#200th post by the way

[die-auster]

In lots of Asian (and also North American) cultures moon was associated with a rabbit or a hare.

Why did you make her a fox, Netflix? Why a fox???

[hellhathfrozethover]

Mega Man 2 Powered Up - Dialogue (*Mega Man route)

uh.

out of nowhere, I know. but also....please...I've been thinking abt this concept for years. turning it over and over in my head for quite literally, years. at least since 7th grade.

it needs to get Out of my system and Put somewhere...even if it sucks and plenty of people have tread this ground before.

It's not just banter either! got ideas for extra modes, challenges, bonus content, dlc....fuck man i just miss mmpu, what can I say? but i need to focus on one aspect at a time or we'll never get a thing done.

this kind of blossomed out of an abandoned project i was doing w former friends. as far as i know (unless one of them wants to step up and take it from me), it was pretty much left to my hands. we didnt get very far, but i'm fairly secure in Rock's, Metal's, and Air's exchanges, and the circumstances surrounding the Wilybots' playability.

i have plenty of thumbnails, but they're all scribbly and just for personal ref. it's hard to tell what's going on in some of them so i decided not to include them. i might do the ones i scrapped up for the opening cinematic and ending, but eh. only if anyone gives a shit lol.

further apologies if these characterisations don't agree with you lmao. you must understand going in that ive got my own ideas of how ppl sound and act and it reflects in the way they're written.this may lead to Cringe. please contact your health provider if you feel an acute sensation of Cringe lasting longer than five hours after reading this script. other side effects such as dizziness, nausea, dry mouth, and diarrhoea have been rep

(OPENING MONOLOGUE)

Narrator: The year is 200X. Dr. Light's former lab assistant, Rock, has since been modified into a super robot named Mega Man. Mega Man was built to stop the evil desires of Dr. Wily. As such, he rescued his fellow creations of Dr. Light from his clutches and saved the people of Earth. After his defeat, Dr. Wily retired to the cover of shadow…only to return boasting eight new robots of his own…

(TUTORIAL STAGE CUTSCENE)

[Mega Man runs across a terrorised city street in the middle of the night.]

[His COM unit begins to ring as he's running. It rings twice before he picks up, still running.]

Mega Man: Professor? Is that you?

Dr. Light: It is. Roll and I have gathered some intel for you: We have the approximate locations of Dr. Wily's robots.

Mega Man: Right. I'll be back to the lab as soon as I can.

Dr. Light: Don't be reckless, Rock. The maps show danger on the roads ahead of you. Please be careful out there.

[Dr. Light hangs up. Shortly after, an explosion is heard. Mega Man narrowly avoids bullet fire and proceeds to the right, beginning the tutorial stage.]

(VS. WILY - 1st TIME)

--WARNING!--

[Dr. Wily approaches from the background in his new capsule. The top opens, and he steps forward. His irises are distinctly red.]

Dr. Wily: Nu-ha-ha! You are too late, Mega Man! My robots are already busy conquering every major institution in your country! Soon, nothing will stand between me, and a seat at the top of this world!

Mega Man: Dr. Wily, why are you doing this?! You told me you were a changed man!

Dr. Wily: And you truly believed me? You are worse than the idiot human who constructed you! But enough talk -- I have business to attend to!

[Dr. Wily retreats into his capsule, and flies vertically out of sight. A cumbersome red battle mech named PLAT-4M stomps in menacingly from the right side of the screen.]

Dr. Wily: Fare-well, you insignificant little helper robot! Nwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!

(POST-TUTORIAL STAGE CUTSCENE)

[PLAT-4M is totaled, but still present after the fight. Mega Man's COM unit rings, twice again, before he picks up.]

Dr. Light: Rock! Are you alright?

Mega Man: Yeah…I just beat the mech Dr. Wily sent after me…

Dr. Light: Let's have a look…oh, that's very interesting…do you think could you do me a favour? Please, send this machine back to the lab. I have an idea.

Mega Man: What is it, Professor?

Dr. Light: Its moving parts in isolation may be useful to you, if reconfigured. I don't know precisely how quite yet, but I'll keep you updated on future developments as I work.

Mega Man: Understood, I'm on it. Over and out!

[PLAT-4M is sent off to Light Laboratories in a beam of red and white light. Mega Man follows shortly thereafter.]

-LOADING...-

[Mega Man touches base and stops in front of a large, idle monitor. Dr. Light and Roll are waiting on the left.]

Roll: Welcome back! Oh -- here's the location data Dr. Light was talking about!

[The screen cuts on, showing the eight robots available on the stage select.]

Dr. Light: They may not be exact, but the readings show they are stationed in these general areas. A quick search may turn up results.

Mega Man: Thanks, Professor. I'll head out as soon as I can.

Roll: Good luck, Rock! We're counting on you!

(VS. METAL MAN)

--WARNING!--

[A Metal Blade flies across the room just over Mega Man's head. Metal Man flips himself up on the belt from below to catch it, and pose.]

Metal Man: Sorry kid, no access past this point. Afraid I'm gonna have to cut you off here.

Mega Man: I'm not leaving until you give up control of the recycling plant, Metal Man!

Metal Man: Stubborn, are we? Heh…if you wanna get sent home in shreds, that's fine by me.

(VS. AIR MAN)

--WARNING!--

[Similarly to his appearance in Mega Man: The Power Battle, Air Man emerges from the eye of a developing tornado.]

Air Man: HARK! The vagabond rapscallion appears! What wind blows you here?

Mega Man: The winds of change! I'm here to stop you!

Air Man: FORSOOTH! The great AIR MAN will not be defeated by an insolent whelp such as yourself! Have at you, MegaMan!

(VS. BUBBLE MAN)

--WARNING!--

[Similarly to his appearance in Mega Man 2: The Power Fighters, Bubble Man rises up in a giant bubble. When it pops, he performs a backflip stroke.]

Bubble Man: Buh, what was it…oh! Ahem... Welcome, Mega Man, to Davy Jones' Locker!

Mega Man: Aww, a bubblemaking robot, he's totally harmless... We don't have to fight, do we?

Bubble Man: B-buh? Harmless?! I…I'm dangerous I tell you, super dangerous! Take me on, I'll make you eat craw!

(VS. QUICK MAN)

--WARNING!--

[Quick Man dashes across the raised floors in a blur. At the peak of his third jump, he flips into a pose on the room's right end.]

Quick Man: What took you so long? Waitin' on slowpokes really drives me crazy, y'know?

Mega Man: Quick Man, hurry and shut this place down! You're gonna wreck the city's central power grid!

Quick Man: No way! Now that you're finally here, I'm runnin' you into the ground! Don't blink -- you'll miss me!

(VS. CRASH MAN)

--WARNING!--

[The pipes on the right end of the room explode violently. Crash Man is blasted in, but recovers with a roll and stumble to a stand.]

Crash Man: You're Mega Man…the evil monster Dr. Wily warned me about…

Mega Man: Evil…? No, you're wrong! I'm fighting against world domination!

Crash Man: I WON'T FALL FOR YOUR TRICKS! For the sake of Dr. Wily, and all my brothers, I WILL DESTROY YOU!!

(VS. FLASH MAN)

--WARNING!--

[Everything freezes until there's a sudden burst of white light. As it clears, Flash Man materialises on the right end of the room in a pose.]

Flash Man: Oh my…even from here, I can see your heart's been blinded by the light…isn't it sad?

Mega Man: Huh? What are you talking about…?

Flash Man: Forced to fight to protect those close to you…hasn't it clicked that we're one in the same?

(VS. HEATMAN)

--WARNING!--

[Heat Man's box sits plainly on the floor until it jumps. His arms and legs pop out, and the lid opens in a flare of fire once he's fully standing.]

Heat Man: Ugh. Guess I don't get my five minutes…hang on, I'll get ignited.

Mega Man: If you don't have the fire, we don't have to fight…

Heat Man: And get roasted by Dr. Wily for ignoring orders? How stupid do you think I am?

(VS. WOODMAN)

--WARNING!--

[The trees and their leaves above shake vigorously. Wood Man falls to the ground in a crouch, with a resonant rumble.]

Wood Man: The air, trees, water, animals, all innocent, all ruined…what kind of hero are you, man?

Mega Man: I…I didn't want to, but if I don't weed you out of here…

Wood Man: I can forgive a lot, but messing with the natural world…you just barked up the wrong tree, little dude.

("WILY CASTLE APPEARS" CUTSCENE)

-LOADING...-

[Mega Man returns to the laboratory. The room's lights are lower. The screen is idle and no longer reflects the stage select.]

Roll: Rock! Look at this!

Dr. Light: We've finally managed to tag Dr. Wily's ship.

[The screen settles into a clouded sky. The camera zooms into it until the perspective is from the sky itself, which is tracking Dr. Wily's capsule as it moves through the growing storm.]

Mega Man: That's him, alright, but…where's he going?

[Dr. Wily flips open the lid. His irises are still red. He briefly acknowledges/teases the camera by pulling a face and waggling his eyebrows. He shuts it again, and tries to outpace the camera.]

Dr. Light: A building mysteriously appeared from underground on a South Pacific island just recently…we have reason to believe it's his base of operations...Wily Castle.

[While Dr. Light is speaking, Dr. Wily vanishes through the clouds. When the camera catches up through the fog, it focuses at the bottom of the fortress. Cue prelude. It tilts up just in time to see Dr. Wily retreating into the eye of the skull. There is a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder.]

Roll: It's under super tight guard...

[The monitor then comes back into play as the view of the fortress becomes a grid map.]

Roll: The only way in, is to break in.

[The camera pulls out and fades back in to Light Labs, where the three are standing, facing the screen.]

Roll: If you climb around the outside wall, you might be able to sneak through the air ducts.

[The three turn to face each other.]

Dr. Light: We'll be geotagging you to build a map of the area as you proceed, so you won't get lost.

Mega Man: Then, I can find Dr. Wily and figure out what's throwing me off about him...

Dr. Light: Throwing you off?

Mega Man: ...N-no, forget it, there's no time. Thank you both -- promise I won't let you down!

Roll: Give it your all, Rock! You can do this!

[The map then becomes selectable, per fortress stage.]

(VS. MECHA DRAGON)

--WARNING!--

[Mecha Dragon's body lurches bit by bit. She then roars out a blaze of flames.]

Mecha Dragon: Rrrrr...chaarrrrrrr…

Mega Man: I-I've been tailed into a corner...there's no backing out now!

Mecha Dragon: Charrr….CHHOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!

(VS. PICOPICO-KUN)

--WARNING!--

[The eyes in the walls peek before flashing various colours in quick succession.]

Picopico: FOREIGN PRESENCE IDENTIFIED. SCANNING...PLEASE STAND BY FOR CLOSING WALLS.

Mega Man: Who's talking to me...? Where are you?!

Picopico: MALICIOUS INTENT DETECTED. PLEASE WAIT...ENGAGING TERMINATION PROTOCOL.

(VS. GUTS TANK)

--WARNING!--

[Guts Tank rolls onscreen, then straightens up, punching its fists together.]

Guts Tank: I'VE...GOT...GUTS.

Mega Man: G-Guts Man? As a tank?! Where does Dr. Wily come up with these things...?

Guts Tank: I'M TAKING...YOU DOWN...WITH ME.

(VS. BOOBEAM TRAP)

--WARNING!--

[The eyes of each cannon rove about and glow until they fix on Mega Man. They then blink in unison.]

Boobeam: Mega Man is here? Mega Man is here! He is? Here! Where? There!

Mega Man: Who's controlling this room...? Can you hear me? Please, let me underground!

Boobeam: Request? Negatory! Invalid? Failed check! Fire? At will! At will? We will!

(VS. THE DR. WILY TELEPORT STATION)

*Conditions for this one being, only the first robot you encounter here is the one you have any dialogue with. The WARNING! also only shows up once.

--WARNING!--

[The robot you're rematching appears in the same manner and pose as they did when you first fought them. Their textures appear somewhat holographic.]

(VS. WILY MACHINE #2)

--WARNING!--

[The mech descends on screen with just a bit of puffing steam. Dr. Wily then drives his capsule into it, and pushes the windshield open. His irises are still red. His skin is now very slightly discoloured.]

Dr. Wily: Ack! You, are still alive?! My robots were better than that human Dr. Light's, so much stronger, and not a one of them could put a stop to you?!

Mega Man: Enough is enough, Dr. Wily! You're finished! Come out of the ship and turn yourself in!

Dr. Wily: I am "finished", am I?! We will see about that! My Wily Machine #2 is bigger and better than ever! One can only get lucky once, Mega Man! Say good-bye -- this is game over! Nu-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!

[He shuts the windshield and prepares the guns.]

(PHASE 2)

[The face of the ship breaks off, revealing Dr. Wily in the cockpit.]

Dr. Wily: RAGE!! No-no-no-no-no-no-no! Now you've gone and done it! But I am not defeated just yet!

[He improvises a temporary solution, shedding any extra broken parts. Wily Machine #2's HP refills.]

(PHASE 2 - END)

[Wily Machine #2 fully breaks down. While it does, the floor begins to rumble.]

Dr. Wily: Irritation...it appears I must rely on my true form after all...if you can break your fall, that is!

Mega Man: What? True form...?

[The floor gives way from underneath of Mega Man before Dr. Wily is seen getting away. This transitions the player directly into the secret final stage.]

(VS. DR. WILY?)

[Quietly, Dr. Wily's capsule descends. He jumps out of it and floats idle in the darkness. It spins away on autopilot without him. Roll is not heard giving a warning.]

Mega Man: What...what is this? Dr. Wily, where are we?!

Dr. Wily?: Tear down my robots, will you? Meddle with my perfect plan, will you? You have no idea WHAT YOU'RE DEALING WITH, MEGA MAN.

[Halfway through the last sentence, his body begins to transform. Mega Man takes a step back, horrified.]

Mega Man: N-no...there's no way...!

[The vast starscape fades in around them once the Alien is fully transformed.]

Alien: EVERLASTING PEACE IS NOTHING BUT A FARCE. HERE AND NOW, EARTHLING, I WILL SHOW YOU JUST HOW MUCH YOUR PRECIOUS JUSTICE IS WORTH.

(POST-ALIEN BATTLE)

[Mega Man looks around as everything begins to deteriorate.]

Mega Man: It was...just a hologram...?

[Dr. Wily is seen trying to get everything back in good working order behind his terminal. He looks quite ragged.]

Dr. Wily: Guh...uh-oh! ...Please, have mercy?

[The machine that generated the alien hologram falls at Mega Man's feet. He shoots it, causing it to explode. The projector atop the room then powers down to dormancy.]

Dr. Wily: YIPE!!!

[Dr. Wily jumps out from behind the terminal, and proceeds to bow frantically.]

Dr. Wily: M-Mega Man, please forgive me! I-I had no intentions of going any farther, really! I'll pay reparations! [Cue fanfare.] I'll even make amends with Dr. Light, alright?! You win! I give, I giiiiiiive!

(ENDING CUTSCENE)

[The camera is focused on the now black stage select screen. Light Laboratories, shrouded in darkness, is then dimly illuminated by it whirring to life. Dr. Light and Roll meet up in front of it from opposite ends of the room. Its display shows Wily Castle billowing with smoke, and returning underground.]

Dr. Light: It's over...it's all over, he's done it! Rock's defeated Dr. Wily!

Roll: Oh, thank goodness he's out safely! So, when can you get him back home?

[Dr. Light immediately gets to work trying to locate Mega Man's signal. The monitor cuts to static.]

Dr. Light: If I can get a read on him, he's...ah...

Roll: Professor? What's the matter? What's wrong with Rock, is he okay?

Dr. Light: ...This...may take a bit longer than I thought...

**[Ending cutscene will be fully animated. There's more than 30 thumbnails. Will need to be a separate post in the future.]

(POST-CREDITS STINGER *pending)

[The screen is black.]

Dr. Wily: I know all the harm I've done. You don't have to forgive me, Thomas.

[The light lifts marginally. The two doctors are silhouetted, sitting in what looks to be a detention center. Cue music: a slow, melancholy remix of Dr. Wily's final boss theme from the original Powered Up.]

Dr. Light: I wouldn't have if I didn't get a chance to see you like this. To punish a man already deep in remorse…that isn't me. I only wish I could help you build a better future.

Dr. Wily: …We could start over.

Dr. Light: What do you mean?

Dr. Wily: Let me join you again. With our strengths combined, I can do what I've always wanted: show the world the true power of robotics.

Dr. Light: If your intentions truly are honest…then working towards everlasting peace is the only way.

Dr. Wily: That's it! A peacekeeping robot! We'll build one so supermassive, no evil could ever threaten it! We could retire MegaMan's hero act for good!

Dr. Light: He has always hated fighting…but to build a guardian for the entire planet…

Dr. Wily: It would take materials beyond what's available on Earth, but that's a non-issue in our modern times! If we work together, I believe all things are possible…don't you?

Dr. Light: …I do.

Dr. Wily: I knew you'd come around. But…I can hardly do anything held captive by the state.

Dr. Light: That won't be a problem. I'll post your bail by tomorrow and hire you back at Light Laboratories ASAP. Your robots, too. For such a big project, we'll need all hands on deck, possibly another set altogether…this is going to be revolutionary. I'm proud of you, Albert, truly.

Dr. Wily: I can't thank you enough. You're making the right decision, Thomas. From now on, I promise…we won't speak anymore of war.

[The player is prompted to save once more before being returned to the company logos and opening cinematic.]

--END--

[rpvmsx]

"Alone? For Valentine's day?! Well, that's terribly sad, isn't it." Nevermind the fact that he's all alone himself, no, the way he coos his observation has an air of doting that implies this is going to be all about them.

"Well," He continues, too quickly after offering his pity for the other to even respond. "Luckily for you, my services happen to be available for the evening. Ah, companionship, that is. Or whatever else you'd like, I suppose~"

[salemlunaa]

∘ೄྀ stop waiting around ೄྀ ∘

you’re triggering a pushback

stop waiting for something that’s already happened, stop sitting on tumblr asking if you can manifest so and so or when your manifestation is coming. Stop sitting back up after ten minutes of “waiting” to induce pure consciousness (immediately no) asking why you haven’t induced the state of pure consciousness.

“but I hate the way my life is going right now, you don’t understand- i NEED to induce” “Like you don’t understand i NEED this to happen NOW”

No one is trying to play the trauma olympics when we say you’re not the only one. you’re not the only one with shitty circumstances. you’re not some special being who is exempt from the law of assumption. it’s law, shifting consciousness to a reality where you have your desires can’t just “not work for you”. You need to stand firm.

That desperation is the reason you put inducing pure consciousness on a pedestal. And when you put it on a pedestal and treat it like a god, you believe that the “I am” is the external factor that will help save you and rid of all your problems, and that pedestal is where you go wrong. When it’s not. that’s you. So stop waiting and start being

Stop waiting for symptoms, you’re doing everything right.

Stop waiting to feel something, waiting to feel something 3d when you’re supposed to have your mind off the 3d is the reason you “struggle”.

Stop waiting for it to “come to you” or some shit, you have induced pure consciousness, you have your desires because you’re a god.

Stop waiting start knowing

idc what you’re circumstances are saying, i said this already, choose to save yourself. Save yourself by knowing.

Knowing your circumstances aren’t real

Knowing you’re a god and you can do literally anything, and when bloggers say you can do the impossible we’re not being sappy or corny, there’s no such thing as impossible especially when you know your power.

Know that you WILL induce pure consciousness, stop with all this “i’ll try tonight 🥺”, “just incase i don’t “fail”-”, “i STG if i fail tonight-” there’s no trying, you WILL and there’s no if or maybe , there’s no chance or luck, probability when it comes to being a god of your reality, there is only absolutes and 100%. When you speak something into fruition it happens.

Stop waiting around for it to click, Know that you don’t need clicking of any sort, you’re doing everything right.

You have everything you could ever want and need. You have it, stop waiting for it, stop waiting for the “I am” state to come to you, you induce effortlessly and instantly like you’ve been saying in your affirmations, like you’ve been visualising. Stop waiting for your manifestation, it’s already here.

by waiting, your pushing yourself back, you have it already, no matter what circumstances show, idc idc idc, neither should you.

🪸🌺 you have it, you’ve done it, stop waiting.

also my 200th post, i love it here and i love u my babies 💞💞 and thank u for 5k followers!!! and all the love, very much appreciated 🫡

[sideeve]

⠀⠀⠀𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

alt text ✘ jjk men as lyrics from pyramids

contains ✘ fem!reader , satoru gojo , kento nanami , toji fushiguro , fingering , broke!toji , DOM!toji , cowgirl with nanami

announcement ✘ this is my 200th post on this account which is crazy because i thought i would've ditched this account by now. and a mini celebration for hitting 2.5k🥳 thank you so much. i know haven't been very active with the fan fictions and i appreciate the patience. thank you.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

" you showed up after work, i'm bathing your body

touching you in places only i know

you're wet and you're warm just like our bath water. "

the pool of warm water surrounded you and Gojo as he had you pressed up against his back. the pads of his fingers would glide up and down the meat of your thighs, beginning as chaste touches. the foaming of soap covering your breasts was enough to turn a switch in his brain, his length rising a bit.

you were in the midst of telling Gojo about your week until he interrupted you, kissing a trail up your neck before mumbling "you're so beautiful." his fingers drop down a level, meeting your inner thighs. he knew you enough to know it's not just the wet water he's feeling.

he turns your head you him, taking your lip to his as he plunges two fingers into you, taking your moan in his mouth. his unoccupied hand gently glides up to your breast, two fingers pinching and rolling around your nipple.

"so pretty." he whispers before plunging his tongue into your mouth, leaving no crevice undiscovered. he had a habit of making you melt under his touch. he was a natural at this point--he was amazing at it.

Gojo felt your walls pulsate around his digits, giving signs of your release being close. he chuckles, "not yet, baby."

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

" the way you say my name makes me feel like i'm that nigga

but i'm still unemployed. "

the headboard continuously rocked against the wall, creating mini cracks in the walls as Toji pounded himself in you. one moment you were complaining about him not having a real job, and the next, you were chanting his name like a mantra. "Toji!" you whine. the side of your face was pressed down on the mattress, your back arched, giving him more space for his cock to explore.

"that's it, baby." he groans, his head hanging low, watching as he disappears inside of you. "fuck." a hand strikes against your ass, your bottom recoiling. your body leans forward, moving away from where Toji's hips met yours.

"don't run away, girl." he chuckles. his large hands grip both sides of your hips, pulling you right back on his length. you squeal, the pleasure becoming overwhelming.

"please!" you sob. your hands reach back to push Toji off you. he takes both of your wrists and holds them into an X behind your back. now you have nowhere to run. "just fucking take it."

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

" you say it's big but you take it.

ride, cowgirl. "

the sounds of Nanami's frequent grunts and moans and your slick covering his length filled the room. you needed a sexual release and the toys just weren't doing it.

you needed your husband. your husband who would only come home at the asscrack of dawn just to restart the same routine. as they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. it also makes the body grow hornier.

the pace you rode was unbearable. he's never seen such intensity from you. he wasn't complaining either, he loved to see you on top of him. it saved him the worry of hurting.

"fuck." you bit your lip, leaning forward. your hands were pressed against his chest, propping yourself. Nanami's hands wander up your hips, helping you out a bit as he could sense that you were tired. "i missed you," you whisper, leaning down to plant a kiss on his. he moans at the contact, chasing after you as you pull away. "i'm make sure this i'll never leave you this needy."

[muzetrigger]

If I was a bit smarter, I would have saved this for my 200th post, but now it's dedicated to finding Ada in Minnesota, so I guess I can't complain too much.

Anyway, here's this project I've been working on for *checks notes* over 2 months. There’s no way to justify the effort-to-quality ratio of this. I’ve already started planning my next one. (I have problems.)

Whatever, go read Nevermore.

I’m actually surprised no one else has put Nevermore to this song. King George III as a toxic ex was my favorite part of Hamilton, and what are Lenore and Annabel if not toxic? I really wanted to use two different covers because I imagined both of them singing this to each other. And there was so much material that fit! I’ve read this webcomic over three times now?

In that many months.

This story has a deathgrip on me.

That aside, I feel like I learned a lot from making this video. Well, I better have after spending a month+ on it. Even if it’s not exactly what I envisioned, I got to play with keyframes, masking, transitions, lyric timing (do not get me started. This was the worst part), audio balancing, and aspect ratios.

The end result is still pretty basic, but at least I know my way around my programs a little better.

Credits (with links!):

Audio: “You’ll be Back” from the Hamilton Musical

Composed by Lin-Manuel Miranda

First Performed by Jonathan Groff

Cover by Chloe Breez:    • You'll Be Back (Hamilton) | Female Ve...   Cover by Anna Olivia March:    • You’ll Be Back (Hamilton)【Anna】  

Visuals:

Nevermore by Kit Trace (Writer) and Kate Flynn (Illustrator)

https://www.webtoons.com/en/supernatu...

Specifically, episodes 21, 26, 28, 38, 39, 40-44, 50, 57, 58, 60, 64-67, 77, 79, 90, 96, 97, 105

Montressor, Lenore, and Morella Chibis by @askuemki on Tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/askuemki/73879...

Editing: MuZeTrigger (Me!)

Programs used: Procreate

Paint 3D

Shotcut

[stxneflxwers]

into your heart.

⋯⁂ summary. cuddles on a snowy day bring his heart more peace than the deafening ocean depths can.

⋯⁂ a/n. short and sweet post here; so im not really worried about small grammar errors, word count, formatting, or what have you (yes, again. shhhh) i need to cuddle him !!!! you dont understand!!!!! also this is my 200th post, woo!

⋯⁂ characters. freminet. gn reader.

⋯⁂ cw. fluff for daysssss. physical affection (cuddles, a cheek kiss). minimal dialogue.

freminet.

you are the most precious gift of all in his life—sometimes he swears you are his true fantasy he's always longed for. pers is a fantastic addition, of course, but to be understood and seen—to be heard—is something he never really knew he needed. he was convinced that all he needed—wanted—was the silence of the depths.

but you surprise him in many ways.

when it snows heavily in fontaine, you'll wrap him up in a big comforter and give him fuzzy socks to slip on—no matter how much he'd like to protest, he relents. he always gives in to your soft pleas. how could he possibly reject you, anyway? you've offered him so much patience and grace all this time...

he watches you light the fireplace, the little flames growing into bigger ones on the hearth—the warm glow of the fire illuminate his face so perfectly. then, you scurry over to him and snuggle up to him under the fluffy, queen-sized comforter. he smiles a little, but still as bashful as ever, his eyes dart away from you.

you snicker and press a deep peck against his plush, freckled cheek. his face immediately blazes as hot as the fire in front of him, turning his gentle features bright red. you mutter something about him being adorable, but he disregards it...for now.

without warning, you pull him in close to you—tugging him into a "forced" cuddle session. (it's hardly forced, he enjoys every second of it regardless of the furious blush and pout on his face.)

you hum while he tentatively rests his head on your chest. he couldn't care less whether your chest was "truly" soft or hard, it's still the warmest, fluffiest pillow he could ever hope for. your hands interlock around his back, keeping him safe and snug—your thumbs rub little circles along his spine, lulling him dangerously close to a quiet, salubrious slumber.

and he wouldn't complain even if he could.

this is all he could ever ask for.

"thank you..."

[lesmissocials-fuckedup]

Les Mis socials - official 2023 ranking

Here they are - The results of the "Worst post of 2023" competition and overall an archive for the worst posts the Les Mis social media teams have cursed us with this year.

1- "Who should Marius choose ?" - January 29

That one can be crowned "Worst post of the year" by far - The musical seems to once again have misunderstood three of its most important characters, reducing them to being mere love interests and defining Eponine and Cosette's relationship by a rivalry over Marius.

2 - Cosette at Thanksgiving - November 23

The US competitor also took a very strong stand here - not only because it shows a deep misunderstanding of what the character of Cosette fundamentaly stands for, but also because it can be seen as offensive by many. Putting an abused and starved french child in front of a Thanksgiving meal, really ?

3 - Mother's day - March 19

A picture of Madame Thénardier ? For Mother's day instead of Fantine ? It's more likely than you think. Although on this one the team gets extra credit for acknowledging that Madame Thénardier is not a good mother, which shows an unusual level of understanding when it comes to their own musical.

4 - The Wimbledon post - July 15

Also known as That One Post Where Everything Is Wrong - and for sure not their best use of this promotional picture. From the tennis racket to the editing of Cosette's arms to make her look muscular, it is the proof we never needed that there should not, in fact, be a Cosette for every occasion.Not to mention they somehow messed up the colors of the French flag... not a good look for them.

5 - Christmas Eve - December 24

Just a very disappointing post all around as an adequate way to wrap up this year. On the 200th anniversary of Valjean meeting Cosette in the woods, we got a quality pun and an edited picture that we could, at the very best, consider as inappropriate - would it only be because they added snowflakes to a barricade that was build in June.

Honorable mentions for this year go to :

The Fourth of July post - that surprisingly did not make it in top 5. The US team might win the battle for "Most incorrect use of this Cosette picture" with this one - and it is made even worse by the fact they did not post anything for July 14, the national french holiday.

The World cup one - similar to the Wimbledon post in that it just gets everything wrong overall, from the awful pun to putting Cosette in front of an english flag.

Easter Cosette - not surprising, but still extremely disappointing.

Christmas Cosette - in the same way, it is the exact same post as last year and never fails to disappoint.

Any time they felt the need to put sunglasses on Cosette - which, honestly, was a lot.

A very uncanny use of emojis in every single post, that never gets less disturbing.

Overall a very good year to archive their fuck ups - but they still did not manage to beat the record set last year by the Queen's Jubilee post ! Maybe they will do even better in 2024 ?

[burningvelvet]

a post in honor of lord byron's 200th death anniversary —

the greeks were very fond of byron, who when he died in 1824 was a military commander and notable influence in their war of independence. as one of the most (if not the most) famous members of the philhellenist movement, byron used his poetic platform to try to remind people of greece's reputation as the source of western traditions in art and culture. the greeks then honored byron by decorating his coffin with a laurel wreath (below). they also erected statues for him, like this one below in athens depicting him being crowned with a laurel wreath (a symbol of greatness, especially in poetry/music [which historically overlapped]) by a female personification of greece. to this day, some statues of byron are annually wreathed in tradition, and the names byron/vyron/vyronas are still used in greece for roads, towns, and people in his honor.

"’Tis sweet to win, no matter how, one’s laurels,

By blood or ink; ’tis sweet to put an end

To strife; ’tis sometimes sweet to have our quarrels,

Particularly with a tiresome friend:

Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels;

Dear is the helpless creature we defend

Against the world; and dear the schoolboy spot

We ne’er forget, though there we are forgot.

But sweeter still than this, than these, than all,

Is first and passionate love — it stands alone,

Like Adam’s recollection of his fall;

The tree of knowledge has been pluck’d — all ’s known —

And life yields nothing further to recall

Worthy of this ambrosial sin, so shown,

No doubt in fable, as the unforgiven

Fire which Prometheus filch’d for us from heaven."

— excerpt from Lord Byron's Don Juan, Canto the First (writ 1818, pub. 1819).

"The mountains look on Marathon –

And Marathon looks on the sea;

And musing there an hour alone,

I dreamed that Greece might still be free;

For standing on the Persians' grave,

I could not deem myself a slave."

— excerpt from Lord Byron's Don Juan, Canto the Third (writ 1819, pub 1821) — this stanza is part of a section often published on its own under the title "The Isles of Greece."

"Byron was at once a romantic dreamer, who wanted life to square up to his illusions, and a satirical realist, who saw what was before him with unusual clarity and found its contradictoriness amusing. The clash between the two Byrons is nowhere more noticeable than in his last writings, done on Cephalonia and at Missolonghi during the months before his death. There we see the Greece he dreams of, and the Greece which, in different ways, destroys him."

— excerpt from Peter Cochran's "Byron's Writings in Greece, 1823-4."

"Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story;

The days of our youth are the days of our glory;

And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two and twenty

Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.

What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled?

'Tis but as a dead-flower with May-dew besprinkled.

Then away with all such from the head that is hoary!

What care I for the wreaths that can only give glory!

Oh FAME! - if I e'er took delight in thy praises,

'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases,

Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover,

She thought that I was not unworthy to love her.

There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee;

Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee;

When it sparkled o'er aught that was bright in my story,

I knew it was love, and I felt it was glory."

— Lord Byron's "Stanzas Written on the Road Between Florence and Pisa" (November, 1821). What is illustrated here, and what I try to illustrate all throughout this assortment, is Byron's conflation of love and glory, and the idea that poetry and politics are both ways to deserve and achieve — not fame, but what fame seems to promise — love.

"But 'tis not thus—and 'tis not here

Such thoughts should shake my Soul, nor now,

Where Glory decks the hero's bier,

Or binds his brow.

The Sword, the Banner, and the Field,

Glory and Greece around us see!

The Spartan borne upon his shield

Was not more free.

Awake (not Greece—she is awake!)

Awake, my Spirit! Think through whom

Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake

And then strike home!"

— excerpt from Lord Byron's "On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sxith Year" (1824).

"What are to me those honours and renown

Past or to come, a new-born people's cry

Albeit for such I could despise a crown

Of aught save Laurel, or for such could die;

I am the fool of passion, and a frown

Of thine to me is as an Adder's eye

To the poor bird whose pinion fluttering down

Wafts unto death the breast it bore so high –

Such is this maddening fascination grown –

So strong thy Magic - or so weak am I."

— although the much more popular and published "On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sxith Year" is often believed to be Byron's last poem, the above is likely Byron's actual last poem. Like the former, it wasn't solely written for Greece, but for his page Lukas Chalandritsanos who he was in unrequited love (or lust) with. It is sometimes titled "Last Words on Greece" (named so by his friend and sometimes-editor Hobhouse).

[heliads]

a minute from home - lewis x nico

Nico is doing post-race podium interviews. Lewis has made it to the podium for the first time in a while. It's always something awful when they're that close, isn't it?

masterlist

Lewis loves it when Nico holds the post-race interviews.

Secretly, secretly. At first, it felt like bragging– see how well I’m doing, even after you left? Nico is gone from this world of tire marks and helmet swaps, only able to return from the other side of a veil. White linen suit and sockless loafers, microphone in hand. How did it feel to win again? Again? To break the records? This is your 190th podium. 200th.

Isn’t it fitting? Lewis is still here. Still good. Still every bit the world champion. Nico had his already, his one-and-done. Lewis wonders if he regrets it every day. For several months, up until quite recently, in fact, Lewis had considered the same. Were it not for the fact that he still can feel the metal taste of a trophy in Abu Dhabi, can hear the chants when he wins that eighth– No, Lewis could never leave. Not really. Not yet. Not until he becomes a broken man, more broken than this, when they lock him out of the factory and refuse to let him in that car. They would have to take it from him first, and God knows they’ve already tried.

So, for Nico to leave like that, so suddenly– Lewis gets it and he doesn’t. He feels that way about a lot of his former teammate and friend and everything bar a lover, thank you for that one, Crofty, so much so that he can’t put it into words half the time.

He hadn’t needed to put it into words, though, back then. Nico had known. Same way Lewis had known it like a sickness festering in his stomach when they had started to break. He’d stopped being able to read Nico. He’d stopped being able to tell what he’d done wrong when the jokes didn’t land like they should, when they weren’t jokes at all. He knew it was over when Nico started smiling at him like he did the reporters, clenched jaw and maddened eyes.

He knew it was over when they stopped talking altogether.

And now they have– this? A few spans apart, Nico’s hair gelled but still a little wind-blown. They’re strictly professional, but when Lewis grins Nico stumbles over his words in a manner totally unbefitting one of Sky Sports’ best critics. They are light-years away from what they used to be as kids, but maybe not that far either. Lewis feels like he can see a thousand ghosts orbiting the two of them. There are hundreds of Lewis-and-Nicos hovering around, doing track walks, getting ice cream, staying up too late, screaming until their throats were sore, doing worse to make their throats sore. Hating each other. Ending it, and then coming back.

Lewis answers the post-race interview questions mostly on autopilot so he can let the rest of his mind focus on the interviewer. Nico looks good. Lewis remembers a tightness to him in the last few years, a tension in the shoulders, a manic glint in his eyes, that has gone away at some point over the past few seasons. He’s softened up a little, but not in a way that stops him from grilling the hell out of whatever team principal is unfortunate enough to cross his path while he’s interviewing for Sky Sports.

“Thanks, Lewis,” Nico says, and it’s enough to drag him back to reality. Lewis murmurs a thank-you in return, then offers the mic back over for Nico’s next victim.

He’s expecting one of the many tech assistants hovering around to grab the microphone, but instead, Nico surges forward and takes it himself. The move is too hasty, too eager, and their fingers scrape each other in the passing of the baton, nails against palms against veins thrumming below soft skin. The cameraman has decided to focus on a shot of Lando forcing himself to congratulate Oscar, thank God, so no one sees. No one but them, of course, but who would know to look anyway, or know what it meant when Lewis sucks a ragged breath in through painfully tight lungs?

Nico holds on a half second too late, then abruptly lets go again. Lewis stares at him a second longer then makes himself step away, back to the cooldown room, where he sits in vacant silence until Lando says something stupid and he snaps back on impulse.

Nico is married, he reminds himself. Nico told Lewis he was getting married just to watch him bleed out on the floor of his hotel room. But that night, he’d not left for another half hour, wanting to prove how good he was one last time.

The honest truth of the matter is, it doesn’t actually matter how good either of them is, provided it’s better than the other. Nico is better at asking the questions. Lewis is better at answering them. Different games, but somehow still the same in the end. They’d change any rule if it meant they could still be competitors. Just like how it had been when they were young– first to the hotel door and back, first to eat their food. Then, older. First to the flag. First to the hotel door again, but this time, no leaving. First to make the other beg. First to take it back.

Lewis isn’t good at taking things back, but he doesn’t like the silence after a particularly hard-hitting truth, either. The only option, then, is to leave. He supposes that makes him more like Nico than ever before. Up on the podium, he lets the younger boys drench him in sticky-sweet champagne, and by the time he stumbles off, somewhat sightless– he swears the stuff clots in the eyes more with every passing year, not that he’s had enough of it recently to be sure– Nico in his linen glory is already gone, probably back to his pretty wife and his pretty family, where he can sit and watch like usual.

Nico had always liked watching, anyway. It was easy with those big, open eyes of his. They’d grown more guarded over the years– Lewis’ fault, mostly– but they still showed enough when they were alone and it was dark and–

Enough, enough. Lewis doesn’t like how easily the memories can creep over him again. They’ll want him back in the team meeting space anyway, so the guys can discern how on earth their car was possibly good enough to make it to the podium and so George can moan about how he’d almost been there too, and it was completely someone else’s fault that he wasn’t. Still, he takes the time to glance around one more time in search of white-suited spectres before slipping through the doors of the Mercedes garage once again.

The meeting is just as stultifying as he’d expected, although he is grateful for the praise of getting the job done. Still, when he comes out to see how the sun has sunk low in the sky, he can’t think about anything but leaving, and maybe getting completely wasted closer to midnight, too. Lewis can’t imagine that anyone else would still be here except the last of the fans still digging out every sign they can take home with them and the somber teams scraping up the last data from today’s fuckups, so he’s totally surprised to turn a corner and see Nico wrapping up the last of his interviews.

Nico thanks Laura Winter and a few other nameless Sky Sports reporters before turning and, incongruously, heading Lewis’ way. Nico’s obviously out in space, but his head snaps up just before they run into each other and he says, “Oh, Lewis,” with a little less tenacity than he’d greeted him earlier that day. It’s something nonetheless.

Lewis is still genuinely surprised enough to furrow his brow and ask with no small amount of confusion, “What the hell are you still doing here? I thought you would have gotten your check and bounced the second the podium stuff was over.”

“That’s typically what you think of me, isn’t it?” Nico retorts, and Lewis realizes a bit too late that he’s come off pretty antagonistic. 

Luckily, Nico only lets him suffer a few seconds before letting out a quiet half-laugh. “As it turns out, they’ve been down a few reporters due to an outbreak of travel flu, so they needed me to fill in a place or two. Extra B-Roll.”

Lewis takes an automatic step back at the mention of any sickness. Driver’s habit. “If you get me ill, man, I’m going to ruin you.”

“Ruin me?” Nico asks. “Where’d you learn your threats, from Russell? Back in the old days, you’d just tell me you were going to run me off the road and that would be the end of it.”

Lewis snorts without meaning it. “Yeah, well, if I do that now, it’ll just be manslaughter, won’t it? Bit different without you in the car, too.”

Everything’s a bit different without Nico in the car, he means, but can’t say it. It hurts to know that this is the closest he’s gotten to being able to say that in a long time. They’ve been dodging and dancing around it for ages now, but it’s taken years for the burn of that shock announcement to fade.

Nico’s lips flex momentarily.  “We all have to move on. Maybe you should’ve too.”

Lewis hears the rebuke even if Nico doesn’t mean it and stiffens instinctively. “It’s not my fault the car’s been shit,” he says by impulse, “Everyone knows it. Sure you can tell it too with all your reporters’ data and whatnot. Don’t even know how you get half that stuff. Got George in your pocket or something?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “George Russell is not the kind I would want in my pocket.”

There’s a sort of gap, but Lewis is too testy to hear it. “And what, me? Is that why you were hanging around after, to see what sort of scoop I’d give you so you’d have an edge the next time you have to give a shock pronouncement? Or Toto?”

“Jesus, Lewis,” Nico says irritably, “One of these days, you’re going to have to stop being so paranoid. I thought you quit it when you pretended you had grown up since I left, but apparently not. Not everyone’s out to get you, you know.”

Lewis folds his arms across his chest petulantly, more upset because he knows Nico’s right than anything else. “Like you’re one to talk. You’re the one who left because of it, remember?”

“Left the car, not the people,” Nico says abruptly. “You’re the one who refused to reach out.”

“Takes two,” Lewis mumbles. “It’s been a while since either of us made that effort, hasn’t it?”

Nico hovers there in his couture loafers, and Lewis wonders what he’s thinking about. If he’s maybe weighing the odds of a perfect family versus something stupid they’ve been doing since the dawn of time.

One of Nico’s hands snakes out of the pockets of his jacket to rest on Lewis’ hip. “We’re not that different yet, are we? Or maybe I do just want the inside scoop, and you’ve been right all along.”

The last part is bitter. It’s more like what Lewis remembers anyway, so he warms to it instinctively. “That’s alright. I’m sure you would have been a shit spy if it wasn’t in German, anyway.”

Nico rolls his eyes on instinct, but laughs a little anyway. Quiet, in the onrush of the late afternoon. “You just couldn’t be bothered to pick up any languages.”

“I knew a bit of many,” Lewis argues, “Just not words I wanted to say in front of people.”

This time, Nico cracks a full grin. “Bullshit. I’ve heard you say some heinous things in English.”

The corners of Lewis’ mouth keep turning up before he can stop them. “Go finish your reporting before I say something really heinous.”

Nico’s eyes spark like he wants to hear just what that might be, but he does as told and shuffles off. Right before he goes, there’s this slight weight distribution in Lewis’ pocket, as if Nico has slipped something inside.

“I’m in the same building as you,” Nico adds as he starts to walk away. “If you really feel like reminiscing.”

Lewis shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t. He gets delayed talking to various groups around the paddock anyway, and it’s a while later until he can start heading back to his hotel and think about Nico’s last words once more. He should go get his stuff together. He should call his mom. He should do a lot, actually, but he doesn’t.

Lewis pauses in front of the door. He’d known what was slipped into his pocket without even bothering to look, and he pulls it out now. The key card glints in the low light of the hotel corridor. He wonders if they make the lights that dim on purpose, so you have no choice but to lean close to someone else, or make your way inside the door that isn’t yours. It’s about making it easier to take the easy way out. To pretend it’s someone else’s fault that you’re here, and caving again, like you said you wouldn’t all the times before.

Lewis still has a choice. Nothing is keeping him here. If he goes, Nico will be the scorned one. On the up and up again, Lewis has better things to do than a Rosberg, obviously. If he does this now, it’s because he wants to. No other reason.

The light flares a tantalizing, teasing green, and the lock clicks open. Lewis slips inside.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey, @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife, @supervoldejaygent

[beauty-and-passion]

TMA - Chapters 81-90: Worst is the new cool

I bet you thought I forgot about TMA, o ye of little faith.

Well, I didn’t. I just wanted to deal with smaller projects before returning to the big one. Also, real life happened and that delayed TMA even more. But now it’s here, I’m back and and I’m ready for act three.

I checked all previous comments, to remember what happened until now, so no need to waste any more time: let’s start.

<< Main Masterlist <- Previous post 

_______________________________

MAG080.4 - Season 3 Trailer

Aaaah yes, cryptic as always.

At least, we can deduce a few things:

Daisy is working on this case and she probably wants to interrogate everyone to find out where Jon is, so she can throw him in jail

Jon escaped and is hiding somewhere

Elias is still an ass

The calliope will play a role in this series - and maybe the murderous dolls too

Well, can’t wait to find out more about the new “mini-boss” of this season and the fight that will ensue. And maybe we will learn more stuff in the meantime too :D

_______________________________

MAG 81 - A Guest For Mister Spider

Let’s recap:

The dark entities also known as “supernatural shits” have the wonderful tendency of “claiming” humans. And the Eye claimed Jon. Geee, I wonder why: maybe it’s because he kept feeding it by recording statements all day?

The Spider’s actual name is the Web! Cool, love it.

The Web tried to claim Jon when he was a child and he escaped, only thanks to a bully who was tormenting him. Moral of the story: keep your bullies around and, as soon as you get the chance, feed them to some supernatural shit. Good lesson, I would’ve probably done the same. 

Will we ever find out the bully’s name? Was he the umpteenth Michael? In my mind, yes. He’s just another Michael.

I feel I can relate a bit with Jon’s grandma, picking up books without questioning what was age-appropriate or not. I did the same, when I was a child: I was too young to buy books by myself, and my parents didn’t have enough money to buy me all the books I wanted. So when I didn’t want to re-read the same books for the 200th time, I searched something else to read all around the house. And that’s how I ended up reading:

Harmony novels with a ton of sex and duels

The Late Mattia Pascal (still one of my favorites books)

L.A. Confidential

Edgar Allan Poe’s anthology

Dracula

The complete collection of Andersen’s tales

The Old Man and the Sea (still don’t like it)

Were they age-appropriate for a child? Probably not. But if a book is truly good, even a child can understand it. And I understood it. That’s why some of them are still in my library today, while all the teen books I read back then have been sold years ago.

Oh, who’s Georgie now? Jon’s sister? Friend? Fiancee? Bestie? Or did she introduce herself before and I forgot it?

_______________________________

MAG 82 - The Eyewitnesses

There are a few things to say about this statement:

First: Martin is in love with Jon - at least a tiny bit. I mean:

Come on, Martin, tell us: you write in your diary J+M inside a heart all the time, don’t you?

Second: Tim is 200% done and all I want for my poor boy is to find a way to leave this place on his legs. But considering everyone leaves this place dead, I’m very scared for Tim.

Third (and I can’t believe I’m saying it): Elias is cool. He’s still the biggest motherfucker in the universe, but… the way he threatened Daisy. The way he used his Eye-powers. The way he goes “Sure, I know where Jon is, but I won’t tell you, because I have more than enough to make your life a living hell”.

He’s a madman and I should hate him, but he’s. So. Fucking. Cool.

I think I stan him - just a little bit. I still hate him for killing Leitner, but he’s an insane bitch and I stan insane bitches.

_______________________________

MAG 83 - Drawing a Blank

Elias, you insane fucker: it was you who put this statement into Jon’s letterbox, wasn’t it?

I 100% believe it’s him, it can only be him. He’s trying to warn Jon. About what? Well, considering we’re starting a new season and we already had a small anticipation about clown dolls in the trailer, I suppose that the final boss of this season will be the murderous clown doll and its friends.

And yes, I know it’s insane that Jon is still recording statements, but I’m quite sure that’s the Eye messing with him and “forcing” him to read these things. Also, they’re the only way he can find out more about the Stranger and this whole thing - and you know, I’m very curious about this Stranger. Will it be the final boss of season 5?

(My bad, so Breekon & Hope deliveries are not evil shadowy things, but they’re probably evil clowny dolls. Or maybe they’re just two supernatural shits that love to work with these other fuckers.)

_______________________________

MAG 84 - Possessive

Oh, Martin’s voice! Now what, is he getting trained to become the new Head Archivist? And who did it? I doubt it was Elias, since the motherfucker believes Jon will come back - and he will probably find a way to make it happen.

Speaking of the statement itself, it’s weird and creepy, but I’m not sure which specific supernatural shit is it about. I thought it was the meat for a second, then that it was about the Hive. But then, the mention of insects… idk, maybe it was just a random supernatural shit?

Since we’re talking about these statements, I love how the people involved always see the creepiest shit and then keep going with their plans. Adrian literally saw a cardboard mask of his friend’s face buried in the ground and, instead of running away and disappearing forever, he kept going.

And what he saw was… the only way I can describe it, is the same way I imagined it, so: “weird spa session with cardboard, insects and fluids”. Here, that’s it.

Melanie is back from India! And she got shot, but she’s still alive, thankfully.

And then… fucking Elias appears.

He introduces himself to Melanie, by saying that “he runs the Institute”. We all know it’s not true, Elias: you sat on your lazy ass for two entire seasons and only now you’re actually doing something.

So, what does he do, to prove he’s actually working? He hires Melanie. Just like that. And just because she had a YouTube channel about the supernatural.

Elias is the best boss ever: he picks the first rando he sees around who has a minimum of knowledge about the supernatural and hires them on the spot. But, as he said to Martin:

Which can also be translated as: "Don’t worry, Martin, I know you lied on your CV because I am a supernatural shit. Also, yes, I know Jon will come back. Have I made it clear enough I am a supernatural shit?"

Elias aside, I cannot believe my naive hope was fulfilled. I mean, I asked for Melanie and Jon to have a mentor/protegè kind of relationship. But I also clarified that I didn’t want her to be in danger! Melanie does not deserve any shit, so I really, really hope she will be alright.

_______________________________

MAG 85 - Upon the Stair

Oooh, another trippy statement! Those are my favorites, hands down. I love the constant switch between being/not being, walking up the stairs and not walking but moving faster. The man who doesn’t exist, but exists. And the part about the parents asking their own son where he is, his father walking up the stairs and dying on his chair, the mother with the bloodied napkin, how they both get up and leave… that’s so insane, I love it!

But instead of just sitting back and appreciating the nonsense like me, Jon is trying to understand. Is this statement about Michael? The Spiral idea seems to work, but I thought Michael was more expert in corridors, rather than stairs. And yes, the “Nowhere Man” isn’t a Michael thing. It reminds me of the book Leitner used to hide himself, A Disappearance: maybe this is another supernatural shit.

LISTEN I WAS JUST GUESSING, WHY ARE MY GUESSES BECOMING REAL.

So I was right, when I said that these supernatural shit are searching for hosts and replacing the humans - a bit like the Dark tried to do with the child on MAG 73.

When the supernatural entities become the host, the humans change. This proves even more that Elias is the Eye’s host, because he went from stoner to baddest bitch of all the land.

I was right about Jon too, when I said he was connecting too much with the Eye and was too obsessed with these statements.

Now that I think about the Eye and remember MAG 73… if Elias is the Eye, then why is the Eye connecting with Jon too? Just to make him a minion? Or to replace Elias? But why replace Elias, when he’s clearly showing he’s the boss of all bitches? Mmmmh, maybe the Eye just needs an additional pair of eyes and it likes Jon’s very much.

Okay, so Georgie isn’t Jon’s fiancee, nor his sister, but a friend. And she knows Melanie! I’m pretty sure Melanie will tell her about the new job she got randomly and how weird her co-workers are, from the big guy who is longing for his old boss, to the hot one who is 200% done with everything, to the head of the place who is a huge bitch.

_______________________________

MAG 86 - Tucked In

“Tim Stoker. Archival assistant... Archival prisoner at the Magnus Institute.”

I’ve never seen a man more done than Tim. He literally can’t take it anymore. I’m scared to see the moment when he will finally snap and either kill everyone and/or himself.

My poor Melanie, of course thinks her co-workers are weird: she doesn’t know all the shit they went through.

The statement itself is fine. Again, I am not really sure what supernatural shit is it about, but I suppose it’s an “appendix” of the Dark or similar. Anyway, I really like how it plays on the universally known idea that hiding under your blanket means the monsters can’t touch you. Just like planned, the monster cannot touch Benjamin either, he’s safe. And then, the twist: “The blanket never did anything.”. The monster was just playing with him. Super creepy, super scary, loved it.

My dear Melanie, I love how lost she is. She’s literally this, all the time:

She just got hired and her coworkers are done, there is creepy shit everywhere, she’s left recording statements by herself and doesn’t know where to start. She needs to be protected at all costs <3

A Melanie-Jon cooperation! Yes! He will tell her everything! And she will help him! I’m very hyped about this, can’t wait to see what it will lead to!

_______________________________

MAG 87 - The Uncanny Valley

Considering this is another statement centered around puppets (in this case, puppets cutting human heads - to take out the faces, I suppose), it seems like puppets are not just the mini-boss of this season, but a kinda important piece of the Unknowing.

I was right when I said the Unknowing is an event! Not!Sasha talked about it as if it was another name for the Stranger but no, it’s really an event that should happen and the Stranger is involved! And, according to Gertrude, there’s not just them, but also creepy puppets dancing while wearing human faces. Lovely.

Speaking of Gertrude, how can she know that Jude Perry, Agnes and all the Fire Gang are members of The Lightless Flame, if Jon made up that name?

It’s because of time shenanigans Attack on Titan style

TMA’s author made a teeny tiny mistake

I missed something or misunderstood it

If it’s the time shenanigans, I’m gonna scream.

Still about Gertrude, there is this sentence I’m trying to better understand:

“It interests me that Jude Perry would be involved. I was unaware that The Lightless Flame had had any contact with the Stranger’s ilk, but I suppose it makes sense that it would be a possible ally to the Devastation, especially since their own plans have so recently, erm, gone up in flames.”

So… who is the Devastation? Is it the Lightless Flame? Are they the same thing? If that’s so, then I suppose that the Stranger’s gang includes:

Creepy puppets/clowns

The Dark and its Not-Things

The Devastation and its Lightless Flame cult

Orsinov and the Circus of the Other

Also, there’s the weird mention about skin. What does Jon mean? I thought Orsinov/puppets and everyone else were searching for human skin to wear. Did I get it wrong? Did Gertrude mean something else?

_______________________________

MAG 88 - Dig

Hello, umpteenth Leitner book. Of what kind of supernatural shit are you the essence? The Dig?

I really like how we can follow the escalation of the book’s influence on Mr. MacMillan:

First, we see him reading four pages. Not the entire book, just four. And yet, they were enough for him to take the book and become obsessed with digging. And we know it, thanks to two small details:

when the police arrive, he already dug the body

when he leaves he thinks the police are angry at him, because he “had robbed them of their opportunity to dig.”

That’s GREAT show don’t tell, loved it so so much.

And the more the statement progresses, the more we see how this need grows (i.e. the weird dreams about digging) and how unhinged it becomes. Until we reach that small gem that is:

“A bookseller I asked about it pointed me towards you and yours, before I dug into him, and so here I came.”

I ADORE when creepy shit is thrown like that, almost without care. It’s more effective than a big preparation, it takes you by surprise and it’s a lot more chilling. Love it.

My boy Martin. The passive-aggressiveness is strong in this man. I mean:

when Basira asks him about Daisy, he protests because everyone sees him as the doorman of the Institute

when Basira makes a teeny tiny compliment to Jon, he immediately panics and fears she loves him

when she explains that no, she doesn’t love him, she just thinks he’s nice and funny, Martin replies that oh don’t worry, Daisy will find him and you will have your chance to hear all of these jokes he makes that I can’t hear… oh, sorry, I forgot you’re not working with the police anymore. Bitch.

Yes, he probably thought “Bitch” too. Let’s not forget this is the guy who found a way to kill worms with a corkscrew. He’s like the meme:

Also: what does Martin mean, when he says “I don’t actually think he...”? He what? Is he implying Jon is gay? Oh my gosh, these two will end up together. And if they won’t, they will have the weirdest, strongest sexual tension ever. I can feel it.

_______________________________

MAG 89 - Twice as Bright

We can easily rename this episode: “Jon gets dissed by Jude and it burns. Pun intended”.

Just like every woman in this series, Jude also woke up and chose violence. In this case, her violence means “Let’s set stuff on fire”. In the span of one episode, she:

repeatedly tells Jon he’s an idiot

repeatedly threatens Jon to burn him

in the end, she manages to burn him because she’s offended she told him her story

dissed the Eye, by saying “It does nothing aside from knowing stuff, like any introvert who loves to read” So basically like me

disses the Eye’s choice, by saying Jon has been a shitty one

Speaking of the Eye, when Jude told Jon it “watches and knows, sitting bulbous and comfortable in the ignorance of infinite knowledge”, it made me think of Azathoth blaspheming and bubbling on its “throne at the center of all infinity”. Maybe it’s because they both have eyes, maybe it’s because they’re both eldritch creatures, maybe because they’re both gods. No idea, but the vibes are immaculate.

So, while the Eye simply likes to watch, the Desolation burns everything. Basically a peeping Tom and a pyromaniac. Great.

Jude is keeping Jon alive, just to do a favor to Elias? See, see that this man is involved with the Eye? See that I’m right, when I say that he’s the Eye or whatever? People involved with other gods know him, that’s just another proof he’s a servant (if not part) of the Eye.

Also consider: Jude said the Eye does nothing, just sits on its godly, eldritch ass. And who else sits on his own bitchy, killer ass 24/7?

Jude tells us something very interesting about the different levels of “connection” with the god:

You can work for it and still be human, while doing job that will please it

You can “complete your transformation” aka kill yourself and become a monster - but also closer to your god

And since she chose the second route, she suggests Jon to do the same. “Feed it, fearlessly and without hesitation, or it will feed on you.”: Great piece of advice, I’m not scared for Jon’s life now, nope nope.

He doesn’t know how to feed it? Listen Jon, I’m not an expert in supernatural shits either, but I suggest to keep doing what you did until now: if Mr. Eye likes knowing stuff, give it more stuff. if you keep feeding it statements, that should keep it quiet, right? Right?

Jude gave us another Michael! Of course! We didn’t have enough Michaels!

Oh my bad, this one is a Michael we already got: Michael Crew. The Vast or whatever! And he hangs out with the Fairchilds! Make sense: if Simon Fairchild is the Grandfather of the Vast, of course he hangs out with his grandson.

Does that mean we will see him again? This weird old guy who loves to wake up and choose violence? And will we meet Michael the 2nd? I hope we will see them soon.

_______________________________

MAG 90 - Body Builder

We can rename this statement too and we can rename it “Tim is trying really really hard to get fired”.

He literally took a flight and went to Malaysia. He listened to me and ran away. For once, someone in a series listen to me and run. And yet, Tim got so sick, he had to come back.

Fuck you, Elias, I know it’s your fault.

But hey: Elias might be a bitch, but he’s also a kind, understanding boss. And he accepts that a worker takes a goddamn flight to run away and came back only because he was sick. It happens every time, right? “Idiosyncrasies”, he calls them.

… look, just kill Tim and end his suffering. He cannot leave, hates the place, hates everyone, is very depressed. Let him rest, please. He doesn’t deserve all of this.

And while Tim grows a flashing sign on his forehead that says “DEAD”, Martin keeps being ignored. Poor Martin, at least when Jon treated him like shit, he acknowledged his existence. Now everyone ignores him.

Speaking of the statement, Jared is back again! This time, he’s running a gym, in which he can… turn people into the bodies they want, with a little “cut and sew”? After all, why have a head, when you can have a big smile on your torso?

Lovely place, seems fun, sorry if I can’t come but I left a pot on the stove and must go.

_______________________________

In conclusion

Phew, a lot of things happened here! Jon is doing his own research among the supernatural shits, Elias is doing something for once in his life and he’s showing all the coolness (and the bitchness) he hid until now, Martin is the Institute’s new doorman, Melanie still has no idea of how deep the shit she’s in is and Tim is trying his best to get fired or die in the process.

Also, the Eye is apparently just a chill god that likes to watch stuff, while the Stranger and its acolytes are getting ready for the Unknowing. Will the Stranger be the final boss of the series? Or will we just get rid of its creepy puppets and call it a day? No idea, but I’m thrilled to find out what will happen.

For now, a conversation with Michael Crew has been promised, so I can’t wait to read that and find out more. So… let’s see each other very soon, I suppose <3

-> Next post

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

📌TAGLIST: @mudpuddlenl @allmycrushesaredead @aquatedia @whatishappeningrightnow @effortiswhatmatters @bella-in-a-bag @doydoune @forever-third-wheeling @payte @hypnossanders @idontreallyknow24   @imcrushedbyarainbowoffical @patton-cake-and-crofters​  @hereissananxiousmess @purplebronzeandblue​ @cynicalandsarcastic​ @lost-in-thought-20 @andtheyreonfire @riseofthewerewolf @rosesandlove44 ​​@arya-skywalker @csi-baker-street-babes @reesiereads @dracayd-universe @starlightnyx​ @stubbornness-and-spite @averykedavra @joyrose-fandomer @mihaela-tbg @igonnatalknothing @thatoneloudowl @grayson-22 @softangryfuckingdepressed @theotherella @nevenastark @coldbookworm @boopypastaissalty @varthandiveturinn @roses-bubbles @cuter-on-the-inside @snixxxsmythe @charmingcritter @analogical-mess @emphasis-on-the-oopsie @selfdestructivecat @yangwalkerao3 @the3rddenialis

[matrixbearer2024]

Suffering

Are you really even living? Or simply surviving doctor? When had immortality turned from a blessing into a curse? More importantly, did you really even care? Or did you only care because you're now all alone?

AKA; Ford internalizing now that he's alone and invulnerable to the sands of time. The same can't be totally said for his mental state though. After all, he's only human.

Songfic based on "Suffering" by Amelie Farren written for my Time Lord Twins AU!

I'm very delulu for my AU- so have a sneak peek into Doc's future with this song fic I wrote. I have three distinct moments for Stanford as the Doctor in my timelord twins AU:

the Doctor that neglects — when he was young and was only a Doctor thanks to his PhDs

the Doctor that regrets — present, where I normally create content for him and where his blog and RP are currently situated

the Doctor that forgets — the far flung future where he outlives everybody and completely embraces being a time lord

I'll be tagging these posts accordingly, but I'd love to talk about his lore much more if you guys are interested!

The sun had long dipped below the edge of the cosmos, surrendering to the sea of stars that now spilled across the boundless sky. Within the TARDIS, Stanford stood against the vast backdrop of that eternal night, the hum of the ship's machinery a constant, soothing drone beneath the cacophony of his thoughts. The silver pill case in his hand reflected the light of a nearby console, gleaming with a sterile brightness that made his skin crawl. He turned it over between his fingers, contemplating the small white tablets that represented his fragile tether to equilibrium.

  I've thrown aside my worries, but the cares they bite me back. I'm taking twenty vitamins a day, for the iron I lack.

  Stanford grimaced, the corners of his lips pulling downward as the familiar bitterness welled up in his throat. He tilted his head back and swallowed the pills dry, feeling them scrape down his throat as if rebelling against their purpose. Sustenance without substance, that was his life now. He no longer needed food to keep going, no longer needed the simple pleasures of living— he only indulged when he could remember to, when the aching loneliness hadn’t numbed his senses entirely.

  I don't need food I don't need sleep, don't tell me that I'm wrong! I don't know what I'm doing— But can you please just play along?

  The first decade had clawed at him with relentless, gnawing grief. Each year afterward seemed to find a new way to hollow him out, chiseling deeper into the marrow of his being until there was nothing left but the echo of old anguish. He would lie awake in the captain’s chair or pace the TARDIS halls, every footfall a metronome counting out regrets. Days would bleed into each other, a palette of shadows smearing over any sense of time. He’d stopped counting birthdays after the 200th, the last one he’d shared with Stanley.

  Why count when the numbers stretched toward an infinity he wanted nothing to do with?

  My head is made of flowers, and my body made of steel. Cause I can't think— Can't hear— can't feel!

  Stanford’s fingers flexed, muscles tightening and releasing as if testing the reality of their presence. The memories surged forward like a wave, unstoppable and suffocating— hands covered in grime and ash, eyes stinging from the smoke that rose like specters around him, the taste of iron sharp on his tongue. He had touched the stars, commanded them, until they burned him to cinders. His mind was an overgrown thicket now, vines of regret and bitterness weaving through every synapse, thorned reminders of a past he could neither escape nor amend.

  When he closed his eyes, he could see them— faces etched into the void, voices calling out in anguish as they fell. Each step, each choice, stained his path with crimson guilt. He felt like a monument to grief, immovable and ever-decaying.

  They say a picture's worth a thousand words, but I disagree. I can't imagine anything Cause I can't see!

  The doctor let out a breath that shuddered its way past his chest, eyes straying to the holographic stars projected across the TARDIS library. What he once chased with fervor and ambition had turned into an unyielding prison. The titles of “healer” and “teacher”, which once filled him with pride, now felt like weights dragging him deeper into the abyss. What good was saving worlds when he couldn’t save his own heart from splintering?

  I won't break the ice though what else Is there to do? Cause suffering in silence is better—

  He could scream, tear at the walls and curse the very fabric of the universe, but he didn’t. The tears had dried up centuries ago, leaving him a stoic effigy among the whirring consoles and glowing monitors. The charade was familiar— a smile that never reached his eyes, words measured and wrapped in carefully crafted ease. He was an actor in the greatest tragedy ever told, where the curtains never fell.

  Than suffering with you.

  The doctor’s gaze dropped to the leather-bound journal resting on the armrest of his chair, untouched for days. The pages within held maps of stars, sketches of constellations, and annotations written with a frantic hand, desperate to capture even a fragment of meaning. The room around him felt cavernous, echoing with memories of Dipper’s quick wit and Mabel’s bright laughter. He could almost hear them, almost see their shadows darting between bookshelves.

  But it was only him, just him, marooned in this endless stretch of time.

  So I jumped out with a parachute, but the ground caught me off guard. Karma for the rules I break, the ones I disregard.

  The temptation to go back, to step through rifts that bent reality and visit those moments, was irresistible. He’d done it before, left the TARDIS hidden among the trees and traced the familiar paths of Gravity Falls with trembling steps. His heart would clench as he watched past versions of himself and his twin squabble over nonsense, the cheery voices of his grand niece and nephew not long to join. Their voices carrying over the wind with the kind of ease that only came before everything shattered.

  I can feel the tension rising. What fate is worse than this? Stuck between the ones I love—

  He’d watch them, hidden in the shadows of his own memories, a ghost to a life he once lived. Cosmic rules be damned. He’d listen to the echoes of their laughter until it felt like it would break him, that painful, beautiful sound that underscored just how far he’d fallen. But even then, he would not dare approach, would not dare alter a single second.

  And the ones I miss.

  Stanford’s eyes shifted to the flickering flames of the library’s fireplace, its light casting restless, dancing shadows across the room. The orange glow did little to warm the chill embedded in his bones. How many Fords, across how many dimensions, would have craved this? A sanctuary lined with knowledge and power, the respect of entire galaxies balanced on a single whispered name— ‘Doctor.’ And yet, it was all as hollow as the space between the stars.

  My head is made of shrubbery, and my body made of stone. Cause I can't for the life of me— reap what I have sown!

  He tightened his hold on the armrest, the leather creaking under his grip. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It never should have come to this— sailing across time, trapped in a machine that hummed with its own form of loneliness, while he wore a mask that no one ever questioned. It felt like being both the sculptor and the statue, shaping and trapped by the life he’d carved out.

  They say a picture's worth a thousand words, but I disagree. I can't imagine anything, 'cause I can't see!

  The weight of immortality, once so alluring, now coiled around him like iron shackles. What did it matter if entire legions paused at the utterance of his name? What did it matter if beings far beyond human comprehension flinched at the sight of him? It meant nothing without the echoes of laughter, without the warmth of shared stories and the unspoken understanding of his family’s presence beside him.

  I won't break the ice though what else Is there to do? 'Cause suffering in silence is better—

  He filled the silence with companions, short-lived stars that burned bright and fizzled out too quickly. They were there, and then they weren’t. Time was relentless, wearing them down to memories while he stood unchanged. Each one chipped away at him, left him a little more hollow. His only true constant was Stanley, and even he didn’t know the full story. Ford wouldn’t let him, couldn’t let him see that far into the dark.

  Than suffering with you.

  The TARDIS thrummed, a soft, sympathetic sound that vibrated through his bones as if it, too, mourned the lives they’d shared and lost. Ford exhaled, the heaviness in his chest pressing down like a stone. He could carry this, he would carry this— because if there was one thing he’d learned in all these centuries, it was that some battles are never meant to be shared. Some wars are fought in silence, against an enemy that wore your face in the mirror.

  And if the burden grew too heavy, well— he was the Doctor. He would bear it alone.

  He had to.

  I try to sink and never float.

  Some days, the weight was manageable, a familiar companion that settled over him like a well-worn cloak. But tonight, the burden felt insurmountable, pressing against his chest until each breath tasted sharp, like the metallic tang of blood from battles fought too long ago to matter and yet too vivid to forget.

  Stanford’s eyes turned to the viewport, where the stars blinked back at him with their indifferent light. Once, those points of light had been symbols of promise, of adventure and uncharted paths. Now they were cold eyes watching as he drifted— an eternal voyager, bound by his own choices and the mistakes that clung to him like barnacles on a shipwreck.

  Cause my head is underwater.

  The doctor’s fingers found the edge of his sleeve, gripping it tight as though it could anchor him. The silence roared in his ears, the kind that made old wounds ache with the sharpness of fresh cuts. Memories of splintered wood and that familiar bite of ozone filled his senses. The frantic fight, the blinding light, the hole that had torn through his chest— a wound that should have marked the end. He let out a shuddering breath, feeling phantom pain coil around him like a serpent.

  I’m here by choice by my own hand.

  The most damning part was knowing that every fracture, every scar, was carved by his own hand. He’d walked into the chaos willingly, driven by an insatiable need to prove something— to whom, he couldn’t even remember anymore. A need that had led him to make choices that, at best, haunted him and, at worst, had cost him everything.

  I’m a lamb sent into slaughter.

  He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling the silver strands that had once been a youthful umber. The weight in his chest grew heavier, spreading through his limbs. He remembered the moment he’d sealed his fate with a handshake and a grin, signing away pieces of himself to a demon who promised everything and gave nothing but ruin. Even now, the jeers of that one-eyed triangle haunted the corners of his vision, mocking him with every beat of his undying heart.

  I’m aware of my own body.

  Every nerve ending screamed in protest as memories flared to life. The repair box’s nanobots— an endless legion that buzzed beneath his skin— worked tirelessly, a ceaseless reminder that he wasn’t wholly his own anymore. Some days, he could almost feel them moving, an itch he could never scratch. His hands curled into fists, knuckles turning white as he resisted the impulse to claw at the sensation, to rip it out and make it stop.

  I can feel beneath my skin.

  But he didn’t. He never did. The discipline of centuries held him captive, a slave to his own stoic facade. He swallowed hard, letting the tension dissipate as much as it ever could, settling like sediment at the bottom of his soul. The fire’s light flickered over his features, casting deep shadows that made his face look carved from stone.

  I can wash away my insecurities.

  He stood abruptly, the sudden motion sending a wave of dizziness through him. The doctor steadied himself against the back of the chair, eyes closing as he drew in a breath. The act was as much a ritual as any he performed— a way to wash the fractures of his spirit, to convince himself that he was still whole. But deep down, he knew.

  But can’t wash away my sin!

  No amount of time, no act of heroism, could ever cleanse the burgundy that stained his hands. It was a truth that gnawed at him, a constant shadow that whispered during his moments of quiet. He turned toward the shelves, running a finger over the spine of a book he’d read a hundred times but never truly absorbed. Knowledge without purpose— just like him.

  They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, but I disagree! I can’t imagine anything—

  The holographic stars in the library blinked and swirled, shifting constellations that once spoke of wonder and exploration. Now, they were a cruel reminder of all the places he’d been, all the faces he’d left behind. He raised a fist, hesitated, then let it fall to his side. He couldn’t even find the anger to break the illusion.

  Cause I can’t see!

  His vision blurred, not with tears— those had dried up long ago— but with the weight of exhaustion that pressed down on him like a vice. Every accolade, every whispered praise, fell flat, their meaning washed away by the tides of time and repetition. The applause of civilizations felt no different than the hollow sound of silence.

  I won’t break the ice though what else Is there to do?

  The cold chill crept into his veins, a familiar companion that had shared his endless nights. Yet, he dared not crack the veneer he’d cultivated— that smile, that reassuring nod. It was a mask, as impenetrable as the TARDIS walls. To break it would mean shattering the delicate balance that kept him standing.

  Cause suffering in silence is better—

  Stanford’s fingers brushed against the journal again, the touch almost reverent, as if it held the answers he’d long given up searching for. The one story he couldn’t write was his own— each word caught in the tangle of what-ifs and could-have-beens that ensnared his mind.

  Than suffering with you!

  He swallowed back the ache, pushing it down to the depths where it simmered and seethed. To bear it alone was better; it was safer. The doctor would stand, resolute and silent, a guardian of time burdened by its cruelest truths.

  And as the night deepened, the stars outside continued their silent vigil, unmoved by the man who carried the weight of universes in his lonely fractured heart.

Tell me what you think about these two! I've got more drabbles in store for them aside from the content already on both their blogs @gftimelord & @gftimelordstwin! Also posted here on Ao3!

[l-epingle]

oh hungarian gp you are keeping my drama-loving ass FED

first off: oscar maiden win!! lewis 200th podium!! disregarding the whole race that's such a fun result

this is really backing up my belief that it's way more difficult to be a fan of a TEAM rather than individual drivers bc this is technically a mclaren win in the best possible way and yet they look like such fucking idiots like why would i want to root for them

what the hell was up with their strategy?? like they have no bullshit excuses for what they did with the pit stops and the team orders i genuinely don't understand what mclaren was trying to achieve here besides looking like total clowns

coming from an oscar fan i don't think lando deserved the win! oscar had an amazing start and led the race for a good portion and i think that if mclaren had done their pitstops RIGHT and hadnt tried to undercut??? for no reason?? then oscar would've continued to win the race anyway

coming from a FORMULA 1 fan who loves the competitevness of the sport i totally understand why lando would feel like this win was robbed from him. literally not his fault that mclaren are being bozos and i think if i was in his position i wouldn't have given up my place

HOWEVER as i said before i don't think lando DESERVED to win here. no driver is winning races because they DESERVE to there's ton of factors and oftentimes ppl win for no particular reason. take george's recent win bc of the verstappen-norris crash, all the wins thanks to safety car luck, you could even say charles win in monaco is simply thanks to good qualifying and the way the track is designed. so many things happen during a race that are outside of a driver's control and saying someone deserves to win a race is stupid and ruins the point of the race. like if thats what you want then who even needs to race might as well hand out trophies after qualifying or award points just on fastest lap

BRING BACK TEAM RIVALRIES!! so much love to naomi but i do not agree w pretty much anything she was saying formula 1 isnt really a team sport. the driver's championship is won by ONE driver. yes the wcc is based on team pts but i guarantee that every single driver would be totally fine if their team was in last fucking place if it meant that they won the wdc. saying that you can win a championship wo being selfish is CRAZY (especially in front of nico lmaoooo) bc you HAVE to be putting yourself first every single race if you want to win. yes your teammate is your partner but they are also your RIVAL and you are both coworkers and competitors. like so many selfish moments will be looked back on with fondness as long as you win. everyone can joke about multi-21 now bc sebastian vettel is literally a 4-time world champion and he ended up winning that year. no one cares that he was a 'selfish driver' bc he delivered results and getting hung up on being a team player in a sport like this is stupid to me

one thing lando did that DID annoy me tho was his response to lewis's compliment during cooldown like what was that??? he literally just said you were fast and you had to clapback? like lewis wasn't trying to insult lando in any way why'd he have to respond like that...

also nico he just couldn't get through the day without constantly being bombared w flashbacks huh him giving advice to andrea stella regarding TEAM ORDERS is sooooo funny to me

anyway to wrap up this post (rant) here's my fav pic of the day

brocedes reunion, messy ass team radios, return of mad max... this has been my favorite race so far and i hope the rest of the season continues in a similar manner

[keroradio]

It's our 200th post! To celebrate I'm sharing something I've been holding onto for a little while, the Italian opening

While most international dubs used a translation of Kero! To March (even Korea, who created original music for each season made the first opening recognisable as being based on the song), Italy composed an entirely new song completely different from the original to use as the opening, one that's really good

They do this with a lot of series, I recommend looking up the Italian openings for any show you're a fan of, since they have some really amazing theme songs (^.^) Either way, I hope you enjoy this unique Keroro song

[haveyoureadthismcytfic]

Summary:

The knight had come a long way: his shoes were falling apart, his shirt ripped and fraying, and the banner at his hip—white on red—belonged to no principality that the king recognised. The knight looked up and saw him watching from the top of the stairs, and they took a few abortive steps towards each other. The king said, “Have you come to kill me?” The knight blinked. His eyes were very blue. “I don’t think so.” [Once upon a time, there was a man who lived in the snow, and he was king of all the winter touched. (A fairytale take on how Ren and Martyn find each other again, post-Limited Life and HC9 king arc.)]

Author: @lorefulevil

Note from Submitter: PLEASE READ ALL OF THEIR FICS THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME THEYRE SOME OF THE BEST THINGS IVE EVER READ AND I THINK THEY DESERVE ALL THE ATTENTION IN THE WORLD

This is the 200th submitted fic on this blog! Kudos, comment, vote, and continue showing love to the authors :D

[anne-is-ominous]

Some Anne-ouncements Following Reignited Book I

In just a few moments, I'll be releasing Home, the final chapter of Phoenix Reignited Book I: Ashes. The end of a book is usually a great time to make some Anne-ouncements, and so, without further ado...

Phoenix Reignited Book II: Embers

There will be no gap between book postings for Reignited; this coming Tuesday you will see chapter one of Phoenix (re)Ignited Book II: Embers. The new book will continue in the existing work on AO3 and all the other platforms, so folks who are subscribed / following / whatever it's called on your platform of choice will continue to get alerts.

Reignited on Royal Road

We're finally ready to announce the release schedule for Royal Road! I've wanted Reignited on Royal Road for some time, but held off due to the unforgiving nature of their Rising Stars algorithm that all but requires posting chapters with a certain cadence I could not meet until I had built up some backlog.

Reignited will launch on Royal Road December 1, 2024, with ten chapters dropping on that day. It will then receive a chapter drop every day for the next thirty days, and as such, on December 31, 2024, Royal Road will "catch up" with the other platforms that have been getting updates all along. Beginning on January 2, 2025, Royal Road's Reignited release schedule will fall back to Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday alongside the other platforms.

Folks wishing to support the story's success on Royal Road can help by reading the new drops on the platform daily as they are released, and leaving advanced reviews. These things dramatically increase the story's ranking in the algorithm, especially in the early going.

A Reignited Reorganization on Wattpad

I had announced that all the platforms would get Reignited as one huge work, rather than breaking it up by book as I did with the original series on AO3 or by series as I did on Wattpad, QuoteV, Royal Road and Scribble Hub.

Unfortunately, I've learned that Wattpad has a 200-chapter maximum for a work, which means a Reignited series through book XIII would actually need three volumes to get through it. Rather than doing a Vol. 1, Vol. 2 which end at arbitrary places in the story when the 200th and 400th chapter is reached, I've decided to go ahead and just do it by series on Wattpad like I did the original. So, there will be a Phoenix Ignited: Reignited Edition, followed by a Phoenix Ascendant: Reignited Edition and Phoenix Odyssey: Reignited Edition. Sorry about the confusion.

Sunsetting Reignited on MediaMiner

I was - and remain - excited whenever I discover a new platform to expose Phoenix to, and when I found MediaMiner (which apparently came and largely went during my hiatus from the world of fandom) I immediately sought to post Phoenix there.

However, as I've now gotten through 24 chapters there, I'm noticing lots of problems. The interface is old and largely broken, leading to a convoluted solution where the only way to properly format even basic things like italics is to make a specially-formatted RTF file. It takes almost four times as long to post a chapter to MediaMiner as to any of the other 11 platforms Reignited is currently on. Additionally, all of the algorithmic things like trending lists are entirely broken; the top trending story on MediaMiner has not been updated since 2009.

These things I could have dealt with, but the dealbreaker for me is interaction notifications. When people comment on a chapter, I get no notification. There's no inbox, no emails, nothing; I have to literally click on every chapter and scroll to the bottom to see if there's comments waiting for me. I find it entirely unacceptable that people could comment on my work and not get an acknowledgement from me, and short of spending a half an hour checking, I have no way whatsoever to know if it's happened.

For this reason, I've decided to suspend posting to MediaMiner after this chapter. I'll add a "25th chapter" essentially explaining this decision and linking to the various and sundry other platforms on which Reignited will continue, and leave Book I on the platform as essentially a glorified trailer for the larger work.

I don't know if anyone is reading on MediaMiner - I have no way whatsoever to tell - and if someone is and this causes you great distress, please tell me. I'd be willing to reconsider if it's actually helping anybody to post there, but right now it seems to be all pain, and no benefit to anyone.

Book XIII progress

As I mentioned Thursday, I'm taking a brief (1-2 week) pause on Book XIII to focus on Reignited Book II and getting some "life stuff" dealt with. I have a bunch of time off from work over the next two weeks and expect to really be able to throw myself into this and make some good progress.

Open Invitation: The Storytellers' Speakeasy

As I've mentioned before, the inestimable @princesscolumbia and I have merged our fan Discord servers to create the Storytellers' Speakeasy, a community for fans and fandoms to converge. I'm shocked and pleased to report that in under two months, we've reached about 90 friends in our little group, including more than fifteen fellow Storytellers who share and collaborate on their own fanworks and original stories with us.

(Haunted Mansion voice) But, there's room for a thousand...

Whether you're a Storyteller in your own right, or just want to hang with us, see previews, beta read, kick it in a supportive community, and maybe - just maybe - hear me humiliate myself and sing Ranko's songs live on stream from time to time, we invite you to join our community.

The Speakeasy is a safe and supportive environment for all people, including and especially LGBTQIA+ folks of all stripes, and a sex-positive space. All NSFW content is separately moderated and hidden behind an opt-in role. We have active fandom discussions for Ranma 1/2, My Little Pony, Star Trek, Pokemon, Sailor Moon and several others, plus channels for gaming, writer support, trans/gender stuff, and more. We'd love to see you around the Speakeasy!

So that's it!

Thank you all so much for your time, attention and support. Reignited has been doing so much better than I could have hoped or dreamed, and it's thanks to each and every one of you.

From the bottom of my heart,