#provided i have the christmas invasion.....

[queen-scribbles]

YES YOU WERE, hands down my forever favorite Doctor <3333

[the-traveling-poet]

So Clumsy In Love

~ Valentine’s Day Special ~

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎~ As resourceful and observant as Levi is, one thing about his new life above ground still throws him for a loop; how could such a simple concept as romance be so difficult for him to understand? You made him nervous—confused and unfocused. Eventually he grows tired of fearing his own emotions, and finds the perfect excuse to spend time with you; the Valentine’s Day festival downtown.

𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉~ Levi Ackerman x GN!Reader, SFW, v-day themes, inexperienced love, language, cannon-verse, Levi being awkward and crass.

𝒜/𝒩~ Just a lil V-Day fic, since I missed out on doing something for Thanksgiving and Christmas :) Happy Valentines lovelies!

I might make this a mini-series eventually?? Lemme know what you think!! See below for more Levi content.

{ 1.9k words }

It had been an honest mistake, hadn't it?

How should he have known your interpretation of his words wouldn't be what he'd intended you to pick up on?

Though, in hindsight, perhaps he'd subconsciously worried you'd mistake his intent all along—he wasn't known for his poetry. He more than anyone knew this as fact.

The intended compliment he quietly uttered your way could have been more carefully thought out, to avoid confusion. The hand-up after a round on the training grounds could have been a bit more delicate, less forceful and rigid. Hell, even the smile he'd flashed your way last week probably looked more like a grimace or a scowl, now that he thought about it.

Levi honestly had tried to find a way to convey what he felt for you, in any way shape or form—but in all honesty, he wasn't good at this.

Humanity's Strongest Soldier...Seemed more fit to label him Humanity's Most Awkward Bachelor.

Life above ground has been more than he anticipated it to be; so many new sights to behold, so many new things to learn... Back in the Underground, things were much more to the point than they were up here. Much more crass, much more invasive, so much more painful...Up here, on the surface, all of that could easily apply: to certain circumstances—yet never quite so harshly as it was below the surface.

At least, that’s how Levi views it, as a fresh Scout within the Survey Corps. Perhaps one day his interpretation would change.

With having to learn how to read the people of the surface, and adapt to their so-called proper way of life, Levi was left feeling adrift. The stark contrast between their social cues and those of the underground was nothing short of overwhelming.

So, to say that romance was uncharted territory for him would be a vast understatement. It was one thing he’d never expected, never even thought on. He'd never had time for it in the past. He'd been busy surviving, and providing. But now? Now...He wasn't so sure that he couldn't carve out some time between his new duties in the Scouts to understand his emotions a bit more.

Especially the ones he'd recently taken notice of regarding you—the ones that made him stutter whenever you were around, and avoid prolonged eye contact when you spoke. The ones that sparked a warm flutter in the pit of his stomach whenever you laughed, or chanced a smile his way.

It was near maddening, in the beginning. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t understand why he felt what he did. Briefly he recalled having been urged to just really think about it, to make up his mind and listen to his own heart. He’d scoffed at them, the damned bespectacled squad leader—always sticking their nose into his business. But maybe they had a point…

So eventually, he’d done just that; he’d sorted his thoughts and his feelings, dwelling heavily over them for quite some time. Eventually, gradually, he’d discovered that the attraction he held towards you was more than just a fleeting admiration for a fellow Scout.

It was so much more than that.

Such a simple notion should have come much easier to him, as self-observant as he was. His own stubborn pride had kept it hidden away from him, though.

Until now, that is.

Now, it was all he could focus on.

Every moment he wasn’t fully focused on a task, his mind would slip back into a pattern of obsession—fond observations he’d made about you over the many long months he’d been enlisted.

He’d watched you, unbeknownst to you.

Not so much in a way that would border on stalking, but merely keeping himself at a distance, silently absorbing every little fact he’d pick up on and store it away for a later time to muse over.

He found himself admiring you, out of sight. Certainly out of mind to you. Even after the revelation he’d made of his feelings, he couldn’t help but continue to keep his distance and simply watch you go about your days.

Stubborn as he had been, he truly was trying to understand himself whenever you were around. It wasn’t like him to be so unsure—so nervous, even. He’d watch you train, clean, socialize; all at a distance. He wouldn’t dare approach you and intervene with your time, worried he might somehow soil the moment for you, more so than for himself. He’d always frowned on obsessive stalkers in the past; he wasn’t about to become one himself. And yet…Here he was. Pining. Wishing, hoping…Pathetically entranced by all that you were.

In the present, he cursed himself. He’d mustered up the courage to face you in a way much softer than he usually preferred, hoping to not startle or offend you in any way this time. And yet, despite his careful planning, he’d managed to make the moment more awkward than endearing. Once again, the silly cycle repeated itself.

“The hell even was that?” he grumbled to himself, quietly so as not to be heard by passerbyers.

“Why the hell didn’t I just say what I initially thought, instead of butchering any chance I could have had?”

Levi sat alone in his newly appointed office now, silently contemplating his actions the day before.

He really had meant it as a compliment—it had not come across this way. Instead of seeing the smile on your face that he was after, he was met with a furrowed brow and a set of pursed lips.

“I don’t suppose you find yourself funny?”

Your quietly spoken words still echoed in his mind.

What had started as a feeble attempt at pursuing a conversation with you after a meeting—in hopes to steer it in a more progressive direction—ended abruptly in narrowed gazes and an awkward silence.

“Idiot, fucking idiot…” he muttered as an afterthought to himself, standing up to pace the small space.

He’d heard tell of an event celebrated amongst the people born and raised above ground—some sort of ‘lovers day’, meant to bring attention to a love one held for another. Initially, he thought it was corny. A little ridiculous, even. Soldiers and civilians alike would participate in this festival of sorts, celebrating ‘romance and unity’.

‘Pointless. Waste of a good coin. Waste of time.’ He’d once proclaimed.

It took him falling in love to understand why any such thing would be celebrated as a ‘holiday’ worth entertaining.

Now that he had fallen for another, however, he suddenly could understand. Even just a little.

He’d pondered over such an idea for months, long before the event would take place. At first he brushed it off as some teenage fantasy, asking the one person he admired from a distance to join him on a night of fresh starts and new experiences—some ridiculous little event to finally express his heart to you.

But after some time, in which he truly began to understand what he felt for you…The idea seemed plausible, at the very least.

Cringy, maybe. Satisfactory, definitely.

Eventually he’d made up his mind, only a couple of days before the dreaded date. He would ask you to celebrate: with him.

He’d hoped to ask you if you would join him for dinner—maybe walk amongst the festivities together, as a way to indulge in the festival being held in the town square. Maybe there he could admit to you, in some way or another, how he favored you above all others. How he wanted to pursue something, anything with you—if you’d let him. Only if you shared his ambition.

But of course, approaching this subject with you only made his clumsiness worse. The attempt he’d made at broaching the subject couldn’t have been more uncomfortable for either of you.

“You people up here tend to celebrate weird shit…You’re alone for this weird ass holiday, right? I don’t imagine you’d have the time for such things, anyways—always caught up in perfecting your shitty strategies and formations.”

That had been the first and last statement he’d made before your remark, regarding him in an almost offended way. Even now, your response still haunts him.

In his mind, he figured this was a compliment; a rough one at best. You were always focused, always concentrated and putting your best foot forward for any task that demanded your full attention. Of course he’d noticed. He always had. Yet…now hadn’t been the time to point that out—much less, in such a demeaning manner.

He hadn’t meant to underline your lack of a romantic life. But he had, and the moment the words left his lips he knew it.

Less than a full day had passed since then, and still he mulled over it, sulking over his inability to take that step forward and just say what he meant. To say what he needed you to hear.

It was evening when he left his office, the sun filtering through his window setting over the walls beyond in crisp oranges and bright pinks. He might have stopped to watch it for a moment, if he weren’t at wit’s end.

He’d kept himself cooped up stewing over his mistakes long enough—It was now or never, wasn’t it?

Finding you hadn't been too difficult. In fact, it had been a little too easy; of course he’d find you chatting happily amongst comrades before turning in for the night.

The difficult part, the one he knew he would inevitably face, was getting you alone for a single moment. Just long enough to grab your attention and say what needed to be said…

To his silent astonishment, he’d managed the task easily enough; a simple demand for a moment of time seemed to do the trick. He’d pretend he didn’t see the hesitance in your eyes, the silent judgment that you never verbally conveyed.

“Listen; I’m shit at words. Especially the weird shit you all say up here on the surface. It’s strange, and it’s stupid. But…The other day, what I’d meant wasn’t what I said. If-If you are alone tomorrow…Well, I suppose I am as well. I’d wondered: what if we grabbed a bite to eat? Avoid the drama these love sick idiots parade around and just…I dunno…Get to know one another a little?”

You’d huffed in amusement, a crooked smirk on your enchanting lips. The earlier hesitance disappeared from your gaze, replaced now by a nearly mischievous look of understanding.

The silence left behind from his proposal was enough to spike his nervousness once again—he was so far out of his element that even he would laugh at himself if he were observing from afar.

Maybe he’s misjudged, made a mistake…

But eventually you shook your head, uncrossing your arms and looking him over head to toe, curiosity beaming in your pretty eyes.

“As it should happen, I’m not busy for Valentine’s tomorrow, and I suppose I could stand to better familiarize myself with my fellow Captains…”

A pause in your voice brought about the stilling of his heart, his chest aching briefly with anticipation. But then you gave your final answer; a few simple words that lifted the anxious weight in his heart and eased the tension in his shoulders. He nearly sighed with visible relief.

“Why not? I’ll go to dinner with you. There’s a new café in Trost; I hope you’ve heard of it?”

~𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝐿𝑒𝓋𝒾 𝒜𝒸𝓀𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝐻𝑒𝓇𝑒!~

~𝒟𝒾𝓋𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓇~

[philsmeatylegss]

I’ve seen a few people, mostly non-American, who don’t know who Henry Kissinger is or what he did. So your local history student and nerd is going to try to give a quick summary of the main atrocities he committed.

-Role in the Vietnam War: this is the first and biggest reason most people have for hating Kissinger. He unnecessarily extended and expanded the war prolonging the already frivolous conflict. He purposefully delayed negotiations. He approved large scale carpet bombings done with the use of B-52 bombs killed thousands to millions of innocent civilians. The Christmas Bombing was an intense, focused bombing that caused large civilian deaths in a short period of time. He engaged in negotiations with the North Vietnamese often without permission or knowledge from the US government. He was the National Security Advisor and overall had much knowledge about 1) how useless the war was 2) the travesties happening to both the North Vietnamese and South, as well as America’s own soldiers.

-Secret Bombing and Invasion in Cambodia: Kissinger (and Nixon) lead secret bombing campaigns in Cambodia aimed to destroy North Vietnamese trails and routes that ran through the country. Cambodia originally pursued neutrality in the war. Its citizens were not involved.

-Invasion and Bombing of Laos: Laos also held North Vietnamese routes, so Kissinger led Operation Lam Son which was a full scale invasion supplied with American air power and weapons. Not that it would matter, but this invasion did little to interrupt the trade routes. The North Vietnamese, made up of people who lived and knew the landscape of Vietnam, were able to adapt and find new routes. There was also secret bombings carried out in Laos, authorized by Kissinger, aimed to destroy the Ho Chi Minh trail, which, once again, wasn’t disrupted and just took innocent civilian lives in Laos. Laos also remained neutral in the Vietnam War. They were not involved, yet they were punished.

-Involvement in the Bangladesh Liberation War: this was a war between Bangladesh and Pakistan. Kissinger remained in a close relationship with Pakistan which, by now, was known to be committing horrendous human rights abuses, including large scale killings of the Bangladeshis. In fact, Kissinger and America provided funding for them. America was aligned in the first place because of bullshit Cold War alliances.

-Supporting and funding a dictator over an elected president: Chile had elected a *gasp* socialist president that really made Kissinger piss his pants. Project FUBELT, directly under Kissinger’s guidance, initiated covert actions to undermine and prevent the socialist President, Salvador Allende, from rising to power. Financial support was provided to anti-Allende groups and would eventually provided support to a military coup who would kill Allende. The leader of the coup, Augusto Pinochet, would then assume power and take rule an authoritarian government and become a dictator for 17 years. Under his rule, torture and executions were carried out against political dissidents and others. This wasn’t a secret.

-Supported the brutal invasion of East Timor: Indonesia would invade and occupy East Timor in 1975. Kissinger and Nixon had knowledge of the invasion beforehand and provided military support despite the knowledge of human rights abuses already taking place in East Timor by the Indonesians, abuses often using US weapons. Massacres, forced displacement, suppression of political dissents, torture, sexual abuse, restrictions of religious and cultural practices, and scorched earth policies are just some examples.

To my knowledge, these are usually the largest reasons cited, but please add more if I’m wrong. There are also lesser known atrocities either supported or funded by Kissinger, many taking place in Africa, that I thoroughly implore you to read about. Please correct any inaccurate things I said.

[creepycranberry]

Orange juice

2

Rafe Cameron x reader

Kind of Platonic! Kie x Rafe?

Warnings: talk of alcoholism, drug use, grief, depression, pregnancy, rehab, parental issues, spoilers (?),not proofread, let me know if there’s more.

->->->->->->

Rafe knew Christmas wouldn’t exactly be ideal this year, he had tried his best to do the same as his family had done his whole childhood- sans the family.

Sarah was going to be giving birth soon so Christmas at theirs was small, Rafe had gotten the baby a gift as well as something for his little sister.

He decided to drop off the gifts a couple weeks before Christmas.

“Why are you dropping these off now?” Sarah asked, attempting to crouch to put the presents under the tree that she already had put up. Rafe took them from her and set them under the tree himself, “and who’s this third one for?”

“Kie.” Rafe clears his throat.

“Kie?”

“Yeah. Figured she’d had a pretty hard year. And I’m gonna be headed out of town around actual Christmas and I don’t know if I’ll see you before then so I thought I’d drop them off today.” He shrugs, itching the back of his head.

“What is it?” Sarah asks, looking at the poorly wrapped box, the snowman print crinkled in a way that made the snowmen’s faces seem oddly distorted.

“Nothing important.” Rafe shrugs, “I just- it’s nothing.”

“Okay. Well thank you for the gifts.” Sarah smiles, “where are you going for Christmas?”

“Just gonna be on the mainland for a few days. Business stuff.”

“Are you going to see her?”

“Who?” Rafe badly feigns cluelessness.

“Rafe.”

“Yeah. I am.” He conceded, “She thinks she may be ready to come back this year. Or that’s what Marjories telling me.”

Sarah smiles and begins folding the basket of freshly washed clothing. Over the last few months her and Rafe have become somewhat closer. Rafe had felt the need to help protect snd provide for Sarah and his niece or nephew. Last time he was over she was attempting to clean baseboards. Every time he comes over she seems to be doing something different to prepare her home “just in case the baby comes early.

Rafe thinks she’s become too used to things not going to plan.

And over the months as he’s come to visit Sarah he’s seen Kie more and more. She never talks much, if at all, but she’s less resentful towards him. And Rafe can’t find it in him to resent her when she always looks depressed, like she’s missing something. And he supposes she is.

“They’re letting you talk to her?” Sarah asks.

“She’s been out of the rehabilitation center for a while and she’s been living with her aunt. She’s Not exactly under lock and key.” Rafe retorts.

“You just haven’t mentioned talking to her in a few years.” Sarah shrugs, using her stomach to set a shirt on as she spoke, “I wasn’t sure if you were out of contact by choice or by like circumstances.”

“Well I’ve been somewhat preoccupied and I- I didn’t want her to know how I’d been the last few years. I want her to know me now, you know?”

“I get it.” Sarah says.

She seemed gentler now more than usual. It might have been the pregnancy but something in her was put at ease when they got back home. Rafe thought that perhaps if something else were to happen she would finally have an excuse to stay back, that her duty to her child would outweigh her loyalty to John B.

Or maybe it was just the pregnancy.

The sound of soft footsteps down the hallway catch rafe and Sarah’s attention. The both look up the see Kie pattering into the living room, wearing a tshirt that was clearly not hers.

Rafe was pretty sure he knew who it belonged to though, “hey, Kie.” He smiles easily, trying to make his presence in her home feel less invasive.

“Rafe. What’s going on?” Kie sighs, leaning against the doorframe.

“Just dropping off Christmas presents.”

“Isn’t that like a bit from now?” Kie asks.

“It’s in a week and a half.” Sarah smiles. She was used to Kies perception of time being off. It had been like this for months.

“Oh,” Kie clears her throat, clearly somewhat embarrassed.

“Creeped up on me too.” Rafe offers and Kie nods.

“Good to know,” she tried her best to smile and return rafe’s politeness. She was still getting used to him being on their side. She had to remind herself that he didn’t want to be their enemy, “Sarah, are there still leftovers from the other night?”

“I hid a smaller container away from the boys. It’s in the vegetable drawer.”

Kie smiles at Sarah and waves awkwardly to Rafe, turning and heading into the kitchen.

“Has she uh, been doing any better?” Rafe asks. He had listened to Sarah ramble about her anxiety towards Kies grief, he knew if there was good news to report it would give Sarah some sense of hope but if there wasn’t at least he could revel in the fact that Sarah is confiding in him again.

“Depends on what you mean by better but she’s more functional.”

“I’m glad.” Rafe says, seemingly surprising Sarah. She wasn’t used to him being genuine quite yet, “functional is a good step forward. I uh- I would know.”

Sarah smiles at him like she used to and it makes his heart jump. He went into this with the intention to fix his family for his father, but in the process he just remembered how much he loved her when they were little. Now it was more for human connection than anything to do with his father’s wishes.

Rafe excuses himself from the house and gets in his truck, letting the engine run for a minute to warm him up before he starts driving.

->->->->->->

You sat in the car with your aunt, silence thick between the two of you. Your parents had given up on you entirely after you had gone to the hospital with alcohol poisoning after sneaking out and not coming home for days. Aunt Marnie took you in. Flew you to New York, put you into a smaller teen rehab situation and you stayed there for months before actually being able to move in with her.

She wasn’t one to let you slip up, she kept you going to meetings and therapy. Conversation wasn’t either of your strong suit, you had a shared understanding of one another and were content being in each others presence.

“The Cameron boy called.” Your aunt informs you and your eyebrows shoot up.

“He called you?” Aunt Marnie nods and you shake your head, “radio silence for three years and then he calls you?”

“He asked about coming down for Christmas and possibly taking you home for a couple weeks to visit.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him we’d see how Christmas went. And that he’d have to speak to you about it of course.”

You stew for a few Minutes and aunt Marnie waits, knowing you’ll say what you’re wanting to in time.

“Three years and now he wants to visit?” You ask incredulously, cynicism lacing your words.

“He sounds better than he was the last time I spoke to him.” She informs you and you shake your head.

“He’s such an ass.” You mumble, “and he couldn’t even contact me directly about it?”

“From what I understand the last few years have been hard on him. His father died not too long ago, let’s not forget.” Marnie always tried to see the other side of things. She was eccentric and positive and no nonsense.

“But what about before that? Before all of that shit?”

“Language, young lady.” Marnie warns and you press your lips into a thin line, “and that’s a question for him. Just hear him out before you let your anger get the best of you.”

You nod and look out the window. The snow was falling in a thick white haze. You hated New York when you first moved here. It was too crowded and the people were rude and traffic was hell.

But then one day you were sitting on the balcony at the rehabilitation home and you were painting. It was cold, you had your comforter wrapped around you tightly and a hot cup of coffee. The place Marnie put you in was unconventional at best. It wasn’t even really an official rehab center you just didn’t know what else to call it.

It was the home of an old woman your Aunt was friends with. There were only a few other kids there. It was quiet for the most part, it was relaxing and enjoyable at times.

Miss Leigh had a long list of rules, she didn’t allow many kinds of medicine, she was very against soda and she didn’t take shit from anyone. She checked rooms once a day to make sure no one had anything they shouldn’t have and she made sure to be very hands on in the healing process of the kids she took in.

Her son had died at nineteen from alcohol and drug use and she had dedicated her life from that point to helping kids like him. You weren’t sure if it was legally considered a rehab or even a business but it worked for you.

Each person there was on a schedule fitted to them. Yours involved a lot of distractions, hobbies, and chores. Distractions seemed to work for you so you didn’t think about the mental and physical toll that withdrawal was having on you. You read when you woke up, helped with lunch, ate lunch, helped clean the kitchen, took a walk, painted, helped Miss Leigh with her flower beds, helped with dinner ate dinner, sometimes dessert and then you would sit on the porch with Miss Leigh until her bedtime and then you painted some more. And then once a week your aunt would pick you up and take you to therapy, then to dinner and then back to Miss Leigh’s.

you painted outside mainly, listening to the birds and one of the records from Miss Leigh’s extensive collection and trying to keep from thinking about your parents or how much you wanted a drink and a blunt or a certain blonde haired girl and her brother.

It had been cold for weeks but there hadn’t been any snow, despite Miss Leigh sitting in the kitchen every day saying that today would be the day. It was dark outside and Miss Leigh had already gone to bed. The lights were on in the garden where two of the other kids sat on the fenced in patio with a chess board.

You were focused on your painting, humming along to a record when you heard some laughter and squealing in the garden. And when you looked you realized snow was falling heavily. You’d never seen snow this heavy before. You completely abandoned your painting to watch it fall. You watched it until you fell asleep and you ended up sick for days after but you didn’t mind so long as you could sit at your window and watch the snow fall.

You’d wanted to call Rafe about it so badly but you wouldn’t be able to actually talk to him until you went to live with your aunt officially.

You found yourself wanting to call him all of the time, more than you thought to when you lived in the same town as him. You never had to call him really, he was always there.

You missed it.

[teaspoonnebula]

VALL Chapter 1 - The Warning

So as a recap - yes I run this substack. No, I haven't read this novel. I'm really looking forwards to getting to experience new (to me) canonical Sherlock Holmes for the very last time in my life... and I'm going to write a bunch about it, so hold on tight.

“I am inclined to think—” said I. “I should do so,” Sherlock Holmes remarked impatiently. I believe that I am one of the most long-suffering of mortals; but I'll admit that I was annoyed at the sardonic interruption.

LOL I love how we jump right into Holmes and Watson banter. Watson's understated "“you are a little trying at times" reminds me of his reaction to Holmes shooting holes in the walls at Baker Street being "I felt strongly that neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of our room was improved by it."

Of course we don't get any indication of the tone in which he says these things, but I think we can guess Watson is countering with a little acerbic wit of his own.

So, Holmes has received a letter from a mysterious figure known as 'Porlock'

Picture to yourself the pilot fish with the shark, the jackal with the lion—anything that is insignificant in companionship with what is formidable:

This idea of the pilot fish is a very cool metaphor. Unfortunately it is entirely ruined for me because it was also used in the Christmas Invasion episode of Doctor Who to describe these things and that's always where my brain is going to go:

Porlock is one of Moriarty's henchmen or representatives! Which makes me interested in the fact that I've never come across this character in pastiches or adaptations or fanfic - why not?

(Also it makes no sense for Watson to know all about Moriarty but that's a Continuity Thing and we all know Arthur Conan Doyle didn't let that sort of thing get in the way of telling his story - more power to him, honestly.)

“You are developing a certain unexpected vein of pawky humour, Watson, against which I must learn to guard myself.

I JUST SAID THAT, HOLMES.

“May I be there to see!” I exclaimed devoutly.

Well THAT is a sucker punch of a line. No, Watson, you won't be there to see, I'm afraid. See, there will be this Swiss boy... anyway, we're getting off track.

Turns out Porlock is a bit of a mole (I wouldn't quite go so far as to say 'double agent'), and has been giving Holmes information provided he is paid enough. This includes a secret cipher which relates to a particular book, which Holmes assumes will arrive in the second post.

GUTTED I didn't read this book when I was 11, I loved ciphers and would have lapped this up.

“Your native shrewdness, my dear Watson, that innate cunning which is the delight of your friends...

"your friends" Lol Holmes just say "Me" we know that's what you mean - and gosh, he's being so sarcastic with Watson!

Billy the page shows up with the second post and readers, I CHEERED at Billy. Does he say anything? No. But BILLY!!! Alas the letter from Porlock says that he just had an unpleasant encounter with Moriarty (with an envelope addressed to 221b in his possession, whoops!) and so so he won't be sending along the key to the cypher.

I love that Holmes' reaction to this isn't frustration at not getting his cypher, but worry for Fred Porlock, and hope that Moriarty doesn't actually suspect him. THIS is why I love Canon Holmes - I think he is fundamentally kind...

“Perhaps there are points which have escaped your Machiavellian intellect.

Holmes points out that they might be able to work out which book is required for the cypher, and guides Watson through his deductive process - which is adorable. And I loved following along with it too - with my knowledge of Victorian ephemera I was hoping it was going to be a Bradshaw, but as Holmes notes to both Watson and me, the range of vocabulary needs to be broader!

It's a Whitaker's Almanac! But not the new edition - the old one. This is a fun little reversal which gives us a moment of Holmes thinking he's 'failed'.

The message suggests that someone called Douglas who lives at Birlstone House, Birlstone, is in danger.

(Clearly this is a totally different house to Hurlstone, from Musgrave Ritual....)

After deciphering the message, Holmes and Watson get a visit from an Inspector MacDonald. I was a little sorry this isn't one of the familiar Yarders (Hopkins, my beloved...) but I'm going to be interested to get to know him. Alas, Holmes is too late to save Douglas - he has already been murdered.

***

So, uh, I'm having the time of my life reading this, honestly. It's such incredibly good fun. I'm intrigued that whatever has happened to Douglas must somehow be linked to Moriarty.

There's a lot of banter about Watson's intellect which I feel should frustrate me more, a lot of the dialogue feels like it's bordering on being quite patronising to Watson, but I think his reactions suggest this is comfortable back and forth done from a place of security in each other.

[asksakitherito]

Good Evening Saki,

Since the Village is beginning to decorate for the season of winters crest, I felt it was time I begin planning for Christmas in this new age.

Back in my own time I was quite used to spending the season alone training in the mountains to sharpen my skills while others were lazing about singing songs and celebrating. I lost my parents fairly early on in life and felt that a family-based holiday such as this was simply unrelated and pointless to me.

However, Tulin the other day asked me what I was getting him and he seemed remarkably upset when I informed him the answer was nothing as I was going to leave over the holiday season to give you and your family space to celebrate together without my intrusion.

I feel...a touch guilty for upsetting the boy, so perhaps I could...drop by with a present for him? If I wasn't intruding, of course. I do not wish to interrupt your family's traditions. I can just leave it at the door if you'd prefer.

Admittedly I've never had to aquire anybody a Christmas present before and I'm particularily unsure where to start. The boy already has a decent bow and enough arrows to last a lifetime - what more could he need? I considered providing him with some high power explosives but I expect you may disapprove of such a gift. Some marbles perhaps?? Do children of this age still play with marbles? They were all the rage when I was a boy, I have no idea what fledglings enjoy now days. Are yoyos still 'cool'?

I know that the winter celebrations are most important to people and I respect that you and Teba likely feel uncomfortable bringing up my invasive presence roosting with your family like an overgrown fledgling without their own nest, so I want you to know that I am perfectly used to spending the season elsewhere, I'm certain I can locate a suitable roost somewhere out of your way, it is what I have always done. All I request is that you inform me whether you would like me to leave before Christmas eve or just for the day - and whether you'd prefer I keep my distance until the new year or whether it is acceptable for me to return for the fleeting days of December?

Revali. Teba and I expected you to stay in for the holidays, please don't feel the need to stay away. I speak for both Teba and Tulin when I say I hope you chose to join us for Christmas and New years. However if you don't want to stay you do not have to, it is entirely your choice Revali. (However I will be making honey candy, I believe I found a useable recipe)

In today's society wooden toys are popular, young girls play with wooden dolls and boys with wood horses, Tulin's last one broke the day he got it. So I'd recommend getting him something durable.

I will be buying him paints for him to use, so if you do he could decorate it as he pleases. Maybe that will help him to be more careful with it.

[cafenostalgique]

My ultimate film watchlist (1960s-1970s)

1930s-1940s | 1950s | 1980s | 1990s | 2000s | 2010s

Welcome to part three of my personal ultimate film watchlist! For an explanation, please see part one listed under the 1930s-1940s tab. Otherwise, let's get on with the list!

To preface, this is probably going to be one of the shorter installments in this series, solely because some years release banger after banger, and others end with little excitement in the industry. I'm sure there were reasons for this outside of just the studios. I'm also no well-versed, nor entirely interested in films from these decades, as this is when both soft-core, and full-on pornography became a lot more common. There are some suspicious films in this list that I want to watch primarily for the historical context it provides to the era, however there's no guarantee I'll finish them. Some film discriptions are also very vague during this era, so be sure to look up reviews before watching lesser-known films!

watched | loved| wouldn’t watch again | holiday

1960

Breathless

Eyes Without a Face

House of Usher

La Dolce Vita

L'Avventura

Little Shop of Horrors

Peeping Tom

Pollyanna

Psycho

Spartacus

Swiss Family Robinson

Ten Who Dared

The Apartment

The Time Machine

The Virgin Spring

Toby Tyler

1961

Babes in Toyland

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Greyfriars Bobby

Last Year at Marienbad

Nikki, Wild Dog of the North

One Hundred and One Dalmatians

One, Two, Three

The Absent-Minded Professor

The Innocents

The Parent Trap

West Side Story

1962

Cape Fear

Carnival of Souls

Dr. No

Ivan's Childhood

Lawrence of Arabia

La Jetée

L'Eclisse

Lolita

My Life to Live

The Exterminating Angel

The Manchurian Candidate

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence

The Miracle Worker

To Kill a Mockingbird

1963

Bye Bye Birdie

Charade

Cleopatra

Contempt

From Russia with Love

Son of Flubber

The Birds

The Great Escape

The Sword in the Stone

1964

A Fistful of Dollars

A Hard Day's Night

Bikini Beach

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

Goldfinger

Mary Poppins

My Fair Lady

Red Desert

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg

Woman in the Dunes

1965

A Charlie Brown Christmas

Dr. Zhivago

Help!

Repulsion

The Sound of Music

Thunderball

1966

Blow-Up

Daisies

How the Grinch Stole Christmas

Persona

Seconds

1967

Belle De Jeur

Bonnie and Clyde

Magical Myster Tour

Marketa Lazarová

The Crucible

The Graduate

The Jungle Book

Weekend

1968

2001: A Space Odyssey

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

Funny Girl

Night of the Living Dead

Planet of the Apes

Rosemary's Baby

The Love Bug

The One and Only, Genuine, Original Family Band

Yellow Submarine

1969

Army of Shadows

Baby Love

Freedom to Love

Frosty the Snowman

Hello, Dolly!

Journey to the Far Side of the Sun

On Her Majesty's Secret Service

Pippi Longstocking

Romeo and Juliet

The Gay Deceivers

The Littlest Angel

1970

Let It Be

Love Story

M*A*S*H

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

The Aristocats

1971

A Clockwork Orange

Escape from the Planet of the Apes

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

1972

1776

Silent Running

Sisters

The Godfather

1973

American Graffiti

Badlands

Robinhood

Soylent Green

The Exorcist

The Way We Were

The Wicker Man

1974

Earthquake

Herbie Rides Again

The Godfather Part II

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre

1975

Escape to Witch Mountain

Jaws

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

1976

All the President's Men

A Star is Born

Carrie

Freaky Friday

Rocky

Taxi Driver

The Omen

1977

A Tale of Two Critters

Close Encounters of the Third Kind

Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo

Saturday Night Fever

Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope

The Hills Have Eyes

The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh

The Rescuers

1978

An Unmarried Woman

Grease

Halloween

Halloween with the New Addams Family

Invasion of the Body Snatchers

Piranha

Return from Witch Mountain

The Initiation of Sarah

1979

Alien

Mad Max

The Black Hole

[theroyalhouseofwindenburg]

The Illusion of Loyalty

For more than three years, Cordelia's whereabouts have remained a mystery. On Christmas night in the year 1353, the royal family gathered at Windenburg Castle for an opulent feast befitting royalty. The dining hall glowed softly in the dim light as snowflakes danced outside, lending a cozy atmosphere to the occasion. King Edward, now approaching his sixteenth year, sat solemnly at the head of the table, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of his absent mother. Despite the festivities and merriment around him, the lingering absence of Queen Cordelia cast a somber shadow over the gathering.

Since 1350, numerous events have unfolded in rapid succession. In the autumn of 1352, the Kingdom of Bagley faced a formidable threat as the French launched an invasion in a bid to seize control of the land. Their massive army forced Bagley's royal family into exile, seeking refuge in Willowshire. Tragedy struck when Finchwick fell to the invaders, culminating in a devastating ambush on Bagley Castle that left it in ruins, the billowing smoke a grim testament to the chaos that ensued. As the summer of 1353 arrived, the once-proud Royal House of Bagley found itself teetering on the brink of collapse under the relentless onslaught of war.

Back at Willowshire Castle, the suffering persists. Priscilla, the Dowager Queen of Bagley and the last living descendant of the Tredonian Dynasty, a pure Tredonian lineage that has endured since the year 999, has grown gravely ill in recent weeks. She lay in her chambers, surrounded by family, being comforted by her daughter Corrine. Suddenly, she awoke from her slumber, looked to Corrine, and asked, "Wherefore art thou, Cordelia? Hast thou unearthed her whereabouts?" Corrine looked at her mother with sad eyes, softly shaking her head. The look of fear lingered in Priscilla's eyes as she responded, "My dear Corrine, as I lay here, feeling the weight of time pressing upon me, I must share with you a heavy burden that rests upon my heart. My soul trembles with the fear of the unknown. In these moments of uncertainty, I urge you to remember that even in darkness, there is strength to be found. Hold fast to hope, for it is a beacon that guides us through the darkest of nights. Trust in the resilience of our family, and believe that love will prevail, no matter the trials we face. Remember, my child, that courage is not the absence of fear, but the determination to persevere despite it. Let these words be a balm for your troubled spirit, and may they grant you the fortitude to weather this storm with grace and resilience."

Corrine provided assurance to Priscilla that their search for Cordelia would never cease, affirming the enduring legacy of the Bagley Dynasty. The next morning, Priscilla succumbed to her illness at the age of 66. Her grieving family gathered around her, draped in mourning attire, grappling with the unfathomable reality of her passing.

King Henry perceived the ominous signs accumulating around Bagley, the economy plummeting as the French ravaged markets and homes, spreading chaos through the once-prosperous kingdom. Amidst this turmoil, King Henry discerned an opportunity that could not be overlooked. Meeting with King Edward of Windenburg and his trusted Regent and Lord Protector, Lord Richard, King Henry orchestrated a pivotal meeting.

Gathered within the solemn halls of Windenburg Castle, Henry, Edward, and Richard engaged in negotiations fraught with tension and urgency. Aware of Bagley's dire state and the looming threat of the French invasion, Henry proposed a bold exchange. In a solemn pact, Henry relinquished the deed to Willowshire, a symbolic gesture of trust and alliance, in exchange for a substantial amount of gold from Windenburg that would provide them security for years to come.

The terms were meticulously crafted to ensure Bagley's survival amidst the ravages of war, the gold serving as a vital lifeline to protect the kingdom's interests and fortify its defenses. Edward, recognizing the gravity of the situation and the importance of solidarity among neighboring realms, graciously accepted the agreement. In an act of magnanimity, Edward extended hospitality to Henry and his kin, permitting them to remain within the walls of Willowshire Castle until the tumultuous war had run its course.

After the grandeur of the Christmas feast had faded and the halls of Windenburg Castle quieted down, King Edward retired to his chambers for the night. However, sleep eluded him, and a gnawing hunger stirred his stomach. With a sigh, he rose from his bed and made his way to the dimly lit dining hall, hoping to find a servant to attend to his late-night craving.

As he stepped into the corridor outside his chambers, his ears caught snippets of conversation coming from nearby. Against the stone wall, he listened intently as Lord Richard and Father Paul Leudemond engaged in a discussion that sent shivers down his spine.

"Intriguing," Paul remarked with a sly grin. "First, Bagley Castle succumbs to flames, a spectacle fit for legends." Lord Richard nodded in agreement, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"And then, the Dowager Queen Priscilla's demise. Quite a coincidence, wouldn't you say?" The tone grew somber as they delved into the recent events, with Paul adding, "A cruel twist indeed. But let us not overlook the grand finale. Willowshire slipping through their fingers into Windenburg's embrace. Oh, the tragedy of Bagley seems boundless." Despite the gravity of their words, Lord Richard couldn't help but chuckle with a hint of mockery. "Ah, but there's one more delightful twist to savor. Our elusive Cordelia, hidden away amidst the chaos. Yet, we know precisely where she lies."

Paul nodded in agreement, summing up their thoughts. Both men erupted into laughter at their manipulation of power, oblivious to King Edward's vigilant ears absorbing every word.

Consumed by fury, Edward felt the weight of betrayal heavy upon his shoulders as he refrained from confronting Lord Richard and Father Paul. His mind echoed with their mocking laughter, each chuckle a dagger in his trust. As he retreated to the sanctuary of his chambers, the flickering candlelight cast shadows of doubt upon his once unyielding faith in those around him.

Inside, the room seemed to shrink around him, suffocating him with the enormity of his anger. His clenched fists trembled, his jaw tight with restrained emotions. The silence was deafening, amplifying the bitter taste of realization that trust, once a cherished virtue, had become a fragile illusion in the treacherous landscape of a political game.

[nodutra19]

Snowgrave Inspirations?

So we all know the Snowgrave route was inspired, or at least has the texture of being as such, by creepypastas in the sense a game is being broken and has an almost gestalt intelligence in its reaction to being so. Beyond specific references and such, what do y'all think specifically inspired it? I imagine shit like Ben Drowned and Godzilla NES factor in, but I want to provide a unique addition:

Persona 1, or more specifically, Revelations: Persona.

Some set dressing for the uninitiated: Persona 1 has two routes:

The main story is the SEBEC Route, which centers around the demon invasion and transformation of Mikage-cho as a result of the machinations and experiments of the shady SEBEC ("Saeki Electronics & Biological & Energy Corporation") and how one Maki Sonomura stands at the center of all this.

That's the story most experience, but there's a harder alternate route called the Snow Queen Quest, or SQQ for short. This route centers around the titular play which was performed at St. Hermelin High, the school of the game, and how the Snow Queen Mask came to be possessed with a vengeful spirit. But in order to activate this quest, you have to take a number of steps after leaving the school to visit Maki but before activating the SEBEC route, which most people do because of the natural flow of the story; while not the most cryptic or elaborate thing I've experienced, you definitely have to go out of your way in order to experience this part of the game.

While the SQQ is similarly hiemal as Snowgrave since the Queen freezes the school over and attempts to sacrifice a pivotal teacher to bring back the "Eternal Night," the main thing I want to talk about is:

The fact that in the original American release of the game, retitled Revelations: Persona, cut this alternate route out. Now, there's a lot to be said about this release of the game and P1 as a whole. For that, I highly recommend Snickety Slice's videos on it from his Compendium series of essays.

As Snickety Slice says in the SQQ portion of video 3A, which focuses on the American localization of the time, no one really knows why it was cut, by which is meant there is no definitive answer. The most popular theory, as he posits, is that this was done to meet the Christmas deadline, which is a tad ironic considering the atmosphere and setting of SQQ. However, you can actually access a tiny bit of it: if you return to the school, you'll see it's disappeared and when you enter it, an FMV of the school surrounded by three towers and a peak plays. Snickety remarks how confusing this must have been for American players at the time since the actual steps to activate the quest were cut out.

With cheats you can access it, but it's a glitchy, nonsensical mess. I mention all this because of the glitchy theme in Deltarune so far, especially as a result of Noelle's seeming magnetism for the unnerving and dark as revealed in the Spamton sweepstakes and Noelle's posts. I think the details of SQQ and Snowgrave are too disprate to draw real parallels so far, but I get the feeling Toby is drawing from its atmosphere, especially the disconcerting aura of the original American release and the stray FMV. As for the glitchiness, I get the feeling it was all concentrated into Spamton, especially given Spamton's role in the game so far.

I haven't gone through P1 in a very long time, so this is where my rambling ends, but perhaps someone else can draw deeper parallels.

The only real problem is I have no idea how much of Megami Tensei Toby Fox has played. He's a weeb of high caliber, so I imagine he's gone through most of it by now, maybe even early Persona, given how UT's and DT's Talk systems were inspired by MegaTen's demon negotiation, which was present in P1 and the P2 duology, which certainly lines up with his age and background. After all, he gave the Earthbound: Halloween Hack that "Shin Megami Tensei Bullshit."

Also everyone here should check out the PSX OST. It has the best leitmotif.

[nbofvoid]

Bone Trees, Blood Flowers

Written for the dreamnblade christmas event @alterdnbweek is holding this year.

Day 6 prompts: First Date; Dancing

Obviously didn't get this posted yesterday, but I will get day 7 today as well!

This one is a fae AU. Dream and Techno are from different courts and are different types of fae. Specifically, Dream is an embodiment of an invasive plant - think kudzu for reference - while Techno is a more in line with a dryad but for a field turned into a marsh because of how much blood is in the area.

**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**

The chattering in his head shifts, increases in volume and he forces his head up from the pool covering his feet. Something green and white is clinging to one of the few rising skeletons in this area of the marsh. He tilts his head, blinking at the the shape as it wiggles at him in what the chant is saying is... greeting? Why is it greeting him?

"Hi! Hey! Is this a bad time or good for a drop in?" a voice says and he's pretty sure it comes from the green thing. And that he recognizes it?

Blood swirls around his legs as he approaches. Staring up at the shape as he tries to figure out what it is he recognizes. It stays high up on the skeleton, actually pulls the lower parts of itself up so he can't reach it as easily. It's still possible, but harder then if the little thing had stayed the way it was. The chanting croons in his head and oh.

"What do you need?" Techno asks the annoying Invasion that never seems to get the hint to leave him alone. No he doesn't like that, chat. Shut up.

The mask hides any hint of facial expression, yet he can hear the face splitting grin as the Invasion responds, "Not work. I want to show you something if you can step away for a moment."

Techno blinks, looking around the area. It looks well fed. Bloody enough that he should be able to step away for a moment, though it can't be for long. It can never be for long. Yet, Chat is urging him to go. Insisting that he'll like it and they want to see it and that it will be worth stepping away for a moment.

He turns back to the Invasion clinging to the vulture perch, "It cannot be long and I have to be back before they need their next feed."

The Invasion perks up and would have fallen off of the perch if not for the vines and roots wrapped around it, "That's fine! It shouldn't take that long and you can leave at any point! No insult taken or anything since I'm taking you from your job."

It ends with a laugh that sounds a bit too forced and, well, that's more annoying than being dragged from the marsh.

It's funny watching the Invasion flail as Techno kicks down the perch sending them falling into the blood below. It seeps into the green and streaks against the mask. He can feel the blood being drunk by roots even as they stumble to their feet, shaking off the blood that hasn't soaked through.

"Really? I would have been fine jumping between the perches," the Invasion sighs, scrambling up another and tearing the roots out.

Techno huffs, walking below them as they lead the way through the marsh to whichever pathway they intend to take. It's always strange stepping through them. Techno doesn't use them since he doesn't have to leave their realm for what he requires. His King and Queen provide him with all he needs.

The Invasion brushes along his skin as they step out. A silent steadying with just the right amount of deniability Techno isn't going to have to acknowledge that if he doesn't want to. Chat squees in his head, gushing at the act and how sweet it is that the Invasion was wiling to do that. Techno chooses to ignore their prattle, particularly since they keep spilling the Invasion's name and stop doing that.

"It's over here!" the Invasion calls, ahead on a hill and Techno hums as he crests it.

...It's gorgeous.

Blood splattered across the entire field, bodies strewn in pieces or whole. Others struggling to get out of the marsh seed and Techno struggles to not rush them. To slit their throats for the joy of creating a new marsh for his King and Queen. It's already started. Just a bit more, enough to turn the soil to red tinted mud. This wouldn't be enough for that, but Techno knows how to make one. He can easily do that again and his King and Queen wouldn't object to the increase in territory and power.

"You like it?" the Invasion asks and Techno had almost forgotten they were there.

He looks at them, ignoring the question as he asks, "How did you find this?"

"Ah, my Bishop has been interested in expanding a bit if they can get the proper things. Been moving to find that stuff and I remembered you saying the marsh starts with a flood-" they wave at the marsh seed, the words hanging in the air

That conversation was ages ago. It wasn't even a real conversation. More of a spitting threat in the midst of battle about what exactly Techno could do with their body. The fact it was remembered and clearly thought about-

Techno steps closer, can feel the pleasure dripping off the Invasion before it turns to confusion as he offers a hand to them, "Your bishop could use a dripping carnation, correct?"

"How-?"

"There's only so many things that can expand without battle," he shrugs. "A dripping carnation is one of them. I'll show you where to find it."

The Invasion's head tilts, he can feel the eyes behind the mask looking over him before, "Alright." and taking his hand.

Techno guides them into the seed, over the quivering that's reaching out to him, the bodies that crunch under his foot, and the gasping final breaths of those who happened to still be living as their eyes roll back in his presence. Chat has fallen into a quiet buzz in the back of his head before he even reaches the center of it. He faces the Invasion who's looking up at him, their vines, leaves, stems, and roots twisting in place.

"Dripping carnations are tricky," he says, gently tugging the Invasion into a spin. "They're called dripping because they drip blood from all parts so they need a lot of it to even take root."

"You've mentioned that plants can't grow in a blood marsh," the Invasion says, voice suspicious even as they tug Techno into a turn of steps around the body they were standing on. Bones break beneath their weight, flesh and innards squishing as well.

He hums, "That's true and even if they could, I can't grow things. So for a dripping carnation, there has to be something else for them to take root."

"Oh," the Invasion breathes. Their vines coil further along Techno's forearms, forcing him to bend backwards as they hover over him, "Do you want something else for this?"

"I was thinking more of it more as a gift," Techno responds.

The Invasion collapses dropping Techno in the process and he can't help laughing. Their body coils up into a shaking mass of green covering the white mask as they let out a high pitched keen. Techno grins at them, not getting up even though he could. Making sure the dripping carnation takes root can wait a bit. He's rather happy to see the Invasion struggling to get themself back into 'normal'.

**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~**

AU Notes:

if you didn't know, fae can use someone's true name to exert control over them as well as social niceties, loopholes in words, and their territory. so chat is a huge thing for techno since they can sang a Name without being told it, though he usually ignores it. it's also big that he worded it as a gift at the end since it doesn't have a debt tied to it.

as mentioned, they are part of different courts. techno's king and queen are kristen and phil. dream's is eret and sam, the bishop he mentions is sapnap

I'm realizing I have a lot of thoughts about how fae work.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

[george-the-good]

King George VI - Christmas Message (1943)

Once again, from our home in England, the Queen and I send our Christmas greetings and good wishes to each one of you, all the world over. Some of you may hear me on board your ships, in your aircraft, or as you wait for battle in the jungles of the Pacific Islands or on the Italian peaks. Some of you may listen to me as you rest from your work, or as you lie sick or wounded in hospital. To many of you, my words will come as you sit in the quiet of your homes. But, wherever you may be, today of all days in the year, your thoughts will be in distant places and your hearts with those you love. I hope that my words, spoken to them and to you, may be the bond that joins us all in one company for a few moments on this Christmas Day.

With this thought in my mind, I wish to all who are on service good luck and a stout heart; to those who wait for them to return, proud memories and high hopes to keep you strong; to all children, here and in the lands beyond the seas, a day of real happiness.

I send these words of Christmas greeting to all of you who dwell within the family of the British Commonwealth and Empire. I know you would wish me to send a message of hope to our gallant allies who fight with us, and to all who, in the loneliness of exile or the horror of invasion, look forward to our coming victory.

In this year almost passed, many things have happened, under God’s providence, to make us thankful for His mercies. The generous strength of the United States of America, the tremendous deeds of Russia, the endurance of China under her long ordeal, the fighting spirit of France re-born, and the flower of the manhood and womanhood of many lands that share the burdens of our forward march - all these have played their part in the brightening of our fortunes on sea, on land, and in the air.

Since I last spoke to you many things have changed. But the spirit of our people has not changed. As we were not downcast by defeat, we are not unduly exalted by victory. While we have bright visions of the future we have no easy dreams of the days that lie close at hand. We know that much hard working and hard fighting, and perhaps harder working and harder fighting than ever before, are necessary for victory. We shall not rest from our task until it is nobly ended. Meanwhile, within these islands, we have tried to be worthy of our fathers; we have tried to carry into the dawn the steadfastness and courage vouchsafed to us when we stood alone in the darkness.

This is not the time for a chronicle of our progress. But there is one landmark in the sombre, world-embracing battlefield which I hope and I trust may endure. Wherever their duty has called our men and women, they have gained new friends and come to know old friends better. They have learnt to share the burdens, and to read the hearts, of their neighbours; they have laid the foundations of new friendships between nations, and strengthened old ones formed long ago. As a result, there is springing up in every country fresh hope that out of comradeship in sacrifice shall come power to restore, and power to build anew.

I saw proof of this when I visited North Africa in the summer. I saw many thousands of men of the United Nations, united in action, in heart and mind and purpose. The only rivalry between them was in the service of a great cause; their only aim was the defeat of a common enemy.

In the same spirit of unity, men of diverse races have come together in the council chamber and round the conference-table: some to meet the stern, immediate demands of war itself; others to heal the wounds that war deals to all humanity - to feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, mend the broken, and succour the poor. So, as we see the clouds breaking on this Christmas Day, we should take comfort from our faith that out of desolation shall rise a new hope, and out of strife be born a new brotherhood.

From this ancient and beloved festival that we are keeping, sacred as it is to home and all that home means, we can draw strength to face the future of a world riven by a tempest such as it has never yet endured. In the words of a Scottish writer of our day: ‘No experience can be too strange and no task too formidable, if a man can link it up with what he knows and loves.’¹

---

1. From Memory Hold-the-Door, by John Buchan (Lord Tweedsmuir)

[thepiedsniper]

Getting people into Dr Who:

People who make them start with Classic Dr Who: you are the kind of person who sends someone a twenty minute YouTube clip and forces them to watch it immediately, in front of you.

People who start by showing them "Rose" (start of 9/reboot): you probably started watching Dr Who in 2005 and it rewrote your brain chemistry.

People who start with "The Christmas Invasion" (start of 10): you started/someone else started you here and you have decided to perpetuate the cycle of violence for others, or 10 is your favourite Doctor and you said "fuck it" to the context 9's season provides (why??).

People who start with "Blink": was this just your favourite episode or do you genuinely believe this is a good episode to introduce people to Dr Who? The episode doesn't even feature the main characters all that much. I would posit that this episode is only really enjoyable if you have enough context going in, and otherwise it just kind of ruins the experience you'd otherwise get from an organic, linear progression. It's like starting Avatar: the Last Airbender with "The Ember Island Players." I don't trust you.

Any other mid-season episode: much the same as above, but this seems to be less common so you're probably a special kind of freak (and good for you, I guess).

People who start with 11: you are either too young to remember 9/11, or you are just Basic (no shame).

People who start with 12: you hate fun (shame).

People who start with 13: you're probably so young that if I met you irl I'd call you "kiddo", but you're alright.

[nuwho20zine]

"Things end, that's all. Everything ends, and it's always sad. But everything begins again too, and that's always happy. Be happy. I'll look after everything else."

STORY OF THE WEEK: Christmas Specials

Release date: 25 December 20XX Main characters: Various Main villain: Various

Maybe one of the most beloved NuWho traditions, the Christmas Special always feels like a special time for “Doctor Who”; in fact, I think it’s fair to say that a lot of fan-favorite episodes came out on December 25th, and it would be impossible to choose just a single one to highlight–so we'll just shout them all out instead!

Even in harsh times, there is always good to be found in the world, but we must always strive to put it out there ourselves, even when it seems impossible. Stay safe out there, and have a happy holidays. - Mr Hobbes

Christmas time is a special time for the Doctor: a time for regeneration (“A Christmas Invasion”, “The Time of the Doctor”, “Twice Upon a Time”), a time to meet new future companions (“The Runaway Bride”, “The Snowmen”, “The Church on Ruby Road”), a time for one-off adventures with special people (“Voyage of the Damned”, “The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe”, “The Return of Doctor Mysterio”), a time to face the past and accept what has been (“The Next Doctor”, “The End of Time”).

Personally, it would be impossible to me to choose a single episode: David Tennant absolutely nails his first day on the job in “The Christmas Invasion”; Donna and Ten are as fiery and fun as ever in their first meet up in “The Runaway Bride”; “A Christmas Carol” feels like a wonderful, whimsical reinvention of the classic; “Last Christmas” gives me all the Clara x Twelve duo feels I could ever want; and “The Husbands of River Song” is a perfect balance of shenanigans and emotional, just to name a few episodes.

I’m certainly not alone in loving each Special exactly for its uniqueness. Mr Hobbes, a writer for the zine, says: “Whether it’s killer Santas with flamethrower trumpets, evil psychic snowmen, deadly spinning trees, goblin musical numbers, Doctor Who pausing the episode so he can break the fourth wall to wish the audience a very merry Christmas (RIP The Feast of Steven), or literally just A Christmas Carol, you’re always guaranteed to watch something delightfully insane. Personally, I’m quite partial to A Christmas Carol, considering that revisiting various events in a man’s past and future so he won’t passively further the evils of capitalism is just something that melds great with Doctor Who. But of course, if you’re in a more melancholy mood for the holidays, the survival horror of Voyage of the Damned provides an excellent tragic little tale (also Kylie Minogue is there). And there can be no doubt that The Church On Ruby Road has to be the funniest episode on television where a gaggle of intergalactic goblins sing about how much they want to eat a baby, while also serving as a lovely introduction for the Fifteenth Doctor. But perhaps the Christmas special that most embodies the spirit of the season, the kindness of humanity and the importance of your loved ones, is Twice Upon A Time. Bittersweet but satisfying, perfectly accentuated by the choice to visit the 1914 Christmas Truce. Even in harsh times, there is always good to be found in the world, but we must always strive to put it out there ourselves, even when it seems impossible. Stay safe out there, and have a happy holidays.” You can find Mr Hobbes at @idkaguyorsomething

The Christmas Special tradition continues this year in “Joy to the World”, and I can't wait 💛

Tell us: what Christmas Special are you revisiting this holiday season? Feel free to go for a trip down memory lane on our Instagram!

[pickalilywrites]

A 104th + Porco, Pieck and Marcel snowball fight on Christmas eve

thank you! hope you like it :)

snowball fight

104th trainee squad. marley warriors. modern au. 1522 words. read on ao3.

Reiner ducks behind the wall of snow he and his friends have built for protection. He breathes heavily, clouds of white escaping his lips as he tries to catch his breath. He doesn’t dare to look up and risk being pelted by an enemy snowball. They have so few men to begin with, and he’s not sure his team can afford any losses. His eyes dart towards Bertholdt who is busy providing them with even more ammunition to throw at their enemies. 

“Bertholdt, status report?” he asks. 

Bertholdt finishes off his most recent snowball and places it along with the others. The dark-haired giant listens for a bit before looking carefully over the wall of their snow fort. Just as quickly, he ducks back down. He scoots closer to Reiner, keeping his voice low to prevent being overheard. “They’ve temporarily ceased fire although the reason is unclear at the moment. I advise we take this time to stock up on supplies and ready ourselves for the next attack. It would be unwise to go on the offensive when they outnumber us.” 

“They also have Mikasa,” Porco growls. Like Reiner, he has taken refuge behind the snow fort. He rubs at his shoulder, sore from throwing so many snowballs. “I haven’t been able to leave the fort at all. She has incredible strength and accuracy. It’s like being pelted by a sniper that only shoots snowballs.”  

Reiner nods as he listens to Porco’s input. “It’s agreed then, we’ll take the time to rest and recover our supplies. How are the others...?” Reiner’s voice trails as his gaze travels towards Pieck who is patting down snow on one side of the fort. 

At first glance, it looks as is Pieck is reinforcing the snow fort and making the walls sturdier in case of an invasion, but on closer inspection she is simply making a small snow cave. She doesn’t notice her comrades staring at her until a beat later. Upon being caught, she gives her friends a dazzling smile. 

“Ah, are we still fighting the good fight?” she asks.  

“We’re fighting the good fight,” Porco snorts. He gestures towards her snow cave with a gloved hand. “What the fuck are you doing? You’re supposed to be helping us!” 

“I am helping! I’m keeping our most valuable warrior protected,” Pieck insists. She points towards Annie who lies sleeping inside the snow cave like a hibernating bear.  

“Okay, and what are you doing?” Porco asks his older brother who is sitting on the other side of the cave and reinforcing one of its walls.  

Marcel looks up with a guilty expression on his face. He had initially been taking part of the snowball fight and had even taken down part of the enemy’s snow fort by pelting snowballs, but he had seemingly disappeared without anyone noticing and gone off to help Pieck with her side quest. He shrugs pathetically and gestures towards Annie. “Just ... supervising,” he says with a guilty expression on his face.  

“I don’t think building a small snow cave needs that much supervision,” Reiner says. While Porco is nodding his head in agreement, Bertholdt does have an expression of concern on his face as he peers worriedly into the cave.  

“Is Annie okay? Isn’t it dangerous to sleep in the snow?” he asks. He can’t see very much in the cave. It’s quit snug and custom-built for Annie.  

“’s fine,” Annie can be heard mumbling before curling herself deeper into the cave so as to not be disturbed.  

Reiner looks troubled. Three people are currently out of commission: one is hibernating while the other two are ensuring their safety. “We’re going to have to rethink our strategy,” he mutters. 

Meanwhile, the other side of the battlefield is facing their own issues.  

Connie Springer lies on his back, eyes closed as he breathes raggedly. Sasha and Jean look down at him, their faces filled with worry. One of his hands is clasped in Sasha’s and the brunette is close to tears as she looks at the sorry state her friend is in. His clothes are covered in snow and he lies shivering, the tip of nis nose red despite the many layers he wears. 

“Connie! Connie! Stay with me! You’ll get through this! I promise we’ll get through this together!” Sasha cries. She holds on so tightly to Connie’s hands that her knuckles are turning white. Her lip quivers as she watches Connie’s breaths begin to slow. 

“I’m afraid ... it’s too late for me,” Connie chuckles weakly. His eyes flutter open just enough so that he can look at his friends one last time. He gasps and clutches at his side with his other hand. He winces at cold snow that permeates through the fabric of his mittens. “Those bastards got me good ... This may be goodbye.”  

Sasha and Jean watch in horror as Connie’s eyes flutter and his breathing slows to a stop. They pretend not to notice the shallow breathes he takes or how the corners of his mouth twitch upward in a smile he’s trying to suppress. 

“No!!!” Sasha cries. She crumples over Connie’s seemingly lifeless body and lets out exaggerated sobs as she mourns her friend’s fake death. 

“Don’t worry, Connie. We’ll avenge you if it’s the last thing we do!” Jean vows and stares back at the weapon of mass destruction that Armin is preparing that Jean refers to as “Hell’s Snowball.” He stalks over to the massive snowball, his boots crunch against the crisp snow. “Is the weapon ready, Arlert?” 

“It’s ready, but I’m afraid we don���t have a way to use it against the enemy. We don’t have anything large enough to throw it,” Armin says. He gives the large snowball, which is half his height, a few more pats just to check that it’s sturdy enough. “We should really have a catapult if we want to use this. Pushing it to the other side isn’t realistic.”  

“We don’t need a catapult. We have Mikasa!” Sasha says. She scrambles off her knees, kicking up a flurry of snow as she makes her way to Mikasa. Desperately she clasps Mikasa’s hands and looks into her friend’s gray eyes with fervor. “Mikasa, will you help us?” 

Mikasa looks down at Sasha’s desperate gaze. She then turns to look at the snowball that is as large as a small child. She returns her gaze once more to Sasha and reaches out to brush a hair from the brunette’s face, tucking it behind Sasha’s ear. “No,” she says sweetly. 

As Sasha’s face falls, Eren stands up. The pouch of his hoodie is filled with snowballs and he holds even more snowballs in each of his hands. His green eyes blaze with a passionate fire.  

“Don’t worry, Sasha. I’ll avenge Connie. I’m going to fucking destroy those bastards,” Eren says. He looks towards the snow fort on the other side of the snow. “They’ll rue the day they ever went to battle with us.”  

“Eren, no!” Armin says, clutching desperately at the elbow of Eren’s hoodie but Eren shakes him off. “Eren, it’s a suicide mission!” 

“Oh, just let him go,” Jean says, already waving Eren off. 

“Rrrragh!!!” Eren roars as he charges towards Reiner’s camp. He is pelted with more than a dozen snowballs five steps in and falls over, completely defeated. 

Historia, who has been strangely absent from the entire battle, appears with a tray of steaming mugs of hot chocolate. She smiles brightly, her cheeks rosy red from being in the kitchen preparing her friends holiday drinks. “Does anyone want any hot chocolate?”  

“Ooh, me!” Sasha says, bolting right towards Historia and grabbing the first mug. She drinks one long sip and squeals with delight. “Delicious!”  

“Wait, wait for me!” Connie calls, following close after Sasha. The scent of sweet, delicious hot chocolate has revived him. 

Soon, everyone is drinking hot chocolate, arguing about which team was closer to winning and how they definitely would have won if the battle had been extended five more minutes. As Eren describes how he could have defeated everyone if he had gone with his original plan — having Armin roll him up into a giant snowball and using him as a giant snow bowling ball to knock out all of Reiner’s team like they were bowling pins — Ymir sidles up against Historia. 

“Don’t you regret slipping away from the battle and missing out on such stimulating action?” Ymir asks with a grin. She elbows Historia. “But I guess making hot chocolate means you were able to stay warm and cozy instead of freezing your ass off in the snow.”  

Historia elbows Ymir back, a pout on her lips. “At least I was actually helpful. You just stood in the kitchen and watched me make hot chocolate for everyone,” Historia sniffs. 

“Oh, that’s my way of helping. If I had even touched the stove then the I would have burned the hot chocolate,” Ymir says and Historia laughs.  

The two girls take the last mugs and clink them against each other before taking a sip, smiling as their friends chat and laugh around them.  

[denimbex1986]

'GamesRadar+ verdict: 4.5 stars

A near-perfect end to the Doctor's 60th anniversary adventures. David Tennant and Catherine Tate bow out of the series in an often jaw-dropping episode that points the way to a bright new future for Doctor Who. Allons-y!

Doctor Who's trilogy of 60th anniversary specials comes to an end with The Giggle, the biggest and, by quite some way, the boldest episode of this show for many years. There's a returning enemy, a global threat, and a long-awaited regeneration - but that's just the half of it.

In some ways these episodes have mimicked the structure of returning showrunner Russell T Davies' seasons past. The Star Beast was a fun and frothy family adventure reminiscent of season-openers like Rose or Partners In Crime. Last week's Wild Blue Yonder recalled the show's mid-season turns to the weird in episodes like Midnight. The Giggle, then, is a classic RTD season finale, epic in scale, with wild swings of tone and mood, big ideas, UNIT battles - and a dance.

Wild Blue Yonder ended with a touching reunion with Bernard Cribbins' Wilfred Mott. It was, sadly, the only scene the Doctor Who production team were able to film with the beloved actor, though he does make a brief audio cameo this week (in a dialogue sample snatched from season 4 episode The Poison Sky). The Doctor (David Tennant) and Donna (Catherine Tate) have returned to Earth, only to find the planet in chaos caused by the arrival of the Toymaker - played by Neil Patrick Harris with malicious glee. A sinister laugh transmitted through every screen on planet Earth has caused everyone to become convinced that they are always correct, leading to a wave of violence that UNIT are desperately trying to keep in check. To put things right the Doctor and Donna must enter the Toymaker's realm and, quite literally, beat him at his own game.

That's the initial premise, anyway. The Giggle takes many bizarre and surprising twists and turns across its 61 minute run-time, including a visit to Soho in 1925 (which provides the episode with a distinctly creepy image in the laughing form of ventriloquist dummy Stooky Bill) and a memorable raid on the huge new UNIT headquarters (which has strong Avengers Tower vibes and will surely be an easy target in the next alien invasion). It's all leading up to a moment that we've known has been coming for the last 19 months: the regeneration of David Tennant's Fourteenth Doctor into Ncuti Gatwa's Fifteenth incarnation.

As most of you reading this by now will know, there's a lot to talk about there (and if you need a handy recap, we have an in-depth ending explainer right here). For now though, and with our spoiler-free remit in mind, we'll simply say that Gatwa makes an immediately winning first impression: charismatic, funny, and with an edge of unpredictable danger. I can't wait to see where this Doctor goes and what they do next. Thankfully it won't be a long gap, with the show returning on Christmas Day with another special, The Church On Ruby Road.

But let's not forget David Tennant. His reprisal of the role caused many a raised eyebrow in the admittedly easy to wind up world of hardcore Doctor Who fandom, but it may yet prove to be showrunner Davies' canniest choice on returning to the show that he revived all those years ago.

Whatever your thoughts on the quality of the last few years of the show, there's little doubt that it had fallen out of the public imagination somewhat, even if the rumors of its imminent demise from the worst sections of the internet were undoubtedly overblown. Bringing back the most popular actor to ever play the part before handing over to a brand new Doctor, played by a rapidly rising talent, was both a smart headline-grabbing action and a chance to find new shades in both Tennant and Tate's performances.

Because, while the Fourteenth Doctor is, in many ways, simply an older version of the Tenth, that difference in age and experience is important, as The Giggle makes clear. This Doctor runs as fast as ever, but they're sadder and more care-worn. They've been bruised by the events of the Flux, which left half the universe destroyed (what seemed at the time to be a dangling loose thread, now beautifully woven into the Doctor's character), and by everything else that has happened to them over the course of, for Donna, 15 years and for the Doctor, literal aeons. Crucially, they're willing to give up everything to protect their companion. OK, so the Doctor was never afraid of self-sacrifice, but there's something more than that here. "It's not about me," Donna says at one point, and Tennant's "Oh yes it is!" is said with desperate conviction. This was never simply a lap of glory for Tennant, but a chance to round out the character that made him a household name in the UK.

Tate, too, is fantastic. Donna has also aged, but she's only grown warmer, wiser, and more determined. A scene where she faces off against one of the Toymaker's traps is laugh out loud funny as she unflappably deals with a monster in a wonderfully straightforward way.

Elsewhere, Neil Patrick Harris makes for a wonderfully sinister villain - by turns camp, silly, and genuinely terrifying. A handful of throwaway lines may hint at bigger threats to come (and perhaps the return of another old enemy), but there's something unknowable, strange, and - as the Doctor puts it - "elemental" about this character. They invoked superstition in last week's episode and now here they are, tussling with what is effectively a god. This is Doctor Who played on a grand and mythic scale.

Not everything works perfectly. The Vlinx, a surprising new bit of UNIT tech, is left unexplained for now and strikes an oddly goofy note in the episode. The nature of the giggle itself offers Davies the chance to make some pointed statements about the state of our world, but fades into the background as soon as the Doctor and the Toymaker meet. And while the episode looks generally pretty amazing, there are some spotty VFX in places. But so it always was with Doctor Who, a show that never let a lack of time or money stop it from going to places much bigger shows would never dare.

These are small quibbles in an instalment that marks a near-perfect cap on a trilogy of episodes that have been simply a joy to watch these last three weeks, and which point to a blazing future for Doctor Who, one that feels genuinely unpredictable and unmissable again. Farewell David and Catherine. Welcome Ncuti! Next stop: everywhere.'

[converse-universe]

It’s this sort of shit that just makes me live for this show. It is so damn funny that this freaking little off handed moment is having absolutely bonkers ramifications - but you know what? That’s Who for you in a nutshell.

Okay so remember Christmas Invasion? Ten is all shiny and new and…yeah he began sowing the seeds of his own destruction completely unknowingly IN HIS FIRST EPISODE.

Please bear with me here. So he wakes up, has a lovely little sword fight, loses a hand. Never goes to find the hand which is a slightly dubious decision in my humble opinion - but no one cared because the Doctor was back, he was awake, he had a new hand and waggly eyebrows and he was already so obviously still into Rose Tyler. I mean my God, we had David Tennant living his damn dream as the Doctor, what more did we want!? So yeah, we definitely didn’t question the lack of retrieving a fairly major piece of biological data.

What happened to the hand?? Well we all know that Jack Harkness found it and used it to track the Doctor down when he landed on the rift to refuel. Jack jumped on the TARDIS, made the TARDIS freak the hell out and sent the Doctor, Martha, and Jack to the end of the universe.

Where they all met Yana aka the Master. Now as soon as John Simm’s Master is reintroduced to Who we can just follow the plot to the Master coming back from the ring etc for Ten’s big ol finale to know how the Master coming back eventually puts Ten in position to be done. (I know he CHOOSES to save Wilf so technically it’s in his own hands, but please…it wasn’t a choice really. He was always going to save Wilf. YOU ALWAYS SAVE WILF!)

BACK TO THE CHRISTMAS INVASION

Second thing Ten did in his very first episode that helped lead to his own destruction - deposing Harriet Jones (or setting the wheels in motion for it to happen). Now, don’t come for me here. I am not about to argue whether or not he should have done this. I think Harriet Jones was a good person, but a scared person and I completely understand why she did what she did. I also understand why the Doctor, an alien himself, sees these other aliens leaving, has declared the Earth defended, and then sees a world leader - someone he trusts - order those aliens’ execution.

Again. Not arguing about the rationale here, but as a single decision that seemed like something we could just leave in that episode - bye bye Harriet Jones, we all know who you are - it is madness the ramifications it had. Once Harriet Jones was gone there was no Prime Minister. Ten unknowingly provided a vacancy for the Master once he got to Earth.

And ohhhh boy, once he got to Earth…. Now, him getting to Earth was truly bad enough - if he’d managed that at all we’d see trouble from him at one point or another. Being the Prime Minister certainly helped him be more widely known and gave him a lot more power until he could fully just drop the facade and really go for it and BE the Master.

Of course, once he was known more widely then the weirdest cult was formed and we had the ring retrieved from the pyre after he “died” so he could be resurrected. Once he was resurrected and reallllly not okay the drumming in his head we find relates to Rassilon and Gallifrey, and the whole nasty chain of events from this episode, leading to the chambers flooding with radiation, and of course Ten saving Wilf to sadly, end up dying himself.

So yeah! It’s that sort of a show! In his first outing if he’d retrieved his own hand and perhaps not had Harriet Jones deposed…who knows.

But yeah, this time around I completely adore that it’s a damn salt shaker that’s throwing reality for a loop. Salt.

it's hilarious to me that all the crazy things that are happening in Doctor Who now are caused by Fourteen's brilliant idea of using salt and invoking a superstition at the edge of the universe