#wait ill make a new post

[dockaspbrak]

Have you guys ever listened to the soundtrack of Phantom Thread? Like 4 songs on that album make me want to cry. Sandalwood I in particular rn. Jfc

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

come get yer juice (aka some 'stocks i never posted </3)

[bunnieswithknives]

OH MY GOD??? HAS IT SERIOUSLY BEEN A MONTH????? I am so sorry guys

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[pcktknife]

lightcone edits according to some headcanons I have of these 3. originals and alts under the cut 👇🏾

no blood/uncovered eye alts for boothill/sampo

[ch1zzie]

The original in the bottom

Plus the picture I mainly drew but decided to draw the rest for funny

[todayisafridaynight]

[bubacorn]

hc: Vessel is bad at receiving compliments and being told that he is loved (hug inspired by this one, @ghxstly-death put it into words perfectly. thank you, Eden!🫂)

Thinking about Vessel who can't accept compliments, not because he doesn't believe them (that too), but because he'd heard them so many times in the past related to small, unimpressive things. Not 'I'm proud of you', just 'You did good', an automatic response to any and all achievements. He did good. He didn't know what 'good' meant, but apparently, he did that. He has no idea what was good about what he did, so he continues to push himself, to not be a disappointment. If he does good, then that should be enough, right?

He tries for great, for excellent, for something more, but he always gets 'good', unrelated to the effort and time he put into something. He knows he shouldn't wish for more specific compliments, or anything else, really. He should be grateful to be regarded. Everyone around him is so busy, they can't possibly have time to listen to him talk about how in reality, he has no idea what he's doing. How things sometimes just click but he can't tell if what he did is actually worth anything or it was just pure luck. How he doubts himself at every step but learned to hide it, because he has to be good. And good means coping and dealing with things by himself and quietly, because then he will be told that he did good and who wouldn't want to be good?

Vessel who hears 'I love you' for the first time (said with actual love behind it for the very first time) in a really long time from II. He wouldn't tell the other that, but it's clear from the surprise and the hopeful longing in Vessel's eyes. His friend told him he loves him and he doesn't know what to do with that, so he hesitantly steps to him and begins to lift his arms in question. II's heart squeezes at his shyness, after all, the other has spent months alone in the manor, so it's understandable that he would have grown unaccustomed to touch. But then II has to pull Vessel against him, because the man sort of hovers his arms around his frame as if he doesn't know how to approach a hug. Like he isn't sure what is expected of him and what is too much.

Vessel is surprised when II squeezes around his torso, when he brings one arm around his shoulder and the other to his neck, trying to bring Vessel down towards him, like he wants to protect and shelter him. That's strange, but Vessel finds that his arms want to stay wrapped loosely around II a bit longer and just as he starts to pull away, II again says "I love you, Vessel", and Vessel's brain freezes. II squeezes him tighter and Vessel feels so warm and strangely loose (he's afraid he will unravel if he stays too close for too long) and small even though he towers over his friend. His friend who is now holding him and who apparently loves him.

The only thing in his mind stumbles from his tongue in the form of a quiet "Why?". He didn't do anything exceptional. He was showing II an arrangement and said he wasn't sure if it was any good, letting his fingers dance over the keys, feeling like he was stumbling through music. He felt like it captured that familiar insecurity, and he liked it and hoped II would like it, too. Even if it didn't make it into a song. Then II said he did like it, that it feels like Vessel is unsure but it gives the melody a unique flavor, and that Vessel was great for translating that feeling into music.

"'Why?' ?" II's answering question is filled with such disbelief that Vessel wants to hide. He said something inappropriate, something secret that had previously only been dwelling in his mind, in a dark corner, and now he feels exposed. Why did he even open his mouth? Not good. Definitely bad.

Vessel is slumping against II a bit, like he doesn't know how to hold himself upright anymore, like he needs support. II must feel it, because he's still holding him, and it's been minutes and Vessel tries to squirm away, to save any dignity he might still possess, and II lets him slip out of the embrace, but his arms linger like he doesn't want to let go of his friend. His friend who just blurted out the worst response to a confession of gentle affection. Vessel looks so worried when he catches II's gaze and he immediately averts his eyes and takes a few small steps back, unconsciously gravitating towards his piano for protection, a sense of safety.

"You're my friend, Vessel," II tries approaching the man with soft words, "You're kind and considerate and a damn good musician," Vessel stops backing away when the back of his legs hit the edge of his piano bench, but he's still looking at the floor, "You pour your heart into writing and playing and it's amazing to see. You're committed, but patient and you help me every time I need. Even when I'm too embarrassed to ask," II tilts his head and steps a bit closer to try and catch Vessel's gaze, "I know you don't see it and I'm sorry that you can't because it's true. I would never lie to you about this, Ves. I love you, you're my best friend," Vessel presses his lips together, so II adds, "Not just because we live in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. You're the best friend I've ever had. And I'm glad Sleep led me to you."

Vessel gives him a look that shows he tries really hard to believe him, and adds in such a low voice it's almost a whisper, "I love you, too," as if he's embarrassed to admit it. But it's not embarrassment, II realizes, it's disbelief, it's some sort of deep shame about needing someone else, of relying on anyone else but himself at all times. And it makes sense, considering Vessel's nature, but II could never put it all together, since large chunks of Vessel's past were unfamiliar to him. He could have guessed based on how the man acted, but he didn't want to assume anything. It felt disrespectful. Vessel would share if he wanted.

"And I'm really glad you found me," just a beat of silence, before he adds, in an even quieter tone, if that's possible, "And that you stayed," Vessel risks a bashful glance towards II, and sees him blink rapidly, shocked by the implication of the other's words, before he shakes himself and steps closer to Vessel. He searches his face for apprehension, but doesn't find any, so he gently puts his hands on Vessel's upper arms and sits him down on his bench. Before Vessel can react, II has his arms wrapped around him, one around his shoulder, and the other's hand cupping the back of his head and cradling it to his front.

"You're important to me, Ves. You're special and precious and I love you," II's fingers caress the man's shoulder and card through his hair, "I want you to know that I'm here for you any time, okay?" Vessel is still stunned and he's sure he's going catch on fire if he gets any warmer. II twists a lock of hair around his finger, "Okay?" Words form and die in Vessel's throat so he just nods, rapidly, almost hurriedly, and II lets out a small chuckle. "You're amazing, you know that?" he nuzzles into Vessel's hair for a moment to murmur, "And adorable," II sways with the man in his arms a little and Vessel is sure he will combust. His face is flaming against II's shirt and he tries to suppress the half grimace-half grin on his face and feels unreal. "C'mon. Tea break?" II smiles down at him and offers a hand. Vessel can stand on his own, but doesn't reject the offer. He likes the warmth of II's hand and he can always use the stability and the reminder of the other's presence. II soon replaces his hand with a mug of tea, but it's considerably colder to Vessel. The contrast is especially palpable when II brushes his knuckles against Vessel's as he's handing him his tea. The mug is warm, but II's skin is burning against his. But it's not bad. It's a good burn. It makes Vessel feel alive. Seen. Loved?

Vessel learns that he doesn't have to prove himself to other people to receive love. Love is not something that has to be earned in their home. Love is not a reward, not something that Vessel has to work for, then be disappointed that in the end, it isn't actually given to him. He tried being good in the past, being silent and keeping his head down and being a good kid, but the warmth and the unconditional love didn't come. He still tried, though, he always tried his best, but apparently that wasn't enough. Or there wasn't actually love at the end of that tunnel. It was just a play of light. But that would have been cruel and Vessel would like to think that people in his past weren't intentionally unkind to him (he won't admit the truth to himself for a while).

II often tells Vessel that he's proud of him. For speaking up. For telling him when he's having a bad day. For asking for distance when he needs it and closeness when he feels like he will drift away. For admitting to messing up, when he falls back into bad habits of self-destruction and isolation. For doing a grocery run by himself even though he goes home almost shaking and has to spend the next hours under a blanket on the couch, because it was simply too much. For crying when he talks about memories that he tried his hardest to forget but he just can't. For asking for help and letting II help him, even though it's hard. It's really hard, and Vessel apologizes for it, for being fucked-up and broken and damaged goods. For wasting II's time and being a burden, a needy, greedy thing. Wretched. Minus human.

But II tells him he loves him and that he could never be a burden. That he will always be worth it, he always has been, and that he's sorry that people in Vessel's past couldn't see it. Couldn't see him for all that he is. For the friend who pays attention to little details so he can show his friend how much he values him. For the guy who bakes his friend a complicated cake for his birthday because he off-handedly told him he can't even remember what it tasted like, even though it used to be his favorite. For the amazing composer who can capture emotions one doesn't realize one has. For the hard-working, curious kid who thought that being obedient and not questioning authority was the way to earn praise and affection. For the little boy who thought something was wrong with him, that he did or didn't do something and that is why he couldn't feel loved. For the child who cried and cried, silent and under the cover of the night, hoping that no one would hear (and secretly hoping that somebody would and they would come and save him from the gaping emptiness that made its home in his chest, way too big and scary for a boy that little). For the boy and then the man who couldn't cry anymore but thought that that is more than alright, at least he can finally keep it all inside. For the partner who allowed himself to be vulnerable with someone he trusted. For the partner who made sure his other knew he was always welcome, even though his brain sometimes tried to tell him otherwise. For the partner who grew comfortable with expressing casual affection so much that terms like 'darling' became second nature to him (and for the way he blushed when II told him that). For the man who learned to accept that it's okay to admit to not being okay, to need someone, to want to not feel alone, to feel cherished, to have his feelings validated. For the man who can tell his partner anything and does, because he knows he can speak his mind and that there will be someone who listens.

II wanted to see Vessel. Vessel let him. Even before he showed the uglier and less than perfect parts of himself, II loved him all the same. It was never about being 'good' and silent and compliant. Vessel is good. Vessel is not good. He's amazing. He's perfect. He's wonderful. He's cherished. He's incredible. He's valued. He's seen. He's listened to. He's heard. He's finally, finally loved. Has been for longer than he dared to think. Will soon be by more people than he thought possible.

[reel-fear]

Looking at my old bendy posts is so sad. I used to post dissections of the story and fun things in it, I'd still like to do that but Mike sucks out so much of my energy but I also constantly feel the need to post about whatever dumb shit he says so I can explain to people why it's bad and shouldn't be supportive. On his youtube post a ton of people are being so kind to him and I'm just baffled. This rude asshole who has been nothing but bigoted towards his fans who want to see more diversity gets to be seen as some massive victim because HE said some dumb shit and people didn't like it? What about the young queers who were devastated to find out they'd never be represented in Bendy? What about the people of color who had to witness the graphic novel be filled with almost nothing but white people, with the only canonical person of color now being a book-exclusive [aka Non-Canon] character? Why do they matter so little to so many people? Why do the feelings of Mike, who has literally earned every bit of hate he's ever gotten, matter more than those of the people he's hurt? Why do I have to be the one who constantly updates tumblr on the new stupid shit he's saying no matter how tired and upset it makes me to have to constantly talk about the awful things he constantly says and then gets away with.

I miss being able to talk positively about Bendy, when most of my posts were just talking about cool things I thought about from the franchise. But being honest, I don't think I can ever go back to that time either. With stuff like the bendy books being no longer canon when they contain the best writing in the entire franchise and the way Mike shits himself at any critique he gets... I just can't speak positively of Bendy without some sort of "But..." Anymore, this franchise just fucking sucks currently.

I could make the posts I wanted to about stuff like how much I love Norman but I don't like Game Norman cause he lacks the interesting bits the books added and Book Norman has an awful design now thanks to these assholes! I could make all the posts I had wanted to about BATDR and its story, but I don't like to speak positively of the games anymore cause I don't want people to support them! I could make more posts on the books but then I'll be reminded that all this great writing Kress did, the bendy devs are completely ungrateful for! I literally can't speak purely nice of this franchise anymore cause at every turn I'm faced now with just how much it's been ruined and how much of that happened recently. I miss being able to make a causal nice post about Bendy but now I feel I can't do so without it being misleading or not the full story, Mike has tainted this fucking franchise with his presence and the fact Meatly lets him speak for both of them without stopping him or challenging him makes me assume he thinks the same way Mike does. Ughhhhhhhhhh

[anxiously-sidequesting]

This blog is my house so I can say basically whatever I want but I know I have some esteemed guests and friends who come over a lot and some lurkers who peer into the windows so all my wildest ass wizard shit stays in the locked basement where it belongs because it's common courtesy 💖

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

words can’t express how much i love him, his courage and fearlessness of expression in everything he creates is pure magic 🖤

[szappan]

im also increasingly sure that im autistic but we'll never ever confirm that </3

[donnyclaws]

I was gonan make a post apologizing for lack of regular art but I feel like jts already clear im sporadic and in and out of it bc chronic pain and circumstances. So for now I'm gonna hibernate, get my health steady again, deal with money issues, and art will happen when it happens.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

you know i was able to hold myself down quite calmly until you reminded me the website is updating, and now i'm struggling with myself it feels like i put myself in a straight jacket of sorts. BWAH

(i say thing jokingly, BUT I AM THERE WITH YOU I FEEL PHYSICALLY ILL FROM THE EXCITEMENT IM JUST. AUGH) god save us all for when it drops

im so normal.... im so sane.... auahhhhhahh

we're going to collectively lose our absolute marbles ouagh. actual image of us all rn:

[s0fter-sin]

i’ve been watching yannis marshall choreography for like 15 minutes and i’m back thinking about my dancer au

gaz suggests a pole dancing segment for the music video for price and ghost shuts it down hard, saying he doesn’t do pole. gaz calls him selfish, that he’s just saying no to spite him but ghost holds firm; not even listening to soap as he tries to reason with him and reach a compromise

soap gets to practice early like he always does, just to see ghost blasting another life by motionless in white and doing a flawless pole routine. he’s as mesmerised by him as he always is, such beautiful movements contrasted by the seemingly harsh music, and waits for him to break before teasing, “i thought you said you couldn’t do pole dancin’.”

ghost just wipes the sweat off his face with a towel. he knew he was there

he always knows when soap’s there

“i said i didn’t do pole; not that i couldn’t.”

“what’s stoppin’ you?” soap asks, genuine and innocently curious and it’s the only reason ghost doesn’t completely shut him down

“what ‘bout you?” he asks instead. “ever done pole?”

he shrugs and sets his bag down. “enough to get in a twirl or two. ‘sides, gaz’s better suited to that kinda delicate work.”

“now, that i know is bullshit,” ghost scoffs and soap tenses, expecting him to go off on another rant about his best mate (just like he waits through gaz going off on ghost) but- “i’ve seen your competition tapes; you’re plenty strong enough to work a pole.”

soap stares at him. “how have you-?”

“price,” he answers simply, throwing the towel on top of his gear and all but stalks towards him. “i like knowin’ who i’m working with; he sent me your breakdancin’ comps. if you can hold a three-fingered hollowback handstand, you can bend on a pole.”

soap sputters as ghost grips his tank top and yanks him over to the pole, setting his hands in place on the body-warmed metal; bracketing his body with his own. he guides his body through the motions; teaches him how to fall and catch himself in a spin, how to gracefully climb and hold his body in midair

soap laughs as he throws himself into a spin just to bend his legs over his head, twisting his body to latch onto the pole with knee and lean perfectly horizontal with his other leg splayed out; his arm thrown above his head

he tips his head back to catch ghost’s grin and almost drops himself as he jumps up to join him; artfully climbing above him and holding his whole weight on his hip as he flips down to look at him

soap’s breath catches at the scant distance between their faces; so close he can count the near invisible freckles on ghosts skin, his fair lashes and the deep flecks of gold in his dark eyes

ghost is just as entranced; his grin slowly fading as he looks into the light sparkling in soap’s eyes. he tips his head towards the mirrors lining the studio and they slowly turn to look at themselves; fitting perfectly together

“see?” he whispers. “we don’t look all that outta place, do we?”

“no,” soap whispers back. “we don’t.”

[proshipaes]

Everytime I see one of those ''Gregory is Michael's son and that's why he looks like CC!" theories/AUs all my fucked up brain can think is... What if Gregory looks like CC because he's also William's kid?

Like I'm pretty sure it couldn't work because blah blah timeline, but I desperately want to fuck up Michael's life even more by having him have his own father's kid.

[catonatrain]

kazuma asogi jumpscare

dgs yakuza adventures