#or they all go splonk

[randomfoggytiger]

CC has spoken.

X-Files: Fight the Future Hidden Track

In case y’all don’t know how fuckin EXTRA Chris Carter is, lemme tell you. On the X-Files: Fight the Future soundtrack (I’m old school, I still have my CD from 1998), if you let the final track from the Dust Brothers keep playing, after minutes and minutes of silence, at exactly 10:13, Chris Carter himself (yes, his droning, monotone voice, which will scare the shit out of you if you’re not expecting it) lays out what is probably the most coherent explanation of the first five seasons of the show’s mythology I’ve ever heard in my life. And yeah, it’s in the form of a stream-of-consciousness, hidden aside to the fans and is very much an info-dump. But it’s shockingly similar to Mulder’s ridiculous ass monologue for Tad and Sveta’s benefit in front of a seething Scully in the Unremarkable House in My Struggle I. And honestly, after watching Season 10, I have to believe that some of this is going to come into play again. 

He can’t completely retcon his own damn mythos, can he?

Anyway, here’s the monologue for you. It’s pretty great.

“The method, as they call it, though it was more so a germ-line procedure of singular meta-scientific complexity, had been given to them by the alien colonists as a quid pro quo. The Syndicate would help them to create a population of alien hybrids who would hide in plain sight, cloned from human ova and alien bio-material, so there would be a clone race immune to the effects of the black oil when the return to the planet began. For this, the Syndicate would be sequestered, granted a sort of immunity or asylum, given a place in the grander scheme.

“They were the Vichy government to the German “Final Solution”: collaborationists whose motivation was simple, self-directed survival. These cloning operations were spread across the country, the cataloging and record-keeping done through a complex intra-institutional system that connected to every branch of government, from the Social Security Administration to the Department of Defense.

“The operation, under the working title “Purity Control,” had been launched in 1948, its original conception the brainchild of German scientists given immunity themselves for war crimes, and allowed to continue the eugenic experiments that were Hitler’s dark legacy.

“The Syndicate had begun as a subset of a shadow intelligence agency whose original orders were to create plausible denial and an effective cover-up of Purity Control. But through 50 years, numerous U.S. and U.N. administrations, the principals began to wrest control, accumulating power and influence across international borders, such that - by 1990 - the operation ceased to have a member accountable to any one government and whose only orders would be taken from a man named Strughold, a German industrialist who had fled his homeland to northern Africa.

"These men, whose knowledge and access provided control of a foreseeable future, had, in spite of this, everything to lose. Their secret work, the cloning preparations and the cataloging, constituted their greatest vulnerability: exposure. Their detection would ensure not just their own demise but a far-reaching dissolution of social and religious order around the globe.

"To protect against this, the Syndicate employed methods of disinformation, using covert government programs that had been regrettably discovered, as a kind of smokescreen - a dodge or blind where the transgressions of Congress-accountable agencies served to hide their own more odious undertaking.

"They had even at times used the UFO phenomenon to create a hysteria that science and the intelligentsia denounced, so completely, as to make belief in believers seem ridiculous and completely discreditable.

"They had also, in a crisis, used a tool of the colonists themselves - alien bounty hunters who policed the cloning operations and enforced rule on the countdown to colonization. A double-edged sword whose cold-blooded tactics had helped to stem a leak or threat, but who also kept a watch on the Syndicate. A threat in itself, as the Syndicate had something to hide that not even the colonists knew of: a vaccine against the black oil, an inoculant against the substance in which the alien life force was held - in fact, the very medium of the life force itself.

"To guard this secret was perhaps even more critical than the truth of the existence of alien life, and of colonization. If the Syndicate’s own secret vaccine were discovered, the vaccine that would make themselves immune from the effects of the black oil, they would certainly be destroyed and the timetable for colonization stepped up. They would protect this secret with their lives. They would kill to protect it, as it symbolized the only hope they had of avoiding enslavement when the planet was overtaken.

"That they had been able to, over decades, conduct their work on the vaccine undetected was the result of a code among the Syndicate members that put honor and the future above personal politics. But now this code was beginning to break down, an incipient scramble for power beginning to develop. A threat from within that doubled the threat from without: from agents Mulder and Scully, and the X-files.”

[amarantoestrella]

Need to be awake in five hours but I can’t sleep.

Anyways, I can’t stop thinking about how kids will have you speaking a new language that is somehow still English but with added made up words. Motherhood has you calling them the most random nicknames out of endearment and they just eat it up. Who knows what a splinkly splonkly is but my five year old will tell you that yes of course she is indeed my splinkly splonkly and in fact she is the splinkiest splonkiest girl up in this B. However, sometimes she is just splink because my son is splonk, it is what it is.

That’s it, thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[plinkcat-gif]

FP: obkk + disguises, any way you want <3 I love your art, hope you’re having a great day!!

splonk

so fun fact: i didn’t actually intend for it to go like this!! so i will be drawing a consolatory piece for edgy art ABSJDKAJS plus ur prompt gave me an idea for another piece 😼😼

want high quality art from me????? this is probably a one time event (“event” as in event in my life) and all u gotta do is go under the cut and click the link to find the post w the rules 😜😜

sicko mode

bonus lineart :p

[addiewho]

I made an ask game! Image ID under the cut:

I arranged the image description into one paragraph so that anyone using a screenreader finds it easier to listen to. If you’re just here because the image isn’t loading, I’m sorry, you’ll have to bear with it.

[Image ID: An ask game. The ask game has seven different circles filled in with various colours and text to indicate what the circle’s ask is. The text in the circles is as follows. Splonk: Lots of uncontained energy in this one. You’re that one mutual who goes on a reblog spree at three in the morning with so much contagious excitement of yours to spread in the tags and that’s amazing actually. Beep Boop: Very smart....much knowledge. You know so much about everything that I’d probably willingly watch you rant about the most boring and mundane of things because you just have a way of making it all seem interesting. Pong: You’re The Cool Mutual. I love you. We all do. Splash: You both excite and terrify me at the same time. Great content 10/10 but bestie please go see a therapist. Boop: How does it feel being the funniest person on this site. Plink: Like the night sky on a moonless night, you are a cold and distant one. There’s something about you that makes all my instincts scream “RUN”, but yet, I continue to stay. I feel like you’ve committed a crime before but that’s none of my business. ???: Lol idk who u r lmao hi. End ID.]

[shewhoeatssand]

Nvm guys I retook my measurement by stacking a meter ruler and and I’m 5’1, I could definitely take Kaneki in a fight. He better be fucking ready

I just found out that I am in fact very very small and not tall enough to bonk Kaneki with a rolled up magazine ☹️

I used to believe that I could trust him. That had he been real, and had we met, he would have been a beacon of light in my empty midnight lake of loneliness. I was perfectly willing to allow myself to be manipulated by him. I would have looked past all his faults and sins, and simply admired his beauty, brushing his dried and unwashed hair away to take a better look at the myriad of blooming patterns within his eyes. However, it is simply not meant to be. He is too tall. I could not possibly even hope to reach his neck, let alone peer at his face. I could look up and the top of his head would disappear into the sky, far beyond what the human eye could comprehend. At first, I was in a state of denial. “There’s no way I could be so teeny, right? I could never be 4’9. I’m supposed to be 5’2. I could easily reach him and pour an entire fishbowl filled with fish gravel on his head.” But no. I was forced to accept the painful truth. And it hurt. The one person I put all my faith in had betrayed me. I could ignore the fact that he canonically had a crush on a minor at one point, sees violence as love, probably has an Oedipus complex, hallucinates vividly at times and has no true personality due to his entire life being spent deceiving and trying to please people, but this? This was unacceptable. My own son. Betrayed me. I am going to be forever alone. The world is too big and me too small. If I was kidnapped by the fae at this point I would not mind as I would fit in more with them than I would in my own world at this point

[trainwreckzadr]

Asks ‘n ‘Swers

There are a bunch of ‘em, so for the sake of your dashboard...

Rest in peace,oh beautiful screaming lizard... you will be missed...

Mostly just by Dib. And maybe GIR. Probably no one else, because you’re very loud and obnoxious.

Hi, welcome to the party! Everything’s on fire and the punch has been poisoned!

Thanks! I can’t wait to annoy everyone in my psychology class with all my horrible puns!

I’m so... psyched. (˵¯͒◡¯͒˵)

Wow, thanks! I’m so glad to hear it made you laugh! :D

And yeah, Dib hasn’t been acting very... Dibbish. I might make it part of the... plot...?

(Does this comic even have a plot...?)

*splick splark splonk*

Mostly Paint Tool Sai. I also made some models of the Skool in SketchUp that I use for reference sometimes. (I only made the classroom and the outside of the building though...)

Technically they should be going to a different school by now, but unfortunately a recent chemical spill has caused all of Earth’s ducks to mutate into intelligent, brain-eating monsters that burrow into peoples’ skulls and control their minds from the inside. And since the duck monsters are smart enough to target high-power individuals, every single government official has been duckified, so almost all of the country’s funding for education has been redirected into wildlife conservation (specifically ducklife).

Because of this, schools had to make so many cuts that they ended up saying “Screw it! We can’t afford to have an elementary school, a middle school, and a high school! Just shove ‘em all together!” They can’t even afford new textbooks, so the students have had to go to the same school with the same teachers learning the same things for the past several years. The future looks bleak under the rein of our new feathered leaders...

The popcorn industry is doing swell, though.

Aww, thanks! Positive chain messages are adorable. <3

I don’t have enough time to go on an anon-love spree right now, but thanks for the message anyway. If anyone reading this wants to give the game a shot, have at!

[murphysannie]

@achilleanragnor‘s sh love fest day 10: familial love

title: a shoebox of photographs with sepia-tone loving

relationship: luke/jocelyn, luke & clary, clary & simon

tw: food ment

[read on ao3]

It takes Luke approximately a half an hour longer to put the tent up than it should do, and rather than making herself useful Jocelyn just parks her butt on a log and laughs at him. He lifts an eyebrow at her second snort, turning to her with a deliberately put-out expression on his face.

"Did you wanna help?" he asks.

Jocelyn grins at him and flings her hand out to gesture to the kids. "Sorry, got my hands full with the two of them. They're running riot."

Luke glances over at where Clary and Simon are kneeling by a newly overturned log, chattering excitedly about the mini beasts they found hiding there. Clary's peering at something Simon has in his open palm, their heads so close together Luke wouldn't be surprised if one of them ended up getting bumped.

"Riot. Right," Luke repeats flatly.

"Besides," Jocelyn says, quirking an eyebrow, "I'm quite enjoying the view."

If Luke flexes his arms a little in his T-shirt at her words, no one has to know.

Jocelyn laughs again and springs up from the log, volunteering that she's going to find some firewood. Luke's smiling as he turns back to wrestle with the tent. How hard can it be, really? He's a werewolf, he shouldn't be defeated by a few sheets of material and some sticks.

They've set up camp in a little clearing in the woods, with enough space for the tent and some chairs and a little camping stove Jocelyn's neighbour had lent them. By the time Jocelyn gets back, Luke's won the tent-battle and is unfurling their sleeping bags inside it.

"Nice work," Jocelyn says, squeezing Luke's arm.

"I'm a man of many talents," Luke says, and he catches the way Jocelyn wiggles her eyebrows at him as she crouches down to smooth out the sleeping bags.

They fry steak for dinner over the campfire, Luke insisting that everyone has some salad on the side. He cuts Clary and Simon's tomatoes in half, then arranges them with some cucumber sticks into a smiley face. Simon grabs a handful of grated carrot and splonks it on top of the salad face on Clary's plate, claiming it now looks like her, and Clary looks mildly offended for a moment before she's laughing.

It's good to see the kids so happy and carefree, getting a childhood Luke and Jocelyn were never granted themselves. Even with everything they've been through to get here, Luke wouldn't change it for the world. He looks across to Jocelyn, finds she's already reaching her hand out for his, and smiles at her. Her eyes are bright in the light of the fire.

"You gotta eat your salads, guys," Jocelyn says, clearing her throat, "or no dessert."

"I can't eat Clary," Simon points out sadly, his finger circling in the air over where he's added a salad-Clary to his own plate.

"It's okay," Clary tells him kindly. "I'll forgive you. That's what friends are for."

Simon beams at her and pushes his glasses up his nose before happily munching on some carrot. Luke can't help but smile, catching Jocelyn's eye.

Once they've finished their food Jocelyn ums and ahs and loudly debates with Luke about whether they should be allowed dessert. Clary turns to Luke with big puppy eyes. Simon's beside her, nodding along, brown eyes wide behind his glasses.

"Please, Luke," Simon says.

"Please, Dad," Clary adds, and Luke's momentarily speechless, heart expanding and overcome with emotion.

He swallows the lump in his throat - how did he ever end up so lucky as to get this? - and reaches over to ruffle their hair.

"Sure thing, kiddo," he tells her. "How could I say 'no' to you?"

Jocelyn whips out the marshmallow packet to Clary and Simon's cheers, and once Luke's got the fire roaring they take it in turns to help the children roast marshmallows. Clary gets the hang of it pretty quickly, having the knack to get them gooey but not burnt. She informs them all primly that turning the skewer is just like holding a paint brush. A few of Simon's get a bit burnt, his concentration wandering as he holds them over the fire, more focussed on telling them excitedly about The Incredibles.

Luke can feel the tension draining from his body; his hellish week at work feels far away, like his whole world is the three people in front of him. In a way, it is - since his family disowned him, something that still bullets him through with pain now, he's made his own family, found his own people.

Simon's still on his movie story, though somewhere along the way it seems to have got entwined with a tale his sister told him about real life superheroes and villains in New York. It's almost so cliché, sitting round a campfire, swapping stories - though Luke reckons there're tales in his and Jocelyn's past that are closer to villains almost destroying the world than he ever wants Clary and Simon to have to experience - that Luke is ready to join in and go with it, but then he notices Clary's expression.

"I don't think I like that story," she says, crossing over to Luke and resting a hand on his knee. She looks up at him.

Luke sweeps a strand of red hair behind her ear. "Don't worry," he tells her. "Your Mom and I will always be here to keep you safe."

"Promise?" Clary asks, arching an eyebrow. She looks so serious in the firelight.

"Promise," Luke confirms. Clary smiles at this, the turns and plucks another marshmallow from the bag and spears it with her skewer. She holds it over the fire as Simon enthusiastically continues his story despite Jocelyn's efforts to calm him a little.

"He swoops down and bang!" Simon yells, jumping off his chair. Clary squeals and the marshmallow stick goes flying up in the air. As if in slow motion, Luke can see it happening, but he's too slow to stop it. The stick bounces off Clary's head and sticks there, the gooey sugar holding it in place.

To Clary's credit, she doesn't cry, she just looks a little perturbed and tries to pull it out. But that does nothing, and then her panic begins to set in. Simon, for his part, looks guilt-ridden, suddenly up in front of Clary and fussing at her, apologising.

"Luke," Jocelyn says calmly, "could you find the penknife in my bag, please?"

"Knife?" Clary squeaks.

Simon looks a bit sick. "Please don't cut all of Clary's hair off, Jocelyn," he says.

Jocelyn smiles reassuringly. "I won't, honey," she says. "Just the part that has marshmallow in it."

Clary only allows her mother to trim her hair if she can sit on Luke's lap. Simon holds her hand, telling her it will be alright, and Luke has a fleeting thought that they're all being entirely ridiculous, making such a big deal out of this. But this is his life now, and as he meets Jocelyn's eye, he knows he wouldn't have it any other way.

They make it through the rest of the night without any more marshmallow-related mishaps, and before long the kids are falling asleep where they're sitting. Jocelyn and Luke half-carry, half-walk the children into the tent, settling them down inside the sleeping bags. Once they're firmly asleep, Luke and Jocelyn head back outside.

"Thank you," Jocelyn says quietly, resting her head against Luke's shoulder. Luke tilts his head to lean against hers. "You do so much for us. I just want you to know that I appreciate you."

"I do," Luke says. "We do it for each other."

Jocelyn pulls away then and smiles at him. Luke presses a kiss to her temple and then wraps her in his arms. She sighs happily and tugs him closer. The two of them sit wrapped up in each other by the dying light of the campfire, lost in the moment.

It's only when they've trudged back to their car the next day and Clary catches sight of herself in the wing mirror that she starts whimpering. Simon helps Jocelyn load the trunk while Luke tries to calm Clary, and he manages to get her into the car. She blinks at him dolefully as he helps her put her seatbelt on, tears spilling over her lashes.

"I don't wanna look like a boy, Luke," she cries. "Mommy cut all my hair off when I told her not to!"

Simon starts clambering up into the backseat of the car and Jocelyn helps him put his seatbelt on. Luke nudges Clary with his elbow to get her attention again.

"She cut a tiny bit off, Clary," he tells her gently, "which was the best thing to do." Clary isn't mollified and her bottom lip begins to push out into a pout, which Luke knows will end in a real meltdown soon. "Listen to me, kiddo: no matter what you look like, you're still beautiful to me," he tells her. She bites her lip. "And I will always love you."

Clary stares at him for a moment and he holds her gaze, and then she nods slowly. "I will always love you," she says, and man, if Luke didn't have to drive home he probably would have melted right there and then. "Whatever you look like. Even when you're old."

Luke smiles. "Watch it," he says, poking her playfully. She grins at him, eyes less watery. He leans in. "D'you want to know a secret?" he asks. She nods eagerly. "Everyone else here will always love you too."

Jocelyn nods. "It's true," she says. Beside Clary, Simon is nodding ferociously too.

Crisis averted, Luke and Jocelyn get in the car. Jocelyn squeezes Luke's thigh as they set off, mouthing thank you, and he smiles at her.

Luke looks at Clary and Simon in the rearview mirror.

"Who wants to play a game?" he asks, and cheers resound in the car in reply.

Simon goes first, and soon they're all giggling as Luke drives them home.