#when I say I’m not an artist and people can’t accept that because it’s ’self-depreciating’

[miraculous-ninjabird]

TLDR for my rant: it’s perfectly okay to admit you are bad at something, say something YOU made looks bad, and/or talk about the ways something you made didn’t live up to your expectations as long as someone does not internalize the message that because they are bad at something or did something bad doesn’t mean that they themselves are a bad person.

Desperately trying to explain to my therapist the difference between ‘I’m a terrible artists’ (self-derogatory and self-defeating) and ‘I’m a terrible artists (I fully acknowledge that I could be better at this skill given time and effort and that all art has value to someone. However. I am specifically choosing not to hone this skill due to a number of reasons and will never consider myself an ‘artist’. Thus, my art will never get better and I am okay with this)

And how I fall solidly into the latter category and how frustrating it is that it’s never seen that way. I say ‘I’m not an artist lol’ or ‘look at my terrible little drawing!” <-worst drawing you’ve ever seen but that’s okay. It’s always, always met by ‘don’t say that! Everybody is an artist!’ And ‘don’t talk bad about yourself and the things you create :(‘ like.

NO!

Some people do desperately need to hear and internalize those messages but I’m not one of them! My art is terrible! That’s the point! I’m never going to be good at it because I’ll never care to but damn if I’m not having the greatest time ever creating terrible art!

I don’t love the online implication (and real world implication when I tried to take art classes) that being okay with the fact I am bad at something is…a bad thing. A simple fact of life is that everyone is bad at something and it’s okay to both admit and be okay with that fact.

Tangentially related but it’s also okay to admit that when you are new at a skill…you’re probably gonna be bad at it. Like. Someone who’s still learning is gonna have some terrible first efforts and that’s the point. It gives you a growth point.

Example: I made a bag. I decided to add a zipper. It did not go as planned and the end result is in fact rather terrible. Simply a fact. However! I put a zipper! In a bag!! And maybe it does look horrible but that is something I’ve never done before and I did it all by myself and I can simultaneously admit it looks awful but be proud of the fact that I figured it out.

Like art I could be content with the success of finishing the project, but I can also use this as a launching point to get better. What I choose to do is up to me and I don’t appreciate people trying to tell me that I’m not allowed to call an objectively terrible finished project as such.

You cannot and will not ever get better at a skill if you are unwilling to accept that you will be bad at it. It makes that learning that acceptance all the harder when people are taught that they shouldn’t ever say bad things about what they make.

Rather than teaching the message ‘nothing anyone makes could possibly be bad in any way (skill wise)’ we would promote acceptance of ‘this is bad and that’s okay’

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk about ‘not every negative self-comment about something someone is self-deprecating’

[donutloverxo]

Nude

Run through - Steve wants to try new things so he takes a painting class with a nude painting subject. Only the woman he has to paint are you, Peppers assistant and his crush.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

Steve Rogers was many things. He was an artist, an amateur cook (who really does try), a loyal friend, a good citizen, a soldier. Yet when people looked at him, they only ever saw the captain. His friends called him cap. He'd go weeks without hearing his own name. Sometimes he felt the lines were blurred. When did Steve Rogers end and Captain America begin?

He had a big wake up call when he confronted Tony, saying he wasn’t iron man, it was an alter ego. To which Tony said that Steve was basically captain America. And Steve couldn’t argue or disagree, because it was true. He didn’t want to lose himself in his work anymore than he already had. His therapist told him to make healthy boundaries, which is what he’s going to do.

So he ordered some colors and pencils online and got to work on his art, for the first time in a long time. It was exhilarating and freeing. He could lose himself in it, go on for hours without thinking and seeing anything but the colors and his canvas. Which was extremely rare for him. He could rarely ever shut his brain off or run from his traumatic memories.

Everyone could see the visible change in him. How he seemed happier. Clint even joked about it saying

“Cap must be getting some”

To which Steve only snorted. There was no room for anything as complicated as a relationship or sex in his life, not right now.

But wouldn’t it be nice? To have a woman to hold and to paint. To love and care for. He didn’t let himself delve too much into that fantasy. Because even if it was a nice escape once in a while, he knew that while Steve Rogers might make a good partner, Captain America would certainly not. He would never subject any woman to deal with either of them.

With some encouragement from Sam and his old friends he started attending painting classes at his alma mater, the Brooklyn College, every Saturday evening. It helped him make some friends. He didn’t know if he could call them friends. Most of them were too different from him. They seemed like different types of 'tortured artists'

When he heard that there would be a nude subject to paint the next class, he was a little bit hesitant. Such a thing would’ve been scandalous in the 40s. But he was trying to open himself up and that meant pushing his comfort zone, even just a little bit.

When he set up his canvas, oil colors and brushes that Saturday he expected male subject. He didn’t however expect to hear a woman’s voice. He was too focused on his set up to look up, whatever. He didn’t care if it was a man or a woman. There wouldn't be anything erotic about it. This was strictly professional and educational.

He looked up to take a good look at his subject, when he felt as if his soul was knocked out of him. There you stood, his crush, Pepper Potts' assistant, and the woman who turned him down.

“You know back in my day they used to play elevator music” He said to drown out the awkward silence. Even after all this time, he still didn’t know how to talk to women. He had had a crush on you since the moment he laid eyes on you. You were always so funny and sweet. Asking him and everyone about their day, if they were doing well. Always willing to help others.

When he let it slip that he likes banana bread, you baked him a whole loaf of it, which chocolate chips so ‘so you think of me when you have them. They’re my signature of sorts' you had said proudly. Of course he’d be thinking of you when he ate it. Overthinking actually. Wondering If you like him as he likes you, or if you’re just being your sweet self.

“Oh we still have that!” You chirped “but not in um professional or business buildings like these”

He just nodded. Tapping his foot impatiently. You would get off in just six floors it was now or never. “Hey uh – what are you doing this Friday?” he asked shyly.

“Oh just watching some Gordon Ramsay with my dog probably. I have no life” you laughed at your own self depreciating joke “Why?” you tilted your head.

“I was thinking, maybe we could get dinner? Only if you uh – you wanted to, you're free to say no” he promised. Maybe he should’ve asked you to ‘hang out' or 'for a coffee' like most people these days. But he felt that was no way to treat a lady, especially one like you.

“Oh Steve” he was already disappointed upon hearing your tone “I would’ve loved to. But even though we don’t work together, it wouldn’t look good you know? I mean I don’t care much for 'my image'” You said making air quotes “But I don’t, it’ll be complicated” You looked completely defeated. As if it hurt you to say no more than it hurt him to hear it.

“I completely understand” He nodded “no hard feelings” he gave you a smile as he watched you walk away. It did break his heart a bit, but he’d respect your feelings.

He looked at you taking off your satin robe revealing your bare body to the class of twenty or so artists. His breathe hitched. Your hair flowing down your back and covering a bit of your left breast, your soft stomach and thighs, the patch of soft curls at your core, your nipples hard against the chilly air, and how your stomach rolled a bit as you sat uncomfortably on the stool. You were beautiful. A work of art even. There was absolutely no way he could do you justice. He started drawing an outline on his canvas. You would very well be his best subject.

You looked around a bit, your fingers holding onto the stool for dear life so you could stave off the anxiety and feeling of being so exposed. Then your eyes landed on him. You thought you were dreaming, maybe you didn’t see properly, so you did a double take. Then you were frozen on the spot. There he was, Captain Rogers, the first Avenger, the man you often dreamt about, sitting right in front of you while you were naked as the day you were born.

You had no idea what you should do. This was literally like a nightmare come true. If you flee it would look bad, if you didn’t it might look worse. You decided you’d follow his lead. So you peeked a glance at him from the corner of your eyes and saw him, sketching you? Holy shit Steve Rogers was drawing a nude portrait of you. What has your life become?

You had always been insecure about your body. You knew magazines, porn and movies were meant to feed people lies to get them to buy more things. That didn’t make you feel any less bad about not looking anything like the women in them. You tried to remind yourself that you have many things going for you. Like your supporting family, your loving friends, your cute labrador, your amazing job.

Speaking of your job, exactly why you turned Steve freaking Rogers down! A man that looks like him asking you out and you say no. Your friends flat out laughed in your face at your unfortunate predicament, where the cake is right there but you can't eat it. Now that you thought about it, it was funny.

Your co-workers weren’t kind to you. Even on your best day you didn’t look anything like the women you worked with, who would stab you in the back the first chance the get. You were kind to everyone, but you knew by now not to expect the same treatment back. Which was why you had to say no to the beefy blonde. You didn’t want to be branded as the ‘office slut’.

Which now you were sure you would be. You didn’t know Steve enough to know he’d be willing to keep this a secret. He didn’t seem like someone who would do that to you. But you still couldn’t help but think the worst.

You squirmed and shivered in the chair for a good part of the next two hours. By the end your back was sore and you did everything you could to avoid looking at Steve, only sneaking glances here and there, while he seemed too engrossed in his work.

You had done this a couple of times before, to accept your body for what it is and get comfortable with it. If you weren’t going to love it no one would do it for you. Finally the time was up and the artists were asked to pack up for the day.

You quickly got up from your stool putting the robe back on. You turned your back to Steve, stretching your muscles. You couldn’t wait to lay down on your comfy bed and just get out of here. But you knew you needed to have that inevitable conversation. You probably would never be able to look Steve in the eye after this.

You walked towards him as he was cleaning up his work station. “Fancy seeing you here” You cringed at your embarrassing attempt at a British accent.

“Hey there” He gave you a bashful smile scratching the back of his head “I didn’t expect to see you here”

“Right back at ya” you returned his smile, no longer feeling on edge. It was strange how his presence served to comfort you.

“You do this often” he asked casually. You couldn’t really hear any judgement in his tone, not what you would expect from a hundred year old.

“No not really. It just uh – I’m trying to love myself. Which I already do! Of course” you let out a nervous chuckle “just trying new things and stepping out of my comfort zone”

“That makes two of us” he said as he was done packing his bag, which he was deliberately doing at a slow pace. He didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

“Can I... Look at your painting?” You asked nervously. You didn’t know if you wanted to see his interpretation of your naked body, what if it was bad? But what if it was good? What if he was impressed by you...

“Uh it’s not done yet. And frankly I’m not that good”

“I seriously doubt that. I’ve seen the sketches in your office” You caught your slip of tongue. You couldn’t let him know about your borderline unhealthy obsession with him.

“Well, have a look then” he relented showing you his canvas.

You let out a breathe you didn’t even know you were holding at the painting. It was breath-taking. The woman looked like you, but why was she so beautiful and graceful? In the painting she was sitting on a stool, like you, in front of a tree admiring a rose in her hand. She was naked as well. It reminded you of classic Greek paintings where women weren’t perfect, but were celebrated for their imperfections.

“It’s amazing Steve. I – do I look like that?” You stammered not being able to tear your eyes off the painting.

He shook his head at your shock “On the contrary you look much better I’m glad you like it”

“You’re a great artist” you gushed

“I don’t know about that. I’ve seen much better” he said humbly.

You would argue with him. But you knew it would be of no use. Looking at the beautiful woman in the painting gave you the surge of confidence you needed “Steve, does the offer for that dinner still stand?” You straightened your back looking up to lock eyes with him.

“Yes” He blurted without even thinking “how about tomorrow evening?” He asked.

“Yes that will be awesome! You can pick me up at seven. I’ll text you the address“ you said making an mental note to do so.

You could hardly wait for your date. You didn’t really care about what your co-workers would think of you. As long as you were happy their opinions didn’t matter.

Tags will be in the reblog! If you want in on the taglist click the link in the bio or send me an ask!

Please do not steal or repost my works. Reblogs are welcome.

This was actually a request. But I can't fir the life of me find the person who requested it. I hope you see it babes❤

[hoodoo12]

Costume

This month’s prompt on our discord server? “Costume”, for Hallowe’en, of course! SFW, Beetlejuice/gender neutral reader.

@beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @thewolfisapartofmysoul @janitor-boy @turtlepated @angelicspaceprince

Enjoy! `

You’d never have expected being invited to a Halloween costume party would be such a problem.

A problem shaped like a pestering, jealous ghost-demon named Beetlejuice. “I wanna go! Why can’t I go! You’re leaving me for a whole evening to have fun and I have to sit here and twiddle my thumbs?! You’re going to leave me in the dark in an empty house and I never get to do anything!” His whining was amazing, and not in the good way. “You could take me! We can do a couple’s costume! Like Mickey and Minnie Mouse, or you can be a brick, and I can go as a brick layer!”

You couldn’t help but snort in laughter at his suggestions, as raunchy as the second one had been. “Or, or--you know those horse costumes? We could do that! I could be the back half, because I like holding onto your butt--” “And also because you’re an ass?”

The specter grinned broadly at your jab, thinking that if you were joining in on the idea, his battle was mostly won. “Beej, sweetheart,” you said, patting his cheek, “the answer is no. No one’ll be able to see you, so a couple’s costume just isn’t going to work. I’m sorry.” His expressive face fell. You were pretty sure that if he could control not just the color of his hair but how much it stuck up, it would have drooped in a dramatic, cartoonish way as well. 

“Fine,” he muttered sadly. “I mean, people could see me if you just, I don’t know, said my name a few times or whatever, but it’s okay, I’ll just stay here with the dust and spiders and wait in the dark for you to come back . . .” He turned to go, shoulders sloping dejectedly, and shook off your hand when you tried to take his wrist to attempt to make him feel better. 

⁂

You actually had no idea what to dress as. Everything was too cutesy or overdone or trite. When watching those Bly Manor and Truth Seekers shows on streaming, however, something clicked into place. You could go as a plague doctor! And not only that, since Beetlejuice bragged about living through the Black Plague, he’d have firsthand knowledge of it and them and could assist making it authentic!

Excitedly, you told him your idea. Although he was still a bit crestfallen, he of course preened a little when you asked for his help and promised to give you all the details he could to make it the best plague doctor around. He went so far as to bring you an authentic beaked mask from . . . somewhere, which he proudly tried to thrust into your hands. Gingerly you accepted it, but tried to keep only the very tips of your fingers in contact with the leather. The clear glass for its eyes made it look more than slightly creepy. 

“I’m not going to . . . catch anything from this, right? You didn’t get it out of a festering plague pit . . . ?” “Nah,” he replied dismissively. “I mean, yeah, it’s from a grave, but it’s super old so anything infectious should be gone, I’m pretty sure.”

One thing he’d never claimed to be was a doctor or infectious disease expert, so although you accepted his suspect contribution, you cleaned it inside and out with bleach. And tossed it in the microwave to nuke any possibly remaining microbes, for good measure. 

You procured a black coat and hat on your own. Beetlejuice also dug up a black cane--telling you that the doctors used them to poke at people so they could examine them without getting too close--with a silver wolf’s head as a handle. You joked that that was a prop for the Wolfman but accepted it anyway.   He also gleefully shoved so many aromatics into the beak it made your eyes water when you finally tried it on. “Thanks, Beej,” you praised as you tried to breathe through your mouth. “Wow. There’s a lot in here, huh? What is that, pine needles?” “Juniper, cloves, and camphor! Some mint too.”

“Uh-huh,” you croaked. You were going to have to grab some tissues to wipe your running nose and watery eyes during this party. “Okay, I’ll see you later.” “Have a good time!” he called after you, and you were glad he’d gotten over his disappointment. 

⁂

You knew the people who’d invited you to the party tended to go all out for Halloween, and this year was no exception. It wasn’t Martha Stewart, but it wasn’t professional haunted attraction either. They’d filled their house with lots of skeletons and spiders, pictures that changed based on which angle you looked at them, a soundtrack that low enough to not impede conversations but was filled with creaks, moans, and shrieks, and a buffet spread filled with treats made to look gory. 

Everyone was in costume, of course, from those same generic ones available at Halloween stores to homemade cosplay of movie slashers. A hush rippled out like a stone thrown into water when you walked through the front door, even as you called hello to your friends. The party-goers turned to gawk at you.

Gradually people returned to their conversations, and some people returned greetings. You grinned behind your mask; it was good to make an unexpected first impression. 

Wandering through the party, you slowly became aware that few people sought you out, and when you tried to engage with others, they were polite but seemed anxious to get away. More than once you caught people glancing over their shoulders at you as they left you. It also became apparent that people gave you a berth as you walked through the house, even at the table spread with food and drink. At first it was kind of cool, like you were this mysterious being, but then it devolved into being a little weird. It had to be because of the aromatics Beetlejuice had stuffed to the brim inside the beak. “I’m sorry about the smell,” you apologized to anyone who would listen. “I just went a little overboard on it being authentic.”

You followed that apology with a little self-depreciating chuckle. 

It didn’t make people seem more comfortable around you. 

Unable to mingle, feeling like a bit of an outcast--maybe like a real plague doctor--you didn’t stay at the party long. Walking home along streetlight lit sidewalks, you had the same effect on anyone else out: veering to give you room, furtive glances back at you once they were passed. 

There was no way you stunk that bad.

Sighing, you slowed down a little. Although there was a chill in the air, you were getting this hat and mask off your face. Maybe you could dump the herbs and whatnot in a garbage can, and reduce the stench. Your nose could use some fresh air anyway. 

You happened to stop in front of a closed store’s window. As you grabbed your hat to yank it off your head, you glanced at your reflection and yelped in surprise. 

It was you in a plague doctor’s costume, but nightmarishly extreme. Your coat--just a cheap plain coat you found at a thrift store, was smeared along the sleeves and hem with something that looked tacky and black, like old blood. Like your coat had been dragging along the floor of a slaughterhouse, and like you’d been wrist deep in something gory. The rest of the fabric looked moldy and stained and threadbare on the elbows. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your mask--

It was authentic, obviously, but the leather seemed to have molded smoothly to your face. The glass in the eyeholes didn’t show your eyes at all; instead, pinpricks of light, the reflection of an animal’s eyes, shone out. 

Everything that looked back at you in the glass looked evil, depraved, and unsettling. The effect was overtly chilling, even as you knew you were looking at yourself. 

You ran the rest of the way to your place. “Beetlejuice!” you shouted, throwing open the door so had it bounced back at you from the wall it hit. He sauntered in from the kitchen. “Heya babes! How’d the party go? I was just here, making rice krispie treats--the kitchen’s a bit of a war zone right now--is marshmallow difficult to get off the ceiling?”

“What did you do?!”

“I told you--I was making rice krispie treats--” “I mean what did you do to my costume!”

The specter stopped, and grinned. “Did you like it? Did everyone like it? I think the pièce de résistance was that faint whiff of rot. You really have to concentrate to smell it, but once you do, you can’t unsmell it--”

You gaped at that disgusting revelation and resisted the urge to grab him by the sharp labels of his striped coat and shake him; he’d see that as playtime. Through gritted teeth, you repeated, “What did you do to my costume?!”

“I made it authentic. Just like you asked,” he shrugged innocently.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you counted to ten, actually making it only to four. Your jaw hurt from clenching it so hard, but you didn’t loosen it much to say sarcastically, “And the way my eyes look? Is that authentic? Did plague doctors have creepy shiny eyes?”

He laughed. “Oh. That. Yeah, that was some artistic license. Just to give it some flair.”

A worn coat splattered with unnameable gore, the stench of random herbs plus decay, a mask that was already unsettling and silver eyes for some “flair” . . . this time you did make it to a count of ten, and released the tension in your jaw this time. He was only trying to help. He had provided the expertise you asked for, and he just took it too far because he was nothing if not over the top.

“We should’ve just done the horse costume,” Beetlejuice advised. “Want a rice krispie?”

You glared at him, but couldn’t stay too mad too long. Shrugging out of the coat, you said, “Yes. Take this costume out and bury it or burn it or something. You tricked, and I’ll have a treat.”

“That’s my babe,” he grinned, and took the disgusting outfit off your hands.  

fin!

[summerstardust]

It Will Be Okay

Dhawan!Doctor x Reader 

Summary: After you receive heartbreaking news, The Doctor tries to cheer you up. Unsuccessfully at first.

Warnings: breakup, depression, and mentions of suicide/self harm --- please don’t read this if those subjects are triggering

Word Count: 3462

A/N: I selfishly wrote this for myself. I just need this because of some personal things going on in my life at the moment. But, I hope that you all enjoy it!

You hadn’t known The Doctor for that long. Mid-March was when you met. You were strolling around an art museum that you hadn’t been to yet. You were on break for spring term and wanted to relax and get out of the house, taking a break from studying and catching up on university courses. Of course, work still needed to be done, so your trip to the museum, although relaxing, also involved finding an example of Greek myth depicted within a piece of artwork or an artifact. Though interesting in topic, you would much rather want to be around the museum with carefree joy instead of obtaining the information for that particular assignment. 

You decided to go through the museum chronologically. You did not care about the order of history when going to museums in previous journeys, you always went to your favourite era first, and also last if there was enough time available in the day, before retreating to the little shop by the entrance for a souvenir. However, you allowed the mandatory information taking for you course to reorganize your preferred schedule, completing your schoolwork as soon as possible and rushing off to the abstract artists of Europe section of the museum.

You stopped abruptly, with an audible gasp, in the middle of your tour when you ventured upon a painting by Vincent Van Gogh. You were unaware of this museum holding one in their collection. You sat down on a bench in front of the painting and just stared at it for a long time, occasionally taking some pictures to blend in with all of the other millennials and zoomers on their phone, but promptly returned to gawking at the unique brush strokes and style of your favourite painter.

“He’s really quite amazing, isn’t he?” The sudden voice behind you made you jump out of your state of calm. The man behind you quickly apologized for his intrusion and for scaring you, he explained, “I only wanted to talk to you. You are the only person here actually appreciating the art.” You questioned if he worked here, but he promptly, and quite wittedly, retorted, “If I worked here, I don’t think I would care much for art. Too monotonous and everyday, boring ol’ rat race, the art would soon embody, not the life and soul it actually captures.” 

To say he was strange was an understatement. He wore a long purple coat that matched his visible socks, knitted tie and even the argiles on his sweater vest. His smile was sweet, but cocky, like he knew that you were intrigued, but his eyes shone bright with warmth and curiosity, pupils, ever so slightly, dilated. Proving that he, too, was probably more intrigued than he should be by the mannerisms of a stranger.

One of the hands that was clasped behind his back moved swiftly out before you in a gesture of introduction. Accompanied with this subtle, yet dramatic, movement was the strange man in purple saying, “Hello! I’m The Doctor!” You tentatively accepted his hand, joking about how he does actually work here at the museum. He denied your statement, but smiled, eyeing you with big hopeful eyes. You didn’t understand why he was eyeing you until he glanced down at your still interlocked hands, then you remembered how you hadn’t introduced yourself yet.

“Y/N,” you practically shouted, growing annoyed with yourself, and continuing softer, “My name is Y/N Y/S.” 

“Y/N Y/S, what a lovely name! Absolutely marvelous!” You questioned if it was, you never thought your name to be that spectacular.

“Of course your name is marvelous! You are the one possessing that name, and you are marvelous, therefore, your name is also marvelous!” You smiled, but shook your head before looking away from him.

“I’m afraid that you must be mistaking me for someone else, I’m just a normal, everyday, boring human. Nothing marvelous about me.” You spoke with a happy-go-lucky tone, but your words were laced with sadness and self depreciation.

“I think everything about you is marvelous.” His eyes weren't lying and his smile was reassuring, but you could not understand his confidence.

“You’ve only just met me a few minutes ago, how could you possibly know anything about me? And how could anything you have found out about me result in you calling me marvelous, it just doesn’t add up, stranger.”

“Doctor. I’m The Doctor, not The Stranger, they're a completely different Timelord. And, I’ve discovered the most important thing about you.”

“Which is?” You tried to follow his ramble, but were unsuccessful.

“You study and empathize with the smallest things, understanding that they all pile up and congoine into one even bigger thing.”

“How do you figure that?” you continued to question, slightly scared that this stranger could understand your personality so well in such little time.

“Because, you have been staring at this one painting for almost half an hour, and the more you look at it, the more you are brought to tears by the depth of emotion conveyed in the work. You have been doing this, while every other person has been hastily moving from one painting to another, snapping pictures and moving on, like checking items off of a grocery list.” He looked around the room of meandering humans, wringing his hands, disgusted by their lack of want for discovery, but excited by the palpable tension of excitement he could feel within you. He could feel it, you were like him, a person wanting to run away and discover something new. “You, you are observant! I bet! I bet that if something were to change about this scenario in front of you, you would notice, where the other people here wouldn’t even bat an eye.”

“And if I do notice that change? What happens then?” 

“I’ll give you the opportunity to get away from all of this monotony. Human life is boring, not you.” You stared at him for a while, sceptical, but intrigued. You eventually said that you’ll bite and play his game. He immediately moved to cover your eyes with one hand, and gave an exhilarated “You ready?” You nodded and heard the man’s fingers snap before he removed the hand covering your eyes. You looked at him as if he was insane, but he nodded his head in the direction of the rest of the room, encouraging you to continue the game 

You promised to partake in. You rolled your eyes as you scanned the room, expecting no changes, but your face fell into disbelief when you saw a large blue police box sitting near one of the abstract sculptures in the center of the room. With your mouth agape, you watched as bystanders took in the new centerpiece, blissfully unaware of its magical appearance. You eventually moved forward to it, after the man nudged your shoulder, indicating that it was okay and this was not a hoax. You moved around it, circling it, every once in a while seeing the stranger's whimsical and curious eyes gadgeing your reaction.you were too afraid to touch it, scared that this was a new art piece and you would be sent to jail or would have to pay a fine for damaging the artwork. 

“Of she’s definitely a work of art, but she’s not a part of the museum. It's perfectly fine if you touch her.” For a moment, you wondered if he could read your mind, but you decided that that was impossible. To prove that he wasn’t lying, he leant up against the blue box, no one around reacting. You slowly brought your hand up to where it was level with the sign on the door that said “Pull to Open.” When you eventually touched the sign, the box let out a light hum, like the one a person would make if they had just eaten something delicious. You jumped back, and looked to the stranger to see if he heard the noise, but he only looked amused, with a sweet toothy grin reaching his eyes and a low chuckle falling from his lips. 

“Push it open.” He stated, regaining his composure over the situation. 

“But the sign says pull.” Another hum, more aggravated this time, emerged from the box. The man seemed to glare at the box, whispering “not now” in a tone he thought you couldn’t hear. When he noticed you staring, he readjusted his sweater vest and couched in awkwardness, but assured you that it was alright and that you should open the door. You did as he said, the box humming welcomingly again when you touched the door handle and pushed the door forward, despite the writing on the sign. The room was dark, pitch black as you stood in the doorway. The man behind you pushed you forward, gracefully and gently, but it still caught you off guard. You let out a string of yells and curses as the man closed the door behind the pair of you, seemingly locking you in.

“What do you think you are doing?! You can’t just lock me in here.” Your yelling was unanswered and eventually silenced by the light flicking on, showing a room much larger than the small box could have contained. What seemed to be a control panel took up the center of the room, large, glowing, purple, crystalline structures branching off of it and illuminating the room. There were a couple of cushioned chairs and sofas strewn about the upper deck around the console, and metal stairs lead up to a circular veranda level, completely covered in bookshelves and ladders to reach the tallest of shelves.

The stranger was smirking down at you, now stood by the console, leaning on it with his hip, his arms crossed in front of him.“This is the TARDIS.” he spoke, interrupting your curious looks around the place.”It stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. And I want you to travel with me. I told you I’d offer you a getaway.” His smirk grew with the last sentence, showing how proud he was of himself, and rightfully so, his prize for winning his little game was very impressive.

You had been traveling with The Doctor ever since, you couldn’t say no to his offer of traveling the universe, but roughly five months was not enough time to know an alien who lost track of how old they were. Something happened around late June, but you never told The Doctor. He found you crying in the TARDIS kitchen alone early one morning, phone still clasped in your hand. He wondered if you had been talking to someone and that’s why you were crying. If that was what was happening, he hated whoever they were for doing this to you. When you saw him standing in the doorway, you squeaked in fear, but jumped up and ran to him, hugging him very tightly. The two of you had only ever shared brief victory hugs before, nothing like this. But just as The Doctor started to enjoy the breathtakingly tight hug you were giving him, you ran off to your room, slamming and locking the door behind you. 

The Doctor had tried and failed to talk to you for a month. You would emerge from your room to eat, rarely, and to make cups of tea, almost always in the morning when you used to be asleep. But you never talked, waved, or even smiled at The Doctor anymore.

Eventually, he had convinced you to go on an adventure with him, thanks to the TARDIS helping him and preventing you from returning to your room on an excursion to the kitchen.  The Doctor knew, though, that you were not enjoying anything you were seeing, the curiosity and wonder had drained from your eyes. 

He took you to a beach where the waves would sound like a different song to whoever hears them, but you didn’t even change into a swimsuit. He took you to a mountainous relaxation resort where the staff would ski down the ranges singing show tunes and performing acrobatic routines, you didn’t even crack a smile. He even took you to a planet where it was only ever night time, he pointed out the stars and planets to you and told you stories of his past, but you would only hum noncommitedly. He thought that his openness would draw something, in turn, out of you.

The last stop was the largest multidimensional museum in existence, he thought, surly, this would work. Reminding you of the day you met him had to bring you back to your old self. So, The Doctor, ignoring your protests, dragged you through the museum, running past history, until you stopped in front of a Vincent Van Gogh painting, the same one you were looking at the museum when The Doctor first saw you. He was hopeful that this would brighten your mood, that he would look over and see you smiling and curious, but he saw no such thing. The Doctor saw the bland, emotionless face you were trying to wear confidently, as you had at every other venue, but he also saw the tears pooling in your eyes and the slight quiver of your lips. That was new. What hurt the most was how he saw how desperately you wanted to keep your facade in place, how desperately you didn’t want him to see how hurt you were. He wondered if he had done something wrong, something to cause this disconnect? 

The Doctor took you back to the TARDIS when you asked to leave the museum, his head hanging low between his shoulders. He did not wish to do it, but because you did not seem to be enjoying yourself, The Doctor was prepared to let you go. He opened the door for you and followed you into the TARDIS, trodding up to the console. He was about to offer to take you home, but you were already gone. The Doctor sighed, about to set the quardianted anyway, until the TARDIS beeped frantically, informing him to go to your room immediately.

The door to your room was slightly ajar, probably because of the TARDIS, just enough for The Doctor to see into your bedroom. You were pacing, holding a kitchen knife in one hand and beating your head repeatedly. Then you started screaming, “It was a simple adventure, Y/N, but you messed it up. You are always messing things up. The Doctor just wanted to cheer you up, and you couldn’t even fake it for a day! Maybe this is why no one loves you, Y/N. You can’t just let things go and celebrate what is actually before you! You saw The Doctor’s face, and you broke his hearts! Why can’t you just be happy, Y’N?! Why do you have to ruin everything that crosses your path! Everything would be easier and everyone would be happier if you didn’t exist!” You swung both of your fists down in rage, cutting the air. 

Behind you, The Doctor burst into your room, screaming a loud ‘no!’ You were too shocked to actually process anything, he clearly heard every word you said, and saw the knife in your hands. There was no going back from this. For all you knew, he was going to kick you out because of how you were behaving. He asked for the knife, calmly but sternly, his brown eyes growing dark in concern. You did as he said and moved to your bed, curling into a ball under your covers, trying to ignore The Doctor’s powerful eyes. He followed you , however, hugging you from behind, placing soft kisses on the side of your face and neck as you began to cry. The Doctor hushed your tears and dried your eyes as best he could from his position.  Eventually you stopped crying, curling into him further as The Doctor rested his head in the crook of your neck. After calming your breath, you spoke up, breaking the silence.

“My boyfriend broke up with me. That’s who I was on the phone with that night when you saw me crying.” The Doctor moved his head slightly to look at you, he didn’t know that you had a boyfriend. But this revelation colored that situation differently for him. His suspicions were correct, but he did not wish them to be. He hated how someone so close to you would hurt you like this.

“He broke up with you over the phone?” His tone was dangerous, you were almost afraid to answer, worried for how he would react.

“Yes,” you spoke tentatively. The Doctor’s arms tightened around you protectively, so you tried to explain the situation. “He said that he didn’t want to, and that he wished he could have done it in person but he was too busy.” This didn’t raise his opinion of your ex.

“Is there any way that the two of you could work it out?” He hoped that there wasn’t, from the very little he heard of this person, and seeing how you reacted to the breakup, The Doctor thought that you would be safer away from him.

“No, he said that his decision was final.” There was a long pause before The Doctor spoke again, trying to suppress his excitement over the fact that this negative person would be out of your life.

“What were you going to do with the knife?” He almost forgot about the knife.

“I don’t know, I would’ve probably hurt myself. I don’t even remember grabbing the thing. I think that I was just overwhelmed with emotions and I didn’t feel like I had any more options.”

“Have you hurt yourself before?” HIs tone was softer, hoping that you would feel more open in discussing a topic this sensitive.

“Not in over a year. I’ve had bouts like this every so often, but this one felt worse. I guess I just wanted to remove the hurt he caused by making myself feel something new. I know you were trying to do that before with all of the adventures, but I couldn’t focus on any of the good things. I could only think of how lonely he made me and how much I was disappointing you. I just feel so worthless!” You tried to bang your head against your hand again, but The Doctor stopped you, holding your fists tightly in his.

“You could never disappoint me. And you, most certainly, aren’t worthless, Y/N. Do you want to know why?” You played his game and asked why, how tightly he was holding you contrasting severely with the softness of his tone. It was strangely comforting and one of the most intimate moments you’ve ever experienced. 

“Because I chose you. Because you were the only one observant and empathetic enough to see and appreciate the simpler things. There are very few people like you. In fact, there is no one like you. You are completely unique within the cosmos, to do away with the magic you hold in your heart and soul, it would be a waste. A complete and utter tragedy to the whole of existence. And I know that I am not the person you probably want in this bed, but I will be here whenever you need. We can go on adventure, we can revisit those places from before so you don't feel as if you missed out on anything, and we can just sit and talk or hold each other. You’re not alone in this, Y/N. You have me, and it will take time, but everything will, one day, be okay.”

“Thank you, Doctor, I really don’t know where I would be without you. You’ve cared for me more than anyone.” You paused and pulled his arms tighter around your body before looking up at his face, “And don’t be so hard on yourself, Doctor. You are an ageless alien showing me the universe. No offence, but what does the emotionless ex boyfriend of mine have that you don't possess tenfold?” He blushed down at you, avoiding eye contact for a moment, then looking back. He turned you around in his arms so you were facing him and leant his forehead against yours. You talked for a few moments like this, eventually growing tired. The Doctor said that you should sleep and you wrapped your arms around him so he couldn’t leave. He chuckled and hugged you back, moving the blankets that had fallen down a bit tighter around your bodies. After you fell asleep, The Doctor kissed your forehead and rubbed your back, whispering promises to protect you and help you out of this dark period.

[kyotakumrau]

PHY Vol.13 - interview with Kyo

You can get the magazine on Amazon or TOWER RECORDS!

'The Insulated World', the 10th album released almost 4 years after the previous one, was a huge surprise. Well, it's not like their previous work was full of gentle feelings, yet it never crossed my mind that this will become a work that will bring the sense of unity/identification of the band. Granted that they had the chance to reexamine the band's path with the best album and tours revolving around the past works, the songs made as they lightly walked over the past self are filled with the love for the band held by 5 people and the relationship between the band members. Now, why is it that they moved along with one vector without even one break? We have talked to each band member investigating for this feature.

(kyotaku: I typed it on my phone so let me know when you spot any typos, mistakes etc.)

My self denial was strong originally, but it might be the first time so far that I feel like blaming myself -- You've just completed the album, what do you think about it? Kyo: Speaking about the message in DIR EN GREY's music this album has the most extreme content. But saying that, there are various vectors so as a rule I can't say it's extreme... I guess it's closer to hardcore. -- The lyrics are like that. But what do you think about the music? Kyo: What to say... I can't explain well, but the current DIR EN GREY is here, just that. We were lacking songs so I have the impression that it was hard on everyone. -- What do you think is different with the previous album 'ARCHE'? Kyo: We made ARCHE letting out the new us while we were returning to our origins. But this time we created this album while only looking ahead. Yet, this ahead is not what everyone imagined. There were some reactions like 'eh? we're trying something like this?' Both music and the lyrics wise. -- I see. It's probably super subjective, but I think the feeling of the band is very strong. Kyo: Ah, I think so too. -- That act of going against the expectations, it's something that this band continues to do. So this time as well it ended up as a work different than I thought, but I don't feel quite betrayed. Kyo: Yeah, it might be like that. I don't have a feeling that I found something very new and original this time. It's also okay to have an expression in the usual shape, but I'm not like that. Having said that, I'd rather die than do something that could be easily understood by anyone like 'aah, it's like that'. So if I was to say what's new this time, for me it's how frankly I let the ominous feelings out. -- You mean aggravating or provoking things? Kyo: I feel that I wanted to release such things from inside of me. For someone who saw positivity or the world of light in ARCHE, 'huh they're going there?' - they have such a surprise waiting for them. Afterall, I opened the gate of light with that album, but past it was pitch dark... I feel it was like that. -- I agree. Kyo: I have sang such positive feelings in ARCHE, but in the end nothing changes... I had such ominous feel. No matter how hard I tried singing it, in the end I cannot transmit/communicate it. And this time that feeling was directed at myself. -- Ominous feeling? Kyo: Yes. It was heading my direction from before, but I think now it got lodged in much deeper place. Like 'not changing until now is my own fault'. No matter how desperately I was singing, no matter how much I tried to stay positive, I wasn't rewarded/didn't feel rewarded. Why is that? Why didn't I feel rewarded? When wondering about that I opened that gate of light and what was waiting for me on the other side was a question 'isn't it your own fault?'. 'The things you are wishing for are not impossible. Yet, aren't you lacking strenght?' - that's what I felt. -- Why did you think that? Kyo: I don't know. My self-denial was strong originally, I'm someone who doest think I'm someone special, but it might be the first time that I feel like blaming myself until now. So that's why this time there's no changing theme for each song, there's no expressing things in a round about way in lyrics. Anyway it's okay with the theme staying similar, so I felt I really had to let out things I was thinking. It felt like if I don't do that I will die. -- I thought that it became an album with very consistent lyrics. The words yore using also overlap, same as your singing. In short, it's like there's only one thing you want to say in this album. Kyo: Yeah. Also, when deciding the order of songs on the album, I had to have 'Keibetsu to hajimari' as the first song. I wanted to make it the first song lyrics-wise as well. -- So those songs are rebuking yourself or are self abandonment. In phrases '笑え そして見下せ・laugh and look down on me' or in '俺さえ死ねばいい・it would be fine if only I'd die'. (kyotaku: the first phrase appeared on the screen during 'Omae song' which turned out to be Keibetsu to hajimari) Kyo: Well. And I wanted to have 'Ranunculus' as the last song. As in no matter how much I scream how tough it is, singing it all the time on the album, in the end I want to see the light... like that. -- So you're scorning and denying yourself, but in the end you want an affirmation? Kyo: You can't live otherwise. -- Why do you have so much self-depreciation? Kyo: There are many reasons... afterall, aren't concerts and music one type of amusement? No matter how much I will hollow myself out expressing myself, no matter how much time I spend creating good things, it will only be a small part of other people's life... -- People have many ways of interpreting/accepting [art]. Kyo: Just like some people might only see what I do as worthless. I do actually think about music of some other artists I hear or some concerts that they are boring. But those artists might be spending their lifeforce doing that. -- That's true. Kyo: Thinking that, even if someone thinks what I do is worthless, in the end it will all come back to me. Until now I thought that when I couldn't convey my feelings to the other person it was because 'they just didn't understand'. -- And you turned that against yourself. Kyo: But even so... it's like I can't convey [the message]. I was thinking I will be understood someday, I will be able to convey what kind of person I am, but nothing changed. They just think I'm moody. People create this kind of image [of me] and think like that. -- But I don't think we can ever remove misunderstandings from interactions with other people. Kyo: Yet I can't help thinking that as I'm singing so honestly, shouldn't I be able to convey more? So even as I'm doing this for so long, I don't really feel like I'm being understood. It would be about one or two people out of thousand. Other people mostly don't understand me. -- I think that's quite a low estimate. Kyo: But that's what I think. Like 'in a year everyone will make a fun of me', 'everything will be gone'. Those are the feelings I'm directing at myself in this album. Like 'it's your own fault'. That's why I think it's a very hardcore album. But for those two people out of thousand who will understand me, for them I wanted to write the 10th songa 'Followers'. -- From that point the trend in the album is changing, right? A song sang in a medium tempo. Kyo: It's only this song and 'Ranunculus'. The only light, the lyrics I wrote for those very few people. So... normally, as I'm only doing that for a long time, even as the thing I want to say is gone it wouldn't turn strange. But in my case it won't be gone. It's a nice thing for someone in such position. Always having something inside of me exploding, being driven by some impulses, somewhere there is myself who's relieved (who can relax and be at peace)... but in the end it's hard/tiresome. -- That's true. Kyo: But if it's not tiresome, it wouldn't be Kyo... can you understand? If it's not tiresome it's not Kyo. -- It must be very vexing. Kyo: It is. But, there are almost no times when I'm someone else than a person called Kyo. It's also like that when I'm eating with friends. And there are times when I'm feeling sorry to my parents. -- Really? Kyo: I wrote about that in one song... but I will not say which one. But if my parent(s) would read that part/message in the lyrics I don't want them to think 'this is my fault'. Comparing to my previous lyrics many things are said very clearly, so I would like to say 'this is not your fault. Writing those things is a conclusion that came from my way of life, the environment that surrounds me.' Don't we often see it on the news how criminal's parents are apologising? I don't want to be seen like that so I wanted to clearly explain this. -- It seems like eventually you are steadily cornering yourself. As if it's a destiny. Kyo: I think so, too. But if it stays like that I don't feel alive. As the years go by it starts to feel like 'I! I!... I!'. It's like if I don't do what I want, it's not me. If I quit there - 'why do you live? what can you do?'- questions like those will come at me. -- I think that unless you quit DIR EN GREY you will always feel like that. Kyo: No, I think it would be the same even if I quit DIR EN GREY. -- And if you had abandoned the band and the name Kyo... Kyo: I think it could be avoided by not appearing in public, but as long as it's not like that I will always carry this burden. But if that would come true, everything I have managed to do would become nothing... -- And you completely deny yourself. Kyo: Yeah. That's why... should I continue being in the band or dissapear from public? there are only those two choices. If I wanted to live. It's included in the album's message, but if I wanted to live I would want to leave something behind. I'd want to leave some proof of living. So I'm leaving a proof as I do various things not only with DIR EN GREY but also with sukekiyo. If I don't leave many proofs that we lived, putting effort, doing our best.... I wouldn't be able to move forward. -- The number of people who understand that Kyo is a person like that, I think there are more of them than you think. Kyo: Of course I don't mean understanding everything about me. I'm simply happy that there are people who can get something from the things I'm creating. But... I really hate myself no matter what. I can't like myself. -- But you do feel strong emotions like joy when completing a good album? Kyo: I do. The working on the album took a very long time this time. I thought that as we finished the 'mode of ~' tours band will naturally enter a new place, but unexpectedly everyone was looking for 'what's next?'. But in the end I'm happy that we were brought in the same direction. Even as there's only one chorus and there's not much of melodic singing, I was told 'isn't that okay?'. I'm happy about that.

[sparxwrites]

I've noticed recently that I've become accustomed to capitalising words for Emphasis, both in the absence of italics and in tandem with them. As a language nerd, what does this suggest of language mutation going forward?

this isn’t language mutation! at least, not in the way i suspect you mean it. it’s more of a linguistic adaptation to the inherent limitations of text-based communication - which is a bit of a mouthful, and a lot to unpack, so, let’s start with the basics:

in spoken english, we have words and grammar and sentences, the same as we have with internet english. however, we also have facial expressions, and body language, and hand gestures - and most relevantly here something called prosidy, which internet english is lacking (at least in the traditional sense). prosidy is the changes in pitch and volume of your voice when speaking. this gives rise to stress and intonation in speech, which serves several purposes - one is distinguishing between words (ie. record the object, and record the action), another is conveying emotion, and another is providing emphasis.

the last one is the primary purpose of both italics and initial capitalisation in internet english. since we can’t have prosidy over the internet via pitch and volume, we’ve adopted other methods. 

words with the same spelling are usually disambiguated by context, so they’re not hugely relevant here, but there’s some interesting things going on with emotion and emphasis.

emotion is usually done with memes, emoticons, gifs, or other “verbal tags” - stuff like “/s” for sarcasm or “uwu” (which, interestingly, started off as a genuine expression of “i’m not mad at you!” and is now sarcastic and passive aggressive, so that’s a- lexical? possibly-lexical mutation there), or even acronyms like “tbh” and “lol” and “lmfao” which are now more often used to indicate the mood of a particular statement. for example: when was the last time you saw someone using lmfao to Actually Literally Mean “laughing my ass off”? now consider when the last time you saw someone using lmfao to mean “the previous statement is intended to be mildly humorous in a bleak and self-depreciating kind of way” was. think of the number of posts about “adults need to learn to text!” where people think their parents are angry because they ended a text in a full stop. think of all the wonderful variations on ellipses we have!! the way people use question marks as rhetorical devices, to indicate uncertainty in their statement, or to point out how obvious something is!! i love it. emotion tag-words are my favourite.

emphasis / stress is usually (or at least traditionally) done with italics in written english - it isn’t particularly a internet english thing, it’s been done by writers and comic book artists since well before the internet. this is part of what’s called prosodic stress in spoken english, and it’s used in a couple of different ways. aside from general the most relevant one here is to point out new information in a sentence (called focus in linguistics):

“However, it’s not enough to assume that turtles merely like the taste of pineapples. We must consider the possibility that turtles are deeply, sexually attracted to fruit.”

there’s also contrastive focus (a sub-type of focus, where the person you’re speaking to makes an assumption, and you’re contradicting / correcting them). wikipedia has some nice examples of how it’s often used both online and out loud:

I didn't take the test yesterday. (Somebody else did.)I didn't take the test yesterday. (I did not take it.)I didn't take the test yesterday. (I did something else with it.)I didn't take the test yesterday. (I took a different one.)I didn't take the test yesterday. (I took something else.)I didn't take the test yesterday. (I took it some other day.)

other things italics can do include indicating sarcasm (“Oh, of course, no one else has ever thought of this, because you’re so clever.”), and highlighting important/argument-relevant (“As I mentioned earlier: fish can feel love. This is just one reason amongst many, however, that fish-human marriage is undeniably ethically sound.”). i’m 90% sure that that latter one is probably also focus-related, but i don’t know enough about information structure generally to commit entirely to calling it focus - tbh, given how many different theories of focus there are, it may be focus under some theories, but not others (see also: that one theory on the wiki page where anything not given is focused, so if you’re specifically bringing up or reminding people of a relevant piece of information it’s probably not given and therefore focused). if the important / argument-relevant use is not focus-related, though, then it’s at least somehow related to information structure; perhaps italics are more generally useable to indicate something about information structure, without it specifically needing to be focus.

stress done with initial capitalisation, however, seems to be a little different - or at least, seems to occur in broader contexts than the one above. i suspect you could do an entire postgrad thesis on the similarities and differences between the two (and i also suspect that i don’t remember enough about syntax and phonology and information structure etc. to offer the best insight possible here), but let’s see if we can’t at least pick the differences apart a bit.

so! initial capitalisation can certainly be used in the same contexts as italics, for focusing new / relevant information and for contrastive focus. this evidenced by: (a) “omg, have u considered that turtles are Sexually Attracted To Fruit??” and “pls remember that Fish Can Feel Love” are both perfectly a-okay in internet english, and (b) by an edited version of the wikipedia examples:

I didn't take the test yesterday. (Somebody else did.)i Didn't take the test yesterday. (I did not take it.)i didn't Take the test yesterday. (I did something else with it.)i didn't take The test yesterday. (I took a different one.)i didn't take the Test yesterday. (I took something else.)i didn't take the test Yesterday. (I took it some other day.)

(initial capitalisation with “I” is always a little tricky (is it emphasis, or is it just normal capitalisation?), and in my expereince people tend to default to italics with it wherever possible for this reason. i’m also… unsure about how happy i am with the grammaticality (how “okay” a particular sentence is within a given language / dialect) of examples 4 & 5 (“The” and “Test”), but that might be because those two are a little unusual even with italics - “i didn’t take The Test today” looks much better, i think, and can mean both “i took a different one” and “i took something else”.)

however, it’s clear that initial capitalisation can occur in places where italicisation is either outright incorrect, or at least looks kind of weird:

[cute picture of a cat lying on its back, pulling a face, having knocked a plant pot off the table]

commenter A: “Why Do Cats Do These Things”

commenter B: “why do cats do these things”

commenter A’s statement is perfectly correct internet english; commenter B’s statement is just about interpretable, but quite clearly clumsy / not really acceptable in the opinion of most “native internet english speakers”. but why?? well, we’re clearly not focusing “do these things” (because it’s not really providing any information, it’s just sort of… pointing out that the cat in the picture is being weird and then asserting that this is prototypical cat behaviour. it’s trying to tap into a shared knowledge of “what cats do / are like” between “speaker” and reader), and though it’s somewhat humorous it’s not actually sarcastic, so italics are a no-go.

what commenter A is trying to do, however, is to indicate a specific usage / meaning of “do these things” via a specific “tone of voice”. commenter A is not just asking why cats behave specifically in this manner re: knocking pots off and pulling faces, they’re trying to indicate that they consider cats in general to act weirdly and look goofy; typing “why do cats do these things” would be mostly fine if you are indicating frustration / anger with a sudden plague of cats-knocking-off-plant-pots, but that’s not what commenter A is trying to communicate.

additionally, when i say “Why Do Cats Do These Things” out loud, there’s a specific tone of voice i use for it, that i suspect others do to - this kind of flat monotone, with a heavy weight on each word that’s not so much emphasis but a very careful over-pronunciation. it’s not quite emphasis, and definitely not focus-emphasis; it’s almost a comedy thing, or a joke; it’s drawing attention to a specific interpretation of this sentence that’s both humorous and typical within internet spaces; it’s indicating a kind of emotion (exasperation / affection / despair) more than anything.

some other examples of this, where capitalisation is a-okay but italics are somewhere between weird and entirely unacceptable:

“nah it’ll be fine, i’m Basically Immortal lol”

“getting run over would be Suboptimal”

“if word crashes and deletes this essay then, i swear to god, I’m Gonna Die”

“you’re a Terrible Human Being and i love it”

(if anyone can think of any examples where italics and capitalisation is okay, but are in the same style as the above, then let me know! or if people disagree with my analysis of what initial capitalisation sounds like out-loud. this sort of thing relies on native speaker judgements, usually, and although i am as close to a native internet english speaker as you’re gonna get, i’m only one person. other people may have other judgements.)

i suspect, from all of this, that the function of initial capitalisation is to indicate any kind of change in prosidy in the speaker’s voice (though primarily weird monotone), usually with an emphasis on a specific interpretation of the particular phrase that’s initially-capitalised. this is why it can be used for focus, and for sarcasm, and for more general emphasis the same way - but why it can also be used to represent a monotone (“I Would Prefer Not To”) in a way italics can’t, or to indicate that specific “you know what i’m talking about / i am referring to a concept we both share but that cannot be put into words” tone (“Why Are You Like This”), or that looping-up-and-down voice people use when they’re winding someone up (“I Am A Joy And A Delight, idk what you’re talking about :3ccc”).

italics can kind of be used for some of these, but only really as an extension of its function as an indicator of sarcasm - which means that italics are intelligible in that context, but just look weird, and like the person using them isn’t very fluent in internet english. that’s because initial caps don’t quite indicate sarcasm, though it occupies a similar teasing-dramatic tonal area; in some / most instances, initial caps seems to function similar to adding “lmfao” or “lol” onto the end, which suggests it’s also indicating a self-depreciating or bleak humour / drama to the sentence. initial caps seem to function, then, as a focus / emphasis device, but also as an emotion indicator, which is a sort of fascinating crossover of function - but very similarly to the way we see voice and prosidy being used for both focus / emphasis, and for conveying emotion.

so, you probably use italics + capitalisation in conjunction because you’re trying to convey two different things. for a sentence like “drinking three cups of coffee in a row is a terrible, awful, no good idea and oh my god Why Would You Do That”, the italics are conveying where you’re putting stress / emphasis in the sentence (on “oh my god why would you do that”). the initial capitalisation, however, is indicating that on top of emphasis, you’re saying “why would you do that” in a specifically unusual kind of prosidy, probably quite a flat and monotone one, and that it’s designed to be teasing / humorous.

i also suspect that italics + capitalisation can be used as a kind of “double emphasis”, or marking out an emphasised section within an already emphasised talking point. kind of the way bolding sometimes works?? (except the internet tends not to use bolding fsr, or only uses it for headings / as a way to highlight the most important sentences in a wall of information. it’s a structural-level organisational device, essentially.) so you can re-parse “it’s so important we feed cats and dogs different food, because cats are not dogs and have different dietary requirements!!!” as “[...], precisely because Cats Are Not Dogs and have different dietary requirements!!!”. in this instance, you’re emphasising that the reason for different treatment is that cats are not dogs and therefore have different dietary requirements, but also emphasising the fact in and of itself that cats are not dogs.

i also also suspect that, when we just need one form of emphasis and are choosing whether to use italics or initial capitalisation, we consider the context of our writing. in this “essay”, i’ve mostly used italics - they’re a little more “formal” as far as internet language goes (so, not very formal at all, but still more standard than initial caps), they’re more semantically accessible (i.e. if non-tumblr people find this essay, whereas they might be able to proactively work out what initial caps are intended to convey from context, they’ll probably intuitively understand the use of italics here), and they’re more visually accessible / they disrupt the visual flow of the text less. when i’m talking with friends (especially on platforms like skype and discord and tumblr messenger which, if they support italics at all, do so in a “non-intuitive” way, i.e. not using ctrl+i like word processing software does), in shorter / less formal settings, where the visual flow of the sentence is part of the meaning / emotion of the sentence in and of itself (how long are the sentences? do you use full stops? do you capitalise the beginnings of sentences? do you send each sentence as a new message? on a new line? how many dots do you use for ellipses? keysmashes? ?!??!??!?!?!?!!!! ?), i tend to use initial caps.

so tl;dr: italics seem to be primarily used to indicate focus - you’re pointing out a new or specifically relevant piece of information, or you’re correcting / denying a piece of information that your conversational partner has provided (or perhaps being sarcastic). initial capitalisation can Also/also be used for this purpose, but is additionally used to represent Any/any kind of change in prosidy that would occur if you spoke the sentence aloud (since we also mess about with intonation for other reasons beside focus). ...i sincerely hope someone has done / is doing / will do a thesis on this bc honestly this probably has some fascinating implications for information structure or prosidy or Something/something tbh.

regarding the “mutations” comment: these sorts of internet english quirks are not language mutations, per se, because we already have features for distinguishing this kind of thing in spoken english - and also because a lot of this stuff is what we call paralinguistic phenomena, which means that sarcasm and emphasis etc. communicate something, but it’s not actually strictly part of the language itself. it just adds an extra layer of meaning on top of the stuff being conveyed by the actual words.

instead, they’re adaptations of our orthographic (writing) system to cope with the increasing demands of written/internet english to convey these sorts of things. online, we don’t have people’s prosidy and their body language / expressions to read, so we need altered orthography or other visual indicators to ensure that people correctly understand the intent and mood behind your communication, not just the raw word-content of it. that’s why internet english has developed these quirks. essentially: our communication has always had these paralinguistic phenomena, these ways to convey emotion and emphasis; we’re just finding different ways of expressing them in response to environmental restrictions, i.e. the fact we’re all increasingly communicating via text on a regular, intensive basis. historically, we’ve primarily communicated verbally, so it’s not developed due to lack of need - but the internet has has created a heavily-used, text-primary environment, so now we do need it, and we’re collaboratively creating it as a result because humans (especially young humans) are excellent language innovators. it’s pretty neat!!

(as an interesting aside, i suspect that there’s also an element of in-grouping going on here. people want to mark out the community belong to, the people they’ve chosen as their “tribe” - irl, we do this via slang, and accents, and sometimes through certain types of wordplay or forms of prosidy / gesture etc. obviously, online, we can have slang (think about how often you’ve seen someone on tumblr say “top kek”, versus how ubiquitous that phrase is on reddit), but accents are a little harder. so we instead develop different ways of typing, different ways we use italics or capitalisation or emotes. some of this depends on platform constraints - if your community’s site doesn’t allow bold/italics, or automatically converts emotes into weird yellow smileys, you’re gonna have to develop workarounds for that - but some of it is us going “these are my people, and i can tell because we talk differently, and we’re Not Like You People”. this is why it can sometimes be linguistically disorienting going onto a different platform; i often find posters’ “tone” on reddit hard to read, because they seem to signal emotion differently to on tumblr!!

this may, perhaps, also be a reason why we’ve ended up with both capitalisation and italics - if one social group developed italics as emphasis, and a second social group (perhaps on a platform without capacity for italics) developed capitalisation as emphasis, and then the two groups merged or interacted, you’re gonna get this linguistic transference where the groups adopt one another’s styles without dropping their own original style. and then- voila! both italics and capitalisation for emphasis. but because language often tends towards getting rid of redundancy, the two styles specified out into having slightly different connotations / occuring in slightly different pragmatic environments. or, perhaps, the capitalisation style was always broader than italics, and there’s not been any change yet to reduce redundancy, but there will be in the future. who knows!)

(as a second interesting aside, all of this is probably partly why autistic people often report online friendships being easier / report preferring textual communication to face-to-face. whereas expressions and prosidy can be exceptionally difficult to learn to read if they’re not instinctual - think of the infinite variations of muscle contraction and relaxation in the face! the number of different pitches and volumes and patterns we can make with our voice! they’re very difficult to categorise because they overlap a lot and tend to gradient into one another - these kinds of “emotional tags” are usually quite easy and clear-cut. “/s” indicates sarcasm every time it is used, entirely unambiguously. stuff like “lol” or “tbh” are a little more ambiguous, but even then, they have a more limited set of emotional contexts that they’re used in than, say, the corners of your lips moving upwards. gifs and memes are even better; if they don’t outright say what they mean on the gif or in the meme, there’s entire websites dedicated to cataloguing and explaining memes should you be unclear of the usage.

additionally, internet environments can be a little more forgiving wrt people not picking up on tone, or using an incorrect / weird tone, when conversing; it’s hard to display tone online, and even allistic people (especially internet newbies or older people) struggle with it, so tonal faux pas or misunderstandings are a little more expected (and therefore forgiven) than irl.)

[illumous]

IB ➞ Art school???

I’ve gotten some PMs with questions about taking the IB Programme in high school and how it’s now affecting me in art school now so I thought I would finally do a Post(TM) about it. Again, everything I’m about to talk about is based on my personal experience but please feel free to talk with me if you have any concerns about this post. I want to put myself out there and help others if I can since I had so much support getting to where I am now. If you have any other questions about art college or the likes, please feel free to shoot them my way 💘

WHAT IS IB?

The International Baccalaureate Programme (aka. IB) is a “fast paced” program for middle and high school students that’s supposed to promote students to think independently and critically. At my school, there was a set courselist, with one or two elective choices. Some courses were Standard Level (SL) and some were Higher Level (HL), which certain post secondary schools allow to swap out for first year credits. IB is different in different schools and different countries though, but overall, It’s meant to be an alternative and more challenging high school experience. 

IB + ME: 

I can’t say I had the most positive time in IB or anything since I was also REALLY struggling with mental health at the time and had hated every moment I was in high school. But upon reflection, there really were things to be gained from the experience. Pros and Cons. 

I was in full IB until second semester grade 10. At that point, I was already thinking about studying art after high school, but was afraid to commit to it entirely because there was so much pressure from my parents and peers to go into a “respectable” career and get a “high paying job in science or math or business” or something. So I dropped to partial IB as a compromise and took IB math, Art and HL English, as well as regular Ontario Uni level Physics, Bio, CompSci, etc etc etc. 

DO YOU USE ANY OF THE STUFF YOU LEARNED IN IB CLASSES IN ART SCHOOL? 

No. 

I have an official credit for Grade 12 Advanced Functions but the most math I do now is occasionally multiplying by 12. Could I solve a quadratic equation now? Don’t even know what that is anymore. 

BUT! You never know what could inspire you. I was so interested in quantum physics, I’m literally writing a story about parallel universes. Learning is almost always good. 

LET’S TALK ABOUT IB ART FOR ONE HOT SECOND: 

I did find IB Art incredibly applicable and helpful because it taught me how to keep a sketchbook and understand the creative process, neither of which you actually directly get graded on in the animation program at Sheridan but is personally tremendously beneficial for developing ideas and creating pieces. Now I draw thumbnails for everything I do. And I appreciate them!

Even if you walk away from IB Art with the most garbage collection - no sweat, it’s only high school and it’s learning the process of creating art that is so so important! When I applied for Sheridan Illustration (the same year I was accepted into Sheridan Animation), I basically repeated a simplified version of the IB Art process and was accepted into the program with a portfolio score of 80, with 9/10s in Process/Ideation, Media Exploration and Sketchbook, which you REALLY focus heavily on in IB Art. 

I would highly recommend taking IB Art if you are thinking about doing art after high school, or doing art in general. 

BEING AN ART STUDENT IN IB:

I hate that Art Kids(TM) have a bad rep. People always assume that art is a dead end career and we all starve and we’re all morally questionable people but that’s not true at all!

But being that Token Art Kid in IB (outside of IB Art class) actually made me feel awful back then. I was always kind of an odd one out. That’s not to say that people weren’t nice or anything. But there was so much pressure to not go into art. Ever since I was a kid, I’d always wanted to be an “artist when I grow up” but I found that in high school, I’d often say that I was “interested in art but was also thinking of pursuing an alternative career in this and that” because I was afraid of being looked down on in an environment where everyone around me wanted to do something “brainy”. Admitting that I wanted to do art almost felt self depreciating because everyone else was actually going to get a “real job” and live “better lives”. But that’s totally not the case! I ended up spending a lot of time taking a bunch of science and math courses I didn’t really like to maintain my twenty thousand irrelevant Back-Up Plans.

IB AND LEARNING SKILLS: 

I think no matter what you do, having good organization and time management skills is always going to be so so important! 

Sheridan Animation is such a loaded program, you really have to try to schedule your time well. I used to complain about the IB courseload but I honestly feel like Sheridan Animation is so much more laborious. We had 8 courses + an elective last semester, each about 2 to 3 hours a week, plus all the time you had to put into doing homework and living life and sleeping. 

Even though IB is meant to keep you busy to force you to learn good work ethics, I don’t think forcing someone to work harder necessarily means that they are going to learn how to manage their time. I was 100% unmotivated and depressed and self destructive in high school. I was in IB for four years but I always studied the night before an exam up until the very last one. And when I graduated and moved out, I realized that I was a mess and I had to change, and it was that self realization was what motivated me to learn how to slowly put together my life back together. Only then did I start taking steps to curate my life and learn how to plan ahead and schedule my week and get! stuff! done! 

So all in all, maybe IB does put you in an environment where having good learning skills will benefit you, and maybe that will motivate you to learn how to maintain a good work ethic. But I really do think skills like how to study and learn and live life is something that you have to be aware of as an individual and want to work towards. Being in IB may help with those things, but it isn’t going to suddenly grant you powers to study two weeks in advance and keep track of all your assignments in a way that works for you. You have to learn to do that yourself. 

HL CREDITS (AT SHERIDAN): 

Not all schools acknowledge HL credits. Sheridan claims to. I know people in Sheridan Animation who have used their HL credits at other universities before coming to our school but I’ve never spoken to anyone at Sheridan who has used them in a Sheridan program. 

This is lowkey a call out post @ Sheridan, but I have tried applying for advanced standing with my IB HL credit to replace my electives twice, but neither time went through. They claimed to not have the proper paperwork, and when I paid for IB to send my transcript to Sheridan, it was never found (despite there being a confirmation email from IB that it had been sent to the right place) so I was unable to get it processed due to a lack of paperwork. And when I tried to follow up through email, I was ignored. 

(If you have successfully gotten your HL credit request to go through at Sheridan, please PM me and tell me how :’^)) 

I do know for a fact that even if you could, in theory, replace some electives at Sheridan with your HL credits and as long as you still had enough courses a semester to consider you a full time student, you would still pay the same amount of tuition. You would just be less busy. 

SHOULD I TAKE IB THEN? 

Honestly, it’s up to you and your own life! 

I know I rambled on for so long only to give the most passive and watery advice but I think you should do what you believe is best for you! Just be aware that whatever you choose is going to lead you to a different future and all your actions will have consequences (good or bad or either) and be okay with that. 

Sometimes, I wish I didn’t do IB so I could have more free time to draw. Maybe if I drew more in high school, I would have gotten into Sheridan Animation a year earlier. But if I did that, I wouldn’t have learned how to paint in Art Fundies and have the friends I do now and live with people I love. Everything I’ve ever done up to this point has brought me here and I wouldn’t change a thing about the past so all I can do is work on making my future, you know :)) 

If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading. Good luck!