#and the fact that it's david tennant's doctor too

[daddysropepuppy]

not to be a nerd on my horny blog but the new doctor who special felt like a warm hug to all the trans fans

[crookedfivefingers]

the utter incredulity always cracks me up

Doctor Who 3.5 | Evolution of the Daleks

[mobius-m-mobius]

one of the best/funniest dynamics on TV is: (in/sp)

[whatsfourteenupto]

Doctor Who has its technobabble, Hamlet and Macbeth are infamous for their wild lines, he’s played a Marvel villain and a literal serial killer, but if you really want to hear David Tennant saying some fuckin unhinged shit, I’m telling you, it’s Duck Tales.

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of The Unicorn and the Wasp (Part Six)

Excerpts from Jason Arnopp’s article in DWM 396:

DWM: How did you like working with Christopher Benjamin [who played Lord Eddison] David Tennant: It's glorious. Although I have to say, it's one of those casts where you're delighted with everybody. I've worked with Fenella [Woolgar, who plays Agatha Christie] a couple of times, and I'm proud to announce to the world that her casting here was my idea! I think it's the first time a casting suggestion of mine has ever been taken up. And Tom Goodman-Hill [who plays Reverend Golightly] is a fantastic actor. He was buzzing brilliantly in the readthrough. DWM: You auditioned for the part: were you sitting in a waiting room with a bunch of Christie-alikes? Fenella Woolgar (Agatha Christie): Yes, that was hilarious. And even funnier, because there was another audition going on next door which couldn't have been more different: some guy was shouting, "I'm gonna kill your effing mother!" So I was standing there, thinking, "No, no, it's 1926! Focus!" DWM: You've known David Tennant for a while, right? Tom Goodman-Hill (Reverand Golightly): Since drama school days, so we've got lots of mutual friends. I remember talking to him, just after he got the Doctor Who job, about how we grew up on Tom Baker and Peter Davison's Doctors. Although I'm a little older than David, so I also remember a bit of Pertwee.

Link to [ part one ] of this post, or click the #whoBtsUnicorn tag, or the [ full episode list ]

[tuttle-did-it]

help i just remembered everything Donna Noble has gone through and now I'm so sad

I've seen all of ST:TNG and all of ST:DS9 and I gotta be honest... I think Donna has suffered more than any other DW companion, and maybe even more than Miles O'Brien.

[princessithaca]

buffy and faith tried to kill each other on a roof so that fourteen and fifteen could tenderly hold each other on a helipad. no i will not elaborate

[vilelittlecritter]

Its so funny watching series 3 of doctor who, cause like your sitting there going

"oooh the daleks are up too no good again and now they're in New York! I wonder how the doctor is going to handle thi-

is that fucking Andrew Garfield."

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

On David Tennant and Aging

So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.

David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.

It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…

He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.

Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.

David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.

There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!

I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt XVI good omens season 2 (still not traumatic) episode 3 EDINBURGH

HELLO IT'S ME IT'S THE OFFICIAL GOOD OMENS MASCOT WHY DO I STILL KEEP INTRODUCING MYSELF IDK. If you don't know who I am, thank God and Satan for their mercy and flee. Also, the day after I post this, I'll be watching the last three episodes on livestream for the first time so. You know. I'm hyped on the energy of this being my last day not enveloped in tears. Take the summary:

Before the episode starts, someone asks why Crowley said in the last episode that Aziraphale couldn't fall because look at him, all angelic when Crowley looked the same as starmaker. I reply that "Crowley thinks he deserved it, he sees Azi as something beautiful and untouched while he probably sees himself as idk marked in some way so god kicked him down."

I am told that I am learning too fast to weaponise the narrative to induce angst. So then I say oh, I go too fast for you. Tears ensue.

The episode begins! Everyone shrieks about Edinburgh, David Tennant, how it is their favourite episode, and SCOTTISH CROWLEY.

We open with lesbians being gay, and then Muriel enters as Inspector Constable! They are very sweet and very determined to do their job right, and they are adopted by Crowley and Aziraphale just like Jim.

Crowley sits on Aziraphale's chair's arm. The maggots all swoon.

Fine, I also swooned.

Aziraphale gaslight-gatekeep-girlboss-mansplain-manipulate-manwhores his way into getting Crowley to give him the Bentley keys (BOUNDARIES. BOUNDARIES.).

WHAT PLENTY OF USE DO BOTH OF YOU GET OUT OF THE BOOKSHOP?

The really ineffable plan is whatever the fuck was happening in Aziraphale's brain when he somehow went from London to Edinburgh via Loch Ness (check the map) and then proceeded to disguise himself as a detective who pretends to be a journalist.

Crowley slays in sleeve garters and a cardigan keeping house in the bookshop meanwhile, does not sell books, instead cleans with Jimbriel and periodically yeets book stacks into corners when distracted.

Aziraphale reads his old diary entries about Crowley, a (6000+) 13 year old with a crush.

MINISODE MINISODE. They are in Edinburgh during the mid 1800s. Victorian outfits, check. Scottish Crowley, check. Capitalist Karen Aziraphale, che-wait what.

Huh. Well. There's a wee bit of body snatchin' going on, to sell to doctors for medical research because there aren't enough murderers, and to make enough money to survive.

Aziraphale channels his inner capitalist judgemental Karen and ruins that plan, come on Aziraphale you have religious trauma but you're better than this, and long story short, Wee Morag dies after Aziraphale realises his error, her friend Elspeth has to sell her corpse for pennies, and is about to commit suicide with laudanum. Azi, oh god. I'm glad you underwent character development at least.

NOW CROWLEY HERE SLAYS. I KNOW THIS IS AZIRAPHALE'S PERSPECTIVE AND IS BIASED. BUT WITH THIS POV, CROWLEY SLAYS.

He calmly educates Aziraphale about how his whole "the poor have more opportunities and you shouldn't give them money or they'll lose the virtue of poverty" is absolute bullshit, and he does this understanding Aziraphale's situation and not losing his temper.

The framing. The framing of the shot when they see Wee Morag and Elspeth sitting down on a step and explaining their situation. Aziraphale stands above, bustling with righteousness, and judges them. Crowley sits down. He sits down next to them, rather than taking the high ground. He meets them where they are and empathises. It is the fact that he is fallen and damned that makes him behave really divine and sorry I wrote a whole hymn on him have it I'll stop rambling just know I love him.

I think his amusement is a facade so hell won't think he's genuinely being good. I think he's morally grey and incredibly brave and kind.

When Elspeth is bouta kill herself with the laudanum, Crowley grabs it and drinks it himself, and grows tiny and then huge, absolutely high off his head. David Tennant takes the opportunity to travel Scotland from east to west in terms of accent variety.

He gives us the good message of NO DYIN'. NO MORE DYIN'. IT'S NOT ON. And then forces Aziraphale (who doesn't want to ruin her virtuous poverty) to give the girl all the guineas he has in his pocket, and tells her to go off and start a farm or something. BUT NOT JUST PRETENDY GOOD, BE PROPERLY GOOD.

He then gets pulled into hell. To be punished for this. Aziraphale is frightened and heartbroken for him, looking around desperately, and we find out that Crowley didn't meet him for a while after. And later he wanted holy water. To protect himself? He got punished by hell. For how long? The whole month in between the incident and the diary entry? There can't be anyone better at punishment and cruelty than hell.

Sorry I'm just screaming here.

Never mind fuck I started this summary really happy and bouncy and listening to a dance playlist. Dionysus by BTS and Italian pop is still playing and now I'm crying.

Is this the natural progression. Fuck I'm crying. Sorry guys something else happens with Aziraphale politely talking to a phone and Crowley smiling really beautifully while unsuccessfully trying to manipulate two lesbians into a relationship and something about a visit I don't care everyone's being morally dubious as usual and then lovely Scottish music outro I CAN'T FUCKING ELABORATE I'M SITTING HERE CRYING OVER CROWLEY.

right summary done, time to go sob, lmao i thought i wouldn't cry today over good omens HAHAHAHA still not traumatic eh HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

[greyyson-but-no]

Six Years Waiting

PAIRING; tangerine x spy!oc (easy to switch in reader)

UNIVERSE; bullet train but tangerine doesn't ‼️

WARNINGS; canon-typical violence, mentions of kidnap, torture, bad flirting, they're both idiots that want each other but don't know etc, no spoilers for bullet train plot

GENRE; fluff, tad-angst

WORD COUNT; 2.9K

A/N; im back to writing? I know, insane right? hope you enjoy, I'm gonna be rejigging this account completely so here's this as a waiting gift. aaron taylor johnson what a man you are.

It was a large plaza, filled to the brim with rich American businessmen that had nothing better to do with their time then host an auction, then a party, then get drunk and coincidentally lose the prize of the auction. Her name had been spreading around the city slowly, the more auctions that ended in chaos. Brioches, treasured coins, ancient weapons and vintage prizes just… slipping out of the hands of whoever had bid the most. She hadn’t always completed stretches of thievery — it used to be far, far worse. The company she worked after had taken her down after the news of the Segovia job had reached them at HQ. Just a couple too many spare bodies. She was now in therapy.

Descending the curved staircase, black flowing from her shoulders, a prize necklace she had stolen just last week hanging from the skin of her neck. It wouldn’t be the only thing hanging from her neck in a couple hours, though. Light bounced off of the glass chandeliers, alighting this night’s prize, sitting all grandiose at the far end of the room.

She kept a sharp eye on it.

But as she got to the bottom of the staircase, the red carpet moving out into the rest of the room, another person caught her eye. One she recognized, and knew better than she knew anybody else she’d ever met.

Tangerine donned a blue suit, his classic striped one that she always compared to David Tennant’s rendition of Doctor Who. He never understood it. He had just come in through the back entrance, and had made it very obvious he wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. It was a given. Otherwise, he would have told her he would be here, when, in fact, that hadn’t happened. She assumed he had been sent on this mission last minute, to fill in for someone. Because not only had he told her tonight was his free night, but his brother, Lemon wasn’t standing by his side.

Those weren’t their real names, of course. Just the names they went by to keep their real lives hidden. Over the years, their trust grew and eventually, after she had nearly died to an assassin from another company and the two of them had to carry her back to their house to let her get better, Aaron and Brian had trusted her with their real names. In response, she had done the same. Angel, became Ophelia, to the twins.

But there was always something more special about Tangerine.

When forced to explain it to her co-workers, all Angel could come up with was, “he’s just pretty, isn’t he?”, and she couldn’t help but think he had taken this job just because she was there, too. Bullshit, she was aware, but one could always hope.

Unless… Because as she looked back up at him after answering something urgent of her watch, he had his eyes skirting down her body, and quickly made a b-line towards where she was standing. There was this look in his eyes, that she hadn’t seen before, as well. Alas, the place was so damn big, this could have just been something she was imagining, since he was still so far away.

Something in her brain was telling her to run, and it wasn’t her handler shouting in her ear, that was for sure. Instead, the voice of logic, of reason, was screaming at her to not let him speak to her tonight. Was there really any harm in it though? It wasn’t like she was attached, or anything.

When he reached her, that smile, the cunning smirk, fed its way onto his lips as he took her hand and lent down to kiss the back of her palm. Words she never thought she would ever hear him say left his lips as he did so. “Ma’am, it’s lovely to see you here, you look incredible, as always.”

Okay, maybe she was a little attached.

Angel let a laugh fall from her lips as he stood up straight again. “Tan, shut up.”

“Never, my dear.” God, he was going to be the end of her. “I’m assuming you’re here for the necklace on auction tonight?”

She nodded, searching the crowd as he moved to stand to the left of her instead. “Yes. I can assume you aren’t? You’d never take a steal like this, even if it meant you would see me again. And especially without Lemon.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not that special.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Then a pause. Angel couldn’t get the smirk to leave her face as he continued on with his reasoning of being here tonight. Moving his arm, he pointed towards one of the women sitting up in the glass balcony above where he had entered the plaza just a couple minutes ago. “Lady Francis De Marco. Owes a client a superfluous amount of money and she’s late by a couple weeks. Harsh client, let’s say. It really was just coincidence you’re here too, love.”

Angel blinked, spotting the pearl necklace falling from this women’s neck. “She’s the one selling the necklace, no?”

“Her husband.”

“So, what?” She took in a deep breath as his hand brushed up against hers. “You’re here to kill her? Or just get some answers.”

Tangerine laughed heartily. “What do you think, doll? I am an assassin.”

Angel shook her head. “Careful, don’t say it too loud, someone might be listening.”

“Nobody cares about our conversation, sweetheart, don’t worry. They aren’t listening, to us.” He calmed, looking over the crowds just as she was. The conversation came to a simple ending, a comfortable silence waving over the two… friends.

Tangerine had now known Angel for six years, and each year he struggled more and more to understand how and why she could make him feel the way he felt about her. It started in New York, they had met at something similar to this evening, and had gotten along well, much to Lemon’s dismay. A couple months later, they were both sent out to kill the same person, by different clients. They took a finger each as proof for their individual clients. Every couple months, they would bump into each other, and after the first few times, the sight of her dressed up at the party, or clad in a tight black suit while fighting some prick had him head over heels. Literally once he had nearly died because he was too busy staring at her. He had started to worry he couldn’t work around her.

Then two years ago, she had nearly been ran over by a bike while on the run from someone trying to kill her. She had been kidnapped, tortured by this guy who only wanted her because of a small job from 15 years ago. When she escaped, she found herself finding Lemon and Tangerine. That night he had found out her real name. Ophelia. He thought no name could ever be better.

Don’t worry, Lemon had told him many a time that this was an issue. He knew it very well. It didn’t mean he had to do anything about it, but it was defiantly an issue.

Tangerine coughed, clearing his throat. “What’s your plan then?”

Angel shook her head. “Was gonna figure it out as I went, personally. What about y-”

“Same.” He dropped his head, looking down at the carpeted floor. “I was only put on this job last night, so, I didn’t really have time to come up with a plan. They didn’t even tell me that it was gonna be in a place this big.”

She sighed, allowing herself to look over to him for just a second, seeing his tired cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “I keep telling you to leave your company, they’re shit.”

He shrugged, grunting. “Could be way worse, sweetheart.”

Angel was well aware there was no point in even trying to convince him to move company. He defiantly wouldn’t without Lemon, too, and a long time ago that man had gotten himself into some trouble with the CEO of said company, he hadn’t been allowed to leave since that day.

“I s’pose we better get to work then, aye?” Tangerine murmured.

Angel coughed. “Yeah. See you in a bit, Tan.”

And while Tangerine was fully convinced they were going to complete both their tasks together, he again, mumbled a small sinnabit, sweetheart as she wandered off. God, what was his problem? Why could he not just do something about this stupid infatuation with her? He constantly just let it sit, murmuring in his stomach for years and years. Was anything ever going to change? He couldn’t ever imagine it.

Only two hours later, she was dead. Tangerine had cornered her in her office nearing the end of the party, and once she had understood what the assassin was there for, she simply let it happen. Her family didn’t have the money, it was as simple as that.

Angel was the issue. Tangerine had found her outside the office, clutching the necklace in her hands, shouting at him to hurry up because they needed to leave. She really had figured it out as she went, and it had turned out for the worst. This is why she was assassin, that’s what she was trained for, not stealing.

The two were running, and fast. Down the stairs and into a storage cupboard somewhere, Tangerine was following her, and from a rucksack behind a shelving unit, she pulled out spare clothes.

“I haven’t go anything spare for you, sorry.”

He shook his head. ���It’s okay, I’ll just take my jacket and vest off, that should do.” And he paused for a moment, spotting her struggle to unzip her dress at the back. It was probably just because they were in a rush, but then again, they were definitely in a rush, any help would do. “C’mere, love.”

Angel coughed a thanks, turning around as he took a hold of the zip, tugging it downward. She brushed away the thoughts of his knuckles running down her back, her bra strap appearing behind the black fabric. This was far too intimate for her liking, and the second he reached the bottom, she turned back around, telling him to turn around so as to not see her while she changed. Just a couple seconds later, she was clad in a white shirt and dress skirt, looking as if she was a waitress. Her hair was done up this time, a neat bun at the back that to her, wasn’t neat. It would do. “We’ll leave as staff.”

“Sure. Lead the way.”

They left the closet, turning left and joining the crowd again, the necklace neatly tucked in her pocket still. Luckily they didn’t scan in and out, so they could easily just slip away from the plaza, out the front door, and no one would look none the wiser. People were even acting as if the necklace hadn’t been stolen.

But as they joined the escalator that was leading them down to the final floor, a very obvious security guard was eyeing everyone up and down. While everyone on the top floor was made to act as if nothing had gone wrong, the De Marco family had sent out more security to see if anyone was acting suspicious. Staff members that didn’t have key cards and had seemingly spawned in from nowhere? Suspicious.

Angel turned to face Tangerine again, who looked nervous having also spotted the security guard. “I could just kill him?”

“Making ourselves even more suspicious and draw attention to us? No. We need to deflect them. Making them not want to look at us.” This wasn’t the first time Angel had needed to get herself out of a situation similar to this. Tangerine, though, hadn’t.

Tangerine frowned. “And how do you expect we do that?”

She grimaced. “I’m sorry. People hate public displays of affection.”

“Public what—”

Hands around his neck, she pulled him in, lips against his own, letting it get a little too intimate for public. They just fell into it. As his tongue brushed up against her bottom lip and her knees nearly gave in, a thought occurred to her. With his hand on her waist and her arms around neck, playing with the length of his hair. This felt natural. It felt… right.

They reached the bottom of the escalator, the security guard long gone. Tangerine cleared his throat as they made their way to the exit. His car was parked just a couple blocks away, so they walked in tandem to find it. There was a silence between them that wasn’t like the one before. Somehow, they were thinking the exact same thing, without even knowing it. How do I get rid of these feelings? And yet, neither of them wanted to.

Tangerine got in the car when they found it. It was an old Rolls-Royce he refused to get rid of, which she had been in many a time. Just, this time was different. Part of her just wanted to walk home. Her company would kill her if they found out she just took a stroll home with the necklace just tucked in a pocket somewhere, but the only other option was to get in a car with him.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. “You getting in or what?”

On a whim, she got in the car, sitting alongside him as he started driving off. There wasn’t a mention of who’s place they were going to, but they lived on the other side of town, and he was going in the direction of her apartment. Driving there from any point in the city was just automatic to him now. He knew how to get there from anywhere.

It wasn’t a long drive. Soon enough, they were parked in the blocks car park, and were heading up the elevator to the 12th floor, where her flat was. When the door was swung open, Angel flicked the low lights on, kicking her heels off as Tangerine helped himself to a cup of tea. He was good at telling whether she wanted to be alone or not, and from her relaxed form she had taken on the sofa, he gathered he could stay for a bit. Not too long, he wouldn’t overstay his welcome, but just for a little bit while they both recharged. Just a couple minutes later, he found himself next to her on the sofa, she automatically leant her feet on his legs as he grabbed the remote to scroll through the channels. The silence became comforting again as she watched him flick between late night shows, comedic dramas and general news channels.

Angel yawned, starting to speak as she finished. “You should probably text Lemon you’re here, he’ll worry if you don’t.”

“He’ll worry any way.” Was all he wanted to say, but the words came natural to him as he furthered. “You should go to sleep, sweetheart, you’re clearly exhausted, I can show myself out when I need to.”

She sat up, removing her feet from his lap and letting herself get that little bit closer to him. He cared. She could see it in his eyes, and it was genuine. The most genuine emotion she had ever seen him show, really. But it truly was there. Slowly, as his eyes scanned over the details and features of her face, now just as close to him again as she had been earlier when they had kissed, she reached a hand up to stroke at his cheek, seeing the dark circles around his eyes and that tired looked that seemed to follow him around everywhere. She felt his breath get heavier as he tried to avoid looking down at her lips. This was happening.

Angel sighed. “You need to take better care of yourself, Tan.”

His eyebrow twitched at her words, and he gulped. “What’s the point? I’m never going to find anyone that cares enough to force me to care about myself, and with my job I could die any day.”

“Oh, Tan…” Her thumb dragged across his chin.

He let out a breathy laugh. “What, sweetheart?”

It was only that little bit further that she had to move in order to press her lips up against his. It felt the same as last time, her hands resting against his jaw, his arms naturally, as if done a thousand times, curling around her waist, pulling her that little but closer. But this time they were doing this for themselves. They weren’t doing it for a quick escape, or to distract people, this was for them. Because for six years, these two idiots have pined for each other, and only now had something been done about it.

While all Tangerine wanted to do was ravage her, give in to all the temptations from six years of falling for this woman, he let her lead, let her keep it slow. They were both tired, they both just needed this.

As she went to pull away, he chased her lips with a couple small pecks, as if he never wanted to stop kissing her ever. Angel chuckled. “I care, so much.”

“I know.” He mumbled, looking up at her as he resting his hands on her waist tightly to pull her over onto his lap, letting her fall around him, resting his face against her neck, breathing her in and repeating the words thank you in his head, for anything to listen, grateful that he had her.

It would take a lot of work, but they were both now confidence they could maybe work together and juggle everything else. There was hope now; a reason to live.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

HELLOOO i recently gained a david tennant hyperfixation and can i just say you are most likely half the reason why /lh i love your writing and headcanons so so so much, you have such a lovely way of writing that just clicks in my brain just right 🫶

specifically the relationship hc’s have been on loop on my head, and i’ve finally worked up the courage to ask if you’d be willing to elaborate a bit on some subby 10th doctor hcs?? totally fine if not, and whatever you feel like writing!! either way just wanted to say i absolutely adore your writing and can’t wait for anything u write next!!!

Just for this sweet message? Absolutely! This is such a lovely compliment and having my writing skills be so highly regarded even if just by potentially one or two people, it's a very high honour <3

Anywho, on to the HCs!

Subby Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ only / requests are open

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @stilestotherescue @madspads @catlynharper@merrilark @jaziona92 @yeehawbrothers @mochabonesblog @iguirisu @thegen3sisark @wereallbrokenangels @florduarte @pansexual-imp (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

Subby Ten is super clingy. He likes to be touching you or on you pretty much all the time. There's just something about that intimate physical contact that clicks right for him.

On that point, when he's subby, he loves to be the little spoon. He loves to feel you wrapped up around him. He also loves it when you jerk him off when he's the little spoon as well. If you wake up before him and tease him when he's all sleepy and precious- oh, he's yours. He will spill into your hand faster than you can sing the alphabet.

He's a huge fan of praise and being ordered around. He spends so much of his days being in charge and needing to protect people from all manner of things that he likes to just let go sometimes and let others take the reins.

This means he's really not very bratty. He just likes to be good and be called a good boy. That's all he wants lmao

He finds it hard to listen when he's buried inside you. You have to tell him whether he can finish or not, and if you say no- be prepared to grab him by the jaw and make him listen. He likes it though- makes him whimper so pretty for you.

He loves it when you go down on him too. Making him feel so good but not letting him have any control over his own pleasure.

"O-hoh, yes- that- that spot, please-" when you lick up his shaft or trail the veins.

Need I even start on the Doctor and pulling on his hair? Safe to say- he's a fan

Just imagine having him kneeling before you, playing with himself while you yank on his hair and tell him how fast or how slow or where to touch himself.

After sex, the Doctor absolutely loves to snuggle up and cuddle while watching or listening to some kind of sci-fi or science documentary with the light from a nearby sun sifting through the window of the TARDIS. Some people like to listen to music- he likes to listen to facts about Tesla Coils and stuff.

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of the Thirteenth-to-Fourteenth Doctor Regeneration in Power of the Doctor - Part One

Excerpt from Benjamin Cook's article in DWM #584:

Across the studio, executive producer Phil Collinson, director Rachel Talalay, and a growing number of crew members are huddled around a laptop. What are they watching? Rachel motions for David and DWM to join them. “I want to show you Jodie’s half of the regen,” she says. “Ooh yes, please,” says David. “This is exciting, isn’t it?” But secrecy is paramount. “What I also wanted to show you, David, is the few minutes leading up to it –” “But I’m not allowed to see?” David finds this very funny. Rachel presses play. We watch the Thirteenth Doctor’s final 45 seconds. “There she is!” exclaims David, as Jodie steps out of the TARDIS onto a rocky peak – the sea ahead of her, the sun starting to rise. “On a clifftop??” Phil looks on approvingly. “This is unusual,” he says. “Blimmin’ hell.” “It’s beautiful,” adds David. [...] Rachel’s last work on the series was the Twelfth Doctor’s 2017 swansong, Twice Upon a Time – which ended with Jodie’s very first scene. Having midwifed the Thirteenth, Rachel has returned to see in the Fourteenth, directing today’s regeneration and the first 2023 Special. “I am so lucky I get to do this,” she says. “That I get to re-regenerate David Tennant is phenomenal. I was already incredibly interested in returning. Just the fact that Russell was coming back was enough. When I was told it was David too, that took me to a whole other level.” In studio, on Rachel’s laptop, Jodie has finished regenerating. (David: “That’s all we’re getting? I want to know what happens next!”) Cut to black and an on-screen caption: “Over to you, Russell!” Rachel runs David through her camera moves. “We don’t want to pull out on Jodie, then keep pulling out on you. We want to push in on Jodie, so we want to reverse this shot, push in as the morph starts, your clothes disintegrate –” David: “Uh huh.” Rachel: “– and by the time we get into the final position, it’ll be fully you. Everyone will be like, ‘Holy wow! I thought this would be Ncuti Gatwa.’ And then, David, it’s over to you. Tell us what you want to do.” “Exactly the same as I did last time?” “Sure. Why not.” [...] On set, David is taking a selfie with the TARDIS. “I’ve got to send Jodie this,” he says, gleefully. “I’m texting her and sending her pictures, because obviously she isn’t here, but she’s my mate, and we’ve got her on a screen to line me up…”

Future posts this set will be available in the #whoBtsPower tag. The full episode behind-the-scenes list is [ here ]

[humbledragon669]

S2E2 - The Clue Write Up P4 - Land of Uz: Crowley speaks to Job to a little alone time in the cellar

I’m going to start with an incredibly quick note, just in case there’s anyone out there reading this who doesn’t know/hasn’t realised that the actor playing Job is Peter Davison, who is not only linked to David Tennant by way of having played the fifth Doctor, but is also his father-in-law (in real life). I think I’m probably preaching to the converted with that little nugget, but it pays to be cautious with these things.

Alright, let’s get going proper, shall we? And I want to give a little nod of acknowledgement for the camera work we see going “through” the book page into the scene beyond. Not the first time we’ve seen this technique used to transition the audience from one place (in time, mood, or location) to another, but it’s pretty smooth nonetheless, and achieves its desired effect effortlessly. There’s something utterly ridiculous about some of the script for this initial scene too - some random dude shows up in your newly destroyed barn asking for your children and you don’t stop to ask who he is and what he wants? In fact, why not direct him to your wife to be as helpful as possible? Don’t stop there though, why not start pouring your soul out to him in a keenly ironic speech about being delivered to demons. Sure. Very convincing. Still, I don’t suppose there’s much in the way of official records of this conversation to base the scene on, is there…

Miracle noise alert! This one definitely originates from Crawley and definitely differs from the one we most recently associated with Aziraphale.

This one is… “flatter” is the word that springs to mind when I hear it. I think it’s intended to sound closer to a snake hiss; of textural note we are missing the little choir vocalisation that we heard in earlier miracle noises. Swinging back around to the theory about miracle noises relating to intent rather than caster, this particular noise would prove both theories. I guess what I really want to hear at this point is the noise from a miracle definitely cast only by Crowley with good or neutral intent. That might put this theory to bed for me, but I think we’ll have to wait a while for that (off the top of my head I can’t think if we get one of those in these season, but I’ll be on the look-out).

I find the choice of words used in the opening arguments between Aziraphale and Crawley interesting:

Aside from the opportunity to revel in Aziraphale admitting he was wrong about something, I think the different uses of don’t have to/couldn’t/can/will in this wordplay are worth noting. To avoid this getting too wordy, I’m going to break this down into a table to demonstrate:

And all of this hammered home with a final plea from Aziraphale, returning to his original point, and making an explicit statement that he believes that being a demon involves the ability to exercise free will (let’s face it, it kinda doesn’t - Crawley has little official choice than to follow orders, just like the angel). This point of view will become interesting as the season progresses and we see Aziraphale’s beliefs about free will and how it ties in with humanity morphing - after all, it wasn’t all that long ago that he was trying to convince a bunch of archangels on the street that the whole point of being human (not a demon) is to exercise free will (at least in our chronology - this conversation with Crawley and the one with the angels on the street are actually separated by some 4500 years…). What’s interesting to me about his beliefs at this particular point in time, is that they suggest at least part of his understanding of the differences between the agents of Heaven and Hell isn’t to do with morality or intent, it’s the presence/absence of free will. Ergo, the opposite of “Good” isn’t “Evil”, but “Choice”. Oof, that one hits pretty deep, doesn’t it? I could get into a big discussion about how this does or doesn’t resemble major religions even today but I feel like that goes a bit beyond my qualifications, so instead I’ll just make one more point about this handful of lines between our hero couple, this one on another more word choice for Aziraphale:

AZIRAPHALE: Crawley… You don’t have to destroy Job’s children.

Notice the word “destroy” and not “kill”. I’m not sure why this distinction has been made, not least because Crawley has already told Aziraphale 500 years previously that killing kids is not something he can get onboard with.

Maybe the word choice has been swayed somewhat by Crawley’s supposed disposal of the goats, where they simply disappeared in a puff of smoke. Perhaps “destroy” was thought to be a stronger word than “kill”, though that’s not a stance I would agree with, and I actually feel like it offers the opportunity to distance the “destroyer” from their actions somewhat.

Before we get too deep into the weeds with the next mini-section of Aziraphale pleading, there’s something I want to lay on the table. The last time this pair saw each other was 500 years ago. We saw that meeting, and earlier in this episode they even went so far as to confirm that was the last time they saw each other. That meeting, filled with shocking revelations about Heaven’s actions as it was, was very friendly. VERY friendly. We’ve gone from Crawley looking at Aziraphale like this:

to this:

I mean… What happened? No, seriously, what the actual fuck happened? The tension between this pair is palpable in both scenes, but they are very different types of tension. I’ve always thought that there’s something off about the way their conversation starts at the beginning of the minisode: it feels like that awkward conversation you have with someone when you bump into them after having had a blazing row and neither of you has apologised and despite time passing, you’re both still sore about it. Almost like… unexpectedly bumping into your ex? I realise that was all really wordy, when all I’m really trying to say is that I’m not clear on why the relationship feels so strained at the beginning of the minisode, just like I’m not clear on why Crowley is so grumpy when we see him in Rome. It occurs to me that we don’t see the end of their encounters in Mesopotamia and Golgotha (the previous meetings to Uz and Rome, respectively), and once again I say: what the actual fuck happened?

If we consider the possibility that the meeting in Mesopotamia potentially did not end as amicably as it began, Aziraphale’s desperate pleading with Crawley to do the right thing in this Land of Uz scene feels perhaps a bit more understandable. And let’s just be clear about Aziraphale’s plan of attack at this point - he’s no longer asking a demon not to the “bad” thing, he’s appealing to Crawley to be the being that he has fallen in love with come to know in the years before - one that is incapable of doing the unspeakable things he’s been tasked with.

Wait, wait, did I say understandable? Because this is truly unbearable for me - I can’t watch this without choking back a sob, for real. The little gulp as Crawley’s words hit home, the slumping shoulders, the slight wobble in his bottom lip, the rasping breath he takes (OH BUT THAT INTAKE OF BREATH WILL KILL ME). He is absolutely, and completely, devastated. And who can be surprised, because that speech from Crawley (complete with background hiss noise as he removes his glasses) is pure venom (no snake pun intended). Everything the demon says at this point is said with the sole purpose of hurting Aziraphale (and I say again: WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!), prompting Aziraphale to use his ultimate weapon - it’s the forgiveness line. There is something particular about this usage though - on this occasion he doesn’t forgive Crawley personally, he asks for forgiveness on his behalf, which we’ve seen once before: on the bandstand. That encounter was very definitely a break-up and for a second it looks like this one might have been going the same way, and I think I speak on behalf of the entire fandom when I thank those goats for not being able to keep their mouths shut here.

As much as I am fully onboard with Aziraphale’s smugness in his response to finding out that Crawley was indeed the being he thought he was, I can’t help but feel like it’s slightly misplaced, and here’s why:

CRAWLEY: Doesn’t mean we’re on the same side. AZIRAPHALE: No, no!

You see, I don’t think Aziraphale has realised that his actions have actually gone against Heaven’s wishes at this point. So as far as he’s concerned, Crawley and him being on the same side (which is clearly what he thinks, given the vocal delivery) means that Crawley is also on Heaven’s side. Which he most certainly isn’t, and even though the demon has a much clearer idea of how things are progressing, it’s obvious that Aziraphale thinks that Crawley’s point of view is just a cover story for him actually being on Heaven’s side. I think this is the first time that the idea of third “side” (i.e. not for Heaven or Hell) is introduced, chronologically speaking, even if it was thought to be a temporary arrangement and not specifically termed as “their side”. I find myself wondering if Crawley’s acknowledgement that they are “temporarily not on different sides” is the reason he doesn’t protest being called an angel by Job’s eldest daughter (Keziah), but perhaps that’s just because he wants to lull them into a false sense of security for the grand finale coming up.

I will be preaching to the converted for the second time in this write-up now I know, but as I said, it pays to be cautious. The young man playing Ennon is David’s in-real-life son. This episode is quite the family affair! Having that little bit of knowledge makes Crawley’s reaction to this self-important, arrogant little shit all the more funny too.

And whilst we’re on the subject of Crawley’s reactions, I love this facial expression we see in reaction to Aziraphale deciding to throw his weight around:

I slowed it down a bit, but you can see his face twitch ever so slightly just after Aziraphale starts bellowing, like it actually took him by surprise. Pranked or not, I think it’s pretty obvious to see that he does not think this new strategy from the angel is a good one. The background acting doesn’t stop here either, with an adorable little squeak from him in response to Jemimah’s charming nature. It makes me feel a bit sorry for the kids in the scene really, who are (I hope) acting their little socks off being the most repulsive versions of children they can be whilst David just stands there pulling a few faces/making some noises and manages to steal the scene.

There’s no reason for that gif other than to watch a loop of David winking (extremely careful typing required with that sentence).

Alright, maybe there was a little reason, other than pure aesthetics. I know I’m not the only one to say I find the interaction between Crawley and Jemimah adorable, but outside of just being really cute, this relationship does serve a narrative purpose in the context of the storyline. This playful banter he establishes with the young child is what lays the road for some mischief. I’ve talked about it in earlier write-ups, but we don’t see an awful lot of the mischievous demon in this season. Well, all that’s about to change, and I’m pretty relieved because up to now everything Crawley has done in this minisode has felt very serious. I love seeing him getting joy in causing harmless mayhem.

I also find it interesting that this side of the demon has only been allowed out now that he and Aziraphale have found some common ground - the dislike of the two older children - which suggests that their relationship is getting back on track. On that note, it occurs to me that he hasn’t been wearing his sunglasses for any of this scene, which had been firmly glued to his face right from the beginning of the minisode, even when he was alone of the top of a mountain. Whatever happened to cause the angry tension between our hero couple (if anything happened), I think the lack of eyewear would suggest that Crawley is already well on the way to forgetting about it by this point.

I find this blustering from Aziraphale interesting. He refuses to name Crawley as what he physically is, choosing to believe that because the demon’s intentions aren’t malign, his demon nature is simply a technicality. By that same logic, that would mean Aziraphale himself is only “technically” an angel, yet you never hear him refer to himself as such. Ultimately, his motives behind this are honourable, desperate as he is to believe that Crawley is still one of the Good guys, and I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that there’s a double standard being applied here - that’s one of the motifs we see being applied to Heaven throughout the show (“one rule for us, another rule for everyone else”). He’s right in the end of course (at least as far as Crawley’s intentions anyway).

He knows Crawley has absolutely no desire to kill children, despite the fact that the house is blazing around them. The demon told him he couldn’t kill kids, remember?

There’s something about this exchange that niggles at me. On the surface it seems like we’ve gone back to an angry Crawley, challenging Aziraphale on his character judgement. I think there’s maybe a bit more to it though. There is a vague suggestion of Crawley asking Aziraphale if he really trusts him here, even though it’s not explicitly stated. And that trust theme is something we see developing, chronologically, throughout the minisodes of this season. The Agreement is a long way off into the future (about 3500 years in the future in fact), but I find myself wondering if this challenge from Crawley is its first iteration, because I think this is actually him asking Aziraphale if he’s sure he wants to be part of the plot to save the children. If that’s the case, and the angel understands the subtext, it would explain why he makes his declaration of surety so assuredly. And look at him making way for Crawley to deliver his coup de grace, united with the demon, and sure of his decision:

Side note: I love the fact that everything in that room falls through the ceiling to the floor below completely intact, including the table which is already laden with a whole ox carcass. The only sign of anything being disturbed is the noise of a metal pot settling.

Aziraphale’s response to this latest turn of events reminds me of what we see from him when he embarks on his journey to Edinburgh.

He’s so contented - he’s turned the whole thing into a game. One with a trail of clues he had to work out to solve the mystery of how the evil demon could still be an angel underneath it all. And he’s figured it all out, even though he knew it all along anyway, which Crawley is clearly not thrilled about. There’s another layer going on here though I think, because (if I’ve got my chronology right), this is the first time the demon has “rescued” the angel from a perilous situation. Never mind that the perilous situation was created by the demon in the first place. Besides, that might have been part of the game for all we know because it’s only now that Aziraphale starts to give Crawley a bit of slack for him to actually use the cover he’s trying to create for himself. And hold on, what’s this?

Is that a wink? Certainly looks like one to me. He also starts to use collective pronouns from this point, suggesting that he, just like Crawley, is getting comfortable with this relationship again.

We get some miracle noises in the cellar to have a quick look at here, although they are somewhat obscured by the soundtrack. Brief tangent: I’m not sure there are any miracle noises to be heard in the scene a moment ago where Crawley sets fire to the house, with the exception of the last one he does, opening up the floor to the cellar. That one, which is even more difficult to make out that the lizard-transformations, sounds more like the ones we heard from Aziraphale’s miracle in the pub, with that swelling noise that gets used so often in epic soundtracks. If that was the case, that definitely points towards the noise relating to the mindset of the caster, because that one would either have been driven by need or by the caster having good moral intent. The sounds we hear on the cellar on the other hand; they sound more like the snakelike versions we heard from Crawley earlier, although there’s something about them that sounds less ominous than previously.

In the last point of this part of the write-up, I find it notable that Aziraphale doesn’t try to interfere with Crawley’s transforming of the children, even though it’s clear he disapproves.

Perhaps it’s because he realises he’s pushed Crawley too far already to chastise him further for showing his true colours. Maybe it’s because there’s not really any harm being done in his actions. Maybe it’s because the angel was as disgusted with Ennon and Keziahs’ attitudes as Crawley is. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because he’s actually pretty happy to be able to spend some time with the demon alone. I know which one of those theories I like the most.

This seems like as good a place as any to wrap up this part of the write-up, not least because we’re about to get to a pivotal moment of Aziraphale’s personal development and a fandom favourite in the relationship development, and I’ve already written far too many words on this tiny section to be normal. For now, and as always, questions, comments, discussion: always welcome and see you for the next one 😊

[hollow-keys]

THE BI REGENERATION RUMORS WERE REAL? NAHHHH. The! Entire! Point! of regeneration is moving on but now suddenly we can't move on and we gotta keep David Tennant running around somewhere? We already did that with the weird Doctor clone they sent off with Rose in the alternate universe, and that was cowardly enough, but now we're splitting the new Doctor too? At least Matt Smith got to have his own tenure not overshadowed by David Tennant.

And OF COURSE they do this shit with the first black Doctor. To repeat what's been said elsewhere, this only fuels racist fans who won't accept Ncuti Gatwa as the real Doctor. First Twonant steals Gatwa's Doctor's claim to the 14th Doctor, now he's putting Ncuti's entire claim to the mantle in question.

He's a clone Doctor in a clone TARDIS, and the show fuels this by having Ncuti's regeneration focus on David Tennant. Regeneration is about sending off the old Doctor and introducing the new, but this time it's all about the old one. 15 is out here comforting this sad white man, all while appearing to have no issues of his own. He even says he's fine because 14 fixed his shit, when it's made clear that he did not, in fact, fix his shit! There's no emotional focus on him, he's just a Nice Man who comforts 14 then fucks off in a clone TARDIS.

And the ASSERTION that the Doctor is happiest when he stops travelling and settles is so bad it makes me want to tear my eyes out, especially when it's made clear he's still adventuring in time and space! The Doctor not only enjoys travelling and helping people, but feels compelled to do it. That's why he does it! Yes he needs to take better care of himself, but not by withdrawing from his responsibilities.

AND THE FACT THAT 15 IS RUNNING AROUND WITHOUT TROUSERS. So when David Tennant regenerates from Jodie, his clothes have to regenerate because otherwise it would be disrespectful (how?) but when Ncuti Gatwa regenerates from Tennant, he's suddenly beholden to the old laws of regeneration and the clothes split. 14 keeps the trousers, undershirt and waistcoat and all 15 gets is a shirt, underwear and a tie. And even then! The shirt is unbuttoned and the tie's loose (when it wasn't on 14) making him look even less clothed. It's so uneven! There's a reason that 15 was the one who got the trousers, and that's because they respect him more!

The special is just. So, so bad. It panders to racists and fanboy fools who can't move on from """the best Doctor""" and hurts Ncuti's tenure right at the beginning. These weren't 60th anniversary specials, they were RTD backpatting himself for 3 hours about how great his Doctor, his companions and his era were, and disrespecting the new Doctor to do it.

[headcanonsandmore]

Can you do the "all the Doctors" thing, but what would they do if they started a band?

I certainly can!

One: Gets gently pushed into it by Vicki. Can actually play the piano rather well, and starts chuckling to themselves when he starts getting into it. Ian and Barbara got a little sick of the solos after over half an hour, though.

Two: You'd think that a recorder wouldn't be a good instrument to play in a band, but you would be as pleasantly surprised as Two was. Gets on surprisingly well with the hippie crowd, although Jamie has to keep them from getting pulled into smoking illicit substances which may or may not be legal. With time lords, who knows what the effects could be?

Three: Can practically play any instrument given to them because "my dear fellow, it would be vain to explain why". Jo loves it when they play Beatles songs. Has an unfortunate habit of playing in venues that later get attacked or blown up by the Masters scheme of the week.

Four: Pulls the weirdest looking string instument you've ever seen out of their enormous coat, plays some weird jazz-fusion stuff that sounds like a cat making love to a washing machine, grins unnervingly and walks off stage. The stage is a random cafe that hadn't even asked them to play. No-one ever speaks of it again, just in case they come back.

Five: Likes to play ABBA on the rhythym guitar, much to the amusement of their kids young friends. Insists on explaining the themes of each song before starting. Has an unfortunate habit of falling over halfway through their set and knocking themselves unconscious. Given the time period, they often get requests to play "That's Entertainment"; doesn't mind playing it but wishes Tegan and Nyssa would stop sneaking away halfway through to snog in a cupboard somewhere.

Six: Loves playing the drums. Their main inspiration is Keith Moon. Mel says it's good exercise for them. Peri is just glad that they don't wear their coat whilst trashing about with the drumsticks, because that would be a chasm too far.

Seven: Spoons. Ace rolls her eyes but knows that they enjoy it. Is surprisingly popular amongst latter-day beatniks and jazz fans. Often gives some lecture after each song. The difference is that, unlike with Five, people actually listen instead of groaning.

Eight: Just has to sing. You would not be able to stop them. They are surprisngly good at it, although sometimes you wonder whether the words have a hidden meaning.

War: Doesn't play anything, for obvious reasons.

Nine: Bass guitar, and in a very no-nonsence sort of way. Can get down and be funky with it. Rose loves it, and enjoys dancing along, which makes Nine very happy.

Ten: Maraccas, weirdly enough, and often with Donna. Both of them are laughing. The rest of the band doesn't really understand why but it seems to work so who cares?

Eleven: Glockenspiel. No, seriously. Amy and Rory don't know where it came from, and it's actually starting to get a little worrying. Especially when Eleven insists on practicing at 3am with no warning.

Twelve: Lead guitar, obviously. Nothing but shredding solos and awesome punk-style riffs. The fact that they don't have a top-selling album is mindboggling.

Thirteen: Fiddle in a folk-punk-fusion band. Very good at it and is having the time of their life. Loves to dance whilst playing. The happy love songs are their favourite, but has a habit of tripping over their feet on stage if they catch Yaz smiling at them.

Fugitive: Doesn't play anything; again, for obvious reasons.

TenThree/David Doctor/ sorry-mr-tennant-i-cannot-call-you-fourteen: Traded in the maraccas for a trumpet. Donna has a trumpet now too. Things seem to be going well for them.

Fifteen: Sampler. Creates tons of exciting sounds based on all of their previous lives, blending them together in a hopeful, joyeous mix. Well, so far anyway. We'll have to wait and see...

Thanks for the ask!