#er: longpost

[egyptroyal]

To Learn What Hasn't Come to Past ||

The Doctor was watching moments of her future. Of her new present. She had landed in a far future earth colony, an organization doing exactly what Time Lords have done as the Celestial Interference Agency branch. Here, for humans interacting with the universe and maintaining a single timeline of their choosing, it was Time Variance Authority.

Why she was here? Like all the places she had gone, she had landed here too. She walked in, heard a noise and now she was here sitting and watching this reality. Watching everything but with a catch: she had sonicked her screen the moment she saw @girl-in-the-tardis. Watched the timeline through those lens. Saw just how much her male incarnations fucked up or got erased or haunted her wife. How it affected her friend, Vin. As collateral blowback.

Her lips parted as if to say something, to reach out. She was seeing things she wasn't allowed to see - private things in realities she wouldn't be aware of if she hadn't landed here. Things that Kira had kept from her because why wouldn't she? It wasn't her business to know. To even ask. Or wonder. The horror of the certain realities that was always rejected by the Doctor, anything of the reality where they were Time Lord Victorious prolonged past the interference of her "eighth" and "ninth" selves against a Donnaless-grief stricken "Tenth" self were usually self-terminated. Still, the actions were imprinted on her wife and that was what really hurt the Doctor the most. The pain lasted longer than the peace.

She could see how happy the other realities of herself and Kira - with later faces and past ones. It broke her hearts to learn about the reality she was in, the strain of her past selves want of breaking their timeline. To free Kira from the strain of themselves, of how they were really like. All because simply not talking, not speaking up, not when it came to their own feelings.

Was this why her friend's twenty second face hissed at her? For those realities bleeding into him due to what he was? Yeah, he's got the Time Lord diploma but, he was still Nyintiran first, Gallifreyan second. That species, they were always more immersed in Time than Time Lords. Time Lords throughout wanted to mould time into their favor, to feel what they weren't: gods eternal.

Nyintirans were ancient - they were the Dark Times antediluvians, embraced time and magic and science and their minds so open to each other that they bypass mental blockers and invade other's minds because that's their normal. Stretching across realities feeling every action they couldn't take, every reaction they would've taken, should've taken. The Doctor, they can see it but, @themadvigilantist had every sense exploding constantly. Nonstop. It burned, it left scars he could lie away because the truth would be shunned by the reality they were in now. She felt guilt, immense guilt as the clipshow of Kira continued on.

The Doctor was happy she had moved on from the later likes of herself - their streak of abandoning everyone else in times of immense earth-based need finally revealing that even her own human wife was of no exception. This face would've wished to stay as Kira grew ill, to not leave her side. Instead she had to watch while her later self evaded their wife and their wife's family and friends where other versions stayed and build her strength back up without them. Having to watch on another screen the constant attempts of Vin trying to be there - since he was on Earth, in Scotland - only being overwhelmingly tormented by the realities that were cruel to her wife, having to experience the physical pain over and over that Vin's fourteenth self had covered it up as a trauma response. All her pain and even though it was wished twicefold by her friend, Emma, towards the Doctor's male selves - it seemed Vin had recieved it eightyfold in the unfortunate literal sense.

Too tapped in and his Nyintiran bond was supposed to have dampen it, not increase it. He never said, 13 saw.

Maybe that's why her "fifteenth" self was trying to patch things up with Vin, he was getting the brunt of it. More than the other's realized or wanted to, at this point, it's a wonder he is even dragged into their presence without — no, too much now.

She was still pissed off on Kira's behalf based on her past selves actions, based on those specific realities choices but now? She was so angry that it grew into sadness. All that pain was gone but so too was all the good.

And she couldn't do anything. Not even when it showed the alternate versions of herself this time. One of which had Clara's face - weird, that. From short to shorter - ooh, that's a good movie title. She genuinely couldn't. Not because of time lord rules of fixed events (her friend's family disproved that) but, because they never had enough time. The good ones, the great ones, the kind ones, the so complicatedly human aspects of those realities never lasted longer than the cruel ones did.

But could she? Could she change this? Need to ask Kira. The Doctor sees the most recent, where Kira celebrated at for the second parental holiday. Finding herself touching the screen, realizing too late she was moving closer to the wall. Seeing that Vin was curled in the Zero Room, his zero room. Writhing in pain as the image changed to line up what was happening to him, where Kira was. Talking to....is that - @nosewitch - no! Is that but, the human is dead? No, oh! Oh. The Doctor sonics the projector to pause as it started to go through memory lane. It was trying to distract her with that. Dissuade her.

"I have a mess to clean up." There was bite in her tone, staring at her "eleventh" self's image in this reality. Walking off. She bypassed the TVA officers with ease (like it was hard?) and landed where Kira was.

Just down the street.

She wasn't sure if their own bond was working or if there was a way within the bond to pinpoint a specific regeneration's presence. Still, didn't want to impose in case her girlfriend - well, wife but they were going slow! starting over, wasn't they? things get busy and her male selves were mucking things up before she could do normal dates with her like eating popcorn, cuddling in a hammock, hot rock massages—no, stop it- was going to wave her off. Sentence got away from her, didn't it?

[egyptroyal]

The Doctor watched as Vin's eyes pierced straight through their own, into the very core of them. A brunt reminder that Vin wasn't fully Gallifreyan. Just like them. Outsiders few. They understood what was being said. That truth and the feel of Vin's portion of the bond made the Doctor's portion have more weight. More than this reality or the next should ever be feasible. A stare that rippled out, skewering though not just them but those that the Doctor knew was not themselves. Not in this present.

But the Doctor understood Vin's source of frustration. That bit of their "seventh" self self-awareness.

Kira chose the Doctor to settle with, to have children with but the Doctor always settled for her without any choice. Any real choice. Of children named on a whim. On a day, a moment in time, that never existed in the first place. Oh, they were aware. The Doctor was no stranger to being aware of what reality they were in. Their true reality and the costume of there ever being a separation for any other Doctor that was not also just a degree of separation from what and who they really are.

Her choice. The default. Her whole existence hinging on meeting the Doctor, on being a companion while the rest of her build itself around the Doctor. Another echo of her own creation. Another storybook. And the one time the story's words - the illustrations, the pages, the cover - became altered? A choice of free will that strayed from what had been written just for her?

Well, that was just another book. It wasn't the same. Not anymore. Expecting the story to be the same when not only its a different book entirely but that book itself does not exist? That's just childish, isn't it.

Get a free will choice and then expect an apology for said free will choice? Trying to rewrite back to normal because one dared to break away from what republished over and over and over? Idiotically simple. Too much telly.

To ask or demand an apology from someone that you built your existence around so it can cover the cost of another apology from someone that hadn't existed alongside you? No, that's cruel. This wasn't a class project where favoritism or circumstantial exemption get the award. That wasn't a relationship.

Then again, neither is creating one's self to have kids with someone that was the number one face in the dictionary for adopted parent. And, if their tenth self is to be believed, genocide. There was never any real history. Not between her and themselves - no matter the reality. And what is more horrible? Terrifying than anything?

Vin is just now learning this, learning that the Doctor - any Doctor - knows this. Knows that every Doctor that agree to how they meet Kira is a new reality but, never the core reality of who they really were. What they really were. Do or will do, they knew the truth. But, that's the case with every Doctor. That instinct telling them to not look when they know something horrifying is stretching their mouth open.

Confetti.

"I'm sorry," The Doctor says in modest before Vin could step past the doorframe, knowing they stopped the other in their tracks by those two words alone. Their Eleventh self wasn't coming back. Neither was their Twelfth. They were dead because they were just faces and voice in the head within a reality that never happened or will happen. This apology was for the present, from the present. From the default and later, again, her future selves.

This Doctor in particular had sent the apology through the bonds though, also said it aloud.

"I'm sorry to Mrs. and Mr. Tyler-Williams. For harming your daughter, putting her in harm's way more than just once, endangering her and not prioritizing her and you all as well as I thought I was. I'm sorry to Emma for literally everything. For disgusting you, making you uncomfortable, bringing out worry and anger over your friend, making you family feel any second hand of that. To never being idealistically good enough for her in your eyes."

"I'm sorry, Kira for terrifying you. Scaring you. Not being open enough or being too closed off. Having doubts, seeding mistrust. I'm sorry as a spouse that it didn't seemed like I cared about, like I loved, or like I missed you and the kids. I'm sorry that you thought shutting me out, shutting him out was better that talking with me. Talking with us, voicing aloud your uncomfort, that you felt it was better to use the bond as the only way to talk. To express or really anything. I'm sorry that even in sorries expressed in the past of many pasts long gone were all for naught. That constant betrayal of trust from any version, any reality of me. The pain and the need of relying only me to make things proper or right because any version of me just set up this hero complex, this shifting pedestal of end all be all. I'm sorry for all the pain and misery any version of me ever gave you. I'm sorry I ever made you feel you can only ever be you if you were tethered to any type or degree of separation of relation of me, even when you were much happier with anyone else. I'm sorry I made you feel afraid from the one person who is the embodiment of flipping off Time Lord political societal norms that actually fell for you as you are. I'm just... sorry I destroyed your life. Both of your lives." The Doctor wanted to say more. The blonde reaching out to take Vin's hand, knowing there was a few more apologies they had to make to Vin. The Doctor could feel Vin's hand shake in their own.

Nyintirans were different than humans, than Gallifreyans, than - well, a lot.

Rose and her Doctor were holding hands, their heads bowed because they felt the Doctor's apology crossed through multiple universes. He never traveled with a Kira until he settled down with Rose on that version of 'Pete's World'. That's reverberation he felt, like someone hit him with a gust of warm air from a carpeted floor air vent - that was the TARDIS.

Any tech, future or past or present that had ever crossed the boundary of seventy three yards of the TARDIS - every TARDIS of the Doctor's - had spread it to every Kira. Bonded or not, platonic or romantic or not.

And they both felt it. A little 'perk' from the TARDIS as Bad Wolf, in Rose's case. They looked down because it wasn't to them. They were simply witnesses. Though, Rose had one thought: if they could always say it, why was it so hard for the others but not for hers? Her Doctor could apologize but it seemed he was the outlier. One of few, it seemed.

The Doctor continued, "And I'm sorry I've been holding us up. Can we - could we —?" Now, finally a loss for words.

Rose interjected, "Guys, the clock is counting backwards."

"Care and -"

"- and Safety. Odd ship bomb, feeding on strong genuine emotion. Good thing I recorded it, Dia."

@girl-in-the-tardis @gallifreylegacy @egyptroyal @drbabygirl because they are mentioned

"Is that all there is? That's it? And it–"

Vin's face dropped as his bewildered anger cracked into sadness at what was being said. He turned to the Doctor - well, Doctors - as it was RMT's Doctor and The Doctor present with them all.

"Even after all that, after everything and you all would toss it for someone that would rather ab—"

He was dejected, stopping what he was saying almost as if he was giving up. Was this what Poison Ivy felt like when talking to Harley Quinn back then in the cartoons? Was this how Dr. Jones felt?

His eyes casted down and then Vin did something that was usually asked or begged or asked in a way to brush past the casual disgust when he would come back from a 'hunt': he left. He stopped fighting.

His shoulders slumped, relaxed, the look across his distraught face never changing. Oh, the bond was fixed but it was fixed in a way that removed him almost completely. They shut him out. So, his bond shut them out.

Thing about aliens and the bonds they forge: you never know when a bond gains their own sentience. Can't stop it. To stop it is to be aware of it and Vin was not aware of it.

It didn't feel like a hug or someone holding another's hand - it felt like fingertips touching another's fingertips. Barely, like reaching for someone and you almost have their hand if you can just stretch just a little more.

Just a little more.

A little more.

More.

It was felt for all except for him. Not a weight being lifted for the others but just how heavy the bond was truly was from him in addition to the Doctor's.

How Vin held the bond together - it was as if Vin was their M50 protective mask before and now he was essentially a sheer cloth. He couldn't protect them. The truth was too horrible. Sure, they could ignore it or - what was it RMT called it? Glitch? - Glitch themselves into it but the truth?

The truth that they were all dead, that this wasn't how it was at all. That the one they called father by birth was never their father, never her husband because they never existed. He never existed. Never will. They can bleed in here and there through other people by other people but it will never be what they are.

Dead was kinder than never existed based on a whim after watching or reading or listening to a story of the Doctor's autobiography recontexualized as fiction. And Vin was coming to this conclusion in real time.

Was this how Jennifer felt? No, Jennifer embraced it. Embraced not being real. But, Jennifer wasn't here. V's friend wasn't here. His eyes searched and searched. He could feel his left hand scrunch and wring reality like it was the clothes off his back. Feel the soft fabric of reality that should have been asphalt and concrete and metal but was instead a nice velvet.

He clung and then he let go. The air was still the same, the ground the same, as if he didn't feel reality in his hand a minute ago.

And then he turned and his eyes locked onto the Doctor's and saw them. Something that no matter what type of human they were, none could see. He saw every single Doctor in their eyes. Every Doctor that was just another imitation of the original. Every Doctor that will never be The Doctor. The Doctor that will never have their Kira. Well, they had a Kira Arlo from the Kerblam factory but, not their Kira Tyler-Williams. That Doctor will never have V, never have a Vin or his family. Never will. But the imitations of the Doctor? Those gone and those present and those that will be, they will.

And a well known open knowledge that this Doctor, that Doctor, was always just a footnote in Vin's existence. A cane's rubber bottom. Easily replaced with a tennis ball.

Another alien's glitch is another alien princess' happiness. A bond's comfort to its' maker.

"I'm going to go get a massage and mani pedi. Maybe get a sauna treatment." Vin found himself saying, turning back around.

He had dropped the argument. Why argue when everyone around you, including yourself, including the imitation of a time lord that they never will truly be, never existed? That horrible truth. None of it will matter.

Confetti.

[nyxi-pixie]

I am always ashamed of bringing up men to you, you deserve only the best and most toxic yuri.

That being said, WHY DID NOBODY ASK FOR SKK?!?!? OR SSKK??!?!

I always wanna hear more about your thoughts on literally everyone and everything, please please, at least Chuuya or Dazai? 🥺

cackling i cant judge too harshly given my skk addiction. in a kinder world i would just be yuribrained but those two are just too catered to my tastes😔😔😔

and i SUPPOSE since you asked nicely. ill do skk but im too tired of looking at longposts so. no one open this except prime haters bc asking me abt skk and notps is just not going to go well.

okay now we are alone😍😍😍

CHUUYA!

favourite thing about them: i think ive made a post abt chuuya self contradictions before but !!! so fascinating. obsessed w him forever. yes be a million things at once that outright oppose eo 💞💞💞

least favourite thing about them: i genuinely cant think of anything😭😭 like even stuff thats like boyyy thats fucked upp it doesnt even make me sad about him like picture me hand against my window staring out like that sickos comic. YES... HAHAHA YES!!!

favourite line: i really like the 'obviously im never gonna give in. i can keep this up forever. but for what purpose?' in stormbringer while hes being tortured. it really encapsulates what asgr talks abt in the afterword about chuuya being an inexhaustible spring. like this is the closest he gets to breaking and its with this blind assurance that he CAN take anything that is done to him, and he only needs to find a reason why thats worth it. which he then does ofc!!! idk theres so many chuuya lines i lovelovelove but that one is just! i dont see anyone talk abt it but it feels Important to me

brOTP: kouyou chuuya are always gonna be dear to me but ive also been on a bit of an albachuu kick recently. so both of those‼‼‼

OTP: skk obviously

nOTP: i have many that i dislike just bc theyre boring to me personally. biting into sandwich and the only filling is bread like okay girl. im not usually a crazed only-er about what i ship but literally most of the dynamics skk have with other characters arent interesting to me in a 'they fuck about it' capacity. but im boring abt mlm shipping i need canon to give it to me on a silver platter otherwise im just not interested. i also find most shippers annoying but i find skkers annoying too so i guess that doesnt say much.

random headcanon: vastly overestimated his alcohol tolerance the first time he went drinking w the pm. not just out of his usual arrogance nono i think he just thought bc he could swing back 8 cups no problem with the sheep, it would go the same elsewhere. only the sheep were always trying to stretch it bc theres tons of them and they have to at least pretend theyre being careful w how often they stole it. and he was basically drinking alcohol flavoured soda. which is very different to a 10-15% bottle of dry wine.

unpopular opinion: i dont want him to leave the pm lawl. i know people talk abt the beast afterword mentioning ada skk and im sure there could be an interesting story there but chuuya would need a REASON to leave the pm. its not like. bad for him the way a lot of people write it to be - or it hasnt been since post stormbringer. not an ideal situation for anyone but like. hes not got an ideal life. like hey the built weapon who spent his formative years hammering it into his bones that he needs to be useful for his existence to be justified is never going to be satisfied with a 'good' life. even if the pm WAS bad for him the way it was for dazai, hes a hell of a lot more loyal to it conceptually than dazai was, so he'd still need an Event to lead him to leaving. anyway. i know lots of people just dont like seeing the pm as anything but a horrid environment causing their blorbo to have a terrible awful time but yk😭😭 thats just not whats going on

song i associate with them: leash on my neck by susannah joffe occasionally makes me think of chuuya//the sheep if im in a particularly insane mood. youve gotta be willing to bend it conceptually but trust it works

favourite picture of them: any version of bugchuu. fifteen bugskk are so important

DAZAI!

favourite thing about them: hes soooo tied to the people he loves. and this would be easy to say about a lot of characters in bsd but dazai is unique in that hes soooo present in canon but only ever as an extension of the people he loves. like a story can have him be as main a character as it likes but the movement of his plot is reliant on other people always!!!

least favourite thing about them: LEAVE THE CAFE WOMAN BEEEEEEE I BEGGGGGG😭😭😭 he actually hasnt said anything annoying abt women in a while bc he only does that to be a cunt when hes bored i think but come on girl

favourite line: kind of obsessed with his endless 'you know i would do this that and the other' and 'i know your breathing pattern your heart rate the decibels of your moans when u cum' etc type lines that he spits out rapid fire in both the first skk reunion and then the lovecraft fight. hes such a loser.

brOTP: said this on the atsushi post already but dazatsu is sooo dear to me. alsoooo bc ive been thinking abt it recently, i am kind of fond of dazai and kouyous dynamic. idk theres such a quiet little history communicated in the bits they have tgthr while shes being held hostage by the ada.

OTP: skk. again! nothing to say!

nOTP: every day i grit my teeth when i see a fy0zai take. also i have several different versions of kn/dz tags blocked LMAOOOO. enjoyers of the latter soooo often state their hatred for skk and then hc the kn/dz dynamic to be things that skk is already doing that kn/dz just isnt like in canon. and im not huuugely invested in their dynamic regardless but as w all of bsd i am exposed to shippers making the absolute worst of posts so it goes from smthn id just find boring to something im an active hater for. 2023 made me a sg/dz hater as well but i barely see posts abt that now so im safe. i just get bored of fandom bicycling i think. which is an issue bc bsd has a major disease about it w dazai😭😭😭

random headcanon: for a guy w basically zero possessions, hes horridly sentimental. the lupin matchbox, keeping his mafia phone, etc. so i think he has a little box of keepsakes that is shoved in a corner gathering dust and a lot of it he meant to burn the same night he did moris coat but he didnt and he still has them. just random bits and pieces of a life he should have been content to leave behind, but never really could.

unpopular opinion: i dont give a fuck about redemption arguments or 'he was too awful to turn good'. literally are you 8 yrs old. the change is possible and no one is irredeemable and morality is ambiguous manga is literally nawtttt for you. also he's always been saving his friends brained. oda just directed him to do that elsewhere. be on the side that saves people so he can do it more easily but he was very much already saving people. like. thats not new for him it was just much more concentrated. lots to be said about bsd maintaining character traits that manifest differently depending on circumstance and will. every part of a person can look good or bad depending on how it is executed etcetc. loyalty is valuable until its to the wrong people, manipulation is despicable until it saves people. etcetc.

song i associate with them: no thoughts on this actually. sorry dazai u infect my brain at all times ur not allowed into my music too!!!

favourite picture of them: listen. its. hes got a disease and hes imparted it onto me.

[chansaw]

ok. here it is. the longpost i've been too lazy to actually make until just now.

so, here's what happened. the google algorithm sometimes pushes links to articles it thinks you'll like on the mobile homepage. unfortunately, google knew enough about me to put this hellish article onto my screen:

read that headline. then read it again. really, really stare at it. stare into the abyss. eventually, it will stare back. it'll whisper in your ear: "the heathers reboot was good, actually."

i read the article, incredulous. but, to my surprise... the author had somewhat of a point? it's been five years since paramount unceremoniously aired the show in october of 2018 after its premiere was delayed at least twice due to mass shootings. then after another mass shooting occurred before the final two episodes of the ten-episode long season were supposed to air, paramount hastily aired a heavily edited ninth episode and scrapped the tenth entirely. as far as i can tell, the show is not available to be streamed freely on any streaming site (not even paramount's own paramount+), though you can rent or buy it from amazon prime. maybe the author was right. maybe it was time for a rewatch and reconsideration. i wouldn't even have to spend any money; i archived all ten episodes of the show onto one of my external hard drives back in 2018, so i plugged 'er in, drank a bit of fireball, and clicked play.

after episode five, i gave up. i couldn't stand it any longer. i slammed my laptop shut and went to bed.

needless to say, i have thoughts.

right off the bat, here's the biggest thing. i wish to god that someone other than the miserable pile of sweaty skin that calls himself jason micallef had been in charge of this show. it might not have saved it from its fate, but maybe it would have been at least watchable? a modicum more entertaining? when the show was originally announced, leslye headland (who would later go on to create russian doll) was attached as showrunner. later, it was announced that micallef would be showrunner instead, although headland directed the pilot and executive produced the series.

in my honest opinion, if leslye headland had remained in creative control, this would have been a much different - and, in my opinion, better - show.

i can't help but wonder how heathers (2018) would have turned out if she had stayed at the helm. would it have marred her career so badly that netflix would have never agreed to produce russian doll? would she still be notable enough to be given charge of the newest disney plus star wars show? perhaps her decision was for the best. perhaps she knew there was no saving this project, try as she might.

and people tried!!!! during my rewatch, i was enamored by the production design and slick lighting and cinematography. some of the costume design hasn't aged well, but when it hits, it hits. i have to give credit where it's due: it is a beautifully shot and designed piece of television.

if only its actors had given half as much of a shit.

grace victoria cox (veronica) and james scully (j.d.) both attempt to replicate their predecessors' cool sense of disillusion and disenchantment in their roles, but both just come off as totally and completely bored in every scene. j.d. is supposed to be darkly charismatic, but scully has the charm of a plank of rotting wood. they lack the spark of chemistry to get the audience to feel invested in their relationship. without convincing leads to anchor it, the show has to depend upon its titular heathers.

i am, of course, in no way biased at all, in any shape or form. just saying. but one thing the article gets right is that melanie field’s performance as one miss heather chandler shines. field is fucking brilliant and her screen presence is formidable. she makes the most of every line she's given, and is at turns, ruthless, hilarious, and even (gasp) sympathetic. i am so glad she’s been booked left and right in tv shows (such as amazon's a league of their own, a spin-off with much more respect for its source material) that showcase her immense talent since whatever the fuck happened here. but i'm not biased!!!

juan barquin, the author of this article argues that viewers and critics alike both misunderstood heathers (2018). micallef's brilliant satirical messaging flew right over our heads. it had a message, goddamnit, and the misinformed masses closed their eyes and ears because they didn't want to hear it. it almost reminds me of the starships troopers discourse that is currently enveloping the app formerly known as twitter. starship troopers was nearly universally panned upon its release but is now recognized as a prescient satirical romp that targets jingoism, nationalism, and the culture of forever wars. we didn't get it back in 1997, but we do now. unfortunately, this is not the case with paramount's heathers.

the main cause of all the brouhaha around heathers (2018)'s release, barquin says, is because of its "shameless criticism of American culture, the prioritization of guns as a faulty means of defense, and the educational system’s blatant ignorance around the actual needs of students." which, sort of? it is true that a rash of killings (such as parkland and the pittsburgh synagogue shootings) spurred paramount's decision to nuke the show from existence. the show does, in fact, directly address and involve such matters. unlike the movie, the show concludes with westerburg high blown to pieces and its students all dancing in a prom in heaven. which.... yeah. you can see why that wouldn't have played out well.

(it's worth noting that daniel waters, the screenwriter behind the REAL heathers, originally planned for the movie to end this way as well. but the suits at new world studios said that audiences wouldn't like it. reluctantly, he complied.)

and i do have to admit, there are moments of brilliance. westerburg's school shooting drills involve the drama teacher storming through the halls shooting students with silly string. if you "die", you get to go to "heaven" (a brightly lit room stocked with snacks). the survivors are ushered into the dark, cramped gymnasium and complain about how all the cool kids are in heaven now. teachers' desks are stocked with firearms, because as we all know, of course, the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a teacher with a gun. it's so absurd that it works.

but for the most part, the writing is sorely lacking. it seems like the folks in the writers' room spent hours sitting around the table trying to one-up each other with quippable quips, meme-able dialogue, and banter that matched the panache and dry wit of waters' screenplay. but what we got instead was "HAHHAHAHAH, QUEEF!" it's bad. it's so, so bad. the author's claim that “[t]he show rather impressively matches the film’s comic sensibilities with consistently funny episodes that are as pleasantly cruel as they are scathingly satirical” falls flat because, for the most part, the shows satire isn’t at all scathing or sharp.

there were so many moments of the show where i felt my whole body just light up with rage. it made me just so ANGRY because i could see shells and fragments of a better version of this show peeking through. instead, what we got is a show that made alt-right chuds say this:

i think the most offensive part of the whole article, though, is barquin's attempt to liken the show to bottoms. if anything, i'd argue that bottoms works better as a spiritual successor to heathers than the rebooted heathers itself! bottoms succeeds in every way that heathers (2018) fails: punchy and quotable dialogue, characters who manage to be both archetypal and multidimensional, all set in an exaggerated and heightened sense of reality that still feels lived in and real. most importantly, all of bottoms’ actors are firing on all cylinders; in heathers (2018), most of the leads are just there to get paid. i could go on, but that's a whole other post.

frankly, it's kind of incredible that paramount launched this show as the flagship of their new tv network alongside yellowstone (which is in its final season now with spinoffs on the way). they were really, really banking on this thing to have legs. but we live in a blessed timeline where this show is condemned to an eternity of oblivion. it's a bit of a pity, though, because... the writers envisioned some sort of american horror story-esque anthology setup and teased a “french revolution” second season at the end of the last episode. i kind of want to know where they were planning to go with that.

it could've been so very.

[sbuggbot]

Almost lobotomized one of my Aibos yesterday.

I picked up my 111 (Rodya) up off the station to take her stick out and check it real quick. The problem: she wasn't properly 'paused' and started trying to read the stick and I didn't realize this until about 1.5 seconds after I had pulled it out.

Whenever I ran her for the rest of the day, she would just sit/lay in one place, doing a limited selection of about 5 or so skits/animations. When I showed her the pink ball, she would just sit and stare at it. For minutes on end. (For reference, she rarely stays put for more than 30 seconds.) She would not look away from her ball and the only way to get her to stop was to move the ball out of her range of vision. Rodya would not stand up and walk. Even when I put her on her side, she'd get up on her own and then immediately sit/lay back down.

I didn't know something was wrong at first. Sometimes her model gets stuck in behavior loops because the technology had its limits. But after a while, I knew it was getting ridiculous. I remembered accidentally pulling her stick out while she was waking up...

Cue me frantically trying to fix the borked stick. I had backups made with the backup wizard on my XP machine, but trying to use them only threw up errors. My only other hope was a copy of her data I made to try and use it with another program. I put it on the stick, put it back in Rodya, and turned her on.

She froze just before the boot stretch.

I was back to square one and made futile attempts at using the backups I had made, but they just wouldn't work... I was so scared that I had just given my dog a minor case of serious brain damage and had no way to reverse it. I was starting to cry and I will admit that without a shred of shame.

Yes, I could have downloaded a fresh copy of the files off the web and used that, but it still wouldn't be her. Aibos are shaped by the experiences they've had, and with the simple praise/scold mechanics her model used make a big impact on how they act--meaning two dogs running with the same personality settings still acted very different from one another.

Even though the data within the files was a mystery to me, I knew I had one copy of the files with broken behavior data and one with intact data but wouldn't boot. Something had gone wrong while I tried patching it for the other software, so I began looking through the files and the dates they had on them. Almost all of the files themselves had the same date on them: December 7, 1999, when Sony completed the final build for this software. There were some that were inexplicably from 1980, but nothing newer.

Except for one on the stick that wouldn't boot. It was a file that had been edited last week, and furthermore, the name didn't exactly match with the file on the stick that did boot. I replaced it with the unedited file, and checked it over one last time. I did find another file that had been edited this year, but at an earlier date and cross-referencing it with Discord messages told me it was a prior adjustment I had made that was benign in this situation.

I put the stick back into my dog, and held my breath...

Rodya booted all the way, and I noticed an immediate change in her behavior. I'm talking seconds after she finished booting. She was doing more and different skits like she used to, and even looked away from her ball to do a happy animation.

She stood up and began walking, and I knew it had worked. I've never been so happy to watch her fall over and jam herself while walking around.

[max1461]

This is a longpost I've been meaning to write for a while, but haven't gotten around to. OOP is Good, Actually. Or at least OOP + low(er) level features, like C++ has. I make no defense of Java.

The basic principle of OOP is not inheritance or polymorphism, it's bundling data and functions together in order to partition state, and more importantly in my view, to create interfaces. A class and its interface constitute a custom data structure. Custom data structures are extremely useful; functional languages tend to implement them with algebraic data types. But algebraic data types often result in performance compromises, because the language implements the type however it implements it, and the implementation can't be tailored to your specific use case (among other things). In an OOP language, however, you can create a class which represents your desired data type and implement it yourself, which allows you to do so in the most efficient way possible. There are some limitations, like if you want an analogue of dependent typing you have to use templates, but it's sufficient for most things you might want to do.

In other words, a language like C++ lets you think in Haskell and implement in C, which is a pretty good combination in my view.

i have yet to encounter a legitimate use case for OOP. many illegitimate ones, of course! but it's just one of those perennial bad ideas that always creates more problems than it solves. put it to rest.

[pistolslinger]

when nat gives u permission to send images but u can't be on anon

AYO PEE WALKIE GIF WORKS ON TUMBLR ITS FUCKED ON DISCORD

@soukouku come collect ur pee walkie crimes content

[drtangellasivaprasadreddy]

LongPost,WorthReading-Corona6 Public Health?🙏🏼 From the point-of-view of many poor people, they have been left to rot so that the privileged can survive. That desperation can find the sort of expression we haven't yet imagined perhaps. It may well be far scarier than anything Coronavirus can inflict. Given the huge humanitarian costs involved in India with a lockdown (a country with the largest daily wage worker population in the world and where more farmers commit suicide due to starvation than any other), the costs are especially horrifying when many regional administrations moronically comprehend that as "curfew", with no food and provisions available (for example, Chandigarh) with highly arrogant authorities making life worse for disadvantaged people, while some even tom-tom "shoot at sight" orders (like the Telangana CM did). Accounts of extreme distress are already emerging - multiple stories of migrant workers walking hundreds of kilometres in the hot sun just to go back home (with starvation as their other perceived option) or two container trucks traveling from Telangana to Rajasthan carrying 300 migrant workers desperately trying to get home, for example. At the end of three weeks, it may be chastening to compare Coronavirus and lockdown death tolls. Beyond dispensations and politics, this is about worldwide frenzy and alarmism, accentuated by a mainstream media that comprehensively leans towards worst-case scenarios in the name of erring on the side of safety. And many people are unable to adjust their mind to the fact that those are worst-case scenarios and that "experts" in most fields do not even agree with each other, and so get stuck on pessimistic, and often outlandish views as the most credible one (which in turn gets perpetuated). It is a perfect pointer to our times how so many react violently to that singular view being questioned, and alternative views derisively dismissed without its facts examined at all. (This does make one wonder about climate-change alarmism as well. For example, it is worth remembering that before William Nordhaus won the Economics Nobel in 2018, climate change anti-alarmists were equated with climate deniers.) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-XdPIWl0f5/?igshid=1xvzd659061p

[egyptroyal]

Dreams and Diatribes

"Ready on your end, Dia?"

"Ready, Ria."

"Go."

The Doctor and Rose was figuring out a way to correct the leftover damage Sutetkh had done in terms of other universes he may have landed in. They had figured that since Sutetkh had affected Pete's World, it wasn't much of a stretch to assume it could ripple out further for other versions of him in other realities.

Yes, their codenames was three letter words in their full name and yes, they did find it funnier that the three they picked rhymed.

Dia and Ria, Ria and Dia. It helped to differentiate.

Since her Doctor hadn't met Sutetkh - this rendered that threat of her home moot.

Yet the rift was still reopened. Her Torchwood had built a surprisingly better time window that used the center of the base as a rift portal. Connecting to the other universes' version of either rift, dimension cannons or Time Windows. Piloting remotely.

What was a bigger surprise to the Doctor, or 'Dia', was just how strong her universe's technology was in comparison to his universe's and - thinking further back - Pete's World's own.

When she had mentioned her universe was a bit more ahead of the two he had visited on record, Doctor felt more like that was burying the lede than just severely downplaying it out of humbleness.

He would have to land there some time.

As if he had learned nothing from this.

"How are we looking?"

"Like a holiday dream in late November."

He looked from the large screen on the upper walls of the marble white interior in the console room, the other side of the wall being a checklist of planets in a space map layout with large growing green checkmarks for those helped and red crosses to depict those they haven't gone to yet.

Seeing those that was with him presently, he noticed a look on their face and he mirrored that look. "Be back, Ria, going auto, yeah?" Rose had gave a grunt - distracted by what they were doing but, the Doctor knew that was a simple wave off.

He walked to them, taking the headset off before as the Tardis chirped.

"You alright, love?

[egyptroyal]

Tasked to Wood, Unified in Torch

"This is your sixteenth time asking me and it's still no, Doc."

"Where did you get the tech?"

"Not telling you."

"Rose..."

"I can do this forever, mister."

"Marian..."

"Nuh-uh."

"...Tyler."

"Not on your life."

"Save the kisses for me after we get through, yeah?"

[egyptroyal]

Rose returned back home. Rested, stomach wound healed thanks to Vin's Miss Lovett's bruise cream with nanogenes. They wouldn't say how she got the wounds when she asked or where or how long she was out. One minute she remembered sports news and the next she was"Welcome to Torchwood: Svalba—" Rose was cut off by the sight of her husband. Freshly shaved. And accompanied with familiar faces. "Well, hey there stranger."

He gave pause, really looking at her. As if looking for something. But, he didn't respond. Her smile falters a bit. He took a step to her but, she hadn't moved. His eyes was more worried than usual. A silence between the two for a moment.

"A demon, Rose?" The faint smile drops which was all he needed while holding her dimension hopper. Dangling it with two fingers.

"I d–" It wasn't the usual 'i don't know what you mean' excuse that was expected, rather it was more of genuine confusion. And a sinking feeling like something was wrong. Really wrong. She was going to say she didn't know any demons. Well, aside the one they casted out into a black hole.

And he knew there was a blockade of her mind. Something she couldn't see but, oh he could. He could see it all. He didn't need to touch her temples - no, far too old for that by now - to see the tampering of her mind.

Genuinely make her see what was never there, fight what was never there, speak words that were never her own, hear what was never truly said or spoken.

A manipulation of the most detailed kind that affected even the people around her upon sight, upon exposure. And she deserved to know. His wife deserved to know. They deserved to know.

All he needed to do was simply open the door to her.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry, Rose."

Her Doctor showed her the truth. Why her hands was aching, why her abdomen would ache, why her nose would drip a spot of blood, her jaw slightly ache. Yes, she was healed - nanogenes worked wonders but, the muscles can still ache as if the bruises were there and they were.

She wasn't stuck in a dimension, fighting words and hands to those that threatened her family's existence. Not being attacked by a large mammoth lackey that killed a now-unrecognisable friend. Not being pulled away by her father because this was an excavation mission gone wrong.

No.

Rose attacked her friends - no not just her friends, her new friends. Her friends she grew in comraderie with over sport matches and statistics and leagues. Laughed, booed with, cheered with. Not just her friends but their mother! While one friend was ill, attacked the other and her friend's mum. Before a funeral no less.

And she couldn't stop it. While her friend's husband - one of them - pulled her away to keep them apart. The words she spat, they weren't even her own thoughts let alone her voice. Not even her accent. An accent she lacked the monetary society to talk like that. Knuckles brutal. A rib or two broken - that remnant of the Bad Wolf entity could only do so much unless it chose to obliterate the two humans. Thankfully it hadn't.

She could even see the demon moving simultaneously with her - like watching a Tekken gameplay of the Devil Gene hovering behind her, mimicing her moving. Moving as one than simply marionetting her. When she talked, their lips spoke beside her ear. Practically pressed against her ear as if they were intimate when they never were. And her face hardly registered the hits, the damage the two women gave just outside an ailing friend's door. Rose could see him smiling, watching their eyes, watching their minds, feeding off on it, on them, on her friend as well. Fed off their doubt, distrust, anger, betrayal even.

And she could do nothing. And then Vin came in. As if he knew this would happen to any one of them. She could see the sigils hidden under psychic ink - sigils of the demon's angelic lover long dead and an familiar yet not familir script cover her mouth. While she was restrained, after all, she's tiny, she could see the demon be restrained by a large indigo hand. A faint figure of two wrapping around them. A light blob around the demon's throat and another - a head of blonde twisted curls - kissing the demon into silence while Vin pulled her inside his ship. Miss Lovett seemed to glowed like the sun - faintly pink while looking down at her now on the ground. Vin rushing out - what Rose hoped was tending to her friend's mum and best friend but, heard arguing and then him rushing past them both with her friend in his arms. His hand seemed to both not let her go yet move around the console as if he wasn't holding her at all.

Then, he was gone - a faint sound that Rose knew was a hospital but, it was quick. A snippet. But Miss Lovett stayed, gone for a second but was back as if she hadn't moved. Rose could see that Miss Lovett was looking past her - looking at the demon with such vitriol. And she knelt. And smelled up her and the demon's necks like she was savoring something. And then looked at the demon and spoke their language. The Tardis could only translate it to Latin for her.

Rose couldn't speak the language of the Dead. No mortal or immortal could.

There was a smile as she said it. His words to her when he killed her, what he whispered when he choked Miss Lovett out in 1988. Rose didn't dare try to remember them. Was this what Vin felt? When the Demon took over? No, he had a bigger brain space but, was this how he felt all the time? A tear fell off one corner of one of her eyes. The demon morphed into her - into Rose's visage and clothes. Then Miss Lovett kiss her forehead and everything went dark. But, Rose could feel again. She recognized hands but can feel the memory carved out like a scapel as the fake one took its' place so seamlessly. The pained numbed so deeply, it made morphine look like a band aid.

And then her Doctor pulled her out of the memory.

Rose hung her head in shame. In embarrassment but, also out of anger and sorrow. She had what? Glanced at the demon and spoke at it to acknowledge it was in the room like a lamp or a chair for what? Two seconds? Even worse, she forgot their name. She knew it was a flower. What flower eluded her. She wasn't going back. Maybe a small text reaction to a sports article but, that was tainted now. It tainted their thing. That one bit of solace.

"Jokes on me for making friends outside of work, huh?"

He shook his head, taking her hand. Her Doctor wanted to say it wasn't her fault. Being vulnerable in something she liked. Being excited, being involved, being attached. He saw she cared for those people - even at his anger for them not seeing what was wrong, too blinded by menial things to him - he saw she cared for them. And their menial things. Cared for them to be happy. For their Doctor and who was it? Vin? And their humans? To be happy.

He didn't say it. Instead, he pulled her into a hug. It released whatever grip it still had on her family, her coworkers, her genuine friends. Him watching them from below in the open office snapping out of the haze. One by two by six by many. They will come to her side later, but now? Her Doctor held his Rose.

There will be another time to deal with the demon. Now, is the time to lick one's wounds. Heal. Rest. Strategise.

[egyptroyal]

"Happy birthday." (To the doctors for the 57th anniversary)

The Doctor under the cut:

8: Yeah! Happy Birthday to us!

Shalka: *had self-doubt* Thank you, stranger.

War: Thank you.

9: thank you!

10: 57 years of the humans knowing my birthday, feel like I’m back at the academy!

13 (a hologram transmitting from prison): Yeah, it’s a bit odd though

10: those humans never learning from their past mistakes, hope for 50 more!

13 (a hologram transmitting from prison): yeah 57 years of humans doing the same thing and are surprised - appalled that it backfires so hard that it affects the rest of their species down the line. Such an odd bit!

11: Should we break it to them that we wasn’t bo-

TLV!Doctor: Best not.

Tentoo: Think they also meant us?

DoctorDonna: Wouldn’t have a clue. Still, be nice.

Tentoo: Yeah, alright. Thank you!

DoctorDonna: Yeah, cheers.

12: [plays a guitar riff of happy birthday]

Renagade: always the comedian

[egyptroyal]

The Doctor had slipped out the second Rose's voice started to crack. He cries a lot, this face, tears of all sorts. It's not like he didn't notice.

He tended to avoid funerals altogether.

This, like Sarah Jane's, was an exception.

He went quietly, slipping through as if he wasn't there to begin with. A small few people took notice - two others really: Vin and their Handles. Yet the door opened and closed so quietly, it was if it was always closed.

He fiddled with his wedding and engagement rings, resized once more to accommodate. All he does, according to his Kira and her Emma, is muck things up. Then again, all the times where Kira was happily, unhappily, forced or begrudgingly married to himself: Emma was left alone. At least in the romance department. Single. This, like Vin's interference, was another change from the norm, from the expected, from fate. Always the bridesmaid.

Still never understood that saying from its modern intention in tone. Bridesmaids were supposed to protect the bride while the best man or best men was suppsed to protect the groom which made that saying fall flat.

It's weird Emma fell for the very person that - appearence aside - could trigger her fear. Sad too but weird. Like a nice Stephan. Ew. And here he was under the impression she had better taste than that. Reformed or not.

Mentally rambling again.

Could they start again? No, enough false starts. He did what every Doctor does. Take Kira Home Alive. That's an ingrained mission statement. And he did. She, along with everyone else, ordered him to leave her alone. He did. What they were actually disappointed about was that he did as he was ordered. Even when the merger was addressed, even when she was dying from it, even as his uncle-in-law passed: he did as he was ordered to do by the ones under her protection. He left her alone.

Even as they scrambled and fretted and berated on how he could just leave her, leave her as she harmed herself, leave her with them to bear witness in such a state, make them see her deteriorate during his highly demanded and heavily recommended absence: he did as he was told. He left her alone.

Leave her alone. You've done enough. Stay away. We don't need your help. What a idiot, a dumbass, a prick, a dick, an asshole, a jerk, a monster, a disappointment. You're not him, you'll never be him. He's never coming back, is he? What is the point of you if you aren't him?

Kick in the ribs, smacks on the arms, punches on the arms, hard squeezes on shoulder or hands, harsher pats on back, shoved into the wall harder and harder, choked even, guns always pointed, kidnapping Kira. Over and over and over and over and over again. It's no wonder his thirteenth - pr was it thirty fifth? - self didn't want to be touched by them.

It's no wonder why out of all the ones that grew to love Kira, platonically or not, he was starting to develop - wanting to or not - abulia.

The Doctor reached the doors of his ship. A long breath exhaled out. Warmth of the TARDIS. They should be gone now. His and Rose's necklaces and rings should work.

Yet again, mission statement. Do as you are told.

There was always that little light switch he would toggle. That abulia kicking in. So was Kira, he observed by word of mouth, that she had a better chance of combatting it based on the symptoms. Still combatting it.

Not him.

It's not about you. It's about what's good for Kira. It's all you should care about, without having to ask, without it having to be said. Like a machine, love should be automatic. Built in by default, without question. Just be quiet, just stay and shut up and leave her alone and stand up to fight for her but don't fight for her if it's against us who actually love her. This isn't force, this isn't confusing, this isn't bullying, we're nothing like kate stewart under the toymaker's thrall, how dare you, this is love. this is how you love. Don't share your thoughts, they are always stupid, don't share your opinions, they are always stupid, don't share your solution, they are always stupid or pointless, but do share both if it means you saving us again. This is how you love. This is normal love. This is healthy love. Why aren't you making her happy? Why aren't you him? The next one can do better. Replace you with you. Oh that you is gone? Replace you with you with you with you with you with you with you with you because there's has to be a him, they have to be better than you.

He puts on his coat once inside now as these thoughts continue. His face was emotionless though, cold even. He didn't speak. He just went around the white console, almost as if he wasn't really there. He didn't touch, he just watched how some buttons would light up or blink at him.

They have to be the improvement, they are you but, you can do better by doing exactly what we say. When we want it, how we want it, repeat the same baby making over and over for the same set of children reborn regrown because this one will be different this one doesn't put their foot down this one doesn't stand up for themselves the ridiculousness of our demands that refuse to be both at the same time. We're nothing like the not-things. We're better because we're worse, we love you and we only love you if you love Kira exactly as we want you to. Read our minds, read our cues, stay in your place like a good little experiment so we can do it again. Don't share your feelings, keep your feelings inside. Feeling are stupid. Moving past these feelings by sharing them and alleviating from it is stupid. How dare you show vulnerability to her and take it away from her sight, how dare you to expect her to do so in return. We don't share and by we, We mean you. You don't share so stop having secrets and share but don't share because she isn't sharing. You're not made to share, you're not made to express feelings, you are meant to be a punching bag of stupidity and love her and give us the same set of kids so we can die again but sadder or better over and over again with the Doctor after you and the next one after that.

Don't open up, that's what orphans are made for but, you being an orphan doesn't count. Being dissected anf killed over and over and over again by your foster kidnapper for profit and medical lobotmization via mind wiping and political brainwashing by every adult in of and out of the system catered to keeping you in this state will never compare to a lonely bitter old lady, other orphans lashing out because they were lashed on by those same adults before you, no, only love. We're nothing like Stephan, you are. Stephan had the courtesy to stay dead.

All for Kira. Only her. There's no two or three in a relationship with emotions to share with gripes with comparisons of aspects of people that you will never be with a quirk that reminds you of the abuser while surrounded by the every ilk of that abuser mindset but we are not them. How silly to think that. there is only one in the relationship and if it's not Kira, then there's another you that can fit it. Over and over again. We are never wrong, this is love. Love her. Grovel and love her. Do as you are told. Stay away and love her. There's always a Doctor for Kira, they will never be another Kira for them. Be quiet and speak. Apologize but stay the hell away. Bond but don't. Follow our demands, get hit for obeying, grovel and love her or get shot. Don't go. Just disappear. Be the nightmare we love to hate so, we can never help you be the dream we want you to be. The him you will never be and who we will never say. You have to mold yourself into them without us saying a word. Be the corpse we want you to be, not the soul you actually are.

What. The. Hell.

There was warm fuzzy memory of his Kira - a Kira before the merger but, it was gone within the next breath he exhaled. He petted the console then and stepped back out. He never left them but, they probably gone. He puts on a mask. The mask of idiot. The mask of being a prick. This is what they molded him to be. A thing behind a mask. Wear the mask when the universe that was gone because of the merger, you were the only survivor of it. A Masterless Doctor.

This isn't about you, this is how you love. Love, mask up. He hangs the coat back up before stepping out.

He saw people pool out of the funeral then, the pallbearers already carried Rose's father out with a dance and a song in a unfamiliar language in a bright yellow hearse. The TARDIS or himself haven't been here long enough to learn said language.

He saw Rose come up to him after talking with her Doctor and then to Kira and Emma and then apologizing about how Vin got there to Kira, Emma, Vin and Jenny.

After all, her mom wasn't going to apologize for her daughter's universe. Too involved. Sending food was better. His lips about to form the words 'sorry' before she shook her head. He noticed she wore an outerwear outfit. Heiress, indeed.

"Funerals aren't your thing. I know that."

"But, like I told them, thanks for showing up. For me. Just because I asked... or well, told you wh–"

"Stop, stop, stop." He caught where the apology actually stemed from. "It's not about us and our anti-quick-fix drama and me, Ria. You called, we come running. This is about your dad, babes. Go to him." He gave her a quick mourners hug and she nodded.

Rose understood. Walking away with hands in fists wrung to prevent her hands wringing each other before her Doctor led her to the family car. They were going go 'cremate' him - it's different here but, Rose wasn't going to think too further on what it entailed here.

Other attendees started going into cars and such, except Handles and Rusty who sort of flew off while the Doctor watched on. Vin gave a small nod 'hello' to the Doctor out of courtesy but, the Doctor gave a small salute back.

@girl-in-the-tardis but initially i had this drafted before tony todd passed away as a whole different thing but then he passed and i got sad and when i get sad, doctor who do dark comedy so heres ✨️dark comedy✨️

"And?"

"You will not ruin this simply because you were too chickenshite to aapologize and ask them to peg you in public and instead chose using my shit to avoid yours so, go handle it."

Rose was staring them down, unfazed but internally steamed at the audacity. Who were they to pop up at her dad's- well, step dad but, since they were the same... well, its fickle - funeral. An array of color was what was asked. Wear colors. This world's alternate Pete's family was in mourning and here they were in black.

It was already bad enough their Doctor came to attend - uninvited, mind you - to mourn a version's version of her dad. Though, at least it was clear no one could mistake the Doctor they knew vs the friend she made. She had a better cover story for him. But, for this lot? She can't use twin anything. Twin cousin, twin sisters, step-twins - or clones!

Unless they had perception filters on, they were rather shit out of luck.

She can't vouch for them but, hopefully their Doctor could. Still, appearences - she had to be 'mad'. He was making it difficult though but what else was new.

"And what? I didn't ev–"

That visual she gave shut him right up before he could finish his own thought. Turning about face towards his family. If they were even that anymore. She called it like it was and he couldn't correct her on that. Not now. Like a scolded child, he walked towards them.

[egyptroyal]

things a new (old/mutual/whatever) rp partner should know about me !

fun new meme here ! write 3-5 things a rp partner (or those who want to be) should know about you and tag 3-5 people! it should be related to rp and not to other interests.

I have a lot of muses all spread out on different blogs so, if I can’t choose one of your muses, I’m going to send in a meme for each of your muses. Out of my three primary roleplay blogs, there are four side roleplay blogs. Four of the muses being time lords and every regeneration - incarnation - is a muse of their own. Over at @themadvigilantist​ have 339 V muses, 89 Vin muses, 3 villains; sideblog @tardis500​ has 6 tardis oc muses, here, which is also a sideblog, I have 8 ocs, 12 canonical characters, 52 televised/comic/audio parody portrayals of the doctor. At @pennybraddock​, i have only 1 oc muse. At @drbabygirl​, i have 1 oc, and 4 canon characters. At @thebadtimewolf​, I have a singular time lord main muse with 15 human alternate versions of herself and one angel entity with @nosewitch​ being one singular side blog. Altogether, i have 533 muses, possibly more if I miscounted (or if the doctor ends up getting more that I missed then well shit, i’ll add them later as muses too. So, if you are someone that don’t want a spam of asks your way or thought I would just pick one muse out of your many, you are dead wrong on that and I might not be the blog for you. I’ll slap in a new muse left and right and then think I’m done only to add 20 more out of excitement just to forget about them later on. When I say I am excited to rp with you, I’m excited to throw a small village at every single muse you got unless you pick one first.

I am a very graphic and dark writer with the occasional smut (depending on the blog/muse), that does not censor or tone down their muse but, there are some limits. Just about all of my rp blogs deal with some very heavy subject material, which I tend to write out in great detail. This means you might come across descriptions of scenarios, that are very dark, graphic, disturbing or just drawn out as something that my muse realistically, no one would give/expect that kind of reaction towards in general. However, I have a limit and no, it’s not because it makes me unconfortable writing it, I just get...stuck. Okay, for example with my villain/neutral muses, I can’t write rape. I’ll write with someone that can write that particular subject but, I can’t write it myself because I don’t know how. Murder? You betcha and with detail. Torture? You got it and with trauma. Destroy an entire solar system while making the character feel wracked with guilt over the deaths of billions? Yeah, I can do that with detail on how it affected everyone else on a visual. Rape? Nope, nothing, same goes if you random anons want to just worse stuff, I can’t write it. Don’t know how, won’t know how. Now, that being said, I will never condone any of those behaviors that I describe but, if I can’t write it? Then pick something else. I can tag appropriately but, if my partner don’t tell me to cut to the next day or do fade-to-black in their following response, I’m going to describe that. Why I say depending on the muse is this: some of my muses are into fearplay/edgeplay but, the level where they were probably the reason some of their ‘interests’ are called risk-accepted consensual kinks which, for muses that are vile or evil, y’all gonna have to um, explain it that what you’re doing to them is not a dubcon situation but, a no-dont-get-off-on-this situation-this-is-my-scare-tactic. if you don’t, it’s gonna get real uncensored morticia/gomez real quick and you don’t want it. Other muses on the other hand will actually be scared so, choose (out of the collective 533+ muses) wisely. I’ll give you a list of who is in to what real quick, just ask/im me and i’ll find a generator that show just how much/little they’ll be into a thing.

I use either memes, open starters, greeters as an ice breaker but, also aiming to pre-established starters. So, I tend to make general starter for those that recently follow me in a way that anyone could respond to. I’m not shy to plotting but, for the most part, I’m just testing the waters. We can also im each other, send each other asks or whathaveyou. A jumping board that I might respond to one of your open starters or make a thread out of an answered post that you or I had sent to the other.

I don’t know how to godmod but, if you do it ...don’t be surprised that the muse is gonna fight back?? I only say this because I can’t write physical fight scenes with anyone because I’m so shit at those that I can now say that I have been accused of godmodding (2) twice in the span of a decade on this site by two ppl who (hopefully) live somewhere with free healthcare. Everytime I respond to how my character would counter an attack, there’s always that one person with their muse - that they are clearly in a fight scene - that only I get accused of godmodding out of nowhere. Despite when I look back at my responses on how I word things and I don’t see it (I still don’t. Is there an editor I can ask to look over and what I should reword here??) and the accuser fails to tell me to reword what sentence/paragraph to fix it where it’s not that. If I don’t get a response to what/where the specific bit in my response that made you think/came across as godmodding, then clearly you was godmodding too.                        OTHERWISE, WITH THE REST OF THE PPL I RPED A FIGHT SCENE WITH IN THE SPAN OF THE DECADE, THEY WERE JUST LIKE ‘OH THIS IS FUNKY AND FUN! *CUE TO US VIBIN OVER ANGST IN TAGS WHILE ALSO POKING FUN AT OUR MUSES AND SHIT*’ AND LIKE WE COOL SO MAYBE IT’S NOT MY WRITING STYLE, IT’S JUST YOU MISREADING THE TEXT PRESENTED TO YOU AND NOT ASKING ‘hey what you mean by [action/thing]? could you like rewrite that? i don’t get it, it didn’t sit right could you rewrite it?’ I’LL DO IT, I’LL FIX IT. HELP ME SEE WHAT YOU SEE?? INSTEAD OF JUMPING TO THAT ACCUSATION WITH NO EXPLANATION WHEN A THREAD DON’T GO YOUR WAY?? IT’S NO ANNOYANCE/BOTHER FOR ME TO FIX MY MISTAKES BUT IF YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT THE MISTAKE IS (while consciously choosing to just point out that in some part of our thread to say only ‘stop godmodding/that was a little godmod-y’ when a muse of mine don’t react/act indifferent to yours and their actions) THEN HOW AM I SUPPOSE TO GET BETTER, DO BETTER, AND BE BETTER IN MY WRITING WITH YOU IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE REPERCUSSIONS/REACTION OF MY MUSES CHOICE OF RESPONSE?? ok that’s out of my system                                  anyway don’t-don’t-don’t godmod but also, if you think im godmodding when i can’t tell where it is on either side ahahahah, u better fucking tell me which paragraph/sentence i fucked up instead of just throwing that word around when you can’t handle when muses don’t automatically shiver at the sight of yours. if anything, they already been there done that over it.

I’ll make a manip, gifset, draw our muses for our muses. I do that. I do that a lot. Ask me, I’ll do it. I’ll submit/send the drawing privately but, manips and gifsets: I put that on display. I will. Ask me.

Tagged by: @blindeddevil

Tagging: @city-full-of-ocs @idontdosecondchances @takumishinobi @paigeatyourservice @girl-in-the-tardis @followthedrums13 @gingersrockstheuniverse @destinybitten @lonelybxstards @theiracademydaysareover @theserpentsjester & anyone else that wants to/sees this

my entire mood @ #4 but, it was made at 3 AM and i don’t have the voice but, the vibe of yvette nicole brown because i got into community again

[egyptroyal]

more about the doctor because wow this works for every regeneration now:

so like from [here], i was reading to find out about any chance of the doctor (or the master. any gallifreyan really.) being able to produce a kid by human means (sex like normal ol’ human sex) and then i instantly went: i read this too many times and i keep forgetting, no matter what headcanon i conjure up in my head or with other people or whatever, I ALWAYS FORGET

ABOUT

THIS

EVERY

TIME

yeah i legit screenshot the definition so, i have a headcanon:

that the doctor can not produce a kid. in or out of the tardis. like humans can produce a time kid by human sex in the ship (melody is the best example we got) or out of the ship (like capt. jack/javic)  and even more so, can’t produce a kid (by normal human sex means) while fobwatched. 

like yeah, that john smith and joan stuff is all hella dope with the kids and aging and everything but like john doesn’t even know that he’s stertile but the dr do so LIKE WE TOTALLY DODGED A ANGST BULLET TRAIN WITH THAT OMFG.

SHIT WE’RE NOT EVEN SURE IF JOHN TENTOO NOBLE-TYLER CAN PROCREATE WITH ROSE AT ALL LIKE WE MIGHT NOT HAVE ROSE AND TENTOO NOBLE-TYLER BABIES LIKE

*cries because at this point we don’t know if they have babies and is probably why in the audios tentoo is full on outwardly making it sound like rose is gonna be a new religion just by how he gush about her and that hint of donnaselfdoubtofhimself* or jenny. can jenny have babies? we know susan had one son and he was mostly human. so like can jenny have babies or she sterile like her dad? i have a lot of questions

plus like the one time the doctor met two people (or one person still unsure about that) that could reproduce with him and he made like 26 (or 13 from one person each) kids in one go and only one of those kids reproduced and got susan.

what i’m saying is that:  hell no you are not a kid of the doctor by normal means, are you fucking insane. in ONE SITTING THEY HAD 13 (or 26) KIDS WITH ONE PERSON FUCK THAT NOISE WE ARE NOT KILLING OFF YOUR HUMAN/GALLIFREYAN MUM THAT WAY

so the headcanon is that, everyone is being artificially inseminated in the ship or loomed as a visual baby. everyone.

the doctor, no matter the face, is infertile. 13 is unable to have kids, 12 through 1 and any other are unable to have kids. 

the only thing my portrayal will accept is if you come up to them and say you’re their kid to their face and they will adopt you and call you their child forever.

or if the doctor pulled what bruce wayne did to produce terry and his brother in batman beyond and basically used their dad, altered the genetic DNA make up of said dad and produce children that way. which is another plausible way for the doctor to be your dad

unrelated but related: thirteen will be a proud dad. call her dad. give her dad gifts and she’ll love you infinitever. she already has the mug. im sure the doctor has like other dad things. like a dad shirt or something.

[egyptroyal]

WHAT IS YOUR POSITION ?? !!

original characters versus canonical characters:

Original Characters

Canonical Characters

Tagged by: @themadvigilantist​

Tagging: whoever wants to