Dear James Robert McCrimmon,
Never have I ever tried to look up your kilt. Not once.
Anyone who says otherwise is a filthy lying redcoat.
Most clean-mindedly,
Nilamarthiel
Got something to say to a fictional character from a book, movie or TV show? Send it in!
Never have I ever tried to look up your kilt. Not once.
Anyone who says otherwise is a filthy lying redcoat.
Most clean-mindedly,
Nilamarthiel
The West Wing wasn’t the same once you left.
Also I wish I had a tenth of your writing skill.
Thanks for coming back.
-Bronze
Sorry for temporarily abandoning you. I’m back now.
-Bronze.
P.S. People, submit! The more letters the merrier!
awaris asked: Dear Robb,
Please, kick some serious Lannister ass for all of us. And don't you dare get killed in the process.
Concerned,
awaris
PS: Possibly come visit me later? I have tea and cookies.
If you’re being filmed, and if you are skinning and gutting a fully-grown deer, here’s some simple suggestions:
1. hang the carcass by the back legs to allow for drainage and ease of access.
2. wash your hands.
3. take that silly cloth glove off.
4. get someone who knows what they’re doing to do it.
You look a little ridiculous peeling a deerskin off the carcass without any tension or cleaning the insides first.
Enjoy the series,
Bronze
You may be nicknamed Satanas, the Devil, the dangerous man who is selfish and cruel—but in reality, you’re pretty tame and your character growth throughout These Old Shades was quite powerful and persuasive.
I’m really rather glad that things turned out as they did with Leonie, because no one else could ever marry you and survive.
You may well have been one of the first literary creations I fell in love with, closely followed by the Earl of Worth and the Earl of Rule respectively - and one or two other Georgette Heyer heroes.
Your sarcasm and wit are as fresh as the first day I read them and while most of the world may be ignoring you, you’ve got a constant fangirl here.
Yours,
Bronze
thebitternessisrisingup asked: Would I be allowed to submit another monster letter or should I wait until after you've had some normal sized letters first?
Monster letters are always welcome if well-constructed. :)
Dear Doctor,
We’ve only just met officially; my father was a great friend of yours a few incarnations ago, but I think I already know you better. He forgets, you see - he’s getting old, and there’s not much he and I have in common anymore. We never really did have a lot in common, to be honest.
His name is John, and he still thinks people my age listen to the radio to hear new music. He doesn’t know how to use the internet very well. He texts as though he’s an operator of old Morse code who’s only just begun his job, and he’s quite old enough to be my grandfather. He wasn’t around much when I was a child (though by yours and his standards, I still am one) and we never connected as we should have. We’re awkward around each other. We yell at each other a lot because he has a temper and I have a defiant streak I think you’d be proud of - and if I know one thing about my father, it’s that he IS proud of that much as well.
I just wanted to thank you for bringing my father and I a little closer together. Neither of my parents are in great health, and they are not going to live to see truly old age - they’re both in their fifties and failing quickly. I, on the other hand, am only 19. I still live with them, and watching them die day by day should be sadder than it is, but as you say, “everything has its time and everything dies”. Before that time, though, I want them to be proud of me and I want them to know that their daughter did care about them and love them, no matter how difficult they are to love.
It gives me great solace and pleasure to follow my father out the door of the apartment and perch myself on the staircase while he leans out the door to smoke and discuss “our” Doctors - for him, it was the Fourth, and for me, it was the Ninth (though I must admit, Ten and Eleven are both winning me over. If there wasn’t such a mortifyingly big age gap between you and I, I would definitely make remarks about your Tenth incarnation and the sheer attractiveness of those glasses - but I digress). I ask him why the Daleks are so terrifying and he compares them to the Borg and when I fully understand the reference, I smile and think to myself, “our ‘geek’ is showing. We should cover that up before anyone sees”. I tell him about K9 Mark IV and your regeneration into the Tenth Doctor (I still think that the next episode was the most I’ve ever laughed. The way to tickle my funny bone is definitely with Christmas-tree-shaped holes in apartment walls, random fruit found in dressing gown pockets, and Lion King quotes). He tells me about your scarf back when you were Four, and how Five unraveled it to find his way around the TARDIS. He recounts a story of my late grandmother, and how when K9 first appeared and you claimed they were “all the rage in Trenton, New Jersey” (a mere forty miles from home) that she demanded my father bring one back the next time he visited.
Thank you, Doctor.
One last gratitude, if I may: I don’t scare easily, but when things that go bump in the night DO manage to startle me, I need only remind myself that you are every inch as real as they are, and I feel safe again.
All my love and admiration,
Amberlee
I hope you go back to normal soon. I’m not sure I like Godstiel very much.
Love,
A very concerned E
I wish there were more politicians like you in the real world.
We’d be a lot better off.
-Bronze
I love you and the fact that you seek out isolation and simplicity. I also love the fact that you swear a lot.
If I was fictional and lived in the fifties, I would marry you and we could play checkers and go people-shooting as often as you wanted.
Yours,
Alice.
I need SUBMISSIONS!
Any character! Anywhere! Any book! Any TV show! Any movie! Any cartoon, comic, sketch, fanbase!
Go forth and submit ye!
-Bronze
Just remember that you aren’t alone. I know you’re having a hard time of it with River being who knows what and the TARDIS situation. Sometimes you seem so alone and sad that I want to cry for you, that I do. But you aren’t alone. You have friends who love you and that sexy blue box that stole you and wont ever give you back.
A soppy Whovian