#...can you tune accordions....

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Oh! Oh! Does fantasy Barnaby bark. Does he use his big boofs to deter creatures around camp? Guard dog instinct???

nah, that's not his job <3

[pepsimanan]

OH MY GOD??? YOUR ART IS SO PRETTY!!!!! <3

if you're still taking vsynth requests... have you ever drawn our queer icon Ritsu Namine...

#21 namine ritsu also, tysm!!

[lookninjas]

So I usually try to do music from a bunch of different countries on these playlists, but now that the Latvian thing has become an acknowledged running joke, it's time to take it to the next level. Also, while I dunk on the algorithm as much as any tumblr user... it really has taken my love of Citi Zēni and turned into a plethora of awesome artists that I've had an amazing time listening to. So I'm gonna just give Latvia some love here.

The game is simple: Pick a song from one of my bad descriptions. You do not have to recognize the song to pick it. Just go with the description that suits your mood. Feel the vibes. Vote, reblog so other people can vote, and at the end of a week I will make a playlist out of the results, from the song with the least votes to the song with the most votes.

If you are burningly curious about a song and don't want to wait a week, shoot me an ask and I will tell you what the song is. And if you want to hear the playlist (I promise you do), leave a comment asking to be tagged, or ask to be tagged when you reblog, and I will tag you.

Except I'm tagging @not-kaiva now, because you asked for recs that were similar to Bermudu Divstūris on the country poll, and I didn't really get back around to answering, but there will probably be something on this playlist you like, so stay tuned.

Okay, that's it. Please vote, please reblog, and please listen to something new this week. It's fun.

[mara-and-its-the-same]

hello there! I would love to read any of your thoughts/fics about Cal and/or Danny!

OR?! I could never pick between them, but for the sake of introductions let's start with thoughts because the fics are coming don't you worry. They just need a little fine tuning

Teeny thoughts/HCs for both below the cut (it's yap central up in here)🥰

Cal

I'm so obsessed with the way he talks, like absolutely entranced by his cadence and I love every scene of him telling some story. and I know that he'd know that, maybe not right away but eventually he'd recognize the look you give him around the bonfire while he's talking to the group is the same one you give him late in the evening close to the final page of your date nights. OH MY GOD!

when you find out he speaks french! i'm woozy just thinking about it, (i don't even care that i can't understand quebecois for the life of me) you'd ask him to say something to you just so you could hear the sound of it. even if he's gotten a little rusty since he hasn't has anyone to speak it with, and even if all he can recite are the few stories he remembers from his childhood, or motorcycle parts he's learned from the translations on the back of manuals. like a late night and you cant sleep and you just want the sound of his voice to relax to...he might not totally understand the attraction, but he's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth and if you're into it who is he to deny you such a simple wish?

and I don't think he'd be the type to be one of those "my old ball and chain" guys, like he's undoubtedly in love with you and in love with being around you as often as possible. so if you're home while he's working in the garage he's setting up a lawn chair for you to relax in, just to keep him company, if the weather's nice he's putting it out in the sun for you and if it's a little too hot he sets you up in the shade with a little cooler with whatever the two of you are into that week. and he's certainly not letting you lift a finger. not because he thinks you'll break something (which like you might, but who am i to judge) but because he doesn't want you getting grease all over your outfit or roughing up those soft, pretty hands of yours. he just wants your company

Danny

for right now in this moment, i'm all over the idea of being his "girl back home" like he's out in chicago with all these bikers getting into god knows what kind of trouble, while you're safe at home just thinking about him every hour of every day. of course he calls whenever he gets the chance, but it's never a sure thing with the amount of time he spends out on the longer runs. and long distance calls are expensive, but every time he does it's so precious. the few times you hear some new midwestern phrase or pronunciation slip in and get a few extra seconds on the call just to poke a little more fun at him.

the guys get ahold of his wallet one day and can't believe he's kept you a secret this long. 3 different pictures of you sit in the accordion folded holder between the fold of his wallet and he thanks god for the feeling he got that morning he should change the ones he had in before (much more,,,invigorating if you will), for these three that he brought with him too, just to be sure he can see all your different expressions every time he reaches into his back pocket.

AND WHEN YOU COME TO VISIT!! at first he's not so sure it's the best idea, worrying you won't like the guys or something might happen once you're there, but all that is secondary the moment he thinks about how long it's been since he's last seen you, and before he knows it he's calling you back and taking you up on that offer to get a week off of work and coming to see him. Once you're there he's not leaving your side for a minute, firstly because he feels the need to let everyone else know you're his (and that you are real, as much as Zipco and Wahoo tried to get him to admit to the pictures in his wallet being magazine clippings because what's a girl like you doing with a pinko "college-boy" like him) and second because he's missed you so much for so long and he doesn't know the next time you'll be back so he's getting every second he can with you

and oh goodness are you impressed with this new look he's adopted. so different from what he used to wear to class or out walking around the city together, but still it fits him so well. your knees almost give out the 3rd day of your visit when he comes out from his bedroom in a black tank top and his denim vest...and maybe you do feign heat exhaustion just so he'll take you home early on the back of the bike he's spent so many phone calls telling you about...just because the heat was a more internal kind doesn't mean it's any less real. or maybe the exhaustion was just that you were getting tired of seeing him look that hot without doing anything about it. either way he hasn't seen you pull him up his apartment stairs that fast since you first started dating

and not maybe, but certainly, your trip goes from one week to two to a month until the tragic reality of responsibility sinks in and you realize you really are running out of clothes...

[bishopsbeloved]

something holy

lucy gray baird x female reader

Lucy Gray Baird has had you under her spell the entire time you’ve known her. She’s a creature not of this world, something gorgeous, something holy.

3k words, fluff, mild angst

Lucy Gray Baird is the sweetest girl you know.

You’ve known her for a while, now, but you’ve known of her for even longer. You’ve only ever lived in District Twelve, a Seam girl born and bred, but you remember more vividly than anything that colourful day the Covey were rounded up and forced to settle in your home. Even then, you felt a draw to them. Sure, everyone was intrigued by them, even more so once they stepped into the spotlight and made a name for themselves. You knew you weren’t special, you were one of many in a crowd of admirers, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to know them. You wanted to know the dark-haired girl your age, who you’d occasionally glimpse through a crowd or across a plaza. This hunger, barely sated by scraps of fleeting encounters across the span of years, would only grow with age.

Twelve is the district furthest from the Capitol, and it’s the most neglected, to be blunt — it still has the lowest Peacekeeper to population ratio in the entirety of Panem. A blessing in disguise, you consider it, but it often renders the Seam a relatively lawless place. When the Covey arrived, the best part of a decade ago, it was even worse. The Covey kids were never forced to attend Capitol-mandated schooling in the way that the rest of the Seam kids were because they weren’t really Twelve. They didn’t really didn’t bother anyone, for the most part, and so long as that remained the case there were more important rules to be enforced elsewhere.

For the first few years of their inhabiting a crumbling little red-brick cottage at the edge of the Seam, overlooking the woods, the Covey were like daylight ghosts around town. They wove flowers into each other’s braids every morning, wore long billowy clothes even in the coldest winter snow and communicated more through melody, or strange noises, than they did words. (For a good few years of your childhood, you’d stumble down to their ends of town once a week to offer clumsy good-wish bundles of flowers and herbs, and even ribbons when you could get your hands on them. You’d be met with wide smiles or hummed tunes or, towards the end of this practice, even a beamed thank you, sweetness from Lucy Gray herself, but nothing more, and so eventually you stopped.)

At night, though, they were ghosts no longer; they’d come alive, lighting up the whole Hob with foot-stomping tavern thrashers. As you grew older, more capable, and still more captivated by them, you found yourself more and more often in attendance. That’s how you ended up meeting her; a fight broke out in the pit one night. You were close to the stage as could be, how you were whenever you got the chance, and in a whirlwind of movement and noise you found yourself caught up in the conflict. A pitcher of ale ended up being emptied onto you and you yelped as the lukewarm amber seeped into your dress, whilst its former owner cursed the loss of his drink and angrily swung the empty pitcher at the head of the whoever knocked him into you. The music halted as chaos ensued, and you scrambled to escape.

“Alright, y’all, that’s enough,” said a forceful voice from the stage, a voice you’d recognise anywhere. “You want to fight, you can go outside t’do it, I hear there’s a hell of an audience in uniform out there too.”

Billy Taupe, by this point the size of a man with the broad shoulders to show for it, set down his accordion and leapt down from the stage, forcefully breaking up the conflict, with the lean Tam Amber quick to follow. You were practically swept up onto the stage, and in an effort to de-escalate Lucy Gray reached out her hands to lift you up and into safety. She was stronger than she looked, and you marvelled at the moment, surely gaping like a fool.

“Learn to behave, folks,” she playfully chastised the crowd as Billy Taupe and Tam Amber wrestled two men out the door. You stood stiff as a board beside her, still dripping head to toe. “I’m’na give you ten, and when I get back y’all better have sorted yourselves, alright?” She jabbed a finger playfully at no one in particular before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you backstage, Maude Ivory and Barb Azure hot on your heels.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” she asked you the moment you were out the crowd’s earshot, “we been watching that whole thing —”

“— they nasty out there tonight,” chimed in Maude Ivory.

“— sure we got an old dress o’ Lucy Gray’s milling around somewhere, get you outta that thing,” Barb Azure offered kindly.

“— come here, into the light, poor thing, are you hurt? Let me see it,” Lucy Gray fretted. Seeing your features properly for the first time under the flickering of the oil fixture on the wall, she paused. “I know you.”

“I been here before,” you offered, finally summoning the courage to speak.

“No,” Lucy Gray mused, “you… you done used to bring us flowers, didn’t you?”

You froze, flushing. “Guess I did. Didn’t think you’d remember.”

“Aw hey now, I’d never forget a pretty thing like you,” she scolded you. Your cheeks burned with colour the same shade as her lips. “Why’d you ever stop? We used t’love your visits.”

“She ain’t kidding,” added Barb Azure, eyes twinkling, “Lu would doll up real early on Sundays and wait around for you.”

“Oh, shut it, you big grass,” Lucy Gray muttered, dark eyes never leaving your face. Your breath caught in your throat. “Look, we ain’t sending you back out there. How’s about we’ll find you somethin’ to change into and you’ll sit pretty with us, alright, sweet thing? What’s your name, baby?”

After that night, she kept finding reasons to be near you. Despite the draw you felt to the Covey you were scared stiff of bothering them. You’d rather die than cause them any trouble. But you and Lucy Gray, and then the whole Covey, fell into a close friendship so quickly you couldn’t help but wonder if that feeling was mutual. For a while they would tentatively invite you to picnics at the lake or bonfires in their back garden, but once they found out you could play the pan flute you were as good as one of them.

Lucy Gray began to consume your every waking thought. Lucy Gray, Lucy Gray, Lucy Gray. It’s been the same old for a good few years now. You spend every moment you can with her, whether that’s taming snakes or catching butterflies or whispering to each other late at night. She’s hardened like brandy and fiery inside, and you preen hopelessly under the light she casts on you. Lucy Gray Baird is what makes the world go round.

Yeah, she’s the sweetest girl you know. And, unbeknownst to you, she’s sweeter than ever on you.

The Covey are a superstitious people. There’s nothing they’ll heed more attentively than the whisper of fate. Lucy Gray doesn’t remember much from her childhood pre-Twelve, but she remembers when her momma would try to teach her how to see future in the way that the earth breathed. She knows to pay heed to the shape that the tea leaves at the bottom of her mug take, and where the first drop of rain falls. Everything, everything, including her heart, pushes her to you. She’s sure of it. It’s something bigger than her that connects the two of you, something cosmic, something holy. She’ll count bluebells on her walk to you — she loves me, she loves me not — and take note of the birds in the sky. She spells out love confessions to you in the chords of her guitar. She whispers poems into your morning tea before she brings it to you, careful hands cradling a mug full of love.

She knows it’s the string of fate that’s drawn her in to you. Why, why else would her family end up in Twelve?

Barb Azure teases her endlessly for the affections she harbours, and Lucy Gray will swat away her cousin with flaming cheeks and hiss half-baked threats but she’ll never deny it. There’s no denying it. There’s no denying the love she has for you, more certain than anything. She knows she loves you like she knows that the sun smiles in the sky. She’ll do anything to be around you.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Barb Azure asks her casually one warm summer’s evening. The two are side by side in the little stone kitchen of the Covey cottage, occasionally brushing elbows as they chop vegetables in unison. It’s a comforting touch, domestic, homely. Golden-pink sun streams in through the mottled windows, and Lucy Gray basks in it like a snake. The back door is pinned open so that the children, and the strange shaggy dog Clerk Carmine’s brought home, and Maude Ivory’s goat can all trot in and out as they please. In the distance, she can see you all playing, wrestling, giggling freely, hear CC’s shrieking melodious laughter. Lucy Gray’s so at peace in this moment that she forgets she’s been asked a question.

Barb Azure’s bare foot nudges her shin gently. “Lu. What’ll you do? ‘Bout her?”

She shrugs. “Same thing I’ve always done. Keep on loving her, and take what I can get.” She seems perfectly at peace with it, and Barb Azure sighs.

“You’ll get a whole lot more if you tell her how you feel,” she chastises.

“Why, and ruin a perfectly good thing?” Lucy Gray retorts, elusive, half-mirthful, a twinkle in her eye but a weight to her words. “No, I don’t think I will, Barb Azure.”

“Aw, hold your tongue now,” Barb Azure grumbles, “cause it’ll be this old dog who’s wipin’ your tears when the belle finds someone else.” She nudges Lucy Gray good-naturedly before moving over to the stove, but Lucy Gray stays frozen, blood running cold. She hasn’t even thought of that, but it’s true, you could find someone else. Who, she wonders? What kind of person would you go for? You’ve been one of the Covey for years, you eat here and sleep here and make music with them and the rest of it, and you don’t really talk to anyone else. Would you go for one of the boys? Tam Amber, or Billy Taupe? The thought of anyone else all up on you like that makes her shiver. She can live with never being able to have you, she’s done it this far, but she’s not sure she’d handle it if someone else could.

The thought weighs heavy on her mind, and she’s quiet for the rest of the night.

It’s only a handful of days after that you’re out gathering berries with some of the others. Lucy Gray comes with for a while, but she’s not really there, she’s not herself, and after finding a few wild apricots she feebly murmurs about going home to pit them. You watch with concern but she’s gone before you can say otherwise, walking off with her head lowered, and you decide to respect her wish to be alone.

You try to ignore the loss of her at your side as you laugh and joke with the others. You never feel content when you’re not with her, though — she’s the only one who can soothe your temples and still your thoughts.

“You okay, Y/N? You been starin’ at that bush for the better part o’ four minutes,” grins Tam Amber.

“Nay, she’s just mopin’. Gets all moony when she’s away from her Lu,” CC butts in, before tossing a blackberry into the air and catching it in his mouth.

“My Lu?” you ask, caught off guard.

“Well, yeah. So much pinin’ you could build your own forest.”

“I ain’t— I don’t pine for no one,” you tell him shakily.

He just shrugs. “Coulda fooled me. You been lookin at Lucy Gray like she hung the stars in the sky since day one.”

You frown, mulling his words over. Is that true? You love Lucy Gray, more than anything, but it’s never really occurred to you that your love for her could be like that. Sure, she’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever met, you’d do anything for her. She’s so kind, so gentle and sweet, but she’s so quick and so fiery. She has a fierce wit to her that’ll send you rolling and reeling in equal measures. She’s always, always on your mind. Sure, your mind goes straight to her when you hear a love song, but— oh no.

“I think you broke her,” Billy Taupe observes.

“I’m, uhm,” you feel your palms grow clammy as you’re overwhelmed with the need for a moment to yourself, “I’ll head back home, and— and start sorting through this,” you look down at your half-filled basket and begin to hurry away. No one stops you, but you feel eyes on you long after you’ve rounded the corner.

You’re a mess. Your hands are shaking, your eyes blurry, your mind spinning as you grapple with this newfound information. You’re in love with Lucy Gray. It’s so obvious that the kids have clocked it before you. God, you’re so stupid. Of course friends don’t love each other like this. You don’t feel this way about Barb Azure or Tam Amber. This could ruin everything, if you ever let it escape you. No, you determine resolutely, you are not going to ruin the only family you’ve ever had. Having Lucy Gray in your life at all is something so impossibly holy that you refuse point blank to risk ever losing it. You will not lose the Covey. You’ll take this to the grave.

Your feet have carried you home before you know it, and you stumble into the kitchen, panting. There are tears streaming down your face, you realise, and you shakily wipe them away only for more to appear.

“Y/N?” says a soft voice at the door, one you love more than anything, and you look up to see the girl you’re agonising about. Annoyingly, you want nothing more than to crawl into her arms. “Hey, baby, you okay?”

“M’fine,” you murmur, hastily brushing away more tears, but she’s stepping towards you with outstretched arms, and then you’re in them and you’re safe.

“Shhh, sh sh sh,” she soothes you, guiding you into the room you share with her, running her fingers through your hair. “What is it, sweet girl, what’s bothering you?”

“It really is stupid,” you tell her thickly. “CC said something, I guess it freaked me out, ‘n got to me a bit.”

Lucy Gray lets out a surprised little laugh and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. “And why’re you givin’ a shit about what he’s got to say, huh? Clerk Carmine’s a twelve year old boy. Can’t get more insensitive than that.”

You nod tearfully, gratefully accepting the comfort of her pressing her forehead to yours and toying with your fingers.

“What’s he said to get you all wound up, baby?” she asks you. You hesitate, reddening, and look away.

“Really was stupid,” you mumble.

“You can tell me,” she promises, eyes dark and soft. You bite your lip.

“Just… that I treat you different to the others, I guess,” you admit, words flowing like butter. She could get anything out of you. Lucy Gray stiffens a little in surprise. “Or like, I love you different.”

“Yeah? How’d you mean?” Her words are soft, gentle, and you feel no less soothed than before. Cautiously, you continue.

“He… said I’m pinin’ for you,” you confess, mere minutes after swearing to yourself those words would never reach her ears.

“And are you?”

You stop up short at the bluntness of her question. Her gaze is unreadable, and you inwardly curse her poker face. “I— uhm, what?”

“Are you pinin’ for me?” Lucy Gray repeats.

“I…” You lamely gape like a fish. “I mean, I guess, I don’t know.”

“If I kissed you, d’you think that’d be something you could enjoy?” she asks you. Her tone’s shifted into something different now, and you can’t quite identify it but it has liquid heat pooling in your stomach. Your breath is caught in your throat, you’re scared to make a sound and break this moment, and so you nod wordlessly.

Her hands meet at the nape of your neck and toy with the hairs there as she slowly brings her lips to yours.

Lucy Gray Baird is soft when she kisses you, gentle. She kind of cradles you, her touch delicate, the way she is with her snakes or that fawn she nursed once — as though you might startle at any moment. You don’t know whether to close your eyes and savor the moment or keep them open and commit her to memory forever. You’re utterly beside yourself.

The kiss doesn’t last too long, she keeps it short and sweet, pecking your lips one final time before resting her forehead against yours contentedly.

“You okay, baby?” she asks after a moment, feeling you shaking against her. She leans back to get a better read on you and her brow furrows at your distress. “Sweet girl, I— did I overstep? Oh god, I’m so sorry, I —”

“No,” you manage to choke out. “No, it’s good, I just— this is a lot— I think I’ve loved you forever.”

Lucy Gray melts at that, pulling you in close and letting you rest your head against her chest, soothing her fingers through your hair. “Shhh, sh, it’s okay. Let it out, baby. You know, I always felt like there’s a reason the Covey was brought to Twelve,” she tells you. “I’m so sure it’s always fate, you know? And my momma was too. I always wondered what it was, I’d feel whispers of things at the edges of towns, I spent so long lookin’ for signs I’d never find. And then you brought one to me, you brought me flowers and ribbons and handfuls of love… and then I wasn’t looking for signs anymore. I was seein’ em everywhere I went, and you was bringin’ em to me every Sunday. And it was the holiest thing I ever felt.”

“You’re everything,” you manage, breathless. “I’m not— I’m no bard like you, Lu— you’re everything.”

“I love you,” she tells you, the intensity of her dark gaze setting you alight, “I love you sure as there’s stars in the sky.”

You lie in Lucy Gray’s arms long into the night, and she holds you, whispering to you how much she loves you. When morning comes, you know the stars will still be there, even if they can’t be found. And you know that when she rolls out of bed later than usual on Sunday, her day of rest, and you bring her flowers and ribbons held together with love, she’ll beam brighter than anything and you’ll have a sky full of stars in your arms.

[midastouch013]

Remembering Him

Summary: Today's the annivessary of Pietro's death, and your there for your girlfriend

Warnings: Mentions of character death. Talking of losing a loved one. Sad Wanda

----

The morning sun cast a gentle glow over the Avengers compound, but for Wanda Maximoff, the day felt heavy with sorrow. It marked the anniversary of her brother Pietro's death, a wound that never truly healed. As Wanda sat alone in the quiet living room, memories of their time together flooded her mind.

You, her girlfriend, entered the room with a soft smile, holding a cup of coffee for her. Wanda glanced up, her eyes reflecting both gratitude and pain. You placed the coffee on the coffee table and took a seat beside her.

"Hey, love," you whispered, taking a seat beside her. reaching for her hand. Wanda managed a small smile but remained distant. You knew that today was especially difficult for her.

"I thought we could spend today celebrating Pietro's life," you suggested. "Doing things he loved, and maybe sharing some of the stories you've told me about him."

Wanda nodded, "I'll try," she said softly, allowing you to guide her through the day.

Starting with music, you encouraged her to play some of Pietro's favorite tunes. As the melodies filled the room, your hands around her waist, as her hands wrapped around your shoulder, swaying softly to the music. Wanda began to share stories, and a bittersweet smile crossed her face.

"I remember a night in Sokovia," she began, her voice soft. "There was a street musician playing a beautiful, slow song on the accordion. Pietro, being Pietro, took my hand and said, 'Let's dance, sis.' So, there we were, twirling under the moonlight, lost in the music and each other."

A warmth filled the room as you envisioned the scene – Wanda and Pietro, sharing a dance in the quiet streets of Sokovia. "That sounds incredibly special," you remarked.

"It was, and then, right after" she spoke, her voice carrying a hint of laughter. " The man began playing a fast-paced song and Pietro, being Pietro, decided we should dance to that too. So, there we were, dancing in the square, drawing a small crowd. It was so spontaneous and silly, but for a moment, everything felt perfect."

You chuckled, "Sounds like he had a talent for turning ordinary moments into extraordinary memories."

Wanda nodded, her eyes distant yet alive with the memories. "Exactly. He had a way of making life an adventure."

--

The day unfolded with shared stories and activities, each one honoring Pietro's passions. When you moved to the kitchen to attempt one of his favorite dishes, Wanda's laughter filled the air, seeing how you made the same mistakes that he would.

As you neared the end of the day, Wanda and you found yourselves on the rooftop, beneath a sky sprinkled with stars—the same stars Pietro once marveled at during quiet nights.

You both lay on a blanket, shoulders touching, staring up at the vast expanse above. The day had been filled with shared memories, laughter, and a dance that echoed the bond between siblings. Yet, as the night deepened, a subtle melancholy began to seep into the air.

"We used to lay on rooftops," Wanda said softly, her gaze fixed on the twinkling stars. "He loved stargazing. Said it made him feel connected to something greater."

You nodded, squeezing her hand in acknowledgment. The quiet conversation continued, sharing stories of nights spent under the open sky in Sokovia, where Pietro would point out constellations with infectious enthusiasm.

"I miss him so much," Wanda admitted, her voice trembling with vulnerability. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

You pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her tears fall without reservation. "It's okay, Wands," you whispered, holding her close. " You can cry, its okay"

Wanda clung to you, allowing herself to release the pent-up emotions she had held back for so long. The weight of loss, the ache of missing her brother, poured out in quiet sobs.

After a while, the tears subsided, leaving behind a sense of catharsis. Wanda pulled away, her eyes red but filled with a newfound lightness. You wiped away the remaining tears and gave her a tender smile.

"Thank you for being here," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude.

"Always, love," you assured her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

As the day came to an end, you both sat under the evening sky, surrounded by the echoes of laughter and tears, celebrating the life of a brother who would forever live on in memories and the love he left behind. You'd never met him before, but you were sure that you would have loved him if he were there

----

I'm short of ideas, someone help me.

—----------

[ryo-maybe]

Ryo, we must save the Blue Archives

THIS SUMMER

*A jaunty little tune, accordion and mandolin singing together in lively unison, accompanies the camera as it pans across a sunny Mediterranean cityscape and through a window. Fading transition to a shot of tomato sauce being stirred inside an open rice cooker with a baguette. The camera follows the baguette as a French-Italian man uses it to taste the sauce and smiles, satisfied.*

"Ryo, we must save the Blue Archives!"

A YOUNG MAN'S NORMAL LIFE TAKES AN UNEXPECTED TURN

*A wall explodes in a deluge of debris and fog, the music turning into some trite Two Steps From Hell bullshit. The camera zooms in from a low angle as a buff Southern Asian man emerges and strikes that one pose Dwayne Johnson makes all the time, you know the one.*

THE TRUTH REVEALED, HE SHALL SUSPEND HIS DISBELIEF... OR DIE!

*Several phone screens are shown in rapid sequence, a finger flicking frantically through pictures of young anime women endowed with plentiful bosoms, all dressed in a variety of differently designed high school uniforms.*

"The data doesn't lie. The average Blue Archive girl's breast size is indirectly proportional to her age."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"Don't you get it, Ryo? They're highschoolers. All of them."

"No way. Not Asuna. Come on."

*Sal meets Ryo's eyes. His gaze is mirthless, his voice grave, his pecs rock-hard.*

"Asuna. Karin. Hanako. All of them. All of them..."

DIVIDED BY FATE AND BLOOD.

*The camera pans around a skyscraper's windswept rooftop. A teary-eyed Ryo and an enraged Sal, bruised and battered, their clothes a torn mess, are respectively pointing a wooden spoon and a tablet pen at each other.*

"I refuse to see it!"

"You can't just pretend they're not kids, Ryo!"

"Can you pretend I'm not French, Sal!?"

*Sal gasps*

UNITED BY PURPOSE AND SWEAT.

*Slowmo montage of Ryo and Sal laughing as they toss flour at each other in a kitchen, jog at the beach, hit each other with joypads while playing Mario Party. Ryo is shown lifting a 5kg dumbbell with great effort. The camera immediately pans down to show he's sitting on the 80kg barbell Sal is lifting.*

TRANSCENDING HISTORY AND THE WORLD, A TALE OF GAMBLING AND ART, ETERNALLY UNTOLD

*The music reaches the zenith of its crescendo, accompanying a montage of several scenes: Ryo frantically typing on his keyboard in front of a screen showcasing a Fandom Wikia; Sal slamming a Jalter dakimakura into a display case full of FGO figures; Ryo and Sal falling through a swirling vortex of AI-generated art.*

THE LINE BETWEEN ART AND CONTEXT SHALL BE DRAWN IN BLOOD

*Ryo and Sal standing back to back, surrounded by a horde of Arataki Itto cosplayers.*

"I never thought I'd destroy a mobage side by side with a French..."

"What about side by side with an Italian?"

"Heh... aye, I could do that."

SUPER GACHA BROS - FRAGMENTS OF BLUE AND ARCHIVE

*The screen turns black, lingering for a few seconds until, preceded by an activation noise, a silhouette appears from the darkness, backlit by blue light.*

"Excuse me for.. dropping in."

ONLY IN THEATERS

[mikrokosmos]

Fendrix - Soundtrack for the film Poor Things (2023)

I've probably said this before but I usually don't post film music on this blog. Mainly because it's questionable how much a score for a film could be considered "classical" or of the classical tradition. On the one hand, the kinds of genre and styles used for films, and the specific function of the music as accentuating or being part of the overall finished work of the film makes it out to be its own unique genre. On the other hand, classical composers in history have written incidental music for stage plays as well as scores for films, from early / classic film scores by Saint-Saëns or Prokofiev or later in the century by Takemitsu or Glass and going through to today. Regardless I had heard this music before seeing the film Poor Things and was immediately taken in. I loved it so much that I was disappointed that it did not win the Oscar for best film score this weekend (though I won't complain much because the winning score by Ludwig Göransson for Christopher Nolan's Oppenheimer was evocative and intense so it was worthy of the award and praise). Still I have a soft spot for Jerskin Fendrix's imaginative and otherworldly music fitting for the equally "otherworldly" and fantastical atmosphere that the world of Poor Things tries to evoke. Yorgos Lanthimos is one of my favorite living directors and I was excited to see this film, even moreso after hearing the score. While I love the exuberant style, unique cinematography, and the dreamlike images, I will admit I was somewhat disappointed by the film overall (I didn't love it as much as I did his 2018 film The Favourite), and am still uneasy and disturbed by the subject matter and implications of an infant/prepubescent mind developing in the body of an adult woman, and all of the uncomfortable sex scenes and conversations as the film goes along. Still, I do love this score as a stand-alone album. Bella's theme is awkward, slightly out of tune and discordant, conveying the kind of naivety, curiosity, and somewhat self consciousness of being a "child" trying to understand the world they live in. The score continues with keyboard textures, detuned harps and winds, scratchy violins, vocalized oos and ahs, creating a lot of artificial and even alien sounds that disorients the listener in the same way that the wide lenses and porthole shots disorient the viewer. And later in the film (mild spoiler alert) when "Bella's" "real husband" arrives, we are made to feel sick and unsettled by the low frequency pulsing that makes us dread his arrival. A lot of textures and harmonies are unexpected in ways that make me wish Stravinsky were still alive so he could hear and share his thoughts. I especially thought of Stravinsky with my personal favorite track, "Portuguese Dance II", with violent and punchy, comically disturbed accordion chords that open into a catchy dance tune which may as well have come from one of his ballets. This same music gets its own awkward dance scene (another Lanthimos trademark) with Emma Stone's Bella and Mark Ruffalo's despicable Duncan. Again this is a bit different from my usual posts but regardless I hope you can enjoy the bizarre and wonderful soundworld that Fendrix created for this film.

[creativegirl247]

Break from art posts for a thing about instrument headcanons(+some canon) for the mercs!

Scout plays the bongos in his spare time. He plays it in the Runner's Rythm taunt, although idk if it's a canon taunt.

Demoman can canonically play the piano, as seen in Expiration Date, but it's unclear how well. I headcanon that he can also play the bagpipes because of his Scottish origin.

Soldier is seen playing a trombone in the Fubar Fanfare taunt, but I headcanon that he can play the trumpet, idk how well tho.

Medic is seen playing the accordion in the Surgeon's Squeezebox taunt, but I imagine him playing the violin, and he's pretty talented at it.

Sniper canonically play the sax and is seen playing it in Expiration Date and in the Killer Solo taunt, but upon further research, he plays the didgeridoo in the Didgeridrongo taunt, but I can't really see him playing it.

Engineer is literally playing the guitar throughout Meet the Engineer. The instrument appears in the Guitar Smash taunt, electric guitar in the Shred Alert taunt, and plays a little guitar tune in an unused taunt without a name. Notably, he also plays the banjo in the Dueling Banjo taunt.

Heavy doesn't seem like the type to play an instrument. His hands are really big and would probably struggle with precise playing. In terms of canon taunts, he doesn't play anything, and the Bolshevik Ballad isn't in the game.

Spy may or may not play the piano. I've seen him depicted singing, but with a guy who smokes that often probably doesn't sound great.

Pyro... Oh, Pyro. I've seen him depicted playing the piano as well, whether it be a grand on or a child's toy, but I want to note that the Rainblower looks a lot like a brass instrument, maybe hinting at something. No headcanon here, I don't know if he would actually play anything.

I hope you enjoyed my little insight. I've been wanting to do this for a while 💀

[fizzyginfizz]

Star

For @hinnymicrofic - Prompt 28 - Star - Post-DH

“Muggles have a saying: when you wish upon a star, your dreams come true.”

Harry’s hushed words hung in the sticky twilight of summer. Unseen crickets began their nightly tune-up, rubbing their wings first with tentative chirps, crescendoing as their mates joined the evening concert.

“Their dreams come true?” Ginny tossed Harry an over-the-shoulder smirk as they lay on their backs, staring up at the indigo sky. “That’s all it takes? See a star, make a wish, your dream comes true?”

“That’s what they say.”

Bruises long faded; wounds slow to heal. Humor was their balm, their bandage, their potion. Ginny’s role was to dose it out in manageable portions, a shot of cherry-flavored fizz to chase away bitter memories.

“You were in my last dream,” Ginny teased, nudging Harry with her shoulder.

“Oh?” Eyebrows lifting, Harry rolled on his side to face her, propping himself up on one elbow. “Good dream?”

Gotcha.

“Don’t look so excited,” Ginny tsked. “You were sitting at the good common room table- “

“The small one by the fireplace?”

“No, the big one by the window. You needed the big one, because you were teaching your Patronus to play Exploding Snap. That stag was uninterested. He was tossing popcorn strings on his antlers.”

“Like a Christmas tree?” Harry grinned.

“Yes, except it wasn’t Christmas because Ron was there wearing his awful Cannons swim trunks. He was going through a barrel of pygmy puffs, fishing out all the blue ones to toss over his shoulder to Hermione, who was juggling them five at a time."

“Fascinating. Lots to unpack here. Should have paid more attention in Divination.”

“She said juggling Pygmy Puffs was effective preparation for her Gobstones OWL. There was also a flamingo playing the accordion.”

Harry chuckled. “And where were you in this dream?”

A quick quip formed on her tongue, poised to accompany a wink and a smirk, dressing lies to masquerade as wit. Crafting a joke to keep them washed in sunshine silliness, proving they were alive, whole, resilient, undefeated.

“I was- “

The quip turned sour. Cherry-flavored fizz gone flat.

She tried to make truth as bubbly, but the truth was still.

“I was searching for something.”

Her words, whisper soft, settled between them. Ginny wished she could snatch them back, those words of twilight. Half afraid he would ask for more, half afraid he wouldn’t.

He had never asked for her truths. Truth was uncomfortable, it didn’t sparkle or tickle one’s nose. What was she to him, if not his greatest comfort? His light, his distraction, his, his, his… his since she was ten years old, orbiting him like a planet around a star.

But his voice was also whisper still, next to inaudible beneath the symphony of crickets. “What were you searching for?”

“That’s the thing,” Ginny said, her brows drawing together, as she kept her gaze up at the darkening sky. “I don’t always know. But I know it’s vital, something I need to find before I can move on. And it’s like it’s something I should already have in my hand, like my wand, or something stupid like my left sock. The more I search, the more it feels as if I’m in slow motion. Then when I wake up, not only didn’t I find it, I have no idea what was missing in the first place.”

Tiny pinpoints of light emerged one-by-one as the indigo sky deepened to navy.

Ginny risked a glance. “Do you ever have dreams like that?”

Beneath a sky of winking stars, the corner of his mouth curled into the gentlest, most patient smile she had ever seen. “Not anymore.”

His hand brushed her hair away from her cheek, lingering.

Then he pointed up, at the brightest star. “That one looks promising. You should wish on that one. Find what you’re looking for.”

Then, something in Harry’s eyes twinkled, like the stars above them.

Heavens shifted; orbits realigned.

“Also, a flamingo playing the accordion?” he quipped. “The world needs your dreams to come true.”

With one dose of cherry-flavored fizz, Harry became her sunshine. Or maybe her starlight. Glimmering in the inky darkness, steady, fixed in the night sky.

She laughed, full-throated, glorious. “I haven’t even told you about Flitwick and Hagrid’s tango.”

He reached over, pulled her onto his chest. She closed her eyes, the sure, steady thump of his heartbeat beneath her ear. “How did they manage that?”

Ginny opened one eye, “Stilts.”

“Did Hagrid have a rose in his teeth? Please tell me he had a rose in his teeth.”

Ginny peeked up at the brightest star above and made her wish.

[luxlightly]

A song I imagine a very specific Gabv1el scene with. At a junkyard. Ignore any impossibilities and inaccuracies with the feasibility of this song being played by only two people. They're an angel and a blood robot they can do whatever they want. _

"Ah! A piano! And in good condition! How surprising. Certainly not in tune, but otherwise remarkably intact." V1 mimed playing, then pointed at Gabriel with a head tilt. "Yes, I play. I play a variety of instruments. I'm probably best known for my horn --hush-- but you've seen yourself I'm also quiet adept on the organ --hush-- as well as the harp, the lyre, basically all percussion. It's a little difficult trying to play a wind instrument with the helmet but, besides that, I'm at least proficient with all human instruments."

Gabriel tapped out a few notes. "Oof. Definitely needs to be tuned." V1 pointed at the piano and then to Gabriel, excitedly. "Hm? You'd like me to play something?" V1 pointed between itself and Gabriel. "You'd like us both to play something? You play?" Gabriel asked, baffled. V1 pointed at the piano again and shook it's head. "Not the piano. Something else?" A nod. V1 then held up a single finger, indicating to wait, then ran off into the junkyard. Gabriel carefully opened the back of the piano. A few missing hammer pads but nothing he couldn't fix. Between that and tuning it, it would give V1 time to find whatever it was looking for. He wondered what kind of instrument a Machine could play. -- "...So...it seems as though you've found some springs, a cash register, an old typewriter and...I think that might have been an accordion at some point? A sword--wait that's my sword! Give that back!" V1 clutched Justice to its chest, shaking its head. Gabriel huffed. "I gotta be honest, aside from my sword this...looks like a lot of random trash. Um...Machine, do you...know what a instrument is?" V1 glared, nodding. "Alright! Alright!" Gabriel said, holding up his hands, placatingly. He sat down at the piano, putting his fingers to the keys. "Well, I guess I'll start out with a melody and you can join in on your...trash...whenever you feel the spirit move you. Or, you know, whatever. He went for something upbeat. Bouncy and complicated enough to keep it interesting for his practiced fingers but with plenty of room for accompaniment. V1 perked up in apparent surprise. "Don't look so shocked!" Gabriel laughed. "I can play more than hymns and classical pieces, you know." After a few bars, having seemed to get a good enough idea of the tune, the Machine joined in. Gabriel let out a small, delighted gasp. Using all of it's 4 arms, as well as one of its feet, V1 slid metal against metal, sprung springs, pressed keys, and swung Justice in a strange, delightful cacophony of percussion that mixed beautifully with the melody. Gabriel laughed and leaned more into his playing. With each layer of complexity he added, the Machine followed in turn, using its foot to operate the bellows of the accordion while its arms continued their whimsical percussion. In perfect synchrony, they pushed forward, then backed away, built up, then leaned off. So incredibly different than the practiced, perfect hymns of heaven. And so much more fun. By the time he bang out the last few chords, Gabriel was practically out of breath. "I stand woefully and wholly corrected," he said, with a laugh. "You play beautifully. My apologies for ever doubting it." V1 bowed, exaggeratedly. "We'll have to play together again, sometime." V1 nodded, giving 4 thumbs up. "Now give me back my sword."

[bahbahhh]

fic masterlist

currents the true story of mipha's grace. NPC POV (Mipha) | BotW | multichapter | rated T | incomplete - on hiatus

A thematic successor to "desire path" and "thank you for listening" in which we are getting zelink from a NPC POV as well as a metaphor through nature. I wanted to give Mipha some love because I often seen (and have done this myself) her placed in a negative or shallow light with respect to Link and Zelda's relationship in botw. I also believe deeply you can love someone completely and not be meant for each other and that is okay. Follows Mipha's diary entries/Champions' Ballad.

begin again - also posted on tumblr A story for @zelinkcommunity zelink week 2023 set between BotW and Totk. A stab at explaining lots of the changes seen in TotK, specifically what happens to the Sheikah Technology. Zelda POV | pre -TotK | multichapter | rated T | complete!

The Calamity is gone. The remaining leaders of Hyrule gather for a Summit to determine the future of the kingdom, starting with how to repurpose all the Sheikah Technology. Zelda is among them, and while everyone still calls her Princess, she’s not sure she wants to lay claim to an old throne. What she really wants is to move on. She wants to continue her research, to prove her worth beyond her bloodline, and to spend as much time with Link as she can…which sounds an awful lot like what she wanted a hundred years ago…

desire path for @zelinktines24 2023 for the prompt “Oh no” NPC POV (Impa) | pre-BotW | rated G | oneshot - complete!

Impa is given a secret assignment from the King just before she is to escort Zelda and Link back to Kakariko Village for the festival of Sahasra’s Pass: make sure their arrangement is not creating “unnecessary distractions.” It seems silly for the King to be so concerned about such an implausible matter. Anyone with two eyes can see they clearly despise each other. Impa forgets she has three.

✨ amazing fanart from @marimbles

✨amazing fanart from @pitchblackespresso like someone would for @zelinkcommunity Zelink week 2022 for the prompt "statue" A love letter to side quests. Link POV | BotW | rated M | multichapter | complete!

Her voice is the string of reassurances and warnings whispered in his ear from the moment he opened his eyes. She calls out for your help. So he goes, underprepared and overconfident, in the opposite direction of Kakariko Village because a hundred years is long enough and a princess needs his help and he was someone once. (Or, Link realizes destiny is awfully hard thing to shake.)

thank you for listening NPC POV (Kass) | post BotW |rated G | short and sweet | complete!

The ancient songs collected, his teacher’s last ballad complete, and still Kass can’t help but miss the thrill of the strange Hylian’s company.  With his ever patient ear, often turned deliberately toward the accordion with his eyes closed, it was like the melody was more than just a pleasant tune. Like Kass was offering a prayer and Link was waiting for an answer.

windows for @zelinkcommunity opposites attract community event. In collaboration with @aheavenscorner who made this AMAZING artwork. ✨ Link and Zelda POV | post BotW | rated T | oneshot- complete!

Twelve years after the events of Tears of the Kingdom, the Master Sword tells Link it is finally time to put it back.

The Killing Moon BotW 1.5 before we got TotK so it's one giant guessing game leading up to what we see in the trailers. Also features my guess at the title, which I'll pat myself on the back, was pretty damn close. Heavy angst, deep dive into PTSD/trauma* Link POV | BotW 1.5 | rated E | multichapter | complete!

She asks if he remembers her. He doesn’t answer. There is quiet longing between them in moments when they are alone that Link still cannot place. He thinks he needs time but Hyrule won’t grant them peace. Especially not when there is a kingdom to rebuild and the Blood Moon still rises. But Link doesn’t want to rebuild, he just wants-

✨author's notes

all I can think about is The best comment I’ve got of this fic remains “Sexy yet depressing?” Zelda POV| pre-totk | rated E NSFW* | must have ao3 to read | oneshot- complete!

drabbles and other smaller one shots

distraction and the distracted Link POV | pre-botw| zelinkweek 2022 | oneshot- complete! almost beautiful Link POV | pre-botw| zelinkweek 2022 | oneshot- complete! Kass and his daughters   NPC POV | post- botw| tumblr drabble | oneshot- complete! Zelda illness Zelda POV | post- botw| tumblr drabble | oneshot- complete! Angsty Paya NPC POV | botw| tumblr drabble | oneshot- complete! Terrako catches Link and Zelda Link POV | AoC | tumblr drabble | oneshot- complete! OoT Zelink written for @zeldaelmo for her fic Someone I Used To Know Zelda POV | OoT older | tumblr drabble | oneshot- complete! Patricia POV NPC POV- Patricia the Sand Seal | botw| tumblr drabble | oneshot- complete!

[last updated 11/1/2023]

[local-hyena]

Rhythm Thief is a game published by sega in 2012. It's a rhythm game that follows the thief Raphael, also known as Phantom R. Raphael's goal is to find his father, but he gets tangled up in a bigger mystery : anime Napoléon came back from the dead as a Zombie to become an emperor once again. As a french person, this plot in impossibly funny.

All in all, this game is awesome ! I really l'île the character designs, they are simple but efficient. The characters all have different personalities, my favorite being Charlie. Though, I could easily find a bunch of cons to this game : I feel like the characters could be deeper. The story is okay, it does its job as being a video game's red string for the different rhythm minigames.

Speaking of rhythm minigames ! They are very fun. They become more difficult with time, and some of them are really difficult (the one in which you control Charlie with the console's gyroscope was the WORST). With rhythm comes music. Rhythm Thief's music is really cool ! Very jazzy, exactly the typical-french-accordion type of tune, you know ? As the game takes place in Paris, the city is intensely romanticized. However, the mysic used during rhythm minigames are a bit... lacking ? Don't get me wrong, some of them are great ! Some of my favorites are the one in which you shoot at knights while controlling Vergier and the final battle against Graf, as well as the first stealth rhythm minigame. But qome lf them are just rhythm, not actual music, you know ? There are also a handful of sound-based puzzles, which are fairly easy, but I'm not complaining. I'm currently playing a Professor Layton game and I am clearly not clever enough for that.

Another thing that bugs me : thourough the game you will find hidden objects. Once you finish the game, there are three additionnal chapters yoi can unlock by finding all those collectibles (I don't know the english terminology for this game) : sounds and hidden partitions, and another chapter you unlock after getting an A score for ALL rhythm minigames. The problem is : sometimes, you can access a location only once in the game, and some of these hidden objects are in these one-time locations. So if you miss one you will have to start all over again. I just finished the game earlier, so I don't know if I missed collectibles in those areas, I still have to check. Getting all A scores will be a pain in the asssss uurggggg.

ALSO THE ENDING. SKIP THIS PARAGRAPH IF YOU DON'T WANT SPOILERS. WHAT DO YOU MEAN NAPOLEON WAS NOT THE ACTUAL NAPOLEON ? WHAT DO YOU MEAN RAPHAEL'S FATHER IS STILL WITH THE REAL ACTUAL ZOMBIE NAPOLEON WAITING FOR HIM TO BECOME STRONG ENOUGH ?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE LAST QUOTE OF THE GAME IS "I WILL GET THE PLAN TO NEXT PHASE" ??? WAS THERE SUPPOSED TO BE A SEQUEL ??? WILL THERE BE ANSWERS IN THE ADDITIONNAL CHAPTERS ??? WHAT THE FUCK ????

Also there is a dog. His name is Fondue. This is a very important piece of information.

The game also features fully-animated cutscenes, which actually look great !

In conclusion, Rhythm Thief and the Emperor's Treasure was an awesome game ! It is great for all fans of rhythm game, but it also features elements of visual novels and puzzles. In my opinion, it has a general vibe similar to Professor Layton, Ace Attorney and Doctor Lautrec (though I haven't played this one yet...), so check these games out too !

[fleetways]

killability ranking of all of eggmans lackeys from least to most killable. killability is based on how much i wish to kill them not actually how easy they are to kill. Metal sonic and sage do not count and they would be at the top anyways even if they were.

1. Agent Stone.

Objectively the best of all of eggman’s lackeys and the only simp that eggman gives any semblance of a shit about. For this alone he already wins, but I also like every scene he’s in so I would not want to kill him anyways.

2. Decoe Bocoe and Bokkun.

Bokkun carries in this bracket. He’s cute and I like him. Decoe and Bocoe are the OG orbot and cubot so they get gay robot points, but otherwise I never consider their existence.

3. Orbot and Cubot.

The sole reason I am wholly against the “eggman is the father of his robots” shit I keep seeing around. These robots are gay lovers and I don’t care what anyone says. Generally I do not wish to kill them however they can be annoying as fuck and are staples of an era of sonic I’m actively trying to forget

4. Thunderbolt the Chinchilla.

I never read the issues with her in them but I like her solely for being one of the rare female sonic charactes without the don bluth- style feminine hips and chest. We also generally need more sonic characters that are just ball-shaped. Sadly she is from Archie which ups her killability for me but that also means she is already dead so I’m not sure where that leaves us.

5. Scratch and Grounder.

This is where we start getting into the really killable freaks . Scratch and Grounder are annoying as fuck but they’re also hilarious in a way no other Robotnik lackey is. I wouldn’t even need to kill them they would just get into a rube goldberg style disaster full of slap-stick looney tunes comedy that ends with them falling into a hydraulic press and turning into accordions cue slide whistle background soundtrack.

6. Katella the Huntress.

Genuinely what the fuck was this episode. She’s not exactly a lackey but I felt compelled to add her to this list anyways. Kill.

7. Snivley.

I’ve never seen SatAM but every time i see this character I am filled with such rage and disdain. The killability was baked into this character’s design I’m sure of it. The writer’s intention was for him to be on this list. Kill.

8. Sleet and Dingo.

Now, I may be the biggest Sonic Underground defender of all time, but if anything that just makes me the most qualified voice in declaring these guys suck. Every minute of screen time they get makes me wanna die. A show known for its ugly designs and these guys are the ugliest. Would absolutely kill without question.

9. Dr. Starline.

You know what you did.

[azurlaneincorrectquotes]

Discussing Azur Lane Music, brought to you by someone who looks too deep into everything

I wanna start this odd with the Sardegna empire, as they're some of my favorite themes, and they have a lot of narrative depth in their music alone.

First of all, is the story theme of Empyreal Tragicomedy. It embodies many things about the Sardegna Empire. First of all, it sounds incredibly upbeat and splendorous, making you think of a beautiful place. However, it doesn't quite sound real, as if you're just hearing it through a radio. It feels like a lie, covering up the corrupt and dark nation that Sardegna really is underneath. The accordion that starts at about 5 seconds in is very important, so keep it in mind

The battle theme is where the mask starts to slip a bit. It starts filled with conflict and uncertainty, but switches to something a bit more glorious 9 seconds in. As if to say "we're in the right! You must believe in us!" The more righteous tones sound distant, however, as if to say they still aren't genuine. My favorite example is at 1:15, where you can hear the triumphant, yet somewhat mournful, cry of a horn under the heavier violin and percussion.

Now comes the boss theme, and why I wanted to make this post in the first place. It starts out with heavy percussion and strings, and at 8 seconds in, an accordion comes in. Remember when I said the accordion from the story theme was important? It's the same melody, just slipping in and out. As if the splendor is slipping away. After it fades out, we can hear the strings playing a truly mournful melody. At 30 seconds in, it becomes heavier, but gains an extra bit of energy to it. And, for a moment, a choral section can be heard. Finally, at 50 seconds in, the music drops. The accordion comes back, and the tune sounds brilliantly tragic. Since the event is based on the Taranto raid, I imagine Littorio looking at the ruins of her homeland, cursing her egotistical foolishness. But, it has a resolve behind it, as if it's hardened, and willing to fight to defend what's left.

[giddlygoat]

some of my thoughts on drawing, learning the accordion, and how they apply to each other.

i have been drawing my whole life. the last time i can remember feeling genuinely ashamed of my artistic skills was when i was probably 12. at some point i was able to look at my art and realize it wasn’t anywhere near perfect, and i became okay with that. nowadays, i have no anxiety about posting my art or leaving a piece with flaws, because i like my style and i’m comfortable enough in my skills and the knowledge that there will always be room for improvement to allow myself to simply enjoy what i create.

i have always been fascinated by the accordion. around age 11 i started considering learning to play it. by 13 i saw one at an antique store and seriously considering buying it for a long time, but did not. as the years go on i find that artistic burnout is becoming more of a frequent issue with me, and i often find myself desperately wishing i had a gratifying way of expressing myself other than drawing.

i’m always humming, and doing the mouth trumpet, and clicking and clapping out tunes all day. singing and scatting are some of my favorite pastimes. i can do all this but it’s not the same as playing an instrument. i feel like it can never quite extend past my fingertips; like i’m cranking out all this energy and excitement but it can’t go anywhere. it’s like not being able to get past the sketch when you have a whole painting inside you.

about three months ago, i finally picked up the accordion. i don’t know how to read music. my understanding of the technical side of music is pathetic, although i have a good natural sense for it, and now, a good teacher. i am scared.

i have all the usual beginner issues: my hands don’t know where to go, i’m not used to the weight of the instrument, and it feels alien in a way, just to name a few.

there’s another problem, too. i’m good at drawing.

everywhere i go, i see things i want to paint. i’m taking pictures of the pickled jalapeños and carrots at work because i want to study how they interact with the opaque black plastic container, all little dynamic shapes of green and orange swimming in vinegar. i’m watching a cat stretch and yawn on the concrete and lay down in a sunbeam that looks too heavenly to be real - it gives me an idea for a sketch.

i look at the arms of the man loading hay bales with me, and try to commit to memory how the muscles move under the skin, what foot he puts his weight on, how he wipes his forehead and shifts his weight. it makes me want to draw pages of people doing mundane things, studying how weight and action and stylization works together to create something satisfying and alive. i want to do the beauty of the universe justice.

when i open procreate to draw, i am not thinking of anything. my hands know where to go, i don’t even have to look at the buttons or tools to know what i’m doing, and all these complicated layers interacting with each other and their applied effects and backgrounds etc come like second nature to me now.

the first day i used procreate, i was so overwhelmed, i was afraid to touch anything.

the first day i held an accordion, it was the same.

my problem is that i know how to look at art and examine why techniques work or not, and i don’t quite have those skills when it comes to music. sure, i can slap beautiful harmony onto any song, but heck if i know what notes they are. i couldn’t tell you what key the song is in or what defines a measure.

and i realized that while now i am looking through this frosted glass trying to make out the basic shapes behind it, one day, i will be able to peel back the mystery and truly understand not only how this instrument functions, but how music flows, too. because i see art in everything. i understand the weight of people and objects and how they would interact in a cartoon. the colors of a blooming cactus in my yard become lemony saturated in the early light and pale and dusty in the late evening. i can see the line of action in characters and better understand the composition behind paintings, and why it works.

it’s my hope, that as time spent with my accordion goes on, i will start to see music in everything, too. there’s nothing i want more than to understand it and speak its language as i do with art. i want to someday pick up my accordion and make up a melody as i would sketch out a doodle. this is the kind of stuff i think about all day.