#me learning I can draw about history of history is my hyper fixation (it always is) is now your guys’ problem

[bleeding-seraphic]

A Guide To Alexander’s Favorite Things ;)

[andthisisdia]

🫧Hi🫧

Name: call me Dia💎

Age: I was born in 2002 and I'm too lazy to update my age every year💅

Nationality: Italian (English is not my first language so I might make some grammatical errors)

🏳️‍🌈: I'm a bisexual and demisexual/demiromantic girl (I use she/her pronouns)

MBTI: ENTJ (Don't stereotype me. I'm just really into doing things right and I like to have a plan for everything. I always try to find a solution to people's problems)

Something about me: I'm autistic and borderline 🪐 and I'm very extroverted, I like to socialize and meet new people. So if we have any interests in common, feel free to write to me🌌 (Read the continuation to find out more about me and what I post, it's important. Thank you)

(I made this edit using picsart stickers that represent my interests and something about me)

🎮Favorite video games:

•League of Legends (I play on the European server)

•Wildrift

•Valorant (I don't play it that much because I'm not very good)

•Overwatch

•Team Fortress 2 (my hyper fixation, I need to talk to other tf2 fans. I'm going crazy, I don't know who to talk to about it, I'm afraid of appearing boring to my friends who aren't fans😭😭😭)

•Life is strange (this game made me realize I'm not straight)

•Detroit Become Human

•Danganronpa (I discovered this thanks to tik tok during the pandemic. It was very trendy at the time)

•The last of us

•The Sims 3/4 (I never had the chance to play the previous ones)

🍿My favorite TV series are:

•Shameless

•Love, Death & Robots

•Bojack Horseman

•Arcane

•She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

•Ever After High

🎼Singers I like:

•Madison Beer

•Mitski

•Ariana Grande

•Ashnikko

•Kali Uchis

•Girl in Red

•Marina and the diamonds

•KDA ("Akali that girl, 'kali go grr 'Kali don't stop, 'kali don't skrt 'Kali got a job, 'kali go to work 뜨거워 언제나 don't get burnt" 🗣🗣🗣)

•Gorillaz

•Queen

•Molchat Doma

•Arctic Monkeys

•Mother Mother

•Jack Stauber

•Cavetown

•TV girl

•Bo Burnham

I actually listen to a lot of artists but I don't remember them all c:

🫧Things I like:

•Lost media

•Liminal space

•Dreamcore

•Nostalgiacore

•History of cinema (especially animated films)

•Psychology (and all other branches of this science. I also love anthropology and sociology)

•Travel and discover new places

•Everything that has to do with creativity (Drawing, writing stories and fanfiction, creating things like accessories for your clothes and such very cute things. I really admire people who can repaint dolls)

•Having fun (going out with my friends, watching films - if they're trashy films it's even better -, sending each other memes and tik tok videos and things like that)

🪷Hobby:

•Cosplay (Especially cosplaying my comfort characters)

•Drawing (I haven't drawn seriously since 2020. I'm waiting for inspiration)

•Collecting dolls (I love Monster High, Ever After High, Rainbow High and L.O.L O.M.G. I also collect Funko pops and figures from other brands. I also have many books and comics -which I have to finish reading because there are too many-)🧸

•Roleplay (Doing roleplay with me means that I have already organized the whole plot. But I also listen to the other person's ideas)

•Find out about the topics that interest me (Most of the time they have to do with culture. I'm a very curious person and I love to inform myself)

💿What I post on Tumblr:

•Things about my fandom

•Positivity (Especially mental health or pride posts about being a member of the LGBT community. Be yourself🌈Be unique)

•Aesthetics

•Vent

•My posts are tagged "Dia's post"

🦦Other random things:

•My favorite musicals are Heathers and Ride The Cyclone (the name of my blog is a mix between two of these songs)

•I'm terrible with numbers and sometimes I read the wrong words (I have a learning disability -be patient-)

•In my blog there are posts about Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss BUT IT'S NOT A SPECIAL INTEREST OF MINE. I recognize that they are two series with a lot of plot holes and nonsense. But it still reminds me of time spent with my friends. I actually like hearing people analyze and criticize it. I'm fond of the character of Vaggie and I like the ship between Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb but as I wrote before: it's no longer a special interest of mine. I am neutral towards them

•I'm an atheist

•I am very interested in the meaning (and world) of dreams

‼️ Sometimes I also reposted something related to when I feel down. Unfortunately I have a lot of trauma but I'm trying to move forward and get better‼️

🔞I'm a girl from 2002 so I have young adult maturity‼️I want to talk to people my own age. You can follow me if you like my "aesthetic fandom stuff" but i would like to talk to people my age🔞

🧜‍♀️Comfort characters:

•Jinx (League of legends/Arcane. She is my main and for certain things I see myself in her)

•Seraphine (League of Legends. didn't like her at first but I love her gameplay. And I think she has the best skins -along with Jinx, of course-)

•Evelynn (League of Legends. She's a Goddess)

•Chloe Price (Life is strange. She made me understand that I like women too. I love this punk)

•Sunset Shimmer (Equestria Girls. She is one of the few ENTJs to be a positive character. I really like how her character has evolved)

•Reagan Ridley (Inside Job. We are very similar in certain things)

•Entrapta (She ra. I love this chaotic neutral autistic scientist princess. Again, I see myself in her)

•Kotori Minami (Love Live! When I was in middle school this was my favorite anime)

•Dia Kurosawa (Love Live! Sunshine. Love Live is an anime that accompanied me as I grew up. I'm very fond of it)

❕️I'm looking for young adult people like me (young adult means being over 18 and under 30). I have no problem with NSFW (I prefer artistic nudity) and I have no problem with swearing. I have a certain maturity so I want to interact with people like that.❕️

‼️ This is my safe space🗣 SO DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME IF YOU ARE: racist, homophobic, ableist, transphobic and against the LGBT community, do not interact if you are a pedophile and if you harm animals.Don't fetishize queer people. We are people, not nsfw categories. And don't romanticize the Mafia. Be kind and open-minded. Don't interact if you are against feminism (which I remind you, means gender equality), don't interact if you are people with ideas of hatred and discrimination. No ignorant people about mental health or what is happening in the world, because we are in 2024 and we need to have a minimum of culture. If you think abortion is murder, I would say you can also go elsewhere because I support women's rights and human rights in general. In general, don't interact if you are a person with bad ideas (that kind of bad ideas. Go away)‼️

🌟Talk to me if you are a normal person (and if you're nice and send funny memes. Or if you want to talk about some fandom in common or something. We can also play some video games together or talk about philosophical things like "what's the point of life?" or things like "do aliens exist?")🌟

[animationstoriestochill]

Introduction

Hello! Welcome to Stories of Animation! A place where you will learn stories that involve the animation industry whether it's historical or personal, this place is for any animation fan out there that's interested in a bit of history. I am your host for this blog, Teresa (they/them) and I'm a self certified artist that is currently studying animation. So chill back, relax and enjoy the vlog.

So... Why animation?

Why did I choose to study animation? A question probably non of you asked but I will tell you anyways ahem: So a long long time ago (not really it was 2007) I was a little child that spend way too much time watching a movie and that movie that I watched for way too long was 101 Dalmatians. I am pretty sure that it was the first animated movie I watched ever and to this day is my favorite movie of all time. I don't remember much of that time (cause I was a baby, quite literally) but I do remember that I loved that movie so much that I begged my mother for over a decade to get a Dalmatian, I would dress as Cruela for 3 years straight and got sad when that outfit didn't fit me anymore and would constantly draw the dogs of the movie. I would definitely consider this the earliest inspiration I had as a child, it's what inspired me to draw and it's a film that will always have a special place in my heart.

So flash forward to the year 2020, the year where people got locked inside their house and stopped seeing the sunlight for over two years. Like many people, one of the ways I spend most of my time in this era was watching TV shows, mostly animated shows because I am not a fan of reality tv, but of all the shows I watched there is one show that out stood from everything else, the owl house.

This show single handedly changed my life. I started watching this show in the hiatus between season 1 and season 2 because of a tweet that showed up on my timeline one day and ever since then the show took over me, it became a hyper fixation but it wasn't until the episode "Eda's Requiem" aired that the show became way more than it already was to me.

I would watch most show on owlclub.net when the episodes aired and after finishing the episode I froze, the scene where Eda and Rain play together, the animation in that part, the emotional moment for those two characters, the way the music and the voice acting made you feel the pain Eda was feeling. That moment made me stop and think "Wow, I wish I could do that" and then it hit me. I grew up watching a lot of cartoons and games, indulging in fantastical worlds because my childhood was not the best and always thanked the shows I watched because of how much it meant to me, so why couldn't I do the same. People have their own unique world in their lives, their own stories to tell, and those stories influence the people around us and can change the world for many. Bringing a story to life whether mine or not, could be the thing that changes a person's life just like how this shows changed mine.

And that brings me to the franchise that has the crown for being my biggest inspiration, Pokemon.

If I were to talk about how much Pokemon influenced me, I would probably take hours talking about it and honestly it would probably deserve it's own essay but in short Pokemon is to this day my special interest, every single thing the saga has inspired me to work on an artistic industry.

Yes, 101 Dalmatians is what inspired me to start drawing but Pokemon is what inspired me to create, it's whats always inspired me to write stories, design characters, think of scenarios whether canon or not. Pokemon single handedly made me realize just how much a story can affect and inspire others, how a community that's constantly growing and changing leads to more and more creative things that go beyond what they started as and non of it would be posible if it wasn't for the team in charge of bringing the Pokemon to life, the animation team.

From the battle of Ash against Arlan, the Pokemon generations shorts that gave different story points a new fresh air by bringing to life such important moments beyond the gameplay , the games themselves using detailed cutscenes during the most cardiac moments to truly make you feel the moment in the story, and even simple things like the Pokemon idles in Black and White or the animations of the Pokemon when you interact with them or when they interact with other things. All of those moments hold a special place within me and is the proof that anything can be bring to life, you just need your imagination and a paper to do so. Thank you for reading, until next time.

[mosesdumpin]

I really wanted to be a misanthropic little shit. I tried to be a cynic. None of it could last very long. I can't assume the world has fallen ill to evil and the default stance of humanity is malice. I wanted to think like this because I have been mistreated, unloved, damaged, and victimized. I was abandoned and felt a gaping maw where I was told love would be. Telling my stories, explaining my emotions, and sharing my history should enable my turn into heavy-lidded nihilism. But I just love humans so fucking much.

In fact, one of the primary overwhelming and positive emotions I have felt lately have been a deep appreciation of humanity as a whole. I want to be clear, I am not claiming this as a version of inherent compassion or empathy. It is the result of the lack of socialization, hyper-fixations, and nosiness. I was/am a know-it-all little shithead whose entire ego is wrapped up in what I know or do not know. And a subject that requires a steady, risky, years-long, and ongoing study in order to even vaguely understand is Other People. From social behaviors to being introspectively aware its not something you learn from articles or science journals. Sure, you can get the gist or memorize the outline of it all, but the reason this subject (other humans) is so difficult is because, like a rudimentary mirror of quantum mechanics, it is fundamentally altered at every step through the sheer existence of yourself. Knowing yourself should be easy, but it is not for the same reason its difficult to know others. Yourself is fundamentally altered at every step through the sheer existence of literally anyone else. Our identities and selves are feedback loops who are constantly trying to give structure to a dynamic system unfathomably larger than ourselves - like how we choose to draw a wave in the ocean. I sometimes go on a kick watching dance crews and choreography. This is happening more since I got into XG since I find their performance captivating and tends to trigger this urge. This usually always ends in me sobbing; rocking back and forth with the famously ugly cry face as if I've lost a loved one. In reality, I'm overwhelmed with awe and joy at how fundamentally Human dancing and music is. It isn't so much like crying at something beautiful as it is succumbing to the sheer weight of something too huge for me to ever understand. That isn't to say it isn't a GOOD emotion. Its one of my favorite emotions. I know we like to do the whole "blue speck in an infinite universe" thing but to me its like being a flea on a rat musing about the unfathomable scale of New York City when we can only barely conceptualize the rat we are standing on. Humanity taking the accidentally evolved (redundant phrasing, just assume I mean it for emphasis) survival trait of pattern recognition and remixing it with digital (as in, fingers and such) dexterity to create music and THEN remix it again within the boundaries of the bodily dexterity/flexibility we lost when becoming bipedal... while syncing the best of what we have gained with what we have lost to express something we perceive as infinite - cognition and emotion. Above all, since pre-history and pre-pre-history, likely since our pattern seeking behaviors honed to its slightest edge, we did this despite it offering only token or deeply indirect assistance to survival or production. You can argue its a social behavior (which is true) and helps all of our social ties in some way but honestly, have you danced alone before? Have you felt that joy, that eruption of movement to music or excitement? Have you felt joy or peace when you've hit the right note at the right time when you aren't even trying to play a specific song or piece? Sure, this is social, our brains reward us for refining a social behavior blah blah. Honestly I think every time we sing, play a song, create music, dance, tap our feet, bang our heads, move in sync, shake, jump, exult, and CREATE we are riding the resonance of humanity like the surface tension of a rock being skipped across a vast, unimaginable ocean of ourself. This idea is my Eldritch God, my Seraphim, my Infinitely Expanding Universe, and the Face of God. I cower before the knowledge of how small and weak I am compared to it, but I can exult that I am an aspect of it, like a single pixel in a digital photo whose dimensions are so large I can only define it as infinity.

[mcrmadness]

11, 20 and 69 for the writing asks?

Fanfic writer ask game.

Thanks! ^^

11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

The history of cars. Years ago I was going to write a Titanic AU (the cruiser, not the movie) about one of my previous fandoms, with a friend, and we both did write a few chapters of that but it didn't really take off. So a few years later (the early 2010s?) I was going to use that idea again and write it about my current fandom and OTP instead, and change the language into English. This time, either, I did not really get anywhere with the idea BUT I did some research about Germany's history in 1912 and if cars had already been invented. Still to this day I remember that cars were invented somewhere before 1910.

What comes to research in general, I don't exactly worry about it, but I do love staying loyal to reality so I do lots of research if I feel that I need that in order to continue. Mostly my research is just band facts, but sometimes I research things like what was typical for e.g. the 90s, even tho I usually remember enough to use my own memories as facts.

---

20. what is your favorite trope to write?

The combination of fluff and (emotional) hurt/comfort, I guess. The latter is usually that something from outside is hurting X or Y, and then the other one is there to support and comfort them. And THIS I have been able to track down to my own childhood/teenage traumas, when I was bullied in school and had no friends and all I ever wanted was to just experience someone simply asking me "Are you okay?" But no one of my peers ever did.

So I kinda got stuck to that mental state of a teenager's moods and emotions. And today I'm too "damaged" to ask for reassurance directly myself (because I can't trust it being genuine if I have to ask for it), so I just keep writing moody scenes with the kind of follow-up I wish I could have experiences back in the day (and sometimes wish would still happen, just the simple "are you okay?", you know...), and rinse and repeat. I'm literally just writing the same EMOTIONS over and over again, just in different kind of settings. It reminds me of when I was a kid and got fixated on some topic and kept redrawing the thing over and over again, e.g. the predecessor for my comics where I'd draw the same story of some fool dino using another dino as a horse, went to a competition without helmet or anything, fell into a very deep water obstacle and ended up watching the competition from TV at home while sitting on a wheel chair with his whole body wrapped in cast.

Writing these is literally like therapy for me but I don't think I'm actually even getting anywhere. Just using it to live through scenarios I needed as a kid or teenager but never experienced and now it's too late as 1. I'm not longer a teenager and 2. I don't let anyone too close to me anymore (not even emotionally, and physical touch especially is out of the picture).

---

69. how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

Yes. I'm hyper-empathic so I always feel what the characters feel. That's also fun because that way I can also go through emotions I have never experienced myself in person. But at the same time: I don't need to be in a certain mood in order to write about some mood, but also writing about a certain mood won't affect my own mood. It's pretty interesting, because I often hear that people even choose their music according to their mood, but I never have that connection with the music I listen to either (apart from maybe like one album that also works as my anger music).

I'm not sure what does "how do you write emotional scenes" mean... I usually find darker themes easier to write and describe. When I'm trying to write positive, I always feel that it lacks something and feels shallow and... yeah, I don't know what it is, but it always feels a bit clumsy - unlike darker moods. With those I'm at my best and I feel that I can get so much emotion in those! I don't know if they're as pleasant to read as what they are to write, but again I have to say that usually such mood in my text has nothing to do with my own mood. I might be on a really good mood or hyperactive etc. and still write some of the most depressing shit ever. It's just the mood of the text and the characters, not mine.

[shipsforeveryone]

XL Ship For Anon

Their Request - 

Hi! Can I request a ship for all of your fandoms. Males only please!

Oh and for the scenario - First Fight. For TVD?

I am a tall, curvy straight female with blonde hair and blue-green eyes.

I am introverted, intellectual, I have a bunch of interests and hobbies, which I tend to hyper fixate on. I am also a bit of a jack of all trades as I like to learn/teach myself how to do a wide variety of things.

I have a very idiosyncratic point of view, I'm bookish and very interested in history. I have a knack for accurately predicting the likelihood of the future. I tend to test people to see if I can trust them a lot but then I become a friend for life. Literally, a ride or die. I have hidden dimensions and intensity and they're hidden because I'm pretty withdrawn. Wanting to watch people from afar to see if I can even poke my head out of my shell around them.

I tend to act arrogant, cryptic, or cynical when afraid. I can be diplomatic and say things without saying them. I am defiant/rebellious towards authority and habitually find counterexamples to whatever others assert. Despite this attitude, I'm incredibly loyal, hardworking, ambitious, and very idealistic.

I struggle with ADHD, social anxiety, and paranoia. I can brood over injustices or entertain conspiracy theories. I am a bigger fan of sneaky vengeance over outright confrontation. I can be passive-aggressive and self-attacking. I love all animals though I never want to personally own a dog, due to how needy and loud they are. I'm more of a cat or reptile person.

I like to record my thoughts out loud and later organize them.

I'm also currently fighting the urge to delete this because I think I sound very full of myself in this lol

Pretty please and thank you! Also sorry this was so long.

My Response

No worries, babe! You don’t sound full of yourself at all. I love the fact that you didn’t beat around the bush about describing yourself!

Avatar: The Last Airbender 

OTP - Zuko. He would love your idiosyncratic point of view and how insightful you are. And would often come to your for advice.

BrOTP - Aang

NOTP - Sokka

Bright

OTP - Nick Jakoby

BrOTP - Tikka

NOTP - Daryl Ward

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

OTP - Rupert Giles. You have quite a bit in common, and you may even end up arguing the uses of technology while admiring books as much as he does.

BrOTP - Daniel “Oz” Osbourne

NOTP - Buffy Summers

Doctor Who

OTP - The 10th Doctor. He’d gently coax you out of your shell. And he’d take you anywhere in time or space that you want to go. If you don’t outright say where/when you would like to go then he’ll pick up on it by listening to your latest interests. 

BrOTP - Is it cheating to say the 12th Doctor? Oh well. I think you would be partners in crime all the way.

NOTP - Rose Tyler

Dragon Age

OTP - Solas. There’s so much in common and I think you’d probably be the best option to convince him to change his plans. 

BrOTP - Merrill.

NOTP - Cassandra.

Fast and Furious franchise

OTP - Tej Parker

BrOTP - Deckard Shaw

NOTP - Luke Hobbs

Game of Thrones

OTP - Tyrion Lannister. Tyrion would tease you to draw you out of your introverted shell. He'd be very interested in your hobbies, interests and your knack for predicting the future. He'd admire your wide skill set, loyalty, defiant attitude and how hardworking you are. He’d often suggest books to you and vice versa. 

BrOTP - Jon Snow

NOTP - Daenerys Targaryen

Golden Girls

OTP - Dorothy. 

BrOTP - Rose

NOTP - Sophia

Hannibal

OTP - Will Graham.

BrOTP - Alana Bloom.

NOTP -  Jack Crawford

Harry Potter

OTP - Severus Snape. Your mind, skill set and attitude would all appeal to him very much.

BrOTP - Luna Lovegood

NOTP - Ron Weasley

Inglourious Basterds

OTP - Hugo Stiglitz

BrOTP - Donny Donowitz

NOTP - Aldo Raine

John Wick

OTP - John Wick

BrOTP - Marcus

NOTP - Winston

Jurassic Park franchise

OTP - Dr. Ian Malcolm

BrOTP - Dr. Ellie Sattler

NOTP - Dr. Sarah Harding

Kingsman

OTP - Merlin

BrOTP - Harry Hart / Galahad

NOTP - Jack Daniels / Whiskey

Legend of Korra

OTP - Mako

BrOTP - Asami Sato

NOTP - Tahno

Marvel 

OTP - Bucky Barnes

BrOTP - Loki

NOTP - Natasha Romanoff

Mayans MC

OTP - Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes.

BrOTP - Johnny “Coco” Cruz

NOTP - Emily Thomas-Galindo

NCIS

OTP - Timothy McGee

BrOTP - Abby Sciuto

NOTP - Tony DiNozzo

New Girl

OTP - Nick Miller

BrOTP - Winston Saint-Marie Schmidt

NOTP - Julia Cleary

Once Upon A Time

OTP - Killian Jones / Captain Hook

BrOTP - Regina Mills

NOTP - Mary Margaret Blanchard / Snow White

Parks and Recreation

OTP - Ben Wyatt

BrOTP - April Ludgate

NOTP - Jean Ralphio Saperstein

Peaky Blinders

OTP - Tommy Shelby

BrOTP - Alfie Solomons

NOTP - Ada Thorne

Pokemon

OTP - Brock

BrOTP - Bulbasaur Ash Ketchum

NOTP - Jessie

Rick and Morty

OTP - Rick Sanchez

BrOTP - Beth Smith

NOTP - Jerry Smith. 

Schitt’s Creek

OTP - David Rose

BrOTP - Ronnie Lee

NOTP - Moira Rose

Sherlock (BBC)

OTP - Sherlock Holmes. He'd adore your mind and find your skill set useful. Sherlock would love your defiance of authority and ambition. Though you'd butt heads every now and then ultimately your differences would make you an even better match. You'd both bring out each other's emotions more and understand each other better than anyone else ever could.

BrOTP - Mycroft Holmes. I know, very surprising. But like with Sherlock there’s a lot in common and a lot different. So you’d frequently argue But in the end you’d have the common goal of looking out for Sherlock to make you both closer.

NOTP - Jim Moriarty.

Sons of Anarchy

OTP - Jackson “Jax” Teller.

BrOTP - Bobby Munson

NOTP - Tara Knowles

Star Wars Prequels

OTP - Obi-Wan Kenobi

BrOTP - Qui-Gon Jinn

NOTP - Anakin Skywalker

Star Wars Original Trilogy

OTP - Luke Skywalker

BrOTP - R2D2

NOTP - Han Solo

Stranger Things

OTP - Jim Hopper. I think Hopper would admire you for testing people so thoroughly to see if you can trust them. And he’d really love how loyal you are to the people you do trust.

BrOTP - Alexei. Here me out, the two of you seem to have a bit in common. First and foremost your intelligence. And I think you’d make Hopper quit being such an ass to Alexei.

NOTP - Nancy Wheeler

Supernatural

OTP - Sam Winchester. Okay I can just see you researching together. Staying up all night in the Bunker’s library poring over every single book.

BrOTP - Charlie Bradbury. Do I need to say anything more than nerd power?

NOTP - Mary Winchester.

Teen Wolf

OTP - Chris Argent

BrOTP - Stiles Stilinski

NOTP - Lydia Martin

That 70’s Show

OTP - Eric Forman.

BrOTP - Donna Pinciotti

NOTP - Jackie Burkhardt

The Expendables

OTP - Lee Christmas

BrOTP - Barney Ross

NOTP - Mr. Church

The Hobbit

OTP - Thorin Oakenshield. Thorin would admire your wide skill set and your ambition to learn how to do so many things. He'd adore your loyalty and knack for diplomacy. 

BrOTP - Fili Durin.

NOTP - Thranduil

The Lord of the Rings

OTP - Faramir. 

BrOTP - Samwise Gamgee

NOTP - Denethor

The Vampire Diaries & The Originals

OTP - Elijah Mikaelson. I think that Elijah would adore your intelligence and would encourage your interests and hobbies. If you want to know anything about history? He'd be more than happy to discuss his own experiences with you. He'd often get your opinion on a course of action before doing it, due to your with and ability of predicting the possible outcomes. He'd love your original, no pun intended, point of view. And though he loves your tenacity, your ambition, your idealistic nature and your loyalty, sometimes it can frustrate him when he thinks certain people who have your loyalty don't deserve it. Or at least not at the intensity that you give it. 

First Fight - Your first fight would probably have to do with your friendship and loyalty towards Klaus. While sometimes he admires it, he often wishes that you weren’t so loyal to his brother. Thinking he isn’t always deserving of it. Afterwards you’d both go in different rooms to brood until ready to make up.

BrOTP - Niklaus Mikaelson. Klaus would admire your intelligence, ambition, hard working and even defiant attitude. Your skills and ability to think differently from everyone else. He would also come to you for advice though he wouldn’t always adhere it. Though what Klaus would love most of all is your loyalty. Especially after he made it through all your tests and found himself on the receiving end of your loyalty. And he would feel guilty when your loyalty and friendship with him would cause a rift in your relationship with his brother. 

NOTP - Damon Salvatore. Damon is impulsive and has his own way of testing the loyalty  of those around him. Though his form of testing is more of him doing things that makes them less loyal and trusting of him. He’d probably end up trying to test and strain your loyalty towards Elijah and Klaus. Which would infuriate you. And he would fail which would infuriate him.

The Walking Dead

OTP - Negan.

BrOTP - Carl Grimes. In an AU where Rick’s Group became saviors instead of finding Alexandria. I think Carl would have become Negna’s protege and may have even softened him up.

NOTP - Rick Grimes.

The Witcher (show)

OTP - Geralt of Rivia

BrOTP - Yennefer of Vengerberg

NOTP - Queen Calanthe

True Blood

OTP - Eric Northman

BrOTP - Bill Compton

NOTP - Sam Merlotte

Vikings

OTP - Ragnar Lothbrok

BrOTP - Ivar the Boneless

NOTP - Björn Ironside

WWE (kayfabe personas)

OTP - Roman Reigns

BrOTP - Finn Balor

NOTP - Chris Jericho

[early-sxnsets]

Unseen

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343617/chapters/41107136

Chapter 5/11 of Of Wealth and Leisure

Word Count: 3145

Summary: A horseback ride through the countryside results in an unsettling outcome. (CW: very mild violence; described from an outside POV where the person only hears it).

“Do you always take this long to saddle a horse?” His voice reads entirely of mockery and his face is full of amusement, raking his eyes up and down my body as I toss the saddle attop my mare. Of course, he was ready minutes ago; he even prepared and packed away our lunches in the saddle bag. All that’s left for him is settling himself on the horse itself.

I shoot a mildly malicious glare over towards him, strands of curls falling into my eyes as I attempt to look at him teasingly. Ever since my arrival to the manor, I haven’t been keeping my hair as impeccably short. While at home, The Mage advises clean and short haircuts, as to avoid snagging. Therefore, it feels as though I’m involved in a mild act of rebellion by allowing the length of my hair to grow uncharacteristically longer. I can hold it in handfuls, and tug full curls around my fingers, too. It’s quite satisfactory to wipe it away from my eyes--it gives me a sense of unparalleled control. At times, I fear that Mr. Pitch will tempt a pull at it as we fight like schoolboys.

At this moment, though, our argumentative nature has simmered to a lukewarm back-and-forth. Especially here in our current situation, as we finish gathering everything necessary for a day’s ride through the country, do we only keep to a bicker.

At last, the rain has cleared. It felt endless, continuing on for days and days until September hit. Once it finally cleared, Mr. Pitch made the decision to tell me that he was finally ready to show me along the land. To my surprise, he took further initiative into the situation than I had and actually did get Cook Pritchard to pack that lunch.

I may owe this man my life if he continues to bring me food.

We settle ourselves upon our horses and I tip my hat at Ebb. She's smiling from beside the stable doors, giving us a quick wave off as we begin our journey onto a trail leading from their property.

Baz, of course, critiques my riding abilities as we go along.

“It’s a wonder you don’t lead,” he quips. “How long have you even been riding?”

I hesitate with my answer, knowing it’s a tad revealing. Most wealthy children learn at such a young age. “Five years,” I answer truthfully, eyes drawing down to the reins in my hands.

He sends me a look of curiosity, but as I don’t return his questioning gaze, he drops the subject entirely. “Why do you wish to take the trails at all? If you’re not a regular rider, I don’t see why it’s so appealing.”

“I wish to see the lands from the inside, not just the observational fields around it.” My attention lifts back to the world around me, eyes following the hanging branches and lush greenlife around me. “It’s nearly like a fairy tale. I’m shocked that you don’t explore it more often.”

He shrugs casually, a movement I cannot say I’ve ever witnessed him do. In fact, I’m the only person who seems to shrug as so within the household. I consider mocking him for doing so, but then again, it would be self-depreciative in the process.

I decide against it.

“You don’t agree?”

“It isn’t that I disagree. On the contrary, I do think that this land is quite magical, but I have my reasons to not explore it as often.” He pauses before finishing off his thought, biting in his lip and seeming to contemplate his following statement before allowing it out. “I fear what could be inside of it. The unknown, id I may.”

I laugh unexpectedly, then silence myself as quickly as I release the laughter. “You cannot possibly be fearful of the woods, Mr. Pitch. There’s only animals and insects to be afraid of; nothing else.”

He shifts in his saddle, and I watch as his hands grip tighter around the reins. “There’s plenty to fear,” he defends. “There’s always the possibility of people hiding in woods, or creatures we’re unaware of. I never underestimate what I could face.”

My head turns as I stare at him, eyes blinking slowly as it processes that he’s not making a joke, but rather sharing his actual thoughts. I would laugh again, but it’s not quite humorous anymore. It’s rather questionable, and concerning myself over what experiences he’s had that would lead to such superstition feels as though it would unpack more than I believe either of us are ready for.

The silence stretches out, and the only sound between us is the ground underneath both of our horses’ hooves. He seems to focus in on the world in front of us, shocking me into the observation of how hyper-aware he is in this environment. Overly reliant on surroundings and his senses, Mr. Pitch carries the unquestionable air of a man being hunted. At times, I nearly itch in ill-ease of his actions. Others, I find myself glancing out into the wood in silly fear that there would be something, but I only flicker my eyes aside to calm myself with the steadily expected stream of green.

His head partially trails, following the life around us and seeming fixated on something nearby. Clearly, he’s lost in his thoughts and finding something to focus on; a furthered part of his anxieties towards the forest and all that it holds.

I clear my throat, snapping him back into reality as I insert my voice to remind him that I'm here as well. “Care to tell me a bit about the land? What’s the history?”

He blinks a few times before finding his words again. Once he starts, he doesn’t quite stop, rambling endlessly about how long his family’s been there and the history behind it. He’s obviously quite prideful in the the air of his name; those who came before him, and who may be ahead of him. Although, it’s clear that he has a difficult time with the present. Perhaps there’s aspects of that that should be discussed.

I don’t push for any aspects of his life. I shouldn’t; he’s still got a barrier wall between himself and the rest of the outside world, not letting us into his fortress of a mind. I wonder if it’ll ever crumble.

After a point, we find a cliffed clearing overlooking the land around us. It sprawls out, showing a full view of where the rolling hills touch the sky and sink deep back into the ground. It’s absolutely breathtaking.

We dismount, spreading out a blanket and taking a seat with a decent distance between each other as he unpacks the food. I dig into it shamelessly, trying to time myself as I stuff the meal down into my mouth.

I feel his eyes on me, making me squirm slightly in my spot as I stare back. Trying to mock him, I raise an eyebrow much like he would. He makes it seem quite easier than it is; I raise both of mine at him instead. “Is there an issue?”

“You always eat so quickly,” he observes plainly, staring at me. “Any particular reason why you eat so quickly?”

His words make me bristle, growing defensive within seconds. It’s part of me that I’d rather keep hidden; parts that spread rumors, but never get confirmed. Where I’m from. How The Mage keeps me. “It’s easiest that way,” I shrug, looking out over the land as I take another mouthful of my sandwich. I make a mental note to thank Cook Pritchard for the extra serving. “If I eat a lot at once, I can be more productive with my time and get to my next task faster.”

He chews slowly, watching my movements as he analyzes what I’ve said.

I’m not quite expecting his reaction. “I think you’re lying.”

“Pardon me?” I stare at him, expression reading exasperated but body filled with dread. Of course I’m lying. I would rather eat the rock we’re sitting on than tell the truth about my life to my arch nemesis (although, I’m hesitant to call him such now). But, despite my best efforts, he read clearly through my efforts in disengaging the conversation beforehand.

“You and I know quite well that you don’t do anything that would be considered productive,” he says, looking bored for a moment before his face breaks into a grin, telling me that he’s simply mocking me again. I feel myself exhale.

I finish my sandwich and dust off my hands on the cloth we’re sitting upon. “Yes, well, I believe in fast eating to save time,” I say once I swallow, throwing him a look of annoyance. “Unlike some of us who eat as if they own time itself.”

“I enjoy savoring my food.” He lifts his nose snootily, scrunching his eyes and shaking his head condescendingly. “Life should be enjoyed, not rushed through. Luxury is something we can afford.”

The cloth beneath me drags a little as I turn on my hip, facing him with an elbow propping me. “Yes, well,” I begin, voice dropping to a private murmur. “While I can afford luxuries, it’s useless to me to sit around and mindlessly chew for hours. I’d much rather spend such time on other luxuries--more interesting luxuries.” I see his face flush with my words, slowing down his movements to observe my speaking. Between us, his hand drops and rests out in the open. I briefly consider taking it into my own before realizing how odd of an idea it is.

He makes a show of swallowing the rest of his meal, head facing me as his hands prop him up. “I’m allowed my equal luxuries.”

“And what are those?”

To that he laughs, face turning sour towards me. “What, are you saying that you don’t witness me doing anything of my interest within your months living in my home?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head in the slightest. “I’m stating that your so called equal luxuries are unknown. I’ve seen you read, and heard you play your violin, but I barely consider those equal luxuries to other privileges you and I hold.”

As if it were a challenge, he turns his head up as he grows a smirk. “Alright then, Snow. Fair enough. How about I exercise our luxuries and take us out to a play. I’d fancy one this Friday, in fact. We should take a carriage into town.”

My face mirrors his, a smile spreading across my cheeks as I nod. “Why just one? We should go spend a weekend in London and see various shows.”

He grows pinker as he laughs, a brilliant red complementing his soft brown skin. “I’ll take such an offer, Snow. It sounds like a luxurious enough investment of time.” We smile at each other, unsure of whether it’s genuine or an outrageously misunderstood argument turned competition. It’s easiest to go with it anyway, unquestioned as to what the intentions of it are.

I begin to consider what that weekend would entail; a hotel stay, perhaps a shared room. Dinners together. Intimate, city outings. It would be a lie to say that it isn’t absolutely appealing...

With that turn of conversation, though, we wordlessly agree to stand and pack up our picnic. After it’s set away, Mr. Pitch turns to me and exhales. “If you don’t mind me, I’m going to take a quick stop in the woods to take care of business. Will you watch the horses?”

“Of course,” I say mindlessly, still somewhat enthralled with the overlooking view to care to look at him. “Should it only be a second?”

“Yes, yes. It’ll be a snap.”

I hear the crunching of the ground behind me; twigs snapping and leaves rustling, and it grows further with time. It takes an unexpected extra few seconds before I hear startling noises; further rustling of leaves, muffled shouts, and the kicking of underbush. In a rush, I glance to my horse and grab the sword I’d brought (Mr. Pitch had mocked me earlier for my decision to bring it, it’s clear it was the right choice) before charging into the unmarked path within the trees.

The shouts grow louder before I hear a yelp of clear “Help!” in Mr. Pitch’s voice. It draws me in, rushing inwards and slicing anything that gets in my way. When I find him, he’s laying panting and injured on the ground. He hisses in pain, gripping his leg as rustling of the trees quickly sounds as if it’s further and further.

Dropping to my knees, my hands search his body to find injury, which doesn’t seem to be anywhere but his leg (except for his roughed-up shirt and trousers). “Good God, man, what happened?!”

“What do you think happened?!” He snaps before groaning in agonizing pain. “I-I was attacked; I didn’t see who, but he came from behind a-and…” His eyes dart around in a panic, leg still in his grip. While I’m the furthest thing from a doctor, it’s clear that the injury lays deeper than skin.

I shakily stand him up, having him lean entirely on me as my eyes dart around. “Should I look for him?”

“No, dear God, no,” he cries, arms wrapped around me tightly. “Don’t be a tit--get me home, damn you.”

We’re stumbling and completely uncoordinated, but I manage my way through the woods and back to the horses, who seem a bit spooked but still present. I hoist him up onto my horse and climb on in front of him, which leads to him wrapping his arms around my waist without being provoked to. While I’d hate to admit this given our particular situation, but it makes my skin prickle at the sensation of being held.

I snap for the horse to break into a gallop, and luckily Mr. Pitch’s mare has been well trained enough to follow as we rush back down the path towards the Grimm-Pitch residence. It’s somewhat bumpy, and with each hit to the ground, I hear a groan emerge from Mr. Pitch’s throat as he clings to me tighter. This isn’t quite the intimacy of our situation that I’d envisioned, but it’s somewhat acceptable from me.

Bursting into the clearing, workers startle and stare as I push onwards towards the stables and house. Shocked servants start spilling out, trying to get an eyeful of the scene. It doesn’t do much justice to us, though, as we need more than rubberneckers to help. As we pull in, Ebb leaps urgently and drags Mr. Pitch off, finding a seat to settle him onto as she elevates his foot. The flooding consists of everyone--the family, the servants regardless of closeness to him, and even some workers fill into the stables to see what had happened to him.

Immediately, it turns into an investigation. Mr. Grimm hovers over me and glares at me all accusatory as I'm stepping away. He begins closing in, forcing me to back up shakily and spread my arms in case I tumble. My vision blurs, adrenaline overloading me and hitting at such an inopportune time.  “What have you--”

“He didn’t do it!” Mr. Pitch breaks in, hissing in pain as his leg gets wrapped. “It wasn’t him, he rescued me. Leave Sir Snow alone.”

I pant, staring upwards at Mr. Grimm as he recoils and stares down upon me before flicking his head towards his son. “Then what in the world happened?”

“Attacked-someone followed us.” His fists clench, exhaling through his nose as his jaw sets while he's breathing out something unheard. “It wasn’t him, father,” he continues audibly, “leave it.”

So he does, leaving me trembling in my spot as countless people fuss over Mr. Pitch and his wounds. In the process, we exchange unsteady glances, to which he doesn’t seem malicious or disgusted, but rather seeking pity and comfort from me as he’s cared over. Someone asks which doctor they should call, pressing ice to his wound as I clear my throat.

“Send a telegram for Doctor Wellbelove. He’s a friend of mine; he’ll treat Mr. Pitch well. Just mention that Sir Snow is sending for him.” That deserves me a thankful exhale from him, face dropping and head rolling down as he flinches in pain and focuses on his somewhat ragged breaths. Eventually, I take a chance to go kneel beside him and look over his injuries as my mind runs through our conversations.

The woods. The way he looked so dazed and unsettled while he looked out among it. As my mind traces back, I can’t help but ponder whether or not there was something he could sense that I couldn’t. If my obliviousness was too heavy; if I should have been more alert the entire trip.

Furthermore, it raises more possibilities, and darker ones at that. Is there a spy attempting to assassinate Mr. Pitch? Was this a failed mission for his throat? And, if so, is it someone on the grounds?

My mind flicks through possibilities, working itself up further before suddenly going static at the touch of Mr. Pitch’s hand against mine. I startle, then raise my head to meet his gaze. When I meet his, he’s staring at me with mild concern as he exhales. “Thank you,” he says, just quiet enough that it’s only me hearing him. At first, I believe I’m mistaken, but the hand still pressed to mine is telling me elsewise.

In a simple returned nod, I smile sadly and chew on my bottom lip. “I am a hero, after all,” I mumble in efforts to defuse the situation, and much to my surprise, it works.

“Always the hero.” He looks down, clearly still in pain but trying desperately to hold it back. “I apologize for this; I suppose it means our leisurely break will have to be postponed to a more convenient time.”

“Suppose I can always go without you.”

“You will not,” he remarks, “and, not to mention, that the theatre will be quite bland without me.” Somehow, despite the urgency and desperation of the situation minutes ago, I smile at him and exhale out somewhat of a chuckle.

“I doubt it will be,” I tease, still grinning from ear to ear as he smiles back.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Ebb at the edge of the stables, by her house. I can’t quite read what her expression is, feeling overwhelmed and chaotic from the moment at hand. The situation was absolutely unexpected; from a pleasant exchange one minute, to so utterly terrible and barely understood the next.

I can’t help but wonder if she’s disappointed in me for leaving him alone. After what he said on the trip there, I can’t quite believe that I had either.

[sunnysynthsunshine]

A “Ted Talk”/Analyisis of what it means to be a “Peoples Poet” and why Rik Mayall means so much to me.

It’s like Alice in Wonderland constantly travelling through worlds.

When I enter “the realms” the galaxies I can see in my dreams and music hallucinations.

My childhood is like a cloud sometimes I like a colourful rainbow of positive nostalgic memories, rainy cringe-worthy memories and then there are the thunderstorms that are the memories I don’t want to think about.

I’ve always been fascinated by what I’d see in Films, TV Shows, Musicals, Songs, Video Games and books but not many really connected with me.

I am a complicated person,I can go from being cheerful, relaxed and happy to being dazed and clumsy or cynical or entranced and hyper-fixated to Pessimistic and Cold to Quiet and Timid to Mellow and Loud,my personality is all over the place with fiction I could only partly relate to certain characters or worlds either because we liked a few of the same foods or films or because we simply looked alike, I’ve had my role models,idols and inspirations sure but I didn’t really realise their full importance in my life until recently and while I loved writing about fiction and imagining myself in fiction I would be the person with the quill, not the damsel or leading man.

I’ve always been interested in Media and Theatre but the latter I couldn’t pursue as far as I wanted to,

I’ve had goals and ambitions but they always kept changing in a way some of them are the same they just ended up being expressed in ways I didn’t expect,

Ever since I studied English I’ve been in love with poetry and literature

When I saw him….his voice was familiar it was a sort of high pitched English sounding male voice..sometimes sounding low toned and posh other times not.

As a kid who watched lots of cartoons, films, adverts and public information films I was exposed to lots of familiar sounding voices in characters on silver, big and animated screens

I recall a cartoon I’d sometimes watch about a knight always trying to win over Queen Guinevere, the cartoon was like Shrek because it satirised fairy tale tropes but in the medieval world of King Arthur.

In Between that would be adverts for cleaning products, one with a golden labrador puppy playing with some toilet roll, an animated duck and villains in the Domestos world that would put the villains of Flushed Away to shame.

He was a voice,I didn’t know his name then even though his name was in the credits of the cartoon mentioned prior but there were so many names in my head at the time (Ant and Dec, Spice Girls, Horrid Henry, Shrek, Toy Story etc.) that his name got lost in translation.

Then years later I got interested in film critique and learned about a film,a film that was considered very bad by the American box office about a peter pan esque imaginary friend...it was then that I heard his voice again but I didn’t know at the time that they were the same.

Since I couldn’t form my own opinions much I went by what the critic said and avoided that film afterwards.

I wouldn’t hear his voice again until 6 years later….

By that time I was about to start college, after leaving secondary school, I was in a bit of a dark place,I had been in some drama,and often when I’d see movies I’d remember the panic attacks rather than the movies themselves due to the experience being ruined by idiots making noise and causing all sorts of nonsense.

I could still laugh at times but usually only in a self-deprecating way, I barely left the sofa and just felt like I was drowning in a void of nothingness.

One night changed that, I was about to start college in a few days, I was in the living room with my mother switching channels when on BBC2 there was a special programme on.

Some bloke named Ben Elton was on a podium talking like a university lecturer about the intellectual aspects of the sitcom format of entertainment, while also paying homage to the late great Ronnie Barker a second generation British comedian I adored the work of when I would watch Open All Hours and Porridge.

When near the end of the lecture, Ben mentioned a show, a show I had never heard of before from the 1980s, called The Young Ones and then proceeded to show clips of it, I kept seeing this pigtailed character in a fringe and this orange-haired punk argue and fight only for one of them to give a detailed tantrum about some show called “The Good Life” and the other to fall down the stairs knocking over the bannisters and ranting about some actress named “Felicity Kendall”.

After quickly researching I became intrigued by this show, I had seen the character’s faces before in two places,one was on Amazon while looking for comedy DVD's and on a dodgy “meme” site called Encyclopedia Dramatica which referenced the scene where the orange haired punk loses his head after sticking  it out a train window.

I then looked up the first few episodes and I was hooked, but it wasn’t like other sitcoms where I’d simply laugh at the stupidity of the gags and characters although that was one aspect of it.

The characters felt relatable while it was in the same nihilistic way I saw myself and some of humanity, that’s how I perceived it, at first I didn’t like tantrum throwing Rick I thought he was too whiny at times and I was drawn to Vyvyan and Neil first,Vyvyan because he felt like the side of me that I rarely showed, the side of me that had a dark sense of humour,  had a sort of free-spirited attitude and liked mild,playful slapstick type of violence, I did have a softie side too but I rarely showed my “Vyvyan” side, now though I couldn’t be prouder to show my “ Vyvyan” side I used to dislike it when I’d walk along my school playground only to see random fights breaking out that would block my walkway but on the inside when I’d watch Japanese cartoons I’d laugh at some fight scenes and I realised there was a side of me that did sort of like violence when it would be in a playful context.

After rewatching and rewatching and thinking back….I grew to like the “Rick” character a bit more, I related to his at times timid social awkwardness, his hypocritical attitude and the questioning of his sexuality.

I had then realised….he acted a bit like I how I did back in secondary school,always being overdramatic if I wasn’t quietly timidly working or being cynical, going on about socialism and the importance of it despite hanging out with problematic internet bloggers at the time who was the complete opposite,I would be lowkey interested in poetry and literature and the fact that at the time he hated Thatcher while I despised Theresa May, who was just starting to use her power to control the UK,I vaguely knew who Margaret Thatcher was because I was in a production of Blood Brothers and before we performed the play we had to research the background history of the play’s setting that’s when I found out about the miner strikes and how the way Thatcher was acting was similar to how Teresa was today.

I also kinda had my own gang in my final years of secondary school but we didn’t go anywhere, some of them stayed in touch others just moved on with their lives.

We would play card games, I’d rant about politics and “Tumblr Aesthetics” and sometimes one of my pals would play metal and pop-punk music in the background, we were the cool kids.

I realised I related to both the “Rick” character and the “Vyvyan” character, after months of not writing stories based on the media I liked,I started writing (again) short stories about “The Young Ones” my ideas for episodes if more than 12 episodes were made,how I would interact with the characters if I lived with them or in the stories case the “alternate universe” version of me.

I’d draw them, I’d write about them, I’d think about them when I’d listen to music, but that wasn’t all.

I had started my Performing Arts course and was learning what skills you’d need to be in “Theatre”.

At the same time I was watching a bunch of the other shows the actor who played “Rick” had been in,sometimes I’d realise I had a lot in common with not just “Rick” from The Young Ones but “Richie” from Bottom,”Richie Rich” from Filthy,Rich and Catflap,”Lord Flashheart” from Blackadder and even the horrific  “Alan B’stard” even though I disagreed with tories despite still hanging out with bad internet “skeptic” people and being raised conservative.

For someone who used to be a massive “weeaboo”, I was becoming quite the Britcom enthusiast

Yeah at times I would mimic his and Ade’s character voices,facial expressions and actions but other times I didn’t need to copy him because we already acted similarly and even if we didn’t I’d realise later in life I did have those other traits It just took a long while before I could proudly express them.

In Between Drama class, I had met some new people and if I was having a day where I felt low, I could just put on a show he was in and cheer up.

That was when I realised his voices and the voice from the bad movie about the imaginary friend and the voice from the cartoon and adverts from my childhood were of the same person.

The person I had finally figured out the name of after all those years.

I had fallen in love, the same love I would’ve had for musicians and fictional Japanese cartoon boys I had for him

His charisma, his looks, his characters, his wise words, his personality, his iconic moments, his variety of facial expressions, his creativity, his eclectic work from Sitcoms to Dramas to Theatre to Video Games to Music.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him...at first, I thought it was going to be like all the other “role models” I had….that changed in 2018.

2018 certainly was a year...I went through my first work experience in a local theatre production,I had met more new people some of which I had met because of our love of him and his work,I took up a new course and even when I did my old drama course,I got to write my own monologue for our final play and I had gotten back into the activity I used to only do when I was an “emo”.

“Poetry!”, the art of putting together multiple rhyming sentences that are all relevant to a certain emotion, feeling or topic.

I was always into literature and English but I was more the type to write stories and read poetry not read stories and write poetry.

After having some big life realisations I decided to pour all of that into a big poem in February,some of my friends read it and loved it,this convinced me that not only were these amazing friends that I will love and cherish to this day but that poetry was something that with a bit of work I could be quite good at….

So I wrote and wrote and wrote I got better with each one, my dreams when listening to music got more vivid than before, so vivid they were almost real like I was visiting another universe.

like an out of body extraterrestrial/paranormal experience.

I had finally moved on from my drama of the past, Self Reflected on my actions learning how to change for the better and I took that punk “free-spirit” of mine and learned how to fully express and how to be more accepting of myself and others.

I got into new and old music, tv shows, films and books...but he was still there

As I went through each show or film of his that I hadn’t watched yet, the love just kept blossoming whether I was laughing my arse off or grinning at a relatable moment from one of his interviews.

It was soon Christmas, a few weeks before, my lucid dreams had a new feature,my Wiccan powers of communication with spirits had gotten powerful enough to the point that when I’d listen to some music I’d hear voice waves in between, voice waves of people I looked up to who unfortunately are not physically with us, I recall it was My Generation by The Who that triggered it,that was a song he performed once on the Young Ones live events,I had interacted with the dead in dreams before,but this was different when I had heard his voice in the dreams where I thought of his characters or of himself, the voice would be vague and barely audible, but this time the voice was more clear and natural almost like he was actually talking to me.

Then Christmas happened, it was a mixed day but I got good gifts and I stood up for my political beliefs for the first time.

Some of the gifts were related to him like his book, box sets of some of his work and…...a red hat

A red hat just like the one his young one's character had on.

A took a few photos and loved the way it looked on me with the blazer I had on, a black blazer similar to the blazer he had on the first few episodes of The Young Ones.

In the middle of the night, I got an idea for a poem, I had written a poem about his show before but this poem was different.

It was a tribute a poem dedicated specifically to him, yes it would reference his characters, but the poem was mainly about him, the impact he made the world and how I felt this amazing ethereal, psychological and philosophical connection to him.

The Lord of Misrule, one of the best poems I’ve ever written, the days after I uploaded photos of me in the hat, and almost everyone I knew loved it,even the friends of mine who didn’t know the young ones but knew the name and look because of me loved the hat and pictures of me in the hat.

It was a sign, my lucid dreams got more vivid than ever and his face became more visible. sometimes when I’d dream about him it wouldn’t be the usual dream of me being in the young ones or me filming a comic strip presents episode or me going to a Ziggy Stardust concert with his teenage self,it would be dreams where I’d be travelling through the galaxies only to end in his place,it looked like something out of the grand Budapest hotel with how well it looked with the pastel-toned colours and minimalist decor and there he would be,he wouldn’t always be in a Jesus esque robe like before,he would be chilling on his sofa, looking exactly like how he looked before in the early 2010s, wearing a plain sweater or dressing gown his long grey hair flowing like an angel, waving and sometimes talking with me,it felt more clear than before it was probably a response from all those times before when I was learning how to spiritually communicate where I was usually the one doing most of the talking,

Usually I’d see him as an idol, icon, deity, legend, role model of sorts but now I started seeing him as a mentor and grandpa sort of figure,his mantras stick with me to this day, we have enough in common to be good pals from other dimensions but such a difference in age and living status that he can be a grandpa figure to me,the angel cheering me on before and after an exam,allowing my spirit third eye self to stay over at his place when I’m feeling low and lost, tickling me, offering advice and I love being able to have these abilities, I’ve always loved astrology and anything to do with ufos, magic or “other worlds”.

He is my guide and I am his apprentice, in my poems and philosophy, I say most of us are peoples poets because of our strong free-spirit opinions and attitudes even if we don’t all have a quill to write those opinions with.

But in the context of his young one's character and the traits of his(him and the character) that I already shared and the traits I overtime learned to accept. 

From the poetry to the similar personality and interests to the spiritual connection,

 to the times my friends and comrades had said that “he would be proud, that I even looked like him and I carried his “energy”, one of them referring to me as a “People's Poet”.

I’ve now realised after all these years that I’ve finally found my meaning, to bring Art, peace and love into the world.

When his character gave that speech about his revolutionary life and how the new generation would gather round for their fallen leader only for  a  sensitive and articulate teenager to say “How can he be dead if we have his poems?” (or shows in this context)

I was a sensitive and articulate teenager as we are all.

I am also the next People's Poet

Step aside,  let’s share the rikosophy by carrying on his legacy into the 21st century 🌈🖇🏴⭐🌠

I shall produce art for the world to see, teach them how to see it in new perspectives, and I shall guide us while we try to stop fascism for good,

let’s be free!

you and me!

Thank You, Doctor.Richard Rik, Michael Mayall  you’ve changed my life  

It is an honour to carry on from where you left off, bringing joy back into the world, inspired by your art while creating my own experimental ideas, I know your listening from the heavenly afterlife clouds and all those galaxies beyond.

Now let’s share that wonderful energy in the ruddy 21st century.

While I’m not the man himself Rik Mayall, I just share his energy and personality 

I am Kelsey….and I am bloody brilliant    

[spencersfunhouse]

Hey, Let’s talk

****TRIGGER WARNING. SOME THINGS I SAY MAY BE TRIGGERING.****

For a very long time I was in denial about being Autistic (*Note* I’m using Autistic and Autism as an umbrella term) for most of my life.

When I was in second grade was when the possibility that I was Autistic came up. I was having trouble making friends and keeping my focus on class and understanding even the most basic of topics. Pretty much my teacher was concerned, as teacher should, that she didn't have the tools or ability to help me learn, so she talked to the nurse and they called my parents. After school me, my mother, my father, my teacher, the nurse, and the principle all sat in the principle office and discussed what we should do. 

The nurse brought up that I might be Autistic and recommended I go to a doctor to get diagnosed. My teacher thought that, even if I wasn't Autistic, that it might be beneficial for my education if I go into a special needs class. Both my mom an dad refused to take me to a doctor pulling the, “Because he’s different and learns slightly differently he’s automatically Autistic and ya’ll just want that government money.” So, I never went and got diagnosed until much later. My mom, though, thought that putting me in a special needs class could be something to be considered, my dad on the other hand thought that was a horrible idea. My parents discussed it over the rest of the week and decided to keep me in the normal class room. My parents both agreed that its was “just a phase” and that as I got older I’d start making friends and “fitting in.” I never did, and never will.

During the summer between my Fourth and Fifth grade year I moved from the state that my mom lived in to the state my father lived in. The school required a physical from every student, so I got mine, and at ten years old I was semi-officially diagnosed. While taking my physical they asked certain questions the school required for me to complete the physical. Afterwards they let my dad in and said that I had a high chance of having ADHD and that they wanted to try some medication to see if that might help me in school and in my day to day life. My dad, not so politely, declined, saying that I was just a hyper kid.

Skip about a year to the middle of my sixth grade year. I went to my pediatrician to get my yearly shots and while they we started talking about how I was doing in school. I told the truth, I wasn't making friends very well, all the subjects bored me, school went to slow, the teacher didn't teach in a way that made sense to me, and I’d honestly rather draw or read my history book than partake in class. She nodded and called my dad in, said she wanted to have me take a sort of test, my dad scowled and said that if it made her happy he’ll allow it. 

About a week later I went back and took this test, some of it was written, some of it was verbal, some was a mix of pictures, books, and toys. The test didn't take more than an hour. A few days later we went back in for the results and they came back that I had ADHD and Autism. (*Note* I’m sure it was more complicated that all of that and that the went into more detail, but I was no more than twelve at the time and I can’t remember much more than that). My pediatrician recommended my dad to put me on some meds and through some therapy. He, much more firmly and much more rude, declined saying something on the lines of, “I’m sure that’s what they test said, but I’m a studied doctor and I can tell you right now that my son is not autistic or ADHD, he’s just a little bit hyperactive and weird, I was the same way at his age.”

Honestly, now, when I look back to my childhood, most of my unhealthy coping mechanisms and thoughts on my own diagnosis were because of my parents. They didn't believe in my diagnosis, so it wasn't true. 

My earliest memory was when I was about five, six. It’s very vague and some of the details are from my mothers point of view. But, we were at a supermarket and I remember it was so loud and between everyone talking and the music playing, it was just to much. I remember being stressed and angry and exhausted all at once. I apparently just, kind of, sat down and pulled my knees to my chest and started grunting and whining, anytime my mom tried to move me I would flail and make a loud whining noise. She assumed I was throwing a fit and lifted me up, flailing and all, and plopped my in the cart. Here I flailed some more, attempted to get out, got out, ran, and ended up at the customer service desk. I had apparently ran to the clothing area and curled up on a shelf, a worker found me, managed to pry my off of the shelf with the offer of a little stuffed horse (*Note* I still own that horse, it was a toy the supermarket was selling and that had been placed in the clothing section, neither me or my mom know what really happened, but whether the employ paid for it or the store just counted it as loss, I left the store clutching that horse). My mom picked me up after she was done checking out, took me to the car, then lectured me about how disappointed she was that I did that and how embarrassed she was that her own son would think that was okay. I remember breaking down in tears because I couldn't understand what I did wrong that made my mom so mad. 

I had a meltdown two other times before I became to afraid to have them. The first time I was with my mom, it was around the same time as the last story, and I did roughly the same thing, just this time there was more screaming and crying. (*Note* Keep in mind I’m about five to seven and hadn't had a temper tantrum since I was about two.) She scooped me up, put me in the basket, checked out, drove home, carried me inside and spanked me bare bottomed and sent me to my room. The second time was with my grandfather about a year later, I just sat down and curled up, my grandfather didn't even give me a minuet on the floor before he hauled me up, carried me to the bathroom, and spanked me. After that I learned quickly that having a meltdown temper tantrum resulted in a spanking, lecture, or punishment of some kind.

Even to this day I struggle with just letting go. I still immediately force myself to internalize it, causing me to become non-verbal with certain people, to become very snappy and rude, to become aggressive, sot towards others but towards my self. I want to punch myself, to punch and kick walls, to scrape my knuckles against the concrete until they bleed, to scratch my skin raw. I hate it because I know that if I just let my body do what it wants to do naturally instead of forcing myself to internalize it that I wouldn't be such a harm to myself. But because during my entire childhood I was taught that expressing my shutdowns and meltdowns those ways lead to punishments, it’s just become embedded. 

I remember I would always reek havoc when we ate, or during conversations, because when I got excited I would flail or squeal or clap, I’m sure I knocked over at least a dozen glasses off of tables or out of someone hand. I remember two times with my dad that for the longest time I could never understand why he said and did what he did. The first time we we’re getting our gear to go skiing. My dad had a coffee and was getting our skis, I was talking to his girlfriend at the time. She brought up going to her house the next day and hanging out with her dogs, I got excited and started to flail, I knocked my dads coffee out of his hand and spilt it all over himself, his girlfriend laughed, but he wiped some coffee off of him and said, “God Damn It Spencer! Why Can’t You Just Be Normal!”  The second time this happened me, my dad, my grandparents, and my cousin were going to dinner. My dad made me leave my backpack in the car, which had my art stuff and some nick knacks I used to entertain myself. We got seated and I forgot to ask for a coloring page, so I quickly became bored. I ended up laying my head on the table on its side. I noticed a little puddle of condensation on the table, I noticed how every time someone bumped the table or set something down it would move. So, I started tapping on the table, hitting my silverware on the table, my glass, anything and being so fascinated on how the puddle moved. It didn't last long before my dad smacked my head. I jerked up and was met with, “Spencer! Stop that! You’re acting like a toddler and everyone’s staring at you wonder why a grown man is acting like a child, how embarrassing!”

Recently I asked my mom if my little brother might be autistic and/or ADHD, because I could see he was showing some of the early signs. My mom quickly dismissed my worries because he didn't

Rock

Hyper focus or hyper fixate

Jump, flail, or excessively or violently move

He learned just fine

He wasn't non-verbal

I realized right then and there that I probably went through most of my life with extremely obvious signs of Autism and ADHD, but both my mom and dad ignored them, and my diagnosis, because I didn't have extremely specific signs.