#but its glass animals

[vinylfoxtalks]

Listen, I'm a lesbian but if there is an attractive, sweaty man wearing a mesh crop top dropping to his knees with his guitar in hand and panting with his tongue out (not to mention the lead singer of my favourite band), I'm going to find him attractive.

I can appreciate, as someone who would never date a man, the appeal of an attractive scene.

[rabbitmotifs]

HE CANT KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS

[heartorbit]

find another role, carry on the show

[callmearcturus]

The vinyl comes with... this. This is not the lyrics to the songs. I'm gonna transcribe it, because I think the first time you listen should be with this.

You are about to listen to an album by the Glass Animals. You don't always listen to albums from beginning to end, but maybe you will this time. It was written for you. (Linear Notes by Gabrielle Zevin)

SHOW PONY

You are a child. Before you were a child, your parents were children. Most origin stories begin with love, and yours is no different. Once upon a time, two people fell in love, and then it ended. It's the first love story you were every told, and it teaches you the one certainty in life is that all things end. From this point forward, you are not a romantic. They call you the cynic, and to protect yourself, you take on many forms.

WHATTHEHELLISHAPPENING

You are kidnapped. You are in the trunk of a moving car, fetal position, darkness, screech of the tires against the road, the scent of gasoline. You don't know how you got there, but it isn't the worst place you have ever found yourself, and in a way, it feels inevitable. You know you could die, so you find yourself thinking about all the people you have ever loved. The trunk is like a womb. You could live here forever but eventually you'd get lonely. Your relentless need for company is your hamarita.

CREATURES IN HEAVEN

You are a psychic. You ask your lover if they want to know the hour and the day that the two of your will part. They laugh at you, and they say they don't believe in psychics. You suspect that their failure to believe in your gift might be the problem that leads to the demise of your relationship. But who cares? This relationship ends in three months, and you may as well enjoy it. Evanescence can sometimes be a profound pleasure.

WONDERFUL NOTHING

You are a prizefighter who is in love with a boxer. You say, "It's a bad idea." (JAB, JAB, CROSS.) And the boxer says, "It's only a bad idea if it gets in the way of our work." (SLIP.) And you say, "Promise me you'll never pull any punches." (CROSS. CROSS. HOOK.) The boxer swears they won't. (SLIP. JAB.) But when you fight, the boxer always pulls their punches, and you never do. You're pretty sure this makes you a bad person. You're a prizefighter, and you do not love this boxer or anyone enough to pull punches. (JAB. CROSS. HOOK.) Just before throwing the knockout punch, you whisper, "I love you so fucking much."

A TEAR IN SPACE

You are a sock. You are an earplug. You are a miniature glass horse. You are easy to misplace. You are you, so you think you matter. You are nothing. No one even notices when you left the party.

I CAN'T MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE AGAIN

You are an astrophysicist. You believe you can use sound waves to control time and space. A song is a time machine, you tell your colleagues. If you sing the right song, you could transport the lover to a particular time and place. You could reverse time, and if you could reverse time, you could make them love you again. Your belief in science occasionally makes you pathetic.

HOW I LEARNED TO LOVE THE BOMB

You are a damsel, and you are in love with a monster. You're not sure how it happened. You'd been warned about such creatures by the fairy tales of your youth. But in bedtime stories, the monster always presented as monster. The beast was hirsute, the vampire had fangs, the wolf in your grandmother's clothing was clearly not your grandmother. But your monster is clean cut and has good teeth. They knock at the door. You invite them in, and just like that, you are fucking a monster. You should be upset about it, but you aren't. The thing they don't tell you about monsters is that they are sexy as hell.

WHITE ROSES

You are Proteus. You are a god and you can change forms when the situation calls for it. This is hand for work, but difficult when it comes to relationships. You have occasionally been guilty of taking a form that you knew would make you lovable to some unsuspecting mortal. But it always ends the same way. A terrible row at an inconvenient time-- say, just before you're about to leave for the airport-- and then, you're forced to reveal yourself. You don't always mean to change forms, but it's second nation for you to shift a bit here and there-- pretend you like a certain band, express an enthusiasm for sport. Are you shapeshifting, or are you concealing yourself, and is there a difference in the end? Still, you love making people fall in love with you. Every time you do it, you promise you'll never do it again. And they you do it again.

ON THE RUN

You are an escape artist. You are handcuffed, straitjacketed, loaded into a zipped and padlocked duffle bag, wrapped in chains, tossed into the bottom of the ocean. It is billed as "The Greatest Escape of the Greatest Escape Artist, and the Culmination of a Career of Death-Defying Acts!"

The spectators on the pier anticipate your deliverance. They are sure you'll surface because you always surface. They aren't fearful; they are waiting to be dazzled. What they cannot know is how bored you are of dazzling.

You exit the bag, careful to take the props of your confinement so there will be no remains. You swim to another, distant pier. You don't see the people on the pier cry. You don't read your obituary. It's no longer your concern.

A week later, you are homesick, and you concede that your plan has failed. You miss the people on the pier and your cat and your bed and your favorite restaurant and your wristwatch. You don't remember what problems your faked death was going to solve so you can't say if it solved them.

The greatest power in the universe is nostalgia, and it that's true, maybe the people on the pier will forgive you. maybe you could come back from the dead. Now wouldn't that be the greatest escape ever?

LOST IN THE OCEAN

Who are you, anyway?

Why are so many songs addressed to you?

It's simple, you think. The songs are for you because I love you so fucking much, and when you say you, you mean all the yours: the parents and the child, the damsel and the monster, the escape artist and the crowd on the pier, the sock and the one who forgets the sock, the prizefighter and the boxer, and the world that contains all these people. You are all the lovers you failed, and all the ones who failed you. You are the lovers you haven't yet encountered-- there will be many because this world is filled with people to love. You are the singer, and you are the song. And you conclude that the only way to resist the ephemerality of all things is by singing love songs to you, whoever you are, wherever you are in the universe.

[lucabyte]

Happy PMD Red is on NSO day. Sadly I don't think King the Skitty and Muse the Cyndaquil will be returning to finish up their adventure regardless.

[screams-of-the-damned84]

don’t think I’ll ever have time to properly finish this so here’s a slightly cleaned up version of that wip from forever ago <3

[figurecollection]

Green Glass Model Kit by Kotobukiya, of Megalomaria Unlimited Universe

[arkeresia]

what kind of re-animator fan would I be if didn't redraw this iconic shot 🫶

[bamsara]

being an adult means we can buy or make as much self-indulgent shit (as we can afford) and unironically have trinkets of our fave things cause our teen years was bullied for liking things and hiding/denying we were ever neurodivergent to the point of suicide. sucks for anyone that thinks its weird cringe but I'm going to try and allow myself to love myself in little ways now

[vppacer]

Hello kitty Herbert west :3 💚

I had some spare hello kitty figures laying around and 2 hello Daniel so I took one and turned him to Herbert :D oh and a glow in the dark stars I cut up to a glasses shapes ^^ (should I add blood to it tho? Cus idk)

[bittsandpieces]

I totally understand the aspect of OF fucking up your whole sexual mindset and body image. Damn, though, I’d really love to see you at the height of self enjoyment🥲

.....okay how about this. I'm still job hunting and while I don't have a ton of bills at the moment, there are definitely expenses

$15 to my ca.shapp ($bittsandpieces2) or ve.nmo (@bittsandpieces) with your username in the memo and I'll send you a link 😘

And, as an incentive: this is the outfit 🥰

[mbumblebuzz]

five fingers, two black hooves

[raptorwithamarker]

who's copying who?

[specterris]

he looks bad yes but i cant draw any of these characters so its ok

[marisol-000]

Speaking to you from inside your mind

Alrighty!!! I promised and now I'm delivering! The oneshot for the Tgs Hearing Aid au! This'll be a bit odd since I have no idea how to write people with hearing aids but if I don't try I never will so here goes

Shoutout to @lillibethnougatesquirethe3rd, @basilthesnakingthing, @mistakes-have-been-made, and @littletownman who helped make this au with me!!!!

[a03]

It was an ordinary day like any other when Jekyll heard something. Which wasn't too unusual, he often heard things. Most everyday in fact, big fan of it that man. But today he heard something odd.

A small shifting, like fabric or long hair, something soft. He doesn't think much of it, almost tuning it out entirely. On a busy campus like this there could be a marching band made entirely of trumpets and it wouldn't be worth looking up for. So he didn't even consider looking around the classroom when all the notes and textbooks he could ever need were right in front of him.

Until it happened again. More shifting, someone shuffling around. It sounded louder, like they were getting closer to him. But that doesn't make sense, there was no one near him.

In fact, there was no one in the room with him at all.

Jekyll had stayed after class to finish up his notes and was clearly the only person there. Finally peeking his head out of his book he eyed the room with confusion…yup. Just him. The classroom was large but it was no auditorium, just a few rows of chairs with hardwood tables, nowhere for anyone to hide. He was sitting in the front row, as close to the teachers desk as he could, with the door across from him. He was probably just hearing someone in the hall or next room over. Sure it was late and most everyone had left campus already, but he was still there. Though he'd probably have to hurry to avoid getting locked in, again.

He had almost managed to convince himself it was nothing when he heard a new noise. Clinking, like small bells or bracelets. Jekyll looked again, bewildered. Okay there was nothing in here that would make those noises, there's nothing even moving near him. What was going on?

“Alright try it again.”

He jumped. The voice was right. in. his. ear.

A low mumbling.

“You're going to parr-e later?”

For a moment he sat shocked, looking around with wide eyes. There's no one around him, certainly not close enough to be speaking right in his ears. Feeling a bit silly, he tentatively called out.

“Er, hello?”

He heard a yelp and startled curses. This wasn't making sense he could hear the voice right in his ears. Was he over the speaker system maybe? Or- or-

“Who said that?! I'll fuck you up you fucking…fucker!”

There it was, a voice as clear and loud as his own. It was a man's voice, he couldn't tell the age. And scratchy. He spoke with an exaggerated cockney accent, though Jekyll couldn't tell what was under it.

“Not you i'm talking to whoever's prankin me right now. Where are you you prick!?”

Oh right, that's him.

“I'm right here.” Jekyll said, pushing his chair back and standing, “Where are you?”

He could hear the shuffling of footsteps near him, like the person was wandering around looking for him.

“Well? Come out then!”

Jekyll tried to get over his surprise and think logically about this. How do you hear someone who's not in the same room as you? You call them. And if you want to hear them directly in your ears? You connect to your headphones.

As a child Henry Jekyll had a… certain hobby that led to a series of infections. He was fine for the most part but a particularly bad ear infection resulted in loss of hearing; and he'd eventually had to get hearing aids. He'd had them for so long he didn't even think about them when he heard the man's voice. Most days he forgot about them entirely after putting them on in the morning. The man must have connected to them somehow and was ‘on call’ with Jekyll.

“Excuse me. Er, hello?” “Man I cannot be hallucinating again last time it was- yeah you remember- with the eyes and junk-”

The other man was still talking, rambling really, with the occasional swear thrown in for good measure. Whoever this was was getting old quick. Jekyll cleared his throat impatiently.

“A-hem! Right, so I believe l know what's going on here. Our headphones got connected.”

There was quiet on the other end, whatever gesture or expression the other man was making was lost on Jekyll, who continued.

“I think when you turned your headphones on they accidentally connected to mine instead of your laptop or phone or whatever. So if you could just… disconnect your bluetooth device for a moment?”

“Hey!” he snapped, “My 'bluetooth device’ is my fucking hearing aids asshole!”

Jekyll blinked. Wait. This man also had hearing aids? What were the odds? Probably pretty high actually they must be on the same system.

That didn't explain why they were hearing each other now though. He certainly hadn't paired them together, maybe the man's headset had linked to the nearest thing like it? Or a bug from a new update he hadn't checked?

“Huh…my bluetooth device are my aids. They must have connected somehow…”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, “Wait really? Huh… What kind do you have?”

“HJ7.”

“Same.”

Well that increased the odds of a system error rather than blind luck(deaf luck?). Jekyll didn't exactly run into people like himself all that often, it was likely he simply hadn't been close enough to someone else's aids to run into a problem like this before.

“Right well, I'm in room 208 right now so if you come here we can try to figure this out.”

“What? Room 20- where the hell are you i'm not even in a building right now you git!”

Jekyll grit his teeth, god he just wanted to finish his notes and go home already. The man's voice was starting to give him a headache.

“I'm in the Rose building, room 208. If you use the front door and take the stairs on the left it's on the right side of the hallway.

“…wait. The Rose building? You're at that fancy ass college? Right now?”

“Yes. Upstairs on the right so if you could just come upstairs then we can sort this all out.”

“Well I can't fucking do that can I! I'm at The Copper Cog!”

Jekyll paused. The copper cog? The penny university next to that courtyard? That was all the way across town! What was going on?

[mega-trans]

What if — TF Prompts #1

Set in the Shattered Glass Universe (I don’t know much abt it so it’s kinda biased in the content I’ve seen of it)

To Autobot eyes, OP is just a silly little guy with good intentions and everything’s good and nice, but in reality (Decepticon eyes) he’s this eldritch abomination with long and skinny legs, giant clawed and sharp servos and sunken optics.

But Megan, why don’t the other Autobots notice this? It’s simple.

The Matrix Of Leadership is basically a parasite who infects the mind of its hosts and makes them hallucinate until their final breaths (Where The Matrix can no longer feed on the spark of the ‘supposed willing Autobot’, leaving them to die with the sight of a lanky creature staring down at them eerily)

Decepticons are mostly Divergents, which means their processors have resistance to the Matrix’s influence. It was a small glitch that came from the Well Of The All Spark and kept spreading until it was too late for the Autobots to regain control on the rebels.

Anyways, AO3 writers, artists… do ur thing 🫡