If I had like Do Whatever The Fuck You Want kind of money, I'd get a huge area of land within a reasonable walking distance from the town, and set up a mock graveyard in there. Fake tombstones with names of people who have never existed, sculptures of weeping angels draped dramatically over grave monuments, a folly in the style of old gothic stone church ruins, the whole nine yards. And then just wait for the goths to show up.
Watch them hang out there, sit on the dilapidated benches, take dramatic pictures of each other, the graves, and each other on the graves, just enjoying themselves and doing their thing, paying no mind to the unassuming, tall, equally abandoned-looking tower at the other end of the graveyard. It's not abandoned. I live there. And I set up this whole splendid little park for them just so I could watch them frolic, just the same as someone would put up a bird feeder on their yard because they wanted to watch birds.
Does anyone have the fucking tiktok video of the overly enthusiastic rich bearded guy showing off his new hiking shoes in his Mansion and the Woods, but then another dude duets with it to make it look like he's escaping from being held prisoner please please
"Not intentionally. Ghosts are just drawn to me. I'm a ghost sponge. A ghost magnet. When I'm hired to check out a haunted house, I walk in and take all the ghosts with me when I leave. And if it turns out there's a demon the ghosts eat 'em. It's a very efficient system."
"...Say that last part again."
"The ghosts eat the demons. Like a pack of hyenas taking down a wildebeest. I've seen the ghost of a 90-year-old Ukrainian babushka tear apart a demon with her teeth."
A retelling of The Ugly Duckling, where instead of a swan raised by ducks, it's a peacock egg that ended up being hatched by a chicken, called The Most Annoying Rooster, where instead of being sad about being an ugly outcast, the little peacock goes around like Excuse Me Are You Not Aware Of How Fucking Fabulous I am? And everyone except his mom finds him supremely annoying. The hen who hatched him is just like "no fuck you, my huge fabulous son can beat the shit out of all of your sons, you're just jealous."
Then the farmer whose chickens those are notices that wait shit that Fancy Chicken is in the wrong place, and as he tries to remove the peacock from the chicken coop, he refuses to leave without the hen who hatched him. So being moved to a more appropriate place for a peacock, the hen comes with him. And for the rest of his life The Most Annoying Rooster lives happily ever after as an Only Moderately Annoying Peacock, and if any bigger bird tries to do anything to the little hen, he will peck its fucking eyes out, because that's his momma who was always there for him, so he's always there for her.
there should be an episode of mob psycho where an orchestra somewhere is panicking because their conductor has been killed by an evil spirit and reigan shows up thinking he and mob would exorcise the spirit but mob doesnt show up for his own reasons so reigan calls him while standing in front of the orchestra. Mob doesn’t answer so reigan goes on to leave him a very long voicemail explaining the situation but while hes doing so, all his hand movements make the orchestra think hes the replacement conductor. And so they start playing to his hand movements which results in a shockingly stunning and unique performance from this orchestra. People talk about it forever. It goes down in history as a moment that changed music forever etc etc
Bilbo barely passed Old Took's record lifespan after having a supernaturally-life-extending ring for 60 years. which begs a question. what the hell did Old Took do
I wish adaptations kept Victor Frankenstein's actual age. I want the modern audience to see this goth kid who looks like he has to ask older people to buy him Monster, and realize, oh, oh, THAT'S why he's not the best father figure. Like Victor Frankenstein is a mad science version of "16 and pregnant" and I want more stuff on that.
I drew Yubaba from Spirited Away for mom's card this year! Re-watching this movie was an absolute delight, and I think it's a good time to watch Howl's Moving Castle again, too. For reasons. (Not romantic Sophie and Howl sketchbook ideas, nope)
It is November of 1893. You have just killed a vampire. Exhausted and worn, you close your eyes and rest.
You wake up. It is May of 1893. You are on a train en route to Transylvania. Your diary says you have had queer dreams lately.
You try to believe it.
(An old woman puts a rosary in your hands. You accept it without question.)
You are a guest in a castle you have never been in before (you recognize every hallway and know without trying that every door is locked). Your host is a man you have never met before (you killed him you killed him you killed him he had turned to dust and there was blood on the snow).
One morning you cut yourself while shaving.
There is nobody behind you in the pocket mirror’s reflection.
You turn fast, and the razor is like a Kukri knife in your hand.