#kaleidoscope propaganda

[xxnugg3tqu33nxx]

I am a kaleidoscope enjoyer. Is it because I’m the Midas Apologist TM and I want Midas to be happy and gay? Yes- HOWEVER, they’re both perfect.

Just two silly lil rainbow gays. And I love and need them in my life.

Vote kaleidoscope, for the Midas Apologist TM (aka me) /nf

look at them, those lil rainbow gays. They’re perfect and deserve love.

[the-sunshine-dims]

Headcanon that after quixis Midas has a lot of trouble getting used to having brown hair again, so Malitae dyes it for them! (not permanently, just a bunch of different colors so when their appearance feels unfamiliar it can be a trace of unfamiliarity that doesn't settle poorly in Midas's gut)

At the end of each hair-dying session Malitae always refers to Midas as their greatest work :]

[xxnugg3tqu33nxx]

vote kaleidoscope chat, do it

Vote kaleidoscope!

Even my cat endorses kaleidoscope!

Btw her name is jenga and she's my baby

[web-novel-polls]

Writing propaganda is so difficult for me bc, like, how do I even begin to show it better than lines like “You are the breath-taking view of mountains and lakes in the remaining years of my life, the rising clouds tinged in sunset colours. Now and forever, I will keep on loving you a little more” (4 o’clock flower) or “He loved him so much, missed him so much, he missed him in the barracks, he missed him in battle. In the depths of his shattered memories, he loved him, thought of him, missed him.” (Yuwu) or “If it’s with you, if I can be together with you… I am fearless.” (Where is Our Agreement to Be Arch-Rivals?) or “Only after having met you did I discover that its such a simple thing to be happy” (TGCF) or “In this life, you will be the only one in my heart. In the next life, and the life after that, I will forever remember you, so long as my soul hasn’t scattered.” (Qi Ye) or “To place my life in your hands, even if my end is death, it is something I’ll never regret” (Peerless) or “You are just like my reverse scale. You live, I live. You are my life. Therefore, no matter how difficult things are in the future, or how arduous life becomes, I want you to live” (Nan Chan) or “As long as this ending can be changed, I am willing to die for him a thousand times” (Mist) or “I fantasize about seeing my reflection in your eyes on day, just one look, I’ll be willing to do anything that is asked of me, even pulverizing my body and shattering my bones no matter how many times…” (LHJC) or “Whatever he wants, I’ll give it to him. If he wants my life, I’ll stake my life for him… there’s no betrayal to be had.” (Liu Yao) or “I will always be with you. Life or death, I will bring you home” (2ha) or “This love has always been doomed. Yet, knowing that it’s perpetual doom, that it’s infinite destruction, the moths still throw themselves into the fire until they meet their very deaths” (Cold Sands) or “I hope that you will hate me all your life” (Golden Stage) or “Won’t you turn back and look at me? If you turn back and look at me just one time, even if you were to ask me to climb up to the roof and jump off, I’ll do it.” (GuoMen) or “Whereas Ruan Nanzhu sat at his side, gazing at Lin Qiushi with admiration in his eyes, his whole look a litany of I love you I love you I love you” (Kaleidoscope of Death), or…

[ya-boi-haru]

Headcanon the when Malitae first met Mixis, it was through glitching on the builds Icarus had done.

Once they left, Quixis wacked the sword build to be red and black (decay) as a "screw that".

Malitae obviously noticed and slowly began talking to them, working out the blocks meaning.

Eventually Malitae try to ask for their name and Midas tried to tell them.

The blocks glitched from grey wool, to gold but settled on Quartz.

They both realised that communicating a name would be tricky, but Malitae just nicknamed them Quartz, or Q, since Quartz kept appearing whenever Malitae tried to ask them questions about themselves.

[fable-non-canon-ship-bracket]

Round 4 Match 1

Kaleidoscope - Midas and Malitae (romantic relationship)

Ariboo - Arisanna and Momboo(romantic relationship)

Propaganda under the cut

Propaganda:

-Kaleidoscope (r):

Cute rainbow gods!! Malitae creates, Quixis changes <3. They do art together.

uh. quixis deserves to kiss someone. they deserve to be so so soft and maybe hold hands and perhaps kiss. also because kaleidoscope is an *amazing* ship name and I hold it so gently

Quixis deserves a happy relationship and Malitae can give that. also i want them to make fun of icarus together.

they are shapes and colors !!!! the way they perfectly fit together, Quixis's wack and Malitae seeing that itself as art and thinking its fun, doing art together !!! the way they are both isolated, Quixis by a dimension, and Malitae by a hidden-away island, and they can act as a comfort to eachother !! Q can be amazed by M's art, and all of their creations, and M can listen to Q, they can just exist, and they can do it together in a world that may be falling apart, but they can laugh !! they can make each other laugh!!

-Ariboo(r)

lets go lesbians! lets go lesbians!

Sun and moon yuri

THEY ARE THE SUN!! AND THE MOON!! the book club romance of it all, the Ari finding Momboo's presense comforting of it all, and Momboo the same, and the idea that had vexed Ari visited, Momboo would've probably just been happy to see her again, even if she was different, and snarky in a way that she wasnt before. they are doomed yuri!!

[kombuuuu]

miles deflecting is so GOOD he makes me ILL!!!!!! i love ur writing <3 do u think we cld have like a short continuation 4 it?

Deflecting on you.

42!Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

“Would you hurt me?” “Never again.”

continuation to this C:

im infecting people with the 42!Miles propaganda cough cough 🗣️ ly2 pookie (also this is definitely not short)

A few days had passed now, and Miles had stayed his previous level of civil, bordering caring, with you.

He wasn’t glad with how easy he had let the two other kids get off. But when they were reduced to cowering forms in darkened corners whenever he was around, it brought a pinch of justice, pride to his chest. Although, James had a rather decent punishment, in his opinion.

Word had gone around that he’d gone insane, smashed his head against a desk in an old , deserted classroom until he’d passed out. Mangled his own skull, intended to stab someone, but couldn’t get up from the damage to his own self.

A tip to the cops surveying the scene, and the rumour was spread a little wider.

He had been wary with you, from the moment you both sat staring at the city life below you, in his bed.

In his room, his house with his Ma just outside. The domesticity of the moment making the ache in his lungs suffocate his heart. Squeezing and pumping out as much blood as it could, heart rate trying to keep up with the lack of air.

He’d thought back to it too often in the mere days since occurrence for him to simply brush it off, but he sure tried.

—

He tapped the rubber of his pencil along his desk, staring at the page below him. The words being said had been drowned out by his racing mind, something he fully knows would get him in trouble eventually for “lack of effort”. But it was maths, there wasn’t a single thing being told that he didn’t already know.

What had his current attention, was the faint sketch of you on his gridded paper. He hadn’t meant to draw it, he’d just—, spaces out and it was there when he snapped back.

Now he was at a standstill with himself, use the currently tapping eraser to get rid of the drawing, or live with the faint lines hidden between pages. It was obvious, rub it out. But the thing, the most difficult aspect—,

—Was how utterly gorgeous the drawing was.

How your hair framed the page, the shape of your eyes being shaded in led. The soft look you’d given him that night being practically pulled from his mind and placed on the cheap paper. He’d recreated it perfectly, he could feel the apprehension, the uncertainty.

But despite how bitter those words sounded, uncertainty was still consideration.

You were considering him. Not as an enemy, or a nuisance — as a stranger.

You can get to know a stranger.

You can get to know him.

Miles closed his eyes and groaned under his breath, rolling eyes at the hope rising in the back of his neck.

He flicked to the next page, promising to never open to it again.

If it ended up cut out of his book, folded neatly and stuffed in the hidden latch of his desk drawer, no one but him would know.

—

You hadn’t forgive him, of course you hadn’t — you’re not that naïve.

He hurt you, cause you an entire season of torment, sleepless night and stress filled days.

You tried to stay quiet, like you always had. Passing by crowds unnoticed and surfing under the noise with a cotton stuffed ear.

And he’d started a ruining of that.

Trying not to draw attention to yourself, despite him so clearly trying to put you in spotlight.

This whole ordeal was a domino effect from that damn kaleidoscope, and he was just another finger flicking the next tile.

Until he wasn’t.

And he’d near killed a man for you. Taken care of you, feared for your life.

He’d found you, from nothing but a gut feeling.

The way he would stare now, was less vindictive. His gaze no longer that of anger but of a man conflicted. Like he couldn’t tell what to think of you.

You lay over your ruffled sheets, quilt and bedding under you to not overheat yourself. You window was wide open, airing out your humid room. The soft sway of leaves sprouting from the vines crawling over your building was pleasant. Digging their roots in the crevices of your window sill like Miles had been digging into the crevices of your mind.

You put a hand over your head, stretching your back up and listening the the crack that came from it.

Dropping back down and huffing, you continued to watch your ceiling in mild disinterest, trying desperately to reach the essence of sleep, and let the way Miles’ lips curled into a smirk fall from your mind.

He hadn’t realised it, but his small rebuttal to your teasing that night in his room had made a permanent statement in your head, no longer able to forget about it.

“No, just you —,” Your mind hadn’t cared to supply the rest.

Every single thing about that scarring night had burned its way into your temporal lobe. Like giving it a searing kiss with memory stained lipstick.

A small clicking had caught your attention, like fingernails tapping glass. The clinks were rhythmic, had the coordination of a spiders legs.

Your focus on the plain ceiling was now broken, a curiosity replacing it.

You approached the open window without caution, Moonlight spilling through the glossy panes. Placing your hands on the sill, you leaned forward, and felt the small rush of wind over your shoulders, the breeze cooling your heated face. An urge to close your eyes and take it in almost over-reigned that new curiosity, but your self preservation thought better of it. Checking left and right either side as if someone was going to be waiting right there for you. Because that was a completely rational and not at all ludicrous thought. You scoffed to yourself, glancing at the skyline with glistening eyes before turning and heading back inside, to finally — maybe, fall asleep.

—

Miles released a quiet breath, braids swaying from his suspended position hanging from a rooftop. Your rooftop, of your building—.. Where he was watching you. It was coincidence, really. That somehow, running from guys he stole a cure his Momma needed for a patient from. And when grappling from building to building, using clips and hooks and zip lines to get away from them, he’d stumbled into your street.

He’d lie to himself and say it was just the street his Ma’s favourite Paella was made, but the one time he’d seen you, exhausted from school—, drag yourself into an apartment across the street from that very place..

His opinion hadn’t changed, so to speak. But there was an added motive, that’s it.

And he’s hiding, it’s not his fault if your apartment is high up. Or his need to see you is growing at alarming rates, or his heart was beating so loud in his ears that he hadn’t heard you approach the window.

So when your fingers had softly scraped along the sill of your window, he’d pulled himself above you — and prayed you wouldn’t look up.

You hadn’t, thankfully.

He’d watched the way your skin had shone under the city lights, your features illuminated and accentuated by the chaos the streets. You were so unbothered—, so calm, even amidst everything he (and everyone else) had put you through.

Like a stubborn stone keeping the whole wall from collapsing.

His admiration for you had grown, not only from the past months — which he realises is slightly sadistic — but from your tenderness that had only lasted mere minutes. Even the glimpse of a softer you, not the one covered in a satiated rage, hands squeezing lemons until the bitterness dripped not from the fruit broken skin, but from your own. The sting of acid only making your bloodied finger feel more justified.

Not that.

What he saw was a woman free of woes, no need to split her skin when her heart was already so vulnerable.

And he craved for a mere glimpse of that again.

Like old, your anger had satisfied him. Gave him those doses of you he’d fiend for, and had excited him to no end. Now, he’s found something stronger.

He can’t let you go.

He watches you scoff at yourself, his mask retracting from his face. You look towards the city’s edge one last time before turning and making your way back inside.

He sighs, adjusting his position on the buildings ledge, and grabs the waterspout running the side of the building, crawling back to the shadows.

His claws clink, like nails tapping glass.

—

There wasn’t a day of peace in the last fortnight.

You were still suffering the effects of your previous injuries. People knowing that something had gone down between you and James, seeing as he hadn’t showed up in two weeks. And the near-healed bruises on your face were a well indicator of your involvement.

So when you stumbled upon Keith, someone you’d basically owed your still-intact-body too, scrambling out of an alley. Bloodied and bruised, nose broken and face almost as busted as your was that day. Safe to say you weren’t exactly confused to what was happening.

He looked up, eyes meeting yours almost eerily fast, the blood from his nose coating his teeth a deep crimson. A sick chill ran down your spine and you stumbled back. A wet gasp for breath was heard, diverting your attention towards its gruesome origin.

Turning your body towards the darkened alley, vision blurring at the edges. Your breath escaped you.

Keith had started speaking, and over the ringing in your ears he’d begged for your forgiveness, scraping his knees while he clawed to get away from his friends continuous spluttered coughing.

“What—..”

Mathew was lying on the floor, avidly trying to protect himself using only his bare hands. While a figure you could only see the back of punched in a strict, repeated pattern — like they’d done this before.

“Miles?”

The man whipped his head towards you, blood dripping down a cut on his cheekbone, and a snarl over his face.

Said contortion quickly smoothened out, a rather *confronted look replacing it.

Keith was long gone by now, having dragged his bloodied body away from whatever mess you were now a part of.

“Chiquita, don’t freak out.”

The way your lungs seemed to refuse oxygen kind of refuted that command.

You were frozen still, eyes stuck on the barely conscious body beneath the subject of your recent intrigue.

Mathew was barely recognisable, eyes puffed up in bruises and bloodied flesh. Miles had taken near no damage compared to the other men.

“[Name], c’mon.” He was getting up now, shuffling off his opponent with a tone of apprehension.

Only when his movement shifted your frozen eyes, did you see the key details you’d missed.

Braids, Nikes, Jacket, Collar, Claws.

A spray painted logo you’d only ever seen one man branding.

The Prowler.

"No te precipites, Ma."

“Don’t act rash, Ma.”

Right as the endearment left his mouth, you turned on your heel and ran.

"[Name], Por dios — quedate aquí."

“[Name]! Oh my god — stay there.”

He waved nonchalantly to the definitely not-going-anywhere boy on the floor. Shifting his foot back and jumping at a wall, claws digging in and gripping the ledge to the roof, swinging himself over it and keeping the momentum in a run.

Darting through corner stalls and confused pedestrians, you tripped over yourself to get away.

A strong, persistent mantra of ‘Holy fuck.’ was circling through the forefront of your mind, and yet everything else was hyper aware.

Not a fault in your step as your grace seemed to come out in times of dire panic, like a dancer following their cues, every movement made around you was an instructors yell.

You turned into the alley leading to your apartment, a shortcut, when you heard someone drop down behind you. You spun around, fast enough to dizzy yourself, and gave one look to the neon mask of the vigilante before going to run again. A small noise of panic escaped your shaking form.

“No corras, por favor!”

“Don’t run, please!”

Your heart beat fast, reaching the door to your apartment complex, swiping your key card and launching yourself inside, the scuffle of shoes being heard just outside the slammed shut door.

“Please, [Name], let me in. We can talk this out, Ma.”

Miles begged, knocking on the complexs’ back door.

"They were gonna jump you, [Name].”

“I don’t believe you.”

Your voice came out shaking, confused and *scared. You’d known he’d been capable of violence. It was adamant in the way he wouldn’t flinch at a hit, or the scars that coated his exposed skin.

But this? A man who’s killed people? Who was going to do it again had you not been a witness.

“I—“ You whined, voice giving out and tears finally breaking the surface of your waterline. “I’ve seen you—,” The back of your head hit the metal door and you sobbed silently. “,—On the news.”

Outside the thin steel, Miles sighed, guilt weighing his chest down heavy. He got sloppy, and paid the price. His anger, rage toward these men. And what they’d planned to do to you — he’d say it was justified. You’d say it was monstrous.

“You kill people, Miles.”

His heart broke at the tone of your voice, the quiet sniffles and shortened sobs. The way your voice cracked and broke under the pressure of your open heart.

“Ma, I—“

“I don’t wan’ hear it.”

His hands rest on the cooled metal, forehead pressing against it as he sighed.

“Please let me in.”

“I can’t.”

“[Name]. Chiquita, por favor.”

He’d begged, ready to get on his knees and stand out in the 40° (104°) heat, and wait until you opened the door. Even if it took days.

Although,

“I’ll break in.”

“Wha—,” you cut yourself off in a sobbing laugh, rubbing at your tear tracked face. “Miles, That’s not a very good bargaining chip.”

He smiled, closing his eyes and loving the sweetened tone you held. You weren’t scared of him, you were scared of the Prowler.

“‘Made you laugh.”

His accent thickened over the words, dragging them out in a rasping hush. Something only for you to hear.

Your resolve was breaking, lungs slowing to a calmed lull as the adrenaline left your body. You didn’t break though— couldn’t.

“I can’t—,” You looked to the ceiling of your apartment’s ground floor, standing in an empty back room. “,—You’re not good, Miles.”

“You helped them, before.” Your brows furrowed, not of anger, but of betrayed desperation.

“You.. You just watched—“

“I know, baby, I know.”

He opened his eyes again, staring at the door like it had attacked you.

“Go upstairs, yeah?”

“Why—“

“Just go on, Ma.”

You huffed out a slow breath, fight draining from your being. You wanted to yell, to scream at him how wrong of a man he was. How he couldn’t risk everything he had for you, not now. Not as the estranged people you were.

You wanted to show the anger you never could, reach that brink of anguish until you’d finally given him what he’d wanted since your moment of meeting. But he no longer wanted that.

He’d always wanted you to break, now he just wants you.

“Okay.” You were breathless and tired, coerced.

He lifted his head quickly, hands splayed against cooled metal curling into fists, an excitement running through him like that of a promise.

—

A minute later you were opening the door to your apartment, and locking it behind you. Anxiously making your way to your bedroom, worried to see what was inside, When you stepped inside, you weren't exactly surprised when your eyes landed on Miles' face, what had surprised you though — was that he was hanging off your window sill with a sheepish smile on his face.

"Now will you let me in?" His voice muffled through the glass and you breathed out a quick gasp, "You— Miles, get down!"

"Down?" He smirked, letting one of his hands drop from the wooden sill. "Oh my god!"

You rushed towards your window, discarding your phone on your bed carelessly. You slid your window up, as Miles laughed, swaying from his one hand. "Jesus Miles— are you trying to kill yourself?!"

He crawled through and you grabbed his free hand, dragging him inside. "Get—.. get." Giving up on your scolding half way through, you quickly ushered him towards your bed and turned to close your window.

"When you said 'Go up.' I didn't think yo—"

"I'm sorry.'

Your hands were left floating above your windowsill, shaking in still air. Miles had come up behind you, hands resting over your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt. His face lowered towards your ear voice dipping with it.

"I know you're mad— hate me, all that. 'S okay. I know—,"

He slowly moved his arms further around your waist, watching your breath hitch and the feel of your pulse under the blow of his breath.

",—And I'm sorry."

"I don't hate you."

"You don't hate anyone."

You relaxed into his hold, tears brimming forth again.

"You keep—" "Scaring you." "Yeah." He dragged his left hand down, trailing his fingers over the skin of your arms and watching as the bumps rose along your flesh. You were entrancing.

"Are you scared now, Mami?" He grabbed your wrist in a gentle hold, swiping his bloodied thumb over your smooth skin. Your hand twitched, and his thumb stopped.

"No." You flipped your hand into his, linking your fingers together, careful to not agitate his bruises.

"Would you hurt me?" He reciprocated, closing his fist over your own, the flick of pain felt like nothing— not when the aching in his chest was finally being calmed.

"Never again."

—

DUDE MY PHONE IS FUCKING BROKEN LOLLL

no ending image today im on my laptop (fucking cries)

translator (bbg) @sataraxia

taglist!! @red-riot-rat , @stvrfir3 , @erensbbg , @umawooma , @wisteriaflowersss , @inejsknifes , @meowsannie , @manduse , @rainy-darling , @riya1161 , @key-zee , @toasttew , @em711 , @starsval , @gemma42 , @lovelymiaablogs

[ohdorothea]

This tournament is being run by and for queer fans so please keep that in mind! Homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More polls here and more info and lyrics for the songs under the cut!!

🫶🫶🫶

The question is which song is queerer to you! Queerer can mean whatever you want it to mean; you might consider a song queer because you think it was written that way, or because of Swiftian lore. It might be queer to you because of how you relate it to your own life. Maybe you think from a purely literary standpoint the lyrics have queer themes; maybe you're just thinking about vibes!!!

If you’d like to send in interpretations or propaganda for a specific song you can send them to my inbox! All interpretations are welcome and let’s be open and kind in response to all interpretations <3

🫶🫶🫶

Welcome To New York lyrics

Walkin' through a crowd, the village is aglow

Kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats under coats

Everybody here wanted something more

Searching for a sound we hadn't heard before

And it said

Welcome to New York

It's been waiting for you

Welcome to New York

Welcome to New York

Welcome to New York

It's been waiting for you

Welcome to New York

Welcome to New York

It's a new soundtrack

I could dance to this beat, beat forever more

The lights are so bright

But they never blind me, me

Welcome to New York

It's been waiting for you

Welcome to New York

Welcome to New York

When we first dropped our bags on apartment floors

Took our broken hearts, put them in a drawer

Everybody here was someone else before

And you can want who you want

Boys and boys and girls and girls

Welcome to New York

It's been waiting for you

Welcome to New York

Welcome to New York

Welcome to New York

It's been waiting for you

Welcome to New York

Welcome to New York

It's a new soundtrack

I could dance to this beat, beat forever more

The lights are so bright

But they never blind me, me

Welcome to New York (New York)

It's been waiting for you

Welcome to New York

Welcome to New York

Like any great love, it keeps you guessing

Like any real love, it's ever changing

Like any true love, it drives you crazy

But you know you wouldn't change

Anything, anything, anything

Welcome to New York

It's been waiting for you

Welcome to New York

Welcome to New York

Welcome to New York

It's been waiting for you

Welcome to New York

Welcome to New York

It's a new soundtrack

I could dance to this beat

The lights are so bright

But they never blind me (Welcome to New York)

New soundtrack

It's been waiting for you (Welcome to New York)

The lights are so bright

But they never blind me (Welcome to New York)

So bright they never blind me (Welcome to New York)

Welcome to New York

🫶🫶🫶

I Know Places lyrics

I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I

I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I

I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I

You stand with your hand on my waistline

It's a scene and we're out here in plain sight

I can hear them whisper as we pass by

It's a bad sign, bad sign

Something happens when everybody finds out

See the vultures circling, dark clouds

Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out

It could burn out

'Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes and guns

They are the hunters, we are the foxes and we run

Baby, I know places we won't be found

And they'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I, I know places we can hide

I know places, I know places

Lights flash and we'll run for the fences

Let them say what they want, we won't hear it

Loose lips sink ships all the damn time

Not this time

Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it, my love

They are the hunters, we are the foxes, and we run

Baby, I know places we won't be found

And they'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I, I know places we can hide

I know places

They are the hunters, we are the foxes, and we run

Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it, my love

Baby, I know places we won't be found

And they'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I, I know places we can hide

I know places

They take their shots, but we're bulletproof (I, I know places)

And you know for me, it's always you (Hide, I know places)

In the dead of night, your eyes so green (I, I know places)

And I know for you, it's always me (Hide, I know places)

I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I

I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I

[hils79]

Hils Watches The Spirealm - Ep 4

Aww, look. He solved the game with empathy and kindness. He's a good boy.

Wibbly wobbly timey wimey. And, you know, if I thought their relationship was fast burn before it's even faster now. Found himself a boyfriend and got engaged in 15 minutes. Good for him!

I mean multiple people told him this would happen so I don't know why he's surprised. Excellent whump potential though.

Everyone: don't play the cursed game Ling Jiushi: I'm gonna play the cursed game

Dude. How many times do people have to tell you that this game can kill you?

Is it even a modern cdrama without a bit of anti-America propaganda thrown in

Oh FFS I only just learned his name and now I have to learn his new name 😂

Ruan Lanzhu and Shen Wei can bond over semi-creepily watching the boy they like sleeping

Oh is it time to meet the team? Are they going to become a family?

Of course she is

Oh. Hello.

Oh, I'm sure they'll be attached to him by the end

OMG there's twins! Is one of them evil?

I'm assuming this is some sort of pun or reference that I don't understand

Oh, excellent. More wound tending.

He literally looks one second away from grabbing him and kissing. Again, this is only episode 4/38

I'm pretty sure he doesn't want you to join his team for your skills as a gamer

Ooh is that the kaleidoscope of death?

He's like 'literally everyone told you that if you die in the game you die in real life'. I am surprised it took so long though. I kind of assumed that if you died in the game you'd just die in real life immediately but it's been a least a couple of days since they solved the game.

Ooh are they going to get trapped in an elevator together?

*sighs in DMBJ* It's always magnets

[xenoblade-chronicles-brackets]

Submitted propaganda for Kaleidoscopic Core

THEY TOOK THE SONG ABOUT BEING SCARED OF SHOWING YOUR TRUE SELF AND TURNED IT INTO A BATTLE THEME THAT GOES SO HARD THE TRANSGENDER THEME OF ALL TIME!!!!!!!!!!!

The OG catgirl finally gets her happy ending.

Flora heals an aching soul

How did they turn the most emotional song from Xenoblade 2 into a battle theme and make it work????

Argentum (Night) is a Mod Addition

[the-sunshine-dims]

the promised kaleidoscope thoughts- because hey do you ever think that maybe Malitae would've been scared of being forgotten- about the fact that so secluded from the pantheon they were apart of (for their safety) during a war they already died in, one day they must've realized that Vikesh hadn't been back in a while,

do you ever think about how they absolutely spent most of the resets alone, maybe with the presence of Epros but Epros is not the kind of audience they need, the kind of company,

do you ever think about how they are absolutely sure they are unforgettable, but maybe their still afraid, everyone, even gods are sometimes still afraid, a deep seated anxiety at the very back of xyr mind, scared the Fenris will forget them and stop coming back, that Caspian and Rae might, and most terrifyingly, Midas might.

They are sure their unforgettable... but hes still more confident that even if their forgotten, if they create things so magnificent- so spectacular- those won't be forgotten, and that's- something.

do you ever think about Midas being there to help, maybe they don't even know about the fear at first, or maybe their able to pick it up (so many of the sherberts are so afraid of being alone, being forgotten, its a familiar feeling)

about the wack serving as a reminder, a promise, a lingering mark, a reminder they hold of Quixis (because they've long since been torn from any reminder of Vikesh) and despite the hesitance, Midas takes any gifted craft their given, even if their hesitant that the wack will spread to it (there's only so long something not supposed to be in the world port can be there unaffected, but still taking it with the promise it'll be cherished

Thinking about, Malitae making so many gifts for Midas, jewelry, art, knit and crocheted creations, anything that they put their hand into creating, and thinking about it culminating with a joking "who could forget this" while showing off a recent creation and Midas immediately responding with "Not me"

[villainsally]

"Are you sure you want to do this masterpiece? I know your time there was less than ideal"

"I know, but it's how I met you. And...another friend. Im sure."

[the-rat-child]

ok so we know all the abigail and haley animations to Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan

so it got me thinkingggggg

Stardew Valley Bachelor(ettes) and their Chappell Roan Song

(+ animation ideas and/or why)

(according to me)

Bachelors:

Alex: HOT TO GO! He is hot to go and just picture him in that outfit from the single cover he would pick up a diner job after realizing gridball isn't gonna work

Elliott: Picture You It's not rocket science to think he'd be a romantic that can't say jackshit He'd be absolutely enamored with the farmer but not be able to express anything

Harvey:

Coffee He would be the type to be stuck in a fwb situation despite being in love with someone also the jazz bar line and the fact that it's about coffee and wine (bonus: when he has his headphones on it's just Stuck In Manhattan on loop)

Sam: After Midnight He's with Abi and Sebby at the bar and this is his bi panic he is in love with both of his friends yes this is A.S.S. trio propaganda

Sebastian: California I imagine a situation where he leaves Pelican Town, but is unhappy in the city since it's stagnant and lacks the charm of his hometown

Shane: Love Me Anyway This one for me was a no-brainer, he's so mean but the farmer loves him through it

Bachelorettes:

Abigail: Guilty Pleasure She's canonically dirty-minded and the fun vibes really give it her spunk

Emily: Causal Emily and Shane propaganda but definitely while he's fighting his addiction he wants no strings attached that doesn't end well but shane's an actual man and realizes the errors of his ways

Haley: Good Luck, Babe! .... no shit

Leah: Femininomenon She'd definitely be the one to fail with online love hit it like rom pom pom pom get it hot like papa john make a bitch go on and on it's a femininomenon that's leah energy baby

Maru: My Kink Is Karma Farmer break up scenario but she'd be pissed about it especially since her breakup dialogue is very "fuck you and eat shit but I'm better than you"

Penny: Kaleidoscope Same as Maru but she'd be sad about it instead

[iforgotwhaticalledthis]

Soop actually does writing and delivers her promises??? Anyway heres a sequel to my previour kaleidoscope date fic- that i promised as propaganda

[ya-boi-haru]

Non-Canon voting propaganda:

My Kaleidoscope Pinterest board

Vote Kaleidoscope

[vaspider]

re the ai art thing: there are absolutely some shitty things going on with ai art at the moment, but i feel like this whole thing would benefit from more clarity on the bad actors involved so that arguments could be meaningfully directed at them instead of the nebulous concept of "ai art". i suspect elon musk's name is being used as a buzzword here - while he was one of many founders of openai, he resigned from the company before things like gpt and dall-e even came into existence, so i find posts that talk as though he's still actively involved to be suspect. second, it's entirely possible for an ai art generator to create something thats no more derivative of existing work than a human using it as inspiration. i agree it's still not 100% ethically pure, but at that point it sort of becomes a philosophical debate, not a practical one. a lot of ai art bots DO use significant parts of work, though, and the medical photo story would be horrifying even if ai art wasn't involved - these are specific bad actors, specific people who put private photos into the public domain, specific people who don't do the due diligence in making sure their model doesn't violate the copyright and forgery boundaries we already have in place, specific users who choose to generate derivative art for unethical purposes, and aiming this very justified anger at them is likely to bring about a lot more positive change.

No, Elon Musk's name is being used because he has a very long and very loud history of thinking he shouldn't need to credit artists or writers and that he should be able to use anything in any way he wants and people should be grateful that he did. That context is very important when talking about the intention behind the Tech Bro Collage Machine.

Second, no. It is not possible for an AI to create anything that isn't 100% derivative. There are a few reasons for this:

"AI," that is, actual artificial intelligence, does not exist. This is not nitpicking terminology, this is extremely important and crucial. What we are talking about isn't a brain. It doesn't think. It doesn't create. It cannot create. We may wish to think that it can create - humans love to wonder and we love to anthropomorphize everything, but no. Calling it "AI" is a branding decision, and propaganda. It isn't fact. AI doesn't create anything, first of all, because AI doesn't exist.

Tech-Bros Discover Collages™️ is a program. An algorithm. It does not create any more than a paint mixer creates purple paint when the Home Depot worker puts red and blue paint into a can and loads it into the paint mixer. All it can do it take what it is given and smash it together over and over and over again. And that is - in a very simplistic but also very real way - all that TBDCs do.

I'm very sorry, but androids do not yet dream of electric sheep, computers don't think, and comparing the pixel output of a machine that's just as likely to barf put a man with three fingers growing out of his cheek as it is a "masterpiece" that, if you unfocus your eyes and ignore the watermark artifacts and look past the weird smeary edges and all of the other tells, almost looks kinda like it's not AI art to the output of an actual working artist is absolutely facile. I genuinely cannot believe that people are actually making this argument. Like, I really can't. No, the computer isn't thinking and it can't actually create anything. You're playing with an extremely complicated kaleidoscope loaded with millions of dollars worth of stolen art, intended to help billionaires further defraud everyone else by replacing artists with digital garbage. That's it. That's all. It is nothing more. It cannot be anything more.

I really do wonder what people think is going to happen, here. Do y'all really think this is going to do anything but make it impossible for small artists to make money?

People are already selling "prompts lists" on Etsy as if that is original art, which it is not. People who have gotten really good at playing with the kaleidoscope have gone on long huffy rants about how they shouldn't have to reveal their prompts because they put work into coming up with that specific prompts list... all written without a shred of self-awareness or realization of irony.

I genuinely don't want the answer, here, because as a working artist, I am really exhausted of people trying to defend the destruction of the livelihood I've poured myself into, and the destruction of my friends' livelihoods, too, but I want you to ask yourself (quietly, in your head, and if you want to post about it, do it on your blog, don't put it here) what you think the end result of all of this is going to be.

Do you think this is going to result in some grand new wave of art democratization? It will not. Do you think computers can really create? They cannot. Or do you think instead this is going to lead to a lot of artists no longer being able to find sufficient work as the Fiverr/Uber/Amazonification of everything combined with AI art means that a lot of the meat-and-potatoes commissions and art jobs dry up, because why would you pay someone $100 to draw you a really original picture of your OC with their hours of labor and years of experience when you can get Midjourney to make you one in minutes ✨️for free✨️?

While y'all are busy talking about how computers are doing something not at all different from the human mind (lol), you're hammering the livelihood of a lot of people into the ground, duped by the same people currently burning Twitter to the ground, lighting piles of money on fire as crypto, and minting NFTs. This is just the next thing in a long line of tech bro scams.

Stop falling for it. You're fucking shit up and I'm tired.