I Really Like It - Tumblr Posts
Meeting the council in Aretia
Violet: Be myself? Brennan, I have one day to win everyone over. How long did it take for you guys to start liking me?
Bodhi: Couple of weeks.
Xaden: Six months.
Imogen: Jury’s still out on that one.
Violet: See, Brennan? “Be myself”. What kind of bullshit garbage advice is that?
Meeting the council in Aretia
Violet: Be myself? Brennan, I have one day to win everyone over. How long did it take for you guys to start liking me?
Bodhi: Couple of weeks.
Xaden: Six months.
Imogen: Jury’s still out on that one.
Violet: See, Brennan? “Be myself”. What kind of bullshit garbage advice is that?
the aliens are talking
crowns by @charseraph
EPISODES REVIEW!!!!!!!!
🎶The boys are back in town!🎶
Monty and Moon, the dream team are back!
I'm liking the new thumbnail art. Shout out to whoever is making the thumbnails their style reminds me of mid-2000's cartoon network.
Also, anyone else morbidly curious about how Moon will react when he meets the Astrals?
This was a sad one, not gonna lie. I loved this episode, tho. Earth trying to wrap her head around that's happened and her saying she just wants to be a good person 😢 and her discussion on if it's right to bring Solar back cause truth be told we don't know if he'd want to come back, I mean he probably would jump at the chance to be back with his family but again we don't know. Who's to say he's not at peace in Animatronic Heaven? But I'm sure he'd love to see his family again. (Oh, boy is he in for a surprise)
I really did love this episode. It was a sad one but a good kind of sad
They got kronked, and I love every minute of it.
11/10! 👏 👏 👏
Made some Snowbird things (again) using this picrew
Also some that match the conditions (sort of) that the post I found this with had [your current self with the younger version of yourself]
Well, that's just rude.
I feel oddly betrayed XD
Anyway, next in my least of demands: where's DUKE?!
silly billies
That last post reminded me that I didn’t put pictures of my new haircut on here so here ya go
and then I put it in pigtails today
also, headphones.
there ya go, now ya know :)
"Stillness... then strike" is just another way of saying "red light, green light".
"Stillness... then strike" is just another way of saying "red light, green light".
Haikyuu Doodles (Click for better quality)
Fanart of @so-na-r ‘s sammy because he’s my favourite character in their au.
I haven’t used a pen in awhile for drawings so he’s a bit wonky and sketchy.
Some doodles of the story :D "Looks like someone like to drawing a lot of it"
ha cha cha
RAHHHHHH UR NEW THEME IS SO COOL
YAAA THANKS TOMI >:333
So I started The Umbrella Academy (I'm at s1 ep6) and here my observations:
-I absolutely hate this incestuous romance between Allison and Luther. I think it's weird and gross and I feel very uncomfortable every time I see their romantic scenes.
-I had a bad feeling for Leonard since his first apparence and I hate being right like this.
-Five is a broken homicidal little bitch and I love him.
-Klaus my beloved junkie.
-Vanya has the charisma of a stick bug and I will protect her with my life.
-They're all fucked but I love them so much.
-Grace freaking me out but I don't think she is bad.
-If the old man wasn't already dead I would kill him myself and with a marvelous joy.
-Please give me more Ben's screen time 😭 and also how the fuck did he dies? I want to know!
-Luther's obsession with being N°1 is not healthy ~
-POGO WHAT DO YOU WANT TO HIDE???
-I would love to see more flashback of their childhood.
-Hazel and Cha-Cha relationship OMG my heart!
-I think Ben have a very strong presence as a ghost because he is often around Klaus even when he is not so sober, and being high is supposed to keep the ghost away.
Kloktober Day 4: Favorite Headcanon
Summary: The Duel... according to Skwisgaar
Warnings: A bit of swearing
Characters: Toki, Skwisgaar, and the guys (as mostly background)
Read here on Ao3
or read below for more
Some time ago…
After running his hands under cold water for what felt like an eternity, Skwisgaar gave up and declared his fingers raw and ruined for the next several days. After gently dabbing them with a paper towel, he kicked the door open and returned to the rented studio room where the other three members of the band were nearly done packing their instruments. Feeling a mild pang across his middle-right finger, Skwisgaar sent the entire hand into a shaking frenzy as he neared his resting guitar, continuing the uneven jerks until the discomfort was replaced with only the pulse and throb of blood. On his way over, he passed Pickles who, upon taking notice of his friend’s discomforting shakes, sent a single apologetic look before hurriedly rolling up the rest of the blue mat he was assigned to stowing for the weekend.
Under normal situations, Skwisgaar might have been opposed to such a reaction, but given today’s achievement, decided to let it go, and as he brought himself down to pack his guitar away, couldn't help but break into a silent, but proud grin. After repeatedly telling the members that Dethklok didn’t need another guitarist to maintain a satisfying brutal sound, Pickles got it in his head to make this week’s session an audition for a rhythm guitarist. Skwisgaar had disagreed with the idea from the very beginning, and to prove to everyone that such an audition was unnecessary, he had spent the entire week mastering, no, exceeding Magnus’ old parts, and showed everyone just how gruesome a single guitar chord could sound. Then, when those prospective new members finally arrived to make their appointment, Skwisgaar went out of his way to test and outperform them. It had been an arduous day for everyone, but more so for him than anyone else; out of the twelve calls they received, eight guitarists of varying skills showed, and each time Skwisgaar picked up his guitar and blasted them away with near perfect performances. By the sixth, Nathan was more than convinced to cancel the rest of the appointment, but Skwisgaar decided to commit to the rest (if only to rub it in Pickles’ face).
“Sooo,” Pickles called out to everyone, “I was thinkin’, on account of Skwis kicking ass, I figure we go out an’ get some food? I’m buyin.”
Skwisgaar peered up to catch the others all staring at Pickles’ gracious offering.
“Now you're talking!” Murderface clapped his hands together. “What are we getting?”
“Well, figure I’d let Skwisgaar decide.” Pickles answered while staring at the back of his hand, as though something on it had caught his interest. With a snort, Skwisgaar refrained from becoming too cocky, and held his smile in place while privately accepting Pickles’ less than open apology.
He had just finished removing the strap from his guitar when the double doors’ metal frames creaked open.
A slender boy dressed in a pale blue top and weathered jeans creeped into the room. “H-Hellos?” His eyes winced as he stepped further into the dark studio room. With nothing else to do, Nathan approached while the boy rubbed his eyes and tried to adjust to his new settings. With his things nearly packed, Skwisgaar felt obliged to follow, but refrained when his eyes caught the shape of an unusual-looking guitar case.
“Can we help you?”
The boy ceased the rubbing to nervously peer up at Nathan. “My names ams Toki,” he answered, voice fading into a light gasp as Nathan’s shadow cast over him. “I am here’s for the auditions?”
A sharp click echoed out of Pickles’ lips as he winced at the boy’s request. “Oh, dood. We finished that a while ago.”
“Yeah. You just caught us on our way out,” Nathan said, then gestured a chipped nail to the doors.
The boy–Toki, was it? – sank upon hearing the news. “Huh?”
“Yeah.” Murderface shrugged before unsympathetically crossing his arms. “Sho, uhhh, we’re gonna need you to moshey on out…”
Skwisgaar sat quietly in the dark side of the studio, his sore thumb tapping anxiously against his guitar’s frame as he watched Toki settle under better lighting. He had believed Toki to be a young boy, no older than fifteen, but upon a better glance Skwisgaar realized something was off, something familiar. The youthful eyes had a slight gray tinge surrounding his sockets, which seemed weirdly pronounced. It wasn't the only odd feature that stood out under the light; Toki’s entire frame wasn't so slender, rather it was slowly wasting away. The others hadn’t picked up on it, likely because they were so distracted by Toki removing his cap and falling into a fit of pleas and begging for an audition, but even from a distance, Skwisgaar could pick out the signs that something was amiss. The boy was pale, cheeks shallower than they should be, and his hair had a sheen to it that suggested a lack of proper bathing. Given the clean look on his arms and face, the kid did himself up as best he could before arriving here, but Skwisgaar could tell by Toki’s clothing that the guys ahead were likely inhaling something musty.
“Please gives me a chance,” the boy dropped to his knees and pleaded in front of the others. As he slumped, Skwisgaar saw that the boy’s colorful guitar case appeared to of a thinner material, possibly homemade. The strap attached looked frail and ribbon like. Meanwhile, Toki continued pleading with the men, “I didn’t means to be lates. I didn't gets a lot of sleeps, and wokes up late. I gots the times for the bus stops wrong, and missed its.”
Skwisgaar had witnessed this level of desperation before. Years ago, it was his reflection staring back at him, just hours before yet another band audition. In a moment, Skwisgaar related to Toki’s tribulations. In a strange way, though the boy looked nothing like him, he couldn’t help but believe something about this was meant to be. Another young runaway foreigner, who wanted nothing more than to prove himself with music. What were the odds?
“Alrights.” Skwisgaar announced, then grabbed his guitar’s strap and stepped out into the light. The rest of Dethklok turned, and Toki, who had reduced himself to a sad dwelling on the floor, halted his pleas to gaze up at him. “I ams downs for an audition.”
“Huh?” Toki, along with his sinking frown, immediately rose with a jubilant cry. “Reallies?”
Pickles turned to Skwisgaar with a slight frown. “Ya’ don’t need to do this, dood.”
Both Nathan and Murderface expressed the same concern, though Nathan’s occasional brow twitch made Skwisgaar temporarily consider if he too picked up on the smell and dirtied fingernails.
“I wants to,” Skwisgaar said, then, gripping his guitar, turned his attention to Toki. “Tokis, was it? I ams Skwisgaar. I ams this band’s guitarists. If you wants to join this bands, you must be ables to keeps up with me’s. Thinks you can’s do dat?”
The question alone proved itself to be a test, and once uttered, Skwisgaar something arose in Toki. Behind the nervousness and fatigue that stained the boy’s pupils, he could make out the flames of determination rising through the murkiness.
“Yes, I thinks I cans,” Toki answered with some confidence, albeit shaky. The confirmation further convinced Skwisgaar he made the right choice, and as he waited for Toki to free his guitar from the knitted case, he began to steady his hands over his guitar’s strings. His fingers still pulsed from a long afternoon of playing, and with food recently on his mind, Skwisgaar was also very aware of the guitar’s weight pressed into his stiff shoulders, hips and legs, along with the emptiness of his stomach.
He wondered about the status of his competitor. No doubt Toki would be playing with similar handicaps, perhaps far worse than the ones he currently suffered with. Toki mentioned not getting good sleep. Was the boy resting on a shelter cot, or was he braving a night on the streets?
We ams playing on equal grounds, Skwisgaar informed himself, and with determination matching Toki’s own, he called Toki to bring out his instrument.
Toki thanked him for the opportunity before hastily freeing his guitar from its soft case. Much to Skwisgaar’s disappointment, the instrument was in less than stellar condition. The guitar was dented, body scratched in paces, and he could tell the string’s brand and quality was subpar. The neck was chipped in places, and Skwisgaar could see flecks of tape hanging from the backside. The instrument’s condition was such a travesty that even Murderface raised a brow as Toki raised it protectively against his chest. There was no strap to hoist around his shoulder; instead, at the base of its body hung a frail and torn shoelace.
Somehow, Skwisgaar knew this was supposed to be, that it was always intended for him to face this teen, and that, despite their condition, they’d place their hearts out. Skwisgaar was sure of it, and he raised his hand high, guitar pick pressed tight between his sore finger and thumb, and he brought it down to initiate the duel.
And…well, Toki was alright. He certainly wasn't a bad guitarist, but it quickly became apparent to Skwisgaar that the boy was nowhere near his skill level. He wasn't even half the player Skwisgaar considered himself to be, and that was taking into account their current handicaps. Right from the beginning, Toki struggled to stay in rhythm with him. Though he certainly did better than those who came before him, Skwisgaar could still make out the occasional fumble, the fingers crashing into one another, or pressing down on the wrong strings. The longer they played, the more apparent it became, and for a while, Skwisgaar wondered why Toki continued to play when it was so obvious he wasn't near his level. The boy pushed and pushed, making louder and clearer mistakes, and for a few bars he was in line with Skwisgaar, and while their sounds were distinctly unique for the wrong reasons, Skwisgaar had to admit to himself the kid had potential. Perhaps one day–
A loud screech ripped across the room, followed by a thud and vibrating cry of a guitar. Toki stared at his fallen guitar as he rubbed his tender fingers. “Oh, craps.”
Around them, Nathan and the others cringed. They sent one another looks, unsure of how to politely tell the boy he had failed, and rightfully so.
Pickles was the first to break line, and he gave Toki a light, almost apologetic pat on the shoulder. “Aw, you did so well, too.”
“But you, uhh, blew the last part,” Nathan remarked.
Perhaps one day he’lls be troubles, Skwisgaar finished his thought as he glanced at his own bloodied fingers.
Nathan picked up Toki’s ruined guitar, while Pickles and Murderface kindly informed Toki he didn't make the cut. Toki accepted his instrument from Nathan and slowly returned it into its case. Skwisgaar watched Toki rise, thanked him for the opportunity once more, and offered his hand. Skwisgaar couldn't explain why he didn’t, nor why he didn't say anything until Toki nearly pushed through the exit. It wasn't the blood or pride that held him back, but something else. Shock, perhaps?
“Waits!”
It didn't take a genius to see there was potential. Toki wasn't the best right now, far from it, but he had something Skwisgaar couldn't ignore. Toki was persistent. He was tired, hungry and smelled like a bus station, but he still tried to catch up with him. It was that perseverance Skwisgaar respected, and while it lacked the intrigue and fancy one might expect upon reviewing Toki’s form, nor was the reason worthy of explaining to those who longed for a treacherous and exhilarating duel between artists, it was, to Skwisgaar, as good a reason as any. It certainly garnered a questionable reaction from the others as he pulled Toki from the door and back to the rest of Dethklok, remarking it as a mystical trait before insisting they try Toki out for a while, “to sees what he ams really mades of’s.”
Of course they didn't understand, but after a long afternoon of kicking musical ass and proving to Pickles, Nathan and Murderface he was competent enough to know what was in the best interest for the band, nobody felt like arguing. With some hesitant shrugs, they welcomed Toki into the fold.
As Nathan helped their newest member out the door, Murderface in tow and carelessly dragging his things, Pickles slowed and nudged Skwisgaar in the waist.
“Yer sure about this?” He asked, raising a brow before letting his pupils point towards their newest member.
Another dull pang seared Skwisgaar’s fingertips. With a slight wince, he took one mere glance at Toki, then competently responded with, “Ja, I ams.”
Pickles snickered. “Alright,” he said, then drew his arms up in a shrug. “But just so ya know, yer buying his meal.”