#and then bill them for her time

[fazcinatingblog]

My dad is the type of person who would say honey on toast is too bland so they've responded with:

[thatrandomblogsays]

Annabeth: I, a child, had to earn Thalia’s love, that’s how the world works! I have to earn my moms love. Love is transactional, you gotta be worthy of it first silly :)

Percy, listening to this on the train

[songforten]

can anyone explain to me at what point rose tyler was "unbelievably stupid". was it when she was inventing transdimensional travel

[buttercupshands]

thought about this thing for a while

it was extremely interesting to just analyze myself and get like a tier list in my head

[theatre-apocalypse]

The first Christmas after the divorce.

[avocado62524]

[the-woman-upstairs]

Firmly believe that if Ford had joined the Henchmaniacs, he and Pyronica would’ve instantly become besties. Ford finds out she’s a quantum physics genius who burned her city to the ground when she didn’t receive the proper appreciation she so rightfully deserved and is like “oh she’s just like me fr.” They would’ve been a “two queens maximizing their joint slay” dynamic for the ages.

[agentark]

trying to enjoy my silly little time traveling sci-fi show while clara and the doctor say the most devastating things to and about each other every other episode like my god

If the Doctor is still the Doctor, he will have my back.

Clara, I'm not your boyfriend. // I never thought you were. // I never said it was your mistake.

Please, just...Just see me.

Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?

Clara, I'm terribly sorry, but I'm exactly what you deserve.

There was one other man. But it would've never worked out. He was impossible.

When do I not see you?

Die with whoever comes after me, you do not leave me.

I don't care about your rules, or your bloody survivor's guilt. If you love me in any way, you'll come back.

Immortality isn't living forever, that's not what it feels like. Immortality is everybody else dying. She might meet someone she can't bear to lose. That happens, I believe.

I let Clara Oswald get inside my head, trust me, she doesn't leave.

Longest month of my life. // It could only have been five minutes. // I'll be the judge of time.

I will die, and no one else here or anywhere will suffer. // What about me?

Everything you're about to say, I already know. don't do it now, we've already had enough bad timing.

Don't run. Stay with me.

I was lost a long time ago, she was saving you.

If you think because she is dead I'm weak, then you understand very little. If you were any part of killing her and you're not afraid, then you understand nothing at all.

The day you lose someone isn't the worst...it's all the days they stay dead.

I'd know you anywhere.

What were you bargaining for? // What do you think? You.

If she says so.

I had a duty of care.

People like me and you, we should say things to one another.

Look how far I went, for fear of losing you.

You said "memories become stories when we forget them." Maybe some of them become songs.

hand in unlovable hand

[alongtidesoflight]

i swear my stepdad is so illogical AND stubborn it hurts

[ratcandy]

this is completely random but like, is it me or nearly all the weird eccentric and goofy but also threatening type characters i see in media are usually men or generally masc

If I had to guess it's because women in media tend to mostly be shoved into specific "woman role" boxes (i.e. mom, sister, victim, love interest), on account of the Misogyny. so characters that are zany, wacky, and eccentric with vague threatening auras just end up being men/masc characters because putting a Woman in that role is just Unheard Of

That is unless the woman is goofy yet threatening because she's lovesick over some guy, of course . or there's already an existing wacky male character and an alternate "female version" is introduced either as a joke or to be a love interest for him

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

LET ME EXPLAIN! I started the playlist because I noticed a lot of songs used cannibalism in regards to love and relationships, and I wanted to collect the songs so I could analyze why!!! Its not weird guys I SWEAR ITS FOR RESEARCH

[futuremrscameron]

luke being mean to these babies i’ll kill him

[cipher-fresh]

Did Eleven ever tell Amy and Rory’s parents that they’re alive in the past? Or did they just go missing a few weeks after a third of the human population had heart attacks?

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Lightshow snippet :)

I've been trying to write a "spiritual sequel" to Steam and Light for 3 years running. It was to feature BoCo (along with a foul-mouthed relief driver) running a couple of holiday specials in mid-December, appropriately decked out in lights... and trying all the while to feign seasonal cheer. Unfortunately the truth is that he regretted this job one second after he let his malewife talk him into it he agreed to it. The result was to be an offbeat little fic for those of us who have ever worked customer service during the holiday. <3

This is me throwing in the towel on this project - just can't quite get the plot to cook.

However, I hereby offer some snippets for anyone who wants one last scrap of under-the-wire Sodor Lightshow 2024 content.

I also wanted to debut my headcanon that Bill and Ben's drivers play Pokemon Go on the job

"Hold still, will ya? We only turned over your engine so we could see what they look like—it'll be a good half hour yet!"

"A half hour?" BoCo looked at the clock mounted at Wellsworth shed, as if somehow it could back him up. But the second hand just went round uselessly at its usual speed, and the workers kept on with their fussing.

"At least. Don't get your pistons in a twist, lad; there's plenty of time."

"And if you don't hold still," quipped another worker, "I'll break out your Santa hat, and you'll wear it till it's time for your train."

BoCo made a face. He thought it was very reasonable to be restless, seventy minutes into his fitting. As the minutes crept by, and the sting of being made sport of held over his headcode as a threat to ensure good behavior deepened, he began to feel slightly murderous.

He wondered if this was how it was for Gordon and James, every other day.

BoCo rolled towards the platform rather unwillingly. There was still plenty of time before they were due, and he always preferred to back onto his train at the last possible minute, when all was just about ready and the passengers were too preoccupied with boarding to bother much about him. But his driver only snorted that shed staff had not gone to all the trouble of decking him out only for them to hide away from the public, so straight to the platform BoCo went.

"Blimey," cried a half-grown boy's cracking voice, anonymous in the throng. "They sent us the diesel, this time!"

"Ooh, gilt and flaaash," said another, with exaggerated awe.

"Sparkly!"

"I think you're a little confused, Diesel," laughed another, "you got all dressed up, but the girls' school is down in Suddery, innit?"

That was about all the reaction he got. The general laughing and shouting afterwards really all had to do with the students' own affairs, but BoCo did not know this and he felt his face start to harden into a grimace—which wasn't very professional, on a passenger service. To soothe his feelings to something more neutral, he gave a brief growl of his engine. "Is anyone here a diesel," he muttered to his driver, all irony, "and hasn't said anything yet?"

"Take it easy, lad," warned his driver. "No need to get your pistons in a twist."

BoCo glared. The smoking boy was too bold to do anything but smile back, although most of his companions started to giggle and shuffle nervously under the weight of a rumbling diesel locomotive's frown.

But not all of them. "C'mon, don't tell tales."

"Yeah, Diesel. Be a mate."

"Relax... have a puff." The tallest boy, taking the funny little whatever from his friend, made a gesture of offer.

This set off a new round of sniggers, and the engine had had enough. Not breaking eye contact, he gave a honk on his horn. 

"PORTER!" he bellowed, making everyone on the platform jump. Save for the insouciant youthful delinquents before him, who only pulled lazy faces of disgust. "If you would help these boys find their way out of the rain, and into a carriage!"

There was a collective groan and "awwww" from the boys. They began to shuffle, as if heading down the platform of their own accord. But they were such lallygags about it that, for all their amorphous shuffling, they hadn't really made an inch of progress before a porter and a schoolmaster came into BoCo's view, chivvying the boys along.

"Rat-sneak," one of them muttered out the corner of his mouth, as they passed level with the engine's bufferbeam.

"Rustbucket," hissed another.

"About as fun as old Eddie, this one..."

BoCo revved his engine, and finally got a jump out of them.

Though even then they laughed as soon as they were out of sight, unrepentant.

BoCo pressed his eyes and lips tightly shut for a moment. He then largely ignored the scolding of his driver, who had run out in alarm at the racket, and who was now grumbling that a body was expected to man a diesel-electric all on her own these days, even though you couldn't trust any engine alone for a moment.

In turn, BoCo growled protest about the blamelessness of his conduct and, especially, the insults he'd been subjected to—as a rule he wasn't a fussy sort of engine, but no locomotive busts their axles day in and day out only to take being called a rustbucket without a murmur. His driver was not oversympathetic. "Abbey boys are snotrags?" She snorted. "I'll alert the press."

People milling about at the fence grumbled among themselves, and a few even called out angrily to the porter as he made his way back into the station house. “Come on, mate! We’re all freezing our—” The cross passenger looked over at BoCo, and reconsidered. For some reason Sudrians were rather particular about their language around locomotives. “—wheels off.” 

The porter ignored the yells. 

The coaches, playing telephone, relayed up to BoCo (and down to the other end of the train) that the child was “overstimulated,” and Stationmaster had given them permission to board early so that the mother might be able to calm the girl and perhaps get her to nap quietly before the rest of the throng boarded, in hopes of avoiding a screaming meltdown. 

BoCo thought this perfectly sensible, and not much cause for the drama of the other waiting passengers. He explained as much to his driver. 

“They all turn into hags, this time of year.” He could feel the driver giving them a dark sideways glare. “Reckon I ought to stay with you this time, and protect you?” 

“My knight in shining armor,” BoCo said drily, making her cackle with a trace of real appreciation.  More passengers trickled into the station, waiting impatiently for the porters to allow them to start boarding. BoCo eyed the clouds and the clock. The former loomed but continued their progress south-east. He reckoned if they started on time they were likely to miss the rain. He’d be just as glad, to catch one break today.

“Was the day so bad as that?” [Edward] asked at last. 

BoCo’s mouth quirked briefly, albeit he’d expected this. “I’ve had worse. But I don’t know how you stand these things. The Middle Station was awful!” 

“Ah, well. Public school boys can be a little obstreperous, I suppose.” 

“Ob,” said BoCo, stunned. “Obstreperous?” 

“Some of them. Some of them are nice lads, though! Did you talk with Robert and Declan?” 

Aha. “You put them up to that?” BoCo asked slowly. 

“Well! I told them, when I dropped them off beginning of term, to expect you might come to take them away. They promised to say hullo. They did, did they?” 

BoCo smiled weariness. He wasn’t surprised, really. “They’re nice kids,” he allowed. “But I’ve no platform manner, Edward. We all know this.”

“It takes practice.” 

“This is my sixty-fourth year of service!” 

Edward winced. “That can’t possibly be true,” he said, somewhere between wistful and dazed. BoCo raised his eyebrows. “But yes, I suppose I deserved that. Still, it’s not about you succeeding or failing. I knew the passengers were safe with you, and that’s all that matters.” 

“I think Bobby and Declan, or whoever, might disagree.” 

“Robert. He hates being called Bobby.” 

“We... didn’t get that far.”

"Ooh! Ooh! It's true!"

"Give us a blink then, BoBoBoCo!"

BoCo smiled. Zippy and troublesome though they might be, the twins were also inextricably tied up for him in the ideas of home and family and he couldn't be cross to see them…

... saving, of course, occasions where they came into view recklessly pushing around trucks with explosives. 

Or messing with his brake tender.

Or covered in petrol because they had "wanted a taste." (He never had pinned down exactly the sequence of events, there…) 

Right, so maybe there were plenty of times he might be cross to see them. 

A little cheeking off, however, never hurt. Not from these two.

And so, he obligingly flicked the lights off and on again.

"Oooooh," the twins chorused, very still and wide-eyed... for at least a whole two seconds.

Ben whistled.

"You can't operate your own lights," Bill teased Edward.

"No," Edward agreed. "I have to rely on the coaches for that!"

"Do it again, BoBoBoCo!" urged Bill.

"I will not," BoCo smiled. "I mustn't risk damaging them. And what's with the new name? It won't do, you know—I don't have that many wheels!"

"Oh, still the same number of bogies?" asked Bill idly.

"We thought you might have evolved by now," giggled Ben.

BoCo glanced at Edward, who mouthed Don't ask.

The pain appeared to have knocked out [the auto-ballaster] during the wait, which was all the better for her. BoCo felt an orderly's regret when he had finished clearing away the other containers. When it was time to approach the derailed ballaster, the loud grinding of the P-Way crane vibrated the rails - and at least two of her wheels were still touching the track.

She came to with a moan, cross-eyed at first, from her awkward angle. It took her several long moments to blink herself awake and as she was doing so all she could see, amid the darkness, was a looming, growling figure, some shape she had never seen the like of, made up of nothing but blinking flashes of red.

"Uhhnnnnmm," she groaned, in hazy, blinded wonderment. "I'm in hell..."

"No. Barrow."

This time she groaned twice as loudly. "Worse and worse! I don't deserve this, I don't... I wasn't that bad..."

[nostalgia-tblr]

speaking of doylist explanations, i do tend to default to one on the question of why missy has a(n interrupted) redemption arc when the other versions of her don't, which is definitely down to the fact that all the new who showrunners seem to go with the view that master as a character exists to be a dark mirror of the doctor, and moffat's the one who doesn't view the doctor as fundamentally good but as someone who has to continually choose to not be terrible. so if the doctor can choose to be bad then by extension it must be true that the master could choose to be good. it's like poetry, it rhymes!

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

I think there's something very terrifyingly charming about Hivemind being very… passionate about obedience. After all, without conformity, unity, deference, a hive would hardly operate in the way it truly needs to. I do think he takes this perspective beyond his hives, though, and into the wider world of Zoraxis and his fellow employees, for better or worse…

Insubordination… frustrates him. Hivemind doesn't believe he could bring himself to hate any of his coworkers, per say, but it gets underneath his skin when they don't just… follow orders as they're given. Unknowingly, others can find him in a rare state of uncharacteristic sternness when anyone disobeys or shrugs off an order from him. Intense staring, ominous looming, his usually chipper voice strained with annoyance.

Are they sure? Mm… It would just be so much nicer if they did this one little favor for him. Hivemind is patient, sure. But not to a fault. There's no room for 'bee' in disobedience.

On the flip side, though, he's more than happy to encourage and enforce the positive behaviors of his coworkers… Treat training and praise are some of his favorite tools, and while some operatives are more susceptible than others, his 'friendly' demeanor earns him a pretty good reputation with the others. It turns into a bit of a feedback loop.

After all, who wouldn't want to do a brief little favor or two in exchange for one of his crowd pleasing honey cupcakes? And he always has just the nicest things to say about your performance each time… You're so smart. Or so strong. So cunning and helpful. What unbeelievably marvelous coworkers he has. 😊.