#GIL: Asks

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Hi, is there anything that you've wanted to explain but never had the chance? (If not, feel free to ignore/delete this ask)

Perfectly Normal Regeneration Side Effects No One Warned You About

A lot of people ask about the process of regeneration and what happens when it goes drastically wrong—failed forms, limb loss, identity fractures, etc.

But curiously, no one's ever asked about what could be considered perfectly normal side effects. Because everyone knows about the usuals of amnesia, coma etc., but what about some of the other, more weird ones? The kinds of things that don't raise an eyebrow on Gallifrey, but would absolutely send a human reeling?

These side effects are harmless and temporary, just a display of your Time Lord undergoing the proper due process.

✨ 1. The Glow Phase

Yes, that's meant to be glowing. Probably.

In the hours after regeneration, Gallifreyans are flooded with artron and lindos energy—both highly reactive and bioactive. Which raises an important (and slightly gross) question: do bodily fluids glow?

Yes. Probably.

Urine and stools may become unusually orange, iridescent, or faintly luminescent.

Vomit can also glow, especially if expelled rapidly.

Sweat, tears, and saliva may shimmer subtly in certain lighting conditions.

This typically lasts up to 15 hours post-regeneration and is harmless (if unsettling).

🌈 2. Post-Regeneration Sensory Overload

Everything feels wrong.

Every regenerated body builds a new sensory framework from scratch. Since no two incarnations process input the same way, early hours can include:

Synaptic overlap – senses miswire or fuse (e.g., tasting colours)

Hypersensitivity – breathing hurts, red is too bright, socks feel itchy

Delayed perception – reality may arrive half a second late and feel emotionally charged

This usually resolves in 1–3 days.

🦷 3. That Doesn't Belong There

Your body's trying its best.

Regeneration reconstructs every cell in your body based on your biomorphic template and biodata—but it's not an exact science.

Sometimes structures appear in the wrong place. Imagine:

A tooth on your thigh

A second uvula in the left ear

Eyelashes growing on the knuckles

In 98% of cases, the body repositions the misplaced tissues automatically once the lindos cells finish their internal sweep within 8 hours. In the other 2% of cases you might need to schedule a visit to the hospitallers.

🪞 4. Seeing Your Past Self in the Mirror

Also normal. No need to scream.

Immediately post-regeneration, psychic residue from the previous form may sometimes interfere with visual self-perception. The reflection may temporarily appear as:

Your previous self

A future version of your current self

Someone you've never seen but somehow recognise

This is probably due to residual biodata echoes, especially in Time Lords with strong memory cohesion or traumatic deaths.

It likely is intermittent and fades in under a week.

🧍 5. Post-Regenerative Dyspraxia

Nothing is where it used to be.

Just imagine you wake up one morning with different-length limbs, larger hands, and much-smaller feet, but your brain is still calibrated for the old model.

This disconnect results in a lot of clumsiness. Gallifreyan neuroplasticity is fast, so most regain full coordination within a few days. Until then, stairs are not recommended, and cups with handles may become an issue.

🏫 So...

Regeneration is miraculous. It's elegant. It's biological poetry. But it's also utter nonsense for a while, and no one talks about it.

Related:

💬|✨💥How do Gallifreyans prevent mutations and disorders during regeneration?: The role of lindos in the regenerative system and potential for problems.

💬|✨💥What is Post-Regenerative Trauma (PRT)?: Explaining the symptoms, causes, and treatments for PRT.

🤔|✨⚱️Regeneration: The Moulding Period

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜MasterpostIf you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

It's a fascinating idea, and I think you're spot on—regeneration likely feels like dying for a Time Lord because, biologically, it's their most vulnerable moment. it makes perfect evolutionary sense that a Time Lord feels an overwhelming sense of impending doom when it happens.

Evolutionarily, this would act as a survival instinct: an alarm to seek a secure, controlled environment for regeneration. Time Lords are resilient, but regeneration isn't foolproof, especially in dangerous or unstable environments. Ideally, they need a calm, oxygenated, stable environment, preferably without a companion screaming at them.

🧬 Why Seek Safety?

A stable, oxygenated environment helps keep regeneration from going haywire. Unstable conditions trigger the body's adaptation instinct, which can lead to mutations or burning through multiple bodies while trying and failing to stabilise. This is why regenerating in space or hostile alien atmospheres can be fatal.

Additionally, particularly stressful or traumatic regenerations can:

be more painful;

cause potential physical or mental issues in the new body;

significantly increase the severity of Post-Regenerative Trauma.

🛸The Best Place to Regenerate

The most ideal place to regenerate is in a TARDIS. Not only is it a stable environment, but its symbiotic link likely provides physical and emotional security, like being hugged during the ordeal, which can make them feel protected and comforted.

Related:

💬|✨💥What is Post-Regenerative Trauma (PRT)?: Explaining the symptoms, causes, and treatments for PRT.

💬|✨👽Do Time Lords get dysphoric about their regenerations?: Regeneration dysphoria and what to consider. 

🤔|✨👽What happens to the old body when a Gallifreyan regenerates?

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

The Doctor seeing regeneration like death makes so much sense biologically

The doctor feeling like he's dying when he regenerates isn't only a fitting metanarrative choice, but also a likely biological response.

When you have a heart attack, stroke and some other emergencies with the heart or brain (y'know, the instant death organs) you'll feel a sense of impending doom, technical term for the intuition that you are in fact going to die, right here, right now.

In short, whenever humans have the highest chance of death, they know. While I don't know what the evolutionary purpose of this mechanism is. It does make them reach out, get to a save place, lie down and try to give their system a chance to stabilize. So, it stands to reason that timelords have a similar intuition whenever they are at their highest chance of death.

And as we've seen with river, timelords can be killed if they are conventionally killed during their regeneration. Which makes it very likely that, just biologically, timelords (even the doctor for whom it might actually be a biological normality) feel a sense of impending doom whenever they regenerate. They feel, just as a biological reaction, that they will die in the conventional sense. To make them retreat into a save space, where they can regenerate without being killed for good.

Of course this is conjecture. I've not studied timelord biology. But maybe the @gallifreyinstituteforlearning knows more about this?

[crownedwithstars]

while I'm aware of the way Tolkien's views on Gil-galad's parentage shifted and Christopher Tolkien thought it was a mistake to make him Fingon's son in the published Silm, I personally prefer that version because that makes Gil-galad Nolofinwëan and the retrospective irony of it is so delicious and compelling.

I mean, the unrest of the Noldor culminates so much in the persons of Fëanor and Fingolfin, which Morgoth kept stoking so that they became more and more jealous and paranoid about one another, until one abandoned the other to face either icy death or burning shame. But that choice has a devastating consequence, because Fëanor ends up dying not five minutes after he's arrived in Middle-earth, and Fingolfin kinda sorta gets his revenge by eventually becoming the High King of the Noldor in Middle-earth.

it's like, Fëanor resented the idea of his younger brother usurping his place as the foremost of Finwë's sons, and Morgoth weaponized that fear so effectively that Fingolfin's offspring still holds the kingship when all three of them are long gone. And it's specifically the kingship Fëanor himself wanted: he left Valinor behind so that he could become a king and a lord of "unsullied light" in Middle-earth. But in the end it's three generations of Nolofinwëans being kings, and can you imagine how maddening that must be for Fëanor? It just lines up beautifully both with how even after Morgoth is imprisoned in the Void, his influence can never be removed from the world, and the terrible permanence of the Doom of Mandos: the Dispossessed they shall be for ever. The tragedy of the rift between two brothers keeps sending ripples through the history of the Elves.

also I think somebody else said this way back (couldn't find the post again) that Gil-galad dueling with Sauron to death is such a Nolofinwëan way to go. Challenging the Dark Lord and going down in a blaze of glory just like granddaddy. Plus, something something Fingolfin glittering like a star under Morgoth's shadow and the star imagery of Gil-galad... I just think it's neat.

[criticallyinneedofadar]

Hello! I stumbled across your post about requests opening for certain Rings of Power characters, and I'd love to request one for Gil-galad, if that's okay!

The reader is Elrond's sister, and was taken in by Gil-galad when she was an elfling after Sirion (just like Elros and Elrond). Could you write something that begins in angst and ends in fluff? Like, for example, Gil-galad has been trying to convince himself that he's not falling for the reader (but he is), and one day she goes on a patrol with Elrond and a few other elves. She gets grievously hurt, and is rushed back to the palace by her overprotective brother Elrond. Gil-galad is incredibly concerned, and the love and grief comes rushing to the forefront. He's got to watch her scream in pain as she's being healed by Elrond. When she gets better, the High King professes his love and asks her to court him. A timeskip and a brief mention of them getting married at the end and facing the hardships of Second Age Middle Earth together? Because Eru knows we need some fluff and happy endings!

Thanks a lot, and apologies for the long request!

Hello there! I combined this with another ask I received about our lovely High King! I'm going to make a part 2 that is going to address their happily ever after and maybe some spicey time.... for now, here you go!

zoya-olenka asked:

Ok and the other one, reader and Gil Galad are always clashing during their interactions until the tension is too much and well, we know what follows. I'll leave it to you to set the scenery. I'm sure I'll love anything you come up with!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lovely Thorn

You sit across from Gil-galad at the war council, the map of Middle-earth spread out between you on the heavy oak table. The room is filled with advisors and generals, all eyes turned to the High King as he discusses the latest reports from the patrols. Your heart pounds in your chest, and not because of the looming threat of war.

"I still believe we should patrol further south," you say, folding your arms across your chest. "The enemy could be gaining ground there, and if we don’t act now, we risk losing control of the entire region."

Gil-galad raises an eyebrow, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. "Moving south would leave Lindon exposed. I will not risk the heart of our people for a gamble on a dark servant that Galadriel herself cannot seem to find."

"It’s not a gamble," you argue, your voice sharper than intended. "It is a calculated risk, and one we must take if we’re to stand a chance protecting the people of this world."

The room goes silent, all eyes flicking between you and the High King. This isn’t the first time you’ve challenged him in public, and it certainly won’t be the last. His calm, unflinching demeanor only serves to irritate you more. How can he be so maddeningly composed? And worse—how can he look so beautiful even when he’s infuriating you?

"Perhaps," Gil-galad says after a long pause, "you would like to lead the army yourself, then? Since you seem to know so much more about warfare than my generals."

Heat rushes to your cheeks. "That’s not what I meant, and you know it!"

He leans back in his chair, the smirk still there. "I know what you are saying. But the decision is mine to make."

You grit your teeth, feeling the tension thick between you. The air seems heavier when he’s near, and no matter how much he irritates you, you can’t deny that every argument leaves you more flustered than the last.

"Fine," you mutter, finally relenting, though your mind still spins with frustration. "But when the darkness returns to our borders, remember that I warned you."

As you storm out of the room, you can feel his gaze lingering on you, and the sensation only makes your heart race faster.

—---------------------------

You’re standing in the middle of the throne room, arms crossed as you glare at Gil-galad. The council has just adjourned, but the two of you remain, still arguing over the trade agreements with Númenor. He stands with his arms behind his back, the picture of regal calm, while you’re nearly pacing with frustration.

"We need to offer them more, or they’ll break off the alliance," you insist, your tone exasperated. "You’re being too cautious, Ereinion!"

"And you’re being too reckless," he counters smoothly, his voice low but steady. "If we give Númenor too much, they’ll see it as a sign of weakness. We cannot afford to appear desperate."

"I’m not saying we should grovel," you snap, taking a step closer. "I’m saying we should meet them halfway, but you’re so stubborn!"

Gil-galad’s eyes narrow slightly, but that infuriating calm never leaves his face. "You think me stubborn, do you?"

"Yes!" The word bursts out of you before you can stop it. "You never listen to anyone else’s advice, not when it contradicts your own plans. You—" You falter as he takes a step closer, his gaze locked on yours with a sudden intensity that makes your breath catch. You’re close enough now to feel the heat radiating from him, the weight of his presence pressing down on you.

"And you think I don’t listen to you?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. His closeness, the way his gaze flickers down to your lips for just a fraction of a second—it all leaves you dizzy. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Instead, you turn sharply on your heel and walk out, your face burning, every nerve in your body on fire.

—---------------------------

Of all things to argue about, you hadn’t expected this. The grand banquet hall is prepared for an important delegation from the elven cities, and you’re standing with Gil-galad, going over the final seating arrangements. He points to one of the seats near the head of the table.

"Lady Galadriel should sit there," he says decisively.

You shake your head. "No, she should be closer to the center. That way, she can engage more easily with both the Galadhrim and the Lindon lords. She’ll feel isolated at the head."

Gil-galad sighs, rubbing his temple. "The head of the table is a place of honor. It shows respect."

"She won’t care about that," you insist, your voice rising slightly. "She cares about connection, not appearances."

"And what makes you think I don’t know what she cares about?" he says, turning to face you fully now, his brow furrowing. "I’ve known Galadriel for centuries."

"Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think," you counter, crossing your arms and standing your ground. You know you’re being difficult, but for some reason, every word out of his mouth today is setting you off. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, like you’re some puzzle he can’t quite solve. Maybe it’s the way he always manages to look so composed while you’re constantly flustered in his presence.

He takes a step closer, his gaze hardening, but his voice remains calm. "If memory serves, I am the High King, and the decision is mine."

Your heart pounds as he stands so close, his presence once again overwhelming you. You can smell the faint scent of pine and sea air on him, and you hate that even now, even in the middle of an argument, you can’t help but notice how maddeningly attractive he is.

"You always say that," you mutter, looking away, your face burning. "But sometimes I think you make these decisions just to frustrate me."

Gil-galad’s expression softens for just a moment, something unreadable passing through his eyes. "Perhaps," he says quietly, "I do."

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. You glance up at him, your heart racing, but before you can say anything, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, flustered and confused once again.

—---------------------------

You walk down the quiet halls of the palace, your feet barely making a sound as you wander through the open corridors of Lindon. The sea breeze brushes against your face, carrying with it the familiar scent of salt and pine. You’re lost in thought today, the memories of Sirion still haunting the edges of your mind despite the many years that have passed. 

Your steps slow as you near one of the open council rooms. Two familiar voices filter through the air. Círdan and Gil-galad. Their tones are low but clear enough for you to hear.

“You are the High King of the Noldor, Ereinion. It is your duty to provide a legacy, to ensure the future of our people,” Círdan says with that calm, ancient wisdom in his voice.

There’s a pause, and then you hear Gil-galad’s reply, strained but resolute. “No one deserves that burden, Círdan. To be bound to me would be a life of endless war and worry. The darkness presses closer each day. How could I ask anyone to endure that?”

“You would not be asking. Someone would gladly bear it, if it meant standing beside you,” Círdan counters softly. “There are many who would fill the role, Ereinion. And, if I may speak freely, there is already someone fit.”

A silence follows, heavier than the words before it. You find yourself holding your breath, your heart beating faster for reasons you can’t quite place.

Gil-galad sighs, the sound laced with weariness. “No. There is no one fit for such a task. Not… not her. She deserves more than I can give. I can never ask her to share in this life.”

Her? It couldn’t be you. A sudden weight settles in your chest as your mind scrambles for an explanation. Gil-galad must be in love with someone else—some other elleth, far more graceful and fitting for a king. Perhaps all those charged moments between you—the arguments, the heated exchanges—were nothing more than misunderstandings, your own heart playing tricks on you. You’ve been a fool, misreading his every glance, every word. Heat rises to your cheeks as embarrassment floods you. Of course, the High King would never see you that way.

You quietly slip away from the door, your heart heavy, and find Elrond later that evening. Without revealing too much of your turmoil, you convince him to take you on the next patrol. Anything to clear your mind, to escape these tangled feelings. Elrond hesitates at first, but you press, insisting that some fresh air and a change of pace will help you regain your focus.

But as you ride out with the patrol, your thoughts remain clouded with questions about the mystery elleth. Who is she? Is she one of the noble ladies who frequently attends court? One of the warriors who catches Gil-galad’s eye during council? 

The wind whispers through the trees as your patrol moves cautiously through the dense forest. The air is tense, but your thoughts are elsewhere—drifting back to the conversation you overheard, the words replaying over and over. Who could she be? Gil-galad’s voice, so calm, so certain, echoes in your mind. Whoever she is, she has captured his heart, and that realization claws at you, leaving you distracted and heavy with emotion.

"Are you well?" Elrond’s voice pulls you from your reverie. He rides beside you, his sharp eyes watching the tree line, ever the vigilant commander. You nod, forcing a tight smile, but your mind is still clouded.

Suddenly, a cry goes up from the front of the patrol. The snap of arrows cutting through the air is followed by the sickening thud of one hitting its target. Chaos erupts as orcs burst from the underbrush, their jagged weapons gleaming in the dim light. Your heart leaps into your throat, and instinctively, you draw your sword.

"To arms!" Elrond shouts, his voice clear and commanding over the din of battle. He’s already dismounting, swinging his blade with practiced precision, felling the first orc that rushes him. The patrol scatters, engaging the enemy in pockets of combat, but the ambush has left you surrounded.

You leap from your horse, blade in hand, but your focus is scattered, your movements just a fraction too slow. You parry an orc’s strike, feeling the jarring force of the blow reverberate through your arm. Another charges, and you swing your sword wide, catching it in the side. It falls, but more take its place.

The clashing of steel fills the air, mingled with the guttural roars of the orcs and the cries of your comrades. You fight to keep up, dodging and weaving between the advancing enemies, but your thoughts keep pulling you back—back to her. Whoever she is, she’s the one occupying Gil-galad’s heart, not you. Not ever you.

And that moment of distraction costs you.

An orc lunges from the side, and you turn too late. The blade slashes across your side with brutal force, the shock of it knocking you off your feet. A scream escapes your lips as the pain explodes through your body. You hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from your lungs, blood already soaking through your tunic. You try to stand, but the world spins, your vision dimming at the edges.

"Sister!" Elrond’s voice cuts through the haze, frantic and filled with fear. He’s at your side, fighting off orcs left and right with terrifying precision. He’s calling for help, his face pale as he kneels beside you, hands pressed to your wound. His touch is warm, but you can feel the cold creeping in.

The battle rages on around you, but all you can focus on is the searing pain and the dull roar in your ears. Elrond’s voice fades in and out as he fights to keep you conscious. Somewhere in the distance, you hear the thundering of more hooves—reinforcements, maybe—but it’s too late. The darkness closes in, and your last thought is of Gil-galad. The king you love. The king you can never have.

The world goes black.

The gates of Lindon loom ahead as the patrol rushes back into the city, Elrond riding with you cradled in his arms. You’re barely conscious, the pain from your wound a constant, throbbing ache that keeps you teetering on the edge of blackness. Every breath is agony, and the blood loss has left you weak. Through the haze, you feel the rhythmic beat of your brother’s heart as he holds you close, murmuring soothing words that you can barely hear.

The moment you pass through the gates, the guards shout for aid, and in the next breath, you hear another voice—a voice that sends a jolt through your foggy mind.

"Ereinion," you manage to whisper, but the sound is drowned out by the clamor around you.

Gil-galad appears as if from nowhere, his face pale, eyes wide with fear as he takes in your bloodied form. His gaze locks onto the gash across your side, and his calm, regal demeanor shatters in an instant. He rushes to your side, kneeling next to Elrond as they carry you inside the palace, moving swiftly toward the healing chambers. His fingers tremble as they brush against your cheek, his breath shallow.

"What happened?" His voice is low, edged with a panic you’ve never heard from him before.

"An ambush," Elrond replies tersely, his focus never leaving you as he lays you gently on the bed. "She’s lost a lot of blood, and the wound is deep. I have to start healing her now."

Gil-galad nods, but his eyes remain on you, unable to tear himself away. As Elrond begins the healing process, the room fills with an eerie light. You know what’s coming—the agonizing burn as your brother’s power works to knit your flesh back together. It’s like fire coursing through your veins, and you grit your teeth, trying to suppress the scream rising in your throat.

The pain surges, and your body writhes involuntarily, your breath coming in short gasps. Elrond’s hands glow brighter as he works, but the intensity of the healing magic is unbearable. Your vision blurs, and a scream tears from your lips, the agony more than you can bear.

"Stay with me," Gil-galad’s voice suddenly breaks through the haze. You feel his hand wrap around yours, firm and steady, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "Look at me."

You force your eyes open, your gaze locking onto his. His face is inches from yours, his expression raw with concern, and something else—something deeper that you can’t quite name.

"Do you remember the day we met?" he asks, his voice soft but urgent, as if he’s trying to anchor you to the moment, to keep you from slipping away. "You were so angry. Soaked from the sea, all wide eyes and defiance. I knew then that you would be a thorn in my side."

Despite the pain, a weak, breathless laugh escapes you. "Glad... to oblige."

"You’ve been a constant thorn ever since," he continues, his tone light but laced with something tender. "Arguing with me at every turn. About everything. War. Politics. Even seating arrangements."

You wince as another wave of pain hits, but Gil-galad squeezes your hand, his grip steadying you, pulling you back from the edge. His eyes, usually so composed, are filled with a desperate kind of affection. "But," he murmurs, his voice low and almost trembling, "you are a thorn I would gladly bear every day of my life—if you would stay by my side."

Your heart races, but the words are lost in the haze of pain. All you can do is hold on to his voice, to the warmth of his hand in yours, as Elrond works tirelessly to heal you. The burning, searing pain seems to stretch on for hours, each second a battle to stay conscious. But Gil-galad doesn’t leave your side. He speaks to you quietly, distracting you from the worst of it, telling you of moments you had shared, of arguments he had secretly cherished because they meant you were there, with him.

When the pain finally subsides, and the last of the healing light fades from Elrond’s hands, you collapse back against the pillows, utterly exhausted. Your body is drenched in sweat, your limbs trembling, but the worst is over. Your eyes flutter closed, your mind drifting as sleep pulls you under. The last thing you feel is the warmth of Gil-galad’s hand still holding yours.

As you slip into unconsciousness, Gil-galad remains where he is, his fingers intertwined with yours, his expression unreadable. He leans his forehead against your hand, relief and exhaustion written in every line of his face.

"I won’t leave her," Gil-galad says quietly, his voice hoarse. He looks up at Elrond, his gaze unwavering. "Not until she releases me."

Elrond, weary but grateful, nods in understanding. "She’ll need you when she wakes," he says softly, placing a hand on Gil-galad’s shoulder before quietly leaving the room.

The High King stays, his grip never loosening, watching over you as the night wears on, his heart heavy with the weight of his unspoken feelings.

[lenabobina]

1989 — Deutsche Demokratische Republik (x)

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Absolutely! This is a good one 😃

Are Gallifreyans mammals?

To get our bearings, let's just start with what typically defines a mammal and whether we can apply Gallifreyan physiology to these characteristics.

Hair or Fur: Providing insulation and sometimes camouflage. → ✅ Although they're not Wookiee, Gallifreyans generally have head and body hair.

Endothermy: Commonly known as being warm-blooded. → ✅ They regulate their own body temperature, in fact, much better than humans can.

Neocortex: A brain structure associated with higher cognitive functions. → ✅ Not only do Gallifreyans possess all the components found in the human neocortex, but they also have additional brain parts or lobes for advanced functions.

Live Birth: Many mammals give birth to live young rather than laying eggs. → ✅ Gallifreyans can reproduce just like humans with a pregnancy and ickle time babies.

Mammary Glands: Essential for nurturing young with milk. → ❓(but probably) ... Gallifreyans have secondary sexual characteristics and the ability to birth just like humans, so you can almost bet your bottom dollar they can use the breasts to feed babies with special, err, time milk.

🔄 Gallifreyan Unique Traits

In addition to these, Gallifreyans have several unique biological features:

Binary Cardiovascular System: Two hearts pump their blood.

Regeneration: They can change their physical form and heal from fatal injuries.

Longevity: Their natural lifespan spans centuries.

+ and the other five million things.

Classifying them strictly within any of Earth's existing animal categories is a bit restrictive, and they could be considered a separate category altogether.

👽 Alternative Classifications

Mammalian+: One approach could be categorising Gallifreyans as "Mammalian+" or "Advanced Mammals," a subgroup that acknowledges their mammalian traits and their additional biological capabilities.

Gallifreyan-Specific Class: Given the unique traits, it might be more scientifically accurate to classify them as a distinct group specific to their planet. This new class would acknowledge that while they share similarities with mammals, they're a distinct evolutionary outcome of Gallifrey and its evolutionary pressures.

Xenomammals: This classification could be used for mammal-like beings from other planets who exhibit both standard mammalian traits and extraordinary abilities, but that's highly unspecific.

🏫 So ...

Gallifreyans are certainly more mammal than anything else, and we wouldn't be wrong using that term, but it's a little bit simplified. We should probably consider them a highly specialised or evolved type of mammal, but there's no name for that yet. Ideas welcome.

Related:

💬|🧬♀️♂️Why do Gallifreyans have secondary sexual characteristics?: Why and how Gallifreyans have secondary sex characteristics.

💬|👁️🌡️What is a Time Lord's ideal environmental temperature range?: Comfortable temperature environment ranges for Gallifreyans and a look at extreme temperatures.

💬|🍼👶How do natural Gallifreyan pregnancies work?: Details on the possible gestational aspects of a Gallifreyan+Gallifreyan pregnancy.

Hope that helped! 😀

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features:⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

Having a normal time (debating on whether or not time lords can be classified as mammals)

[tanoraqui]

fake fic meme! sending you three in case inspiration doesn't come.

"stars and garters and gardening shears"

"softly shimmers"

"crash"

[ask meme]

Stars and Garters and Gardening Shears

Agatha needs to win the Blitzengaard Convention National Science Prize. The full-ride scholarship to anywhere she wants is the only way her parents will be able to send her to college. And the prize itself...when she's photographed on that stage with that gold ribbon on her chest, maybe everyone will finally, finally, stop seeing her as nothing but the weird girl with the migraines.

Fortunately, her late nights (too much pain to sleep) and trusty telescope have led her to the discovery of a new theory of luminosity. She has this award in the bag.

.

Gil needs to win the Blitzengaard Convention National Science Prize. It's not that he thinks it will make his father will finally respect him and his choices or anything, not really. But the scholarship money will be his, so he can go to an engineering school rather than business school like his father wants. Fortunately, he's built a fully functional robotic lobster, complete with working claws. He has this award in the bag.

.

Tarvek needs to win the Blitzengaard Convention National Science Prize. It's focus on this or focus on his sister's illness, and his father's increasingly cultish obsessions, and-- Nobody will think he won it legitimately, because his family literally funds the competition, but that's fine. Tarvek will know. And after it wins the award, his novel polygyronic elastic will revolutionize the fashion industry, making him millions and leaving his opponents with their Crispr knockoffs (Odious Cousin 1), stageshow pyrotechnics (Odious Cousin 2), and mechanical shellfish (the less said the better) in the dust.

.

Three (hundred) genius teens. Five days of science convention. One prize.

[group-dynamic]

Very Minor Spoiler for Episode 7 (S2) of Rings of Power

Thinking casually about Galadriel's declaration earlier this season that caring for that which is most fragile and most dear is the duty entrusted to all elves and how Celebrimbor's gentle care in noticing and greeting that little mouse is what allowed him to see past Sauron's deception. :)

[lakesparkles]

omg would you ever draw for choiverse? I feel like top has a wide range of characters that would be fun for you to draw especially as furries

or maybe the rest of rohverse? I’m really interested in seeing Han-soo and Sang-min in your style and animals

I hear you, anon, this is a lovely idea~

I love designing furry designs so here are some more for both of them! Doggies:

Please know that I didn't watch any of these, my designs were 100% based on vibes.

De-gil was inspired by my Dogsuke (bc of his shirt lmao). Sang-min is a wolf because, for what I know about him, he seems like a carnivore hunter animal

Separated designs:

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Thanks for the tag on this really interesting idea :D

What happens to a foetus when a Gallifreyan regenerates?

📚 Things You Should Know First

Every. Single. Cell.: If a regeneration goes according to plan, every cell in the body will completely renew.

Two people, but linked: Mother and foetus are physically two different beings with two unique DNA sets. However, due to their telepathic and temporal sensitivities, they share a more profound symbiotic and physical connection in Gallifreyans.

Regeneration is life: The primary goal of regeneration is preserving the individual's life. That also means preserving the life of an unborn Gallifreyan child inside that body.

🤰Regeneration During Pregnancy

Information about pure Gallifreyan natural reproduction is basic, but we do know a fair bit about regeneration, so here's the most viable option: the All-Encompassing Regeneration.

If the mother needs to regenerate from a trauma, it's likely the baby would have been affected by that trauma too and will also need healing. This shared regeneration ensures the healing and survival of both Mum and Baby.

The regenerative process could consider Mum and Baby a single unit due to their symbiotic and psionic connections, like the (somewhat tenuous) idea that TARDISes regenerate along with their symbiotically linked pilots.

Is the baby also regenerating for itself?:

When considering the mother and baby as a single regenerative unit, it's more accurate to view the baby as being "caught up" in the mother's regeneration rather than undergoing its own independent regeneration process. Regeneration is actually very difficult to control, and the whole process is so physically and mentally traumatic it's very unlikely an unborn child has enough development or understanding to successfully complete it for themselves.

⚕️Potential Complications

DNA Meshing:

Regeneration has been known to allow foreign DNA integration. This process could enhance the baby's biological Gallifreyan traits or integrate beneficial characteristics from the mother's current form, or maybe even the mother could get a few traits from their unborn child.

On the flip side, an early-stage embryo might risk being absorbed as cellular material if not sufficiently recognised by the mother's body as a separate entity.

Sex Change Regenerations:

It's quite likely the regeneration process would preemptively decide the body should remain feminine to continue supporting the baby. However, if the Gallifreyan does change sex during regeneration, the regenerative process might reevaluate the biological necessity for a womb. The process would prioritise the survival of the foetus by reconfiguring the anatomy to support the continuation of the pregnancy - AKA, the new man keeps the womb.

If the baby is due less than 8 weeks after the regeneration, the 'moulding' period can come into play. This is a window after regeneration when details of the body can change. These changes are usually minor, but once the baby is safely delivered, all the female reproduction equipment can be swapped out for the male version.

Related:

💬|🍼👶What would a Human/Gallifreyan pregnancy look like?: Details on the possible gestational aspects of a hybrid pregnancy.

💬|🍼👶How do natural Gallifreyan pregnancies work?: Details on the possible gestational aspects of a Gallifreyan+Gallifreyan pregnancy.

💬|🍼♊Could Gallifreyans have identical twins?: Understanding if Gallifreyans can have twins.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired😴

So I have a question that has been wondering all day inside my head.

If a Time Lady is pregnant and someone hurts her and she’s forced to regenerate to stay alive, will she regenerate WITH or WITHOUT the baby?? Will the baby regenerate too? And if the sex changes (like 12 to 13) will he still be pregnant or will the womb and the baby be reabsorbed into new body cells?

I don’t need sleep I need answers.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

How bad did things even get during the Time War anyway?

How bad was the Time War?

The Last Great Time War was a complete breakdown of cause and effect, logic, and everything that made the universe vaguely comprehensible. It lasted 400 years linearly, but in reality, it was an eternal, ever-shifting conflict fought across countless time periods and alternate timelines. By the time it ended (sort of), even the concept of victory had stopped making sense.

🌀 The War Broke Time Itself

⏳ Time was rewritten constantly. Battles weren't just fought in space—they were fought across entire timelines. Victory could be erased retroactively, and some battles lasted for centuries in one version of history, seconds in another, and never even started in a third.

🧬 Entire species were unmade, then remade, then unmade again. Some were wiped out so thoroughly that no one even remembered they had ever existed. The Daleks seeded themselves throughout different epochs to ensure their survival in multiple timelines.

📖 History itself became a battlefield. Some battles ended before they began, and some never ended at all. Some were fought, won, and then rewritten so that the losers always won instead.

🧠 Conceptual warfare existed. Imagine an army that only exists if enough people believe in it. Imagine ideas being used as weapons, timelines unravelling into paradox knots, and reality breaking under strain.

💀 Millions were killed and brought back to life every second. Time Lords and Daleks alike resurrected their own forces on an industrial scale—a never-ending cycle of death and rebirth, ensuring the war never ran out of soldiers.

💀 Unthinkable Casualties

🔥 Planets were burned from time. Not just destroyed—erased. No ruins, no survivors, no memory they had ever existed.

🌌 Entire galaxies were reduced to cinders. Some were aged into dust in seconds. Others were trapped in permanent time loops, reliving the same devastation forever. Some were sealed in paradox bubbles, their populations stuck in an infinite moment of destruction.

👥 Whole civilisations were conscripted, wiped out, or worse. The Time Lords and Daleks weren't the only players—countless other species were caught in the crossfire. Some were recruited without their knowledge, and entire populations were twisted into warriors who never knew they had fought.

🚀 Refugees couldn't run. Because the war wasn't just happening everywhere; it was happening everywhen. Some tried to escape into the past, only to find it had already been rewritten. Others fled into the future, only to arrive at their own extinction.

🌠 Species were erased just to remove them as a strategic variable. The people of Ysalus were completely wiped from history, while others were forcibly rewritten into weapons of war.

🔬 The Weapons Were Insane

💀 The Time Lords built weapons that erased you from history before you were even born. Some of them removed individuals so thoroughly that even the concept of them ceased to exist.

🌪️The Daleks created time winds that could strip you down to raw possibility. They could reduce a being to nothing but potential energy, scattering them across history as stray thoughts and fragmented echoes.

🛡️ There were living weapons that thought and felt, cities that consumed invaders, and paradox bombs that collapsed entire timelines. Some planets developed sentience mid-battle and chose to self-destruct rather than be conquered.

👁️ The Nightmare Child, the Army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres, the Could-Have-Been King…

🧩 The Time Lords created battle TARDISes that were piloted by soldiers who could be resurrected indefinitely. The War Council threw entire fleets of Time Lords into battle, knowing they could die, be revived, and die again.

👑 And the Time Lords Became Morally Dubious

⚖️ Gallifrey abandoned every principle it stood for. The Laws of Time? Gone. Ethics? Forgotten. Anything was permitted in the name of survival.

🎭 The High Council became so desperate that they tried to destroy all of reality just to win. In the end, the only way they saw to "defeat" the Daleks was to end the entire universe.

☠️ The Time Lords nearly became as bad as the Daleks. Some would say they were worse.

👑 Rassilon returned, and his idea of victory was ending the entire universe. He saw Gallifrey's survival as the only thing that mattered. If everything else had to burn, so be it.

🧩 Entire divisions of Time Lords went rogue, forming resistance movements against their own leaders. The War Master, the Barber-Surgeon, and Morbius all saw the war as an opportunity to further their own agendas.

🏫 So ...

It wasn't just a war. It was the apocalypse, written and rewritten over and over again, until the only solution left was to burn it all down. And even that didn't quite work.

Related:

💬|⚔️⌛How did the Time War start?: The complicated origins of the Time War.

💬|⚔️🔒How does the Time War time lock work?: The extent of the time lock and its current status.

📺|⚔️🪖The Could’ve Been King with his army of … etc.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

What would the stardew valley villagers think if one day their good pal farmer just casually dropped the fact they used to be into something crazy, like an illegal fighting ring. "Yeah I hiked out to an abandoned building at the outskirts of the city every Friday to fistfight people in the basement. It paid 10 times better then my shitty office job ever did but only when I won. There were some real actual martial artists in that ring too, even broke 2 of my fingers punching 1 guy, I miss hanging out with those dudes. Fighting actually relived a lot of stress for me, I didn't quit because I got hurt or anything I quit because my neighbors/coworkers wouldnt stop fussing over me when they saw me after I got hurt in a match. There's no acceptable way to explain how you get a black eye at the end of every week that doesn't raise alarm or get the cops called on someone. I'd probably get back into it if it didn't take a bus ride into the city to get to. I'm not even sure if the 1 i used to go to us still there, i might be able to find one of the other fighters and ask but its not guaranteed any if the other fighters i used to hang out with are all even still in that city"

"Wtf," said all the residents at the same time.

That's it, that's a headcanon. Thanks for the ask! ❤️

Alright, I'm kidding, but the way you wrote that ask, dear anon, is pretty funny heh 😁 Thanks a lot for the question, by the way! Enjoy 💖

_________________________________________

SDV villagers react to Farmer who told them about their illegal fights in past:

"Sir/Ma'am/Mx., this is Wendy's Pierre's." With all due respect to Pierre's best customer, why is Farmer telling him all this behind the counter of his store? Here's your seeds, fertilizer and saplings and goodbye. He has to work and he doesn't care about their- Wait, hold on, don't you dare tell that to his daughter-!

But Pierre was too late with his warnings: Abigail was standing nearby and had heard everything Farmer had said. The amethyst lover looked at them adoringly, because holy shit, underground fights in the city.... Farmer is so cool and badass in her eyes! Naturally, she wants to hear their stories of illegal fights (only when her parents aren't around).

Caroline called out to Abigail "on some very urgent business, quick!", bestowing Farmer with a shocked and concerned look. Seriously, she looked at them as if Farmer had just confessed to murder or something. Now she didn't really want her daughter hanging out with them, afraid that Abby would pick up the crazy idea to join the fights too.

Oh... Yeah, Elliott's friend has, uh... quite an interesting past. And what surprises the writer most is not even Farmer's underground battles themselves, but the fact of how they drastically change the trajectory of their lives and yet adapt to the environment with ease. From an office worker to a no-holds-barred fighter, and now a farmer. Well, if they want to write a biography, this would definitely be fun to read.

"Uh, what?" What did Farmer just tell Leah? The artist had listened to her dear friend's story about growing a giant pumpkin while she was finishing a new painting, and now how they were discussing Farmer's criminal past. Uh, cool and all, but maybe they'd better change the subject? Can they go back to telling stories about pumpkins?

"Ha ha ha how interesting, thanks for sharing!" Although Penny stood like a statue, motionless, her body slowly moved away from Farmer, who had just answered the teacher's question about their hobby in general. This was something she was definitely not prepared for, and, with a nervous smile, ended the conversation. How Penny moved without moving even a finger of her hand was a mystery.

*Shane put his can of beer away* Ok first of all, what the fuck. Second of all, he didn't really give a damn that Farmer was running around in dodgy places and fighting over money in Zuzu City, to be completely honest. Especially since the chicken man himself had done some crazy shit in his youth, not his place to judge or something. And last of all, what the fuck.

*Sob* "A- Aunt Marnie... Uncle Shane..." "Mommy! Sam!" "Uncle Linus!" Oops.... Apparently telling Jas, Vincent and Leo about 'the hobby' with detailed descriptions of violence wasn't Farmer's smartest idea (seriously, what did they even expect?). The kids have tears on their cheeks and their parents/guardians give Farmer a not-so-kind look. Now the delinquent farmer need lots of ice cream and mangoes so the local kids will forgive them.

Oh, so that's why Emily senses such an unusual aura around Farmer. Hmm? Ah, no, she just thinking out loud. Emily gets a little upset by such detailed descriptions of fights (she can't stand violence), so she politely asks Farmer to omit the details of their fights. An unconventional choice to 'relax', but it's not her place to judge people. And Farmer found some good friends there, so that's great!

Huh, now Marlon and Gil know where their new Guild member got their fighting skills from the very beginning of their arrival in the Valley. Fighting ring, eh? Marlon had dabbled a bit in all sorts of battles and fights for money too when he was Farmer's age - pretty good income, booze and friends. Though then he quickly gave it up as he found his purpose as adventurer and devoted himself to defending the Stardew Valley from monsters. Gil was the same, but he had been practicing his "hobby" a little longer than his one-eyed colleague.

Oh, goodness! So much violence and blood in Farmer's stories. Pity poor Evelyn's old heart, she can't listen to such cruel battles. So Farmer better stop talking and silently accept cookies and tea from sweet grandma and tell about their work on the farm.

Hmph! 'Underground battles', what a nonsense! Today's youth go to some abandoned buildings, fight, break laws and feel cool. If George wasn't confined to that damn wheelchair, he'd take Farmer down in one moment. And anyway, Farmer should stop this talking about their fighting, because George's wife doesn't like to talk about violence at the kitchen table.

"Tough fella, huh?" Alex regarded his friend Farmer for about half a minute. Really quite a formidable opponent if the athlete were to ask Farmer to fistfight in a friendly sparring. Though he's most interested in Farmer's diet and routine, since even before their farming career started, they look very healthy ("just don't suggest anything illegal, got it?").

*Sigh* The Wizard already knows. All. That. Farmer, how many times does he have to tell you he knows about your past? He's a wizard. A wizard. Someone who can see the future of others in a crystal ball and such. So unless Farmer brought him purple mushrooms or void essence, please don't distract Rasmodius with their stories, he has potions to brew.

"No freaking way, dude!" "Yes freaking way, Sam." The guitarist nearly fell off his chair when Farmer told him how they used to fight all sorts of big guys in the city in addition to their clerk jobs. Mega cool and hardcore! Sam will of course listen to more stories from his friend, but one moment, just let him close his room door so his mom or dad doesn't accidentally hear them.

Though Jodi doesn't particularly need to hear it from her oldest son's room - Caroline has already shared gossip and warnings with her during their weekly aerobics class. Which makes Jodi wary now, though she won't say her worries out loud. She won't treat Farmer any worse, they're good neighbors after all, she's just... worried about her sons, alright?

"Farmer, a word." Huh, they wonder what Kent needed from the Farmer. "I'll be honest: I don't know what your reasons were for your illegal fighting, it's none of my business and it's not for me to judge you. But don't suggest anything like that to Sam and Vincent, got it?" The veteran doesn't really care about Farmer's past, he just worried about his sons. Well, his kids are smart and won't get involved in anything illegal but just in case. Nothing personal.

That explains to Harvey how there are so many scars on Farmer's body. Quite a large number for someone as young as them. So how long had they been participating in these questionable activities? A month? Over a year? Some of the scars have long since healed. Wait, you know what - no need to tell him this further, because the first stories with such violence already made the doctor feel sick to his stomach.

"Uhhh..." Maru is shocked. "Goddess, did you really get paid so poorly in Joja that you had to do this as well to earn your bread?" Pretty shocking detail about Farmer, but hey, at least they made friends with many people back then, that's a good thing, yeah? Honestly, the inventor doesn't know how she should respond to that or what to say.

Ok, too much information for Gus... People are different, it's just that the owner of the Saloon doesn't understand how Farmer can talk about it so calmly and openly. He'd still understand if the Farmer told him about their illegal fights after a glass or two of strong wine/el, but they told him sober. They would, this, be careful who they told it to.

Sebastian took the cigarette out of his mouth and uttered a delighted 'wow...'. So, a job at a soul-sucking corporation during the day and bare-knuckle fighting at night? Damn, crazy lifestyle. But why didn't Farmer quit their job at Joja then? And why did they quit everything and become farmer now? Sebby's in no hurry to go home and if Farmer has some free time, maybe they'll tell the local emo about their fights in Zuzu City.

Haley sighs tiredly. Yoba, why does she have to be surrounded by weirdos? The guy who always wears black, her own sister's so weird with her crystals and aura nonsense. And now this new farmer is telling her wild facts about their life... It's so unfair!

"Aye," was the only thing Willy replied before taking up his smoking pipe again with his teeth. Not that thel old fisherman didn't care what Farmer was saying, but first of all, it would be better for both of them to sit in silence so as not to scare the fish away right now, and secondly, Farmer should not tell every person they met about their illegal hobbies. Other people might misunderstand them, or even use this information to blackmail them.

"What the fuck are you yapping about, kid?" Pam only partially heard their story, as the alcohol in her body already makes her feel very sleepy. Then there's this weird shit from Farmer. But also... if Farmer would now set another mug of beer for her, them she would listen to them, their every crazy story. With her eyes closed.

As soon as Demetrius hears exactly what Farmer told Maru, his wife Robin has to keep her hyper-parenting husband from taking drastic actions he might regret. So while he's sulking in the lab and glaring at his daughter and her friend, Robin gently explains to Farmer that this kind of talk about their illegal hobby isn't to everyone's liking, and if you can, don't mention it in front of her hubby and kids, okay? Especially such a detailed description of broken limbs (the picture comes to mind is unpleasant, to say at least). No offense.

What?! Illegal fights?! And Farmer's telling Lewis this as a reason to be proud?! They should be ashamed of themself! Doing... stuff like that. And what would their grandfather say if he knew their grandchild had such a secret? "I don't know, Lewis, what grandpa would say to your secret-" !!! Get out of his house! Hmph, the youth these days...

With each sentence, with each detail in Farmer's story, Marnie's face grew paler and paler. Her imagination was building such shock content over Farmer's story that the rancher asked them to stop. They had a hobby that helped them relax and earn money for living before moving here, that's a good thing. She doesn't need any more details.

"... Look, are you going to buy seeds or not?" Time is money, and Morris doesn't like to waste time listening to all these customer stories. Nor should Farmer tell the Joja general manager at all that they've been involved in some not-so-legal flights. Because Morris was advertising coupons in someone else's store without remorse, so what's to stop him from using that information to blackmail Farmer for the benefit of the mega corporation he's working.

".......Uh-huh." On the one hand, Clint had been stuck with the forge all day, and wouldn't mind chatting with Farmer, a friend and regular customer. On the other hand... What? Okay, he didn't care what they'd done in the past. One topic did interest him though. "You were already popular back then and you must have had a crowd of fans, right? Tell me, do 'wrestlers' like that attract women?" He wasn't desperate enough to get into illegal fighting too, but it was still interesting to hear what they'd say about it.

[ludoka]

I'm reading posts that talk about a rewrite of G3 to make it look like G1? Honestly... Why? Let the newcomers have fun with G3. Let children and adolescents feel identified with characters that adapt to new generations.

Instead: why don't they demand a continuation of G1? What do I care about the life of a teenager between 14 and 17 years old? GIVE ME EXISTENTIAL CRISIS OF YOUNG ADULTS BETWEEN 20 AND 30!!!!

Give me a Deuce who feels stuck because he doesn't know what to do with his life!!! Give me a Gil who is looking to move out of his parents' house because he can't stand them anymore!! GIVE ME FRANKIE GOING INTO CRISIS BECAUSE SHE KNOWS HOW TO BE AN ADULT!! IT COST HORRORS FOR HER TO BE A TEENAGER, BEING A FUNCTIONAL ADULT IS KILLING HER!!!

Show how Clawdeen strives to be a dressmaker! What the world of modeling is like!! IT'S NOT AS EASY AS IT LOOKED WHEN I WAS A TEENAGER! Show how Jackson and Holt try to balance their lives so that each one fulfills what they dream of! Show how you organize yourself so that Holt has rehearsals and goes to concerts!! While Jackson manages his college study schedule!! Show Cleo struggling to grow up. This girl was a princess from ancient Egypt and probably had a pre-written life. Now that is not possible. She is grateful but horrified in equal parts because she no longer knows how to continue. Damn, show Toralei trying to achieve a better future but with a background that complicates her life!! OH MY GOD!!! SHE WAS IN A JUVENILE PRISON!!! THAT FILE IS BITTING HIS BUTT IN THE WORST WAY!!

I want characters I can identify with too. But I am no longer a child or teenager, I am an adult. I want adult characters that I can empathize with, identify with, and want to hug because I know how hard it is to try to be a functional adult.

Please leave G3 alone and give me a big sequel to G1.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Time Lords, particularly of high rank, often self-apply silver to their cheeks, eyes, and lips. Not seeing this on your Time Lord is no cause for alarm. While a change in appearance can sometimes indicate stress or illness, the absence of face paint alone isn't a definitive sign. Observe other behaviours, and if you are concerned about your Gallifreyan's welfare, prompt them to consult their local Gallifreyan physician.

also like have they never again done the silvery makeup for the time lords. cowards.

[solstrix]

Thalassophobia - 3/4

Local catgirl impulsively speaks up on feelings she has not yet processed, more at 8

1 2 4

[freakazoidlesbian]

What if Yellowjackets happened to them?