#sorry for the crusty ass art and writing

[catihere]

Ethan Nakamura headcanons because I said so

I’ve recently been so obsessed with him for no reason, and I’ve noticed there’s really a lack of Ethan content in the fandom. So I thought: why not make it myself? Please tell me in the notes what do you think, and, if you want to talk about the one and only, terminally underrated Ethan Nakamura, please slide in my asks! :)

(Part 2 coming soon because I have TONS of ideas)

[student-in-nightraven]

hello!^^ this is my first request [its been a really long time since ive acc requested on tumblr and stuff so sorry if im crusty o(TヘTo) , ps how are you? :D] could i please have a twisted wonderland match make personality: im a person would will throw myself on you as a 'hug' , and i will roast the mfing out of u if you're super annoying [pls i acc nice] , i hate hate hate when fights break out in my class but ill stil give a non-biased report on every.single.detail. I can lose my temper quickly and would "talk back" even though its hard to control my mouth , anyways i love cats i will litterly miss my bus for petting a cat. i wont budge if you shout scream or even hit i really wont bother if you're just downright giving me a headache , i love to just drop kick people like i did once when it was on accident but my friend fell on her back and i was apologetic. MBTI:intp likes: reading [a really big bookworm] , i like to play on my switch and i dont personally like art but im good at it , i love creative writing and and im in the makes of making own , its a dark angsty novel if ya wanna know.[ a lil sneak peak 'As Francis held the remaining petals, his sobs were filling up the silence in the hole of his mind yet no sound truly came out. he felt that his legs fail to support him no longer as he collapsed into the pitch black void of his feelings....'] i like desserts and sour things , dislikes:i really really hate being confronted, and i hate over working to much since i feel exhausted . i hate being accused a lot and i really really really hate being bullied. appearance: shoulder length dark-brown hair with hazel coloured eyes, i short despite my age and was mistaken for a person about 2 grades/years younger than me 😭 , i wear blue ombre glasses! [ps. dont overwork your self on anything - a new follower☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆]

Awe well aren't you just the sweetest!! I match you with...

..

... Ace!

Can I just say, c h a o t i c. But in a cute way😻

We all know how it went down when ace first met yuu, so when he was being a little ass you did NOT hesitate to put him in his place, after a little rivalry you grew closer and instead of being eachothers problem decided to be the nrcs problem ✨

Ace is cheering you on whenever you're beefing with riddle, which to may I add is basically every single day- I mean who are you to blame? He is overly strict and someone has to be brave enough to tell him so, which is why ace bows to you, and as a gift gifts you a cherry pie which he made himself! (I hc he's good at baking especially when it's related to cherries)

expects praises but doesn't at the same time, like he'll be all "oh I'm such a good boyfriend I deserve compliments!!" and when you actually compliment him he freezes and blushes;

He is so jealous of grim, he can't pry your hANDS OFF OF HIM, you're holding grim 24/7 and ace just stares at you, with tears in his eyes/hj

Asked vil if he could turn him into a cat once. no joke, he actually did. he was a ginger cat with the softest fur-

You gasped and immediately cradled the cat in your arms unaware of who it really was, coincidentally the spell wore off soon and he turned into his original form which you were barely able to hold;

He definitely takes glances at what you're writing " is it about mee?~" "Ace for the last time, NO-"

You dropkicked him and he deserved it

If you accidentally overworked or are close to it he immediately runs up to you and drags you far away from your desk, bringing you anywhere else to either cause trouble or just relax, yep ladies gentlemen he can relax, crazy ik.

But yeah he may be an ass but he cares so much about you, loves you dearly but wouldn't admit it out loud unless you were asleep, then he whispers it, you smirk and he chokes on his words and yells at you once he realises you were awake

Thank you for the request dear annon! Your book sounds very interesting, I might take a peek👀, bye for now! Have an amazing week<3

[stellerssong]

first off, @writing-for-life and @tickldpnk8, how fucking dare you. yes, i know we got ourselves into this mess collectively by voting as we did, but like............man. You Have Led This Bracket Into Hellfire And Perdition

and okay, it looks like i'm on the losing side this round, but i do have to say that because of everything about me as a person, my choice here is clear. yes, frankly, i DO hate Michael Zulli's Morpheus, he looks deeply fucked up, crusty, disproportionate, unmoisturized, withered, shriveled, unpleasant like a good 75% of the time. and yes, frankly, Jon J. Muth's style is more consistent, beautifully stylized, and my quibbles with his art tend to be just that, quibbles rather than [gestures at previous sentence].

HOWEVER. the point of this bracket is to vote for your favorite Dream design. and if we're talking my favorite Dream design, that strays into the category of my favorite Dream, and, well...

i mean, look. i think a lot about that post someone made back in the earlier days of show fandom that was like "whenever anyone says they saw Dream of the Endless in their dreams it's always Morpheus and never Daniel huh, like sorry kid, you're second best." my immediate and i mean IMMEDIATE response to that post was to go "maybe YOU never see Danny because he doesn't WANT to hang out with your negative ass. he shows up in my dreams on a weekly basis. skill issue." like. that's my guy. my dude. my little walking dead guy. and who illustrates THEE most iconic, THEE most recognizable, and THEE most compelling-as-visual-metaphor Daniel!Dream of all time?

nope, it's not Nick Robles, although you're very close! Nick Robles illustrates the most FUCKABLE Daniel!Dream of all time. easy mistake to make.

we of the swan stellerssong household are Danny stans before we are human beings, and if that means we must fight a losing battle on behalf of Michael Zulli's crusty-ass skeletor Morpheus, then so be it. it was worth it for Danny.

and i'll say it one last time for the people: [spits blood, crumples slowly to the ground, pierced by many arrows] m-michael...zulli...sweep...

Round Two/1, Poll

Jon J Muth

VS

Michael Zulli

Muth vs Zulli, oofft. We kept the panels of round one for consistency and added a second one each to make them more comparable in terms of character and angle.

To the left, you see both artists’ renditions of Morpheus (the original entry for Muth and a new one for Zulli).

To the right, their depictions of Daniel (the original entry for Zulli and a new one for Muth).

If you’d like to read up on background information, look at wonderful art appreciation for both and refresh your memory (especially with regard to the issues they created), you can do this here, plus have their Sandman issues again:

Jon J Muth: The Wake #74, “Exiles”

Michael Zulli: The Doll’s House #13, World’s End #53, The Wake #70-73

And you will need some of that info, because for round two, we would like you to still tell us about your favourite artist and why you chose them, but we want to see panels (or other art like commissions) that contain their depictions of Dream you like least.

We like our artists and often have blinkers on when it comes to consistent portrayal and art style because we are in love with a handful of panels. So we’d like you to challenge your own bias and basically give us reasons not to like your favourite artist. We’re mean like that 😉

And remember, you are still not voting for storylines/arcs, but Dream design.

Who is your favourite, and why are you still sticking with them even after showing us your least favourite Dream depictions? Let us know in the comments/reblogs.

Here’s the poll to vote for your favourite if you want to see them again (you can find the whole bracket and some additional info here, and feel free to check out previous matches via the tag #sandman march mania):

Event organisers: @writing-for-life and @tickldpnk8

[scorpionyx9621]

While the art is left to be desired (i'm hope i use this ohrase right, my english is awful). I suprised that i found future state!Jason to be more enjoyable than Urban Legend one. Like he's way more capable there and [spoiler alert] also Bruce depend on him and still call him son? So you can have a bad ass Jason and good son jason at the same time.

So I need to apologize because this turned into a rant about Jason's characterization as whole and MAN is it long-winded and I'm sorry.

I have to agree. I really like the characterization Future State/Dark Detective is going for with Jason.

Jason is still the typical Jason we've grown to expect. Cold, cynical, snarky, willing to cross the dark red line and kill if need be, but he's still shown to have emotions. When he's betraying the family it's vocalized by Jason that he's upset about the situation. He doesn't want to, but he must for the mission Bruce put him under.

Truth be told, I'm not fully caught up on Future State/Dark Detective. I've kind of been reading spoilers and just getting the general gist in the periphery from people like you on Tumblr. I've been more focused on Urban Legends, which, while I will say I still don't hate the story, hell we still have two issues left of Cheer, and I by no means think Chip Zdarsky is a bad writer by any means. His characterization of Jason irks me.

*God I was so on the fence about Eddy Barrow's take on Jason until Issue #3. That right there? THAT. That's a handsome ass man Maurry*

ANYWAYS: I'm irked by Zdarsky's take on Jason just because of how hot headed and brash Jason is. Now don't get me wrong, every main writer for Jason has taken a bit of a different spin and while the big characters who have written Jason (Judd Winnick, Scott Lobdell, Tony Daniel) and while Zdarsky seems to be what I'm hoping to be a bit of a medication of Jason & Bruce's relationship. He's doing it at the expendature of Jason's characterization of being a damn near criminal mastermind.

If we focus on Winnick and Daniel's interpretation of Jason (Winnick wrote the original Under the Hood & Lost Days. Daniels wrote Battle for the Cowl) as well as all Pre-New 52 versions of Jason. Jason is a monster. Like genuinely a horrible human being. He still fights for right moral side (he kills mostly child abusers/drug traffickers and the likes) but this Jason is genuinely unhinged and while smart, he's absolutely monster. Hell, in Battle for the Cowl after hearing Bruce's final words, he has a villainous breakdown. Dresses as batman, and starts killing people. Judd Winnick himself said he sees Jason as a 'Psychopath' and there are a lot of very vocal people who say Winnick's original interpretation of Jason as a violent, misanthropic villain is the superior version and that Jason should return to this.

*I love to point out that I made a post on my alt account questioning Jason's age in this issue. Turns out he's Like SEVENTEEN. I get why they draw him older and more mature because of his darker/more villainous tendencies. But there's something kind of True Crime Podcast host fascination I have with this greasy, crusty, 17 year old who just casually kills 30 mobsters in horrific gun violence and calls it a day.*

Then we have the New 52. And in comes Red Hood & The Outlaws + the eventual Red Hood: Outlaw series. Piloted by the one Scott Lobdell. Now I know a lot of people dislike Lobdell for his takes on certain characters, his all-over-the-place writing style. (Let's not forget his allegations of SA and the fact that he openly admits that he wrote Jason as a self-insert for a 'bad guy seeking redemption') this was my first comic experience with Jason and to be honest, I can't bring myself to hate it. Sure there's some parts that literally show how much of a dumpster fire Lobdell's writing can become, but for the most part I genuinely liked the characterization of Jason that Lobdell gives. Jason may be a bit more reactionary and just kind of making shit up as he goes along, but he's far from dumb. The intro to the series has Jason sneaking into a terrorist run nuclear sub and killing everyone inside.

Again: Lobdell's writing is all of the place. But I do like that his take on Jason is a bit more subdued. I know in the New 52 they wanted to make Jason an Anti-Hero. Someone who very much still driven by emotion and revenge. But he's definetly more relaxed and even has a lot of fun. Intelligence wise he has is moments, but it does emphasize that while he may be the best read Robin, he does have a tendency to leap before he looks. Also all the art for RHATO with the exception of a few series were TOP TIER. I understand why they hired artists like Kenneth Rocafort and Dexter Soy to rehabilitate his image. I mean, come on.

Now if we're talking about Jason's intelligence, I'd be absolutely remiss if I didn't discuss Red Hood: Outlaw and the Price of Gotham Arc. Specifically this exchange between Bruce & Jason. To me, this is the single best part of Lobdell's run and shows Jason's true intelligence.

To give a rundown: After Bruce banished Jason from Gotham after seemingly killing the Penguin. Bruce proceeded to find Jason and literally beat him to within an inch of his life. It took MONTHS for Jason to recover. A lot happens but mostly Jason finds out (from Bruce no less) that Penguin is still alive. Jason hatches a devious plan. He takes over the iceberg lounge, kidnaps and holds Penguin hostage. Publically outs himself as Jason Todd, the dead ward of Bruce Wayne, as alive and well, and the new owner of the Iceberg Lounge.

When Bruce finds out he's clearly pissed and goes to confront Jason because he's banished him from Gotham. But because Jason outed himself as alive and one of Bruce's sons. Batman can do NOTHING. Jason has Bruce by the balls. If Bruce does anything to Jason while he's out and alive as Jason, all Jason has to do is tell the truth. And the whole Batman jig is up in an instant. And Bruce? After these panels? He runs off with his tail between his leg because he can't touch Jason. And all Jason did was capture penguin, and come out as alive. THIS is the Jason that I love. This is the Jason that strikes fear into people's hearts.

I think a lot of the general complaints we see about Jason as a whole is just how inconsistent he is with his writing. Which I agree. It's hard to characterize Jason well when there's been a character like Lobdell who was at the Helm of Jason's character for 10 years and then forced to leave. And I don't really know if DC has any really solid plans for his character and development. There's a lot of hype surrounding the end of Cheer and them saying it'll 'change Red Hood & Batman's relationship forever' as well as with Jason being featured in the new Suicide Squad coming this August, and Jason getting a feature in an issue of Robin. It'll be interesting to see where they take the character. Personally I do want a resumption of Jason. But like Harley Quinn where they're taking their sweet time redeeming her. Jason has done A LOT of awful things and of they wanna make him a hero, I want a few years to pass in terms of monthly issues before we see Jason become a hero again.

*edit: spelling*

[brainpuncture]

idk i wanna get to know you more, what some things you like besides hs and garfield?

ok so i wrote a lot by accident its under the cut

i fucking love wizards bro theyre crusty old men with huge beards and sick spells fuck yes. fuck harry potter though

clowns? amazing. funky. very beautiful. very powerful. i doodle these fuckers so much (mostly on schoolwork)

hylics is magnificent. makes me wanna pick up clayworking (but no.... hate the texture...) i drew stuff from it a couple times and have spam reblogged cool art :] its literally so good i need to play the second game. musics funky too. i could write an essay abt this game (i wont on this post bc i dont wanna make people scroll down that fast)

oh yeah y2k tech too. well not limited to 2000s though... like i just really love tube tvs and monitors. thats why i have tv head ocs lol. need to get an old broken crt tv so i can finally cosplay one of em......

abandoned buildings!!! ive been getting into watching proper people and shit. i wanna explore a powerplant so bad... but im weak and slow so idk if itd really be safe for me to. good enough reason to start working out tho ig. but theres also not a lot of accessible abandoned shit where i live. if i tried to go into these buildings i would get arrested lol

the legend of zelda too. it was one of my first like legit interests and its kinda just stuck with me. childhood game franchise! my favorite game is skyward sword. not for the controls though. the controls suck absolute ass... the storys close to me though and i love the character design. twilight princess is a close 2nd too... i have a concept art book for both of these games and god i love the npcs. theyre so thought out... really aiming for my characters to get to be as good as those

dusty old fucked up plush toys. i found a graduation bubba at a thrift store out in the country and i hold him so dear... bug eyed little fuck <3 wait i can show you hold on

[bubba right, frog left] i love them sm... roadkill frogs here too bc theyre one of my favorites too (i dont have them in my possession sadly)

jerma (this ones self explanatory. hes just a fucked up manlet)

saiki k is like. one of my favorite animes... love that guy. aroace king.

actual favorite anime is mp100. hm ok theres a theme to my fav animes huh.

i also enjoy reading abt/ looking at dead shit! hoping to preserve something one day :] (although i dont want to take a body from the road or a seller, as that can be unethical)

bugs are cool. i dont ever kill bugs if i dont have to and i feel really bad if i do. theyre just small friends yknow

bill and ted. spec bc theyre hot and also they give me gender envy. i want to look like these dumb fucks

ok thats it. sorry for making you read all this

[clinkclink-bitch]

Some thoughts on TROS from an actor/(amateur) writers perspective:

-  fuck rose’s entire character and story arc I guess???  I hated her being into finn just as much as the next person but completely ignoring that it happened???  utter shit.  It could’ve literally been a small scene where Rose said something like “hey sorry about what happened at Crate, I shouldn’t have done that.”  and Finn could’ve been like “uhhh no prob.”  and her bein like “I’m over it now, so you don’t have to worry about me being all weird.”  boom plot hole solved

-  Props to all the actors for doing the best with a whack-ass script.  

-  Oscar Isaac said “Fuck Disney, Poe’s gay for Finn.”  and I AM HERE FOR IT!!

-  Rey bein a motherfucking BADASS the whole fucking time was amazing!!

-  I fucking loved Kylo Ren’s transition to Ben Solo, Adam Driver is an amazing actor

-  on that note, the actors’ backs must fucking hurt from having to carry the entire movie on their talent and instincts.  It takes expert craftsmanship to create such beautiful, truthful character arcs out of a shaky script and directors/writers that were not focused on their characters and crafting.  

-  I’ve never been a huge Reylo person until that last scene, but goddamn some good ass moments came out of it.  Daisy and Adam fucking nailed the chemistry.  I was literally sitting there thinking “Oh my God, do it.  Fucking kiss!”

- honestly the last 2 movies (TLJ and TROS) have favored visual spectacle and nostalgia over a solid plot.    

- WHERE THE FUCK DID PALPATINE COME FROM????  HE WAS LITERALLY YEETED SEVERAL THOUSAND FEET DOWN A PIPE WITH HIS OWN POWER KILLING HIM????  ARE WE TO BELEIVE THAT THE SITH LITERALLY CAN’T DIE UNTIL A SUC

-  I (along with I think a lot of ppl) was sure that Rey was Luke’s daughter.  Now you’re telling me that ugly, dusty, crusty lookin Palpatine had sexual intercourse with someone??

- BEN SOLO DID NOT FUCKING DESERVE TO BE KILLED OFF AFTER SACRIFICING EVERYTHING AND LITERALLY SAVING THE RESISTANCE.  FUCK.  It feels like the only reason they did that is because Darth Vader laid down his life, so they had to play in to nostalgia.  Fuck. That. Shit.  In my opinion it would’ve been a much better story to show contrast in generations, Ben Solo should’ve lived.  Rey fucking deserved to be happy.  It would’ve been interesting to see a Jedi not be melancholy as FUCK because someone they care for deeply has been ripped away from them too soon.

-  Where did the Force Energy healing come from??? doesn’t match up at all with the other 6 fucking movies.  I liked it as a plot device for this movie and it seems plausible for Star Wars logic, but I hate that all this shit got added as a cheap plot device.  It seems like they forgot this was part of a 9 part series and were like “fuck it we’re creating new stuff The Force can do.”  Although you could maybe argue that Rey and Ben’s amount of power is unprecedented because of the dyad.  

-  Speaking of, SO IT WASN’T SNOKE CONNECTING THEM, IT WAS AN EXTREMELY RARE, POWER BOND BETWEEN SOULS???  ONE MIGHT EVEN SAY THAT THEY WERE SOULMATES????  IF THE BOND WAS SO FUCKING STRONG SHOULDN’T IT HAVE KILLED BOTH OF THEM???  WHY SHOULD BEN GIVING REY SOME OF HIS LIFE FORCE KILL ONLY HIM?  

- Speaking of Snoke, BITCH WHAT THE FUCK????  So was Snoke like a creation of Palpatine?  That he manipulated and spoke thru like a puppet???  I guess that kind of fixes the whole killing him off bullshit.  

-  I’ve said before and I’ll say it again:  It’s obvious that the plot was not a priority.  It’s clear that an overarching narrative between TFA, TLJ, and TROS was not planned.  And with the changing hands over who had creative control, the story changed.  No consistency at all.  

-  Hux is the spy?? bitch wut???

TL;DR:  Ben deserved better.  Fight me.   In terms of plot, it feels like profit was prioritized over art and storytelling.  The cast did the best they could with what they had, but the conflict between the choices they made for their character and the writing of the show was clear.  Visually stunning.  Anything with Badass women kicking ass will get me pumped up.  I wanted so much more for this final movie, but it honestly could’ve been a lot fucking worse too.  

[gimmeeshelter]

hi babe I wanna talk music with u. tell me what you think is the decade defining album(s) of the 60s-80s and why? x

oh prepare for a long-ish ask. I think the 70′s and 80′s it’s kind of clear what albums were decade-defining but the 60′s really was when music made its largest shift ? if that makes sense my brain is fried from after writing this paper lol 

1960s

1. The Velvet Underground & Nico// The Velvet Underground

- Even though i hardly talk about the velvet undergound on my blog i am incredibly fond of this band. i think their sound brought something totally different to the music scene at the time, and the warhol influence fused music and art into an incredible union. i think the velvet underground is like the band of the art rock scene, with just a touch of mod? they’re incredible. 

2. Revolver// The Beatles

- In my opinion, Revolver is the best beatles album like its a banger from start to finish (except yellow submarine fuck that) I feel like this album has a really good balance between their original sound, while also adding so many different elements its just a really interesting album to me. I think this album is a really good example of the progression of rock throughout the 60s, especially compared to their earlier albums

3. Highway 61 Revisited// Bob Dylan

- okay i really could’ve put any dylan album on here from the 60s because theyre all so good and i think they all made such an influence on folk/rock music. his songwriting is literally indescribable (i know i dont need to tell you this). I picked highway 61 because it’s my favorite at the moment (from the 60s, my favorite dylan album is desire) I also think this shows the versatility of dylan i dunno ? Similar to revolver, highway 61 encapsulates the changing tides of the music scene in the 60s

4. Let It Bleed// The Rolling Stones

- oh my FUCK when i thnk of the 60s i think of this album almost immediately. It’s not my all time favorite stones album but god its up there. opening with such an apocolyptic song like gimme shelter ? bold ass move and im glad they did it. That song literally is a beacon for the end of the 60s, especially when you look back at all the crazy ass shit that happened in 69. That song sends fucking chills through my spine. And the end of the album with you cant always get what you want, i think the album starts with some deep, kind of menacing song but ends with this shining light? i dunno how to explain what im trying to say i hope you understand what im saying. I think everyone near the end of the 60s needed that shining light, and let it bleed is symbolic of that. 

5. Are You Experienced// The Jimi Hendrix Experience 

- Jimi Hendrix was one of the first artists to capatalize off of guitar based music (if that makes sense this is getting really long and im starting to ramble). I’m not saying he was the first person to have cool guitar solos or do any intricate playing (he low key was though) but he really revolutionized the way rock music was being played at the time and was one of the game changers. I firmly believe that without him and the music he made, music of the late 60′s and even 70s wouldnt have been what it was. 

6. Led Zeppelin II// Led Zeppelin

- okay im really torn between putting this album on the list. Because when I think of Zeppelin i don’t really think of the 60s because they are The band of the 70s ya know ? I was tempted to put this album in the 70s section of this ask but i feel like people would give me flack for that. I think this album really shows where music was heading going into the 70s. They pioneered that hard rock sound ya know ? I think this album, like let it bleed, is a good indicator for where music was heading. also cant forget about the wack ass lyrics that are in that album, talking about balls and shit how Foul. 

1970s

1. All Things Must Pass// George Harrison 

- if u really thought we weren’t gonna talk abt my fucking baby ur mistaken :((((((. I think this album is such a good example of music in the early 70s, still clinging to a bit of that 60s, peace and love vibe while also making a rock record. I guess the two biggest examples of that would be something like I dig love anf then comparing that to out of the blue. Its definitely got that 60s flare but there’s so much more depth ya know ? george is the best pls block me if u think otherwise bc ur crusty 

2. Dark Side of The Moon// Pink Floyd

- yes. i know this ablum is basic. but its still a good representation of music that defined the 70s. Floyd was the biggest success with the whole psychedelic rock thing, they made it enjoyable for everyone and i think that can be seen in dsotm. 

3. IV// Led Zeppelin

- You know why.

4. Talking Book// Stevie Wonder

- was tempted to put songs in the key of life but… i like talking book better lol. Any of his albums made in the 70s could be considered decade defining albums. Mans got incredible talent, and his lyrics spoke to a wide variety of people i think ? also the combination of funk and soul that hes famous for can later be seen in disco music. I think his music in general just speaks to a lot of people, and a lot of musicians take inspiration from him

5. Rumours// Stevie Nicks

- im gonna be up front with this one, everyone fuck with stevie and i bet u dont know anyone who doesnt like dreams or the chain. shit slaps what else can i say 

6. The Eagles// The Eagles

- The eagles are like the poster child for american rock (more specifically, west coast rock), which became popular in the 70s. I dunno when i think of the 70s i think of driving down the highway and when i think of driving down the highway i think of the eagles, its just common knowledge 

7. London Calling// The Clash

- similar to my problems with putting zeppelin ii in the 60s category, i thnk london calling really belongs in the 80s section maybe ? actually no, i think this album is a good synopsis of the punk movement that started in the mid/late 70s and then carried into the 80s 

1980′s

time for the sad boissssss

1. The Smiths// The Smiths

- god this melancholy fucker. personally this is my favorite smiths album, you could argue that the queen is dead is more impactful and youre probably right. But i think their first album brings the sadness to the forefront ya know ? like they were one of the first sad boi bands and i respect that shit. Also think this album is like the poster child for a sad teenager in the 80s, and god knows there were a lot of those weirdos. 

2. Purple Rain// Prince

- personally… controversy is my favorite prince album but we wont discuss. This album is so widely popular i grew up on this shit. like every song on it is a banger and defintely splits the line between pop and rock, something we see a lot when looking into music from the 80s 

3. Like A Virgin// Madonna 

- madonna was the first pop princess idc this album is like 80s pop defined. shes amazing, this album is amazing, what else can i say? im right :)

ive been typing for a long time im sorry im gonna end this now i hope this is good enough :( luv u and i hope u enjoyed my thoughts. also i cut a lot of albums out bc i didnt want to make it too long but :((((( okay bye

[phil-and-a-corgi]

highschool bandfic in a nutshell - chapter 2

chapter 1

rating: t/m (swearing and also irene’s writing.)

word count: um i dont know a lot ( 2083 )

summary: uhh we have that on the first page

here if you want to read it here then here you go materinos(doesn’t include behind the scenes bants though

here read it on google docs yeah i know so professional(this one has behind the scenes banter)

SECOND CHAPTER (2)

(written by renee @dan-and-a-shibe - pete’s pov)

after finally putting on my eyeliner (i had no time to do it this morning and i looked like a garbage can filled with shit on fire) i hopped off the sink counter. sighing and putting my MAC charcoal liner back into my bag.i dabbed just a wee bit of eyeshadow because WHY THE FUCK NOT. the bell rang, signalling that i was late for first period. why do i let a bell, a mere beep for 5 seconds control where i go and when i go. it just shows how even though everyone tries to be themselves that everyone ends up being dragged by the trends of society. so i decided to sit in the background and look through tumblr. on my phone. ten minutes of scrolling through poetry and kittens. i should get going now. so i did. i walked into mr armstrong’s class.

“mr wentz may i ask why you’re late.” he asked, jokingly in a teacher’s voice. “sorry it’s required to ask that” he whispered, winking at the class.

“i know why, because he was busy being a GAYLORD”(dh quote) that try hard kid justin bieber teased.

“ok justin please explain how your bleached hair isn’t gayer than his amazing eyeliner.” mr amstrong retorted back as the whole class “oohed” at justin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(written by Irene - @feckboy69-aol - frank’s pov)

Fuck Ms. O-Conner. Fuck her class. It's the only class that I don't have with my beloved Gee and the rest of the guys I hung out with and the only class where the teacher actually expects me to do shit. Like okay, maybe there’s some nice chicks in this class and I sit in the back next to a window where I can stare out of and think of my beloved, beautiful Gee, but so what? Lorde’s (yeah, that's what her preferred name was, what a joke) a fucking bore. Honestly, so would this school be, if not for my beloved, precious, beautiful Gee and the shit going on with Ryan and Beebs’ tea drama. Oh, that and the whole of Beaver’s crowd; it was fun watching them get owned by literally everyone here.

Anyway, English class. Lorde Bitchface was screaming about the importance of “putting emotion into your poems” and using “meaningful symbolism” to give your writing “depth” like the edgy bitch she was, so I just tuned her ugly mug out as usual, grabbing my notebook and turning to a fresh page. I gripped the #2 mechanical pencil in my hands and let my mind wander and think about my beloved, adorable, precious, and beautiful Gee, which wasn't very hard. I thought about the last time we had made out (in the bathroom near Bitchface’s class in the stall that no one used) and let my hand draw what I thought. I never was a good artist, but my beloved, handsome, adorable, precious, and beautiful Gee had taught me a couple things (some about art, some about other things), so I had become pretty good. I concentrated for a good 5-7 minutes on the drawing, making every line count, and then smirked to myself at the finished masterpiece. It was stunning; well Gee was.

“Ah… Mr. Iero, why don't you tell us?” said Lorde Bitchface, looking at me with that stupid fucking teacher look that Mr. Armstrong had copied perfectly from her and would use to joke around. But I, being me, tried to pass it off with a smartass answer, something I always did that got on the bitch’s nerves.

“See now I would, but I don't do things like that for free,” I said, giving her a mischievous look. Several girls in front of me (except Hayley, that sassy lassy, who just rolled her eyes and went back the crap that Bitchface was teaching) turned around and giggled, playing with their hair in a vain attempt to try and get my attention. They knew about Gee and me; the whole school did (that's a story for another time), but they still thought they could get me. But I played along anyway, winking at them and giving them the Frank Iero Famous smoulder. The girls seemed impressed, but Bitchface clearly wasn't, her ugly face (okay, I knew she wasn't ugly, she probably got a lot of action actually with that figure, but I despised her so fuck off) morphing into one of disgusting bitch anger, her nose and eyebrows scrunched up and her lips pursed into a tight, white line. I knew she was about to blow, when a kid sitting all the way up in the front who I didn't even know existed until he spoke his next words (that would definitely be his last if I ever found him alone in a dark hallway, by the way) said, “He's being inappropriate and drawing repulsing images in his notebook, Ms. Lorde. I saw him when I went to sharpen my pencil, Ms. Lorde,”

He then turned around and smirked at me, his wavy ginger hair following him as he did, an aura of smugness about him that I did not appreciate.

I saw the anger drain from Lorde Bitchface’s face and have it replaced with a look of calmness that was actually more efficient in scaring people than her anger.

Fucking asshole, I thought, momentarily losing my cool before reminding myself that I was Frank Iero and bitches wished they could kiss the ground I walked on with their crusty-ass, chapped as fuck lips.

So when that fucking whore of a teacher gave me detention, I simply smiled and said a cheeky, “Can't get enough of me as it is, Lorde? Not that I can't see why you wouldn't want more of this,” running my hands through my hair, knowing that this was definitely gonna make the ugly hag throw a fit, which would be far more amusing than if I had just accepted the offer of yet another detention.

It worked; I got sent to the principal's office, but like hell I was actually gonna go there. I smiled to myself as I walked outside the door, giving Bitchface a cheeky salute as I went out, not staying long enough for her to scream more shit at me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(written by renee @dan-and-a-shibe - ray’s pov)

geez well this is frank's seventh detention this week and it's only wednesday. how is that even possible. well, lorde's most recent detention got him a saturday detention for the whole day and i knew he was supposed to go hang out with gee. gerard would be heartbroken if he couldn't make it to their next date. they have date night in saturday. i had to convince lorde to get him out of detention. she hadn't hated me yet, so i had a chance. while we were supposed to be writing deep poetry, i went up to her desk.

                 “hey um, ms lorde, uh sorry about frank. his family isn't really okay at the moment, and well, he's been acting up. more than usual. his parents have been really hard on him, especially with the detentions. i hope you can withdraw the multiple detentions from the past three days. don't mention this to him, or anyone else. please.” truth was that franks family wasn't doing to well but they weren't being hard on him, they didn't care anymore.

          lorde paused for a moment. “ok then, ill withdraw the detentions. only for this week. why don't you go down to the office and tell him this detentions are withdrawn.” i knew i could do it. most ladies have more vulnerable emotions, they’re more sensitive. and that's why women are so great. and now he only had three after school detentions..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(written by Irene - @feckboy69-aol - tyler’s pov)

It was lunch for the Sophomores, so as usual, I was trying to find my best fren Josh Dun. It was strange, he wasn't anywhere to be seen, when usually I could spot his vibrant colored hair in any crowd (it was a bright yellow today). So when I entered the large circular shaped cafeteria, and didn't see him, I started to panic a bit.

He was there in the morning, we walked here together, he was there in first period, I saw him when I went to go to the bathroom, he was there during third period because I was there with him, oh no, he got kidnaped… he got bullied he's in a locker somewhere stuck I have to go, he's hurt I have to sav-

“Tyler!” I heard someone scream from behind me, interrupting my very important thoughts about Jishwa. I turned around in pure panic, ready for the news that was going to be solemnly sorrowful; news about Jishwa’s untimely death.

Alas, it was only Jenna Joseph Black, a pleasant surprise at that. I smiled in spite of my internal mental struggle, watching Jenna smiling and running up to me. The cafeteria was now starting to fill up, with cliques of people banding together in their own respectable tables, as usual.

Jenna grinned at me, giving me a friendly greeting. I didn't want her to get worried for my stupid overthinking habit. She wrapped her arm around my shoulder, leading me to our lunch table which consisted of me, Jish, her, Hayley (Kiyoko) Adam, Jack, and Ryan. The others weren't there yet, me and Jen usually arrived early, Josh not too far behind us, with the rest walking together, usually bringing some mundane news about whatever they considered important in their lives. Usual conversations involved Jack and his frens coming in with their loud but awkward selves, Hayley not too far behind them, her hands crossed in silent disapprovement at almost everyone and everything. They all would then come in to our table, interrupting the meaningful conversations that Jen, Jish and I would be having, usually conversations about the possibility (or plausibility) of whether coconut sharks could or not exist, (if they did exist, where would they be swimming?) with talk about the latest song from so-and-so’s band or whether Ryan and Brendon would ever get back together, or at least make up.

But that's not what exactly happened today because Jen, ever the one to notice and care, gave me a caring concerned look that depicted exactly how much she cared and was concerned about me and Jish, her eyes gleaming in the bright-lighted cafeteria, her mouth morphing into a depressing frown.

“Where's Jish?” She inquired, the proportions of her face perfectly in line, to the point where she made everyday curiosity look like it was the epitome of perfection, suddenly standing up, probably (or plausibly) realizing that if Jish were here, he would be right now.

I slouched further into my seat, gulping, my throat feeling dry, “I don't Jen… I don't know…”  

[ohshanksno]

Recently I've seen an increase in Russian-based language (at least it looks Russian) one piece blogs dedicated to one piece fan-art. However, the art seem to be 'posts' and not reblogs. The posts are also with no sources. I reblogged a few of their art until I realised it's impossible that these are the actual artists (too differing art style from one post to the next). Isn't it annoying/harmful to the artists?

This might be a little long, so sorry about that.

I have seen some of these floating around tumblr. One blog that was recommended to me was a Marco-based blog, and when I scrolled through the art, each and every piece was completely different. And not only that, they weren’t sourced at all, and that really bugged me. I think one of them was @tanktrunk ‘s Marco? I’m not sure, but I recognized the style instantly…I know I saw it somewhere before…hmm. I have a hazy memory, forgive me. ;-;

I don’t know exactly why they’re Russian based. I do know that some artists out here do in fact speak Russian and post their own art, and their comments are in Russian. Why reposters went with Russian, I have not a clue…hmm….Now, before we get to my rant, if you know the source of the repost, do your best to state that in the post! If you don’t, then ask around, or browse through and still try and give it a source. Chances are you may go to the artist and tell them. Everyone does things differently. I don’t really understand how reposts work…

In all honestly, reposts are harmful and annoying. It bugs me a lot that people would do some crazy stuff like that. An artist spends a lot of time, and effort, and possibly money, in some cases, for paints and oils and such, and have the kind heart to post it on the internet for their fanbase to see. I know that some blogs I’ve breezed through literally state in their bio statement, sometimes in huge caps: DO NOT REPOST MY ART.

There’s a reason for an artist to literally state that in every post they make, or in their statements. They don’t have to tell you why. What they expect from us is that we respect their boundaries. They’re human just as much as we are. Reblogs and likes only.

I know one blog I lurk around on is @abd-illustrates (they make such lovely art, and sometimes I’ll go on there and say hello! I haven’t stopped by as of late, I wonder how they’re doing???) and in every art post they make, you can literally see the words ‘do not repost my art’ because they went through that before. I think they were having a really hard time with it, too, because the reposter was being stubborn. I might be wrong about this! Guh, I hate my memory. 

Another person I talk to every once a while on anon is @bathyspheric and someone reposted their stuff too. They were really upset because it was some of their graphics, and she literally compared them side by side, and hers was more clearer and cleaner than the repost. I noticed the difference, because the repost was pretty bad. They make some hella good graphics! I love them so much because it gives me warm feelings, ahaha….

Reposting is bad. It’s wrong. I know people do it because they really like the piece or some other odd reason, but doing that is just wrong. It’s stealing. Stealing someone’s work just because you want to use it for something is wrong. (Sometimes, you can ask! Asking would not kill anyone! Asking is better than just going off based on instinct. And if they say yes, ALWAYS, always give them credit. Please. No need to be a crusty ass just because their name/waterwork signature ruins your aesthetics.)

A good example that my mum explained to me once, is a project. Let’s say that you were doing a really cool project, like, robot making. You programmed this really cool robot, and you gave it a design, and a name–you went all out on this project. And on the day of presenting your project, some random student comes up and takes your place. They don’t do anything, they just go to your seat and present it to the judges, and got first place. But it’s your project that you worked on and they don’t know that. Of course, you’re upset, and you try and claim it back, but the judges find it hard to believe it was yours in the first place. And then it just becomes a huge mess because you have to prove it was yours.

Like I’ve said, it’s wrong. Just ask, and if they say no, leave it at that. There’s no need to start a whole entire play directed by idiots just because an artist said no. (which is why most artists have their names or waterworks hidden in their art nowadays (i.e. backgrounds or blended in) so therefore you can’t say it’s yours) Some artists go to art as a source of income, and reposting their income to other sites can really lower their courage and confidence to post any more works. I’ve heard stories of people actually giving up on art because of reposters, and hasn’t been back since.

Don’t repost people’s art, guys. Just ask. If they say no, just. leave. it. alone. Please. And source your fucking shit if it isn’t yours!

Art is like an essay. If you don’t source it, and you know it’s not yours, you can get in trouble for that. Everyone writes/draws differently. So don’t repost. 

Okay, thanks for coming by, anon. I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. That was a bit I wanted to get off my chest. If there’s something you’d like to add to this, you can!

[deojoon]

...

i have no title for this but it’s an unfinished yoonji fic i started but have no motivation to finish. but this is all requested by an anonie ! thank you so much. and i always have an extra fic laying around. some of them are just cringy or unfinished. im currently writing a ot7 smut feast and its a bit yikes im working on it yall sudden enough ill be the next maya banks (an erotica author) regardless i hope you enjoy.

It was strange--how you managed to attract the most unique people. Everyone, even you at first, thought it was. With your luck, it’s the bad type of uniques most of the time. The ones that believe you to be more of a sexual object rather an actual person.

 A good example would be the one time, a guy told you his cum would go beautifully with your mocha skin or that girl who asked you to crush her head with your thighs.

You really wondered the common sense of people these days because your “friends”, you kept attracting made you decide to take a class in mixed martial arts. Then the instructor blatantly tried to grab your ass. (Let’s just say he can’t teach anymore with the carnage you did on him) And this all . happened during the same 4-year period of High School. Imagine how excited you were in college.

 You decided to double major in audio engineering and economics--until junior year came around. You were just walking to your music theory class by a crowd of people, minding your business. But of course, fate loves to fuck you in the asshole and someone turns around and blocks you from going to your class.

 “You can’t pass here,” a crusty man said.

 You simply rolled your eyes and spoke softly. “I have class this way. I’d appreciate if you would move.”

 As you spoke you got the attention of the group.

 “Oh hey! this is that smart girl with no friends. Maybe we’ll have a chance” one of the crusty group mates said.

 Your eye twitched, because you don’t talk in classes doesn’t mean you don’t have friends such stupidity makes you irritated. “I’m going to ask again. Can you please move so I can get to my class”?

 The crusty man's friends start to crowd you. You think at one point they all were talking about how they all wanted a piece. You looked at them bored waiting for one of them to move.

 Your blood was boiling, your tongue moved across the gums in that space between the flap of your mouth. You fucking wanted to fight. But as an adult now, if you hit, it’d be more than expulsion you could get if you threw the first punch. Unfortunately for them, two men who were walking by stopped to help you.

 “Excuse me.” A lengthy boy with a bend in his spine made the space silent immediately. “She said ‘can you move’. It wasn't really a question. Step aside.”

 And with that, Crusty and the boys are murmuring apologies and trying to zip away, refusing to make anymore eye contact with the tall guy and his friend

At this point you were past the point of irritation. You walked over to the crusty bunch and quickly grabbed one of the members arm , threw one of them over your shoulder with the same blank expression on your face. “Will you move now?” With the same soft voice you asked.

As thy watched you in fear throw the leader of the group they quickly apologized and left.

The two boys looked you surprised. It was unexpected and out the the blue.

The tall dimpled boy thought once he saved you you would be grateful not irritated. The tall guys friend saw once his friend Namjoon approach you, your irritation got worse.

You turned around and looked at the two “Thank you for trying to help but I got it” with that being said you turned around and walked to your class.

You walk into your music theory class and sat down, you see and realize the two boys from before are in the same class. You sigh and pretend to pay attention. When you do you catch the words “online,tomorrow, due” you’ll look at the notes online no big deal.

After the professor dismisses the class, you get up to go to a club interest meeting

You then see the two boys walking over to you. You wanted to cry. Not because they are attractive, even though they are that’s not that reason for it. To put it in simple terms you hate people.

As the two approaches, you quickly say before anyone of them can talk “Can I help you?”

The dimple boy kind of looked simple minded. He looked confused. “We uh I mean I wanna apologize for earlier and for pissing you off”

The other boy hit the dimpled boy while talking to correct himself.

“I’m yoongi and the one apologizing is Namjoon” the other boys name you now learned is yoongi.

You nodded “you guys didn’t do anything wrong just caught me at a bad time” you said gently

-(finish later)

 They nod and lead you off campus to a house.

You walk in and set your stuff down. For the next five hours y'all worked on the project. Getting all the necessary research out of the way. You asked where the bathroom was and got up to pee.

As you open the bathroom door you see a small figure using the bathroom. You blink.  “My apologies” You walk back to the tables Namjoon and Yoongi were working at.

“So you guys have other roommates? Specifically, one that looks like Yoongi?”

Yoongi quickly looks up and curses “ah shit yeah sorry did she do anything mean to you? That’s my sister”

“No, but I walked into the bathroom while she was in there. I still have to pee but I’ll wait.”

Namjoon chuckled a bit. “I have a sister too call her Nami. You kinda have the same attitude as them”

You looked over at him and blinked “oh really? That’s interesting”

As you said that another girl comes out and rubbing her eyes only wearing a tank top and underwear. “Joonie could you keep it down I’m trying to sleep” she whined. The girl that you assumed is Nami.

Namjoon sighed. “Could you at least put out some pants? We have a guest.”

Nami finally looks up and sees you she started giggling. “ Oh~ a pretty one!” She runs over to you and starts nuzzling into your neck.

You looked at both Namjoon and Yoongi with a bored expression.

Namjoon got up and attempted to pull her off you. “No! Joonie this one is mines.You can’t have her! Fine your own.  Yoonji baby! There’s a cutie out here.”

Yoongi started apologizing to you. “I’m sorry about this”

You told him it’s okay. “It’s fine matter of fact- “

Yoonji came out and You get cut-off by her point pervert towards you.

“She opened the door while I was in the bathroom”

“Ooo~ you like looking? I can show you mines if I can see yours. Yoonji will join, too right?”

You already looked so done but wrap your arms around Nami and whisper in her ear “I’d love to gorgeous but I’m a bit busy here maybe later”

Surprising both Namjoon and Yoongi they both look at each other and walk away leaving you with their siblings.

“So, what’s your name pervert,” Yoonji asks

“Y/n, I’m gonna assume that your Yoonji and this is Nami” You responded

“Wait you’re y/n?” Nami asked seriously.

Nami voice is almost like a warm blanket wrap around you. While yoonji’s voice it cool , crisp like a breathe of air.

Kind of distracted.

[letterstoocean]

my ocean, 

more re writes of our story....

“You never told me why you always chew on rose stems.”

“I thought I had.”

“Nope. The last time you started we were interrupted; and every time you tried to pick the conversation back up you were cut off.  It was kind of funny.  Remember?  You were drunk and walked outside mumbling about how conversation was a dying art?”  

“Oh yeah.  Conversation is a dying art, by the way. Let me get a new drink then I’ll try to tell it. That story tends to choke me up so I’m not telling it without one.”

“You gather your thoughts.  I’ll grab the drink.”

“And shots!” I yell as she walks in the kitchen.

She returns with a fresh cocktail and two shot glasses full of red absinthe.  We drink the shots and I sit back.

“Okay, where to begin.  Hey, write this down or record it.  I don’t think I want to tell this story more than once.”

She hits record on the tape recorder and sits back, legs tucked under her for warmth.

“Where to begin?  Where to begin?  Actually, I should begin with two very nice old ladies that ran a small bodega in Pearland, Texas…”

Rose Stems and the Black Queen

The only time I ate was at school.  So if I skipped school I didn’t eat. Didn’t stop me from skipping school, I just had to find different ways to get food.

I was walking to school when I ran into a group of bullies that had been tormenting me since I arrived in Pearland.  Bullies always have a leader and as I walked closer to them he smiled in anticipation of either chasing or catching me.  I saw him mouth to his buddies, “look who it is.”   So I ducked into the first door I saw.  They stood outside and waited; all good bullies know not to start anything in a building. Grownups always break it up or inform their parents.

I turned around, saw that I was in a small grocery store and looked around while waiting for them to leave.  Eventually, one lady came out from behind the counter and asked if I needed any help. I’m not sure why but I pretended to be deaf and dumb. The lady gave me a sincere smile, grabbed a pen and paper and wrote the question down again.  I wrote back that I was hungry but not sure what I wanted.

She wrote back, TAKE WHAT YOU WANT SWEETIE.

I grabbed one of the homemade sandwiches from the cooler and fumbled around in my pockets pretending to look for money that wasn’t there.  

DON’T WORRY ABOUT MONEY.  YOU COME BACK WHENEVER YOU ARE HUNGRY.

Every day after school I would stop and write a poem for them or give them a drawing and they would feed me.  All the while I pretended that I was deaf and dumb.  I wasn’t mean to the ladies.  I never took more than they offered but I did feel guilty about what I was doing.  It didn’t stop me from doing it.  I was hungry; and the bullies would never follow me into the bodega.

One day before school, the bullies were chasing me and I was nowhere near the bodega or the school so I ran into a Safeway grocery store to hide and to wait them out.  I decided to make myself a sandwich while I was in the store and as I opened a bag of Wonder Bread to get a couple of slices I heard a woman behind me yell “hey!”  Startled, I jumped and spun around expecting an employee to pounce on me. Instead it was one of the ladies from the bodega.  “Oh shit!” Then I realized that I had jumped when she yelled. I ran out of the store and through the group of kids waiting for me, knocking two of them on their asses as I did.  

I honestly believe that I ran faster from that lady than I ever ran from the kids.  I really did hate lying to her and now I was caught. I didn’t want to face that fact.  It wasn’t like the lady was going to chase me out of the store.  

I ran in the opposite direction of school; since the bell would ring soon the bullies broke off their pursuit.  I slowed down enough to walk into a barbershop to hide.

Never run through a doorway.

Always walk in with some sort of confidence.

Confidence is a damn good weapon to have.

Running through a doorway into someones world lets them know you are scared and don’t care if they know it.

That’s a secret you can’t afford to let out.

The lessons that Gary: The Convict Next Door (another story for another time) taught me rang in my head and I stood in the doorway and smiled.  

“Have a seat, yard ape.” Said a leathery old man sharpening a straight razor on a white belt attached to the barber’s chair.

Sitting in the chair was an old black man with a mess of white hair and matching sideburns.  He had a black pipe clenched between his teeth and white smoke drifted from between them.

Next to the big bay window that looked out on to the street, two men sat at a table staring at the pieces on a chess board. One of them looked exactly like the man sitting in the barber chair.  The other man was white; he wore a black suit with a string tie like the jazz musicians wore in New Orleans.  He was very tan with long black hair that was showing some gray.  He had it tied back with a leather cord.  A small stick stuck out of his mouth and twitched from one side to the other as he stared at the chess board.

I looked at the door thinking maybe it was better to run after all; but after a moment, I decided old smoky men were safer than young angry bullies and walked over to the bench.

“Relax, we’re all friends here.”  Said the black man as he moved one of the chess pieces and then sat back and lit his pipe.  “So what brings you to the barber shop?  Since you should be in school?”

I began to elaborate one of the many lies that just seemed to roll off my tongue; instead I shrugged my shoulders and looked at my feet.

“I’m going to guess it was those other yard apes chasing you up and down the street all the time.”  Said the long haired chess player.

“Yes sir.”  

“Well,” said the man moving a chess piece and sitting back, “You’re safe here.”

The barber stopped shaving the man and took a long look at me.  “Is that him?”  he asked going back to his task at hand.

“That’s the little artist. Not a very good actor though.” Said the white guy.  He looked at me, the small stick held between his teeth. “The ladies know you aren’t deaf.  Felt sorry for you.  I can see why. Seen you wearing those same clothes for a month now.”

The barber brushed the seat off, put a smooth white board across the arms and smacked it.

“Have a seat, get that mop cut.  Name’s Clive.  What’s yours?”

“Christophe, and I’m sorry, but I don’t have any money.”

“Didn’t ask for any.  Now hop up here.”

As Clive worked his way through hair that hadn’t been cut in two years I watched the two men play chess.

“The black man is Anthony.  His twin over there is Timothy; call him Tim.” They both nodded at me. “The crusty Italian is Giovanni.”  Clive said as the scissors snipped away.

“What are you chewing on?”  I asked Giovanni.

“Don’t be a yard ape and maybe I will tell you.”

“What’s a yard ape?” I asked through pursed lips as Clive cut my bangs and little hairs fell on my lips.

“You are.” He replied.

“All done.” Said Clive pulling the cape away with a swoosh and brushing the hair off my neck with a very stiff brush.  He brought a jar full of Dum-Dum suckers down from the shelf, opened it and offered me one. I took a green one, said thank you and returned to the bench.

I quietly sat watching men come and go.  Some received haircuts; others sat on the bench chatting with me.  Around noon a large woman stopped by with a gigantic pot of spaghetti and meatballs.  She set the pot down on a TV tray that was stored in the back room.  She counted the number of men and got as many plates.  She scooped out lunch and passed it around.  

Then she looked over at me above the rim of her glasses.  Sniffed, scooped some spaghetti out, looked me up and down and scooped some more.  She thrust the plate under my chin, “someone should have been feeding this boy.  Look how skinny he is.”

The plate had to weigh five pounds as I set it on my lap and dug in. Halfway through my meal my stomach felt like it was going to burst. The other men were taking their empty plates to the large woman to be cleaned.  I looked around for some help and no one looked me in the eye.  The woman shook a finger at the plate and I kept going.

Somehow, I finished it all and wound up falling asleep on the bench.  I didn’t hear the woman leave; I didn’t hear people come and go.  I couldn’t remember the last time I slept that well.

I felt a hand shake me awake as a voice laughed.

“Wake up, yard ape.  Time to close shop.”

I sat up rubbed sleep from my eyes and looked around.  The lights were out and Clive stood at the front door with keys in hand.  Giovanni stood over me smiling.  

“My sister’s pasta has killed men.  If it didn’t kill them it made them meet their god.  Never seen a yard ape finish a plate the first time.  You stick around and she will kill you or make you strong enough to take care of those that chase you.  But for today it’s time to head home.  Where do you live and I will give you a ride.”

I automatically began to lie.  I never told anyone where I lived in case they wanted to talk to my mom.  Since she was never home they may put two and two together and wind up putting me in a foster home or worse.  I stopped myself and told him I could walk home.  

“I need to walk the food off.”

“I don’t believe you.  Tell me where you live or I’ll let Tressa feed you another plate.”

I told him.

For the next week I hung out at the barber shop.  I didn’t have to worry about school calling home because we didn’t own a phone and I didn’t know where mom was so there was no worry there.  They never asked about school.  They never asked about home.  They fed me; they let me read what I wanted.   They didn’t ask questions.  Every day at noon Tressa showed up with a pile of food.  Some days she would bring a jug of wine that had orange peels in it.  It had to be the sweetest best tasting thing I had ever had in my life.

I didn’t think about school or the bullies.  One day before Giovanni arrived Clive told me that they knew one of the kids parents and Giovanni had one of his talks with them.  

“His talks can be very persuasive.  I don’t think you have to worry about those kids anymore.”

Giovanni began to teach me how to play chess.  He was very patient as he taught me; usually allowing me to make the mistake, taking my piece, and then explaining how I messed up.  He reminded me a lot of my Uncle Robin. One day when Giovanni and I were setting up the board. He paused, “Christophe, Tressa is here.  Help here bring in the food.  I’ll set your side up.”  That was the first time he didn’t call me yard ape.  

Clive and the Giovanni were the only people in the barber shop that day.  I don’t think a single person came through the door until Tressa showed up. She greeted me with a big wet kiss on the cheek and then shoved a box that smelled like Italian heaven into my arms.  She followed behind me with a small plate covered with a silver dome.  

She grabbed one plate; Giovanni coughed and held up two fingers.  Tressa raised an eyebrow but said nothing and made the second plate.  We ate in silence, I felt I shouldn’t say anything until an adult did and the adults said nothing.  Clive left with Tressa and it was just Giovanni and me sitting at the chess board.

“Never interrupt a respectable elder when they are telling a good story.” He put the stick back between his teeth. “Remember that.  Now then, you are not family.  But you are an old dying soul in a very young dirty body.  I’m dying and perhaps it is this fact that lets me tell you this story.”

He tapped the table with his hand, staring at the chess board; gathering his thoughts before he spoke.  He did this all the time.  

“We all fall in love.” He held up a finger. “Once.”  He took the stick out and held it between his fingers.  “My love was Canda.  We met in Italy as teenagers.  We fell in love, we danced and we married.  We were going to grow old together.”

He grabbed the black queen off the board and turned it slowly in his fingers.

“I took over the family business.  We moved to America.  We became rich. Every day of our lives together when I came home from the killing and corruption, I would pledge my love for her and give her a rose.”

He grew silent and kept turning the queen around in his fingers.

“She died, didn’t she?” I asked, knowing the answer.

“Yes, yes, of course she did.  All good love stories have a death in them or they would not be good love stories.”

He passed the black queen over to me and gently slid the rest of the pieces off of the board.

“You win.”  Then with a deep sigh he said, “I chew on these because on her death bed she told me our love would not die even after she did.” He pulled the stem from his lips and held it just like he held the black queen.

“I chew on rose stems to remind me of Canda and that love doesn’t die. That love is always there on the lips to be said, or shared.”

I tell M—to stop the recorder.  I sit and stare at the floor.  I stare at the ceiling.  I stare at m—trying to come up with words that make the story sound beautiful.  To make it a writers story. But I find I can’t speak for awhile and for some reason I have to stop myself from crying.

“He died.  He died before we moved. A couple of days after that dinner. That day was his wife’s birthday, by the way.  I went to the barber shop and Clive told me Giovanni was shot in his home the night before.  ‘Revenge for what he had done in his youth.”

“On my way home, I stopped in the same Safeway and opened a chess set. I stole the black queen out of it and went home; trying not to cry for fear that mom’s roommate would see me and do something horrible.”

“Whenever I had the chance, I would buy or cut a rose out of someone’s garden, dry it out and hold it between my teeth.  I was trying to let Giovanni’s ghost know that his love would never die as long as I was around to remember it.  Now I don’t feel right unless I have a rose stem close to me, in my pocket or clenched between my teeth. Maybe its how I keep love near me.”

She heard him crying and slowly walked into the room.  He had pushed the laptop off the desk, onto the floor and had his head buried in his arms, the sobs coming hard.

She walked behind him, put her hand on his back, “Shhhh.”

“I. I. I. Can't do this.” He said sitting up. “I just can't!” he sobbed wrapping his arms around her waist and crying into her chest.

She embraced him, stroked his hair and whispered, “Shhhh. I am here my river. I am here.”

After several minutes of silence she asked, “Want me to read it?”

He laughed, wiped the tears from his eyes and replied, “Of course, you have to tell me if is any good or not.  You know, famous writer and shit!!  Gotta make sure it is good.” he laughed again.  

She grabbed his chin and raised it up so he could see her face.

“God, you are so beautiful.” he said with more tears falling from his eyes.

“Hey? Listen.”

He smiled.

“This is not about publishing this right now.  This is about getting it out.  Getting it all out.  You hear me.”

He smiled, nodded and stood up.

“The story is yours now.” he said.

Laughing, she picked up the laptop off the floor. “If this still works that is.”

“Willow is on the porch.  Go.  I will come get you when I am done.”  

As he was walking out the door she stopped him.

“Hey.  Don't go downstairs and try to write about us. I know you want to. Just sit on the porch and breathe.”

She was smiling, but the stern voice was there. He called it her Powerhouse Thunder Goddess voice.  He smiled, “when you say it like that, love, I don't have an option. But have you met me?  You know I am going to”

“I know. I love you my river.”

He came back over, put his fingertips to her cheeks, kissed her head, nose, lips and put his head on hers. “I love you, my ocean.”

He left the room and left her with the story.

[weedconsortium2]

If you’ve never listened to Chris Webby’s music–you should. In a world where the hip-hop arena is dominated by trappers and mumble rappers with tattoos on their faces and little substance to their lyrics, Webby’s well-rounded bars shine like a beacon in the dark.

Webby became a viral star last year after dropping an amazing freestyle over Dr. Dre’s “What’s The Difference” during an interview with Sway Calloway on SiriusXM. He killed it, dissing “new school” MCs and slaying crooked policy-makers:

Remember the name, C-Web, I spit sickly, I got my competition breathing hard as Chris Christie.

Beyond free-styling, Webby is a great writer. A good intro to his music can be found in his “Raw Thoughts” series, a rap trilogy where he lists all the people he does not like and explains his reasons. In the first song of this trilogy, Webby puts “scummy politicians”—as he calls them—to shame.

It’s hard not to crack up over his slick burns, as he calls the former anti-weed Attorney General Jeff Sessions an “old Smurf,” promising to “light up a doobie” on his “turf.”

As one explores Webby’s music, it’s obvious this guy is all about weed. His albums Homegrown, The Checkup, and Wednesday all feature marijuana leaves on the cover art. Webby also recorded a few odes to pot, with his recent song “Sativa” featuring famous stoner B-Real of Cypress Hill:

This sh*t is sublime. Hit it and lift up your mind. The most specific of kinds, Particular strains I’m smoking during daytime Got me feeling high and energetic at the same damn time.

Feeling the urge to talk weed with this verbose, pot-loving rapper, High Times hit up Webby to meet up.

Webby’s Love of Weed

Webby says he grew up in a weed-friendly house. His dad was a musician, and his mom was a middle school teacher. They were respected members of the community and enjoyed a good ol’ joint every once in a while.

“I caught them when I was really young and, obviously, at the time they didn’t want me to smoke weed,” Webby tells High Times. “So, when they caught me in the eighth grade, they scolded me. They were right too. They explained my brain wasn’t done forming yet. Weed is for adults.”

But, as he got older, his love of pot could no longer be contained or hidden.

“Nowadays, I smoke weed with my parents,” he says. “I think that being in that sort of a household allowed me to realize marijuana isn’t a bad thing and that people like my mom, a school teacher for more than 30 years, a pillar of society, could use it and still be good, productive people.”

Over time, Webby didn’t just develop a love of weed and a passion for advocacy, he also developed a deep understanding of the strains that best work for him.

“There’s no doubt that different types of weed will put you in different types of places,” he says. “I have my bedtime weed, I have [my] when-I-want-to-write weed, I have a nice sativa for when it’s creative time, and a nice heavy indica when I’m ready to go to bed and just need something to help me get there.”

Best. Joint. Ever

Over a long conversation, Webby discussed politicians, opioids, his ADHD and use of Adderall, and many other topics. At one point, we decided to go for a classic cannabis enthusiast question: What’s the story of the best joint you’ve ever smoked?

“Well, that one’s a thinker,” he says. “Let me think for a while. In the meantime, let me tell you the story about the guy who taught me how to roll a joint. I was in high school and I went on vacation with my buddy Nick to an island called Bequia, in the Caribbean. It’s a very small island and his family knew somebody who lived there, so we went and stayed with them.”

“I remember we would walk around this island, we met everybody, and we befriended this young Rasta named Linton. I would say was probably about 25 [years-old] or so. Linton was the fucking man. He showed us around a bunch of nights and he was always rolling joints. Up to this point, I had remained pretty unsuccessful at rolling a good joint. Linton broke it down for me and he not only taught me how to roll a joint, [but] he also taught me how to roll a joint while on the move. We walked around town and he had me rolling joints until I got it right.”

“To this day, I still use Linton’s rolling technique.”

‘Yo, Hillary’

Moving away from cannabis, we returned to “Raw Thoughts” rap. In that song, Webby does not only destroys Jeff Sessions, but he also incinerates other well-known conservative politicians like Ted Cruz (whose face puts him in a “crappy mood”) and former Environmental Protection Agency Administrator Scott Pruitt—promising to “build a pipeline through his wooden kitchen cabinets.” At one point, Webby unexpectedly recites:

But, yo, Hillary. Really? You think that I wouldn’t mention you Just ’cause I tend to be liberal with all my general views? But you’re an evil lady; [I’ll] say it ’cause I got to. I’m down to have a woman President. Just not you! You Claire Underwood-ass bitch, you wicked witch Lyin’ through your fuckin’ teeth every single chance that you get…

We asked if he was really down to have a woman president. After all, “Raw Thoughts II” is a feminist-as-hell song:

Bill O’Reilly says he’s sorry but really none of us buy it, You can’t pay me off like all of those women to keep me quiet. Who cares if he denies it, I’ll still come for him… I’ll teach that old prick to treat women with respect When I jam a pair of stainless steel scissors in his neck… Old, gross, and crusty, outdated, and rusty, Out of shape and husky. Do you know how to tell if Bill O’Reilly’s near? When you hear a woman scream: “Don’t touch me!”

“Absolutely,” he unhesitantly responded. “I think a female in the White House could be a great thing. I think that Hillary Clinton is a very poor representation of what a female in America truly is; I think she is a corrupt politician like the rest of them… And, at that point, why even put a gender on it?”

“She is the same as them,” he continues. “She is a horrible person and horrible people cannot be defined by male and female. But I think a woman in the White House could actually be a great thing. I think women think differently [and] tend to be more compassionate [and] tend to sit back and think before they act a little bit more than testosterone-driven men… There are there are differences between men and women. I’m all for equal everything, but beyond all that there is the difference between a man and a female, going back to what we are as a species, before all this society stuff came into play.”

So, what about women in cannabis? What makes the cannabis industry more receptive to women? Why are there more C-Suite female executives in cannabis than in most other industries?

“I think the marijuana industry just attracts a lot of people like us; just cooler individuals who are just with it… Of course, women can be in charge of stuff. For me, that’s a no brainer.

“I think that’s one of the coolest things about marijuana: it brings cool people together. Through my life I’ve met some of the most incredible people through just smoking a joint.”

Keep up to date with all things Webby by following him on Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter.

The post Chris Webby Talks About Hillary Clinton and His Long Love Affair With Weed appeared first on High Times.

The post Chris Webby Talks About Hillary Clinton and His Long Love Affair With Weed appeared first on CBD Oil Vape Liquid Spray - Cbd Pain Relief Capsules - Weed Consortium.

from WordPress http://bit.ly/2HOyBAh via IFTTT

[growlegalweed-blog]

Legal Weed Resources

Check out... https://legalweed.gq/420/chris-webby-talks-about-hillary-clinton-and-his-long-love-affair-with-weed/

Chris Webby Talks About Hillary Clinton and His Long Love Affair With Weed

If you’ve never listened to Chris Webby’s music–you should. In a world where the hip-hop arena is dominated by trappers and mumble rappers with tattoos on their faces and little substance to their lyrics, Webby’s well-rounded bars shine like a beacon in the dark.

Webby became a viral star last year after dropping an amazing freestyle over Dr. Dre’s “What’s The Difference” during an interview with Sway Calloway on SiriusXM. He killed it, dissing “new school” MCs and slaying crooked policy-makers:

Remember the name, C-Web, I spit sickly, I got my competition breathing hard as Chris Christie.

Beyond free-styling, Webby is a great writer. A good intro to his music can be found in his “Raw Thoughts” series, a rap trilogy where he lists all the people he does not like and explains his reasons. In the first song of this trilogy, Webby puts “scummy politicians”—as he calls them—to shame.

It’s hard not to crack up over his slick burns, as he calls the former anti-weed Attorney General Jeff Sessions an “old Smurf,” promising to “light up a doobie” on his “turf.”

As one explores Webby’s music, it’s obvious this guy is all about weed. His albums Homegrown, The Checkup, and Wednesday all feature marijuana leaves on the cover art. Webby also recorded a few odes to pot, with his recent song “Sativa” featuring famous stoner B-Real of Cypress Hill:

This sh*t is sublime. Hit it and lift up your mind. The most specific of kinds, Particular strains I’m smoking during daytime Got me feeling high and energetic at the same damn time.

Feeling the urge to talk weed with this verbose, pot-loving rapper, High Times hit up Webby to meet up.

Webby’s Love of Weed

Webby says he grew up in a weed-friendly house. His dad was a musician, and his mom was a middle school teacher. They were respected members of the community and enjoyed a good ol’ joint every once in a while.

“I caught them when I was really young and, obviously, at the time they didn’t want me to smoke weed,” Webby tells High Times. “So, when they caught me in the eighth grade, they scolded me. They were right too. They explained my brain wasn’t done forming yet. Weed is for adults.”

But, as he got older, his love of pot could no longer be contained or hidden.

“Nowadays, I smoke weed with my parents,” he says. “I think that being in that sort of a household allowed me to realize marijuana isn’t a bad thing and that people like my mom, a school teacher for more than 30 years, a pillar of society, could use it and still be good, productive people.”

Over time, Webby didn’t just develop a love of weed and a passion for advocacy, he also developed a deep understanding of the strains that best work for him.

“There’s no doubt that different types of weed will put you in different types of places,” he says. “I have my bedtime weed, I have [my] when-I-want-to-write weed, I have a nice sativa for when it’s creative time, and a nice heavy indica when I’m ready to go to bed and just need something to help me get there.”

Best. Joint. Ever

Over a long conversation, Webby discussed politicians, opioids, his ADHD and use of Adderall, and many other topics. At one point, we decided to go for a classic cannabis enthusiast question: What’s the story of the best joint you’ve ever smoked?

“Well, that one’s a thinker,” he says. “Let me think for a while. In the meantime, let me tell you the story about the guy who taught me how to roll a joint. I was in high school and I went on vacation with my buddy Nick to an island called Bequia, in the Caribbean. It’s a very small island and his family knew somebody who lived there, so we went and stayed with them.”

“I remember we would walk around this island, we met everybody, and we befriended this young Rasta named Linton. I would say was probably about 25 [years-old] or so. Linton was the fucking man. He showed us around a bunch of nights and he was always rolling joints. Up to this point, I had remained pretty unsuccessful at rolling a good joint. Linton broke it down for me and he not only taught me how to roll a joint, [but] he also taught me how to roll a joint while on the move. We walked around town and he had me rolling joints until I got it right.”

“To this day, I still use Linton’s rolling technique.”

‘Yo, Hillary’

Moving away from cannabis, we returned to “Raw Thoughts” rap. In that song, Webby does not only destroys Jeff Sessions, but he also incinerates other well-known conservative politicians like Ted Cruz (whose face puts him in a “crappy mood”) and former Environmental Protection Agency Administrator Scott Pruitt—promising to “build a pipeline through his wooden kitchen cabinets.” At one point, Webby unexpectedly recites:

But, yo, Hillary. Really? You think that I wouldn’t mention you Just ’cause I tend to be liberal with all my general views? But you’re an evil lady; [I’ll] say it ’cause I got to. I’m down to have a woman President. Just not you! You Claire Underwood-ass bitch, you wicked witch Lyin’ through your fuckin’ teeth every single chance that you get…

We asked if he was really down to have a woman president. After all, “Raw Thoughts II” is a feminist-as-hell song:

Bill O’Reilly says he’s sorry but really none of us buy it, You can’t pay me off like all of those women to keep me quiet. Who cares if he denies it, I’ll still come for him… I’ll teach that old prick to treat women with respect When I jam a pair of stainless steel scissors in his neck… Old, gross, and crusty, outdated, and rusty, Out of shape and husky. Do you know how to tell if Bill O’Reilly’s near? When you hear a woman scream: “Don’t touch me!”

“Absolutely,” he unhesitantly responded. “I think a female in the White House could be a great thing. I think that Hillary Clinton is a very poor representation of what a female in America truly is; I think she is a corrupt politician like the rest of them… And, at that point, why even put a gender on it?”

“She is the same as them,” he continues. “She is a horrible person and horrible people cannot be defined by male and female. But I think a woman in the White House could actually be a great thing. I think women think differently [and] tend to be more compassionate [and] tend to sit back and think before they act a little bit more than testosterone-driven men… There are there are differences between men and women. I’m all for equal everything, but beyond all that there is the difference between a man and a female, going back to what we are as a species, before all this society stuff came into play.”

So, what about women in cannabis? What makes the cannabis industry more receptive to women? Why are there more C-Suite female executives in cannabis than in most other industries?

“I think the marijuana industry just attracts a lot of people like us; just cooler individuals who are just with it… Of course, women can be in charge of stuff. For me, that’s a no brainer.

“I think that’s one of the coolest things about marijuana: it brings cool people together. Through my life I’ve met some of the most incredible people through just smoking a joint.”

Keep up to date with all things Webby by following him on Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter.

The post Chris Webby Talks About Hillary Clinton and His Long Love Affair With Weed appeared first on High Times.

[nomadnaedotcom-blog]

Word Vomit

ON-THE-GO JOURNAL PROMPT NO. 02

Word Vomit: Internal Dialogue Freewrite for 8 minutes.

I guess I was waiting on the beat to drop as permission to put pen to pad and let the words erupt out of nowhere. I got distracted by someone hitting the chair next to me.Then my computer was the next . . . [distraction]

Kim Burrell is singing, I love this song & I used to love her until I was unfortunately slapped with the reality that her love & support only extends to when she is receiving our hard earned checks. And check it, meanwhile, apparently her holy alter-ego spends the "sparse" use of her free time shitting on people in the LGBTQ community in those itty bitt kitty Burlington Coat Factory pleather joints that Ms. Geter's crusty ass used to stomp up and down C.C. Spaulding's halls in thinking she was hot shit.

No clue where I was going with that one but I had to change the song. I have that Ms. Geter memory kinda saved for later and that's hilarious in itself. IDK why I'm writing about all this other shit like I need a filler. I'm laughing. I have to write that down or later I will be looking down at this confused af. I'm literally pulling a me on me write now with fake ass talking points to pass the time. This is supposed to be an enlightening exercise, and I know that, which is immediately why my mind went blank as the timer started. Still...fake talking points. 2nd Attend: Today I didn't eat and that has had a really adverse effect on how I moved throughout my day.

***Moved table closer for comfort**** (IDK why I thought this was important!)

Moving on, I want to give myself a break & a high-five for handling the day..well. Although it was stressful and [slightly] overwhelming, I still managed to find what was important and urgent while completing each necessary task. . . [distraction]

Yo, this daydreaming shit is starting to blow the fuck out of me. Sorry to the parents and real adults who decide to read this, by now you should be used to my mouth. Besides, this shit calls for it, I randomly feel like I don't have control over my own brain. Sometimes, when it happens after bad episodes, i get scared  that I'm losing my mind. I've experienced losing it in real time, my grandmother had Alzheimer's Disease when I was an early teen and one day my dad left us both unattended. As usual, idk what the hell he was doing, probably somewhere sleep. It couldn't have been for more than 30 minutes, but in whatever time she had more than a handful of breaks in reality. I remember that in her mind, there were phones that were ringing non-stop, conversations going on around her, animals I couldn't see running around the room, figures outside in the yard hiding by our mailbox and bushes, people trapped inside the posters on my wall posters and that's just all the instances I can recall now 3 years shy of 30. Gross, something else I don't want to think about.

what

what was 

what the fuck was I talking about?

OK, (I'm guessing I went back and read) when I can't help but give into the impulse of losing myself in a daydream or brain fog I feel like I'm one step closer to being institutionalized and never seen again. 

I guess it's not really just the daydreaming, it's everything. The chills, the lack of concentration, horrible sleep pattern, the cycles through shitty moods, etc.; I feel very close to losing control more often than I should and when it gets close to that point I feel like my neurons are on the verge of short circuit.

I'm out of room on the page and the timer is done.

WELL that was every-damn-where. 

  This was a pitiful attempt to show the world your journal entries don't have to be works of art. The just have to be REAL.

Happy Wednesday my loves.

-Nae