#lighthouse madness

[notyourmamasdeerbat]

A Word With Friends | June 23rd

Hello hello, my friends! I got a little carried away after work so this is very delayed, but happy Monday and happy word of the week, I am so so pleased to be hosting this beyond delightful game for the generous @hedwigoprah ! 🧡 Thank you @officialnostradamus , you absolute vernacular genius, for hosting last week as well. I loved your word!

Rules: Use the challenge word to write a sentence or scene and then tag a few friends.

This week's word is (my all time favorite word) Balter

to dance or tread clumsily, without particular grace or skill

Happy writing, dear ones! I can't wait to see what you all come up with!

Enjoy some sorely needed fluff under the cut; 2K+ words, a continuation of my very very late submission for last week, Rook and Harding recovering from dour conversation and foul portents

“No no, like this–” Rook laughed, gently taking Harding’s hand. It was a little difficult, and the dwarf had to stand on her toes to reach the rogue as they tried to bend down, awkwardly accommodating one another as Rook led them in another stumbling turn. 

Harding dissolved into giggles again, breathlessly clinging to Rook’s fingers with her own. “I’m getting dizzy. How many times do you have to spin?” 

“Twice, then come about. Ready? One, two-three, one, two-three, one two-thr– Harding!” Rook wheezed as Harding trod heavily on their foot, laughing aloud and from their chest for the first time in days. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Horrified, the scout went to release their hands. Rook kept a gentle hold and spun the dwarf slowly under their arm, recovering as they spun their shorter partner out a few steps and drew them back in just as carefully. 

“I’m fine. You should have seen Revas. He can’t waltz for anything. He likes to say he can, just don’t believe him.” 

Harding giggled, returning carefully to their starting position in the golden glow of the music room. “You’re pretty good at this. I’ve never waltzed before.” 

“Maybe you can impress Taash later.” 

Harding went cherry red right to the tips of her ears. “I– Oh, no, I don’t think–” 

Rook snickered and smoothly transitioned into another series of slow steps, rotating them round and round across the floor in the silence. Past the piano, around a low table scattered with letters and documents. “Take it slow. One, two-three, one, two three, slow quick-quick, slow quick-quick, now you’re getting it!” 

Harding exhaled, brow furrowing in concentration as she watched their footsteps move in tandem, shadows dancing on the creaking floorboards of Solas’ old respite. Lips moving quietly to continue Rook’s count, she anticipated the extension of Rook’s long arm and turned beneath it, coming back to center without pause. 

“Excellent, my friend! Oh, you’re a natural! Lady Lace Harding. You’ve got the soul of a dowager empress!” Beaming, Rook spun them once more, a little wider apart, across the floor to crash together again, picking up the pace. 

“Oh Maker— Rook–!” Harding protested breathlessly, laughing and out of breath. 

A curious hiss rippled through the chamber underneath the hollow scraping of stone as the door to the music room slid out of sight, revealing the ghostly lilac rays of the astrolabe in the library’s sanctum beyond. 

Harding threw a glance over her shoulder with a grin. “We have an audience!” 

“Manfred!” Rook slowed and carefully released Harding, whose braids stopped swaying when she did, touching her brow with a dizzy grin. “Hey, love! What are you–” 

An indignant screech echoed and bounced off the stones. Manfred startled, hissing animatedly as he clattered into the room, waving his arms wildly, clacking his mandibles together and grinding the teeth of his permanent grin. The stone door began to slide shut behind him, just a furry bundle of lightning skidded around the corner, lifted a bright eyed head, shrieked its recognition and sprang in after him. 

Assan pounced on the wayward skeleton in a tumbling bundle of bone and feathers. They scrambled against the floor, shrieking and hissing as Assan lifted his wings, flapping and squawking in triumph. 

“Woah, woah, hey!” Rook scruffed the thick skin and fuzz at the nape of the griffon’s neck, hoisting him up with a grunt as Assan went immediately limp, foreclaws hanging. “Be careful, be careful!” 

Manfred scuttled back on his hands, bony knees knocking with a joyful cry, mouth still open wide. 

Assan’s tufted tail lashed back and forth eagerly as he panted. 

“Are you two playing?” Rook laughed. 

Manfred hissed happily, and Assan squawked, wings flapping in assent. 

Harding cackled, slumping back down onto the piano bench. “Oh my goodness. I thought maybe Manfred had taken Assan’s favorite carving or something.” 

Manfred asssshhhed indignantly as he wobbled to his feet, taking both bony hands to cover his glittering lenses and bunching his shoulders. 

“You were…? Hiding? Oh, hide and– Assan, you’re supposed to let him hide first!” Rook released the griffon, heart lightening another few degrees as Assan chirped and bounded in happy circles around the skeleton. Manfred turned to follow him, clapping his hands in delight, before settling and planting his booted feet to point at Harding. 

Her hazel eyes widened as she touched the embroidered front of her overalls. “Me?” 

Manfred hissed and turned to point at Rook. Harding hmmed in understanding, starting to smile. “Oh! Us! Rook and I were— well, we were trying to dance. I think.” 

Manfred perked up like a freshly watered lily, seeming enchanted by the thought. Assan squawked and sat, curling his tail over his feet to regard Rook doubtfully. 

“What?” Rook demanded. “I can dance.” 

Assan preened a forefeather, unconvinced. Manfred bounced his hands excitedly, hissing and gurgling as he held out his phalanges to Harding. 

“Oh, no,” Harding laughed. “I’m done. I’m really done for today, I think.” 

Spirit undamped, Manfred only shrugged his collarbones and scapulas to clatter in a jaunty circle, proceeding to balter alone around the space while chattering a rhythmless melody of ‘ra’s and ‘shk’s. 

Rook grinned full tilt, amused by Curiosity’s antics. Assan concurred, cocking his head to one side as his ears folded back, eyes fixed puzzled on the skeleton and his uncoordinated jig. 

“Manfred!” The stone door ground open once more. “If I find even one vertebrae out of alignment, I assure you, I will be very cross ind– Oh!” Harried, Emmrich paused in the archway of the music room, eyes widening at the sight before him. Neve lingered close behind as she tried to catch her breath, smiling to herself with a whole host of glowing wisps drifting behind her. 

Manfred fizzed and whistled, waving over his shoulder by way of greeting as he continued to clatter and spin and wave his arms. 

“Having fun there, Fred?” Neve stepped into the room, the rhythmic clink of her prosthetic leg underscoring the skeleton’s clicks, clacks and whispers of marrow against leather. The wisps chittered curiously, drifting in to follow and illuminate the space even further. “Hey, Rook. Lace.” 

One of the wisps swooped down across the piano after stirring a few strands of Harding’s hair affectionately, bouncing across a few of the keys in a short series of discordant notes. The spirits immediately gathered round the instrument, as if recognizing it through enraptured study.

Assan purred and twined around the detective’s legs, nudging his beak under her hand. “Saw these two thundering by– wanted to see if they needed wrangling.” 

“Wrangling indeed,” Emmrich sniffed, stepping inside, even as his very stern expression was beginning to reluctantly melt into something much softer as he watched his ward sway and wiggle to his own music. The necromancer sighed and folded his hands behind him with a weary smile, regarding Rook sidelong. “I do hope we’re not interrupting.” 

“Not at all. Seeking levity. Manfred followed our example after Harding and I had a heavy chat.” Rook’s lips quirked as the wisps continued to bounce and play along the keys, before everyone grew very very still as the contradictory melody smoothed into something harmonious. Several of the wisps had lined up, jostling each other in line, before moving one after the other in an almost choreographed sequence. 

Everyone but Emmrich seemed dumbstruck as the wisps began to play a dreamy Orlesian waltz in perfect time. The professor’s mouth curved in earnest as he relaxed and settled back slightly on his heels. “Well now. Memory astounds.” 

“You mean–” Harding, enamoured, watched the spirits over her shoulder with a disbelieving grin. “They’re playing something from memory?” 

“Something from this room, or the mind of an occupant. I gather they are all quite familiar. How fascinating.” Emmrich studied the phenomenon fondly, gaze drinking in each tendril of phantasma. Neve chuckled, leaning a shoulder against the wall as she watched the spirits at play. 

“Now that’s something you don’t see every day.” 

Manfred, absolutely overjoyed by the addition of music beyond what he alone could hear, shrieked and redoubled his efforts, beckoning for Assan, whose ears shot straight up as the griffon bounded over to his friend, wings lifted experimentally. Manfred mimed reaching for Assan’s feathered joints and the griffon only spun out of his grasp, chittering and cooing, pleased with this new game as he seemed to trot in time. 

“Oh, here we go.” Grinning, Rook clicked their heels and held a hand out to Emmrich. “Professor?” 

The elder gentleman made a noise, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Oh. It does seem a shame to let the wisps’ talent go to waste.” He took Rook’s hand. “But I warn you, it’s been some time since I–” 

“Me too!” Rook interjected reassuringly, still beaming in the golden hour glow of the Fade beyond the windows. “Don’t be shy. Show us how it’s done.” 

Emmrich exhaled through his nose with a fond smile and offered his other hand with an elegant sweep of his arm. Rook took it as Emmrich rested another broad, thin fingered hand on their shoulder and Rook settled a hand carefully at his side. 

The wisps renewed their melody, a little more quickly than before, and Emmrich took a deep breath before lifting his chin and surging into a graceful tri-step with Rook in tow. The Veil Jumper caught their breath in surprise, beaming as they were swept along and adapted to the necromancer’s dapper pace. 

Harding whistled. “Wow!” 

“That’s what I was thinking,” Rook laughed as Emmrich turned them once in a neat and tidy spin, resuming their tandem. 

“Not too fast, I hope,” Emmrich hummed, confident in his earnesty. 

“Oh, bring it on,” the Veil Jumper challenged, feeling like their face might crack from smiling. 

“It may not be a waltz in definition if we push ourselves too far. Maker forbid– a foxtrot.” 

Rook laughed and shifted their hips one way, gently tugging Emmrich along with them to make way for Manfred and Assan’s spirited clamoring. 

“You’re rather adept at this,” Emmrich observed. 

“This and no other– waltzing was a force of habit in Orlais.” Rook laughed and allowed the necromancer to turn them under his arm, light on their feet. 

“Drilled into muscle memory, I gather.” Emmrich spun them across the floor in a gentle extension of his hand and Rook turned back to meet him as they resumed their dance. 

“Very much. You’re excellent.” 

“Why thank you, Rook. I admit, it took years and years of practice.” 

Neve smiled from her perch, she’d settled down beside Harding on the piano bench. “And how does a mortalitasi Fade-expert come to learn ballroom dances?” 

“Spirits have the most curious habits. Most adore music just as much as we do.” The waltz slowed and eventually drew to a close. Emmrich released Rook with a careful bow, and they returned the gesture gallantly before whirling on the piano bench and holding out their hands eagerly to Neve. 

“Your turn.” 

“No, I don’t think so,” Neve hummed, reproachful, even as her dark eyes glittered with surprised laughter. 

“Oh, but I do. Take it away, garçons.” Grinning as the wisps resumed another, jauntier melody that may have once been some kind of shanty, Rook gently pulled the detective to her feet as she sighed and relinquished her hands. 

Rook gathered her arm and Neve settled her hand in the curve of the Veil Jumper’s waist. Manfred hissed inquisitively and tapped Emmrich on the shoulder, offering both of his hands. 

“Why, Manfred, I’d be delighted.” The necromancer’s crow’s feet crinkled endearingly as he took his ward’s hands in his own and began another, slower waltz, humming along with the piano. Manfred followed determinedly, keeping time with the click of his subtalar joints. Assan sprang up onto the piano bench (barely keeping his haunches from falling off the edge in the limited space) to lay his head in Harding’s lap. 

“I don’t dance, Rook,” Neve said, even as she allowed the rogue to lead them in a graceful turn. 

“You might, if you like. You’re probably better at it than you think.” 

“You’re a little insane, you know that?” 

“What?” Rook hummed, smiling as they spun the detective under their arm and across their chest as she followed, near graceful, almost practiced. Neve never half assed anything, not even an unfamiliar dance. “You hadn’t noticed? The world’s ending and we’re all a little insane. But the wisps are playing piano. I think I’ve been out-crazied. Just for tonight.” 

Neve grinned and tossed her head to flick a lock of dark hair over her shoulder as they turned and spun throughout the music room, the steady clink-clink of her leg keeping excellent tempo. “Watch your toes. This thing isn’t built for waltzing.” 

“Oh, don’t worry. These boots have seen everything.” 

“You invest in anything steel capped?” 

“Next stop at the market if you manage to break my foot. Which you haven’t.” 

“Yet.” 

The uplifting melody grew romantic and classical once more as the door to the music room slid open with the rattling groan of marble and granite. Lucanis stood in the doorway, eyes widening slightly at the sight before him in the warm glow of the chamber. 

“Ah, Lucanis!” Emmrich greeted, waltzing by in the arms of his skeletal companion. “Fine evening, isn’t it?” 

Harding giggled at the look on the assassin’s face. 

Rook beamed over Neve’s shoulder, suddenly feeling startled and exposed, even as they valiantly recalled their count and turned with the detective once more, face heating. “Hey, you.” 

“Hello.” Lucanis blinked, cradling a cup of coffee in his hands. “Am I interrupting?” 

“Not at all.” Neve broke from Rook abruptly and pushed them towards the Antivan Crow with a palm against their lower back, her voice low and sly. “The more the merrier.”

Tagging my beloveds! Do with this what you will and enjoy the game! Remember to have a snack and drink some water- your kidneys will thank you. 🫗💝

@fenrelmercar @draco-illius-noctis @redheadsramblings @the-bear-and-his-sunbird @davrinsleftpectoral @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @sunny374940 @nevarrantorte @caughtnyact @seaglassmelody @strugglinggranola @jenn2d2 @thesummerstorms @woundedsoul12

[flowersforthemachines]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard be like. Here, have two companions who enjoy reading romance books but have the least relationship experience because of the circumstances of their lives despite deep down likely yearning for a more intimate connection.

They are going to have the least romance content and you can only kiss them once. You're welcome.

[regularlasagna]

some studies from the last few days

[saltpepperbeard]

like, i’m just saying, so much of our show is staring down a dire situation right in the eyes and refusing to give up.

lucius was killed? no he wasn’t; we refused to believe it. he was in the walls. he was in a hidden compartment. and then bam, there he was on the red flag.

ed was killed? no he wasn’t; he was in the gravy basket, man. stede saw his body, and helped guide him right back through the power of love.

the english was attacking? it’s suicide? no it wasn’t; the crew was a united front, and even despite loss, their spirit will always exist through the empire. they will not be defeated no matter what. they will always be together in some way or another.

it’s dire. it’s horrible. it’s so incredibly heartbreaking and frustrating. but we’re all here for each other. we’re all strong as ever. and i really want to believe we can stare all of this down, give a huge “no,” and swim back up to the surface with our beloved show in tow.

[resident-rats]

I really want to write fanfiction where Leon goes insane by the sea, but I think that’s also just me projecting bc I am also going insane by the sea 🤝🏻

[switchyfox]

Tagged by @bloodanddiscoballs, thank you💕

Rules: without naming them, post a gif from ten of your favorite films and then tag ten people to do the same.

Tagging (no pressure to do it though) @yumi-uwu @frying-panties @thiphus @mad-birds @thesem @shadowofthesparkle @markala5 @d1sc01nf3rn0 @organized-decay @gregorivs-brvnigildae

[aces-to-apples]

Wrt fans preferring certain other Veilguard companion ships to have happened instead of the ones we got, I'm not sure how to explain that the ships we got, particularly Lucanis/Neve, make the most sense for the characters as presented.

Like, sure, I may prefer the tension of Davrin's and Lucanis's antagonism and want to read fanfiction of them banging it out, but would Davrin ever pursue a human-demon pair (which scares him, he doesn't trust like that) whose profession (and, frankly, entire life) revolves around something Davrin finds morally repugnant? And would Lucanis nurture an interest in a man who disdains his entire life's (and family's) work and purpose, who is immediately hostile towards everything about him, including the thing that helped him survive an entire year of fucking torture, and mocks and threatens him for basically every banter/conversation we witness up til they force themselves to resolve their shit post-Weisshaupt?

And then Neve/Bellara. Would Neve feel romantic interest, nurse and pursue it, for a person whose naïvete makes her think reading serials is comparable to real life experience, and who idolizes Neve specifically, to the point of having trouble treating her like a normal person? Now, to be fair to Bellara, her romance is so far outside my realm of interest that I haven't come across anything about it in the wild, so I don't know how Bellarook goes, but somehow I can't see her, in the midst of all the madness, shooting her shot with her personal hero whom she has to be repeatedly reminded to just use their name.

Look, I'm not knocking any of these ships (and on a quick tangent: I am disappointed that the Black man and Asian woman companions don't get NPC romances, that makes me sad and I wouldn't mind them pairing up together about it), as stated I even like Davrin/Lucanis to an extent, but I think some people making these complaints are. Hmm. How to phrase it...

It's like, yes, enemies/antagonists-to-lovers is a fun trope; yes, ""sunshine/stormcloud"" is a fun trope; but some of y'all are putting the tropes above the characters, and I don't get that at all. Like, one) not to put too fine a point on it but that's what fanfic is for, mixing and matching the characters like dolls to our personal taste, and two) we get so much characterization in this game that I don't feel like we need tropes to paper over holes in the canon.

I mean, tropes are narrative shorthand, but we have an actual narrative, you know?

[taamlok]

step 1: learn how to mod with frosty

step 2: full LoF recolour collection

step 3: LoF lighthouse theme

step 4: fully develop brain or kill self

[nitrateglow]

Spooky Season 2024: 23-31

House (dir. Nobuhiko Obayashi, 1977)

A teenage girl nicknamed Gorgeous and her friends travel to her aged aunt's house for the summer, not realizing the aunt is a people-devouring ghost and her house is one giant supernatural booby trap.

House reeks of the '70s with its psychedelic visuals and rock soundtrack, and yet it never feels "dated" to me. Okay, maybe I'm not the best person to judge that considering I binge nickelodeon-era one-reelers for fun, but House is so bizarre and uniquely its own weird thing that it transcends its original disco-era milieu. Beyond the goofball humor and erratic editing, House is concerned with the usual in gothic stories, mainly how past traumas linger on into the present (in this case, the aunt's grief over a fiance who went missing during WWII, and Gorgeous longing for her deceased mother).

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (dir. Don Siegel, 1956)

A small California town is overtaken by an alien species who replicate and replace the humans living there. Transformations result in soulless beings devoid of all emotion.

The original 1956 version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers is often boiled down to being a Red Scare allegory. Both of the times I've seen it, I feel it is so much richer than that. You could read it any number of ways and I think that openness to interpretation is what has made the story so ripe for retelling over the years.

While slightly overshadowed by the 1978 version these days, the 1956 adaptation remains a damn great horror movie in its own right. I usually don't care for the alien invasion movies of this period, but this one is genuinely chilling with a minimum of tension-spoiling cheese (not that I'm against cheese). The camera angles become more tilted as the situation grows more dangerous and the perspective more warped. The filmmaking hits harder because the earlier scenes are filmed in a blander, more straightforward way too. Good stuff.

The Sitter (dir. Fred Walton, 1977)

This creepy little short film take on the babysitter urban legend was later expanded into the feature When a Stranger Calls by its director Fred Walton. Aside from the opening 20 minutes, I find When a Stranger Calls a dull trek and so I tend to just revisit this tight little short film instead. However, it does lack Carol Kane... maybe I should just rewatch the opening of When a Stranger Calls every year?

Regardless, this is still an effective movie and worth seeing. You can find it free on YouTube.

Dracula (dir. Tod Browning, 1931)

Count Dracula-- a suave, mysterious nobleman who happens to be a bloodsucking member of the undead-- moves to modern England to snack on the populace.

Dracula is not my favorite of the Universal horror classics. Part of me sympathizes with its critics, who find the narrative clunky once it leaves Transylvania. I'm also not fond of Helen Chandler's rather vapid Mina-- not just because the book's Mina is a fabulous heroine and deserves better, but because the character herself seems little more than a breathing prop. Being slowly turned into a soulless, bloodsucking monster should be horrifying, but neither Chandler's performance nor the film hammers home that urgency.

Still, there is much to admire about Dracula. Its primitive qualities enhance the horror, particularly the lack of soundtrack and the sense of stillness in much of the blocking, Dwight Frye being a little freak extraordinaire, and Lugosi's performance. He truly appears uncanny, his deliberate speaking and gestures adding to the sense that Dracula exists outside of the present, that he should have been in the grave long ago. Few films capture that classic gothic atmosphere so well, the decay, the tattered decadence.

Wait Until Dark (dir. Terence Young, 1967)

When a shipment of heroin hidden in a doll is inadvertently brought into her possession, a recently blinded housewife named Susy Hendrix engages in battle of wits with a trio of dangerous criminals out to get the drugs back. Complications include: Susy not knowing where the doll is, the criminals turning on one another, and Susy having to work out her own psychological vulnerabilities. The conflict escalates to violence, especially when it becomes clear the criminal ringleader Harry Roat is willing to torture Susy just for his own entertainment.

I think anyone who follows this blog knows what I think of this film-- I adore it beyond all reason. I have written a lot about it (if you're interested, I recorded an entire commentary track for it two years ago), so I'm not going to repeat too much. It's a great one-location thriller with engaging characters, a slow-burn sinister tone, dark humor, and one of the best final confrontations between a hero and villain in movie history. It feels like a movie specifically designed to appeal to me. Come to experience Audrey Hepburn being badass, stay for evil beatnik Alan Arkin racking up a body count.

The Lighthouse (dir. Robert Eggers, 2019)

Two lighthouse keepers descend into madness when stranded on a remote New England island. Homoerotic tension, disintegration of identity, seagull's pooping in inconvenient places, mermaid sex fantasies, and lots of possible gaslighting ensue. And what of the mysterious light inside the lighthouse, an entity that seems to be almost supernatural in its pull?

I rewatched this with my youngest sister who usually doesn't like horror at all. We both had a really good time though! The film is undeniably creepy, but there's a lot of dark humor present too. It doesn't take the edge off the chilling scenes, but it does prevent the experience from getting too grim, I think. Of Eggers' current filmography, it's definitely the closest to being a comedy, if only because Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe have a sinister odd couple dynamic.

A Page of Madness (dir. Teinosuke Kinugasa, 1926)

When his wife is committed to an asylum, an old man takes a janitor job at the institution. The wife's mental condition strains his relationship with his daughter and future son-in-law, and then the janitor's own mind begins to lose track of the line between delusion and reality. Trippiness ensues.

I first saw this film on TCM in the middle of the night, which may be the ideal way to view this surrealistic silent classic. It was designed to be experimental compared to conventional Japanese movies of the time. There are no intertitles at all, so following the story can be confusing, even before the protagonist starts to lose control of his perceptions. However, it's like nothing else and worth seeing for those who want a movie that marries 1920s surrealism with expressionistic dread.

The Phantom of the Opera (dir. Rupert Julian, 1925)

A mysterious "Phantom" is haunting the Paris Opera, blackmailing, bribing, and even murdering to make sure Christine Daae, an aspiring singer and the object of his obsession, will be the ultimate prima donna.

The Lon Chaney POTO is a weirdly nostalgic watch. I was obsessed with it as a teenager and watched it often. I still adore it. Chaney's performance is nothing short of brilliant and the gothic sets remain spectacular. I love Chaney!Erik's lair and the sense of size it has.

SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING

I used to dislike the ending to this version, where Erik is unredeemed and there's a big chase through the Paris streets. While I would have preferred the ending as originally filmed, in which Erik releases Christine and dies of a broken heart, I admire the direction of that last chase and Erik's final, memorable gesture of contempt to the mob about to claim his life. It's perfection.

Castle of Otranto (dir. Jan Svankmajer, 1977)

Maybe counting this as "horror" is a stretch. It's an odd beat of a short regardless. It's framed as a mockumentary in which an academic argues that the events of the seminal gothic novel The Castle of Otranto really happened, but not in Italy (as in the original text), but in Czechoslavakia. This mockumentary is intercut with animated segments depicting key episodes from the novel, such as an oversized helmet falling from the sky to crush the villain's heir to death (yes, that actually happens) and all the quasi-incestuous drama between the characters.

Most reviewers come to this film because they're fans of the director Jan Svankmajer. They know nothing about The Castle of Otranto. I'm the opposite: I know nothing about Svankmajer, but I have read the gothic lunacy that is Otranto. I enjoyed seeing it adapted in some form and the metafictional elements of this short ape similar conventions throughout gothic literature in general, only in a very '70s way.

[brokehorrorfan]

Artwork from Nan Lawson's "Terrain" exhibit is available from Gallery 1988 with 11x14 giclee prints, limited to 20 per design, for $40.

Pieces include Mad Max: Fury Road, Nope, The Green Knight, Dune, Blade Runner, Everything Everywhere All at Once, and The Lighthouse.

[scarabtea]

I really don’t get into tumblr discourse or whatever and I intend to keep it that way but I’m sleep deprived and I’ve been seeing some shit so bear with me, but I think there’s a real… callous attitude with regards to how CERTAIN Scream fans will interact with Billy x Stu content bc they don’t like gay people getting in the way of their ‘favourable straight relationships’ and it really shows. you do not HAVE to like or interact w/ stuilly, and I think people have the right to produce any other ship media they want, but I’ve seen this weird trend with these certain people pushing their straight content into places where it really shouldn’t be - and where it’s honestly obnoxious for it to be, if that makes any sense.

I mean I had a whole endless draft abt this which I decided will never see the light of day because I can’t word my thoughts well enough right now but to try summarise it without going into as much detail:

a homosexual couple written by a gay screenwriter, inspired by real gay people, would be canon if it was straight, written in the era of “don’t ask, don’t tell”, supported by both actors and costars, and all I’m saying is these certain people wouldn’t act the way they’re acting if billy loomis was a woman or something.

but apparently gay portrayals in media are only real, and only deserve respect when they’re outright announced, and no amount of clear context behind it is enough to change someone’s mind unless they had actually made love on the big screen or some shit. but also remember that outright stating a relationship is gay is ‘shoving it in the face’ of those poor people who don’t want to see it! so I guess really this content just shouldn’t exist according to them.

and again this is a very specific subset of person that I’m getting at here. I don’t care if you make x reader content, don’t care if you do self inserts, this is aimed at a VERY particular type of person. I have a feeling maybe one or two of my followers will actually understand what I am blabbering about, bc if you know what I mean then you KNOW.

[kalirya]

I can't believe Veilguard gives you a sadistic choice before you've even gotten all of the companions. I wasn't expecting one so soon lmfao.

My Rook is a Shadow Dragon so the choice was basically made for me, but Lucanis :(

[nanlawson]

Prints from my show TERRAIN are now online at

[toastannas]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE CANADIANS GOT 1121 (DEMO) AND DIE4ME

[david-watts]

I don't want to talk about this too much for a few reasons but firstly. incredible how different things can seem if you're not suffering symptoms. truly the 'nothing in life matters' meme but replace it with 'I know nothing about my favourite guy (t. e.)'. but still hole in brain aside most of that was suffering symptoms as bad of an excuse as either of those are

[lovinggreeniehours]

really random post sponsored by me almost sleeping on the couch but man what if esper fell asleep on sylus's couch. idk