#harmony (2018)

[tantumuna]

my friend who does not use tumblr made me gifs and so graciously allowed me to share them so i can stare at them forever

[missvampiresydney]

Harmony (2018) aesthetic : Jimmy

“Whatever you did, whatever demons you put in their heads, I’ve already met mine. I talk with them every day, and they like me, because I’m a team player.”

[canisalbus]

I am terribly sorry to inform you that I've been calling Vasco and Machete 'Vaschete' to shorten their names into one. I may have accidentally given them a ship name in my attempt to combine their names into an easier tag for when I reblog your art of the two of them.

.

[warhead]

[arsen1cs4ng0]

WAKE THE FUCK UP TUMBLR NEW FURBY JUST DROPPED AAAAAAAAAAAH

^ thats the furby account they literally posted an hour ago

[pureiceblue]

...You know, I never noticed it before but I have to ask:

Is Ume's Colour effect portrait wearing some kind of choker or... does her head need to be sewed back on at the moment?

She was chopped up into her parts a bit after her death, so yeah that's meant to represent the separation. By the year 2021 her "children" have reassembled her, but she's still gotta regrow that flesh back.

I'd imagine that the scars of her disposal would appear after she gets skin again.

[harmonysanreads]

IKR???? I think I was maybe 15 when I watched BNHA, I was so down for Shoto it was insaneeeeee. For some bizarre reason I stopped watching in the middle of season 3, no rhyme or reason. I just could not finish it and I thought that I wouldn't ever come back to the show.

I was passively aware of some big plot points due to the still active fandom and some video essays which I liked. But like a week ago I just got hit with the desire to watch BNHA again and the reason was fucking Mr Compress.

My TikTok feed is also literally being haunted by Dabi and Hawks, it's so bonkers. When I saw them, I just had to come back.

I vividly recall the sheer popularity of bnha, while I got introduced to it a little later since its release, it was, for the lack of any other word, an obsession for me. I think a lot of us have very fond memories of it, for me, it not only gave me my first ever crush (shoto) but it also introduced me to fanfiction! I used to stay up all night binge reading bnha x reader fanfictions on wattpad *sighs* the good old days. mayyybe, i'll take a peak at bnha again :o

[ivorypiano]

no thoughts just 2018 space age bachelor man

[realtimefanduboutofcontext]

TW: Compulsory heterosexuality (comphet)

Real-Time Fandub | My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, "Return of Harmony" (2018) [YouTube] [Patreon $$]

[reckonslepoisson]

Do Hollywood (2016) Brothers of Destruction (2017) Go To School (2018) Songs For the General Public (2020) Everything Harmony (2023) The Lemon Twigs

By my ears’ reckoning, there are two main features to The Lemon Twigs – despite, obviously, them being a double act. First up, in the mixing, instrumental tones and general sound, the duo offer up some of the most direct nostalgia I’ve ever heard. Plenty of retroists rip-off the past; the Twigs sound like they’re trying to implant themselves in it. 

The other thing is the band’s restlessness. These songs are mobile to an odd extent, there’s an unwillingness to let anything sit or stretch out – and that’s been the case from the very beginning, both within single songs to over the course of the duo’s discography, from the jaunty shifts of Do Hollywood opener ‘I Wanna Prove to You’ through to Go To School’s insistence on a wildly strange concept.  It’s endearing, that anxiety to not sit still, not be dull. 

Neither of those main features are negatives, exactly, but when both are dulled a little, that’s when the Lemon Twigs really hit their stride – culminating in last year’s Everything Harmony, their most measured, patient and finest overall work yet. 

Pick(s): ‘I Wanna Prove to You’, ‘Night Song’, ‘Never In My Arms, Always In My Heart’, ‘Fight’, ‘What Happens to a Heart’

[missvampiresydney]

Harmony (2018) aesthetic : Harmony

“From the moment I was born, I have felt negativity all around me. I have the power to absorb the fear of others but… it hurts. It weakens me.”

[edge-oftheworld]

it’s so satisfying whenever I scrounge together a working set of headphones out of weird secondhand trash (a few years ago it was my old Apple earphones, now it’s free headphones my grandma got on a plane like 10yrs ago which still have the left and right sound plugs, and a two to one adapter so they can plug into my one earphone hole) and they kinda lower the volume of the main vocal (sad) but I re-listened to youngblood (album) and I can hear all of calum and michael and ashtons harmonies in perfect clarity and can I say, being able to hear songs like this without a heap of effort and computer programs I don’t have is just so valuable and an experience that makes me so happy

[crookedfandomquill]

This is very situational, and sadly may not be realistic for everyone, but I need y’all to understand that a very important part of political activism is fucking talking to your conservative or moderate friends and family.

My dad voted for Trump in 2016. He’s a middle class white evangelical from Arkansas. He raised me with conservative Christian values, just like his parents raised him. When he voted Trump, he was holding his nose, but he didn’t feel too bad about it, and went on to vote red down the ticket in the 2018 midterms, as well.

But I started college in 2017. Higher education and independence changed everything for me, and I went home over holidays and summers with fire in my belly and a thousand arguments ready at the drop of a hat, to my father’s dismay.

I remember crying in my room after emotional, intense arguments with him. I told him over and over that I felt betrayed by his choice to vote for a man who admitted to sexually assaulting women, who built his platform on dehumanizing immigrants and the disabled, who spread overtly-racist rhetoric, who flouted the values of kindness and self-discipline that I’d been raised on. And my dad always had some justification about the “greater good”: fighting against abortion, bolstering the economy, getting other Christian politicians into office.

But over time, as we grew further apart and I lost my will to discuss anything with him at all, he softened. He started asking me why I thought the way I did about the things we disagreed about. He would listen to my answers without interruption, and mull them over afterward instead of expressing his own opinion. And all the while, he watched the Trump presidency become cruel and absurd and devastating.

The first time he openly expressed regret to me, I had come home for a weekend after Kavanaugh was confirmed to SCOTUS. My dad realized he had helped elect a man who preyed on women… and that man had opened the door to more predators. I can’t tell you what it felt like for him to admit that he’d made a mistake, not just in voting for Trump but in defending him for so long. We kept arguing, but it was more debating than fighting. I knew he was capable of seeing my side of things, even if it took a while, and he knew I wasn’t just a sensitive college student with shallow new ideas about the world.

And then 2020 hit. Specifically, George Floyd was murdered, and the events that followed played out on the national stage. My dad was incredibly shaken by it. He asked me if I had any books from college about racial issues. I loaned him The New Jim Crow, one of the required readings for my Race and the Law class. Then I gave him Just Mercy. Then he watched the documentary 13th. Then he joined a racial harmony group he learned about through one of the few Black families at our church and insisted our whole family come. He held up signs at a protest against Confederate monuments in our conservative southern town. In three years, he went from defending Trump’s comments about “Black-on-Black crime” to publicly advocating for racial justice and opposing the death penalty.

We went together to vote in the 2020 primaries. I couldn’t help asking who he’d voted for; I didn’t even know if he’d asked for the Republican or Democratic ticket. He admitted he’d voted for Bernie. fucking. Sanders, then made me promise not to tell my grandma he’d voted liberal. When the election rolled around in November, he voted Biden. I’m sure he held his nose to do it, just like he held his nose voting in 2016. But I know he doesn’t regret it.

I am, of course, unbelievably lucky to have a parent who loved me enough, and was empathetic enough, to choose his relationship with me over his strongly-held opinions. He kept searching for truth because, as much as he’ll deny it, he’s a very smart and curious person. No degree of intelligence or curiosity makes you immune to propaganda, especially if you were raised not to question the party line. It’s easy to dismiss our conservative, conspiracy-pilled loved ones as stupid, hypocritical, and cruel. Sometimes they are. But sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes they will bend to keep their relationships from breaking. Sometimes, if they can be made to understand that their beliefs and actions are harming someone they love, they will make concessions. And sometimes they just need one person in their life to put a foot down, to be vulnerable and assertive and argumentative, to bring the impact of their politics close to home.

As the most important election of our lifetimes approaches, do not put peace over progress. If you have someone like my dad, someone who is good-willed and smart and loves you more than their own opinions, tell them how you feel. Tell them what their choices will mean for you, for your friends, for your community. Tell them what they could lose: your trust, your affection, your respect. Don’t avoid conflict if it could be productive. Because my conflict with my dad didn’t just win him over–it won over my moderate mom and one of my conservative brothers. And it put us in community with other like-minded people and led my parents to a healthier and kinder faith.

All of this to say, there is hope in conflict. There is hope in our relationships with people who think differently from us. There is hope in exposing your fear and anger and pain to people you love. And hope is a form of activism.

[simthorium]

It was a really exciting day for the children of Generation 8; SimCity Fun Park day! The kids loaded up into a car with their parents, aunts, and uncles, and headed out to Bluewater Village. First stop: The Cyclone, the largest wooden roller coasters in the city.

“This is gonna be so awesome!” Alana exclaimed. “You sure you not scared?” “Scared?” Taylor echoed. “Tuh! I’m gonna sit in the front!” “Can I sit with you?!” Alana asked. Nearby, Amber and Sadé discussed their plans for the coaster too. “We’ll sit second row,” said Amber. “It’s just as fun as the first, but not as scary.” “Good plan!” Sadé said. “Where am I gonna sit?” Gavin asked, feeling a little left out. “I’ll sit with you,” said Harmony. “Jason thinks since he’s the oldest, he gets a whole row to himself.” “I am, and I do,” Jason said, crossing his arms.

The next empty car for the roller coaster pulled up and the kids filed in as discussed; Alana and Taylor in the front, Sadé and Amber behind them, Harmony and Gavin in the third row, and Jason by himself bringing up the rear.

“THIS IS AWESOMEEEEE!” Taylor screamed at the top of her lungs as the coaster dipped them down fast, speeding down the track. “Front row is the best!” Alana shouted, clapping her hands.

The kids held on tightly as the coaster did a loop-de-loop, screams and laughter ringing out as they raced further. The roller coaster was rickety and fast, whipping them all around through the scenic background of the neighborhood.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Gavin muttered. “Be sick that way!” Harmony shouted, pushing him away from her. “I can’t have puke on me on this awesome ride!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!” Sadé screamed, throwing her hands up in the air as they went down another loop. Amber smiled, trying to hold her arms up too, but she was just a little too scared to keep them all the way up.

“One more loop!” Taylor called, looking behind her at her cousins’ happy faces. “Thank god,” Gavin muttered. “Stop being a crybaby and enjoy the ride!” called Harmony. “I wanna go again!” Sadé screamed at the top of the hill.

“You guys are all so lame,” Jason said coolly, trying his best to look unbothered in the back row, despite the fact that he was having the time of his life. As the oldest cousin, he had to keep up appearances.

The ride came to an end, quietly weaving its way through a pond that squirted the passengers with water as it made its way to the end.

The kids caught their breath, still exhilarated by the excitement of the ride. Alana clapped her hands happily as the ride came to a close. “That was the most fun ever in the world!” she said, unable to stop grinning. “I definitely need a funnel cake after that,” Taylor said with a sigh. “And a hot dog!” Amber piped up. “Or an ice cream!” said Sadé. “I think I need a barf bag,” Gavin grumbled from the back.

The kids got off the ride and met up with the adults right afterwards. Bryan, Corey, Penelope, and Kenya were waiting for their kids and nieces and nephews in the food court, just hanging out together as the kids rode the ride. “Did you see how fast we went, mom!?” Amber exclaimed, rushing up to Kenya. “I did, sweetie,” Kenya said with a smile. “It looked like you had so much fun!” “The funnest!” Sadé exclaimed, hugging both of her dads. “I want to come here everyday!”

“Did Gavin really throw up?” Amber asked, giggling with Sadé. “Harmony, you have to tell us!” Sadé said. Harmony just shrugged. “Close but no cigar,” she said. “Guess he doesn’t have what it takes.” “We gotta toughen him up and show him what it’s like to be a real Zarro,” Amber said, garnering nods from her cousins.

“Alright kids, lets take a quick pic before he head on over to the next ride,” Penelope said, wrangling up all the kids. Everyone got into position, ready to take a fun picture and document the exciting day for years to come.