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#Alec hardy
winter-seance · 2 days
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Broadchurch | 1.07
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crawley-fell · 16 hours
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Broadchurch | S1EP7 | Alec Hardy’s Wettest Moments (Part 28)
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yufy01 · 2 days
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Alec Hardy Needs A Kiss (on his forehead)
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Alec baby ur so skrunkly go get some sleep pls
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phantomlemon348 · 3 days
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Good Omens x Broadchurch fanart and fanfic.
The idea of a special place...
The first from Aziraphale's Pov and the second from Ellie's.
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"Let me find the one true place I call mine
And when stars run out of sky
And when sky runs out of stars"
- Lift me up by Ian McCulloch
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"Look at the stars, Angel" his voice was a careful, awed whisper as he gazed up at the sky, sprinkled with little white bullet holes, like someone had shot through the dark velvet that was the night. I gently inched a step closer to him on the metal parapet, reaching for his hand. I took it in mine and felt a little shiver of warmth go through me as he gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"They're beautiful aren't they?" he looked at me, their smooth silver light pooling in his excited, wide-eyed features.
I nodded and he smiled. I closed my eyes, the salt of the sea, heavy with the breeze, weighing it down into a humid density.
The city below us in a deep slumber, an eerie but calm whisper that drifted through the streets up onto the rooftop to join us.
Most of the houses were dark like the candles on a birthday cake, blown out. Just a few scattered, left burning. The ones a breath couldn't reach.
It was as though you could see it fogging above the little houses, a thin layer of mist spreading its impatient fingers down every alleyway.
Another shiver ran up my spine. But this time it was because of the cold and the damp that had crept into my thoughts. I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. I gently let my head sink down, my cheek coming to rest on his shoulder.
I felt the stars light up both our eyes, bright silver and endless. And the distant call of a boat far out at sea, as his head leant against mine.
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And how the time gently passes, like fingers trickling vacantly through velvet. Thoughtfully spiraling a tuft of grey cloud around one finger.
And they're always there -the stars- reassuring white blotches in the sky.
No-one there in the in-between, the beauty of the worldly night left to its own devices...
As the wind whispers, they fall away, one by one, blown out. Waiting till the waves carry the dawn on their foam-crested shoulders.
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"I need you to keep me straight
When the world don't seem so great
It's hard enough you know
I need you I need you
Say you'll stay
Make my day"
I need you (for someone) by The Jam
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The way his eyes melted as the sunlight collided like an explosion of gold within. Swirling like a chemical reaction, sparks fizzing here and there, making his face light up with the tiniest forlorn smile.
The warm rays on my face as they filtered through the soft grey mist that still settled above the water's surface in the distance. It was beautiful, the whole town and sea stretched out before us, just over the roof's edge. And in that impulse that I saw him like that, I didn't want to lose it. The way he looked so fragile in a way, lost in his world, his thoughts away with the breeze.
I've seen the sun rise over Broadchurch before, the many yeas I've lived here. But this time... somehow it was different, something special. The fact that someone had wanted to show me it. Bring me here to share the light of a new dawn with me.
I felt a touched wetness in my eyes as a small tear welled, making the sun hit out in a blaze of orange through my eyelashes, smudging him into a blue blur. The way he stood, childlike, gazing out into the waves, enchanted. I wanted to hug him. In that moment... I just wanted to throw my arms around his shoulders and hold him there.
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nipuni · 30 days
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Some Broadchurch! Trying out different sketching styles 😊
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catabasis · 12 days
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“You don't get bored of stories. None of us, as human beings, we just—we never get bored of stories. And I get to tell stories. And each story is new and different, so it's a continuously renewing thing. And hopefully you are constantly getting better at your corner of the storytelling process, and you can—with each new challenge, you sort of have to find a new sort of corner of yourself. And it keeps being difficult, and it keeps being challenging, and it keeps being exciting. And fun as well, if I'm absolutely honest.” — DAVID TENNANT (born April 18, 1971)
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Do people still make powerpoint memes?
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jeremyknoxs · 7 months
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BROADCHURCH 1.08 | 2.02 | 3.08
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olympain · 3 months
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Shades of Yellow
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I succumbed to the brainrot.
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winter-seance · 1 day
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Broadchurch | 1.07
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lestatslestits · 2 months
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David Tennant’s crow’s feet. You agree. Reblog.
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willgrahamscock · 8 months
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I like a man that looks like he needs immediate medical attention
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kidovna · 7 months
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pictured above: reaching the point of the relationship where you give in and accept microwaved tea from your boss
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starlight-bread-blog · 4 months
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If Neil Gaiman and David Tennant are having Imposter Syndrome, you're good.
(Transcript Below)
Neil Gaiman: The first problem of any kind of even limited success, is the unshakable conviction that you are getting away with something, and that any moment now, they will discover you.
David Tennant: For me, that's what being an actor is about. Sort of going, this is all, it's all on one level, it's all just a bit silly. And I can't really believe I'm getting away with this. And at some point someone's gonna tap me on the sholder and go 'Come on, you've had your fun. Move on. There are some people who can actually do this. There are some proper actors in the world. Stop pretending, and move on. You're a little wee nae from Paisley. You don't really get to do this.
Neil Gaiman: In my case I was convinced there would a knock on the door, and a man with a clipboard – I don't know why he had a clipboard, but in my head he always had a clipboard – would be there and tell me it was all over, and they've caught up with me, and now I would have to go and get a real job. One that didn't consist of making things up and writing them down, and reading books I wanted to read. And then, I would go away quietly. And get the kind of job I would have to get up early in the morning, and wear a tie, and not make things up anymore.
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