I was tagged?!?
Woah! It’s been a long time since I’ve been tagged in a thingy so this is incredibly weird and likely no one actually cares lmao, but I was tagged by @nepptunes to share 10 songs I’m really into at the moment!
I don’t have a lot of music on my phone because I’m dumb and haven’t downloaded anything in like forever. I’m also broke which doesn’t help lol. But regardless, let’s begin shall we? These are in no particular order!!!
1. Babylon - 5SOS
Y’all I’m such a hoe for Calum Hood and so this is his song on the album and what the actual fuck it’s so good I’m 😍
2. Papaoutai - Stromae
Okay so this is a song that I listened to in high school in French and I’ve recently just started listening to some French songs to try and stay on top of my bilingualism as possible, and this one stands out a lot for me!
3. AND - Ariana Dove
Okay. Ariana is a very small artist that recently wrote an entire album and she’s only 17!!! I feel like I relate most to this song because I can hear the desperation in her voice which I can definitely feel in my heart with my own experiences. Go listen to her album Dark Energy y’all it’s so good.
4. Back of My Hand - Down With Webster
Okay okay okay. So this band broke up a hella long time ago but I first heard this song after I found out my boyfriend at the time was cheating on me while literally three provinces away and I was heartbroken. This song just emotionally understands that pain I felt when I found out and after hearing it live I stopped feeling like I was alone for a while.
5. Two Ghosts - Harry Styles
Y’all know I’m a huge 1D stan and I adore all of their music as solo artists (minus Zayn. Still pissed at him lmao) Harry has such a distinctly unique and beautiful voice and this song just resonates with me. I feel nostalgic in a way, talking about how many relationships I’ve messed up or lost. Tears man.
6. On the Borderline - Thomas Sanders (Joan)
Okay y’all are very aware that I love this man with my entire being and Joan wrote this beautiful song for Thomas to sing and any time I hear it I want to cry. It’s beautifully written and beautifully sung. The line “they said son don’t change, and I keep hoping they won’t see how much I have” really hits me in the heart. I’m no longer a young teenager hiding in the closet out of fear that I would never be understood, but Thomas introduced me to the world of non binary through Joan and Talyn and I finally felt like I could be myself, as scary as it is.
7. Empty Wallets - 5SOS
Another 5sos song... is anyone really surprised? Didn’t think so. I have literally no idea why I love this song so much but it’s my jam. It just has a really cool vibe and it’s really catchy. It also brings to light how being in the “glamourous” life is not always how it seems.
8. Just Like You - Louis Tomlinson
oKAY YALL THIS IS MY SON SO BUCKLE UP. This is such a unique song in how it communicates with the listener. Most songs use metaphors and similes to convey how they feel about being human just like the rest of us, but my boy, my pride and joy, is so blunt and doesn’t beat around the bush about how exhausting it is and how he wishes sometimes he wasn’t as big as he is now. I’m just incredibly proud of him and once that album drops I’m literally going to die I will see you in hell yall.
9. Mirrors - Niall Horan
I warned you that I was a really big 1D stan. I was not kidding. Okay so this song struck a chord in my heart. It basically talks about how I felt when I was younger. I have a lot of emotional baggage that I’m still dealing with and this song just describes the feeling so accurately. I truly feel like I’m understood in this song. Everything in this song is true. (Well, minus the pronouns but eh it’s fine)
10. When - Dodie Clark
Okay so Dodie is a master a lyrics and I feel so in tune with this song. She has a soft spoken voice that sounds very scared in this song and I relate very heavily to this song. I feel as though I was forced into saying I love you when I’m the one romantic relationship I’ve been in, but I don’t think I was in love. He said it after our first phone conversation late at night and it should have been a red flag, but I was too wrapped up in the honeymoon phase of dating and I wish I could have just noticed. This song points out so many things I’ve felt.
Okay now I gotta tag people oh man I don’t feel like I know enough people lmao okay um @super-mans-dead @livinlifeincolour @ren-allen @justyncase
(Okay now I’m tagging people who will literally never see this lmao) @colliscool @thatsthat24 @thejoanglebook @tallykat3
Alright I’m leaving to go back to mindlessly scrolling through this dumpster fire of a website/app and pretend that everything is okay and I’m not dead inside! Bye!
~Riv 👑
3 notes
·
View notes
New Fic?
I’m absolutely in love with Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and I realized that certain characters “match-up”, so I made a fic!
THE ENTIRE PLOT AND MOST OF THE DIALOG IS WRITTEN BY THE GROUP MONTY PYTHON! I’M JUST CHANGING CHARACTER NAMES, SOME PLOT POINTS, AND WRITING THE DESCRIPTION PARTS
If you’d like to be added to the taglist (there will be more parts) just ask! :)
Taglist: @sander-fander-sides
~~~
“Woah there!” Thomas pulled the reins of his horse, forcing it to stop as they neared the castle. Thomas was on a mission to find knights to join him at his court in Camelot, and he was finding it rather difficult.
“Halt!” A guard cried from atop the tower wall, “Who goes there?”
“It is I, Thomas,” He yelled, trying to be heard from the ground, “Son of Uther Pendragon, from the castle of Camelot! King of the Gays, defeater of the homophobes and transphobes, Sovereign of all Florida!” He paused, waiting for the reaction; he normally was greeted with bows and trumpets, but so far...nothing from this particular castle. “I have ridden the length and breadth of the land in search of knights who will join me in my court at Camelot!” Nothing; no offer for a feast, no red carpet on the ground. Nothing. “I must speak to your lord and master.”
“What? Ridden on a horse?”
“Umm, yes I traveled here on my trusty steed!”
“You’re using jars of jam!” Thomas was startled; he most definitely was not.
“What?”
“You’ve got two jars of Crofters Jam and you’re banging them together!”
“So?” Thomas continued anyway, “I have ridden since the snows of winter covered this land, through the kingdom of Orlando, through--”
“Where’d you get the jars?”
“I found them!” He called back; he didn’t really see the point of all this, he just wanted to talk to the lord of the castle.
“Found them? In Orlando? Crofters in Canadian!”
“What do you mean?” Now Thomas was very confused.
“Well this is Southern America.”
“The swallow may fly south with the sun or the house martin or the plover may seek warmer climes in winter, yet are these not strangers to our land?” The guard paused; Thomas smirked, he decided that his logic had finally gotten through the thick helmet of his.
“Are you suggesting Crofters Jars migrate?”
Thomas sighed, “Not at all! They could be carried!”
“What,” the guard said sarcastically, “A swallow carrying a jar of Crofters?”
“Well,” Thomas thought for a moment, “it could grip it by the lid!”
“It’s not a question of where he grips it! It’s a simple question of weight ratios!” The guard stared at Thomas as though he were an idiot, “A five ounce bird could not carry a one pound jar.”
“Well it doesn’t matter!” Thomas yelled, getting frustrated; he just wanted to talk to the master of the castle. “Will you go and tell your master that Thomas from the Court of Camelot is here?”
“Listen,” the guard continued, clearly not paying attention to anything Thomas was saying, “In order to maintain air-speed velocity, a swallow needs to beat its wings forty-three times every second, right?”
“Please!” Thomas cried; he was so tired.
“Am I right?”
“I don’t care!” Another guard entered the area, probably trying to see what all the fuss was about. Thomas sighed in relief; finally something would get done.
“It could be carried by an African swallow?”
“Oh yeah, an African swallow maybe, but not an American. That’s my point.”
“Oh I agree with that.” Thomas banged his head against his shield (which he carried at his side).
“Will you please ask your master if he wants to join my court a Camelot?!”
“But then,” the first guard continued, “African swallows are non-migratory.”
“Oh yeah.”
“So they couldn’t bring a jar of Crofters back anyway.” Thomas started to leave; he figured nothing productive would happen, and he had so many more castles to stop at. As he left, he heard the last remaining exchanges of the guards.
“Wait! Suppose two swallows carried it together?”
“Nah, they’d have to have it on a line.”
“Old woman!” Thomas called, seeing a peasant in the distance.
“Non-Binary!”
“Oh, Non-Binary, sorry.” He dismissed the mistake, then continued, “What knight lives in that castle over there?”
“I’m thirty-seven.”
“I--what?” Thomas was very confused now; he had been travelling all day and just wanted to talk to the knight.
“I’m thirty-seven. I’m not old.”
“Well,” Thomas said, trying to defend himself, “I can’t just call you ‘Person’.”
“Well you could say ‘Joan’.”
“Well I didn’t know you were called ‘Joan’.”
“Didn’t bother to find out, did you?”
“I did say sorry about the old woman, but from the behind you looked--”
“What I object to is that you automatically treat me like an inferior!”
Thomas was taken aback, “Well I am King!”
“Oh King eh, very nice. And how’d you get that, eh? By exploiting the workers! By ‘anging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society. If there’s ever going to be any progress with the--”
“Joan!” Another peasant called, “there’s some lovely filth down here! Oh! How d’you do?”
“How do you do good lady?” Thomas called.
“Talyn’s non-binary too!” Joan interjected.
“Oh,” Thomas said embarrassed, “sorry Talyn. I am Thomas, King of the Gays. Whose castle is that?”
“King of the who?” The Talyn asked.
“The Gays!”
“Who are the gays?” The same peasant asked.
“Well, we are. We are all Gays, and I am your King.”
“I didn’t know we had a King,” Talyn continued, “I thought we were an autonomous collective.”
“You’re fooling yourself,” Joan snapped, “We’re living in a dictatorship: a self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes--”
“Oh there you go,” Talyn interrupted, rolling their eyes, “bringing class into it again.”
“Well that’s what it’s all about! If only people would hear of--”
“Please!” Thomas cried, “Please, good people. I am in haste. Who lives in that castle?”
“No one lives there,” Talyn said, confused as Thomas’ lack of information.
“Then who is your lord?” Thomas was almost in anxious tears; first the swallow guards and now the political peasants.
“We don’t have a lord.”
“What?” Thomas had made sure every plot of land had a lord when he divided the land years ago!
“I told you,” Joan said, “We’re an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take it in turns to act as a sort of executive officer for the week…” they paused, making sure Thomas was keeping up (which Thomas found infuriating.), “...but all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting...by a simple majority in the case of more affairs...but by a two-thirds majority in the case of a more major--”
Thomas had had enough, so he snapped, “Be quiet! I order you to be quiet!”
“Order eh?” Talyn laughed, “Who does he think he is?”
“I am your King!”
“I didn’t vote for you.”
“You don’t vote for Kings,” Thomas explained.
“Well how did you become King then?”
“The Lady of the Lake,” he turned to the skies, explaining the tale of his mightiness, “her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, helf aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water signifying that Divine Providence that I, Thomas, was to carry Excalibur.” He turned back to the peasants, before continuing harshly, “That is why I am King.”
“Listen,” Joan said, “Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.”
“Be quiet!” Thomas yelled.
“Well,” Talyn continued Joan’s thought, “you can’t expect to wield supreme executive power just ‘cause some watery tart threw a sword at you!”
“Shut Up!”
“Exactly,” Joan said, agreeing with Talyn. “If I went ‘round saying I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me, they’d put me away!”
Thomas, in his fury, reached out to Joan and started shaking them by their frock, “Shut up, will you? Shut Up!”
“Ah,” Talyn said, “now we see the violence inherent in the system!”
“Shut Up!” Thomas yelled, furious.
“Oi!” Joan yelled through the shaking of his body, “Come and see the violence inherent in the system!” More peasants crawled over to watch the comotion, “Help! Help!” They cried, “I’m being repressed!”
As Thomas walked away, he grumbled, “Bloody peasants!”
“Oh what a give-away,” Talyn yelled, “Did you hear that? That’s what we’re on about! Did you see him repressing us? You saw it didn’t you?”
“A witch! A witch! Burn her! Burn her! Burn the witch!” Logan looked off into the crowd of villagers, all of whom were pleaing for another witch burning.
“We have found a witch. May we burn her?” One of the villagers asked.
“How do you know she is a witch?” Logan asked; he wanted to make sure she was actually a witch, as they had once burned a lady who was not, and he had been reprimanded fiercely.
“She looks like one!” Another called out in the crowd.
“Bring her forward,” Logan decreed.
“I’m not a witch, I’m not a witch,” The lady whined.
“But you are dressed like one?” Logan asked. And it was true, the lady, dressed in a long dress, a pointed hat, and bearing an abnormally large nose, really did appear to be a witch.
“They dressed me up like this!” She cried.
“We didn’t!” The crowd roared, though Logan noticed that some shifted around uncomfortably.
“And this isn’t my nose!” The lady exclaimed, “It’s a false one.”
“Well?” Logan turned towards the villagers.
“We did do the nose…” they admitted.
“And the hat?” Logan inquired.
“Yeah, but she is a witch!”
“Did you dress her up like this?”
“No!” Logan looked at them, and under the scrutiny of his gaze, they finally admitted, “Yeah… a bit...But she has got a wart!”
Someone in the crowd coughed, as they realized that they were most likely not going to be allowed to burn her. “What,” Logan asked, “makes you think she is a witch?”
“She turned me into a newt!” One villager offered.
“A newt?”
He paused, realizing that he was in fact not a newt, “I got better?”
“Burn her anyway!” The villagers chanted.
“Quiet! Quiet! There are ways of telling if she is a witch.” The villagers quieted down, then proceeded to listen with open ears. “Tell me,” Logan asked, “what do you do with witches?”
“Burn!” The crowd roared.
“And what do you burn apart from witches?”
“More witches!”
“Shh!” Another villager hushed his mate.
“Wood?”
“So why do witches burn?” Logan offered.
“Because...they’re...made of...wood?” One villager asked nervously.
“Good! So how do we tell that she is made of wood?”
“Burn a bridge out of her?”
“Ah,” Logan said, “but can you not also make a bridge out of stone?”
“Oh yeah,” the villager said, “true…”
After a few minutes of thinking, Logan prompted the villagers, “Does wood sink in water?”
“No!” They shouted, realization dawning on them.
“What else floats in water?” Logan asked.
“Bread!”
“Apples!”
“Very small rocks!”
“Gravy!”
“Cider!”
“Mud!”
“A duck.” Thomas shouted across the noise, making his presence known and s\answer heard throughout the square.
“Exactly!” Logan said, impressed. “So logically…”
“If...she...weighs...the same as a duck...she’s made of wood?” One of the villagers asked.
“And therefore…”
“A witch!”
“Exactly! Logan shouted, glad that they had finally reached a conclusion. “I’ll grab my largest scales.” As the mob forced the lady on to the scales, they cried in triumph as the conclusion balanced in their favor. “Who are you who are so wise in the ways of science?” Logan asked Thomas.
“I am Thomas, King of the Gays.”
“My liege!” Logan cried hurriedly before bowing.
“Good Sir Knight,” Thomas said, “will you come with me to Camelot and join us at the Round Table?”
“My liege! I would be honored!”
“What is your name?”
“Logan, me liege.”
“Then I dub thee Sir Logan, Knight of the Round Table.”
The wise Sir Logan was the first to join King Thomas’ knights, but other illustrious names were soon to follow: Sir Roman, the Brave, Sir Patton the Pure, Sir Virgil the Angsty, and the aptly named Sir Not-appearing-in-this-story. Together they formed a band whose names and deeds were to be retold throughout the centuries: The Knights of the Round Table.
“Thomas! Thomas, King of the Gays!” Thomas and the Knights looked up to the most glorious sight they had ever laid their eyes on: God was resting in the clouds, his hair a silvery white, his crown embedded with the finest of jewels, and his face as plump as a fat child. “Thomas, King of the Gays, your Knights of the Round Table shall have a task to make them an example in these dark times.”
“Good idea, O Lord!”
“‘Course it’s a good idea! Behold!” An image appeared in the sky of a beautiful, pristine, grail; it was laden with gold and rubies and diamonds. “Thomas, this is the Holy Grail. Look well, for it is your sacred task to seek this grail. That is your purpose, Thomas: the quest for the Holy Grail.
“A blessing!” Sir Patton cried as God’s face retreated into the clouds, “A blessing from the Lord!”
“God be praised!” Sir Roman shouted...
5 notes
·
View notes