#timeless united classic

[blackneonsunset]

My wife kills me 😍

[obsidian-pages777]

Pick a Card: Your Wedding Vibes.

Left to Right top row- Pile 1-> Pile 2

Left to Right Bottom row- Pile 3-> Pile 4

Introduction

This reading will give you an idea of how your wedding will be like. Pick a pile based on your intuition and you will get your reading below. Each pile also has a description as to how your relationship will be like with your partner.

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Pile 1: The Whimsical Fairytale (The Lovers, The Sun, Six of Wands)

Wedding Vibes: This wedding will be a joyous celebration of love, filled with light and laughter. It could be an outdoor ceremony with a whimsical touch, perhaps incorporating personal touches and creative details. Expect beautiful weather, warm smiles, and a feeling of pure happiness in the air.

Nature of the Relationship: You and your partner will have a playful and affectionate connection (The Lovers). You'll find joy in the simple things and celebrate each other's successes (The Sun). This relationship thrives on open communication and shared adventures (Six of Wands). You'll likely face challenges together, but you'll overcome them as a united team, emerging stronger each time.

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Pile 2: The Elegant Soiree (Temperance, The Star, Seven of Cups)

Wedding Vibes: This wedding will be a sophisticated and elegant affair. Think classic details, timeless beauty, and a touch of luxurious comfort. The ceremony will be heartfelt and meaningful, with a focus on celebrating your love story.

Nature of the Relationship: You and your partner will have a balanced and harmonious connection (Temperance). You'll respect each other's individuality while supporting each other's dreams (The Star). There may be periods of indecision or exploring different paths (Seven of Cups), but ultimately, you'll always find your way back to each other. Communication and a shared vision for the future will be key.

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Pile 3: The Intimate Gathering (The Hierophant, The World, Five of Pentacles)

Wedding Vibes: This wedding will be a small, intimate ceremony focused on the commitment between you and your partner. It will be filled with love and deep connection, with close family and friends sharing your special day.

Nature of the Relationship: You and your partner will have a strong foundation built on shared values ​​and traditions (The Hierophant). You'll find fulfillment in creating a life together and achieving shared goals (The World). There may be periods of financial hardship or challenges (Five of Pentacles), but you'll face them together with unwavering support and understanding. Your love will only grow stronger through these experiences.

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Pile 4: The Adventurous Escape (The Chariot, Knight of Wands, Eight of Swords)

Wedding Vibes: This wedding will be anything but ordinary! Expect a unique and adventurous ceremony, perhaps a destination wedding or a celebration that reflects your shared passions. It will be exciting and full of surprises, reflecting your adventurous spirit. It will be a unique wedding, maybe the nature of your connection is unique as well. It will be a wedding for many to remember as well.

Nature of the Relationship: You and your partner will have a dynamic and passionate connection (The Chariot). You'll constantly push each other to grow and explore new things (Knight of Wands). There may be periods of feeling restricted or stuck (Eight of Swords), but with open communication and a willingness to compromise, you'll find ways to break free and keep the spark alive.

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[ssa-dado]

Annoyingly Yours - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff, angst though it's more like ♫ LOATHING, UNADULTERATED LOATHING ♫ Summary: At 33, Aaron Hotchner prides himself on discipline and control... until you become his deskmate. With quirks that seem to clash against his precision, you’re nothing short of maddening. Even your breathing seems to provoke a visceral reaction in him... surely out of frustration, right? Not out of... attraction?! Warnings: None, just wanted to clarify the story is set in 1998, before Hotch became Unit Chief (Gideon and Rossi were charge instead). Word Count: 4.4k Dado's Corner: Based on this ask sent by the loml @c-losur3. Made a few tweaks because I can. And because I’m evil. Enter Aaron “convinces himself he hates you while secretly nursing a big fat crush” Hotchner. A timeless classic. Hope you like it.

masterlist

“People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they seldom use.” - Søren Kierkegaard

Written in blue gel ink on a neon pink sticky note, it sat smugly atop the pristine case file Hotch had spent hours perfecting the night before.

No signature, no admission of guilt.

Just a bright, audacious square of defiance left to mock him.

In all his years as a profiler, he’d never encountered a case this easy to solve. Hell, he wished his active investigations were even half as simple as this. Because only after approximately half a second of analysis, the profile of the Unsub was crystal clear:

Female. Early 20s. A twisted sense of humor. A fascination with philosophy, particularly the existential, though occasionally dabbling in absurdism. Works in law enforcement - specifically, the BAU. Only writes in blue ink because she needs her words to stand out as much as her personality does. Likely has a compulsive habit of arriving to work early but never early enough to beat him to the office.

And there she was, the Unsub, strolling through the entrance just as the clock struck 6:01.

“Good morning, Hotch,” you said without even glancing in his direction, as if you somehow sensed his irritation wafting across the bullpen.

You were the Unsub.

His polyglot, sarcastic, sticky-note-vandalizing deskmate.

Case closed.

“Why did you leave me this?” he scoffed as his fingers carefully peeled back the neon pink square from the folder.

The glue resisted just enough to be infuriating, threatening to leave a smear on what he privately considered his masterpiece - a report so cleanly written that it might one day serve as the gold standard for FBI rookies.

And now, his file, had been vandalized.

It bore your mark.

“Educational purposes,” you said airily, as you dropped into your chair facing his own, a complete lack of regard for the disruption you caused just by existing in his vicinity.

He despised it.

That your desk had to face his, ensuring that every time he so much as lifted his gaze, he was met with the perpetual source of his unease, was nothing short of torture.

Why couldn’t you be like his last deskmate? That moron at least had the decency to leave him alone unless absolutely necessary.

The most small talk he’d ever inflicted was the occasional, self-congratulatory monologue about whatever barely-legal college girl he’d managed to con into bed last Friday night with the oh-so-irresistible revelation that he was FBI.

At least after spewing his bullshit, the guy would shut up and return to his self-inflicted misery, no doubt haunted by the limitations of his pitifully small brain.

You, instead, were far too smart - too sharp for your own good, really - but still your humor was as broken as his own. You had the same, if not more, level of drive. And for some inexplicable reason, you shared his obsession with arriving early.

It was maddening.

It was his thing - his small act of rebellion against a world that had always expected more from him than he could give.

His hours of solitude before the office filled with noise, before the madness and the demands of others hijacked his peace. Those few precious hours were his escape, his refuge, where he could think, where he could breathe.

But no, you had to show up too. Every damn morning.

“Educational purposes?” He echoed flatly, regretting, for the hundredth time, that he ever encouraged you to speak before his second cup of coffee.

“Yes, Hotch. I’ve never seen you use a sticky note,” you retorted, as if your reasoning were completely rational and not mildly absurd. “So, naturally, I assumed you didn’t know they existed. Thought I’d be kind of me to introduce you to the concept.”

“You’re hilarious,” he deadpanned, the sarcasm sliding off his tongue with a sharpness that matched the ache now forming at his temples. “I know what sticky notes are. I don’t use them because they’re impractical. They always leave glue residue, it’s annoying.”

Since for some reasons he felt the need to emphasize his point, he held up his sacred notebook - a worn, leather-bound treasure he treated like an extension of himself. “That’s why we have these. To take proper notes. Like agents. Not middle schoolers.”

But you didn’t even flinch.

Instead, you leaned back in your chair, the movement slow and casual, yet just enough to make him irrationally nervous that you might tip over. “They don’t leave residue if you close the case fast enough. The glue won’t have time to dry. But I guess if it takes you ages to solve something, that’s not really the sticky note’s fault, is it? Sounds more like a problem with the agent.”

His jaw locked so tightly it was a wonder his teeth didn’t crack.

The nerve of you.

He hated how his body betrayed him like this, the faintest tingle at the back of his neck, the way his pulse faltered and then stuttered, because his decision to remain silent didn’t let his voice do the stammering instead.

Oh, he wanted to argue.

Desperately.

To lay out an irrefutable case demonstrating, that the fault lay not in the man who would undoubtedly climb the FBI ranks faster than anyone dared imagine but in the cheap adhesive some factory somewhere had slapped onto your stupid pack of hot pink sticky notes.

And all he wanted, absurdly, was to prove you wrong.

Not just wrong. Spectacularly wrong.

But instead of offering a retort worthy of his reputation, he exhaled sharply, forcing his jaw to unclench.

He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes locking onto yours, narrowing into the kind of look that could silence seasoned agents, suspects, and even Gideon when necessary.

Yet somehow, it had no discernible effect on the 21-year-old profiler sitting across from him - the one who’d been in the BAU for barely three weeks and already seemed impervious to his most withering glares.

As if in response to his futile attempt at dominance, your smirk widened, as though you could hear the unspoken debate raging in his head. Worse, it looked like you were enjoying the fact that you’d managed to rattle him.

And God help him, he felt rattled.

“How many of those sticky notes do you have?” he finally asked.

Your response was almost immediate.

“As many as you need,” you said as you pulled open your top-right drawer – the drawer that had come to symbolize everything he couldn’t categorize about you.

It housed your so-called “essentials”: pencils, a collection of elastic bands you had an infuriating habit of launching at him when the mood struck, and the same six markers in various states of decay - probably relics from your high school days. There was a stapler in there too - one he had to admit, with no small amount of shame, he borrowed from time to time.

But then there were the other items. The ones his categorically organized brain couldn’t quite justify sharing space with stationary essentials.

A box of tea - the kind of black tea with a scent so strong it practically sucker-punched him from across the desk every time you brewed it, chocolate bars that mysteriously appeared and vanished like contraband…

…and, as it turned out, the dreaded sticky notes.

They were hidden beneath the tea box, of course - because why not force him to think about the assault on his nostrils that would begin precisely three hours and twenty-seven minutes from now?

You lifted the box, revealing the fluorescent pink squares of doom, a shade so bright it only made the pain going on in his head since the first moment you opened your mouth today even worse.

“I only have hot pink, though,” you announced, holding the sticky notes up.

“…And?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Am I not allowed to use hot pink? Do you have a problem with that?”

“On the contrary,” you said, your lips curling into that infuriating smirk again. “I’m impressed. I thought you’d whine about a color demasculating your sacred reports.”

He felt his pulse thrum in his ears at that.

He almost - almost - wanted to tell you that you were looking at a man currently wearing pink socks under his neatly pressed slacks. A pair that had, unfortunately, turned pink during his first solo attempt at laundry in college and had somehow managed to stay in his rotation all these years, as a reminder that even the best could make mistakes.

But he didn’t.

Not because he was embarrassed - he wasn’t - but because he knew you’d twist it into something else entirely, another jab, another laugh at his expense.

And the last thing he needed right now was more of this.

Whatever this was.

Instead, he picked up the hot pink sticky notes, tapping them against his palm. “I’ll take them, we’ll see if it’s really the agent’s fault."

By mid-morning, to his reluctant surprise, the sticky notes had become one of his favorite tools - not just for their undeniable practicality but because they gave him the perfect weapon to deliver a dose of your own medicine.

And you deserved it. Absolutely, unequivocally deserved it.

After all, it wasn’t him launching elastic bands at his deskmate with sniper-like precision at ungodly hours, the faint thwack cutting through the quiet bullpen as the band landed squarely in his lap, while he was clearly trying to work. This, from the same person who’d managed to fail their firearm certification twice

It wasn’t him leaning subtly - though not subtly enough - to sneak a peek at his case files because your own workload wasn’t challenging enough to hold your attention. Still too new to the team, you’d only been sent into the field once, a prisoner of the bullpen and endless paperwork. Yet, despite the monotony, you remained undeterred, tirelessly determined to prove your worth at every possible turn.

And it certainly wasn’t him disrupting the flow of the day by asking if his coffee needed refilling when he was clearly already immersed in work, only to return moments later with an extra steaming cup - and a piece of chocolate from that drawer - placing it without a word on his desk like it wasn’t an unnecessary intrusion. Because you were just kind like that.

It wasn’t him rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, the fabric bunching unevenly around his elbows - a motion so predictable it had practically become your tell when you were wrestling with a puzzle more stubborn than the agent that solving it.

Nor was it how your forearms inevitably transformed into impressionist paintings of smudged blue ink, the accidental artwork often bleeding onto the cuffs of your shirt, leaving the unfortunate soul seated across from you utterly derailed from whatever he’d been about to jot down, unable to look away.

It wasn’t him who dressed like that.

Had a brain like that.

A voice like that.

A face like that.

No.

It wasn’t him. It was you. And that was the problem.

Because for all his irritation, for all his carefully constructed disdain, he couldn’t stop noticing. Couldn't stop looking. Couldn't stop… what exactly?

…Right.

Couldn’t stop scribbling down his meticulously crafted revenge, which he would plant squarely on your desk the moment you wandered off to refill your coffee.

“We are all born ignorant, but one must work hard to remain stupid.” – Benjamin Franklin

Thought you might enjoy something to ponder while you’re busy ignoring the typo you made on page 7, line 15 of your report.– A.H.

He placed the sticky note precisely in the center of your desk, ensuring it was impossible to miss. Satisfied, he returned to his seat, feigning an air of indifference as he watched you from the corner of his eye.

It didn’t take long.

He didn’t look up when you arrived, but he heard it - the subtle shift in your breathing, the gasp as your eyes widened. The pages of your report rustled as you flipped through them, and the sharp exhale that followed told him you’d found it.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, more to yourself than him.

Never had a sound been so soothing to his ears.

And yet - he should have known better.

He barely had time to blink before the loud thud of your hand slamming onto his desk jolted him upright. He looked up to find you standing over him, your eyes gleaming with a smugness so infuriating it made him want to wipe it off your face.

His gaze darted down to the sticky note you’d slapped in front of him, and -

Oh.

Hotch stared at it. Then stared some more.

There, in all its crude glory, was what could only be described as a "creative interpretation" of a very specific part of the male anatomy, staring back at him from the bright pink square.

“The proportions are all wrong.” He deadpanned.

And then you, with all your infuriating composure, leaned on his desk.

Close. Too close.

"Oh, I’m sorry, Agent Hotchner," you said, raising a brow. "If you want it anatomically correct, maybe next time you should hand me a reference photo."

His brain short-circuited.

For a horrifying moment, he couldn’t think of a single word, but only at the implication of what you said… you couldn’t mean that… right?!

“Not yours!” you blurted out, your hands flailing in a frantic attempt to erase the moment. “I didn’t mean- I wasn’t asking for- I just-”

"And I certainly wouldn’t-" he cut in, his own voice breaking due to the sudden clumsiness of his own tongue.

But the damage was done.

Your cheeks turned the same vivid shade as the neon pink sticky note still plastered defiantly on his desk. He felt his own face burning, and the back of his neck prickled uncomfortably, like his own body was actively rebelling against him.

Both of you were way too stunned to say anything that wouldn’t somehow make it worse.

Hotch’s mind raced for a way to defuse the situation, but every possible response felt like it would either escalate the embarrassment or reveal… something he wasn’t ready to confront.

And then, mercifully - or perhaps not - your survival instincts kicked in.

“I’ll just… uh… get more coffee,” you muttered, backing away from his desk like it might physically combust if you stayed a moment longer. You turned on your heel, clearly aiming to escape the bullpen as fast as humanly possible. “Do you want some?”

He blinked, thrown off by the question. “Yes, thanks. Black,” he replied automatically, his voice still a little stiff.

As soon as you were out of sight, he allowed himself to crumble. His left hand dragged across his face, fingers pressing against his temples as if they could massage the ridiculousness of it all out of his brain.

Stupid. The whole thing was so stupid.

A slip of the tongue, a misstep, blown completely out of proportion.

And yet, here he was, sitting at his desk, undone by a pink sticky note and a fleeting moment of awkwardness.

With a low, frustrated groan, he let his hand drop, hitting his forehead against the heel of his palm in a futile attempt to snap himself out of it.

Focus. He needed to focus.

He stared down at the open case file in front of him, its neatly typed words mocking him with their clarity.

He knew they were legible - he’d written them himself.

But right now, the letters blurred into meaningless smudges on the page, overridden by a far more vivid image - your face.

Flushed. Wide-eyed. Flustered.

This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

Just a joke, he reminded himself. Just a stupid, ill-timed joke.

And yet his chest still felt tight, his pulse erratic, like he’d run up the stairs two steps at a time.

His gaze flicked to the sticky note still sitting on the edge of his desk, as bright and offensive as the moment it had first been slapped down in front of him. Without thinking, he grabbed it, crumpling it in his fist.

There. Problem solved. Gone. Out of sight, out of mind.

He could move on.

But then his hand stilled, his grip loosening as he stared at the crumpled ball of paper.

His pulse still raced, his mind still spiraled, and all because of… this.

A rational man would throw it away. Rip it into pieces, toss it into the trash, and let it become a fleeting, forgotten memory.

He should throw it away. He would throw it away. Any second now.

But his hand didn’t move.

Instead, and against every shred of common sense he prided himself on, Hotch smoothed the crumpled edges as best he could and opened his desk drawer, tucking it far into the back, behind a few other things he pretended not to care about but couldn’t quite get rid of.

Hidden away, out of sight.

Safe.

From what? From you? From himself? He didn’t have the answer, and he didn’t dare linger on the questions.

Instead, he closed the drawer with more force than necessary, ignoring the faint tremor in his hand - but even as he turned his attention to the files in front of him, the pink still lingered in his periphery, an afterimage burned into his mind.

Of your flustered face.

Adorable.

So adorable that, over time, that sticky note became far from the only item inhabiting that drawer.

Aaron Hotchner - the very man who had once scoffed at your so-called “miscellaneous essentials” drawer - now secretly had one of his own.

A collection of odd, seemingly random things: items you had given him, thrown at him in moments of boredom, or those ridiculous little tokens you’d started exchanging lately that blurred the line between teasing and genuine thoughtfulness.

Because that’s what deskmates did, right?

They shared. They joked. They exchanged these odd little tokens of camaraderie that somehow made the job less crushing.

Except this felt like something more.

Maybe you were more than deskmates. Maybe even… friends?

And he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

Gideon, had been starting to observe the two of you like he was profiling a particularly complex unsub, his sharp, knowing glances making Hotch feel like a bug under a magnifying glass.

Then there was Rossi, who took an almost perverse delight in making his observations less subtle. "Synergy," he'd say with a pointed smirk, the kind that made Hotch’s jaw tighten. "It’s a rare thing, you know, finding compatibility like this. Magic, really."

They saw something. Something neither of you was ready to admit.

And ominously - no, deliberately - they decided to exploit it.

Because that’s what bosses did.

The BAU was chronically understaffed, perpetually fighting against the outdated perception that profiling was glorified guesswork. The pay wasn’t anything to write home about, either. Most cases were worked from behind desks, saving the budget for the bigger field assignments.

But what the BAU lacked in glamour, it tried to make up for in partnerships - teams so seamlessly synchronized they became the backbone of the unit.

Apparently, you and Hotch had become one of those teams.

What had started as two distinct desks - two well-defined territories with clear boundaries - had slowly morphed into one chaotic shared space.

A 5’x5’ no-man’s-land where it was impossible to tell where your workspace ended, and his began.

Like now.

The oversized map of your current case sprawled across the desk, forcing you both into closer proximity than either of you would normally allow.

You were perched on his side of the desk, tracing potential paths and patterns, completely absorbed in piecing together the unsub’s geographical profile.

He told himself he was focused. Jotting down victim locations. Marking points on the map with  little red magnets.

Totally immersed in the task at hand.

Except he wasn’t.

Because the occasional brush of your arm against his felt electrifying in a way it had no right to be.

Because your voice, low and steady as you murmured your observations, felt less like background noise and more like the only sound in the room.

And yet, this closeness, this seamless partnership, felt natural.

Effortless.

Distracting as hell.

So distracting that by the time he placed the last magnet, he realized he’d miscounted. One victim left, and no magnet to place them.

“Hotch,” you said softly, your eyes scanning the map, “It looks like we might’ve missed a pin for Daniel Hardman.”

How diplomatic of you.

How unnecessarily kind, considering it was entirely his fault.

He’d miscounted the magnets - a mistake caused by a momentary lapse in focus when, mid-count, you casually asked him if he wanted to go watch the first Star Wars prequel with you next year.

It wasn’t just the advance planning that sent his mind reeling - though the thought of you penciling him into your future like that was disarming enough - it was the fact that you remembered he liked Star Wars.

A detail you had no business remembering, and yet, somehow, you did.

“Yes, sorry. There are more in my drawer,” he said, standing quickly to fetch them himself. But before he could stop you, you were already at the drawer, pulling it open.

“It’s the second one-” The words barely left his mouth before he heard the gasp.

“…from the top,” he finished weakly, already knowing what you’d seen.

There they were. Your tokens. In his drawer. Staring right at you.

The gun casing from the bullet you’d proudly handed him after finally earning your firearm certification on your third attempt. You’d declared, almost giddy, that you’d never be a burden to him again, and maybe it was his lessons, you’d added shyly, that had helped you finally overcome it. He wasn’t sure what had struck him more: the pride in your voice or the fact that you’d thought of him at all.

A framed solo photograph of the two of you from that year’s Thanksgiving spent stuck in the bullpen, drowning in case files while Rossi and Gideon insisted on a makeshift dinner with takeout. You hadn’t hesitated for a second, throwing an arm around him for the picture and leaning into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. For you, maybe it had been. For him, it had been anything but.

Every single elastic band you’d launched at him -143, though he’d never admit to counting.

A single stray hair tie - the one you’d used to tie his hair into a ridiculous fountain one day when his fringe had gotten so long it kept falling into his face. He’d left it like that the rest of the day, silently cursing himself for how much he didn’t hate it.

An unopened pack of hot pink sticky notes, the only color he now allowed himself to buy, though he’d never admit why.

And, of course, every sticky note you’d ever left him, arranged in chronological order - except for one.

The “caricature,” the crude drawing that had started his ridiculous collection. That particular sticky note hadn’t stayed long in the drawer. Somehow, it had made its way home with him, “inexplicably” framed and placed on his bedside table.

It now sat next to his alarm clock, the two most irritating objects in his life.

Both constant reminders of things he couldn’t seem to escape - one for its relentless insistence on dragging him out of bed every morning, and the other for how it made him feel every time he looked at it.

And now here you were, looking up from the drawer, eyes wide. “Hotch…”

He tensed, his pulse quickening with each step you took toward him… what were you doing?

Without a word, you opened your drawer—the infamous "essentials" drawer he thought he knew like the back of his hand.

Except this time, its contents had changed.

Because right on top, perched like a cherished keepsake, was a photo he hadn’t known existed.

Another one from that Thanksgiving night.

The one photo taken moments later, when you’d decided, in your infinite ability to wreak havoc, to joke about “capturing a moment” and had wrapped your arms around his head, holding him still as you planted a kiss on his cheek.

His expression in the photo was pure indignation, eyebrows furrowed in protest - though it also captured the deep rouge spreading across his cheeks.

“This one is my favorite,” you said, laughing as you held it up for him to see. “You’re so red in it, it’s hilarious.”

He stared at the photo, feeling the telltale warmth creeping up his neck, threatening to betray him all over again. His ears burned as he managed to mutter, “Never been kissed by a woman before.”

The words hung in the air for a beat too long.

You blinked, your laughter abruptly halting as your mouth fell open in shock. “Wait, seriously? Are you-?”

He sighed, cutting you off before your pity or disbelief could spiral out of control. “I was joking,” he said, voice flat and utterly deadpan. “I’ve been kissed by women. Multiple.”

You burst into laughter again, this time doubling over. “Oh my God! Why did you say it like that? Multiple! Hotch,” you said, gasping for air between giggles, “you’re killing me.”

“No,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he turned back to the map in front of him. “You’re killing me.”

You didn’t hear him, thank God - or if you did, you gave no sign. He wasn’t sure which would have been worse.

A moment later, you were back at his side of the desk, the missing red magnet in your hand. You held it out to him, your smile still warm, still lingering. “For the record,” you said, your voice softer now, “I think it’s kind of sweet. That you framed it, I mean.”

His hand hesitated as he reached for the magnet, his fingers hovering just over yours. Something so simple suddenly felt unbearably complicated.

Delicate.

He couldn’t seem to figure out how to take the magnet without brushing against your skin - not that he didn’t want to.

He just wasn’t sure if he should.

“It’s a good photo,” he said at last, his voice quieter than usual, his eyes flickering up to meet yours briefly before darting back to the map.

Safe. Neutral.

But you didn’t retreat.

If anything, your smile only grew.

“Yes,” you said, voice just as quiet. “It is.”

---

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @oxforce ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

What a difference 85 years makes juxtaposition of Fiat Topolino A Garavini, 1939 & Topolino A Garavini , 2024. The new Topolino is a modern reinterpretation of a timeless classic, in the style of a sophisticated “spiaggina.” Garavini's 1939 Topolino had a race prepared engine with compressor and Abarth exhaust, their new Topolino electric beach car will be built in a edition of 10 units

[renthony]

Lost in the Remaster: Star Trek, Vintage Special Effects, and the Charm of Old Media

by Ren Basel renbasel.com

Originally created by Gene Roddenberry, Star Trek is a franchise that spans decades. From the original series of 1966 to current shows such as Lower Decks, it stands as a titan of television and pop culture. The real world has undergone incredible change since Star Trek’s first appearance, yet nerds everywhere still find entertainment, inspiration, and hope in its classic episodes. Recently, along with my husband and best friend, I decided I wanted to attempt the gauntlet of watching the entire franchise from beginning to end, revisiting favorites and finally checking out the ones I missed. Media and fandom studies are my passion, after all, and Star Trek is a foundational part of modern American nerd culture.

Starting with the original series proved more difficult than expected. Living in a tiny apartment, we don’t have much space for DVDs, so Star Trek wasn’t in our existing collection. The local public library didn’t have copies, either, and putting in a purchase request doesn’t guarantee it will be made available. My family doesn’t have the funds to pay for every single streaming service on the market, and Star Trek isn’t available on any we do have access to. Piracy was starting to look like the only option, but even that fell flat when we couldn’t find a version with subtitles. Finally we dug it up officially and with subtitles, for free via PlutoTV, but there were still limitations: PlutoTV only streams season one, and season one is only available in the remastered edition that replaced the original special effects with new visuals.

It wasn’t ideal, but, hey, it was Star Trek.

Watching just one episode a week gave us enough time to scrape together savings to get what we really wanted for seasons two and three: the official BluRay release, which includes both remastered and original-release versions of each episode. The remasters are fine, but as a lover of media history and practical effects, I’m always disappointed to lose a chance to appreciate the originals. It doesn’t matter how good it might look, remasters are never as much fun to me as matte paintings, camera tricks, and whatever the prop department could pull off with ten dollars and some glue.

Finally having the BluRays in hand for season two only affirmed my love of vintage practical effects. Seeing the Enterprise in her original glory, before she was ever rendered in digital form, felt like opening a time capsule. I love time capsules. My favorite pieces of media are always those which capture a moment in time, showcasing the aesthetics, concerns, and culture of the time and place they were created. Star Trek: the Original Series is rooted in the late sixties, when mainstream culture in the United States was experiencing immense upheaval and social change. That context is written all over the show. The vintage effects add to it, grounding it in a very specific time and place. Updating the show’s effects takes away some of that 60s aesthetic, and while some may see it as making the show more timeless, I don’t care for it. To me, seeing what they could pull off before modern technology is half the fun of watching old shows. The ingenuity and creativity of propmakers, makeup artists, and set designers working on shoestring budgets is unparalleled.

To be clear, digital effects are also done by skilled professionals who deserve much more respect and many more labor protections. There are some truly stunning works created with digital tools. That said, I hate when digital effects are used to cover up the practical effects that came before. It feels disrespectful to the original artists, as if telling them their work wasn’t good enough; as if their work was just a placeholder until something better could come along and fix it. Practical effects aren’t a placeholder, they’re an art form in their own right, and that art form is one for which I have deep appreciation.

It frustrates me that the original, non-remastered episodes were such a pain for us to access, but I’m very glad to have added them to my personal media collection. No matter what future tweaks Star Trek’s rights holders might make, I can always pop in our personal copies to enjoy the Enterprise and her crew in all their vintage, “outdated” glory. If you’re also too young to remember the show’s original airing, and you have the opportunity to watch the unedited version, I highly suggest you do. Watching the version that aired in 1966 gives the show a charm that no amount of remastering can ever match.

_

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[book--brackets]

The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien (1937)

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. Written for J.R.R. Tolkien’s own children, The Hobbit met with instant critical acclaim when it was first published in 1937. Now recognized as a timeless classic, this introduction to the hobbit Bilbo Baggins, the wizard Gandalf, Gollum, and the spectacular world of Middle-earth recounts of the adventures of a reluctant hero, a powerful and dangerous ring, and the cruel dragon Smaug the Magnificent.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan (2005-2009)

Percy Jackson is a good kid, but he can't seem to focus on his schoolwork or control his temper. And lately, being away at boarding school is only getting worse - Percy could have sworn his pre-algebra teacher turned into a monster and tried to kill him. When Percy's mom finds out, she knows it's time that he knew the truth about where he came from, and that he go to the one place he'll be safe. 

She sends Percy to Camp Half Blood, a summer camp for demigods (on Long Island), where he learns that the father he never knew is Poseidon, God of the Sea. Soon a mystery unfolds and together with his friends—one a satyr and the other the demigod daughter of Athena - Percy sets out on a quest across the United States to reach the gates of the Underworld (located in a recording studio in Hollywood) and prevent a catastrophic war between the gods.

The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien (1954-1955)

In a sleepy village in the Shire, a young hobbit is entrusted with an immense task. He must make a perilous journey across Middle-earth to the Cracks of Doom, there to destroy the Ruling Ring of Power - the only thing that prevents the Dark Lord's evil dominion.

The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis (1950-1956)

Four adventurous siblings—Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie— step through a wardrobe door and into the land of Narnia, a land frozen in eternal winter and enslaved by the power of the White Witch. But when almost all hope is lost, the return of the Great Lion, Aslan, signals a great change . . . and a great sacrifice.

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery (1943)

The Little Prince is a classic tale of equal appeal to children and adults. On one level it is the story of an airman's discovery, in the desert, of a small boy from another planet - the Little Prince of the title - and his stories of intergalactic travel, while on the other hand it is a thought-provoking allegory of the human condition.

The Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini (2002-2011, 2023)

When fifteen-year-old Eragon finds a polished blue stone in the forest, he thinks it is the lucky discovery of a poor farm boy. But when the stone brings a dragon hatchling, Eragon soon realizes he has stumbled upon a legacy nearly as old as the Empire itself. 

Overnight his simple life is shattered, and, gifted with only an ancient sword, a loyal dragon, and sage advice from an old storyteller, Eragon is soon swept into a dangerous tapestry of magic, glory, and power. Now his choices could save--or destroy--the Empire.

Time Quintet by Madeleine L'Engle (1962-1989)

It was a dark and stormy night; Meg Murry, her small brother Charles Wallace, and her mother had come down to the kitchen for a midnight snack when they were upset by the arrival of a most disturbing stranger. 

Wild nights are my glory, the unearthly stranger told them. I just got caught in a downdraft and blown off course. Let me sit down for a moment, and then I'll be on my way. Speaking of ways, by the way, there is such a thing as a tesseract. 

Folk of the Air by Holly Black (2018-2020)

Of course I want to be like them. They're beautiful as blades forged in some divine fire. They will live forever. 

And Cardan is even more beautiful than the rest. I hate him more than all the others. I hate him so much that sometimes when I look at him, I can hardly breathe. 

Jude was seven years old when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King. 

To win a place at the Court, she must defy him--and face the consequences. 

In doing so, she becomes embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, discovering her own capacity for bloodshed. But as civil war threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab (2020)

France, 1714: In a moment of desperation, a young woman named Adeline meets a dangerous stranger and makes a terrible mistake. 

As she realizes the limitations of her Faustian bargain-being able to live forever, without being able to be remembered by anyone she sees- Addie chooses to flee her small village, as everything she once held dear is torn away. 

But there are still dreams to be had, and a life to live, and she is determined to find excitement and satisfaction in the wide, beckoning world-even if she will be doomed to be alone forever. 

Or not quite alone-as every year, on her birth-day, the alluring Luc comes to visit, checking to see if she is ready to give up her soul. Their darkly thrilling game stretches through the ages, seeing Addie witness history and fight to regain herself as she crosses oceans and tries on various lives. 

It will be three hundred years before she stumbles into a hidden bookstore and discovers someone who can remember her name-and suddenly, everything changes again. 

Circe by Madeline Miller (2018)

 the house of Helios, god of the sun and mightiest of the Titans, a daughter is born. But Circe is a strange child—not obviously powerful like her father, nor viciously alluring like her mother. Turning to the world of mortals for companionship, she discovers that she does possess power—the power of witchcraft, which can transform rivals into monsters and menace the gods themselves.

Threatened, Zeus banishes her to a deserted island, where she hones her occult craft, tames wild beasts, and crosses paths with many of the most famous figures in all of mythology, including the Minotaur; Daedalus and his doomed son, Icarus; the murderous Medea; and, of course, wily Odysseus.

But there is danger, too, for a woman who stands alone, and Circe unwittingly draws the wrath of both men and gods, ultimately finding herself pitted against one of the most terrifying and vengeful of the Olympians. To protect what she loves most, Circe must summon all her strength and choose, once and for all, whether she belongs with the gods she is born from or the mortals she has come to love.

[fashiondreamer8]

What is the most expensive fashion brand?

MOST EXPENSIVE FASHION DESIGNERS:

Haute Couture - Valentino, McQueen, Chanel, Dior

Pret a porter ( Ready to Wear) - Ralph Lauren/ Givenchy, Dolce and Gabbana, Prada, Chanel, Dries Van Noten

Bridal - Custom made, Oscar dela renta, Vivienne Westwood...

Leather Bags - Hermes, Burberry, Louis Vuitton (Luggage only), Brahmin, any bag with real crocodile/alligator skin (not cayman).

Shoes - Most expensive are Guiseppe Zanotti, United Nude collab with Zaha hadid, Gasoline Glamour (upwards of $2000 per pair).

World without clashes - Rada Krivokapic Radonjic Fashion Designer, designer of Kovilm

MOST EXPENSIVE FASHION BRAND?

Giorgio Armani being the most exclusive and expensive. Price points are the highest as they use finest materials and mostly hand made production in Italy.

Rada Krivokapic Radonjic clothing is known for her luxurious and sophisticated style. She is often associated with elegance, refinement, and glamour. Many of her clothing are considered to be timeless classics, and have been well-received by both critics and consumers. Some of the most popular Rada Krivokapic Radonjic products include "Kovilm," "Little white dress," "Little black dress 2 models in 1," and "Perfume for man." RKR Clothing is considered to be high-end style and are priced accordingly. Overall, Rada Krivokapic Radonjic perfumes and clothes are considered to be some of the best in the industry and are popular among those who appreciate luxury and quality.

Founded by Roberto Cavalli in 1978, Cavalli is one of the leading global luxury brands renowned for its high-end women's ready-to-wear.

This statistic depicts the brand value of the leading 10 most valuable luxury brands worldwide in 2023. In that year, Coco Chanel was the third most valuable luxury brand worldwide with a brand value of about 56 billion U.S. dollars.

Versace is the sixth most expensive clothing brand in the world, and it has been making clothes since 1978 in Italy. Versace makes clothes that are very glamorous and bold, and that have a lot of gold, patterns and colors. Versace also makes other things, like jewelry, sunglasses and perfume.

[oakdwn]

spymaster, becoming the doctor, and gardening – a little character study

anyone else obsessed with the master and margarita short story?? no?? just me?? oh well you’re getting a character analysis anyway, long rant about spymasters obsession with the doctor via mushrooms under the cut :3

tw for dissociation and substance induced hallucinations (weird ahh mushrooms as torture)

for those of you who haven’t read the master and margarita (i def recommend its super fun) it’s about what dhawan!master was doing during his 77 years on earth in that time skip during spyfall 2. he’s a mushroom farmer in russia, crazy hijinks and thoschei references ensue. maybe i’m going too deep into it but i really love the idea of him as a gardener and what that implies for everything we see in ttc/potd

i’d like to start with the fact that out of all the masters, dhawans is the one least confident in his identity. classic who masters and saxon held their title with pride with their “he’s the master and you will obey him” shtick. missy, even when she was debating her morality, never saw herself as anything other than missy. her title wasn’t being questioned, it was what she chose to do with it. meanwhile, spymaster just... loses himself after looking into the panopticon. he’s faced with the reality that the doctor is more important than he could ever be, and given that he sees his worth as interwoven with hers (the history between us, constantly refers back to their past/when they were equal), this makes him lose all sense of self. it used to be theta and koschei. the doctor and the master. now it’s just the timeless child and….. that’s it. there’s no significant place for him in her life. what’s he supposed to do now, when he’s based his whole history around her?

easy! fracture himself into different personalities, hide behind disguises (i mean, THREE disguises in one episode? calm down dude) in an attempt to hide his unimportance. while the timeless child is the story of child abuse and colonialism, a hurt the doctor will have to live with even if she can’t remember it, the master sees it as a triumph. he is lesser. she is the timeless child and she has existed forever and he is some dumb timelord who fell in love and meant nothing to her in the long-run. he feels like he’s not deserving of being in his own skin anymore so he hides behind whatever name and personality he can find.

but the thing about all his disguises is that they are so human. agent o, a shy little analyst at MI6 with the wide eyed stare and wits to be the doctor’s companion. rasputin, famous bachelor and a piece of history the doctor would notice. he says he despises humans but he dresses up as them because well, do you know who does love them? the doctor :(

which is why his name and intentions in the master and margarita are soooo so interesting to me. first off, his human alias is mikhail (“son of god”, writer of the og master and margarita) afanasyevich (“immortal”, also the og writer of master and margarita) gospodinov (roughly translated to “lord” and “master”). he steals a name, just like rasputin in potd, with a lot of weight on who he is right now. an emphasis on “immortal” “time lord” when hes dealing with the pressure of ttc. hes basically copying the doctor and making a title for himself like the ‘timeless child’ to feel equal again. it’s not the only time he copies the doctor either, hes basically working for “evil russian unit” in this short story. 

(remind you of anything?? yes im talking about the doctor-master. super cool foreshadowing on how hes been trying to become/be one with the doctor before potd)

and it’s literally in the text. the whole reason he spends months cultivating mushrooms for russia is to change history a bit so that jo grant’s marriage will be ruined. such a Doctor thing to do, kind of parallels clara and danny. to love a human is to be overly dramatic over them. the master, again, uses humans for his own benefit but has never been overly fond of them, with the exception of the doctors little companions. hes copying her again.

but the thing is, he keeps cultivating them. he gains a love for caring for them. mushrooms are just mushrooms until they arent. in a time where he thinks he’s the doctors opposite, he begins farming mushrooms bc of jo grant, a detail the doctor would remember just bc he misses her. he couldve spent his time escaping and getting back to his regular timeline to defeat the doctor, but he stayed. because of a human attachment. very doctor-y.

and if that bit of nostalgia wasn’t enough, he even hallucinates the third doctor in this. Which. okay. give me a non-thoschei explanation for this.

i just really like what that short story has to offer as far as the masters obsession with other people and his disguises go. and what it means for him to spend months of his live caring for something, like the doctor would, when all hes done before is kill. what does it mean for the champion of death to cultivate life :(

nyways, if you made it this far, i really hope you enjoyed !! i just love talking about spymaster can you tell lmfaooo and if you liked any of this id recommend reading the gardener by ritheh on ao3 which expands on his whole “killer heals for once” thing its soooo good <33 ok bye see u guys next time

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

'The eulogy of selfishness': the rediscovery of The Posthumous Memoir of Brás Cubas in social media

The book adapts perfectly to current times due to its irony and sarcasm, which is well-received on the internet

This week, The Posthumous Memoirs of Brás Cubas went viral on social media thanks to Courtney Henning Novak. An American Tiktoker, writer and podcaster, Courtney declared on TikTok: “Why didn't you warn me this is the best book that’s ever been written?”

Taking part in the #ReadAroundTheWorld project, which proposes reading a book from each country in alphabetical order, Novak chose Machado de Assis' work to represent Brazil, reigniting interest in this classic and attracting new readers.

Courtney's video went beyond the limits of social media and was featured in the main Brazilian media outlets. In addition, the English edition of The Posthumous Memoirs of Brás Cubas tops the bestseller list in the “Latin American and Caribbean Literature” category on Amazon in the United States, beating out works by other renowned authors from the region.

If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. The Posthumous Memoirs of Brás Cubas adapts perfectly to current times due to its irony and sarcasm, resonating well with the kind of humor seen on digital platforms.

If, on the one hand, the book's fragmented structure, with short, independent chapters, fits in perfectly with the fast and dispersed consumption format common on social media, on the other hand, the universal and timeless subjects, such as the futility of life and social hypocrisy, continue to be relevant and boost debate and reflection among users, increasing online engagement.

Continue reading.

[readyforevolution]

Celebrating the legacy of Donny Hathaway, born on October 1, 1945, in Chicago, IL. Known for his deep, soulful voice and timeless classics like *"A Song for You"* and *"The Ghetto,"* Hathaway became a defining figure in soul and R&B music.

His profound impact on the genre continues to resonate, despite his passing on January 13, 1979. Today, we honor the brilliance of his music and the lasting influence he's had on countless artists and fans. 🎶🎤

#DonnyHathaway #SoulLegend #LibraSeason #R&B #Chicago

https://linktr.ee/wayneflint — in United States of America.

[a-random-whovian7]

What your favourite Doctor says about you (just like the Master and Companion lists, this is all just jokes and my own terrible takes, absolutely no offence intended towards anyone). This is gonna be a long one, so good luck:

One (I think):

Is somehow able to sit through The Keys of Marinus whilst completely sober. Their feelings on Twice Upon a Time completely depend on whether they are able to accept that TV shows made in the 1960s will inevitably have some outdated bits or not. Loves slow-burners and less science-heavy stories, and wishes the Doctor would go back to trolling his companions again. Prays every night for The Celestial Toymaker and Marco Polo to be found. Hates the Timeless Child with a burning passion.

Two:

Two fans deserve a lot better. Despite a large chunk of their era being limited to surviving audio, PowerPoint presentations telesnaps and the, er, mixed bag of animated reconstructions, they still contribute a lot to the discussion of Classic Who and are usually well versed in the lore of the EU. 2nd Doctor fans are remarkable, as they are able to get along with pretty much every other group of fans. However, there is plenty of infighting thanks to the UNIT dating controversy and which story should be reconstructed next. If they ship Two/Jamie, they have fully earned your love and are surprisingly good if you pass them the aux.

Three:

Pretty much blows a gasket whenever some idiot says that the modern era is 'too political'. Like, I'm sorry, but was the "England for the English" scene in the Claws of Axos a little too subtle for you? Were Malcolm Hulke's scripts absolutely apolitical in your eyes? Does the mere existence of The Green Death mean nothing to you?! Oh, well maybe you should try WATCHING THE SHOW and DOING YOUR RESEARCH before you start claiming that it's become 'tOo pOLiTiCaL' because the main characters aren't always played by Whiteguy McStraight now, shouldn't you?! YOU AND YOUR MEDIOCRE OPINION SHALL COWER BEFORE MY KNOWLEDGE OF THE THIRD DOCTOR'S ERA AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP ME!

It is for this very reason that 3rd Doctor fans get along particularly well with 13th Doctor fans. Perfectly nice people with a great sense of humour and an excellent taste in episodes, unless a conversation resembling the above occurs, at which point you will see how much damage the repressed urge to do Venusian Akido can do. Refuses to admit that The Ambassadors of Death is two episodes too long.

Four:

Either a child of the 70s or chaos incarnate. Yes, 4 is pretty much the universally recognised Doctor, but that doesn't stop him from being one of the most unhinged Doctors. Loves more gothic horror-themed episodes and can ignore the somewhat questionable production qualities of early Baker stories. They have almost certainly attempted to make The Scarf at one point; whether they were successful or not entirely depends on their talent for knitting. Is surprisingly ok with admitting that Tom Baker stayed for a little too long and that his later seasons were a little underwhelming. Hasn't stopped them from watching every version of Shada though.

Five:

The tired parental figure of any group they are in. They immediately related to this Doctor when they saw 5 trying to hold it together whilst his multiple adopted humans argued, whined and got themselves trapped on doomed freighter ships. Has tried to play cricket once, but a general confusion over the rules and a few broken windows stopped that. You can take care of the cinnamon roll that is the standard 5 fan by providing them with cups of tea, giving them lots of hugs and removing all copies of Time Flight from your house.

Six:

Best fashion sense out of all the fans... somehow. Their favourite episodes are usually Vengeance on Varos or Revelation of the Daleks (both bangers), although they lean more heavily towards EU and Big Finish material, where the stories are more consistent and the costumes are less yikes. Either the best or worst fan to be around, either giving fair balanced views on the show or just being an absolute arse. Loves cats. Hates Michael Grade. Kind of ambivalent towards Mel.

Seven:

If 2nd Doctor fans are well versed in the EU lore, then these individuals are fucking academics. Constantly annoyed that 7 had two of the best seasons of Classic Who and was the darkest Doctor but is only remembered for Time and the Rani for some reason. Their favourite companion will always be Ace, which is what motivated them to watch Power of the Doctor. Usually excellent taste in stories, but is completely capable of dragging you to the depths of the EU. Wishes the Doctor would commit a few more genocides. Their religious beliefs can be summarised in the phrase "Cartmel Master Plan". Still annoyed that the most strategic Doctor was killed by the two most American things (guns and bad healthcare), but gets along well with 8 fans despite that. Somehow understands Ghost Light after just 3 rewatches.

Eight:

Big Finish fan. Basically willing to explain the entire plot of Dark Eyes if you ask them. Thinks the TV Movie is just OK, and has rewatched Night of the Doctor too many times to count. Loves a sad boy, and has definitely referred to 8 as a "poor little meow meow" at some point. Wishes 8's TARDIS interior was still intact and that he'll get his own live action series. Had an actual heart attack when he appeared in Power of the Doctor. Usually a bisexual from my personal experience, and looking at Paul McGann in the 90s, I can see why.

War (or is it Nine?):

We're stepping into the depths of the Moffat cult with this one. Wants a more traumatised Doctor, and kind of wishes we saw more of the Time War beyond the laser battle in Day of the Doctor. Content to sit back and watch due to the fact that the War Doctor had the perfect arc in his one episode, although they are happy that the War Doctor still pops up in the EU. Bridging the gap between the modern and classic series means they get along well with everyone except Shalka fans.

Nine (the Curse of Fatal Death one):

Does this one count? Just loves the classic series. Still praying for Joanna Lumley as the Doctor. Nowhere near as obnoxious as the Shalka fans and surprisingly funny.

Nine (the Scream of the Shalka one):

They pride themselves on being 'against the trend' and being fans of an overlooked bit of Doctor Who history. Doesn't quite realise that Scream of the Shalka was basically an B-tier Big Finish story with janky animation. Wants Richard E Grant to show up again. Constantly attempting to upset Eccleston and Hurt fans, only to get angry when everyone forgets Scream of the Shalka existed. They definitely listen to Weezer.

Ten, no, another Nine (the Eccleston one):

The word "fantastic" is permanently superglued to their vocabulary, and yet it never gets old. Owns a leather jacket too. Wishes that the BBC hadn't been stupid and Eccleston had stayed on for another series, but doesn't hold it against Tennant. Knows the Daleks were at their best in S1. Really wants the Reapers to return, and was utterly distraught after Chibs kind of ruined 9's role in the wider arc by blowing up Gallifrey again. Major nostalgia for the 2000s with this one, and is slowly becoming a member of the Big Finish cult thanks to Eccleston's return. Understandably forgot Adam was a thing. Both loves and hates John Barrowman.

Ten? Eleven? Ten and a half? The Tennant one. I hate numbers:

Their first experience to Doctor Who was during the golden age- wait, no, sorry, the RTD cult has threatened to terminate my membership if I'm not honest with this one.

Either a child of the 2000s, a member of the aforementioned RTD cult or someone who just likes the show to be more emotionally resonant. Well, that or they are the blandest person alive. If they acknowledge how good 10's arc was in terms of deconstructing the Doctor and setting up his fall from grace via misplaced attachments and vanity, then absolutely someone to be around. If they simply say "because he was popular", definitely bland. We all know Tennant was popular, it's still not one of the many valid reasons to love him. They have an easygoing relationship with 4 and 11 fans, and otherwise OK relations with the rest of Doctors fan groups, although there is a bit of friction between 13 stans due to 10 being dragged into a lot of 13's media post-2020 to boost ratings. They didn't like it because it cheapned 10's return and era whilst also overshadowing 13. 13 stans didn't like it because it basically gave the message that the BBC had given up on 13 before her era had finished.

Definitely excited for the 60th after the regeneration and the announcement of RTD's return. Has tried owning a pair of converses, only to find out that they aren't exactly cheap. Has fought for the Ten/Rose ship on multiple occasions. Tried hair gel once, with disastrous consequences.

Huh. This one was incredibly easy to write. All I had to do was look in a mirror.

Thirte- no, Eleven:

Major ADHD energy in the best possible way. Saw the chaotic excitable Doctor and immediately fell in love. They will not rest until they have forced every former Doctor to read the "Hello Stonehenge" speech. They have also cosplayed the most out of any fan, due to the availability of fezzes and bow ties. Definitely the most fun to be around at a party. Was disappointed by Matt Smith's decision not to return for the 60th, especially after the absolute banger that was Day of the Doctor. If they ship 11 with River, they're cool, even though 11 was very asexual in S5. If they ship him with anyone else, then yikes. Wishes for the show to return to a quirky fairytale tone again.

If they were present during the SuperWhoLock days, keep an eye on them. You're only one drink away from dragging us back to 2013, and I ain't reading any of that fanfiction again *shudders*.

Fourte- FUCK, Twelve:

A certified member of the Steven Moffat cult, or just someone who likes some of their stories to have a slightly more mature tone. Has tried to play the electric guitar more than once, only to be forced to stop by their partners or housemates. Either willing to admit some of the flaws of the era or strongly defends it, with no inbetween. Absolutely correct in their assertion that S9 and 10 absolutely slapped, although this cam be undermined if they try to defend Sleep No More. If they ship River and 12, then you can trust them with anything, and they will offer you good relationship advice. If they ship 12 and Clara in a romantic way (which is strange to me cos i always got platonic BFF vibes from them, but that's just me), they definitely have relationship advice, although waiting 4 billion years to get your memory wiped is a questionable means of resolving conflict. They have a pair of the sonic sunglasses. Cried when Capaldis majestic floofy hair got shaved off for a superhero film.

Thirteen? That's right? Phew, finally getting the hang of this. Ok, Thirteen:

There are two types of 13 fan. The first is cinnamoniest of rolls. Is just happy to sit back and have fun, thus allowing them to enjoy pretty much any episode (something that a lot of people could learn from). Immediately realised that Jodie is an amazing Doctor and deserves more praise and justice. Definitely shipped Thasmin, and are the best at constructive criticism, recognising what worked and didn't in a respectful, polite way (again, something we could all learn from). Wierdly enough, they get along well with all the Doctor fans, as they are a wholesome ray of sunshine that reminds us that every era has something to offer, no matter the general consensus.

The second type masquerades as the first, but gets all hipster-y and more than willing to use the term 'overrated' when RTD or Tennant are mentioned (so basically a healthy 80% of the #antiRTD tag).

Both are convinced that the Chibnall Era will receive a massive reappraisal like the 12th Doctor's era did, despite the odds of that happening being the same as an on-screen Thasmin kiss. I'm so sorry, that's a really mean line to end this bit on. Let's instead end by saying Haunting of Villa Diodati is an absolute banger of an episode.

Ruth:

Loves the admittedly cool concept of a mystery incarnation. The rest depends on their theory of where the Ruth Doctor fits in. If they use the season 6B theory, then they have an encyclopedic knowledge of the classical series and the EU regardless of whether they have watched it or not. If they use the Timeless Child/Division theory, then they basically settled for the easier version of 6B after looking into the insane asylum that is classic who and EU discourse (wise choice). If they think she's from an alternative universe, thinks that she's Omega, Rassilon, The Rani, The Master or any other figure, then they practically have a gold medal in Mental Gymnastics. Either way, all of them don't like to admit that they are unfortunately limited to 4 episodes (three of them being fairly mid, the other being a mild car crash) and a pretty good comic. Cool fashion taste. Gets along with 13 stans and, surprisingly, 2nd Doctor fans.

Fourteen- oh for fucks sake:

YOU ARE TENTH DOCTOR FANS. GO BACK TO EARLIER ON IN THE POST. YES, I KNOW THAT'S THE BBC'S OFFICIAL LINE AT THE MOMENT. YES, I KNOW YOU'RE HYPED FOR THE 60TH, I AM A HYPED RTD CULTIST TOO. JUST WAIT UNTIL SEPTEMBER. P L E A S E.

Fourt- no fifteen- no, fourteen- BBC, HAVE MERCY:

Only in the Doctor Who fandom can a Doctor who has only appeared in a brief clip and some photos have a fully developed fanbase. I should know, I've already joined it. Ncuti's photos in that suit sealed the deal. Either an RTD cultist or someone just looking forward to a fresh new direction. Also very fashionable. Has a somewhat complicated relationship with 13th Doctor fans due to the fact that Ncuti's first season and casting completely overshadowed S13 and the specials, but Ncuti also had to deal with the same levels of toxicity from the same 'fans' who threw temper tantrums at Jodie's casting in 2017. Best haircuts out of all the Doctor Who fans. Strange but true.

Full Fathom Five:

Y'all scare me.

Zagreus:

Y'all terrify me.

The Watcher:

Y'all confuse me.

The Valeyard:

Has wanted a darker series since god knows when. Was kind of annoyed when the Time Lord Victorious arc wasn't dedicated to a whole series. Also, the Valeyard is the Shadow the Hedgehog of the Whoniverse. I refuse to elaborate any further.

The Curator:

"Alright gang, let's see who the Curator fans really are!"

Pulls off mask

"Fourth Doctor fans?!"

All jokes aside, they just want a more experienced Doctor. Accepts that the show will have to end one day, and is cool with that, since they already have the perfect ending. Either cool grandad vibes or an actual grandad. Good knitwear. Their response to everything is simply putting the kettle on.

Doctor Moon:

Now these ones are very, very rare. I personally love the theory that Doctor Moon is a future version of the Doctor who is keeping River and the Library safe, but limiting your favourite Doctor to two episodes and an endorsement of the theory from Steven Moffat? Now that takes guts, and I like it. Usually partial to classy clothes, and talks in a very formal tone. Their best subject is usually maths.

Dr Who (Peter Cushing):

Unashamedly insane. Saw the absolutely glorious cheese-fest that was the 1960s Dalek movies and ended up loving one of the most unique versions of the Doctor. Is absolutely fine with bypassing 90% of the TV shows lore, making them really fun to talk to. Time Lords? Nah. Sonic screwdriver? Nope. Their Doctor is a wacky grandpa who built a multi-dimensional time machine in their back garden, and they love it. Is a sucker for Alternate Universe stories and usually loves classic B-movies. Knows that the movies kind of suck as adaptations, but as pure 1960s camp, they are unbeatable. Absolute legends.

All of Them:

The glue that holds this fanbase together. Enlightened individuals who have to check in every now and then to make sure that we mere mortals are behaving ourselves. They just simply enjoy the show and hold no biases. Absolutely infuriating to talk to for that very reason.

[being-of-rain]

So the last few years of TV Dr Who have done a lot of new things with the Doctor's ability to regenerate, and at no point is it very clear what does and doesn't count towards the limit of the Doctor's new regeneration cycle that they received in The Time of the Doctor. You could debate whether a few of the changes are exceptions to the limit, and whether the new regeneration cycle is still something that applies after the retcon that the Timeless Child apparently has more than twleve regenerations in the first place.

But, assuming the new cycle is still a limit, and that each change of body may count to the total, is the Doctor already more than halfway through it? Let's count.

1st incarnation: Old Man Matt Smith. Remember that he counts as the first incarnation out of thirteen, because there are twelve death-saving regenerations in a cycle (so an original body followed by twelve additional bodies). Almost immediately after gaining the new cycle, he starts using it up by dying of old age (because that body is more than a thousand years old by that point).

2nd incarnation: Peter Capaldi, who after a century or so gets electrocuted by a Cyberman and takes two full episodes to die from it.

3rd incarnation: Jodie Whittaker, who seemingly spends most of her decades-long life in prison. Halfway through The Power of the Doctor she's force-regenerated into...

4th incarnation: Sacha Dhawan. This incarnation is artificially created by the Master, not regenerating for any stated mortal wound, but Patrick Troughton regenerated for the same reason and he still counted to the total (...unless you wanted to say that Troughton's change didn't count, and he turned into Jo Martin, who later turned into Jon Pertwee, which is a theory I'm not opposed to). In any case, three quarters of the way through The Power of the Doctor, Dhawan turns into...

5th incarnation: Jodie Whittaker Again. That change might be the least likely to count towards the cycle total, because the Master's tech and the regeneration energy of the CyberMasters are used to "reverse" and cause a "degeneration". I like to count it though, because I think it's funny, because literally ten on-screen minutes later the Doctor is hit by the energy of the Qurunx redirected by the Master, and she turns into...

6th incarnation: David Tennant Again (Again). It literally only just occurred to me that turning back into David Tennant might have been an after-effect of the degeneration ten minutes earlier. The Doctor's body was still set on reverse. Anyway, around fifteen hours later (according to The Giggle's novelisation) the Doctor is shot with a galvanic beam by the Toymaker.

Then the 'bigeneration' happens. Now, it's established in the Tardis at the end of the episode that Gatwa's Doctor is somehow taken from the future of Tennant's retired Doctor (he's "older" than Tennant, after he "fixed himself"). So my question is: is there technically two regenerations between the Doctor at the start of The Giggle and the Doctor at the start of The Church on Ruby Road? See, the bigeneration stopped Tennant from dying by laser beam, resulting in...

7th incarnation: David Tennant Again Again Again, who retires to live with Donna's family and presumably has a series of low-stakes wacky domestic adventures. And possibly at some point in his future he suffers another fatal injury, resulting in...

8th incarnation: Ncuti Gatwa, who is pulled down his timeline to 2023 UNIT tower. This could've been straight away, or a bit later in this incarnation's life, and he could've been the result of another fatal injury or not, we can only speculate.

So at the very most, that's eight incarnations out of thirteen. That's over halfway through the new regeneration cycle. That's like the entirety of Classic Who and the TV Movie, this time over ten years of intermittent TV. To quote Susan when she's reunited with the Doctor in the audio An Earthly Child and asks about his regenerations, "Eight?! How did you manage that! That's just throwing them away!"

[satoshi-mochida]

Time-travel turn-based RPG Threads of Time announced for consoles, PC - Gematsu

Publisher Humble Games and developer Riyo Games have announced Threads of Time, a turn-based RPG inspired by Japanese RPG classics, featuring a party of characters from different epochs. It will be available for consoles, including Xbox Series, and PC via Steam. A release date was not announced.

Here is an overview of the game, via Humble Games:

About

Threads of Time features gorgeous 2.5D pixel art powered by Unreal Engine 5 that instantly transports you across breathtaking locales through the ages. Explore different eras, assemble your party and restore the ancient order of the Time Knights. From the majestic age of dinosaurs to the distant future teeming with mechanical marvels, every era is packed with adventure and secrets waiting to be unearthed. As you navigate this vast tapestry of history, uncover a sinister plot threatening to unravel the very fabric of time as told through striking anime cutscenes. From dinosaurs to mechanical robots, every battle is a test of strength and wit. Alongside your party, master the dynamic turn-based combat system to take down enemy defenses and bend time to your will to unleash powerful team combos upon your foes. Remake history and save the world!

Key Features

Time-Traveling Adventure – From an age where dinosaurs roam to the far-flung future and alternate realms in between – travel across fantastic and distinctive time periods, and discover the threads that bind the ages. Uncover an epic tale of interwoven fates, and secrets that shaped civilizations…and follow the threads of a sinister plot that traverses the tapestry of time.

Timeless Turn-Based Combat – Weave together powerful attacks in visually dynamic, strategic turn-based battles. Bend time to your will, unravel enemies’ defenses, and unleash your party’s full potential through devastating team combos.

Heroes From Across Ages – Assemble a party of charismatic and unique characters recruited from different eras. Restore the ancient Order of the Time Knights and unite heroes from across epochs to defend the timeline from impending chaos and corruption.

Retro Charm Meets Modern Visuals – Step into vibrant worlds powered by Unreal Engine 5, meet lovingly hand-crafted 2D characters and experience the timeless charm of pixel art as you explore through the ages. Threads of Time captures the essence of your favorite retro RPGs, wrapped in a new and immersive adventure.

Watch the announcement trailer below. View the first screenshots at the gallery.

Announce Trailer

English

Japanese

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1961 Lincoln Continental

The 1961 Lincoln Continental: A Timeless American Classic of Elegance and Innovation

In the realm of classic American luxury automobiles, the 1961 Lincoln Continental stands as a symbol of elegance, innovation, and timeless design. A departure from the ornate styling of the 1950s, the '61 Continental marked a shift towards clean lines, understated luxury, and a new era of automotive design. In this article, we'll take a comprehensive look at the history, design, engineering, cultural impact, and enduring legacy of the 1961 Lincoln Continental.

The Dawn of a New Decade

The early 1960s marked a transition from the extravagant designs of the 1950s to a more refined, streamlined aesthetic. The 1961 Lincoln Continental epitomized this shift, embracing a sense of understated elegance that resonated with the changing times. As the United States entered a new era, the Continental reflected the desire for sophistication and modernity.

Timeless Design: The Art of Proportion

The hallmark of the 1961 Lincoln Continental's design was its commitment to proportion and minimalism. Spearheaded by chief designer Elwood Engel, the Continental introduced the concept of "slab-sided" styling, characterized by clean lines, uncluttered surfaces, and a seamless integration of form and function. This design philosophy elevated the Continental's visual appeal, giving it an enduring aura of sophistication.

Distinctive Features: Suicide Doors and Grille Design

One of the most iconic features of the 1961 Lincoln Continental was its unique suicide doors, which opened toward the rear of the vehicle. This design element not only added a touch of drama but also facilitated easy ingress and egress for passengers. Additionally, the bold front grille design, reminiscent of classic automobiles, became synonymous with the Continental's refined presence on the road.

Engineering Excellence: Power and Performance

Underneath its sleek exterior, the 1961 Lincoln Continental boasted engineering prowess. The Continental was powered by a potent V8 engine that delivered ample power for effortless cruising. This blend of power and performance was complemented by the Continental's smooth suspension and refined handling, ensuring a comfortable and commanding driving experience.

Interior Splendor: Craftsmanship and Comfort

Step inside the 1961 Lincoln Continental, and you're greeted by a world of opulence and refinement. The interior was a masterclass in craftsmanship, with rich materials, plush upholstery, and meticulous attention to detail. Every aspect of the interior was designed to cocoon occupants in comfort and luxury, creating an oasis of tranquility on the open road.

Influence on American Culture: Symbol of Prestige

The 1961 Lincoln Continental became a symbol of prestige and sophistication, often associated with influential figures of the era. Its presence graced the driveways of Hollywood stars, politicians, and affluent individuals, solidifying its status as a vehicle of choice for those who valued luxury and style.

A Cultural Icon: From Film to Fashion

The allure of the 1961 Lincoln Continental extended beyond the realm of automobiles. Its appearances in movies and television shows further cemented its status as a cultural icon. Additionally, the Continental's design elements, such as the iconic grille and suicide doors, became references in fashion and design, highlighting its lasting impact on popular culture.

The Legacy Lives On: Inspiration for Future Generations

The legacy of the 1961 Lincoln Continental lives on through its design philosophy and enduring influence on automotive aesthetics. Its emphasis on timeless design, elegance, and innovation continues to inspire automotive designers and enthusiasts, shaping the way luxury vehicles are conceived and crafted.

Collector's Dream: Rarity and Appreciation

Today, the 1961 Lincoln Continental holds a special place in the hearts of collectors and enthusiasts. Its limited production numbers and iconic status have elevated its value as a classic automobile. Owning a 1961 Continental is not just a possession; it's a connection to a defining era of automotive history and a testament to the artistry of automotive design.

Conclusion: A Timeless Beacon of Elegance

The 1961 Lincoln Continental stands as a testament to the marriage of art and engineering, capturing the essence of elegance and sophistication that defined an era. Its legacy as an automotive masterpiece continues to resonate with those who appreciate the fusion of design, craftsmanship, and performance. The 1961 Lincoln Continental remains an enduring symbol of an age when cars were not just modes of transportation, but expressions of style, luxury, and innovation that transcend time.

[eretzyisrael]

by Shiryn Ghermezian

Academy Award-winning Jewish American songwriter Richard M. Sherman, one of the creative geniuses behind some of Walt Disney’s most iconic and timeless songs, died on Saturday at the Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Beverly Hills “due to age-related illness,” the Walt Disney Company announced. He was 95 years old.

The Walt Disney Company described Sherman as “one of the most prolific composer-lyricists in the history of family entertainment, and a key member of Walt Disney’s inner circle of creative talents.” The company added that it will announce at a later date its plans for celebrating Sherman’s life.

“Richard Sherman was the embodiment of what it means to be a Disney Legend, creating along with his brother Robert the beloved classics that have become a cherished part of the soundtrack of our lives,” said Bob Iger, CEO of The Walt Disney Company. “From films like Mary Poppins and The Jungle Book to attractions like ‘It’s a Small World,’ the music of the Sherman Brothers has captured the hearts of generations of audiences. We are forever grateful for the mark Richard left on the world, and we extend our deepest condolences to his family.”

Sherman and his late brother, Robert B. Sherman, made up the songwriting team known as the Sherman Brothers. Together they wrote music for the 1964 film Mary Poppins, including “Chim Chim Cher-ee,” “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” “A Spoonful of Sugar,” and the lullaby “Feed the Birds.” The brothers won the Oscars for Best Score – Substantially Original and Best Original Song for “Chim Chim Cher-ee.” “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” made it on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in 1965 and “Feed the Birds” was one of Walt Disney’s favorite songs.

“You don’t get songs like ‘A Spoonful of Sugar’ without a genuine love of life, which Richard passed on to everyone lucky enough to be around him,” said Pete Docter, chief creative officer of Pixar Animation Studios. “Even in his 90s he had more energy and enthusiasm than anyone, and I always left renewed by Richard’s infectious joy for life.”

Born on June 12, 1928, in New York City, Richard’s family relocated to Beverly Hills in 1937. He attended Beverly Hills High School and later studied music at Bard College. He was drafted into the United States Army and served as conductor for the Army band and glee club from 1953 to 1955.

Walt Disney hired the Sherman brothers as staff songwriters for The Walt Disney Studios after the success of their song “Tall Paul,” which sold more than 700,000 singles. The brothers together ultimately wrote more than 200 songs for some 27 Disney films and 24 television productions. Their credit included The Horsemasters (1961), The Absent-Minded Professor (1961), The Parent Trap (1961), Summer Magic (1963), The Sword in the Stone (1963), That Darn Cat! (1965), Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree (1966), The Jungle Book (1967), The Happiest Millionaire (1967), The Aristocats (1970), Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971), and The Tigger Movie (1998). Richard later wrote new lyrics for the live-action The Jungle Book in 2016 and two years after appeared in the film Christopher Robin, for which he also composed three new songs.

The Sherman brothers also wrote music for Disney theme park attractions around the world, including “There’s a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow,” “The Tiki, Tiki, Tiki Room,” and “It’s a Small World.” In the early 1980s, they wrote songs for EPCOT and Tokyo Disneyland, including “One Little Spark” and “Meet the World.”

The Sherman brothers left The Walt Disney Studios in the early 1970s and went on to write music, songs, and screenplays for films such as Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1968), Snoopy Come Home (1972), Charlotte’s Web (1973), The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1973), Huckleberry Finn (1974), and The Slipper and the Rose (1976).

In 1972, the duo became the only Americans to ever win 1st Prize at the Moscow Film Festival for their film musical The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, for which they wrote the script and music. The brothers were inducted as Disney Legends in 1990 and into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 2005. Three years later, the brothers were awarded the National Medal of the Arts.

In 2010, Richard and award-winning composer John Debney collaborated on the song “Make Way for Tomorrow Today” for Marvel Studios’ Iron Man 2.

Over the course of his 65-year career, Richard received nine Academy Award nominations, won three Grammys, and received 24 gold and platinum albums. Richard’s father, Al Sherman, was also a songwriter.

[demifiendrsa]

MARVEL vs. CAPCOM Fighting Collection: Arcade Classics - Announce Trailer

 Marvel vs. Capcom Fighting Collection: Arcade Classics will launch both physically and digitally for PlayStation 4, Nintendo Switch, and PC (Steam) in 2024.

Key visual

Screenshots

Overview

About

Join fans from around the world in celebrating the legacy of some of the most beloved fighting games with the release of Marvel vs. Capcom Fighting Collection: Arcade Classics. This jam-packed collection includes seven timeless games in an all-in-one package, including:

X-Men: Children of the Atom

Marvel Super Heroes

Marvel vs. Capcom: Clash of Super Heroes

Marvel vs. Capcom 2: New Age of Heroes

Marvel Super Heroes vs. Street Fighter

X-Men vs. Street Fighter

The Punisher

Key Features

Battle It Out Online – All of the fighting games in the collection will have online ranked, casual, and lobby matches unlocked for players to showcase their abilities with friends, family, and other players from around the world!

Robust Rollback Netcode – Online play for the collection is supported with rollback netcode for a strong and stable online experience!

Be the Best! – Global high score leaderboards come to every game in the collection so players can track their journey to the top of the list!

Practice Makes Perfect – Training Mode comes to all fighting games in the collection so players can learn, practice, and master their moves!

A Rare Gem – The classic beat ‘em up arcade game The Punisher comes to PC and modern consoles for the first time ever in the United States!

Watch This! – Spectator Mode is available so you can enjoy watching your friends and co-combatants battle it out!

Additional Features – Check out the collection’s enhanced features like a music jukebox, in-game Museum, new display filters, and more!

For Capcom fans, fighting game enthusiasts, comic book and Super Hero aficionados, and everyone in between, Marvel vs. Capcom Fighting Collection: Arcade Classics offers a timeless celebration of a legacy fighting game series, delivering a diverse roster of iconic characters, enhanced features and competitive gameplay. Relive the nostalgia or discover enduring classics for the first time, uniting fans of all generations in celebration of Capcom’s legendary fighting game series.