#Thread Turning

[cloudbends]

[ID: a digital drawing in two parts, depicting characters from pokemon horizons, facing with their back to the viewer: the first drawing depicts the three original explorers heading away towards the light, as lucius hugs rystal and gibeon's shoulders. the second drawing depicts liko and amethio, their descendants, standing still and facing the light. end ID.]

"our adventure isn't over yet, isn't that right?"

[genderstealer2000]

guys we should start a thread about how we feel about our hyperfixations

ahem, ill go first

[lucydacusgirl]

you are my pack a day you are my favourite place you were my best friend before you were my best guess at the future

This embroidery is a collection of my and my partner’s jewellery <33 (and a guitar pick and a paper crane) inspo photo under the cut

[lieutenantozar]

Hills turning to mountains

|| @cyberghost-scout beginning operation—

Vallium twelve had been as warm as it usually was. Scorching temperatures and even worse humidity plaguing those who took refugee there, but something the locals were accustomed to, something that those sheltering there or working vaguely took in with envy. The shade barely keeping most cooled for the work and time with the sun raised in the sky. The wind barely keeping most standing and smaller annoyances away.

So to have someone wondering around and rushing about with a long, heavy, and dark, trench-coat was something to gaze upon. The movements not being slowed by the heat or its rays of the raging sun. Barely putting a dent into the rhythm the lieutenant kept up as he moved boxes and supplies to different points. The few lucky enough to be just as unbothered hadn’t adored any clothing close to what he had worn. And those who choose to do so now regretting such motives as they were recovering from the sickness now plaguing them. Though even than their work was picked up by the seemingly unbothered few.

But now it was his break.

Ozar had been moving his little courting gift as he had some brief time to spare before picking up another load. Though was now attempting to fight through a few of the heavier framed soldiers he oversaw for his neatly boxed gift. Currently tossing one over his left shoulder and ducking under another few. Clearly annoyed at their little antics as he began to rush at his right-hand man. Not that he could have helped with his relationship with his courtie hidden for much longer. He already knew time was coming short, including with the next steps for courtship. Though he had hoped that it was on better terms and more sensible terms.

[amber-angel]

What's the POINT?????

I half expected Misty's fucking chocolate martini to be poisoned, that's how out of left field these stupid plotlines are getting

[inkskinned]

it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.

yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.

it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.

how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.

chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?

how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.

"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.

i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.

[silkenwinger]

Soap's been having fun lately. Lots of gym, swimming. Eating his heart out. He misses the action, but his condition has finally improved enough that he can at least enjoy life's simplicities. He greets the old people in his complex, takes on small jobs to keep busy while he mostly lives off the pension until he finds something more meaty to get his hands on. He doesn't have a dryer back home, and he hates hanging clothes, so every Friday he gets to the laundromat, pays for his washing and sits there waiting for it to be done, sketchbook in hand. Every time he goes there, the same arrangement of people finds him: older ladies, some eternal bachelors, and the sweet younger thing that lives just upstairs from the laundry.

It's not his fault he tends to monopolise the attention, you hear him? Classmates would roll their eyes when teachers took him under their wing just because he was funny. Everyone there knows all of his business; his inside voice never really developed outside of life threatening situations. He announces he has an interview for some construction worksite ("they do interviews nowadays?") and that he's excited to have a full time job again. The pensioners wish him good luck. You, instead, invite him for a drink together back at your house.

You're lovely, really. Pretty, funny, the whole package. But, um. He's still not fully recovered from the incident. He's afraid he won't be able to perform at his best. He also thinks you deserve to be with someone a little less scarred, someone who can share a general life path with you. Not someone whose dream is already over. Not someone like him.

But he still has pride. A male part of him simply doesn't think he has any right to refuse your invitation. And it doesn't necessarily mean that you want him that way to begin with, he shakes his head. You have a generous nature, he can tell. Maybe you're a bit lonely in this big city and just need someone to talk to.

The two of you have a lovely dinner together, actually. You cooked the lamb meat tenderly, just as he likes it without even knowing it. He's just about to tell you that he's had a great time, but that he should really go back home, because the interview is tomorrow and he has to wake up early...

He starts feeling weird. Lead in his legs, his head throbbing where he was shot, blood pooling behind his eyes. He sees you get up from the chair before his vision goes dark.

He wakes up some time later, his head full of cotton. His back is on a soft surface and his limbs immobilized, still caged even as he shakes, full force not recovered yet. Hearing him struggle, you slither in the room, immediately coming to his bedside. Even as he yells and convulses, desperately trying to set himself free, you don't speak, just try to pet his hair through the shakes. He decides to shut up for a moment then, still not totally sure of what's going on, if this is a joke. You speak then.

"Oh Johnny," you sigh, looking at him with so much pity he's only getting more confused, your hand still in his hair, "you didn't think I would let you be in danger again, right?"

[sleepanonymous]

Remember when I made this post talking about Jaws? A good friend found one for Thread The Needle.

George Lever, the man that you are.

Intro

Sleep Token are different, like super major big time different. Softly spoken pop aesthetic meets discordant percussive metal different. Different is great. It tests and pulls at the boundaries by which we choose to asses music by. All in all ST (sleep token) is very close to my heart in terms of what its intentions are and how it tries to achieve it. I worked very closely with ST on the song framing and ensuring that every phase of each song was being presented in the way they originally intended. Much like a prog record there isn’t any sense of an ABAB type repetition that’s common in pop music, instead it’s a textured journey down multiple avenues and pathways, showing and highlighting different perspectives of the song along the way. I could write about this project for some time but I’m very aware that this is supposed to be an engineering / mixing focused blog so I shall move on.

Tracking // Drums

In terms of the space, we ended up at Monnow valley. This happened to be my first ever solo flight session at MV, although nerve wrecking I think it came together rather harmoniously without any negative turns.

The initial outline from ST was to achieve as much as humanly possible without the need for rigid quantisation after the fact. Every play / part, had to emphasis what else was going on. Tricky, but great fun to achieve.

Tracking // Guitars & Bass

All tracked back here at G1, using an array of options like the Kemper, Axe fx and plugin amp sims. The attention wasn’t so much on ‘authentic amp sounds’ but more along the lines of ‘how cool can this sound, can it sound more cool?’ Quite a different approach considering some would be more enclined to try and ensure that ‘this does definitely sound like a 5150’ over what it actually does for the context that it is sitting within (the songs DNA)

** Cool bit, for the end part of TTN, the guitars were tracked 6 times. 3 different takes / tones each side. More tone, more drone.** – George

Bass, I think is a combination of my jazz bass and some software stuff, obviously my poor 4 string won’t handle going down to drop ZZZZ so that’s when the synth stuff needs to kick in, however I do believe at those parts the Jazz is playing the upper octave for that sense of movement and clank.

Tracking // Vocals

How freaking amazing is this dudes voice? Seriously? I used a different mic for each song, each time he sounds amazing. This is what it’s all about, right here. A great voice always sounds great. We used my modded Oktava m319 for one track, the AKG c414 b-uls for another and the sm7b on one more. Who cares what processing went on, just listen to how mega dope his voice is. Can you tell I appreciate his voice? Haha!

Gear Used

Drums – Tracked by G1 at Monnow Valley Kick In – Beta91a + D112 Kick Out – U47 Snare Top – 57 Snare Bottom – 441 Toms – md421 HH – 7b Ride – c451 China – c451 OH – Modded Oktava mk012 in ORTF RM1 – R121 RM2 – C414 RM3 – U87

Guitars Kemper / Driftwood Profile Pack (along with other bits and bobs too for the multi tracked parts) Bass Dingwall Darkglass > FabFilter Saturn

Vocals Different mics for different sections C414 BULS / 7B / Oktava m219

[1dumbfox]

this was too good not to share

[dezmolad]

I made an embroidered Prowl pin for @aishien-the-aishien! first time doing something like that XD

the embroidery is made on EVA foam, the back of it secured with another layer of it, attached with hot glue. Edges secured with yarn.

some photos of how it looked on different stages of creative process under the cut

the embroidery is made on EVA foam, the back of it secured with another layer of it, attached with hot glue. Edges secured with yarn.

[s0fter-sin]

remember my vampire au where they can only drink the same blood type they were before they were turned? and how i kind of glossed over how ghost escaped roba’s starvation pit?

(cw gore)

he uses his anger and desire for vengeance to distract from the bloodthirst; holds the wretched heat of them close to keep his will strong enough to withstand the urge to feed from the toxic humans roba torments him with, dotted around his bar-less prison like a mocking, poisoned banquet before the destitute

the venom in his fangs turns on him, eating away at his gums and working into his calcified veins; desperately searching for safe blood, for an end to this slow death. it drips from his slack mouth, burning away his lips after melting the sinew in his jaw to the point that he can’t close his mouth anymore; his flat, human teeth loose and falling out by the day with nothing to hold them to his porous jaw

even then, ghost doesn’t waver

until finally, enough time passes that roba's underlings deem him weakened to the point of harmlessness

they get sloppy when they dump the carcasses into the pit; getting closer and closer to the edge and paying less and less attention to the starved, melting vampire left amongst the decomposition

they don't see the body ghost sequestered away; one of the first, festered and putrid, hidden under the ever growing pile and left to be forgotten

they don't see the calculating edge in his eye as he watches its flesh rot and soften; waving it off as longing, as hunger as he looks into eyes melting from their sockets

they don't see ghost sink his fingers into the rotting caverns, giving him the perfect grip to rock the head back and forth as he stares at the hand-dug dirt walls of his prison. ceaseless, repetitive movements, bone grinding on bone, muscle tearing from flesh as he slowly rips the skull free from its spine

they don't see ghost rear back and, using all the hatred and loathing he's let build in the long weeks of his hollow imprisonment, throw it at the vampire about to drop another caustic human on him; striking him in the head and tipping him off balance so he falls...

directly into ghost's waiting arms and starved fangs

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

The Eras Tour | 2023-2024

[brinacarpcnter]

𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐬 → 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐞.

troye: honest, there's a difference. but, i miss you too much to fight about it when you could be telling me what the hell you've been up to. sabrina: oh, bestie, i'm not sure you want to open up that can of worms.

[lesbianralzarek]

my fellow, like, 20% of tumblr users with a drivers license

for clarification: this is not about what the law says. this is about whats courteous

[mxssacre]

Here's a fun little headshot I did of this dragon for someone on fr :)

You can also drop your own dragons here for a chance at some free experimental art! It's mostly just my art gallery, but I love seeing cool dragons regardless!

[greenzilla4]

Seriously, how do you get lost in your own house-

Can we not talk about this right now?! Look! There's Blue. Surely they know where Red is.

...eugh.

What's wrong?

I just felt the weirdest case of deja vu.