#Sing Time

[sunderwight]

Imagine you're Lan Xichen. You've spent the past decade+ worrying about your younger brother who, according to your own perspective on things, fell wildly in love with an evil heretic cultivator, kinda betrayed your sect for him, got punished within an inch of his life by your elders, and spent subsequent years in mourning when said evil heretic cultivator got killed.

You're starting to think that your brother is never going to get over this, is always going to be holding onto a certain amount of grief and anger and lonesome distance.

But then one day, he brings another guy home! And, yes, this guy is not perfect either. He's also a heretic cultivator and a notorious lunatic, who is in a bad position with your own situationship. But! Maybe Wangji is finally starting to move on? Even if his bad taste persists, this one is at least more manageable. How fortuitous that your stubborn, obsessive brother should finally find a new yeah no that's Wei Wuxian, isn't it?

It's just Wei Wuxian again.

[eats-a-berry]

i wasn't sure exactly what i thought adult gideon should be doing, but i DO quite like the triple combination of cowboy-biker, drag queen, and used car salesman at the same time. she's always a busy person!

[notherpuppet]

Huskerdust 💗💗💗💗

[muffinlance]

The feral cat gator of a 13 year old freshly scarred Zuko being forcibly adopted by the foggy swamp tribe! Bonus points if they willfully ignore the fact he's a firebender and treat him as a very strange waterbender bending-wise

It was Earth Kingdom ships that drove the metal one onto the reefs, so when the little thing came crawling up through the marsh spitting and hissing and dressed in red, they knew it weren’t no earthbender. No matter how much mud it had tripped in, trying to find where the ground stopped sucking at its feet.

“Wow-ee,” said Old Earl, “that sure is one way of keepin’ off the ‘squito-chiggers.”

And they all watched from Big Earl’s porch, sitting or rocking, as them bugs came for the all-you-can-eat and ended up on the bar-b-que.

“Sure is some weird bending,” said Little Earl, who was taller than Big Earl, but when they'd been twelve and they’d wrestled for the title it hadn't been Little Earl who’d won.

The little thing looked maybe twelve, too. And he was little little. But he had that same look like he was going to shove someone’s face in the mud until they said otherwise, as he stood there all panting and dripping and just realizing they’d been watching him this whole time.

“It’s firebending,” the one-kid mud-wrestler said, as bugs kept pop-snapping into flames around him.

Old Earl cupped a hand over his ear, like he couldn’t hear. And he kept doing it, while the kid got louder and louder about that bending of his, but quieter and quieter about looking at them like they were his next bugs.

“Oh, firebending,” Old Earl said, nodding like he’d only just got it, when the kid had stomped straight up to his chair. “Right, right, Old Jane’s got fire-water-bending, too. Why don’t you take him to her, boys.”

“It’s not-- ugh,” shouted the kid, but maybe he only had the one volume. Certainly only had the one volume for stomping, even though stomping was what got a fellow’s shoes shoved down so deep in the mud they’d be seeing them again as mole-shrimp hats. Not that the kid had shoes. Neither did Earl, Earl, or Earl. ‘Cept for Fancy Earl, but he’d gone off to Ba-Singing-Se, to be fancy.

Anyway, Old Jane was the best at turning anything and everything into fire water, which was the kind of thing a fellow called his or her liquor when they wanted fancy folk to keep right on walking. Was really good for making shouty little firebrands take their naps, too, which let Old Jane get her glowing mitts all over that fresh burn of his. And the love-bites from the shark-wrasses that had probably been half the reason the kid had come a-shore all a-shouting in the first place.

“Nope,” diagnosed Old Jane, when the kid woke back up. “That’s just how he talks. Mother was a screamer-bird, I’d say.”

“You take that back about my mother,” screamed their screamer-bird, who had pretty good hearing for someone who’s ear had lost the same fight as his eye. Anyway, Old Jane had done the best she could about both, and nothing was on fire that shouldn’t be, and she had that extra quilt she’d been working on that needed a body under it

And the waves and the shark-wrasses had all the rest of the kid’s crew

So sure enough they set their little screamer-bird up with a nest and let him cry loud as he wanted.

Anyway, if there was one thing Earl Earl Earl and Jane knew, it was how to make a joke so good the other person didn’t even know it were a joke.

“Firebending,” their little fledgling shouted, and waved his arms around, like all that fire pointed at no one was going to get them startled off.

“A-yep,” nodded Old Earl. “That there is some fire-water-bending. Just like Old Jane.”

Old Jane wasn’t the kind of gal who showed off, but she wasn’t the kind who missed no cue, either. She swirled a lick o’ liquor out of her latest barrel and twirled it ‘round and straight into her mouth, and when she spit it out, it looked so much like the little bird’s breath-o’-fire that he didn’t even notice the spark rocks she kept on her fingers as jewelry. No one did, ‘til they’d seen the trick a few times.

The kid’s mouth hung open so low and so long, a moth-tick flew in. That was some kind of life lesson, that was. The swamp was good at sending those.

The Earth Kingdom sent troops a-stompin’ through, losing boots and scaring catigators out of their sunning spots left and right, askin’ all rumbly about those fires they’d spotted, and if anyone from that shipwreck had made it on shore, and talkin’ about how there’d be money in it for them if they made that last answer a “yes,” sounding like Fancy Earl and all his talk about commerce and living standards.

“Got a few parts of them ship people in the lagoon,” Big Earl said. “Probably still floatin’ if you want ‘em. But we better bring the shrimp-minnow nets, ‘cuase they’ll just slosh on through the turtle-sturgeon ones.”

“...No thank you,” the head stomper said, like sayin’ polite words made a fellow a polite man. He’d tracked those boots of his right up onto their porch without so much as a scuff on their mud rug. Even the kid had used the mud rug. “And the fire?”

“Oh,” said Little Earl, with a grin, “that was Old Jane.”

And she did her trick again, only less tricky, so they could see the spark rocks real good. “You boys want some fire water?” she offered. “It ain’t blinded no one who wasn’t already headed that way.”

They didn’t want any, which was grand, ‘cause she hadn’t really been offering.

When the last of them had gone stomping off back to the kind of land that let people stomp it, it took them two whole hours to lure out the catigators from under the porch. And their little screamer bird, too.

“...Why didn’t you turn me in?”

“What?” asked Old Earl, cupping his ear.

“Why—”

“What?”

“—didn’t—”

“WHAT?”

“—you—”

“Speak up, boy,” Old Earl said. “I never heard such a quiet child.”

And boy, did that set their bird back to singing.

[druidonity2]

Dracthyr Miku <3

[crimsonconstl]

happy (late) Keith day!!

[astearisms]

fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started

[pityroad]

IN THE DARK TIMES, WILL THERE ALSO BE SINGING?

from Lady Chatterley's Lover, D.H. Lawrence (via)

“Grief will come to you. Grip and cling all you want, It makes no difference. Catastrophe? It’s just waiting to happen. Loss? You can be certain of it. Flow and swirl of the world. Carried along as if by a dark current. All you can do is keep swimming; All you can do is keep singing.”

from How Beautiful the Beloved, Gregory Orr (via)

Lev St. Valentine (via)

letter to Gustave Flaubert, 27 June 1870, George Sand

from Collected Poems; Horses at Midnight Without a Moon, Jack Gilbert (via)

from On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong (via)

Snow and Dirty Rain, Richard Siken (via)

YES, THERE WILL ALSO BE SINGING. ABOUT THE DARK TIMES.

[yi3248]

happy birthday simon ghost riley

all the joy and love for you, simon

[demigods-posts]

been thinking about that scene in chalice of the gods when percy and annabeth are singing karaoke together. and it's so funny bc percy "if anything, i should be getting a scholarship to NRU" jackson is just stone-faced, fed up with this bullshit and just sings the song bc dammit this might as well happening. and annabeth "this quest is the least dangerous things i've had to do in my entire life, and i'm trapped in my eight-year-old body with no guaranteed that i'll return to myself" chase is just singing her heart out, adding a ridiculous amount of riffs and runs, and is definitely off-key and off tempo. like, percy could not be more pissed off about how stupid it'll be if they don't survive, and annabeth could not care any less about how they win as long as they do. this is a hilarious visual. hats off to rick.

[strange-birb]

Cough*

Jason’s design……

Next time I’m going to go ham with platforms on him like 👀

Not really a design I app for him. I feel like he’s not gonna go all out he’s just vibing idk. He set the makeup being the most prominent thing. His theme is dead boi

He does actually have the scars but I figure paint them all glowey and no one questions it?

He has fun being the zombie on stage and watching his family squirm when they see him in all the makeup lol

Blue lips cold skin wrecked fingernails

Bruce would have an attack 🤣

I don’t really know what to do with Jason’s designs and I’m open to any ideas fr

Official secret band AU!!!

Steph is drummer. Tim singer. Jason guitarist

I’m debating adding another but it won’t be batfam 🤷‍♀️

Tim.

Steph

ROY

CASS

[swokeeon]

women's canto look unreal atm

[shinynewmemories]

Screaming crying throwing up etc over the fact that D12 weddings involve not only the TOASTING of BREAD but also the SINGING of a SONG. "There's always a traditional song we sing" are you FREAKING kidding me Suzanne?? How am I supposed to be normal about this? Knowing that Peeta's first memory of Katniss had her SINGING a SONG and Katniss' first memory of Peeta had him BURNING BREAD? Aughw maybe I'm losing my mind but what if Suzanne invented the toasting based off of Katniss and Peeta's first moments and not the other way around. What if the entire D12 wedding ceremony was created for the sole purpose of solidifying the idea that Katniss and Peeta have been spiritually married since they were 11. What if it's all always been about them. What then

[singing-robot]

he missed it