i love how the doctor is always at awe at humans

Fig chatter! (Q/A)
First off, i just wanna say thank you so much to everyone for all the super nice and encouraging notes! It always makes me to happy to see that my work is making people happy and your notes really help to motivate me to do my best at this comic!

Yep!!! That manga is one of my favorite things in the whole world so it really really influenced my comic.


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you are not:
  • a burden: there’s a bucket of reasons why you should not feel like one. perhaps you’re overthinking, worried, or feeling down. but don’t ever feel like you’re being such a burden. you are part of the population. you are important. without you, this world would lose the opportunity to be changed in your own simple ways. you are necessary. you are loved and it’s okay to be your own priority.
  • a disappointment: you’re not! i’m proud of wherever you are right now. im proud of your progress; no matter how enormous or minute it might be. if you failed your test, it’s okay. if you didn’t win the competition, it’s alright. im pretty sure you did your best and it’s that part that will always matter. don’t let other people’s “what a shame” bring you down. YOU. ARE. NOT. A. SHAME. you are blooming in your own simple ways. and I am proud and happy for you. continue growing, aspiring, believing in yourself. i’m proud of you.
  • a weirdo: most definitely never a weirdo! if you like doing things that are quite different, that does not make you a weirdo. that makes you special and even more precious. it was such a perfect combination of atoms and dna that led to a beautiful creature that is you and oh dear god, you’re amazing. your way of thinking is creative and the way you do things is totally out of this world. you are beyond the things earthly. you are meant for greater things. and you are most definitely not a weirdo.
  • ugly: whoever said you were, should most definitely need to get their eyes checked. when was the last time they went to the eye doctor anyway? if there’s anything that i’d like to be, it is to be as beautiful and as bright as you, a total human version of sunshine. your eyes light up like a ray of sunlight, your lips are perfectly carved like cherries, and your noise is huge or small and it’s cute. most definitely cute like a button. and the world should be in awe every time you wake up.
  • not good enough: you are good enough. you should feel good enough. if somebody’s making you feel like you’re not, then that only means he does not deserve you, the brightest star light in the universe. you deserve to feel loved. your strength and your smiles make this world a better place. you are good enough: always have been, forever will be.
  • alone: i’m here for you, your dogs are there for you. your cats are waiting for you. your pets will always be at your back, giving sweet and soft head bumps to make you feel loved. your music playlist is there for you to blast when you’re feeling a tinsy bit down. you are never ever alone. we’re constantly caring, loving, and waiting for you. please stop frowning and crying, you are loved.
  • stupid: you are, as a matter of fact, really really intelligent and even smart! perhaps you’re having difficulty in understanding your math or chemistry lessons, but that’s part of the process! at least you’re learning. i’m pretty sure some people will not be able to understand it just like you. but that doesn’t equal to being stupid. you’re just learning. continue to crave for knowledge and continue to make your curiosity work. you are not stupid.
  • annoying: you are never annoying! just keep on talking if you feel like sharing the entire story of your life. if you want to hit me up, that’s perfectly fine too. you haven’t even said anything to make me feel uncomfortable. people would love to hear you out, to befriend you, to be part of your social bubble. no you’re not being extra annoying, friendliness does not equal to being annoying. honestly, just keep on doing you. if that’s what makes you feel happy, then you’re doing fine.

stileswithderek  asked:

"i’m scared of the dentist so i brought my best friend along for support but they’ve been flirting with the dentist for the past fifteen minutes and now i’m third wheeling at my own dentist appointment’ au" Please? :)

May I present hot dentist Derek and shameless flirter Stiles! (also on ao3!)

“Dude, c’mon. Stop being such a freakin’ baby,” Stiles instructed loftily as he plopped down into one of the waiting room’s uncomfortable plastic chairs, crossing his legs to rest his ankle on his opposite knee, trying to get as comfy as he could on the hard blue plastic seat. He plucked a magazine at random from off the veritable mountain of tabloid spreads and old newspapers on the long coffee table in the center of the room, thumbing through it until he found some interesting pictures along with an article about lions.

Scott groaned low in his throat and begrudgingly took a seat beside him, pouting like a petulant little child as he folded his arms over his chest and stared down at the black and white tiled floor that looked like it had come right out of a 1980’s kitchen. Stiles nudged Scott’s arm with his elbow, flashing his friend a bolstering smile as he told him, “It’s just the dentist, relax. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Scott didn’t seem to appreciate the advice, sending Stiles a pathetic attempt at a glare that was supposed to be scathing but in reality just made him look more constipated than a Chihuahua. Apparently, Scott took his dental hygiene very seriously and while he had been going to Hale Dentistry ever since he was a little kid, same as Stiles, he had been anxious for his appointment since he was informed that his usual dentist would not be in and another doctor would be covering the checkup.

So, being the amazing, wonderful, out of this world best friend slash pretty much brother, that Stiles was, when he found out that Scott was worried about his appointment, he volunteered to go along with him. For moral support, of course.

It certainly wasn’t because his dad was trying some new diet that was beyond disgusting and was invented solely to torment Stiles’ taste buds, the Sheriff insisting that his only son stick to said hellish diet to show solidarity. Yup, it had nothing to do with the fact that he was hoping to stop by McDonald’s and Taco Bell on his way home. Nada.

Stiles had at first just thought that Scott was a little cagey because of the disruption to his routine, never a huge fan of change, thinking that his buddy was just a little nervous about meeting the new doctor that would have their fingers all up in his mouth. But that wasn’t the case. Scott was genuinely anxious, jumping from one worst case scenario to the next, one minute talking about how the new doctor might accidentally chip his tooth and the next talking about how he hoped the new doctor didn’t smell bad.

Stiles had a feeling that he was experiencing what it was like for other people when he inevitably wound up rambling on and on about something or another. He would have to bake his dad an appreciation cake. A low-fat, dairy-free appreciation cake, of course.

With his usual comforting tactics not working, namely self-deprecating humor and poor attempts at levity, Stiles decided to go the way of quiet comfort, gently patting Scott’s arm and giving him lots of thumbs up and encouraging smiles until the receptionist called them back to the exam room. Stiles hopped up out of his seat, feeling a bit fidgety and restless and extremely unfocused since he had forgotten his Adderall that morning. Scott much more reluctant to get back to his feet.

They followed the pretty nurse, who wore a nametag pinned to her orange fox patterned scrubs that identified her as Kira, into the exam room, Stiles thanking her while Scott continued to sulk like a kid who had just let go of his balloon. While Scott got situated in the exam seat, Stiles sunk down into a nice cushiony chair by the door, tugging his phone out of his pocket to check Pokemon Go, having been addicted since they added Gen Two.

He managed to catch two Jigglypuffs and a Cyndiquil before the doctor came in the room, making Stiles’ jaw nearly drop. Because doctors, especially not dentists, should be allowed to be that hot. Once someone achieved that level of hotness they should be promoted to Calvin Klein models or porn stars, preferably gay porn stars.

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anonymous asked:

Dr Who but each incarnation is swapped with one of their companions.

omg?? I love it??

The First Doctor: 

She’s not completely unfriendly, exactly, she just doesn’t have time for humans being idiots. In the right circumstances, she can actually be very warm. She loves history, which is lucky because her granddaughter Susan does too (they tell people Susan is her daughter, but even then it’s a bit of a stretch, human ages are weird). Of course, then two of Susan’s teachers follow her home one night, and next thing the Doctor knows she has a crotchety old history teacher and a handsome young science teacher on her spaceship with no way to get rid of them that isn’t morally questionable. 

Whoops? 

The humans help her lose some of her haughtiness. She leaves Susan in the 22nd century to become her own woman. 

Along the way and against her better judgement, she falls hopelessly for Ian Chesterton. He wants to stay with her forever, but she knows it would never work, and encourages him to go with John Foreman in the Dalek Time Machine to get back to his own time. 

Later, in other lives, she checks in on him occasionally. 

The Second Doctor:

The baby face is a problem. It takes a good twenty minutes on a lot of occasions to get anyone to take her seriously. On the bright side, a lot of Polly’s clothes fit her now. 

She finds a best friend in Scotsman Jamie McCrimmon, whose rather naive approach to futuristic technology is extremely refreshing, as is his unique insightfulness. 

After Ben and Polly leave them, they rescue Victoria, who Jamie is utterly taken with. Victoria is unsure about living a life so unsupervised by someone older and won’t listen to the Doctor’s insistence that she is in fact perfectly qualified to look after them all. 

She and Victoria spend a good many nights aboard the TARDIS talking about women’s history and the things to come for women in the future and how women act on other planets. Victoria is fascinated, occasionally horrified, and often quietly thrilled at the things she learns. 

It’s a shame to see her go, but all she ever wanted was a family and security, and the Doctor can’t provide that. 

They meet an eccentric man on a space station, with funny trousers and an obsession with the recorder. The Doctor and Jamie like him instantly, and invite him on board only to learn that the man had been considering stowing away if not invited. 

The Time Lords take her friends away from her. She is forced to regenerate and exiled to Earth, as punishment for her interference. 

The Third Doctor: 

Shrewd, passionately devoted to science, and not one to take kindly to interruptions or anyone trying to talk down to or even disagree with her, it’s a wonder the Doctor even gets hired by UNIT at all. But then again, beggars can’t be choosers. 

On the bright side, this fellow John Smith from Cambridge seems to be the one person around with an actual brain and not just a penchant for attacking first and thinking later. 

They’re friends instantly. Or, they are once she makes it perfectly clear that she is the cleverer of the two. The look on his face when he realises is a memory she’ll treasure forever. 

He eventually leaves to go back to his own research, upon realising she doesn’t need him. 

It’s a shame and she misses him, but then Jo Grant comes into her life. Despite an awful first impression, the two women are soon fiercely devoted to each other. Jo keeps going on about women having to stick together amongst all the army boys, and while the Doctor could usually not care less about gender politics, if it means Jo hangs around her more, then so be it. 

The Master turns up. It’s exhausting and exasperating and oh so much fun

Meanwhile, the Doctor’s told herself to not let herself fall for humans, after how much Ian hurt. But with Jo, it’s impossible not to. (Not that she hasn’t noticed the Brigadier’s lingering stares, or failed to appreciate him in his uniform. But he’s far too professional to ever do anything, and too trigger happy besides.) 

Jo is like sunshine and she’s always there and smiling and pressing herself against the Doctor out of fear or shock, until one day they’re in the supply closet of a spaceship and they’re kissing furiously instead of listening out for their pursuers. 

It’s wonderful, being with Jo. Until Clive Jones comes along, and the Doctor has to tell her to forget about her and marry the nice young man who can grow old with her and give her the life she wants. 

She drinks more champagne than she is proud of that night. 

Luckily, along comes Sarah Jane Smith, who is exactly the kind of human that the Doctor automatically adores. Inquisitive, sharp, and a vocal feminist. What a woman. 

Of course, then giant alien spiders happen, and it’s time for a change.  

The Fourth Doctor:

Or… not. Apparently, she’s doomed to be young, attractive, humanoid, and pale skinned throughout all her lives. There are worse fates, but she wouldn’t mind a little variety, frankly. And being so small is getting infuriating. 

Harry takes a long while to take her seriously, but once he does, he is steadfastly loyal. Sarah Jane takes the regeneration in stride for the most part. 

And after them, Leela, who is so strange and savage but so utterly charming in her honesty. They share a few kisses, but nothing more. 

Then comes Romana. A young Time Lord who looks older than her, is far taller than is sensible, and has an even more absurd grin. She can’t stand him, with his bragging about his grades and thinking he knows everything. 

She soon teaches him that experience wins every time. 

Of course, then he spots some pretty princess on Tara, and next thing she knows, the moment the whole Key To Time mess is sorted, Romana is now a less taller, less ridiculous, utterly beautiful Time Lady in her first regeneration. 

She tries to argue against what she can only consider body theft, or at least copying, but it is a relief to not have to crane her neck up to speak to her companion. 

Romana becomes a most dear friend. She’s missed being around someone like her, someone who understands. It makes it all the worse when she leaves, leaving the Doctor with only Adric and his incessant questions. 

The Fifth Doctor: 

There’s something about this body, a regality, that commands a little more respect than the ones before it, despite it following the pattern of her others. 

Adric’s questions exasperate her, while Tegan’s demands to be taken home are met with gentle requests for patience and promises of Heathrow airport, and this Traken prince she’s picked up is thankfully one of the most polite people she’s ever had in the TARDIS. Decent brain on him, too. 

Tegan’s smile sometimes makes her stomach do backflips. The Doctor ignores it. She’s learned her lesson. It’s almost a relief to see Tegan reach her breaking point and leave, except it isn’t, because for a long while it feels like a part of her is missing. 

Turlough is a curiosity, but a nice one who makes for surprisingly good company in the absence of the others. 

Perpugilliam Brown is a surprise. The Doctor remembers why she has tried to avoid America where possible in her travels. Americans are loud. But in the case of Peri, it involves shouting at the Master, and as such, the Doctor decides that Perpugilliam Brown can stay as long as she likes. 

Between the two of them and soon Erimem, uncrowned Pharaoh of Egypt, they make quite the team.  


The Sixth Doctor:

It’s about time! Finally, a more weathered model. Peri is surprised to say the least, and seems a little disappointed to lose out on her best friend who had until now looked a very similar age to her, but soon realises very little has changed. 

And now she lets the Doctor take care of her a bit better. Thank goodness for that! The maternal instincts in this body are absurdly strong, she has no idea what she would do if she couldn’t express them. 

Now, the borderline narcissistic but quietly lovable history professor she accidentally picks up some time after losing Peri is a trickier matter. Still, at least he shares her love for chocolate cake. 

The Seventh Doctor: 

Bright, bubbly, and able to get most people to like her within ten seconds. Now this is a regeneration she likes. Plus, her most impressive set of lungs yet. Handy, for calling companions who like to wander off. 

She tries to not encourage Ace’s use of explosives, but it’s difficult when she sees how genuinely happy they make the girl. She’s getting soft in her old age, she knows. 

Still, at least her brain makes up for it. She can out-think a computer, easily. The universe is her chessboard and she’ll do whatever the hell she pleases with it. 

The Eighth Doctor: 

She’s a jolly thing. Always keen for adventure, ready to shout at anyone who deserves it, and just wants to have a good time, really. 

After a rather rocky start involving amnesia and kissing the cardiologist who had caused her regeneration in the first place, the Doctor is just minding her own business when she accidentally messes with history. 

It seems that saving this stowaway on the R101 might not have been the best idea after all. But he’s so charming and sweet and genuine, sharing her utter passion for life, that by the time she realises her mistake, she’s not willing to part with him. 

That goes… about as well as one might expect. 

The Ninth Doctor: 

It’s funny, being a weathered old war veteran with a guilty conscience, and simultaneously looking like someone who could be on the front of a magazine. 

Life is hard, after the time war, but she meets a man with big ears and blue eyes and things get better. A lot better. It feels good to smile again. 

The addition of Captain Jack Harkness is an interesting one, but she’s always said the more the merrier. Their other companion is not quite as happy about this development, but before long they’re the best of friends. 

The Tenth Doctor: 

She’s gentler now, somehow. Oh, she has her anger and her snark, and boy does this body have a set of lungs on her. But she’s so much softer, underneath. 

Losing her friends from her last body takes its toll. She at least manages to avoid comparing Martha to them that came before her. Martha is wonderful, always completing even the most impossible tasks that the Doctor puts to her. They part on good terms, after the Master’s ravaging of the Earth. (The Master had not been so impressed with this version of her. He had trouble seeing the strength within, seeing that she was more than the duality of compassion and shouting.) Martha needs to look after her family, and that’s probably for the best. 

And then there’s the skinny idiot in the suit. He actually talks faster than she does, which is absurd, but she wonders if that’s simply because of his questionable family. Perhaps not letting them get a word in is how he survives. 

Either way, they get along like a house on fire. Losing him, wiping his memory and seeing him stare right through her and smile that stupid smile, is almost enough to break her. 

No more companions, she swears. 


The Eleventh Doctor: 

It’s all about fun, now. Impressing the little boy whose garden she crashes in and then impressing him when he’s grown up and has waited 14 years for her. (To hell with her rule about no more companions. Her old self was full of dumb ideas anyway.) 

Oh yes, she likes Rory Williams a lot. And his best friend John isn’t bad either. Mind you, that nose… 

She has her spaceship, and her boys, and life is good. Well, there’s River Song to worry about, but she can never be sure if the archaeologist is more interested in her or John. Just one more mystery, it seems. 

Losing Rory, and then John, is hard. But she knows that they’re happy, and that’s enough. 

The Twelfth Doctor:

Short, bossy, a control freak, and a slight obsession with tartan. Also, her English teacher companion is secretly a rock star wannabe, disguised as a reclusive Scottish nerd. 

What’s a girl to do? 

(Apparently, find out that her best enemy is alive, and now also female. And Scottish like her companion. The first kiss had been… shocking to say the least. The ones after, against her better judgement, decidedly less so.) 

She cares about her companion more than she will ever say, and when faced with losing him, takes things too far. Further than anyone should ever take anything. And when it is all said and done… she can’t remember his face, or his voice, or how he sounded when he mocked how large her eyes were. 

River is there to comfort her, though, in those 24 years on Darillium. 

And then Bill. Brilliant Bill. Oh yes, they make quite the team. And Nardole helps sometimes too. 

Send me an AU and I’ll expand on it! 

anonymous asked:

Hey do you have any really funny fic you could suggest? I just read 'A week is only seven days' and I was crying it was so funny. I want more!

Hi Nonny!! OH GOD this has been in my drafts for MONTHS and I’m sorry for the delay. I’m guessing you found that fic on my “Go-To Johnlock Fic Rec List”, and it’s totally worth a read since it’s like, one of my all-time fave fics!! I don’t have many fics with the same type of humour, but I hope that a few of these will appease you! They’re more fluffy than anything else, but if I had a chuckle in them, then they will be here :)


  • High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, Ao3) (7,429 w.) - John is stupidly obsessed with Sherlock, Sherlock is adorably clueless, and they’re both dumb idiots. Jealous John and silly misunderstandings.
  • Well Begun Is Half Done by Avice (E, Ao3) (3,897 w.) - Sherlock conveniently finds reasons to try to touch John’s junk. John’s tired of waiting.
  • The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, Ao3) (44,025 w.) - Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants for a case. There are some angsty bits in this, but I did giggle at a few scenes.
  • Life and Death by patemalah21 (K+, ff) (6K+) - Sherlock and John get mugged and injured. The first chapter is angsty, but the second and third chapters, Sherlock has to deal with his worst nemesis yet – a nurse intent on him getting better. *SLIGHT* Sher1011ie in the third chapter, but it feels more BFF’s.
  • You’re a Doctor, Fix me by edken (G, Ao3) (8,342 w.) - Sherlock gets sick and stroppy, John grins and bears it to fix him, and a fluffy happy ending.
  • How to Court Your Blogger by PipMer (K+, ff) (3,124 w.) - Sherlock Tries to court John on significant days in their life. Too bad John is a little bit slow on the draw.
  • Sibling Rivalry Or Fighting Over John Watson by Jessa7 (K+, ffnet) (8,085w.) - Mycroft is suddenly taking an interest in John and Sherlock is not happy. John just goes with it – he’s getting a lot of nice things out of this deal. (*NOT JOHNCROFT, just Mycroft being a meddler).
  • The Devil You Know by PipMer (T, ff) (9K+ w.) - Mycroft flirts with John. Sherlock gets jealous. John’s just along for the ride. Yeah, I also REALLY like Mycroft purposely riling up Sherlock to force him to confess his feelings for John. Another “meddling Mycroft” fic… I seriously love this trope.
  • Cigarettes and Shampoo by laura0506 (K+, ff) (783 w) - John and Sherlock get kicked out of a grocery store. Sherlock has a big mouth.
  • Cabbies by OldBesinaStuff (K, ff) (572 w) - Sherlock expounds and illuminates upon the subject of their current cabbies.
  • The Care and Keeping of Your Mad Genius by Janieshi (T, ff) (4K+ w.) - Lestrade and John tease Sherlock after the pool incident.
  • Just Admit It by LoyalNerdWP (K+, ff) (2K+) - Sherlock goes home for Christmas and is missing John. One of my faves, it’s more sweet than funny.
  • The Newlywed Game: Johnlock Edition by patternofdefiance (E, Ao3) (9,020 w.) - Sherlock and John pretend they’re a couple “for a case”. They’re shocked to discover how much they know about each other. One of my faves.
  • Happy Birthday John by Starlight05 (K+, ff) (1K+ w.) - Sherlock goes shopping for a present for John. 
  • Not Rocket Science by Nitrospira (K+, ff) (2K+ w.) - The boys are handcuffed to a bed while investigating a double homicide on the International Space Station. It’s been awhile since I read this but I remember liking it :D
  • Out on da pull by I-O-U-a-picture (T, ff) (1K+w.) - John can never pull a date, especially with a flatmate like Sherlock.
  • I’m Pretty Sure This Changes Shit by cwb (E, Ao3) (7,672 w.) - This one is really ridiculously silly. Sherlock keeps injuring himself so John will fix him up. John catches on, and it changes shit.
  • Because Blah Blah Blah Happy by cwb  (E, Ao3) (4,578 w.) - Sherlock sets out to make John happy. Happy happy happy.
  • Carry On by Mazarin221b (M, Ao3) (4,647 w.) - Five times John didn’t want to be carried, and one time he did.
  • Equine Arse Anonymity by Kayjaykayme (E, Ao3) (3,834 w.) - Sherlock needs to speak with suspects at a fancy dress ball. He chooses a couple’s costume for himself and John. It is logical, practical and well thought out. John doesn’t agree and exacts sweet revenge.
  • An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, Ao3) (31,059 w.) - Sherlock is a bat. No other explanation needed.
  • and yes I said yes I will Yes by Mithen (T, Ao3) (1,662 w.) - Sherlock has deduced that John is going to propose to him, and he’s ready to accept. If only John would actually get around to it…
  • The Trouble With Being Subtle. by VictoryCandescence  (NR, Ao3) (5,429 w.) - In which Sherlock experiments, John misinterprets, and everyone else stands back and waits for the light to turn on.
  • The Detective and the Pin-Up by XistentialAngst (T, Ao3) (15,683 w.) - Sally Donovan discovers an old secret John Watson considered long buried - a ten-year old “Men of the Armed Forces” calendar, which has John as a very enticing pin-up for August. The image of John might just change the way everyone sees the unassuming sidekick, even Sherlock Holmes.
  • John’s Drawers by JezebelGoldstone (T, Ao3) (2,646 w.) - Sherlock snoops through John’s drawers and finds something… unexpected.
  • In Which John is a BAMFy MoFo, OMG! by Kantayra (T, Ao3) (1,835 w.) - John’s BAMFness and Sherlock’s damsel-in-distress act are caught forever on camera. So Scotland Yard can mock. A lot.
  • Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, Ao3) (47,709 w.) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results. {{NOTE: Because I always forget: ‘The One With the Shampoo, Steph.’}}
  • Goodness Gives Extras by mydwynter (E, Ao3) (39,629 w.) - Christmas time. ‘Tis the season to settle down with a drink, some food and a present or two, and to enjoy the quiet relaxation of the holiday. Instead, there’s a case that drags them all over, missing presents, disappointed kids, angry parents, and a freak snowfall. On top of that John has to deal with Sherlock, who is being even more of a prat than usual. He really shouldn’t have expected anything different.
  • You Can Imagine the Christmas Dinners by ardenteurophile (T, Ao3) (23,584 w.) - Sherlock takes John along for Christmas dinner with Mycroft and Mummy (And “Anthea”, too). Over the course of the evening, John realises that everyone in the room - apart from him - seems to think that he and Sherlock are a couple.
  • You Can Imagine The Christmas Dinners by johnsarmylady (T, ff)(1K+ w.) - Set the morning after a Study in Pink, John sits and contemplates Mycroft’s words. John’s imagination sometimes goes a little wild.
  • Abhorring the Dull Routine of Existence by ardenteurophile (T, ff) (7K+ w.) - Or, a Week Spent on Artificial Stimulants. Sherlock overdoses on Red Bull, much to John’s dismay. Spin-off fic set before the events of “You Can Imagine the Christmas Dinners”.
  • The Real Meaning of Idioms by feverishsea (T, Ao3) (21,691 w.) - After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn’t expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.
  • To Sleep, Perchance to Smother Your Flatmate with a Pillow by Linpatootie (G, Ao3) (5,308 w.) - Sherlock wants to conduct a sleep study of sorts. John contemplates smothering him with a pillow. Part 1 of Two Coffees One Black One with Sugar Please (this whole series is amazing, and I love it so much).
  • The Second Law of Thermodynamics by entanglednow (T, Ao3) (3,614) - In which there’s no heating and there’s a dead owl in Sherlock’s bed. Part 1 of Thermodynamics (this whole series is really great, I love it!)
  • Vaporized by Catslynw (K, ff) (1K+ w.) - This little number is set soon after A Study in Pink. John has just moved into 221b and is getting to know his flatmate, and his flatmate’s amazing abilities, a little better.
  • Denial Isn’t Just a River in Egypt by satanatemycat (T, ff) (2K+ w.) - In which John makes a bet with a co-worker. If he wins, she shuts up about him and Sherlock being a couple. If he loses… well, that doesn’t matter, because he won’t lose. Because he and Sherlock ARE NOT a couple. Right?
  • The Video Footage by bitchinblackframedglasses (K, ff) (1K+ w.) - What exactly DID Lestrade film Sherlock doing in A Scandal in Belgravia? Sherlock wants to know, and John tells him. Fluff.
  • At Least Make It Interesting by amythedork (K, ff) (2K+ w.) - "You’ve reached Sherlock Holmes. For the love of God, if you’re going to leave a message, at least make it an interesting one. If this is Mycroft, then piss off.“ / A series of voicemails John left Sherlock throughout their time together. 
  • Manipulation by sixbynine (K, ff) (2+K w.) - John Watson is not as unobservant as Sherlock thinks, nor is he above using what he knows. Even if it is just to make sure Sherlock eats and sleeps.
  • Bored Games by SparksMayFly (K, ff) (3K+ w.) - Sherlock asks if he can take Reverend Green in for interrogation. John explains that’s not how the game works. 
  • Bored Games by patster223 (K+, ff) (2k+ w.) - Sherlock is bored and John decides that they should play Cluedo. In retrospect, it was a truly awful decision.
  • Three Ways Sherlock Conformed to His Stereotype by Jennistar1 (K+, ff) (1K+ w.) - "It’s a hat.” / Urge to roll eyes, quashed. “Yes. I can see that.” / “It’s called a deerstalker.”
  • Tipsy by katkin (K+, ff) (2K+ w.)  “I love everyone in this room,” he announced proudly.“I know you do, buddy,” John replied “Which is why you’re going to clean this carpet in the morning. Because you’re a good friend.” “I am a good friend!” Sherlock agreed.
  • Cards by Caighlee (K+, ff) (1K+ w.) - Sherlock has been without a case for a few days and Molly’s suggested experiment - something with a pig head (ew) - is losing it’s appeal. Can John come up with something that’ll distract Sherlock for a bit longer? And how did John pull off that card trick? Sherlock’ll never know because a magician never tells a secret. Except maybe when faced with a smiling Consulting Detective.
  • Never Have I Ever by Hannelore-Grace (T, ff) (2K+) - In which the Yarders, Sherlock, and John play the time-honored drinking game.
  • Surety by hudders (G, Ao3) (2,477 w.) - Sherlock is pissed because it seems that four pints of larger, two shots of tequila and a glass of wine has resulted in Lestrade becoming a little bit too friendly with everyone. And by everyone, Sherlock really means John.
  • Never Have I Ever by hudders-and-hiddles (E, Ao3) (10,655 w.) - John and Sherlock tag along for the Met’s weekly night out, where the evening’s chosen drinking game is Never Have I Ever. Sherlock is reluctant to join in until he realizes he can learn all kinds of new things about John, but he forgets that John might learn a thing or two about him as well.
  • Cabin Fever by A Wandering Minstrel (K+, ff) (6K+ w.) - A massive storm keeps John trapped in Baker Street with a half-blind (for science!), very bored Sherlock Holmes.
  • Spilt Milk by Erin Giles (K+, ff) (2K+ w.) - John comes back from a trip to the supermarket only to take a trip up the stairs. Both shopping and blood are spilled leaving Sherlock to play the role of Doctor.
  • God Save The Queen by Alice Day (K+, ff) (1K+ w.) - Sherlock has a new case. John is petrified. The Queen is amused.
  • Tidying Up by mattsloved1 (K+, ff) (951w.) – John comes home to a thoroughly cleaned flat. Or so it seems.

Feel free to add your own ficlets and self promos!! I love all the funny fics!

Unexpected Guest - pt. 1

This is based off a dream I had the other night, and decided to write out. Nothing special or exciting, just a fun, fluffy story. And now that I’m officially posting the first part, I’m dedicating myself to finishing the rest.

3,123 word(s) of fun and fluffy buildup. No warnings.  Leonard x Reader


You shimmered onto a familiar patch of grass. The warm breeze blew your hair gently around your face, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You opened your eyes slowly and stood there for a moment and stared at the quaint farmhouse your parents had given to you, with your bag slung over your shoulder, smiling ear to ear.

The Enterprise had just finished another mission and had come back for supplies and repairs, granting the crew a weeks leave. You had jumped at the opportunity to come home. It had been far too long since you’d been back.

Keep reading

Six Times Voltage Inc Tugged at my Heartstrings

I’ve been playing Voltage games for about four years now, and I have to say, there were moments in certain routes that made me Feel Things™. Generally, Voltage games aren’t really known for being cynical or overly emotional. Heck, their games, while having some mature content, mostly have an optimistic feel to them. However, there were some moments in particular that stood out to me—those scenes were written powerfully enough to shake me to the core.

I have to admit, it was difficult for me to select a few moments from hundreds of routes, but I tried my best to narrow it down as much as I could.

Disclaimer:

  • I limited it to one character per game to avoid repetition.
  • I haven’t played every Voltage game (or route for that matter). The moments I’ve chosen only come from the games I’ve played.
  • I didn’t include SLBP because I only started getting into it recently (plus I don’t know too much about the other lords to make solid conclusions about them lmao).
  • This is all my personal opinion, so that means you probably won’t share the same views as I do, which is cool (I’d actually appreciate it if you told me what your favorite moments were :D).

Anyhow, let’s begin! (long post below):


Keep reading

A Wild Night in Vegas -- Part 11

This chapter happened a lot faster than @outlandishchridhe and I anticipated. It’s a lot of fun! We’re loving where this story is going!

Catch up on the previous chapter HERE or find the whole story HERE


Fraser Bairn Watch: Month 5

Exhausted, Claire opened the apartment door and took a deep breath. Amongst the aromas of food cooking, she thought she smelled something fainter, sweeter. Eyes springing open, she locked her eyes on the vase and saw five fresh roses in it.

“Welcome home, Sassenach,” Jamie called from the kitchen.

Grinning, she walked in and kissed him.

“Thank you for the roses, Jamie. They’re lovely.”

“Five roses for five months gone. Only a few left for me to thank ye for carrying our bairn.”

Leaning on him this way, she was acutely aware of her rounding stomach as it pressed against Jamie’s.

“You’re welcome,” she said before pulling away from him.

They ate their dinner at the table and, for once, nothing made her sick. Before they went to bed, she did a little homework at her desk, though she couldn’t sit as close to it as she used to.

Tomorrow was to be their 20 week ultrasound and Claire had been waiting for this day for weeks. They’d finally be able to see the baby look, well, more like a baby.

“You know, we can find out tomorrow if this little one is a boy or a girl.”

“I dinna want to find out,” he said, turning a page in his book.

Her mouth fell open as she stared at him. It took a minute before he realized what she was doing.

“But I want to know the sex of the baby!”

“Weel, I dinna want to know. Don’t ye want to be surprised?”

“I think this baby was a surprise enough, Jamie. Don’t you want to get prepared?”

“Sassenach, people have been having bairns for centuries without knowing what they are and they seemed to do just fine getting ready.”

“Why can’t I just find out and you not? You can still be surprised then.”

Jamie fixed her with a flat look and closed his book with a sigh.

“Sassenach, have ye ever seen yerself try to keep a secret? I love ye, but yer face canna keep a secret from me. If you find out, ye won’t be able to keep it from showing all over your face.” He reached out and stroked her cheek and she leaned into him instinctively.

The pleading look on his face made Claire’s resolve waiver. She really did want to know, but finding out together would mean much more than having to carry it around with her for the next few months by herself.

“Oh, alright you bloody Scot. We won’t find out until this little peanut decides to make its debut,” she huffed, placing her hand on her belly.

Jamie twined their fingers together, resting over her wee bump. She suppressed flinching away from it and when she finally looked up at him, she saw that heartbreaking smile spread across his face as his hand moved theirs back and forth over her stomach.

“I love ye, mo nighean donn. I ken it makes ye a little disappointed,” he started, but was halted by her rising up on tiptoe to give him a peck on the lips that, as always, turned into something a little deeper.

“Compromise, right?” she whispered. “You and I have done a lot of it so far. It won’t kill me and at least I’ll know that you’re suffering right along with me.” She laughed, a soft, tinkling sound that Jamie loved. He lived for that laugh, the smile making her whole face crinkle in happiness.

He rested his head against hers for a moment, basking in the warmth of her smile. Leaning in, he kissed her softly, letting his hands wander over her. After he squeezed her arse, he began to pull her closer. But she pulled back and took a breath.

“Are ye alright, mo chridhe?”

“Yes, I’m… I’m alright. I’m a little tired though, could we maybe just snuggle a bit tonight?”

Watching her face for a moment, he thought he understood why she was hesitating. Her stomach was getting larger by the day and it made her uncomfortable.

“Ye dinna have to get naked, Sassenach. Leave yer shirt on, it doesna matter to me.”

She gave him a weak smile before pulling out of his arms.

“That’s alright. Perhaps another time.”

Leaning over the side of the couch, she gave his cheek a light peck and left to change for bed. When he joined her, he saw she wore the nightgown she’d been favoring lately. It covered her and gave her body little shape, which was likely what she wanted it to do.

As she lay on her side, the sheets tucked up around her, he gently eased in behind her, careful to not fully cup the wee swell of her belly. Instead, he opted for reaching for her hand, entwining their fingers together..

“Sassenach?”

“Hmm?”

“Ye ken I love ye, right?”

“Of course I do.”

He nodded, taking a moment before continuing.

“And ye ken I think yer beautiful, right?”

“I… yes, I do.”

“And that I dinna think yer fat or ugly? That seeing ye carry my child is the most amazing blessing ye could ever give me?”

She paused before answering, and gently brought their hands down to rest near her stomach.

“Yes, Jamie. I do. I’m sorry, I really am just tired tonight.”

“Aye, it’s fine, mo nighean donn. I just want ye to ken that I love ye verra much.”

She turned around, searching for a kiss.

“I love you, too, Jamie. So much.”

###

Sitting in the waiting room with so many pregnant women felt strange, but Claire was comfortable. He held her hand, his thumb rubbing the back of hers constantly. A door opened and the nurse called them back. He was excited for this, to see their child again. The last time it hadn’t looked like much more than a fuzzy blur on the screen. Claire had assured him it would look more like an actual human being now. His little human being.

Claire sat on the exam table fidgeting nervously. Jamie put a hand on her knee to keep her leg from bouncing.

“Alright Miss Beauchamp, how are we feeling today?” the nurse asked.

“Very well, thank you.”

They launched into the barrage of questions he couldn’t answer, so he just waited. As the ultrasound machine booted up, the nurse smiled at them.

“So are we going to learn the sex of your baby today?”

Claire shot him a dark glare before turning back to the kind woman.

“No. We’d like it to be a surprise, apparently.”

The nurse laughed at the scorned look on Claire’s face and patted her hand.

“Alright then, I won’t tell you,” she continued to chuckle and looked at Jamie as if to wish him luck with the decision they made.

Then she stage whispered to Claire, “The doctor will know, you know, just in case you decide to change your mind.”

Claire finally broke a real smile and sighed, looking back at Jamie again.

“No, no. I’ll wait,” she said, grinning at Jamie.

Hearing the heartbeat of their child never ceased to enchant them. Each little lub-dub brought tears to both their eyes. Blinking them back, Jamie tried to clear his vision. He wanted to see their wee bairn completely, wanted to commit this moment to his memory forever, and he didn’t want the memory to be blurry.

“Here’s your baby!” the nurse exclaimed, pointing out the head, feet and bottom of their baby.

“He looks like a wee person now,” Jamie said softly, staring in awe at the black and white screen. “I can actually see which end is his head now.”

Claire swatted at him playfully and giggled at his awestruck face.

“Well it’s a good thing that you didn’t want to know the sex of your baby, Miss Beauchamp, because this little one isn’t showing me anything! Turned away and legs crossed. This one is going to be a stubborn one for sure,” he joked as Claire chuckled.

“Well between her father and I, I’m not really surprised by that assessment.”

“He’s protectin’ his virtue is all. I wouldna want my baws splayed all over a screen for anyone to look at either,” Jamie said, seriousness coloring his tone but smiling nonetheless.

“Would you both like a printout to take with you?” the nurse asked, cleaning the gel off of Claire’s belly. As soon as it was clean, Jamie noticed she pulled the shirt she had on down as fast as she could.

“Can we have a couple please? Maybe 3?” Claire turned to look at him. “I thought maybe we could frame one and I know you like to keep one at work.”

“Aye, mo chridhe, whatever you wish.”

She grinned and reached for him, pulling him down to kiss her soundly.

###

“Jamie?” Claire asked, softly.

He turned his head away from the ultrasound picture to her, the sound of her voice alarming him.

“What is it, Sassenach? Are ye feelin’ alright? Ye look… concerned.”

She took a deep breath and met his gaze.

“I think we need to talk about something.”

He raised his eyebrow at her and she continued, trying to keep eye contact with him.

“I was wondering… well… at the ultrasound today, the nurse called me ‘Miss Beauchamp’ and it got me thinking. I was wondering if… if you wanted to stay married. To me.” She kept her eyes on his, and saw his face mask over. The last time they had talked about this, she had brushed him off. She didn’t want to do that now..

“We haven’t really talked about it and…” she trailed off, unable to finish her thought, too scared of what might come from this to be the one to go first.

He held her gaze, but didn’t answer. Several tense moments passed between them, but his lips stayed sealed shut. He simply looked at her and she knew that she would have to be the one to break the silence. She reached into her bag and pulled something small out of it.

“Because,” she started hoarsely. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Because I… I want to stay married to you.”

She opened her palm and in it was a titanium band. She was staring hard at the band in her hands, not risking looking up at Jamie. A finger under her chin lifted her face to his; he was much closer than before. His face had a broad smile across it right before he leaned in and took her lips against his.

“Wait right here, mo graidh,” he whispered against her lips.

He got up and made a beeline for their bedroom and returned almost as quickly as he left, a small box in his hand. When he opened it, Claire gasped.

“I bought this for ye, before we left for Colorado. I thought,” he paused, voice breaking just slightly. “I thought ye might make a choice then, but then, weel…then ye didna. But I kept it anyway, if only for the chance that I might be able to woo ye properly if we decided to go another way.”

He took the small ring out, a solid band with thistle and interlace overlay on top of the solid metal.

“Oh, Jamie,” she sighed. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Will ye wear it?”

“Will you wear yours?”

He smiled at the glint in her eyes, the need to mark him showing strong on her face.

“Aye, I’ll wear it and gladly. I’m completely under yer power and happy to be there, Claire.”

“I am too,” she breathed. “I wouldn’t change it. I don’t want to change it.”

“Well that’s good to hear, Sassenach. Perhaps, as we dinna really remember our own vows, we could do a wee thing now?”

Taking her left hand in his own, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it softly. He took a deep breath and prepared to slide the ring onto her finger. The light caught the inside and glinted, hinting that something was inside it.

“Wait, what’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“Inside the ring. Is it engraved?”

Her eyes darted up to his and his ears turned a little pink.

“Oh, ah… Aye. It’s Gaelic, ken?”

Turning the ring slowly, she tried to read the foreign language.

“What does it say?”

“Mo graidh, mo chridhe fuil.”

“And what does that mean? For those of us who don’t speak Gaelic?”

“It means ‘my love, my heart’s blood’.”

The smile on her face grew as she stared at it for a long moment.

“I, um… I had something put into yours too…”

Taking the larger ring from her hand, he turned it to the light.

“My knight,” he said softly. “The keeper of my heart. Claire, that’s beautiful.”

“So,” she cleared her throat before she broke out into tears again. “Did you have something in mind for our sober vows?”

“Aye, it’s an old Scottish tradition, if ye dinna mind it.”

“I don’t mind.”

He stared down at her hand for a moment before sliding the ring onto it slowly. She did the same with his, pleased that the ring fit him well.

“You’ll have to repeat the words after me. They’re in Gaelic.”

“Alright.”

Claire stumbled over the foreign words, her lips and tongue making the unfamiliar sounds. But he could see in her face just how hard she was concentrating to say them correctly. Or, as correctly as she could.

When she finished repeating him, he leaned in to kiss her gently.

“So,” she asked, searching his face. “What exactly did I just commit to? What did I say?”

“It rhymes a bit, in English. But what we said was ‘ye are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give ye my body, that we two might be one. I give ye my spirit, ‘til our life shall be done.”

“I think I like that better than regular vows.”

His eyes moved down to her rounding belly, but he made no move to touch it. She could see the longing in his eyes, but he didn’t reach out toward her. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead before standing up and holding out a hand to her. On some level, she wanted to grab his hand and put it on her belly. But she couldn’t. Not yet.

Once again, Jamie proved to her that he wasn’t like any other man. As much as he wanted to feel their child, to touch her and hold her, he would never force that on her. He recognized and understood that she was uncomfortable with the changes in her body. She also understood that he wasn’t asking her to talk about it either; just let her feel what she was feeling.

###

She was dressed in the nightgown again, but he said nothing about it. He had no right to, it wasn’t his body that was changing. All he could do was give her the space she needed and support her however he could.

When she snuggled close to him, he did all he could to keep from touching her belly. It took her some time to fall asleep, constantly moving around to find a comfortable position.

They lay in bed, Claire sleeping soundly in his arms. He looked down at her stomach, bulging a little through the night dress. If he touched the bairn now, she wouldn’t know, wouldn’t shy away from him. But it wouldn’t be fair to her. Perhaps she didn’t want his touch right now, what right did he have to force that on her unconscious body?

Then she did something that surprised him. Still completely asleep, she took his hand and placed it on her stomach. He froze in place, afraid she’d wake and find him touching her and be angry. Carefully, he tried to slip his hand away from her, but her grip tightened. She mumbled incoherently, sleepily patting his hand on her stomach and snuggling closer, a look of complete contentment covering her face. The stern lines that had been carved in her brow as she tried to get comfortable and fell asleep melted away as she nuzzled against him even closer.

He looked down at her, careful not to jar her and moved slowly to kiss the top of her head. She mumbled again, her grip on his hand slacking, but he didn’t move it. He couldn’t. He was so happy to feel her and the bairn, feel close to them both like this, that he would steal the moments that she gave him.

###

Claire woke suddenly, feeling a ravenous hunger surge through her. These damned cravings would kill her one of these days.

“Jamie,” she said softly, nudging him awake. “Jamie?”

His eyes opened slowly.

“…’s the bairn…”

“We’re both fine, but…”

One eye snapped fully open.

“Do ye need hot wings again?”

She shook her head, a guilty look crossing her face.

“No, I just… Doesn’t chili sound really good?”

“Canna say it does just at the moment.”

Biting her bottom lip, she looked up at him.

“I could kill for some chili right now…”

With a sigh, he started pushing himself up.

“Alright. I’ll go and see if someone’s open and selling chili.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Ye dinna have to do that, Sassenach. I’m pleased to fetch ye chili if ye wish.”

Swinging her legs out of bed, she fumbled in the dark for something to put on her feet and a sweater.

“No, I’d like to come. I feel terrible, sending you out at odd hours like my personal servant.”

“Are ye sure?”

“Yes,” she said with a nod. “And this way I won’t be eating it in our bed. Won’t be finding bits of nachos in our sheets for the next week.”

“Ye make a verra fine point, Sassenach. Let’s go, then.”

Luckily, the chili wasn’t as difficult to find as the hot wings had been. They had her small bowl of chili within fifteen minutes.

“You know what else sounds good?” she asked as Jamie pulled out of the parking lot.

“Ye mean besides sleep?”

“Ice cream.”

“I didna ken pregnancy would give a woman such strange tastes.”

“Do you think we can find someone who does ice cream all night?”

“The place we just left does.”

Licking the spoon, she looked over to him sheepishly.

“I’ll split it with you.”

“No, no. I’ll no’ take any of it. I canna really eat at three in the morning.”

Making a U-turn, he pulled back into the drive through and ordered one chocolate frosty for his pregnant wife. The young man at the window gave them an odd look, which Jamie ignored.

“Thank you,” she said quietly as they headed home.

“I put ye in this position, gettin’ ye wi’ child and all. The least I can do is feed whatever bizarre cravings our bairn has.”

She grinned as she finished her strange combination of chili and ice cream.

###

The following afternoon, Jamie was sitting on the couch doing a little reading while Claire worked on some things for her classes. Just as he stretched, he glanced over to her and saw her flinch hard. She stared down at her belly in complete shock, her hand almost went to touch it, but stopped. He looked away from her before she could see him watching. Wondering what had caught her so off guard, he forced his attention back to his book, but continued to glance at her under hooded eyelids.

That night, they lay curled up together as they usually did. Once she settled and fell into deep sleep, she moved his hand onto her stomach. It was the only time she was comfortable having him touch her and he cherished the feeling. As he began relaxing into sleep, he thought he felt something. A faint flutter against his hand made his eyes snap open. Surely it was too soon to feel the bairn move.

With bated breath, he waited to see if it would happen again. When it didn’t, he was sure he’d imagined the feeling. He felt Claire softly push his hand against her, burrowing farther into his neck and pulling him with her down into their dreams.

###

Claire woke up in the morning snuggled warmly into Jamie’s side. She didn’t want to disturb him, she’d done enough of that the night before. Slowly, her eyes drank in her sleeping husband’s face.

Husband, he was her husband.

He had been since that first night together, of course, but now that they’d made the decision to stay together and married to boot, that word felt so important. She glanced down at his hand and saw the ring that marked him as hers. She smiled, but inside her emotions ran rampant with worry about what could be.

No. No, she wouldn’t let her thoughts travel down that road. Jamie was a good man, a man who loved her, a man who did everything in his power so she was happy and well cared for. A man who she wanted to be hers for always.

A need rose up in her so quickly and so strongly she couldn’t completely stifle the sound of distress that came out of her throat. Jamie stirred and she froze, still wanting to watch him sleep. He readjusted and pulled her closer, hand drifting towards her abdomen.

Suddenly, she felt it. A soft push from the inside of her belly. It had startled her the day before, the feeling foreign and somewhat frightening. Truly there was a child in there. Of course she’d seen their little one on the ultrasound screen, but it was another to feel her. To know she was in there and moving around. It was a different kind of knowing. And it amazed her.

She willed the wee one to do it again, to prove that it wasn’t just a gas bubble. She was concentrating so hard that she didn’t realize Jamie’s hand was on her stomach, cupping the small swell lovingly. He hadn’t woken, but a pure smile crept over his face; the same smile that came over him when she brushed his hair back while he slept. It simultaneous melted and broke her heart.

She knew she was being unfair to him, not letting him touch her, but she couldn’t wrap her head around the changes her body was going through. She had to make the effort, she thought to herself. She had to do this for him, as he did all these things for her.

At that thought, another idea sprung to her mind. Another way to show Jamie that she truly understood and was thankful for everything he did for her. As if in agreement with her thoughts, the little peanut gave another soft kick to her abdomen. She smiled and snuggled back into him, letting herself drift back to sleep for a little while longer.

I Won't Say It

Requested by an anonymous flubble for their birthday. They wanted an Eleven fic based off of the song “I Won’t Say I’m In Love” and I’m pretty sure I nailed it (I even managed to incorporate some lyrics).

And for those of you wondering why Jack Harkness is here - first of all, Jack Harkness is too good to not be here, and secondly, he’s the best person I could think of to be a sassy singing Greek Muse in a toga whose most pressing interest is matchmaking. (Except for maybe Donna, but I don’t think she’d put up with all this nonsense.)

Also, look at this gif. Look at those lips. Just look at the lips. Look at them.

“I’m not doing this with you, Jack.”

“Like you have anything better to do than me.”

You glared at Jack Harkness, Captain of the Innuendo Squad, and wondered how long it would be before Jack got distracted by something shiny and ran off. That’s basically what he did last time. Alright, so last time, the “something shiny” had been a blue alien woman in very revealing clothing (what she was revealing, you weren’t sure, but that was not one bit human at all), but the point stood that Jack could be distracted from this current line of discussion. But, considering the lack of revealing aliens in this situation and how intent Jack seemed to be on having this conversation, you doubted it would happen like that again anytime soon. Shame.

“You’re disgusting,” you said plainly, playfully tossing a grape at him so he would know you weren’t quite as angry as you sounded. He leaned back and caught it in his mouth.

“You love it," Jack said around the grape. He chewed it with a smirk on his face.

You picked up another grape and stuck it in your own mouth. "No. And we’re not talking about this.”

“Oh, so we’re not talking about your very mature, reasonable crush on a really sexy Time Lo-”

“No, we’re not!” you snapped. Now you were angry. Or at least very, very frustrated.

This conversation happened a lot. Every time the Doctor left you and Jack alone in the TARDIS (which the Doctor seemed a little uncomfortable with because he always tried to take you with him and leave Jack behind, but you and Jack weren’t having any of that), Jack hounded you about your ‘crush’ on the Doctor. It wasn’t a crush, though, and you knew that, and you were pretty sure that Jack knew it too, which was why he was pushing it so hard. Because it was more than a crush, way more, and Jack wanted you to say it.

“And we’re not talking about it,” you continued, angrily chomping down on another grape, "because there’s nothing to talk about.“

"Who d'ya think you’re kiddin’?” Jack drawled. “You like him…”

You rolled your eyes. “What are you, four?”

“Nah. I’m six, at least.” Jack gave you that grin, the you-can’t-hate-me-because-I’m-so-cute-and-sinful grin, trying to take the edge off of the conversation. It didn’t work. "Honey, I think the world of you, but this is ridiculous. You love the Doctor. Can’t you face it like a grown-up?“

Hurt stung you. He hadn’t actually said anything offensive, but there had been a veiled accusation of immaturity there, and you couldn’t defend yourself and tell him that it wasn’t like that, not without saying exactly what you didn’t want to say. So instead, you said:

"Get off my case, Jack, would you?”

Jack scoffed irritably. Jack rarely got angry, as far as you had seen, but this was obviously getting to him. You didn’t want to see what an angry Jack was like, but you weren’t going to give in just because he got huffy. There was no good reason for him to get to bully you like this and you weren’t about to let him do it, either.

The grapes were left forgotten on the granite countertop of the island in the TARDIS’s oddly compact kitchen. You had stood up in an effort to regain the upper hand by making yourself taller than Jack, but Jack was leaning forward in his seat, halfway to standing up himself. Oh, he wasn’t going to turn this into an actual fight, was he? You had never fought with him. Why did he have to push this?

“You can’t keep denying this. It’s unhealthy,” Jack hissed. “You’re too proud to say it and you’re making yourself miserable.”

“Oh, please.” You put as much biting sarcasm into your voice as you could, trying to stave back the sting that was making your eyes water. You were going to cry. You didn’t want to cry, not in front of Jack or in front of anybody, but especially not in an argument like this.

“You love him.”

“No way. Nuh-uh.”

“And he loves you too!”

Now that was taking it too far. That hurt.

Jack!” you snapped. A single hot tear welled over and made a scorching path down your cheek. You aggressively wiped it away, trying to save face despite your complete loss of control.

You knew your face was red - you could feel the heat of blood rushing up to your face. Your ears were hot and your mouth felt full of cotton. You weren’t sure how this had escalated so quickly, and maybe it wouldn’t have under normal circumstances, and maybe you wouldn’t have let tears fall so easily, but this was a wound that had been festering for years and Jack had poked at it in all the ways that hurt the worst.

Jack stared at you, stunned by the way you had broken so quickly. He didn’t know what to do - he knew that you needed to face up to this, but he hadn’t realized that it was so bad that you would… well, this. He had never made you cry, not once in all the years since you had met. The Doctor, who could sometimes be extraordinarily insensitive, had made you cry multiple times, and Jack had never failed to give the Doctor hell for it, but this wasn’t the Doctor. This was him. Jack had made you cry, and he didn’t know what to do about.

“I-” He swallowed, trying to find the words. He stood up from his seat, slowly moving to comfort you. “Aw, Sweetie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Just stop, Jack. Okay?” You shuffled towards the sink, purposefully out of Jack’s reach. "Just stop.“

You grabbed a scrubbing brush and began to clean dishes that had been left to soak in soapy water. The TARDIS could do he own dishes very well and didn’t mind doing them, but you liked to extend her the courtesy of doing it yourself. Not to mention it was a good distraction. With your back to Jack, you couldn’t see him and he wasn’t saying anything.

Finally, you heard the scrape of a chair and the quick footsteps of Jack making his escape from the kitchen. You sighed in relief even as another traitorous tear slipped from your blotchy cheek and into the sudsy water. You looked at your murky reflection. Your eyes were already red and puffy, just for two little tears, and your cheeks were terribly flushed.

"Get a grip, girl,” you told your reflection, and then you splashed it away with frothy suds and a tea-stained mug.

Since bringing Jack back onto the TARDIS, the Doctor had been torn about the decision. On one hand, he really liked Jack and was glad to have the man back. On the other hand, you really liked Jack and Jack really liked you and that meant that the Doctor didn’t get you all to himself anymore, which he didn’t like. Since finding you, he hadn’t really bothered bringing other companions aboard for very long, mostly because he liked it best when it was just the two of you, as it should be. But on the other hand, Jack was sort of a good security measure. The Doctor wasn’t a fool - he had lost companions before and he wasn’t so arrogant as to think that he wasn’t in danger of losing one again. Jack was like extra security for you, which was good. But on the other hand, you were spending more time with just Jack when the Doctor wasn’t around, and that made the Doctor terribly nervous, because Jack was handsome and charming and tempting and romantic and a man and you were- were- well, he was a boy and you were a girl and the Doctor didn’t like what his brain came up with when he wondered what went on when you two were alone together. But on the other hand, Jack was trustworthy and the Doctor knew that you were safe with the captain. But on the other hand, you had very pretty lips, and Jack couldn’t resist a set of pretty lips, and the Doctor couldn’t recall seeing you kiss anyone ever in all your travels, so perhaps you were letting Jack kiss you, just because humans got lonely without kisses. But on the other hand-

Oh, goodness, that was more than enough hands. That was at least six hands and he didn’t have nearly enough, even if he used his feet.

But the point was, in the end, that even though the Doctor knew that you were quite safe with Jack, the Doctor hated leaving you with him, because the Doctor would spend his outings thinking of Jack kissing you and you kissing Jack, and the very idea of it made him feel frantic. So he would do whatever errands he needed to do and then scurry back to the TARDIS as quickly as he could, often entertaining the thought that, maybe, if he asked nicely, you would get your kisses from him instead of Jack. The Doctor was lonely too, after all, and it seemed more than fair to him that if you were both lonely, you could be unlonely together. Jack could and would get his kisses from just about anyone else in the universe. The only person who the Doctor wanted was you. Wouldn’t it be fair for you and the Doctor to be together while Jack had the rest of the universe? Yes, that was perfectly fair.

This, of course, was all very ridiculous, and the Doctor knew it.

He had no proof, or even the barest bit of evidence, that you and Jack were anything other than good friends. And he wasn’t so silly as to think that he could just ask you for a kiss, or that he could woo you like a Gallifreyan might, but it was a beautiful fantasy that he liked to entertain. And it was true that humans got lonely. Your species was meant to be in pairs. There were some of you who didn’t need it or want it for some reason or another, but the majority of human beings were much better off when they were in pairs. Romantic pairs, that is, and devout pairs, not the casual sort. And you didn’t weren’t part of a pair, which meant that you could have all the friends in the world, but that would not stop you from feeling that loneliness. The Doctor empathized, to a degree - Gallifreyans didn’t feel that pressing urge to find a bond-mate until much later in their lives (the second puberty, if you will), so the Doctor had gotten through many of his regenerations with some curiosity towards the idea but no sense of loneliness or hurt in his lack of partner. Then he had hit the age when that changed, and since then, there had been a terrible gap that he wanted someone to fill. That he wanted you to fill, if he could have his pick, but he doubted you would agree. So, knowing what it felt like, to be missing the other half of something so dear and yet not knowing how to find it… the Doctor couldn’t find it within himself to be angry or blame you at all if you were interested in Jack

The Doctor opened the door to the TARDIS, arguing with himself over whether or not to find you immediately or leave you in peace with Jack. As it turned out, there was no answer to that debate, because Jack was sitting in the console room, looking awful, and you were nowhere to be seen.

Jack looked up at the Doctor with an odd expression on his face. The Doctor stared back even as he shut the TARDIS door behind him.

“… Jack…?” the Doctor ventured to say. “What’s the matter with you, eh?”

Jack grimaced. “I screwed up, Doc.”

The Doctor blinked in surprise. Jack wasn’t terribly proud, not compared to many of the Doctor’s other companions, but rarely admitted to failure before he was absolutely sure that he couldn’t fix his mistake or at least give another attempt to do better. 'I screwed up’ were not words to be heard from Jack Harkness’s mouth.

“What happened?” asked the Doctor, dreading the answer.

“It was…” Jack sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was just trying to get her to admit it to herself, y'know? It’s been hurting her. I can tell. I thought that if she could say it in front of me, maybe she could tell you, and then you’d both stop dancing around it like it’s not there… you two would be so perfect, and you don’t even…”

The Doctor’s nose wrinkled in confusion. “Jack, what are you talkin’ about?”

Jack scoffed. “Both of you are hopelessly oblivious. Doc, she loves you.”

No. No, no, not this. Jack wouldn’t pull such a cruel joke.

“I mean, she really loves you. She is in love with you. She has been for ages. Maybe even before I met you guys. I dunno.”

Stop. Stop, it hurts. Don’t lie. Don’t tease. It hurts.

Then Jack sighed again, heavily, and pursed his lips. “I tried, and I screwed it up. She got upset. Cried. I’ve never made her cry before, Doctor. And what did you do that has her so convinced that you don’t love her, huh?”

I never said anything. Actions speak louder that words, but I never kissed her, either, and I never gave her a flower or shiny thing or a note full of love words. What I’ve done for her, she could logic away to concern and friendship and the protection of a companion. I never said that I love her in straight words or unquestionable actions. How was she to know?

“Where is she?” the Doctor asked when he finally regained his voice.

“Kitchen,” Jack grunted.


You furiously scrubbed away at a pan that you had already scrubbed twice. You were soaked all down the front of your shirt from splashing yourself. There were suds on your face that itched and your fingers were starting to prune, but you didn’t care. You were too upset to care. You usually knew better than to take anything Jack said too seriously, but this time, that was impossible.

“Hey.”

You paused. When had the Doctor gotten back? “Hey, Doctor. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I love you.”

The pan you were scrubbing slipped from your grip and splashed loudly into the sudsy water in the sink. You turned around so that you could face the Doctor, scrubbing-brush still clenched in your hand.

“I love you,” the Doctor repeated, green eyes large and pleading, "and I… I know that I’ve never said anything about it, or shown you how I care, and I’m sorry. I was… scared. I haven’t, I mean, felt this way, not since… well, Rose, really, but this isn’t about Rose. It’s about you. And me, but mostly you. Or, um, us. Because Jack said, and I- I- I want… I want what he said.“

You swallowed, trying to make your voice come out steady: "And what… did Jack say, that you want?”

“That you love me,” the Doctor whispered, stepping closer to you, “and that we would be perfect.”

“I bet we would be,” you agreed, and the Doctor’s eyes lit up.

“I was thinking the exact same thing!” he exclaimed, and he swept you up for a kiss, soapy clothes and pruned fingers and all.

anonymous asked:

I usually don't like crossovers but idk imagine Alex finding a fob watch somewhere, it sort of calling to her, she opens it and suddenly hundreds of years worth of memorys come flooding into her mind, she's The Doctor

She promised Maggie that she’ll always love her.

She promised, she promised, she promised.

She promised, and she held on for her.

She promised, but god, that fob watch? That damn watch that’s always there, but that she never notices, not really, not really?

She’s noticing it now.

She’s noticing it, and she knows – somehow – that it has the power to make her break her promise.

Because there are whispers coming from it.

Whispers, and sometimes, screams.

She’s never opened it – why would she, it’s just an old fob watch, it’s broken, it’s not… – she’s never opened it, but it’s pulling her, now. It’s calling her, now.

And for some reason, its calls feel like her dreams.

Her dreams of space ships and pepper pot killing machines and supernovae with her ship at the center, and running. Lots and lots of running.

Always with the running.

Maggie’s never in her dreams.

Kara is, sometimes. Kara is, and she thinks that sometimes, Kara knows.

That Kara knows about the watch.

She brings it to her one night, and Kara begs her. Begs her to forget it, begs her to put it away. Keep it safe, keep it close, but Alex, please, you’re my sister, I love you, you have to trust me: keep it closed.

And she does trust her – she trusts her more than anything – but the watch scares her.

And she hasn’t ever run from things that scared her.

If her dreams are any indication, she’s the kind of person who runs toward things that scare her.

Not that her dreams are real. Of course they’re not.

But there’s a certain feeling.

A temptation. Another reality.

“Tell me why, then,” she asks her teary eyed sister, her voice soft, half-hoping Kara will comply easily. Half-hoping Kara will refuse her.

Kara groans and she takes off her glasses and she paces – something she’s picked up from Maggie – and she sits back down and pulls Alex’s hands into her lap.

“Alex, we haven’t always… we haven’t always lived this life. But this life? This life is keeping you safe. This life is keeping you alive. And I need you alive, Alex, okay? I need my sister.”

“And I need you, Kara, but you… what the hell do you mean, we haven’t always lived this life? And this life? Keeping me safe? Kara, I’m a DEO agent, my life is on the line all the time, and so is yours, I don’t – ”

“Alex, I just need you to trust me, okay?”

“I do trust you, Kara. I do. But I need to know.”

Her eyes are desperate and her eyes are burning. Her eyes are determined and her eyes are decisive.

And Kara loves her sister. Loves her so much she can’t lose her.

Loves her so much she can’t let her keep living a lie. Even if Alex herself had made her promise to prevent her from opening the watch until it was safe.

Because she has to love Alex enough to trust her. Trust that they’re strong together. That they can keep each other safe. Together.

So she explains – she explains for an entire night, and Alex chugs bourbon and Alex paces and sometimes, Alex cries.

She texts Maggie before she opens it.

Before she lets her Time Lord DNA resurface, before she lets her memories flood back into her body, into her heart, into her mind.

She texts her and she asks her to come over, because if she’s going to keep the universe safe – the universe, the multiverse, all of time, not just the earth anymore – she needs to give Maggie a chance to be with her. Needs to give her a chance to love her anyway.

Or to leave her, instead of being left behind.

She’s convinced Maggie won’t come with her.

Convinced that this will be goodbye.

Kara waits in the other room on standby, in case it is. In case her sister will need her to pick up the pieces.

But Maggie just listens, and Maggie just chuckles.

“Figures that even when I think I’ve fallen for a human, I actually fell for an alien.”

Alex forces out a short laugh, but her ears are roaring with the silence between Maggie’s words, in the moment before Maggie takes her hands and kisses each of her knuckles.

“Ride or die, right Danv – Doctor?” she whispers, but she’s terrified, because how could someone that powerful still want her? Still love her?

She’ll ride with her if Alex still wants her to.

And she might just die if she doesn’t.

Kara holds her hand while she pops open the watch, and Maggie keeps a trembling hand on the small of her back.

Alex falls to one knee and bows her head, eyes squeezed shut, as her life, her thousands of years, pour back into her soul.

She keeps her hand steady in her sister’s, and then she reaches out for Maggie.

Reaches for her, and pulls her into the deepest kiss they’ve ever shared.

“Come with me?” she whispers, because Time Lord or human, TARDIS or DEO, she will never not love this woman.

“Ride or die, Doctor,” Maggie whispers back against her lips, soft and awed and in love, in love, in love.

Affirmation// Sherlock Holmes

Originally posted by elennemigo

This is not requested, but my ALL TIME favorite oneshots are the ones where the men actually show their insecurities and the woman comforts them and speaks that they are capable of being loved. That’s where this came from! Please enjoy!

Sherlock Holmes doesn’t understand how a woman like you can love a drug addicted, thick headed man like himself. After the incident with Culverton Smith, you decide to show him. 

Song lyrics from Amber Run- I Found Love

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

  “No!” You snapped angrily, jumping in front of an raging John Watson who would have beaten Sherlock to death had you not intervened. Culverton watched with an awed expression as you lifted your hand and smacked John so hard that his head flew to the side. “You don’t get to act like you’re the only one who lost something, John Watson! You don’t get to act like all the fault is placed on the only man who has ever actually cared enough to take you under his wing. Because lets face it.” You gripped the lapels of his coat and pulled him so close to your face that he could feel your anger in waves across his face. 

  “You’re just as damaged as he is.” 

In hindsight, you probably should have abstained from hitting the grieving father and husband, but you would never tolerate watching someone beat Sherlock to death because his anger clouded his judgement. John had been wary to approach you since, but found it in him to do so when you attempted to kick him out of 221B when Sherlock was discharged from the hospital. “I’m just going now.” He said quietly, brushing past your form that stood in the doorway. “I’m sorry y/n. You know how hard this is on me-” 

You leaned outward and wrapped your fingers around the former war doctors wrist. “I’m sorry for lashing out at you John, but you know he needs us as much as we need him.” You replied, feigning a smile as he squeezed your hand and left the flat, leaving you alone with your boyfriend. 

  “How can you love someone like me?” A deep baritone rumbled, drawing you out of your trance. 

I’ll use you as a warning sign

That if you talk enough sense then you’ll lose your mind

  “There’s so many reasons I love you, Sherlock Holmes. Words can not describe the unconditional love I feel for you. Even when we lock eyes,” You exhaled slowly as his blue eyes met yours, the left one swollen from the broken blood vessels. “My heart goes frantic.” 

  “That’s the thing!” He exclaimed, wincing as he stood to his feet and began to pace back and forth on the carpet. ‘’I adore you. I have adored you since the day we met because you are perfect. How can someone so perfect fall in love with someone who willingly lets their best friend beat him-” 

Marys death seemed to be a frequent topic of discussion every time John left the house for the night. “None of what happened to Mary is your fault. I’ve made that clear to John plenty of times since it happened.” You said firmly, curling your hands into fists. 

  “I’m a drug addict who didn’t have the decency to properly tell you when we started dating before the Reichenbach. You.. you utterly beautiful human being, you had so much faith in me that you waited two years to see if I’d return. I used to verbally tell you that you were incorrigible and dull. And then you somehow managed to show me that I loved you. And I do,” He hid his face in his hands in a futile attempt to mask the tears lingering in his eyes. “But God only knows you deserve someone much better then the junkie detective.” 

You were inches away from the detectives mutilated body, your breathing hitching as you took Sherlocks hand and sat it against your own to compare the drastic difference in size. “Do you know what I see in these hands? I have seen these hands save lives of innocent people. I have seen them in the most intimate ways, like the first time you found it in yourself to kiss me.” A sob broke past his lips as you led his hands to your jaw, smiling as he cupped it. “And your eyes.. I could get lost in them for hours. Those are eyes that have regarded me with such awe, and eyes that have cried thousands of tears you don’t deserve to have cried. Those are eyes that don’t just see- they also observe.” 

  “Y/n.” 

  “And finally, your lips.” You whispered, standing on your tiptoes and slowly trailing a finger along his cupids bow lips. Sherlock let out a moan he hadn’t expected as you slanted your mouth against his own and lightly took his bottom lip in between your teeth. “Lips that have regarded me as if I were a queen and made me feel as if I could run the world.” Your fingers curled in his shirt as his hands slid up under your blouse, and much to your surprise, caused him to pull away and bury his face in your neck. “Lips that left their mark and told others that I was yours and yours alone. That’s only one of the very reasons why I love you.” 

The two of you stood there for quite some time, cherishing the feeling of one another as Sherlock tightened his grip on your body, his trembling hands unsure of where to rest. “I-” He swallowed thickly, his voice muffled by his face in the crook of your shoulder. “Please don’t go anywhere. I need you. I-I love you.”

  “I love you too, but do you believe it when I say it?” 

You slowly pulled away and placed your hands on Sherlocks shoulders, applying enough pressure to ease him down into his chair. His arms opened as wide as they possibly could and you slid into them, throwing your legs over the chairs arm and resting your head against his shoulder. “There’s not one lie that comes from your lips. I’ve believed everything you said since you nearly offered yourself to Moriarty in exchange for Johns life. That’s why he’s always been taken with you.” 

It was clear from the trembling in his hands and his breathing that he was exhausted. “Are you tired my love?” you whispered, shushing his response as your fingers slid into his hair and began to slowly rake along his scalp. 

  “C-Can’t sleep. I’ll have nightmares of John literally trying to kill me.”

  “Do you have any ideas of what I can do to help you sleep?” 

Sherlock let out a sharp gasp as he picked you up bridal style and slowly ambled down the hall to your shared bedroom, resting you on your side before curling up in his, waiting to be able to rest his head on your chest. Your heart melted as he twined your legs together and threw his arm over your waist, his head resting on your chest. His curls tickled your nose, but you did your best to not laugh. “Sing. I don’t care what. Just sing to me.” 

You inhaled deeply and parted your lips, singing softly as Sherlock fell into a deep slumber. his fingers still linked with yours. 

I found love where it wasn’t supposed to be

Right in front of me

It talked some sense to me

He wasn’t perfect, but he was so perfectly imperfect, and he was yours. 

That made it all the more better. 

Tag List 

@charlottemalfoy @gonnamurderyou @foureyedsiopao @fourtyninekirbygamzeegirl

Watching The Pilot for the first time

Series 10, here we go.

-The first episode of Series 10.
 So we could say this is the…
 PILOT episode

-I’m sorry. That joke doesn’t work, I know.

—Spoilers ahead!—

-Ooh, is this Bill’s theme? I like it?

-TARDIS!!

-Why is it out of order though…

-Oh my god he has a photo of River Song on his desk ;-;

-And oh god is that Susan

Sonic screwdrivers! Did he keep all his sonic screwdrivers after all this time?

-The guitar again!

-Two minutes in and I’m already losing track of the dialogue

-Fifty years… So the Doctor’s been laying low again, has he?

-”Poetry, physics, same thing.”
 You know what, I bet he didn’t even get hired through the normal procedure, he just walked in one day telling everyone he was the new professor, or even an old professor who left and decided to return, and he just bullshitted his way through any and all obstacles he came across during his stay

-”How is it the same?”
 “Because of the rhymes.”
 Let’s see,
 poetry
 physics
 Yep, doesn’t rhyme.

-Oh Doctor…

-”I don’t care who’s dying, never ever be late, I’m very particular about time.”
 Says the guy who was twelve years late when he said five minutes once.

-”Doctor what?”

-*cue changed intro logo DOCTOR WHAT*

-Okay, the intro visuals seem to have changed a little, but the melody sounds unchanged.

-OH SHIT IT’S MOFFAT

The inside of his coat is blue now?

AKA the pain of frame-by-frame or stopmotion animation

-Is Moffat trying to get us scared of slowmotion

-I feel like the students are very confused as to what to take notes of

-”Time And Relative Dimensions In Space, in means life.”
 I thought your granddaughter made that up?

-BILL BE QUIET WHEN YOU’RE SNEAKING

-SNEAKING IS SUPPOSED TO BE QUIET

-There we go.

-WHAT THE

-NOPE

-I don’t like background music, it says jumpscare music

-It’s scary music

-Thank goodness, no jumpscares

-SCARY MUSIC AGAIN

-WHAT THE FUCK

-WHAT THE FUCK

-WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

-MOFFAT’S NOT TRYING TO GET US SCARED OF SLOW MOTION, HE’S TRYING TO GET US SCARED OF PUDDLES

-Aw, she gave him a Christmas present

Look at those poor paper crowns trying to hold all that hair omygosh

-”With some people you can smell the wind in their clothes”
 I guess it’s supposed to be more philosophical, but for me that reminds me of how people have the cold air around them when they just came in from outside.

-R.I.P. Bill’s mom.

-”But if someone’s gone, do pictures really help?”
 That glace he makes at the photos on his desk.
 At his wife and granddaughter.
 That, is just heartbreaking.

Hey, Moffat, do you have a heart, because you’re breaking mine with fictional photographs

the FUCK

-So the Doctor, took a picture of the mother, of a student that he is currently teaching, back when said student wasn’t even born?

-Eyyy he’s using the rug

-But did he really tilt the Tardis himself to put a rug under it?
 I mean, it’s incredibly light compared to its actual size, but it’s still a phone box. Sure, if someone ran at full speed and slammed their body against it that might give it a good jolt or even make it fall over but…

-There’s something deeply unsettling about that girl’s stare

WHOA BITCH

-REMIND ME TO NEVER STEP IN EVERY PUDDLE THAT I SEE EVER AGAIN

-Well the Doctor certainly knows how to escape silently…

His clothes are blue now!

-You’re blue now! That’s my attack!

-Cue Twelfth Doctor theme, woohoo!

-”Why do you run like that?”
 “Like what?”
 “Like a penguin with its ass on fire.”
 “Ergonomics.”
 Human factors and ergonomics (commonly referred to as HF&E), also known as comfort design, functional design, and systems,[1 is the practice of designing products, systems, or processes to take proper account of the interaction between them and the people who use them. (Source: Wikipedia)

-PAHAHAJHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA

-BEST LINE TEN OUTTA TEN

-I’VE BEEN LAUGHING FOR THIRTY SECONDS NOW

-Ahahahahaha hah ahahaha ha ha

-Brilliant.

What’s with the burn marks on the ground

-”Do you know any scifi?”
 “Bitch, I AM scifi.”

-Possession usually has to do with fantasy or horror, not scifi…

-”There’s this thing on Netflix. Lizards in people’s brains.”
 First Pokemon, now Netflix. BBC REALLY doesn’t care.

-What’s the show though, it sounds interesting.

-” So, you meet a girl with a discolored iris and your first thought is she might have a lizard in her brain? I can see I’m going to have to up my game.“

-Doctor Who dialogue just gets better and better

-Actually, you can sorta see your face the ‘right way’ if you align two mirrors together so they’re perpendicular. The middle line might stand out, but you’re looking at your face the way anyone else sees it. The elevator in my apartment building has three reflective sides, so I can see my ‘right’ face quite often. I just have to stare at a corner of said elevator.

-They’re finally getting to the burn marks, thank you.

-”Tutorial’s over, take the night off. It’s all cancelled. Go and be a proper student. Texts, snogging, a vegan wrap.”
How does any of that make me a proper student

-”Oh, it’s just some freak optical effect. I’m bored already.”
 Like hell you are

SHIT

-IT’S NOT FUNNY LAPIS

-oh shit she’s alone in the flat

You could’ve gone to the kitchen and grabbed a knife

-But then, an umbrella is bigger and easier to wield and is great at deflecting water, so, not bad I guess

-Well I’m still getting myself a knife

-That’s it, I’m sitting in front of the monitor with a kitchen knife in my hand

-WHOA BITCH

DON’T BLINK.

-oh shit

-OH SHIT

-OH SHIT

-DON’T SAY HELLO TO YOUR POSSESSED GHOST FRIEND

-OH GOD THIS IS MIDNIGHT ALL OVER AGAIN

IT’S MIDNIGHT AND WATERS OF MARS ALL OVER AGAIN

-WHOA HIT

-shit shit shit shit SHIT

-EYY BIGGER ON THE INSIDE MOMENT

-EYY THE BIT FROM THE TRAILER

“Well, that’s a first…”

-So the Tardis does have a bathroom. After all these years. After FIFTY-FOUR years, the BBC finally gives us the answer no one really asked for but everybody kind of wanted anyway.

-”Human alert, do you want me to repel her?”

-”Oh, my God! This isn’t just a room, is it?”
 “No, it’s not just a room.”
 “This is a lift!”
 “…wELL oKAY tHeN”

-”It’s bigger on the inside than it is on the outside!”
 “Heh-hey! We got there!”

-HahAhahahaha

-”Well, first you have to imagine a very big box fitting inside a very small box. Then you have to make one. It’s the second part people normally get stuck on.”

-Of course, one could always scumple the big box and stuff it inside the small box, but then, the big box wouldn’t be big anymore, would it?

-”If it had work to do, why would it lie around in a puddle?”
 “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a student?”
 So it’s too afraid of life and consequences and generally overwhelmed by the looming weight of its duties to get itself to do anything?

-Wait, is the the room Bill followed them into earlier?

-RUN

-IT’S A BANSHEE AS WELL AS A MIDNIGHT CREATURE AND A WATER MONSTER

ah yes the three primary colors
(not to mention Misty from Pokemon)

-You’re escaping from a water monster and you went to a beach, good idea, 10/10.

-”Have we traveled in time?”
 “No, we traveled to Australia.”
 That’s also a first.

-Bill, you can’t just drink from the bathroom sink!

-”Can I ask you a personal question?”
 “No!”
 “Can I anyway?”
 “…Yes.”

-”If you’re from another planet, why would you name your box in English? Those initials wouldn’t work in any other language!”
 THANK YOU BILL
 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BRINGING THAT UP

-Well, that wasn’t exactly a shark, but thanks for proving the point, Heather.

-”Hunger looks very like evil from the wrong end of the cutlery. Or do you think that your bacon sandwich loves you back?“
 In case you’re trying to start a vegan argument with this, no offense but your broccoli doesn’t love you back either.

-So that’s why the episode is titled ‘The Pilot’.

-Also, now that Bill’s found a puddle here, they better rUN THE FUCK AWAY.

wHAT THE FUCK

-Nope nope nope nope nope

Heyyy it’s the old sonic!

-The Fourth Doctor’s sonic, to be precise.

-Soooo did BBC make some new props for this episode or did they keep all the screwdrivers from the sixties and on

-”Hey John, while you’re throwing out those old props, would you mind putting these sonic screwdrivers in the recycle bin?”
 “Nah, let’s keep them, they don’t take up a lot of space. Besides, we might need them again some decades later.”
 “Good point.”

-OH SHIT THEY RAN INTO A BUNCH OF DALEKS

-ON PURPOSE

-Twelve: “We’ve got this annoying creature on our tail, let’s try to shake it off by running through a ton of Daleks.”
 Ten: “What went wrong with you”
 Eleven: “What happened to me”

WHAT

-THEY’RE FIGHTING DALEKS??

-Yep, it’s not going well for those lot

-”EXTERMINATE!”
 “Exterminate!”
 “EXTERMINATE!”
 “Exterminate!”
 yeah you two do that and be friends while we run away thank you

-It’s like the Doctor isn’t even taking the Daleks seriously anymore

-”YOU ARE AN ENEMY OF THE DALEKS!”
 “lol what else would i be”

-Daleks have stormtrooper level aim now. gg BBC, gg

Tbh that’s even freakier than a normal dalek eyestalk

-BANSHEE, MIDNIGHT MONSTER, WATER CREATURE AND DALEK

-MOFFAT’S HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE ISN’T HE

-Oh wait, this is only the first episode, does that mean
 Moffat hasn’t even started yet

-Is he planning to give heart attacks to all of us

-”The last thing she said to me. She promised she wouldn’t leave without me.”
 And now my heart’s breaking

-shit shit shit shit shit

Ehhh it’s okay Moffat, I didn’t need that heart anyway lol

-”That’s the Doctor for you. Never notices the tears.“
 Never acknowledges his own tears either…

-”Yeah, because I think you’re going to wipe my memory. I’m not stupid, you know. That’s the trouble with you. You don’t think anyone’s ever seen a movie. I know what a mind-wipe looks like!“
 THANK YOU BILL

-”Imagine, just imagine how it would feel if someone did this to you.“
 They just HAD to put Clara’s theme in there, didn’t they?

-All slowed down and more tragic

-And they HAD to make the Doctor sound like he’s holding back tears

-*distant crying noises*

“Shut up.”

“You shut up as well.”

-Someone fucking end me

-Come to my house and stop my sinful hands

-I am allowed too much power

-*ahem* Anyway

-Did the Doctor just leave for a hundred years to mull this over and come back to the present

-”It means, what the hell.”
 That’s a first, AGAIN.

-I love that theme at the end!

-Oh boy I can’t wait for more episodes, they all look so exciting–

nOOO

iS THAt john simm

-WhAT tEh FUcK

anonymous asked:

I just thought about doctor!Phil and patient!Dan and like,,, maybe Dan attempted suicide and is in the hospital and slowly falls in love with Phil ahhh

» trigger warning , also i am nOT TRYING TO ROMANTICIZE SUICIDE OR SELF HARM BC ITS AWFUL AND YOU SHOULDN’T DO IT AND IT AIN’T CUTE «

It started slowly.

Phil felt bad for him. That was all- obviously, of course he would feel bad for the poor boy who tried to drown himself in his own bathtub.

But it was something else as well.

The way he looked, the way he stared at everything like it owed him something. He watched the world as if there was something else there, something deeper and more important than the naked eye could see. His eyes caught in flames, the heat warming and sometimes burning everything around him, which was not the way people who attempt suicide usually look.

And it broke Phil’s heart to see how he looked at people, like he had given up all hope of a single bit of good in the entire human race.

It was completely unprofessional, but it made Phil want to kiss him breathless until he saw how good people could be.

It was soon distinguished that Phil was the only person Dan would talk to. No one really got why, maybe because Phil was the first person he spoke to when he first came to the hospital; the only person he had looked at, really.

He looked at Phil the same way he looked at everyone else; blankly. Only with a tiny hint of curiosity behind those chocolatey irises. Captivated.

And that’s what Phil was in Dan. Enchanted, captivated. Curious as to why this broken boy made his heart flutter so bad.

They put him in a room right beside Dan’s, when they finally moved him to the mental ward. Phil was always on the night shift anyways, he didn’t have a family to go home to, and any extra time he got to spend with Dan was something he would fight for.

The first night, Dan had a night terror.

Phil woke up to screaming, broken sobs coming from the walls by his head. He shot up, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table. He had fallen asleep dressed, just in case something like this happened.

When he pushed open Dan’s door, the boy was curled into a ball by his pillows, his knees hugged to his chest. His eyes seemed to flash in the darkness.

“D-Doctor…?”

Phil nodded, and then realized Dan probably couldn’t see him very well.

“Yes,” he said softly, and then cleared his throat, trying to shake off his morning voice.

He heard a shaky breath, and Dan shifted on the bed.

“’m scared,” he breathed, and Phil’s heart cracked down the center. He licked his lips.

“How can I help you?”

Dan hesitated, cocking his head to the side slightly, and Phil realized his cheeks were wet and tear stained.

“C'mere.”

Phil obliged, sitting down on his bed as gently as possible. Dan stared at him, burying his face in his arms, his searching eyes the only thing showing.

“W-Will y-you stay…?” He asked timidly, his voice catching.

Phil should say no. He knows that. But Dan looks incredibly beautiful, as messed up as it was, his face sleepy, but brought sharp by the fear haunting his features.

“Yeah,” Phil whispered before he could stop himself. Dan smiled the smallest smile possible.

“Thank y-y-you.”

Phil never really remembered it happening, all he knew was he woke up the next morning tangled together with Dan in his sheets, and Dan was clinging to him like he was the only thing in the world that was anchoring him to the ground.

It wasn’t anything they could really keep hidden. All of the staff knew there was something there; Dan’s bedside tables were covered with flowers and stuffed animals before long, when his friends and family swore they only brought half of it.

Somehow Dan’s eyes lit up like fireworks whenever Phil entered the room, and Phil wasn’t much different.

Phil found Dan crying one night, laying in the corner of the room.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked softly, sitting next to him, his tone laced with worry.

“Everyone-” Dan hiccuped, cutting off his own words. “Everyone k-keeps saying t-that people can’t cure you.” He wiped at his eyes, sitting up. “Because they know I-” he paused, a blush dusting his already rose tinted cheeks. Phil wanted to kiss them. “I l-like you. They say that love c-can’t cure you.”

He looked at Phil, his eyes wide and hopeful, as if silently begging for any kind of correction. Phil paused, taking Dan’s hand and playing with his fingers.

“Well…” he spoke slowly, cautiously. “They’re right. All the love in the world can’t cure what you have in your mind, Dan.”

Dan let his gaze fall, his hopes visibly falling as well, but Phil squeezed his hand.

“But… love can help. It helps you through the problems, it’s there for you when you need someone, and that’s what matters.”

After that, the friends, the family, the staff- they’d all tell you the same thing. Dan Howell had never trusted anyone like he trusted Phil.

And it seemed to be the same for the other.

Babysitters - Destiel Imagine Request

Request:  I want to request for a fic .. destiel fanfic where sam de-ages and turns into a baby and dean and cas take care of him and oh my god while doing it for a while they finally confess their feelings for eachother

Characters: Destiel, Sam, Rowena (mentioned), Mary (mentioned).

Word count: 2,554

Warnings: Unedited.

A/N: It’s been a while since I wrote a Destiel fic, so I’m excited yet scared about this one, because I don’t know if I fully captured each character’s escence (mostly because I get caught on the fluff). Hope you enjoy it!

“Dean, he won’t stop crying!” Cas complained as he tried to calm Sam down.

“He was always a cry baby..” Dean mumbled, taking his brother from Castiel’s arms.

The thing they were hunting, whatever it was, turned Sam into a baby before escaping. Therefore, Dean and Cas had to take care of him while they found a way of turning him back to his real age.

“Think we should call Mom?” Dean suggested after Sam stopped crying, “I mean she said she missed baby Sam and…”

“Dean.” Castiel spoke in a warning voice, “This isn’t what your mother meant.”

“I know, I know… I was just…”

“Give her time.” The angel interrupted softly. He placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, a gesture they were both familiar with for it was Cas’ way of showing empathy.

Dean nodded, getting lost in the angel’s blue eyes until an awful smell reached his nostrils.

“What is that?” Dean shrugged.

“I think Sam evacuated.” Castiel said, wearing his usual squint.

“I’m not going to change my brother’s diapers again!” Dean fumed.

“Again?” Castiel squinted even deeper, reading Dean’s mind.

When Sam was just a baby and Dean was just a kid, John would leave them at another hunter’s house or even at a crappy motel, which ended in Dean having to change Sam’s diapers for nobody would.

It was a sad memory, but when were Dean’s childhood memories happy?  He had been alone, with his baby brother as company, growing up faster than anyone should. Castiel acknowledge his pain, taking it as his own.

“We’ll do it together.” The angel stated. If Dean’s feelings were loneliness when remembering said moments, Cas would try and make him company.

-

“Okay… Let’s do this.” Dean mumbled as he started changing Sam’s diaper with expert hands.

If Dean were a doctor, Castiel would be his nurse. The angel made sure to hand Dean any kind of supply he needed while the hunter did his job. Yes, there were some disgusted smirks from each, but they were done in five minutes.

“There you go, buddy.” Smiled Dean as he fixed the diaper for Sam to be comfortable.

Sam stood quiet and even smiley for longer than Dean expected. However, he was still a baby and, in no time, he was crying once more.

“Let me.” Castiel begged, taking Sam in his arms.

Dean sat down at the table in the war room, researching for a cure or at least any spell to age Sam back up. He was focused on the screen until Castiel’s low voice reached his ears, drifting any other thought away.

Dean stood up and walked to the next room where Cas was rocking Sam softly as he sung something in an unknown language. Dean stared in awe.

Once Sam had fallen asleep, Cas looked up at Dean. The angel blushed, unable to control his human vessel as he would like to, making Dean giggle.

“What?” Castiel asked in a rather grumpy voice.

“Nothing.” Dean smiled cheekily, “I didn’t knew you enjoyed singing.”

“It’s a lullaby in Enochian,” Cas explained, “We sing that to new born angels and kids that go to Heaven.”

“Whatever it means, Sam seems to like it.” Dean said, walking closer to the angel until they were side to side.

Dean looked down at his brother. He barely remembered how tiny and innocent Sam was when he was that age. The angel, on the other hand, had his blue eyes focused on Dean’s features, a habit he had developed over time.

“Do you like it?” Cas asked, emphasizing the second word. Dean looked up to his angel, freezing for a second by the intensity of his gaze.

“Yeah.” The well-known sex tension rose again. Both men staring deeply into each other’s eyes, their breaths mixing with the other’s as the rest of the world disappeared for the moment.

Baby or not, Sam hated that tension. They were always too scared to give the next step, leaving the whole room into an aura of tension and stress. He wanted to push them – they were so close he could easily make them kiss IF he was a grown up; but he wasn’t, and his frustration got expressed by a loud cry that took both men’s attention away from each other.

“What’s wrong, Sammy?” Dean asked in his motherly voice.

“I think he is frustrated, except I don’t know why…” Castiel calmed the baby by pressing two fingers on his forehead. “Tell me, Sam, what’s wrong?”

The exchange was far from strange to Dean’s eyes. Castiel would hum in response while Sam just stared at him. Yes, there were gestures and even slight movements from Sam, but those were the usual “baby” ones.

After a few minutes into the talk, Castiel’s cheeks turned bright red as his blue eyes widened. Dean tried to ask him about the reason to his sudden behaviour, but the angel only replied with a “I have to go” and the sound of his wings flying away.

Dean sighed heavily; he hated when Cas disappeared without any explanation. Then, he looked back down at his brother who, in spite of being a baby, gave him a knowing look.

“Don’t look at me like that, Sammy.” Dean begged, only to get a baby bitch face from his brother. “You’re a bitch, you know that?” Baby Sam tilted his head, “We’ve talked about this, Sam.” Dean growled.

-

It had been around three hours since Castiel disappeared. Dean had managed just fine, in spite of getting into silly arguments with his literal baby brother. Yes, he had cried with him, he had tried singing rock songs as lullabies and even tried to blackmail him into behaving… Of course, nothing worked as good as Cas calming Sam down, either by using his angelic powers or singing that Enochian lullaby.

“Sam…” Dean grumbled as baby Sam gave him another look, “No… I… Fine I’ll call him.”

Dean left his brother in bed. He was so tiny in comparison to the humongous bed he would use before turning into a baby, that Dean stared in awe for a whole minute before going back to his real task: Calling Cas.

The hunter placed both hands in place as he looked up to the ceiling. “Castiel,” he spoke, “I pray to you because I’m tired as hell and I’m pretty sure he wants you because you’re a definitely better baby sitter than I am and…”

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel spoke as he appeared in front of the hunter.

“Good to see you,” Dean smiled for a second before returning to his serious gaze, “why did you bail out on me?”

“Sam uh… He said something that required me to take some time away.” Castiel explained.

“What kind of things?” Dean inquired.

How was Castiel, an angel of the Lord, supposed to explain to Dean that his baby brother could tell how much in love he was with the hunter? It was insane! And not because they weren’t allowed (which they weren’t unless they got a special permission), but because Cas knew how Dean felt about angels.

“Private things.” Cas mumbled.

“Well, Sammy wants you here and I don’t know why.” Dean grumbled, gesturing towards the baby lying in bed.

The angel approached him, analysing his features and, presumably, reading his mind.

“Sam says he wants to listen to music…” Castiel squinted towards Dean, “I don’t understand why he would need me to come if you can play music for him.”

Dean felt a burn inside of him. Not because of Sam, but because he had just realized that he was the one to want Cas around, and his unconscious had betrayed him by misinterpreting one of Sam’s bitch-faces.

The angel walked over to the bureau, from which he took Sam’s phone. He searched for the music app and started playing it at a mild volume. Sam smiled and then fell asleep, like nothing had happened.

“You’re tired.” Cas observed as he turned around to face Dean.

“Well, my second in command flew away.” Dean complained.

“I’m sorry.” Cas apologised. Dean shove it off with a hand gestured and then both men went down to the library.

They sat down, one next to the other, to rest a little until Sam cried again.

“Was it easier when you were kids?” Castiel asked, breaking the silence of the room.

“Well, no… It’s kind of like the same, except now Sam seems to be less heavy.” Dean joked.

“That’s because you’re grown now, and have developed strength enough for Sam to seem lighter.” Castiel explained, like Dean didn’t know that already.

“That explains a lot, thanks.” Dean replied, acting like it was the first time he heard that. He knew Cas still didn’t know when a person knew something or not, as well as other things, so Dean would make it easier by following the angel. After all, it made him happy.

“Did you have to change another diaper?” Castiel continued to ask.

“Yup… A bunch of them, actually.” Dean replied, “It’s not the same without my angelic assistant.”

Castiel blushed lightly, looking down to his fidgeting hands. Dean followed his every move with loving green eyes.

“I won’t bail on you anymore.” The angel promised.

-

“I asked Rowena to come.” Dean informed as Castiel appeared in Sam’s room. The hunter looked worried.

“You must be in a real hurry… What happened?” Castiel asked concerned. Yes, he could hear Sam crying but it was nothing he hadn’t done before.

“He’s got a fever and I don’t know how to treat a baby’s fever… If he were older, I would just push him into an ice cold bath and give him a pill but…” Dean’s green eyes were full of fear.

“It’s fine, I’m here now.” Castiel comforter as he reached towards Sam’s forehead, curing him immediately after his fingers touched him.

“Thanks.”

Castiel put Sam to sleep, asking Dean to go to his own room and get some sleep. “I’ll take care of him” the angel promised, but when it came to Sam, Dean couldn’t rest until he was sure his brother was fine.

Castiel eventually appeared in Dean’s room. The hunter was wide awake, walking around the place nervously.

“How is he?” Dean asked.

“I cured him completely, and now he is sleeping.” Castiel explained.

“But what if he gets hungry? He is the kind of dude that snacks at midnight and…” Castiel hushed him by pressing a finger over Dean’s lips, a gesture he had never used before.

“You worry too much.” The angel remarked, “He will be fine… My only concern for now is you.”

“Me?” Dean hissed, “I’m good! Sam’s should be your only concern now! HE IS A GOODDAMN BABY!” Castiel nodded patiently.

“I’m aware of your brother’s sate,” He spoke, “but you are no better.”

Dean huffed in frustration. Yes, he was feeling like crap but he was sure that it was only because Sam was still a baby and Rowena was late.

“You’re stressed Dean.” Cas observed.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dean replied sassily.

“I’m Castiel, not Sherlock.” The angel squinted but shove the thought aside, “You’re always taking care of the others, and you never worry about taking care of yourself.”

“I don’t need to be taken care off.” Dean argued, but the angel had his mind set and forced the hunter to lie in bed.

“Just rest,” Cas begged, “I go this.”

-

“Why isn’t she here yet?” Stormed Dean as he entered the kitchen.

“Why are you up?” Replied Castiel.

Dean looked at his angel. He was hiding something behind him, and he looked guilty as ever.

“Why aren’t you with Sam?” Dean inquired angrily.

“Sam is safe; I just came down to…”

“You were supposed to be with him!” Dean interrupted angrily.

“He doesn’t need be to watch him all the time!” Castiel replied in the same tone.

“HE IS A FREAKING BABY!” Dean insisted.

“I understand your concern, but he is fine. Trust me.” Castiel begged patiently. His voice was so soothing, it made Dean forget all his worries. “I got you some pie.”

-

“Why is he crying?” Dean whined.

“I don’t know… He is just crying for nothing!” Castiel answered.

“You drama bitch!” Dean hissed at his baby brother who was crying like he was being tortured.

“Dean, don’t call him that.” Castiel begged. Dean sighed heavily and left Sam in bed, then stood up and found himself face to face with the angel.

“I don’t know what else to do, Cas.” Dean confessed in a trembling voice.

“We’ll find a way.” Cas promised.

Another strange gesture followed, for Dean held Cas’ hand in his tightly. It wasn’t like they hadn’t hold hands in the past, but this was different; it wasn’t a handshake, or a high five, less to say a grip to save the other’s ass from falling from a rooftop. It was different.

“Thanks.” Dean melted, allowing Cas to take full control of the situation.

Cas pulled Dean into a not so friendly embrace, his mind thinking of any kind of solution possible. He had tried using his powers, but Sam kept crying like it was the end of the world; Rowena hadn’t arrived and Dean was a mess… Castiel had to think fast.

“Some parents leave the baby to cry, because they know he will get tired and stop crying at some point.” Castiel spoke. Dean looked up at him with redden eyes.

“Let’s try that.”  Dean tried to smile in vain.

They weren’t going to leave Sam alone because he was literally rolling from one side of the other in bed, which could end up in him falling. However, they did ignored his crying – which was really hard for Dean and his soft heart.

“It’s fine, he’ll stop.” Castiel repeated over and over again as he pulled Dean’s face away from Sam. “Dean, look at me.” The angel begged.

“My head aches.” Dean confessed with a weak smile. He was finally adjusting to Sam’s crying.

“I can fix that.” Cas offered, but Dean shook his head.

“It’ll go away.” Dean stated, “So this is what real parent do, huh?”

“I believe so, yes.” Castiel replied, trying to smile back at his hunter.

“Does that make us good parents?” Dean inquired jokingly.

“I guess it does… I mean, only if you want to.” The angel replied shyly.

“I do want to…” Dean spoke softly.

Suddenly, their eyes were connected and the tension was back in the air; except this time it didn’t last much. Before they could process what was going on, their lips were over the other’s, both of their scruff finding a way to become one as their arms wrapped each other.

They broke the kiss, blushing like never before. Suddenly shy, suddenly happy – it felt like the right thing to do. Their minds were so focused on each other, they didn’t realized until later that Sam was no longer crying; instead he was staring at them with a big, toothless grin on his face.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean mumbled, unable to hide his growing smile.

“Guess we know now why he was crying.” Castiel shrugged.

“Yeah.” Dean looked at his angel, holding his hand tightly.

Yes, they would be great parents one day.

Its so fucked up how fat people even MENTION other people accepting us people ALWAYS come out of the woodworks with some

“Well beauty is in the eye of the beholder!” “You cant make people find you attractive!”

Like yall make the BIGGEST fucking reaches to tell us that we arent ALLOWED to be accepted and loved and cared for.

And no, just cause you say you care for our health and that were “dying” and “killing yourselves” and talk about all these health conditions that yall dont even KNOW we have. Yall love to fucking run your mouths about shit yall dont fucking know about

You’re not ME you’re not my fucking doctor you dont fucking know me or my health history! Stop talking like you know shit!

And then there are those who act like wanting to fuck us is a compliment when its NOT. We are not your fucking fetish we are not objects to sexualize and fuck. We are real fucking people with real feelings. Go to hell

And then the bitches who flat out say disgusting awful cruel shit about us. Theyre the big bullies who pick on people because theyre sad about their own lives

No matter what happens, fat people are CONSTANTLY dehuminized. Were not allowed to be human because we’re fat. Were not allowed tonbe happy and free and love ourselves and our lives nevause we’re fat.

We deal with bullshit from our friends and families and even fucking strangers! I had a woman come up to me while i was at a diner with my mom and whe literally said to my face “you need to lose some weight” a stranger! Who i never seen again! How is that okay!

People don’t care about the effects. They dont care if we develop eating disorders, have depression, low self esteem. They don’t care because well, they hate us, and want to dictate how we live our lives because dont like the space we take up

But well, were here, and we will always be here. If you dont like it, look the other way or you can kiss my FAT puerto rican ass

anonymous asked:

“I don’t want to get up — you’re too comfy." for Zimbits whenever you have the time <3

hey, um, it’s been a good three months since you sent this. apologies, also I didn’t know I had really strong head canon’s about a Zimbits baby, but here I am? you can find this on ao3, and as always, please leave comments and the like bc I am lowkey (read: highkey) desperate for them.


It was Bitty’s first Thanksgiving in Providence. It was a hard-fought win, what with Thanksgiving being such an important family holiday in the Bittle home, but it was Jack and Bitty’s first year in their new home that they picked out together and Bitty was determined that every holiday in the first year they lived together would be celebrated alone together. It was a hard decision to make, and it was one that they made together over the course of several sleepy afternoon naps and late night skype sessions while Jack was out of town for games.

Bitty and Jack finalized their adoption of their daughter, Celia, in late August and Bitty left his café, Bitty Bites, in the capable hands of Lardo while he stayed at home with Cece because he couldn’t quite fathom leaving her to go to work until she was at least a little bit older. Jack wanted to quit hockey to stay home with his chouchou, as he had taken to calling her, but after a lengthy discussion with Eric, decided that he wasn’t ready to retire yet, but would miss their daughter every minute he didn’t get to spend with her.

Celia Maite was a very special little girl. She was born to a mother who loved her more than anything in this world, but unfortunately her mother didn’t have the means to provide a baby that was special like Celia. Celia was born blind and had undergone two surgeries and was to the point where they believed that she could make out shapes, but not much else. Nothing in the world could stop Cece. Bitty was in awe of her every day.

He had never really thought about having kids, maybe the concept of them, but for a long time Bitty had always assumed that he would end up alone and hadn’t put much thought into children before. It wasn’t until a small slip of a girl was crying in the corner booth at his café that he ever really thought about children as more than a foreign concept at all. Camila was Celia’s mother, and she was the girl that Bitty found crying in his café a little over two years ago. She was in Providence on a student visa and when she found out she was pregnant she thought her dreams of becoming a neurosurgeon were over. Over a slice of Bitty’s homemade cherry pie, she shared all of her hopes and dreams, and Bitty wasn’t going to let anything in this world stop her from achieving them.

Keep reading

Cry with me - Part 1

Whether they are tears of laughter or tears of pain may depend on the person, but I promise you will probably experience both.

Join me in diving into the totally bizarre world of The 100 books in which the Bellamy Blake as we know him would cry tears of humiliation and perhaps the occasional bout of awe at the things his AU self says.

I honestly can’t NOT bring to attention some of these gems that truly demonstrate how vastly different book!Bellamy and show!Bellamy are so let me get down to listing actual quotes from book!Bellamy himself.

1. 

“Is he your boyfriend?” Bellamy pressed.
“No,” Clarke said flatly. But then her mouth twitched into a questioning smile. “Why do you care?”
“Just taking a census,” Bellamy replied. “Specifically, to determine the relationship status of all the pretty girls on Earth.” [listen to this guy]

2. That’s what Bellamy liked best about Earth - the unexpectedness. Like a girl who kept you guessing. He’d always been drawn to the ones he couldn’t quite figure out. [listen to this lil fucker]

3.“Off you go,” Bellamy said, motioning her forward with his hands. He watched her scurry off with satisfaction. [This fUcKER]

4. “Breaking news, pretty boy.” Bellamy winked. “We’re all criminals here.” [WINKING. PRETTY BOY. I CAN’T]

5. “Good afternoon, ladies.” [please pause for a moment and try to picture show!Bellamy sauntering into Clarke’s tent and saying this line - just please TRY]

6. Bellamy didn’t know why the ancient humans even bothered doing drugs. What was the point of shooting junk into your veins when walking through the forest had the same effect? [he’s such a cliche]

7. He’d always assumed those ancient poets had been full of shit, or at least had much better drugs than he’d ever tried

Originally posted by vlociraptor

8. A crack sounded from inside the woods. Bellamy spun around so quickly, he lost his balance and fell backward with a splash. [smooth bruh]

9. Bellamy brought his hands behind his head and tilted his face toward the sun, exhaling as the warmth seeped into his skin. It was almost as nice as being in bed with a girl. Maybe even better, because the sun would never ask him what he was thinking. […]

10. “You’re doing a great job for a quack.”

11. 

“I’d recommend putting your shirt back on.” (Clarke)
“Why? Are you worried you won’t be able to control yourself? Because if you’re concerned about my virtue, I have to tell you, I’m not-”
“I meant”-she cut him off with a small smile- “there are some poisonous plants out here that could make that pretty back of yours erupt with pus-filled boils.”
He shrugged. “For all I know, that might be your thing, doctor girl. I’ll take my chances.”

12. “I know you’re not the type of girl to make out with random guys in the woods,” he’d said with a mischievous grin, “but maybe you should be.” [i cAnT]

13. “Well, hello there,” he said as she came to a stop and paused to catch her breath. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?” He stepped forward and placed his hand on her waist [omg stop]

14. “I thought you were different. But I was wrong. You’re just another stupid Phoenix bitch who thinks she knows better than everyone else.” [this is the part where you cringe and cry and thank the TV lords that show!Bellamy would never even think of breathing such terrible words to Clarke Griffin, or probably anyone else for that matter]

15. “You’re going to regret this,” Bellamy said in a low, dangerous voice.

16. He’d start with letting the bastards starve. Then, maybe when they were all so weak with hunger that they had to crawl over to him and beg for forgiveness, then he’d consider going out to hunt. But they’d have to make do with a squirrel or something small - no way was he killing a deer for them. [this is some next-level petty shit - he’s talking about the deinquents btw]

17. Over the past few weeks, he’d discovered that he enjoyed the company of trees more than people. [k but tbh same]

18. Perhaps Earth had had enough of their bullshit already and was initiating a second nuclear winter. [k this isn’t really a noteworthy quote but its too real :0]

19. Tears were beginning to blur his vision, although if anyone called him out on it, he’d blame it on the smoke. [okay mister tough guy]

20. “Okay then.” He took a step forward and gestured for her to follow. “But I should warn you … I’ll probably take my shirt off at some point.”

So there you: Bellamy Blake Book 1. I intend to do the other two books I have read at some point as well. Hope you enjoyed! Lol. Tell me what you think of this Bellamy vs the one we know and love.

Mysme headcanon in which the RFA+ V meet MC in the hospital -before the events of mystic messenger- in which she is treated for cancer

I don’t know why, but I thought that this scenario would be very interesting. Fluff and and Angst, but mostly fluff :)

Zen:
-he meets you while waiting for the MRT after he broke his ankle again.
-You both sit in the waiting hall
-There is a woman with her little boy and he is crying because he’s afraid of the doctor
-You stand up and walk over to the boy.
- you get to your knees and make some of your best cartoon character impressions, which makes the boy laugh and forget about his worries.
-Even the other patients in the room all stifle a laugh and the whole depressing mood lightens up.
-Zen is captured by your heart right in this moment.
- he wants to talk to you but the doctor comes in and calls you.
-He notices you wearing a pink bracelet.
- A nurse notices him staring at you as you leave and explains him that this special bracelet means that you’re having cancer.
- it breaks his heart since he can’t believe how cheerful you are even though you’re this sick.
- he never gets to meet you again after this because you and him have different therapy schedules
-he doesn’t even know it’s you when you first join the RFA (since you never send a picture of you) but your warm heart reminds you of this girl he once met
-When he sees you on the day you go over to his apartment, he almost falls over, knowing that this time, he can never let you go again.


Jumin:
-Since his father is the best friend of the head of a clinic (as shown in the special ending) he visits the facilities from time to time
-One day, he walks into the yard and hears some low meowing
-He follows the noise, only to find you sitting on the grass and feeding a stray cat mom with her little kitten
- since he is definitely convinced that animals can feel the soul of a human, he knows that you’re an incredible kind person.
-He wants to talk to you but gets called by his father, who was looking for him.
-As he leaves, both of your gazes meet and you brush one of your hair strands behind your ear, revealing the pink bracelet of yours
-Jumin later asks the head of the clinic what the bracelet means and as soon as he learns about it, he starts donating money to Cancer Foundations
-thinks about you whenever he sees a stray cat
-When you join the RFA, the two of you connect over your love for animals and he is unconsciously drawn to you
-When he sees you standing at his doorstep, he remembers the day he first met you, as do you
- he knows that you’re the person that can untangle the knot of threads in his heart and also knows that his first impression of you was on point: besides Elisabeth the 3rd, there is no creature as pure as you and he loves you with all his heart.

Yoosung:
-His sister is in the hospital because of an agressive virus
- he is not allowed to be in her room, because of the quarantine, so he starts wandering down the hallway
- is super worried about his sister and starts crying as soon as he is alone in a corner
- at least he thinks he is alone but then he hears you hiding in another corner across the room
- you just got your diagnosis and needed to breathe for a moment.
-You both just stare at each other and then both start crying, giving each other comfort through letting it all out
-Neither of you speak and before he can finally say something to you, his mother calls him.
-You both wave your silent good byes and he sees your pink bracelet
-When he asks the nurse about it, she explains to him what it means and he is incredibly embarrassed for crying in front of you even though your diagnosis was so much worse
-when you join the RFA the two of you call each other daily and are both attracted to each other since you feel like you share some kind of intimacy - not knowing why
- when the two of you meet, he hugs you tightly in front of everyone at the party, having changed so much and promising to you that he will forever be your shoulder to cry on.

Jaehee:
-Collapsed at work due to poor eating habits and sleep deprivation
-You share a room at the hospital and realise that you’re both fans of Zen
-You bond instantly.
-When you come back from your treatment, you lock yourself up in the bathroom because of the bad nausea that the chemotherapie caused you.
-After you leave the bathroom again, you smile as bright as before and tell her that you were able to bring a DVD of Zen’s musical into the hospital.
-Jaehee asks you about your bracelet and tell her your diagnosis
-You keep joking around and she is in awe of your strength and promises herself that she will work to become as strong as you.
- when you convince her to leave C&R she tells you that you remind her of a woman she had met before that was just as strong as you.
-When you both meet for the first time, she knows that you’re the person that she wants to start her business with.
- after your first kiss, she tells you that this strong person that she admired for so long, has always and forever been you.

Seven:
-Has to go to the hospital because of a wound that he got on one of his missions (under a different name of course)
- he meets you at the yard where he sees you pulling out a pack of honey Buddha chips from your bag.
- he also sees you hiding it as soon as you think a doctor or a nurse is walking by
-He thinks it’s super funny and keeps watching you from a distance.
-Then he notices the bracelet and hacks into the hospital database because of course he does
- finds out that you’ve got cancer and from this day on, he can’t stop looking at you
- he loves it to see you laugh
-He never talks to you tho, as he doesn’t want to get attached to anybody because of his whole life
- on his last day, he sends Vanderwood over to get you one of your honey Buddha chips - stack from his home.
-Hacks into the hospital database again to see your exact therapy schedule and waits for you to leave your room.
-He sneaks in and places the stack of chips in your drawer without a note, not really knowing why he did it in the first place
- when he does the background check on you on the first day, he convinces you to stay because HE wants you to stay. Still not knowing why
-He looks out for you every day from there on
-When he runs over to Rikas apartment, he knows he’s in too deep already and tries to keep you at bay, we all know how well that went
-Makes sure you get the best treatment in world
-He will never tell you that it was him that placed the chips in your drawer, it is his little secret and he will take it to his grave
-He will always love you, since he knows that he started doing so a long time ago


V:
-Meets you on one of his eye treatments
- the hospital bought a photography from him
- when he walks down the hallway, he sees you smiling at his picture.
-He takes out his phone and captures a photo with it, mesmerised by the raw emotion you show while looking at his work
-But reminds him so much of his first encounter with Rikas that it almost breaks his heart
- he wants to turn around and walk away but then he sees you pulling out a little sheet of paper and scribbling on it, before you tuck it behind the picture frame
- he waits until you’re gone and silently takes the little paper note
- it is a small letter to the photographer of this picture and he starts crying as he reads it.
- it gives him the energy to continue living
-to continue being
- he always reads all the chats, even though he rarely participates
-you invite the eye specialist that Jumin talked about, to the party and convince him to undergo further treatment to fully see again
-when he asks you to marry him, he hands you the photo he took, back then.
- even though it has been captured on a phone camera, it his still his favourite picture in the world
- he tells you that while he always wanted to be Rikas sun, he now knows that in his whole universe there always and forever can only be one sun: you. And that he wants to radiate around you for the rest of his life

ICHF Key Concepts: The Four Horrors

I’ve been writing Iconic Characters of Horror Fiction articles for over a year to a modest amount of success, and in that time I’ve covered a lot of strange territory - both in the number of different characters I’ve written about, and in the number of weird personal theories about them and the horror genre in general that I’ve shared in the process.  While I feel I’ve barely scratched the surface of what I want to do with this series, I have come to the point where I feel some of those weird theories need their own article.  So allow me to present to you the first ICHF Key Concept article!  And what better to start off with than my moderately popular genre taxonomy: the Four Horrors.

When it comes to Academic literary criticism, the horror genre is mostly uncharted territory.  I was fortunate to have a college that offered two courses on horror literature - I mean, they both focused almost exclusively on British horror literature that was published before the 20th century, but y'know, baby steps and progress and all that.  One of the things I was surprised to learn in those courses was that, as far as literary critics are concerned, there is no distinction between Gothic Horror and Horror in general - all horror is gothic, apparently.  As an amateur scholar of horror stories, I felt that was INCREDIBLY wrong, and so I began working on a more accurate description of the horror genre - one that allows for more diversity.  One that recognizes multiple modes of horror.  A taxonomy, if you will.

I ultimately settled on dividing Horror into four main subgenres, each of which can be divided into even more subgenres on top of that.  Let’s find out more about them, shall we?

Gothic Horror

We’ll start with the only officially recognized horror genre, the Gothic.  Part of the reason I protest it as the ONLY form of horror is that, according to literary critics, it’s a very narrowly defined genre - one that cannot contain all the horror stories we’ve come up with in our history.

Gothic Horror demonizes the old, primitive, and ancient parts of our history.  The horror in a Gothic story comes from the past - a crime committed in the olden days, or an ancient evil that has survived despite the passing of time.  In Gothic horror stories, evil is something that humanity has to grow out of - it its destroyed by progress and discovery.

Monsters in Gothic Horror stories tend to be either undead creatures (like ghosts, zombies, vampires, etc.), mythological monsters (dragons, sphinxes, etc.), or humans that are turned into a more “primitive” creature (Mr. Hyde, Werewolves, etc.).  Decay and degeneration are the main tools of Gothic Horror - the audiences is presented with vivid images of rotting bodies, both literal and metaphorical.  Evil is defeated in Gothic horror stories by uncovering the truth and civilizing the old world - society must progress to keep the dead wickedness of the past buried.

Some of the subgenres of Gothic Horror include Ghost Stories (where the spirit of a deceased person must be put to rest by discovering the horror that killed them in the past), Vampire Fiction (stories with vampires in them), and the Imperial Gothic.  The later is particularly interesting to me and relevant to my Four Horrors concept, as the Imperial Gothic is sort of the bridge between Gothic Horror and the other three horror genres.  You see, while the Imperial Gothic still claims that horror is rooted in the past, it adds on the idea that said horror is being brought back to the present BECAUSE our “progress” in the present is, in fact, a barbaric retread of our ancestors’ mistakes.  It claims that modern man is backsliding, and the old defeated horrors of yesteryear will roam free as a result.  Other horror stories will take the genre even further from there.

Detective Fiction also has its roots in Gothic Horror stories, but whether it still counts as a horror genre or evolved into its own animal altogether is debatable.  I personally wouldn’t count most detective tales as horror stories, but it’s interesting to note their connection.

Examples of Gothic Horror Stories: The Castle of Otranto, Frankenstein, Dracula, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, “The Yellow Wallpaper,” “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

Cosmic Horror

Cosmic Horror was the first horror genre to split off from the Gothic entirely (in this little concept of mine, which is not law).  In many ways, it seems similar to its parent.  Heroes in Cosmic Horror stories often try to uncover the truth behind a supernatural mystery, and it often involves exploring some horrifying and primitive relics of the past.  However, while uncovering the truth solves things in a Gothic horror tale, it only makes things worse in a Cosmic Horror story.

Cosmic Horror does not demonize the past.  Instead, it demonizes existence itself.  The universe is a cold, uncaring place that is beyond human comprehension, and as such it is also beyond caring for humanity.  Evil is rooted in the very fabric of reality, and built into the utter apathy and indifference our world has for us.  Madness, confusion, and miscomprehension are the main tools of these stories - our ability to see the world around us and not understand the meaning of it keeps the reader ill at ease, especially when that world grows increasingly awful and terrifying.

The main monster of a Cosmic Horror story is the… *sigh* eldritch abomination, whose good name as an archetype has been sullied by people applying it to any and all monsters.  At one point, though, eldritch abomination was a phrase that meant something - specifically, a “monster” whose anatomy and nature cannot truly be comprehended by human minds, one who is almost thoughtlessly destructive simply because we are utterly insignificant to it.

We’re probably going to need a new word for that archetype soon, since people seem to love calling any and all monsters that are even remotely strange “eldritch abominations” these days.

Cosmic horror stories rarely offer their heroes a way out - if one does manage to defeat the evil, it is always temporary, and the hero is generally scarred beyond repair by the experience if they survive at all.  One is only safe from the horror if one is ignorant of it - and even then, “safe” only lasts as long as the horror remains ignorant of us as well.

Examples of Cosmic Horror Stories: The Cthulhu Mythos stories, most Slender Man stories, Burrgrr, Awful Hospital, Hellstar Remina, Uzumaki, The Thing

Atomic Horror

When the Imperial Gothic Horror genre suggested that our progress may be unleashing the horrors of the past, it laid the seeds for the third main horror genre to blossom.  Atomic Horror takes things a step further by suggesting our progress will make its own evils - evils the likes of which humanity could never have experienced in the past, for they could only be made by unleashing the newfound powers of modern technology.

In other words, evil is rooted in the present/future in an Atomic Horror story, rather than in the past like in a Gothic tale.  Many Atomic Horror stories try to temper this aspect of their genre by emphasizing that progress is only bad when it is unchecked and uncontrolled - while scientists may make a monster, they can also be the ones to find a way to stop it.  The progress in question doesn’t have to be scientific, either - industrial development schemes or military campaigns are just as likely to create a monster in Atomic Horror as a mad scientist’s experiments.

There are (at least) four main monster archetypes in Atomic Horror stories: the Prehistoric Monster (creatures from the past that are taken out of their rightful time and place by humanity - an archetype that Atomic Horror took from Gothic Horror stories and made its own), the Mutant (a creature that is made by humanity meddling with nature), the Robot (a machine that can operate without human assistance, often with deadly purposes), and the Alien (a creature from another world - often acting as a dark mirror of humanity, showing us how awful we could end up if we don’t change our ways).  Mutation and dissection are the main tools of Atomic Horror stories - we are horrified to find that our “progress” requires us to destroy the current world to build an awful new one in its place.

To stop evil in an Atomic Horror story, one has to change the way humanity is progressing - either stopping the progress itself, changing its direction, or simply reining it in a bit.  We have to rethink what we are doing and consider the effects we have on the world we run - or else the end will always have a question mark.

Two of the subgenres within Atomic Horror include the Alien Invasion Genre, where monsters from outer space invade earth with superior technology, and the Kaiju Genre, where humanity is attacked by a literally gargantuan monster because of our violation of the natural order.  Kaiju stories sometimes leave the horror genre altogether, but I personally think most still stay within its boundaries.

Examples of Atomic Horror Stories: Godzilla, Them!, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, The War of the Worlds (1953 film), The Blob, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Fly


Slasher Horror

Finally, we have Slasher Horror.  Born out of the exploitation films of the 70’s an 80’s, Slasher Horror doesn’t focus on the past or the future very much.  While it shares an existential dread with Cosmic Horror, it looks inward for evil rather than outward.  It’s not the universe that is evil, necessarily, but rather humanity itself.  Something in the human condition is sick, twisted, and, with rare exception, predisposed to wickedness.  Slasher Horror holds one thing as true: humanity needs to be punished, and oh how cathartic it is to watch that punishment unfold.

Slasher horror demonizes humanity itself, and it does so by presenting a cast of almost completely unlikeable and one dimensional characters.  Humans aren’t necessarily moustache-twirlingly evil in Slasher stories, but they are selfish to a ludicrous extent.  They ignore drowning children, have sex even as their friends are being slaughtered in the next room, and rarely trade words with each other that aren’t petty insults.  When a character is introduced in a Slasher story, they are almost certainly designed to make you desire their death.

However, there is generally an attempt at making an exception to this rule in most Slasher stories.  You will normally find at least one character who is unique in that they care about other people and, y'know, aren’t shitty human beings.  This is your hero, and they have the enviable task of stepping over a very low bar to become the least wretched person in your story.

“Monsters” are rare in slasher stories, as most tend to go for an anonymous killer instead - some ominous masked man who picks off the other awful people one by one, often in increasingly preposterous ways.  When one of these killers survives long enough, they may gain an identity - and since this tends to involve surviving several definitely lethal injuries, they often become undead monsters as well.

The main tool of the slasher movie is gore.  Splattering organs, buckets of blood, and impossible wounds are the gross out of choice, and often play less like horrifying scenes and more like money shots in a porno.  Slasher Horror is all about catharsis - while other stories may want to horrify you, Slasher tales let you indulge your darker desires for a time.

Evil is defeated in a slasher movie when the hero loses almost everything and, in desperation, finally snaps and raises a hand against the awful nature of humanity - in a literal fashion, i.e. by killing the slasher.  This violent act may also be why few heroes in Slasher stories survive coming back for a sequel - by killing the slasher, they have become another wicked person who selfishly put their own life above others.

Examples of Slasher Horror Stories: The Halloween series, the Texas Chainsaw Massacre series, Friday the 13th series, the A Nightmare on Elm Street series, the Saw series, Behind the Mask: the Rise of Leslie Vernon, the Scream series

The Axis of the Four Horrors

skeletonphonic was the first to make an axis out of my four horror genres, so credits go to him for the idea for this visual.

If you look at my four horror genres, you can see that there are two pairs of apparent opposites.  Gothic Horror vilifies the past, while Atomic Horror villifies the future.  Cosmic Horror claims the universe is evil, while Slasher Horror claims evil is inherent to humanity itself.  We could use this axis to try and force existing horror stories into one of these four genres - for example, the more a story vilifies humanity, the more Slasher it is.  Simple, right?

Well… no.  See, these pairs aren’t actually opposites.  A story can vilify the past AND the present - hell, that’s basically what the Imperial Gothic does.  Likewise, humanity being evil doesn’t necessarily mean that the universe itself isn’t evil too.  A horror story could hit all four points on the axis.

If one were to graph horror stories on this axis, I think it would be smart not to do it with a simple point.  Instead, show how far a given story stretches in each direction - some may lie firmly in one direction, while others may stretch into two, or three, or even all four.  It could be an interesting experiment for more mathematically included horror scholars than myself to try.

Problems with the Four Horrors

While I obviously like this little division of the horror genres, and have found it very useful in my writing about Horror in general, I can’t say it’s flawless.  It’s mostly based on Western literature, specifically English language literature, and as such there are A LOT of horror stories out there that could theoretically not fit anywhere on this axis.  That’s a major problem that I can’t address entirely on my own - even a glutton like myself could never read every horror story ever made, or even MOST of the horror stories ever made.

Academics might also argue that my division is forced.  A lot of Slasher and Cosmic Horror stories have an evil of the past as part of their story - the murder of Jason Voorhees, the ancient cult of Cthulhu, etc.  We could force them into the Gothic, and then kick Atomic Horror stories out of the Horror genre and into Science Fiction (which a lot of critics do).  I think that’s too simplistic, but y'know, I’m not God.  I’m just a weirdo who thinks too much about horror stories.

There are other taxonomies as well.  Some have divided horror into Supernatural and Radcliffian tales - Supernatural Horror has a horror that is, obviously, supernatural, while Radcliffian Horror reveals that the horror was man-made all along (think Scooby Doo).  Others have divided Horror into Thrillers and Creature Features - Thrillers involve a mundane, realistic threat, while Creature Features have monsters in them.  Or we could divide horror between its two sibling genres, Sci-Fi and Fantasy - Sci-Fi Horror, Fantasy Horror, and Mundane Horror for those tales that don’t have a supernatural element.  There are probably a billion ways we can divide the genre.

But the Four Horrors work for me, and they’ve helped form ICHF into what it is.  They won’t be leaving this blog any time soon.

(For those interested in the little mascots I made for this essay, here are their names: Count Gothic, Cthon Cosmic, Doctor Atomic, and Sam Slasher.)