#*loud hootin and hollerin*

[formula-red]

[fangirlrecipe]

Slow Down, Cowboy (Part 1)

Pairing: Billy the Kid (Tom Blyth) x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None. This will probably be the first part of a three or four part series. Establishing the pairing. More fluff to come!

Synopsis: Reader is a server/bar keeper at the local saloon. Billy and the guys come for a drink after a long day of horse stealing and cattle rustling. It doesn’t take much for Billy and reader to take an interest in each other.

A/N: So, no surprise I’m on the Tom Blyth train after watching TBOSAS. I needed more so naturally I watched Season 1 of Billy the Kid and let me tell you, I was not disappointed. He is SO FINE in this series!! Kicking my feet and twirling my hair fr. Also a very good series!! Please watch if you love Tom and love a good story. This was born out of disappointment from the lack of writing on Tom’s Billy on this app as well as a craving for more Tom 😅 Enjoy!!

Part 2: Here

Part 1: A Sight for Sore Eyes

The saloon was already hustlin’ and bustlin’ on a Friday evening. The cacophony of chatter, laughter, and glasses clinking, only to be amplified by the 5 or so pairs of cowboy boots you heard stomping into the saloon, accompanied by the incessant ringing of the bell above the entryway door. The scuffed boots belonged to a group of rowdy cowboys coming in for a drink, or three, after a long day of horse thievin’ and cattle rustlin’, no doubt. You eyed up each one of them, noting their greasy hair underneath tattered hats, dirt caked around and under their fingernails, and revolvers strapped to their hips for easy access. You had been around town long enough to know that these guys were up to no good during the day, but that was none of your business. A paying customer was a paying customer, no matter how they got their money.

You carried on serving customers who were already at the bar until you heard the bell above the door ring again, signaling the entrance of another patron. Normally you wouldn’t give that sound a second thought, but something compelled you to glance up in the direction of the noise.

The saloon was small, so there wasn’t much distance between you, working behind the counter, and the door. You were surprised to be met with striking blue eyes underneath curly brown hair and a dark brown top hat. He was tall. Lean. Young. Very handsome. You had not seen him before… at least not in person. Wanted posters with his face and a handsome reward for his capture were plastered all over every county east and west of Lincoln. None other than the infamous Billy the Kid had just stepped through your saloon doors, reputation preceding miles before him.

Despite what you had heard about him, you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on him as you memorized his appearance. You noticed his eyes sparkle as they met yours. Perhaps it was from the lights hanging overhead, you thought. He stopped as the door slammed to a close behind him. Without breaking eye contact, he removed his hat and held it to his chest, giving you a polite nod and a slight smile, acknowledging your innocent exchange. He then wandered off to find the loud group of men that had entered the saloon moments before him.

So, Billy the Kid was riding around town with these guys. You knew to keep your distance from guys like that in your personal life, but at work, money was money. The group of guys came up to the bar, eyeing you up and down before placing their drink orders. They weren’t original; Whistles and cat calls accompanied by orders for straight vodka or whiskey for the lot. You handed out drinks with a smile, graciously accepting their tips. Then, they were on their way, hootin’ and hollerin’ over to a table in the corner to drink until they got dizzy, celebrating their accomplishments of the day. All that was left behind was Billy.

“How can I help you today, sir?” You asked him, quickly realizing he was a man of few words. He had not made a single comment like his buddies had when they approached the counter.

Billy had put his hat back on shortly after entering the saloon, but he took it off again as soon as you addressed him, making eye contact. A sign of respect.

“Hi there. Whiskey, please.” His slight southern drawl was charming, you had to admit. But it seemed newly acquired. He wasn’t from here originally. You didn’t know much about him aside from the daily town gossip, but something told you he was different. Misunderstood, maybe.

You nodded your head and smiled. “One whiskey, comin’ right up.” You set a glass down in front of him and poured the amber liquid into it. He picked the glass up and drank it down in one gulp. Must have been a hard day, you thought to yourself.

He tapped the rim of the glass with his index finger a couple of times before meeting your gaze again. “Another, please, ma’am,” he asked softly. You obliged and poured him another. This time he decided to sip instead of down it in under three seconds.

“You got it. Holler if you need anythin’ else. Okay, darlin’?” He nodded and dropped his gaze down to the glass in front of him. Perhaps it was the warmth of the alcohol, but you could have sworn you saw a blush creep up on his cheeks. You smiled to yourself once your back was turned.

The night went on as you carried on taking care of the patrons at your bar, drinking themselves to sleep or until their buddies helped them stumble home. You and Billy stole glances and sweet smiles throughout the whole night. Eventually, the saloon cleared out leaving only you and Billy, who had joined his friends at their table shortly after getting his third whiskey from you. As you were wiping down the bar counter and cleaning glasses to start closing up, you watched Billy talk to his group of cowboys. They seemed to be egging him on to do something, but he kept shaking his head and laughing, declining politely. Eventually they got the message, clapping him on the shoulder and exiting the saloon, claiming they would see him back at camp.

You kept your head down as you continued to polish glasses and silverware, ears perking up at the sound of his boots scraping the hardwood floor in your direction. Billy gently set the glass on the counter in front of you with a thud before resting his elbows on it, leaning in your direction. You looked up at him through your lashes. “Not headin’ out with your buddies?”

Billy shook his head, noticing your clean nails and the absence of a wedding ring. “No, ma’am. I don’t partake in their late night activities,” Billy told you in a soft voice. You wondered what activity he was referring to. It could be one of two things: drinking, or women. Since they already had the drinking part taken care of, there was only one other thing it could be. You weren’t sure why, but learning this about him made you feel happy. Relieved, almost.

You placed the glass you were cleaning back on the shelf underneath the bar and threw the rag you were using over your shoulder. With a hand on your hip, you asked, “well, in that case, is there anything else I can get you this evening, cowboy? We are closing right about now.” You waited for him to answer, taking the opportunity to appreciate how well his plaid dress shirt fit him, the top two buttons now open to reveal a new patch of skin you had not seen upon his arrival. You pulled your eyes away when you realized you had been staring a second too long.

“No more drinks for me, ma’am. Thank you, though. There was one other thing I was hoping to get from you, if you don’t mind me asking.” You leaned forward yourself, really meeting his eyes this time. With him leaning across the bar like that, he was the closest he had been all night. The bright blue of his eyes couldn’t even get lost in the dim light of the saloon. You hated how your breath caught in your throat when you realized how close you two actually were.

You cleared your throat and took a second to steady yourself before asking with a playful smile on your lips, “and what might that be?” Billy smiled in return, dropping his eyes to his hands before returning them to you again. “I was hoping I might learn the name of the beautiful woman serving me drinks tonight. So I know who to ask for when I come back tomorrow.” There it was, that smile again, that threatened to leave you speechless. Honestly, you were pleasantly surprised by his manners, especially for a man so young and to be riding around with gunslingers all day. You had heard he was dangerous, but you seemed to have forgotten that. Although you were nervous to be alone with him, you also felt safe. Safe enough to share your name with him.

“Y/N,” you told him with a smile and a nod. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, miss Y/N. My name is William but folks call me Billy. I sure do hope I’ll be seein’ you again real soon.” His voice was smooth, like it was dripping in honey. His charm was effortless and completely disarmed you. Those goddamn cowboys.

“Well, I’m here pretty much 24/7 so, drop in whenever you like. Now I know who to look out for.” You smiled at him again, holding his gaze for a second. He nodded and made his way to the door, stopping to turn around and look at you one last time before exiting the saloon. He tipped his hat to you as he said, “you sure are a sight for sore eyes. You have a good night now,” and was whisked away by the evening breeze.

You stared at the door where he stood just moments before, simultaneously smiling to yourself like an idiot and cursing yourself for being so smitten by a cowboy upon the first interaction. He left you breathless and with only one thought:

In a world of boys he’s a gentleman.

[dallasgallant]

Country/southern slang and vernacular-

This is what I’m going with for the title as honestly I’m not sure what else you would call it, but it is also linked to class a little bit? It’s complicated. Anyways, surprised I haven’t done one like this sooner as I’ve done:

JD slang. 60s slang. Rodeo terms

However, it can’t include everything! As usual take this as a jumping off point, it’s funny as Oklahoma is technically southern, culturally and such. Some are sourced from general knowledge, others from southern or “Oklahoma slang” which heavily overlaps but is more accented.

A lot of this ended up actually being more writing accented speech with some slang thrown in, a lot of it is about contractions! Also word usage! They’ll be a more “general grammar” and accent section at the bottom.

—

All get out- sentence enhancer (ex. Funny as all get out)

Air up - Pump air into something (Tires, mattress)

Ain’t - am not; are not; is not. has not; have not.

An’ all - and all

Awfulest - Most awful *air guitar* , very bad [Appalachian?]

Belted- beaten

‘Bout - about

Billfold- Wallet (Oklahoman, used in place of wallet)

Caint- Can’t

‘Cos - cause/because

Coke- soda (any kind) (ex. You wanna get a Coke? What kind?)

Crick- creek

Do up - prepare : clean/repair (Ex. Y’all do up the dishes)

Do wut - say again

D’yall - Do y’all or did y’all

don’tcha - Don’t you

Drop trou- pull down one’s pants , especially as a stunt in public

dyeet - did you eat?

Figure- Calculate, consider, decide

Fixin’ - on the verge of something : getting ready to

fronta - in front of

Fo’ sure- for sure

Fussin’- overexagerated concern, fidgeting

Gettin’ round - getting ready to go somewhere or do something (ex. Gettin’ round to it)

Gonna- going to

Good-for-nothin’ - Worthless/useless person or object (usually said while worked up)

Gussied up - dressed nicer than everyday (ex. Church clothes)

hafta- have to

Hankering- desire, yearning, craving

Heap - a large quantity (ex. Heap of trouble)

Highfalutin- pompous/pretentious/fancy

Holler- loud cry or shout

Honky tonk - bar where people dance (typically to county, line dance )

Hootin’ and Hollerin’- wild shouting, making a bunch of noise

Howdy- Greeting or used to express surprise

howta - how to

Hush- quiet, shut up

Ice box - fridge (Oklahoman or rural)

I’mma - I’m gonna or I am

Imma geddin sig n tard" - I’m getting sick and tired

ja'eet yet?- did you eat yet?

Keep your shirt on- stay calm (also see : Be cool)

Kin- family (not always by blood. Could be someone you’re close to)

Laying out - staying the night (doing something illicit) or

Let alone - leave alone or to indicate somethings less likely

Like to - Almost (rare)

Lick [Noun] - any amount (Ex. Didn’t get a lick of sleep last night)

Lick [Verb] - beat (ex. Steve Licked that soc good)

Musta- must have

Mom’ n’ em - Mom and them (literal), asking how one’s family is doing

Might could - might be able to

Muddin’ (Oklahoman) - off-roading, going down muddy trails

‘N - then/than or and

‘N em’ - And them

Naw- no

Neither- not one or other (sometimes used in place of either)

Nuss - To nurse

Okie- native resent of Oklahoma (formerly derogatory during dust bowl)

Ornery- combative, mean

Ought- indicate something correct or probable

Oughta- ought to

Ope- oops

Outta- out or

Preddy sure - pretty sure

Prolly- probably

Pop- soda

Purdy- pretty

Pitch a fit- throw a fit, be really upset

Reckon- think: suppose

Rise- upset someone (ex. He sure got a rise out of her)

Rile- upset someone (ex. Don’t rile up the dog)

Ruther - rather

Shouldn’t’ve- shouldnt have (double negative)

Shoot- polite way to say shit : go ahead and speak

Sho’ nuff - sure enough

‘Sides - besides

s’not - it’s not/is not

s’okay - it’s okay

Sorta- sort of

Sprinklin’ - light rain

stocking feet - wearing just socks

Sumbitch - son of a bitch

Tailing- follow without being noticed

The city - Oklahoma City (even if you live in Tulsa. ‘The city’ is Oklahoma City)

Tore up - upset

Tryan- Heavily accented Tryin’

Twister- Tornado (used to be more regional)

Upitty- conceited, fancy, snobby

Welp - well or expression (ex. Welp, I better head out)

Whup/whoop- hit

Whipped- beaten

won’tcha = won’t you

Y’all - you all

Yall’re- y’all are

Y’ain’t - you ain’t

Yer - your

-

Grammar-

The more I added to the list the more I realized writing for the gang is just as much learning to write accent than it is slang, it’s the way they talk and that includes grammar etc. Im going to try and explain some points that I’ve noticed in an understandable way, but it’s also important to note that these rules don’t apply every time necessarily.

Using the wrong word

less words in certain sentences (ex. Don’t mean nothin’)

With above, fewer words to describe things.

Drop the G occasionally (ex. Nothin’ )

Adding ‘d instead of saying ‘would (ex. Soda’d)

Real> really (descriptive)

Anybody > anyone

Weren’t typically goes with a double negative ( ex. weren’t nothing we could do)

Use of ‘you’ (used instead of a name or ‘your’)

Use of ‘was’ instead of ‘were’ ( ex. I knew you was)

Both Aren’t and isn’t become ain’t (sometimes even more)

A LOT OF CONTRACTIONS

Combing words - either a new contraction or new spelling to emphasize accent, especially around questions (ex. ja'eet yet?)

Use of expressions/idioms (ex. That dog won’t hunt)

[in-the-mists]

some moments from the pwhl game yesterday <3

moments not pictured that i loved:

the HUUUGE cheers for coach jess when she came out to drop the puck

all the young girls down at the glass for warm ups with signs/bracelets/enthusiasm

i saw grubi down on the main concourse and got a picture with him!! still cannot quite believe that lol

how many different jerseys i saw people wearing!! tons of nhl teams, the other pwhl teams, juniors, local teams, national teams, etc

the whole arena absolutely LOSING its mind when sue bird and megan rapinoe were shown on the jumbotron. yall. it was almost as loud as when the kraken score. it was incredible (you better believe i was hootin and hollerin too lmao)

anywayyyy WE WANT A TEAM!!!! please!!!!! we promise to love and cherish them soooo much <3

[retrolvr4]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Gal you’re on my mind

Darry Curtis x Female Reader

Summary: After spending the night with Darry, you help him make breakfast.

Warnings: implications of sex, some cursing, lots of fluff!

A/n Patrick Swayze is the loml 😩

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

You felt a soft kiss on your cheek as Darry pulled you in closer to him. Your eyes were still closed and sleep nearly overtook you again when Darry spoke tiredly

“Doll we gotta get up, I need your help makin’ breakfast and I can hear that everyone is up already”

You groaned and attempted to roll over but Darry’s arm wrapped firmly around you now wouldn't allow it.

“It's like 6 i'm not getting up this early on my day off” you grumbled

“It's like 9 miss grumpy, they let us sleep in” He mimicked you and poked your waist

You squirmed at the touch and smacked his hand away. “Darry I don’t wanna-” you started to complain but he quickly cut you off by rolling you over onto your back and tickling you. You shrieked through laughter as he lifted your shirt up and blew raspberries on your stomach.

“Okay, enough, enough, I'm up” you said through gasps and attempts to push Darry off you.

“Perfect, get up” Darry said and rolled out of bed, awaiting you to follow.

You crawled out of bed, still slightly out of breath, and dug through the drawer in Darry’s room that you had filled with your own clothes, since you began to sleep over so frequently.

You fished out a pair of shorts, having only worn one of Darrys shirts to bed, you needed pants.

“Those undies are cute honey,” Darry told you with a smile.

“Thank you, you told me that last night though” you smirked at him and a light blush dusted across both of your faces. The recollection of the events from last night crossing both of your minds.

You walked up to Darry and wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him “I’m sure everyone is starving, we should get out there”

The two of you walked out to the living room, greeted by a variety of good mornings and a “cute shirt” from Soda.

“What was Y/n hootin and hollerin about” Pony asked

You automatically assumed he was referencing last night and quickly uttered a “i'm gonna go make breakfast” and scurried off to the kitchen. Leaving Darry to deal with the situation.

“Well Pony, when two people really love each other, they sometimes-'' Darry started awkwardly, everyone's eyes now on him. But he was quickly cut off by Two Bit’s remark of “Damn Darry gets down” Followed by Dally hollering at you with a laugh and asking “is he any good y/n?”

“Yes, fuck you Dally” you yelled back from the kitchen.

“What- Christ- Ew, I meant like two minutes ago she was screaming and laughin’, I couldn't tell if you were trying to kill her or what' Pony cut in.

Darry’s face turned red over the misunderstanding “oh I was just tickling her trying to get her up so you hooligans can have something to eat” He desperately tried to change the subject, face burning from all the remarks, especially the one from you.

Darry cut his losses and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a pan and placing it on the stovetop then grabbing the carton of eggs from the fridge.

“I’m good huh” He quipped

“You know good and well you are” you said back in a hushed voice “I didn't know I was being so loud last night”

“You weren't doll, pony was talking about how I got you up this morning”

You worked on making pancake mix while Darry cooked the eggs. You hummed ‘corrina corrina’ by Bob Dylan as you whisked the ingredients together.

Darry watched you quietly, gazing with so much admiration for you. He loved every single thing about you. Body, mind, and soul. He knew how hard it was to only get occasional time with him due to his work, he knew he was stubborn and sometimes overbearing, he knew he loved you with everything in him. He loved how you were always willing to help his brothers and around the house. He didn't expect it of you but he always appreciated it. He loved the way you unconsciously swayed as you hummed, he loved how smart and how selfless you were.

“I love you so much my sweet girl” he said, still admiring you.

“Aw, Darry, I love you more” You cooed back and continued to hum.

“y/n, y/n, Gal you're on my mind” Darry sang out of tune, replacing Corrina's name with yours.

You gave him a crooked smile and flicked flour at him “you're a dork”

“Don't you start” he replied, moving over to you to give you a quick but loving kiss.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

I apologize if this is bad, i haven’t written in a while and need to get back into it!

I will write for pretty much any 80s or 90s movie so feel free to leave requests. Cobra kai and Top gun Maverick I will also write for!

I’ve seen a lot of movies so if you’re not sure about requesting something just ask!

I also love Keanu reeves and Paul Dano so feel free to send in requests of their characters!

I will write smut but nothing too freaky

Please do not request anything involving self harm, ED’s, domestic violence, etc . I am not comfortable writing about that.

I’ll create another post with repeated and further information about requests. 💗

[pinep-ne]

in the spirit of the new year, how do you think the gang would have celebrated new year’s in Blackwater? Personally I think Sean got drunk as hell and tried to kiss every person in camp.

Oh god. Twice the drinking. Twice as wild. I definitely think Sean is the #1 instigator for every party, keeping up the energy the entirety of NYE (yes even in the morning). Asking around for resolutions and hopes and dreams and getting a little too physical as always. Which of course exhausted the gang hours before it even hit midnight. But still, they managed.

Arthur I feel is very fickle under the drink— his tipsy little soft spot especially coming out in the position of a new year. I think for most of it, he's 100% down, absolutely BELTING along with the rest of the gang, but as soon as he's away from it, and that bout of sobriety hits he just... sits there. Overcome with some sort of bittersweet melancholy, as he usually is. Despite this "sit and dissociate and think about the year" ritual, and much to his own gruffness, he's willingly sappy enough to round up a few members, if not all, at some point in the evening, to just talk about the times they've shared, and the more to come.

Charles has only been there for a couple months by then. He chooses to enjoy the party from afar, although much closer than his pretty much nonexistent presence at Sean's party. He's not one for superstitious behavior, maybe more sentimental, one of those times he feels he should just connect for the sake of it, even if it sounds a little silly. He tries not to linger too much on the emotional aspect, maybe just opting to wish for good luck this year and leave it at that.

It's not really a rant post from me without butting in the Charthur narrative. I think the very famous "Arthur tracks down Charles during a party to give him a beer and they start flirting awkwardly" trope is actually a rather habitual thing for them, and it'd definitely make sense for that little dance to start in Blackwater (it doesn't make sense but whatever you say). Arthur notices him lingering just enough to look a little intrigued to join. Strides over and demands he relish in the warmth of their little family (it's the middle of winter!), and the light of a new year.

Dutch, being the ringleader, starts the countdown. I think most joined in, even the particularly grumpy and tense members (Bill, for one). Maybe a few exceptions being Micah. And Micah. And maybe Hosea! But that's just because he's too busy having his heart-warmed, watching everyone get together, and thinking on how fast time has gone.

Correct me if I am wrong, please, but I believe fireworks were surprisingly available back then. Did 1800s folk shoot fireworks for new years? They do now I suppose. If not I'm sure their hootin' and hollerin' is loud enough to be a load of fireworks.

As tradition Arthur and John take turns every year to light the fireworks they scrounged up enough funds to get (steal). This one is Arthur's; he waves bye to Charles, and the old guard sets out a good bit away from camp for the entirety of it to view the show.

Anywho. Overall, I don't think they'd be too superstitious. Especially since an odd amount of traditions include a house, which I'm not sure they had in Blackwater. Mostly just a bunch of cheering till they feel like their manifesting and wishes and thanks for a great year have resonated all the way across the state.

[sinfullyrosey]

Yuu/MC/Prefect participating in the next VDC.

Their act is a solo.

They’re just standing in the middle of the stage, holding a simple ukelele.

The audience is full of NRC and RSA students, along with other guests. Their friends are in the front row seats to support them.

Vil is also there visiting to watch and see if NRC will finally win this year. Both college headmasters are there. Neige is there. Everyone, including graduates, are there to see what the magicless Ramshackle Prefect will perform for them on such a momentous occasion.

Everything is quiet until they start to softly play their instrument.

All is going well.

And then they start to sing.

The first minute worth of lyrics were all fine and dandy. The song already drawing in the audience who were naively curious to know where the song was going. 

And then the Prefect starts the chorus with a prompt and loud:

~“This is shit!”

“Well, this is shit!”

“I'm not expecting answеrs, because they're out of your remit!“

“I'm not looking for solutions just for someone to admit-!“

“That this is shit!“

“This is shit!“

“This is shit!”~

Audience’s eyes wide, mouths agape, brains in astonishment.

Except for their friends, specifically Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Epel, who were hootin’ and hollerin’ through the sound of their ukelele. Crowley was having an internal breakdown over knowing everyone was seeing this, including his rival, Ambrose, who simply looked shocked yet impressed.

Neige had quietly gasped, doe eyes even wider at such an open display of vulgarity with each lyric that came from their mouth, and with such confidence and pride! 

Vil, on the outside, looked calm and collected as he always presented himself as. But on the inside, he was reeling. He didn’t know whether to be angry, proud, or some other third thing. The performance itself wasn’t actually bad, the singing and ukelele was on point and their ability to emote with each word made pride well up in the young man’s heart.

His little potato has surely grown.

But did they have to choose that song of all things???

The Prefect’s song came to an end. They bowed. A big smile was on their face at the stunned silence of most of the audience.

Their friends still cheering and clapping loudly as they walked off stage.

The remaining contestants play and everyone is waiting for the judges to come to their conclusion as votes still roll in.

Yuu/MC is surrounded by their friends and as they congratulate them for such a funny and badass performance. Crowley is lowkey reprimanding them, while guilting them for embarrassing him and the school in such a manner. Vil can’t hold back a small smile and halfheartedly chastises them, but still shows his appreciation after they dedicated it to him and his previous loss.

Then the announcements start. The votes are in and have been counted.

The winner is announced to everyone’s astonishment.

They won.

The Prefect won.

Night Raven College finally won at VDC by having a magicless human, who wasn’t even from their world, go up on stage and play a ukelele while they swore at the audience with sheer glee and hidden contempt at dealing with everyone’s shit.

[sillylildude]

I’ll be honest, when I started reading Night Watch I wasn’t sure how much I would like it. I have not finished it yet — I’m in the last hundred-page stretch — but hot DAMN here I am positively hootin’ and hollerin’ at how absolutely insane this book is. The amount of times I’ve said “holy shit” to myself out loud in the last thirty minutes could set a world record.

[creepofhearts]

More often than not, I turn into a silent, squeaking mess while laughing. I hope that whoever hears my laugh starts laughing (but also it'd be a bit difficult to not laugh at my laugh honestly)

One of my favorite things is laughing hysterically on video for a Snapchat, not saying anything because I'm laughing too hard and just sending it.

[sylvie-fics]

Now look here, there’s a reason we don’t get a sex scene with Viktor in arcane. I just know that man starts hootin’ & hollerin’ screaming like you’re biting his dick off and then blunt force stabbin him with it. It’s always the quiet ones that get real loud. Lord. Heaven and hell and two hand baskets. God damn. What the hell.

[sinceileftyoublog]

King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard Album Review: Flight b741

p(doom)

BY KEITH MILLER

Prophetic indie rockers King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard’s 26th studio album Flight b741 features the Australian sextet at their most raucous, hootin’ & hollerin’, and rambunctious yet. From take-off to landing, Flight b741 is a true-to-form blues album wherein King Gizzard has passed the mic from band member to band member to give the traditional blues pattern a switch-up.

Across its ten tracks and roughly 40-minute runtime, King Gizzard delivers an enticing album that’ll pair well with cookouts, yard work, parties at a lake house, and all around busy and sweaty times outdoors. From its harmonic vocals and borderline goofy lyrics down to the various instrumentation of clanging pianos, bumping bass beats, and uplifting guitars, my biggest complaint about Flight b741 is that it didn’t come out sooner. Grab your sunglasses and put on a pair of jorts--anyone who’s claimed to like “Dad Rock,” this album is for you.

My initial highlight from Flight b741 is the vocals. Stu Mackenzie takes lead vocals on the majority of King Gizzard albums, with Ambrose Kenny-Smith, Joey Walker, and occasionally Cook Craig, grabbing the mic and singing lead. But this time around, each band member was given the opportunity to write their own lyrics and sing a verse in as many songs as they like. Lead single “Le Risqué” features drummer Michael Cavanagh opening his verse with a hearty, borderline maniacal laugh before diving into a verse describing himself as a “pathetic forgotten steaze” with a “tiny prick.” These off-kilter moments are scattered throughout the record. The second single, “Hog Calling Contest”, features the band snorting, oinking, and squealing in the mic as they quite literally go “whole hog.”

After every play through, I find myself going right back to the start so that I can relive each song and peel them apart. The opening track “Mirage City” describes a beautiful oasis wherein its visitors can escape their problems. It’s a phenomenal opening track that sets the tone for the rest of the album. With multiple movements featuring horns, harmonica, and loud guitars, “Mirage City” is one of the album's best tracks.

When I first put on the album, I was finishing up work and had just started cleaning my kitchen. One of the earlier tracks, “Antarctica”, was playing, and it gave me a little groove. There was a pop in my step as I was wiping off counters and putting away dishes. “Antarctica” lets you bop along as the lyrics sing, “It’s gunna be a miss / I can tell we’ve got a snowballs chance in hell.” While I was moving and grooving and cleaning up my tiny kitchen, I was suddenly and completely frozen in place as Mackenzie closed out the song with vocals that sounded eerily similar to Warren Zevon’s “Werewolves of London.” And I loved it.

Flight b741 proudly shows its inspiration. There were multiple moments throughout the album that reminded me of Crosby, Stills & Nash, and a few others that harkened back to The Band. These moments are never too embellished. Flight b741 does a good job of keeping its listeners on their toes and giving the classic American rock sound a refreshing Australian twist.

After 12 years and 26 albums, some of us fans have to wonder, "How long can they keep this up?” King Gizzard is known for releasing a lot of music in a short time span. They’re known for leaning heavily into musical themes and gimmicks. From inventing new guitars for their microtonal explorations, to recording an entirely acoustic album, to making a jam band record that follows the classical Greek musical modes, King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard know how to craft an album around a central theme or concept. Flight b741 has ten sturdy songs, three songs longer than their past four records, and if there is a gimmick, its that the band finally got to kick back and make some fun music with their friends.

Keith Miller is a writer living in Chicago who enjoys music, film, and literature. He’s helped a few startups in the Chicagoland area with their copywriting and blog posts. He is currently eating a sandwich.

[lord-lawnmower]

imagine taking the Sawyers to Monster Jam! Bubba would be so vocal and excited at the monster trucks doing cool tricks! the twins would refuse to put on ear protection but you’d threaten them with Nubbins’ own knife bc you’re not dealing with them being half deaf around the house for the next few days. (monster jam is v loud!!) Drayton would tag along under the guise of making sure the boys don’t do anything that draw attention to them but he’d get rip roaring drunk and hootin and hollerin whenever Grave Digger came out!!

you’d mention casually that you’d kill to drive a monster truck and after a while you’d notice the twins had gone missing…….

after the show is over you go down to the parking lot searching for them. the entire lot is emptied out except the truck you came in. suddenly (insert your favorite monster jam truck here) drives up and the twins are behind the wheel. Chop Top’s driving and honks the horn

“Heh you’d better uhhh get in, baby!!! We gotta go!!”

Drayton drives their truck home and the rest of you pile into the stolen monster truck with you behind the wheel and the original driver in the bed of the truck, ready to be made into that famous chili.

[xamaxenta]

Crocodile is valid because

When i tell you i was hootin n hollerin and making a real ruckus you dont know but it was loud LMAO

[mellyncholly]

my brother literally screaming at a video game for an hour straight and screaming so loud that he's literally shaking the house but when i get rowdy and start hootin' and hollerin with my friends my dad comes in and tells me to quiet down.....what's goin on with that

[m3nyas]

my favorite activities: going on tirades, launching into diatribes, ranting and raving, going on and on, spouting nonsense, trumpeting, and hootin and hollerin for as long and loud as possible

[angelo-chuck-wagon]

OW! *holds his arm and sucks in an annoyed breath* Ok... ok. Ok. Simmer down. *backs up slowly* You won't get to far. You don't have your walkin' stick. Bet ya can't steady your hand enough to untie soft Angelo. Imma set up my figurines to guard you. You'll be a good demon thing and stay put right here. Circus's set up right next door so it's gonna be loud. No one will listen to your hollerin' and hootin'. Lots of other animal noises goin' on right now next to this ol' barn.

*backs out the door and takes off running to skip timeback to 2024*

Our scene is set, 1869, the wild west, Angelo Chuck Wagon's hometown.

Angelo Chuck Wagon comes skidding into the timeline, @e-w-w-morningstar on his back and @angelo-rib-shack in his arms. His boots are smoking and sliding along the gravel so fast that the entire party hits the barn wall before they even have time to register what is happening. Angelo Rib Shack takes the brunt of the blow and is knocked out cold.

Angelo chuck Wagon sucks in a deep breath having gotten the wind knocked out of him.