#horrible things happening to me

[haetrack]

val comeback to us queen

making a short return hello everyone

[inkskinned]

the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.

capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.

now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.

and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.

and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.

and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".

it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"

[shepscapades]

X isn’t big on hugs, but Doc does what he can. It’s the little things that help.

[swearengen]

that freak sat outside and made a snow seal. a damn snow seal. she'll get your dead wife's name wrong while keeping her body in her basement and also spend 30 minutes earnestly making a lump barely resembling a seal. out of snow.

[jupio]

we are SO back

(click the image for better quality, see below for me w dip n pip and also THE ABSOLUTE HELL ON EARTH I HAD DRAWING PHIL)

yknow what gets me? their heads are really big. like I know proportions. I get it. but. you ever hug someone and realise their head is like twice the size of yours????

struggle. why on god is he so difficult to draw

[skunkes]

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

TF One Sentinel Prime

[orange-cheetah]

thought the framing looked familiar,, suddenly its 2016 again and i miss more things than i thought possible

[rabbithaver]

"Whereas Silver, I would think, for all of his openness and naivety... is hesitant to make new friends, because he's used to seeing them die. You don't want to make connections after a point, but he is also, y'know, clearly desperate to make connections, because he's a people person. He likes other people, he wants to be around other people, he wants to protect people." -- Ian Flynn, on Silver the hedgehog

(NOTE: this quote is from an upcoming Espilver BumbleKast Mini sponsored by @transmanshadow!)

[damianbugs]

DEBUNKING SOME COMMON COMIC COMPLAINTS:

the funniest shit ever is when i say "oh hey friend you should give batman comics a try i think you'll like them!" and the response is "no thanks he's a bad dad in those i'll stick to fics." because like... i swear to you on my life Bruce Wayne Ao3 has done worse shit in fics than he ever has in canon.

"oh but you can just filter those tags/ignore those stories—" you can. do the same with comics... this man has been around for decades. do you think every story was exactly the same? not even the SAME writers write him the same way twice. (EXAMPLE: Frank Millers 'Batman Year One' has bruce jump off a bridge to save a baby. Frank Millers 'Batman and Robin All Stars' has bruce feed dick rats.)

"oh but fics are free—" so are comics 🏴‍☠️... unless ur a coward. whoever told you that you have to buy comics to read them or enjoy them is a liar and you should explode them. spending money and collecting is a completely personal (and life altering) decision.

"it's so hard to find specific comics/dynamics/tropes etc" the internet is truly a fantastic place. you can find a reading list or blog for the most niche of characters, so you will have absolutely no problem finding one for the bastard man who appears in every single comic ever published by dc. if not, ask your comic friends and not friends, comic blogs, tiktok comment sections etc. there will be one hyperfixated enthusiast eagerly awaiting the opportunity to give you their extensive guide.

"i just want to read/create my own story with them" you and me both buddy. reading comics doesn't mean you are not allowed to let yourself indulge in completely impossible fanon scenarios that heal or ruin your life. in fact, do you know the inexplicable euphoria that comes with stumbling upon a fic that rewrote a canon event? continued a badly finished comic story? it's life changing. fun to write too!

if you don't want to read comics for whatever reason, fine, literally whatever — but if you want to and certain things are holding you back from doing do, this is for you! who gaf about fandom discourse and "name me three batman comics"-ism, just don't hold yourself back from exploring this media even further! if anything, having a couple comics under your belt makes analysis and discussion far more genuine, and not like your chatting shit from out your ass.

[fakakta-art]

I screamed out, "How'd it get this bad?" And the thunder answered back; "If you know not what you lack Then you must un-turn your back Your inside is overcast You are tethered to your past And it must feel like fucking hell To be a patchwork of yourself"

The Thunder Answered Back by Gabby's World

[feng-shui71]

a boy who’s jacked and kind!

[khevras]

Golden Wind/Vento Aureo Spoilers

Video Transcript

Bruno: I'll be forced to cut ties with you. A traitor stands alone on an island of isolation. Your failure will be yours and yours alone.

So recently I've decided I really wanted to rewatch golden wind after reading the rest of the parts, and since this time I wanted to give more focus to the animation, I decided to watch it in dub. As a result, when I got to this part in ep3, I realised the dub had elected to change what exactly Bruno had said, stating the words above instead.

This struck me as a bit of a wierd change until I then realised how much this moment foreshadows Fugos 'betrayal' at San Giorgio Maggiore; by having the only one not betraying the boss being the one who suffers what Bruno predicted.

I feel like this foreshadowing is honestly amazing, and also hits home at how Fugo feels later on in phf when thinking back to his actions as the pier. I feel like he really does think of his lack of movement as a failure towards Bucciarati, one he has to atone for and I think it's really interesting.

On top of that, I find it really fun how accurate Brunos words are to the situation as a whole, and I find it quite ironic that the one who suffers them isn't even betraying the boss like Bruno is describing, but rather Bruno himself.

Overall, I really like how this singular line foreshadows a moment episodes later, and how I can bring up how Fugo's opinions and feelings on the event are reflected in Bucciarati's words.

[wardingshout]

I just think that they

[glitter-stained]

Kinda wanting to have Jason be crucified in a fic, which has everything to do with deep thought-off developed symbolism analysis meta and nothing to do with the fact that I like horror and was terrified of being crucified when i was a child

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.