#A Journey Through Time

[too-antigonish]

Comparative Moustachery*

*Beard inclusive

Era: Early; Quality: Questionable

The Virgin Queen (2006); Wreckers Publicity (c. 2011)

2. Era: Late Early; Quality: Noticeable improvement; enjoyment possibly impaired by I-like-to-play-evil-bastards cognitive dissonance

The Last Weekend (2012)

3) Era: Officially a decade ago; Quality: Definite improvement; note different look of exact same 'tache with three different styles of hair.

Black Comedy & Miss Julie (2014)

4) Era: Series 2 of Endeavour airing; entering main Endeavour era; Quality: high; our first glimpse of this look

Publicity still for BBC Steve Wright interview (2014)

5) Era: S6 of course; Quality: It's the actual Morstache. You either hate it or love it. There's rarely an in between—although sudden, unexplained switches from the first to the second are strangely common.

Endeavour (screenshot (l.) S6E1: Pylon and photo (r.) by endeavourneverland)

6) Era: Late Endeavour era; Quality: High; first time he's used this look in an actual role

Vigil (2021)

7) Era: Era: Late Endeavour era; Quality: Questionable; but the photo on the left makes pretty much anything he may have done for the play worthwhile—and he does look adorable in the stocking cap on the right.

The Manor (2021) (Photo (l.) by Manuel Harlan; Photo (r.) by endeavourneverland)

8) Era: Technically not even here yet (unless you live in Australia or NZ...I think?); Quality: Depends highly on your POV; some find the dirty-hot-psycho look highly appealing; however, many have reached the point of finding *any* look highly appealing—as long as Evans actually appears in something. So the jury is still out.

Knowing me, I probably managed to miss something—but this, in a nutshell, is the journey so far.

Here's wishing us all many years of enjoyment to come.

[vmrenarde]

An Email Through Time

You have mail… You have mail…

The computer echoed across the room. The robotic voice flowing through the speakers sounded as though it was trapped inside of a tin can. Old hardware seemed strangely difficult to upgrade in the Age of Technology. I groaned, slamming a pillow over my face and tuning out the sound of the broken notification system. You’d think that one alert would be enough. 

Almost as if a God above watched me in spite, my alarm clock blared on my bedside table. I’d always been a strong advocate for sleeping in. Waking up at five in the morning to catch the train to work seemed to exacerbate my affliction. I grabbed my phone, silenced the alarm, and checked my social media. It was my daily routine and a comfort I had grown accustomed to. 

You have mail… You have mail…

The notifications from my computer did not stop, interrupting my routine. Slowly, I dragged myself out of bed and over to my cluttered desk. I sat down quickly, the rolling chair under me was not expecting my sudden weight and rolled away. I grabbed the corners of the desk and pulled myself back. Clicking through my computer, I looked at my new mail. Most were ads or subscriptions that I had long since forgotten about. Nothing of interest caught my eye until I saw a subject line in all caps. 

READ IMMEDIATELY 

My heart began to beat faster. The email was only a few hours old, landing in my inbox while I was deep in sleep. The email address was clear as day. The same string of letters and numbers that I had created so many years ago. I had begged my mom for weeks to let me create an email. I had wanted to play my online games, but I could never have imagined that one day this would be waiting for me.

I had heard from so many of my friends that they had all received emails from the future. I didn’t believe them, choosing to think they were being scammed by someone who wanted them to buy thousands of dollars in gift cards. But, with my email address staring back at me, I felt a pressure in my chest that I could not comprehend. 

The news had not spoken of this phenomenon yet, but in the coming years, it would wreak havoc on the world as we knew it. We would be able to communicate with our past selves. As far as I knew, my friends had only used it to warn themselves away from boys who would eventually break their hearts. At the time, it seemed silly to me. There were pros and cons I suppose. On one hand, you would save yourself the pain of a breakup, but on the other, you would be restricting yourself. You'd be limiting the deep and enriching moments you have with other people.

My heart was in my throat as my finger hovered over the mouse. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to read it. But, I knew myself. If, in the future, I had become okay with this procedure, there was a reason. Or, even more horrific, I still wasn’t on board with it in the future but had to make the difficult choice because of a catastrophe waiting to happen. 

I took a deep breath and clicked the email. 

SUBJECT: READ IMMEDIATELY 

Today, for you, it is March 15th, 2025. Do not under any circumstances go to work. 

Short and sweet. To the point. Distressingly so. 

“I have to go to work,” I spoke out loud. “What the fuck. I have to go to work!” I began to get frustrated. I can’t imagine a world where I have forgotten my constant struggle with money.

I searched through my email frantically, praying that there would be another message holding more context than “Don’t go”.  It’s honestly so typical of me to leave out pertinent information. Maybe future me knew that if I was told why I shouldn’t go, I wouldn’t think it was a big deal. I left it vague to set off this type of response in myself. 

I cursed under my breath and stared at the phone lying on my desk. I thought of the shop’s number, reciting it in my mind like a mantra. My foot bounced against the hardwood flooring and I rubbed my eyes in frustration. 

I picked up the phone and dialed the number, placing the phone on speaker and laying it back down on my desk. My manager, Meghan, answered in a somber tone. 

“I can’t come in today.” 

“What? Eileen, come on. You’re the third person to call out this morning. If one more person calls out I’ll have to close the shop for the day.” 

“Wait, other people are calling out?” 

“Yeah, and if you don’t come in I’m fucked.” 

“Meg…” I rubbed at my temples. “Please. I never call out. This is my first sick day in over a year.” 

I heard a deep sigh come through the speakers. “I know. You’re my best employee for a reason. Do you know why everyone is calling out?” 

“I can take a guess,” I said, running my mouse over the cryptic email. “You know, you should probably close for the day. I don’t know why. I just have a bad feeling about today.” 

I had worked with Meg for seven years. We had been the only consistencies through years of other people quitting or being fired. She deserved her spot as manager. Well, she deserved a more lucrative job, but if she had to stay in a shithole, she might as well manage it. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I got an email from the future. You know, like Dennis was talking about a few weeks ago?” 

The line went quiet for a moment, then clicking from a computer mouse. Meg gasped. 

“I just… This is impossible. I thought we always said it was bullshit.” 

“I thought it was too. What happened?” 

“I just checked my email. I got one too. Oh my god, this is so scary.” Meg took a deep breath and cleared her thoughts. “Okay, I am thoroughly terrified, so I’m going to close up the shop for today. I’ll send everyone who is here home and then I’ll send a mass text to all the employees that we will be closing for the day. That seems like a good idea. I’ll text the boss and tell him that too many people called in sick and that it is impossible to run the store with three people.” 

“Good. Wanna come over?” 

Meg laughed as she began the process of closing down the store. “I feel like we shouldn’t be in groups, what if it’s like the apocalypse or something?” 

“If it was like the apocalypse I think the news would be reporting on mass emails. Come on, we can wait it out together. I have alcohol!”

“Well, neither of us works tomorrow-“ 

“And maybe we will never have to work again!” I laughed into the microphone. This entire situation was much more than I could bear on my own. 

“Okay. Fine, give me an hour to close up and I’ll be there. You better have breakfast ready for me, I’m starving.” 

“Of course, whatever your heart desires shall be yours.” 

Meg laughed and hung up. I put my phone down and stretched my back against the chair. I allowed my head to spin for a few moments before shaking it off and heading to the living room. I cleared any garbage, refolded the throw blankets, and fluffed the pillows on the couch. Walking into the kitchen I noticed last night’s dinner plates sitting in the sink. I groaned and got to work cleaning. Once I was done, I realized how much time I had before Meg would arrive. 

I plopped onto the couch, trying to wrap my mind around the events of the morning. I could not come up with any substantial theories and it hurt my brain to think about it. When I started to make breakfast, the email was still burned into my brain. Do not under any circumstances go to work. I made large strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, and buttered toast. Do not under any circumstances go to work. I ran around the kitchen, looking for the blueberry muffin mix that I knew I had bought. Do not under any circumstances go to work. Finally, I took a deep breath and placed my hands on the counter to steady myself. I needed to relax. It was probably just a fluke or a scam. 

As I finished breakfast, Meg had arrived. She sat down at the kitchen table and filled her plate. I poured her a glass of orange juice and apologized for the lack of muffins. She rolled her eyes and ate her fill of eggs and bacon. I pecked at the food, but I was no longer hungry. My stomach was still in knots.  

Meg insisted that we have the news on in the background, in case something happened while we lounged around for most of the day. We swapped stories and gossiped about the people we knew. None of it mattered and that was exactly what we needed to take our minds off the heavy weight in our hearts.

We had ordered an early dinner before I started work on a large pitcher of margaritas. I had to make good on my promise of alcohol. Between pulses on the blender, Meg filled me in on the contents of the latest romance book she had finished. We laughed at all the protagonist's stupid decisions. 

“It was like a Hallmark movie. You have to read it.” 

I sat down with our glasses and we talked for hours. By 10:30, we were drunk and giggling like any other night. Meg was gushing over how cute Dennis was. She said that she’d love to ask him out but didn’t think that he liked her. I rolled my eyes and smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so in love. You should text him.” 

“What? Right now? No way, I could barely keep a conversation with him going right now.” 

I threw my head back with laughter. “You’re probably right. In the morning, then?” 

Meg repositioned herself on the couch, swirling her almost empty martini glass. She was quiet for a moment. 

“Here, let me get you a refill,” I said, grabbing her glass and walking into the kitchen. 

“I can’t believe we got those damn emails, it’s like-“ She cut herself off, I turned to look at her. She was staring at the TV, the look on her face sobered me. “Turn the volume up. Come here, turn the volume up!” She was frantically looking for the remote. I rushed back in, swiping it off the armchair and raising the volume. 

A lone reporter stood in the center of the city, our storefront in the background of the broadcast. The street was desolate, an unsettling sight. The area had a lively nightlife. There were many bars within half a mile of that spot and a slew of businesses that stayed open late to accommodate the heavy, drunk, foot traffic. Seeing it empty left a pit in my stomach. 

“…After nearly twelve hours, police still have no clue what has happened in the city. Unfortunately, there are no witnesses. The area has been almost abandoned. Families are saying that their loved ones came into the city this morning to go to work. At some point, around 11 am, they stopped responding to texts or calls. Nobody has heard from them since.” 

Meg had a hand over her mouth, muffling any gasps she would accidentally release. My head felt like it was spinning again. I checked my phone. I was bombarded by texts and calls but my fingers shook too much to respond to any. Twelve hours had passed since these people had gone missing. I felt my breathing become faster and my heartbeat grew louder. 

“…We are unsure of what this means, where these people have gone, or if they will come back. The police have put a lockdown on the area. Once we have wrapped here, not a single soul is allowed in or out of the area.” 

“We would have been there,” Meg said, stating the obvious thought that floated through the room. 

“And if we were there, we would have disappeared.” 

“So, if we disappeared, how could we have emailed ourselves?” 

Meg and I looked at each other for a long moment before reverting our attention to the screen. 

You’ve got mail… You’ve got mail…

Meg and I jumped out of our skin, the notification seemed like thunder in a world that was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. 

“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head and getting up to check my email. As I entered my bedroom, I looked out the window onto the open street below. Nobody was walking and there weren’t any cars driving, but all the apartments were lit up with people flitting around inside. Everyone was too terrified to leave their homes. 

“Nobody is outside,” I called to Meg, hoping to share in the unease. I shook the computer mouse, bringing my computer screen back to life. The newest email made my heart leap again. I couldn’t take much more of this. 

SUBJECT: THANK YOU

I can’t begin to explain how grateful I am. I’m not sure how time will flow moving forward, but you stopped us from, technically, enduring the worst experience of our life. I do not know what happens from here but thank you for saving us. 

The message was still so cryptic. What did I save us from? How would this change events in the future? Will I remember an event I didn’t experience? Well, technically, I guess I did experience it, but this current form of myself didn’t. I began to feel nauseous. Margaritas didn’t seem to go well with changing the course of the future.

I stood from my desk and walked slowly back to the living room. Meg was staring at her phone screen, tears pouring down her face. She looked up at me, holding her phone in my direction. I took it gingerly and read the email that was brightly displayed on her screen. 

It was the same.

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[achromaticsremixture]

shattered flames

every step breaks the prewritten narrative of your story for me and with every crack, i spiral, further and further into lucifer’s domain, away from your seraphic mansion the angels say, you don’t belong, freak and i believe, that i,  am no longer human. 

encased in the ice of time is me to change and to grow; to be human is what you do  frozen as i am, can you call me a true member of this rat race?  defined by my past; imprisoned by my future so tell me, honestly,  am i qualified for humanity? 

flames lick at the heels of my shoes and iridescent flickers eat away at the glass that forms, at the glass that flies away, at the simplest touch, and  transfixed, at the sight, i  am amazed? 

crystallisation is a beautiful sight, and  i appreciate every single part of it and your words form memories, of times long lost, and  i can’t help but let tears fall

and all at once, the flames turn to glass blue and pink swirling idly in a mosaic of laughter wind chimes ringing over wood smelling of cedar phrases fly by, and quotes that hold value shape me, and for once, i feel that i  deserve to be human. 

[technically-human]

Bisexual crisis Crystal edition

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

With the end of season two comes a second redraw!

[Nov 2022] [June 2023] [June 2024]

[anxiousapplepie]

AIGHT! First batch of concept vibes for the Siffrin!Housemaiden AU, lets go people!! If you want the messy and very stream-of-conscious lore details, look under the cut! keep reading!

K. SO! Siffrin becoming a housemaiden was not a straight line, nor was it a road paved with good intentions and desires to change. It was mostly accidental, tripping into one House of Change after another, bumbling around and being a silly kid with a big hat and a bigger hole were their memory should be, until they wound up at Dormont's House of Change a few years after they forgot everything! Cue the Head Housemaiden taking one look at that adorable sap and deciding he sparked joy, for reasons mysterious to everybody who wasn't in the know. (which was basically everybody, including herself) Mira and Sif first met in a classroom setting. And they were sparring partners whenever Mirabelle took fighting or Craft classes at the House. To say they were friends is a bit of an overstatement, but if you can tease and annoy someone and they still choose to spend time with you, Siffrin assumed it meant something special! Mirabelle assumed it meant something was wrong with him, or her, or maybe both of them at the same time, but when Siffrin was the only person to escape the House when the King attacked she of course grabbed her weapon before Siffrin had even finished explaining what he was about to do. *handwaves Researcher!Isabeau and Traveler!Bonnie* I don't have time for them tonight. But they're a thing! I'll get to them later. Probably.

[ohitslen]

Living together.

The snail video if you are interested :)

[chiropteracupola]

Creamthing d'or passant reguardant, by a sheaf of arrows percée ...and Montjoy also.

[creamthing is the creation of the inimitable @samsketchbook; despite this choice of adjective, I have nonetheless tried my best at a little heraldic creamthing]

[equill]

The Warden

Panel: No escape.

Ok, now just some silly ideas to share (playing around with the au)

Comic 1: Invading dreams

Extra: no thanks.

Comic 2: Unwanted attention

[clarkgriffon]

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER 7x22 | “Chosen” 

[jazzzzzzhands]

When Clown talked about reading books to home, i knew i had to draw Wally reading my favorite childhood book to Home!!

Also Wally painted a little heart on Home like face painting! oh and take my line art because i love lineart!

[dailyloopdeloop]

loop and mirabelle. That's it that's the ask

DAY 84: enrolled in the gossip wars

[chibitorra]

Loid Forger is so fucking funny.

Like he’s this world renown spy. He’s very sharp and quick-witted. He’s able to pick a person out of a crowd by simply their gait or decode an incredibly obscure SSS conversation about some wine.

But 73 chapters into this story and he still hasn’t picked up on the fact that his daughter is a fucking telepath, or that his wife kills people on the reg.

Like, what is this man even doing lmao

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

the one you have waited for to be mated with

[a2zillustration]

Now we're putting Astarion in Situations™

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[backjustforberena]

We don't talk enough about Rhaenys's visual transformation and the symbolism behind it.