there’s a rule about taking Doctor Who seriously and it’s that to take it seriously you need to not take it too seriously
this show doesn’t take itself seriously, no matter how dark it might get at times
this isn’t some fucking gritty Edgelord show, this is a show watched by millions of children about hope and belief and trying to help people even when it seems hopeless and even when it doesn’t work, we should never hope that anyone in it stays dead, especially not anyone that represents so much for so many
above all we should never as older fans want anything for it that would take away from the enjoyment of the younger fans
you can’t treat it the same way you would a lot of other shows. its demographic is anyone who is willing to believe in it, anyone of any age.
this is a show about an idiot in a magical box who fixes things with a screwdriver and a belief in the goodness of people
an idiot who gets into ridiculous situations that are often also dire, who saves the day always but only uses violence as a last resort, who tries to win with words and cleverness first
over the last few years it’s been one of the only shows on television still trying to tell a hopeful story in a world obsessed with Edgy Cynical Realism, while never shying away from how harsh the universe can be
it is a show about possibility where almost any thing or person or story that can be imagined could be plausible (hello, people being killed by plastic inflatable chairs, a small box being infinitely huge on the inside, a lesbian being saved by her magical star girlfriend)
it is a show created by lifelong fans, it is a constant love letter to itself with stupid little in jokes and nostalgic trips, and above all it is a message and lesson of hope and kindness
take it or leave it but that is what it will or at least should always be
Summary: Prompt: ‘I’m a superhero and you’re my arch nemesis but we don’t know each other’s identities and we’re actually best friends’
You’re best friends with Bucky,
although you know him as James Ranier. He’s your best friend, too, but
he has no idea you’re actually Shade, a woman who plagues the reformed
Winter Soldier’s life as his arch nemesis.
You faint from blood loss in the Avengers compound and the heroes themselves have to decide what to do with you. Gabe’s life and your own hinges on their decision.
“I’m not invincible. I can be killed. Chop off my head, stab me,
shoot me a few times? Dead as a doornail. I’m immune to disease, though,
so that’s nice I guess,” you said, swaying slightly where you stood.
Was the room getting wavy or was that just you? “I suppose I could bleed
out, too,” you said faintly, falling to your knees. Black spots swam in
your vision and you silently cursed your body.
information on Shadow. USB in purse will prove it. Help my brother, I’ll
get you the rest,” you hissed, your right hand clutching at your left
shoulder- you couldn’t feel it.
You remembered looking down at
your shoulder. It was red. Very red. You also remembered voices, though
you couldn’t make out the words.
“Please,” you said. Or at least, you meant to. You couldn’t tell if you got the words out.
Then, everything went black.
Bucky watched as you collapsed on the kitchen floor, shirt half red with your own blood. Steve immediately checked on you while Nat went to your purse, fishing through it until she pulled out the USB you’d mentioned. Sam was calling the med ward, warning them that Steve was bringing you to them and that you’d been shot and lost a lot of blood.
Bucky couldn’t move. He didn’t know what to do.
You were supposed to be normal. Well, maybe not normal. You’d always been extraordinary but you were supposed to be a civilian.
You made him feel normal… like he wasn’t an ex-assassin turned hero. When he was around you he simply felt like a man. A good man, even.
The betrayal stung his lungs. He found it hard to breathe. He wanted to help (Y/N). Get her to the med ward and sit by her side until she came to, but he wanted to drag Shade to an interrogation room and work Shadow’s innermost dealings from her mind.
His two lives had come together in the worst possible way and it had left Bucky in a free fall, unable to process the events.
there’s something really poetic and narratively satisfying, to me, about the seventh doctor - the chessmaster, the great manipulator, always three steps ahead and behind so many webs and layers of deception its hard to tell if any of them was actually real (and naturally they didn’t know either - dying not as the culmination of some great scheme, but a stupid, tragic, meaningless accident. complete and utter coincidence and a cause so mundane they never even considered it, and yet that’s what killed them.
the other option of course is that they did plan it, in a last desperate effort to escape the trap theyd accidentally laid for themself - to pull themself off the slip-and-slide path to becoming a god again - but that one’s darker.