I really want a fandom internet friend. So we can fangirl together, facetime and talk about our problems. I want to talk to a person from a different counrty so I can learn about them. I want to feel like I should just get to a plain and see them.
Imagine a UNIT era modern day AU where the Doctor discovers Facebook:
He immediately sends friend requests to everyone at UNIT. The Brigadier doesn’t really understand social media (he only uses it to keep up with family stuff) but he’s very good at clicking the delete button. The Doctor is undeterred and continues to send him friend requests.
One day the Brigadier has to tell him exasperatedly, “Doctor, you can’t publicly list your education as ‘Time Lord Academy’.”
On another occasion he has to tell him to take down the picture he posted of the First Doctor that was captioned, “And here’s me in my younger days.” “I suppose this means you’ll want me remove that photograph taken during the Omega incident that said, ‘Hanging out with myself’,” the Doctor sighs.
The Doctor tries to sound cool on the internet but doesn’t because he keeps using memes that haven’t been invented yet. No one has any idea what he’s talking about and internet-savvy Jo is perpetually embarrassed.
The Master (under a paper-thin alias) stalks the Doctor’s page and likes all his posts in the hope that the Doctor will send him a friend request and he can have the satisfaction of declining it. The Doctor ignores him, but he does get a friend request from Sergeant Benton. Somehow the thought of declining that isn’t quite as satisfying.
“No, Doctor,” the Brigadier groans one morning when he sees his Facebook feed, “you cannot post… selfies… with a Dalek.” “Well if you don’t like mine, “ the Doctor replies, “just wait until you see Jo’s.”
David Tennant and Jessica Hynes in various television shows and movies down through the years
David and Jessica have appeared together in: - Randal and Hopkirk, Deceased - Doctor Who (Human Nature, Family of Blood, The End of Time) - Doctor Who Confidential - Learners - Nativity 2: Danger in the Manger - Twenty Twelve / W1A (David narrates but doesn’t appear)
Imagine carving pumpkins with the Superwholock team.
Dean: Cas what is that supposed to be?
Sherlock: I think that he was trying to carve all of us. **Cas nods**
Sam: And what’s your pumpkin carved as Sherlock?
Sherlock: It is supposed to be a crime scene…
Y/N: Okay where is the Doctor… He took his pumpkin into the Tardis and promptly vanished.
John: He muttered something about getting help from a friend.
**Tardis appears again. Eleventh Doctor pokes his head out**
The Doctor: Hello everyone, I visited a friend of mine and I know that we weren’t doing a contest but if we were I would win. **Sets his pumpkin down and carefully carved into it is one of Van Gough’s work.**
Y/N: You went back in time to see Vincent and you asked him if he could carve one of his works into your pumpkin… Yeah that’s cheating… Dean out of the pumpkin pie.
“Nick comes to the read-through with his ring modulator. And he sets up a little speaker and he sits there, and he patiently waits for the first Dalek line to come around, knowing that when it does and when it first booms across that read-through room he’s going to get a shiver of delight from everyone in the room.” - David Tennant, Doctor Who Confidential “Friends and Foe”
Supernatural taught me that family doesn’t end in blood.
Sherlock taught me that anyone can find a good friend.
Doctor who taught me that everyone is important.
Harry potter taught me that everyone is unique.
BUT THANK GOD SCHOOL TAUGHT ME HOW TO FIND THE SIDE OF A TRIANGLE.
WHAT AUTISM SPEAKS WON’T TELL YOU- Autism Speaks will tell you about a Tragic and Frightening epidemic called autism. They’ll tell you about the warning signs, the symptoms. They won’t tell you that autism and its traits aren’t something to fear, that autism is not a disease, it’s a neurotype and that different neurotype does not equal defective human being. They’ll tell you how hard autism is- on the parents and relatives of autistic people. What they will fail to mention is that it can be pretty damn hard to actually be an autistic person in a world where everyone from strangers to doctors to trusted friends and family members might treat you like more of a burden than anything else, like more of an inconvenience than a person. What they will fail to mention is that yes, autism is hard to cope with, but it can also be amazing at times. My memory for detail allows me to recall the first 28 digits of pi-3.141592653589793238462643383- and every breed of domesticated cat recognized by The International Cat Association which I will not recite right now because people usually stop listening about 20 breeds in. When I love something, I love it with every fiber of my being, every bone in my body. When I love something it drives me to keep going, it becomes my whole world. If I wasn’t autistic I wouldn’t love so deeply, I wouldn’t look at the big picture and get caught up in the beauty of every tiny detail. I wouldn’t be me without my autism. Autism speaks won’t tell you that autism is neither a curse nor a gift but just another part of who we are, or that autistic people are not in fact trapped by our autism- if anything, we’re trapped by the way Autism Speaks and those like them perceive us. Autism speaks won’t tell you that autism does speak, not through them but through the countless autistic people who they treat like walking tragedies.
having a disability does not invalidate your love for boys
i know that doctors and therapists and parents and friends and teachers and everyone else will try to say that your disability caused you to be gay, that youre just confused, that if you were cured of your illness then you wouldnt be gay anymore, but they are lying
you can exist both as gay and disabled
i know that it may be hard to believe this some days, i know it can feel like the world is against you, i know that it hurts… but being gay is valid. being disabled is valid. and your love is just as pure and true as any abled persons love.
When I first started my transition to male-hood, I was asked a lot of questions which, in retrospect, felt a lot like prerequisites. There seemed to be a certain quota I had to meet, an expectation set in place in order for me to “prove” that I was man enough. Man enough to inject hormones into my skin every week. Man enough to undergo life changing surgeries and change my name and face, the very foundations of my identity on a social level. And these expectations, these questions I came to know so well, were asked by everyone. My friends, my family, my therapists, my doctors. These questions insinuated that there was a direct connection from my gender to my genitals.
Now ten years down the line I’m reflecting on how my situation was handled and realized I’m not entirely happy with it. I think what we require of trans folk, on an emotional level to prove themselves is a bit awful and it actually breeds a certain sexism and self loathing that, as a community of supposedly “queer folk” we should be fighting against.
Let me break it down.
When I first started realizing that I was more boy than girl (I was quite young at the time) I naturally started to do some research, and that research actually put me off a little. I knew from an early age that I wanted to live life as a man. In my mind and my heart, that seemed like a fairly simple thing. If I was a man, then I was a man, and at the time and my age, I didn’t even consider it might effect what I kept in my pants. But when I started looking into the process I needed to go through to achieve this reality I felt so deeply, I started to doubt myself because while I wasn’t looking in my underwear, the world was. I saw those prerequisites I mentioned and balked.
What do you mean I have to hate myself? What do you mean I have to fear and loathe my body and its genitals? What do you mean I have to be ridiculously depressed and anxious and want to claw my own skin off and hate having sex and shun every mirror I saw and never touch a finger to myself again let alone anyone else intimately touch me. Why was the world demanding that I hate my genitals?
I didn’t think genitals had anything to do with gender. Wasn’t that the whole point of this safe space we’ve created for the LGBTQ community? Shouldn’t my gender therapists and doctors, friends and family, support this? These were the things impressed on me. These were the things expected of me in order to prove that I needed, without doubt, to live life as a man. I had to want a penis.
And yes, I did hate my body, because it wasn’t a body that society saw as a man. But what I came to learn later was that had nothing to do with my genitals and the kind of sex I wanted to have. I hated that people told me I needed to hate my genitals in order to be a man. And honestly, I did begin to hate what was between my legs, I learned to, because it was what was expected. Transitioning is very much a journey into the unknown and I relied on the advice and guidance of others to help me through it, and so I simply trusted that they were right. Even though it didn’t feel right for me.
Our genitals do not dictate our gender and while I might have hated my body because it didn’t allow me to be seen by society as a man, that had nothing to do with my genitals and my sex life. I would like to see more separation between these things, because your genitals should not decide your gender and we should not be teaching the trans youth that this is a necessary emotion. There are women out there with penises and men out there with vaginas and that’s ok. And I’m not trying to devalue anyone’s struggle because all of our struggles are different. There certainly are folks out there who struggle with hating their genitals because it’s not what they want and they have every right to have what they need to feel good in their body.
But who I am presented to the world, my name, my face, the gender I check off on every form I fill, the suit I don when I go to work, the anguish I felt when I still had breasts and a soft face without so much as a single stubble has nothing to do with what’s between my legs, what I call it, and what I like to do with it.
And I wish someone had told me that a long time ago. I wish someone had told me I was man enough, and that I deserved to be a man, even though I didn’t want a penis. I wish someone had reminded me that no matter who you are, whether your trans or not, no one should ever tell you you’re not man or woman enough because your genitals are different than your gender.
The Doctor had grown up seeing everyone around him find their soulmates. His friend would draw on their skin, write a message, and get a message back. It wasn’t fair. He never got a message back. He tried every day until he was about fifteen, and then he’d just given up. All he used his skin for now was to scribble down appointments, times, dates…he’d lost hope of ever finding his soulmate. Until that one day when he saw the pattern.