 6-7am.

Here’s a fun fact: I know I sent this email to my boss and colleagues on January 6th, and for all of January 6th I clearly remembered sending this email, because I talked about it on the 6th. I remember talking about sending it.

But I don’t remember sending it.

[Description: an email sent at 7:07am on January 6th, which reads “Hi team, I’m not feeling well and I’m going to take a sick day- with any luck I should be back in tomorrow. Thanks for understanding! S.”]

A lot of my friends and family are significantly more freaked out by all this than I am, and honestly that may very well be the concussion too; there’s no emotional depth to the way I think about missing an entire evening of my life and having a fairly severe injury as a result. That part strikes me, and I know this is inappropriate, as mostly funny. It’s probably a coping mechanism, but might legitimately be a crossed wire somewhere in my already poorly-wired brain.

I have a lot of feelings about the concussion’s impact, mostly frustration that I’m recovering slowly and sadness that I had to basically write off my entire January -- I couldn’t go on a trip I’d planned, and while I got to travel this past week, I’ve basically spent the rest of the month going between work and home without too many side trips elsewhere, even locally, like out to dinner after work or to the Target near work in the morning to get a snack.

At this point it’s been weeks and I’m improving, but I still struggle with what I call the three Ds: Decision making, Depth perception, and Dialogue. I’m not crossing the street anywhere but a crosswalk and any time except when the light is green, because I’m afraid of making a poor judgement call and crossing too close to oncoming traffic. I’m mostly steady on my feet at this point, but for days I couldn’t navigate stairs easily, and steps-down and curbs still fuck me up; I’m only this week getting back up to the speed at which I normally walk when I’m going somewhere.

And when I write I’m fine, but when I’m speaking I often grope for words, particularly proper names for things, and have to describe them through their association with other things. It’s gotten better, but I still sometimes occasionally have to go four or five steps away from something to get back to it.

This is a literal example of something I said recently:

“Who is the actor, he was on Doctor Who? After the bald one. That actor, only in the movie...I mean, it wasn’t a movie, it was a long movie...a series. That actor, in the series, where the guy who wrote Sandman co-wrote the book? The character he played.”

Things I could not reference by name:

David Tennant or Chris Eccleston

The Ninth and Tenth Doctors by number

Good Omens

Terry Pratchett or Neil Gaiman

The character Crowley, which is what I was actually trying to reference

But I could get to a reference that would lead to David Tennant, and one that would lead to Neil Gaiman, and together those could get me to Good Omens if someone else filled in a few blanks. Why is Sandman, a comic series I haven’t read in ten years, still in my head, when Good Omens, a book I love and read semi-yearly and just watched the miniseries of, isn’t? Who fucking knows.

At one point I also called a hammer and nails, “The thing you hit wall fasteners with.” It’s like playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon only with every proper noun.

It is getting better, but I think the point of this post (other than sharing a funny picture of my cat) is that I just simply cannot recommend getting a concussion, especially at the age of forty. It’s no good, zero stars, would not concuss again.

But if you do wake up with no memory of the previous night and head wounds, and you wonder if you should go to the doctor: YES. YOU SHOULD GO TO THE DOCTOR.

PUT ON SOME SOCKS AND GO TO THE DOCTOR.

#ways I have injured myself #concussion

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staysuki · 3 years

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ok i just have to let it all out omfg. idk how my brain is and if any of these are real AT ALL but i’ve just had the wackest sleep.

i was dreaming that i was watching stuff right, one youtube video and a movie and it was in GREAT DETAIL (though my brain is already starting to forget it now) but not only was i watching these once, i watched them twice in my dream. i woke up immediately and searched it up BUT NONE OF THEM EXISTED 😀 but it was so… vivid????

the youtube video too, it felt like such a real thing. it was a video of ariana grande interviewing a bunch of celebs (it was like such a vogue/vanity fair type of video where there were challenges and whatnot but they didn’t really care to finish it). it had billie eilish, bretman rock, britney spears(???), and also david tennant for some reason(???). i remember ariana would get pieces of paper from a bowl and those were the challenges she has to succeed in and one of those were to get britney spears cancelled, which ofc, was just a funny goofy bit, she didn’t really do it. they just talked and whatnot. but idk, i don’t even watch celebrities, or interviews, nor do i listen to their songs so it was so random omfg.

the movie, on the other hand, i only remember the final part but it’s a comedy movie with ken jeong and terry crews as a duo (i think it’s pretty easy to guess what kind of comedic bit they play). but basically they were leading a party (as in a group of adventurers, not a rave) and they got stuck in some ancient kingdom civiliation but also it’s scifi because there’s aliens(???). ken jeong gets stuck in a room and was presumed dead but then at the final battle where the party is gonna face off death, he comes back and terry was asking what happened to him and ken says he found the answer to save them but basically the punchline was that they needed to colonize the civilization, he was saying stuff like “the answer is to stay here and take this place. and then we take this other castle. then this castle, that’ll be our parking lot—“ it’s a wholeass bit but ofc, terry was against it so everyone dies (but in a comedic rated g way ofc).

anyways, that’s def a post. idk why but i just wanted to share how bizarre my dreams are.

#ash life #📝#this is so weird #there was a time in my life where i got insomnia because my body was so afraid to sleep because some of my dreams are just so bad

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thedaughterofkings · 4 years

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Tag Game: Dig a Little Deeper

Thank you for the tag, @theproblemwithstardust! These are always fun to think through!

1. do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen? Blue

2. would you prefer to live in the country or in the city? Depends on the city - I was very happy in Edinburgh, but wouldn’t be able to live in New York, I think, at least not for long. In general, the happy middle is ideal - big enough to get most of the advantages of a city (big shops with long opening hours, good travel connections, some cultural options), but small enough and close enough to the country side to have a garden and a short way into a forest

3. if you could learn a new skill, what would it be? I think I’d like to be better at handy man type things, and just feel more confident to try them out? Other than that there are so many instruments I’d love to learn!

4. do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? I very, very rarely drink coffee, and if I do I’ll often add some sugar. But I drink tea every day and take no sugar there.

5. what was your favorite book as a child? An old book of my grandma’s, from when she was a child, which I used to read every single time we visited! It was about four sisters and their coming of age and I just loved it! I really need to reread it. Other than that our fairy tale books (good old German bloody versions, no disney sugar in this household!), and Max Kruse’s Urmel series!

6. do you prefer baths or showers? Showers for sure! I pretty much only take a bath in winter and then I’ll usually take a quick shower afterwards to wash my hair, because washing my hair in the bath is a pain that will lead to flooding.

7. if you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be? A DRAGON!!!!! If that’s for some reason not an option, then a selkie!

8. paper or electronic books? Paper books and electronic fics - though I’ve seen some book binding tutorials making the rounds and I’m very tempted now to print out my favourites and bind them prettily!

9. what is your favorite item of clothing? Gosh, I don’t even know? Probably a dress, but I wouldn’t be able to choose between them...

10. do you like your name? would you like to change it? I like it and wouldn’t want to change it! It’s relatively rare here (though not world wide, so not some strange invention from my parents), but not to the point of being incomprehensible (usually - there have been some interesting spellings, especially from English speaking people) and I think it fits me!

11. who is a mentor to you? My mum? But she’s my mum, so does she really count as a mentor? Singing wise perhaps my conductor, but she’s also a pain, so there’s that? I can’t really think of someone I’d truly call my mentor!

12. would you like to be famous? if so, what for? To do Dancing with the Stars! (Or Strictly, or Let’s dance, wherever they’ll take me!) No seriously, I’d love to do one of the dance shows, and that’s the only reason I’d like to be famous. I’d like to be reasonably rich of course, to be financially secure enough to be able to easily help family and friends and causes close to my heart (and buy and uphold a Scottish castle), but you don’t necessarily need to be famous for that. But just being famous for famous-sake? To be recognised wherever you go? No thanks. That sounds absolutely horrible.

13. are you a restless sleeper? That’s a pretty resounding yes unfortunately.

14. Do you consider yourself to be a romantic person? Oh god, I don’t even know. Do I enjoy romance? In fic yes, in books and films often not, in realy life excessive PDA creeps me out and honestly, my threshold for that is super low, so excessive probably means more like ‘any PDA’. As for whether I’m personally romantic? I’ve never been a romantic relationship and I’m not sure I even want to be!

15. which element best represents you? Earth perhaps? I’m not really sure what the elements even represent, though, so who knows! Probably not fire, though :p

16. who do you want to be closer to? I’m good actually, I think!

17. do you miss someone at the moment? Not in a particular ‘I miss you right now and won’t miss you in an hour’ way. I always miss my dad and grandpa, but that’s a different kind of missing, I think.

18. tell us about an early childhood memory. I remember the blinds and doors of the holiday home we stayed in when I was ... four? five? And the path to the beach!

19. what is the strangest thing you have eaten? I’m not the most adventurous eater admittedly, but as far as ‘I’ll never eat it again’, I took a bite out of a pickled egg once and it was properly disgusting!

20. what are you most thankful for? My family and my living circumstances (is that a word? term? It sounds weird)

21. do you like spicy food? Not reallyyyyyy - some spice is okay, and some spiciness is worse than others, but in general I’m a total wuss.

22. have you ever met someone famous? I said good morning to David Tennant, but I’m not sure I’d call that “having met him”.

23. do you keep a diary or journal? Nope! I’ve started one a couple of times, but never made it beyond three days or so!

24. do you prefer to use pen or pencil? Generally a pen, but a pencil is fine, too!

25. what is your star sign? Leo

26. do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy? Crunchy! (though I haven’t had actual cereal in ages)

27. what would you want your legacy to be? Positive, if I’m to have a legacy at all

28. do you like reading? What was the last book you read? Very much so! I last read Cornelia Funke’s Reckless series.

29. how do you show someone you love them? I try to tell them, and I try to make sure they know I’m here to listen or help or talk or whatever they need. I’m not sure I always succeed, though...

30. do you like ice in your drinks? No.

31. what are you afraid of? Not being good enough.

32. what is your favorite scent? My roses - individuals with a superb scent are The Lady of Shalott, Rose de Resht and Sweet Juliet, but there’s something really special about that first breath of rose air when Frühlingsduft (scent of spring), the first rose of the year blooms!

33. do you address older people by their name or surname? Surname! Unless they offer their first name and the ‘Du’, and even then I’ll probably try to avoid using either^^°

34. if money was not a factor, how would you live your life? I’d buy a Scottish castle and plant so many roses!

35. do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? Definitely pools, I’m always just a little afraid something is going to happen in natural water^^°

36. what would you do if you found $50 in the ground? I’d collect them (Unless I just saw who lost them) but try to put it towards something charitable (not 50, but one day I found two pounds on the ground, gave them to the homeless person with the kitty on Princes Street, found another pound, gave that to the one with the pupper and found another three, I think! That was a really nice day)

37. have you ever seen a shooting star? did you make a wish? Yes and yes!

38. what is one thing you would want to teach your children? To be kind? To themselves and others

39. if you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? A watercolour tattoo probably, perhaps of a dragon or fox, or a flower, and somewhere not always on display

40. what can you hear now? If I opened the window I’d probably hear at least some birds (some woke me up this morning with unholy yowling)

41. where do you feel the safest? At home.

42. what is one thing you want to overcome/conquer? My perfectionism that usually appears through some really strong procrastination. I also wish I was better at talking to people, especially people I don’t know or who are intimidating (which is everyone I don’t know and quite of those I know a little). I’ve mostly come to terms with my shyness, but that doesn’t make everything easy suddenly, unfortunately.

43. if you could travel back to any era, what would it be? There’s way too many! But for just one I’d love to see a Shakespeare play in the Globe when it was performed originally, ideally Twelfth Night or Hamlet! And I’d like to meet Queen Elizabeth I!

44. what is your most used emoji? 😘 probably or 😊

45. describe yourself using one word. overwhelmed (I am also hungry and tired right now, and that plays a big part in that - ask me again in an hour or so when I’ve eaten and the world will look a little more rose-y again^^°)

46. what do you regret the most? I can’t think of anything I truly regret - there are things I wish I’d done differently, but what’s done is done and I have to do the best with what I have now

47. last movie you saw? The Martian!

48. last tv show you watched? Die purpurnen Flüsse/Les rivières pourpres (the purple rivers), a French (German co production?) series based on the novel the Jean Reno film was based on!

49. invent a word and its meaning. This is hard because in German you can just compound away, so for every thing I think of, I’m like ‘but you could just put these three words together for the same effect!!!’ But this is English, so I’ll go with “pflundering” - the sound a bird makes when it takes a very enthusiastic bath!

This took quite a bit, and my brain is no longer able to come up with people to tag, so I’m tagging you, person who actually read through this! Do it (be honest, you already thought up most of your answers while reading it^^) and tag me, I’m curious!

#lessa says #lessa plays tag games #theproblemwithstardust #thank youuuuu #sometimes I wanted to just take your answer^^°

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thunderheadfred · 5 years

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Muses For Dummies

Just woke up from my first non-nightmare dream in quite a while.

So Um. David Tennant was inexplicably an art teacher in my hometown. Not someone who looked like David Tennant, or an alternate universe David Tennant who had chosen art over acting, but actual Tenth Doctor Bartemius Crowley, who apparently decided being a dad and small-town Minnesotan art teacher was his current Thing. And nobody even knew. I found out about it in some weird, circuitous way. It was like collectively on the Down Low, not even a big deal.

Huh, said I. Guess I should sign up.

And. Turns out? David Tennant, Actual Celebrity, was an exceptionally GOOD art teacher. Technically proficient himself, with a method grounded in atelier techniques, and the surprise bonus that he was insanely, incredibly kind.

It was a packed class, because obviously, and for the first bit, I just hid in the back of those numbers, mostly out of gawking curiosity. Why is David Tennant here? Why can David Tennant draw so well?? Did everybody else already know that David Tennant is some kind of Yoda for figurative oil painters??? I still can’t explain what he was doing in Minnesota (other than the TARDIS must have crashed there) but he loved teaching, was freakishly good at teaching, and happened to be teaching my exact favorite artistic disciplines. Hell, he even wanted to teach us portfolio bookbinding as a handy aside, and oh shit, did I mention he was NICE?

As much as the shrinking idiot in me tried to avoid it, this was in fact MY dream, and so Famous Tallman David Tennant inescapably ended up taking personal interest in my progress. He was so damn nice that I cracked and ended up tearfully blubbering about leaving art school prematurely. And oh, this shithead. As if he’d been waiting for me to confess, his eyes took on this uh-oh twinkle, a twinkle that suggests one’s therapist moonlights as a hitman.

oh ho HO! That twinkle seemed to gloat. This one shall be my special Project.

He was easy to talk to. Freakishly easy. Like an old friend or favorite cousin, a note-passing classmate who could scribble a perfect likeness of you but preferred stick figure gag humor. Eventually, he said something far more articulate than, “WELLLLL!” and my shriveled old heart fairly glowed.

Dreams being the slippery eels they are, I can’t remember what exactly he said that left me so inspired. It’s not that important, probably. What I refuse to forget is how kind he was, how patiently eager. A teacher equal parts challenging and warm, a perfect all-powerful arch-nemesis to my invincible inner critic. Imaginary or not, I’ll try to keep him with me.

Sometimes, but not often, my brain gives me nice things. Almost like an apology.

#personal #mental health stuff #david tennant #i also woke up with a residual scottish accent #that shit gets on everything

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problemsofabooknerd · 6 years

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My Personal Sexuality Journey

Pride Day 6!

Check out the intro to my Pride project here.

For the past few days, I have mainly been discussing books on this blog. Which is, hey, the topic of the blog so that makes sense! But today I want to get a bit more personal. I identify as a lesbian, but that has not always been the case, so today we’re going to get into the nitty gritty of my sexuality journey. It’s... long.So, I hope you’re all ready.

So, to begin with, I am not one of those “well, I’ve just always known” sort of people when it comes to being hella queer. I grew up in a hyper-religious area in Utah, and we were not exposed to a lot of queer content in any variety. My parents were always cool with The Gays, but it wasn’t a topic that was really openly discussed. I think Glee was possibly my first exposure to a visibly queer character, and that show started when I was in high school. So, basically, I didn’t have any inklings I might not be straight until college. But first, let’s go back to high school a bit.

When I was a junior in high school I managed to nab a boyfriend for about a minute and a half. The thing about being attracted to girls when you don’t really know that’s an option is that, at least in my experience, you start to assume attraction must just feel like ah, I would very much like to be friends with that person. This is probably what a crush is. I’m not saying that’s not an authentic way to crush, because I definitely think it is, but when I was young and sure of my heterosexuality, I rationalized that the desire for friendship and hanging out was actually me wanting a relationship.

I hung out with lots of guys in high school. They were cool, awkward, nerdy guys and I liked being friends with them. I also knew they liked me, so I was willing to go on dates or to dances should one of them ask.Which is how I wound up with my high school boyfriend. He was sweet, we shared a sense of humor, and I loved being around him. Shockingly, it was whenever he wanted to move past friendship activities that I felt stifled and uncomfortable. I didn’t understand what it was at the time, that fear or that resistance, but I knew that I couldn’t continue forwards in a relationship. I ended it, frustrated because I felt like I was losing a close friend rather than a romantic partner. It was a ridiculously confusing and frustrating time all around.

After high school, I went on a date with a friend’s cousin. He was what I perceived as my type, awkward and nerdy, and I knew he liked me. We went to his place after dinner and he tried to make out with me while I argued that he was missing important plot points of the first episode of Sherlock. He was shoving his tongue in my mouth and I was upset because they were dropping hints on screen that would be revealed later and oh my god when they break down the mystery at the end you are going to be so confused.

So.... that was one of the gayer situations of my gay life.

In college, I moved out of Utah and across the country to New Jersey where I attended an exceedingly queer liberal arts college. The new friends I was making were - at least I assumed at the time - the first gay people I had ever met. This later turned out to be absurd, as I’m not the only person at my high school who has since come out. But here they all were! Queer, vibrant, and proud. And I was so excited to be a part of a world where you could be who you are, even though I knew I was definitely, absolutely, without question the Straightest™ person I knew.

Cut to me meeting a girl my second day of orientation. Cut to me suddenly being thrust into a friendship a lot more intense than any other friendship I had been a part of. Cut to the end of Freshman year.

My second year, I became roommates with The Girl. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll stop being all weird and secretive. Most of you know I fell for my roommate, and that her name was Janel. But my college self, who was confused by attraction and by what the intensity of certain feelings towards people meant, had no idea.

Despite the fact that the people around me were telling me that what I was describing was clearly romantic, I didn’t want to admit to myself they might be onto something. I was even confronted a few times about how I identified at school. Here I was, this girl with short hair who was super close to her roommate. Like, we held hands. It was, um, super gay. It was super, super gay and I wouldn’t talk about it.

I knew I might want to kiss her. I also knew I didn’t want to be one of Those Girls that makes out with their queer friend and then backs out immediately.

See, because the thing was, I knew she wasn’t straight. And that added whole other levels to the situation. I knew if I kissed her she wouldn’t mind. And that was a big, open possibility that scared me right to the back of the questioning closet.

What if I kiss her and I don’t feel anything?

What if she wants to kiss me back and I hurt her?

What does it mean if I want to kiss her?

What if I kiss her and I do feel something?

Am I gay?

Am I bi?

Is it just her?

What if I hurt her what if I hurt her what if i hurt her?

That’s basically the first semester of sophomore year in a nutshell. And then, one night, things reached a tipping point of sorts. We were playing Friends trivia and drinking absolutely foul sweet tea vodka and lemonade. We were beyond drunk, and when she asked how I would feel about her kissing me, I said she should.

When I woke up the next day, I was scared. And I panicked. Because it had definitely meant something, but that meant I wasn’t straight. And I didn’t know how to deal with a self that wasn’t straight. I had no blueprint for that, so I said it didn’t mean anything. And I hurt her.

The thing is, I always take time coming to terms with things. I’m not necessarily scared of change, but I’m scared of becoming someone new. Because I don’t know that person, and I’m intimidated by people I don’t already know. I’m scared of telling others the ways I have changed, and forcing them to relearn me. It feels like a process, changing part of your identity, and that process was too big to conceptualize. So I made bad choices, I ran, and I spent a month and a half of winter break trying to decide who I was.

When I came back to school, I felt like I had a new version of myself I could live with. My personal identity, the words I used, they didn’t matter. What mattered is that I loved her, and I wanted to be with her. Thus began the portion of my life where I identified as idk I guess I’m just attracted to pretty people. I think I stole that one from Orange is the New Black, probably because that show is terrified of saying the word B-I-S-E-X-U-A-L. Shhh, don’t let the showrunners know that it’s real and out there!

After a while, I got into the bi pride side of tumblr. It vibed with me and how I felt about myself. Part of being able to accept my same gender attraction came from Korrasami - two bi girls who fell for each other in Legend of Korra. It came from reading miles of Dean Winchester is bi meta. And finally, after a few months, I was able to accept that label for myself. I had a boyfriend in high school and I thought David Tennant was pretty, which meant of course I still had to fit my relationships with men somewhere into my sexuality. I was bisexual, and I wore that word with pride.

It took a really long time to not identify as bi anymore. I mean, when I semi-came out to my grandmother I was still using the word “bisexual” to describe myself. I wouldn’t tell anyone else that word, anyone but Janel, but it felt like maybe it was a place for me to meet in the middle. To still know myself, but to know myself better. I could be the person I was, but I could also be someone new.

For a while on YouTube I was like ~undercover gay~. Like, in a “everyone knows” way but also in an “I don’t talk about it” way. My family watched my channel, and I wasn’t ready for that conversation. I adored my girlfriend, but there was still this constant underlying terror that I would hurt everyone around me if I changed again. If I told my family my identity, and it changed, I didn’t know how anyone would be able to deal with it. I didn’t know if I would be able to deal with it.

I was also terrified of the word “lesbian”, but like that’s a whole other list of internal shit I don’t want to get in to because this post is long enough as it is.

When I finally started to use the word “gay”, it felt like a step in the right direction. But it was also a tiptoe. I said it, terrified people would come out of the woodwork asking about my past relationships and interest in men. That they would confront me for thirst posting about popular tumblr dudes on my fandom blog. I whispered the word and it maybe felt right, it maybe felt like a little zing in my chest, but it also felt like leaving a part of myself behind. Maybe a part I wasn’t comfortable with and never had been, but still this definite chunk of who I had been was just no longer a part of how I was identifying myself.

And that’s fucking terrifying.

Gradually, lesbian became my word. It became a word that encapsulated why I never felt fully comfortable around men. Why I didn’t want relationships with them. It became an affirmation for the fact that I had always had an underlying attraction to women. I felt more confident when I saw Willow Rosenberg, a girl who had a boyfriend in high school, identify confidently as a lesbian in college. Because that was my story and it was ok for that to be my word. It helped me feel more confident in my attraction to women in general, and in that confidence I was able to recognize a difference in how I felt about men.

My sexuality journey was long, and it was difficult. It involved trying things that were scary, and stepping out of a self I knew to find a self I loved so much more. The confidence I found in grasping and being able to explain new parts of my identity made me happier and stronger than I had ever been in my life. Lesbian is my word. I use gay, I use queer. They are all me. But when I walked at Pride this year, it was a lesbian flag I had pinned on. Because it encapsulates me and makes me feel safe.

It makes me feel proud.

Now, real fast at the end here, a couple of notes. Bisexual was a stepping stone word for me, but that doesn’t mean it’s a stepping stone sexuality. It was a word I needed to help me figure out who I was, but that does not remotely encapsulate what being bisexual is. I have known girls who used lesbian and then knew that the word bisexual was more theirs. I have seen people who always knew that bisexual was their word. So I am in no way putting my experiencing of identifying as a person with multiple gender attraction on some kind of all-around temporary status. Bisexual peeps, your word is valid and so are you.

Also, my word doesn’t mean I eliminate trans folks. The word lesbian includes trans women, and I’m not here to have an asinine argument with anyone about that. Just putting it out there.

This was a long one, but sexuality is so goddamn difficult and it took years for me to start to learn about myself. And I’m still learning. Maybe I’ll find a new word someday that fits like a glove, and that will be scary but it will also be okay. And if you don’t have your word yet, and maybe you don’t want a word, that’s okay too. The most important thing is finding a way to be happy with yourself, whatever way you choose to package it. It’s about doing research, trying scary things, and maybe feeling like you can find a way to know yourself a little better one day at a time.

Alright, that’s where I am going to wrap up. Thanks so much for reading about my messy process of self discovery, and feel free to share your own stories too - in a reblog or a message. You are all beautiful and your experience is valuable. I’m just here to share a little bit of mine.

#pride #pride 2018 #coming out #lesbian #queer #lgbtqia+#about me #my post

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denimbex1986 · 5 months

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'If you’ve been a Doctor Who fan for a while then you for sure weren’t looking forward to saying goodbye to David Tennant‘s version of the character yet again. The first time was a gut punch and the end of an era with showrunner Russell T Davies departing as well. What followed has been decidedly mixed with great Doctors (Matt Smith, Peter Capaldi, and Jodie Whittaker) and uneven creative direction. It’s to the point that Davies’ return as showrunner (to the show that he rebooted 18 years ago) feels like a rescue mission designed to excite the fan base.

Bringing Tennant back for three special episodes (the last of which aired Saturday) was surely phase 1 of that plan, but it came with some risk, specifically that the audience would predictably fall in love with Tennant again and want him to stay, creating a potential barrier for the incoming Doctor, Ncuti Gatwa (Sex Education, Barbie). In the wake of Saturday’s episode, “The Giggles,” those worries have mostly disappeared thanks to a bold move that messes with over 60 years of established continuity.

Big, explodey, and emotional regenerations are out, bi-generations are in, allowing Time Lords to branch off from one another as opposed to having to essentially die so the other can live. The ultimate 2-for-1 deal. A little confused? Us too. A little miffed at the continuity shakeup? No. To hell with tradition. It’s a 60-year-old TV show. Old words are for politicians and Sunday school teachers to cling to. Everyone else should enjoy a good resorting from time to time.

But what does it all mean? The bi-generation makes a lot of things possible, from a narrative standpoint. Most obviously, there’s the possibility that Tennant’s legendary run as The Doctor may not actually be over. He’s just off in the garden having a wonderful time being happy and surrounded by his best friend Donna Noble (Catherine Tate) and her family while Gatwa’s Doctor draws all focus while skipping across time and space. But what if he needs a hand? Or what if Tennant’s Doctor takes his TARDIS out for a spin of his own, falling into familiar trouble in the occasional special episode that’s divorced from the show’s main story?

It’s not just Tennant. Smith, Capaldi, Whittaker – they could all make an appearance, theoretically, because according to Davies, the bi-generation wasn’t just about Gatwa’s 15th Doctor and Tennant’s latest iteration of the character.

From an episode commentary recorded by Davies and reported on by The Radio Times, Davies is saying, essentially, every single past regeneration has been retroactively made into a bi-generation:

“I think all of the Doctors came back to life with their individual TARDISes, the gift of the Toymaker, and they’re all out there travelling round in what I’m calling a Doctor verse.

“Sylvester McCoy woke up in a drawer, in a morgue, in San Francisco… and Jon Pertwee woke up on the floor of the laboratory,” he says.

This is absolutely chaotic and I love it. I’ll say this, though, while Davies opened the seal with this one and while it gave Tennant’s Doctor a wonderful ending rooted in the idea that every once in a while a warrior gets to claim a reward and some peace, I do wonder if he will someday be called back into battle to help close that seal and forfeit that reward. That would be very Doctor Who. It would also acknowledge the blessing and curse of the Time Lord’s lifespan. It’s something that was conveniently explained away the last time Tennant’s Doctor (or a version of) got such a reward with the mortal half-human/half-time lord version living in another universe with Rose Tyler. But this Doctor can’t spend the rest of his lifetime being happy in the garden with Donna. He can only do it for the rest of her lifetime, if that.

While the bi-generation and Davies’ tease hints at the possibility of bigger adventures and returning favorites, it may not qualify as the most important moment from the episode. Before we discuss that, though, can we just take a moment to talk about the energy, light, and confidence coming off of Ncuti Gatwa as The Doctor? So commanding right from the start. Remember when Tennant’s Doctor burst into existence after Christopher Eccleston’s Doctor regenerated? How he had to have a lie down in his bathrobe. Gatwa’s Doctor is ready to roll out of the box and a breath of fresh air. I can’t wait to see what he does within this wild sandbox Davies has constructed.

Alright, the most important moment of the episode was the hug between Gatwa and Tennant. After the bi-generation and the defeat of The Toymaker, Tennant’s Doctor is filled with grief over the lives lost and his role in inadvertently inspiring The Toymaker’s appearance. But Gatwa stops the spiral, grabs him, locks eyes (like Tennant did with Tate in the previous episode to reassure her), and tries to free him from all this burden. It’s a beautiful moment, but also symbolic for what may be on the horizon week to week.

I don’t want to make it like Doctor Who didn’t operate from a place of grief and worry about the impact of his actions during Davies’ run. There was a certain haunted quality to both Eccleston and Tennant’s portrayals over all the devastation and carnage they had seen, but Steven Moffat, who took the showrunner baton after Davies left, leaned into it a bit more, focusing on The Doctor’s identity and the hard choices he had to make to save existence, even while destroying his own people. It was a lot to wrestle with. A lot of angst and sadness (with some joy too), which is referred to in the specials when Donna checks in on what The Doctor has been up to for 15 years. And so it was nice that someone offered him absolution while at the same time, creating a clean slate for Davies to remake the show (again) with Gatwa’s Doctor being somewhat lighter without all that weight on him. The regenerated Doctor has always been new, but this Doctor is newer than new, it seems, and we are here for it and everything else Davies has planned with or without a few extra Time Lords from time to time.'

#Doctor Who #60th Anniversary #David Tennant #Ncuti Gatwa #Catherine Tate #Donna Noble #The Giggle #Russell T. Davies #Bi-generation #Matt Smith #Peter Capaldi #Jodie Whittaker #Sex Education #Barbie #Sylvester McCoy #Jon Pertwee #Christopher Eccleston

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themadvigilantist · 6 years

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just a 5:53 AM thought...

i have very detailed dreams, i giffed one so, here’s another one. without much editing

i had a dream that me and cale/anders/whatever/horse hoe was friends and then we grew and by we i mean i just wore business dresses and occasionally heels and he was just david tennant. apparently, in this dream, i was a dominatrix with had an abusive husband whose reason of being abusive to me because he was jealous of: me making fun of cale by making horse puns, jokes, and ‘kill me’ innuendos that made cale’s voice crack and then i end staring at him in concern and wtf when he do that and before i can comment he’s just like “stop it. just stop. no, stop. don’t.” and that almost makes burst into laughter and that i didn’t do that with him and we only see each other for like once a year on a random month. because i know cale’s a killer and i basically just judge on ‘why the hell you choosing them when im literally here willing to like have normal schedule only if you whip me, i will rip your cock right off.’ that was my winning argument every time cale would bring that up. it was highly effective.

also i was a history nerd (i heard him say it to me. to my face) because im not obsessed with horses like he is and cale only tells me this because i show him that his methods of “correction” and “breaking mares in” is literally the same devices used for enslavement (cage, marks on the back, the collar, the fucking gag choices and shit but i also knew that his horse trainer actually thought this was for horses and that this was how to break in a horse and he didn’t know she was raised by racists horse ranchers that brainwashed her into thinking this was for horses and they didn’t fuck with me because cale was with me like glue to paper (yes i made that pun too and he laughed). and looked like damien from the omen. that helped a lot. then i would-- i tell him to get new equipment. and to give me my whip and gag chair back because every once in a while i have a client that wants to use the whip or be strapped down... apparently those belonged to me, i was shocked i even had that amount of money. and it’s my dream and im shocked.

so we move to portland and my husband was angry because he saw cale in a new car (nevermind the fact that he didn’t know that was a new identity) and i got all these marks on my back and my inner forearms and one branding circle thing on inner upper thigh. but i wear nice coats and cale didn’t know about him being abusive to me (because i never take off my coat/jacket/shawl i went through a lot of costume changes and i hated it)

and so automatically i was like im gonna go hang out with my pal cale. because like every horse centric soap opera, i gal paled myself to someone who surrounded themselves with horse themed decor. but fancier? at this point the movie kicks in and sean sees we friends and he starts stalking me.

so cale calls me and say meet him cabin woods nightime? the gist of it really. don’t get followed and i get in my car and i bring a bag of sweets and sex equipment. mainly squishable food that don’t squish when it should. i don’t question the logic of my dreams, i just roll with them and hope it doesn’t end with me having sex and seeing a fucking dragon. the dragon was my car, i didn’t notice until i remembered. my husband mad because im hanging out with one person instead of a group...

so sean atttempts to follow me, at night, with his orange car. he got a new car and its that ugly orange. he loves ugly orange car. and im driving and then i turn all the lights/headlights off and drive my car off the edge of the mountain path thing. the winding road and it turns out i jumped out of car, surprisingly clean and sean falco is freaking out as he watches the car crash and explode and parked his car so he properly get out, watch and hear the car tumble down the hill to explode while acting like a sim seeing fire in their home...so i run barefoot with heels in one hand, bag full of food and things, and still in my pretty coat and run all the way until i find where cale at in the dark. i keep running until i get to the porch, the snow and grass and twigs does nothing to my feet and stockings because “the cold never bothered me anyway”. cale asks if i was followed and i calmly straighten myself out and said no, i brought food and better collars and shit. and the main girl is still in her cage and im just like: “another one? really?”

and then we chill on the couch and i would tell him: why her? is it the hair? is it because you thought she was gwen conliffe or rita vrataski and then when you saw her face you just went “the garbage will do”? And then he would avoid the question by saying how I found him and then i answered that my husband saw you and then i told him that he was one that introduced us to each other and thought he “perfect” and then i told cale that i’m going to kill him. i blew up my own car and now im gonna kill him. its time he needs to go. and cale is like: oh i want to see that. and then i tell i packed an overnight bag and i might need a ride home tomorrow. and cale’s like: why did you blow up your car you fucking dumbass? and i went: so i won’t be followed, coal bitch.. and then that banter went on and eventually i start flirt and said something along: “why don’t you kill me hm? hmmm?” and then i literally just stroke my neck slowly and he watches with both “stop with the jokes.” and “don’t tempt me” in his eyes and then he noticed my arms and saw random marks and was going to ask what happened and i drank some wine and just said: im going to kill my husband. tomorrow. wanna watch? and then he asked if the husband was the one who did this and i said, yep. so then he said sure. despite the fact that sean falco is still looking for him and now me. also my pajamas were dominatrix clothes, specifically the one that angelina jolie wore in mr. and mrs. smith. cale wasn’t blind and said: “what are you wearing that for?” and i said: “these are my jammies.” and he went: “no.” and then gave me a oversized sweater and some shorts and guided me back into the bathroom. [my work clothes were actually footsie pajamas and i was a dominatrix. my work place was literally the same dominatrix room you see in shows and films but instead of them wearing leather, they’re wearing nice, fluffy, footsie pajamas. doing the exact same thing. but in cute pajamas. it was a great trade off.] the next day or i assume it is and im rightfully peeved i couldn’t sleep in my “jammies” but apparently the only sane one in the dream was cale.

and then we went to my husband’s house and sean falco was there looking smug and my faceless husband told me that he knew that cale was bad and then monologued and i just kind of went and sat down and cale went to sit down beside me and then the husband started choking and seizuring and then died in front of a now terrified and bewildered sean. cale went: “that was quick” and i went: he poisoned himself with his own cereal

and then i went and called the cereal company and they offered those small boxes of cereal as condolence gifts and i bought one because cale and sean were like: nah we’re good/alright

and then the rest of the movie played out and i hear about cale caught by the fbi and somehow, i bail him out of jail with bail money. and then we basically just chilled out until i woke up.

and i typed all this because i can’t gif it like the last one.

summary: don’t watch/gif bad samaritan repetitively. please.

#ooc #mv: longpost #bad samaritan (2018)#{no it's a dream i had that lingered just like the hamilton dream one}#{instead of hamilton it's bad samaritan}#august 2018

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