Love is never wrong.

Hey I'm Beth. I'm pansexual and goddamn proud of it. Don't be afraid to say hello. Lover of way too many TV shows. RIP Tommy Marth. Travel well darling.

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Literally my math teacher abandoned today’s lesson because some kid brought his kitten to school i don’t even know

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Today I read an article about Steven Moffat’s Doctor Who in the Arts and Books section of the Independent on Sunday. In this article, by Stephen Kelly, Moffat is criticised for his inability to write women, to complete his plots, to write the Doctor as a likeable and trustworthy figure, and to keep his audience entertained. Yet one line in this frankly scathing (and almost painfully truthful) review reads: ‘When on form, Steven Moffat is the best writer working in television today’.

Having read said article, and written rather a lot of Moffat critique myself, the statement baffled me. Kelly’s entire article is lamenting the current state of Doctor Who at the hands of this man, and yet Moffat is still gifted with glowing praise.

It’s a common theme. I see it often when people are asked to review Moffat’s work. It seems people are almost afraid of criticising him, seeing as he has been lauded one of Britain’s most brilliant television writers.

It’s like the Emperor’s New Clothes. The Myth of Moffat’s Scriptwriting ‘Genius’. It’s a lie we’ve all absorbed and now just assume to be true. Sherlock himself would be frankly appalled by the entire thing. We are seeing, but we apparently do not observe.

Fellow Sherlock watchers will know what I mean (although many will probably not agree) when I equate Moffat’s writing to the empty houses of Leinster Gardens. An empty façade. It looks great from the outside, but when you step closer, you realise it’s just a whopping great train station with some drugged up self-proclaimed sociopath lurking in it.

 Let’s examine this case a little closer, shall we?

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OUAT MEME #3 | five otps  → Belle x Rumplestiltskin (1/5)

"I am now and for all the future yours."

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We are creatures of the underworld. We can’t afford to love.

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Since Mary, Queen of Scotland, was a child the English have wanted her country and her crown. She is sent to France to wed its next king, to save herself and her people - a bond that should protect her, but there are forces that conspire, forces of darkness, forces of the heart. Long may she reign.

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Frary + T o u c h i n g

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I’ve got to get personal, and while I’m not comfortable with that, I’m in a spot where it has to be done and tumblr is a good community. Please read this through.

The story: I am an expat. I live in Germany. I also have an unfortunate tendency to forget my key. This time the business card of…

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