#tyler writes things

[hiding-in-my-blanket-fort]

Pucker Up - Tyler Harrison x Reader (gender neutral)

As a treat, Tyler gets you some candy, but he won't let you have it until you pay a small kissing tax.

Word count: 700ish Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, mild language, flirtation by childish insults, friends to lovers

Market day at Yvaga was always a sight to see - bursting with a rainbow of colors, the air filled with delicious mouth watering smells, and a relentless hum of activity as vendors clamored for the attention of visitors.

It didn't take long before you lost Tyler in the chaos. He disappeared when you turned your back for half a second. Now you stood on tiptoe, scanning the crowded street in the hope you might catch a glimpse of him.

At last, he came striding through the milling people, looking suspiciously proud of himself. He held up a small bag tied with a ribbon.

"I found you a little something."

Opening the bag, he angled it toward you so you could peek inside. The crisp scent of lemon rose up to greet you.

"Lemon drops," you breathed. "I haven't tasted those in years."

When you reached in to take one, Tyler whisked the bag out of reach with a playful gleam in his eyes.

"Now hold on a minute. It's not easy to come by sugar on Yvaga."

You shoved his shoulder.

"Don't be a fucking tease, Tyler. You know how much I love lemon drops."

He fished a piece of candy from the bag and popped it in his mouth, pushing it into his cheek with his tongue. You crossed your arms.

"Now you're just rubbing it in."

He shrugged.

"Yeah, a little. It's fun to watch your nose get all scrunched up when you're annoyed."

You huffed a laugh and lunged for the bag of candy. You almost caught it, but Tyler managed to snatch it away at the last second. You stumbled forward to catch your balance.

"Come on," Tyler said. "You'll have to try harder than that if you really want a taste."

No matter what you did - standing on tiptoe, stretching as far as you could reach - Tyler was still taller than you.

Narrowing your eyes, you glared up at him. He smirked down at you in response.

"Asshole," you said.

His eyes brightened and he put a hand to his chest.

"Is that a compliment? I'm blushing."

Your stomach gave that weird fluttery-twist it usually did when you were in close proximity to Tyler these days. At some point, you would have to admit that you were developing feelings for him, but there was no way in hell you would ever say anything out loud. That would be...mortifying. Especially if he didn't return your feelings. You didn't want to ruin your friendship with him.

You hurried to cover the burn in your cheeks.

"Are you going to let me have a piece of that candy or not, dumbass?"

Tyler stepped closer until he towered over you, an inch of space barely separating you. His eyes darkened and his tone softened.

"It comes with a price."

Your breath caught in your throat at the distinct shift between you. The crowded street seemed as if it was a thousand miles away and the only two people in the world was you and Tyler.

"Name it," you whispered.

"For the token of one kiss, you can have the whole damn bag."

Now you weren't breathing at all. You were friendly with Tyler, volleying lighthearted insults back and forth, but you never dreamed he actually liked you back.

"You better not be making fun of me." Your voice was painfully quiet as you haltingly bright your hand up and curled your fingers into his shirt.

Tyler shook his head. When he brushed his knuckles against your cheek, you could have sworn your knees would buckle. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

"I've been looking for an excuse to kiss you for ages."

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. The faint hint of lemon sugar still lingered on his tongue. You felt his smile against your mouth. Then he scooped an arm around your waist, tugging you against him.

"Fucking finally," he muttered.

You felt like you had wings on your feet. Sliding your arms around Tyler's neck, you kissed him back, and all thoughts of the candy slipped from your mind.

****

Masterlist

[camellcat]

lose my mind every time the doctor takes rose's last name in fics. brilliant, amazing, splendid, absolutely perfect.

like, what do you MEAN she'd be the one to change her last name? he doesn't even HAVE a bloody name like us! plus, she's rose tyler. you think he's going to want that to be different? it's the doctor and rose tyler in the tardis (or I suppose whatever they do in pete's world, but that's still the doctor and rose tyler having their new adventure)!!

she's rose tyler and he is whatever-he-wants tyler. end of discussion. the whole pond diabolical should've been clue enough imo

[sdvbraindump]

[thirdeyeblue]

“Nine would have treated Martha better than Ten did”

I need to talk about this argument that never seems to stop circulating.

Note: Not a venomous/anti post. There’s more than enough of that across fandom spaces as is, and this is supposed to be a place for ✨sweet, blissful escapism✨

When making this argument, people seem to envision a scenario in which Nine never met Rose.

While I can appreciate a good hypothetical, recognizing Rose's significance to the Doctor (Nine and Ten) is essential to understanding why things with Martha played out the way they did in the first place.

In the third series, the Doctor is grieving. This grief is deliberately threaded into nearly every script, whether spoken aloud or not (and these are just a few examples):

He's burning in Rose’s wake the entire time Martha travels with him, which is why it’s so frequently called upon: It’s 100% deliberate in framing his grief. He grieved as Nine too, of course— having been fresh on the heels of the Time War — but then he met Rose, which changed everything.

Back then, he was still a rude, traumatized pain in the ass, but we watch Rose soften more of those jagged edges with every episode as they grow closer; as he lets his guard down and forms a deep connection with her.

He falls in love (against his better judgment) and it's game over.

And yes: provided S1E1 had been titled 'Martha', one can realistically assume things might have unfolded similarly to how they did with Rose. However, it wouldn’t have been that way just because the Doctor was Nine and “Nine was different” — it would be because he wasn’t already in love with someone else. The same can't be said for the start of S3.

Think of it like this: if Rose AND Martha had been in that cellar — if Nine had taken both of them along with him in S1 — we’d eventually be looking at the most melodramatic love triangle ever, what with him living in close quarters with two brilliant, gorgeous, compassionate young women... But Doctor Who is plenty “soap opera” as is with just one woman in the TARDIS.

(I certainly wouldn’t object to reading that fic, though)

Now, regarding the unrequited elephant in the room…

His inability to be romantic with Martha isn’t because he thinks her lesser, nor is it for lack of compatibility. It isn't because Rose is any better than her. It certainly isn’t just because he’s Ten.

It’s really only for one reason, which can't be denied — and now I’m a broken record:

He is still in love with Rose.

(cut from a tenrosedaily gif)

Nine is Ten, and Ten is only such a mess in S3 because he’s just lost the love of his life. Martha merely got caught in the crosshairs of a volatile Time Lord in mourning, and yes — it sucks. Absolutely.

But it also feels dismissive to chalk Ten and Martha’s relationship up to little more than some sort of mindless dance of pining, jealousy, and toxicity.

Ten trusted Martha with his life over and over again — and hers, with him. He constantly praised her brilliance, happily carting her around time and space with no intention of letting her go. In the BBC’s extended universe of novels/comics/cartoons/etc, there’s so much depth to their relationship: love and trust and trauma and sacrifice. They had their own special bond as mates, their own complexities — so it’s a bummer that it's forever overshadowed by the other things.

I’m not denying that there was a lot of stuff that sucked/was for sure toxic about Ten's S3 behavior, but so many of the things I've seen him catching flak for can be directly attributed to being A Clueless Fucking Alien Idiot (not a trait that’s unique to Ten) — as well as his flat-out obliviousness to Martha’s feelings.

So yes, I agree: if Rose never existed, he would have treated Martha differently as Nine. He also would have treated her differently as Ten. Certainly.

But Rose did exist, and when discussing canon, it matters.

“He tells me that he absolutely, 100% loves Rose... He tells me how my daughter; my wonderful, beautiful, clever little girl saved him from himself before… And he says that’s all because of me! I made her into the Rose Tyler that saved him.”

-Jackie Tyler, Flight Into Hull!

Martha got the short end of the stick in S3. She came round at the wrong place and time, but that doesn't mean it was all bad. It doesn't mean the Doctor didn’t adore her. It certainly doesn't mean the time they spent together was wasted or worthless. They were brilliant!

Sure, he could be a twat, but let it be known that he was a twat with Rose as well, both as Nine and Ten. I’m sure Tentoo can be plenty infuriating, too. So while I'll defend Ten (and Tentoo) into the ground forever and ever and ever, I'll concede that he's fucked up.

The Doctor is a certified Pain In The Ass. It’s one of the things I love so much about this character — dynamics.

But never forget that Martha was goddamn tough as nails and overcame every bit of it. She moved on with her life, and the Doctor moved on with his. One can only pray that, when they inevitably drag her back onto the show (which feels inevitable if I'm honest), we see at once that she's been living her best life for all these years.

[littlebirdygirlywriting]

Y’all have no idea how much I want somebody to pick me up around the waist, sit me on a countertop, and kiss me absolutely senseless. Like—

I was literally daydreaming at work about this.

[synodic-lupine]

Nine and Ten's arcs go hand in hand as a collectively great PTSD narrative imo. I think Ten's wishy-washiness about relationships and inability to fully open up to Rose is often characterized as plain old fear of commitment yet I see that as a progression to another presentation of PTSD. When we first meet Nine, he seems like he's halfway to planning on how to get himself killed. He meets Rose, he heals, he changes, he grows. Then he regenerates into someone with a desire to live and the seeming capacity to just be happy. At the same time, he regenerated for and because of Rose. Recovery that hinges on one person is a tricky thing. When you're with that person it can feel like there's no more work to be done, like you're totally 'fixed'. Every moment with that person feels like the best thing in the world... which makes it significantly harder to open up about anything trauma related. When you're feeling high on a person's presence why would you ever want to think about the bad things? THEN because he finally properly wants to live, The Doctor gets hit with the realization that living a full life means losing Rose in the end and it's downright intolerable to him. It makes him push and pull and act like a bastard sometimes. We get glimpses of who he is without her in the moments when she's threatened. He loses his damn mind any time she's threatened- he gets that crazed look akin to Nine in Dalek more than anything. This is also in contrast to how Nine used to react to Rose being threatened, where he used to still be able to keep it reined in. THEN... he loses her for real and he backslides majorly. We see the effects in Turn Left, that if Donna hadn't been there he would have died right after saying goodbye to Rose. He's more or less back where he started as Nine in the beginning of series one, looking for a way to die. He lives though, and has to accept that no, he's not perfectly recovered and keep on working on it. He opens up about things in ways we saw him struggle to in series 2. Though he's more callous in series 3 and 4, he seems to struggle more with relating to humans, his bastardous tendencies pop up more. He's also a freaking disaster man in series 4 with the number of times he offers or tries to give up his life for others. He DOES make recovery progress through series 3 and 4, just is slow like in real life. All of that makes JE make sense to me in that this is a man who is experiencing turbo PTSD triggering. He pushes everyone away all at once, because maybe being alone will hurt less than losing people after all. Even after all that in the end when he is dying he says he doesn't want to go. He was born into wanting to live and be happy so of course he doesn't want to go.

[iamumbra195]

Ashlyn Spider-woman AUs are genuinely so funny because this girl would hate it so much.

She already has to deal with sensitive hearing now she has to worry about super strength, spider senses and sticky hands that only relax when she's calm which is like never because how on Earth is she supposed to calm down when she can punch through walls without breaking her arms and can practically sense everything within a mile-radius?!

The sensory overload would be painful as hell too.

If it was set in the canon universe, I think she'd tell her parents and they would all work together to figure out her powers. They'd probably use all the junk in the bus graveyard to gauge how much she could carry and how strong she was overall.

Over time, she'd probably get used to her powers, maybe even find some of them fun. Sticking to the ceiling and just chilling there for hours without all the blood rushing to her head was kinda nice and seeing her dad's reaction to her sticking to the ceiling for the first was entertaining. Plus, the powers made her even more flexible and she's into ballet. This girl would love being able to jump super high.

But she only really uses her powers at home where she feels like she doesn't need to hide it anymore. I don't think she'd feel the need to ever become a spider-woman. They'd managed just fine without her before and Alto was a pretty boring town. She wasn't a superhero anyway. I don't think her parents would ever want her to put herself in danger like that either. Plus, they don't their daughter to get attention from any unsavoury people or the government. They were both in the military after all. They knew how corrupt and messed up the government could be and they didn't want Ashlyn anywhere near it.

But then the new school year starts and there's a weird new kid that makes her senses prickle with unease. In fact, almost everything about her first day back at school makes her uneasy. The new kid. The shoe that almost took her head off. The new teacher. The field trip. The new kid.

Aiden just won't leave her alone and it was irritating. He was loud and talked too much as well. Still, her dad wanted her to give it a shot and it couldn't be that bad. It was just a field trip, she'd been to plenty of those.

Although the last field trip she went on was the reason she ended up with her superpowers... She really didn't want to go. Especially with Aiden constantly pestering her about it. Agreeing to go felt like losing. Urgh.

She ends up going and at first, it's not bad. All until a woman offers to give them a free tour of a 'haunted' house. Ashlyn doesn't want to go. Something about the whole situation was making her uneasy. But the others all wanted to go so she went with them. The uneasy feeling along with the phantom noises that kept getting louder made it even worse, sweat collecting in her palms and the urge to flee only getting stronger.

So when she sees that creature and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, she doesn't catch her reaction fast enough, hastily taking a few steps back.

"Ash?" Aiden said and there was a hint of concern in his voice. The others were all staring at her with varying looks on their faces, from concern to irritation. It wasn't real. She needed to calm down. It was just a hallucination. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.

But what if it was, the paranoid voice in her mind whispered. She had superpowers, who's to say that demons or ghosts couldn't be real?

She shook the thought away, tearing her eyes away from the creature and taking a deep breath before turning back to her classmates. She was being ridiculous. "Sorry, I thought I saw some-"

She was paralyzed in place when she saw them staring past her with terrified expressions, senses blaring with warning as a cold, slippery hand wrapped around her arm.

It was real.

And it was right behind her.

[twenty-one-froggy-pilots]

FPE: Why it matters!

I'm not sure I think I've seen anyone mention this for a while, so I just want to make it clear why it matters so so so much that Nico mentions "So few, So proud, So... Emotional" He's taking about US the Few The Proud And The Emotional are USSSS

Tyler has always been fighting on our behalf!!

When Tyler (Clancy) goes to fight Nico, He's not only fighting to free himself, but us too!!

When Tyler wins we win! When we win we encourage ourselves and others to keep going! We win by living! By keep pushing forward! We Win when Stressed Out is on the oldies station and we can send our kids off to their events

We win when we keep going, keep pushing forward despite our anxieties and our fears and our depression, we win because we are apart of something bigger than ourselves that gives us meaning, that we can find meaning and comfort and friends in

In a concert we are one, proud to be alive, proud to be emotional, proud to be one of the (ksajdcnksjcksc) few

We need to remember that this fight includes us too, Tyler and Josh are fighting for US

[homoqueerjewhobbit]

Been thinking a lot about characters who don't have tragic/complicated/lore-filled Backstories cause I just finished Neverwhere and Richard is just like some guy. Neil never explains why he's special and he can see door, he just does.

Tolkien never explains why Gandalf chose Bilbo. I don't even think we ever find out what career Bilbo had before going on his journey. He has no Backstory at all.

Rose Tyler was just a totally normal girl. So was Arthur Dent. So was... Another example, sorry I'm tired, I already gave you four.

Look, I'm not saying elaborate/tragic/mythic Backstories are bad, my WIPs are chock full of them, I just think writblr sometimes acts like they're mandatory and they don't have to be.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

when it all comes Crashing Down

tags: 18+, afab!reader, childhood friends to friends(?) with benefits, codependent relationship

summary: it fascinates you how someone so manipulative and cruel can be so sensitive and needy

a/n: writing pro-tip, always write down random sentences whenever they come to you because you never know when it’ll be the source of inspiration for a story. in this case, an introspective think piece on makima’s loneliness that is also smut where neither of you are the good guy. also available on AO3.

If windows are eyes to the soul, you wonder what that means for someone like Makima. 

Or rather, you wonder what people see when they look at them. You’ve known her for the better part of your life and at 25, you still aren’t sure what others see. That is at the forefront of your mind as gold eyes with red rings look back at you, a calculating smile accompanying them.

“Are you listening to me?” Makima tilts her head as she rests her chin on her palm.

You nod vaguely at your childhood friend, turning your gaze to your phone screen. “I heard you say a week ago that you have a partner assignment due this week and yet somehow you’re here at my place instead of doing that.” You have your apartment to yourself for once, your roommate gone for the weekend to stay the night at one of her girlfriends’ apartments. “Shouldn’t you be out doing your homework?”

“I can’t visit my best friend from time to time?” Makima implores as if she is surprised by your own inquiry

“That isn’t what I asked,” yet you already know the answer. You aren’t completely well-acquainted with Aki Hayakawa. He’s a friend of a friend and you see him from time to time when said friends throw parties or have other get-togethers. Those were enough encounters for you to know the man is absolutely smitten with the redhead in front of you, spooning a piece of the tiramisu she brought over. He’d do anything Makima asked of him with more enthusiasm you could ever produce.

Unsurprisingly, Makima confirms what you already suspect. “Hayakawa told me he could do the rest of it,” she replies lightly with a smile. And there we go. You wonder what the poor sap sees in her when you know Makima doesn’t see him as more than an amusing puppy chasing after her braid. “I wanted to visit because I thought you might be lonely. Here,” she raises her spoon towards your lips. “I made this for you.”

“Nah I’m good,” Makima’s baking isn’t necessarily the problem. It’s the measurements, her measurements just aren’t for you.

“You said you wanted to try tiramisu recently,” Makima counters, her hand not moving an inch.

“First, I mentioned that in passing,” you raise a finger and quickly follow it with another. “Second, I also said I was going to try it out with Quanxi next Saturday.” One of her girlfriend’s, Long, is having a birthday celebration at an Italian restaurant. “They say patience is a virtue, I can wait.”

“I think it’s a voluntary virtue when it comes to food,” Makima lowers her hand for a moment. “Are you just trying to say you don’t want to eat my baking?”

You snort, “that’s exactly what I’m saying, yes. I trust your cooking, not your baking. You have never gotten the right amount of sugar that I can stomach.” You’ve never been able to eat things too sweet. Even as a child you would scrape off most of the frosting on cupcakes, sliding it onto Makima’s plate who welcomed the additional sweetness.

“That’s a bit mean” that is hilarious coming from the undisputed Queen of Mean. You distinctly remember the time in middle school where Makima laughed at a scene of a protagonist crying over the death of a friend. That in itself was ironic coming from the same girl who, at the beginning of that same semester, clutched your shirt and sobbed like it was the end of the world when you found out you shared zero classes and had separate lunch periods. “I worked hard to make this for you. You should spoil a person more when you’ve known them since you were 6.”

You distinctly know the spoiling she is referring to is about herself. “I always spoil you,” I’ve been doing it since we were kids. It crosses your mind, not for the first time, that if it weren’t for your parents, you are sure you and Makima would never have become friends.

Your mom was her mom’s friend in university and by some chance, they ended up enrolling you both at the same school and found out when you were both picked up later after classes. There began your days of playing whatever game Makima desired and your possessions somehow becoming her possessions. Whenever you voiced your grievances to your mom, however, she always told you to be kind and understanding in a tone that let you know that you recognized even now. A tone that says “this has something to do with something we adults discussed”.

It didn’t take too long for you at that age to notice the traces of what your mother was likely referring to.

You never saw much of Makima’s parents when you were younger; you don't see much of them now.

School events, holidays and a few random things in between. It wasn’t Makima’s family that shared them with her but yours. That realization made you think back to the times you would complain about mandatory family time and your mother would rebuttal, “not everyone is lucky to have parents that love them so much, [First], you should be grateful.”  

Indulging Makima became habit after that as long as it was in reason.

You’re sure there is a part of her that resents you choosing to room with a classmate rather than her though. 

“Just try it,” Makima raises her spoon again and, with a sigh, you relent. 

Almost immediately, you balk at the taste, nose scrunching in displeasure. “Like I said,” you grab Makima’s cup of black tea and down a large mouthful. “You always make things too sweet. This is why I’m gonna eat it at a restaurant with an actual baker.” 

You lay your head on the foot of the couch, rejecting the too-sweet tiramisu in its entirety. “I’ll just make Quanxi pay for it when I order it. She owes me for what happened last weekend.” You aren’t one to knock someone getting laid but your roommate fucking her girlfriends loudly all night the night before you had a exam was evil. All she did when you banged on the door to keep it down was toss her noise-canceling headphones before closing it again. At least when I fuck in the house I have the decency to keep shit down, you grumble internally pushing away the fact Quanxi technically also offered to let you join in the fun.

You probably would have joined if you weren’t sleep-deprived and irritated.

C’est la vie.

“[First].”

“Hmm,” you hum in response without opening your eyes. Your eyes find themselves opening a moment later when you feel the distinct feeling of another body over your own, Makima placing her legs on either side of your hips as she sits on your lap. 

Red frames gold as she looks down on you and you stare back wordlessly before her lips press against yours.

It fascinates you how someone so manipulative and cruel can be so sensitive and needy.

Cruelty comes easy to Makima, no different than a child experiencing troubles at home taking out their frustrations on a random kid at school.

She’s angelic in appearance, devilish in nature.

She wants to be treated gently when she is incapable of treating people gently herself.

By your second to last year of high school, you wondered what your relationship meant about you. 

Knowing her ways yet staying her friend regardless which only birthed the question as to why you remained her friend. It donned on you not too long after that the reason was pity when you held a distraught Makima in your arms in your room when a former mutual friend stated his intentions not to associate with her any longer. You remember finding it strange that she was so upset when you didn’t think Makima even considered Madoka to be a friend in the first place.

She said as much when you asked her before the event transpired.

“He’s more like an acquaintance, they all are,” Makima had told you. “But not you [First], you’re my real friend.”

The only one she has.

It dawned on you then if Madoka wanting nothing to do with her could make her cry, you doing the same would make Makima undoubtedly break. It’s ironic how the loneliest people can be the most sadistic.

So she can be cruel; as long as that cruelty never turns to you, you will continue to be there even when you are sure you both know that your friendship has long since passed the expiry date. You’ll be there when she needs to cry, you’ll accompany her on walks for her dogs and you’ll lay her down in your bed when she wants to feel the skin of another on her own like you are now.

Makima’s arms tighten around your shoulders, hips bucking as the butt of your palm rubs against her clit as you thrust your fingers inside her. She’s absolutely soaked and you can’t help relishing that fact as Makima moans your name like it’s the only word she knows.

Maybe this was inevitable, the two of you like this, you think vaguely as you leave a trail of wet kisses from her breasts to her belly before settling between her legs. You lap at her core slowly, bringing one of your hands to clasp her own and Makima intertwines her fingers between yours tightly.

You press one finger in her pussy, sucking on her clit.

You add a second when you kiss her folds.

You continue thrusting your fingers once you add a third and Makima moves her hips to press into your ministrations. It takes a few moments to find a rhythm, alternating between licking and maintaining the movement of your finger. It doesn’t take much longer for Makima’s thighs to tighten around your head, coming with a soft cry.

You pull out your fingers, vaguely acknowledging the ache in your wrist and glance in her direction. From your position you can see her chest heave up and down, hand tightly gripping yours as she reels from the aftershocks. If she held it any tighter, you’re sure it would break.

With two light taps on her hip, Makima loosens her grip on your head tiredly and you kiss her inner thighs before finally moving to lay on your pillow beside her. It takes a moment to pull your hand away from hers, Makima’s grip iron tight. “Hey, I need that hand to hug you, weirdo,” is all it takes for her hand to loosen its hold and gently you take back your hand.

There is no fighting against your tugging as you pull Makima into your chest like you’ve done many times before holding firmly but gently, just as she likes. You don’t comment on the soft sniffle you hear, it’s an unspoken rule for you both not to point out when she cries during sex. Almost instinctively, Makima presses herself even closer as she wraps her arms around your waist. Sometimes you wonder if she is trying to live in your skin.

“[First],” Makima murmurs almost too softly for you to hear when she’s wound down.

You fiddle with a lock of her hair, “What is it?”

“Stay the night with me tomorrow,” her nails dig into your back and you note she sounds almost uncertain in her command. Desperate.

You close your eyes, tired. “We can go in the morning.”

[thyknife]

Hi I’m insane!

I wrote this awful little thing in an absolute delirium right after I got home from seeing the movie.

And if there’s one thing I’m going to be, it’s a shameless apologist for the most irredeemable character in any piece of media.

Also, mind the tags.

Selfish

Fandom: Twisters (2024)

Relationship: Tyler Owens/Scott

Yes, Scott.

SCOTT!

Rated: M

Summary:

There’s no way to escape the swirling beast headed directly for him and the tiny country town beyond. There’s not enough time to run nearly a mile-wide.

🌪️

[doverstar]

"Life, my life. Sometimes it feels sort of…not quite…real."

Visuals For My Fics: Will "Eleven" Mott from Lost and Rewritten

[gardenoblues]

Tyler: Did you know that atoms never touch each other?

Tyler: and since we're made of atoms, we've never touched anything in our entire lives.

Tyler: So to answer your question Sheriff, No, I did not wreck Xavier's mural.

Xavier: *sobbing on a corner

Sheriff Galpin: *sighs

[thirdeyeblue]

Just an audio clip/appreciation post for the wonderful book (AKA canon fanfiction) known as ‘The Stone Rose’ by Jacqueline Rayner. This is near the end of the story, where the Doctor has Rose cross into his timeline to assist his past self [who’s desperately searching for her after he learns she’s been turned to stone].

The audiobook is narrated by David Tennant, because of course it is:

Rose had just settled down and adjusted the metal box thing over her mouth, when the door to the shrine opened. She peered through Fortuna’s legs and saw that, yes, it was the Doctor. He saw the statue. She shrank back as he hurried forward. . . and then he realised that it wasn’t her.

Rose was taken aback. She hadn’t known - how could she know? - what her disappearance had done to him. This Doctor had a look of such despair in his eyes that her heart almost stopped in pity. She wanted more than anything else in the world to jump up, go to him, tell him that everything was going to be all right.

But, what with possibly ripping time and space apart, that was probably a bad idea.

‘Rose is prettier than you,’ the Doctor suddenly said.

[afrogwhocantdraw]

SBG Spider-Au intro: Taylor (part 1)

_____________________________________

Okayyy for what is *definitely* not going to be the last time, let's do this

My name is Taylor Hernandez. I was bitten by a radioactive spider a year ago and for 7 months. I was the one, and only, Spider woman.

During that time, I did the regular:

Spend almost 3 weeks trying to figure out how this thing actually works (my patience definitely took a hit)

try my best to lie to my brother (how he remained clueless I'll never know)

And, of course (as the job entails) fight crime

Yknow I don't think I ever realised how much villainy there actually WAS in our area until I was the one having to deal with it but after not very long, beating up bad guys became the norm for me.

After a while though, I started noticing things, I'd catch glimpses of movement in shadows, hear russling in bushes whenever I passed by, and the ever growing feeling of being watched started becoming worse and worse.

It became unbearable, whatever or whoever was following me clearly had a reason to, and whatever that was it probably related to that biology trip months ago. Where it all started. So I decided to do some digging to try find out how I even became like this in the first place.

They might say curiousity killed the cat, but surely it couldn't kill a spider, right?

_______________________________________

The drawing in the first image is referenced from this photo I found on Pinterest!!

And the last image is referenced from this photo of ghost spider I found on Google

[imagoosemotherfuckers]

The tragic thing about being a writer is I can be endlessly witty, clever, and funny but I will never write anything half as iconic as "stitch this mate"