addicted to fame






tommosarmpits  asked:

hello sunshine!!. i dont know if u already talk about this sorry.. it hard to be an adult :o. but can u share with me what do u think this lines mean for harry in meet me in the halfway?? "i walked the streets all day running with the thieves." & the last line "cuase once you go without it nothing else will do"

I’m sorry that I took so long, @tommosarmpits. I had an emergency last week.

Meet Me in the Hallway is a song that compares love to addiction. We know that the song was written before May 7 (when Harry made his IG post about donating hair to the Little Princess Foundation), because of these photos from @kristyjeannn:

I have posted previously about some ambiguity in the lyrics. Apple Music initially had these lyrics (screen-captured by a friend):

Later changed to these:

So it appears that the from “more of you” to “morphine” came later. “Morphine” makes the comparison more straight-forward and explicit. But the initial lyrics already suggests the attitude of an addict:

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor
Maybe we’ll work it out
Gotta get better, gotta get better
Gotta get better, gotta get better

Give me some more
Just take the pain away

What’s also super interesting to me is the very first line of the original lyrics (see first photo): Take Me Home. A reference to One Direction (the very first words of the very first solo album), and also a reference to The Wizard of Oz / Home (and Louis’ song). Later, of course, it was changed to “…two, three, four.” 

But the allusion to HOME is not accidental. 

Sweet creature, sweet creature
Wherever I go, you bring me home
Sweet creature, sweet creature
When I run out of road, you bring me home

Incidentally, go to Google Lyrics, and you’ll see that the lyrics still say:

When I run out of rope, you bring me home

Sorry for the detour. I think that the last lines clearly refer to an addiction (to both love and drugs) that only another hit can satisfy:

We don’t talk about it
It’s something we don’t do
‘Cause once you go without it
Nothing else will do

I think the lyrics,

I walked the streets all day
Running with the thieves

describe how a junkie might behave, running in the streets, trying to steal currency to buy his addiction. “Running with the thieves” conjures up a poetic, romantic image. One imagines something like Alibaba and the Forty Thieves, a band of ne’er-do-wells who live and die by street rules of courage and loyalty. 

The Take Me Home lyric opening also makes me think that this song might be about an addiction to the kind of fame that Harry experienced as a member of One Direction– the unstoppable, hysterical adulation that gave him such a high when he was on stage. Once a performer experiences that kind of stratospheric love, it’s hard to deny it to oneself, hard not to want to continue being in the band and getting huge audiences, listening to the screams. 

‘Cause once you go without it
Nothing else will do

Then the lyrics “I walk the streets all day/ running with the thieves” describe what we saw in the If I Could Fly listening party video, at the end, where the tour bus pulls away from the venue, leaving fans behind, the foreground dark. The boys are truly alone. They have no family, no friends from home. They walk with strangers. They are with people who want to take advantage of them, want to sell them and sell to them– thieves. 

Again, I apologize for the delay. Please feel free to message me back. Thanks.


Amy called me and I saw her in New York. She wasn’t puffed up about herself at all. She was almost embarrassed by the fact that she was doing so well. She expressed a lot of concern about the way things were gonna go and how she was gonna handle it.

 She was just like, ‘What am I supposed to do in this space?’

I was staying at the K-West Hotel. Very late in the night, she knocks on the door and I’m alone. She comes in and just sits on the couch. I remember feeling really happy for her, and also concerned because she didn’t really know how to be that thing that she had been pushed to become from her own success.

Then she pulled out this aluminum foil. She said, ‘Does this bother you?’  and I said, ‘Amy, I love you. I don’t mind that you get high. but… I mind that you get high.’  

She did what she did, and I thought, this is someone who is trying to disappear.” 

~Mos Def, Amy (2015)


Alyssa Edwards, Gia Gunn, Courtney Act, Barbie’s Addiction, Willam, Miss Fame, Jaidynn Fierce, Mariah Balenciaga, Violet Chachki, Pandora Boxx, Jasmine Masters, Amazon Ashley, Jessica Wild, Miley Cyrus, Shangela, Monica Beverly Hillz, Pearl, Delta Work, Cupcake Canne, Alexis Mateo, Jiggly Caliente, Trinity K. Bonet, PorkChop, Carmen Carrera, Cake Moss, Tammie Brown, Kylie Sonique Love, Melissa Befierce, Vivacious and Laganja Estranja.
Sincerely, a Ghost - Toryb - Riverdale (TV 2017) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones
Additional Tags: serial killer!jughead, Dark!Jughead, Not for the faint of heart, idealization of betty cooper, Blood, dexter-ish jughead, who kills for aesthetic but also people people are bad
Series: Part 1 of Dear Angel

I posted wanting to do this and a lot of people said they were interested in seeing it! here’s the link to AO3 copy but under the cut I’m also going to post it. Reminder: this is not for the faint of heart.

What he did was not a desire, nor a compulsion. It was an art. Blood splattered against a beautiful mosaic backdrop, a body crumpled in a heap on an imported carpet, and a knife, cleaned of prints, jutting out from a cracked skull. Nothing could inspire him quite like these nights did.

The written word came effortlessly to him, much like the murders. Art had been his solace in a world cruel and unjust. Beauty was a singular light, offering redemption. The first letter had been a desperate act to clear his conscience, hastily scrawled on the back of a napkin from Pop Tate’s dinner and slipped into the mailbox, addressed to the only New York paper he could name off hand. When the story was published, his words at last appreciated, the addiction to fame slowly crept up, feeding the greedy demon in his soul.

So, he made art again.


And Again.

And Again.

Next week marked his two-year anniversary. But for once, he lacked inspiration. Whatever muse he clung to had slowly been fading. Soon he feared she would be completely snuffed out. No doubt this was his own doing. Using and using and using until he sucked the world dry. Above all, his art lacked purpose. He hungered for the familiar rush, the high of justice and beauty, a cleansing of his own deadly sins.

It certainly wasn’t the chase that thrilled him. Every police officer after him stumbled over their own shoe laces. Not that he made the job easy. No, not a single piece of evidence that could identify him was left at the crime scene, and the letters were either typed or written in his left hand. He came and went, snuffing out a soul before fleeing back into the shadows. Ghost, the world called him. So, Ghost, he would be.

Well, not all the time. Sometimes he was just Jughead Jones: the man who lived in the cottage far away from the city center and wrote novels. Famous for his hermitage, only the pizza delivery boy really knew his address. When he spent his days in the city, he always went to the same place: a local coffee shop close to the paper. This made it much easy to pick up something hot off the presses and smile at the headlines.

Ghost Strikes Again! Corpse Found Mangled

Jughead frowned looking at the black print. Mangled the body was not. Staged. Thoughtful. Elegant. That was what his work was. The new reporter taking his letters, Chuck Clayton, was someone he did not like. They didn’t understand him, not like Phillip had. But that man had met an unfortunate end. He stepped too close and Ghost rarely liked company.

A woman sat across the way from him, studying the paper almost as intently as he had. The sunlight hit her hair like a glowing halo. He wanted to reach out, push away whatever made her look so unsettled.

Usually never one to speak to strangers, he much preferred to watch and wait, Jughead heard the words come from his mouth before he could stop himself. “It’s crazy, right? The killings?”

Her green eyes pierced through his soul. It was like she could see into his very depths. For a moment, the demon inside him retreated, sizzling under her strong gaze. At long last he felt inspired again, creativity surging through his veins. No doubt this woman was an angel on earth, come just for him as a beacon of beauty.

“It is. No one can catch him either because he just…well like the name implies,” she gave a sheepish laugh, “He’s a ghost.”

Her laughter. He needed to hear it again. Forever maybe, looped over and over like a record player. Only for him and no one else, locked away like Rapunzel so nothing could corrupt her pure innocence.

With boldness, he had never experienced before, Jughead moved to sit across from her. It was intoxicating being so close. He craved to reach out, be gentle with her porcelain skin. Or maybe swipe a knife across, watching as the red blood stained alabaster. Would she crack like an antique china doll, crumble in his filthy grasp?

“Is it weird to say I think what he does is almost poetic?” she kept talking, and he wished she would never stop. “I mean obviously it’s terrible, he’s killing people. But the way he does it…it’s…different. Weirdly beautiful. He plans everything so methodically, you know? And right down the color of the carpet he gets every single speck of grain right.”

She understood. His angel understood him, his art, his passion. Surely the world was watching over him, giving him such inspiration in his time of need. For her, he would move mountains.

“No, I understand. I think it is too. Maybe it’s because I used to read Edgar Allen Poe before going to bed as a kid, but macabre stuff is right up my alley,” he smiles gently and watches the fear leave her eyes. He wants it back. “I’m Jughead Jones by the way.”

“Betty Cooper!” she smiled brightly, “I actually write for the paper too. I wish I was lucky enough to get my hands on this story though. I know most people think it’s cursed after Phillip kind of…met a really unhappy ending, but it would be my big break. I’ve always wanted to work the crime beat.”

“And instead some guy name Chuck Clayton is writing?” he raised an eyebrow, “How many asses did he have to kiss to get that job?”

Betty rolled her eyes. “All of them. He’s friends with the editor in chief’s son so he gets all the good stories and I’m stuck with stuff on nearly the last page,” she blushed and looked away, momentarily embarrassed. “You didn’t come sit here to listen to me complain about my job though. Sorry about that.”

If there was something she wanted, he would give it to her. Wheels were already turning, calculating his next move. Chuck never did anything wrong, not that he knew of, and a man with a name like that would never be art. He would ruin it, turn it to filth. But there were other means of this. How could the world deny the request of a simple artist?

They spent many hours talking that day. Jughead memorized every breath, every flutter of her lashes, every minuscule micro expression. When the coffee was too hot she blew on it four times. When the bell rang at noon, she hummed along with it. If they spoke about something of interest to her, she would lean a little closer and their hands would nearly touch.

Her phone buzzed gently on the table, revealing a screensaver of lilies.

“Are they your favorite flower?” he asked.

Betty nodded, silencing the alarm. “They are. My best friend Veronica always buys me some for my birthday. Which is ridiculous but sweet.”

“I like it. My favorite are blue bells.”

She smiled again, but this time it faltered. “I have to go Jughead. I promised my mom I’d call her tonight, but um…do you think I could maybe…”

Without hesitation, he penned his number on the napkin, handing it to her wordless. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek before scurrying out of the building. A fire ignited in his soul. If someone in the café listened closely they could hear the demon’s screech. The touch of an angel would cleanse his wicked soul.

A few nights later, his work came easier than ever. The woman had left her window open, an ignorant and cocky mistake that would force her to pay the heaviest price of them all. He was silent, having memorized every creak in her floor boards already. She didn’t scream when the knife met her throat. There wasn’t time.

He was much more delicate with her than the others, setting her lithe frame up at the tea parlor. He filled her cup with her favorite: an imported jasmine. The record player scratched a tune familiar, one he hummed along with, working diligently as he threaded the needle in and out of her tight skin. The irony made him shiver. A woman who loved tea so desperately but could no longer taste it.

All that was left were the finishing details. Tearing a sheet from her signature stationary, he scribbled out the nightly story, never forgetting a single gory detail. He slipped it into the envelope addressing it to the angel at the newspaper. It was her he wanted to write his story now. Not some miserable beast.

He stepped forward, cutting the locket from his victim’s neck. He opened the antique silver, tutting gently. Two lovely children with bright green eyes. Neither of which belonged to her. What naughty things did she do with them when the world was silent and they couldn’t scream?

From his bag, he procured the final piece. A single white lily, placed dead center in the expensive crystal vase. A lily for his angel. His art was for her alone now. He hoped his letter would find her well.

Dear Betty,

I’ve never done something like this before. But I hope you’ll forgive me for my shaky hands and lackluster prose. You are truly an angel, uncorrupted by the world. I wish I could lock you up, my sweet song bird, so you would sing gentle things only to me. But I do not deserve such beauty in my presence. I’m a demon in man’s skin.

I do hope you enjoyed the lilies. I know they’re your favorite.


A Ghost

It is as though we, as a society, have become addicted to fame, and hate the subject and substance of our addiction. We hate the famous for demanding our attention, even if they haven’t. We are angry that they made us drive a thousand miles to request an autograph, even when they didn’t. We are always growling, ‘How dare they treat us like that?’ even if they haven’t. And if any of this – the absurd attention itself, or the disdain it arouses within us – somehow that hurts or inconveniences the famous, what the hell? They have all the money and all the fame and they shine in the dark and feel good all the time, and they wanted this anyway.
—  Feel (Robbie Williams) - by Chris Heath

Ah. Vices and Virtues. The record right after the split. Spite and lust. Brendon giving writing a record a try for the first time. Why not use Ryan’s first album as a guideline. The album Ryan did on cheating exes and life experiences. I might go a little NSFW on this analysis because, well, gay sex.

It’s said, “If you don’t let it out
You’re gonna let it eat you away.”
- I’m going to give two possible interpretations of this because fuck, why not. Now from my previous song analysis's I explored how Brendon didn’t think Ryan loved him. This relates to that. He just wants Ryan to come out and say how he feels. Why they had to give everything up, why Ryan cared so much about staying humble when fame could give them everything they want. Second meaning, and don’t freak out or anything, but cum. Yeah, basically this could be about getting a blowjob, having cum in your mouth and deciding to spit or swallow (in the case of this song it’s Ryan giving a blowjob)
I’d rather be a cannibal, baby- Brendon is thinking Ryan would rather let his heart stay shut and risk his feelings eating him alive. Or it could be about swallowing (yes okay, this second meaning isn’t all deep, but we also have to remember it’s Brendon. That man can be quite the fuckboy)
Animals like me don’t talk anyway- Ryan is shy as hell. He would have a really hard time talking about something like this, especially if he himself was conflicted on how Bren really felt. He wouldn’t want to chance Brendon using this information and not actually feeling the same way back
Feel like an ambulance- Brendon is comparing himself to the saviour of Ryan. Which when I did When The Day Met The Night, we see that Ryan himself states Brendon as his saviour. Which leads me to believe that maybe Brendon was also trying to figure out the secrets of Ryan’s lyrics as well, unless Ryan actually wrote this song for Brendon and told him so
Chaser of faith- The way Ryan made Brendon feel was different than anything he had felt. He put himself on the line and just had faith that Ryan felt the same
Pray I could replace her- Both Brendon and Ryan use a woman and a man in their songs, as things would be obvious if they used a man and a man. Brendon was just trying to get over Ryan and replace him. But there is no way to get over the person you feel so close with. So here we see a non religious man praying because of the desperate situation he found himself in
Forget the way her tears taste- Remembering how you hurt someone you care for is a terrible pit in your stomach and a bitter flavour in your mouth. Brendon is trying to forget everything that happened and all the pain that came out in the end. He doesn’t want to remember seeing Ryan cry, but most importantly, he doesn’t want to remember seeing Ryan walk out the door for the last time
Put another ex on the calendar- This is a reference to Ryan (and Jon) leaving. They all were very close and Bren has said in an interview that while writing this song they realized it became more about losing their band members than losing a girl friend. I’m going to assume Spencer pointed that out and Brendon went along because he knew himself it was about Ryan, and debating this fact with Spencer would rise suspicision. 
Summer’s on its deathbed- This could be a reference to the fact that the band that once was simple and started in Summerlin, has died. No longer is it friends making music and having fun, it is a serious career and there is no going back to what once was. 
There is simply nothing worse
Than knowing how it ends
- Blantantly obvious. Knowing what happened and all the emotions that come with it is terrible. It’s hard not knowing why a relationship ended, but knowing everything is worse
And I meant everything I said that night- As I’ve said in my other Ryden theories, I believe there was an ultimatum between fame and friendship and Brendon went with fame. But I also think he tried to convince Ryan to stay with him through the fame. That he would die without having Ryan there with him, but Ryan lost trust in Bren already
I will come back to life- As I said, he’d die without Ryan by his side
But only for you- And no one will bring back his spark other than Ryan
The world may call it a second chance- Brendon left the band at one time early on to try and pursue cosmetology, but everyone let him come back after he decided to stay
But when I came back it was more of a relapse- He was addicted to the fame and needed to on the winning side (these are a few lines of him reminiscing, once again trying to piece together the story)
Anticipation’s on the other line- Brendon, at this point, still thinks Ryan will come back to the band and get over everything. He thinks their love was true and doesn’t realize how much he actually hurt Ryan by letting him go 
And obsession called while you were out- Brendon is obsessing over everything that happened. He is trying to decipher how Ryan felt, if he still feels that way, why things went the way they did; his life has been consumed by figuring out if there was something there
Asleep in the hive- The tour bus was like their home and they were constantly working, hence they were worker bees and slept in their hive
I guess all the buzzing got to me- Once again comparing himself to a bee, but also his fans. As I’ve said, he adores fame and let it get the best of him, choosing it over friendship, and Ryan
Well, I’m still alive- He thought he’d die without Ryan, but somehow has managed to stay on his feet
At night your body is a symphony
And I’m conducting
- Gay sex. Aha, but no. Gay sex. But if you want a deeper meaning that might tie this whole verse together (because honestly the lyrics go everywhere here), he just referenced that fame got to him and even though Ryan left, he stayed on his feet. Ryan was the one who grounded the band and directed the directions they were going. But now Brendon gets to do whatever he wants. So this could be an analogy for the band. The band is the body, and success is the symphony. And now he is the conductor for where everything goes

All the pleasures of the world have their unpleasurable downside. Drugs bring addiction, fame brings users, even chocolate brings unwanted pounds. But the good we do in the world will feel as good the morning after as it does in the moment.
—  Unka Glen (
not a theory...

There are so many theories floating around that are so amazingly complex I feel like a blind, unperceptive potato, but I think a lot of the significance behind Wings and the HYYH trilogy simply lies in the lyrics. While there are definitely mythological and religious references in Bangtan’s newest concept, I think the main theme is about how fame and the idol life has ruined them. In their lyrics, there are topics of conformity, societal standards, identity, loneliness, depression, insecurity - things usually not spoken about in public.

When BTS debuted, their theme was rebellion against the rigid education system. They were optimistic and confident, encouraging fans to follow their own dreams, not just what their parents wanted for them. 

Rebel against the hellish society; dreams are a special pardon (No More Dream)

Students who are pressured to be number one live in between dreams and reality… there’s no choice but to consent (N.O)

Live your life, not any other’s lives (O!RUL82? Intro)

It’s during the Skool Luv Affair era that we start seeing hints of unhappiness in their lyrics.

It’s funny, you think anything is possible when you’re a kid, when you feel how hard it is to get through a day (Tomorrow)

I scream out of frustration, but the empty air echoes (Tomorrow)

Yoongi’s intro for HYYH Part I is all about fear, self-doubt, and the pressures of society slowly staining his dreams.

Because of the other’s standard of success, my worries spread like cancer again

I keep getting scared at the looming sense of reality. Others are running ahead but why am I still here?

I always interpreted this ^^ line to mean that Yoongi (and all the “rebellious youth” BTS represents) is finally seeing his classmates succeed in the way society expected them to - the good house, good car mentioned in N.O - and he’s still chasing his dream. He’s beginning to wonder if he made a mistake and is frightened of its consequences. (This will later play a big part in Wings.)

Keep reading

Okay, I’m pissed so I’m gonna rant.

If I was a new fucking parent, like Briana, I would not be out drinking and partying, not even a month after my baby is born, one, because it could hurt me, as your body still isn’t back to its normal routine, alcohol could damage cells and it could possibly, put you into hospital.

Secondly, if my baby had been born a month ago, I would not go out clubbing and drinking, fuck no, I’m not saying new parents should have no freedom but I’m just saying, getting pissed with my cousin would be the last thing on my mind.

Third, if I was a new father, like Louis, I’m fucking sorry to say this but going out with my girlfriend and smoking and drinking would not be a fucking priority, Louis is a respectful man and he loves children, he has 6 younger siblings for goodness sake, he would not abandon his child like his father did to him, I believe that if this entire thing was real, he would maybe call it off with Danielle for a while until he’s spent at least a couple months with his child.

Forth, again with the Danielle and Louis shit, what kind of father worries about walking around town holding his ‘girlfriends’ hand when his child is in need back at home, I do not believe for a second that Louis would go on about how excited he is and how happy he is to be a dad and then rarely ever see the child because he’s constantly with Danielle.

Fifth, doesn’t it seem strange that not one of louis’ bandmates and best friends have congratulated or seen their 'brothers’ baby, they’ve always said they’ve been as close as brothers, I don’t believe for a second that this billionaire boy band, who are on a 'break’ would not come down to see Louis’ baby and i don’t believe for a second that they wouldn’t address it online.

Sixth, Louis’ family stayed out of this entire thing up until Freddie was born, they didn’t once mention Louis and how 'happy’ he was or about how 'delighted’ they are to have a grandson/nephew, his sisters stayed completely out of it until felicite outed their family and that’s when shit kinda blew up, that’s when Louis posts a pic and Johanna talks about how happy he is.

Seventh, if you ever question whether this is real or not, because it has to be real right? Johanna has addressed it and is completely happy about it, listen, if her son isn’t ready to come out and his contract doesn’t end until March, she’s going to stand by him, no matter what, because it’s her son, she wants to protect him, she’s not going to say 'nope Larry is real, Freddie is fake, guys go home’ because she wouldn’t do that, we don’t know what goes on behind closed doors, maybe louis/Harry are too scared to come out or maybe they aren’t ready or maybe they’re worried it’ll ruin their career, stop tweeting Johanna saying Freddie is fake, expecting her to agree with it because she’s not there to make herself happy, she’s there to stand by her son.

Eighth, do not tell me that Harry fucking styles, who loves children, who is supposedly Louis’ best pal, would have not congratulated Louis or seen and a had picture with him, do not fucking tell me that this wouldn’t happen, because it fucking would, the boys are staying out of this for a reason.

And finally, why would briana’s family choose to, up until late, post fake photos and ask people to post fake photos if it was real, if all of this was real, there would be no need to use other people’s photos, it’d be real, the jungwirths are money hungry fame addicted liars, also, do you really expect me to believe that oli is just around for the fun of it? No, he’s obviously, if the baby is real, got a big part in this, Briana has multiple sex tapes, one of which, Oli is featured in, if, let’s say that this baby is a real child, then I do believe that Oli has some kind of role in its life.

Oh, and a little bonus, put yourself in Louis fucking Tomlinson’s position, a billionaire, a woman tells you she’s pregnant and you’ve possibly seen her once in your life, do not fucking tell me that you’d just accept that news and believe that she’s actually pregnant with your child, do not tell me that he wouldn’t beg for a DNA test, and do not tell me that after being told about this so called baby of yours, you’d willingly pay out all of the money that they’re asking for, no questions asked because quite frankly, that’s a bit fucking fishy to me, he just accepts the fact that some random woman, who he’s seen once is pregnant with his child, no questions asked and he’s just supplying an unhealthy amount of money, no questions asked. fucking bullshit.

I hope that’s cleared it all up for ya.

devilsparade  asked:

What were your thoughts about the Ric Flair 30 for 30? I cried at the part about his son 😔 I also think, while his experience is not everyone’s experience in the business, it definitely showed how addicting the fame can be at the detriment to your physical and mental wellbeing.

I disagree I think rics experience was the experience of most wrestlers at the time. It was purely the way of life back then and how pretty much all of them lived, partying, drinking, drugs and women. There’s so many wrestlers of that era that talk candidly about that aspect.

I thought it was good though, I really enjoyed it and I just wished it was a bit longer. especially about his last run in wwe because I’d love to know more about how he felt during that time because like HHH said he didn’t seem the same. He lost his spark.

It was very enjoyable though and I really would reccomend it to anyone who hasn’t seen it yet!

  • Demi Lovato: I have several mental illness for which I am receiving talk therapy, medication and meal plans to cope with them. I hope to help people by telling them about my own personal hell.
  • Y'all: OMG how can you use EDs, self-harm, and addiction for fame?!
  • Demi Lovato: I'm sick of talking about it, I don't wanna be sad all the time.
  • Y'all: OMG you hypocrite!
  • Demi Lovato: *tries really hard to love herself*
  • Y'all: Haha poot lovato, haha she's so ugly hahaHA
  • Demi Lovato: *stops giving a fuck about y'all, says and does whatever the fuck she wanta*
  • Y'all: OMG she should think before she speaks, so problematic H8 her
  • Me and Demi: Fuck y'all.

Here is Lizzy Lips, the Singer Spade.
Lizzy is the one of the four Elite performers in the semi villainous circus group called “Cirque du Cartes” alongside Bimbo, the clown of clubs, Rouge, the diamond flame and Sami Velvet, the Balloon of hearts.

Position: Human Cannon ball & tight robe walker
Power: N/A
Age: 40
Race: Human

Lizzy is a woman who is addicted to the fame and the flashy life and she came from a wealthy family her and her younger sisters joined the circus but her addiction to the fame is so strong that makes her so strong that she can smash a car!!

finally the elite performers are done and next will be their boss.

sorry for taking too long to post new drawing, Im currently doing my inktober in my Instagram account and i will try to redrew my inktober digitally and post it here.