I’ve Seen A Lot Of Posts About Az Being Controlled By The Metatron But I Don’t Buy It. 

I really deeply appreciate the storytelling craft that has gone into ensuring that David Tennant is the Doctor forever, and can appear at any time without requiring weird timeline shenanigans. This is fan service, yes, but I'm certain the #1 fan this is servicing is in fact David Tennant.

Something making me sad this lovely evening is that while Aziraphale had carved out a little niche neighbourhood with people around who he knows and interacts with on a regular basis, Crowley has Aziraphale, his car, his plants and… Shax. That’s it.

Crowley doesn’t have anyone he can consider friends. Demons can’t be friends, he said as much in season 1. And then Aziraphale’s constant “we’re not friends, we hardly know each other” overlaid on that and the observation that the humans all pass so quickly in S2.

The motif of loneliness is such a big thing underpinning the whole series - Aziraphale’s fear of the loneliness if he only goes along with Heaven as far as he can, Crowley’s admission that it is lonely to be the only one doing that, Crowley’s observation that Muriel must be lonely in Heaven, the simple fact that Gabriel and Beelzebub sought each other out so much and became everything to each other.

My little hope for S2 is that Crowley will have more than just Aziraphale. I want him to find other friends. I want Muriel to befriend him and him to find the joy he once had again in humanity. 

At the end of S1, he was so gleeful about how clever humans were and he seems to have lost some of that now that he and Aziraphale have both been recalibrating to this new version of their existence. Let him have a friend. Let him find that glee in the weird wonderfulness of humanity. Let’s see him smiling and cackling and doing silly things again.

Above all, let us see him gluing coins to the pavement with Muriel trying to Thwart him and him giggling himself silly over it.

The wine is called Demons & Angels (a bit too sharp in the tannins department, but nothing critical). The dried apricots were produced by the limited liability company called "Master". Is the universe trying to tell me something, or what?

Part 3 Voyage of the Damned

Just the sheer matter-of-factness of this. So beautiful. Raw and honest. It's a rare gift to write them like that. Love it.

(Not a shipper, I said? Well...)

Thoschei kiss without a motive :O

(hands to u my first writing of the morning) have some weird little guys

He’s getting used to breathing again.

Funny thing about coming back from the dead in a body that resists it, that would rather burn than focus on the beating of its own hearts: it was hard to remember he needed air. Hunger came much easier.

This body is alive now. A little radiation can be good for you, under the right circumstances. Even better with a taste of fate derailed and a glimpse of the Doctor’s wide-eyed shock, as if he was the only one who got to break the rules of time.

Hunger lingers. Hunger transforms. He’s growing restless inside the TARDIS’s walls. Not a prisoner — the Doctor has never been able to keep what he loves in a cage, always sets it free and doesn’t dare hope it loves him enough to return. Not free — where would he go? And besides, the Doctor can barely fly the TARDIS on his own. What if he went and crashed into a moon and forgot to regenerate because the whole ordeal was so humiliating? The Master can’t leave him.

The Doctor can’t look at him, most days. Others, he can’t look away. He’s bad for conversation whether he’s guilty or enraptured.

So the Master takes up sneaking into his room while he’s asleep. The Doctor would at least lock his door if he didn’t want it to happen, not that any lock would keep the Master out for long. The Doctor sleeps in awkward bursts, a familiar pattern that he’s never grown out of and the Master has always had to deal with. At least he manages to get into his own bed these days before passing out.

The Master perches over him. He watches the Doctor breathe and matches him. He doesn’t make a sound.

He’s bold enough to touch when the Doctor is deeply unconscious. He slides a hand over the Doctor’s chest and feels one heart, then the other, so slow and peaceful. Not like the humans he plays around with their jabbering single heartbeats, too fast and too loud.

He raises his hand to the Doctor’s throat. He likes this body’s neck. His hand fits so well around it. It would have been a shame to let the Doctor regenerate into someone that the Master’s hands might not belong on. His lazy pulse beats below the Master’s fingers, and his breaths echo from the Master’s own lips.

Up again, to his mouth, to feel the air pass back and forth.

He doesn’t think. He takes.

The Doctor’s mouth is slack and warm.

And then, his hand is in the Master’s hair before he can react, keeping him still and close.

When he’s allowed to pull back, the Doctor is watching him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t panic, as comfortable as before. The Master wonders how many times the Doctor’s been playing at sleep to lure him in.

“I thought you came in here to kill me, the first time,” the Doctor says calmly. “I prefer this.”

Normally I'm not into Human AUs, but this one definitely made me reconsider. A delicious take, intriguing and (unconventionally, thrown-off-balance but somehow still) perfectly in-character.

high school tensimm au except they’re both unbearable losers.

ten is a science geek that spends 23 hours a day in a laboratory, sucks at every subject that isn’t a scientific one but somehow manages to pass the classes, teachers and students hate him because he’s just always raising his hand to say shit and sometimes he doesn’t even do that, he just says stuff out loud when someone else is supposed to answer AND ITS NOT EVEN ALWAYS CORRECT. he chainsmokes cigarettes when he’s working, he wears glasses even though he doesn’t need them because he thinks they give him a hot look but he looks even more nerdy than before, he wears a suit to school and cmon who does that?! yet somehow all the girls seem to fall for him, at least to flirt and kiss him, just to get dumped after the first month of dating.

the master is just the rich petty kid you have in your class that somehow manages to get good grades even if he’s subtly insulting the teachers in their faces, there is no subject he’s not good at. he looks down on people for dressing badly (although he mostly wears a black sweatshirt to school too), he thinks his family name opens the door to everything in his life, he tries to do everything to get extra credits, he insults people who aren’t good at subjects he redeems as “easy”. he fucks people when he’s bored, he drinks alcohol right after school and calls it a “pre-party” for the evening, he likes the feeling of getting beat up, he has a thing for trying to make pathetic older men submit to him.

and together they just make the most insufferable couple. they spend a day literally sucking each other’s face off in class and then the next day they avoid each other like the plague - just to make out against a wall in the garden at the end of the school day both with a black eye and a few more scars. they skip classes together and fuck in the janitors closet, they smoke in the bathroom and blame other kids if the alarm goes off, the master sometimes puts ounces of vodka in the doctor’s water bottle so he microdoses for like two weeks before the master takes it off and leaves him feeling odd for a month, the master seems completely aware of the doctor’s past stories with other girls but makes comments that have people thinking he’s going to murder them soon, the doctor once went on a full hour rant at a party about how he is the only one the master will ever need and he’ll fix him up by curing him and making him a sane person with his infinite care (and then threw up on the ground). they’re just silly.

We drifted here, in the lack-of-light, passing no-time. But we would feel it from so far away... your noisy, boiling universe. We want to travel there, to play your vicious games and win.

Wild Blue Yonder

Who would have thought unscrupulous could be so hot? I've got a feeling that a proper rewatch is long overdue.

so I've started watching blackpool and became slightly obsessed with Peter Carlisle

i made some gifs from episodes 1 and 2:

my skruncle<3

the infamous eating scenes

he's so me there.

i honeslty don't know how to classify those

and finally, HE WAS INSANE FOR THIS

Don't get me wrong, but Spies Of Warsaw was THE handsomest DT ever looked (before the 60th specials, that is). And un-fucking-believably dashing, too. And a healthy dose of whump never hurts (as opposed to clumsy puns). Rewatch is due.

This DT edit is my Roman empire

HANDS. And a well made point about the distinction between the TV and Film BAFTAs. But mostly HANDS.

This proves my point......

I need to make a comment(ary) about this ABSOLUTELY LOVELY photo.

One of David's promo shots for the BAFTAS

Okay, so here's the comment(ary).

I want you to take notice of DT's hands - his thumbs, knuckles, and loooooong fingers (as if you hadn't already, I know, but I'm just making sure!)

I say this because those hands are so uniquely his, especially the way he bends his thumbs...the length from the tip of his thumb to the first knuckle, specifically. Hell, all the joints of his thumbs. Most people don't have that length between their joints. Nor do they usually bend BOTH those joints, as DT does. I bring this up because in my analysis of the obscure short film One-Eyed Jacques - and specifically about whether or not David was in this film, and why I think he was, and my evidence for why I think he was - this photo highlights the "uniquely weird DT hands and fingers that help us recognize him even when we can't see his face." Because in that film, his fingers are the only things we see! So thank you, BAFTAs, for providing me with wonderful photographic evidence supporting my theory. And oh, yes.... Before all of this blows up with regards to "OMG David's never been nominated and how dare they ask him to host!" - keep in mind the BAFTA film awards they've asked him to host are separate from their TV awards. David's films have notoriously been so-so, so it's no surprise he hasn't been nominated for any of them. It would be sillier if they'd asked him to present the BAFTAs for television, since it is his TV projects (like Broadchurch, Des, and Litvinenko) that really should’ve been nominated.