#can we listen to the THEMES

[osarquivosmagnus]

I need gwen to be so fucking for real right now. Girl WHY are you acting like you are a villain in a brazilian soap opera. You are in a horror podcast PAY ATTENTION TO THE FLESH AND BLOOD AND EYES AND ALMOST BEING KILLED and stop laughing it up in your predecessor's office PLEASE

[autisticandroids]

FAMINE: That's one deep, dark nothing you've got there, Dean.

[youtube with closed captions]

dean and his father. dean and his family. dean and how bad it is.

(via @closetoyou1970)

[desaturate-worlds]

kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor.

logan was desperate for the relief of his mouth pressed to wade’s. he needed it, needed to put his feelings into an action. needed wade to do the same, to envelope logan in himself. he had spent years he couldn’t count feeling bitter, alone, guilty. he felt like a monster.

that is, until he found wade. or, more accurately, until wade found him. he was washed in the glow of the other man, felt his love surround him in ways he didn’t know possible. his grief untangled itself from the constricting hold on his heart and spread throughout him, and wade took as much of it from him as he could.

he had never had someone to share the load with, someone who would listen and care and hold him up when he was falling apart. he wanted to worship the other man, it was what logan imagined religion was for other people. he was addicted to the warmth that flooded his body when wade was in the room. would listen to his incessant rambling as if he was delivering a sermon.

the two were sitting very close to one another, on the living room floor. wade had one leg folded under himself, the other knee pulled up towards his chest as he turned to look at logan. logan was sitting with his legs criss-crossed, but they started to unfold as he leaned towards wade. the only light in the room was the glow of the television, whatever nic cage movie they had been watching was forgotten as they talked quietly to each other.

it was nights like these that felt holy to logan. sacred. like they were the only two people in the world awake right now. his right leg pressed into wade’s left thigh, and the point of contact felt like deliverance.

when logan pushed himself a few more inches forward, his lips just a breath away from wade’s, he saw wade’s mouth pull into a soft smile. when their mouths met, it felt like a baptism. he felt saved.

the two men (though logan felt the word man devalued what wade was to him, deity felt more accurate) folded into one another before wade started leaning backwards, pulling logan down with him. their noses banged into each other with the movement and the two pulled apart to laugh quietly together. logan couldn’t school his smile into anything other than what it was: pure joy. wade’s eyes shone with affection, and the wolverine felt his smile widen further at the sight.

he hid his face in the other man’s neck, nuzzling into his skin, allowing himself to be swallowed in his scent. this was salvation, here on the living room floor of their shitty apartment in the middle of the night. if this was eternity, logan understood why people dedicated their lives to their religions - he would do anything to keep this forever.

and the best part of it all was that he could keep it forever. dripping in wade’s favor, this was his heaven.

i don’t believe in god, but i believe that you’re my savior.

[finalgirlgretchen]

if one more person tries to claim that the oh hellos are no longer christian i am going to lose my shit

[cawsket]

The moral of the arcane season two act three is that if you're suicidal you should just go ahead and kill yourself

[jojo-schmo]

What if I wanted to break out my tenor sax and play in the Kirby 30th Anniversary Music Fest, too!?

Plus, the outfits the Kirby crew wear are PEAK, look at them!!

[hanzajesthanza]

the training montage in crossroads re-ignited a headcanon i had of geralt waking up and doing gymnastics, performing kickflips and mid-air spins around on a fencepost outside an hour before sunrise to ‘limber up,’ and bleary-eyed dandelion wrapping himself up in a blanket to be like "heyyy... what the hell are you doing 💖"

[pasdetrois]

Marina Dyachenko and Sergey Dyachenko, Vita Nostra (tr. Julia Meitov Hersey) • Mircea Suciu, Camouflage (2) • Agostino Arrivabene, Immutatio • Matthias Claudius, "Der Tod und Das Mädchen" • Henry Fuseli, The Nightmare • Dragan Bibin, Pull (edited) • Maria Kreyn, Angel's Back • Franz Wimmer, Death and the Maiden • Mel Chin, Bat and Dove • Ana Sanchez, Death and the Maiden

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 303 what if the art today was....... AUDIO............

since i recorded this JoCo cover with pell @karkaraoke* a while back, i have been wanting to get back into the homestuck va game and also trying to be a lot less uptight about the quality of my singing/audio editing because that's how you keep yourself from practicing!!! i do art i know this!!

*speaking of. if this kinda thing is your jam do yourself a favor and check out their Lotus Time Capsule on dropbox, it's full of literally every vocal homestuck fansong that was on tindeck when it died in 2018 AND MORE!! it is meticulously organized and extremely rad Anyway this is a parody of Dream Girl Evil by Florence + the Machine i came up with when i was bored at work one day. lyrics under the cut!

dream girl, l0wbl00d

well did y0u twist the hem0spectrum just to kiss me? 0h did y0u fix me? change my bl00d, my b0dy? ive been expecting y0u, im ready deliver me that s0ulb0t, baby

am i y0ur dream girl?  y0u c0uldnt stand the red n0 y0u c0uld never h0ld me  y0u like me better in y0ur head make me regal like im a highbl00d instead at least i can feel s0mething when im dead

dream girl, l0wbl00d x4

did i disapp0int y0u did liking me feel wr0ng did my bl00d remind y0u 0f all the ways y0u werent s0 str0ng? make me perfect make me y0ur fantasy a heart built t0 l0ve y0u well take it 0ut 0f me

am i y0ur dream girl?  y0u c0uldnt stand the red n0 y0u c0uld never h0ld me  y0u like me better in y0ur head make me regal like im a highbl00d instead at least i can feel angry when im dead

watch me shiver as im hem0rrhaging y0ur c0l0r but d0nt c0me crying i d0 n0t exist f0r y0ur pleasure

it cann0t h0ld/dream girl, l0wblood (repeated)

[aphchinass]

(All day all day) Watch them all fall down

[feroluce]

Thinking tonight about Caelus, and the nature of his loss and his grief after the Everything that went down in Penacony during 2.0.

Because Acheron, Black Swan, and Misha kind of knew of Firefly, they at least met her, but they didn't like really know her, and Caelus never even got the chance to introduce her to the rest of the Astral Express Crew. The only person who would have talked to her much was Sparkle, who is. Probably not really someone Caelus is interested in grieving with skznmsks

Anyway, all this to say, I like thinking about how alone poor Caelus is in his grief, because he was the only one who knew Firefly. He's the only one really mourning her. There's no one to talk about her with. There's no stories to trade or memories to reminisce with anyone over. It's not as though he knew her for long, but still. No one else knew her at all.

And I love the thought of all of this coming bubbling up, hot and acidic and bitter, during a conversation with Sampo, who Caelus just so happens to run into in the Golden Hour. Poor Sampo is kinda blindsided, he knew shit was going down in Penacony, but yeesh. And he just. Isn't quite sure what to say about it all, because he's never really encountered this before. His feelings about the Masked Fools are...a mixed bag, but he's been a part of them for a very long time, and when you're with a close organization like that, it's hard to feel alone, in grief or otherwise.

So Sampo sits there on their little bench that the two of them have occupied, and he thinks of his old friend April, how she'd died in his arms cackling and spitting her own blood after a heist gone wrong, and how after he'd dragged himself back to the World's End Tavern they'd all held a Fool's Funeral- which is basically just a big party where everyone gets really really drunk and reminisces and toasts the dead and celebrates their life.

He still thinks about her a lot, and he remembers how the time he'd most keenly felt her absence was on Jarilo-VI, the one place where he couldn't talk about her because he couldn't say anything to give himself away as an alien. The Fools still tell stories about her every time he goes back to the Tavern. His first toast of the night is always in her name. Even now, all these years after she'd died, Sampo is still learning new things about her. He's never had to grieve her alone.

Caelus doesn't have any of that.

He might never have that. As they speak, Caelus has no proof that Firefly was even her real name, or if she dreamt with her true appearance. He might not ever find out who she even was.

And just imagining that kind of loneliness hollows out a strange little pit, right behind his sternum, deep between his ribs.

So Sampo claps Caelus' shoulder and offers him a deal. Come find him outside of the dream. He knows a guy who can get them a lot of beer for really cheap-

("Is that guy you and your five finger discounts?" "Whatever do you mean, dear friend, I don't even know the meaning of the phrase, hehee.")

-and they can hole up in a bar or a hotel room or something, and get completely shitcanned. Tell him all about Firefly, tell him everything, and he'll tell Caelus about April and everyone else he's ever lost. Sampo will carry Caelus' memories of Firefly with him, and at least this way, Caelus will be a little less alone in remembering her. And the next time they cross paths, Sampo will be the one to bring her up, and to tell her stories, and Caelus can get to be the one listening. He won't have to be the only person to talk about her anymore.

Caelus rolls his eyes when Sampo avoids another remark about sticky fingers, but...ok, yeah. That sounds good. Nice, even. Thank you. Caelus bumps his shoulder against Sampo's. Sampo bumps back.

(They find each other again the next day, and true to their word, get themselves completely and utterly shitcanned. Caelus talks more than Sampo has ever heard him; every minute detail, every word choice, Firefly's every odd little mannerism and habit. Because Caelus wants to make sure this will outlive him, that even if the Stellaron dwelling within him finally burns him to a crisp and he really does up and kick the bucket, or even, godforbid, if he forgets, he wants to make sure someone remembers her. She deserved that.)

((And it takes quite a while, after that. Caelus doesn't see Sampo again until after everything has settled down. On his last day in Penacony, he finds the guy slinking out of a seedy back alley and all but runs right into him. Sampo happily leads him to some dive bar in an even seedier back alley that Caelus has never even heard of, and Sampo raises his glass. "To Firefly! Who sounds like she probably would have hated me at first, but I would have liked to have met her anyway."

And Caelus stares at him, almost looking startled, long enough that Sampo worries that he's read him wrong and brought this up too soon. He's halfway into planning how to talk himself out of this situation when Caelus finally throws back his head back and laughs, tells him that yeah, Firefly would have politely called him out on every lie he told, and all their conversations would take twice as long with the way Sampo is so full of shit.

And he can see it, the same way he watches and sees through everyone, that Caelus' eyes have a tightness to them, his knuckles are nearly white around the handle of his mug. But he smiles. He hits his glass against Sampo's far too hard and throws it back and gets foam everywhere like he does every time they drink because the guy's about as elegant as a raging bull, but those things don't lessen the genuineness of his smile.

The grief is there, but so is the elation, and those emotions aren't a sliding scale between one or the other. It is all of both and both at once, and that's what contents Sampo enough to throw his own mug back when Caelus makes a toast of his own, "to April!!".))

[long-suffering-little-spoon]

i survived the gatsby slime tutorial and all i got was a breathtaking show with beautiful costumes and sets and lighting and amazing performances and a banger score. and this second hand suit.

[empty-blog-for-lurking]

My ideal vld fix-it is Lance and Hunk having "two birds on a wire" style blind faith vs unhealthy mistrust parallel arcs, where Lance trusts the wrong person and not himself to the point of actively ignoring the warning signs he sees vs Hunk who trusts himself but doesnt trust others to the point of going full Nancy Drew and going behind his teams back, and this causes a chasm in their friendship which would have been more focused upon in earlier seasons (and then they kiss <3)

[m4resr41lr0ad]

you can tell that I'm way too fixated on this attraction because tell me why I'm drawing a oc I made for the ghost train getting possessed

[cloudsrust]

Honestly, if the battle theme slowly corrupts/starts falling apart, more closely to how Pepper Steak does, as we proceed through the Zones (and as our perception of everything around us changes) I think I'll simply get purified myself.

White Meat feels like the Batter (and us) is seeing the fights as simply a job to do, clearing the smoke mines and the barns. We are working alongside the Elsen with an involuntary facade of protection (at least until the Post Office-). The jazz is still giving off an everyday feeling, with the repeating voices as the routines of the other workers, but it has that subtle distortion that already hints at things being, well, off.

The music, to me, also still has that muffled vibe of the og battle theme, as if you aren't really listening to it or even just remembering it in a hazy way (the old record playing in the room next to you kinda vibe). This is perfect for both the Batter one-track mind and for how us, the puppeteer, are witnessing everything from the outside. Is just.. yes.

I'm so excited to hear how the other zones will sound,, already all over this slow eerie approach.

[chaotic-minds-think-alike]

This is what Moon’s ost feels like and it still makes me so unbelievably emotional

(Wow the quality was butchered- click for full quality)