Glumdelay - Glumdelay

oh man i never told you. recently we went to the albertina art gallery and in the contemporary wing we saw this painting, “nacht der skorpione”

and we were fucking blown away by it, like audible gasping from everyone, it’s almost as tall as the room and incredibly expressive and impressive

and after having walked around looking at the work of 99% male artists and their endless studies dedicated to The Female Form for so goddamn long my very first thought upon seeing it was “this was painted by a woman”, so i walk closer and sure enough, i was right, her name is xenia hausner.

and then i look at it for a moment longer and my chest swells because these are intense characters with internal lives and that is what makes them attractive and my second thought is “this was not painted by a straight woman”

and i mean i can’t say anything for sure but i looked her up and

and nobody else picked up on this in the original painting? when i told them they were like “what, why, because of the masculine (???) brush strokes”? they were not shaken to their very core by the authenticity of it? what i’m trying to say is gaydar is extremely real and straight people extremely do not have it.

things that never fail to bring me unbridled joy: when characters in su spontaneously do a goofy ass walk cycle

MARI IS HOME

*pulls up to the fanfic drive-thru window* uh yeah, i’ll take a fake relationship with a side of mutual pining and thinking the other isn’t interested, thanks

Emotions

Brush test I made of Omori but somehow it looks kinda good?? I was asleep when I made this or smth lol (?_?)

when we try to befriend cats we mimic their meows and get down on the ground to their level and try to gently coax them to interact with us right

that horrifying entity mimicking human noises at us maybe just thinks we’re cool and wants to pet us?

Random, but a really handy way to make things seem creepy or wrong in horror is to make them incongruously neat or clean:

In the middle of a horrific battlefield, you find one corpse laid aside neatly, straightened and arranged, its arms crossed neatly across its chest

As you walk through the garden, you gradually realise that the oddness you’ve been noticing about the trees is that they are all perfectly symmetrical

As you move through the abandoned house, you realise that suddenly that there’s no dust in this room, no dirt or cobwebs

You hear hideous noises coming from behind a locked door, screams and pleas, and visceral sounds of violence. When you manage to break down the door, there is no one there, and the room is perfectly spotless

In the middle of a horrific battlefield, a hollow full of churned mud and blood, you find five corpses cleanly dismembered, each set of limbs or parts neatly laid out in their own little row

You witness a murder, a brutal, grisly killing that carpets the area in blood. When you return in a blind panic with the authorities, the scene is completely clean, and no amount of examination can find even a drop of blood

You run through the night and the woods with a comrade, pulling each other through leaves and twigs and mud as you scramble desperately towards freedom. When you finally emerge from the forest, in the grey light of dawn, you turn to your companion in relief, and notice that their clothes are somehow perfectly clean

You hand a glass of water to your suspect, talking casually the whole while, and watch with satisfaction as they take it in their bare hand and take a drink. There’ll be a decent set of prints to run from that later. Except there isn’t. There are no prints at all. As if nothing ever touched the glass

You browse idly through your host’s catalogue, and stop, and pay much more attention, when you realise that several items on a dry list of acquisitions are ones you’ve seen before, and it slowly dawns on you that each neat little object and number in this neat little book are things that belong (belonged?) to people you know

Neatness, particularly incongruous neatness, neatness where you expect violence or imperfection or abandonment, or neatness that you belatedly realise was hiding violence, or neatness that is imposed over violence, is incredibly scary. Because neatness is not a natural thing. Neatness requires some active force to have come through and made it so. Neatness implies that the world around you is being arranged, maybe to hide things, to disguise things, to make you doubt your senses, or else simply according to something else’s desires. Neatness is active and artificial. Neatness puts things, maybe even people, into neat little boxes according to something else’s ideals, and that’s terrifying as well. Being objectified. Being asked to fit categories that you’re not sure you can fit, and wondering what will happen to the bits of you that don’t.

Neatness, essentially, says that something else is here. Neatness where there should be chaos says that either something came and changed things, or that what you’re seeing now or what you saw then is not real. Neatness alongside violence says that something came through here for whom violence did not mean the same thing as it does to you.

Neatness, in the right context, in the right place, can be very, very scary

And fun

KIRISHIMA’S HERO OUTFIT IS TOPLESS BC HE WANTS TO SHOW OFF HIS SURGERY SCARS SO OTHER PPL (especially smaller kids bc lets be real: there are probably kids who watch the news and see some of the students from U.A fighting occasionally) DONT FEEL ASHAMED OF THEIR SCARS OR OF BEING TRANS BC SHARP TOOTH BOI WANTS TO ENCOURAGE EVERYONE TO BE THEMSELVES PASS THE WORD

Kirishima eijirou is a trans icon!