#out from underneath

[dustedmagazine]

Prism Shores — Out from Underneath (Meritorio)

Prism Shores shrouds indie rock vulnerability in shimmering washes of guitar noise. A flickering confession erupts into grand romantic gestures, as radiant jangle shimmers and dissolves into dissonance. This is the second full-length album for this Montreal-based foursome, following 2022’s Inside my Diving Bell, and they have considerably cleaned up their sound in the interim. Tight harmonies, clear lines of melodic arc and sharp interplay between the instruments bring their heartsore firestorm into focus.

“Overplayed My Hand,” for instance, rambles into the frame on a Sadies-esque psychedelic jangle, then veers off into keening, caroming romantic longing, in the bittersweet chorus. Like a lot of their songs, it is sweet and sad at the same time. Its bubbly rhythms pulse energetically in the moment but step back and they are tinged by retrospective angst.

The band fluctuates between the individual-focused self-revelation of indie pop and the more communal textures of all-hands guitar noise. The main singer, Jack MacKenzie, pulls you in with soft rumination, but he’ll be swamped before the end of the song but flaring, distorting walls of guitar. Prism Shores likes to say that they split the difference between C86 pop and shoegaze, and indeed you can hear bits of the agitated jangle of bands like Bogshed, Close Lobsters and the Pastels in their strummy flights of romance. The churn and drone of MBV rises out of cuts like “Tourniquet,” too, putting meat and dissonance under its feathery melody.  

It's fun to pick influences out, but mainly Out from Underneath is a remarkably enjoyable bit of guitar pop, twee but with some muscle, bright but with shadowy undertones. A lot of bands are working this vein — most of the Slumberland roster, for instance — but Prism Shores is unusually good at it. If you ever loved that first Pains of Being Pure at Heart record, give yourself a treat. Try this one.

Jennifer Kelly

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

He should be at the Adventurer's Guild.

[l3irdl3rain]

did you ever decide on the round orange boy/1000$ for cat guy

I was NOT proud of being the person with 8 cats. Every time I go TSC to buy my 120 pounds of cat litter they say “back again?”. I don’t even want to discuss the cost of feeding this many cats. But perhaps worst of all was having to say “I have 8 cats” out loud. Do you know what is even more embarrassing? Saying “I have 9 cats” (this is all meant in jest. This is who I am. I’ve accepted it)

He got dropped off yesterday at 9am and today he had his first visit with Doc.

Marty is 11 years old and he’s weighing in at a whopping 17 pounds. He has IBS and a very mild heart murmur. In his old home he pooped (and sometimes peed) in the shower, which is why it was difficult to find someone to take him when his owner got sick and could no longer care for him.

We’re hoping to be able to get him off the steroid he’s been on long term, but IBD in cats can be so difficult. Our clinic cat has IBD and it took a long time to get it under control without medications. The heart murmur is really very mild and not a huge concern. And some weight loss should take the stress off his heart

He’s temporarily being housed in the bathroom but he came from a multi-cat household so I’m hoping to have him quickly introduced to my gang. He’s still very nervous but he’s very sweet.

[tuinendraws]

A while ago there was going around an art challenge where you draw your favourite Fire Emblem character of each letter of the alphabet. Figured I'd give it a shot, let's see if I can finish this. Here's ABC.

[quirkle2]

scenes that make me wanna eat drywall dust

[frittbox]

"The website is cleaned now. Nothing should be in there and I’ll make sure it won’t happen again." - W.

"We have since recreated our website in what we feel to be a cleaner and more maintained space with heightened security." - The Welcome Home Restoration Team

Sounds like they went through a lot of trouble to keep someone quiet...

Alternate versions below vvv

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Rapunzel AU!

Cale has been inside of the tower for his entire life. His hair is long, much longer than his brother's. His brother doesn't have a name. Cale knows they're brothers though- because they both have red hair, even if Brother has short hair and Cale does not.

Ever since Cale was 12, he'd been dreaming of a different world. He went to sleep and woke up as someone named Kim Roksu. This Kim Roksu was not in a similar situation as he was- Kim Roksu wandered the streets and ate food from the floor and hid in the small cabinet in his uncle's house. Kim Roksu was weak and strong.

Kim Roksu is a friend to Cale. When Cale wants to see the outside, he sleeps, and he dreams.

Kim Roksu figured out how to communicate with Cale after several years of simple body swapping.

Somehow, they are similar! They both agree that being trash is the best. Kim Roksu because it's easier being a bad person than a good person, and Cale because Brother won't let him be trashy and he wishes he could throw a fit without Brother punishing him.

"Your brother keeps you in a tower?" Roksu asks when he learns.

"Yeah. Is that weird?"

"Well, I don't know anyone who stays in a tower." Cale kicks a rock on the sidewalk with his barefoot, sending it skidding across the dirt road. "Ow, my toe." Roksu complains blandly.

Sharing a body, they also share the same sensations.

"You barely felt that and you know it."

"Shut up."

"You shut up." Cale retorts. He wants to say more, but he swallows those words and tucks them into his chest.

'The bruise over your eye hurts more but you don't complain about that.'

He bites his lip and looks down.

"Do you think," he asks quietly, "if I asked Brother to let me out, he would?"

Roksu, disembodied and floating over his body, frowns. "You haven't asked before?"

Cale smiles bitterly in Roksu's body. "... I did, once." After, Brother said he was going to be leaving for two weeks, and told Cale to ration his food well. Cale knew better than to think it was a coincidence. He didn't have Roksu yet. It was very lonely for a long time.

Roksu doesn't say anything.

"If," his voice trembles, "If I got out. If I left..."

"Cale." Roksu stops him. Cale winces, expecting to be reprimanded.

"You are trash. Trash does whatever they want, no matter what anyone says. If you want to leave, then leave." Roksu's translucent body floats over to stand in front of Cale. Sternly, he says, "Don't worry about useless things. Worry about making a plan and executing it."

Then, abruptly, Roksu turns and ignores him. Cale laughs and folds in half, a childish grin splitting his malnourished cheeks. How can someone be so blunt but so shy? Kim Roksu frowns, but it looks like a pout. Cale rubs away a tear and looks up at the back of his friend. No, the person who sometimes feels more like a brother to him than his real brother.

"And will you help me?"

Roksu rolls his eyes. "Don't ask something so obvious."

Cale smiles and looks down. "Right. Obvious, isn't it?"

Something like receiving help wasn't obvious to either of them. Yet, when it came to the two of them together, it was the most obvious thing in the world. It wasn't obvious with Brother, who he shared blood with. But Kim Roksu, who was abused and beaten down at every turn, chose to welcome a wandering soul into his body and share everything with him.

'You're the one who shouldn't want to be here,' Kim Roksu said when they first started talking and Cale asked why he didn't try to force Cale out. 'When you're in control, I can relax. Why would I want you to leave? That's so difficult.'

They learned that Kim Roksu really could force Cale out when his uncle kicked Cale, sending Kim Roksu's body sprawling onto the floor, then stomped on his arm so hard they heard a clear snap. For Cale it only hurt for a short moment. Roksu threw him out so fast you could imagine that he had practiced beforehand.

Every day and night, Cale slept to try and enter Roksu's body, check on him, share the pain, but Roksu kicked him out every time. It wasn't until four weeks later that Roksu let Cale back in.

Even that much pain was a lot for being four weeks after the incident, but while Cale was struggling to keep his cool, Roksu floated around him and spoke as if nothing was wrong. When Cale started sweating a few hours later Roksu kicked him out again.

'Don't be stubborn,' he said when Cale returned the next night. 'Just say that it hurts. If you still want to stay after you admit that it hurts then I won't kick you out.'

It was a very Kim Roksu thing to do.

"Brother," Cale asks one day at 15, impatiently brushing his hair. He gets scolded lightly, and Brother takes the brush from him. "I read in a book about something called a phone. Do you have one?"

Brother gives him a blank look. Then, as if it had been a lie, his expression changes into something kind and gentle. "Fone? Can you show me the book?"

Cale and Brother roughly root around in every book for anything like the so-called 'Fone,' coming up short.

"Maybe it was a dream," Cale excuses it like that, rubbing his neck. Brother looks at him, worried.

"It must have been. Get some rest, Cale." A kiss to the top of Cale's head, Brother hugs him and promises to bring him more paint. "I'll be gone for a few days this time. Do you want something?"

"Ah," Cale smiles, pressing his face into his Brothers neck to hide his face. "Could you bring me -------?" Brother freezes.

"... you-"

"I learned it from the books! This time I really did, Brother. Please?"

Slowly, Brother releases the tension in his body. "... If that's what you want. But you have to close the window if you're going to mess around with alcohol."

"Yes!" Cale jumps with joy. Then he suddenly runs to a bookshelf, changing the topic by talking about a book Brother brought to him last time. "-and I'd like to know if the sequel is out yet."

"I'll do that." Brother smiles. "You've been asking for more things recently, Cale." Brother settles a hand on his head, stroking his hair.

"It's because of my reliable older brother!" He grabs onto that hand, keeping it there, resembling a naive little brother who only has his role model in his eyes.

He sends his brother down the tower using his hair, and watches that spot of red disappear in the distance.

His face drops.

"... Bastard."

Cale turns on his foot. It's time to see Roksu.

[clumsypuppy]

sleights van

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lines drawn, teeth bared.

[Ko-fi members can check out the behind-the-scenes thumbnails for this comic!]

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[stars-obsession-pit]

When Danny agreed to ferry some books between Ghostwriter’s library and The Librarian in Gotham, he didn’t expect it to be that big a deal. It’ll be just a quick jaunt back and forth, right?

…He just jinxed it, didn’t he.

Yep.

He was barely out the door of the Moonstone Club when he first noticed his tails, and it didn’t take any super-senses to tell they meant trouble.

Less than five minutes later, his suspicions were proven right when a lunging figure forced him to drop to the pavement. He would have phased through the ground too, had some sort of presumably-magical force not blocked him.

Guess he was doing this the hard way. Ghostwriter was so gonna owe him when he got back.

And also, what the hell was in these books??

[rookdaw]

monster X monster hunter

[cent-scratchnsniff]

something bad did indeed happen to that man. spent abt 25 minutes trying to find a better picture of that one (1) offical piece with his eyes open that wasnt compressed or tiny

[midnight-mourning]

Sweet Nothings. (Sun & Moon x Reader Drabble)

Requested By: @hazelthebat

Word Count: 445

Summary: Apparently your day-to-day has become so monotonous that you're only just realizing how deep in you really are. Whoops.

Note: You asked for kisses, I provide kisses, all in a day's work o7 Technically canon to CS but when/where in the timeline you may ask?? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It had been so subtle, so routine. You’d almost wondered if you’d imagined it when it happened.

You were dropping off Gabe, and when you’d went to say goodbye, Sun had bent down for a quick kiss. Which you’d obliged of course, common courtesy and all that, but when you were walking out you’d realized what you’d done.

Not wanting to ruin your own day, you brought it up later when you were picking your brother up again.

"What was that this morning?" You question as the attendant hands the baby over to you.

Again, you share a goodbye kiss, "What was what?"

You blink, "That, just now."

"Don’t be ridiculous," Sun scoffs, "If my affection isn’t satisfactory you should have just said so."

It seemed, that Sun found your comments so offensive that you weren’t allowed to leave the Daycare until you 'approved' of his efforts. Which after the third, breath-taking, passion-filled, borderline inappropriate for a public space kiss, you gave a shaky thumbs up so you could be on your way.

When you came in for your second shift that evening, all you could do was stare at your screen, not getting any work done at all.

"Am I going crazy?" You ask into the darkened room. Last you checked Moon was gone-

Oh no, there he is, directly in front of your face.

His eyes crinkle upward, swinging forward just slightly to knock his smile against your forehead, "I’m afraid you’ve been crazy, Andromeda. It’s terminal. No cure. Unfortunate, really."

It occurs to you after the fact that while he speaks Moon continues to kiss you. On your cheek, on your nose, your lips-several times-on your other cheek, with each punctuating a different comment.

"Now this is just getting ridiculous," You huff.

He tilts his head, silently questioning you.

"I hope you’re both paying attention," You grip Moon’s faceplate with both hands, "This is how you kiss someone."

You open your eyes to the dark ceiling of your bedroom. You squint, trying to remember beyond the base details of your dream. 

No such luck.

You roll over, grabbing your phone to send a message to the subjects of your, strange, dreams. While doing so you fail to realize it is 3:30 in the morning and what you want to say isn't what you end up sending. 

'Thoughts on lips???'

'Gross.'

'Squishy'

You stare at the screen, flicking between the sets of messages. Then, when satisfied, give a small nod, drop your phone back on your nightstand and fall promptly back to sleep. 

You had work in the morning, after all. No time to wonder about what that meant.

If anything at all.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Little does Y/N know they just witnessed their future. i kid, I kid (OR AM I), I am, (OR AM I)

If you liked this and the other drabbles I've done so far, you could check out Confused Spirit on Ao3 (if you haven't already). You could also participate in this poll/celebration and vote for more writing things. Or don't I don't mind either way ^-^ Anyway, thanks for reading!!

[cynicalmusings]

a little exchange i thought of which would probably take place during some debate or other between the socrates-adjacent!reader and some random other person (who begins the dialogue):

“I’ve had about enough of you! Could you stop acting like that?”

“Acting? I’m afraid I don’t understand your meaning. Could you elaborate on your point?”

“You’re still doing it! You can’t seriously be like this all the time. Drop your pretences already and behave normally.”

“Ah, so it is normalcy which concerned here. I’m happy to engage, but you have yet to define what precisely ‘normalcy’ in this context is. Are you able to do so, to help an ignorant soul such as myself?”

“For—you’re serious? You want a definition?”

“I am being entirely honest in asking my question. I only ask that you answer me in a similar fashion.”

“Just—ugh—act like the rest of us!”

“I see. If I have understood you, ‘normalcy’ here is taken to mean a form of social conformity to the behaviour of the majority.”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Now we are in a position consider your demand properly. By your definition, there is no standard for judging what is ‘normal’ beyond how commonly a certain thing is practiced. So, if everybody were suddenly to act like I do, and you became the minority in your behaviour, would not my behaviour classify as ‘normal’, and your own ‘abnormal’?”

“Well… yeah, I guess. So what?”

“And so, if I began demanding that you adapt your behaviour to match mine on no other grounds than it is shared by the majority, would you be willing, without any resistance, to do so?”

“…No, I suppose not.”

“Very well, then; and I respect your answer, for it is an entirely reasonable one. However, it also means that, by your own admission, I ought to be similarly free to act as I please; and thus, I am afraid I must reject your request for reasons which you can understand. I believe we can conclude this line of discussion here. Now, remind me, what were you saying previously about gaining true knowledge from experience?”

[After this, the other person walked off and bashed their head with a rock.]

[dinkykate]

my exact reaction

[3-aem]

DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD