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realcube · 4 years ago

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The Maid Café || Saiki K x Reader

summary: nendou and kaidou keep pestering saiki to visit their favourite maid café but he shuts them down every time. however, after a bit of prying they manage to convince him to give the place a try and while they are there, you just so happen to be on shift.

tw// cussing, maid café, (she/her) reader

key:

“non italicised text” = somebody besides Saiki speaking

“italicised text” = Saiki telepathically communicating

‘italised text’ = Saiki’s thought

‘Of course Nendou and Kaidou would be into maid cafés of all things — not cat cafés, not internet cafés — it just had to be maid cafés.’

Saiki’s internal monologue began as Kaidou continued gushing on about the cute lady he met at the café a few days ago as an argument to why Saiki should join them next time they go. Not to say Saiki wasn’t listening as he felt extremely sorry for whatever lady had to tolerate Kaidou’s advances and his prayer went out to her but besides that, he really couldn’t care less about the maids or the café.

Until, his attention was involuntarily aroused at the vocalisation of his name from Nendou, “Saiki’s definitely in for Friday, I’m pretty sure I sold him when I told him that the sandwiches there are almost as good as the ramen we usually get.”

‘No, you didn’t. I won’t be coming to join you on Friday. I’d much rather stay--’

Somehow Kaidou managed to cut off Saiki’s internal monologue with his annoying voice, “Don’t be silly, Nendou. You’re not going to win Saiki over with such a ridiculous comparison, one that he clearly doesn’t care about.”

‘Am I delusional? Is this a hallucination? Or did Kaidou just say something logical and based in reality?’

Kaidou’s aura immediately changed to dark and sinister as a mischievous smirk crossed his face, the background squawks of the crows suddenly became much louder for some unknown reason. “Instead, you must locate your opponent's weak point before you can recognise the crucially important moment to exploit it. The process takes patience but it is one I have learned from my many years rebelling against Dark Reunion. Now, young Nendou, watch and learn.” He finished with a dramatic flip of his school jacket which was slung over his shoulders as a cape.

‘What was all that about?’

Saiki wondered before Kaidou turned to him, much less brooding than he was a few seconds ago, and said casually, “Your loss if you don’t come, Saiki — you’ll be the one missing out on some of the best desserts in our whole town — not to mention the coffee jelly.”

✿✿✿✿✿

‘How do I always end up losing to these people? I am a psychic for god’s sake!’

Saiki mentally cursed himself out as he stood shamefully in front of the maid café, wearing a carefully curated outfit — including his germanium ring — created especially to hide his identity from anyone from his school that might pass by the café and spot him in there through the window or something. Honestly, he wouldn’t be caught dead in a maid café, or so he thought.

However, all the reviews he read along with both Nendou and Kaidou’s thoughts helped him conclude that this place’s coffee jelly and general dessert selection is nothing to sneeze at. In fact, his favourite Tumblr blog - DeadlyDesserts11037 - visited the place and gave it a 5 star review, recommending everybody who happens to pass by the town to definitely check the place out. After that, he was sold.

Saiki looked over at his friends and couldn’t help but facepalm in response to their bright red, thrilled expressions. “Good grief, please don’t tell me you are both that excited over ladies in maid outfits.” As you might’ve guessed, Saiki didn’t really understand the concept of a ‘maid café’, so he simply assumed the male obsession with maids had something to do with the objectification of women hence he obviously did not want to take part.

“Saiki, you’re seriously just built different if this doesn’t touch your soul.” They both brushed the pink-haired boy’s comment off, completely mesmerised by the sight of a particularly pretty maid-lady walking by the window — probably on her way to serve a table — carrying a notepad in one hand and a plate with a scrumptious-looking coffee jelly on top.

Saiki followed their gaze, his breath hitching at the sight. He was speechless; no sarcastic comment, no running commentary, nothing. Just..woah! If he had known that the girls that work at this place were so gorgeous and the food looked so delicious, he would’ve came a long time ago.

He wasn’t even sure which one he wanted more; the girl or the jelly. In a way, one wasn’t complete without the other because the coffee jelly which she held high next to her head brought out her (E/C) eyes while her shapely figure highlighted the defined curves of the jelly. Drool was quick to start forming at the corners of his lips but he was even quicker to wipe it away; he was starving.

“We’re going in.”

✿✿✿✿✿

To Saiki’s dismay, it was not the stunning (H/C)-haired girl who he had caught a glimpse of through the glass that ushered them to their table. Rather, it was a slightly less gorgeous maid-lady who had long, bright purple hair which was clearly a wig.

Fortunately for him, after she left Kadiou, Nendou and himself to take their seats, she rushed off saying that someone will come take their orders whenever they are ready.

Even with his psychic abilities, there wasn’t much he could think of to alter fate so the pretty coffee-jelly lady would end up serving their table, and besides that, he was way too caught up in gawking at all the mouth-watering desserts they had pictured on the menu.

Simply glancing over the menu brought a stupid grin to his face, he wanted to try every delectable treat presented in front of him. However, he knew he must exhibit restraint, which was fairly simple as he knew deep down there was only one thing on the menu that he was truly after. You guessed it — coffee jelly.

Usually, he couldn’t care less about what his friends comrades were going to order but in this case, he was tempted to try convince both Kaidou and Nendou to order something he liked so he could take a bite of whatever they were having, “What are you two going to order?”

Yet again though, he was ignored as Nendou and Kaidou were both too busy checking out other types of snacks to care about the ones on the menu.

Then, a movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention so his head jolted from the menu to his new target, the beautiful girl he had saw through the window earlier. Previously, she was holding a coffee jelly but now she was basically empty handed, until she approached the table and pulled out a notepad and pen, “May I take your orders?” She asked in the most calming, melodious voice Saiki had ever heard, the sounds that left her mouth were nothing short of angelic. Which made sense since her serving their table must’ve been god’s gift to Saiki for all his hard work.

Chills, Saiki got literal chills before he mused, “A coffee jelly, and two brownies for the pair of clowns.” His blood ran cold; curse his smooth sarcastic comments! Most of the time, he was able to filter himself but due to the nerves that arose while talking to you, he probably shouldn’t be surprised that he had a little slip of the tongue. But now, you probably think he is a bitch that insults people on the regular; which he is, but not usually aloud! Plus, he couldn’t even tell what you were thinking due to his germanium ring and your distant expression, awful combo!

While he was in the middle of feeling bad for himself and considering teleporting away home, a miracle happened, you burst out laughing. And somehow, your laughter was even more silvery than your voice.

Saiki had zoned-out from pure shock for a moment before coming back to reality, noticing that you had started jotting down something in your notepad, a sweet smile still lingering on your face despite the fact you had stopped laughing. “Alright, so one coffee jelly and two brownies. Anything else?” You asked, glancing back and forth between the three equally unique and strange men sitting at the table.

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Saiki telepathically communicated as he usually did, considering actually using his mouth to speak for a change so he didn’t seem weird but in all honesty, he couldn’t be bothered. In any other situation, he would’ve gotten a drink of water or perhaps hot cocoa but right now he was way too afraid of making another error in his speech to request something else.

Silently, he extended his arm to hand you the menu he was given when he entered the café, along with the ones Kaidou and Nendou were given too. His actions single-handedly shooting down your plan of leaning across the table to ‘take the menus’ but in reality it is just a subtle way of showing-off how nice your torso looked in this maid outfit, a trick you learned from your supervisor.

You nodded, closing over your notepad and making your way over to the kitchen, being sure to swing your hips just a little bit extra to impress the pink-haired megane at the table you just took an order from. You mentally cursed your stupid brain though for always crushing on guys/gals who don’t seem the least bit interested in you. In this case, the guy’s attention was divided between his star-struck friends and the desserts on the menu, rather than you which was an unusual sight in a maid café considering that most people would only come to ogle at the waitresses.

✿✿✿✿✿

“So, Saiki.” Kaidou finally landed back into reality after a large chunk of the waitresses roaming around were now in the kitchen which he didn’t have viewing access to, “What did you order us?”

‘So, he was fully aware that the waitress came to take his order, he just chose to ignore her and left me to order his food. What a child, it must be a side-effect of his eighth grade syndrome.’

Saiki couldn’t help but sigh, “I ordered you both brownies.”

Kaidou stuck out his bottom lip to form a pout as he crossed his arm over his chest like a toddler, “I hate brownies.” He muttered to himself, realising that if he wanted something done right, he’d have to do it himself.

An amused smirk tugged at Saiki’s lips but he resisted the urge to laugh, ‘I know.’ He thought, his masterplan to eat more food without looking greedy falling into place. “Oh well, more for me then.”

Suddenly, Nendou spun his head around to abruptly join the conversation, “Hey guys, did you see the hottie that was serving our table?” He inquired with starry eyes, as if he was a kid in a candy store.

Saiki nodded, ‘Obviously I did, you moron. I was the one who ordered the food for goodness’ sake!’

Kaidou shook his head, his eyes lighting up as he leaned in close to Nendou, “Nope! I was busy looking at the other girls, but tell us!”

Nendou chuckled at Kaidou’s enthusiastic reaction before glancing to the side, outstretching his arm and pointing at the waitress that was now approaching the table with the food in her hands. “There she is!”

‘Don’t point at her, you idiot!’ Saiki mentally insulted his friend but instinctively followed the guidance of the tip of his finger until his eyes landed on your shapely figure — accentuated by the nature of the maid outfit — slowly heading toward his table, holding the coffee jelly and the plate of brownies in the same graceful way you did when he saw you through the window.

The gleam of your gorgeous hair, the movement of your luscious lashes, the gentle bounce of your upper body, how your perfectly manicured nails clutched the base of the jelly glass; everything about what he was seeing made him believe that if/when he were to die, this would be his ideal first sight as he passed through the gates of heaven.

Before he knew it, you had reached the table and placed his jelly down on the table, gently nudging it towards him, “One coffee jelly for the cute boy with antennas.” You mused, making Saiki’s heart flutter in a way he was unfamiliar with. Then, you placed the brownies in front of Kaidou and Nednou who sat opposite from Saiki, “And two brownies for the clowns.”

If it wasn’t for the fact the pair of clowns were too busy leching over you in your maid outfit, they’d probably be curious as to your choice of words but luckily for both you and Saiki, they were way to entranced by your visible bra strap to care about the little nickname.

Saiki felt a light blush creep onto his face, which only got worse as you discretely sent him a playful wink before turning on your heels to stroll back to the kitchen, “If you need anything else, just give me a wave.”

All of them hummed agreement in unison until the waitress was out of sight, giving Saiki a moment to process the events that had just went down. Not only did you refer to him as ‘the cute boy with antennas’ but you also winked at him, if that wasn’t a clear sign you were interested, what was? However, Saiki still had his doubts since this was a maid café after all, perhaps you were just trained to do that with all your customers.

Luckily, the had the foresight to slip off his germanium ring to read your mind and that helped him come to the conclusion that you were either interested in him or you were just very competitive as the whole time you were serving the table your thoughts were along the lines of;

‘I’ll adjust my skirt- Ha! You looked! Try resist falling for me now, you hot lil’ megane! Your heart is mine and I know it! See, I’ll fidget with my corset too-- just make a move already, pinkie!’

Although he didn’t appreciate being called ‘pinkie’, he had no right to judge what was going on in your brain. All he could do is be thankful that you didn’t say that aloud.

✿✿✿✿✿

You sighed as you noticed the pink-haired boy and his little posy exit the establishment without so much as a goodbye, or even a wave!

It was disappointing as you had already mentally planned your future with this guy and he had the audacity to do the real life equivalent of leaving you on read. But oh well, it would be approximately a week until you developed a crush on a random customer that lasts for around 30 minutes and for the time being, you can focus on doing your job.

You glumly shuffled over to their table to gather their plates to be washed, then a piece of colourful paper attached to the empty jelly glass caught your eye. As you held up the glass to inspect it further, you realised that it was a sticky note with a message written on it in black ink and neat, cursive handwriting. It read:

‘Dearest waitress,

Thank you for the excellent service, we (myself) tipped accordingly.’

You hadn’t finished reading yet but you were curious as to what he meant by that, and apparently you service must’ve been exceptional as the writer had left a whole ¥2000 tip. That’s a huge addition to the demonia fund.

Followed by this charming little message was an extra tip for you; the writer’s phone number! Meaning that this little sticky note was something you had to protect with your life..so you shoved it in your bra for safe-keeping.

But not before taking a moment to giggle with delight at who the note was signed by,

‘Sincerely, the hot lil’ megane (aka Kusuo Saiki)’

#saiki no psi nan #kusuo saiki x reader #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki k x reader #saiki x reader #saiki headcanons #saiki k headcanons #kusuo x reader #saiki kusou no psi nan #kusou saiki x reader #saiki fluff #saiki k fluff #saiki k oneshot

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winderlylandchime · 2 years ago

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Don’t Call It a Comeback (or, On Health and Happiness)

I’m sitting at my desk in my home office surrounded by my two dogs and one of my two cats. It’s a rare rainy day in Los Angeles and, while it might seem contraindicated, the change in weather from warm and sunny is great for my mood. I have strong coffee and a bubbly water within arm’s reach. I’m wearing a t-shirt and blazer, jeans, house shoes, and my hair is brushed and my make-up in on. This is relevant. I have my first appointment of the day in a half hour. I’m back on tumblr, albeit with a new name.

I last posted to tumblr more than a year ago... actually just under exactly 18 months ago. I had to leave. I didn’t want to delete my tumblr because I had put time and effort into curating this stupid little blog. I made friends here. Many of us have drifted. That’s on me.

Depression steals so much. The fandom I was a part of imploded and I became obsessive around it. Obsession is something I have come to learn is a bright red flag my depression waves. Obsession is also not the right word, compulsive captures some of it but I’m also wary of these words and the very specific medical meanings they carry. I do not have OCD, I have depression. A constant gray companion that sunk me into a cloud of nothing, a hazy dream world of monotony and an endless seeking for that next dopamine hit from the next social media post that fills that exact craving I’m compulsively looking for. I spent my days sleeping until just before my first appointment of the day, I would throw on a reasonably professional top, pull my hair up, and face the screen. I would resume scrolling in the in-between times... life became small. Tumblr got changed over to Instagram for my endless scrolling. I gained weight (this is not a moral judgment on weight gain or loss but the fact is that I gained weight, I stopped fitting into my clothes, we live in a society colored deeply by fatphobia and diet culture, it was hard). I lost myself. I did the bare minimum of work. None of it felt good. I woke up every day asking myself, “in what ways will I disappoint myself today?”

It felt ridiculous that someone in her 40s and who is a mental health profession could struggle so much. And yet, here we were.

Recovery started where so many things start, with the people. No one knew how deeply depressed I was. Not even my sweet spouse. But the people helped nonetheless. My spouse listened as I confided how much I had been struggling. My friends just persisted. I got closer to people I had been less acquainted with. I threw myself into a course related to both my profession and to my personal work to heal. I met people through there.

I started taking walks. At first I walked to my favorite tea shop and got milk tea and chocolate croissants every day. Then I started doing a loop around my neighborhood. The loop became two miles. I returned to practicing yoga weekly at my beloved gym. Occasionally, I lifted a weight or two. Very occasionally.

I became infuriated when walking worked. Like so very angry. The stupid thing about getting outside and seeing the sun and moving my body actually worked.

I have tried to spend less time on social media and see it as a dark mistress that tempts me away from my first, true love: reading.

There have been hiccups, of course. I got covid and had some significant symptoms. My apartment flooded... twice. I am still dealing with those repairs. My mother is in her 80s and the pandemic has not been kind to her.... a stroke, hearing loss (which is correlated with cognitive decline). I’m an only child and I live across the US from her and my dad. It is not easy to witness from afar. Anything that throws off my routine has the potential to start a slip back into depression. I’m still working on getting back to my routine of walking, meditating, and doing some spiritual practice/journaling after a bad cold. My body is still larger than it was.

There has been help from acupuncture and microdosing.

I remain a work in progress. Because I am alive. But I am doing better. Now. For now. I wanted to return to tumblr because it has brought me joy. I hope to engage here in a different way than before. I’m not active in any fandoms currently and how to be a little more distant. I hope to return to the joy of fandom but I don’t choose them, they choose me.

So I’m back. But, you know, don’t call it a comeback.

#personal #on depression and recovery #depression #recovery #i just wrote this so forgive the lack of editing #winderlylandchime

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scoopsgf · 4 years ago

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okay so you know those posts that are like basically saying stuff like ‘minors should know little to nothing about (instead thing here) and if they do then that means the internet has damaged them and they should reevaluate their time on here’ and like I get that it’s coming from a well-meaning place but those posts always make feel so bad about myself because I didn’t get to not know about more mature stuff. some of it was internet trauma when I was 10 and sneak onto the computer but some of it

(2/?) was from irl stuff and I didn’t get to control that. I learned about the more adult stuff because I was there and I shouldn’t have been freely ranging the internet when I was 10 but I was a literal child, and I didn’t know any better and now it just makes me feel terrible reading those posts because I get the internet is not a safe space and even if you carefully curate stuff things can still get through but that doesn’t mean I have to leave it altogether. like I’ve made sure now to only read

(3/?) and interact with stuff that I know about already without needing to look it up but because of trauma that’s more than probably the average teenager and most of my trauma wasn’t only from the internet and it’s not like I’m full out blogging about super mature stuff because I don’t like that stuff anyways but I still know about it and I feel invalidated by those posts that say I should t because I was never able to stop myself grom knowing about it and they all make me feel like it’s my fault

(4/?) like I understand those posts are well-intentioned and I don’t think that people should intentionally expose themself to stuff that’s too mature but I think they shouldn’t be shamed or have to feel called out for already knowing about that stuff and with everything else going on now I understand that a lot of people are panicking and especially most minors probably don’t know their limit with exposure to it but I have learned to know my limits better and not expose myself to too much and I’m sur

okay I think the asks got cut off, but I’ll answer what I can. First off I just wanna say that those posts are bullshit. like it’s true, they’re sometimes well-intentioned, but everyone is gonna have a different experience online and irl. i can completely understand why they would upset you the way that they have. though I understand the message, i hate the way they’re worded, you know? “minors shouldn’t know about x” “minors should have absolutely no idea what y is” etc. without knowing specifically what it is you’re referring to, I don’t want to provide specific examples of my own, but I don’t think we should ever let strangers on the internet dictate what we know and don’t know. it’s simply not their place to say. they have absolutely no right to judge you for what you do or do not know about.

if you want my real, honest opinion, I think those posts are pretty stupid. they’re mostly made by clout chasers looking for a bunch of people to agree with them and nod their heads like prim ladies at a damn bridge game. you know what you know. the internet is a vast place and it’s easy to accidentally stumble upon something you maybe shouldn’t, but it doesn’t make you wrong or bad for being exposed to something! it’s not ON you is what I’m trying to say. it’s not YOUR fault at all! none of this should ever make you feel guilty, and while I understand WHY you feel that way (because of the posts) I would respectfully like to crap all over the posts themselves because they are Just Dumb. you see what you see and experience what you experience and the only person in your life who gets to say whether or not those things will really affect you, is you. you are the one who should be able to decide how they make you feel, not a text post online. my best advice is really just to ignore them/label them as invalid in your own head. because that’s what they are. your opinion is valid, your reaction to what you see is valid, what you do with what you learn is valid. some dillhole looking for notes? is not.

#asks #anon #tw: trauma #anyway! let me know if you need to vent anymore!!!#these posts are def harmful and damaging to anyone who has experienced trauma #they always come across as someone in a high tower who doesnt understand even basic human psychology #they seem really victim shame-y #kids cant really control what they’re exposed to #it should be on the parents to try and filter out anything harmful #and if that isnt possible #i dont believe in putting a kid down for seeing/learning something they didnt even WANT to see/learn in the first place #its just Big Dumb energy

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 7 years ago

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So, further to my “You have colluded with Russian SPIES” email, because this is such a clusterfuck. To clarify, this is from the email:

While investigating (the spy accounts’) activity on Tumblr, we discovered that you either followed one of these accounts linked to the IRA, or liked or reblogged one of their posts:

Seems like quite a lot. Here’s the trouble: I severely limit how many blogs I follow on Tumblr, because I like to keep my dashboard manageable. I think I’m currently on 35, two thirds of which are on hiatus/inactive/post only on a blood moon when the signs are auspicious. So I know I’m not following any of them.

This means, therefore, I have either reblogged or liked a bunch of Russian spy posts.

So exciting!! What were they? What did they say? Did I like the posts? Did I like a debunking of the post? What happens now?!

You aren’t in trouble, and don’t need to take any action if you don’t want to. We deleted the accounts but decided to leave up any reblog chains so that you can curate your own Tumblr to reflect your own personal views and perspectives.

So, Tumblr has kindly left it to me to look at the posts in question and see what my links to Vladimir Putin are. Cool beans. I can find out what exactly about this Kremlin propaganda I liked so much.

...except I can’t. I have to find these myself, as they have not given links. Out of 24 blogs that were apparently Russian trolls (or vodyanoi, I guess?), only 6 (7, but two were on the same post) actually featured in reblogs that I can find on my blog. The rest are lost to me, because Tumblr is so pig-stupid you can’t search Likes.

So, the ones I can find.

Blackness-by-your-side posted this one. It’s a well-sourced post about child marriage in Florida, and how children are being forced to marry their rapists by their churches. The source was, in fact, the New York Times. It’s pretty legit.

Two from gogomrbrown: this one, about how the Americas pre-European colonisation was highly advanced (a matter of provable historical record), and this one, which was a copied thread from Twitter of a US Senator going through the health care plan from the Trump administration and explaining what the clauses would mean. This one really surprises me, because I was given to believe that the Russian spies were very pro-Trump; but then, I guess that was true because he’s such a weapon to wield.

One from lagonegirl (and ghettablasta - two for the price of one!): this post about an app called Solomon’s Shield created allegedly by a Black attorney for people (especially Black and other POC) to use when pulled over by law enforcement, so they know their rights. It would be worth checking that this app is indeed what it claims to be and doesn’t just mine all your personal data out of your phone, I guess. Don’t know how someone would go about that though.

One post from nevaehtyler about prison slave labour in the US, which is, again, a provable matter of public record.

One post from the-real-eye-to-see about how gay people in many places are banned from blood donation, something that is, again, a provable matter of public record.

This post by thetrippytrip about Dillon Reagan, a man who stopped a child from being kidnapped while at work and then got fired for not being at his post during the incident. I actually verified that story myself, at the bottom of the post.

Only one of those is not instantly verifiable as true and real. I’m not saying this is all bullshit, like, or that there are no vodyanoi; but I am saying, it’s not exactly disinformation or propaganda when it’s true, is it?

#infiltration of the vodyanoi

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chasholidays · 7 years ago

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Like, Love, Haha, Wow

A Followers timestamp for @spectacular-spectacular and @pottersandtheirredheads, whom tumblr will not let me tag. Thanks to @bgonemydear for graphic!

"I still don't understand how famous people go on the internet."

Clarke glances over at Bellamy, sees he’s on tumblr and his dashboard has presented him with a photoset of pictures of the two of them together, taken from Clarke's instagram.

"The same way regular people do, but our computers are better and our connections are faster."

He snorts. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Yeah, but I wanted to be a dick." She leans in to check the tags on the post: #clarke griffin #clarke griffin's incredibly hot boyfriend #seriously are we sure he's not a model? #or some kind of perfect human specimen she had custom made for her in a hot guy lab? #does anyone know where this hot guy lab is? #asking for a friend. "Who is this person? Are you following them? Which account are you on?"

It's not like he doesn't use bb-hate anymore, but he has had to cut back. It's not, exactly, that he has an internet presence he's embarrassed of, it's just that he has an internet presence he didn't think anyone would ever care about. He curates hollywood-histories carefully, but his personal blog was just that. With his own name in use, it didn't take long for the followers he had there to figure it out, and once one person started spreading the word among her fans, it caught on.

Apparently he's not used to getting anons asking for threesomes.

So he's largely abandoned that tumblr, only passed the new one along to mutuals he actually trusted, and he's rebuilding a new kind of internet footprint.

"This is the one I made to stan for you," he says, and she snorts.

"I forgot about that one."

"I was just checking the Clarke Griffin tag, but I decided I wanted to start actually keeping up with some of the fansites and BNFs. See if there was anything--bad, I guess."

"You know Raven does that, right?"

"We can both do it. You have plenty of weird fans to go around."

"I guess I'm just used to it," she admits. "All of it. I was raised knowing that people were interested in my parents, and interested in me. I knew about all this--stuff." He raises his eyebrows, and she shrugs. "There was a countdown website for when I turned eighteen."

"Jesus, really?"

She shrugs. "People are gross and women are oversexualized. That's why my mom didn't want me to come out as bi as early as I did, she thought it would make people worse. And maybe it did, I don't know. There was enough grossness that a little more didn't register. I did warn you," she adds, because she did.

"Is it worth it?" he asks.

"I think so. I don't know what else I'd do."

"That's a shitty reason to do anything," he teases.

"I like it. And it's been better, recently."

"Why?"

"You."

He actually looks surprised. "Me?"

"It's nice to have a personal life. And someone who's just--mine. I've never had that before."

He smiles, a pleased flush on his cheeks. "I like you too."

"So it's worth it to you too? Celebrity by proxy? Because it's going to get worse."

His expression falters. "Worse how?"

"We've got that premiere next week. Imagine how good they're going to think you look in a suit."

"I do look good in a suit." He kisses her hair. "It's mostly still--fucking surreal. That people are interested in me. I went from like fifty Instagram followers to twenty thousand. And I keep getting new ones. I don't even do anything on Instagram."

"I should be recording these conversations for my mother. She was so sure you were just using me to get famous, and every time you realize people know who you are it freaks you out."

"It's weird," he grumbles. "What's a red carpet like, anyway?"

"Depends on the red carpet. This one shouldn't be too bad. The movie's pretty small, so it's not like--legions of screaming fans or anything. You'll look nice, we'll get our picture taken, you won't be in some of the pictures because no one cares about you. Sorry."

"Yeah, we talked about this. I would love if no one cared about me."

"Most of your Instagram followers are just hoping you're going to post pictures of me, if that helps."

"Sort of." He clears his throat. "Look, it's not like--it's not exactly a downside for me. It's fucking surreal, don't get me wrong, and sometimes people will recognize me, which is weird. All my classmates know, and my professors, and sometimes people ask me about you. It's definitely weird, but it's not some huge burden. And at least the internet thinks I'm hot."

“Yeah, that’s a comfort.”

“It is. Not—I don’t need it for my self esteem or anything, but it would suck if the what’s she doing with that guy? tags outnumbered the good ones.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t be able to stalk me on tumblr.”

“And that would be the real tragedy.” He leans over and kisses her. “It’s worth it, Clarke. A lot worse than this would be worth it. I just still can’t believe this is my life,” he finishes, nodding to the tumblr post. It’s got almost 1500 notes, and as far as she’s concerned it deserves more. They’re really cute.

“I can’t either,” she says. “But maybe we’ll get used to it.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? You could find another escort.”

Clarke frowns at her mother. “That seems like a waste when I already have a boyfriend.”

Abby sighs. “I’m not asking because I don’t like him. I think he’s a very good boyfriend for you.”

A month ago, Clarke wouldn’t have believed her, but Abby really does seem to have come around on Bellamy. Clarke thinks it’s a combination the way he’s mildly terrified of cameras and his obvious and genuine adoration for her.

“So why are you asking?”

“Because I know how overwhelming public appearances can be. If he’s not ready, it wouldn’t be hard to find you some other company. One of your co-stars from Goredd, maybe, someone who obviously reads as a friend.”

“I think this is probably a good choice for his first one,” she says, slow. If Abby wants to have a real discussion of this, Clarke is game. “It’s not like there’s going to be a ton of press. If he can’t handle this, it’s way better for us to find out now, instead of letting him off the hook and bringing him to a blockbuster.”

Abby regards her for a moment, and then asks the question Clarke’s been expecting since she told her mother about Bellamy three months ago. “So, you think he’s going to be here for a while.”

"I want him to be. And even if I didn't, it seems stupid to plan around him not being around."

"That's not what I meant. You know how it is. I know how much he cares about you, but your star is on the rise. This is likely to get harder, not easier."

Clarke's not actually sure that's true. Bellamy is, honestly, the most interesting thing that's happened to her on a personal level in years, both for her and for the media. She's always been a disappointing child star, quiet and serious, and part of that has been that she's not necessarily interested in becoming a star. Prestige TV is a good fit for her, a schedule more like a regular job, time to really dig into her role, to get to know her character. Some of her co-stars are less enamored of it, don't like having to be doing the same thing for so long. Some people get into acting because they want a lot of roles, but Clarke is aware, always, that this isn't her passion, not like it is for a lot of actors. It's a day job, and TV shows make a better day job.

Her mother thinks that Goredd is the next step in her career, but Clarke's starting to wonder if it might be the peak. If this might be the height of her ambition. Not that she can't do movies sometimes, over the summer, but she thinks that being that kind of actress might not really be her goal.

It's possible it won't get worse. Especially as Bellamy stops being exciting. Her dating a grad student she met on the internet is a great story, and she can certainly get publicity out of it for now, but if they keep on being themselves, two nerds who like hanging out on the couch and watching bad movies, the opposite of an exciting tabloid cover story.

That could be enough for Clarke, as a future. A steady career, a quiet life, a boy she thinks she might already love.

"I want him to come with me," she says. "And he already got a tux."

"You already got him a tux."

"I'm a lot richer than he is," she says. There's clearly still a part of Abby that thinks Bellamy is taking advantage of Clarke's wealth, but Clarke couldn't live with herself if she made Bellamy rent his own tux to go to her event. If not for her, he wouldn't be going to this, and nice tuxes are expensive. Even just rentals. "If you say you like him, you have to actually like him."

"I like him." It's not even that grudging, when she says it. "But--he's nothing like I was picturing for your boyfriend."

"He's nothing like I was picturing either," says Clarke. "I'm just lucky, I guess."

"So is this premiere a quid-pro-quo situation?" Bellamy asks. He's straightening his tie and adjusting his hair in the mirror, and Clarke is watching him both because she likes watching him and because she knows she's set and she doesn't want to start obsessing over how she looks. Looking at Bellamy is a lot better.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He finally gives up on tweaking his appearance and sits down next to her on the bed. "I have the grad-school equivalent of a red carpet next week. I couldn't decide if I wanted to ask you to come or not, but then I realized I don't want to go alone."

"I'm not sure what the grad-school equivalent of a red carpet is."

"Department cocktail party. It's--everyone else is going to be bringing significant others, but I feel like if I do it I'm showing off. But that's bullshit. You're my girlfriend, I want you to come with me. And it's not like they don't know we're dating."

"Do you want me to come?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Then I'll come. Assuming I don't have a conflict."

His mouth tugs up in a small smile. "Thanks."

"That doesn't have to be a quid-pro-quo thing," she points out, bumping her shoulder against his. "You don't have to come to things with me to get me to come with you. That's just girlfriend stuff."

"I figure it's probably kind of--" He waves his hand vaguely. "It's like a public appearance. Those are stressful."

"It's not. I'm not there to be Clarke Griffin, I'm there to be your girlfriend. I can be polite and shut people down and shift focus to you."

His eyes narrow, expression clouding with suspicion. "I always forget you're actually good at this stuff."

"It's my job. Speaking of which." She exhales and stands. "The car should be here soon. Are you ready?"

"Almost." He stands himself, leaning down to press his mouth against hers, soft and brief, trying not to mess up her makeup. And then he sighs, gives her a crooked smile. "Okay, ready."

The movie is a fairly small independent, with good award buzz, but a limited release. It's very much a critic's movie, and Abby was the one who wanted her to take it, another positive step for her career as a serious movie actress. Clarke likes it well enough, but she's definitely a supporting player in a guy's life, not quite a prize, but not a fully formed character on the page. It's the kind of thing where she might get some nods for best supporting actress, even though she's third-billed, just because the story isn't enough hers.

If she'd been dating Bellamy when she was filming it, she probably would have complained a lot. As it is, she just says, "This is the film equivalent of when a white guy in his thirties tells you he's been writing a movie loosely inspired by his own life, just so you're prepared."

He snorts. "So, the main character is a writer going through a mid-life crisis? Are you the grad student he decides he needs to sleep with?"

"No, I would have vetoed that. It's not as bad a role as it could be, but you can tell that the writer assumed my character just stopped existing when a guy wasn't looking at her."

"What do you say about stuff like that? When people ask."

"Euphemisms, and then in like ten years I can be honest." She shrugs. "It's not as bad as some of them, I just wanted you to be ready. It's not my favorite project."

He squeezes her hand. "It's going to be fun. I haven't seen you on the big screen since we started dating. It'll be even weirder than regular TV. Do you take your shirt off? Is it that kind of indie movie?"

"Is that really a draw? You saw me naked like half an hour ago."

"I'm pretty sure I'm never going to get tired of seeing you with your shirt off."

She has to smile. "I think it's just down to bra and then the sex scene fades to black."

"Whatever, I'll take it. Anything else I need to be doing? Do you like your co-stars? Is anyone going to ask me any questions?"

"Just be yourself."

"Are you sure?" he teases. "Sometimes myself is an asshole."

"Just don't be honest about what you thought of the movie. Unless you liked it. You really don't have to be nervous," she adds. "I trust your judgement."

“Cool, can’t wait to break that trust.”

Clarke glances at him. “You aren’t actually nervous, are you?”

“No. Can I take a picture of us for my Instagram?”

“You want to?” she asks, surprised.

He huffs. “I’m going to the red carpet premiere of my girlfriend’s movie. This is exactly the kind of thing I want to be documenting on Instagram. If my thirty thousand followers want to say weird shit about it, I’ll live.”

She snuggles in close so he can get the shot. “I’ll tell Raven to share it from my account too,” she says, and he takes a few so they can pick the best one together.

The red carpet is, as always, kind of a weird zoo. She and Bellamy pose and smile, and she introduces, and he gives the right answers to all the questions he gets about if this is his first premiere and if he’s excited and what tux he’s wearing and what he’s studying.

For Clarke, it’s a lot better than she was expecting. Not that she thought it would be bad, but she never really likes these things that much. They tend to wear her out.

But she liked her co-stars, and she finds she’s looking forward to introducing them to Bellamy. Raven meets them there so she can do social media stuff and get free drinks, and suddenly it’s a lot less like a work event and more like seeing a movie with a couple of friends, albeit a movie that she’s in.

Plus, there are a lot of cute pictures of her and Bellamy in formalwear. She’s definitely happy about that.

“You could do this more often, right?” she asks, finding his hand in the dark before the movie starts.

He kisses her hair. “As many times as you want me to, yeah.”

Clarke Griffin fandom is, apparently, very excited about the pictures.

“There’s definitely a vocal minority that’s upset you’re dating a guy because it means you’re not a real bisexual,” he says. “But I’ve been fighting them.”

“You have? Really?”

“Don’t act like you don’t want to fight them.”

“Obviously, but I guess I usually don’t.”

He shrugs. “I’m not doing it as myself. I know how to sockpuppet. But someone needs to remind them what bisexuality means.”

“Are there a lot of cute pictures of us?”

“Tons. My selfie’s definitely the most popular.”

“Everyone likes a candid. And we're cute." She props her chin on his shoulder, closing her eyes. She had a long day filming, but she likes coming home to find him in her place. He hasn't officially moved in yet, but she gave him a key and he's around all the time, and Clarke loves it, loves coming home to find him there, making dinner or drinking tea or playing video games. "I'm really glad you came. To the premiere."

"Me too. I'm excited to go to more." She feels his lips press against her temple. "Seriously, I had fun. It wasn't hard."

"So what about yours? Grad-school red carpet. How am I going to do with that?"

"It's more similar than I thought it would be, honestly. Mostly a lot of drinking and schmoozing, but there's a speaker instead of a movie."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"No." He clears his throat and she opens her eyes to consider him, all perfect profile and freckles. "Just--I assume it's a lot weirder being the only famous person in the room than the only non-famous person on a red carpet. I don't know how anyone's going to act."

"You're a lot more likely to run into people being assholes to you in Hollywood."

"You say that, but academia's full of snobs, and you--" He worries his lip. "At least one person is going to be an asshole about how your highest degree is a GED. And you can deal with that, I know you can, I'm not worried. Just--I'm sorry it's going to happen."

Clarke smiles, kisses his jaw. "I'll be fine. I've had producers condescending to me since before I knew the word for it. It sucks, but that's not going to be new. And we can gossip about the assholes after."

"So, you're telling me this relationship might actually work?" he teases. "Who would have thought."

"Not to jinx it," she says, taking his hand and twining their fingers together, "but I really think it might."

She's pretty sure Bellamy is more nervous than she is about the whole thing, and Clarke will admit, she can't blame him. There's this inherent risk to bringing a high-profile guest anywhere, and bringing a B-list actress to an academic lecture is really a lot. The fact that she's his girlfriend and his bringing her is completely understandable only does so much good. She's still Clarke Griffin, and it's still weird for her to be here.

But she's not planning on going anywhere, so they should get used to her.

"You know, I've seen pictures, you talked about her, but I still didn't really think she was real," says the first girl they meet, Harper. "Or, you know, your girlfriend."

"That would have been the weirdest long con ever. Was I hacking her official social media accounts and no one noticed? She puts pictures of me on her Instagram."

"Technically my social media manager does that," Clarke says. "She says I'm not good at Instagram."

"You're not good at Instagram," Bellamy agrees. He considers Harper for a moment. "Were you guys betting on if she'd really show up?"

"Obviously. Not money, but--yeah, we were gossiping about it like every time you weren't around. Sorry!" she adds, flashing Clarke a smile. "Just--it sounds so fake."

"If I was going to make up a fake girlfriend, I wouldn't pick a famous actress. I would have said she lived in Canada like a normal person."

"I film in Vancouver sometimes. I could totally be your girlfriend who lives in Canada."

"Lives in LA, commutes to Canada sometimes."

Harper is watching them with a smile playing on her lips, but when Bellamy raises his eyebrows, all she says is, "You know, I can see it. I see why you guys are dating." She pauses. "But you didn't really meet on tumblr, right?"

It's not as representative of the evening as Clarke would like. His classmates are mostly fine, aside from the expected assholes, the ones he's been ranting about before they started dating. And it is nice to be able to put faces to the names, to meet the people who make up his day-to-day life.

But she hasn't felt so conspicuous in a while, and hasn't felt so guilty about it. She draws attention in a way she didn't want to, news that she's around spreading like wildfire, heads turning wherever she goes. And while Bellamy doesn't seem annoyed that she's drawing focus, he is clearly annoyed that everyone is being so, well, obvious.

"Fuck, you're just a person," he says, once they're on their way back to her place.

"Thanks."

The teasing tone doesn't quite land, and he deflates. "Sorry. I'm not--I shouldn't have asked you to come, I'm sorry."

"I don't mind," she says. "It's just--it's going to take some getting used to. More for them than for me. It's like Harper said, probably a lot of them didn't really get it."

"I tried to warn them."

She squeezes his hand. "Seriously, it's fine. I haven't felt weirdly famous in a while. It's probably good."

"Sure it is." He wets his lips. "You want to get used to it?"

"The lecture was really interesting," she says. "I wouldn't mind coming to more. And once Goredd wraps, I think I might want to get a degree? I don't know. I like school, I think it would be fun. So I should do that where you are, so everyone will be used to me."

After a second, he laughs, this soft, short little huff. "Sometimes I still can't believe you're--trust me, I want to still be your boyfriend when Goredd wraps. I want to be your boyfriend forever. But it's still hard to imagine. Having a future together."

"Yeah." She leans her head on his shoulder. "I love you," she says, soft. It's hard to know if it's too soon, but it doesn't feel too soon. She's been thinking it for weeks, and she's tired of not saying it, tired of thinking he might not know. "I'm not planning on breaking up with you."

"I love you too," he says, and tilts her chin up for a kiss. "So--we're going to get better at this stuff."

"Yeah," she agrees. "I think we'll be fine."

The next red carpet is six months later, and it's both a much bigger and much smaller deal.

"I'm not actually nominated for anything personally, so they're not going to want to talk to me too much. Just some sound bytes about the movie."

"I know you think this is helping, but we're still going to the Oscars."

“You don’t have to come.”

“It’s the Oscars, Clarke, of course I’m coming. Especially since you’re not sure you want to do more movies. This might be my last chance.”

“They invite me every year, I just usually don’t go. If you want to, we can whenever, but it’s honestly pretty boring.”

He pauses, and then starts to laugh. “Jesus, I can’t believe I’m dating someone who goes to the Oscars so often it’s not even novel anymore.”

“My mom used to make me com with her.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”

“Is there an academic equivalent of the Oscars? Do I go to that?”

“Probably graduation. I assume you’ll come to mine and skip it once I’m just a professor.”

“Just a professor,” she teases. “Like that’s not an amazing accomplishment.”

“It will be if anyone hires me. Until they do, I’m sticking to trophy boyfriend. Which is the other reason I’m coming to the Oscars. If I’m not around to be arm candy, what good am I?”

She tugs him down by the lapels of his tux, giving him a much quicker kiss than she’d like. Bellamy was basically made to wear formalwear; tumblr’s going to be so excited.

“I think you have a couple other things going for you,” she tells him.

“Maybe one or two, yeah.” He puts his arm around her. “I want another selfie. I think pre-red-carpet selfies are going to be my thing. I’m trying to hit fifty thousand Instagram followers.”

“Really?”

He reconsiders. “I want to hit fifty thousand, but I’m not really putting any special effort into it. But it would be cool, right? To have a tradition.”

“Yeah, a tradition would be nice.”

And it is nice, every single time.

133 notes · View notes

the-desolated-quill · 7 years ago

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The Day Of The Doctor - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

50 years, huh? Extraordinary.

Going into The Day Of The Doctor, I was already lowering my expectations. Not just because Steven Moffat was writing it, but also because multi-Doctor anniversary specials are generally never very good. Once you get past the novelty of Doctors meeting each other, you quickly realise that the stories are often weaker than a nun’s piss. While The Day Of The Doctor does fare slightly better than previous multi-Doctor stories, there are still a ton of problems with it.

Let’s start with the Doctors themselves. I was a little bit cross that there were no classic Doctors coming back (and no, the Curator doesn’t count). I wouldn’t have minded except apparently Moffat never even asked any of them. Some fans have given the excuse that you can’t use the original actors because they’re not as young as they were, which caused me to scoff and roll my eyes. Patrick Troughton and Jon Pertwee were both considerably older when they returned to play their respective Doctors in The Five Doctors over a decade after they left the role, but nobody batted an eyelid. It was just really cool to see them again. There’s no reason why you couldn’t have brought the classic Doctors back. Okay Tom Baker and Colin Baker have both put on a considerable amount of weight since the 70s and 80s, and neither Peter Davison nor Sylvester McCoy are as young and spry as they used to be, but once they’ve got the costumes on, nobody’s going to care about that. Ever heard of suspension of disbelief?

So the Doctors we end up getting are Eleven, Ten and Eight And A Half, aka the War Doctor. (The Ninth Doctor was originally intended to appear, but Christopher Eccleston turned it down, hence the creation of an all new Doctor. Why Moffat couldn’t have just used Paul McGann, I don’t know). It’s about what you’d expect. Three Doctors coming together and criticising each other’s attitudes and tastes in clothing, and admittedly it’s fun for about five minutes before you start getting bored and want Moffat to get the fuck on with it. I think I’ve mentioned numerous times now how annoying I find Matt Smith to be, so i don’t think I’d need comment on that further. While I don’t like Ten as much as everyone else does, it is good to see David Tennant again after all this time. It’s like he’s never been away. He’s got that same boundless energy and enthusiasm that you can’t help but find endearing. This story does however play at odds with where Ten is in his story. Remember for Ten this takes place between The Waters Of Mars and The End Of Time Part 1, where Ten is running from his own impeding death. Surely seeing his future self would affect him somewhat, right? Perhaps that was what all that ‘some new man goes sauntering away’ stuff in The End Of Time with Wilf was about.

As for the War Doctor... I must confess I’m slightly torn. I’ve mentioned before how I really don’t like the idea of a War Doctor that Eleven can conveniently blame so that he can stay as the pure saint with the unsullied past because it just simplifies the character to an insulting degree. And it’s funny because if you stop to think about it, outside of the big decision he has to make with the Moment, the War Doctor doesn’t actually have a character. We never really learn anything significant about him or what really differentiates him from his other incarnations. And yet I can’t help but find myself really liking the War Doctor. And I think that’s for two reasons. One is because of the late, great John Hurt. He gives an extremely good performance and he’s the one that keeps you engrossed in the character even when the writing doesn’t. And the second is that... Look, I have quite a few issues with New Who, and one of them is the more manic interpretations of the Doctor. And yes I know the Doctor has always been an eccentric, but it feels as though New Who have been pushing it to its absolute limit and beyond, to the point where we’ve now got Matt Smith’s Doctor who is just the most obnoxious character I’ve ever come across (in fact there’s a scene where the War Doctor pretty much sums up all my problems with Eleven by asking him “why are you so ashamed of being a grownup?”). And I recognise this is more of a personal taste issue. If you like that kind of manic Doctor, more power to you. I honestly don’t mind it in small doses. The thing is I grew up with the classic series (I used to watch them on old VHS tapes when I was a kid) and while I recognise the War Doctor isn’t very well written and that the reasons for his inclusion are incredibly stupid, I can’t help but instinctively be drawn to that kind of witty, reserved Doctor who can be a bit serious at times, but his hearts are always in the right place. That kind of Doctor just resonates with me more somehow and it’s a kind of Doctor that I really wish we could see more of in New Who.

Plot-wise, it’s all a bit so-so. Let’s start with the B story. Out of all the monsters Moffat could have picked to bring back for the 50th anniversary, why in God’s name did he pick the Zygons? I know classic series fans really like the Zygons, but for the life of me I can’t see why. They’ve only ever appeared in one story, Terror Of The Zygons, which, lets be honest, wasn’t really very good. Yes I know David Tennant loves the Zygons and I’m sure he was pleased as punch to get to work with them, but for the 50th anniversary? Are you fucking joking?

For the benefit of @captainivyb and others who are unfamiliar with the classic series, here is what the original Zygons looked like:

And now here are the new and improved Zygons:

It’s funny, isn’t it? State of the art special effects and a slightly bigger budget, and yet somehow the new Zygons look just as shit as they did back in 1975. I’m going to choose to believe that these new Zygons look deliberately shit so that they could pay tribute to the rubber latex monsters of Who’s past because if I have to accept the possibility that the New Who team honestly thought these new designs were good, I may have to sit in the corner and have a little cry.

I do like the idea of the Zygons hiding inside paintings. Wouldn’t it have been cool if maybe the Doctors went inside the paintings and had a bit of a gander? But no. Instead we get the really bizarre twist that the Zygons, a race of shapeshifting aliens, destroyed a bunch of statues and ground them into dust so they could hide underneath large sheets when UNIT arrives. Yeah, it’s a bit hard to be scared of monsters that have the same mindset as a child who think they’re invisible just by covering their eyes.

And why are the Zygons inside the paintings? Because they want to invade the Earth. Why they don’t just invade medieval Earth, I don’t know. Surely that would be easier than invading present day Earth. Less guns and nuclear bombs for one thing. Elizabeth the First (or at least a version of her that has been Pompadoured into the sassy, flirty woman that exists in all of Moffat’s stories) says that the Zygons are used to a certain level of comfort, but that’s bollocks, isn’t it? What could the super advanced Zygons with their biotechnology possibly want from present day Earth? It can’t be the Black Archive. How would they even know it exists before taking Kate Stewart’s memories? Do they want to borrow our Wi-Fi or something?

Cut to present day Earth and there is a genuinely good moment where Kate stands toe to toe with the Zygons and threatens to destroy the whole of London to prevent them from using the Black Archive. Jenna Redgrave gives a great performance here, channelling the Brigadier very effectively. It’s such a shame Moffat doesn’t do more with her character. (You may have noticed I haven’t mentioned Osgood yet... Well spotted). Then the Doctors show up to chastise Kate for her actions, using their own experience in the Time War to explain why before using the memory eraser thingy to make everyone forget whether they’re human or Zygon, forcing both sides to form a peace treaty. Yeah, because evil aliens hellbent on taking over the world are bound to stick to that once they get their memories back. (Also there’s a major continuity blunder here. Earlier we see a Zygon attack Osgood and assume her form, stealing her asthma pump. Osgood manages to escape and steal the asthma pump back. But at the end, Zygon-Osgood gives the asthma pump back. Huh?).

All of this is meant to cack-handidly tie into the Time War storyline and the Moment, which admittedly is slightly better. But first... is that it? Is that the Time War? Remember all the references that were made in the RTD era? The Jaws of the Nightmare Child. The Could Have Been King and his Army of Never Weres. People trapped in time loops, forced to relive their own deaths over and over again for all eternity. What do we end up getting? Some spaceships, a few lasers and explosions, and some screaming civilians. The Last Great Time War. The war to end all wars... and this is the best they could come up with? Sigh. I guess some things are best left to the imagination.

Also I could have done without Rose. Well... except she’s not Rose. She’s the Bad Wolf. Well... except she’s not the Bad Wolf neither. She’s the same Moffat female we’ve seen millions of times before (Has Moffat only ever met one woman is his life? That’s the only explanation I can think of for why all his female characters sound and behave the fucking same). Billie Piper does an okay job with the material she’s been given, but really, you could have picked anyone to play the Moment. Billie Piper is really only there for fanservice. (Moffat reportedly did not want to bring the Rose character back because he felt her story was wrapped up and he didn’t want to add anything to RTD’s arc. I want you to remember this people. It’ll become relevant later on).

The Day Of The Doctor is really about the redemption of the War Doctor. Him standing at the brink, prepared to make a terrible choice and is shown the consequences of his choice, whilst his future selves learn to accept and finally come to terms with the horrible decision they made. This aspect at least is done reasonably well. I liked the scene with the sonic screwdrivers and the ‘same software, different case’ metaphor. And by far the most powerful scene is when Ten and Eleven arrive to help the War Doctor push the button. It was incredibly moving and actually made me really emotional because it shows the Doctor at his core. It’s something I’ve been saying for years. He’s not a soldier or a hero or a warrior. He’s just some guy. To make the decision to destroy his own species in order to save the rest of the universe would be incredibly traumatising even for a trained soldier. For a simple traveller like the Doctor, it’s practically unbearable. So to soften the blow by allowing his future selves to come along and help him press the button so he doesn’t have to suffer alone is extremely touching. Plus the War Doctor is now reassured by the fact his future selves will do everything in their power to make things right and not allow others to make the same terrible choice.

...

How does Moffat fuck it up?

Oh yeah. You knew it was going to happen. Moffat is so insecure and so determined to trick his audience that he’s prepared to butcher perfectly decent stories in order to shove in some bullshit twist. And this is no exception. Rather than allow The Day of The Doctor to end on a sombre, but powerful note, Moffat decides to do the unthinkable and takes a great big shit all over it. Thanks to an intervention from Clara (ugh), the Doctor changes his mind and decides to use a stasis cube to trap Gallifrey inside a pocket universe, causing the Daleks to destroy themselves in their own crossfire, saving the Time Lords and everyone gets a happy little ending. Now look, I’m not necessarily angry that the Time Lords have been brought back from the dead. I’ve suspected the whole last of the Time Lords thing wasn’t going to be permanent since way back in 2005. What I am angry about is the insulting way in which Moffat does it. Remember when Moffat said he didn’t want to add to RTD’s arc? Well he seems more than happy to undo it completely just because it doesn’t fit with his vision of who the Doctor is. A vision that is utterly warped. Moffat has deluded himself into thinking the Doctor is this all powerful saint that can do no wrong and would never dream of doing something like destroy his own race, even though the show itself completely contradicts that. The Doctor has made morally dubious choices before. The Doctor has resorted to violence before. Okay he’ll always try to find a diplomatic and peaceful solution when he can, but when push comes to shove, he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty. The Time War is just the most extreme example of that. Yes it’s a horrible choice, but what’s the alternative? Letting the whole of time and space burn? As Eleven himself said, it wasn’t possible to get it right. And the psychological ripple effects of this choice makes the Doctor a far more interesting character. By erasing all of this, all of that complexity and character development as a result goes with it. Moffat tries to cover himself by saying that none of the past Doctors will remember this because of Moffat logic, but that just makes it worse because now Nine and Ten are suffering from PTSD and psychological trauma for no reason.

What The Day Of The Doctor proves without a shadow of a doubt is that Steven Moffat doesn’t in any way understand the show he claims to be a fan of. And if you need further proof of that, in the final monologue where we see Matt Smith standing in front of a really bad photoshopped ensemble of previous Doctors, the Doctor talks about how he dreams about going home. That has got to be the most unDoctorly thing I’ve ever heard.

War Doctor: “If I grow to be half the man that you are, Clara Oswald, I shall be happy indeed.”

Oh go fuck yourself Moffat!

#the day of the doctor #steven moffat #doctor who #eleventh doctor #matt smith #tenth doctor #david tennant #war doctor #john hurt #clara oswald #jenna coleman #daleks #zygons #time lords #bbc #review #spoilers

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givemethesauce · 6 years ago

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@staff so let me get this right. You decided to say that those who are losing their accounts was a glitch, but now you're admitting it that it wasn't a glitch that you are doing this on purpose.

Safety Locks

You had two locks for NSFW content one was in the settings that allow you to see most post if you unlocked it, then you had the lock in the filter bar. That's good enough. That was a way to keep the community safe. That's what was able to separate the NSFW from the others.

Creativity

The whole point of Tumblr at first was for people to show off their artwork or other people artwork. So NSFW content was something people had to so off ranging from people showing off their body to drawn content that was NSFW. For you to borrow from David Karp saying "we're proud to have inspired a generation of artist, writers, creators, curators, and crusaders to redefine our culture and to help empower individuality" is no longer being followed because NSFW is apart of that creativity, it's apart of that freedom, it's part of the community.

Age restrictions

You have the app on Google Play listed as rated M which is 18 and up. It's your job and the parents job. For you to do this because of under age joining is stupid, flat line stupid. Yes this is something for you to be concerned about, but you have the power to make that restriction better by making sure they can't take off the safety lock in the profile settings or the filter settings. And once again up to the parents to see what their child are looking at.

Love is fake from the CEO

I like how you're doing this because you claim that you're doing this for the community when you're only doing this because people are the ones at fault here for taking off the safety locks. "

For the people who complained

For those who are "thanking" Tumblr for doing this or who are "glad" Tumblr is doing this. You're the worst especially when you know about the safety locks. If you didn't like how a tag you had was in some NSFW post is your own fault. You're the ones to blame because you knew that by having both safety locks off you would be exposed to NSFW content. So stop it. Stop acting like Tumblr is being a hero for this. They're not. They're doing this because you wanted to be stupid by leaving the safety locks off.

A terrible, no longer positive Tumblr

The year is 2018 and Tumblr is killing itself by having all of the NSFW content creators/posters leave this place and go to other places like Deviant Art, Twitter etc. Who like them do show NSFW content. 2007 was bad when there was no way to separate the NSFW content and regular content. But then when they added the safety locks it was perfect and the second safety lock made it better, and safer. But now they're getting rid of that so only things that are deemed NSFW but isn't really pornography are "safe" for now but all that means is that they will be hunted down too in the future.

Final verdict

Tumblr is just a regular blog post where "creativity" is limited. This place will soon be filled with regular content but lost lots of their community due to this one stupid move.

A better, more positive Tumblr

Since its founding in 2007, Tumblr has always been a place for wide open, creative self-expression at the heart of community and culture. To borrow from our founder David Karp, we’re proud to have inspired a generation of artists, writers, creators, curators, and crusaders to redefine our culture and to help empower individuality.

Over the past several months, and inspired by our storied past, we’ve given serious thought to who we want to be to our community moving forward and have been hard at work laying the foundation for a better Tumblr. We’ve realized that in order to continue to fulfill our promise and place in culture, especially as it evolves, we must change. Some of that change began with fostering more constructive dialogue among our community members. Today, we’re taking another step by no longer allowing adult content, including explicit sexual content and nudity (with some exceptions).

Let’s first be unequivocal about something that should not be confused with today’s policy change: posting anything that is harmful to minors, including child pornography, is abhorrent and has no place in our community. We’ve always had and always will have a zero tolerance policy for this type of content. To this end, we continuously invest in the enforcement of this policy, including industry-standard machine monitoring, a growing team of human moderators, and user tools that make it easy to report abuse. We also closely partner with the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children and the Internet Watch Foundation, two invaluable organizations at the forefront of protecting our children from abuse, and through these partnerships we report violations of this policy to law enforcement authorities. We can never prevent all bad actors from attempting to abuse our platform, but we make it our highest priority to keep the community as safe as possible.

So what is changing?

Posts that contain adult content will no longer be allowed on Tumblr, and we’ve updated our Community Guidelines to reflect this policy change. We recognize Tumblr is also a place to speak freely about topics like art, sex positivity, your relationships, your sexuality, and your personal journey. We want to make sure that we continue to foster this type of diversity of expression in the community, so our new policy strives to strike a balance.

Why are we doing this?

It is our continued, humble aspiration that Tumblr be a safe place for creative expression, self-discovery, and a deep sense of community. As Tumblr continues to grow and evolve, and our understanding of our impact on our world becomes clearer, we have a responsibility to consider that impact across different age groups, demographics, cultures, and mindsets. We spent considerable time weighing the pros and cons of expression in the community that includes adult content. In doing so, it became clear that without this content we have the opportunity to create a place where more people feel comfortable expressing themselves.

Bottom line: There are no shortage of sites on the internet that feature adult content. We will leave it to them and focus our efforts on creating the most welcoming environment possible for our community.

So what’s next?

Starting December 17, 2018, we will begin enforcing this new policy. Community members with content that is no longer permitted on Tumblr will get a heads up from us in advance and steps they can take to appeal or preserve their content outside the community if they so choose. All changes won’t happen overnight as something of this complexity takes time.

Another thing, filtering this type of content versus say, a political protest with nudity or the statue of David, is not simple at scale. We’re relying on automated tools to identify adult content and humans to help train and keep our systems in check. We know there will be mistakes, but we’ve done our best to create and enforce a policy that acknowledges the breadth of expression we see in the community.

Most importantly, we’re going to be as transparent as possible with you about the decisions we’re making and resources available to you, including more detailed information, product enhancements, and more content moderators to interface directly with the community and content.

Like you, we love Tumblr and what it’s come to mean for millions of people around the world. Our actions are out of love and hope for our community. We won’t always get this right, especially in the beginning, but we are determined to make your experience a positive one.

Jeff D’Onofrio CEO

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winds--of--change · 7 years ago

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No.518

There is a fine line between an artist and a.... bullshitter. You can brag yourself an artist, saying you have an art soul or whatever in front of businessmen or those friends of yours who have little access to the art world since they were kids, for art and culture are something quite privilege. But you would obviously have to shut your mouth when finally talking to an artist yeah?

Well you have some little taste, something a bit ‘above’ average compared to those who do not even know what Art is, who has not been trained to develop a feeling for something, nor a development of taste. But what is your ARTS?

They are artists because they DO do arts, something, either from installation or performance or contemporary expression. It was a very cheesy super stupid question but I asked, after all, two artists out of all the resident artists today, one from Denmark and one from Canada.

Me: How do you become an artist? When did it begin?

D: Well I knew it since I was 16, my father and my grandfather were both painters, I did painting too, that’s why I went to the Academy for it [...] Yeah I have always been drawing, painting so that’s how things happen.

C: I guess because I have always been drawing since I was a child, I like drawing a lot, painting, then later I went to school... I guess because that’s what I am good at you know, and so I just continue on. I went to try performance art later, then graphic design, the performance art was, like, you know for dancing, you can actually see the artworks, but performance art is just once you act on stage in the play you can say ‘oh it’s the best one ever’ but you cannot physically show them anything you did, as it’s gone, but if you make the artworks it’s always there, the actual physical painting, or a work, so that’s why I come back to this.

....

It is kinda funny, among the artists, while being the only non-artists, where everyone’s first question to each other would be what your work is about and some mutual ideas of co-operation or exchanging inspiration and stuffs and one random person came up asking artists those simple-minded questions out of nowhere “So why did you become an artist? How did it happen?” blah blah blah... And when Emily was so nice introducing me to them, saying I am an artist (LOL) I can’t help feeling so shameful about such big title on my name tag. Then I must deny myself by all means, and one artist just simply helped me answer “So yes, but maybe no”.

As I said, there is a fine line between artists and non-artists. Such line means, there is never a ‘maybe’. You are either an artist, or NOT. Maybe artist is just another way to say I am just a bullshitter lol

Where is my artwork? Myself???? Can I say well Life is my studio, I paint my character by playing it in the field, the work is what happened, that I, being one of the most diligent disciple of Goldsmiths, went on practising its gospel in reality, just like ‘Closer’ movie. I was a ‘Jane-Jones’ but became an ‘Alice’ creating an image of me when entering a new place. I was an ordinary and plain student at Goldsmiths, but became a drama queen, new coming bitch, in the popular clique, making myself the center of attention. London is my theories, Tokyo is my practice; London is the thought, Tokyo is the action. London is the script, Tokyo is the acting. And the new ‘Mean Girls’ (Tokyo version) movie is then completed. Now I came out of the acting, back to the colourless, and the nothingness, until the next play, next performance, where I would take new colour and become just exactly one, as if that was my colour indeed, as if the character is me.

....

Don’t mind me, I just feel like getting drunk but don’t have enough wine to do so, and end up finishing a glass to make myself write whatever whatever just makes my fingers moving on the keyboard at the moment.

I remember something in “Le Petit Prince”, between the Fox and the Prince and how the Fox taught the Prince to grow their friendship, that day after day they would look at each other, move closer to each other, but never utter words. Because, as the Fox wisely said, words are a source of misunderstanding, for friendship is more pure and simple than that.

I think I confuse others, mislead others with too many words till now, even confusing myself too, then sometimes somehow I just suddenly cried because of being misunderstood, but I actually don’t know what exactly went wrong with whatever, when and how, because I am myself all over the place, in the mind in the thoughts it is like multiple ideas overlapping one another for the self-representation to come out. It wasn’t intentional, and that’s why it just made me cry at the end of one thing to another, as I keep being misunderstood, confusing myself and complicating my own mind.

He said I am either very simple or ‘super’ complicated. I always have a look of innocence, of somebody whose expression and action and gesture straight out from whatever I mean. I thought so too. It should yeah?

Then why do I always cry for feeling not being fully interpreted, why do I still cry because of the feeling I am totally misunderstood, misrepresented and everything. Or it’s just because I am shifting thoughts like shape-shifters, and the next moment things I am supposed to acknowledge as truths of me somehow become completely opposite, yet people always must have something fixed in their mind, about other people, or events or whatever, so that’s why once they have fixed ideas on me, they failed to grasp me at the next moment then I cried for being seen as the previous me, not the current me which has already been completely in contrast with whatever before the current me.

I don’t know.

I am just being, one of the days, you know, just feel like ‘meh’ I don’t know why I feel down but I am just down so might as well be down and say I am down, so down I need some drinks and ranting over a blog to articulate how I am down or to describe what I am thinking because I am down.

Not enough wine by the way, to be able to be crazier than this.

I am not an artist okay. I never be. Those artists, I never belong. After a while, I felt like I am just social networking, I am not being with like-minded people and feel belonged, I am not one of them. I don’t have artworks, I don’t have projects going on, I have nothing. I am just nothing. I am just no one. I just need to accept that.

But why do I keep being drawn to people like Emily and those she work for, the artists? BECAUSE in them I see LIFE.

In Goldsmiths I see people with Life. They live, for something, with something, the passion, the movie they want to make, the script they want to write, the scene they want to photograph, the painting they want to curate. There is Life. I understand Life has no meaning, the meaning of Life is just to live it, there are people who LIVE, but there are people who GET BY. I see those in Sophia, where so many privileged kids study there but so few of them actually live for something, a girl who said she doesn’t want to even work, she doesn’t have anything she wants to work for, a group who just went out drinking to get drunk, be drunk to forget, to lose the self to enjoy frivolously until next frivolous drinking.

I don’t see anything like Goldsmiths here, I don’t see anyone like Emily, and at least there’s Emily I found, who could help me keep questioning ‘What do I want to live for?’, ‘How can I make sense of my life’, ‘Yeah I know I just need to live but what kind of living’, ‘Yeah I know Life has no meaning but how I could give some meanings to it in any way?’

I see a little family, a husband and wife, with their little kid whirling his hands around in the baby strollers. Yeah that’s a Life too!

Or someone who could talk non-stop about artists, exhibitions, artworks. That’s a Life too.

Or someone excited about going back to her country to photograph the old noodle shop nearby her place, she finally got back her passion for what she has been following, being inspired again to create a new series photography. That’s a Life.

It’s funny, I used to do nothing so I made a resolution later to just DO, just ACT, no more thinking. Little did I know after 2 years ‘acting out’ having a ‘Sophia’ life, the previous nothing me just crept in saying to me ‘enough’, now I came back to nothing again, but feeling like that ‘acting out’ still tried to get a hold of me, so I need to be back in a ‘grouping’, being with those high-maintenance bitches and keep bitching again, giving more drama to spice things up for another drama story!

I am tired of everything.

I just want to live so that I could die.

I am tired of my mind.

I am just tired.

#518th

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