I want only two things in life, people to find me adorable and people to find me terrifying.
(Source: dkyubey)
I will honestly be surprised if no one else has thought of this before.
This tho
omg.
i can’t.
So this just happened on my facebook feed… May the Fourth be with you, everybody!
so because everybody’s raising a fuss about “the name of the doctor” i think i’mma chip in my two cents without a readmore
my problem is that i feel as though revealing his name would take something fundamental away from the character of the doctor
i dont know if i can describe it, really
but the reason i don’t want to know has nothing to do with steven moffat or matt smith or the eleventh doctor or any of the current goings-on of the show
just, the idea of EVER finding out the doctor’s real name, under ANY circumstances, just does NOT sit right with me
i wouldnt want rtd doing it, i wouldn’t want moffat doing it, i wouldn’t want the ceo of the bbc to do it, i wouldn’t want jrr tolkein or jk rowling doing it, or the queen of england, or beyonce, or tom baker, or even albus fucking dumbledore ok
shit, i wouldn’t even want to know if you could somehow gather every single actor who ever has or ever will play the doctor and have them announce it all together
i feel like telling us the doctor’s real name just… is something that should never ever happen
the only circumstance i’d ever be okay with learning the doctor’s real name is if it is the very last word he ever ever speaks in the very very last episode of the show EVER, when he’s out of regenerations and about to actually die. and even then, i’m not 100% sure i wanna know.
elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey:
OH god I ship this so hard but the relationship would suck because she could only speak and move when he wasn’t looking… But he would trust her enough to turn his back OH GOD THE FEELS SOMEONE FIC THIS
This is adorable.
When he walked into the room, it was too quiet and too dark. Quickly, he pulled out his sonic screw driver and started to turn in a circle in order to scan for any life in the room. As he was spinning, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.
Something still.
Something with wings.
Something hiding its face.
The Doctor knew he only had milliseconds before the Weeping Angel would reach him and feed off of his time energy. Wielding his sonic screwdriver, The Doctor spun to face the angel. however, what he saw when he faced the angel almost caused him to blink…almost.
Instead of clawed hands and a snarling face, The Weeping Angel was reaching out towards The Doctor with a longing expression on her stony face. Even though her face was illuminated by the blue light from the sonic screw driver The Doctor recognized her features any where. Leaning in too examine her pained face The Doctor only managed to whisper, “Rose?”
Even though she couldn’t answer with him looking at her, The Doctor knew it was his Rose. She had the same curved lips, the same round face, the same nose that he always touched when she sassed him. “Rose Tyler, what happened to you?”
The Doctor knew that if he wanted an answer, he’d have to close his eyes.
“I’m trusting you, Rose. Please. please still be my Rose.”
Slowly, The Doctor closed his eyes and as soon as he was left in the darkness he felt his chest tighten and a cold hand placed itself on his cheek.
“Doctor,” she spoke as soft as the petal of the flower she was named for, “My Doctor, oh how I’ve missed you so.”
NOOOOOO
Thanks for the mini-fic, Satan.
NO THAT HURTS NO STAHP IT
Am I the only one that thinks this says Moffat if you look at it in the mirror?
Both Jenna and Time Lord Matt Smith said they tried to avoid going online too much and did not use Twitter.
Matt said: “I spend so much time on my phone and I find the idea that you communicate your life via Twitter quite peculiar so it doesn’t really interest me. “It is not up my street, I am not on Facebook either, I just cant be bothered.”
Jenna added: “I am the same it is just about trying to keep off the internet really.”
so do you guys remember the night and the doctor minisodes
specifically the one called “good night” where the doctor asked amy to recall her saddest memory and she remembered dropping an ice cream at the carnival, and amy was sort of like “that can’t be my saddest memory no way that after all the things i’ve been through my saddest memory is something so small”
i guess the message of that is kind of like, if there’s a lot of strange things going on around you, or if you’re small and in a big place that can be kinda overwhelming, or whatnot, some tiny little thing can go wrong and it feels so overwhelmingly, crushingly sad
and to an observer, like grown up amy looking back at the memory, it might seem like, really trivial and insignificant and it would seem unreasonable to be that damn sad about something like dropping an ice cream at a carnival
but to amy at the carnival in 1994 it was the saddest damn thing and it made her cry
and it stuck out as her saddest memory, amy pond, who never had parents but always had parents, who went through twelve years and four psychiatrists waiting for the raggedy man in the blue box who answered her prayer to santa, who screamed and cried and fought to hold onto the love of her life as a crack in the universe erased him from existence, who watched her husband die so many times, and watched her best friend die and had to hide it from his past self
who was held hostage, forced into a false body, came back to her real body terrified and in labor, and then had her baby stolen from her, only to find out later that she can never have children again
amy pond, the girl who waited through incalculable sadness, recalls the saddest memory of her life
and it’s dropping an ice cream at a carnival in 1994
because it doesn’t matter how small a thing it is
what matters is that it hurt, and that when it hurt, it hurt so badly that it brought the world down around you
personal example from today!! i’ve felt horrible for most of the day today. i’ve been thinking about how my mental health recovery seems to have stalled, how disappointed i am in myself for not being able to move forward with it, how i can’t see a future for myself where i eventually become the person i aspire to be
how every possible future i see for myself is made of long and tiring cycles of being successful and productive and motivated and responsible for a while, and then just when i think i’ve got it all together and i’ve got the person i want to become in my grasp, everything unravels and i spiral back down into a horrible depression and have to fight my way back up again and deal with the shame of coming close to my goal and losing it all when it was perfectly in my reach
i’ve spent most of today stewing in doubt and disappointment, being sad and frustrated with myself
and what was the thing that finally made me cry, and feel like all the hope in the world had been sucked into a black hole?
i stubbed my toe on the door as i was walking out of my room
and suddenly i knew exactly what that night and the doctor minisode was all about
the fact that the source of the pain seems utterly trivial isn’t what matters
what matters is that it hurt
and you have a right to feel that pain, no matter how trivial the source might seem
