#PLEASE tell me this is a parody episode

[babytarttdoodoo]

for the mini fic prompt, could you do hurt/comfort where jamie hyperventilates and has a panic attack in mom city? and with keeley and roy to help him through it

Y’all really looked at the angst and h/c of the last one and went ‘yup’, huh? I love it.

Went back and forth on when in Mom City to place this but there is a good chunk of unaccounted for time in the episode where we know Jamie, Roy and Keeley were all together.

Thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy.

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

They ended up in the hotel bar. It was hardly the most glamorous spot in the city and Jamie felt a bit like he should be doing more to show Roy and Keeley around his hometown.

The truth was, though, that he was still just bone-deep tired. He hadn’t missed the way Roy had eyed him assessingly before telling Keeley that Jamie wasn’t allowed cocktails and making a fuss about the team curfew.

Jamie was grateful for it. Not that he would ever admit it out loud.

So all three of them had retraced their steps back to the Hacienda and found a quiet corner that kept them mostly hidden from the view of other guests enjoying a nightcap. Roy had looked entirely too pleased with himself when he returned from the bar with a beer, something pink and foamy for Keeley, and a neon-coloured, sugary monstrosity of a mocktail that he set down in front of Jamie.

The umbrella in it was a nice touch.

It drew out a bout of good natured teasing that it was easy to laugh at, to fall into a familiar rhythm with, but Jamie quickly resorted to quietly sipping his glorified fruit juice while Roy and Keeley (mostly Keeley) carried on the conversation around him.

Talking seemed like so much effort, right then.

Don’t get him wrong, seeing his mum had helped loads. It always did. She never judged him for anything and always understood what he was trying to say, regardless of whatever mixed metaphors he came up with to describe the mess in his head.

Just spending a bit of time with her had settled something in his chest that felt like it had rattled loose weeks ago.

But that feeling of dread that had dogged so many of his waking hours was still pulling at the back of his mind. It was with a sort of detached fascination that Jamie noticed his fingers shaking when he reached for his glass.

“Jamie?”

“Hmm?” He startled and looked up from the table to see Roy and Keeley staring right at him, twin expressions of pinched concern on their faces. Like a weird parody of those posters in his room. “Oh, er, sorry, Keels. Miles away.”

“You should get to bed.” Roy stated, frowning but not (Jamie thought) in an angry way. “We still need you tomorrow.”

Right.

“The crowd’s gonna hate you. And the person who’s gonna be booing the loudest in the crowd is your dad.”

Jamie stood abruptly, barely noticing the screech his chair made against the floor past the white noise suddenly rushing in his ears. He did notice the way concern shifted straight to fucking alarm across the table and stumbled over an apology.

“Sorry! Sorry, I’ll just go. Upstairs.” He swallowed and it made his stomach churn. Could you sweat on the inside of your mouth? It definitely felt like it. “Need me rest, don’t I?”

Roy was already getting up too. “Fuck, Jamie, I didn’t mean…”

“Stay for a bit? We’ll walk you up.” Keeley chimed in, looking at Jamie with big, liquid eyes and shit, he couldn’t handle any more of this.

He said something, he thought, but didn’t know or care if it made sense. He just shook his head and backed away quickly, keenly aware of the eyes on him as he made a beeline for the lobby.

Jamie shouldered open the door to the stairwell without making a conscious decision to take the stairs. It probably wasn’t a good idea - the shaking in his fingers had apparently spread and it felt like pins and needles were running up his legs. Everything about how he was feeling made the plushly carpeted steps seem horribly intimidating.

In the absence of a better option, he sank down to sit on them instead, clutching onto the wall and only barely aware of the short, sharp breaths he was pulling in. His chest felt like he’d been doing Roy’s sadistic suicide runs all day.

Funny, his vision swam when he did those too.

He closed his eyes against the nausea that swamped him as if a tide of awful was rushing over his head and just tried to breathe, to focus on the sound and rhythm of air sucked into his lungs instead of anything else.

The feeling of hands on him jolted through his body like a shockwave.

“No!” He flailed his arms in an effort to get away and pressed back against the wall, looking around wildly.

“Shit, shit, sorry love.” For a terrifying second, Jamie didn’t even recognise Keeley, too confused by her sudden appearance. She was perched on the stairs too, hands snatched back against her chest to keep from reaching out again. “It’s just us. You’re okay.”

“Oi, Tartt.” Oh, Roy was there too, crouching down to his level and fixing him with a remarkably steady look. Right now, that seemed like some sort of superpower. Roy Fucking Kent, eh?

“Look at me, alright? Deep breath in.” He gestured to his own expanding ribcage and Jamie found himself following along. Copying his coach like it was the most natural thing in the world. He blew air out through pursed lips and drew it back in again. And again. And again. His eyes stayed fixed on Roy’s face, latched on to that cool, collected calm.

Slowly, the rest of the world started to filter back in and Jamie had the presence of mind to realise how ridiculous this all was. He was cowering in a corner like a scared kid while the two people he’d idolised for at least a fucking decade coddled him. His face felt wet.

He scrubbed his hands roughly over his eyes and cheeks, shifting into a more comfortable seating position and feeling his ears and neck burn with shame.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Roy agreed, still watching him carefully. “Alright?”

Jamie nodded glumly then startled when Roy all but collapsed to sit on the floor below him. The calm of a moment ago had disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Jesus Christ, don’t fucking do that again.” He practically snarled the words but didn’t actually look angry. He looked… something else. “Scared the shit out of me.”

Oh.

“Oh. Sorry.” Jamie offered weakly, baffled when Roy just shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Babe.” Keeley’s voice was quiet, tentative in a way he’d never really heard from her before. He turned to see that her eyes still looked huge, set in a paler than normal face. But she smiled at him. “Can I touch you now? Is that alright?”

That sounded fucking wonderful so Jamie nodded and went easily into her arms. She was tiny but he curled up to tuck his face against her shoulder, shivering when her fingers smoothed back his hair.

“That’s it, darling. We’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay.” She went on murmuring soft, nice little things to him as the shaking slowly left Jamie’s frame and he felt like his legs might support him again.

Eventually, he cleared his throat and sat back up straight. His eyes darted between them, seeing clearly now that they both looked properly terrible.

“... don’t suppose there’s any chance we can just forget that happened?” he tried hopefully. It did at least get a snort of laughter from Roy.

“Not a fucking hope in hell, you little prick.” He stood slowly, bracing a hand on the wall, and grimaced. “Ears.”

“What?” Jamie furrowed his brow in confusion when Keeley immediately slapped her hands over her ears. It quickly curdled into guilt when Roy reached down and viciously adjusted his knee with the worst cracking, squelching sound Jamie had ever heard. “Fucking hell, old man. What the fuck did you get on the floor for?”

Roy didn’t dignify that with an answer, just held out his hands to Jamie.

“C’mon, up. We’re not staying here all night.”

Jamie almost questioned what he meant by ‘we’, but just accepted the help instead and used Roy’s strong grip to pull himself back to standing.

Keeley followed his lead unaided and wrapped herself around Jamie’s arm, clearly intent on holding him for the foreseeable future. Or maybe she just thought he needed the extra support. That was valid.

Stairs were obviously not an option now, not with Roy wincing on every other step taken to show them back out into the lobby. Nevertheless, he hovered like a bodyguard, shielding the view of them both as much as he could with his own body until they reached the lift.

Keeley disentangled a hand to stab at the call button and they all herded into the small space like some bizarre conga line.

Jamie couldn’t even find it in himself to protest. Not when Keeley was soft and warm against his side, the smell of her perfume so achingly familiar. Not when Roy put a guiding hand to the small of his back and it drifted up to grip his shoulder once they were inside.

He found his voice, though, when Roy pressed the button for the eighth floor.

“I’m on six.” His suitcase was still sitting open on the bed, he thought, unpacked and lonely.

“My room’s bigger.” Roy told him gruffly, like that was any kind of answer, and made absolutely no move to change their destination.

Confused, Jamie let himself be led along to the room that Roy was apparently staying in and shuffled across the threshold. It actually was a bit nicer than his - that hardly seemed fair.

Keeley gently tugged him over the bed and sat him down. She smoothed back his hair again and it felt so nice.

“Do you need anything? I’m going to grab some of my stuff. I can go to your room too.”

Jamie scrunched up his face. It felt like he’d missed a whole conversation at some point. 

“You’re sleeping in here.” Roy told him, tone brooking no argument and Jamie turned to him in surprise. “So we can make sure you do actually fucking sleep.”

Sure enough, Roy was turning down the bedsheets and moving his own things around. Making room.

“Oh.” Jamie considered that. The thought of spending the night alone with Roy Kent in a hotel room brought up a lot of very complicated feelings. Except, it sounded like Keeley was planning to stick around as well, didn’t it? And the idea of staying like this for the rest of the night, bracketed between them with nice words and soft touches, was more comforting than he could bear.

“Alright then.”

#one day i'll stick to my own definition of 'mini' #but it is not this day #my fic #fic prompts #jamie tartt #roy kent #keeley jones #ted lasso

[m3r1m4r5u333]

I'm spotting parallels to earlier 911 scenes after seeing the promo stuff of Buck, bothered and bewildered, it's making me ramble, bear with it!

This theme of "flying" in Buck, bothered and bewildered? Reminds me so much of that emergency in episode (4x08) in which that guy cornered himself on a roof and then just paces, and moans, like a baby, on and on, for hours, and finally wails:

"When is it my turn to fly?!"

That line is such a funny parallel to Buck missing a flight in Buck, bothered and bewildered.

I've said this before but I think this whole roof scene is basically a parody of buddie, and their lack of progress. It's making fun of Buck's and Eddie's lack of emotional awareness, it's making fun of their stubborn persistence to keep scuba diving in Denial.

Refusal to self-reflect and grow has created this ridiculous state of stagnancy. They've cornered themself on a low roof, and refuse to get down. It would not take much, but hey, they're idiots.

This roof scene makes fun of it. It's pretty dumb to wail "When is it my turn to fly?" and get upset about missing out.... When the reason you miss the opportunity is due to your own idiocy and in-action. It feels like Buck, bothered and bewildered will maybe bring to the surface the subject of sexual identity, and obviously, failure to see oneself as they are would also lead to missing out. Can't fly, if you don't have the braincells to buy a ticket!

Another parallel to that roof scene in Buck in Buck, bothered and bewildered:

Both show Buck, trying (and failing) to understand his jealousy!!

In the roof scene, Buck rambles about his LOVE TRIANGLE with Albert and Veronica.

The ranting oozes bisexual vibes - Buck mentions seeing Albert in a towel(!) and is really bizarrely bothered about Albert dating Veronica.

The complaining about Albert "breaking the bro code" by dating a woman whom Buck dated??

It's so dumb and transparent - why should Buck care who goes on a date with Veronica - their date was a clear failure, he did not want to see her again. Seriously, their date only lasted for like 90 minutes.

It rather sounds like Buck has a crush on Albert and does not realise it.

Maybe we'll see something like that again, with Eddie and Tommy. Dumb jealousy floating to the surface, and lack of awareness making Buck miss out, and do something to get what he really wants.

So that guy who is stuck on that stupidly low roof, after he cornered himself? Who is basically driving everyone nuts with his never-ending wailing and refusal to get down... Feels like that's BUCK.

(It's Eddie too, really. He's talked about a feeling of missing out. Buying some brain cells would help with that, just saying. Really, the roof scene even has Eddie wondering "How much Christopher knows" and Bobby telling Eddie it might be better to tell him before he figures it out own his own. Eddie dithers, like always - and the camera cuts to the roof guy sobbing, dramatically. Like a baby.)

Really, it's bad enough that after hours of being forced to watch this dumb dithering... the team is finally exasperated enough to start silently chanting "jump!" at the guy on the roof. (Fellow buddie truthers, feels familiar, does it not? These himbos, when will they get down from that dumb roof! Jump!)

Anyway, "The roof' basically symbolizes being closeted/in denial/unable to confront one's own feelings.

"The roof" is fear and refusal to move forward, and then complaining about missing out, not really living a full life.

Buck, Eddie, do something. Buy a freaking ticket. Jump! Before we all lose our minds, please.

#911 buddie #buck bothered and bewildered #roof guy #When is it my turn to fly? #eddie diaz #buddie #evan buckley #buddie 911 #evan buck buckley #911 on abc #911 speculation #911 abc #eddie díaz #tommy kinard #bi!buck #Scubadiving in Denial #911 spoilers #911 season 7 spoilers

[watercolourferns]

The reason Hazbin Hotel (FORGETTING ALL THE CONTROVERSY AROUND IT, PLEASE THAT'S FOR ANOTHER POST) is NOT for kids isn't how crass and rude it can be. But it's the topics it touches, especially with Husk and Angel.

The 4th episode touched on Angel's problems, a bit of his background and his current situation, and daaaaaaaaamn.

As someone who survived almost 5 years of DA and rape and who has seen SW as their only way out sometimes I can tell you that that's just how it is. It's crude, and cruel, and cold, and painful, your body's never your own anymore after it until you heal, and sometimes you think you have healed yet you didn't... And the only way to forget is to SH and just do it all over again, and MY particular case was mild compared to so many others I've talked to...

Imagine a child, who cannot relate to this, who is innocent and inexperienced, watching Angel's story and listening to Poison and Loser, baby. Helluva Boss also touches in sensitive topics, but not in this way from what I've watched.

This isn't south park, where the messages it gave were lost in it's crassness and it turned into a whole different shit show that parodied and satirized these topics. Whatever Viv is her series is actually taking these topics seriously in a way ADULTS can relate.

Yes, it's got comedy, and yes it's animation, but we have to understand that sometimes adults need these things too. Especially now a days where the world is so goddamned grim.

I'm only saying this because my fiancée works with children and since HH has been out there's a plethora of parents complaining about how this shouldn't be aired because it's not for children.

NO SHIT SHERLOCK, IT'S NOT. It's for us adults! Can we have just THIS ONE THINGS THIS ONE TIME?!

And I've seen in other places purity culture advocates and it's just... it's giving me a headache, and since I vent a lot here I wanted to just let it out...

Life ain't pretty, some of us are losers... but at least this is helping people like me feel seen when the rest of society wants to hide us like some shameful secret they don't wanna deal with...

We're some losers, baby, some right on crazy losers, but at least we're not alone and we deserve to be seen! 🎶

#fern is speaking #hazbin hotel

[lilyginnyblackv2]

Ryo’s Gun & Jane Austen

It’s hard to see, but in the OP Ryo’s gun (and it is Ryo’s gun, I made the mistake in a previous post of thinking it was Kazuki’s, whoops! But I have noted that correction in a reblog, so definitely check that out - I’ll link it below) has a quote on it from, what Google is telling me, is Jane Austen. The quote is:

I want nothing but death.

Those were her last words. 

Seeing those last words on Ryo’s gun in the OP with the current situation and the Episode 11 preview and everything - it can certainly seem scary. 

But, I’m going to focus a bit on Jane Austen as a writer, what her styles and themes are, and what that might mean for Buddy Daddies or how it might be reflected in Buddy Daddies. Since Kazuki’s VA did mention that we should think about what message the director is sending in this last act.

So, let’s take a look. I think the main two ways that Jane Austen’s style and themes can be seen in Buddy Daddies, is how her writing was considered realism and with a lot of emphasis being placed on “the everyday” that was accompanied by comedy:

Text: Jane Austen's (1775–1817) distinctive literary style relies on a combination of parody, burlesque, irony, free indirect speech and a degree of realism. She uses parody and burlesque for comic effect and to critique the portrayal of women in 18th-century sentimental and Gothic novels. Austen extends her critique by highlighting social hypocrisy through irony; she often creates an ironic tone through free indirect speech in which the thoughts and words of the characters mix with the voice of the narrator. The degree to which critics believe Austen's characters have psychological depth informs their views regarding her realism. While some scholars argue that Austen falls into a tradition of realism because of her finely executed portrayal of individual characters and her emphasis on "the everyday", others contend that her characters lack a depth of feeling compared with earlier works, and that this, combined with Austen's polemical tone, places her outside the realist tradition.

(From the Wikipedia Article on her style, which will be linked to below).

We see aspects of this with Buddy Daddies. In Episode 4 we have a critique being made about the ridiculous levels of paperwork and prep work that needs to go into sending a kid to daycare.

While we get depictions of everyday aspects like Kazuki cleaning or Rei and Miri playing games together. 

Another aspect of Jane Austen’s writing style is about character’s growing to become “better” and more moral versions of themselves.

Text:  Her plots are fundamentally about education; her heroines come to see themselves and their conduct more clearly, and become better, more moral people. While Austen steers clear of the formal moralizing common in early-19th-century literature, morality—characterized by manners, duty to society and religious seriousness—is a central theme of her works. Throughout her novels, serious reading is associated with intellectual and moral development.

We see that happening in Buddy Daddies as well, through scenes like Rei’s thoughts on how he just mindlessly killed in the past:

Or with the discussion and prevalence on change:

There are other elements and themes to her writing as well, like the focus on women, of course. But I don’t think we can really speak on that aspect too much until the series is said and done. 

Of course, the quote is likely also there due to Ryo’s curiosity with death, final words, and the reason for why humans exist. But, I would like to think that this quote wasn’t picked solely for that reason either.

Also, I’m not super well versed in Jane Austen stuff (I know some of my moots are though! Though I don’t know how versed they might be with Buddy Daddies), but if anyone who is more versed with her as a person and her works wants to chime in or add to this (or correct me on anything I may have gotten wrong!) please feel free to do so in a reblog, comment or even in the tags. I always love to see what others write or contribute to the conversation! <3

#Buddy Daddies #BD #Jane Austen #KazuRei #Kazuki Kurusu #Rei Suwa #Ryo Ogino #BD spoilers #Buddy Daddies spoilers #long post #image heavy post #meta post #analysis #themes

[hardkookiecookie]

after this poll is over I will reveal the lie and also explain the ones that did happen/are true !! :] have fun y'all !!

ALSO !! I know like 20 people watched iron leaguer but I implore y'all NOT to spoil which one it is in the tags . please and thank you .

#iron leaguer #shippu! iron leaguer #fandom polls #poll #cannot wait to see what y'all think didn't happen lol

[sunnytastic]

in honor of my premonition, here is my running list of sunny episode ideas:

- the gang does drag

mac has the idea to do a drag night at the bar to make money. frank supports the idea as he's continuing to try to prove that he's "down with the gays." charlie gets surprisingly very into it, mostly because he doesn't understand gender and just has fun dressing up. dee dresses up as a drag king and gets hit on by all the gays (a "you're not gay. you're just really, really vain" situation). and of course, dennis just looks fucking gorgeous and most definitely sends mac into a gay panic ("i've got to get out here. this was a bad idea.")

- grey's anatomy parody

idk how this would work but this is a sitcom and it's the gang so i don't think they would have any reservations about pretending to be hospital staff. (dennis wants to sleep with a hot doctor/nurse, charlie wants to get into the operating room, etc etc) but ultimately it's very soap opera-y and romantic (gang style)

- the gang goes to comic con (meta)

charlie and mac are comic book nerds. but i general, the gang is there to see a panel with the thunder gun express cast which ends up being a metaphor for sunny and the cast

- high school episode with actual teenagers

the gang buys a roller rink doesn't exist in my head. please give me high school episode where i can actually pretend these people are still in high school.

- dennis and dee birthday

it is literally insane that we haven't seen a twins birthday episode because i mean, the possibilities are endless. the twins are harsh and competitive by nature and you can't tell me that wouldn't make for some good fucking comedy

- frank, charlie, and dennis day

enough said really. they should continue the episodes because character centered episodes are always really funny

- new year's eve episode

i always love their holiday episodes but they are running out so i think the next logical choice is new year's eve. the idea of a new year's kiss, obnoxious resolutions, and running a party at the bar.

- mockumentary

making dennis reynolds a murder does not count. that was a fake documentary. i want a parks & rec, what we do in the shadows, the office style mockumentary where the gang does something stupid and then they cut to an interview.

- the gang plays monopoly

i mean the chaos that could ensue. this might be too similar to chardee macdennis in terms of premise but i will say i've had games of monopoly where i felt like i was going to come to blows with my closest friends and family. monopoly has opportunities for alliances, betrayal, and absurd deals, which when done gang style, it'll get insane

- the gang goes to the amusement park

very similar to the gang goes to the water park and gang texts but in a different location

- the gang does shrooms

mostly i just want an episode where the gang is knocked on their asses from being high. it would be such a contrast to how we normally see the gang but being high still gives them the opportunity to be insane (look no further than the gang gets invincible)

if you guys have any ideas of plot points to add on to these episodes, lemme know!

#iasip #its always sunny #it's always sunny in philadelphia #dennis reynolds #mac macdonald #charlie kelly #frank reynolds #dee reynolds #glenn howerton #rob mcelhenney #kaitlin olson #charlie day #danny devito #isa x sunny

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

Loki spin-off ideas

I'm going to preface this by saying, I do not think we will ever get a Loki spin-off. But that doesn't mean I can't think about all the great possibilities there could be. And also I am quickly running out of ideas again.

Spoilers for Loki.

TVA workplace comedy, featuring B-15 Verity, Casey, OB, on occasion Sylvie and Mobius, and introducing new (queer) characters. Casey and OB stumble their way into a relationship, Verity once and for all establishes that she can detect lies, Mobius is sad until in the season finale (with special guest star Tom Hiddleston!) someone figures out how to get him to Loki. And we get Lokius in the last ten seconds, because they pull a Will Shatner and purposely ruin every other take that isn't them making the fuck out.

TVA training shorts, featuring Miss Minutes (ugh), reminiscent of those high school PSAs they made Cap do ("So you got detention," etc.), but animated in the style of the introductory video Loki watched in the first episode. You could also have a second season of them as an updated version following the dissolution of the Sacred Timeline and how the branches are seen as good things now. Maybe the new ones are narrated by members of the Time Revengers, since Miss Minutes is still being rehabilitated. (I'm still deciding if the idea of listening to Mobius tell the story of how the multiversal tree was created would be heartbreaking even if he managed to remain professional and not break down in tears, or if it would be really sweet that he gets assigned that video.)

Lokis in the void, following mainly Kid Loki and (if we retcon it, set this before the show, or he somehow survived) Classic Loki, but also ridiculous schemes of President Loki (yuck, no thank you) that constantly get thwarted. The B-plot is Alligator Loki sneaking off and getting up to some shit in an anti-Perry the Platypus running gag. (Wait, maybe I just want a Phineas and Ferb parody where every character is a Loki and it takes place in the void. That could be so stupid it's hilarious.)

Classic Loki in Valhalla please I need it. Like we start similarly to the events of my fic After, where Classic Loki arrives in Valhalla and reunites at long last with Thor (don't ask me how, I know technically his timeline was reset). Then the show continues with Classic Loki and Thor getting up to hijinks in Valhalla, maybe scheming to break out of Valhalla (a storyline for Loki in various contexts I've played around with a few times). We could have different characters from the Thor movies and comics in Valhalla, but since they're all dead, they're all played by older actors. You could make some easy, low-hanging old jokes (back pain every time they use their weapon, etc.), but they're gods and they're dead, so technically they should be fine. They're just old and dead. (But like, Tony Stark is for sure in Valhalla, too. You could have some frostiron going on. Or Fandral. He's there, too, Ewing.)

Mobius's adventures in the multiverse, just episodes of him traveling through time and experiencing it (I'm realizing now that this is basically just the premise for Doctor Who...). Also going on in this series is obviously Mobius missing Loki and looking for a way to get to him. Of course (because this is my show and I say so), the series would end with them reuniting and confessing and staying together, either in the tree if need be or in the wider multiverse if Loki is able to leave the tree. And there would certainly be episodes throughout the show featuring the other members of our Time Revengers. Maybe the workplace comedy and this show are occurring simultaneously. (Like one episode of TVA someone's like "Where's Verity?" "Oh she's on a mission." And you're like oh the actor has a break or is filming something else, and then later that week the episode of Mobius airs and THERE'S VERITY!)

Sylvie in Broxton. That's it, that's the show. Just Sylvie living her best life in the small town, working at McDonald's, hanging out at Lyle's record store, ignoring 90% of the calls on her TemPad (unless it's Mobius, because in spite of herself, she's a little worried about him).

#loki #loki tv show #loki theories #sylvie laufeydottir #mobius m mobius #lokius #loki spinoff ideas #loki season 2 spoilers #loki tv show spoilers

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Earlier today I posted about John Robins' Chortle blog from the 2007 Edinburgh Festival. This made me remember that we do have other records of him around that time, when he sat in with Jon Richardson on the BBC 6 Music radio show while Russell was in Australia. And he was a guest on the Jon Richardson Show a few times, post-Russell's departure, in 2008-09. All of which I of course re-listened to a little while ago, because I've been following his other podcast/radio/TV/stand-up things alongside the radio show in chronological order, and those were rare examples of stuff from before the XFM chronology. So I listened to it a while ago, but was reminded of it today by those Chortle things, and as a result I now have a terrible song stuck in my head that I need to tell people about.

On the BBC 6 Music show in January 2009, they played a song off what they referred to as his "album", and I was surprised I hadn't heard of that before. John sometimes talk about how he was in a few bands when he was young, but they all sound like very, very low-level things that did a few student gigs but wouldn't have released an album. I had no idea there was a John Robins album out there.

They then played the song, and it was really weird. It was clearly a joke, but it wasn't really comedy. I mean, I guess it's technically comedy. But it didn't seem like enough of a joke to justify how bad it was. Like the lyrics were meant to be funny, but the song itself wasn't a joke, it was meant to be a genuinely funny song. That they released on an album full of, they promised us, similar songs. As of January 2009, this was something that had just come out, and he was playing it on Jon Richardson's radio show in what appeared to be an earnest attempt to get publicity and sell it, he read out a link where people could go to buy the album (obviously I immediately went to that link and it is long dead, a quick look around the internet suggests that it is no longer for sale).

I was listening to this 2009 radio show, and I kept waiting for John Robins to make some sort of joke about it. To acknowledge that this was a really weird stupid thing he did, and they were playing it on the radio as a sort of bit. But that never came.

Here's the relevant clip from that radio show, where they talk about the album and then play the song:

So, the album is called Doing it with Women. The song they played is the title track. I can see where he was going with it. I think that kind of thing was big in the 00s, over-the-top masculine bravado where the joke is that obviously this man is not actually fucking all those bitches as he claims. Kitson used to do a lot of that, it was actually a staple of Chocolate Milk Gang humour in its day. Parody rap battles and shit like that. Obviously people still do comedy like that, but I think it was particularly big in those years. But I think that stuff only works if you make it really, really clear what you're doing. And this song... nothing was clear about it. Nothing was clear and it did not work at all. It doesn't work as comedy, and it definitely doesn't work as music.

I did listen to that episode initially and think, this seems like something I'd expect from a much younger John Robins. Like when they played those excerpts from his days as a student DJ at Oxford, and it was painfully bad but also adorably earnest and sweet and fun to listen to. The Doing it with Women song would make sense if someone uncovered a thing that John Robins made as a university student. Not something he put out in 2009, when I am listening to it for the sake of hearing young John Robins be young, but still, he was well into his comedy career and in his late twenties.

Because of this, I was quite pleased when a few weeks after listening to that, I reached the April 2017 episodes of the Radio X show, when John and Elis covered the drive time slots five nights a week, and had too much time to fill and may have been hard up for content. John Robins mentioned that he once put an album out, and Elis asked him when this was, and John replied, "Far too recently." This was a relief to me - he does know now. He might have been too old by 2009 to think this was a good idea, but at least by 2017, he was aware that not only was it a bad idea, but it was the sort of idea he really should have outgrown by that age.

John: I think it speaks volumes to how embarrassed I am of the album that -

Elis: That you've gone crimson.

John: That in three and a half years of doing this show, I've never mentioned it. Even though it would make for quite good content.

And that would be why I hadn't heard of this album before, even though I didn't listen to the BBC 6 Music stuff until I was already a ways into the XFM/Radio X show (I did break the chronology following a little bit there), and would have expected to know about something like that. Again, here's the relevant clip:

Obviously by the next day (again, they were covering the daily slots that week so they had a lot of hours to cover and really needed the content), they had procured a copy of the Doing it with Women album and played bits of it on the radio while making fun of it. It is great fun to listen to John Robins scramble to clarify that he knows this was not an acceptable thing to record and put in an album, it was a different time, 2009, he does not stand by any of this, he respects women, really, very much. He keeps going between trying to explain why this seemed like a good idea at the time, and disowning it entirely.

For those who do not listen to this radio show and don't know how John Robins' voice normally sounds, he doesn't always sound like he's about to cry. Just when he's talking about terrible albums he made not long enough ago (I mean, I have heard a few other things make his voice crack like that, but not all that many).

Anyway, the reason for this post is that reading those Chortle blogs today reminded me of this story, and being reminded of this story made me think of that song - the title track that he played on the BBC 6 Music show in 2009. And that is why, all day now, I have had "Doing it with women is my favourite kind of hobby" stuck in my head. Because as terrible as the song is, it's got a beat that can be hard to extract from your brain, and it's incredibly annoying. It's really, really annoying, and it's been stuck in my head for so long now, I try playing other songs but then that one just comes back in. So I thought I'd share this and inflict it on other people too. I can't carry this alone.

[jinxthejubilee]

SAVE RISE OF TMNT!! 🐢 💖

Look, I know this is a little late, but I just binged the first season of the show and watched movie, so I NEED to talk about it!

This movie is gorgeous! Absolutely gorgeous! And so is the show. I never thought that I would ever describe fight scenes as beautiful, yet here I am.

I'm ashamed to admit that I was one of the many people who didn't give ROTTMNT a chance when it first came out, but allow me to present my reasoning:

Teen Titans Go! 😑

I'm pretty sure everyone between 2016-2019 would agree that we were all pretty burnt out on this show.

Honestly speaking, I didn't hate TTG. It was funny at times, and even though it was mostly a parody of a show that I deeply enjoyed, I never took it as disrespectful. It was just that, a parody show.

However! The people running Cartoon Network milked this show waaaayyy too dry. It was everywhere!

I present to you all as evidence: The Cartoon Network Schedules (There are no dates, so let's say that these were between 2017-onwards).

And these idiots wonder why their network was slowly dying off...

But aside from this! The second reason for folks disliking the show at first was also due to the fact that TMNT 2012 ended only a year after Rise started airing.

So suffice to say, this show wasn't given the warmest welcome.

BUT! It was wrong of me to misjudge this show, because it is a GEM!

The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles formula is all mixed up here! From the characters themselves and their distinct designs, to the beautiful worlds they explore (seriously I can't express to you all how pretty this show is), and the comedy aspect is handled really well.

The same goes for the movie. You can tell that the people behind it really put their heart and soul into what they made.

As for the turtle brothers, I appreciate how realistic their brotherhood was. You can really feel that familial connection they all have. They all love each other, they know that, and they bounce off of each other perfectly. Just like real brothers do.

I encourage all of you to watch the show and movie on Netflix if you have it.

Unfortunately though, Netflix has once again screwed us over by not have each of its seasons. I have yet to find a website that has all the episodes of Season 2, but if you do, please let us know!

Now, onto why this is important...

Well, the creators have told us...

If the movie does well...

WE GET ANOTHER SEASON OF RISE!!

AND. We get more characters! Including a certain female turtle who has not been given a chance to shine until she debuted in the IDW comics.

Yes. We might get Venus De Milo back. And maybe Jennika. We'll see.

So please! Watch this movie! I beg of you!

But that's just my two cents! I hope you all have a fantastic day, and I'll see you later! Byeee! 💗

(I'll put a few different tags for this so we can get more traction for this movie/show. Hope that's alright!)

#rise of teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles movie #rottmnt movie #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #rottmnt leo #tmnt raphael #rottmnt raph #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #rottmnt donnie #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #rottmnt michelangelo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt 2018 #rottmnt 2022 #tmnt venus #venus de milo #rottmnt venus #teen titans #teen titains go #obey me #obey me!

[thefinalcinderella]

Tsurune: Irodori no Issha Episode 1: Kuma’s Feelings

So kyoto animation is posting limited time audio dramas after every episode, and luckily for me, there’s subs in Japanese! I’ll be tagging all the dramas under tsurune: irodori no Issha

Seiya is being a funky little guy in this one

Tsurune translation masterpost here

Translation Notes:

1. Seiya is parodying the speech patterns of the cat protagonist in Natsume Soseki’s I am a Cat. The cat there speaks in a very self-important and grandiose way, like a nobleman

2. A pun. The phrase here is 医者の不養生 which literally means “a doctor’s neglect of health” and is an idiom that means “not practicing what you preach”

Minato: Kuma! Good morning! 

Minato: You’re so fluffy...let me sniff your head a little bit. And then your paws, and your ears.

Minato: Let’s go out together today.

Seiya: “I am Kuma. Today, Narumiya Minato-kun, the neighbor from across the street, is in high spirits.”

Minato: Eh, what are you doing, Seiya?

Seiya: “Minato-kun comes to my house everyday for the goal of petting me. I am pleased that he visits me everyday, but to be honest, I cannot help but think that there are other things he should prioritize.”

Minato: Kuma would never say something like that

Seiya: Who can say

Minato: Kuma loves me. No matter how much I pet him, he’s fine with it, right, Kuma?

Seiya: “When he states that so strongly, I have no choice but to say yes in a dog-like way.”

Minato: Seiya’s Kuma is pretty sarcastic

Seiya: He has a fairly philosophical side to him

Seiya: Anyways, let’s go. We have an appointment

Minato: “I’m Kuma! My young master is a bit of a pain. But I forgive him since he gives me jerky.”

Seiya: Huh? There’s bribery involved?

Minato: “My young master is desperate for my affection.”

Seiya: Then, what about Minato?

Minato: “Minato is my friend. I love playing with him. By the way, my favorite games are fetch and tug-of-war.”

Seiya: All you need is for someone to play with you?

Minato: “My job is to play, sleep, and eat.”

Seiya: That’s nice. I’m jealous of you, Kuma.

Minato: “Oh? Master has a gloomy face. Let me try to sniff him.”

Seiya: You can tell from my smell?

Minato: “My sense of smell is ten thousand to a hundred million times better than humans. I can even know what you’re thinking about, whether you’re happy or sad, not to mention your footsteps!”

Seiya: Ten thousand and a hundred million are two completely different numbers.

Minato: “My master is nitpicky. That’s why he tends to worry about all kinds of things.”

Seiya: I don’t want to hear that from you, Kuma...or rather, Minato.

Minato: “I don’t care about the small things! There’s a nice phone pole here. Hmm, hmm. I see.”

Seiya: So, what about it? 

Minato: “A dog has marked this spot.”

Seiya: Well, that’s obvious. Anyone can see that. 

Minato: “I won’t tell my master the details.”

Seiya: I know Kuma wouldn’t say mean things like that. 

Minato: Ugh...that’s true.

Seiya: You broke character.

Minato: I know. 

Minato: Okay, let’s go, Kuma.

Minato: What’s wrong, Kuma? Don’t sit down. 

Seiya: “I am Kuma. I sense something suspicious.”

Minato: There’s nothing suspicious at all.

Seiya: “I sense something suspicious in the fact that he said that there’s nothing suspicious.

Minato: Stop goofing around, Seiya. Do something

Seiya: “I have decided to not budge at all from my spot.”

Minato: And we were almost there...

Minato: Seiya, hold Kuma for a bit. 

Seiya: You help too, Minato

Minato: One, two!

Seiya: Heavy!

Minato: When we weighed him before, he was 45kg. 

Seiya: Heave-ho! 

Minato: “Oh wow, I’m being carried. Is it okay to ignore a person...no, a dog’s will?”

Seiya: Minato, do you want to take Kuma to the animal hospital or not?

Minato: I’m going, I’m going. Okay, Kuma, bear with it. A dog from a family of doctors wouldn’t get sick. 

Seiya: That would be failing to practice what they preach.(2) Oh, he gave up and started walking.

Minato: “I didn’t give up. I decided to go to the hospital for the sake of my master.”

#tsurune #tsurune: irodori no issha #Narumiya Minato #Takehaya Seiya

[of-the-faerie-folk]

I am once again asking what starkid is

Ahhhh I’m so sorry

I feel like I already might have responded to your other post? but maybe I’m going crazy

(Keep in mind I’m no expert I’ve only been watching them for around 3-4 years)

Starkid is an independent theatre production group. The writers are two brothers, Nick and Matt Lang, and they’ve been making shows since 2009 when they were at college (I forget where rn) Starkid isn’t just the writers. It’s whoever has been a part of it over the many years. Some of the actors only have been in one or two shows, some have been in almost every single one to date. But they’re all Starkids

Their first theater show (barring a couple other projects I believe) was A Very Potter Musical, a parody of Harry Potter.

They’ve since then written some more parodies, including more Harry Potter ones and a Batman one, and a number of hilarious and bizarrely creative shows about anything from humans colonizing a planet of bugs (Starship. It’s rlly good) to a show about a guy and his dick (Me & My Dick. Actually this is the only one I haven’t seen yet)

Anywayyy I’m guessing you’ve noticed my current obsession with their show Nerdy Prudes Must Die, and boy would I love to enlighten you in the Hatchetverse: the multiverse of stories that take place in the tiny town of Hatchetfield. The genre is horror comedy.

The Hatchetfield musicals aren’t particularly in order because, but the first one is The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals, a musical about an apocalypse that’s a lot scarier than it sounds. Then there’s Black Friday, a musical about the craze of capitalism with also an evil god involved.

Technically there’s also the Nightmare Time episodes that came out in between Black Friday and NPMD. Those also take place in Hatchetfield but are more lore heavy so probably don’t watch those unless you’re really into it (they’re good tho)

And finally, there’s Nerdy Prudes Must Die. A musical about high school seniors, their bully who has a god complex, the horniest and most deranged Christian girl, accidental murder, more murder, and throw some more eldritch horror gods in there.

Okay okay maybe none of that made sense but i am so happy answer more questions because if you can’t tell I’m a bit fixated on this fandom right now

(Please please watch the hatchetfield musicals at least. They’re so good I promise)

#fi answers #fi thoughts #starkid

[therandosfandos]

Sum: A parody of a My Little Pony fanfic and Mini Movie called "My Little Dashie"

Or Bender wakes up in a different dimension, the real world in 2024 and barely remembers anything, luckily a couple takes c

@frenderbender09 @euforimorily new fic!!

I've been a fan of "Futurama" since two years ago. I found it doing a YouTube search of an audio I heard and immediately got interested. Finally I started watching it and it was as good as I imagined.

Good is an understatement though, I would say the greatest thing in TV history.

It's always been a hard time, Futurama has become my safe haven, a place to get away from it all and just relax. My pencil outlining the paper in a magical way of sketching. Thin transparent lines appeared as I hum to the music in my headphones. I finish my favorite characters head first, then move onto the body, arms, legs, visor and antenna. Finally, getting bored, I got up from my seat, went over and plopped on my couch with my phone in hand and Tumblr opened.

A Dr. Pepper sitting beside me to drink as I took a hold of the remote and clicked the power button. Going to a free streaming site called Wcostream.com, I clicked the F category and found my gate to heaven. I clicked it and put on "The Inhuman Torch", one of my favorite episodes.

Time ticked away and I was content with it all. Curled up in blankets, sipping my soda and watching my comfort show was all I needed at the moment. My leg shook as a natural phenomenon, it didn't bother me at all though. It was all good, I barely acknowledge it anyways. The sweet fizz of the Dr. Pepper made me pant slightly, but it was delicious.

Suddenly, a bright flash that tore by window nearly blinded me. I squinted as the shine passed. I rub at my eyes and shake my head, trying to snap myself out of a blurry haze. I could of sworn I heard a loud clank. I sigh and pause the TV, but somethings wrong.

Wasn't Bender supposed to be on this scene? It's empty. Strange.

My expression falls skeptical before I grab my black and pink flannel jacket and put it on to go in the cold, I easily froze over due to how pale I was. I barely ever went outside to be honest unless for school or if I absolutely had to. I trudged down the carpeted stairs and opened the white door to the outside world of Virginia and my apartment complex.

Feet stepped onto concrete and I looked around. It was night time so the stars glowed brightly in the sky. A smile lifted onto my face and I giggle. My greenish blue eyes darted around to gaze until I could see something grey stick out from behind the bushes, "Hm.."

Walking over there, my eyes widened in shock, "Bender?", my breath fell short and my muscles tensed, leaving me paralyzed in spot.

The robot was there for sure, sprawled out half on the grass and half on the sidewalk. He didn't seem to be damaged but I couldn't be too sure. I hesitate and look around. No one. Thank god. The bending unit seemed to be unconscious too, good, good.

I grunted as I squat down behind his head and guide my hands under it, pushing up until the bot was in a sitting position. Before the robot could fall, I pushed him up again by his back and got him standing. He was about to fall forward until I got him aligned with solid ground by supporting him. A sign of relief escaped my chest. "Let's get you inside..."

Then another problem hits me. Stairs. "Fuck", I curse and rolled my eyes. "Well, it's better to try than not..", I mumble and look at the robots closed visor. "Yeah, yeah, I know", I make up a conversation with the so called fictional character in my mind and laugh.

***

After what seemed like hours of gravity dragging me to my impending doom, I managed to get Bender into my apartment. "Finally!", I congratulate myself and sturdy him on the couch.

I go to the kitchen and open my fridge, "please tell me I got some kind of alcohol in here...", I mutter, pleading to myself that I had something, anything of the sort. I dug behind two milk jugs, some cheddar cheese, some condiments until I found a can of malt liquor.

Gratitude fills me and I pump my fist in the air as a way of saying victory. I jog back up to the robot and open up the beer, pouring it into Benders mouthplate. "Let's see if this wakes you up...", I say and finally pull it back, putting the half empty can on the table beside the couch. I wait in suspense to see if he'd wake up. Which, luckily for me, he did. His visor opened, optics flickering on and his metal three fingered hand twitches. He then bolts upright and gasps, "where am I!?", he yells out. Good, no repairs are needed, he sounded just fine and functioned properly.

Although, my hopes were crushed when I heard, "what happened!?".

Fuck. I cringe and hesitate, "um...Bender, don't be afraid, you're in my apartment", I speak up to make him aware of my existence. He just looks at me confused, "Who are you?...I'm..Bending Unit 22", he says. Great, this was just great. I sigh, "no, you're name is Bender Bending Rodriguez, you're from Tijuana, Mexico but live in New New York", I say.

Bender looked at me with a perplexed expression written across his faceplate, "how do you know this stuff about me?", he growls. But there was no "meatbag" comment.

I grimace. "Um, I just know...look, Bender..you're not in New New York", I say as I cringed, "you're in Virginia Beach, Virginia...", I state.

"You mean New Virginia?", Bender asked with a head tilt.

"No, Bender...just Virginia, it's 2024", I say and see his optics grow wide. "But it's supposed to be 3024!", he exclaimed. I shake my head and bury it into my hands as I take a seat next to the robot, "I don't know how you ended up here...", I sigh and hit play on the episode I was watching, but there was a tiny thing, Bender wasn't there like he was supposed to be. Oh, fuck.

My eyes was widen in shock. "Bender...I don't know how to tell you this", I start, "you're in the real world..."

The once agressive robot looks at me with a confused yet afraid look, "r-real world?", he stuttered. He's so scared, it pains my heart to see him trembling. He's not usually that terrified, he'd be yelling out curses and insults if he had his usual personality. It seems like his memory was half wiped, meaning he remembered some tiny details but not big ones.

I point at the TV, "you're supposed to be in the show I'm watching right now, you belong in there, you don't...belong out here...I don't know how you got here", I say, puzzled. How did a fictional character enter real life? It's not possible. And if it was, Bender would be here much earlier than he was due to me being a lunatic over him. I resist my urge to hug him, knowing he might not be okay with physical touch at the minute.

"I'm... fictional?", he asks with a whimper. I nod. It all spirals downward. Benders non-existent breath picks up. Oh, shit. I cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut.

Bender screams.

#futurama #bender #my little bender #i need my bender angst leave me alone

[polyhexian]

Nate ranks every transformers thing ever

What:

- Eugenesis

i have no idea how i can ethically rank this as good or bad. its good. its bad. its canon. its fanfiction. it is what it is. dont read eugenesis. please read eugenesis.

God tier:

- Rescue bots

i am not joking. i am not memeing. rescue bots is the best thing to ever come out of the transformers franchise. its the only series to break the three season curse and get a fourth season. it has more episodes than any other series, over 100. it didn’t get cancelled because it wasn’t popular, it ended because they ran out of stories they wanted to tell. then they dropped a sequel series with TWO more seasons. they gave nicole duboc a mainline series for this.

- Mtmte/lost light

life changing. incredible. ruined my life. saved my life. jro is my enemy. jro is my best friend. jro is my dad. i met him once. i showed him my hard copy of eugenesis i paid 150 dollars for and had him sign it. he probably thinks im insane. he DID sign it tho. i think about whirl and cdrw every day of my life

- Cyberverse

I LOVE CYBERVERSE SO MUCH... I don't think any series has captured the pure unbridled chaos of the entire franchise so well. It has so many characters and all of them feel RIGHT. I love the art style. I Love this unhinged soundwave. I LOVE the fresh and interesting new ideas if brought to the table. Season 3 was incredible. The season 4 specials destroyed me. TARN??? TARN IS HERE???

- Rescue bots academy

- Rise of the Beasts

I think that Bumblebee is an objectively better film, I just had more fun watching ROTB lol

- Bumblebee movie

BABY GIRL MY BABY DAUGHTER BABY GIRL BABY BABY

- Earthspark

- Botbots

Yes I am in fact putting botbots this high. This show was so unrepentantly funny. The goof at the beginning show us like oooh space ENERGON crashed to earth the war... Anyway none of that matters lets go to the mall. That is SO funny. They did a chopping mall parody and a Hamilton parody. The protagonist is an unhinged megalomaniac burger.

- Beast wars

don't worry about the visuals you get used to them so fucking fast. beast wars is incredible. the storytelling has so much depth. tigatrons big episode about the cost of their war against the planet and defining what protecting the planet even means changed me. theres an entire episode about farting and rampage and depth charge wanna hate fuck SO bad its fucking unreal

- Recordicons

you WILL acknowledge david willis’s contribution to lgbt history and you WILL laugh at his very funny memes

Great tier:

- Transformers Prime

- Transformers Animated

waspy baby.....

- Idw shattered glass

IM UNHINGED ABOUT SG STARSCREAM AND SG STARFIRE IM ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED

- 86 movie (Bluray remaster)

-the five minutes at the end of earthrise when cog became the main character for some reason

This was the funniest shit I've ever seen. One of the worst most boring shitty tf shows I've sat through with characters I truly care nothing for suddenly lurched sideways as out of fucking nowhere and for no reason at all a random background character suddenly took over the plot and gave the most harrowing performance I've seen in awhile in this horrifically tragic death scene that had my jaw on the floor. And then we just moved on and never spoke of it again ckdhzhcjof. WHAT WAS THAT.... LITERALLY WHAT WAS THAT AND WHY DID THAT HAPPEN....

- Armada (the starscream and Optimus parts)

It is UNREAL how good the starscream and Optimus bits are in this show. When the rest of it is pretty terrible. I would say after starscream dies it's pretty meh but not outright bad, just sort of nothin. The first couple episodes tho are so funny because they're so bad they had no script and were all but ad-libbing the whole thing. They couldn't go two minutes without getting a characters name wrong. Incredible. Anyway this starscream is legendary for being such an interesting and dynamic character with the best design ever. And just like. The coolest character arc.

Okay but also just like do not watch this show in English. The English version is awful and it is More than just a dub!! The Japanese version was finished AFTER the American version despite being animated in Japan!! Because the show! Was not! Done!!! The Japanese version of the show is called micron legend and it's practically a different show. Do yourself a favor and watched micron legend subbed.

- Victory

STAR SABER IS MY DAD OK

also the plot hinges around the premise that current autobot commander star saber found a human infant floating through space and legally adopted him. That's incredible come on

- IDW windblade mini

saren stone could kill me with a brick and i would thank them

- Transformers RiD15 IDW comic

Good tier:

- IDW2

- MMC mnemo/notif comic *

- Transformers go!

FUCK YEAH DRAGONS

- Funpub shattered glass

- Beast Wars uprising

DID YOU KNOW EJECT HAS A FUCKING SON?

Okay Tier:

- Wfc: Siege

- Zone

homosexual

- Challenge of the Go Bots *

Bad tier:

- The rest of IDW1

- G1

I'm not sorry for this. I don't like it. Boo

- Japanese headmasters

- Armada (the rest of it)

- Energon

- American headmasters

- Robotix *

im fucking unironically convinced when this flopped they just reused the plot for headmasters

- Wfc: earthrise

- Super god masterforce

- Beast wars 2

- Beast wars neo

- Beast machines

- RiD 2001

- 86 movie (pre bluray remaster)

- Cybertron

- Vanpires *

the wildest shit ive ever seen. ive watched every episode. imagine the cgi of beast wars season 1 with integrated live action. theres vampire cars and they "drain the gas from innocent cars" when cars??? not sentient???? the human children got irradiated and now they can turn into fucking horrible car beasts. why was this fucking made

- Bayverse

- Machinama’s Prime Wars

You know a series is bad when the first thing I want to complain about is the sound mixing

- Go-bots (transformers branded)

- Wfc: kingdom

Elite one my beloved I am so fucking sorry

Burn in hell tier:

- Rid15

Copaganda to rival paw patrol

- Exodus

This book called me a slur

- Hayato sakamoto’s Transformers Legends

- Kiss players

The worst thing transformers has ever done

??? (I still havent read/watched these) tier:

- Robot Masters

- Devastation

I played twenty minutes of this

- WfC

I’ve actually played a few hours of this but i got bored and didn’t finish so I don’t feel like i should rate it, but ultimately i just found it kind of generic and it didnt grab me

-FoC

-Wings Universe

-Unite Warriors

this is illustrated by hayato sakamoto and ive seen enough of like, the horny bathtub art and oversexualized female characters to assume its most likely shit tier, but i think he also brought breakdown back to life and canonized kobd? I do legitimately want to read this eventually

-Transtech

-Marvel comics

-GI Joe transformers crossover comics

-Dreamwave comics

-new energon universe image comic

-Q transformers

I have actually watched the subbed episodes of this but, there’s so few of them and its so clearly not intended for me since this is like a little silly flash cartoon specifically for japanese fans of transformers that its like, of course i dont really get the jokes or anything so even though i found this kind of boring i dont think its bad and i dont feel comfortable putting it on a tier

- TFP tie in games

- Bayverse tie in games

- Earth Wars

Energon enema though

- IDW MLP crossover

- Nezha

Nezha is lost media but it has toys and I have one so uhhhh I guess I'm acknowledging it theoretically exists

* don't act like this doesn't count, once you're deep enough to make a list ranking every transformers thing ever made you have to start counting this type of shit too

[roxy206]

Diving For The Hopeless Diamond — 07/11/2023

watch here | listen here

Look at you. You look mad

It’s scary. There’s something scary about it

It is Barbed Wire Barbie

You like darker, sexier — actually very into Trixie describing Katya’s music taste

You have such a, like, geometrically symmetrical face We want to That’s the goal We hope

Anybody who watches my YouTube videos, did you just hear this person say that my makeup’s symmetrical? Thank you Well I mean the blueprint is We hope

I wanna, I wanna come, I wanna come to these gigs & just watch with binoculars. I wanna see you suffer

It genuinely is wild seeing current day Trixie in this makeup like …

You are very sexy — I somehow missed this the first time around & now I’m listening to the episode on Spotify

Everyone wants to fuck you

Did you save your season 7 finale look? I love that outfit

Who’s the Russian version for? Me

Wait a minute. You answered the door naked? — please you know she’s like okay, Noted.

It was a name I’ve never fucked before

What did you like about this guy?; Do you like that? — I can’t, I can’t

The police are coming right now for you, bitch

Trixie got in season 7 drag & something happened to her brain lol

LMFAO I literally just saw Manila’s TikTok with the Padam Padam parody

We are not talking enough about Margot Robbie’s press looks

I wrote down something I want to talk to you about — this gets me every damn time

Can we talk about Trixie unplugging Katya’s mic after talking about romantic role playing ??

I also love anytime one of them mentions an instance of Katya driving Trixie … I can & I will romanticize them carpooling lol

We were in the car on the way back — we went to Malibu I’m telling you, when I dropped you off

You clued me in on what was going on in your sex life

We were in the car & I noticed that you noticed that I was wearing a packer

You’ve never worn a Speedo? I’m scared Why? You’ve got a big butt. It’ll look great! —

You’d look great in a Speedo

Yeah I feel like when you grow up going to the beach in ME & MA you have a different understanding of ocean temperatures

I fucking love how much Trixie was thinking about P Town on this day

If we hooked up — which would never happen, no matter wh— — ma’am this is a Wendy’s. Honestly, honestly, I’m impressed that it took her this long in the conversation about Katya’s hook up to insert herself into it

That’s a great tone to engage with

Do you wanna fuck that guy again? Well here’s the thing, absolutely Are you gonna date him? I would love to — this is simultaneously so amusing that Trixie is grilling Katya & so cute because Katya is into this guy

I’m not gonna say I manifested this because that’s insane — stop I love this for her

Who would play him? It’s funny to say that unironically

Pierce Brosnan? — listen. One can only hope. Has anyone SEEN the stills from his new project??

That’s what came into my head. That’s weird. It’s not weird, I’m psychic. We’ve talked about it

Not Trixie being surprised Katya showed this man her scar

I love everyone No you don’t

Does … does Trixie not do promo for her dentist?

You held him hostage

Can I touch your hand?

I guess they’d go to the convenience store if they could — I’m sorry but this is so fucking funny

We talked about this We talked about it in private

#kimmy watches #the bald and the beautiful #dostoyevsky in the sheets #oh honeyyyyy #trixya #trixie & katya #katya #katya zamo #katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel

[wetthandss]

The Creature that Opened the Door

(parody creepypasta)

It is a dark night on October the 31th, 2023. The darkness that fell across the land on this night was no ordinary darkness. This was a darkness that was all-encompassing, with the ability to absorb all light that dares stray within it, where the tall, looming street lamps watching over the lifeless street, streaked with roadkill and dried blood, would flicker as if shivering from the cold, cold absence. The cowardly moon was non-existent, hiding from the horror that would be inflicted onto our unexpecting world. Never before in human history was there a night akin to this one. This was an event, an event for the darkest terror that will show its bare body to humanity to prove that fear is more real than we thought. It was a darkness that now makes the very lights in my room flicker, as I sit here and type in an adrenaline-fueled craze to you, creepypastaforums.net, in what could very well be my last moments, as one of these nameless terrors has come for me. 

Before I can even speak of the unknowable grotesquerie intruding  so rudely upon my typically safe and comfortable existence, I must tell you the full story that has lead up to this point, of I, in my Pikachu™ pyjamas, a character from the Pokémon franchise by Game Freak Incorporated and Nintendo Company, Limited, cowering on my grey bed sheets surrounded by a fortress of grey pillows and tented within my grey blanket, typing frantically on my HP Laptop 15-dy2xxx. The panic in my heart is so great that I’m afraid that the fear contained within the electrical currents of my fingers as I slam them onto the beige metallic keys will pass deep into the system, such that I may overload the 11th Gen Intel(R) Core(TM) i5-1135G7 @ 2.40GHz, 2401 Mhz, 4 Core(s), 8 Logical Processor(s), and cut my desperate and urgent message to the people of this forum short. It is my greatest hope that this does not occur before I can retrieve your aid, so I will write with the utmost brevity and in the most economical nature I can muster. 

You may wonder why this is my first route of attaining help, so I give you this; I come to you only because I truly believe that you, the internet creepypasta community, will believe my story. You, who are accustomed to reading fictional stories like this on a daily basis, I assure you this is no fiction. What you are reading is very very non-fiction, and the current events that will transpire in the rest of this post are in fact happening to me at this very moment. If you are reading this… Please continue reading to the very end. I request your help immediately with these very pressing matters, threatening my very life with death; or worse. However, to truly help me with my dire plight, the context of the day must be established. 

This morning was a morning like any other. At eight o’clock ante meridiem, central standard time, I awoke from a pleasant dream. In that morning’s episode of wistful sleep-fantasy, I was farming oversized pieces of candy corn in a wide, flat and halloween-coloured field. Upon waking, I reflected on what this could mean, as I am a believer that dreams are the transporters of messages from our subconscious to our conscious selves (Criticise me in the comments all you want, I do not care and will block with impunity). I believe that I had this dream due to my affinity for the Halloween season, which with today being the day of October 31st, has reached its climax after much anticipation. Ever since I was but a wee babe toddling in the streets, I have loved the holiday known as Halloween. Being not just socially allowed but encouraged to dress in a thin plastic mockery of my favourite fictional characters such as Batman™ from DC Comics, Incorporated and Bumblebee™ from the Transformers™ franchise owned by Hasbro, Incorporated. Now, at the age of eight, my interest in Halloween has not dampened. I consider it my favourite holiday, and over the years the joy of the season has only increased exponentially.. 

After waking up from the dream, a slow process that took around 20.2 minutes before I was able to rip my lethargic body off from the grey bed sheets, wearing my signature Pikachu™ pyjamas of course. I drank the goblet of water waiting for me at my bedside desk and stood up. I took in the familiar sights, sounds, and smells around me. My black glass desk was exactly where I left it last night, against the wall and at the corner of my bed, where I set my various items that I make use of while lying in bed at night, such as my water goblet, my books, and this very laptop that I write this urgent message to you on. I do a lot of my professional work at this desk, and it has served me very well over the years. My tall cupboards were set against the far wall, containing my favourite paraphernalia from various children’s toy franchises and video game memorabilia. The most notable of these assorted models was my LEGO™ collection, which I am quite proud of. It contains many models of my own making, such as a giant clam with an engine on its shell or my masterpiece, a cool aeroplane flame decal on its sides. 

A second, larger desk sits across my bed, set against the wall opposite my bed. Taking up the entire surface of the desk at its top is a glass terrarium, the comfortable warm home of my beloved pet lizard, Bad Omen, who needed his terrarium’s light turned on each and every morning. I glided deftly to the terrarium, and reached behind to flip the small lightswitch that activates his heat lamps, which brings beautiful light and warmth to his utopian little world. As I leaned forward, I noticed something very wrong with Bad Omen. While usually he would be lying there, poking his head out from the small rock-like dome he enjoys slumbering within, his angry eyes closed shut until his very own personal sunrise, now he was lying with his entire body out of his rock-like dome, and lying on his back rather than his belly. His eyes were wide open and hyperrealistic, which is actually considerably normal considering he is in fact a real lizard, and for the rest of the circumstances surrounding the orientation of this poor lizard, and for whom I must repeat again his name is Bad Omen, and whose eyes were bleeding profusely, having already filled a few millimetres of the tank. The blood continued to pour out, I thought it must have been going on for hours before my waking. I screamed and pulled away from the tank, beginning to wail for my loss. 

My dear mummy heard my cries, and swiftly rushed into my room to check up on me and investigate  why I was screaming. The first thing she saw as she came into the room was my wide open mouth, my uvula undulating with the force of my screams, big stupid infant tears streaming down my face from my wavering and watery pathetic eyes, bloodshot from the raw emotion pouring through them. The second thing my mother saw was that which my nimble index finger was pointing towards across the room, to Bad Omen’s terrarium, where he lay dead in a pool of crimson. She, too, could not help but scream at the sight, but her senses caught up with her and she ran from my room to get her forklift. She drove down the hallway and into my room, and used it to lift the terrarium up and transport it from my room. As the sight of my dead pet left me, I stopped crying, and as my mother came back to my room she held me, comforted me and let me breastfeed from her teat. I quickly calmed down, and wiped the remaining fat tears from my eyes with the yellow sleeve of my Pikachu™ pyjamas. My mother patted me on the head and promised me an excellent breakfast, which she had just finished and laid out on the dining room table. 

I followed my mother out for breakfast. She was not lying, my mother had indeed constructed a magnificent feast, which was laid out expertly on the table. The blue and white floral tablecloth was spread out smoothly, the gorgeous background for a banquet of Honey Smacks™ cereal (property of Kellanova) and a tall goblet of orange juice. I sat at my end of the table, and waited for my mother to seat herself at the other end. For five minutes I waited, drooling from my eager and hungry mouth as she walked to the other, very far end of the dining table. The thought of my freshly deceased pet left my mind as the chemical smell of the cereal wafted into my nose, my olfactory senses overloaded with the smell of 40.4 grams of sugar. My mother sat down across from me, shooting off her flare to signal me to begin eating. The next 4 minutes were spent consuming the cereal and juice, which I enjoyed immensely. This was my standard Monday breakfast. I also did not have school today, nor would I have school until Wednesday, which is tomorrow days away at the time that I am writing this dire warning to you, but I am afraid that I may not survive to the next day, as the beast, whatever it may be, whatever combination of horrors the universe has in its utter cruelty hath given to me, is at my door. It is however of the utmost importance that I continue to tell you the sequence of events that lead to the present moment, so that you may aid me, or, if the worst comes to pass, not make the same mistakes as me. 

After I had finished breakfast, my mother walked back to my end of the table and wiped my chin, specked with milk and orange juice, with a tissue. She shot the tissue into the trash can as if she were a professional basketball player throwing a professional basketball into a professional basketball hoop. This amused me, I found it humorous to treat a waste object such as a used tissue as if it were a sports ball. I giggled joyously, and my mother reciprocated the emotion, giggling to herself. It was a grand sight to see her smiling. These days, in the cold autumn in my hometown of somewhere in the northeastern United States, the clouds grey the skies for weeks at a time, the sun taking a vacation from its work upon the world and leaving many of us to fall into a spiral of grey-triggered depression and melancholy. This affected my mother annually, who had enough on her plate. She had a very busy day job as a waitress in a local cafe, and as a drive-thru manager in a local McDonald’s™ franchise, and as a delivery driver for Amazon™, and as a barista in a local coffee shop, and as a baker in a local bakery, and as a preschool teacher in the local preschool. Her mood had, I admit, rubbed off on me as well, but now that the long weekend was sinking in I was made happy, despite the fright and grief of the morning. 

This would soon change to the worst once again as the day would progress. Despite not having to attend school that day, I still had a mountainous pile of homework to do, arranged in a stack of paper. Dozens of sheets of coloured construction paper waiting for me to stain them with foul-smelling markers, listing my favourite foods, people, and testing my knowledge of some basic verbs of the English language, which I am quickly becoming highly proficient in. This stack of papers assigned to me was based at the floor, and was constructed upwards so far that it towered over my head. I was not intimidated. Gracefully I reached up, my feet erecting themselves onto their tippy-toes, and took with great precision a single sheet of orange paper from the very top. As I turned the paper over, to my horror, there were no fun educational instructions on its face, but a charcoal drawing of some horrid obscure creature resembling a dog with eyes lined down its neck. Disgusted and frustrated I crumpled the paper in my fists, deducing that my homework must have been sabotaged by a fellow classmate or perhaps my mother trying to play one of her classic “Halloween tricks”. 

As I stole another sheet of thick, sharp paper, green this time, from the peak of the sensitive mountain, an avalanche was compelled by gravity and the slight force of my pull to collapse onto me. I toppled to the ground in shock. As the papers flew about me and floated to the floor, I saw that there was that very same shadowy canine monster pressed upon each and every paper, my homework was no longer. I was severely perturbed. I gathered up the papers and threw them into the dark, rank pit of the trash bin. Good riddance to these abominable things. I set out to interrogate my mother about these papers, but she granted me no answers, insisting that I had vandalised my own homework. I took her to the trash bin to demonstrate that the homework had been replaced by the black scrawls, but I was utterly flabbergasted when I discovered that the papers, all but none, had disappeared. My mother chastised me for distracting her as she was just heading out of the house to work, and I felt a hot wash of shame flow through my body as I considered her words. Was I losing my mind? Had it all been a hallucination, inspired by the tragedy of my poor sweet pet Bad Omen’s death in the night? I shoved the thoughts from my head, and instead reflected on a newfound triumph. There is no homework, so I am free to do whatever I please for the rest of the day! 

I decided I wanted to play some video games on my Apple iPad™. My favourite video games at this time are Minecraft Pocket Edition™, Roblox™, and Skibidi Toilet Attackers (Season 15), a classic from the old internet. I ran gleefully to my room and slammed my door behind me, and threw myself onto the large blue bean bag resting limp in the corner of my room. My iPad™ is left beside it, for my own convenience. I pick it up and turn it on, then I navigate, using my fingers on the smooth touch-screen display, to find the Minecraft™ application. Upon finding the desired application, I pressed my finger to its icon, a signal to the domesticated machine in my hands that there is something that I want, that it can and will provide me. It understands, and obeys like a whipped horse. Minecraft™ opens to its title screen. Nothing was amiss so far, however, you will soon see where things went so tremendously awry. I pressed the “single player” button, and found my existing Minecraft™ world. 

You see, in Minecraft, players explore a blocky, procedurally generated, three-dimensional world with virtually infinite terrain. Players can discover and extract raw materials, craft tools and items, and build structures, earthworks, and machines. Depending on their chosen game mode, players can fight hostile mobs, as well as cooperate with or compete against other players in the same world. Game modes include a survival mode (in which players must acquire resources to build in the world and maintain health) and a creative mode (in which players have unlimited resources and access to flight). The game's large community also offers a wide variety of user-generated content, such as modifications, servers, skins, texture packs, and custom maps, which add new game mechanics and possibilities. 

I was not playing with any of these modifications, but my own personal world, which I have been constructing for two years now. Upon entering my world, I appear in the game-world exactly where I had left off last time, as expected. I had just finished harvesting my crops, a 9x9 plot of wheat with the block in the centre replaced with water to keep the plants growing quickly. The wheat was in my inventory, a space that contains all the items that I pick up during the course of the game, but there was something… Off about it. My eagle-like eyes picked up on the subtle difference in the pixel art sprite of the “wheat” item. I wondered to myself if this was an update, or small patch that had been made to the game while I was gone. I brought the screen closer to my inquisitive eyes and peered at the wheat sprite. There was indeed something different. It was animated, with a swarm of small dark pixels that resembled bugs seeming to crawl all over the bundle of wheat. I was confused, but thought that perhaps this was part of some Halloween update, as the Minecraft™ developers have been known to do in the past, which may add some unexpected and creepy features and minor changes to the game to fit the theme of the Halloween season. 

At this, I was excited. However, when I attempted to craft my wheat into bread, by placing three wheat in a horizontal row on the 3x3 crafting grid on the crafting table, the bread came out looking mouldy and gross much like the other Minecraft™ item known as a poisonous potato. This I also assumed was part of the update, but as I brought the bread into my inventory I saw the name of the item, dread filled my heart. It was not named “bread”. It was named “Narrator, you have been CURSED”. I screamed and threw my iPad™ across the room. How did the game know my name was Narrator? Nowhere did I feed the machine this information, even the parental controls on the device do not reference mine or my mother’s real name anywhere. The traitorous device shattered into 1 million pieces upon colliding with my metal bed frame. I was not distressed by its violent demise. No longer did I ever want to look at the thing. I left the sharp metal and glass shards dispersed on the multi coloured shag carpet. I had no spoons left for the terrifying happenings and goings on of the day. I simply required a short rest. I decided to take a nap in my bed. 

I hastily climbed right into it, and pulled myself under my thick grey blankets. I realised now that I was still wearing my pyjamas from last night. They were a comfort object for me, as I have had them for a long time, since I was but a babe, an infant as it were. When I was a red squirming infant, my mother bestowed upon me these pyjamas, but due to an ordering mixup they were far too large for my infantile size, so I eagerly awaited my entire youth to grow taller, wider, fatter, so that I could one day fit within the yellow frame of the itchy fabric. On my eighth birthday, just last year, I was able to fit the pyjamas on. It was the happiest day of my life. I will someday outgrow it, the wrists will some day get tighter, the hood will pull shorter, but for now, I was in a blissful realm of cosplay completion that I could enjoy for two years more or so. I drifted off to sleep, and began a dream taking place in the Pokémon world, with myself placed in the role of the Pokémon trainer. 

I was in the hometown of the main character of the franchise, Ash Ketchum, in the small settlement of Palette town in the Kanto region (Of the Pokémon world, not real world Japan). My mother had just slimily kissed me on the forehead and sent me on my way to Professor Oak’s house to acquire and battle Pokémon creatures, and begin my long, adventurous Pokémon journey, where I would travel the land and collect gym badges from skilled Pokémon trainers. Upon arriving at Professor Oak’s house and laboratory, just across the street, I saw that the windows were blackened. I peeked inside. What I saw changed the nice, lighthearted dream into a cruel nightmare. Professor Oak had one of these Pokémon creatures, resembling an orange salamander with a flame-tipped tail, named Charmander, on a surgeon’s table, an audience of note-taking laboratory assistants surrounding him on bleachers. The lights in the room were off, save just a few bright white pointed spotlights beaming down on the Professor and the vivisected Pokémon. The Charmander looks towards the door as I peek in, and whispers, exasperated; “Char…” (as Pokémon are known to make vocalisations that sound similar to their names, and it is an open question in the Pokémon universe whether the Pokémon are named after their vocalisations or if it is the other way around. On one hand, it would be quite the strange implication if the Pokémon, especially wild ones, were privy to the names that humans give them, and conformed to speaking that name repetitively, even communicating with each other using that name. On the other hand, the existence of Pokémon such as Mr. Mime, who speaks his own name “Mr. Mime”, is even weirder to some, as well as many Pokémon names being a sort of pun or portmanteau representing the theming of a particular Pokémon). 

Professor Oak looks up at me and pulls his surgical mask down, and the smile on his face was indescribable. It was wide enough to reach the ears, and tall enough to make his nose non-existent. Half of his entire face was taken by the grin. He had no teeth, but disgusting gross revolting nasty yucky icky gross gums, and a short stubby blunt pink gross narsty tongue. His maw was a black hole, whatever entered, even light was lost, annihilated. He brought up the Charmander from the table and, pleading and squirming, it was thrown into his mouth, where it disappeared entirely. He pointed at me and laughed a ghastly (no relation to the Pokémon™) laugh, unlike anything I have heard before. It reminded me immediately of the iconic Kefka laugh from Final Fantasy 6™ and infamous for its use in the Sonic.EXE creepypasta. The indescribable horrible laugh sounded something like “woopwoopwoopwoop”. I snope awake from the nightmare. 

My Pikachu™ pyjamas were drenched with sweat, filled to the brim, making me resemble an inflated version of this Pokémon™. As I let my full-frontal zipper down, the sweat flowed out like a waterfall, soaking my bed with the foul yellow fluid. I ran out of my room, a grave mistake in my compromised clothing situation. My mother had brought my friend Aiden from school to our house. I completely forgot we had a playdate today, and there I was, naked down to my underwear, Pikachu™ pyjamas wrapped around my ankles, soaked in sweat, shocked eyes of a prey animal caught by a predator. My hair instantly turned white from fear. Aiden and my mother stared at me for a moment too long for my heart to bear, and then began pointing and laughed at me, just like Professor Oak in the nightmare. My mind broke, I defecated in my pants and ran back down the hallway. It seemed endless to me now, I felt that I could never escape the ever-increasing volume of the laughter, it became deafening in my ears. I ran back into my room and slammed the door just in time for my eardrums to avoid rupture, pushing up my sick gamer chair against the doorknob so that no one, or no thing, could come in. I ran and threw my soiled underpants into the laundry hamper. 

Majestically avoiding the broken glass from the iPad™, I shot under my bed, lying flat and heaving heavy huffing breaths. The sweat that had soaked into my bed earlier dripped onto me, puddling on the floor. My entire body was wet, like I was spelunking in a flooding cave. That embarrassing mistake, which on any other day would be one that could be laughed off and forgotten, today, I felt was the end of it all. By stepping out into the kitchen I had really sealed my fate. The moment that bleak thought sank into my mind the bedframe collapsed, strained by the weight of the sweat soaked into the mattress. My mattress fell onto me, a large wet sponge crushing me under water weight. I felt that I was again an infant being born, but instead of a warm loving parent to welcome me into the world there is instead a cold, dead mattress and a wet carpeted floor covered in broken glass. I heard banging at my door, two pairs of fists; my mother and Aiden. Adrenaline pumping through my eight-year-old body, I squirmed and squeezed my way out from inside the womb of polyurethane foam and came out screaming, glass shards ripping into my skin, just like the day I was born. The knocking on my door stopped in an instant. For a moment I thought that I should perhaps unblock the door and take a small peek out into the hallway. I did not do that though. Instead, I decided to play with my LEGO™s. 

I pulled the container containing my many thousands of LEGO™s out from the drawer. They were of many shapes and colours, made up of dozens of disassembled sets. I only kept a few complete at a time, which I displayed on my cupboards. The rest were doomed to be separated into disparate pieces until I built up the determination to pick through my vast collection one piece at a time and put them together very slowly. I decided to forgo preset instructions and construct an item out of my own imagination, which I believe to be grand and beautiful. I decided that I was going to construct a frog. As I began putting pieces together, I soon noticed that the entire house had been completely quiet. If my friend Aiden and my mother were home, especially if they had become scary monsters, surely there would be some noise. As soon as I thought this, as if responding to my thoughts, a large banging sound began pounding out from the kitchen. I started, my hackles raised and noxious chemical fluid began leaking from the glands in my evapatoria, coating my thoracic exoskeleton. 

As I took a panicked look around my room, I noticed something horrible. My LEGO™s were scattered all across the carpet along with the broken glass. They were everywhere, a random scattered arrangement with many blending into my carpet. My room had become a minefield. Panic began to sink in. If I for some reason had to move across my room very quickly, I would not be able to get across my floor without stepping on one of these devices of podiatric torture. I breathed out a sigh of relief that nothing so urgent was presently occurring, but was forced to suck the sigh back in when the banging from the kitchen began to move. It did not move down the hallway, or into another room of the house, no, no. The banging moved underneath the house, I heard the strikes of spooky feets against the metal of the air ducts and the bending of HVAC tubes. The air register in my room began to reek a foul odour, overpowering my own. The sound was travelling through the air conditioning system coming full speed straight towards my room. 

I looked at the hazardous carpet, covered in high-quality plastic caltrops. I gulped a tennis ball sized gulp and with my superior and powerful survival instincts I dashed across the carpet. My feet stung as they were pierced a thousand times over by irregularly shaped blocks, I could not prepare myself for each step. My velvety foot pads, free of calluses and hardship, were being put to the test. After 87 gruelling, sprinting steps, I made it to my door just as something burst forth from my air vent. I grabbed my sick gamer chair and, with a single tear shed for another deep loss this day, I threw it behind me. I dared not even look back at the thing as it came out of the vent. I was in the hallway, and slammed my door. Something wet and large locomoted across my floor, and I heard a high, gruesome screech from what I assume was contact with the deadly traps on my floor. I took the chance to run down the hallway, entering my bathroom. I had planned to just escape my house, but I glanced through the bathroom window and decided completely against it. Outside the window was that perfect darkness of terror that I had mentioned before, do you remember? 

If you do not remember how bloodcurdling and malicious this darkness was, please go back to the beginning of this call for help for a quick refresher, then return here. I will provide a bookmark within the post (or .pdf if you are receiving a document form of this) so you can easily find this spot again, and know where to continue reading. As I do not have time to format this plea into a proper narrative style, such as including breaks between paragraphs or indents (EDIT: Yes I do but do not get me wrong I am still in immediate danger as I write this!), some readers may find it difficult to read, as it would appear as a single long block of text. This is something that I would most definitely consider if I had more time, but there is something jiggling my bedroom door-knob at this very moment about to enter my room, and the only choice I have is to very quickly write this for anyone in the creepypasta forums to aid me with this situation, either by calling the police (the parental control settings on my iPad forbid me from making phone calls, even emergency ones, and regardless it lies in a million pieces) or by giving me advice on what to do, on the small chance that this has happened to anyone else on these forums, which it couldn’t have had, because as you’ll see as you reread my first few passages in this post, something like this has never happened before. Like I said a moment ago, I will also be distributing this distress signal as a .pdf file, just in case it can reach someone outside of this forum who can help. Without further ado, please refresh yourself with the nature of this night (horror, grisly, generally bad) and return here when you are done.

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

Thank you for refreshing yourself with the context of the darkness outside. Now you can definitely see why I decided not to escape through my bathroom window because of that [adjective] darkness. I must hunker down within the confines of my bathroom, the shield of the bathtub which could deflect even the most tempestuous tornado would surely keep me safe against the hideosity which had recovered from its painful folly and was now chasing down the hallway. I could hear as it slid against the walls, what I could only assume were the falling of wet feet or the sloughing of moist flesh slapping against the ground as it advanced upon my position. It stopped right outside the bathroom door. I slammed the shower curtain shut, and it heard me, as when the curtain made its shrieking noise the monster began to slam against the average strength wooden bathroom door with the ferocity of a cleaner shrimp on the ectoparasites of a fish. It was only a matter of time before the door began to splinter and shatter. The bathtub was strong. The bathtub was an impregnable fortress. I was safe, and the curtain put the thing out of sight. But my mind kept racing. What was I to do now? Wait here until the sun comes up? I had nothing to keep me occupied, I would certainly die of boredom. I knew I had to do something to get rid of the monster. 

I grabbed the shower head from its handle and turned it towards the bathtub’s bottom. I turned the water on as hot as the boiler in the house could handle, and waited until it scalded my skin at the slightest touch, and the room had filled with steam. Readying the handle like an outlaw’s revolver in a wild western standoff, I put a hand on the shower curtain. The monster outside began clicking curiously and I felt its hot corpus nearing my fingers. As quickly as I could, and averting my eyes, I threw the shower curtains open and pulled up the shower head, spraying the near-boiling water onto the creature. It screamed as the noise burst my eardrums, and I heard no more after that. The room filled with so much steam that I could not see even if I did not avert my gaze, I felt that my lungs were being filled with a smooth sea. As the steam cleared, I looked, and the entity was no more. There was nothing but a heap of white viscera on the bathroom floor with the laundry. I almost yelled with victory and shut off the shower after spraying down the last few pulsating cuts of meat on the stained-red tile floor. I was truly safe now, as long as no other STRANGE BEINGS intercepted with my normal life. 

In the shower I cleaned my foul clothing and my own body (not boiling hot of course). After my shower and drying I cleaned the LE™GOs from my floor and got comfy into bed, turning on my laptop to peruse the internet. I noticed that my window blinds were open, so I reached over to close them. My keen hawk-like eyes caught something outside that glinted ever so slightly in the darkness. It was a tall figure, about 6 feet tall, that is, 1.8288 metres in the metric system, or if you are a photon, 1.933057524E-16 lightyears. It stood out in my front yard, and would be completely invisible in the perfect darkness were it not for the slight lighting of the front porch, whose electric lantern was flickering. The figure had an average build, but one thing stood out from its silhouette. A completely cubic head. In a flash it ran to my window, pressing its perfectly square face against it. A sticky green ooze slapped against the window glass and dripped down it slowly. I saw now what the cube resembled, it was a forward facing sticky piston from my favourite video game, Minecraft™! 

From my months of scouring the Minecraft Creepypasta Fandom Wiki, I recognised this entity immediately. I dare not even speak its name here, if you do your own research you will realise what I saw stalking me through my window. I scrum so hard and my peripheral nervous system fired off as if shot with a bullet. I fell off my bed in pain and terror. When I looked back up, the sticky piston monster was gone. Taking its place was a completely different fear, a blank white face on a tall tuxedo-wearing body. It was the Slenderman, but before I could process this change, its appearance morphed once again, it was now Jeff the Killer, now Freddy Fazbear, Lavender Town, SCP-173, the Creepy Smiler, the Grabber, Shadow the Hedgehog, and finally resting on a warped reflection of my own face. 

Worms and weird fishes crawled and swam around my head, emerging from the monster’s nose, and they began to eat away at my face. Its eyes, identical to my own beautiful brown eyes, rolled back in its head, revealing an EVIL version of my eyes on the other side. It did not have a mouth, instead just a small circular hole that hot air blew out from like a leaking steam pipe, fogging up the glass so quickly it looked like it had been snowing outside. I began to smell blood, and looked down at myself. I had fallen on the broken iPad™ glass, and my Pikachu™ pyjamas and skin were cut and penetrated at various small points once again. I did not even feel the pain past the adrenaline pumping through my veins, so I shook the broken glass off and got back in bed, hiding under my covers. I heard the shapeshifter outside slide against the window, walking away, the fallen leaves crunching under its feet. I heard the front door ripped straight off of its wrought iron hinges. It was thrown across the yard I believe, as I heard a loud heavy thud against the leaves and grass in the distance. The footsteps continued into my home, I heard them echo off the kitchen walls, distant, then nearer, nearer and down the hallway and to my door. 

In utter abject horror I realised the worst mistake I would make this entire night. I did not block the door with anything. I threw the blanket off of me, but it was far, far too late. It is here that I must switch to the present tense, as what happens from this point onwards is currently happening to me right now, as I have repeatedly mentioned throughout this post. The ornate gilded doorknob is beginning to slowly turn, I hear its exasperated, monstrous breath bouncing off of the wood of the door with such force, it’s as if it were exhaling a cloud of moths onto it. Please, if anyone sees this, please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please transfer 6000 robux into my roblox account at Wettest_Hands messages are open n links below shows you how 2 do it easy.  I think it is the only thing that can stop this monster. K thx bye

#my #creative writing

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

How is brand Harry & Meghan faring in the US? Not good | Arwa Mahdawi | The Guardian

Is America finally getting bored of Harry and Meghan? It’s starting to look that way. Only a few months ago the pair were media darlings in the US; now they have become a bit of a joke. The animated sitcom South Park gave the first big blow to their stateside brand a couple of weeks ago with an episode featuring a couple bearing an uncanny similarity to the Sussexes. In the episode, titled The Worldwide Privacy Tour, the pair travel the globe with placards saying: “Stop looking at us!” and chanting: “We want privacy!” Harry’s memoir, Spare, is parodied as “Waaaagh”. The couple also get advice from a PR expert who tells them to portray themselves as victims. Not terribly flattering stuff.

Now the comedian Chris Rock has taken aim at the couple in his new Netflix special, Selective Outrage. He dismissed Meghan’s claims about racism in the royal family, saying: “Some of that shit she went through was not racism”, but “in-law” behaviour. He also joked about how it was odd Meghan seemed surprised by the fact the royal family might harbour archaic views. “It’s the royal family! They’re the original racists. They invented colonialism,” Rock said.

Polls also reflect a shift in US-based attitudes towards the pair: their approval ratings have plummeted since the South Park episode. According to polling commissioned for Newsweek, Harry’s popularity has dropped 48 points since December and Meghan’s is down 40. Now Prince Andrew, the guy who palled around with a convicted sex offender, has higher US approval ratings than the Sussexes. Though, to be fair, that seems to be because fewer people in the US know about Andrew’s tawdry dealings than they do in the UK. Because Andrew isn’t parading himself on the US media 24/7 like Harry and Meghan, it’s easier for someone stateside to forget who he is. If only we all had that luxury.

How are Harry and Meghan responding to this seeming shift in attitudes? Well, let’s just say they haven’t exactly put out a statement saying they think Rock and South Park are hilarious and they love nothing more than laughing at themselves, ha ha ha. On the contrary, there were rumours that they were so upset by the South Park episode that they were considering legal action. While they’re certainly fans of calling their lawyers, a representative for the couple told the Guardian that reports the pair might sue were “baseless” and “boring”.

I’ll tell you what’s really boring: the neverending pity-me-please performance the two are foisting upon us. As a staunch anti-royalist I was sympathetic to the couple to begin with – my enemy’s enemy is my friend and all that – but the constant oversharing has jumped the shark. Particularly since it becomes more obvious by the day that their grievances are less to do with systemic inequality and more to do with feeling they didn’t get a big enough slice of the born-with-privilege pie. I mean, come on, you can’t go around complaining about how backwards the royals are while insisting that we plebs refer to you as Duke and Duchess. You want some credibility? 

Give up your stupid titles.

Another unsolicited piece of advice for Duke and Duchess: read the socioeconomic room! You may have noticed that “eat the rich” storylines are a big theme on TV at the moment. From the latest season of Netflix’s You to the White Lotus to Succession, there are more rich-people-are-awful-sociopaths storylines on the telly than you can shake a silver spoon at. This isn’t a weird coincidence. It’s been noted that storylines about rich people tend to vary depending on the economic climate: in good times onscreen obscene wealth can be enjoyable escapism; in bad times it’s more of a hate-watch. And, I don’t need to tell you, the world is currently going through “you need to take out a second mortgage to buy eggs” sort of times.

Finally, Harry: I know you weren’t exactly the most committed student, but maybe pick up a history book. The US has something of a reputation for losing patience with British aristocrats.

Arwa Mahdawi is a Guardian columnist

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#revenge #tom bower #strip the sussex titles #worldwide privacy tour #megxit #frogxit #fraud and fraudess #spare us #like a spare