#acton speaks

[mrm-pachypoda]

K and Evan, based on this post

@ralofofriverwoods @say-hi-intrepid-heroes thought y’all’d be interested i dunno

(Hoping that the image quality doesn’t get butchered by tumblr)

[mrm-pachypoda]

Doodles from episode 5! Can’t believe I haven’t done something like this sooner tbh, I’m brimming with ideas!

[kj-munch]

headshots for today since i gotta run to work in a minute… theyre like younger highschoolers here

[nostalgiaclown]

Lost Boy

Robert Laidir - He/They - 28 - Lords Of Fortune - Slayer Lost - Immature - Disruptive - Avoidant - Emotional - Joker

t/w: Abuse, Panic Attacks, Lack of Self Worth, Daddy Issues (I'm so sorry Rob)

×××

“ROBERT!! NOW!!”

The loud booming voice of your farther rings out across the field, breaking through the ringing in your ears, sweat covers your body, your hair sticks uncomfortably to your face, armour you quite fancied yourself in this morning now feels like a dead weight constricting you, weighing you down, adding to the pressure you’re already feeling after you hear the call of your name, and command to act.

Action.

“ROBERT! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR BOY??!”

Take Acton.

The ground beneath your feet trembles, another deafening roar sounds, that shakes you to the core.

“NOW!!”

Now.

Move.

MOVE.

The weight of your greatsword is too much for you to bare, your hands ache as you grip the hilt tighter, and you are NOT ready for this.

“USELESS FUCKING CHILD!! DIMITRIOS!”

“SIR!”

You stand, frozen, starring into the eyes of the wyvern as it charges towards you. Then, a sickening crunch, as Dimitris’s axe swings down against the wyvern’s skull, blood sprays, and the wyverns head lands with a great thump inches in front of you.

You stand there, chest still heaving, still looking into the now lifeless eyes of the wyvern, you manage a stolen glance to Dimitris, only to see him throw you a sneer as he pulls his axe from the beast.

Fuck.

Fuck…shit- fuck, fuck fuck-

“ROBERT! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

Your heart clenches as your farther painfully grips your arm, pushing you back forcefully, you bite the inside of your mouth so hard you taste fresh blood, you cannot show how much his thumb digging into the gash on your arm hurts, or you know the pain you’ll endure later will be worse than this.

“LOOK AT ME WHEN I AM SPEAKING TO YOU BOY THAT IS AN ORDER.”

You close your eyes, steel your resolve, or try to. You can feel your grip loosen, and your hands start to shake from the fear and adrenaline running through you. You turn to face the man, no- monster, then open your eyes.

Shit.

He’s fucking furious.

You watch the older man as he closes his eyes, exhaling slowly, before opening them again and speaking with a slow, forcibly calm tone.

“I’ll ask again. What was that, Robert?” His thumb again digs into the gash on your arm. You manage to keep your face stoic, but your jaw clenches, and you lose your grip on your weapon. You hear Dimitris scoff off to the side somewhere. Arsehole.

You need to answer, but what do you say? Nothing you say will matter.

“Captain- I- I’m- shit- I froze, ok? You- you didn’t tell me-“

“Enough. Don’t stutter, boy. Are you trying to piss me off? Huh? Making me look a fool in front of the other officers? Do you get a kick out of playing the useless fool?”

If it fucks with you mate, yes. Cunt didn’t tell me we were going to fight a massive fuck off wyvern today.

“No Sir.”

That earns you a punch to the face. Your vision blanks for a second, but you manage to stay on your feet. Just about.

“THEN STOP FUCKING ACTING LIKE ONE! Worthless idiot. We’ll have words later.”

You hear him walk away, your vision darkens again, and you let out a bitter laugh. Hopefully, this time, you don’t wake up. No words from him are worth shit. You’ll never hear the words you need from him. You’ve accepted that much.

You promptly pass out, the last thing you can make out is your farther spewing more degrading words.

You bolt upright, drenched in sweat. That fucking nightmare again…

“Ugh…fuck’s sake man…” You untangle yourself from your wet blankets, kicking them away. The sound of the sea hitting the hold grounds you. it's fine. He’s not here. You’re away from all that now. Free.

“Hey Rob, shut it will ya? Some of us are trying to sleep yeah, quit yer whimpering and shit, we don’t wanna hear all that-“

“Yeah yeah- sorry, mate.” You get yourself up and pad your way over to the stairs. You need some air.

“An don’t fuckin come back down those stairs stomping like a drunk wyvern- we gotta be up early member- that Rivaini noble tosser wants that artefact, so we need you in top shape, yahear?”

“Yeah yeah I hear ya, still don’t like the guy. I’ll be quiet as a nug… quieter than your snoring anyway.” You bark out a laugh as you dodge the boot that was thrown at you and quickly ascend the stairs.

The night air is cold, the sea breeze whips around you, and the ocean spray kisses your skin. You breathe in. Out.

Looking out across the dark expanse of the sea, your grip on the mast tightens. You are free now. But, what do you do with that freedom? Seek out adventure, of course. Gold and Glory and all that too, you suppose.

Anything to feel something.

Something more.

Something to be prideful in.

[mrm-pachypoda]

Nijntje wouldn’t stand a chance

1. Yes they have to fight, 2. Tell me who’s fighting who in the tags! (I’ll add the most ridiculous combos in a reblog)

[anewnewcrest]

From Anne Sawyer's Prayer Journal

Watcher help me... I've been having sinful thoughts! About a young man from church! His name is Acton Miller and he's the oldest son of another family from church, and he is... he is so amazing! He's 22 to my 18, which is just the kind of age difference a young couple should have, and he has a job, he's a policeman... and he is just the best kind of man! He loves his family, he works so hard (he even has a second job stocking shelves in a grocery store to help his family, and I think that speaks very well of him, that he's not too proud for any job to support his family), he loves children, and he has such a good heart and such a love for the Watcher! He pays for his sister Acacia's piano lessons, and he takes her to my father's house for her lessons, and picks her up, and sometimes he stays for a little bit to listen!

I know I should confess my sinful thoughts to my father and then let him handle the matter, but... I know what my father would do. He would warn Acton away from me, because he thinks the Millers are beneath us - whatever that means - and that Acton is not good enough for him! He says they're trouble, especially after Acton's brother Ashton got a girl from another family at church pregnant! But Acton is not like Ashton - really, he dislikes his brother a lot - and... talking to him when he picks up Acacia is the best part of my week, especially when we have to re-schedule and I can talk to him on the phone for a few minutes, or when we see each other on Sundays at church.

I know I can't be forward and tell him I'm interested, because girls don't do that, but I'm praying and praying and praying that the Watcher will do a work in his heart and make him notice me!

[slashingdisneypasta]

Poly!Dale Acton and Wayne Jackson x Reader || Drabble

Plot: A random drunk guy decides to bait equally drunk Dale and Wayne, and its everything you and Norman can do to keep those two from killing this man.

Warnings: Violence & misogynistic shit talking. I wrote this in the middle of the night during a burst of inspiration... from... the... weasley twins??.. so yeah. It might not be the best 😂😅XD SEVERELY unedited.

Tagging: @slxsherwriter

This guy wants to get his ass kicked so damn bad. It was all Norman could do to keep Dale in his seat and not leap over the booth and lunge at him, and it was all you could do to stay in front of Wayne (directly between him and this jerk, since he managed to slip out of your booth before you could stop him)- but this guy would not stop talking!

It started with just a few odd looks here and there from the bar. Dale noticed it and put a bad taste in his mouth, but you managed to calm him down again with a kiss on the cheek- you all just got off a long job! Can you all just have fun tonight?? Please.

Then he started to talk shit. Saying some very unflattering things about you, bar side picking at the guys' egos (You couldnt do shit if I came over there and started kicking your lame little asses, could you? How much are you paying for the slut? Etc etc), and you couldn't stop Wayne from talking back, and then well naturally it just got NASTY.

"-hey, old man, you lookin' kinda pent-up there now. Nothing else to say?? 'S not my fault if ya don't like the truth. How about you come over here and prove me wrong, huh?? Y'think your old back could take it?"

Wayne's voice is little more then a growl, and you're shocked; eyes wide, head snapping up to look at him. Oh, shit- "Come here, you little shit, I'll show you a broken back- "

"Well come on, then!" The guy laughs, and when you turn your head see the loser- you regret it immediately. He zeroes in on you. An obnoxious, simpering grin slips across his annoying mug. "... or, is your bitch the boss around here?"

Norman has to actually push Dale back down into his seat, then.

You flash the guy a glare, but ignore him, turning to look up pleading at Wayne; Try to talk over the guy and get through to him. "-hey, don't listen to him, he's drunk. You're drunk. He's just trying to bait you. Calm down, take a deep breath- "

"... just trynna bait me? heh... doin a real good job of it."

"I know, but- "

"Y/N." Normans voice. You turn your head, a hint of annoyance in your gaze. What?? He nods meaningfully towards Wayne's waistband, a note of worry in his face, and your eyes go insanely wide. Oh, shoot- right-

By the time you've had the time to look down and try to grab the gun before he can, Wayne's already got in hand. Luckily you're able to snatch it away before he can do anything; flashing him a ferociously stern glare. "No." You're not in any mood to spend the night in jail. And neither is Norman, who you hear give a half-relieved sigh.

"Aw, she is the boss!" The guy continues again, patronising and dumb-drunk. Poor, dumb, asshole. He doesn't know what poor decisions he's making fucking with these two. He's only lucky Norman's not easily picked on, otherwise there's nothing you could've on your own to save him. Or them. Or any innocent bystanders. "Cute. Omega men, right babe?"

He is SO. LUCKY.

Even you wanna kick his ass.

"Don't call her babe." Dale seethes, the first thing he's said during this entire encounter. Dale's not a talker- opposite to Wayne. Dale's a beater; hence the iron-grip Norman has on him.

The guy sneers at Dale. "Why not? She is." His eyes find you again, or your back, because you're not looking at him. You're tracking Wayne, hoping he doesn't try something crazy. "Huh, babe? Babes? Sweet tits?"

You give a wince, you cant help it; grossed out and uncomfortable, it does not fly over Dale's head. He tries to jump up but Norman's grip forces him hard back down in his seat. "Stay the fuck down. We don't want trouble."

"Speak for yourself, I wanna kill this mother- "

" -Dale, come on," You take your attention off of Wayne for a second; turning your pleading gaze onto Dale. "Please."

... He looks at you like he cant believe what you're asking of him, like its so unfair he cant beat the shit out of this guy, but thank god- he listens. He grips the table so hard his knuckles go white and he's scowling so hard his blue eyes are almost black, but he listens. Halfway through relief, your ears prick up at that fucking guy, talking again. Still. When will he shut. up!?? "Oh, you guys are so whipped. I mean, she's cute don't get me wrong. And pussy's good- but not that good. Show her who's fucken boss already. ... Show me."

... You don't remember when you let go of Wayne. But you know you did. Because the next thing you know you're whipping around, discarding the gun, marching up to this drunk asshole and punching him directly in the jaw.

Then Wayne's fingers dig into the guy's hair and he's on the ground. Wayne's boot on his throat. The sound of Norman cursing behind you, and he must let go of Dale because he's going to have really painfully bruised, split knuckles tomorrow. Then all 3 of you sitting handcuffed in the back of police car side-by-side.

[toondisneyartz]

20 Years of Comfort Characters

Today is my 20th birthday, and I decided to draw every comfort character I've had since I was very young. You can notice there is a diverse amount of characters in this photo XD, some of them were really special to me growing up, but they all have made an impact on me. I also did NOT include every comfort character I've had in my entire life, as I was unable to include some characters I really wanted to include.   

Mickey Mouse is owned by Walt Disney Studios (2005?-2008) Martha Speaks is owned by Susan Meddaugh and PBS Kids (2011-2012) Ponyo is owned by Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli (2011-2012) Peanut Big Top is owned by Amandine Consorti and MGA Entertainment (2011-2014) Dracularura is owned by Garrett Sander and Mattel (2012-2015) Liberty Moshling is owned by Michael Acton Smith and Mind Candy Entertainment (2013-2015) Unikitty is owned by Phil Lord, Christopher Miller, and Warner Brothers Entertainment (2014-2015) Riley Andersen is owned by Pete Docter and Pixar Animation Studios (2015-2016) Bonnie is owned by Scott Cawthon (2015-2016) Violet Parr is owned by Brad Bird and Pixar Animation Studios (2017-2019) Loki is owned by Stan Lee and Marvel (2019-2021) Gumball is owned by Ben Bocquelet and Cartoon Network Europe (2019-2020) Marceline is owned by Pendleton Ward and Cartoon Network Studios (2019-2020) Tom Lucitor is owned by Daron Nefcy and Disney TVA (2021) Commander Peepers is owned by Craig McCracken and Disney TVA (2021-present) Cala Maria and Hilda Berg are owned by Chad and Jared Moldenhauer and Studio MDHR (2022-2023) Mordecai is owned by JG Quintel and Cartoon Network Studios (2022-present) Spinel is owned by Rebecca Sugar and Cartoon Network Studios (2023-) Alphys is owned by Toby Fox (2023-)

[mrm-pachypoda]

Could never forget:

The favorite character is the last one listed, because they appear in exactly one scene. And I had to read through the entire thing just to find that out.

looking for fics about your favorite character on ao3 be like:

dont care

dont care

dont care

what the actual fuck

dont care

ooh that sounds- what the fuck

unfinished

don't care

the best fic ive ever read in my life. this absolutely ruined me and ill never be the same ever again

dont care

[spencerberkeley]

DON'T WORRY, BE HAPPY:

Look, you know what happens if you don't spice up the dash. People die. Mistral's doesn't get enough love so...let's do this to it I guess idk. Features Spencer, Cassie, Nora, a bunch of NPCs and a vaguely referenced dude. Date: Evening of 21/8/24. Warnings: Kate up to her usual ish. 

“I hate French food so fucking much. Why are you doing this to me?”

“Laurent recommended the place, and I said I’d—”

The initial disgust present on Cassandra’s face dissipated in an instant, instead replaced by amusement, and all he could do was grimace in annoyance that he had somehow ended up calling her his best friend. There was no point finishing what he was about to say. Slowly, she lifted her hand from the thankfully (in her humble opinion) foodless table, giving him a dramatic thumbs-up.

“Don’t start this shit again.”

“Ooh friend!” The blonde cooed loudly.

Too late.

“French friend!”

This time it was Nora who chimed in, and he shot her a look that very much said ‘traitor.’

The reference earned a few sniggers from the others gathered around the table—Jessica and Llewellyn, in particular—and worse, drew the attention of several onlookers. Spencer didn’t care enough to offer them any attempt at an apology for bringing literal farm animals to dinner, but tried to hush the pair of idiot blondes for his own sake.

They were a party of eight and he regretted almost every choice intensely. Cassandra and his former girlfriend, Jessica Mirzoyan, sat opposite, smirking like school girls at his expense. His two sisters flanked her new partner, his cousin, Llewellyn, to his left. Camilla’s husband, Philip, and his childhood friend, Jack, were engaged in their own conversation, entirely separate from the mess at the table, to his right. They were down two, though. Jasper and his new girlfriend—or old, if they were going to get technical about it, he supposed—were also supposed to be in attendance, but given her apparent reticence sparking concern during their vacation earlier in the month, Spencer suspected it was for the best that they weren’t being subject to whatever the fuck this was.

“You know when you lecture me about being too busy with work to socialise with you?” Spencer began, pointing a finger at Cassandra accusatorily. “Maybe it’s because you’re shit.”

“I’m actually a blessing, but okay.”

“A blessing,” Nora repeated for emphasis, taking a very ladylike sip of her champagne. “Speaking of blessings, though, where is Alexis? You better not have left her at home with the kids so you can get drunk on a school night…”

“Nah, some shit came up with Gaius. Mum is babysitting.”

“Mine, too,” Camilla added.

“She’s watching all of them?! You realise dad has the larger inheritance, right? This better not be some morbid tactic to send the woman to an early grave…”

The conversation was light-hearted, and he appreciated it given the weight his day had landed squarely on his shoulders. A meeting with Elizabeth Acton had left him reeling so spectacularly, Spencer had almost cancelled last minute so he could go home and try to figure out what the fuck he was going to do. As much as he pretended the people surrounding him were nothing more than irritants, however, the reality was that in that moment, he was more grateful for the distraction than they could begin to understand. Particularly when he was no longer sure that this could be as regular an occurrence as he’d like going forward.

Eventually, the food was delivered by a very proud looking waiter. Most displeased was he, upon returning to check on their progress, to see Cassie pushing hers around the plate like a petulant toddler who would’ve been better suited to chicken nuggets.

It was the first time everyone had been relatively quiet, though; a contrast to the otherwise bustling restaurant around them.

Until the ambience was disturbed by a shrill shriek coming from outside.

Spencer checked his Rolex. 19:39.

In typical British fashion, everyone’s eyebrows pulled into a frown, though none commented aloud. It was more an annoyance—how dare somebody mildly inconvenience their evening with such unbecoming behaviour—as opposed to concern for what may have caused the outburst. The only one seated at their table that seemed to be worried about what might be happening outside of their little bubble was Nora, typically enough, and she attempted to steal a glance through the window they were seated beside.

“It’s South Ken, Nora. Somebody was probably spotted wearing last season’s Chanel,” Jack brushed it off, though not without attempting to get a look, himself.

Spencer almost huffed out a laugh at that, but it died in his throat before it ever reached the others.

Suddenly, something just…didn’t feel right.

A few people around them had got up from their tables with similar intent to be nosy; perhaps, when they noticed the normal evening crowds making their way down the street begin to disperse in what was almost certainly not a reaction to somebody’s poor fashion choices.

It wasn’t his first time being caught up in a situation like this, but given how he reacted, one could’ve been fooled into thinking so.

It couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds between the first scream and the sound of gunshots ripping through the comfortable normality of Kensington and Chelsea. The onslaught was so loud it couldn’t have been anywhere else but right outside, and as much was confirmed as the sounds of nearby windows shattering intermittently pierced the panicked screams of the diners.

Champagne and fois gras was sent flying as people sought cover beneath their tables. Threw them aside in an attempt to get away from the room and the stray bullets finding the interior, entirely. Except it didn’t much seem like they were strays. It seemed like someone was aiming them directly at the fucking restaurant.

Pick a table by the window, Laurent had said… It’ll be fun, he’d said…

Spencer reflexively grabbed for Nora, attempting to drag her beneath the table to take cover, but she was attempting her own rescue on Cassie, and she was out of his grip before he ever truly had it. Philip was trying to pull his wife to safety, but the continuous shots in their direction made it hard to tell where was safe, and where was directly in the fucking firing line.

What were they supposed to do? Where were they supposed to go?

Glancing around for something they could all duck behind, every single sense heightened by the immediate shot of adrenaline, he took note that a woman a table over had clearly been struck. Though he could see her moving, the blood pooling around her seemed so swift in its escape, he probably would’ve wondered if her demise was an inevitability had he not been so focused on trying to help the people he loved avoid a similar fate.

Everything was a blur, eerily reminiscent of another time he’d been showered in glass at the hands of murderers.

Why here? Why now?

A Frenchman lying limp on the blood-stained pavement outside answered both of those questions, but nobody present beneath the table could’ve known that.

It felt like an eternity of ragged breathing and thumping hearts until it finally stopped.

The screaming didn’t, though. Nor did the wails of pain. Grief, in some cases, he didn’t doubt.

“What the fuck—” Jessica, always the calm and collected one, was utterly betrayed by the wavering in her voice. Spencer was surprised she could string a sentence together at all.

“What’s happening? Is everyone all right?” Camilla, then.

Cassie was practically catatonic, and he realised quickly, this was not her first encounter with a firing squad. It seemed she was even less equipped to deal with it than he felt. Maybe in some cases, experience wasn’t always such a good teacher…

“I think I’m bleeding,” Nora said shakily.

Spencer’s head shot up immediately in spite of the fact everyone else was too scared—rightfully so—to stray from their hiding spots. What was to say whoever had done this wasn’t just fucking reloading? What if this wasn’t really over as quickly as they thought it was?

“What do you mean? Where?”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“It’s just—” His sister’s attempt at an explanation was cut off as she gasped out in pain, Llewellyn attempting to place pressure on the wound. “It’s just my arm. I think it hit my arm.”

“We need to get out of here. Is everyone else good?”

“There’s blood on me, too, but I think I’m—” Philip started, his slicked-back hair dishevelled for perhaps the first time in his existence, before he was looking right at Spencer. “It’s not mine. Spencer, you’re bleeding.”

What?

Maybe it had been a mistake to assume he felt so detached from that moment because of stress, or anxiety, or pure fight-or-flight reflexes. In fact, he hadn’t felt a fucking thing until he’d looked down at himself, the faces of the others around him paling. It didn’t require too much searching when ‘you’re bleeding’ suddenly felt like the biggest understatement in the world. Evidently, when he’d jumped to his feet in an attempt to grab for his sister, he’d exposed himself to the window.

He hadn’t felt a fucking thing then but he sure did now.

The blood was soaking into his dress shirt at a terrifying speed, and he was suddenly very aware of an intense pain growing just beneath his ribcage. Oh, fuck.  

One hand reached for his upper abdomen, another for the table.

One missed and he found himself falling to the ground, body suddenly weak as though it took seeing it with his own eyes for his brain to fucking register what was happening.

It was enough to break Cassie out of her trance, though.

Might’ve laughed at her crawling toward him hurriedly on all fours like something out of a horror movie if he hadn’t felt himself starting to fade a moment later.

Maybe he hated French food now, too.

And maybe, he wouldn’t have to worry so much about Elizabeth propping him up to be the next Leader of the Conservative Party if he was fucking dead.

[mrm-pachypoda]

Don’t worry I got you lol

Lethargy - Bastille

Dirty Harry - Gorillaz & Bootie Brown

So alright, cool, whatever - the happy fits

Growing Old on Bleecker Street - AJR

Black Shirt - Rustic Overtones

6up 5oh Cop-Out (Pro/Con) - Will Wood and the Tapeworms

No Distraction - Beck

Blow - Ke$ha

Something Good Can Work - Two Door Cinema Club

Eve of Destruction - The Chemical Brothers

Le Retour à La Terre - Les Fatals Picards

Deceptacon - Le Tigre

It’s Been a Long, Long Time - Kitty Kallen

The Other Side of Paradise - Glass Animals

Midnight City - M83

Loud Pipes - Ratatat

Leave Me Alone - I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Shame Shame - Foo Fighters

Supermassive Black Hole - Muse

Never There - Cake

Cynical - Enter the Haggis

Call This # Now - The Garden

Pretty Little Ditty - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Go Robot - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Jerk It Out - Caesars

Michael - Franz Ferdinand

Hot N Cold - Katy Perry

Sex on Fire - Kings of Leon

Blind Leading the Blind - Mumford & Sons

Cough Syrup - Young the Giant

Anna Sun - WALK THE MOON

Walking the Dog - Fun.

Walk Me Home - P!nk

Talk Too Much - Coin

Dear Life - Beck

I Will Follow You Into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie

Girl - Jukebox the Ghost

Voulez-Vous - ABBA

May have gone overzealous and made multiple persons’ worth of song recommendations, hahah

Uhh how about

@chaotic-neutral-anxiety @sincerelyhannibal @reddit-user-hotbox420 @dash-n-step @sea-buns @str4wb3rrycr3p3c00k13 @ratmelody

Have at thee!

Hey eyeone! I want to know what your favorite songs are, if you see this post you are CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGATED to reblog with at least 1 song you have listened to and enjoyed but if you have more you'd like to share then go ahead! Also tag your friends!

I'll start, I'm going to list 5 of my favorite songs

Dr Sunshine Is Dead by Will Wood

134340 Pluto by Cojum Dip

Vulture by Bear ghost

Dear John by I monster

And finally: playing places: Oceans by Cosmo Sheldrake

Here's the people I want to tag

@f4y3w00d5 @ashen-the-tiefling @terrencetheshark14 @underpaid-guard @blacktipreefsharkwizard @the-gnomish-bastard @thatgayforkcrow @lixorloveslicorice @yourlocalbreadenthusiast @agentldiddy @aileaxthevoidien @slutty-wizard-council @monsterfucker-research-wizard and anyone else who wants to play!!!

[michaeljfoy]

“Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely!”

The phrase absolute power corrupts absolutely is a popular proverb that has been around for centuries. Its powerful message speaks to the dangers of giving one person too much power and control. The origin of this phrase is not clear, but it has been attributed to several historical figures, including Sir John Dalberg-Acton and Lord Acton.

The proverb highlights the idea that when people are given too much power and control, they can become corrupt and abuse their position for personal gain. This can lead to negative consequences for the people they are supposed to serve, as well as for society as a whole.

The dangers of absolute power are not just limited to corrupt leaders, but can also be seen in corporations, institutions, and other organizations. When these entities have too much control, they can become abusive, leading to negative consequences for society.

Historical Context The idea of absolute power corrupting absolutely has been around for centuries and has been observed in various historical contexts.

The Roman Empire was marked by the concentration of power in the hands of a few people, who often abused their positions for personal gain. The French Revolution was driven by the desire to overthrow a corrupt and abusive ruling class.

The proverb has also been applied to more-recent events, such as the Watergate scandal, which exposed corruption at the highest levels of the US government, and the Enron scandal, which revealed widespread corruption and abuse of power within a major corporation.

The Importance of Limits on Power The idea that absolute power corrupts absolutely highlights the importance of placing limits on the power of individuals and organizations — particularly within governments. This can be achieved through checks and balances, such as an independent judiciary, a free press, and a robust political opposition.

It is also important to ensure that those in power are held accountable for their actions. This can be achieved through transparency, open and accessible information, and robust systems of oversight and regulation.

Fictional Characters with Superhuman Powers Can Serve as a Powerful Allegory Fiction often provides a powerful lens through which to explore complex themes, including the dangers of absolute power. This is particularly true in stories featuring characters with supernatural abilities, who — when given too much power — can wreak havoc on those around them.

In J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series, Lord Voldemort represents the dangers of absolute power. Through his quest for ultimate power, he becomes a cruel and tyrannical leader who will stop at nothing to achieve his goals.

In the X-Men universe, Magneto is a powerful mutant who seeks to take control of the world in order to protect mutants from persecution. Although his intentions may be noble, his methods are often brutal and indiscriminate, leading to conflict and tragedy.

These fictional characters serve as cautionary tales, highlighting the dangers of absolute power. They remind us of the importance of challenging the control of those who hold absolute power of any kind.

Conclusion The recurrent warning absolute power corrupts absolutely has been illustrated in many contexts, real and fictional. From historical examples of corrupt leaders and institutions to fictional characters with supernatural abilities, the dangers of absolute power have been made abundantly clear.

When power is concentrated in the hands of a few, it can lead to corruption and abuse. By promoting accountability, limiting power, and ensuring transparency, we can be on guard against granting anyone absolute power.

The End

Live the amazement of astonishing plot twists with a sneak peek at https://michaeljfoy.com/books/

And unlock the world of FREE fiction at https://michaeljfoy.com/ – Get your FREE novel now!

[mrm-pachypoda]

@mischieviem isn’t a cradle snatcher. They are, as we call in the business, a casket snatcher. A grave robber. A skeleton scrambler. The mortuary ASSistant

[ijustwantedtobeoneofthestrokesuk]

B.I.T.I. (Before Is This It)

London

While Pete and Carl were throwing poetry nights there was a bunch of bands bubbling in the London underground with a punk attitude and banging tunes. A scene was forming, it just needed a break, which came once The Libertines had theirs.  

There was loads of bands, some lasted a few gigs, a handful lasted a few albums. This is how it went for a few of them.

Special Needs

Special Needs was a band ahead of their time (forming in 1998) and they never got the opportunity to fully live out their potential, their name often drew controversy (they briefly changed it to The Needs) and they fell victim of being on a major label. 

Zac Stephenson “I worked at a London Irish newspaper in 1997 and Daniel (Shack) came along to do work experience. We had enough overlap of musical interest to become friends and he was learning guitar, I wanted to sing so first we started just kind of jamming in his bedroom. Then Phil started coming along and bringing his bass.  

At this point our main influence was probably the Manic Street Preachers, mainly the Richey period when they were a lot cooler. We all dyed our hair, wore eyeliner, shirts with spray-painted slogans, feather boas, the whole kit and caboodle. Slightly cringe now to look back on that.  

We did some sessions in a rehearsal room with a drummer I roped in, auditioned a few more but it looked like it was doomed to fail when Daniel and Phil decided to go to University in Sheffield.  

A few months in though, they rang me and told me they had met Andrew, who had an interesting vision about what a band could be like, and asked me if I’d still be interested in trying to get something going. I was, so I’d get the train up to Sheffield every few weekends and we’d do some stuff in a practice room.  

We went through drummers faster than you go through underwear but we persevered for the whole time they were at university. Summers in London gave us a bit of progress and then when they returned back to London we focussed on finding the perfect drummer and we did in Neil. He was better than any drummer we’d ever worked with before but he’d still go into a rehearsal room on his own and practice for hours. And he had a brilliant droll Scottish sense of humour. Just fitted in so perfectly. He was the missing piece of the jigsaw so to speak. He was like a sweeper in football. Sort of tidied up everything that was wrong with us musically. 

Still, we were finding it hard to get gigs, mainly due to our name, so we started our own weekly club night in a pub in Acton. It was quite a dive but we loved it. And we’d fly around London going to other gigs and nights. The next turning point for us then was when we met Sara and Nadia from the Pyrrha fanzine. They knew everyone. They introduced us to John Kennedy at Xfm, to Razorlight, and possibly most crucially Alan McGee. John Kennedy started championing us and we saw more people coming to our gigs. Then Alan offered us a single deal (on his label, {Poptones), which graduated to an album deal with Mercury and the rest is history I suppose. 

We recorded the album in March 2005 with Ian Grimble at 2khz in Willesden Junction. Alan McGee had spoken to a bunch of other producers, including Mick Jones, Bernard Butler and Andrew Loog Oldham. In fact Loog Oldham had apparently wanted to do it but he couldn’t make it work. It’s my favourite anecdote of the time that Alan McGee said that “the singer…” (me) was “…flying on the wings of greatness”. I mean that’s the guy that managed Oasis at the height of their powers, so it’s hard to imagine better. 

Anyway, Ian had worked with the Manics, Travis, Texas, so he had a good CV. He was a bit of a taskmaster. We did a week in preproduction where he helped us sculpt or prune some of the songs. I remember near the end of that process Alan came into the studio to hear how the songs were sounding. After we finished each song he said the same thing: “It’s a hit”. 

Ian made us do countless takes. Real perfectionist. Massively underrated producer. For one of the songs he set up the drum kit in the bathroom because he thought the tiles in there would give the acoustics he thought would work better for that song. He was right.  

I think the funniest incident in those recording sessions from my perspective was walking in to the kitchen and seeing the American artist Grace Jones looking in a state of distress. I asked her if she was OK and she walked up to me about six inches from my face and said, “I’m looking for honey.” So I helped Grace Jones scour the studios kitchen for a jar of honey. Unsuccessfully, I might add.” 

In the autumn of 2005 Mercury cancelled the bands' record contract as new management at the label cleared a lot of Poptones roster. The band negotiated a deal to keep the rights for the album but they didn’t have a label to put it out, the situation was frustrating for the band, audiences at gigs were getting smaller, they were skint, Zac moved back to Ireland and they broke up. 

The band were approached by ReAction Records who wanted to put out the album which was finally released in August 2006, receiving positive reviews but the band had moved on, there wasn’t the temptation to reform. 

After a 5-year break, the band had stayed in touch via Facebook and they decided to get back together, initially just for one gig at Proud in Camden, however, it sold out and they loved it so much that they said yes to every other gig they got offered, including gigs in New York and Norway. 

Zac Stephenson “Well, Glastonbury was one highlight. From that day onwards you’re always able to say you played Glastonbury which I think is a major ambition for pretty much every band starting out. Playing Hyde Park was great. New Year’s Eve we packed out the Kentish Town Forum. Touring was often fun. Could be tiring and tedious at times but when we got on stage it was (usually) brilliant.  

I used to love the radio sessions, Xfm, BBC, Virgin. And seeing your CD on the shelves in HMV was a kind of bucket list thing too. 

But I guess overall it was just seeing people packed together in venues singing the songs back to you. Our reunion gig at Proud Camden was beyond belief. 600+ people crammed in on a Tuesday night in February. We hadn’t played live for 5 years so the anticipation was palpable. Electric atmosphere.”  

The Crimea

The Crimea became one of John Peel’s favourite bands but their story begins a few years earlier, with the heavier and intense band, The Crocketts, a story that shows the destruction the music industry can have on people.  

Despite the negatives, The Crimea became trailblazers as they released their second album, Secrets of the Witching Hour for free online in 2007 which saw them featured in the news around the world while supporting huge bands such as Kings of Leon and Coldplay. Sadly, the years of mental health and addiction took its toll on frontman Davey, just as the band were reaching the goal they had been striving for. 

Davey Macmanus “The Crocketts started in 1995, we were so young, 18, when we got signed to V2. When we did our first photoshoot, it was with Mario Testino and it cost a lot of money, our manager said I looked a bit tubby so I developed an eating disorder which I had for the next 20 years, I thought food was poison. Our first tour was with The Pogues, I worshipped Shane Magowan, we were introduced to hard drugs, we were doomed from the start, somehow we were grouped into the whole indie scene, maybe because we formed in Aberystwyth and were part of the Welsh scene, touring with Stereophonics a lot, Space, Catatonia, Super Furries, 60ft Dolls. I became an alcoholic and drug addict. Every concert I was on ecstasy. I started hurting myself onstage, This became a thing, as our songs were about being bullied, self-harm and eating disorders, we attracted a crazy fanbase who came to all our concerts and showed me their scars. 

Although the band was doing very well in terms of selling out bigger and bigger shows and getting 5 out of 5 in the music papers, commercially we didn't sell enough records and V2 brought us into their office one day, there was a new head of A&R, Malcolm Dunbar, he played us three songs, Stereophonics’ Have a Nice day, Feeder’s Buck Rogers and Blink 182’s famous song, Then he told us he wanted our third album to sound like that. It didn’t, our music was getting heavier and heavier and our actions more destructive, we were dropped. 

Suddenly we had to get jobs, me and Dan, the guitarist were working the nightshift in Sainsburys in Romford. Instead of taking cocaine we were taking speed, instead of drinking Jack we were drinking yellow pack, we were all living in the same house, and eventually, I woke up one morning and Rich the bass player was gone, then Dan the guitar player locked himself in his bedroom and didn't come out for several weeks, then suddenly he was gone. There was only me and Owen the drummer left, we decided to completely reinvent ourselves, change our style and sound and play beautiful music. Instead of our audience smashing the venues they would sit down like at the cinema. 

We were so lucky, we rapidly built up a following, suddenly instead of being in Kerrang we were in The Guardian, we were being lauded as cool which was amazing that we had turned that tide around and people were respecting our change of direction. We weren’t part of any scene until later on by accident because we played with lots of big bands that liked our music. 

I met John Peel outside the American Embassy in Grosvenor Square. I was working for the council, sweeping the streets, it was autumn and the leaves kept falling from the trees, it was a fucking nightmare, I was dressed in the street cleaner uniform and I had one of those dustcarts you push, I recognised John Peel going into the Embassy and I went up to him and gave him a demo CD, that night he played all 7 songs from the CD on his show. He said on air that he went back and listened to The Crocketts but he didn't like them, but he loved The Crimea. Before he died he said about Lottery Winners on Acid ‘I could listen to that forever and ever”. He helped us so much and played us so much but after that first meeting I never met him again. 

We were just incredibly lucky again, while at South by South West we were seen by Perry Watts Russell a famous A&R guy for Warner Bros. We were actually offered a few different deals and we went with him because he had signed Radiohead, Damian Rice and Arcade Fire and all these other people. Plus we wanted to go and live in America. 

For our debut album we went to Mississippi to record with this famous producer, He had just produced Modest Mouse (who we toured with later) Cop Car single so he was the hot guy at the time. We were there for months and months but we were just getting high and not getting much done, while the producer was changing all our songs in ways we didn't like. He wore a white coat because he was meant to be a scientific genius. I didn't get on with him, I liked him a lot and we were friends but we had different musical ideas, we wasted hundreds and thousands of dollars with this dude, so we went to New York for another long period of time and re-recorded the album with another producer in James Iha’s studio. 

I kinda knew we were going to be dropped as our singles from the album had been on the decline, no.20 something, then no.47, then no.60 in the charts, Radio 1 had yet again (for the second band in a row) refused to playlist us, we had the A list on Xfm but that didn’t matter, we had amazing press but that didn’t matter. 

So when we were dropped by Warner Bros. we still had a really good publishing deal with WEA so that kept us going and we recorded an album ourselves, we had an old house near Norwich in the country and we rehearsed there for weeks on end and recorded, the band were amazing, Joe, Andy and Owen and the guitar player we had at the time Andy,  and we all stuck together and worked hard. We went to Latvia to mix the record with Greg Haver, we loved the album, because we made it ourselves and it was dear to us.  

It wasn’t our idea to release it for free, it was our manager Tav. It was an incredible idea. We played on top of Primrose Hill at midnight on the day of release and the album was released at the same time, there were hundreds of people there, the next day we went to China on tour and we were on the front cover of newspapers all over the world, it was truly mindblowing, all the news channels were interviewing us and all these papers and we’re in China so it looked really cool. 

Q Magazine said it was one of the top 5 moments that changed music, we did get some credit for it, maybe not enough, but we got some adverts out of it and could still sell out our shows everywhere so we got to continue 

At first we had to pay to tour with other bands like The Pogues, The Levellers and Stereophonics, then we became friends with the Stereophonics and we never had to pay them to tour again, I enjoyed touring with Billy Corgan, Kings of Leon, Travis, Modest Mouse, Snow Patrol, Gary Lightbody from Snow Patrol actually financed our third album, Square Moon, he also financed my volunteering in Africa as a nurse. 

I had a lot of problems with my mental health, with the eating disorder, with self-harm, with drug addiction, then with a heroin addiction, When it came time to release Square Moon I was so frazzled I couldn’t tour or do interviews so I just had to stop the band and leave when we had just made our greatest record and finally achieved what we had been trying to achieve for 20 years. 

I didn’t get any support from any labels, in fact they encouraged me to be wild, I had a lot of support from my bandmates and my family but they couldn’t help me. I just felt this pressure all the time as the songwriter to come up with hit songs, so I was obsessed with writing and trying to write hits the whole time, that's why we only really developed our sound when we were dropped and it gave me the freedom to not have to worry about writing hits and inadvertently wrote our best music  

Releasing Square Moon on double vinyl and the reviews it got are things I look back on fondly, then becoming a nurse and going to Africa, the highlight of my career was playing round a campfire in the middle of a desert to a bunch of orphans with HIV, you have to really sing from your heart when you don’t have a microphone.” 

Neils Children

Neils Children are one of the bands who were overlooked during the 2000’s but their DIY ideals and approach to consistently evolve is the reason that they have continued to make music, well, the 2 founding members, frontman John and drummer Brandon, they’ve got through a handful of bassists over their years.  

Scenes aren’t built to last but Neils Children have never been part of the scene which has allowed them to be different to the trends or a short-lived fad.  

Firstly, they formed in 1999, before The Strokes arrived, by the time the 2000’s bands were starting out Neils Children had already been together a couple of years. They came from Harlow, on the outskirts of London, they were inspired by the ‘60’s and they sounded different varying between post-punk, freakbeat pop and psychedelia. They looked different too, decked out in black with makeup, big hair, fur coats, skinny jeans and pointy shoes, they had to time their journeys into London to avoid trouble with football fans. They were doing this years before their mates, The Horrors, who they influenced.  

Everything about the band was intense and their live shows were always exciting. The band was fearless and did everything themselves. 

The pair were studying music together and immediately bonded over bands, within a couple of months, they were in the rehearsal rooms in college. John already knew how to play guitar, Brandon had to learn the drums and their classmate Tom was on bass.  

Aged 16 and looking for music that excited them was hard in 1999, until they discovered ‘60’s pop which then led them to the underground psychedelic scene.  

It wasn’t just the music but the clothes, the style and the community which was lively in Mousetrap, a ‘60’s psychedelic club night in Finsbury Park. They were the young outsiders but they quickly fitted in.  

They rehearsed a lot and started playing regularly, word got around that they were an exciting young band, described as freak-beat ‘60’s and even though that was what they were listening to, ‘80’s influences organically crept in too giving them a punk edge with The Jam and Buzzcocks. In the summer of 2000 they met Rhys, who would go on to form The Horrors years later and they struck up a great friendship and became the house band at his club, Junk, in Southend.

Their influences would grow even further when they discovered the likes of Yeah Yeah Yeahs and The Rapture who were starting to make their way over to the UK. This then took them on to listening to Public Image Ltd and Gang Of Four, their sound evolved into something more raw with a nod to post-punk and a contemporary twist. 

John’s grandad managed the band, he helped them out financially and drove them around. He had no interest in music but loved being part of the gang. He joined them on a tour of Spain before the band had released anything, organised by friends from the psychedelic scene. They drove for three days to Barcelona and made their way around the country for 10 gigs with a settee in the back of a van and a map to get around. It was DIY at its best and they loved it.  

Soft City Recordings signed them up in 2003 to release their ‘first album’, the band don’t really like it to be looked on as their first album as it was a few singles and a bunch of songs they quickly recorded. These days it would probably be called a ‘mixtape’ today, the label was keen to get it out as a stepping stone for the band to get signed to a major label. They practiced a lot, they were super tight and ended up recording 4 or 5 songs a day, all live. 

Once the band started seeing others investing in them they upped their game, stripped everything back to give fans the best possible show, developing their songs and ‘think’ about what they were doing instead of just doing it. Although they toured a lot in the UK, it was Europe where they found more success. 

John’s grandad took a backseat from management as the band signed to a new label and got a management team in place. In 6 weeks they recorded what was meant to be their debut album in a studio on Old Street, London, they supported The Horrors on a UK 2-week tour then went on a headline tour for 2 weeks.  

The relationship with both the label and management team quickly went sour. They had been used to their DIY approach and got things done themselves, they found that things got slowed down when working with others. A single should have been ready to sell on The Horrors support tour but it was delayed and they weren’t happy with how the mix of the recordings for the album sounded so they got out of the contract, lost the songs and started again. 

After going on hiatus the band returned with a new psychedelic sound and went to France to record an album. 

John and Brandon were super close, John’s grandad was part of it too and each bassist they had played a key role in the journey, making the band feel more like a family. 

NEXT CHAPTER

[mrm-pachypoda]

Is that fucking Marlboro??

[th78]

The blue bracelet movment

YES we need a symbol of solidarity, but ladies, a braclet is not all we need to do. we need to get up, and do something. words are nothing if not backed by action. wear the braclet, but do not do it as a preformative act. thts what this is until we stand up and do something. attend SAFE peaceful protests if you can, if you have a platform, SPEAK UP ON IT. Do not lie complacent, a bracelt means nothing if you are nto willing to speak up abotu why we are waearing the bracelt. You have tik tok, insta, FB, tumblr, ANY OF THEM, USE IT TO SPEAK UP TAKE A STAND. a simple braclet, is nto as rebellious as you think. we need to get up of our couches, and do something. more then a bracelt. All this to say, DO wear the braclet however, the braclet means nothing if you are not willing to make actons that back it up. I know many of the women on here may be in areas they cannot take action, and i sympathise with your for your voice being silenced in a sea of red, but do what you safley can to back up our claim of using this braclet as a form of unity and solidarity among women. DO NTO HIDE BEHIND IT AND CLAIM YOUR DOING WHAT YOU CAN. USE IT AND DEFEND ITS CAUSE. OH AND! We do not get to decide if we are a safe space. YOU do not determine if YOU are a safe space. The fellow women and marginalised commmunitys do. you do not decide your a safe person. you demonstrate that. i can claim left and right all day long till im blue int he fface "im a safe space" but if i do not show that, then i am not