there is too many corpses on tv

Institute Facts According to X6-88
  • Greed and materialism don’t exist in the Institute. (okay)
  • The Advanced Systems division had plans for a vehicle like this. It ended up being more trouble than it was worth. (I think this in reference to the submarine)
  • The Institute’s founders frowned on television. They thought it was a detriment to science. (choosing to interpret this as “grad students were spending too many nights getting high and watching loony tunes)
  • Some of the scientists enjoy filmed entertainment. I have no use for it.  (INSTITUTE MOVIE NIGHT IS CANON)
  • Why store corpses? This space could be put to more efficient use. (institute cremates?)
  • I was told a great writer once lived here. I’m not sure how anyone that wasn’t a scientist can be considered great. (for a long time, i interpreted this as “the institute frowns upon creative expression” but then i realized that x6 is actually just way too into scientists.  missed storyline potential: rescue this awful man from the institute)
  • The medicine that was practiced here is almost barbaric compared to the Institute’s advances. 
  • A place for infant humans. I’ve only seen one once. It was unsettling.  (in response to a nursery.  assuming the institute has a communal nursery.)
  • We sometimes find older-model synth parts in places like this. Scavengers are a constant threat to our surface work teams. (I think this one triggers in a warehouse.)
  • Doctor Karlin thinks the world’s oceans are probably filled with huge, mutated sea creatures.
  • People killed each other for food here. The Institute will never have those kinds of problems.
  • The SRB monitors all radio broadcasts in the Commonwealth. We think the Railroad might be sharing coded messages that way.
  • A single Institute holotape could hold all of the text in this library.
  • All of these computers put together wouldn’t match the processing power of one Institute terminal.
  • I’ve never understood this game. If the objective is to destroy the pins, why not just shoot them? (no bowling in the institute?  or, just as likely, synths aren’t allowed to have fun.)
  • The Robotics division did something like this once.  (I think this one is in reference to the place where they race and bet on robots)
  • One of the scientists in Advanced Systems tried to figure out how this boat could have ended up here.  Eventually, he just gave up (in reference to the uss constitution)
  • The older sections of the Institute look a lot like this.  (corvega)
  • I used to come here for target practice.  (the amphitheater.  i wonder how often coursers are allowed to go to the surface?  do they mostly stay up there?  or do they mostly stay in the institute?)
  • We send scavenger teams to places like this to collect chemicals.
  • Learning from books? Not exactly efficient
  • In the Institute, we’ve advanced far beyond books. Children learn from interactive terminals.

The Futurama episode “Jurassic Bark” is perhaps the only cartoon you can admit to full on bawling at as an adult and not having people judge you. … It’s an episode that made many people ask, “How is it I can cry at a comedic science fiction cartoon, but I can’t express my feelings to my friends and family?” Well, get your Zoloft out, because the episode was originally going be about Fry finding the body of his mom. … Unsurprisingly, this premise got the ax after the writers realized that Fry dragging his mom’s fossilized corpse around New New York would be “too upsetting” to viewers.

5 Scrapped Episodes That Almost Ruined Famous TV Shows

penaltywaltz  asked:

Sherlolly or Warstan?

While I do love Warstan, I’m gonna go with Sherlolly!

This ship has completely overtaken my life, ever since she asked him out after she watched him beat a corpse with a riding crop in 12 February 2012. I see Sherlolly everywhere––in songs, in movies and other TV shows, in overheard conversations, etc. It was also the first ship that made me write fanfics, which ended seven years of writer’s block. I also met so many lovely and talented people in this fandom.

Plus…

He’s staring at her when she’s not even looking…

They seem so comfortable with each other in the lab. I bet they’re drift-compatible…

“What do you need?”

“You.”

The unforgettable Sherlolly kiss, of course!

That (way too short) locker room scene…

“You’re not being John. You’re being yourself.”

She’s chastising him with one look…

Just look at that sad smile and tender gaze…

Someone’s lurking…

“Oh, I see! You give me the big dark eyes, and the deep, deep voice, and I’m supposed to lie for you.”

I mean, Sherlolly is the OTP to end all OTPs for me!

[All images are my screenshots/edits.]

*clears throat as she tries to compose herself*

Sorry, @penaltywaltz, that this reply took a while. TGIT/HollowBones/TVD and trying to write down why I’d choose Sherlolly over Warstan don’t exactly make a great combination. *wink wink*

Q was a lingerie model when he was younger and Bond finds the pictures in an old magazine at a mark’s house. Later when he’s thinking about them, he finds himself fantasizing about his dorky Q and not the lithe, sexy Q on the magazine – anon

I love this! Lex, with Jen-related interference.

“Found anything?” Q asked over his headset.

Bond narrowly avoided choking after a puff of dust made its way up from a box, honestly in a rather nightmarish mood. “This place can’t have been cleaned in years…” he muttered disparagingly, debating the urge to kick things out of sheer malice.

“I’ll just give Kim and Aggie a buzz shall I?” Q quipped, R snorting at the reference behind him. “You’re there to find arms contracts, not do a health and safety check.”

“…Who the hell are Kim and Aggie?” Bond managed, thumbing through the closest box.

Q rolled his eyes. “You don’t watch nearly enough daytime junk TV,“ Q told him. "Look, you’ve only got a short window, Bond, kindly find something useful quickly.”

Bond continued, pulling out bits of broken furniture and receipts in copious quantities. Beneath them, buried in a haphazard pile, was a set of old CK lingerie magazines; Bond pulled them out, hoping to find something hidden in or below the stack.

As he did so, the cover of one made him stop.

There was something remarkably familiar about the dark haired, waif like creature looking at him from the front page.

“Q?!” he spluttered.

“Yes Bond? Have you found something?” Q said quickly, sounding very urgent.

Bond just stared in mild awe at his (beautiful) Quartermaster. “No… no, sorry, nothing.”

The man was slim, but muscles well defined (even if photoshop had been employed). He was wearing nothing more than a pair of very tight boxers and an incredibly sexy smirk, the type Bond tended to love wiping off him in spectacular style. There was a sort of androgynous beauty to him, something otherworldly in the way his green eyes shone out from the cover.

Bond could see why the mark had kept it; it was breathtaking.

“Bond? Bond you’ve got ten minutes,” Q informed him, snapping him out of his daze.

“Understood.”

Hours later, Bond lay in his hotel bed, TV chattering inanely in the background.

His mission brief lay open on the table, giving him too much of a headache to think about at the moment. The day had proved frustrating, but ultimately successful. He had found very little in the house, but the garden had been another matter… Really, there were only so many ways to hide weaponry. Or corpses. Bond would be going home in the morning.

Home to MI6, to paperwork and to an irate Q wanting his (now broken) equipment back.

Q.

Bond closed his eyes, the image of Q on the front cover of the magazine fresh in his mind. He had been tempted to google him, but something told him that all images would have mysteriously vanished. Besides - he didn’t even know the man’s name. But that picture… Q’s perfectly formed body, slender shoulders, a thin trail of dark hair all the way down to an ill-disguised bulge…

Bond groaned, aware that he was getting hard. Thinking about his Quartermaster.

Shit.

Possibly not the most career enhancing mood, but god, that man’s body. Those cardigans were sinful for hiding it. The glasses, the mugs of tea, the way he ran hands through haphazard hair and tugged his cardigan sleeves over his hands when he was anxious and thought nobody noticed, the way stray crumbs would linger in the corner of his mouth, his voice before, during and after tea and/or coffee and the differences therein, the tired circles and clever hands, and…

Well.

Bond came harder than he had in a while, Q’s laugh scorched into him all the while.