#oh my head

[hooked-on-elvis]

My huge man crush, from the past and the present.

[pagerunner-j]

Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who), Rose Tyler, various OCs Additional Tags: Pete's World (Doctor Who), post-journey's end, Torchwood - Freeform Series: Part 8 of The Long Road Home Summary:

Rose and Tentoo have secrets. Torchwood has questions. Everything is about to come to a head one way or another, especially if the director of interdimensional research at Torchwood gets her way.

And Rose and the Doctor are going to have to figure out how to stop her, before she lays a claim on their growing TARDIS...or on the two of them themselves.

Note: Now complete! Enjoy.

[01010kom]

my single contribution to the fandom.

[hinamie]

to moving forward

[causalityparadoxes]

He's a bounty hunter. He's into DnD. He somehow doesn't know about cosplay or how to improv despite this. He CAN dance. He fell for the Doctor so hard the only coherent thought in his head under stress was proposing to them. Within the hour he'd kissed them, sacrificed himself, and said "find me" after making them catch a goddamn marriage bouquet. He's a nerd. He's socially awkward. He listens to Kylie Minogue. He's a sweetheart. He's a Killer. He's engaged to the Doctor. He is the moment. He is the Rogue.

[exxpelliarrmus]

hi i have to run 9 offices while everyone is sick and hope i too don’t get sick help

[n4rval]

i lied. here's a bonus.

[inkskinned]

you're in the habit of denying yourself things.

if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.

but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?

what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.

and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.

you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.

so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.

it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.

sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.

oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.

[hansoeii]

stuck in the rain.

[deep-spacediver577]

Mood:

[froggielovescoffee]

ruin am iright? hehhehrhedhehrhehehrh

[zukkacore]

Second Place episode of Gamechanger feat the Aguefort staff aka Aguefort heaven is Porter hell. It’s a very efficient system

Bonus:

[glitter-stained]

Prompt:

After Red Hood stopped killing and someone leaked footage hinting that he's the second Robin, he expected to fight for every morsel of territory, for everybody to desert him and the murder attempts to triple.

And, well. It's not like he doesn't find himself in a rigged warehouse on Monday, walking off that one explosion with singes on his back. It's not like on Wednesday, a bullet pierces through a hole in his armour and he's losing half his blood in an alley. And sure, someone takes advantage of him throwing his helmet away on Friday (he was out of grenades and needed a bigger bomb) to fear gass him, but it's fine, he can function normally under fear gass nowadays.

Except. Except nobody deserts him. By Monday, the attempts have completely stopped. He walks into a meeting with his men and sees his goons' hands won't stop shaking, and even his lieutenant won't look him in the eyes.

Jason is confused, and so are the other bats, but soon the rumours reach their ears: you can't go after the Red Hood, because no matter what you do, once you've targeted him it's over, like a dog with a bone, he'll get you eventually- no matter how you shoot or how many explosives you use. It doesn't matter that the Red Hood doesn't kill, because the Red Hood doesn't die.

[batpersik-art]

celebration

[citrenecult]

Drew the Lamb, Narinder, and the Follower Bishops.

Some close ups.

[myrkulitescourge]

the way that one line from the new epilogue in an astarion romance is going to HAUNT me

just. what a profoundly intense thing to confess to someone.

like, just these six months of newfound happiness with you exerts a force on his heart equal and in direct opposition to two centuries of endless torment, the gnawing hunger and exploitation. this flashbulb-bright fraction of his long life holds the same gravity to him as years upon years of darkness and suffering.

in all likelihood, he hasn’t even known his lover for as long as his worst memory lasted, that year sealed away to go mad from starvation and sensory deprivation, yet he still tells them this brief time has been so fundamentally and powerfully important that the weight of even that unimaginable hell is vanishingly small compared to this present he has now and the future ahead of them both.

how am i supposed to act normal about this.