Self-proclaimed writer and singer.
Others-proclaimed cynical bitch.
22 years old, more jaded than I should be.
Feminist, intellectualist, agnostic.
SuperWhoLockian, Loki fangirl.
A little pretentious.
A little hypocritical.
A little condescending.
100% awesome.
Obsessing Over
Reading
Playing
Supercalifragiliciousexpialidocious in Gallifreyan.
Tweaked it to get the second image. I like it, and it shouldn’t change the meaning there is no sphere with 7393428292764364 lines connecting to it so that should fall within the limits of “Aesthetic decision.”
Lemme know which you like best. 1 or 2.
I like the second one better. It looks…cleaner, I guess. Very nice.
the north remembers
and lots of planets have a north so
The Avengers’ names written in Circular Gallifreyan.
#For Dyer #How many are wrong
for the most part they are close to correct, as you’d expect from someone just using the Gallifreyan maping translator program. The main issue is they choose to place the lines across other consonants making new consonants.
Natasha has become Navasha
Stark has become Svark
also in the case of Odinson since the O is attached to the D and not seperate it is assumed to come AFTER the D. Thor Doinson
#plus a lot of the vowels are messed up #all the A’s are INSIDE The circles instead of outside #a couple i’s look like u’s #and a u looks like an i #and some the e’s are on the inside too but not attached to consonants #don’t get me wrong these are pretty and super cool
I’m sorry the art I worked so hard on doesn’t measure up to your perfect sensibilities. I’m sure your Avengers Gallifreyan is much better.
My style, technique, and interpretation of Gallifreyan evolves and advances constantly. I made these over a year ago.
And no, I didn’t use a translator program. I made them myself with the alphabet chart and MS Paint.
One last thing: extending the lines over other consonants doesn’t change what they are. Where the line ENDS is what matters, not what it crosses. Pretty sure if the person who wrote the guide does it that way, it means it’s okay.
(Source: cl-productions)
As promised, Photoset of Tardis motorcycle. Pictures courtesy of LejonAJohnson and Photo Knight on Flickr.
I don’t think I have ever physically ‘lolled’ until this moment.
Bernard Tennant.
David Cribbins.
#Priceless.
I can’t get over the Ten/Donna one. It makes Ten look like Will Ferrell, somehow.
AU - Johnny Depp as the 12th Doctor and Helena Bonham Carter as his fearless companion because it’s bloody hilarious okay
inspired by this post
And now the story of a madman who lost his box, and the one family who had no choice but to let him into their model home. It’s…a very strange show.
(Source: flapperorslapper)
So I just have to make a twelfth doctor rant.
I don’t care what race the doctor will be. That shouldn’t even be an issue. I’ll like the doctor exactly the same. It just depends on character.
However, I don’t want the doctor to be female. Before you call me sexist, listen to my reasoning: though…
Lonely, dark, quirky, and funny. All things a woman just cannot be. Of course. Silly women thinking they can do man things. If the Doctor becomes a woman she’s just blather on about shoes and whatnot. Duh.
“They are also offering odds on Sherlock star Martin Freeman, on Skyfall’s Ben Whishaw and on former assistant Billie Piper returning to the series as the Doctor’s new incarnation.”
(x)
Okay I could see Colin Morgan, Russel Tovey, or David Morrissey, because Doctor Who has cast people who have had minor roles before. Freema Agyeman played her own cousin, Karen Gillan was one of the soothsayers in the Fires of Pompeii, etc. But Billie Piper is ROSE. She’s one of the most popular characters on the show. A huge part of the fandom loves her, and a huge part hates her as well, but everyone knows her. Just…what?
Of all the actors listed, I’d vote either Idris Elba, Helen Mirren, or Richard Ayoade.
If I were going strictly on comedic value and just something I’d love to see but couldn’t take seriously: Ayoade as the Doctor, Russell Brand and Noel Fielding as his companions.
But, knowing DW’s writers, it’s going to be someone no one has even thought of.
THIS WILL NOT BE INCLUDED IN THE PROJECT. THIS WAS ONLY MADE DUE TO HIGH DEMAND AND IS IN A DIRECT COMPETITION WITH RISE OF THE BRAVE TANGLED DRAGONS.
the amount of followers you have is how old you are
the person you reblog this from is your companion
your icon is what your current regeneration looks like
your job (or one of your parent’s jobs) is your timelord name
I am 908 years old.
My companion is a fantastic Ginger.
My Time Lord name is The Champion.
I thought I was just a survivor, but I’m not. I’m the winner.
Pretty sure that, aside from being female, I’m actually the Doctor.
I had a dream last night that involved The Doctor and Clara running from something, Daenerys Targaryen being hunted through an empty old boarding school by a man that looked like a cross between Dorium Maldovar and Xaro Xhoan Daxos, and my family and I trying to escape from a sinking car.
I really wish I could remember more of it.
$165 to take the GED test and actually do something with my life.

An upright stationary bicycle. You know, the ones you use to exercise.

Doctor Who Monopoly

An ice cream cake. I’ve just been craving one for like three months and now I have an excuse to have one.

A big bottle of hazelnut Baileys Irish Créme

prends-la-vie-comme-elle-vient:
AsylumWaiting Room of the Big Three.it’s funny because it looks like the sherlock fandom are sane here
Sherlock bustled about the kitchen, throwing a cupboard door open and pushing aside a box of nicotine patches to retrieve two mismatched mugs. A kettle whistled plaintively in the background, like it had been trying to draw attention to itself for a while now. Setting the mugs aside, Sherlock absently pulled the kettle off the stove, poured tea into the two mugs, and carried them into the living room.
Doctor Who was sprawled over the same chair it had collapsed into last night, when it had appeared at the door muttering inanely about lost regenerations and knackered navigations systems. It made a whining noise as Sherlock tucked the shock blanket it had thrown off in the night back around its shoulders.
Supernatural was in similar straits, curled up on the floor with a throw pillow and a tattered trench coat around its shoulders and alternating between sobbing and muttering about domesticity potential.
A thudding on the stairs indicated the ruckus had finally awoke Merlin, who poked its head into the room, hair sticking up at all angels as it tied its scarf around its neck. Blinking blearily at the mess, it seemed to realize what had occurred when it picked up a discarded bow-tie from the floor, holding it between forefinger and thumb, “Is it that time already?”
“It was bad this year,” Sherlock whispered, trying not to exacerbate the already fragile fandoms under its care.
“I remember what that was like,” Merlin muttered, running a hand through its hair and pulling a cape off the nearby coat rack, “I’ll go to the store. We’re out of milk again. May as well pick up some fish fingers, custard, and salt.”
Supernatural gurgled something quietly.
“No, I won’t forget the pie.”
I SWEAR TO GOD TUMBLR NEVER FUCKING CHANGE