Putting on "The End" and wiping off my makeup in the sharp white light of the hotel room mirror as Gerard sings for me to do so. Thinking about them towelling the bloody bullet hole off of their forehead somewhere, either in a nicer hotel room than this or perhaps on the bus. Picturing all the makeup coming off all the faces of all the fans, rinsing down a thousand drains as adrenaline fades to weariness and the concert high fades to a vague, aching yearning for more. There is a mournfulness at the end of the celebration, but there is yet a celebration in the mourning, a togetherness even still. And after all, is that not what this band is about? The twinned emotions of mourning and rejoicing and the times when the two are inextricable?
Putting on eyeliner this morning for the My Chemical Romance concert and thinking about how many other fans might also be doing this at the same time; thinking about how many fans have done their eyeliner for a show over the years in the past. Thinking about Gerard doing his own eyeliner. Achieving spiritual union with the MCR fandom through slightly messy eyeliner.
The other night I had a dream that there was a hot new parody of the song Lump by Presidents of the United States of America. Tragically, I don't remember any of the parody lyrics beyond the chorus of "she's Lump, she's Lump, she's Lump" being replaced with "he's Trump, he's Trump, he's Trump".
I watched 2x14 of the Originals tonight and when Klaus told all the assembled werewolves at Hayley's wedding that Hope was still alive after killing his own father just for finding out the very same thing a mere handful of episodes ago, it made me think of this moment in this Studio C sketch -- "she knew, so naturally, she had to be taken care of! Of course, I didn't realize I'd be revealing that secret myself just a few hours later, but at the time it seemed very important to keep her quiet." Like. I guess I get his reasoning and can sort of see why it changed. But for a guy who killed the biological father he'd been so curious about just a few days ago to keep his secret, he sure did just announce that same dang secret to a roomful of strangers. If I was his biodad hanging out on the Other Side (or wait I think maybe that's gone by now? But if it was still there) I'd be trying my darndest to slap that idiot upside the head for that.
Today on "tumblr ads that I wish were rebloggable":
I'm not wildly fond of tumblr ads promoting weight loss all willy-nilly, but the theming of this one combined with the fact that I saw it on a blog that I first followed for Dracula Daily posting has me losing it. Lose weight how, pray tell, dear tumblr ad? Lose blood weight? Because someone's drinking it? Am I going to be running through Transylvania because there's a vampire chasing me?
I love how a discussion of tropes can turn into an actual, full-length, illustrated story and get me emotionally involved. This was beautiful. Admittedly I could predict the gist of the villain’s motivations from a ways out, but that twist about MC-kun caught me by surprise and definitely gave me feels. I’m not even that familiar with anime tropes, but the mechanics of this story world were fascinating, and that was a quite the battle scene!
This is exactly the sort of random find that I love about this site.
You know those anime meta posts along the lines of “I was born with pink hair. The doctors told my parents I was a Main Character and ever since my life has not known peace from demons/spirits/sports competitions/harems who find me”
Well I see that, and I raise you this:
An anime boy whose appearance is, by absolutely anyone’s account, completely and utterly average. Mundane hair. Mundane eyes. Not even glasses to set him the tiniest bit apart. A simple, unmemorable, unrecognizable civilian among a backdrop of millions.
And he has a lot of passions, and a lot of ambitions, which he hones every chance he gets. He’s dabbled in sports and archery and cooking and just about anything you could wrap a competition around. And he’s competed in many of these. Every chance he gets. With all of his passion and all of his might.
He’s crushed by the competition every single time.
Until one day–one day something clicks for him. Something that should have seemed obvious from the start and yet never was–as though everyone, including himself, was unwittingly blind to it. It clicks, when he realizes every kid who’s beaten him in competition, every kid who’s gone on to fame and glory and acclaim, has been some candy-haired gel-spiked ridiculously-dressed fucker.
There’s some trend there that this Main Character boy can’t explain and can’t understand but he decides, this one time, fuck it. He’ll play along too. He’s got a model train competition in four days, and he’s got nothing more to lose. He hits up the department store, buys the pinkest, noxious-est, fruitiest hair dye he can find, the spikiest hair gel available, and the gaudiest clothes on the thrift rack. He enters the model train competition looking like a bubble gum gijinka.
And he wins.
Suddenly, the other candy-haired contestants notice him. They talk to him. They pledge rivalries. Girls notice him. Judges applaud him. Acclaimed model train aficionados offer him internships across the world. He’s hit on something.
The main cast expands to cover just about every candy-hair cliche in the book: from the mostly-normal-looking demure school girl with the blue hair to the Naruto-est, yelling-est boy with the red-and-green spiked hair. The cool megane senpais, the purple haired tsunderes, suddenly everyone is interested in him. They’re prodigies and upstarts and underdogs and they truly believe that this main character boy is one of them.
So the main character boy maintains his ruse. He touches up his roots at dawn every morning and carefully attends to his gelled spikes and tells absolutely no one about this great, uncanny, unfathomable secret he’s stumbled upon. He wins his competitions left and right. He racks up the acclaim. He’s hailed as a prodigy of all trades, just now bursting onto the scene, and boils to the top of all his candy-haired peers.
He’s rising up, his every dream within his grasp. Until one day he gets a note under his door, taped to an old picture of his Normal Boring self from middle school, that says “You don’t belong”
So I’ve been reading/playing Stay? by E. Jade Lomax of @ink-splotch and I wanted to try and capture the enchanting valley of Elaia (and its surrounding areas) as I’ve been picturing them in a moodboard.
Featuring our beloved guardian lion statue, pre-vandalization, the Phoenix Gem, the Fiore Dam, Myka’s house (hers was the one with the olive tree, right? She was my first wife and I can’t even remember which house was hers for sure. I’m sorry Myka!), and the alleyway I picture the graduation parade going down.
Image sources: x x x ; x x x ; x , x + x , x
Is it weird that I feel like this would make a fun pet?
A postage stamp that licks you back.
was going through my old edits and found this... when I say WE WERE ROBBED, I mean it all these scenes are canon, it's insane
Hogwarts still wins all of the Halloween decorating contests.
“A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.”
....OP you are correct.
Also searching “chinchilla dust bath” is definitely worthwhile. 10/10 do recommend.
(Do I even need to include the top image source? I took the screenshot myself. I should really learn to make gifs one of these days. The first video link is also the bottom image source btw)
gerard in the famous last words video -> chinchilla taking a dust bath
And I suppose I’d be remiss if I didn’t also reblog the lovely part 2! Dancing, romance, political drama, Kylo Ren with a flower in his hair, and my gosh this art style. I love it :)
A Reylo story Art by @selunchen Story by @selunchen and @destinieswritten
(Part 1) - (Part 2) - Epilogue (Friday 23rd of November)
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Welcome, dear traveller, to our fantastical lande shrouded in swirling violet mists. Here we study how stories shape our lives, how words weave wonders before our eyes. Here we are enamoured of love and the connections betwixt people. Here we seek daring adventures in our wild lande, delving into the unknown at every turn. But mostly, here you'll find my obsession with any number of things, like Doctor Who, the Vampire Diaries, or any number of others from the ever-shifting tide of obsessions through which I cycle. My more-used sideblog is blagueofchaos if you ever wish I posted more :) She/her, 28
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