#ignore me its just me and the voices

[ellearts]

Guess who tops

Hint its not that blond freak

[tenebrous-dream]

girl calm down youre just joining an idol group 😭😭

[vaguely-humanoid-form]

not a lot, just forever

intertwined, sewn together

[chiquilines]

I have compeltely lost it🥳

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i need to compile a list of scenes that wouldnt make sense if saiki wasnt telepathically speaking in them because people directly respond to what he "thinks", because its actually starting to piss me off how many people insist that he doesnt talk to his friends at all

[juaneloriginal]

silly thingy

@blackkatdraws's sillies

[xxplastic-cubexx]

thinkin bout magneto's lil list of aliases from that One Shot of his government file or w/e in 97 and how it lists the three main men who've played him (David Hemblen, Ian McKellen, Michael Fassbender) and kinda cackling at the idea 1.) if they included All his names 2.) having 'michael' on that list twice

[glitchfang]

fake idgafer. i saw you suddenly get the light in your eyes back when you became a fairy gym leader

[wish-i-were-heather]

i cant have an argument without crying wtf

[luna-the-cretar]

Watching Curse of Strahdanya, and falling in love with these ships and characters, is like watching the Hadestown musical to me.

In Hadestown, the first thing the narrator—Hermes—tells the audience is that this tale is a tragedy. There is no happy ending. And yet, as the show goes on, you forget that, somehow. But not fully. There’s still a little voice, lingering in the back of your mind, telling you that it’s always going to end horribly. And if you’re already familiar with the Greek myth, or the musical itself, then you know exactly how it’ll end. And yet, part of you still roots for Orpheus. To save Eurydice. To not turn around. To ignore the voices in his ear. To bring her home with him.

But. That’s not how the story goes. He always turns around. She always returns to Hadestown. And he always returns alone. And Hermes feels for the audience. He, too, yearns for there to be a day where the story changes, somehow. Of course, it won’t. That’s not how the story goes. But every time he tells the tale, some part of him yearns that maybe, just maybe, Orpheus won’t turn around. He would ignore the voices in his ear. He would bring Eurydice home. But he knows this is all in vain, for the tale is that of a tragedy, and it’ll always end the same.

Curse of Strahdanya is the same way. All the way to the title of the prologue; “The Cursed Expedition”. From the very beginning, they tell us that this tale is a tragedy. No matter what the characters do, no matter how strong they think they are, it will always end the same way. Their fates are set in stone. They will never leave, never get out. Strahdanya always wins.

And yet, the audience yearns for this telling to be different. Maybe if this character made a different choice, maybe if they convinced this character to stay, maybe…maybe…

But it always ends the same. It’s a sad tale. It’s a tragedy. Yet we tell it over and over again, as if maybe our heroes will get a happy ending this time

“To know how it ends/And still begin to sing it again/As if it might turn out this time”

[personshapedsplder]

i love the little moments where you can tell john is on his hands and KNEES for arthur's approval. when it becomes clear for a split second just how much he adores him

[vengefulvermin]

Can i get more passage of time/music development yapping ☹️☹️☹️??? I give you official permission to yap the most you can im so interested

YES YES YES YES YES I LOVE THIS ASK

warning beneath the cut SCARY WALL OF TEXT WARNING 😱

decided to divide it into colored parts if you dont gaf about certain elements 😭

second warning all of this is unedited rambling so some points might contradict each other or just plain not make sense.

okay so for CONTEXTTTTT

i have diagnosed OCD, and like, roughly since the end of last year and the beginning of this one, the 'obsession' part of OCD that was negatively affecting me, was the concept of time. how fleeting it was. how it's basically unescapable ALL THINGS MUST PASS (get out of my head george harrison) that shit proper cold dead SCARED ME MAN. sleepless & haunting me in my dreams type shi. sometimes it still does. i try not to think about it too much

to cope, i found great comfort in the 70s-80s since at the time i was and still am hyperfixated on david bowie and that was sort of his prime (love his 90s-00s work tho.) i was also starting to think of how much parallels and similar experiences i have to previous generations and how it's not ALL that bad after all so far. i can still walk to a record store and roller skate if i really wanted to, or go to a diner.

okey here's where the life changing stuff happens. i decided i'd listen to pink floyd's the dark side of the moon. then TIME CAME ON. ohhhh god oh gosh golly god i was bawling and everything the whole song spoke to me on a molecular level. then i found out about DB's song also called time, and i ALSO crode to that. i was like. wow. i'm not alone on this feeling of utter desperation and helplessness as eventually all things Must Pass. (GEORGE HARRSION GTFO)

i used to be bitchy on how i whined i was part of the 'wrong generation.' i thought i was alone, but virtually everyone of almost every era has thought this. somebody who lived my dream life wished they had what i have now.

that's when i started to lowkey realize the parallels and oneness of human experience. i could go to a club in the 70s, and (granted the infrastructure and music remains similar) i could today. nothing would change on how i perceive events. there is no color filter on the past. unless you got huge TVs and stuff all over your house, you could walk around, and think it's the 80s. AND IT'S BASICALLY THE 80s. the way your parents or any other gen Xer saw the world with their *eyes* (not counting the changes in buildings and stuff) is the same as you today pretty much.

i already really enjoy subcultures, and particularly how they evolve and adapt. the indomitable human spirit prevails no matter how gentrified or 'banned' things become. nowadays i feel like there is No Youth Subcultures. at least, none that will pass the test of time and be memorable enough to be remembered in the books. nobody's gonna go to their child and proudly say: "when i was your age, i was a chav" or something. and i credit this to the lack of creativity allowed in the wider music industry.

HEAR ME OUT this is because 90% of youth subcultures had everything to do with music. and now, everything must be palatable. to be clear there's nothing inherently wrong with that type of music, but to me it speaks no soul. it has no risks. contemporary pop music is very much formulaic and this is because now more than ever entertainment (this also applies to movies btw) is more of an investment than passion. I WILL SPECIFY.

music production is so vastly different genre to genre, and we're not letting it flourish because of how much short form content is valued nowadays. LET ME COOK.

tiktoks are formulaic. algorithms are formulaic. WE'RE GETTING SOMEWHERE. there must be an instant hook or rift in music if you want to 'go viral' as a musician. digitized fame doesn't mean SHIT (to me), since clearly monthly listeners don't equate real world fans. album sales are being replaced with streams, and because of how ASS spotify treats its artists, newer, less established acts need to GET ON THE GRIND INSTANTLY to earn Coin. that means that to be smart and work with the exploitative system they're given, they have to make albums filled with 1 minute 30 second songs. so you can technically give them the most amount of streams possible. i feel with this formulaic approach, you can't get 6 minute long gutwrenching guitar pieces. no more 4 minute drum solos, hell avant garde experimental works were 2 people shout their names out at each other for 20 minutes. THERE ARE NO MORE FRANK ZAPPAS.

i'm not going to be one of those sad assholes who claim there's 'no more good rock music' and how it'll never be the same. as corny as this is, the next beatles or nirvana could be right under our noses and we'll NEVER know because of how fame is distributed. it sucks to see a small band beg on tiktok for streams to kickstart their career. but this is what we gotta work with. if we want subcultures to be created and thrive, we gotta go looking underground again, except unlike in the past it's a kajillion times easier now AND everything gets gentrified in 2 tiktok weeks. but this is evolution. MUSIC EVOLUTION

the end honk shoo honk shoo (it's midnight)

[non-plutonian-druid]

[ID: Five and real person! Delores drawn as centaurs. Both of them are old; Five is commission era. As such, he's wearing a suit and tie, has a neat mustache, and short hair. His horse body is light grayish white. Delores is wearing a nonsensical evening gown, and her centaur body is a large red draft horse with light feathers. They are hugging each other tightly; Delores has to bend down to reach. End ID.]

old married couple <3

i dont have any canon basis for making Delores a draft horse but it brings me joy and there was no chance I was ever going to do anything else. she deserves to be Tall. Also, am contributing one more old Delores to the world, an even rarer creature than old Five.

[gorgynei]

grin grin grin grin grin grin. grinn grinn listenn grin getting on t best thing ive ever done in my entire life grin

[unimportantweirdo]

ITS TAKEN ME ABOUT 30-ISH HOURS AND ABOUT 6000 RHINESTONES BUT

I FINISHED MY GGUM HOODIE

[butchdiaz]

hiii i wrote this way way back after 5x10 aired from buck's perspective and finally got around to making a little demo that i don't hate :') lyrics under the cut!

lyrics:

your blood on my face splattered like rain on the sidewalk your hand reaching out lips trying to form the shape of my name

i could see it right then the shape of my life without you i knew i would hate it more than anything

ten years ago bloody bruised cheek on the pavement ears ringing out i’ve never felt so alone

five years ago driving across a new state line every four months like my body knew it needed to be where you are

you built me a home here i let you touch me in places that nobody else would dare to

you built me into your life behind my back just in time to take your exit what am i supposed to do with that?

your blood in my mouth stuck to my gums like molasses i still taste your death when i jolt awake at night, covered in sweat

and i still feel the rain fall like bullets the night that i tried to dig you out i swear i will dig us out of here and we’ll be alright

you gave me a home here i let you save me in ways i thought nobody would ever care to

you wrote me into your life then turned your back you know i would never reject it but would it kill you to ask?

in the doorway, waiting by phone just out of reach, just shy of alone but you know me, i’ll never leave you can’t hit the ground if you never let go

so i’ll take this, i’ll lap up this scraps i’ll fake fulfillment until i collapse and you know me, heart on my sleeve i swear i’ve been screaming, “please don’t leave”

guess you didn’t hear that

you built me a home here i let you touch me

you built me into your life behind my back just in time to take your exit what am i supposed to do with that?