I like Sally Donovan and Dr Martha Jones

Ace. Queer. European citizen. Finnemorefan. Ashamed of the existence of Florian Silbereisen. The 9th Doctor is my Doctor. There will be no looming on this blog. I tend to get a bit rabid whenever David Tennant is playing someone who's broody. I once made a post about finding the location of Fitton. I wasn't too wrong. I love looking at Raumpatrouille from a feminist perspective. There will be long posts about Rivers of London meta on this blog (here is my take on the Elbe and her family). This blog recently mutated into quite a The Professionals blog. This blog may contain traces of Germanness. Zu Risiken und Nebenwirkungen fragen Sie Ihren Arzt oder Apotheker.

[ilikesallydonovan]

Note for anyone who wants to follow me: I generally block any blogs that don't show any reblogged posts, as I've had too many empty blogs follow me that turned out to be porn bots a couple of days later.

I also usually don't take part in tag posts - sometimes because I find them too personal but mostly because I wanna answer them later when I've got the time and then I forget about them every. single. time.

[13shapeshifters]

ich glaube das wetter hat vergessen dass es bei pride month ums schwul sein geht und nicht darum wie unglaublich schwül es sein kann.

[optimisticrunawaygalaxy]

I Love germans "Da ist hopfen und malz verloren" like man we cant even make beer out of that guy

[ilikesallydonovan]

Es ist echt eine Unverschämtheit, wichtige Fußwege ohne Vorwarnung und Ausschilderung zu sperren. Wenn ich 2 Minuten zurück gehen muss, weil ich mich wegen ner Sperrung unerwartet in ner Sackgasse wiederfinde, und der Umweg dann 3 Minuten dauert, dann verpasse ich meinen Zug. Aber mit Fußgängern kann mans ja machen.

[tealovinghermit]

Ich hoffe Deutschland fliegt bei der WM direkt raus das ganze rumgehype geht mir jetzt schon auf dem Sack

[antlered-vixen]

I am so tired of short-attention-span, trim-the-fat culture. All writing advice these days is for how to write like Chuck Palahniuk. "Cut 'think', cut 'feel', cut 'wonder' - only action, only pushing forward, show and move and move and move." What if I could emulate this style, and still don't want to? What if I want to write like Henry James, with three paragraphs of introspective musings between each dialogue line? The music advice is, "make it shortform, make it Tik-Tok compatible, make it punchy, hit the refrain as soon as possible." What if I want that 10-minute prog rock piece? What if I want that symphony? What if I want it slow and luxurious and lazy? Movies. Series. Poetry. Bodies. Everything is "trimmed trimmed trimmed trimmed, stripped bare, you have three seconds to win me over, make it airport chic." I don't want to win you over, then, I guess. I want the fat left it. I want the pleasure and the indolence and the indulgence. Fuck this art-advice that's always "your art needs Ozempic."

[falconwhitaker]

So I read Chuck Palahniuk's book on writing, and while he does say to cut words like "think" and "feel", I interpreted his explanation as a more detailed version of "show, don't tell".

So instead of saying, I don't know, "Amy had always liked Brian", you'd say something like "Amy always waited for Brian after class, leaning up on the locker next to his, a piece of gum in her mouth. She never smiled when she saw him, but he always saw her body relax when he got near."

I bring this up because I find it funny that the trim-the-fat style wants to emulate Chuck Palahniuk when his own book on writing doesn't tell you to write like that.

[tatters-the-bat]

Reports say Windows 15 will be "a transparent pane of glass" that will be installed into frames on a wall; Lead developer comments, "finally, we got it right. Somehow we kept making operating systems instead and it was getting really frustrating."

[twentybrokenipodclassics]

the postal service names their shit exactly like how a 16 y.o. names angsty fanfic

[punk-squirrely-ghost]

Explain.

[twentybrokenipodclassics]

try and tell me literally any one of these would not fit above a short story about two wholly random men from the MCU fingering each other, or possibly 12 chapters of one or more characters from a CW show being in high school while having a photogenic but terminal kind of cancer. try.

[twentybrokenipodclassics]

ok so i want to say in hindsight i think i could probably have been clearer

[hellenhighwater]

What is a cat if not a silly little guy that follows you around 24/7, making funny faces and shedding on your clean clothes?

[joeyclaire]

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

[spiralingintocontrol]

goose

[daggers-drawn]

All it means when people say “you’re speaking from a place of privilege” is that you’re likely to underestimate how bad the problem is by default because you are never personally exposed to that problem. It’s not a moral judgement of how difficult your life is.

[mrloveballad]

^^^^^^ read it. say it out loud. keep repeating it until you understand.

[aboutoriginality]

[3frogs]

Graffiti Tunnel Diorama in 1/35 scale by Aidencreates on Instagram

[not100bees]

The Ikea biphobia couch is the funniest thing that's ever happened. We found it gang. Nothing will ever top it in terms of being funny.

[dead-boysss]

The what???

[not100bees]

The Ikea biphobia couch.

[dead-boysss]

???

[not100bees]

I don't know what to tell you man.

[rederiswrites]

Saw this on FB and tried to find the original, which I haven't, but the point is so solid.

[stargoyle]

"This person has a secret onlyfans!" "This artist does NSFW commissions!" "This author writes porn on the side!" I cannot begin to tell you how swag and awesome that is.

[upsettingandunfortunateclasshate]

My son's tattoo hurt me deeply

When Tess Morgan's son came home with a tattoo, she was griefstricken. She knew her reaction was OTT (he's 21) but it signalled a change in their relationship

This is gold this, absolute gold, the most over the top melodramatic hysterical ridiculous thing I’ve ever read

[brawlcloud]

This is actually so interesting to read- it’s from 2012 but its full of the same anxieties, even some of the same phrasing that many of the guardian’s later pieces on transness use. really hammers home how much of the terfism that emerged in the late 10s was middle class mothers angry at a loss of control over their adult children- whether that be their bodies or their friends or their opinions- and making that everyone’s problem because they have the power to do so

[monkey-cat-vivi]

He says, “I’m still the same person.”

I look at him, sitting there, my 21-year-old son. I feel I’m being interviewed for a job I don’t even want. I say, “But you’re not. You’re different. I will never look at you in the same way again. It’s a visceral feeling. Maybe because I’m your mother. All those years of looking after your body – taking you to the dentist and making you drink milk and worrying about green leafy vegetables and sunscreen and cancer from mobile phones. And then you let some stranger inject ink under your skin. To me, it seems like self-mutilation. If you’d lost your arm in a car accident, I would have understood. I would have done everything to make you feel better. But this – this is desecration. And I hate it.”

[quasi-normalcy]

Also just the classism of her associating tattoos with “vest tops, dogs on chains, broken beer glasses”; like, just say you hate poor people

[bookshelfdreams]

aaaah I remember this article from when it first made the rounds, a true classic. So glad to see it’s still online. Here are some of my favourite bits:

“On my arm,” he says, and touches his bicep through his shirt. His lovely shoulder.

“It’s just a tattoo,” he says, when the silence goes on so long that we have nearly fallen over the edge of it into a pit of black nothingness. “It’s not as if I came home and said I’d got someone pregnant.” It seems to me, unhinged by shock, that this might have been the better option.

For three days, I can’t speak to my son. I can hardly bear to look at him. I decide this is rational.

I have a lump in my throat that stops me from eating. I feel as if someone has died. I keep thinking of his skin, his precious skin, inked like a pig carcass.

It’s the permanence that makes me weep. As if the Joker had made face paints from acid. Your youthful passion for ever on display, like a CD of the Smiths stapled to your forehead.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; pack up the moon and dismantle the sun. I am redundant. And that’s a legitimate cause for grief, I think.

[trickstertime]

Just a perfectly normal life hack video, no need to specifically tag @were--ralph for any particular reason

[sour-charity]