#almost beyond parody

[paintpanic]

big if true

[eldragon-x]

I just had a dream and the last thing that happened in it was that I saw one of my mutuals saying that they started utena and my will to ask them if they've read the trigger warnings was so strong that I woke myself up

[faunandfloraas]

just when I think it can't get worse I see another video someone even joke that they were going to get coronavirus from skz

https://twitter.com/sanavascainass/status/1787700607471468775?t=6vyGMCeT_h74tJzDbQ92CA&s=19

😬

[cskv11]

Hmm, for whatever reason, I believe this one shot from the new "How NOT to Draw" short:

is Bill straight up mocking the concept of free will AGAIN.

(this dude has some deep issues with this subject smh)

Allow me to explain myself:

In the original painting (Creation of Adam):

it's God's index finger (right hand) that's fully extended, while Adam (left hand), even though he has his arm fully outstretched, keeps the last phalanx of his index finger slightly bent; symbolizing that God is always there, but the decision to connect to him is up to humanity. If they want to, they can extend their finger and connect with God; if not, they can spend their entire life without seeking him, thus explaining the concept of free will.

Knowing this, if we now analyze Bill's shot, it seems as if the roles have been reversed: It looks like it's Bill's index finger that's slightly extended, while God's is uncomfortably contracted, almost purposely avoiding that contact from happening...

And if we dig a little deeper here, we can find lots of symbolisms, like Bill's desperate thirst for power and control, the lengths he's willing to go to cross beyond the natural order of things, his desire to be the one who plays God, and to have absolute sovereignty over the fate of his disciples, even though that role definitely has never belonged to him. He wants to 'reach' out to God, to become God himself, but it comes as unnatural, the 'Universe' itself retracts to avoid that from ever happening...

However, it can also be interpreted as just a simple mockery towards free will itself: the roles are reversed, no matter how much you extend your finger, you'll never make 'contact' with God because he is making the voluntary effort to avoid any contact with you.

Long story short: there's no such thing as 'free will' because you never actually had the option to 'choose' to connect with 'God' since there NEVER was a hand reaching out to you IN THE FIRST PLACE.

I might be wrong, and I might be reading way too much into it; I don't know much about art history, but I just found it interesting to see a parody of that painting hahaha

[loving-n0t-heyting]

At court today this poor guy was set to agree to his plea deal, and after having the contents summarised orally by the judge went to look over and sign the document only for the judge to rebuke him, telling him effectively not to dawdle around reading it without signing it. When the man expressed a(n eminently reasonable) worry that the terms might be harsher than what he was led to expect, the judge told him to just sign the thing and if looking over it later he had any confusions or concerns to bring them to his attorney (who ig on this theory is supposed to… un-sign for him the legal document she drafted?). Stop wasting time reviewing the bargain when you could be approving it already! Self-parody at its peak

You can point abstractly to all the outrages permitted by the relevant codes and statutes and case law in US criminal courts, but none of this really captures the principal day-to-day atrocity to smack you continuously in the face if you ever actually attend: almost everyone present in an official capacity is strained decidedly beyond their capacity and the institutional machinery is reduced to a permanent state of rush and dysfunction. Every crew is a skeleton crew and due dates are effectively missed contemporaneously with their announcement. This is not a way to operate a criminal justice system. This is not a way to operate anything.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Mihawk prefers to keep work and his private life separate. On one rare occasion when these two have to comingle, Mihawk is rather upset at the attention you attract.]

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

When Mihawk said "It will be just a moment, my dear", you didn't think the issue would take more than half an hour. Yet here you are, two hours after he had left you in a fussy lounge in the back of Midnight Grove...

...and not a Dracule Mihawk in sight.

You let out an exasperated sigh and take another sip of your mai tai. The band is playing yet another song that sounds vaguely identical to the previous one. Similarly, the mob of other patrons seems to be merging into one, murky background of blurry figures in your eyes. Being used to the peaceful yet refined companionship of Mihawk, the aura of Midnight Grove is beyond unbearable.

Mindlessly playing with a coaster featuring a howling wolf, you don't notice a Marine cadet approaching you.

"I'm afraid I have to arrest you, my lady."

The unexpected and, frankly, unwelcome comment makes you look up from the devilishly fascinating coaster. Your eyes fall on a well-built man with long hair and a smug expression. The glint in his brown eyes makes you tense up in discomfort.

"Excuse me?" you ask him, not understanding the meaning behind his words.

The cadet gives you a bad parody of a flirtatious smile. "You look too beautiful," he purrs out.

You can't help but laugh. Somehow, you're undecided whether his pick-up disgusts or amuses you or maybe both. Perhaps his audacity forced a laugh out of you - the ring on your fourth finger is neither modest nor simple. Considering how the large gem in the golden band shone in the low light of the Midnight Grove, even a blind man could tell from a mile away that you are anything but single.

"Anyone waiting for you at home?" he continues his rather poor attempt at flirting.

With a casual flick of your wrist, you toss the coaster on the table. Feeling both curious and entertained, you decide to play along - for now, at least. "Why are you asking, sailor boy?" you question before taking another sip of your drink. The ice has melted and the diluted drink now tastes mostly of old freezer.

"He must be mighty jealous about you. And considering the gold you're wearing," he makes a point of staring at your cleavage, "a millionaire, too."

"Oh, this?" You look down at the necklace of jewels and pearls. A memory flashes before your eyes, suddenly remembering Mihawk's face, barely visible in candlelight as he clasps the jewellery around your neck, telling you sweet things only men in romance novels tend to say. "Yes, it's a gift from someone. I'm sure you know him," you tell the Marine cadet in a casual tone, already imagining how hilarious his face of terror will be when he realizes whose spouse he's been trying to woo. "Tall, yellow eyes, a rather large sword and...

"Awfully annoyed at your impertinence, boy."

The low, guttural voice laced with withheld anger makes both of you look away. There, standing right behind the cadet, is Mihawk himself. Part of his large physique blocks the scarce lighting, making him look significantly more insidious. In the twilight of the Midnight Grove, with fury burning in his eyes, Mihawk appears closer to a demon than a man.

Although the room is dark, you can clearly see the way the cadet's blood draws from his face and the way his eyes are suddenly bigger than an owl's. He scrambles to his feet, almost falling off his chair. Then, muttering apologies and promises of better behaviour, the young Marine runs off only to disappear in the crowd of Midnight Grove's patrons.

Mihawk's eyes follow the youngling for a moment.

"I should have him strung up and killed," he says more to himself than you.

"Or," you speak up, a playful smile curling your lips, "you could sit down, have a drink with your beautiful wife and gloat about the fact that you're the only man to undress her."

You might just be a witch because the change in his demeanour is instant. There is still something wild in his bright, yellow eyes but it's not bloodthirst or anger anymore. You notice how he glances at the ring and the necklace, admiring his own signs of "ownership". One would think they're big enough to send the message. Alas, some people just refuse to receive it.

"You have me convinced," Mihawk says as he sits down next to you.

[citadelofmythoughts]

Not that I especially thought the Barbie movie was some feminist masterpiece but the fact that a man is getting an Oscar nom for it is almost beyond parody.

[mclalan]

Can you share what your art-making process is? What software and tools do you use?? I'm falling in love with your work!!

Thank you, I'm so happy you like my work and are interested in the process. The short answer is I mostly use Adobe Animate.

I hate how I'm using an Adobe product (although I still regard it as a MacroMedia Flash product), but there's just no other software that compares to its jankiness. Perhaps it's just my long familiarity with the program, but nothing I've experienced matches how it simultaneously feels like drawing in MS Paint and using Microsoft PowerPoint vector shapes. The result is something that feels in-between the two; handmade yet computer-generated.

Typically, I'll start with a hand-drawn sketch, often beginning as a thumbnail done with pencil and paper.

I'll then do a mix of hand drawing and vector shape tool rendering. I use the Paint Brush tool to hand draw strokes, and the line and shape tools mixed with transform to make more geometrically accurate shapes. The design is rendered into divided closed loop shapes, ready to be filled with a solid. The strokes are kept or removed depending on the design.

These fill shapes are then either coloured and rendered in Adobe Animate, using fills, gradients, or a more complex process of masks and effects.

Alternatively, I'll bring all these vector shapes into Photoshop and use them as clipping masks. The vector shapes act like masking taped areas or shields to maintain sharp edges, while the brush is like an atomized airbrush used to build soft volumed forms.

Please excuse all that horrible Adobe Cloud and AI bloatware...

And there we go!

Variations in the process include just using MS Paint, index color in Photoshop, or 3D programs.

Very old works of mine were almost abstract, just exploring digital mark-making, which was a trend I was following in the mid 2010s that I loved. This kind of stuff.

While my current work uses its digital material specificity as an intermediary to the subject in the illustration.

For example, #ersatz.world parodies clip-art and flash edutainment styles but imagines the characters living within that kind of world. The designs are meant to be cute, easy to read, light in computer processing, but also irreverent, janky, and generic too.

People typically regard this sort of clip art style as ephemeral trash, but I always found them charming. I use Ersatz World primarily as a satire vehicle, parodying educational formats to spoof corporate explainer content and digital media.

However, part of the problem with Ersatz is I've made it look too polished, complex, and I've grown too attached to the characters, which I imagine is a typical issue with overbuilding a world. So recently, I've made an even jankier Ersatz-like set of characters to play about with, using an even simpler style with less cohesion. I like to try and use slightly different styles and digital material styles to relate to the property at hand.

That’s why #autonymus has a bitmap digital material and a denser feel to it. Unlike Ersatz, Autonymus is not meant to be an overt semi-meta fiction. It’s not exactly pixel art, but the pixels are just about visible, as the intention is to create a digital expressionist depth to the setting. Although it’s still stylized and not realistic to our world, I definitely still want to evoke semblances of our world. That’s why there’s attention to landscape, plant life, and implied life beyond what you see in the frame with the characters, etc. But I'm still making a cartoon, and I still want it to feel at ease with itself being a digital material work. Characters are therefore flat, simple, stiff, and the speech style is like a bad Shakespeare parody. I like to balance between ugly and appealing, simple and complex, familiar and unfamiliar.

In regard to things like inspiration, references, and my relationship to aesthetic genres; these things certainly factor into my work, perhaps I'm even overtly dependent on them. My work can definitely be post-modernist in method; creating new, ironic, or fragmented interpretations through deconstructing a mix of various styles or methods. But at the same time, I'm still trying to make a digital gestural representation where the aesthetic is driven by my relationship to the software and techniques directly—not simply in an attempt to reference a style. For example, I like drawing lines in sweeping strokes, not to a point of geometric perfection, but just in a way where the curves are smooth and simple. But if I want perfectly curved or straight lines, I'll use the vector tools.

Working this way, you can sort of learn why certain styles and design choices in past vector aesthetics were made, as they would have also needed to make similar choices. That’s why I’m more mindful of using digital material specificity as a foundation to build narrative and subjects upon these days.

For example, genre references like cyberpunk clichés for #cyberhell or late medieval design for #autonymus or 2005 to 2015 era subculture fashion for #gradientgoblinz.

I think it’s important to take inspiration and reference from a wide variety of sources, but I think they’d mean nothing without having something to say or express. Autonymus, although it is a collection of tropes and clichés, isn’t just about that. It’s a story about the tensions of socially constructed systems and how that shapes faith, technology, and the natural world, or at least that's what I'm aiming for anyway.

But despite all that, I think there’s a danger of locking myself into the past by using these methods. For example, using nostalgia and references to past aesthetics can result in just recreating the past in a form of role-play. To avoid that, I try and evoke the past through a messy, inaccurate pastiche rather than caring to accurately re-enact anything. I’m probably not always successful at communicating the deliberateness of this, and it can certainly get very frustrating and pedantic. To be honest, I do kind of hate aesthetic labels (terms like Y2K, global coffee house, utopian scholastic designs from a pre-9/11 world).

I do not believe that a project aimed solely at mapping history through aesthetic styles is worthwhile. Sure, they can be handy for organizing style trends, but they can also be reductive and ahistoric. Who are these people to define the history of these design eras? The result is a kind of suffocating simulation of design history but removed from context, perfect for moodboardism. I wish it felt more tongue-in-cheek, less absolute of itself in its own practice. Instead, it acts to legitimize and engender those making these labels, almost giving them ownership of the design styles. It’s similar to the logic and process of generative AI and its databases in a way, just done manually.

I’m very inspired by artists like Oneohtrix Point Never in this regard, as I think he’s able to create an aesthetic portal to all kinds of memories, feelings, and worlds reminiscent of the past, while still being in the present. It’s more a reflection of how timelines are messy now, like a memory or dream, rather than an audacity to say the past was actually like that, or to try to actually map some kind of timeline.

I think the benefit of this process is how it avoids the other side of the spectrum—being locked into chasing the cutting edge of digital processes. I don't necessarily think using an old digital process means your work inherits the semiotics of old aesthetics. Non-digital mediums don’t have this issue to this degree, as you can still paint in oils and be considered contemporary, or at least it's not frowned upon to such a degree. And I also don't think anyone in the heyday of Flash ever made work the same as I do, especially as computers are more powerful now so can handle more. I probably shouldn't boast too much about that though, as artists at the time probably just had more sense than to use Flash like a painting program! So then, why is my use of Adobe Animate critiqued as obsolete and an aesthetic dead-end? Because to whose standards is this process obsolete? If you value digital aesthetics as an apparatus in industry practice, then sure, my work is redundant.

But as wonderful as the latest tech can be in creating new aesthetics, I do feel it can be overtly dependent on the trends and directions of tech corporations, and therefore act as an indirect propaganda tool to their hegemony over digital aesthetics, such as the ever-demanding processing power needed for simulated realism. If anything, work that does follow in the direction of the latest tech trends is ironically the quickest to date once the trends move on.

I've noticed I've not really described what my work is about, just the process, in this text. But I don't know, maybe I like Flash because it is regarded as redundant. No one really cares about it, so I feel free to make whatever I want, and can decide on form myself, to my own standards, the quality of my work. As fun as making images is, I find it difficult to put into words what it is exactly I'm expressing in my work, and perhaps that would spoil it anyway.

[kaiser1ns]

#. THE SYMBOL OF MY REGRET, YOU ARE MY BIGGEST SIN

featuring 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗸𝗮 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

angst. the hatred is a perverse form of affection, and even as you stand there, bruised and broken, both of you understand that this is the only way you know how to love.

tw :: toxic realtionship, physical harm, both parties are aggressive, blood, sadomasochism, takiishi is a warning on his own.

It's toxic, and suffocating, a bottomless pit, a trap without a drop of light. A continual pattern of emotional harm, disrespect, and manipulation leads you to deterioration in mental and emotional health, and you were already broken even before you started dating him.

You were screaming at each other, words harsh and cutting. Slapping him across the face, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you close with a growl. He was holding you tight, almost to break your arm at any moment as you kicked him to create a distance. The apartment was a battlefield, objects hurled and shattered in the heat of from another pointless argument. You threw a vase at him, narrowly missing his head. He retaliated by punching the wall, leaving a dent. Glaring at each other, breathless and wild-eyed, and it was nothing new. That's how your dynamic worked, that unhealthy dynamic, a parody of joy.

You wanted to take back your love and be free but you can't, or more likely you don't want to, refusing to acknowledge your own mistakes. He is strong and extremely tough but you are already used to it — used to him. You loved being in pain, and you loved when you caused pain. Unable to put limits on both of your vicious behaviors and possess the right to be merciless, the main task is to control and punish.

Was it normal for 18-year-olds to be like that, to behave like that? Was it normal to want to kill each other? This wasn’t love; it was a twisted addiction. But the thought of a life without him was more terrifying than the thought of killing each other. If he pushed, you would push back, harder and harder, until one of you broke. And if you had to chase him through every lifetime, hunting him down in every new existence, you would. 

His smile is manic, blood streaked across his face, a disturbing blend of sadism and masochism that few can comprehend, let alone tolerate. But then again, you’re the only one who can handle him. No one else could stand being around Takiishi Chika. No one else would dare. As his lips twist into a grin that speaks of both pain and pleasure as if he derives equal satisfaction from inflicting agony and enduring it himself, he charges at you again.

Meeting him head-on, a collision of bodies and raw emotion. His hands find your throat, and the world tilts as you gasp for air. But you fight back, fingers digging into his hair, yanking his head back until his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to slam your fist into his jaw. He stumbles, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, and for a moment, you think you’ve won. You are both broken, battered, bleeding—but not beaten. Not yet.

Your body is like a canvas painted with bruises and blood, each old scar opened anew like a used and worn palette. He isn't looking any better, you are one and the same. You push yourself further, beyond every limit, into a realm where suffering and pleasure blur into one. It's not just the pain you crave; it's the power that comes from embracing it, from turning it into a weapon against him.

Then he’s on you again, a storm of fists and fury, and you’re locked in a vicious embrace, each trying to outdo the other in terms of brutality. His fist connects with your side, and you retaliate with a punch to his ribs. It’s a back-and-forth dance of pain, each blows a showcase to your toxic bond.

His laughter is sinister, almost childish by the way he likes to have fun, as he wipes the blood from his lip. “Is this all you’ve got?” he taunts, voice dripping with disdain. The words cut deeper than any wound he could inflict, but you don’t let them break you. Instead, you let the rage boil over, your vision narrowing as you launch yourself at him again.

"You think you’re so tough?” you spit out, your voice laced with venom. “You’re nothing but a pathetic excuse for a man.”

You feel his fingers dig into your skin, nails scraping flesh, and the sharp sting of his teeth sinking into your shoulder. You scream, a raw, primal sound, and it fuels him further. He pulls back just enough to see your face contorted in pain, and his eyes light up with a sick satisfaction. 

Oh, how much he enjoyed it. Takiishi Chika enjoyed seeing you like this, he loved it when you became like him. A monster.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your tear-streaked cheek. You feel the warmth of his mouth as he presses his lips to your skin, tasting the mix of blood and tears. The kiss is far from affection; it’s an act of dominance, of possession. The metallic taste lingers, a cruel reminder of your helplessness.

His grip tightens, and you see the enjoyment dancing in his eyes. Takiishi Chika revels in this, in seeing you broken and bleeding, becoming something closer to his own twisted reflection. Your pain is his pleasure, your despair his delight.

His touch is both a torment and a comfort, a reminder of how deeply you've fallen into the abyss of your regrets. You are the embodiment of his darkest fantasies, as he is your ultimate sin—a symbol of his existence into a cruel mockery of love.

The apartment is a blur of chaos around you – furniture overturned, glass crunching underfoot, the echoes of your struggle bouncing off the walls. You catch a glimpse of yourselves in the mirror, two figures locked in a deadly struggle, indistinguishable from predator and prey.

Finally, you’re both on the floor, exhausted and bleeding, but neither willing to yield. You roll away, gasping for breath, staring at the ceiling as the adrenaline starts to fade. Takiishi lies beside you, his breathing just as labored. The silence is deafening, filled with the aftermath of your war.

You turn your head to look at him, and he meets your gaze, something shining in his eyes; it's euphoric. You know this isn’t over — it never is. This is your life, your reality, a cycle you can’t break. And as much as you hate it, you know you’ll do it all over again because this is how you love. The more you hurt each other, the more you realize how you can't live without him and he can't live without you. A tragic and sinful love story.

taglist :: @kajibunny @slerixx @maruflix @stunie

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[txttletale]

I had almost forgotten about the transfem plushie gf guy 😭😭😭😭😭😭

it was so fucking sickening. and like i wanna be super clear that i don't think thbere's anything inherently wrong with someone deciding they're happy and fulfilled in a relationship with an inanimate object, that's someone's prerogative if it makes them happy, good for them!

but like. saying the vilest shit to trans women and then hiding behind 'my transfem gf agrees with me' and the gf in question is an inanimate object is like. beyond parody in how on the nose it is innit. perfect symbolism.

[aurelim]

Genres: Slice-of-life, coming of age, comedy, drama, romance, parody

Status: No public demo, outline written, release date November 2024

Rating: 15+

Content Warnings: Violence, language, bullying, depression + depiction of other mental illnesses, manipulation, tba

Inspired by those Disney Channel movies (you know which ones) and The Parent Trap.

As a 17 (soon to be 18) year old senior, you are anxiously awaiting for the day you graduate, pack your bags, and ditch Sunnyview, the sleepy, incredibly boring, town that you have grown up in all your life. It has been your dream for as long as you can remember—sometimes you can almost taste freedom on your tongue, so close yet so far away.

But one day, all of that changes when the filming for a movie is announced near your hometown. Not only is it a Stephen Zuckerberg, but it stars the recent award-winning actor Taylor Victory. Their presence stirs great interest and excitement in your small town. You did not care much about the actor beyond your keen interest in Stephen Zuckerberg movies, or at least, you thought you did not.

Until you have a chance encounter with the one and only Taylor Victory, and you notice the eerie facial similarities you share with them. Thus, a deal is struck between you.

You will swap places with each other—Taylor will experience a normal week of high school as you, and you will live the life of an actor in their place. Plus, their offer of money doesn't quite hurt, and with it you would have enough to leave Sunnyview.

Oh, how little did you realize how much trouble you were about to get yourself into.

↬ customize your name, nickname, gender, looks, personality, etc.! however you will think of yourself as a "regular, ordinary" person living a boring life.

↬ taylor's gender, pronouns, and looks will be identical to yours (with a few modifications)!

↬ take the place of a famous teen actor and perhaps get to film a few scenes. lie, cheat, gaslight, manipulate; whatever it takes to convince others that you are who you say you are. otherwise...

↬ fall in love with your best friend, the popular kid (aka your crush), your "co-star," or no one. break or make your relationships with them.

↬ celebrate your 18th birthday as taylor and all by yourself.

↬ attend prom as yourself. or taylor? you aren't quite sure what it is yet.

Taylor Victory (gender based on MC) → The Identical Twin

The actor who became well-known for their lead role in the romcom movie "High Love" and won awards for it. Ever since Victory entered the entertainment industry at the age of 5, they have never been able to live a "normal" life. Until, that is, they meet you. They are charming, suave, and everything that you imagine an actor to be. Especially their cockiness.

Maxie Yang (gender selectable) → The Best Friend

You have known them ever since you were in diapers; your sweet, quirky, and incredibly reliable best friend since forever. They have always cherished you and you to them, acting as your shield when you used to be heavily bullied in middle school. They have a remarkable passion for art and is a total geek for mythology. Years later, Maxie remains the same as ever, though sometimes you catch their adoring gaze at you. Do they...no, probably not.

Tropes: friends to lovers, unrequited pining (on their part)

Kelsey Lovelock (gender selectable) → The Crush

Kelsey Lovelock is one of the popular kid at school...and has also been your longtime crush since 8th grade. You don't remember when it first began, but they have always treated you nice enough even if their friends are assholes and made your life hell the years before and during. Charismatic and currently in the running nominations for Prom King/Queen. They likely do not feel anything for you considering how little you have talked to them in your final year of high school…and they are dating someone else.

Tropes: acquaintance to friends to lovers, unattainable

Peyton Ryans (gender selectable) → The Co-star

Taylor's co-star in their upcoming movie together. And for whatever reason, they seem to hate Taylor with a passion. Unfortunately, they play as the protagonist (that's Taylor)'s love interest, so you often have to make contact with them. Perhaps you could try to persuade them to see a "different" side of Taylor and change their view. It all depends on how you play the game—just hope they don’t find you out.

Tropes: enemies to lovers, coworkers

FAQ

[iaure]

𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁; 𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗼𝗿

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟthe dearest collection - part one/beloved 𓆩♡𓆪 part two/prized 𓆩♡𓆪 part three/devoted 𓆩♡𓆪 part four/desperate 𓆩♡𓆪 part five/blind 𓆩♡𓆪 part six/watcher 𓆩♡𓆪 part seven/ardor 𓆩♡𓆪 part eight/fervor this is very heavily inspired by @//clusterfuck-yandere's yandere leon headcanons; please check out their works. this is something of a love letter to their puppy obsession series.

yandere leon s. kennedy headcanons; reader is a survivor of raccoon city.

tw: general yandere behaviour, stalking, harassment, ptsd, entrapment, delusional thinking

notes: the formatting will be slightly different in some parts, as using the headcanon format with dialogue can feel quite clunky.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ it's here it's here! the confrontation! leon being needy and begging! it's here! there were some zingers in this that made me laugh, and i hope they make you laugh too! i want to write the nsfw accompaniment after part 8 or 9 Ꮚ☆ꈊ☆Ꮚ i'm also getting a new pc!! which will be so so nice!! but that might mess with my writing for a bit, as i'll be getting it set up !

this was too much.

♡ you know, you'd imagine a situation like this a handful of times.

♡ a man sitting before you, with flowers and candles and clothes that looked divine and an expression of reverence beyond worship.

♡ in your head, it weas usually after a year or two of dating, followed by a proposal and living life happily ever after.

♡ but this situation felt like a cruel parody of that.

♡ when you saw Leon on your couch, your blood ran cold.

♡ this was something you'd hear about on some shitty crime podcast or an even shittier show on some late night cable channel.

♡ what was he going to do? drug you? kidnap you? kill you, even?

♡ when he said that you needed to talk, it was like a waking nightmare.

♡ he seemed like he was trying to be as non-threatening as possible, though.

♡ he was staring up at you with big puppy-dog eyes, and his floppy hair fell over his eyes.

♡ he looked absolutely desperate, and when you froze in your tracks, he held up his hands.

♡ "i'm not mad at you! i swear!"

♡ his voice was a bit pitched up, and his nervousness would've been if he hadn't blocked off your door and broken into your home.

♡ "get out of my apartment."

♡ Leon was clearly distressed, trying to placate you with fear on his face.

♡ "wait, wait, please!" he begged. "please, i just need you to listen to me!"

♡ and just for a moment, something wavered.

♡ he was, at one point, your friend. he deserved at least a chance to explain himself before you had him thrown in prison with a sturdy restraining order.

♡ you hesitated, but crossed your arms. "then talk."

♡ and the proverbial dam broke.

♡ Leon, at first, was just babbling, hands waving everywhere as he tried to spit everything out at once before you lost what little patience you had left.

♡ it was almost cartoonish, but you put your hand up. "i don't understand gibberish."

♡ he stopped immediately, eyes wide, and took a breath. he began padding down his pockets for something, and you realised that he was fumbling for flashcards that were sticking out.

♡ when he finally got to them, he took a second to read over the first, and you saw that his hands were shaking.

♡ and as he took a breath to compose himself, you watched his face.

♡ he had a ruddy, blotchy blush across his cheeks, and his mouth was slightly agape.

♡ when he looked up at you past his bangs, you saw his eyes, and they were by far the most expressive part. they were fully on you; not predatory, but oozing devotion. not lust. not childish infatuation. love.

♡ love, dedication, worship.

♡ all for you.

♡ there was a second where he just looked between you and the flash cards, before tossing them onto your coffee table.

♡ "i love you!"

♡ the look you gave him was...unimpressed to say the least.

♡ "and why does that warrant you breaking in?"

♡ you could see his heart plummet at your questioning.

♡ "i...i needed to talk to you. and you've been avoiding me, so..."

♡ "and how does that translate into you harassing me? stalking me? scaring the hell out of me?"

♡ were he a dog, his puppy ears would've been plastered to the side of his head.

♡ it was like you were kicking him while he was down.

♡ you began walking over to your landline, about to dial 911, when he shot up form the couch.

♡ before you could even react-was he going to attack you?!-he made an abrupt dive and clung to your legs, holding steadfast and almost making you fall over.

♡ it was, truthfully, pathetic.

♡ and you stared down at him.

Leon looked closed to tears, placing his head against your thighs and locking his hands around the back of your knees.

"Please! Please don't!" He was whimpering and borderline about to shout, breathing hard. "If you leave, I'll die! My heart would just stop beating! I can't live without you! You're everything to me! You're my world, and-! Please!"

You stared down at him. He looked helpless, like he really would just drop dead if you picked up the landline. And there was a second where you just felt...bad.

Everything he had done was with good intention, even though it was creepy. He never did hurt you, and it was clear that something was just...wrong with him.

He saw your silence, your stillness, and looked up at you with those big hopeful eyes, wide and glittering from his tears. He slowly stood, still staring at you, and began gently guiding you back to the couch.

"Please. Just hear me out."

He sat down, and you sat down, and there was a beat of silence. Then he opened his mouth, and everything came out like a waterfall.

♡ he admitted to being K.

♡ you knew-suspected-guessed-had a hunch-but it still made you ache. how long had he been like this?

♡ his devotion was obvious. he began listing off things he did for the sake of honesty.

♡ he admitted to stealing your clothes, to breaking in and stalking you. at first, it was like a sick joke with everything he said.

♡ but slowly...you started to get less mad.

♡ he broke into your house...to clean.

♡ he followed you to and from work...to protect you.

♡ he never once meant to harm you or others. physically, at least, as he confessed wanting to get Selia fired.

♡ he admitted to having to build up the courage to talk to you, standing outside, watching...out of love.

♡ he tried everything to take care of you.

♡ and something in your heart shifted.

♡ he did this, and certainly he needed help, but was it really fair?

♡ he risked so much to do what he perceived as love. as care.

♡ maybe...you could help him get help. you doubted he was lucid enough to know he needed it.

While you thought, Leon kept on talking, trying to keep you hooked on his words until your patience was gone again.

"I've loved you for...god, so long now. It's been months, I think. You were always just so nice, even to people you didn't know, you know?" He played with his hands, the desperation in his voice beginning to edge away. "Back on the forum, I didn't like that you were trying to help everyone by yourself. And you were always so sweet when you responded to me. It felt like I knew you my entire life. The people from Raccoon City, the people that know what happened...it's really a world of it's own."

You nodded. It really was. Leon sighed.

"Trying to save those two...I never said their names, did I? Sherry and Claire. Sherry was maybe ten, I think. She was under my care for a while, and I saw how the outbreak was scary. Caring for someone like that is scary. And you were trying to do it for so many people. I wanted to help you."

"You know stalking someone is scary?" You glanced up at him, breaking your gaze from the flashcards that sat on the table.

"I'm sorry." He whimpered. "I'm sorry."

"When you sent those messages, I was scared shitless, Leon." Your voice was firm, but quiet. "I thought you were going to kill me or kidnap me or something."

"Never!" Leon's voice jumped. "I'd never do that! Swear to god! I wouldn't ever hurt you! I just-! I was scared. Scared that you hurt yourself, or something. I wanted to respect your privacy for as long as possible, but...I really wasn't sure what happened."

You stayed silent.

"And I love you. I really do." Leon bit his lip, trying not to cry again. "I know I didn't really talk about my family."

"Mhm." You watched him bite, eyes going up and down and across his face. "You knew all about mine."

"I'm sorry."

"Your family?"

"They're...well, my parents died when I was a kid. And a cop took me in. And there was a lot of people liked me when I was a teenager for my looks, and it really messed me up. Literally right before the outbreak, I had just broken up with my girlfriend."

You raised an eyebrow, and Leon gulped.

"Am I a rebound or something?"

"No! No! I didn't mean it like that!" Leon gasped, jumping out of his seat and reaching across the table. Your hands had been right on the edge, and when he touched them, you pulled back a bit. "She didn't really seem to love me, and I wanted someone who wanted more than just a guy who was nice-looking. And you were nice to me when you didn't even know who I was. And you were nice to me at the bakery, and during the power outage, and it was just a lot."

You were silent again, biting the inside of your cheek. Leon began panicking again.

"I wanna marry you someday. If you want to get married, that is. I wanna do everything for you. I want you to just stay home or go out and have fun or do whatever you want while I take care of the house. I want to see you happy. I want to see you safe. I want you to live out the best life you possibly can, and I want to be next to you during all of it."

You finally spoke, and your hands reached forward a bit to actually hold Leon's. He gave a stuttering gasp, and you could feel the sweat building up.

"What do you want out of this?"

"What?" He tilted his head, squinting. He took a second for it to compute, before making a confused expression. "What?"

"You came in today hoping for an outcome." Your words were eerily clinical. "What's that outcome? The best case scenario?"

Leon went still, thinking hard. His eyes glanced to the side, before nodding.

"I want to marry you."

"No."

"Okay." He gave a bitter chuckle at your quick response, face falling with a wince.

"However."

"However?!" He gasped, lighting back up again.

"I'm open to dating-"

Before you could even finish, Leon leapt up with a cheer, picking you up and swinging you around in a hug. The sudden brute strength was startling, but he was too busy rejoicing to notice your gasp.

"I'll be the best boyfriend ever, I promise! I'll do everything for you, I'll move in right away-or you can move in with me! We'll figure it out! I love you! I'm so excited! This is the best day of my life! I love you so much!"

"L-Leon!" You gasped, trying to get some words out past his bear hug. "On some conditions!"

Leon stopped swinging you around, putting you on your feet with a big grin.

"Of course! Anything!"

"One-don't threaten Selia."

"Who?"

"My coworker?" At your words, Leon's eyes went wide, with a 'ooohhh'. "I, believe or not, like hanging out with her."

"Okay." Leon nodded.

"Stop stealing my stuff. Ask first."

"Sounds good!"

"And just walk me home. Don't stalk me."

"I mean, I was doing that before..."

"Don't sass me."

"You're the boss!" Leon bent over to kiss you with a happy smile, but you blocked him with your hand, putting it over your mouth. He laid a full smooch onto your palm, opening his eyes with a questioning look.

"Mmh mmh? (Too soon?)"

"Yes, Leon. Too soon."

𓂋

ʚ♡ɞ taglist @theybotomy ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @kujosuke ⸜❤︎⸝‍  @je-suis-argent-miel  ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @xxacademy ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @apollodarling-writes  ⸜❤︎⸝‍  @gettingsilly ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @yumekos-gamble

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 15/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

hooo weee this is a long one. A reaction chapter part 1

A few things to clear up:

Sir Pentious is in Heaven

They do not know that yet.

He'll have a part in the sequel!

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

Charlie is beyond worried.

She and the entirety of Pride sat in anticipation as Hell's highest powers perform the ritual again. Her dad disappeared a month ago and in his absence, she thinks she had handled Pride rather well. Vaggie and her friends were a big help though, as well as her uncles and aunts if they could.

Charlie has not missed once broadcast ever since it aired. Every time she looks for her dad among the demons and every time she's disappointed.

She keeps watching anyway in support- no matter how busy she was. The hotel residents do the same, dropping what they were doing to all sit in the couch together and watch this 'til it ended. The first time it aired created a mass panic that Charlie had to induce a Hellshake to placate her people. It somehow worked.

After the panic, it became the biggest hit "show" in Pride, resulting in the production of legit merch and even a few parodies- like it's just a game, like this can't kill them all.

That craze lasted almost 2 weeks but even the fanatics stopped watching when it was apparent that this wasn't a quick fix. Panic again then calm then panic- over and over and over again.

Vaggie: Babe?

Charlie: Hey, Vaggie.

Charlie tried to give her lover her usual smiles but she thinks she haven't given one ever since her dad left. Worry and guilt are eating her whole and she's just trying to stay afloat.

Vaggie: Hey, come on. What's going on in that pretty head of yours?

Charlie: Flatterer.

Vaggie: Not wrong though. But don't try to change the subject. .. Is it about your dad?

Charlie: I don't think I remember a time in a hundred years when it wasn't. When did it go so wrong, Vaggie? We were so happy when I was a kid..

Something inside the princess whispered her mother's name. She shakes off that thought because there's no way. Her mom and dad loved each other.

'But then why did they split? Why did your mom leave? Why did your dad fall in love with someone again?'

The voices are making a point but there's no chance her dad was going to tell her everything and it's not like her mom is even an option.

When Vaggie told her that Alastor and her dad were something, she tried to think of every moment she saw of her dad and the radio demon together after the hotel was rebuilt. The princess of Hell trusts Alastor but she doesn't know if she can trust him with her dad.

But..

Charlie: Dad is happier.

Vaggie: Huh?

Charlie: Sorry. Was thinking of him and how Alastor is probably helping him come out more than I am.

Vaggie: Hey hey. I know your dad would be devastated if he knew you were thinking that. He loves you and you love him, right?

Charlie: More than anything.

Vaggie: That's my girl. Now why don't we-

Cherri: Holy shit! Guys! The broadcast turned on again!

All of them rushed to the lobby upon hearing the cyclops yell. They thought it was over 30 minutes ago when the nth overlord and Goetia fainted. Guess Vox was a bit afraid he would be next and turned it off to save face.

Angel: Holy shit!

Holy shit indeed. The one on the screen is none other than her dad! And a beautiful lady in white?

Husk: Who the fuck is that?

Nifty: She looks so clean! I wanna know what products she use.

Vaggie: Do you know who that is?

Charlie: Probably who dad was looking for.

Goodie: Such words! Angel, was self-preservation not included when you gave them the fruit of knowledge? Lucifer: Apparently not.

Okay, they clearly missed out on some context because her dad just arrived and he's mad. They watch as Lucifer grabs Velvette's face hard enough to bleed. Everyone is kneeling and seem to be locked in place. Husk eyes Alastor's monstrous form in the background warily.

Husk: Something happened.

Lucifer: I can't blame you. I was not the most present ruler, after all. But I thought I made something very clear when I dealt with that moth man.... I guess one example isn't enough.

One moment Velvette was struggle and the next her fucking jaw is gone!

Angel: Holy shit!

Husk: Ugh! You keep saying that. Don't you have any other words than holy shit?

Angel: 'M sorry, Huskie. But what else am I supposed to say to that huh??

Charlie's winces but her eyes are still glued to the screen as her dad summons his flaming sword and brings it down to the pink demon.

Lucifer: So, let me keep it simple. I'm Lucifer Morningstar. The creator of the first sin. The angel that damned humanity. Í̷̫̈́́͂̒̚̕͝͝͝'̶̨̛̺̤̿̀͒͛̂̿͋̄̑͆́͘͠͝M̴̝̯̖̦͍̽̎̏͆̔ ̴̛̛̄̋̈̑̓̀̓̃̄͐͗ͅŸ̷͇̙̟͈̭̥̬̻̙͔̠̱́̽̊̊ͅÔ̵̤͙͈̬̫̪͕̼͍͌̀̔͜U̴͈̼͖̯̤͌̀̀̓̾̔͆̈́̊͑͗̕͠͝R̵̨̹͍̦͒͌̋͒͆͌̄͛̓͑̔́͜ ̸̝͑̐̀̉̃͠͝F̵̞͖̮̗̗̜̯̯͔̮͒̊͒̈́̈́́̽́̂̂͑̎͝U̵̟̙̱̙̯̤̼̙͈̳̘̫͊̈̀C̷̙̞̔̅̊͌͋K̷̖͙̼̪̠̾̄̅̾͘I̵̛̩̘̜͖̩̙̿̐̽́͊́̒͆̆̎̑͗N̴̤̏̂͝G̸͋̋̍ͅ ̵̡͈̩̹̗̹̝̻̬͍̗̬̲̳̟̍͋̽͛̒̉̍͊͑̑̋̅̽Ḳ̷̡̬͔̞̱̤̬̮͉̙͇̪͛̅͊̚I̵̤͙̪̞̝͔̱͎̜̩̖̺̟͔̙͊Ṉ̵͈̤̘͚̻̙̼̓͂̌͋́̎͜ͅĢ̸̭͔͇̹̹̳̭͋̓̒͗̈́̉̈́̂̚.

They all had to avert their eyes as a giant ball of flame came down to finish Velvette off.

Lucifer: Û̶̪̌͐́̂̆͠͠n̸̛̟͕̱͍̫̘̻̣̱͈͈͇̱̜͛̓͗̏̅̇͋̒͆͊̓͗̚͠d̷̢̢̨̼̙͈̞͈͓͈͙̂̌͋̔̂̉̍̈́͆̿̈́̕͘͜͠e̵̛͍̯̫̼̫̐͛̊̒̆̉̓̊̽̓̒̒̚͘ŗ̶̨̢̧̮̜͙̪̹̯̙̪̤̠̝̓́̒̋͆̆̓̿͐̄̓̕̚̕ş̷̛̮͖̰̝̟͇͕̟̞̳̟̪̥̂̀̈́̈͗́̿̐̔̎̕̕͠t̶̮̖̭̹͓͉̪̣̦͙̖͍́͐͂̑͒̑͂̑̾̓̍̊͝ô̵̥͓̥͐̄̏̀̾̀̽̆ò̴̜͇̣̣̳͖̗̹̟̇̓͑͝ͅd̸̨̨͈͓̠͑͑̒̎̈́͘͠?̸̟̎̈

Even the sinners in the safety of the hotel nodded in fear. Lucifer made a delighted noise and with a clap, Velvette is back in one piece, albeit trembling in Vox's arms.

Lucifer: What? Do you really think I killed her? Sounds counterproductive. We still have a situation at hand and you are no use to me dead. Goodie: Up now! My sister is becoming restless.

Everyone let out a breath they didn't know they were holding. Angel collapsed to Husk's side, when did he even stand up? Nifty didn't move a muscle but her maniacal smile is gone. Cherri started fiddling with an ignited bomb out of nowhere which Angel had to move to throw.

Goodie: Remember, angel, if this fails, you must do what I have told you. Lucifer: Let's start.

Angel: Holy shit.

Holy shit indeed.

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

Part 16 will be the 2nd part of the reaction before Lucifer goes in!

Dk if I will post on Wednesday as it will be my birthday! yayy

[blood-inthefields]

Summary of all my Yennefer/Tissaia fanfics so far...

♠ All we are (is dust in the wind) ¬ It takes four days for Tissaia to find Yennefer after the battle of Sodden.

♠ Pynk (is where it all starts) ¬ In which hot-shot lawyer Tissaia de Vries unknowingly walks into a strip-club and finds herself hypnotized by one of the dancers there. Not how she’d planned her evening to go.

♠ Get naked (i got a plan) ¬ The phone rang, drawing her attention. With a sigh, she picked it up. “Phil, is that you?” Distorted by the line, a muffled voice answered her. “Johnny got clipped.” Tissaia’s hand balled into a fist. “You know what to do,” she replied curtly. The line went dead. She hung up, ran a hand through her hair. A bath would do her good. And then she would go find Yennefer. 

1920s AU.

♠ I’m your sinner (and your whore) ft. JZXR7 ¬ Due to circumstances entirely beyond Tissaia’s control (Yennefer. Due to Yennefer), she’s found herself trapped in her bedroom with a human whirlwind during a minor pandemic.

She has decided, in all her collected wisdom as Rectoress, that the girl has ten minutes to stop talking before Tissaia takes drastic measures.

♠ Want you, yes i do (bet you never knew it) ¬ The first time that Yennefer considers throwing Tissaia on a bed is in Rinde.

♠ I’ll be loving you (til the end of the night) ¬ Tissaia comes home after a hard day at work to find that her girlfriend has a couple of surprises in store.

♠ The one where Tissaia is a freestyle dance teacher ¬ “It’s Tissaia,” Triss told her, concern evident in her voice.

“What’s with her?”

Now closer to the window, Yennefer leaned forwards and watched as her former mentor, way down below, was shaking her arms and upper body in very strange ways. Had the woman finally lost it?

♠ I will let you down (i will make you hurt) ¬ She feels the blade against her throat before she’s even done with her sentence. Tissaia remains calm, despite the cold metal piercing the skin ever so lightly. Something warm runs down her pale skin and she knows it’s blood. Still, her eyes never leave Yennefer’s.

“Why,” Yennefer begins, almost shouting, as she stalks forward until she’s all up in Tissaia’s face. “Why did you let them send me to Nilfgaard?”

♠ My immoral ft. thinkbucket ¬ What’s up preps, I’m Yennefer Fireball Darkness Purple Mist Vengerberg and I’m a teacher at Aretuza.

or, a parody of legendary fanfiction My Immortal.

♠ Didn’t wanna believe it (but now you are all I see) ¬ It’s on their third date that everything goes to shit. In hindsight Tissaia should have known crushing hard on the whirlwind that is Yennefer would mean her life would be turned upside down. However, she had never imagined it would land her in jail.

♠ And now the surface ripples¬ She’s been scouring the Continent, desperate for a cure for her barrenness when word reaches her.

Tissaia de Vries is dead.

♠Find my place (in the warmth of your embrace)¬ A look at some entries of Tissaia’s diaries about her ever-evolving relationship with Yennefer.

♠ Stay a while (and be mine) ¬  Post Sodden Hill, Yennefer and Tissaia are back at Aretuza. One night changes their relationship forever.

♠ After hours ¬ Could the torture be any worse? Yennefer wondered. It was bad enough to have to spend entire days with Tissaia stuck in a classroom together with noisy, dirty children but being around her after the day was over and the children and other teachers had left was pure torture.

♠ Wanna kiss you (til I lose my breath)¬ The woman is not just a powerful sorceress, she’s an absolute witch and Yennefer tries to hide but it feels pointless. One look from Tissaia and she becomes an open book.

♠ I will reach for you (when you’re feeling low) ¬ Set in 2.03 after Yennefer shows up at Aretuza and gives Tissaia a gay heart attack.

They know, they all know what Yennefer means to her, how long she’s spent trying to find her.

♠ I used to float (now I just fall down) ¬ Post 3.08. Petals descending from the ceiling. Yennefer knew right away it was Tissaia, from way above up in her study, honoring her fallen girls. She looked at them, admired how they fell silently to cover the freshly dug graves.

Then the pain came.

Sharp, burning, unexpected.

Yennefer gasped.

♠ For neither ever nor never (goodbye) ¬ Missing scene from 3.08. Drabble.

♠ This is a glove story ¬ Tissaia receives a gift.

♠ If you wanna go (then I'll be so lonely) ¬ When she finds Tissaia on the floor surrounded by her own blood, Yennefer’s first instinct is to run to her, so she does. Her knees sink to the floor and she wails, cradling Tissaia’s body, hovering over her as if to shield her from harm. But the harm is done, and Tissaia’s the culprit, and Yennefer curses her name.

♠ Sinking fangs (into pumpkin delights) ¬ It is Halloween and Tissaia's been invited to a party where she meets a bewitching stranger… one that could potentially bite her, if asked nicely.

♠ Somewhere in the darnkess (us together for a while) ¬

“You’re playing with fire, Yennefer,” Tissaia warned, a hint of regret in her voice.

The younger mage closed the small gap between them, gently but firmly grabbing Tissaia’s hands with hers.

“Maybe I've always been drawn to the flames,” she replied, her eyes never leaving Tissaia’s.

♠ Do not stand by my grave and weep (I am not there, I do not sleep) ¬

“What did she mean to her,” Ciri bluntly asks after a while. The question’s escaped her but now she can’t take it back. She wishes she could when Geralt remains quiet and a slight frown appears on his face. He doesn’t know, she realizes. Or he does not want to tell her.

And that, in itself, is the beginning of an answer.

♠ Oh, my lover (you made me feel like no other) ¬ Freshly divorced, British architect Tissaia de Vries embarks on a journey to Italy where she finds herself caught in a whirlwind romance with a beautiful and enigmatic young gondolier.

[folk-enjoyer]

Song of The Day/history of cotton eyed joe

do you want the history of a folk song? dm me or submit an ask and I'll do a full rundown

"Cotton Eyed Joe" Terry Callier, 1963

As a disclaimer, "Cotton Eyed Joe" is my least favorite American folk song and I'm going to talk about why, and I'm going to talk about why Terry Callier's version is subversive and good.

The Earliest date we have for the song's origins is from 1882 when it was Published in "Diddie, Dumps, and Tot, or, Plantation child-life" by Louise Clark-Pyrnelle. This book is a nostalgic recollection of her childhood as a plantation owner's daughter. She reminisces fondly about slavery, missing the old plantation days. Honestly, some of the quotes within this book are beyond parody, in one sentence she says "... My little book does not pretend to be any defense of slavery" and in the next sentence when referring to the morality of slavery she writes, "there are many pros and cons to that subject", later at the end of the chapter she laments about the forever lost emotional connection between the Masters children and the enslaved people. hate this woman and her little book.

It is also important to note that this book goes out of its way to caricature black people, throughout the book she exaggerates accents and dialects to dehumanize them. This is a recurring theme in early publications of this song. Another early publication of the song comes from Dorothy Scarborough in "On the Trail of negro folk-songs" 1925 who got it from her sister who also learned it on a plantation, in Texas. She writes "This is an authentic slavery-time song" This book, if you can believe it, is remarkably racist and dismissive of black music, even as a more "progressive" songbook of black folk songs.

In 1922, the song's history was documented a bit more extensively by Thomas W. Talley in his book "Negro folk rhymes". He writes that it has "deep roots in black traditional lore". Thomas W. Talley was also just a cool guy in general, this book is one of the first compilations of African American folk songs, and it has been a pioneering book in its field. Even today, this book is still one of the best sources for the history of African American folk songs.

So, this is a black song. This was a black song whose first wave of popularization was through the caricature of black people to be amusing for white folks. Let's move on to its second wave of popularization.

The song was first recorded in 1927 by "Dykes Magic City Trio" (all white band) then about a week later by Fiddlin' John Carson (white performer) then in 1928 by Pope's Arkansas Mountanaineers (all white band) then in 1929 by Carter Brothers and Son (all white band) and then it wasn't really recorded for a while because of the great depression and the war but the times it was recorded, it was by white people. We know this because it was mostly recorded by John Lomax and despite documenting southern folk songs, he almost went out of his way to avoid recording black people singing them. Then, in 1941, it was recorded by Burl Ives (painfully white).also covered by a few white country singers like Adolph hofner bob willis but I think you get the point. It wasn't until later that year that it would be recorded by a black person, performed by josh white in 1944-45, who covered it as a lullaby.

However, it wouldn't be until the 90s, during its 3rd wave of popularization that it became its most grotesque. "cotton eye joe" was recorded and released by Swedish Eurodance band Rednex in 1995 as a, to paraphrase reviews, 'Way to make fun of backwater southerners'. This song became incredibly popular throughout Europe and in the USA as well, charting as a number-one song in several countries, sometimes for weeks. Not only is this song incredibly classist, it is, whether by omission or deliberately, fundamentally racist, adding to the whitewashing of black folk and minstrelsy of black people. The attitude and humor derived from the Swedish version are the same as the version in 1882 when it was a "classic slave song".

So, why is Terry Callier's version important, why talk about it? Terry Callier's version is the first version of the song that I have heard and it is not a comedy. It isn't meant to be funny. It slows the melody down and draws attention to itself. It's almost a ballad, showcasing Joe as a tragic but mysterious hero, maybe a love song. His voice is angelic as well. Terry Callier once again, subverts expectations and creates something beautiful out of a song that has been so whitewashed and appropriated that no one remembers its tragic origins.

Thomas W. Talley

some other versions by black folks Josh white 1944-46 Nina simone 1959 The Ebony Hillbillies 2004 Leon bibb 1962 Ella Jenkins 1960 Josh White Jr 1964 Queen Ida 1985

[hostdoozy]

The horrifying implications of Meat Sweats powers.

Rupert (mainly known as meat sweats) is possibly one of my favourite side-villains within Rottmnt as of this moment. Down his writing and animation, the Gordon Ramsey parody is an absolute delight to watch.

Something about his mannerisms is beyond fascinating to me. He's a double threat, both cunning and robust. I could go on about for hours about this overgrown porky pig characteristic and how he is so much more than the very thing he is parodying.

But I'll spare you that mercy and focus on ONE aspect of his character.

His mutant powers. (read more down below)

In 'Nothing but Truffle' we get a lot of insight into how his abilities function. Using the strange tendrils that make up his arm and hands, he can latch onto his prey and suck out their 'essences'. Temporarily possessing his victim's powers while his victim is either immobilized or die after the process (implied). The key word here is "Temporarily" During the episode, after Mikey is betrayed by the British Meatbag we get this little exchange between the two.

"B-but- i thought you were nice now?" "Oh. that wore off hours ago...and by the way, you play lousy mandoline" This shows us, that once he absorbs his victim's powers- throughout the course of an entire day- they only last for a short period. This shows us, that his mutant form can quickly burn off "essences". why is this horrifying? I'll get into it soon enough, sit tightly. Let's us examine what exactly he IS absorbing.

We see that whenever Rupert is absorbing something- it is always GREEN and you what else is green? Empyrean. the source of yokai power, the ingredient used to create mutants. His mutant form requires Empyrean. What do I mean by "require"? well then. We established that Rupert can quickly burn off Empyrean after absorbing it. now i'd like to point out something to you. Notice how Rupert is often described as "cannibalistic" or "vampiric" by other characters, merch and even concept artwork. Notice how often he hunts, he jumps at any opportunity to catch any prey. See how within the show, there are many instances of him having cages upon cages of mutant/yokai saved for special occasions. Almost like, he NEEDS a constant onslaught of Empyrean not because he enjoys the power that comes with it but rather, out of necessity. It is VERY possible that his Mutant form needs it to survive. Normal food won't simply cut it, He hungers for yokai and mutants alike.

So is that it? seems pretty simple enough, right? AHAHAHAHAHA NO MY DEAR READER, WE ARE NOT DONE YET! you are stuck here with me. I had a shocking revelation, one that seemed rather far-fetch but please bear with me.

Rupert has minimal control of his powers.

When the metal gauntlets come off, Rupert cannot control what his tendrils can absorb. An example of this is featured is once again, in "Nothing but Truffle". The second Mikey pulled Rupert's arm to the weretree, the tendrils began draining it upon contact- against Rupert's will. He can't stop it. This is just one of the many instances of it. We know that Rupert can form "claws" with his tendrils based on this one Ep but this is the only time it happens. Usually, they are untangled instead of interconnected

While this could just be an animation inconsistency- please just. indulge me for a moment. Rupert is known as most dangerous mutant according to Tmnt and there's good reason for this. Despite Ruperts disadvantages, he is capable of working AROUND them. He is dangerous not because of his mutant abilities but for his intelligence. we the viewer don't suspect it because He is capable of making split-second decisions within a fight. Rupert is competent in many others ways that we overlook and mislead into thinking he's in full control of his powers. (Idk if he's autistic but he'd be a master at masking lol)

So NOW why is this horrifying?

Keep in mind. Rupert was a human- a shitty one but still human regardless. His mutation wasn't by choice. His cannibalism wasn't a choice. Imagine, you are at the height of your career and in the middle of your show- in front of an entire audience- you suddenly feel a pinch. everything is painful. Your body contorts into a horrific pigish amalgamation in a matter of minutes. The world has its eyes on you. people are watching. All you see is RED.

You've become a monster.

Once the red is gone. All that is left is the hunger. You are reduced to nothing more than a creature lurking within the shadows. A wall is put between you and the remaining semblance of your old life. Everything you work for, Gone. Left to rot away.

No matter how many scraps you pull out of NYC's trash piles. You are still hungry. This disgusting form of yours demands more. The only thing you can do to survive. is give in. indulge. you didn't just become a monster. you ARE the monster.

Whether or not Rupert was deserving of this faith is up in the air. We know that he's always been an Asshole. (both Mikey and himself go on to confirm this)

This isn't meant to suddenly paint Rupert in a sympathetic light nor be an attempt to "redeem" his actions. Far from it. This is meant to further insight into him as a villain and why he acts the way he does. Rupert still values his humanity. Rupert resorts to extreme measures to ensure his own comfortability and his legacy (i.e his restaurant) but thats a topic for another day.

To finally conclude this tangent. While Rupert is scummy sod, the situation he's forced into is unsettling when you sit down and think about it. If anything. he might have become a bigger asshole due to his mutation. (now excuse me- im going step inside this man's food truck and kiss him)