@Holograms: Such a lovely day!! Thank you guys @josebassmakeup @billiepiper
THERE IS A GOD!! #billiepiper on an American (kind of) talk show. #crying
Maybe it’s time you went home.
Penny Dreadful AU - “How long are you stay with me?” “Forever.”
'This is our Yorick. He was a Polish composer and pianist called André Tchaikowsky. And when he died, in the early eighties, he bequeathed his head to be used in a production of Hamlet with the Royal Shakepeare Company. He wanted to play Yorick. So here he is. This is André. He was introduced to us by our director Greg on the first day of rehearsals, as the final member of the company. There was a variety of reactions to having a real human head in the production. Some people find it quite difficult. I must say, personally, I was rather excited by it. It's one of the clichés of the play now, an actor holding a skull. And I suppose the trouble with the cliché is that it loses meaning. But if you are presented with an actual person's skull, a real bit of human, then Hamlet's speech about Yorick and about staring at the skull of a man he knew well… it becomes all the more potent when you are aware that you are holding somebody's head quite literally in your hands. There he is. André was there. I feel very pleased to have helped him fulfil his ambition.'
—David Tennant, Shakespeare Uncovered
Brona Croft + sensuality
Alienor bought ticket for Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible” (in the Old Vic this Summer), because she wanted a play about witches without anyone famous in it.
Today they announced that John Proctor will be played by Richard Armitage.
and I am laughing so much!
but also crying because I won’t be able to see this…
the tenth doctor being ridiculously handsome
↳ silence in the library/forest of the dead
Here’s the third entry for this particular round of fic tennis. That’ll be the tag you’ll want to savior if you’re looking to take a pass on these shenanigans.
ETA: There’s a bit of action-y violence in gallifreyburning’s last section, be ye warned.
When Rose wakes, it’s to the feel of something hard beneath her head, and something soft and hairy beneath her hand.
Her fingers curl on reflex, looking for purchase, and the soft, hairy thing under her palm sucks in a breath. She snaps her eyes open, and she’s greeted by the sight of green velvet.
Oh, right, the Doctor. The rain. The wardrobe change. The mental, up-ended state of her life.