#OF ALL TIME. *THE* RIFF OF ALL TIME | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carnivalcarriondiscarded · 6 months

Text

something i've been thinking about:

Wally is set up as a sort of "main character" by the whrp. he's said in the site's description of the show to have introduced the main theme/lesson of the day's episode, and then the rest of the neighbors join him on his escapades. but then we have our first glimpses of everyone's actual dynamics and characters through the audios and you look at Wally and its like

first of all, thats an npc. second, nearly everybody else has severe main character syndrome

but its fascinating how Wally is just kind of... There. he doesnt talk much. he doesnt contribute beyond a couple of lines. its more like he joins the others on their shenanigans. he fades into the background. he's off to the side while everyone else holds conversations & leads the moment

Wally, despite being described as Thee character, is borderline background.

& whats even more interesting, within his individual secret audio files and interactions - he's almost chatty. not only that but the way he talks is more confident and faster paced. he's taking initiative. he can be kinda pushy. when talking to the qa/whrp/Us, he acts more like the character his descriptions portray. he acts more like a person instead of a puppet waiting for his next cue

I cant tell if - when around the neighbors - his tepid milk behavior is a purposeful act or if he's masking. and if he's masking, is it deliberate or involuntary? and in regards to both, why is he acting so different? It could be tied to what he's trying to accomplish. if he's trying to "restore" Welcome Home, it would make sense for him to act as he does around the neighbors - he wouldnt want to clue them in that he knows so much more than he's letting on, would he?

but then that begs another train of thought - what if he isn't acting or masking? if there is a time discrepancy between Wally's interactions with the qa/whrp/Us & the more 'official' audios, that could explain the difference in behavior. we could be getting glimpses into "future" (read: current) Wally, who's had much more time to figure himself out since we can safely assume he started out as a blank slate. we could be seeing a more experienced Wally than the one seen with his friends.

of course that line of thinking loses some merit when considering the 14 "bug" audios. or it could lend to it... if we're seeing a more experienced Wally but his friends are only seeing what he allows them to. it's still him, just... a carefully curated version.

in general it could really tie into the themes of identity and change and being other, to me. when you're so different - or you feel so different - that you can't bring yourself to be your most authentic you around your friends. when you feel like you have to hold back and be who you think they expect you to be, or what would be most palatable. most normal. will they accept you as you really are? there's always the fear and terror that the people you consider closest to you won't. or when you're so scared of change that you'll shove down & lock away parts of yourself so that you can keep things as you are. because once they know you've changed, so will they. and really, do you want to even accept that you've changed? what if that's what scares you most of all - that you're different, you've metamorphosized, you can't go back to the way things were because you yourself are no longer the person you were before. there is no reversing this no matter how much you try or pretend

#its just so fascinating #the whrp: wally's The Guy!#wally (with his friends): the most lukewarm dude ever #then he's alone or alone with home and its like Hi My Name Is Wally Darling & Welcome To Jackass *off-tune guitar riff*#bbg has ✨problems✨#and like - im giving all of his stuff a re-listen to make sure im not misremembering or completely talking out of my ass #but his phone call? the way his VA is delivering the lines seems So fuckign different than in the shared audios #his tone is flatter. he sounds more sure of his words and himself. he Sounds like he's in control and knows it.#immediately going from that to a shared audio where he puts more inflection in his voice & doesnt talk much #and when he does talk its slow. meandering. his lines are more befitting of his audience surrogate role #which only makes me feel more like he's acting/masking (again: if that time discrepancy does indeed exist)#which - as someone who kinda compulsively masks around Literally Everyone no matter how much i want to Not - it kinda hits hard!#i suspect that he Is masking instead of acting. he's The Most Autism as we all know so it would more than fit #and that could add an extra layer if it's automatic and he can't turn it off. or if he doesn't want to turn it off #but also acting... a misplaced attempt to protect his friends and world? not feeling like he can share his 'true' self? augh #wally darling you make me unwell. i want to dissect you #wh speculation #welcome home speculation #homebogging #and then listening to his little record audios #he starts out talking like he does in the shared audios and then slowly gains confidence until he's speaking more like he does in the call #just. wally not being talkative in the neighborhood to the point where everyone's like 'yeah wally isnt much of a talker'#vs him chatting away to the qa/whrp/Us #of course it could be because he has to carry the entire conversation on his own #But. but. you can still carry a one sided conversation and be hesitant or awkward or um. missing the word rn but short-sentenced #brief? succinct? concise?#wally's fully trying to make conversation with someone he knows can't reply. which is interesting #so many ways to take that. well. three #maybe he doesnt feel listened to in his day to day life / he feels more comfortable and can relax / hes been alone for a long while #anyway there may be more ways to take this but this is all my tiny poppyseed brain can reach atm

217 notes · View notes

pixelatedquarter · 9 months

Text

Shoutout to Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III who's decided the only way he can ask Patrick (who's been constantly hugging both guests and joe for the entirety of the tour) for a hug is apparently onstage comparing him to a football player and saying he looks like a teddy bear he'd like to cuddle.

Like a normal person that doesn't have an extremely complicated relationship with boundaries borne from testing those decades ago and then backpedalling so hard we still see that one gif of him hovering his hand and pulling it back like patrick was a stovetop when they were fresh out of hiatus.

It's the tour of fuck it we heal man, i'm sure you can get a hug without reciting archivebears

#this is all /lh there's volumes that can be written and have been written at how they seem to have found a comfortable happy medium #with being affectionate on and off stage specially this tour without making a performance out of it #but maybe bc of how close this riff was to travie lifting them off their feet #the assumption of ''i would hug but IM not allowed that'' that comes with the teddy bear statement has the potential to be taken as real #or maybe it's bc it comes right after the riff where he backpedalled like three times in wildly different directions #as soon as he caught himself being too earnest and sappy with liking to give the spotlight to patrick #(personally i like the idea that this is part of the narrative and the US arc will conclude with all of them hugging)#tourdust #fob #fall out boy

203 notes · View notes

hopscorched · 14 days

Text

draw me like one of your japanese mango girls. feat. Mixed Media

#every morning i wake up in cold sweat worried i’m drawing him too pretty! i can’t help it! he’s a bishōnen to me!! so here’s a riff on that #abijah fowler #🪽 seraphine draws #🌺 to break your vigor or to make you bite the dust or in your bed's hell turn into a proserpine #if i can confide in you all. i’ve always been apprehensive about drawing with colour pencils because one of my huge art inspirations has —#— been doing WILDLY elaborate and gorgeous drawings with this media and i’ve just been so insecure about even trying.. but it’s fun —#— actually! the colours look a bit harsher in the photo but it’s been a fun experience :) also. idk how much of my journal i’ll be showing #— here cause.. well. it feels a little personal.. but i’m sure i’ll be dropping bits at times.. or i would love to do some sort of —#— challenge via journaling.. that’s always fun!#romantic f/o #proship selfship #blood ///

59 notes · View notes

luck-of-the-drawings · 3 months

Text

OOH YEAH BABY! PARTY TIME BABY! MUSIC! DRINKS! SOCIAL PRESSURE & A PSYCHEDELIC BREAK DOWN! WELCOME TO VAMPIRE SOCIETY MOTHERFUCKER! ARE YOU SCARED? DO YOU UNDERSTAND YET? ITS OKAY IF NOT. FIRE DISSOLVED IT! ITS ALL GONE NOW. HAVE FUN!

#jrwi fanart #jrwi show #jrwi suckening #jrwi suckening spoilers #RRAAHH IM IN LOVE WITH THIS SHOW SOOO GOODDAMN MUCH!! each o these characters has STOLEN my HEART!!!#LIKE EMIZEEELLL i love emizel so much.. runnin around announcing that HE isa PRINCE while shiloh FINALLY quietly clicks the pieces together #nathan hanover you MADMAN!!! that slow dramatic guitar riff as emizel makes that announcement was so fuckin COOL UGHHHH #MR HANOVER DOES IT AGAIN just creating tracks that absoultely WORM into my MIND and HHEAARRT UUGHHGHH #emizel is so cool and so funny and so adorable UUGHH ill gush abt him more when i finally post my emizel n soda doodle page #ARTHUR FUCKING BENNET. i totally get why grizz has a hard time playing him. hes cool and stoic n its not easy to play a man o little words #BUT BBOOOY DOES HE DO IT WELL!! arthur DOES come off as so stoic n cool & it just makes his lil misfortunes all the more charming #like falling into the red fear or confrontin edward twilight or accidentally doing lsd. I LOVE THATS HES THE BAD LUCK GUY.#okay uhhu uhh i have limited room here what else should i say uhh. THE NPCS. MY GOD THE NPCS. CHARLIE U WONDERFUL MADMAN #edward twilight is SUCH a funny fucking antagonist. and supposedly his magic stuff is super scary?? SO EXCITED TO SEE MORE OF THAT #ill ramble abt mr deacon keller later eheh i have a. uh. a doodle page in the works. so in the meantime DAYBRINGER SOLOMON!!#��HERE COMES THE SUN MOTHERFUCKER!” “ILL SEE YOU IN HELL. NOT. IM GOING TO HEAVEN. BITCH.” like come on now. oh my god. i need him #BIG POWERFUL BEAST AND EVERY WORD HE SAYS HAS ME CRACKING UP. THE MUFFLED VOICE IN THE DARK BROKEN BY “LIGHT!”#TRULY HILARIOUS AND YET TRULY HORRIFYING. I FUCKIN LOVE CHARLIE NPCS SO MUCH. I HOPE WE SEE HIM AGAIN OHH MY GOOOODDD #OKAYokay. im normal now. ill talk abt the piece. if u read my tags this far then u get special secret knowledge abt the artistic process #IM VERY HAPPY WITH MY COLORS! i know they were hallucinating on drugs so i just recalled the times i did drugs & used that as my influence #REMEMBER KIDS! acid is totally fine if ur safe and responsible about it. do acid and then stare at my art for a bit trrruuust me. IT MOVES!#anyway i think thats all my thoughts here. thank you for looking at my art n thanku if ur one o the ppl that says nice things in the tags #U are LITERLY my life blood i pick up each of u n kiss u so sweetly on the head. remember to try acid!!!!

100 notes · View notes

alackofghosts · 8 months

Text

after gustav klimt's the kiss

#somewhat miraculously i've never done a riff off of it in all my time doing fanart #i had a great time though there is soooo much fun texture in the original #Ardbert #warrior of light #fanart #speedpaint #i draw sometimes #Final Fantasy XIV

74 notes · View notes

danggirlronpa · 9 months

Text

Ikusaba narrowed her eyes slightly, and turned to Kirigiri with a mix of emotions flashing through her eyes. Yet her expression and tone did not waver in the slightest. “That’s right…You were always like this, Kirigiri…” Repeating what she just said half to herself, Ikusaba spoke to Kirigiri directly. “This is exactly why Junko took care to erase more of your memories.” -- Danganronpa IF, Part 4

YOU WERE ALWAYS LIKE THIS; a pre-game kyoko/mukuro playlist from mukuro's perspective

[SPOTIFY]

Tracklist:

Recessional, Vienna Teng

Tempest (Acoustic), Lucius

Seigfried, Frank Ocean

Allies or Enemies, The Crane Wives

Iron Man, Nico Vega

Cherry Picking, Girlpool

Watching You, Melissa Etheridge

It Will Come Back, Hozier

I Don't Wanna Die Anymore, The Smith Street Band

requested by @pie-a-rino <3

#kirisaba #mukugiri #mukuro ikusaba #kyoko kirigiri #thh #playlist #danganronpa #mod playlist #mine #the restraint it took not to make this a playlist about my extremely elaborate post-dr if kirisaba headcanons. i am a saint #i have several secondary playlists from kyokos pov and about their time in the future and about the future in canonverse and all that #I Just Think. Marge With Potato. But The Potato Is Tragic Lesbians #kyoko and mukuro in dr if kill me every time i think about them. thank u for the excuse to riff through music

25 notes · View notes

goldenglitzer · 1 year

Text

Alright, who had "Belos turns into Godzilla on Bald Mountain" on their bingo cards?

#toh spoilers #watching and dreaming #belos #philip wittebane #mostly liked the episode #feel like a lot of interesting character stuff was glossed over but i digress #happens when you don't have nearly as much time as you need #tho i'm definitely kinda pissed at belos' ending #i wanted him to suffer and die #but specifically at the hands of caleb evelyn and his own madness #not as a kinda jokey riff on the “save the villain from the curse they had all along” trope #also no evelyn makes me sad #that being said genderfluid papa titan makes up for everything #bro/gal was chill as hell

39 notes · View notes

distinctlywhumpthing · 9 months

Text

In League — Nightmare

Masterlist

Summary: August still feels out of place in the house after trying to escape run away but a nightmare has him seeking Wyatt's comfort...

(This was in the Google Drive Black Hole until @peachy-panic's This Could Be The Moment and @hold-him-down's Not Ideal inspired me to polish it in the spirit of Bad Nights. If you haven't read these pieces (& entire series) yet, you should plan on getting zero work done this week because you now have more important things to do.)

CW: Late-19th century, indentured servitude/classism, explicit language, past-noncon implied, power dynamics, carewhumper/sympathetic whumper. Beta read by @alittlewhump!

August didn’t like sleeping alone.

He missed being allowed to sleep in the chair, knowing all night that Wyatt was near, working at the desk or asleep in the bed. He would’ve kept to the chair forever if it had meant he didn’t have to be alone at night, in the dark where Keats could still find him.

The nightmare hadn’t been anything novel. He was always struggling to regain some ground, all the while only digging himself deeper. Sometimes Fionn was there, hurting. Keats would lay a trap and August would walk right into it. Without fail. Hopeless, thoughtless, thankless. He was too slow, too dim-witted not to fall for the tricks every time, even in his own dreams.

He’d awoken to his heart beating like a drum between his ribs. Chest both gnawingly hollow and achingly tight. The room was pitch-dark, with no moon or stars shining through the window. Even the fire had died in the hearth like the night was snuffing out all light. He’d played the unwitting accomplice, banishing any chance of warmth by casting all the blankets and even the pillows to the floor in sleep. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, shivering.

There were still many things he didn’t understand or trust about his place here and the older boy who had given it to him. But Wyatt had a way of making Keats feel like a small, distant memory and that was exactly what August needed right now.

When he’d asked to stay—or rather, accepted Wyatt’s invitation to stay by way of needlessly asking his permission, Wyatt had insisted August take his bed. A laughable stipulation, considering how much worse he’d had than an armchair by a warm fire, but Wyatt had insisted. So, August had Wyatt’s room and bed to himself at night while Wyatt slept in the spare bed in Theo’s room down the end of the hall.

August paused at Theo’s door, leaning around the frame, the corner of the wood pressing into his collarbone. Wyatt was alone, sleeping with his back to the open door. Theo’s was probably among the voices that occasionally rose from downstairs, a sliver of bright electric light seeping from under the parlour door and trying to climb to light the stairs. It was just enough brightness that August had been able to avoid the creakier of the floorboards in the old house. After hovering in the doorway uneasily for five full minutes to confirm Theo wasn’t coming upstairs, he tiptoed in, chilly air nipping at the strip of bare skin between his stockings and underbreeches. The rest of the house was always freezing in comparison to Wyatt’s room. August had eventually learned that none of the others ever bothered with fires, a realisation that had made heat spread through his chest like the very warmth Wyatt kept him in.

It was hard to distinguish Wyatt himself from the bedcovers, fabric from skin, where one stopped and the other began, in the darkness. The bed itself and the man on it a single unbroken silhouette, carved from shadow marble. His even breath the only sign he wasn’t stone. August felt even more obtrusive standing over him. He crouched instead, not sure if he should sit on the edge of the bed without being invited and reluctant to kneel on the cold floor.

He hesitated countless times, hand hovering in the open space between them, heart sprinting in his chest. What if he was given more than a hand to hold, the warm embrace he sought? Even in the face of the vows Wyatt made during the day, August had never met a promise that didn’t have a trap door. And coming to Wyatt’s bed like this in the middle of the night was as good a reason to use it as any. His nerves rose steadily until it was like his heart beat between his ears and it was all he could hear or feel, swaying in the darkness to the tide of his own pulse.

A clatter from downstairs almost had him bolting back to his borrowed bed, ill dreams or not, lest someone else catch him out of it. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he’d rather it be Wyatt than anyone else, when the tables finally turned.

Now or never.

He reached out, brushing his fingertips over Wyatt’s bare shoulder. As faint as the hope he clung to that this would be no different than any other time Wyatt had comforted him. “Wyatt?”

Wyatt grumbled, turning onto his side to face August but not opening his eyes. He let his arm fall open, extended out toward August.

His heart hammered on in his chest as he held his breath waiting for more of an indication from Wyatt. More of an invitation or a dismissal.

Was that space meant for August? Or was Wyatt only reaching out his hand?

They’d never lain side by side before but Wyatt was always looping an arm around his shoulders during the day, swift to pull him into an embrace in those embarrassing moments when he lost his composure.

Or was Wyatt simply fast asleep?

August twisted his fingers in the fabric of the nightshirt Wyatt had given him, knees starting to ache from crouching. He’d disturbed Wyatt enough thusfar. He ought to leave him in peace. But the thought of leaving had him swallowing a lump in his throat and blinking away tears, as though Wyatt were truly sending him away, rejecting him. An unwarranted, invented ache.

It was for the best that he hadn’t roused Wyatt fully. He should feel lucky that he hadn’t gotten more than he bargained for. That Wyatt wasn’t the sort to thrash him simply for the disturbance. At least, he hadn’t shown himself to be that sort yet. August uncurled his fingers, pulse throbbing in his fingertips from how tightly he’d bound them in the fabric in his fists. He swiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand and rose.

Wyatt sighed, fingers at the end of his open arm curling away from August, beckoning him closer.

August’s heart faltered in his chest and against all reason, his tears fell with renewed urgency. He sniffled and fruitlessly wiped at them again before ever so gently, lying down at Wyatt’s side.

He settled on top of the bedcovers since Wyatt hadn’t lifted them. It wouldn’t matter anyway once he was closer to Wyatt, in his arms. His heart still felt like it was beating too heavily in his chest. As though he were stealing something he didn’t deserve, hadn’t earned. He took a deep breath, forcing the air in past his galloping heart and chased away the memories of his nightmares and of Keats. Wyatt was nothing like him, had only ever welcomed him with open arms.

August inched closer, resting his forehead against the older boy’s shoulder, hands tucked up between them. Wyatt’s breath tickled through his hair, in and out. If August flattened his hand, he could feel Wyatt’s steady heartbeat, its comforting metronome. He—

Wyatt drew in a sharp breath and shoved August back. He crashed to the floor, yelping as his head cracked against the corner of the solid bedside table.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, scrambling off his back as Wyatt’s shadow sat up in the bed, looming over him.

Wyatt didn’t move, didn’t dignify his feeble apology with a response. But he had to be furious for how hard and fast he was breathing, for how rigid his shadow was, as though he truly was stone.

August’s heart carried on beating erratically in his chest. It didn’t feel right. It felt like it would swallow him, end him from the inside out, compounding his fear with each consuming beat. “I’m sorry,” he repeated lamely, voice shaking. He didn’t know what else to say. When Wyatt still didn’t acknowledge him, he inched forward, reaching out—

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Wyatt stood and August cowered back with a whine, hands coming up to protect his head. He couldn’t do anything right, perpetually reduced to crawling back like a puppy who’d been kicked but was too stupid to learn its place.

It was all he was, broken, desperate. Exactly as Keats had made him. “Please, sir. I beg your pardon.” He hadn’t called Wyatt that in weeks, had been able to rise just a little bit in his esteem, and even his own. Until now. He started crying in earnest, the tension from his uncontrolled heart and the open fall of failure overtaking him. “I’m sorry, sir. Please—”

Wyatt skirted away from him, bringing his hands up to his head in his rage. As far as possible from the pathetic mess of a boy who’d overstepped his welcome. He would have run if Wyatt hadn't been blocking his way to the door. Sobs halted his apologies so he pulled his knees up to his chest and waited, never taking his eyes off Wyatt.

But crying would not constitute an apology, hiding from punishment even worse, and he needed to fix this. If he wasn’t dead in a day on the streets, Keats would find him. To remain in this house, even chained in the basement, was preferable. He would offer anything, surrender any part of himself, to stay with Wyatt. Make himself smaller, bend, break to counterbalance this fault, to regain what standing he’d had. He had brought this on himself and he would face the consequences. Prove––

A light in the doorway silenced his undeserved tears and he held his breath.

“Wyatt?” It was Theo. And no one behind him, which was a small mercy, though it didn’t promise anything about what was coming for August. Theo lifted the candle, scanning the room until his gaze fell on August.

A whimper escaped his lips and before he could sort himself to make some attempt at apology, Theo was moving. He couldn’t help himself, he covered his head again.

Only Theo paid him no mind, just went to the chair at the foot of the bed and gathered Wyatt’s clothes in his free arm. He thrust them at Wyatt with enough force that August heard the impact, pushing them at the unmoving statue that used to be Wyatt until he was forced to take a step back and finally brought his arms up to cradle the clothes.

“Go on,” Theo said, keeping his voice low.

Wyatt didn’t move. August couldn’t see his face from this angle but after a moment it became clear that something was transpiring. Something excluding August.

“Get some air. Don’t worry, I’ve got him.”

His stomach dropped. He didn’t want Wyatt to leave when things were like this, when he hadn’t told him that he hadn’t meant to be so much trouble and that he would face the consequences well. But he couldn’t find his voice.

With one more moment’s hesitation but not a second glance in his direction, Wyatt left and August was alone with Theo.

First thing he did was set the candle on one of the posts of his bed. A precarious placement that had once lost August the privilege of candles for an entire month –of bruised shins and stubbed toes– at Elmwood. But Theo didn’t have to worry about things like that. None of the other boys here did. At least, August didn’t think so; even if they didn’t have much, they were all equal. Theo bent down a few paces away, resting his forearms on his knees.

“August, you all right down here?”

He wasn’t sure what to say, or if he could say much of anything without just crying some more. He swallowed, to see if his throat was clear enough for words. It wasn’t.

“I know you’re frightened,” Theo said gently.

That only made the lump in August’s throat worse, sobs closer to escaping his lips.

Theo watched him carefully, as was his wont. August fought shy of meeting his gaze. It made him nervous, how heedful Theo always was. What might he observe and, worse, what might he tell Wyatt?

“You’re not in any trouble.” August couldn’t help but look straight into his eyes now. Watchful as they were, he didn’t find them deceitful. “I promise, everything will right.”

He hoped Wyatt would agree.

“Why don’t you let me help you up? We’ll sort you out, too.” He held out one of his hands. “It’s all right, I’m not going to hurt you.”

When August reached out, his palm shone crimson in the candlelight.

To be continued...

@whumpy-writings , @writer-reader-24 , @deluxewhump , @no-whump-on-main , @maracujatangerine , @painsandconfusion , @wolfeyedwitch , @briars7 , @gala1981 , @redwingedwhump , @whumpflash , @poeticagony , @annablogsposts , @fleur-alise , @melancholy-in-the-morning , @crystalquartzwhump , @magziemakeswhatever , @neverthelass

23 notes · View notes

diluc33rpm · 3 months

Text

the romance/relationship system in bg3 is genuinely some of the worst designed shit i've ever seen in any game with that feature but at least the memes we get out of it are funny. once saw someone comment something along the lines of 'patch note: waving at gale will no longer cause him to buy a house for the two of you to retire in' and i've never recovered since

#i love gale he doesn't deserve (most of) the incel slander #but it's painfully such a good riff because it really really does feel like that #the player choices being a b/w alternation between 'hey there' and 'YOU SHOULD KILL YOURSELF... NOW!' normally is already comical as is #the fact that it carries over into interactions with the party members who you're presumably trying to be close with is... something else #and what makes it worse is it ISN'T jokey hyperbole. anyone remember 'send a mental image of you kissing him or HIS HEAD ON A PIKE.' c'mon #trying to chat and vibe at the refugee camp celebration and the sum of conversation i get is one (1) line asking how they're doing #because going any further than that elicits marking you down for the path of boning take it or leave it #it's genuinely so hard to get to feel like you can deepen a relationship with the characters in ways that aren't trying to pursue them #yes! halsin! i really want to know you better! i just don't want the ass!! why is trying to hit the only option other than up and leaving!!#99% of the time i expect nothing from media creators in terms of writing interactive relationships #larian are beyond parody in that they've somehow managed to do worse than the already suboptimal majority #we're just going to impose the roadblock of do you want to fuck y/n right off the bat. good luck finding a way to talk around that if not #the obscuration surrounding where exactly the checks are really does not help at all either #when the shit's got even the allos complaining about it you know it's BAD #shame because i was excited for character scenes given that's a lot of what's hyped up about the game #but no it's all just the romances. 'what if i'd like to breathe in someone's general direction-' well now have you heard of our romances?#fish fear them party members fear them and tav is going to have to walk alone on this sinful earth #conservative bigoted relative at the family reunion withers era was a fucking time before they tweaked that line speaking of #just so crazy they can get away with this shit #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 liveblog

8 notes · View notes

andy-clutterbuck · 2 years

Photo

8x14 | Still Gotta Mean Something

#where's my mother's day card for all the fictional children i've given you over the years #Rick Grimes #*#rg #S8 #someone play the opening riff from Careless Whisper #belly (◡‿◡✿)#form an orderly line to cosplay as his duty belt #shoutout to my beloved The Nose™ for stopping his shirt in its path #still want to blow raspberries on his belly #nice nips give him a blue ribbon #HELLO to those hip divots with 1000 names #you know those sticky hands toys from the store quarter machines?#that'd be my existence #i love arm #ya ever want to worship someone's torso #no just me #ok #bout to make like that time i played Life and had so many kids i had to get an extra car

218 notes · View notes

loptrcoptr · 2 years

Photo

Genuinely, I think this show might be the most Star Trek thing ever to Star Trek in at least thirty years

#the writers do not give one iota of a fuck they will pull any stunt write any ridiculous plotline #ignore any plothole and riff on absolutely everything. it's fabulous. attention to detail without taking the material seriously at all #star trek snw #star trek: strange new worlds #star trek spoilers #loptrcoptr watches star trek #Pike then goes on to be like wait did you literally actually genuinely bodyswap and spock is like yeah now that you know #cant you totally tell just by looking at out mannerisms? and Pike responds #with the most deadpan and highly valley girl 'totally' of all time. ridiculous. amazing.

122 notes · View notes

bubbledtee · 1 year

Text

the lore i have built up for modern!80s!james in my brain is overwhelming.

#in the scenario in my head he’s an ‘03 baby #and he had unrestricted internet access from a young age #unfortunately definitely had an edgy phase in middle school to early highschool #he’s been an xbox kid #but he built his own pc when he was like 17 #he plays clash of clans on his phone all the time #he’s an absolute ipad kid #his entire camera roll is just pics of you and your cat (gibson) and videos of riffs he’s been working on #i’m insane #james hetfield #papa het #modern!80s!james #bub’s thoughts

28 notes · View notes

farewell-persephone · 10 months

Text

#Cloudkicker #progressive metal #still one of the riffs of all time #Bandcamp

13 notes · View notes

aeide-thea · 7 months

Text

sigh

up in the middle of the night (or, really, rounding the corner of it now) rereading old fic (from a fandom i was never actually in, about a canon i never actually read, because if we're gonna go full Deep Internet we might as well go all the way, i guess) about a, hm, partially queerplatonic polycule and also somebody being nonbinary in a way that somewhat maps onto the way i'm nonbinary—

(or, i don't know, i stopped feeling confident about claiming that language for myself sometime around the time i first saw theyfab discourse happening in the distance and no one in my social vicinity deigning to acknowledge it even long enough to push back at it, so like, these days i mostly just feel like no language assigned or aspired-to is really mine to use, honestly, but i guess 'genderqueer' feels like a modest enough assertion i can probably safely make it: genderqueer, agender, what even is a gender anyway—)

but it really is just like. i wish i could have the experience you're supposed to have in your, like, early- to mid-twenties really, where you live with a bunch of people you have, like, ambiguously queerplatonic relationships with and get to be casually nakeder than conventional norms allow and be, like, a shirtless genderless person around other people and get that reinforced for myself. but of course instead it's like. i missed the boat on the possibility of that experience just like i missed the boat on the rest of life, and i live with my father which is—a grab bag of nice/comfortable/mediocre/stifling but mainly for the purposes of the current conversation just not a plausible environment in which to push nudity taboos and attempt to reframe bodily meanings; and so what i get instead is to flop around in the middle of the night like an unevolved magikarp feeling crazy and melancholy and reading fic where imaginary people make unconventional impossibilities possible for one another because they love each other and it's, like, an updated version of that pathetically tragic anecdote abt the woman calling the gay bars just to listen down the phone and know they were out there…

like honestly i probably would want top surgery really, or at least, to like. wave a wand and have—no tits? smaller tits? something, anyway, sometimes—but i also want people's perception of my self not to depend on my making that happen? i don't know. it's like. my ugly little tits are ugly and i never wanted to sprout them in the first place but it's also like. sux that all roads to social gender acceptance/affirmation regardless of direction involve active cosmetic modification of my own body. like actually that was a major part of the concept/constraint i wanted to get out from under.

i don't know. the things i want seem unreasonable and impossible no matter what camp you ask and i feel gadfly-maddened and oversensitive and despairing about the whole tangle of it (never mind any other aspect of my (non-)life). like it's no fucking wonder i spend so much time as a disembodied word-utterer on the disembodied internet. language my truest tongue of my truest body. heart-sea and heart's ease and heart's blood-without-blood. (found myself thinking here abt heaney's ban-hus (blood-holt, dream-bower) and went to look it up and was poured right back into the problem and then back out of it again. (woman-)body as wordless geography, limned and unlimbed by words.)

gender of the day: poiesis. (ἡ ποίησις, of course—the feminine article, which transcribed becomes he: a meaningless homograph, to be sure, but then so too am i a queerly-drawn thing; and anyway even a wildly-strung cat's cradle is still a cradle, the dots of it connected to hold a meaning like any other constellation…)

#honestly i could riff like this all day but. time to put it—& myself—to bed.#feelingsblogging #what is gender we just don't know #the psyche

11 notes · View notes