#some musicians I know are real morons

[justabandaid]

“Musicians are really very intelligent people, and that's the way we (groupies) treat them; not like studs”

-Pamela Des Barres-

#groupie #pamela des barres #some musicians I know are real morons #i’m with the band

[winxrewritingsandfictions]

Misunderstanding

Pairing: Bloom x Sky, Bloom & Andy,

Rating : T

Genre: romance, friendship, love

Length: short.

Who would have thought that living on earth would have been a nightmare for the boys? Not only were they facing troubles, but they could absolutely not fit in this society. Hell, Timmy out of them all had found a job easily...

Their relationship with their girlfriends had deteriorated immensely and that was a shock. Riven could barely control himself. He was jealous and anxious at all times. Brandon was angry and desperate to make up with Stella. And Sky wanted nothing more than to behead that Andy guy.

Tree boys were barely on speaking terms with their girls. Here they were, sitting like morons on the Fruity Music bar stools listening to Andy's group getting ready for the night. Sky could not even glance his way, let alone listen to his voice every single night. He had discovered a side of himself he loathed more than anything. The jealous and arrogant kind of the prince. A little voice in his head had been born in the last months, telling him stuff that before would have put him to shame.

At school, he was far from being the only prince. He could at least remember seven other princes all spread out in all grades. However, out of them all, he was the most influential one. Heraklion was massive when it came to its power and its money. Being an alley to Isis, Domino and a few other kingdoms did have its perks. However, Sky was very different from those princes. He absolutely despited the royal conception of classes and power. His dad had forced him into adopting it, but Sky was not conservative, classist doctrines and it showed a lot in school. In comparison to the other royals, he never showed off, preferred to hang out with "normal" people, and hell, he had ditched a princess for a "commoner". But now, at that precise moment, he was frustrated. The little voice in his head was telling him to show Andy how rich, how smart and how powerful he truly was. This was not him.

"Merlin, I sound like my dad..." He wishpered, dropping his head in his hands.

"What"?

"Nothing Helia, Forget it." He mumbled back to his friend.

"Well, i dont know what happening to you but Andy is coming toward us and I don't think he wants a glass of water."

At this, Sky straightened his back and looked at the dark-headed musician. True to Helia's words, Andy was coming toward him. He rolled his eyes and could not stop himself from tightening his jaw, a flash of the musician hugging Bloom coming to his mind.

"Hum, hey Sky. I just wanted to ask if I could speak to you real fast?"

A few swear words came to his mind. "Get the hell away from me" he wanted to scream at him, but he stopped himself. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Riven's face getting red. Oh how fun it had been to bond with Riven over the common enemy.

"It's about Bloom, I think I need to clarify a few details with you."

Sky thought he could punch him. He hated how her name sounded in his month. Disgusting. Sky felt someone nudging him and saw Helia's eyes on him. He sighted loudly and followed Andy outside of the bar.

"Alright, you have five minutes." Said the blond, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Yeah, right. Sooo..." Andy was struggling. The guy was bigger and taller than him and it did make him uncomfortable. Not mentioning the way he carried himself. That was intimidating. Andy thought he looked like some emperor walking around the place. Well, the truth was close enough... "I wanted to clarify the situation with Bloom and me... I know I did say we used to date, and it's not completely false. But, the thing is, it was a very long time ago. I don't feel that way about her at all." Seeing Sky death glare, he understood that he needed to give more context. "The thing is, I love messing around with her. Telling Stella and Musa that I used to date Bloom was just a sort of... Inside joke, you know?" He cracked a smile expecting the same from Sky. Well, that was certainly a failure. "What I mean is that I do care about Bloom" Sky tensed. Wrong move he thought. "Buuuut, I see her as a friend. A little sister."

"What the f-"

"Wait it sounds a bit wrong like that considering you guys all think we actually dated." Sky was now lost. "I mean we did. But we were like eleven and I think it lasted like tree weeks..."

Sky's mouth dropped. He looked at the musician, completely lost. He would not even call that dating...

"It was just a way to annoy Bloom you know... Tell her friends I was her ex... It's not wrong but, I mean, hum, not true either. Like it wasn't serious at all. We were kids and had no conception of what love or a relationship were."

"I don't understand... You always hold her hand, you hug her..." Sky was loosing his patience.

"Because that's always the way we behaved. Listen man, I have known her for years. Like maybe since kindergarten. And we always did that. So yeah, I get it, it does send the wrong ideas, but that's not what we are. Bloom isn't like that"

"I know that, thank you." Sky cut him.

"I know dude. I'm not doing this for you, but for her. She hates what's going on but she's mad at you for jumping to conclusions. I also know how stubborn she can be. Believe me when I say that she made our childhood hard! You guys don't know how times she would get into fights because she was too stubborn. The girl could not contain herself..." Andy laughed at the memories of a small Bloom, pigtails and all, running after other kids to show them how right she was.

Sky took a deep breath, he certainly did. But how could he not? Stella had said he was her ex. And Mitzi had been telling him the same over and over. Maybe she was truly evil like the girls said. Oh how fucked was he... Understanding his reaction, Andy patted his shoulder quickly and left him alone. He did not want to be around when the couple would discuss their issues. Still, he left, a small smile on his lips. He liked the guy.

-----------------------------------------

This one was in my drafts for months. I much prefer this version over the mess season 4 was...

Here are some similar ff :

Witch love

The Queen's Garden

rain on us : Part 1

A nightly routine : Flora/Helia

#winx #winx club #winx bloom #skloom #bloom x sky #season 4 #FRIENDSHIP #fanfiction #my writing

[bllsbailey]

Too Dumb for Harvard? Lemon's Too Dumb for Twitter

Interviewing Elon Musk this week, former CNN host Don Lemon demonstrated the real-life consequences of affirmative action.

Interestingly enough, Lemon himself is an affirmative action beneficiary who miraculously hung on at CNN despite committing one moronic gaffe after another (maybe he's just got television magic!). The only CNN on-air personality to handle himself worse was Jeffrey Toobin.

Lemon was baffled by Musk's claim that "if we lower standards for what it takes to become a board-certified surgeon ... then more people will die than if we don't lower the standards, therefore we should not lower the standards."

This was apparently Lemon's first encounter with the logical sequence known as a "syllogism."

Lemon's response: "Do you understand how by saying just that standards are being lowered that you're implying that they're being lowered because people are less skilled and less intelligent, and you're talking about people of color?"

What on Earth do liberals think "affirmative action" is? (And when I say "liberals think," of course, I'm speaking figuratively.)

Does Lemon understand that when universities fight like wildcats to hide their black students' SAT scores, they are also kind of implying blacks are less skilled and less intelligent?

Last year, during the part of a multimillion-dollar lawsuit known as "discovery," Harvard University finally coughed up the data. If -- you'll pardon the expression -- "newsman" Lemon had followed the news, he would know precisely how much standards had been lowered for black students.

Applicants in the top "academic decile" (GPA plus standardized test scores) were accepted in the following percentages: Asians: 13%; Whites: 15%; Blacks: 56%. Perhaps more jaw-dropping, in the fifth academic decile -- not quite Harvard material -- the percentages were: Asians: 2% (musicians); Whites: 3% (football players and Jared Kushner); Blacks: 22%.

Recommended

People who've been paying attention were shocked. Good lord, who are the 44% of blacks in the top academic decile who DON'T get into Harvard? What kind of horrendous character defect do they have? Do they all submit "Cill My Landlord" as their personal essay? How can it not be 100%?

Nonetheless, Lemon asked Musk, "Why do you think they're lowering the standards for minority doctors?" To his credit, at no point did Lemon cry out, "I thought we agreed there'd be no math during this interview!"

The Manhattan Institute's Heather Mac Donald has been documenting the total abandonment of standards at medical schools for years. Before choosing your heart surgeon, you might want to review the statistics she's laid out most recently in her book, "When Race Trumps Merit."

In 2021, the average white score on the MCAT was at the 71st percentile. The average black score was at the 31st percentile.

Whereupon medical schools began dropping the MCAT altogether. Henceforth, some students (guess who?) would be offered admission on the basis of their "strong appreciation of human rights and social justice," as The Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai puts it. In other words, would-be physicians can now skip those chapters on chemistry and physiology as long as they watch the Source Awards.

The lowered standards persist throughout medical training. Step 1 of the United States Medical Licensing Exam (USMLE), given after the second year of medical school, allows students to begin practicing medicine and "matches" them to a residency. But it seems that the average score for black students is a full standard deviation below the score for whites and Asians.

Although the test is multiple-choice and graded by computer, in January 2022, the USMLE dropped grades for Step 1 and converted it to "pass/fail."

So now, instead of medical students being matched to specialties that play to their strengths, they are randomly assigned to residencies for which they may have little aptitude or interest. You know, the same way they assign on-air talent at CNN. It's a brilliant way for training the next generation of doctors.

Also, starting next year, open-heart surgery will be graded "pass/fail."

Responding to Musk's claim that the "probability that someone will die I think at some point is high," Lemon said, "but that's a hypothetical that doesn't mean it's happening."

In fact, it already has happened, countless times, all over the country -- but notoriously, to the most famous affirmative action doctor of all: the black applicant who took Allan Bakke's place at the medical school of the University of California at Davis. Here was an incompetent black doctor whose medical errors couldn't be brushed under the rug, though affirmative action proponents did their best.

Dr. Patrick Chavis openly admitted that he never would have gotten into medical school without UC Davis' affirmative action program. Sen. Teddy Kennedy, The New York Times and the Nation magazine all touted Chavis as an affirmative action success story! Unlike Bakke, who went to work at the Mayo Clinic, Chavis was serving a disadvantaged community and "making a difference in the lives of scores of poor families," as Sen. Kennedy said.

Yes, he was making a difference in his patients' lives, mostly by shortening them. Dr. Chavis' liposuction surgery left one patient bleeding, vomiting and urinating uncontrollably. But instead of taking her to a hospital, he let her bleed in his home for another 40 hours. By the time she managed to escape and check herself into a hospital, she'd lost 70% of her blood. (To be fair, she looked amazing when bikini season rolled around!)

Miraculously, she lived, as did most of his other liposuction patients who ended up in the emergency room. One, Tammaria Cotton, did not.

But the affirmative action cover-up can never end: It took the California medical board a year to suspend Dr. Chavis' license, with patient advocates screaming bloody murder at such a pathetically slow response.

You think Bakke could have killed a patient to so little fanfare?

The New York Times took no notice of the affirmative action doctor's grisly liposuctions, except a brief notation in his obituary years later, after he was gunned down in an attempted carjacking. In paragraph 7, the Times extravagantly described Chavis' medical malpractice thus: "He was accused of mistreating eight liposuction patients, one of whom died."

Or, as Lemon repeated on autoplay: "There's no actual evidence of what you're saying."

Then there was Martin Luther King Jr. Hospital in South Central Los Angeles -- or "Killer King," as the locals dubbed it. A "symbol of justice and political power to many black people," as the Los Angeles Times put it in a Pulitzer Prize-winning story, "the majority of its staff has always been black."

"Entire departments," the Times investigation found, "are riddled with incompetence, internal strife and, in some cases, criminality. Employees have pilfered and sometimes sold the hospital's drugs; chronic absenteeism is rampant; assaults between hospital workers are not uncommon."

Despite having "abnormally high salaries for ranking doctors," Killer King paid out "more per patient for medical malpractice" than any of the state's 23 other public hospitals or medical centers.

So there's loads of "evidence" that affirmative action kills, despite the best efforts of our universities, medical system and media to hide it. Of course, if you mention the evidence, you'll be called a "white supremacist."

See? No evidence.

[zellersmicrodick]

Well, Canadians, use everybody, they can if they won’t get caught

If the person is poor, they will use them most certainly

CTV is basically made from slavery

But I also want to point out that some of these people are not getting all of the things they weren’t even though they thought yesterday they were going to be the fudgy little sex symbol because they had a butt chin

That’s not working Kimberly

That was never going to work

I smell a lot of charity because people like you moving forward will never work in the movie industry. You will simply be killed with the rest of the children. You guys let’s get killed yesterday

Yeah cause that’s what I said Kimberly. I said that we should get killed yesterday because you’re a fucking moron bitch kill yourself please

Jesus Christ, your father once you’re dead he said he wants you dead honey

It doesn’t really matter if Chuck wants me dead, or not, because Chuck is a retard. Chuck is only in a nice house because of Rebecca Cooper right now.

Chuck is a very ungrateful and stupid, stupid man grandfather you must be just about the dumbest Motherfucker, I have ever met in my life honey.

You’re not worth training because you’re that much of a fucking embarrassment grandfather I hate both of you to be honest with you, you steal from me my entire fucking life

Give my essence to some fucking fat hooker called Kimberly Brown. No you’re not.

That’s another thing is that Valerie is not an attractive woman and she’s okay if you’re into white teeth, but that’s the only thing she’s got to offer starvation and white teeth

Yes of course, I’m angry that she cannot respect boundaries. She believes in human slavery, but she doesn’t have everything she needs either. Somebody doesn’t appreciate her very much besides just me

 I need to call you more often, I guess because I’m not good at calling anybody

I don’t have her number anyway, Sarah, and that other fake plastic one, the incest girl, Cara

I don’t need you guys to steal from me, and you are going to pay for the fact that you’ve practised human slavery

Like I’m not your slave and I was a child, and I’m not here to be your slave child

So when I go to Canada, I promise you honey, I’m going to phone you and Sarah McLachlan because I’m tired of your fudge trash Sarah McLachlan. You were never anything important in the first place you make me sick and my stomach

Hey Sarah, why don’t you suck my dick you fucking hooker what would you suck anyway oh you would try to influence me to smoke marijuana so that I don’t hit that high note honey do you think that I didn’t hit that high note in the first place I said hit and you know what sweetheart, if you’re going to push me like that, you’re not even a real musician, you can have your throat slit

[orangevinegars]

People like Dennis go blank because they can’t cross that line. I don’t care if you thought you had a part of a piece of a pie that you were not a part of that does not make it so

You can’t play chess, and even if you can play chess, you can’t play very well. Do you know who am I to judge well I guess that’s who I am a real fucking person with a real brain instead of being a sheep Drive suspect that somebody give you a lobotomy when you were a small child, because you found people who were mentally handicapped, sexually attractive, and I kept noticing that you absolutely were drawn to women who are slow slow

Wait, I’m sorry you’re telling me that he’s into extremely slow. Are you talking Beatrix kiddos comatose slow?

I have a feeling that some people a lot smarter than Dennis, and all of those morons would protect me because I have a couple of gifts that are useful. Besides, just some Sylvia Browne bullshit people like Dennis spend their entire lives, being nuisances to society, sexually harassing and abusing women taking sexual produce. I guess you could say that’s the most American bullshit thing I’ve ever seen. Do you know what I mean Dennis do you really?

The Natalie Imbruglia thing cracked me up your wife, thinking that she actually had any authority to cross that line, any of those lines like who the fuck is she she’s not a musician, she’s not a scholar she’s not a writer she’s not a woman of a well-to-do family

Looms are very expensive so expensive I have, how expensive

[ofinnocencemusic]

Watt’s A Follower

If you find yourself desperately hemorrhaging the soulless acts that shade over the widening void of anxious unknowing within your balls aching life, you might seek the useless slide and swipe of looking among this page and laughing a broad gape at what your dimming eyes observe. This sorrowful brood of a bearded, self serious magnum nothingness, who sends up unsexy posts like a man afraid of what he’s doing, and is thus so painfully self aware about the worthlessness of it all - and the fact that not a single collection of organs on this burning marble cares at all about it - that he’d rather manifest a screaming fit within himself in order to mindlessly fall into a readied pit of existential emptiness than trapeze anywhere near this grotesque multi headed beast of a masturbatory gore fest, otherwise known as society’s death spiral. This more-prick-than-kick musician, holding as equally an ambiguous set of means for achieving any form of something resembling success as he does a perverse delusion to feel as though he has a means of convincing you that he’s worth your attention, has some small number of questionably real and unreal so called followers; these sort of born and unborn, shadowy and god-awfully blatant, algorithmic and disarmingly latent, sour amalgamations of internet gray matter and corporate made addictive media substance; out there, they float, in the great dark absent, murmuring something in your abstract direction, making you feel as if you are seen and heard and felt - you sad human, yearning for attention - yet they leave you wondering whether you’re interacting with a limbless, faceless, pulseless whimper of a ghoul named Nancy (also known as music_panda0.9), who was conceived by your vote for an orgy of white capitalists and collects your plugged-in existence like Craig’s List surgeons collect organs from casualties of a shit healthcare system, all in the name of building a vague vertebrae of another dollar for some demon named Musk or Zuckerberg. Someone, anyone, please take a flamethrower to this mass grave: something horrific is playing out too perfectly here.

Let’s see all of this catastrophe for what it is: it’s the forever slipping slope to nowhere and nothing. The chasm and casket are too close and too far all the same, and therefore none of us know what the hell we are to do with our pitiful selves except to live life stupidly and pretend we’re joyously alive while we’re at it. We exist as if we’re real, and going about it a thousand kisses deep into plush salvation - but if that’s really where we are, then why are you or I here, looking for anything but time to kill while it kills you and I? You know what eases the pain we face? Rain. You want to know how to bandage your brokenness? Walk the meadow, the hills, the moors, the forests. You need to swim for sinking? Crash down on the banks of a river and weep yourself to peace. Don’t look around the corners of media for acceptance or understanding - I cannot, not anymore, and nor can you, though we all certainly wish we could. But then why am I doing this? “Posting”? To post, like a staking through the flesh of the non-divine anatomy - a post into the ethereal numbness of moronic malaise. Why do any of us commit to this penetration? Promote, market, roll tape, release date, promo, video, photo, audio, algorithm, manipulation, data breach, world war, mass execution, hyper-normalization, fascism on your doorstep, deny-deny-lie-lie-lie-god help us or forget us and let us go please-why? Why? Why? I don’t know. Because, I suppose, it’s what people in the music consumption industry tell me is worth doing in order to find an audience. It’s what keeps me feeling just insane enough to think any of it matters to anyone but me; an audience that likes what I do - likes what any of us have to offer - and might like it so much that they want to hear and see and share in more of it. And by like, I mean to say, is for someone to actually listen, study, and maybe even enjoy what you or I create, thus making use of the naked ape’s collection of senses that it might use to truly experience something - and not this modern redefining of “liking”, which is as real of a function of humanity as any of this social media is analogous to intelligent and sane interaction. But here we are, considering what it is now to be liked, or appreciated, or seen, or made worthwhile: they are happy days, I say, when my audience of approximately 10 vomit up a “like” on something I created, which feels like another round of thrusts in the breeding of this cannibalistic bacterium that’s adding more infective capabilities to our deepening cesspool of a growing wound.

What am I saying here? Who’s to say? You’re to say. I’m complaining maybe, madly bitching while eloquently raving, or simply pointing to a problem we’ve all come to stare down in our black mirrors. This leaves me with no other choice but to throw myself into coming to terms with being proud to be solely an expert at what I do and what I create, and probably never being widely known for it. I’ll never make a career or paying wage from my music, and anyone who tries to claim that speaking this way is but a sure fire way of never succeeding has clearly never sat alone in a silent room without giving in to the escape of the nearest form of distraction in order to gum up their fear of feeling too much of our meaninglessness. True meaning comes from recognizing your place in the vast array of momentarily being here at all, and for however long that is, and otherwise you make whatever meaning you can muster up through all of the forces that we are so convinced must be working against us. We don’t know what is and what isn’t out there: we’re just faced with apocalypse, is all, and our pretending it isn’t as dangerous as it keeps telling us it is. I’m eagerly awaiting the hard rain, and for the music to travel from my mind to the page and finally to the recorded format. I’ll do this part too and place no great value in it, except for maybe meeting one person some day who finds something worth their time within what I create and share. Otherwise? Everything is born but astride of a grave.

#write #writer #author #creator #music #musician #pessimism #absurdism #anger #resentment #bitterness #unknowing #lost #unsure #trying #failing #leaving #losing #searching

[spookyc]

i'm kind of interesting in your cryptid au - what type of monster is each character?

Glad you asked and I'll be happy to answer! I'll also try to explain why I chose each cryptid for each character.

Alright let's start with our protagonist, Hajime, this one is pretty simple, he is a shapeshifter. This is one is pretty self explanatory, as it's meant to represent Izuru possessing every talent where as here Izuru has the ability to possess the forms of his fellow freakshows. He is one of the most anticipated acts in the freakshow, but constantly transforming his body everyday for the audience does a number on his psyche, eventually bringing Izuru out.

Nagito: As I revealed in an earlier post, was a vampire. I chose this due to his general appearance and also his condition of being sickly. I also chose it to form an interesting dynamic for Nagito. See, as a vampire, Nagito needs to drink blood but a vampire's powers increase when they are hungry, so hope's peak intentionally starves him for his shows. So, nagito grows more unhinged from starvation, and starts thinking of feeding off the freakshows. But he still has his hope complex and worships the freakshows. So he's caught in a struggle of his body and his will.

Chiaki: Now she isn't exactly a cryptid but I like what I decided for her. So she's a TV head, which I chose due to her gaming fixation but also because she was an AI, which is sort of the same here, albeit more of a kiibo situation where she is an AI in a physical body. Her shows aren't as elaborate as the others, mostly consisting of her showing emotions through the swapping of channels and playing videos games in her mind which is portrayed on her TV screen. She doesn't have as severe issues as some of the others but she faces her own problems as an AI among humans.

Ultimate Imposter: Simple enough, he's a doppelganger. This is of course referring to him being the ultimate imposter, the only real change being that his true form is that of a gray amorphous blob. His shows consist of him copying the other freakshows, though it differs from Hajime tho, as UI can only morph into people and is restricted to morphing into those he knows whereas Hajime can shapeshift into anything, even things he has not seen.

Teruteru: So, quite an odd choice, but one I'm quite pleased with. So Teruteru is a basan, or a japanese fire-breathing chicken. As for a human form, he doesn't have one, he's just a fire-breathing chicken who's a great cook, the jokes make themselves. He's still a perve but less so simply due to most of the forms the freakshows take, only really having his eye on Peko and Sonia who are both very capable of killing him with a single strike so he keeps his cards to his chest as it were. His acts of course consist of feats of fire breathing and dual acts with akane.

Peko, my beloved: So Peko is a gorgon, in the sense that she has the bottom half of a snake. I chose this because Peko reminds of a snake in the best way possible. She's fierce and mysterious with piercing eyes that cut through your soul. As for abilities, she does possess the stone vision of gorgons, but she can control when she uses it, and she doesn't like having to use it. Just because she doesn't use her stone vision doesn't mean she should be underestimated tho, she still is a pro swordswoman and is arguably more adept than she would have been with legs. She has a dual act with Fuyuhiko, more specifically an arena type duel. Of course they don't fight to the death but any injury they sustain is fair game. Peko of course always objects to this but pushing hope's peaks buttons risks detainment for a freakshow, ultimately, she doesn't have a choice.

Mahiru: Okay so, she was really hard but I decided on making her a nymph. This is because I imagined that being able to blend with nature would be able to help capture people in their most natural state, in regards to her photography of course. Her acts are also not the most eventful, just her blending with different natural surroundings. That's honestly about it, wish I had more but Mahiru has always been a blank slate for me.

Ibuki: Ibuki! So, ibuki is a Siren, this is pretty obvious, as I chose this due to her being the ultimate musician. However, I do have an interesting dynamic with her and her ability. So, since sirens usually have melodious voices and show their victims what they desire most, I wanted to flip that on its head. So, since Ibuki doesn't exactly have a melodious voice, (a great voice, yes but not melodious nonetheless) her power doesn't show those what they desire but instead their deepest fears. This causes Ibuki to hide her singing, excluding her acts, and to grow self-conscious of her aspiration for music. Her acts consist mostly of water tricks and of course her singing, which audience members say they get a thrill and a since of comfort being able to face their deepest fear. Ibuki thinks differently, wanting her music to encourage and inspire people rather than send fear through them. And that is her central conflict throughout this au, which I'll end off here for sake of brevity.

Hiyoko: Pretty pleased with what I decided for her. So Hiyoko is a kitsune, I chose this because of her noble lineage and I think the kitsune is a pretty noble animal, despite having some cursed elements. She was still forced into the whole dancing thing, which she mixes between her human and fox form. But, her mischievous nature fits that of the kitsune as she's still her normal abrasive self. She tries staying out of her fox form as much as possible as it reminds her of her lineage that she hates but she of course has to transform into it for her acts. These consist of fire tricks as well as a showcase of mastery swapping between forms.

Mikan: Alright so Mikan's is kinda wild but stay with me. So Mikan is a lich and here's why. So I chose this for her because I know I wanted her to be undead, because she would constantly have to patch herself up. Decided on a lich to give an air to her that something isn't quite right, that she holds more power that she let's on and simply doesn't express it. Also I have some extremely dark reasons as to how she became a lich but I won't get into that here for brevity's sake.

Nekomaru: So Nekomaru's pretty fun, he's a minotaur mainly just because I think it fits him, and he definitely gives off jovial bull vibes. Despite his appearance he still has his joyful personality and still takes pride in his talent of team leader. His acts consist of feats of strength primarily, nothing much besides that.

Gundham: So Gundman is an imp, because he definitely deserves to be a demon but he's gonna be the lowest demon there is. Cause I still want to emphasize his whole "overlord complex" despite him just being an imp. He does still have his hamsters and he takes very good care of them, the four dark devas live a fulfilling life even if their master doesn't. Gundham can perform some lesser demon abilities like changing his appearance, in terms of pigment, small fire control, and flight. Of which he showcases in his acts. Even tho he's just an mere imp he is the Supreme Overlord of Ice and he will not accept any other titles.

Fuyuhiko: Finally! We have arrived at the boy, Fuyuhiko. So, Fuyuhiko is a werewolf, because he's an angsty boy and because I like werewolves. The story plays out much the same way as before, though Peko was assigned not just to protect Fuyuhiko but also to protect him from himself. His acts consist of arena battles with Peko, of which he always intentionally loses. He's able to transform each day to a drug they inject in him before every match that forces a transformation. These drugs make him agitated and irritable, more so than usual and also causes him extreme mood swings. Even if sometimes he wishes he could be detained, he stays for Peko. He knows she wouldn't forgive herself if he was taken away, regardless of her involvement, so he stays in this condition. It isn't all bad tho, spending time with Peko outside of the area isn't so bad. He also is often found hanging out with Kazuichi, who Fuyuhiko refers to as a "fucking moron" and yet still hangs out with him most days. They've formed an unlikely friendship that the two cherish even if Fuyuhiko won't admit it. He also has a pretty good relationship with Ibuki, her being Peko's girlfriend and all.

Kazuichi: Okay, Kazuichi, so Kazuichi is a gargoyle and man how I got there is a story. So I wanted Kazuichi to be something constructed, something manmade in a way so that he could rebuild himself as well as other things. So orginally he was a golem but I just couldn't vibe with that so I ended up settling with a gargoyle. I do think it fits him in a way, not sure how, but it suits him imo. So he's got the standard gargoyle abilities, he's got wings and can fly and can also change into his stone form at will. He prefers to sleep in this form, and he often turns into this form when scared which is often. His acts consist flying around the stage and testing the endurance of his stone skin. He also has a close relationship with Fuyuhiko and of course Sonia, though he doesn't see her as often as he would like.

Sonia: So, Sonia's is very different but I really like it. So she is a basilisk, not the serpent one but the more giant chicken with a serpent tail. Her cryptid form is one that affects her in and out of her form, and both are just as deadly. So since she's a basilisk, she has lethal vision and this is active in and out of her form. So she walks around with a blindfold on, and she has yet to see any of the her fellow freakshow's faces. She also is kept within her enclosure at almost all times, she's only let out about twice a day and these outings don't last long. In her basilisk form she easily stands 20-feet tall, with a wingspan of 25 feet, her feets are huge and equipped with deadly talons. From her beak she leaks venom that is capable of causing a limb to be amputated with a single drop. Not as lethal as her vision, but enough would easily be able to cause death. She doesn't perform, merely has visitors come and visit her in her basilisk form. She's very lonely, wishing with every part of her that she wasn't cursed with her form, but she does appreciate the visitors she gets. Chiaki and Akane often come to visit her, Kazuichi also comes by often, Fuyuhiko having to drag him off when he's overstayed his welcome. She holds on to her friendships, as it's all she really has.

Lastly we have Akane, so I decided on making Akane a dragon. For one dragons are known to have a voracious appetite, and two, Nekomaru in the main story talks about Akane having untapped potential, which I think would fit her as a dragon. Yeah, so contrary to Hiyoko, Akane primarily stays in her dragon form, even when just walking around the freakshow traveling caravan. She's not a huge dragon as she still isn't fully grown, so she's only slightly bigger than the average person. This is partially her just preferring her dragon form, (doesn't have to wear clothes, can fly, can eat more), but it's also because if she's a dragon no one can objectify her. She doesn't have to deal with the male gaze if she's a dragon and she quite likes it that way. Her acts consist of typical dragon shit, flying, feats of strength and a dual act with teruteru for fire breathing, (she can't breathe fire herself so she places teruteru in her mouth like a mama croc does with her babies and he does all the work. Before you say anything, teruteru actually doesn't get any perseve enjoyment out of this, or at least he doesn't anymore, just gets an excuse to take a bath).

And that's about it! Had a lot of fun coming up with these guys and I do have a story in mind for them if you'd like to hear. I also will answer that ask about the talentswap, I know it's been a while and I apologize for that but I have an excuse to work on it now so I'll get to that. Thanks for the ask!

#danganronpa #super danganronpa goodbye despair #cryptid au #hajime hinata #nagito komaeda #chiaki nanami #ultimate imposter #teruteru hanamura #peko pekoyama #mahiru koizumi #ibuki mioda #hiyoko saionji #mikan tsumiki #nekomaru nidai #gundham tanaka #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #kazuichi soda #sonia nevermind #akane owari

[c0rpseductor]

i think it’s most frustrating to me bc aside from that one fucking line i actually kind of really liked i/me/myself? like, i kind of related to it from the opposite perspective, since, like, there’s some common ground between “cis man exploring a different label bc of the idea that femininity = not being male” and “trans man being raised into and literally forced to pursue femininity,” but it was immediately a slap in the face to hear that stupid fucking line. i frankly find it massively irritating that will wood thinks he’s totally absolved of transphobia because he didn’t Mean It That Way when, within the context of the song, the implication seems to be “all trans people are morons who don’t realize you don’t need to be trans to be gnc, just like i was! all identities are for morons! lol pronouns? cuck!”

he literally says about that particular line, too, like, “No matter who or what you see yourself as, it’s not real, and you should consider the possibility that you’d be happiest to free yourself from it.” i think it’s downright fucking fascinating that this plays really well into narratives designed to discredit trans people (”you can just quit being trans, why not give it a try?”) and yet is supposed to magically be Not Transphobic because it supposedly includes cis people, despite the entire song being about trans stuff. it is frankly fucking impossible for me to read this any other way no matter how many times this pompous jackass insists it’s because of some ridiculous cobbled-together cosmic philosophy. i need to stop reading things about musicians i like on genius lyrics i don’t want to know about these people ever

[disneyprincessbuffyannesummers]

Please, get an education. If you seriously think misha can get sued, then god help you. For real, look up and investigate what it is you post, otherwise you end up looking and sounding like a moronic idiot.

I wonder if you know what copyright is. In which a piece of media is protected by it's writer/artist/musician.

People & Companies like: Eric Kripke, The CW & Warner Bros., owns Supernatural. Sure, Misha gets money from things with his face on it. However, if were to write a poem (implied to be about C*s), Eric, The CW or even Warner Bros., could sue.

He could say he got inspo from the show, like some say.

However, if he were to get papers from Eric or The CW or even Warner Bros., and he could be sued for using a copyrighted character they own.

It's kinda funny I have to explain something to someone when it's so easy to look what copyright is and why Misha could get sued. That's what I said.

I will admit I'm not the brightest bulb when it comes to certain things.

Then again, google is free.

#anti misha #law #eric kripke #supernatural #anon #asks #ask #hate mail

[amarantine-amirite]

Out of Words, Out of Songs, Out of Ideas

I got a real surprise today when I got the recording studio at my school.

No lie, when I first saw it, I actually said, "What the fuck?!" I was just lucky that there weren't any teachers around, otherwise I would've heard, "Language, Camille" and have to drop 25 cents in the swear jar.

I shouldn't have worried about a teacher overhearing me. I should've been worried about Zoe overhearing me.

I never got along with Zoe. Zoe is one of those people who refuses to take responsibility, gives pathetic excuses, and either ignores consequences or downplays them. Worse, she talks down to you like you're stupid. "Noticed the piano, huh?" she said.

I nodded quickly. "Why the hell are all the keys the same color?"

Zoe did the thing where she talked down to me like I was stupid. "The school district was worried that people would think the regular piano keys are racist, so they painted them to match the wood casing."

I couldn't believe what she said. In the name of racial harmony, they painted all the keys of the piano the same color. If it didn't actually happen, I would have thought it was a joke.

I should never put it past the school to do something like this. I remember we had twins in my fourth-grade class named Benjamin and Daniel. They went by Ben and Dan. We also had a Chinese kid in our class (James) that had a learning disability. Alphabetically, he came right before Ben and Dan.

I didn't play with Ben, Dan, or James that often. I only really remember their names because of this one thing that happened.

One day, when the teacher was taking attendance, he called James's name, but James didn't hear him. Frustratedly, he moved on to the next two people, Ben and Dan. He said, "Ben, Dan"

"Ben, Dan" sounds like the Chinese phrase for "idiot". When James heard the teacher say this, he ran out of the classroom in tears.

They had to put Ben and Dan in separate classes over this. I don't know what happened to them after that. All I do know is that people are far more willing to bend over backward to avoid stepping on toes than you think. "Do they not have a little voice in their head that says this might be a bad idea?" I squealed.

Zoe shook her head. "I understand that you're upset. I get that. Things are a little messy right now. But sometimes, things have to look a little worse before they look amazing," she said in her trademark condescending tone.

I need my visual signposts. Making all the keys on the piano the same color just takes them away. And I'm far from the only person that thinks that. The reason pianos have different colored keys so the person playing them can tell the difference between the natural and semitone pitches. "Zoe, this isn't a little messy;" I said way louder than I should have, "this piano is now unusable."

Dorothy walked in. "What's all the hubbub?" she asked.

I pointed to the piano. "The school thinks it can combat racism by painting the keys on the piano the same color." All they've managed to combat is the musician's ability to consistently play the right notes.

Dororthy looked at the piano. She looked at me. She looked at the piano again, and then she looked back at me. "You know, Camille" she said, "You can't come down from a high you were never on."

I nodded, even though I had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Sometimes, people say something insightful. Other times, it sounds insightful, but it falls apart the minute you try and parse it. "You can't come down from a high you were never on" falls into the latter.

I guess it could mean that you could never come back to reality if you never left reality in the first place, but I'm not fully sure. The more I think about it, the more I realize that it's one of those phrases that sounds deep and meaningful, but when you really look at it, it's just painfully confusing. "I get that, Dorothy, but can you explain to me what that's supposed to mean?"

I think she tried to say, "for everything, there is a season. There is a time for everything, and now is not the time for that." Basically, she tried to respond to a thought terminating cliché with another thought terminating cliché. But try as she might, she just could not get the words out. She wound up saying, "For everything, there is a season, a season is time of growth"

That sentence made so little sense that I burst out laughing. "Excuse me, what? Care to explain what this is supposed to mean, because I think I just had an aneurysm trying to decipher this."

Dorothy repeated what she said. "Everything has seasoning, but if you special the time, it is a growth."

"You're not making any sense"

By now, she started to get frustrated. "I said, for every season, a season is time of growth."

"That made even less sense than before," I said. I wanted to say "I've listened to drunk people who were far more coherent than that," but kept it shut. And for good reason. When she tried to speak again, nothing came out. No sound. Radio silence.

All of a sudden, it hit me. She wasn't dodging the question or being evasive or anything like that. She was actually having a stroke!

It spooked me. One minute, somebody's brain works fine. The next, it just comes to a grinding halt.

It could have been much worse. Even though she couldn't talk, at least her face wasn't drooping. Now was still a good time to call an ambulance, as time wasted is brain wasted.

I called 911, and they put me on hold. The hold music was "Staying Alive" by the Bee Gees. In the time I was on hold, Dorothy downed an entire bottle of water and began frantically signing to anyone who was watching. This might sound weird, but I felt a huge wave of relief watching her sign. She signed with both arms, the ASL equivalent to speaking with both sides of your mouth. Zoe looked at her and said, "I'm sorry, I don't speak Helen Keller." Dorothy got all pissed off, gave Zoe the finger, and stormed off to that corner of the room with the bead curtains.

Once I finally got off hold, 911 put me through to this guy whose last job was probably working as a bellhop in a second-rate Torquay hotel. "Hello? Hello, 911. How are you today?"

"Uh," I responded, "my friend Dorothy is having a stroke, how do you think I am?"

He blinked in confusion hard enough that I could feel it on the other end of the phone. "¿Que?" he said.

Growing ever more frustrated, I repeated, "Dorothy is having a stroke!"

I thought he'd understand the second time. But no, he did not. "¿Que?" he said again after a long pause.

I grew frustrated. It was almost like he couldn't remember what his job was, let alone the nature of my emergency. "Dorothy. Stroke." I reiterated in an annoyed fashion.

"OK, I see," he replied. He seemed to finally understand what I had said. "You friend Dorothy having a stroke."

"Yes!" I said. Finally, we were getting somewhere.

Or so I thought. I couldn't believe the next words out of the guy's mouth. "We no have time for you wild goose chase"

"What?!" I said, completely taken aback.

"We no have time. We no believe you. Very, very sorry. Goodbye!"

I went behind the bead curtains and sat down across from Dorothy. "Well, that was a bust." I said.

"Why didn't you bring your guitar?" Dorothy signed.

"My amp still isn't working" I answered.

The amp broke in the first place because some moron plugged it into a car battery. If you plug a guitar amp into a car battery, it will explode. I took it to the repair shop to get it fixed. They said it was ready for pickup, but it was exactly the same as it was when I went to pick it up as it was when I brought it in.

"I thought you had it fixed."

"So did I." I showed Dorothy a picture of the amp before I took it in and after. She looked at it and laughed.

"So Dorothy," I asked, "what did you mean when you said you can't come down from a high you were never on?"

Dorothy nodded. Those were the last words she said before she had a stroke, and it seemed she couldn't hear them without crying. She steeled herself and signed, "It means that if you don't know what you're expecting, it doesn't make sense to get upset when your expectations aren't met."

Good, I thought, we're getting somewhere. That said, she still can't talk. "I might call 911 again" I said.

Dorothy nodded. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."

The good news was, I didn't wind up on hold. The bad news was, I wound up dealing with Manuel The 911 Operator again. "Hello, 911, how are you, is nice day"

"OK, no" I said, "Not nice day. Dorothy can't talk."

"¿Que?"

"Dorothy have stroke. Now, Dorothy no talk."

Not only did he recognize me from before, he still didn't believe me. "Oh, it's you," he said in a very annoyed tone, "We no believe you. How many times? Where are you ears, you great, big, halfwit?? We no have time, listen?"

For a brief moment, the line went dead. The operator picked up again. "Now you understand! So bye bye, please, bye bye." Nice. Then they hung up on me again.

I came here to record a song. Not only did that not get done, I had to fend off political correctness gone mad, deal with a 911 operator who knows nothing, and witness a close acquaintance lose her voice because part of her brain stopped working.

I can't believe I snuck out of geography class for this.

@leopard-prompts

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #short story #creative writing #FindTheWriters

[toonytoodles]

Random fun fact time! Ft. OCs! (Repost because I added more/ edited a lot of stuff)

Avery -

- Sneezes like a kitten, and most of the time she accidentally uses her fire breathe when she sneezes, so watch out

- Sleeps on a rock

- Is made uncomfortable by actual dragons, it's just... too weird for her...

- Has a strange and inexplicable extreme fear of eels

- Reacts to fear by singing/humming/speaking very loudly, and also by running and screaming (basically, how markilpler acts when playing horror games? yeah that)

- At least once a week her dad has to help her brush through her hair, he says they should get it cut but she absolutely refuses

- Owns a few pairs of gloves- most of which look nearly identical. Some are for different days, some pairs are for bedtime, and some are for special occasions, but she also has some different types and styles of gloves for different events

- Loves the holidays, dislikes the weather that comes with it

- Absolutely hates people touching/messing with her tail, even if it's by accident she gets kinda mad. That's hers- don't touch it. (Emma's the only exception to this simply because it can't be avoided- although Emma does try to touch it as little as possible)

- Slightly allergic to pollen

- She has a clicking-like purr

- If you scratch under her chin she'll purr and relax, but if scratch a certain spot on her neck she'll sleepily fall over

- Adopted as an egg and raised by her human father and fairy mother

- Has a Scottish accent 

- Works as a Glazier (glass blower) and makes potion bottles, also helps with making the potions, and occasionally costumer service and boring stuff like stocking/inventory

Emma -

- Plays with hoodie strings and/or hair when upset or nervous (it happens often, her hoodie strings are sorta worn out)

- She's a big fan of animals! Especially bears, puppies, and unicorns, she thinks they're adorable! When she was younger she used to like dragons quite a bit too

- She's a protective friend and big sister, and she's a little over protective over people she cares about

- Tends to read into things; if your tone or demeanor is slightly different she begins worrying that something's wrong or that she did something. She also tends to believe that no one actually wants to be her friend or wants to be nice to her, but that they're only being nice because they're afraid of her or pity her.

- LOVES HUGS!!! Absolutely loves them, hugging other giants, hugging people smaller than her, getting hugs, giving hugs, she loves hugs

- Once accidentally ate a fake candy cane decoration, off someone's front lawn, because she thought it was real gigantic candy, left out for giants (she was like four, so it made sense to her then, but she still gets made fun for it a bit by her family)

- Loves snow and winter

- Her favorite color is probably blue

- Is surprisingly good at sneaking up on people, for someone 30ft tall she's quiter than most borrowers

- Is the second oldest of five kids, her older brother Rory is 23, her younger brother Richard is 15, and her youngest sisters Aroura and Tiana are 6 and 8, and they're all pretty close

- Her dad is a size shifter, and so are Richard and Tiana, the rest of the family are giants

- She's ambidextrous

- Very cautious of her surroundings

- Hates surprises/being scared

- Bi-romantic and ace

Sofia -

- Can write without looking at what she's doing

- Only wears slip on shoes or shoes with Velcro/zippers, she never learned how to tie them, she couldn't figure out what to do with her head or look at what she was doing

- She's an artist! She likes to paint!

- Has a hard time saying "no," so when she says it, she means it

- Hates surprises and people sneaking up on her

- Has a pet python named Albert

- Probably the only person on the planet who has worse anxiety than Emma

- Don't call her "Soph" or "Sophie," and she gets mildly annoyed when her name is misspelled

- Typically uses right arm to carry head and left hand for everything else

- Has a weird sense of humor

- Has a million stuffed animals, has like 20 on her bed, but Rupert the blue bunny is her favorite

- She has an enchanted scarf that allows her to wear her head when needed, she doesn't usually use it because she's not used to it & it gives her anxiety (she's scared of the scarf falling off/being taken off unexpectedly) but she has it and uses it on occasion, mostly at home

- She doesn't let anyone else hold her head, it seriously freaks her out, her dad is the only exception, but Avery held her once for a group photo (her body took the picture)

-She loves singing and has a soft beautiful voice but is too shy to sing around anyone 🎶

- She was bullied when she was younger and doesn't like to talk about it, she already gets emotional easily and those memories hurt

- She loves Avery's jokes and has a bit of a weird sense of humor

- She's adopted, she lives with her human father (another fun fact, her dad is one of Avery's parents best friends!)

- Unlike Avery, she wasn't adopted as a baby, she was about 6-7ish when she was adopted

- Loves vegetables

- Gets embarrassed easily

- Doesn't go out of her comfort zone, she only does stuff when Avery basically forces her to

- She really likes Emma, but is also sorta scared of her sometimes, she's just scared of people and being looked at, so she can be a little overwhelming without meaning to be, it's nothing personal and she knows Emma wouldn't hurt a fly, she's just scared of people and sometimes Emma is a lot of person

- Doesn't want Emma to hold her (Emma respects it, although sometimes they work it out to where Emma can give her a gentle hug)

-Her favorite season is fall

-She loves rabbits and frogs, but won't admit she loves horses (there's a stereotype that all dullahans love horses, she won't give in)

-Hates confrontation

-Loves vanilla cake

-Hates strangers and people she's not comfortable around being anywhere near her

- Pansexual

- Sorta has a voice claim, but it's weird and sorta difficult to explain?

Andie -

- Has a French accent (picked it up from dad)

- One of my only OCs to have a voice claim

- Plays the flute

- Mean, selfish, and self centered, but somehow also a good person

- Sings sentences sometimes

- Scared of turtles

- Works as a bard/waitress at the family tavern

- Unfortunately she is heterosexual

Andy -

- Somehow didn't pick up their fathers accent

- One of my only OCs to have a voice claim

- Plates the lute

- Genuine and kind hearted, but also a bumbling moron

- Dreams of being a song writer, wants to be a professional musician

- Works as a bard/waiter at the family tavern

- Bi, but prefers women

Clementine -

- A book worm

- Likes to sing

- Practices magic, knows a few interesting spells

- Sometimes her and Avery fight over magic usage vs. potion usage (they know it's a dumb fight, but they don't care, at this point it's a joke)

- She's a white tailed deer

- She has great hearing, and is usually very aware of her surroundings

- She wants to be a magic professor as an adult

- Demisexual, pan, but prefers men

Pond-

- Elementals don't really have gender, she chooses to present as female and use female pronouns

- Can't "see," but rather senses vibrations, since she's made out of water she doesn't have eyes, but based on other senses she can get around just fine

- She can't smell either

- Doesn't care for romance

- Has 4 pet fish she keeps with her, named Karl, Frank, Phillip, and Fish

- She has a baby sister, Brook

- She's odd and can be off putting unless you know her pretty well, then her weirdness is sort of endearing

- She can tell her friends apart by the way they walk and their gestures, and of course their voices, but really has no idea what any of them look like, she knows their species and the normal traits of those species, but not much outside that

- She doesn't eat or drink

- Smart, but sorta reckless

- Sorta hard to hug :( but the others still try

Sapphire -

- Has minimal size shifting abilities, but prefers to be her true size, she loves sitting on her husband's shoulders or in his pockets (She's about 5ft in her bigger form)

- Used to be an adventurer, at one point she was a pirate

- Met her husband on one of her adventures

- Has a Scottish accent

- She has a sword her size (no it's not a toothpick or a toy or anything, she has an actual tiny sword) 🗡

- Makes potions for the shop and deals with customers

- Grew up outside of Tradeskeep, her and Kal retired from their adventuring career and settled down there

Kalvin -

- Used to be an adventurer/ mercenary

- Huge, ripped, has all kinds of scars, but his 4" tall wife is scarier than he his, he's basically a teddy bear

- Makes potions, does restocking, inventory, and doesn't as much anymore, but makes potion bottles

- Has scars/tattoos from various adventures

- Used to have dragon scale armor, he once saved a village from a dragon, but has sold it and no longer tells the story, he now claims it was a bear

- He's a great dad ❤

- Loves ale & meat, but not as much as his girls

- I cannot overstate how much he loves his family, he LOVES his wife and daughter, like a LOT, it pretty much defines who he is, he's a family man

- Met his wife while on a quest

- He used to be a nomad while adventuring and getting paid for jobs, he'd wander from town to town, until he settled at Tradeskeep and put up a shop

Ok so i know that's a lot, but it's there for anyone who's interested in all that ❤ I have other facts too, so if you wanna know any more just look around on my blog or send an ask, Q&A for OCs are open, and I'm open to art/writing requests/ideas! ❤

#toonytoodlesocs #avery trowbridge #amelia mcconnel #sofia hodges #clementine moores #pond the elemental #sapphire and kalvin #andie & andy

[tigirl-and-co]

Tagged by @paprikat​ (thank you so much!!!)

Tag eight people you’d like to get to know better.

Favorite colors: mostly blues, especially teals, and blues like you see on my sona. I also love a light purpley-blue, like the colour everything is just before the sun comes up. You know the crayola crayon blue-green? that. Lavender and silver are also strong contenders

Last song I listened to: ‘The Science of Selling Yourself Short’ - Less Than Jake

Favorite Musicians: wow ur really gonna make me submit myself to the terror of being known, huh. Okay buckle up lmao: The Highwaymen (and also all of them by themselves), Big and Rich, The Dixie Chicks, Alestorm, Babymetal, Blue Oyster Cult, Rainbow, The Mountain Goats/John Darnielle, The Oh Hellos, Jimmy Buffet, KitCaliber, Rotteen, My Chemical Romance, Joe Hisaishi, Shiro Sagisu, Prince Whateverer, whoever the FUCK composed for Wind Waker, and like, a lot of others but I think u get the gist. There’s no set sound 

Last Film I watched: Village of the Damned (1960)

Last show you watched: GOTHAM, BABEY. wait, actually it mighta been The Owl House haha

Favorite Original Character: THALIA, my DBZ OC. I just, I love her so so so so much? She deserves all the good in the world. People keep betraying her but she never loses that openness to let people into her life. Also she Fights Real Good and likes heavy metal and is the alien equivalent of age 10-14, her species is developmentally different from humans and it’s totally not just me being indecisive.

Sweet, spicy or savory: ???? ALL??? PLEASE??? I like adding sweet and spicy stuff to my meats. I made this rlly good pork loin one time that I had soaked overnight in peach wine and canned peaches and then slathered with peach bbq sauce before cooking it and it was so fucking good but like, I wish I had added spicy stuff. I bought some dried Carolina reapers and crushed em up and put them on chicken, it took me like 40 minutes to eat one little bit of chicken but it was so good.

Water, tea or coffee: TEA. I BUY SO MUCH TEA ALL THE TIME CONSTANTLY. Adagio Teas has my number lmao. Sometimes I do it quick and dirty in the microwave if I’m using bagged tea, otherwise I brew it. I have an electric kettle :3

Pets: Jack Russell Terrier, named Teddy Bear! :3

he looks like babey (and he is) but he can also be very r00d and will step all over u and sometimes sit on your head like his butt is a hat

hhh okay so idk who has done this and who hasn��t and also I don’t wanna bother people but here I gooooooo @bees-self-ships​ @thatgirlwiththeglasses13​ (I think you may have done this already? but my brain says u won’t be annoyed if I tag u so you’re getting tagged) @mister-misfit-and-his-internet​ @instantcrushez​ @moron-selfshipper​ @smol-girl-shipping-the-world​ uh uh um idk if I’m close enough with anybody else to tag them that you didn’t already tag so I guess if u see this and wanna do it, do it and tag me

#teddy bear #TiTi Talks

[snappedsky]

Fanatics 78

Pepito’s band prepares to play for a festival.

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

--

The Spring Festival

           The blaring of an alarm knocks Pepito out of his sleep. He rolls over, groaning as he slaps his phone, shutting it off.

           As he sits up, he checks the screen. No notifications.

           He sighs heavily as he checks the date. “One week since Squee left.”

           Later at Skool, Pepito glowers depressingly at the lunch table, poking at the mystery meat from the cafeteria. Zim, Tak, Dib, and Gaz glare at him wearily.

           “Irk, you’re pathetic,” Tak snaps, “get over it already, will you? You think Squee would like it if he knew you were like this?”            “Well, Squee’s not here to know anything,” Pepito retorts, pouting.

           “You make me sick,” she hisses.

           “As much as I hate to agree with Tak,” Zim says, “she has a point. You need to pick yourself up already. You’re an embarrassment.”

           In response, Pepito sticks his tongue out at him. Zim irks and prepares to attack him but Dib holds him back.

           Gaz side-eyes Pepito as she plays her Game Slave. “Has he called you at all?”

           “Nope,” he replies.

           “Have you called him?”

           “Of course not.”

           “Do you think he’s lying around all depressed like you?”

           “Huh?” Pepito questions, glaring at her.

           “Probably,” she replies, “but he has every reason to. What’s your reason? You miss your boyfriend?”

           He flinches, offended. “Well…I can’t help it if I miss him.”

           “Maybe not. But you also have no reason to drag the rest of us down with you.”

           “What are you-?”

           “You know the Spring Festival starts next week,” Gaz says, cutting him off.

           “The…Spring Festival?” Pepito questions.

           “Seriously? You haven’t heard?” Dib asks, “Mayor Von wants to hold a bunch of events in the city and he’s starting with the Spring Festival. It starts next Friday and goes all weekend. There’s gonna be a bunch of vendors, rides, events.”

           “Like a live music event for volunteering musicians,” Gaz adds.

           Pepito blinks blankly. “Live…music…?”

           “Moron!” she barks, making him flinch backwards. “Maddie sent me this because she was too scared to show it to your mopey face!”

           She shows him her phone. On screen is a poster featuring a large, brightly lit stage surrounded by the words: “Calling all musicians! Want a chance to showcase your talent in front of a live audience? Then sign up for the music event at the Spring Festival!”

           Pepito just blinks as he stares at it.

           “Get it now, idiot?” Gaz snaps, “because of your petty feelings, you could’ve missed this. So what are you gonna do now?”

           Pepito stares ahead blankly for a second before scowling with determination and drawing his phone.

           Pepito: can we do a band meeting at your place tonight

           Carmen: No problem~!

           Pepito quickly sends a text to their other bandmates before lowering his phone. Then he takes a deep breath and grins.

           The others all smile with relief.

           “About time,” Tak comments.

           That night, Pepito, Carmen, Maddie, and Colton get together to discuss the festival. Thankfully, it’s Friday and next week is Spring Break, so they got lots of time.          

           They spend the rest of the week determining their set and practicing. It’s the hardest they’ve ever practiced. This is tremendously different from their last gig, which they played in front of a bunch of drunk partiers who would’ve loved anything. This time, the pressure is real. But they’re all excited.

           Next Friday quickly rolls around; the first day of the Spring Festival. So they decide to take the day off and join Zim, Tak, Dib, and Gaz at the fairgrounds.

           The majority of the festival is taking place in a large park. The first day is all about the vendors. Booths have been set up all over the field with vendors selling all kinds of things: food, clothing, toys, and more, all homemade. And the place is packed with fairgoers.

           “Wow, this is a total hit,” Carmen comments.

           “Yeah, Von’s really pulling out all the stops,” Dib adds, “I’m impressed.”

           “He’s taking his job as mayor seriously,” Pepito remarks.

           “Tch. I would’ve done better,” Zim says bitterly.

           They spend most of the day wandering around, perusing the booths. Into the early afternoon, as they pass a seemingly random vendor, a familiar voice calls out to them.

           “Hey, kids.” They turn towards the booth to see Devi sitting behind it. Spread out on the table are tons of prints, all painted by her.

           “Devi,” Pepito smiles as they approach. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you. You changed your hair.”            She grins as she runs her hand through her new haircut. It’s all black with the right side hanging down to her shoulder and the left side shaved down to a buzz cut. “Yeah, I finally did it yesterday. Cool, right?”

           “It totally is,” Colton agrees excitedly.

           “Yeah, very punk,” Carmen adds, “I should get a cut like that.”

         “You got your own booth? That’s cool,” Gaz comments, “you got it for the whole weekend?”

           “No,” Devi sighs, “just for today. I couldn’t afford the rent.”            “Well, one day is still good,” Dib says as he flips through her prints. They’re all dark and often of monstrous creatures. “You sell much?”

           “I’ve only had a couple customers,” she replies, “I think I scare most people away. But the ones who do like my stuff buy multiple.”

           “Your art is really good,” Maddie says in awe.

           “Hm,” Pepito hums with consideration. “You know, I’ve been thinking for a while we need some kind of design on the bass drum. Could you paint us something?”

           “I’d love to help,” Devi replies, “but I’m indie now. You’ll have to buy a commission.”

           “How much?”

           She leans back in her chair, rolling her neck. “You know what, I’ll give you a discount. 75 bucks.”

           Pepito glances between his bandmates, who all nod agreeably. “Deal,” he says, “ah, but can you do it before Sunday?”

           “Why?” Devi questions.

           “We’re doing the music event,” he smiles, “and it’d be awesome to show it off for the first time then.”

           She nods agreeably. “Alright. But I’ll need to the pay first.”

           Pepito, Carmen, Maddie, and Colton quickly dig around in their pockets. They divvy up their cash until they have seventy-five dollars and drop it on her booth.

           “Fuck, you guys work fast,” Devi comments, “alright. I’ll get a couple designs ready and tomorrow you can choose one to paint on.”

           “Sweet,” Pepito cheers and the others grin excitedly.

           They leave Devi to check out the rest of the vendors. While she waits for customers, she opens her sketchbook and gets to work on some designs.

           The next day, most of the same vendors are still set up, but the nearby street has been closed off for fair rides. A small rollercoaster, a ferris wheel, a drop tower, and a few different spinning rides have been set up; also fair games and food vendors.

           The kids are excited for this one, ready to gorge themselves on rides and junk food. But first, the band has business to attend to in the seating area.

           Devi is there waiting for them. She passes them her sketchbook as they sit across from her at the picnic table.

          “Pick one,” she says, “I can have it painted today and it should be dry by tomorrow morning. Plenty of time for you to set up for the show.”

           “We all have to agree,” Carmen points out. Pepito, Maddie, and Colton nod and they open the book.

           Devi sketched out four designs, all of them darkly themed and featuring the band name ‘Hellz Rebels’. It takes a few minutes of deliberation before they finally decide.

           “This one,” Pepito declares, handing her back the book.

           “Okay,” Devi nods, “I’ll just need access to the drums and I can get to work.”

           “They’re at my apartment,” Carmen says as she grabs her house key. “Take my key. My dad’s at work right now but I’ll let him know you’re there.”            “Cool. I’ll let you know when I’m done,” Devi waves before leaving.

           “I’m feeling pretty excited,” Maddie comments.

           “Me too,” Colton nods, “but can we go on the rides now?”

           The rest of the day is spent riding the rides, eating junk food, and playing games. By the end of the day, they’re all pretty wiped. But they’re not so tired to not go to Carmen’s and check out Devi’s finished work.

           “What do you think?” she asks as she cleans up her painting gear. “I finished a little bit ago. Make sure not to touch it so the paint dries.”

           Pepito, Carmen, Maddie, and Colton all smile excitedly as they look at the new design on their bass drum: a large claw painted as if it’s smashing through the drum, with its fingers folded around the words ‘Hellz Rebels’.

           “We are so ready for tomorrow,” Pepito smirks.

           The next morning, the band gets up around eight and, after breakfast, meet at Carmen’s place. They load the drum kit into her dad’s truck and he drives them to the fairgrounds.

           The events don’t begin for another two hours, but the field is already busy with all the musicians. Pepito and the others make their way through the crowd with their instruments to the event coordinator.

           “Name?” she asks.

           “Uh Hellz Rebels,” Pepito replies.

           “Right,” she says as she looks over a clipboard. “You guys will be on at 2:00. You can leave your instruments behind the stage but keep an eye on them. We’re not responsible for any stolen property.”

           “Alright, thanks,” he nods and they head across the field to where the stage is set up. Lots of other bands are hanging around the back with their instruments.

           “So we got a long time to wait,” Carmen comments.

           “Yeah, just chill I guess,” Colton shrugs as he sits in the grass.

           They all join him as Pepito fiddles with some kind of speaker device.

           “What’s that, Pepito?” Maddie asks.

           “A recording device,” he replies, “I’m gonna attach it to the mic when we go on so we can record our set and send it to Squee.”            “Oh, that’s a good idea,” Carmen remarks.

           “Yeah, it’s too bad he can’t be here,” Colton points out, “he would’ve loved to watch us.”

           “Yeah, it would’ve been nice knowing he’s in the crowd,” Pepito says and gestures with the recorder. “But this is the next best thing. And I think he’ll appreciate it.”

           The others start to agree when they’re interrupted by a sudden ruckus; somebody shouting in frustration. Everyone peeks around the stage to get a look and sees a person, a teen boy in Goth attire, getting angry at the event coordinator.

           “I demand to be let on!” he barks, “everyone must here my voice!”

           “I already told you,” the coordinator argues impatiently, “you didn’t sign up and we’re completely booked. We have no time for you.”

           “Blasphemy!” he snaps, “censorship! I will not be held down!”

           Without another word, he stomps away, leaving everyone to stare after him, baffled.

           “What a tool,” Pepito comments and the others laugh in agreement.

           Zim, Tak, Dib, and Gaz arrive later, around eleven. Much of the same vendors are still there, but new ones are too selling music related items, like CDs for the indie bands playing today. They wander around for a bit before heading to the stage, where the musicians have already started playing. Currently up is a saxophonist playing some soulful jazz.

           “Looks like there’s gonna be a lot of variety,” Dib remarks.

           “I only care about Maddie,” Gaz grunts as she takes out her Game Slave.

           “Human music is so unappealing,” Zim comments.

           “You like Pepito’s music,” Dib points out.

           “That’s different,” he insists.

           “Why do you call it ‘human music’?” Tak scoffs, “Irkens don’t even have music.”

           “Other species do,” Zim points out, “I happen to enjoy Screwnat music.”

           “Wow, you really do have no taste.”            While the Irkens argue and Gaz plays her game, Dib happily bobs his head to the music. He may be here to support Pepito and the others, but good music is still good music so he might as well enjoy himself.

           He’s interrupted however, when someone shoves their way through the crowd and bumps his shoulder.

           “Hey,” he whines but the person ignores them and keeps heading towards the stage, muttering angrily. Dib stares after them and notices they dropped something: a flat, black rock about the size of a hand. Dib picks it up, flips it over, and gasps. On the other side is a magical rune painted in red.

           “Zim,” he says.

         “-the simplicity is the best part. It allows the listener to not need much thought to listen to it,” Zim argues, ignoring him.

           “You don’t need much thought in general,” Tak retorts.

           “Zim!” Dib exclaims.

           “What!” Zim barks, “I’m in a very heated discussion.”

           “Look,” he orders, handing him the stone.

           “What it is?” he asks.

           “It’s a witch’s rune,” Dib replies, “somebody just dropped one as they were walking towards the stage.”

           “What’s it do?”

           “I…don’t know. But it can’t be good.”            “Hmm,” Zim muses as he stares at the stone.

           “Maddie texted to me that somebody was really angry that they couldn’t play today,” Gaz says.

           “Could the event be in danger?” Dib asks.

           “Ugh,” Zim groans, “we better investigate before Pepito goes on.”            The others nod and they push their way through the crowd to the stage. There’s plastic barricades keeping the audience a couple feet away from the stage, and dropped in the space are three more of the runes but these ones are glowing, and no sign of the person.

           Dib quickly scoops up all the stones and the team examines them.

           “It’d be better if we knew what they did,” Tak points out.

           “Give me a minute,” Dib demands and opens Zim’s PAK. He reaches inside and pulls out a big textbook titled ‘Supernatural Items and Facts’. Many pages are marked with tabs. He flips through it and stops on a page with many similar runes and explanations.

           “Here,” he says, pointing at the same rune as on the stones. “The Explosive Rune.”

           “Well, that’s self-explanatory,” Gaz remarks.

           “They can be detonated from a short distance away when activated,” Dib reads, “that must be why they’re glowing.”

           “We need to destroy these,” Zim points out.

           The team quickly scurries out of the crowd to an empty part of the field. Then Dib drops all four stones on the grass and Zim blasts them to bits with his spider legs.

           “Somebody’s trying to destroy the stage and ruin the music show,” Dib declares.

           “It must be that weirdo Maddie was talking about,” Gaz adds, “he must be trying to get revenge for not being allowed to play.”

           “We have to find him before he tries another stunt,” Zim says.

           “But how?” Dib asks.

           “If he wants revenge, then he must be nearby to watch the explosion when it goes off,” Tak muses, “which means he would’ve seen us take the stones. So…”

           “Hey!”

           They turn at the shout and see the Goth boy causing a ruckus earlier marching up to them.

           “Bingo,” Tak nods.

           “What do you think you’re doing?” the boy snaps.

           “Us?” Dib retorts, “why are you trying to blow up the stage? You could hurt people, maybe even kill them!”

           “If I can’t be allowed to sing, then nobody can!” he barks.

           “You’re the one who didn’t sign up on time,” Gaz points out, “this is your own fault.”            “I will not be tied to bureaucratic rules,” he argues, “and nobody will stop me from getting my revenge!”

           “Listen, you worm,” Zim snarls, “this whole event has made Pepito finally stop whining about Squee being away. And I will not let you ruin this for me!”

           “Zim,” Dib scolds.

           “And Pepito too, I guess,” he adds indifferently.

           “You think you can stop me?” the boy scoffs, “I am a witch! A powerful, magical being! You normal humans have nothing on me!”

           “Jokes on you,” Zim retorts, “half of us aren’t even normal humans!”

           “Whatever you are,” the witch snaps as he reaches into his coat and pulls out a wand. “I’ll reduce you all to dust!”

           “Watch out!” Dib cries and the Battalion dive out of the way as the witch fires a bright green bolt from his wand. It leaves a small crater where they were standing.

           Zim and Tak both snarl as they skid across the dirt. Zim draws his laser guns and Tak’s robot arm shifts into a cannon and they both take aim before firing.

           The witch swings his wand, deflecting their beams, and fires another one at them. They jump out of the way and continue firing.

           Meanwhile, Dib and Gaz watch from a few feet away.

           “Dammit,” Dib snaps, “we don’t have our weapons.”

           “I keep an extra bat in Zim’s PAK,” Gaz says, “but I don’t think I’ll have a chance to get it.”

         “We have to take him down before Pepito goes on,” he points out, “we can’t miss his show.”

           “Well, Zim and Tak should be able to handle this,” she retorts.

           The witch sends the Irkens scattering with another blast before waving the wand around himself and chanting, “icken bicken licken might, give me the power of flight!”

           Sparkles waft around him as he levitates off the ground, going higher until he’s nearly over the trees. Then he flies around like a bug and continues blasting at Zim and Tak below. They both cry out in frustration as they struggle to dodge.

           “Dammit, they’re hopeless,” Gaz groans and shouts at them, “it’s two on one! Take him down already!”

           “Silence!” they bark back and dodge another beam.

           “He’s not giving them a chance to attack,” Dib observes, “there’s gotta be something we can do to help. Maybe cause a distraction to get his attention so they can hit him. We have limited options though. If we could find another weapon then-.”

           Before he can finish, Gaz yanks his textbook out of his hand and whips it at the witch. It clonks him in the side of the head, making him cry out in pain and surprise as he falls to the ground.

           “That works,” Dib shrugs.

           Groaning in pain, the witch lifts himself out of the dirt. He looks around frantically for his wand before spotting just a foot away. But before he can grab it, Zim steps on it, breaking it in two. The witch glares at him and Tak as they stand over him.

           “Now, who’s getting reduced to dust?” Zim growls as they ready their weapons. But a voice stops them before they can fire.

           “Robbie?” A girl in a Goth Lolita dress emerges from the trees. “Robbie, there you are!”

           “Bianca?” Dib questions.

           “Who?” Zim grunts.

           “She’s a witch in our class, remember? She tried to force Squee and me to tutor her for finals a couple years ago.”

           “Eh.”

           Bianca barely pays them any mind as she passes by and grabs the other witch- Robbie- by his ear, yanking him to his feet.

           “What do you think you’re doing?” she snaps, “causing so much trouble?”

           “It’s not my fault,” he whines, “they wouldn’t let me sing.”

           “I told you to sign up yesterday,” she retorts, “you didn’t listen. Let’s go, Auntie’s looking for you.”

           “Wait! They broke my wand!”

           “Good, you deserve it.”

           “Wa-wa-wa-wait!” Zim barks as Bianca starts to walk away. “What’s going on here?”

           “This is my stupid cousin, Robbie,” Bianca replies, “I’m sorry for any trouble he caused. My auntie will deal with him.”

           “So we’re just supposed to let him go?” Dib questions, “he was gonna blow up the stage with explosive runes.”

           “You tried to use explosive runes?” she barks, smacking Robbie upside his head. “This is why you can never visit!”

           Dib sighs and rubs his forehead. “Alright, forget it. He’s clearly in good hands. We’ll leave him to you.”

           “Thank you,” Bianca nods, “trust me, he’ll be properly punished.”

           “I will not stand for this censorship!” Robbie cries as she drags him away.

           “Shut up, you little moron,” she snaps, “your music sucks anyway.”

           Zim, Tak, Dib, and Gaz watch them walk away before sighing.

           “Well, that takes care of that, I guess,” Dib says.

           “Good,” Gaz nods, “cause it’s almost two.”

           “We better get back to the stage,” Zim orders.

           They hurry through the park and arrive back to the stage. They join Devi and Tenna, who are standing near the back of the crowd, just before the current band finishes up. Then Hellz Rebels take the stage.

           Pepito looks into the crowd as he sets down his amp and sees his friends waving excitedly. He grins and looks to his band.

           “Ready?” he asks.

           They all smile and nod.

           “Then on your cue, Maddie,” he says, lifting his guitar.

           She takes a deep breath and grips her mic.

           “Are you guys ready to rock!?”

           Later that night, in Cammie’s house, Squee and Johnny are lounging on the couch as the recording of the Hellz Rebels’ performance plays through Squee’s cellphone.

           “You know, I hate to say it,” Nny says, “but they’re actually not bad.”

           Squee smiles. “Yeah. They sound awesome. I wish I could’ve seen them live.”

           “But you didn’t,” a voice points out nastily, wiping away Squee’s smile. His eyes narrow with annoyance at the stress toy sitting on the coffee table.

           “You miss your friends, huh?” Squishy Pete says, “do you think they miss you? Like actually miss you? Do you think they want you back? Or is this break a relief for them? Probably the latter, right? I mean that’s why you left in the first place. For a break.”

           Pete’s wide, fanged smile starts to widen as Squee rubs his tired eyes. But before the toy can say anything more, a hand suddenly swipes him from the table.

           “Found him!” Eff announces, waving him in the air.

           “He sure disappears quickly,” Sickness remarks as the other Night Terrors join him.

           “Yeah, we can’t turn our backs for a second,” D-boy adds.

           “He’s a tenacious little parasite,” Eff agrees as he tightly squeezes the toy.

           “Let me play with him,” Reverend Meat begs.

           “No, you always pop him too quickly,” Eff replies, “that’s no fun.”

           “Yeah, we gotta make him suffer a bit,” D-boy adds.

           “Guys!” Squee snaps, “can you take this somewhere else? I’m trying to listen to something.”

           “Sorry, Little Boss,” the Night Terrors sing.

           “Let’s play hacky sack with him outside,” Sickness suggests.

           “Yeah!” the others cheer and race out the door.

           Johnny watches them leave before looking at the Squee. He’s quietly rubbing his closed eyes.

           “You okay?” Nny asks.

           “Yeah,” Squee replies, opening his eyes. “Just tired.”

           Nny nods understandably. “So, Granny’s going to L.A tomorrow to do some shopping. You wanna go?”

           Squee looks at his phone as he listens to the Hellz Rebels sing. He’s not sure he wants to go anywhere right now. But it’s also been almost two weeks.

           “Sure,” he replies, “I guess I should try going out in public again. It has been a while.”

           Nny scoffs, “the public is overrated. But shopping can be fun.”

           Squee smiles at him. “Yeah.”

           Nny smiles back and they settle back down as they continue to listen to the music.

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction #iz jthm crossover #myocs #myart

[karliesbuzzcut]

When art really speaks to you, pt. 2: probably just a coincidence but idk

Disclaimer: all these theories are rabbit holes on their own, so trying to explain them in a couple of paragraphs is, automatically, doing them a disservice. Especially since I’m only going to be primarily addressing the part of the theory that focuses on the artist communicating with their public through their work.

Since I’ve already dedicated paragraphs to the introduction in part 1, let’s just jump into it.

Leonardo Da Vinci’s fuckton of theories.

Let’s start with the daddy of all conspiracies. After all, not many can gloat about their reachings becoming a movie starring Tom Hanks.

The thing with Da Vinci’s conspiracies is that there are so many of them, and they range from “maybe this is also a painting made by Da Vinci but he wasn’t credited because of reasons” to ALIENS. Which, I think, shows how different our interpretations of art can be, and how much it depends on an already established worldview.

But the most interesting part isn’t the conclusions, but how people look for clues. For example, just like people say Taylor Swift is obsessed with numbers or oranges (depending who you ask, I guess), Da Vinci was supposedly a big fan of reflections. So, if you want to decode his paintings you must mirror them... and then move then a little bit... there you go, you’ve just found yourself an alien...! Or a daemon...! Or someone wearing a funny hat! And that’s totally what he wanted us to find, right? Why else would he had shown any sort of interest in reflections if he didn’t want us to reflect everything!!

Shakespeare is an illusion... kinda, but yeah.

Personally, I think Kaylors would love to dig into this one. Sure, it doesn’t have many lesbians playing political spies. But it does involve a lot of literature analysis. Just like Kaylors don’t think a heterosexual woman could’ve written Taylor’s songs; some people (referred as anti-Stratfordians, thank you very much) don’t think someone from a lower class could’ve written Shakespeare’s plays. 

Here’s the tea... the very cold tea: because Shakespeare was the son of a glover, anti-Stratfordians say he couldn’t have had the knowledge to write his plays. They, instead, come up with a list of “more suitable” writers that could’ve worked together. But they decided to keep their identities a secret because being a play writer, at that time, wasn’t respectable. Here, we will start noticing a trend with Conspiracy Theories: society, as a whole, can’t handle the truth, only a selected few. That’s where Francis Bacon comes in.

Francis Bacon was a very smart dude. He, also, worked for the state - giving him the credentials to be worthy of writing Shakespeare calibre plays. And also, also, he developed a method to conceal messages in the presentation of a text. To be able to do this, you would need to use two typefaces. Guess what has more than one typeface? Shakespeare’s plays.

I have to say - while I don’t believe either theory we have seen, they are somewhat understandable. We barely know anything about Shakespeare and Da Vinci beyond their work, so it’s normal that people are trying to figure out who they were; what did they believed in; where did they get all of their knowledge. We like theorising about the answers to these questions, knowing we’ll never get a confirmed truth. Not so the case with our next conspiracy...

Lewis Carroll was Jack the Ripper - someone had to be, right?

Now, allow me to fangirl all over this one. It combines my interests for conspiracy theories, true crime and pop-culture.

I’m assuming everyone here knows about Jack the Ripper: a serial killer who murdered at least 5 people (mainly prostitutes) in London, between the years 1888 and 1891. Well, someone looked at this and thought “you know what this murder-mystery is missing? Famous people”. Well, this theory says that the author of Alice in Wonderland did it He was the only celebrity living nearby at the time of the killings, so... 🤷‍♀️

This becomes a case of “I have already made up my mind about this issue, so I’m going to go ahead and search for proof that confirms it”. Authors and, now, internet sleuths went through his books, selected this random-ass excerpt from the nursery version of Alice and decided it was an anagram. And a crappy one at that. Supposedly, if you arrange the letters you get a detailed and gruesome confession. You, however, have to take away some letter and add others. Listen, I’m not an English major, but I’ve heard that’s cheating.

This theory also has that characteristic we mentioned: the “I don’t want to admit it out loud, so I’m going to come up with convoluted ways for my audience to figure it out” - which almost borders on psychotic behaviour. But at least it, somewhat, works with the serial killer narrative, you know? Not very much with Taylor, a woman who simply wants to chill with her girlfriend.

The moon landing was fake and directed by Stanley Kubrick.

I’m not going to dig into the moon landing conspiracy, this post is going to be long enough already. Just know that, when the USA government was planning to fake the whole thing, they had just watched ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ and they were all like “that’s so cool! That’s how we want our fake moon landing to look!” So they contacted its director, Kubrick.

According to the theory, Kubrick felt really guilty afterwards but he couldn’t say anything about it because he signed an NDA? it would be dangerous, I guess. So he did the same thing Taylor would do decades later: he “spelled it out” for us on his work, under the excuse of “I didn’t explicitly said it, did I? My most intelligent and attractive fans just happened to figure it out for themselves”. 

The movie ‘The Shinning’ has been analysed to shreds. Think ‘Look What You Made Me Do’ music video, but 2 hours and 26 minutes instead. There are many theories about its underlying theme, but we’re only focusing on the moon landing one. The biggest piece of evidence, according to believers, comes from that famous scene in the hallway. Basically, the kid, Danny, is on the floor playing and wearing an Apollo 11 sweater. He stands up = the rocket launches. He walks to Room N.237. Which is almost an anagram for MOON - but actually, a perfect anagram for MORON - I didn’t come up with that joke, I’m just sharing it. Anyway. In the book, the room number is 217 but Kubrick changed it to 237 because there are 237,000 miles between the Earth and the Moon... except that’s not exactly true, but this is their Kissgate, you see? 

“Paul is Dead” aka “the granddaddy of Kaylor is Real”

Now, this is THE conspiracy theory. Kaylors would love to have the amount of evidence this theory has. Give them 50 years, they’ll get there. 

Our story starts in 1966, Paul McCartney dies in a car accident. The British Government panics, “this will drive our teenagers into a massive suicide!” So they cover it up. They find this guy who looks like Paul and hire him to replace the original. 

You might’ve only heard about those stores where pop-stars get their beards. But there’s also a branch that focuses on celebrity look-a-likes.

The rest of The Beatles went along with it (because that’s how these artists seem to operate, they’re always the victims of their circumstances) but they did not like it. So - you guessed it - they used their music, artwork, photo-shoots, etc. to communicate the truth. Faux-Paul might’ve felt a bit awkward about it, but he’s a nice chap and let the other guys work through their grief. 

Kaylors might have agreed on blue being the colour of breaks up and yellow is for Karlie-Sunshine; but the Paul-truthers concluded white is the colour of heaven, jeans are for gravediggers and black for morticians... oh! And not wearing shoes means you’re dead. Taylor being near a door symbolises her leaving the closet; Paul being near an open trunk symbolises him being in a coffin. Is the letter K, for Karlie, surrounding Taylor? Well, there’s a 28IF in the plaques of a car, for Paul being 28 IF he hadn’t died. People hear a phantasmagorical “she” in ‘Call It What You Want’; just like people heard “I buried Paul” in ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’.

If you have never looked up this theory, I seriously recommend it. There are so many parallels with Kaylor. Here’s a 30 minute video, if you’re interested. It summarises the theory neatly while discussing the effects that these, seemingly innocent, conspiracies have on the way we absorb information.

Paul might be dead but 2pac is very much alive.

If I haven’t made it clear by now, I think it’s very deceptive to use a musician’s lyrics to back up your alternate version of events. As confessional as these verses can be, they’re still a form of art. Which, in terms of music lyrics, they need to follow certain parameters, as well as a desired sound. And, as many other forms of art, they might focus a bit more on transmitting a feeling, rather than an accurate portrayal of reality.

Why am I stopping to say all of this now? Well, because this specific theory relies a lot on Tupac’s lyrics.

A bit of context: In 1996, Tupac Shakur was shot 4 times while at a stoplight. He died from his injuries days later. While there are theories, to this day, no one knows who killed him. Unless you believe one of those theories, which claims no one did.

The believers of this theory cite Tupac’s lyrics to argue that he was explicitly telling his fans that he was going to fake his own death. Here are two examples:

I’ve been shot and murdered, can’t tell you how it happened word for word but best believe that n*****’ gonna get what they deserve. - Richie Rich’s N***** Done Change

I heard rumours that I died murdered in cold blood, traumatised pictures of me in my final states — you know mama cried. But that was fiction, some coward got the story twisted - Aint’ Hard 2 Find

Just like anti-Kaylors don’t necessarily oppose the idea of Taylor being gay; I bet the “antis” of this theory aren’t happy Tupac died and weren’t against his existence on the first place. It’s more of an argument about confusing your feelings with facts, just because they can be more comforting or exciting.

“Avril Lavigne is dead”... or “every artist you think is alive is, actually, dead and, the ones you think are dead, aren’t” I guess.

After everything we have seen, this one isn’t that interesting. The real Avril died in 2003, right after her first album. Her record label bought a new one. Proof? She says ‘dead’ in ‘My Happy Ending’, blah, blah. A poor man’s “Paul is Dead”.

I added it, mainly for the lulz, after the last entry, I needed them. But also because it all started with a blog. What’s hilarious is that the guy who created it admitted he only did it to show how gullible people are but, at that point, he had already convinced people about. The conspirators didn’t need him anymore. So they discarded him but not the Theory... which just reminds me a little too much of how TCG, HBH, Jennyboom &co. have been excommunicated from the Church of Kaylor.

Beyonce and Jay Z are members of the sexy sexy Illuminati.

I did not save the best for last. But maybe I’m just biased because the Illuminati theory bores me to death. However, if you allow me a bit of social criticism... remember how the Shakespeare Conspiracy started because a bunch of classicist people didn’t believe a lower class citizen could write such good plays? I think this one has a bit of that. I’d bet my life that this one started when a bunch of white dudes got super uncomfortable by black people being so talented and earning their successful.

What this Conspiracy shows, too, is the amplifying effect the internet has had on the proliferation of such theories. Most of the conspiracies I’ve mentioned were huge... but how were you supposed to communicate your ideas and add to the old ones, before the internet? You could publish a book. Talk about it at parties. And, at some point, there were internet forums but, still, you can’t compare that to how widespread Social Media is nowadays. 

Today, we can watch someone ramble for 2 hours on YouTube about how Beyonce looks like a robot if you watch Single Ladies in reverse; read someone’s dissertation of ‘Apeshit’; or spend all night looking at those pictures where someone has drawn a red circle around anything that resembles a triangle. 

It might look like a lot of evidence but that’s only because there are a lot of people very attached to this theory. Wanting - for whatever reason - for it to be true (perhaps because it would confirm that their fears about the world were well founded). And all those dozens or hundredths of people were working together to form as many patterns as possible.

Unfortunately we are going to keep talking about the Illuminati in Part 3 but also about Taylor, so that should be nice. Because - to the surprise of absolutely no one - there’s a bunch of people who also think they understand Taylor better than the rest. That they have figured out her secret codes and her ultimate message. Only, not all of those theories involve lesbian supermodels, so they aren’t as popular on Tumblr.

#Kaylor #conspiracy theory

[joehuntsmonsters]

Several weeks of my life in super short essays

I don’t typically enjoy using Tumblr as a journal anymore. I actually don’t know why I’m doing this. There’s no benefit beyond a regular journal and I’ll probably just read this and embarrass myself later.

I feel an incredible amount of guilt for being a complete wreck when many people in my life have significantly worse than I do with real troubles.

I’ve had a real hard time coping with the truth of reality lately. Some things shouldn’t matter because they are universal truths and realities. People we know we’ll die, and as animals we are not made to care, only to protect ourselves and our own. But we have now created a society for ourselves and everything is different. As much as it’s a joke, we do really stray further from “God” every day. In the beginning it was out of benefit for ourselves. Now it’s just out of habit.

I start a new job in two weeks. It comes with more opportunities to improve myself and expand my career. It comes with a large raise. It gets me away from a job I’ve said I’ve hated for 6 years. And yet as every day goes by I feel a little bit more like I’ve made the wrong choice for myself.

Therapy is a weird animal. Some sessions are good. Some feel less exciting and helpful. It’s hard to remind myself that it’s a process. It’s like running a track, not climbing a ladder. It’s also difficult to remind myself that I am paying for this time. It is for me. And I am not supposed to therap the therapist.

My mind only works in the slippery slope fallacy. In every instance. I recently turned 30. I have been having a total meltdown over this fact. 30 is way too close to 40. And 40 is WAY too close to 50. I wasn’t supposed to get old. I was always a kid. I should still be one. Realistically I was supposed to die at 27, but I wasn’t nearly successful enough to join that club, so I’m on the hunt for a new one.

A few years ago a friend of mine passed, and a few months later another one did. I wasn’t super close with either of them, but I loved them all the same. I wrote a song for one, but I’ve been working on lyrics for the other for a long time now. The guilt I feel for finishing one but not the other is enough to hinder me from being able to finish it.

In addition to that, I like to think of myself as a musician. In reality I’m just another asshole who picked up a string instrument at 14 and spent too much money and not enough time getting better. When I was in my 20s I met another musician who wasn’t as good as I was. It was good for my ego. Almost 10 years later I haven’t improved and he blows me away in everything he’s doing. I guess he just wanted it more. I don’t know. He’s one of those people that wasn’t supposed to be better than me. What a selfish, pretentious fuck I am for thinking that people work that way.

When things get bad sometimes I fall into some form of catatonia. It’s been happening more frequently lately. I think that normally people would believe this is a way of protecting yourself from stress. The truth is there is just so many things that I’m trying to process that I don’t have room to have a personality. Sometimes I just feel like a robot, and my storage ran out of room for an identity so they just took it out of me.

I’m aware of what one of my biggest problems is and how to fix it. I think it would be like Atlas dropping the world off of his back. But no matter how nihilist I pretend to be, I just can’t convince myself that I can do it. The worst part is, the longer I wait, the more my feet dig into the ground, and the harder it will be to drop that world.

I don’t count myself special or original here, but I am horrified for the state of the world right now. My politics generally lean left, but I think there are morons on both sides, and you just can’t convince anyone to bend just a little bit. The rest of the world is winning, but America will be damned if it doesn’t drag the rest of the world down with it. The people who hate America would love to see us burn, but the truth is that this country is not in a vacuum. If it goes down, it will bring a lot down with it. Even our enemies.

I wish I would have understood materialism before it overtook me. I have so many things that I don’t need and I cannot bring myself to get rid of. But I also feel that if 99% of it burned up in a fire, I wouldn’t worry about replacing it.

I am not good at anything. I have regressed at anything that I was once improving in.

Despite the excitement in the world right now, everything is so fucking boring. Sure people tried to overtake the Capitol building, but the world has always been full of people who hate the current state of politics. Look outside. The sun goes up and down every day. As a people we are destroying ourselves as we always have been. If you don’t want fast food, you can walk across the street to get fast food. And if they’re too busy it’s okay, you can go next door to get fast food. And you can pay for it all with the money that you make from your job. Where you train to do the same thing every day for years until something horrible happens to you and you die. Things keep happening but none of it is new.

My father is incredibly sick and not doing well. You’d think I wouldn’t care because I haven’t spoken to him in...well...years. But I’m just confused.

I have never been so unhappy with the way I look and I can’t figure out whose fault that is. But I can’t bring myself to care enough to actually do something about it. If there anything to do about it.

Nothing actually matters because there is no such thing as importance. The universe will expand until it contracts. There is no point to anything. There is just...this.

Yet somehow I still think about you. It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t want to turn back time. It’s just a habit that never broke.

[sealers100]

PART 2: A (brief) review of every Donald Sutherland movie (so far)

Wowee welcome back. Yes I’m still on this shit and I intend to finish it because this is probably the most fun I’ve had in quarantine apart from working night shift at a waffle house. (I wish I was kidding) I will admit this one might not be as long as the last post but I promised to deliver so here we go for part two.

Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors

I had way too much fun with this movie! The story was unique and entertaining with a creepy twist without being so scary I can’t sleep at night. It’s got not only Donald, but also Sir Christopher Lee AND Peter Cushing! Like you can’t get any more badass than that. The acting is pretty great and the music goes hard (there’s a whole segment about a musician and I’m nerding out). Donald is maybe 29 or 30 years old and its one of his earliest (his 4th) film credit and oh goodness his segment is just too much. This is definitely a must see for any Hammer Film fanatics or Sutherland fans, You’ll love it!

The Dirty Dozen

Talk about a throwback to my childhood. Again an old army movie I remember watching with my parents (however watching it again I probably shouldn’t have). The movie itself its great if your into things like Tora Tora Tora! and Kelly’s Heroes. Not a whole lot of Donald in it but what we do get it so worth it. For a “serious and professional” actor, he plays silly and weird soooooo well. I will admit this one isn't nearly as lighthearted as Donald’s scenes might make it seem. It’s an actual war movie with heavy emotions and lots of violence and is quite sad at the end (no spoilers don’t worry). It might not be one to make you cry but you can’t help feeling bad for his character. Personally I loved it but its a classic in my household so I’m a bit biased. 

Start The Revolution Without Me

I quite literally choked on my coffee watching this one. Gene Wilder and Donald made a surprisingly hilarious pair and it worked so well!!! I already can’t get enough of Gene so of course this one is probably one of my all time favorite movies across the board. Basically its a switched at birth situation and takes place during the french revolution. I won’t give away too much but if you liked anything by Mel Brooks you’ll love this one. I really can’t say much without spoiling the funny bits but if you’re having a bad day, do what I did and curl up in your onesie with a bag of popcorn and let the laughter ensue.

Act of the Heart

(tw: self harm/suicide mention) Let me start out by telling you how hard it was fro me to find this damn movie and how ecstatic I was when I finally got to sit down and watch it. For anyone who doesn’t know me, my background is in vocal performance and I did a lot of work with the episcopal church in college as a soloist for churches, weddings, events and stuff so getting to see Donald as a CONCERT DIRECTOR just made my little heart explode. I was constantly geeking out at the musical parts and even got a bit of concert anxiety for the main character, Martha Hayes. She falls in love with him but of course he’s a priest (again) but this time he actually leaves the ministry for her. The movie itself is good (and the music gets my seal of approval as well) but there’s a quite a bit of triggering stuff so this one might be a bit difficult to watch for some. I will say some of these movies are quite hard to find and I had to scour the interwebs for them so if anyone wants a watch for anything on either of these lists, don’t be afraid to message me.

Little Murders

Okay so this one will be quite short because Donald is in it for a whole 10 minutes but he should have gotten a fucking oscar for it because I have never been so amazed and shocked by one of his roles as I was with this one. The movie is great if you’re into Elliot Gould (and his hair omg). But jesus Donald stole the ENTIRE MOVIE for that one brief scene. You can find clips of it on youtube just go watch it. Hell I’ll probably post it on my blog later. It’s honestly the best thing ever, and I want it played at my wedding. 

Steelyard Blues

What is it with directors and casting Jane Fonda as a prostitute? I’ll never know but Donald probably had a hand in that decision because he’s the executive producer. The movie is not great by any means but its definitely not boring. Again something about him being silly and dumb he just does so well and its so jarring in this one how silly he can get. I quite enjoyed it actually and its a real change of pace for him because while I like his character, I don’t have a whole lot of sympathy for him like I did for character’s like Casanova. I mean really he doesn’t hold back in portraying Jesse Veldini as an absolute fucking moron but I think we’re supposed to laugh at his misfortunes because they genuinely are funny (I think I just like watching him suffer) And it’s really entertaining. Again, I think Donald could have easily had a career as comedic actor but it’s nice to see how easily he can switch moods.

S*P*Y*S*

Another Donald and Elliot movie and this one is pretty hilarious too. (I’m loving these funny feel good movies) The two of them are CIA spies who aren’t stupid but definitely got the short stick in their agreement with the Russians. The plot makes sense but the way it’s gone about doesn’t really click. The Dynamic between him and Elliot is always fantastic and fun to watch so it makes up for the lack of sense this movie makes. Sorry this one couldn’t be longer but there would be much to say without writing a synopsis and I’m too tired to do that for any of these.

Day of the Locust

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT! I mean jesus christ this movie was a horror show. The film itself is fine, its a great movie, but oH mY GoD!!!! Let me start by saying I didn’t watch the final scene with him in this movie because its fucking brutal and I just knew it wasn’t gonna be the kind of thing I’d needed to see. (Or anyone) Yeah I’d issue a few trigger warnings for this movie. OKAY so Donald’s character is named Homer Simpson (I’m not kidding) and my god I thought I had low self esteem, he’s literally the saddest most miserable and lonely character I think I’ve ever seen him play and he gets used by Faye Greener (Karen Black) who can go sit on a cactus for all I care, I hate that she’s the main character and the way she treats Donald is HORRIBLE AND I HATE IT. God this movie messed me up for a straight week afterward and I’m still not over it. He cries a lot in this one and just stooooooop please I can’t take it I know his character isn't accurate to the book its based on but it just makes me feel bad for him seeing Donald’s character slowly being destroyed by the toxic people around him icanttakeitanymoremovingon.

The Eagle Has Landed

I don’t know the first thing about the animosity between the Irish and the English all I know is that they don’t get along sometimes and Donald’s character this time is I think a NAzi SymPathizer?? I could be wrong but he does help them try to kidnap Winston Churchill (weird). There’s a strangely deep romance between him an a 19 year old girl (uh?) but it doesn’t really come to fruition. Overall it’s a hell of a spy movie and with fantastic performances from Robert Duvall (no I wasn’t able to recognize him) and Michael Caine. It’s a fun movie and Donald’s accent is of course, awful (just the way I like it) and steals the show yet again. 

The Disappearance 

Interesting fact, Celandine (the main character’s wife) is actually played by Donald’s real life wife, Francine Racette. So it makes for quite an interesting dynamic between the two characters that feels very realistic. This is a hitman movie that takes place in I think Montreal (hard to imagine a lot of Canadian hitmen) And has a surreal feeling about it through the whole movie. Again this was a difficult one to find at first and there is actually two version. One being 80 minutes and the other being 100min. I’m not sure why it was split like this but I’ve seen both versions and they aren’t missing anything they’re just structured differently. It does feel a bit weird watching love scenes knowing that she is is actual wife but it does feel very realistic. Overall the movie is pretty good if you want to see lots of him and his wife. Don’t worry I’m sure their relationship is a lot better than what’s portrayed in the film! 

National Lampoon’s Animal House

If you don’t know the story of Donald and this film, here it is. He was originally offered 2% of the films earnings to be in it. Thinking it would be a flop, he refused and asked for his usual flat rate of 45,000. The film was a his and his 2% could have easily been upward of 1.2 million, and this was back in 1978. He later quoted this as one of his biggest regrets of his career. Overall his scenes are quite short but oh so funny. (This list is either very serious or very funny) I like to imagine he put a lot of himself into this role. I definitely had some professors like him in college.

Threshold

Come to think of it, I watched this one so long ago I think I forgot to put it on the last list I did. I was really surprised by how genuine this movie felt. Like everyone really put a lot into this movie but it didn’t get nearly the recognition it deserved. Its a medical drama so that probably why, but it’s got an adorably young Jeff Goldblum and I can’t help but love him and Donald in every scene they’re in together. They play off each other pretty well most of the time and I didn’t really see anything wrong with this film other than it might have been on the lower end of filming budgets but it wasn’t a bad movie. It deserved better.

Ordeal by Innocence

I wish I could say the same for this movie. On it’s own its an alright film. On it’s own the soundtrack is fine too. But when the put the two together It was jarring as hell. The acting and story were okay and could have been fine alone but the soundtrack really broke any chance this film had of being taken seriously. I would have loved to seen it just on it’s own. Donald’s character is for once a genuine kind of ass that I really don’t like but it’s Agatha Christie, all her characters are assholes. This film really had potential but it shot itself point blank in the foot with the music.

A Time to Kill

Jumping forward to the 90′s, this movie is a classic based on a John Grisham novel and wow did I get invested! Donald isn’t in the film a whole lot but he does feel like an integral part of the plot and I really enjoyed him and Matthew Mcconaughey on screen together. Along with Samuel L. Jackson and Sandra Bullock. This movie is just fantastic and I normally don't like court dramas. Now what’s also interesting that not only is Donald in this one but so is Keifer. Sadly these two don’t share any scenes together and I don’t think they really got to work on set together except maybe once. Also Keifer’s character is a horrible racist. If anyone gets in your face about confederate flags being “heritage, not hate” show them this movie, Kiefer will take care of that one..

Space Cowboys

And last but not least, possibly my favorite one on this list. Everyone in this movie has the best film dynamic!! It’s funny, it’s endearing, and even kinda sad at times. The whole film feels genuine between all the lead characters, especially with them al being easily over the age of 65. As for Donald, He’s a smooth talking, dirty old man who hits on anything that moves but I’m sorry it just cracks me up. I don’t think this one should be taken too seriously but I just can’t help but fall in love with this movie. Cowboys, Space, Clint Eastwood and Tommy Lee Jones mean-mugging while Donald laughs and chases after women just makes my day. 

Okay this one might have been a good bit longer than the last one so the reviews had to be a bit shorter this time. I would do some research for a lot fo the more serious film on these two lists just because I don’t have the time to issue trigger warnings for every film. I may put out a part three, at least I’m going to try to but I’m working 12 hour days lately so I don’t have as much time to watch stuff as I used to but I’m sure some of your guys do. If you’re having trouble finding a film don’t be afraid to let me know and I’ll do my best to hook you up with some *quality* content. I know I’m having a hell of a hard time finding his older credits and the movie Blood Relatives (at least a version in english) Let me know what you guys think, if you agree or disagree with my opinions. Have fun watching!

#Donald Sutherland #still not tagging every movie #I may end up with a dedicated side blog one day who knows #movies #film