#and future annotations

[the-algid]

Got some Malevolent coded songs

I love doing song annotation, and recently have been doing more. here's my Malevolent song annots so far

Like Real People do by Hozier This one is for Parkthur, the companionship, and silent support. Not caring what the other has done. Also Parker's ass is dead

Touched by Vast Oscar annotation. Oscar is down bad for Arthur, and his eldritch and atheist swag

Howl by Florence + The Machine Private Eyes song. They are toxic yaoi, that like to fight each other.

IN MY MOUTH by Black Dresses Arthur, my homeboy is a cannibal, and a bit of a freak.

Work Song by Hozier Parkthur, again Parker's ass is dead. Parker also saved Arthur. This one is good for resurrection Parker AUs

Music make me feral, and Malevolent makes me feral. ALSO IF YOU LEAVE COMMENTS I LOVE YOU

[marivanilla05]

In the middle of exams so here are just some higher quality versions of my last sketches!

(There will be no context for Menelaus dressed as a seal and Helen doing drugs. If you know, you know.)

[alienssstufff]

Updated Gillion and Edyn designs as exercise

+the oldish Chip and Jay sketch from twt

[whyistheroomempty]

listen worlds beyond number needs to stop being so cool and beautiful. Sometimes I forget the level of detail and layers of story there are, and then I re listen to an episode and get absolutely punched in the face by a random line.

Spoilers for Arc 2 and (kinda) 4:

Ep. 19, Kith and Kin

“Brennan Lee Mulligan: You see, as they do all of them, the butterflies get this intense white illumination, and then they get a sort of orangey-red around them. Your hands, they go to a scintillating black, until you realize that you are looking at kind of, in shifting butterfly wings, a fox-like human…

Suvi (Aabria): Oh my god, I wish you could see yourself—hold on.

Aabria Iyengar: And I'm going to use prestidigitation to make a mirror, so you can see what you look like right now, but it's not reflective, I'm just making the image that I see. Like

Suvi (Aabria): This is what you look like right now! It's like a... Butterflox.

Ame (Erika): I'm beautiful. Oh my gosh! They show your true form!”

[ryde-jm]

Wanna be with an older woman and read books together, my legs over her lap or maybe hers over mine, my hand idly rubbing her foot maybe she’s been working and she’s tired and we’re drinking wine or sharing a joint, or maybe it’s Sunday morning and we’re sipping tea on the front porch sharing a cigarette. Maybe we read the same book, dissecting it as we go on, l've never minded spoilers so if she reads faster then me, I don't mind if she chats about something I haven't seen yet. Maybe she reads slower than me, and I patiently wait for her to catch up before talking about sections. Comparing annotations and stealing each others copies to leave little notes in for our next session. Maybe we swap copies when we finish so we can keep a little part of each other on our own bookshelves.

Maybe we read different books and I get to listen to her talk about the storyline, her hand softly running up and down my thigh without her even realizing it, too lost in her words. Or maybe I ramble about the latest piece l've read, her eyes stuck to mine because she actually cares about what I have to say and wants to listen to me.

[thestrangesun]

Hey, Deca fans, how do you read this line?

(I'm going back through Divided Loyalties page by page to find every character trait there is for each Deca and I had a few different interpretations of what this one means when I got to it. I'm curious what her 'look that spoke volumes' came across as to everybody else.)

[undying-lilies]

started annotating my new copy of A New Dawn today, and oh my gosh I have been missing OUT on annotating

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

update on the paper-writing crisis from the weekend:

[cricketandbooks]

The Opposite of Icarus — Monty the Crow

The songs of a bird that grew to love its cage, until he couldn’t anymore

Couldn’t resist making a Monty playlist. For a relatively sweet presenting character, his story is incredibly horrifying and sad. The songs are loosely in chronological order but this is definitely more of a ~pure vibes~ situation than my other Dead Boy Detectives playlists. Hope you enjoy!

My other Dead Boy Detectives character playlists:

Charles Rowland: THE BRAWN, song annotations here

Edwin Payne: THE BRAINS, song annotations here

Crystal Palace: THE EYES, song annotations here

Niko Sasaki: THE HEART, song annotations here

[dimsilver]

☀️

[lizasweetling]

this alternate power source seems oddly musical, which probably makes it narratively pleasing as Kjarl would like

but whether it counts as a solution 'previously introduced 'already set up in the narrative' is harder to say- maybe there's more? Or maybe he just Won't be happy, and tough darts for him.

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[torveiglyart]

You know what's more heartbreaking than losing that one good essay you had a while ago because your students email got deleted?

Losing a fanfic wip on Google Drive because your students email got deleted.

Of all the things I saved from my drive, that one Voltron wip that carried me through the end of senior year was not one of them. And that sucks. I had so many good ideas in it and A SKILLS CHART FOR THE PALADINS. And what did I do? LOSE IT. The only way to get it back is to sit with my old principal on her personal computer and go through all my old stuff on there. And I do not want to explain to my past PRINCIPAL that I am bothering her about this for a fanfic wip. It was called like "to red and b(l)ack again" or something along those lines.

UGHHHHHH I'm dying

ʰᵉˡᵖ

[dykeofmisfortune]

the coolest thing i own rn is an annotated copy of richard siken's 2005 book "crush" i found at the vintage used bookstore/record store addressed to some guy named "peter" in the inside cover from a guy named "J" (i think. or an L idk it's in script) (also it's gotta be a guy right?? why would straight people buy richard siken books). i found it in the used $3-7 clearance books section. just sitting there. there's not a lot of actual writing but there's highlights all over the place, some underlines and the occasional drawn heart. there's a coffee stain over wishbone. im pretty sure one of the pages was torn out. so much evidence of love and it still ended up in the used bookstore to be sold. i'm normal about this.

[vulpinesaint]

desperately trying to remember if there are any books i read this year that i cannot find on my library borrowing history or simply cannot remember. i am so bad about remembering books. LITERALLY REMEMBERED ONE AS I'M WRITING THIS POST. anyway i am attempting to compile a list of books that i've read this year so that i can reference it without having to forget everything. wish me luck. i have fifteen titles on there right now but i can't shake the feeling there's something i'm forgetting

[badolmen]

The satisfaction of finding an efficient way to clean up your data frame without using your advisor’s working but unannotated code…effervescent