Bitches Will Be Like “this Is My Comfort Show” And Its A Show Where The Characters Have Never Felt

The most important thing about characterization of the Doctor is that they simultaneously be an awe-inspiring ancient eldritch of incomprehensible intellect and power, and also the biggest dork you have ever met.

They walk in eternity, they're made of fire and ice and forever, and it is so embarrassing to be seen with them in public.

I'm so tired, I'm so so tired.

Watching TV shows has become the most tiring thing in this dystopian, late-stage capitalistic hellscape.

It doesn't matter how much we love those shows, how much we talk about them, how much we promote it online. Big streaming services will just cancel them on a Friday night and then let them slowly fall into oblivion. If by SOME MIRACLE the show doesn't get cancelled after the first season, it'll just decline over the years, some crazy writer will cook up a poorly written plot, or they'll just lose interest in the project and then leave the fans in the trenches.

Big corporate streaming services just think that views are gonna materialize out of thin air??? They barely promote their new shows and they DEMAND high views just to let them keep going? It's THEIR JOB to promote shows, but obviously they couldn't care less, they only care about money, and they leave the promoting job to the fans which is batshit insane if you ask me.

Streaming services were supposed to be the solution, the chosen one if you will, but they turned out to be the villains.

Owning a movie or a show is now absolutely impossible because God forbid they release DVDs anymore. Streaming services will just randomly DELETE their cancelled shows and movies from their platforms. Fans are now supposed to be PR teams for Netflix, HBO, Prime and whatever other stupid streaming apps out there because they couldn't be bothered to,,, idk,,, do their job and promote their own shows!? They're literally acting like villains.

It feels dystopic really.

I know I probably sound like a person yelling at a cloud but it's starting to become exhausting.

And I know that there are far worse things out there, that there are more important matters to focus on, but I'm so tired.

They're killing art. There are so many people out there that put all their love and all their passion and skills into creating amazing shows that SO MANY other people love and they feel represented by, but they don't care.

This is literally my last straw.

They're killing art with their greed.

So my older sibling jokingly said that the cloaked person in the flashback was the trickster (like the big dude with no eyes and scary teeth from Sarah jane adventures) cos we used to love Sarah Jane as kids but like the trickster is part of a group called the pantheon of Discord. The pantheon like Maestro. And if you go even further the beetle on Donna's back in turn left is part of the trickster brigade. And what was the beetle trying to do? Stop the doctordonna. And who has just come back? The doctordonna. And who caused the bigeneration? The pantheon. This theory is getting concerningly close to being true. If my sibling is right I'm gonna be so mad they will be insufferable.

You're telling me Eliot Spencer, the guy who wipes the floor with 6/7 bad guys in SECONDS, the guy who got rid of a goon in the kitchen and didn't even have to stop garnishing and plating coz he'll be damned if he got an order late, that guy, just, tells his Hardison to stop eating his food? Doesn't try to wrestle it away? When we know he could take it away and paralyse him with one hand without even using all the fingers? Instead he just says stop eating my food and grumbles how Hardison can't run a brew pub and then cooks for said brew pub? Huh.

The fact that articles about which songs are about who were published not even an hour after the album was released infuriates me. This album is so clearly about Taylor and her story; not the men who may have inspired her writings. Never has a Taylor album been so centered around her and her reflecting on herself and people trying to attribute which songs belong to what muse misses the entire point of the work.

I believe in you.

Glass Onion Parallels (insp)

I adore them

(really in my feels about the ot3 because of the @powerpolyculeshowdown so here's some propaganda)

parker and hardison allow eliot to be sillier. more ridiculous. outragous, even. eliot sings the stupid ditties hardison writes special for him, and he rolls his eyes at parkers pokes and prods and the occasional "accidental" face slap, and eliot can express himself for what actually bothers him no matter how nitpicky, versus having to calculate what he should say. (he still argues with hardison that throwing in on a brewpub was a stupid plan given its risk, no matter how many times hardison claims it was always a gift for him.) eliot laughs more. real laughs; you can tell because his smiles look more and more like grimaces: the way his ma perked her mouth which his dad always teased her about (though it was his favorite thing about her), rather than the wide toothy grins eliot learned because he knows, tactically, they are best for charming. parker and hardison let him not feel like he's a monster. or... parker tells him she always thought the big bad wolf had a bad rap, and hardison says some stupid shit about monsterfucking being the hip thing the kids are into these days, anyway.

hardison and eliot allow parker to feel deep. it's food that tastes like a hug and it's gadgets made just for her and it's loving and being loved and it's being one another's real families. she doessn't want to run away, anymore. or... she wants to run but with her friends beside her. or... running cons is all she's ever wanted to do, and all she did, for so long. parker is good at it. she loves it. she loves that hardison and eliot love it too. but... feeling deep is also being deep. she's no longer just her piles of money because she is no longer afraid of herself. her past. the memories that hurt. the habits she thought she needed to grow out of but always missed. these habits, like bleeping sounds that arent words and hands move move moving. hands that were once made to stay now can fly because hardison buys her fidgets and designs some just for her and keeps locks in lucille for when parker feels like infinity and needs the vibrations of ticktickticks to bring her back to herself. and eliot lets her braid and unbraid his hair; he won't let her blow dry it, not yet, but... he lets her pet his hair while it's still hot, now. it frizzes his hair a little, and parker feels her pulse rush throughout the day knowing she did that to him. eliot and hardison kiss her knuckles when they burn.

parker and eliot allow hardison to be mean. vindictive. he is nicer than he needs to be. wants to be... what he needs to be is nonthreatening, for the most part, in many places. he knows what it means to be him: tall and black and queer and gaining muscle and too smart for his own damn good and so very, very tenderhearted. hardison loves so damn deep, and he cares so damn much, but part of caring (the other side of a coin) is not giving a fuck. it's the boiling point of rage and betrayal. the i need to walk away from this fight because you are dead wrong and imma about to say something imma regret, so go fix yourself. the im not gonna forget, im not going to forgive, and im going to get my revenge. parker and eliot would not have questioned hardison's joy at securing the capture of the men that put him in that damn coffin; they hold space for him to be fully himself with all his ugly parts and his petty parts and the parts that do bring hardison shame if he thinks about it for too long. they know he's not perfect, and that? that feels like safety and love and forever to hardison.

There's something so special about the first book of some teen series. The Darkest Minds? It was a found family road trip before the shit hit the fan. One of the most comfortable things I'd ever read as a 14 year old. The Raven Boys? Youthful shenanigans with a side of magical ulterior motives. The Thief? A Good Girls Guide to Murder? Cinder? Percy Jackson? By the time you get to the end of almost any series you're so far in that you forget they were ever kids and that it was ever okay and that anything was ever unimportant. But the magical thing about the first book is that for just a brief moment nothing is deep and very little is complicated and everything hurts less than it will in the future.