It's been a bit hot in Britain this week. It reminded me of an old story...

A patina of prickling moisture broke out (annoyingly) across my face, the nape of my neck and between my shoulder blades as I paced (ill-advisedly) about my room, furious - not at John (never John) but at myself. I was caged, confined, burning up in my efforts to master this surge of unwelcome heat which did nothing but dull my mind and boil up my thoughts into an insipid and tasteless broth of ineffectualness. Stopping mid-pace, my blunt instrument eventually ceased its whirrings, settling finally upon a tenable course of action. It was almost eleven at night and the thermometer in the hall showed 31 degrees as I passed through its deadened, leadened air and into the heavy heat of the night. I had to think more clearly, I had to be away from my own four walls and their stifling confinements; I needed a change of scene where I could lie quietly and re-calibrate my thoughts in a cooling calming, florally-papered spare room, and breathe.

I would call upon Molly Hooper.

She wouldn't mind.

(Extract from Summer Night City by Emma_Lynch)

Doesn’t hate on Mark and Steven, and never send any hate to either our writers or cast members

Actually liked S4. It’s all good to have issues with it cause nothing’s 100% perfect, but hating on it is a different thing, so no hate, please

Doesn’t believe in TJLC

Doesn’t hate Mary Watson, Molly Hooper or both

OR