#Angel Park A Giant Dog

[mylifeinsound]

A Giant Dog Delivers a Ferocious Night of Rock 'n' Roll at Johnny Brenda's

On a crisp and starry night in Philadelphia, the electric vibes of Johnny Brenda’s played host to a musical explosion of epic proportions. A Giant Dog, a band hailing from Austin, Texas, took the stage with an air of gritty determination, leaving no doubt that they intended to rock the night away. This memorable evening was also graced by the opening band Dregs, another outfit from Austin, and…

[astralnymphh]

copy that, romeo

— ellie williams was supposed to be your supervisor, not your object of infatuation ~ ♡

⋆❝ this is cordero tower, calling in.❞⋆

CHAPTER ONE: SUMMERTIME INTERLUDE . NEXT CHAPTER > ♡. pair; firewatcher!ellie x recruit!reader

♡. summary; it's 1995, and the angel crater national park welcomes you; a retrograde lookout all to yourself, a space nerd for a supervisor, and a whole summertime job spent in hues of sepia and juniper, waiting for the first sign of smoke. ninety–three days. you don't know her face, you share no breath— but by walkie–talkie, you know her voice.

♡. a/n; READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. CLICK HERE. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. ALSO THIS.

♡. content; EVENTUAL SMUT, narrator present, silly fourth wall breaking, a dash of comedy, slowburn (somewhat), living alone, long–distance pining, reader/characters are similar ages(mid–late 20s), depression, heavy metaphor usage, complicated poetry styles, mentions of organs, mentions of weaponry, metaphorical death, grim humor, drinking alcohol, drunk!ellie, drunken flirting (vaguely and bluntly), ellie jumpscare, uh-oh sassy masc apocalypse, she's corny and cheesy too (a dork), awkwardness, humiliation, lighthearted bickering, nicknames used. [lmk if i missed anything] . SERIES PLAYLIST .

WC; 6.1k+ ✮ thank you @trackinglessons for your sexy brain and beautiful ideas + custom art ✮ masterlist ✮ series masterlist ✮ ellie ref sheet

Summertime is the interlude between misery and Mondays.

  May was a rough patch for you. A coagulated chapter within the spring world, a shunned ponder, red jello in the gradience of passage. Tempus, time. Early months hence were just as pessimizing, doubt is an arid reservoir in you. But, as a maypole sits a svelte giant in the sweet Beltane soil, braving an invisible smile whilst little ones— little laughters, spun prances and wraps of dainty satin to an ensnare on its long body, it weeped for its delicate capture. You; flesh coarse like timber, relate to the log standing, ensnared. Sunk in that gelatinous texture, unmoving as pressures collided with the surface outward, ripples everywhere yet incapable of sprinkling through you. Something would have to delve itself to drag you out.

  Chapters; cusp of autumn to April, every single month, wound ‘round you. They each had separating colors, and spared turns to soundly fold your limbs and bulge your skin in ribbons. It snipped your circulation, shriveled the ripe breath in your skull and traded it for a pressure. A throb. Weight upon the cranium, you felt the narrowing cradle inside wilt from thought, drain from consciousness, and soften your stiff eyes locked on drywall. Hour to hour.

  But those weren't the only things taunting you with a dance— expectations danced faster. Expectators, paired minds heaping expectations; yourself and the selves blackjacking their wants expressed as worries onto you. Stressful creatures, they are. Bosses, co–workers, energy vampires disguised as lover boys prowling about your workspace, general creatures of the retail world. God, they're like ravenous wolves snarling hunger through their teeth, slobber moonlight–bright of that dire carnality for variety meats. Depression just took the first serving before they could.

  Even the domesticated places are a wilderness untamed.

  Stress drained you of life. It softened your desire to even try. Gods are dulling, blamed you, on another dull morning where the trickling sound of coffee pouring drilled irk into your ears, rather than simply a trickle. Caffeine, a roast so void–black was brewed to un–drain you. Yet, it fuckin didn't.

  Impugning was your everything, until it could no longer purify; Elaine. Emptiness. Hmm, you gave this state of vacuum–headed hollowness a name, keenly because it deserved so by its dismantling of your autonomy. You don't want it. It's not you. It's Elaine. A some–angel fallen out of grace, weary of its wander upon a washed up cove, beige toned and swept shivering–cold. Interested by the warmth your sundry organs pushed into its light silhouette. 

  And perhaps, if the bird was never freed from its heavenly cage, it would be powerless to pester you, to poke the meat inside with the pointy end of plumage.

  Elaine was an organized assault on your wellbeing, moreso against the pulpy, pinkish-gray blob sitting ugly above your throat. Believe it, or assume it. A paralysis, moving shoulders from bed sheets proved farcical, running bristles over your teeth twice a day rhymes with nonsense, and midnight ink born to swirl and curtsy to convey thoughts gone rancid, goes unused atop the white flutter between your journal hardcovers. You have a morbid case of the seasonal blues, except this time, the season is beyond its blue hues. Spring, a fuckin’ kaleidoscope embellished. Blotches of big fuck you greens so vibrant you'd long to die from your tears, and an abstract spit of smell me reds thorny as your stomach brought to a scream for something. Anything.

It was a slow, banal descent into the jello.

  January, floating atop the sweet delicacy, atop your bed.

  February, the solidity gave out beneath you, goo subtly etching around your ankles, calves, elbows, unforgivingly cold when it first hit. When in reality, the bed was heating from your lay.

  March, marrow goes heavy, your limbs at this time could not lift, your efforts waned, and satiating the rumble in you with sustenance was forgotten, as that rumble got so, so.. quiet. 

  April, the jello had stuffed your nose, your sockets, and lullabied your ligaments. You let it happen.

May.

  You let yourself sink. Let yourself decompose and go mush in the head. Like a zombie.

  The descent doesn't taste of sweet delight, but it also fails to churn your lips with a heavy saccharinity. Neutral, your hopeful side did say. Nothing, rationality slapped past your lips.

Five months, either a misery, or a Monday.

  Yes Eve, a bite out of the Apocrypha will indeed fill this human abysm in me. Forbidden knowledge is my craving. Contraband of truth, bite to bite, I envy that I could not cope with its coating of my empty gut earlier.

  Innocence is so dull. You are depressed, not a fucking saint for staying indoors, starving your rage.

  But on came a crisp bouquet of biker–boy newspapers; ‘Hiring’, and a few scans further; ‘Do you harness a great love for the evergreen?’

  A honed section in Missoula's local print— jobs. A publisher boldens and compresses enthusiasm sporadically; writing–on–the–wall hollers speckle themselves meticulously on the newsprint that strike a sense of obligation into the susceptible and soft–of–heart chunk of the population. A pert voice read with persuasion between your ears, gritty in tone and stereotypical of a middle aged ranger, vocals fried by cigarettes but as booming as a cannon.

“Do you care for the animals inhabiting our national sanctuaries?”

  Abutting small paragraphs, the sagging belly of a black bear, tender caramel snout and snoopy–faced, fitted on its head a mustard yellow campaign hat labeled, ‘Smokey’. Its burly, blundering frame on all fours stood out over a comic–style vista of the Montana rockies, paws obscured by blocks of thickset text reading ‘Only you’.

  Huh, a realistic depiction of Smokey Bear— over a not–so–realistic background, avant–garde. 

  Tree greens sprawly that didn't shout ‘Fuck you’ on your poor, sunken eyes searing for sleep and a twilight darkness. Sagey lichens that didn't draw out the spasms above your own bones, calling your regard to bring pin–sized problems and blemishes sprawling your own flesh out of the bliss of ignorance. Brunette muds with only a fleck of sun, a slice of earth dull, humble and unprocessed enough from benevolence to leave you unconsumed, unsunken. A mere slop and pudge in the future and wake of your walk. Nothing obnoxiously grand, nothing sanctimonious. Nature is by birth— righteous, regardless.

  “Before we can be proud of our nation, our nation must be proud of us!”

  The advertisement gropes for a summertime made free. A cyclopean sinkhole in the becoming of time. Recruits–in–waiting are called to bargain normalcy and the bustling cities plump with lumbering limbs of sheen–tight pantyhose shaded under short shapes of plaid skirts for boot–cuts n’ backpacks hefty with gear that could either save you the trouble of mountaineering by path, or trouble your time with a faulty snapping of two things. Rope and neck.

Too grim?

  A months’–long moment of tension snapped at the pressure joint— Summertime the snapper.  You'd be devoting ninety–three suns, ninety–two moons, and some two–million breaths of fir laden air up in Angel Crater National Park, northwest of here. Pupils flickering the double-page setup, you continue: A pictographic, old–fashioned lookout taller than the timber spires surrounding would be your station, your core of operations, for those three young and sunny months. Boxed provisions and supplies are guaranteed to ship every other week, and testimonies encourage even the anxious, balmy buzzes of your brain to sigh in solace learning that the weald creatures there— are mostly harmless, if you aren't bred an imbecile. Alongside, an appointed supervisor, whose name was never disclosed duly except for a scratch of text gingerly clasped in quotations reading, “E.R.W” trailing the mention of said supervisor. What’s required of you was delivered plain written and patent on that shoddy newspaper, held thick in your intrigued thumbs; Keep the forest from catching wild fire.

  You fiddled the idea. Should I? Or should I wallow the summer away? Fiddled it anxiously, fiddled it needily, bumped the clumped rim of the newsprint on your cupid's bow in bending rumination, steadied it cause newspaper smells oddly good— but next to minutes racing hours upon musing, a conclusion had to knock your static looping of gloomdom in the butt.

  One phone call, and the bird would be barred again. Pesterer, Elaine the Terrible, would be cast back where eyes can't roll over the cottony clouds. Just a couple fucking prods to your number–pad, might genuinely un–drain you.

  Luckily, you aren't an idiot reared to take bullshit longer than meritted.

You took the job.

May 30th, 1995, 7:28 PM.

  What does any clever pedestrian traipsing capricious terrain store in their pack to avoid total gangly–branch–grips–of–nature butchery?

Item one; Black nylons— scratch that, you aren't getting paid to snag at every kink and curl of the forest, tighties of gossamery fabrics are a no–go. Citywear stays citywear. Double scratch on those sweet, blackberry Mary Janes too prized and polished to muck up in shit of the earth. Immolating the rigid underside of some chunky hiking boots to the unruly woodlands is the adrenaline pinnacle of out–worlding, come on. It proves you've got a hardy backbone and the right row of teeth to chew what you've bitten off, sullying boots ‘till the color is forevermore stained. Backup boots are tradition, so that's item number two. Best get used to cargo, ankle–length overalls and miscellaneous graphic tees, cause the rockies’ fashion gurus can't get enough of ‘em!

Clothing, check.

  Swathes of ropes twined pumpkiny orange and plenty of clanging anchors to bolt them in, goddesses and gods forbid you be tight on anchors. Medical kits— duh, did you trudge all from yonder just to die out here? This country is dicey, at the cuddly claw of a bear, or not. Hair ties, scrunchies you hoarded as a teenager in the eighties, disposable camera to suit your flaky memories, and an eclectic dump of nutty and fruity cereal bars galore. Unless you're allergic. Substitute.

Accessories and essentials, check.

  Ah, and a spare pistol and switchblade in replacement of newcomer paranoia! Keep that hush–hush though. No matches or lighters, obviously.

True American, illegal weaponry, check.

  All this paraphernalia bangs and clangs heavily on the polyester holding of your backpack, straining your scruff uncomfortably as you tiptoe, scarcely tumble, and tread lightly across a log. It creaks, it groans, it wobbles slightly over the blaring white rush of a stream, suctioning your heart–to–stomach when it grinds a wee bit louder than you thought it should.

  “Shit!” you crimp your torso in and dart wary hands on the timber beam at your feet, assuming a gawky newborn–bambi–pose in hesitation, shuddering in cracked tones, “This can't be the right way..” 

  Hoping on an evaporated sun, you frazzlingly testify in repetitive thought that the map mailed by the rangers a week prior led you on this perilous and incorrect path.. for the last two days. Winding and wounding, literally— your bruises are measureless and on top of that ache your skin to want no more of this. But, you have to. A boulevard of brown, short and stout, wrung unyielding from one gray side to the greener other, a shortcut. Assumed to be a shortcut, based on the route drawn by utter confusion.

Oh yeah, and remember the advertisement stating the park was twenty-five miles out?

Nothing about that hot-press, black-cat inked newspaper accounted for the extra eight weighing your ankles down and your motivation dead low. Twenty-five only stretched out unto the ranger parking lot. The entrance, for fuck's sake.

  Shaky flit of your digits, they float gently off the carve–veined surface of the wood, unfolding your spine as you rise. “Wrong way—” you utter to your chest, oven–warm as it puffs, “—gotta be the wrong..” 

  Tentative–ism is normal here, right? Like, no way you're cautious and sweating at the brow for nothing. Right? 

  One foot— creeakkk— in front of the prudent other, two sailing lunges, three hurried hops and a matched thud soft as marshmallows plants your shoes to hallowed ground. Blades of verdant whiskers so innocent crush under, and it feels fucking— demeaning, actually. All that gulping and pausing.. for nothing.

  You tuck a shoulder–glance to the makeshift ricket of a bridge, and blankface, “Didn't feel like killing me today?”

The tree bears no reply.

  “Hmph, surprising. Seeing as someone killed you,” a sigh parts, fading into the whip and straightening of your head, “figured the pursuit of revenge doesn't stop at ghosts.” and the hoist of your boot up, carrying onward.

  Sundown paints, crescent layers repose approaching moonlight and dying sunlight sprawls psychedelic limbs above you. Balance ambling in tiny bops only made the swirling grasp of those gradient rays more trippy on your eyes and coercive of daydreams, rot–nip for the brain. You spot nutbrown brick— a fireplace in your mind, fevered heat roasting on the inside wall of your forehead too. It was Christmas before the storm, a subzero December. And it was, in fact, colder than the unreachable heaven. Dad was hunkered down in front of that innocuous amber crackle, his right leg slack to the ground and his left arched in the neck of an acoustic guitar, arms plaiting its hollow curve into his chest. 1971, when the veil through and within was thin, and love–vomit poured so easily through. A time of justified ignorance; Childhood. 

  Stood you adjacently, legs short and posolutely not stout, dimpled in the knees. Aged two years, and mushy as ambrosia, contorting your mouth jubilant as you're told for the camera, contrary to your father with his expression drooping to his strumming fingers. Sickly sweets, adult–you unpurposefully neglects to twirl lips at, your extraordinary grins now turned ordinary flat–lines. Holiday memoirs, those spoiled ripe quick after adulthood bolted itself in the slabs of your tender spine and instilled an artificial love for labor and country, displacing nostalgia from ever being seen as a flesh existence. 

“Say cheese!”

  America is sub–human, and sub–humans created America, the imperfect cycle. Families tear, eagles outcry, friends drink their death, and the days continue to unfold without a trace of acknowledgement. Days exist where you soak festivities and stave off the pointer–finger poking at so called slack you relish, and some twenty dwindling years ahead the slowly deadening oak grove road, carousals will be criminally known as layabout–makers.

Joy is a luxury now.

  A blockage prevents your foot from winching clean forward, meeting the bone–hard kiss of a boulder to sore your toes. “Fuck!” you brand your throat walls to a shout, pissed at the rock rather than your woolgather that lead you to said rock, “Fucking fuckhead rock!”

  Woolgather means daydreams, by the way. Funner to use words that don't make a split of sense. Yay for English.

 The sunset clouds dripped with a mania of fascination and had strung your brain to its hypnotic whims, like a siren had soloed a trance, drifting your mind somewhere utopian and phantasmagorical. It sounds silly, but, blanking out seems so often out of grasp from your control, you usually could never flag what caused it, when it started, and why. Nothing practical surfaces. Fuck, your head is so tangled upon memories, you haven't even noticed the progression of scenery twelve o’clock from you. 

  Ponderosa boughs band together where your eyes brush shapes and forage for a clue of what scene wants to greet you ahead. The sequestering silence of rustles indicates a clearing, possibly. Possible as it could be, you fully expected this cruel footslog to wallop your ass into a minefield, so you bet cards and course carefully beneath the crowns of pine, completely bent to the chance of another obstacle threatening your tender ankles. Leafy whispers above strum your ears brimmed with its sotto voce song, and then— colors it silently behind.

“Holy shit.”

  Presence crumbles above you, and opens before you. The lookout. Wood shafts slant in opposing directions, up and up along four brawny beams in three consecutive layers, like a blocky cone. The face closest to you overlaps the backing rest, giving the illusion of tufted wooden legs sketched under all lackadaisical. Endgame daylight spies from behind this one–roomed cyclops, gushing final spurts of citrus rays as if it truly was an orange squeezed to pulp. So, the flank and forehead of that towering, mountainscaping lookout rolling a cold shoulder to the sun, paves in a tattered tapestry of garnet smokiness instead. Shadow of sundown. From where you sow feet, a football field apart, petty details are difficult to squint into clarity, but the window panes appear tawny, too.

  An intimidation, “So much for a tiny room.” A beaute intimidation, “And no actual bathroom.” it makes you feel like a genuine insect compared.

  A sort of stairwell serpent faintly chokes the foot, the calves, the thighs, and punctures kindly a mouth leading up to the skirting balcony hedged in many gaunt teeth. Tamping gravel closer, subtleties and fine points fade as the tower's plank–lined and flat underbelly turns to you. Larger and larger, it dips darkly from miniscule masquerade.

  Bringing your decently aching foot to the first step, you press into the curb and meander your cruder aching— thanks to a random boulder— foot weirdly on the outer ridge of your boot. Making it up the stairs to fund yourself a fucking break was a palpable mockery in itself. Like, ‘Hey! Climb this long–ass stairwell for a teensy break before doing it all over again the next day!’. 

Un–fucking–believable. 

  Fifty years of history and past rangers grate in your walk, the floorboards thump with their stories, thump into your skin— verse you a wordless eulogy. Each step is a sentence, and every sentence branches into a whole tree of genealogy, lives. Lifestyles you can't understand now, but will.

  Really redundant of me to highlight the generations alive in those floorboards. The walk up there isn’t that exciting.

  After the last step, you're met eye–to–frame with a scratched door, pygmy window centered and paper–screened from within, and the stories predating your stay inspire a comical theory, “Jeez— bears make it up here?” you half–suppress a snort, palming a fist on the doorknob coldly before rotating and giving sympathetic pressure to the door.. jammed. 

  “C’mon..” knuckles pulse into the knobs plate, gradually upping the force you pushed, “.. losing light out here..” eventually adding your other hand to sweeten the push.

  Sure, a whole year has gone by since it homed somebody, and it's retro, but come on.

  Breaking splinters into the door was your last intention, so you try so–so carefully— to some extent, “Please..” now butting the tip of your boot on the rim to ease it— ease, and finally pry, a clapback of wind blowing dusty, nightfall air past your crescent cheeks following the snap of the fallow door.

  Thank goodness for your grace and balance, some days, avoiding a timely trip face–first to a floor so powdered in light dust, any kid would mistake it for a good time sweeping snow angels. 

  Not so good for the respiratory system though.

  Muggy space filtering your lungs tightly, you cough out, “Gah— fuck!” nothing higher than the level of a guttural wheeze, your chest punching into your throat. Gaping out the last flock of butterflies clumped at your collarbones, the tickle inside calms, and you find your sights taking in a dark box. A dim orb of lily silver glow rests in the middle of the pall room, raising the natural, “Where's the ligh— ah, big clunky thing—” 

  Flicking the off–white and stubby nub attached to an impractically sized lightswitch, which frankly resembles an electric box externally, an essence of Apollo ladens the room. Lemony–gold light, passably bright off the redwood ceiling, and murmuring a low buzz through one ear, and out the other, your pupils caper along the contrasting shades awakened.

  “Definitely retro, but.. no roommates.” spoke you, gingerly content with the colors piecing this camper pad together. You observe.

  Forget–me–nots bled the cotton bedsheets baby blue, leavening the mattress with a tidy emotion as it's tucked, folded at the top and draped in a complimentary quilt— benevolent blues, hues your lids soften on. The bed beelined from the doorway, a corner counter fawn–brown as the wood extends adjacent to it, covering the northeastern angle of the room. Magpied brands of canned food clutter shelves, spines spanning thick books of epic poetry to sci–fi comics create a ribcage of literature along a compact bookcase perching that countertop, and sunken in the east side of it, a steel sink. It shimmered sunflower bands of light as you moved, a rainbow–arched faucet brightened completely.

  Step by step, you draw near a circular table in the middle. Strange rods and gadgets stuck out of the borders, inlaid glass protecting a local map so sleek you could see a phantom of your face in it, and a black bar looming the width, so it rings with tangible importance. Of which you'll gauge about later. Truthfully, the journey by foot here? Dead–beating, your knees bloated, throbbed flesh hot, and almost buckled; fatigues infamous way of scolding you to sit the fuck—

“Sup Maple lake, you there?” 

  A pang hammers to your heart, and a crawlish wave of startled blood pales from your face and drops to your jaw, “Jesus!” sweat hitting you a blink after, every normal function just— flunked. That voice, more like a ruptured stereo sizzling, caught you the fuck off guard. Now you dither, dumbassery taking your eyes through a new loop of figuring out where–why–how and what the robotic intruder wants.

  But pre–realizing, your ears perk to a more coherent, and outstretched string of static, “C'mon, know you're checked in.” and post–realization tugs your eyes to a mustardy n’ black cased device; a walkie–talkie.

  Okay, way to creep recruits out. Whoever, for whatever reason— at the nick of night too, gimme’ a break. You wry, knitting raisin crinkles above your nose, trying to discern your palette of options; pick up the walkie, tap in and feign politeness in the shortest and sluggiest scraps of small talk to be done with the day, or rant off the bat— highlight how fucking late it is, and how taxing a double–goddamned–day hike made your head and patience feel. And right now, the second response route feels arguably more tempting than—

  “This is Cordero Tower, calling in. Can see ya’ standing by the Osborne, by the way.” 

  Its staticy feedback has waned completely, densening a thick husk and tilting towards a honeyed undertone. Relaxed sounding or not, what the fuck.

  You react predictably, flicking your chin west, then east only for you to meet the dead of night— thanks mountains— stalking perfectly in every single window. So, useless to check. Answering it was a yes–go, it would be sickenly awkward to thrust it under the rug now. Your knees pull forward, eyes calligraphing the power buttons tinted in cherry light, palm drawing to meet your focal point.

  The case is ribbon gentle under your fingertips’ graze, fresh and in store–new condition. Maybe the only thing hot from the pot of newfangled technology. Plastic intricacies roll under until you settle on a swollen button, denting the plush of your finger as you press, hold, and speak. A crisp crackle activates your line, tuning you in.

    Breath hesitates between your chords, “Maple.. lake.. speaking,” off–the–tongue words manifesting on–the–spot, “you can see me?”

  “Yeah.” the walkie chuckles, sugary curl pitching up and through their tone, “Look out ur’ north window, you'll see her.”

Her?

  Nooking your nose north, you only widen pupils on that same, starless coast of darkness nosing the rim of your window sills. What do they mean to—

  “Nh–no,” You literally said north, “get closer to the window, n’ look up.” What, are you a fucking sparkling, rasp–voiced eagle?

  “Fuck are you talking about,” mouthed you void of voice, stumped on what this person was getting at. Wedging your knuckles below the meshy underside of your backpacks right strap, you wrangle it down your arm as you glide rubbery sole along croaking oak, tossing that bag so cumbersome atop a lily white pillow— looking fresher than a daisy, and clamber the mattress pliantly dented to your knees to grasp a broader panorama. 

  And with that window hood washed over, a convoy of fireflies focus a tiny constellation in the murked glass. Little pinholes of light, dots in the distance. They rough–hew a blur, but the excess seconds taken to brood squints and balance the blurry blotches, an outline crops up. Another fire lookout, sprouting from rock and rise of a berg. Offspring of the distant cordillera that gives this whole park its sense of a cradled–woodland, but either way thought, a lookout hosts it home on top.

  “You can see me from all the way out there?” you wondered, truly. I mean— at minimum, a sore sprawl of miles bridges you both.

  “Mhm..” a pause loiters that fluid hum, then some really throaty syllables, “Binoculars~” you could almost envision— nah, feel the stare of those binocs, undoubtedly taking note of every contort in your body right now.

  “Oh thats, totally.. not,” you blunt your tone, shying a few inches from the glass, “.. creepy.” awkwardly. “Uh, who are you anyways— are you like, uh, another recruit?” as you engage small talk, grumpy frown pouting, the habit of kissing your wrist to your jaw as you would a piglet–tailed telephone overruns your burnt out focus, having to wince the walkie away when your eardrums nearly burst.

Ouch.

  “For one, I'm actually your supervisor. I know, I don't sound like a typical smoker–lunged, middle–aged white dude.” their tone gruffs and deepens to impersonate, finger air quotes practically radiating from the other end, “And two, my name is Ellie— Ellie Miller–Williams, if you care.”

  “Don't.” you heave out the pain stretching your head, aching each time you simply thunk.

  “Straightforward,” her timbre ups in approval, seemingly, “I like it. I like you, recruit I dunno’ the name of.” and a bubble hics her throat, quite audibly.

  “Not single.” Wrong, just uninterested. Hooking two fingers in the fabric handle of your bag and craning it to the ground, with scattered grates of plastic buckles skating the floor.

“What?”

  Oh, shit she wasn't— oops, ‘course she meant that platonically, heads so damn muggy,  “Uh, it's—my name.. sorry I’m just a bit out of the loop—” Dumbass, unscramble your brain alphabet soup, will you?

  “That’s a long ass name, what were your parents thinking? Haha.” Her duo–beat chuckle flares your humiliation, and then proceeds to pinch its swollen parts into total inflammation, “Where does it originate from?”  

  Cheesy bitch, “Can you not— I like, pfhh..” you temper yourself with a moon–cool blow to chap your lips and inflate your cheeks, ending up with a draw of an even more loosened tongue sour as it complains, “Did a whole two–day hike through the most torturous terrain just to get here, I really don't—”

Please.

  And if gripes trudged through teeth aren't persuasive enough, you recess your bone–ache bod avidly in the springy haven of your bed which chirped at your weights shifting motions, collarbones packing down on your vocal chords. You shouldn't sound up to chat whatsoever. Instead, vehemently drained, “I just wanna get some shut eye, talk me over n’ the mornin’.” your thumb lying a button away from disconnecting. 

  “Hey, hey—” Ellie ushered, her slurry breath fogging up the mic. Lips squeak softly into it, smacking before an intone, “Can't I be a little curious?”

  You synchronized in noise, sucking teeth behind heart–pursed lips, “Do you think somebody this exhausted has the appetite to entertain you?” stilling your thumb–pad on the power off key.

  “If I keep bothering you,” that alone ticked you, her blatant drive to carry on when your brain rejected its substance, “.. yeah. Maybe you'll be nicer then too.. huph!” a heartier peep hicced up on the speaker, and right then that noise jogged a discovery.

“Are you drunk?” has to be.

  Of course, she ignores the naked and sorely obvious, “Did your boyfriend break ur’ heart or something— an’ that's why you're out here?” bottle sloshing in the background of her mumble.

  Dumbstruck, you furrow a miffy expression, “W–what, boyfriend?” 

  “Said you weren’t single.” she recalls, warmly unspinning the fuddle that knit your brows, “Think I forget so easily?” drawled like a sultry retort, baking your ears.

You a hundred percent forgot though.

  Gosh, short–term memory sucks, or it's just your energy drought making you woozy. Blame it on lethargy, “No no, that was just.. tired talk. I thought you were hitting on me.” 

  “Oh? That's cute.” her choosing to say that latter statement unfolded discordantly, you seriously couldn’t gauge if that was a flirt, or another paper daisy— mock honey, a platonic notion. Even so, it sounded so damn smooth, lace to the ears. “But no, I wasn't— m'not like gay or ‘whutever.” stammered her, light snort fanning.

  A stifled chuckle hops from your chest, mixing with hers, “Uhuh, cool.” halfway uncaring and halfway amused, bafflement working your facial muscles. 

  “Yeah, um, but seriously..” her voice drifts into a ponderous rasp, the faint rustles of flimsy paper licking page to page subtler than her speech, “what's got you out here, newbie?”

“Newbie. Really?” A brow pricks.

  “I mean, you're new— new to the lookout, new to the job, in need of my phenomenal supervision and my wide range of knowledge. Yeah, a newbie.” 

  Then your brow mellows, tension held in your face dropping dead on backhanded flattery, “You are funnily agonizing.”

  “Aw.” her scratchily suave coo has your jaw set like stone, “That's so sweet.” but her short–lived song has your heartstrings soaked in ripe honeycomb, touched to the core by sweetness nebulose and an assortment of some foreign threads. Thickened heart, tighter ribs, a churn to weaken your stomach, a maverick of things unfamiliar to you.

  Momentaries, but still noticeable even if your senses were twisted backwards.

  Chewing over how you'll begin to explain, a few letters sift through your chords, until you hook on a sigh, “Ah, well, I'm out here for a fuck ton of reasons—”

“Reasons, or— huhp, problems?” Ellie blurt–hics, nosy.

“..”

  A brief gulp and exhale wheezes from her, “Sorry, it's the bourbons’— super good. Continue.” 

 You loosely split your mouth, gasping to exchange a gale for words pressing out, “A series of reasons, and problems, that I don't bother to lay on a grand platter, so you'll get a summary tossed on an appetizer plate.” you preface. Allow an elliptical gap to cut through, rousing her hum to let you know her ears are as intent–peaked as a Chihuahua’s, “Contact with my parents’ has gone cold, my last job made me want to hurl into a pack of crocodiles— and the city became too loud and too heavy–handed. Saw this job on the local paper, and got the hell out of dodge.”

An omissive summary, you meant. 

  There’s more that eats the heart. People can’t just.. drop the burden of knowledge wantonly on randos like they’re idling under fertile treetops waiting for the apples to plummet, biting into a pulpy biography. She’s just a girl, not a therapist.

  A discomforted purr lengthens into her reply, “Mmmmh, ever try a drink or two?” her intoxicated reply.

  “Oh, see,” you flap your hand and slap it to your denim clad thigh, “you are drunk.” as if she could even see your gesture.

  “No, I’m Ellie, hmhm~” comes with a giggle, and you consider her state of insobriety to be— wavering, but it’s stimulating to hear her fluctuate between groaned jokes and extra raspy comments, “Still haven’t told me your name though.”

  Some moments during this whole ‘Who are you?’ seminar made you concerned for your future here— if you’ll make it out psyche intact, but some moments found by winnowing through the illogical backtalk touched you with inbound camaraderie.

  Invisible touches that inhabit your neck with a leak of your name so— sincerely. It transforms into a fairer sound on your ears when she repeats it, affirming it. Nobody else's teeth clutches your name so welcome as she.

  “Hmm, ‘name kinda fits your voice.” odd commentary, but since composed with her already peculiar and drunken tongue, the shoe fits.

  That said, crabby confusion seems easier to articulate, “Thanks, weirdo.” but lips rebellious, they press an inevitable grin together. 

“No problem, sleepyhead.”

So many nicknames.

  Recognizing that downtick in hubbubs and breaths on the walkie, checking out for the night posed as a passionate option the burden weighing your eyelids couldn't or shouldn't veto. So you haul your torso up, kick and poke your toes over ankles to butt your boots off prior planting your heels, whisking toward the lightswitch and committing your lookout to swell with the outside's dark fresco. 

Stygian tones.

  “Speaking of sleepy heads..” you taper off speech, leaving the rest to her— touch wood— wide enough, hopefully–not–drunk–enough imagination to fathom as you slide and slip desperately beneath woolen blankets, sleepy worries, and sentences sailed to rest.

  “Aw man.” Ellie bums so, so stupidly, for comical value.

“Yeah, man.”

  “Mpht—” wetness smacks, “wanted to bore a pretty girl to death with recruit regulations and syllabi..”

How would you know?

  In reality, Ellie was reaching a transcendent caliber of wasted, drinking up your atmospherics and drunken to her gutly core. Woods hatch forlorn people; forlorn people get thirsty, “But, mhh, heads’ nearly falling off, whoof.” she expresses a soaring of vowels, but it parallels a gruff howl more. 

  Drowsy, buzzy jubilancy, plucking her flirty strums. You sugarcoat the flare in your chest hearing ‘pretty girl’, ears clicking to the swallow convincing your heart that Ellie was not flirting. As established; She’s under the influence, and not gay. Your brain repeats that, over and over, repeat, repeat, she isn’t flirting. 

  “Hey, here's a tip..” you inch the walkie a penny away from your flopped head, clefting your lip open, “Don't get drunk on the job. They didn't hire you to decoct your brain the day before chaperoning a recruit in the literal wilderness. So, stash that shit, n’ let's both get some shut eye, yeah?” and saying all that, may have just cashed in your last dose of breath and brain cells for the night.

  Ellie being Ellie— well, what you suspect is a ‘her’ thing after these few speckled minutes, dopily laughs at you. And dammit if she wasn't glamoring a dopey smirk in accord, you’ll have gleaned wrong.

  A voice, “Who’s the boss again?” her witty and cruel wisecrack, “They didn't pay you to boss the— hup, boss around.” 

  They will pay you to confront and reflect your spectrum of limits if this girl brushes their seams, that's for certain. Or, play God and lambast her, tender as milk.

  There's even a stroke of a chance, that your crooked lips poached her dopey grin instead, “Kay, well, maybe they'll reimburse me for your poor services.” 

  “My services are not poor. You'll see, tomorrow.” the volume of her melts away, going muted under liquid swills clanging on glass.

  “Please tell me that's the sound of you putting the bottle away.”

  “Mhm!” came out plugged, the bottle confining her garble, then popping clean as a cork, “Fuck— okay,” she siphons air in, pure little clink tinting the end of her sharp–edged sniffle, “Make sleeping in earlier worth it t’morrow, wanna drive you nuts with my questions.” she nasals, drawing near the mic again.

  Such a magpie, “Cause you're lonely?” and weird.

  “Shut up,” she shushes you, a satin whisper light–hearted and quick on beat, “M’not lonely anymore, right?” The type of softly spoken outcry that would balloon your cheeks with soreness if you were face–to–face with the throat that conducts it. Involuntary smiles plague you everywhere. But there is no mouth, no larynx, no throat that you view the swallow of. Just a walkie, so you settle in stoicism.

  You tug your upper–lip and pivot your eyes, drumming up something clever to combat, “In a sense. Not like we’re bunkmates, thank goodness.”

  “Fuck you,” Ellie breaks into a cuss spout so serenely, she sounded small and harmless, “just go to bed.” reduced to birch in winter shed of its brittle autumn arguments.

“Don’t gotta tell me once.”

  By the first full and emphatic giggle she cast just now that wasn’t suppressed nor achieved by humble pie, you take it that Ellie found you funnily harrowing just as her, two peas in an outstretched pod. Fault be with her, for getting wasted. Otherwise, you might have pried her skull open with questions dolled up as a pruner, clipping the forelimbs that are foliated in a messy breadth of first glance leaflets and attitudes until you piece it prettily, in a way that thralls you to never shrink your eyes back into their sockets. Drunk people are like prone beehives though, so you don't prod them.

Tomorrow, you can paint her portrait, or vice versa.

“Whatever you say, newbie.”

And with the whirry crunch of the walkie shutting off, Monday, came to a close.

if you enjoyed this chapter, please lmk what you thought!! i love getting asks about my content ♡

perm taglist: @whore4abby @aouiaa @ellieslittlewhore @baumbii @tlougrl @mina-281 @beabeebrie @fleshunger @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @nicolicht @cosmikoo @xinyaya @sawaagyapong @reinersbigolboobies @brunettedolls-blog @syrenada @fairyysoiree @p4ison1vy @nil-eena @hi2647 @disaster-bi-suki @rarestdoll @narieater @hrtmal @eudaemoniaaaa @ellie-07063 @luvfaeri @carleenaelaine @kissyslut @ellieswh0r3 @beemillss @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @slynxs @maleelee @savannahsdeath @littlegingerperson5 @seraphicsentences series taglist: @tearouthearts @planetloverr @elliesexual @isitadinosaur @eveshyper @3lli3l0v3r @yourmothersfavgirl @emst4rr @theloserqueen @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @whenlostinthedarkness @diddiqueen @deliriousrn

[kyletogaz]

meet cute with kyle

“coco get back here!”

the dog pays you no mind, she just barks excitedly and takes off, much to your dismay. you stand there for a few seconds just watching coco run around the dog park, groaning loudly when she decides to make a new friend with the owner of another dog. you couldn’t believe the little gremlin’s audacity.

when you finally catch up to her, she’s circling the ankles of the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. he’s grinning down at coco, while his giant dog just sits there waiting patiently.

“what’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone?” you hear him coo, as he crouches down to pet coco.

your eyes widen when his fingers reach out for her. you can almost picture coco snapping her little teeth at the man’s fingers and it sends you into a panic. you pick up the pace as you open your mouth to warn him.

“i wouldn’t–”

your words cut off as you stare at them with a bewildered expression. coco’s actually wagging her fucking tail as she presses into the man’s soft strokes against her fur. you stop short. what? any other day, coco’s very wary of strangers. but today, she was being real sweet.

“well nevermind i guess,” you say with a roll of your eyes as you approach them.

the moment this man, this angel, looks up at you, you’re lost. “alright there, love?” you vaguely hear him ask. you don’t say a thing, you’re too busy ogling the man.

he has to ask you a second time if you’re okay, just for you to blink and say huh?

how embarrassing.

he just laughs softly, before flashing you a smile as he stands at his full height. you blink again, this time a little dazed.

“i’m so sorry, i was uh-” you snap your mouth shut at his amused look. you’re starting to get a little flustered in his presence, so you turn your attention to the little pomeranian instead. she’s staring up at you, wagging her tail excitedly. you shake your head with a little laugh. "i give you a little bit of freedom and you take it to the extreme every time."

"she yours?" he gestures to coco who was now playing with his dog's tail.

you're a little surprised at how well behaved the mastiff is while he's being harrassed by coco.

"oh, no! this is my neighbor's dog," you explain, turning your gaze back to the man before you. "i take care of her while they're away. i don't have any pets."

you gently shove coco away from the other dog, so you can bend down to reattach the leash to her collar. you lightly scratch behind her ears once she’s in your arms, whispering for her to never do that again.

"ah, that's very sweet of you, what's her name?" he asks with a soft smile.

you tell him her name is coco.

"she's a tiny rambunctions thing" kyle laughs as he watches coco wriggle in your arms. he reaches out to pet her once more, as she settles down in your arms.

"what are you, a dog whisperer?" you joke as you stroke coco's fur.

"nope, just kyle."

“well it’s nice to meet you, kyle.” your lips quirk up into a small smile as you shake the hand he's offering you. you try not to think about how soft and warm his hand is.

your breath gets a little stuck in your throat when kyle murmurs, “nice meeting you too beautiful.”

oh.

a soft whine from the mastiff catches both yours and kyle’s attention.

"what's his name?" you ask while bending at the waist so you can sink your fingers into the soft fur on top of the dog’s head.

kyle mastiff’s name is bear. it’s fitting, really.

you continue to rub bear’s head, laughing with delight when he presses his nose to your hand after you’ve moved it away. “you’re so cute!” you look up, eyes glinting, making sure you catch kyle's gaze. "might even be cuter than your owner.”

kyle sports an amused grin on his pretty face when he asks, “so you think i’m cute huh?”

you stand up with a shrug, adjusting coco in your arms. “maybe,” is all you give kyle, as you bid him and bear farewell.

"you never gave me your name!" kyle shouts from behind you as you walk across the grass with coco in tow.

when you turn, he has the biggest grin on his face that makes your heart flutter a bit. "i promise i’ll tell you my name when i see you again!” and it’s a promise you intend to keep, because you definitely plan to see kyle again.

"gonna hold you to that, sweetheart."

you don’t miss the way kyle’s eyes light up immediately when you wave goodbye with a sweet smile on your lips.

“c’mon coco. i may have just found you a new uncle.”

a/n: idk, this randomly popped up in my head at 2 in the morning.

[childhood90snostalgia]

90s/00s TV (Personal Memories)

Kids Cartoons

6teen 101 Dalmatians Aaaah!!! Real Monsters Ace Ventura Pet Detective Aladdin TAS All Grown Up Angela Anaconda Angry Beavers Animal Crackers (Telethon) Animaniacs Arthur Babar The Batman (The WB) Batman Beyond (The WB) Batman TAS Beast Wars/Beast Machines Beetlejuice Big Teeth, Bad Breath (YTV) Birdz Bobby’s World (Fox) Bonkers Braceface The Bugs Bunny & Tweety Show Butt-Ugly Martians Bump in the Night CatDog (Nickelodeon) Chip & Dale Rescue Rangers Cow and Chicken Danny Phantom Darkwing Duck Dexter’s Laboratory Dog City Donkey Kong Country Doug DuckTales Earthworm Jim Fairly Odd Parents Fly Tales (Teletoon) For Better or For Worse (Telethon) Freakazoid (The WB) Freaky Stories Free Willy (ABC) Garfield and Friends Gargoyles Goof Troop Hey Arnold I Am Weasel Johnny Bravo Katie and Orbie (CTV) Kim Possible The Legend of White Fang Life with Louie Little Lulu (HBO) The Little Mermaid TAS The Mask TAS Mega Babies Mona the Vampire (YTV) Monster By Mistake (YTV) Neds Newt The New Addams Family The New Batman Adventures (The WB) The New Woody Woodpecker Show PB&J Otter (Disney Channel) Pepper Ann The Pink Panther Pinky and the Brain Pippi Longstocking Powerpuff Girls The Proud Family The Raccoons (CBC) Recess Reboot The Ripping Friends Rocko’s Modern Life Rugrats Rupert (CBS) Sabrina TAS (ABC) Samurai Jack Short Circutz (YTV) Silverling (Teletoon) Sonic (Adventures of) Sonic SATAM Sonic Underground Stickin’ Around Tales From the Cryptkeeper TaleSpin Taz-Mania Teen Titans Timon & Pumba Tiny Toon Adventures (Fox) Tom and Jerry Kids Total Drama Island Totally Spies Voltron the Third Dimension The Weekenders What’s With Andy The Wild Thornberrys (Nickelodeon) The World of Peter Rabbit and Friends X-Men Evolution (The WB) X-Men TAS Yvon of the Yukon (YTV)

Retro

Batman Fireball XL5 The Flintstones The Incredible Hulk Looney Toons Spiderman Tom and Jerry Yogi Bear

Adult Cartoons

Aeon Flux Beavis and Butthead Captain Star Celebrity Death Match Clone High The Critic Cybersix Daria Delta State Futurama The Head (MTV) John Callahan’s Quads (Teletoon) King of the Hill Mission Hill The Oblongs The Simpsons Space Ghost Coast to Coast (Cartoon Network) Spawn Spider-Man the New Animated Series South Park The Tick Undergrads

Anime

Beyblade Digimon Adventures 01 & 02 Cardcaptors Gundam SEED InuYasha Mon Colle Knights Monster Rancher Pokemon Sailor Moon Samurai Pizza Cats Shaman King Sonic X YuGiOh Zoids New Century

Television Series

7th Heaven (The WB) Alf (NBC) Animorphs (Nickelodeon) Are you Afraid of the Dark? Baywatch (NBC) Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction (Fox) Big Wolf on Campus Boy Meets World Breaker High (YTV) Buffy the Vampire Slayer Canded Camera (CBS) Charmed (The WB) Clueless (ABC) Dawson’s Creek (The WB) Degrassi Junior High (CBC) Degrassi High (CBC) Degrassi the Next Generation (CTV) Dinosaurs The Drew Carey Show (ABC) ER (NBC) Even Stevens Family Matters (ABC) Fresh Prince of Bel Air Full House Gilmore Girls (The WB) The Golden Girls (CBC) Goosebumps Home Improvement Lassie (1997) Little House on the Prairie (NBC) Mighty Morphin Power Rangers The Nanny (CBC) The OC (Fox) Radio Active Sabrina the Teenage Witch Saved by the Bell (NBC) Sex and the City (HBO) Sister, Sister (ABC) Smallville (The WB) Smart Guy Student Bodies System Crash (YTV) Teen Angel (ABC) That’s so Raven The Twilight Zone (CBS) White Fang (1993) (CTV) You Wish (ABC)

Educational Programming / Children’s shows

Adventures in Wonderland Art Attack Babar (CBC) Banana’s in Pajama’s Barney and Friends Between the Lions The Big Comfy Couch The Big Friendly Giant Bill Nye the Science Guy Blue’s Clues Caillou (PBS) Camp Caribou Captain Planet Care Bears (ABC) Franklin (CBS) The Friendly Giant (CBC) Hammy the Hamster Iris the Happy Professor Kratt’s Creatures (PBS) Lamb Chop’s Play Along The Magic School Bus Mister Roger’s Neighbourhood (PBS) Mr Dressup (CBC) PJ Katie’s Farm (YTV) Reading Rainbow (PBS) Sesame Street School House Rock Sharon, Lois & Bram’s Elephant Show (CBC) Telefrancais Teletubbies Theodore Tugboat Thomas the Tank Engine Under the Umbrella Tree (CBC) Welcome to Pooh Corner Wishbone (PBS) Zaboomafoo (PBS)

Game Shows/Sketch Comedies

All That America’s Funniest Home Videos (With Bob Saget) American Idol The Amanda Show Battlebots (Comedy Central) Canadian Idol (CTV) Crank Yankers (Comedy Central) The Crocodile Hunter Fear Factor (NBC) The Hit List Jackass (MTV) Just For Laughs Gags (Comedy Central) Kids in the Hall Making the Band (MTV) Much Countdown (Much Music) Much in your Space (Much Music) MuchOnDemand (Much Music) Much Mega Hits (Much Music) Much Spotlight (Much Music) Much Top Tens (Much Music) Newlyweds Nick and Jessica (MTV) Playlist (Much Music) Pop-Up Video (Much Music) Price is Right Punk’d (MTV) The Simple Life (Fox) Supermarket Sweep Uh Oh Unsolved Mysteries (NBC) Video and Arcade top 10 (YTV) Video On Trial (Much Music) Where in the world/time is Carmen Sandiego Whose Line is it Anyway? Win Ben Stein’s Money (Comedy Central)

Television Networks/Programming

Fox Kids Much Music One Saturday Morning PSA’s Teletoon TGIF YTV - The Zone / Snit Station / Short Circuitz

[prompts-woooo]

Lyric prompts 3

Chosen by inexplicable feelings they give me

“You’ll be fine, you honey comb”

“Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so unkind”

“Stop crying, let’s see you smile”

“I feel like my body has died with my soul trapped inside”

“Come on, don’t you remember me?”

“Have you burned my effigy?”

“But traditions I can trace against the child in your face”

“I’m lost in admiration, could i need you this much?”

“It’s hard to be a (man) when there’s a gun in your hand”

“Fall apart without me, body”

“Your beauty never ever scared me”

“The horrible din when you play the violin”

“My whole existence if flawed”

“You can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings”

“You can have my absence of faith”

“You can have my everything”

“Help me become somebody else”

“but I’ll grind against your bones until our marrows mix”

“I’m your servant, my immortal”

“You die like angels sing”

“My pulse will be quickenin’ with each drop of strychnine”

“I wanna feel you in my bones”

“I’m gonna tear into your soul”

“Follow me, I’m on the brink of visual epiphany”

“God is in my skin”

“now you’re the only one here who can tell me if it’s true, that you love me, and i love me”

“Leave all your love and your longing behind, you can’t carry it with you if you want to survive”

“I don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna be alone tonight”

“You keep me dreaming, all I dream is you”

“I don’t care where you’ve been, how many miles, I still love you”

“I’m fucked up just like you are, and you’re fucked up just like me”

“If i die or perish, don’t mourn me. Just drink some red wine and break the glasses”

“If I die or perish, don’t call for any preist, just come to my grave to play a folk-dance”

“And I might know of out future, but you still control the past”

“Andevery night, I will be with you”

“But every night it just stays the same, in my dream of an absolution”

Songs listed in order under the cut

1-2 Community Gardens - The Scary Jokes

3-6 A Mannequin adrift - The Scary Jokes

7-9 Head Over Heels - Tears for Fears

10 Body - Mother Mother

11 Mary On a Cross - Ghost

12 When You Play The Violin - The Gothic Archies

13-17 Closer - Nine Inch Nails

18-20 The Horror of Our Love - Ludo

21 Poisoning pigeons in the park - Tom Lehrer

22-23 desire (slowed) - Hucci

24-25 Mirror man - jack Stauber

26 Kiss me, Son of God - They Might Be Giants

27 Dog Days Are Over - Florence + The Machine

28 Full Moon - Rare Americans

29 Soul On Fire - Mystery Skulls

30-31 Sloppy Seconds - Watsky

32-33 Ako Umram Il’ Zaginam - ??? (Translation by MoniStan on Lyricstranslate)

34-36 Dreams of an Absolution - LB (Remix Factory)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ari!! it’s been way too long since i last dropped by!! i’ve missed you!! how are you?? 

now that spring’s here, i’m lugging in a GIANT basket of flowers of all kinds for you 💐🌷🪻🌹🌻🌸🌺!! + a curious sel question!!! — what’s your favourite thing to do during spring? what do you think bokuto's is? (or whoever is your hq fave!! tho i think i remember bokuto!) 🥺 

SELLLLLLL HI THERE MY ANGEL <33333 pls never worry abt when u drop by hehe, i’m always happy to chat w u whenever!!!! :33 BUT I MISSED U TOOO and ofc i missed ur lovely sel questions …..

i’m putting allll the flowers in pretty vases and sending u a giant heap right back 🌸🌸💐💐🌷🌷🌹🌹🌻🌻🌼🌼 anddd some fruit 🍊🍓🍎🍐 !!

as for the question !!!!! hm hm HMM i honestly think i just loveee going on walks…. nothing beats spring walks imo (autumn walks r a close second tho >:3) it’s just so lovely to stroll around a bright green park…. grab a milkshake from any cute stores i pass…… and seeing the flowers and the bees and everything is always so lovely hhh i can’t wait for everything to bloom :’3

AND AS FOR HQ … bokuto is a cutie but not one of my faves sadly 😞😞 MAYBE ONE DAY THO i’m a big fan of suncoded men so there’s a big chance honestly….. BUT for this question i’m just gonna go w nishinoya bc he feels like a very springcoded boy compared to my other faves !!

i think . :3 he ALSO loves spring walks…… loves to run around like a neglected golden retriever and explore cute little nearby towns <33 would love to pet any dogs he meets and maybe feed a couple duckies <333 i just feel like he LOVES the warmer seasons and gets sm extra energy that he needs to release….. he rlly is like a little puppy i love him sm :((( ANDDD i know he loves ice pops so i think he would just be FEASTING on those and i would be right there w him . we would have a popsicle eating competition and both end up w stomach aches <33 yeah. just fun little spring things!!

but with that being said... as protocol (and my curiosity) demands ….. what abt u sel 🎤🎤🎤 u very much strike me as a spring girlie so i need to know allll ur favorite activities <3 anddd for the hq guys … what spring activities do iwa and oikawa like ?? what would u all do together ??? :3

sel i am sending u all my sunniest vibes ☀️☀️☀️🍊🍊🍊🌻🌻🌻 i hope it’s starting to get a lil warmer and brighter where u are !! ty for checking in as always <333 and have a cute lil picture of ur boys as a treat… look how cute they are aaaa 🥺🥺

[averywiseanimatedcat]

Rewatching Good Omens season 2 liveblog

Season 2, episode 2 ‘The clue’ Post 1

Link to episode 1 post 1

What in the actual duck did Crowley summon here? It’s like a mini sun that shoots sun lazers?? Again-showing how powerful Crowley is he can summon a dam sun looking thing just to smite a few goats. Also unnecessarily dramatic, which I appreciate. Very on brand.

Be gay, so crimes, smite some goats with a giant sun you summoned out of nowhere.

This was so funny it was like they were in a play, and it was cute how Azirphale recognised him and was like ‘oh it’s yooouu’ and immediately dropped the Angel act

Fuck off Gabirel. If I could curse this Angel to a thousand years of stubbing his little toe repeatedly over and over again on a table leg in hell I WOULD. That’s all I have to say about Gabriel. Moving on.

This whole Job flashback is so important to setting up the the conflict of the season which ultimately builds up to Azirphale and Crowleys fight.

The main conflict of this season is Aziraphales fight with his own mortality and beliefs. It’s so sad to watch him get his hopes up just to have them dashed again and again when he’s trying to find reason or meaning in the events that are unfolding in front of him. He has a very strong sense of justice, and the events of the Job flashback are obviously disturbing to him. So much so that he actually goes AGAINST gods will to try and stop Crowley when he thinks he’s going to hurt the children. He spends the whole thing bouncing around between rebellion and conformity. And it’s really telling that he is still in the same struggle in the present day. He hasn’t resolved anything, he’s just gotten more comfortable with breaking the rules (probably bc of his scary dog privileges, aka, Crowley)

Moving on….

This is the face of a man in the process of experiencing the ick. His ick is anyone but Crowley or him touching his books but I think his ick is also Gabriel in general.

This is an ick we share. Fuck Gabriel. Even when he’s Jim.

I have multiple questions- first of all, does Crowley ever clean his windscreen?

Second of all-why does he park in this random ass street all the time? Does he want Azirphale to think he’s out doing something cool and important when really he has nothing to do and no house to go to? Then he can pull up all suave like whenever Azirphale calls? I bet this street is like 2 minutes from the bookshop so he can pretend he was far away then drive up at the perfect time.

You need a hobby Crowley, like a real one, and saving your Angel over and over again is not a hobby. You also need a therapist but that’s another discussion…

Also-I love how DISGUSTINGLY sarcastic he is this season. He’s really turned it up like five notches. Probably compensating for the fact everyone knows he’s attached to the hip with Azi so he gotta turn up the cool/unbothered sarcastic demon of the underworld act while he sleeps in his car with his houseplants. What a gay disaster I love him.

Aziraphale is a mood here not knowing what to do when someone’s crying infront of them

Me whenever I see Gabriel even when he’s Jim. That’s my middle finger if it wasn’t clear enough.

Fuck Gabriel and therefore also fuck Jim. I hope he drops his toast in the morning, spread side down.

BUT I have to admit-Jim is hyperactive ADHD personified and I appreciate the comedy.

But still fuck you Gabriel.

Azirphales face in the background when he thinks their about to discover Gabriel: a toddler who thinks if they can’t see you, you can’t see them.

Link to next post

[timmburrton]

Character Representation: Elsa Van Helsing

Name: Elsa Forsberg

From Helsingborg, Sweden 

She // Her || Lesbian || 22 {March 3 // Pisces} || 4'10"

Occupation: Dog Groomer

Appearance: Long Jet Black Hair {she Sometimes Cuts it to Shoulder Length}, Grey Eyes, Ear Piercings, No Tattoos or Extra Piercings, Wears a lot of Black and Greys, Dresses, Oversized Hoodies, Only Really Wears Black, Lots of Necklaces and Rings, Baggy Jeans, Leather Jackets, Leather Dresses, Likes Lace and Leather

Personality: Friendly, Happy Baby, Chill, Calm, Gets Excited Easily, Great Listener, Professional Yapper, Shy Around Pretty Women

Likes: Dogs, Taking Pictures, Jackets, Big Scarves, Being Warm, Parks, Animals, Music, Her Headphones, ✨Women✨

Dislikes: Being Yelled at, Loud Noises, Animal Abuse, Ice, the Cold, Snow, Being Scared

Values: Care; She is very caring and sweet and would like a partner who can give the same back. She values putting care and positivity into the world and protecting the things she cares about. Someone who can be sweet with her would be great and she will be the greatest baby ever.

NSFW: Strict Obedient Sub {Might Dom But Will Need to be Guided}; Size Kink, Breeding {Receiving}, Nicknames {Puppy, Princess, Angel, Good Girl, Etc., Receiving and Giving}, Toys {Receiving}, Collaring {Receiving}, Bondage {Receiving}, Choking {Receiving}, Marking {Giving and Receiving}, Praise {Giving and Receiving}, Humiliation/Degradation {Receiving}, Burning {Receiving}, Oral {Giving and Receiving}, Overstim {Receiving}, Edging {Receiving}, Pet Play {Puppy Girl, Giving}, Pain Kink {Receiving}, Impact Play/Spanking {Receiving}, Auralism, Public {Giving and Receiving}, Being Recorded/Watched, Thigh Riding {Giving}, Begging {Giving} {She is willing to try most kinks, might sub drop with harder ones but will do whatever to please her partner. She won’t dom easily and will take a lot of patience and guidance to get her to dom.}

Relations Within the bot: Sonny {Childhood Best Friend; The Tall Green Giant🍃}, Ramiro {Close Friend; Sweetness🥰}, Chaoxing {Best Friend; Greatest Pup🐩}

Relationship: Unsure, Uninterested {0/?}

Sign off 🐾Elsa

Faceclaim: @/royalbllood on Instagram

[agapemastiffs]

Queens of the Roof of the World: A Look at Tibetan Mastiff Females and Their Adorable Floofballs

So, you're considering welcoming a Tibetan Mastiff into your life? Buckle up, because you're not just getting a dog, you're adopting a living legend – a descendant of ancient guardians with an independent spirit, a loyalty fiercer than the Himalayan winds, and enough fur to knit a winter coat for a yeti (okay, maybe a slight exaggeration, but you get the picture). But here's the question – are you Team Male Tibetan Mastiff or Team Female Tibetan Mastiff? This article will delve into the world of the Tibetan Mastiff female, exploring her unique personality traits and how they translate to both adulthood and puppyhood.

The Tibetan Mastiff Matriarch: Fiercely Loyal with a Side of Independence

Female Tibetan Mastiffs are known for their intelligence, independence, and unwavering loyalty. They're not your average lapdogs – they're more like living lionesses with a regal air and a protective instinct that runs deeper than the Himalayas themselves. Don't mistake their independence for aloofness – they crave a strong, consistent leader (that's you!). Early socialization and training are crucial to building a trusting bond with your Tibetan Mastiff matriarch. Once that bond is established, you'll gain a fiercely loyal companion who will happily guard your home with the watchful gaze of a mountain sentinel.

The Guardian Angel (with Selective Hearing)

These ladies are bred for guarding, and their protective instincts are legendary. They'll bark with the booming voice of a Tibetan foghorn at anything suspicious, whether it's a rogue yak or a delivery person just trying to do their job. While their impressive bark is enough to deter most, continued socialization is key. Dog parks, walks in different neighborhoods, and introducing them to new people will ensure their guard dog tendencies don't morph into over-protectiveness. However, remember that independent streak? Don't be surprised if they decide to guard the house in their own unique way, which might involve ignoring your frantic calls to come inside when a suspicious squirrel appears (because let's face it, squirrels are clearly a potential threat to national security in a Mastiff's mind).

Myth Busting: The (Relatively) Manageable Floof

Compared to their male counterparts, female Tibetan Mastiffs are generally considered slightly smaller and less prone to excessive shedding (although "less" is a relative term when it comes to these furry giants). Sure, there will be tumbleweeds of fur rolling around your house on a regular basis, and brushing sessions will become a weekly ritual, but it's nowhere near the furpocalypse you might encounter with a Chow Chow. Think of it as a built-in winter coat for both you and your furniture (and a constant reminder to keep a heavy-duty vacuum cleaner handy).

The Upkeep of a Mountain Guardian: Exercise, Training, and Lots of Love

Taking care of a female Tibetan Mastiff requires dedication (and a strong back). These active pups (well, active for their size) need plenty of exercise – walks, playtime, and activities that challenge their minds. A bored Mastiff is a recipe for destructive chewing and excessive barking. Think of them as royalty with a working-class spirit and a need for moderate exercise with plenty of mental stimulation, and you'll be on the right track. Positive reinforcement training is key, as they respond best to praise, treats, and patience.

The Adorable Floofball Brigade: A Blizzard of Cuteness with Sharp Teeth

Now, let's talk about those irresistible Tibetan Mastiff puppies! Both male and female pups are bundles of cuteness with a tendency to trip over their oversized paws and leave muddy paw prints the size of dinner plates. However, the female Tibetan Mastiff puppy might be slightly less boisterous than their male counterparts. They'll still wrestle with their siblings and explore their world with boundless enthusiasm, but they might be a touch more receptive to training from the get-go (although stubbornness can certainly bloom early on in both genders).

Living the High Life (Without the Altitude)

Living with a female Tibetan Mastiff is certainly an adventure. They'll turn heads wherever they go, you'll constantly answer questions about their ancient lineage (prepare to educate the masses about these incredible mountain guardians!), and be prepared for the occasional "OMG, is that a bear?!" (Let's just spread awareness about these magnificent Molosser dogs). But through the occasional drool puddle, the enthusiastic greetings that leave you slightly windblown, and the never-ending battle against fur tumbleweeds, you'll gain a loyal, loving companion who will enrich your life in ways you never imagined.

A Commitment for Life

Tibetan Mastiffs, both male and female, have a lifespan of 10-12 years. That's a long time, so make sure you're prepared for the commitment before bringing one home. Consider your lifestyle – do you have the time and space for a large, active dog with a mind of its own? Are you prepared for the regular grooming, training, and potential stubbornness that comes with the territory?

Conclusion: A Love as High as the Mountains

If you can answer those questions with a resounding "yes," then a female Tibetan Mastiff might just be your perfect match. These gentle giants, with their independent spirit and unwavering loyalty, will become an integral part of your family. They'll be your loyal shadow on hikes, your cuddly companion on movie nights, and your fierce protector (with a side of selective hearing) 24/7.

So, if you're looking for a canine companion who will be your loyal guardian, your walking fur monster (with a side of drool), and a constant source of amusement (because let's face it, watching a giant floof navigate the world is endlessly entertaining), then a female Tibetan Mastiff might just be your perfect queen of the castle (or couch, or wherever she decides to claim as her throne). 

Just remember, with great cuteness comes great responsibility (and a never-ending supply of drool rags, lint rollers, and toys built to withstand the power of a gentle giant's chew). But trust us, the love, laughter, and companionship a Tibetan Mastiff brings are more than worth the extra effort. Welcome your future queen to the home – she's ready to reign over your heart with a quiet dignity and a love as enduring as the Himalayas themselves.

A Watchful Protector: For The Progression Of The Ages

Mastiffs, gentle giants with ancient roots, come in various breeds. Loyal guardians with calm temperaments, they require ample space, training, and experienced owners due to their size and strength. Though some breeds have wrinkles, all Mastiffs offer a lifetime of devotion.

Tibetan Mastiffs For Sale

[nerendus]

Okay, under the button since it's like almost two hundred movies, but I want to start making some progress on watching these films, but despite it being two hundred, my brain says that it is still a small list, so I am once again looking for more movie recs. 🙇

1. Requiem for a Dream

2. Pacific Rim

3. War Games

4. Sharp Objects (2018) dir. Jean-Marc Vallée

5. Les soeurs Brontë (1979)  

6. Crimes of the Future

7. Videodrome

8. Jackass

9. Novitiate (2017)

10. The Sons of Katie Elder

11. El Dorado

12. Raw Deal

13. The Running Man (arnold)

14. The Mist

15. Black Mountain Side

16. In The Mouth of Madness

17. The Fifth Element

18. The Many Saints of Newark (will watch show first)

19. James Bond series

20. Resident Evil (seven thousandth watch)

21. The Boy and the Heron

22. Moulin Rouge

23. Bill and Ted (second watch)

24. The Day The Earth Stood Still

25. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 

26. Jurassic Park (second watch)

27. Robocop

28. The Perks of Being a Wallflower

29. The Boondock Saints

30. Legally Blonde (second watch)

31. The Fog (second watch)

32. Llamageddon 

33. Hellraiser

34. Candyman

35. Shaun of The Dead (second watch)

36. Scarface

37. The Shawshank Redemption

38. Ghost in The Shell

39. No Country for Old Men

40. Kill Bill series

41. The Wolf of Wall Street

42. Watchmen

43. Lone Wolf and Cub series

44. Last Night in Soho

45. Throne of Blood

46. Fargo

47. Hereditary

48. David Lynch:: The Art Life

49. Wayne's World series

50. I Am Legend (second watch)

51. Grease 

52. Good Will Hunting

53. The VVitch

54. Leatherface

55. Fantastic Planet

56. Blue Velvet

57. Pulp Fiction (second watch)

58. Twister (second watch)

59. Donnie Darko (second watch)

60. Tales from Earthsea

61. The Secret World of Arrietty

62. Late Spring (1949)

63. From Up on Poppy Hill

64. Rashomon

65. Intermezzo

66. Casablanca

67. When Marnie Was There

68. The Wind Rises

69. The Tale of Princess Kaguya

70. I Married a Witch

71. David Bowie: The Last Five Years

72. Vampyr

73. Kill Boksoon

74. Glass Onion series

75. The Wonder (2022)

76. Hook (1991) (second watch)

77. Time Trap

78. The Yin Yang Master

79. Hold The Dark

80. All Quiet on the Western Front

81. The Cloverfield Paradox

82. Reservoir Dogs

83. Spider-man (2002)

84. The Karate Kid series

85. Unknown Cosmic Time Machine

86. The Good Nurse (2022)

87. What Did Jack Do?

88. Banyuki

89. Amina (2021)

90. The Colony (2021)

91. Cities of Last Things

92. The Metamorphosis of Birds

93. The Mirror (andrei)

94. Andrei Rublev

95. Nostalgia (andrei)

96. The Sacrifice (andrei)

97. Ivan's Childhood (andrei)

98. The Steamroller and Violin (andrei)

99. Sunset Blvd (1950)

100. Ikiru (1952)

101. Seven Samurai (1954)

102. Citizen Kane

103. Dr. Strangelove

104. La La Land (2016)

105. Noriko's Dinner Table

106. The Godfather

107. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

108. The Good The Bad The Ugly

109. Mad Max Fury Road

110. Goodfellas

111. Indiana Jones series

112. Fight Club

113. Galaxy Quest

114. Dunkirk

115. Groundhog Day

116. Star Trek movies

117. Full Metal Jacket

118. Pink Floyd: The Wall

119. Naked Lunch

120. The Iron Giant

121. Chinatown (1974)

122. Minority Report

123. Velvet Goldmine

124. Dogma

125. To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newma

126. The Prestige

127. Annie Hall

128. Taxi Driver

129. Dead Poets Society

130. The Matrix

131. The Green Mile

132. Django Unchained

133. Your Name

134. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

135. Inland Empire

136. The Elephant Man

137. Lost Highway

138. Woman in the Dunes

139. Meshes of an Afternoon

140. Tokyo  Decadence 

141. Limbo (1999)

142. Maps to the Stars

143. The Machinist

144. Under the Silver Lake

145. The Northman

146. Kingdom of Heaven

147. The Grand Budapest Hotel

148. The Revenant (alejandro)

149. A Clockwork Orange

150. Incendies

151. Apocalypse Now

152. Knight of Cups

153. Once Upon a Time in America

154. Valhalla Rising

155. Inception

156. Interview with a Vampire

157. But I'm a Cheerleader

158. Angels in America

159. Pan's Labyrinth 

160. Clue

161. Asteroid City

162. Anastasia

163. Jo jo rabbit

164. Fantastic Mr. Fox

165. Rambo

166. Mission Impossible 

167. Suspiria

168. Jarhead

169. Macbeth

170. Mishima: A Life In Four Chapters 

171. Visions of Ecstasy

172. The Handmaiden (2016)

173. The Fly (cronenberg)

174. Dead Ringers

175. Tenet

176. Sicario

177. Vanishing on 7th Street

178. Invasion of the Body Snatchers

179. Gladiator

180. Once Upon a Time in the West

181. Children of the Corn

182. The Revenant 2016

183. Transformers series

184. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance

185. Gaslight (1944)

186. The Road

187. Vesper

188. The Hills Have Eyes

189. Tentacles

190. Die Hard series 

191. Freddy Got Fingered

192. The Day After Tomorrow 

193. The Song of the Scarlet Flower (Teuvo Tulio, 1938)

194. Jane Eyre

195. Northanger Abbey (2007) 

196. Lady Chatterley`s Lover (2015)

197. LA COLLECTIONNEUSE (1967) dir. Éric Rohmer

198. The Lion In Winter

[artificialqueens]

🏳️‍🌈 Carnival Games (Sashea) - Mock-Star 

pure fluff i wrote while i worked at an amusement park that's been rotting in my wips ever since, but i wanted to contribute to the pride challenge so here I am. Shea wins Sasha a giant plushie. that's it, that's the plot. 

Walking along the boardwalk, Sasha breathed in the sweet smell of cotton candy and stretched like a cat, enjoying the sun. Walking next to her, Shea was entranced as Sasha finished the last of her soda and clipped the reusable cup to the backpack that Shea was wearing. They had a brief "fight" over who was going to wear it, both of them insisting that they wore it before Sasha relented. 

"I need to go to the bathroom." Sasha sighed, laying eyes on the closest one to see that the line was out the door. 

"Do you wanna try and find a less crowded one?" Shea asked, knowing that Sasha would only make them stop if she really needed to go. 

"No, if we find another one, it's going to be just as crowded. Hopefully the line will move fast. Go ahead and walk around a little, I'll text you when I get out." Sasha said, kissing Shea on the cheek and power walked over to the bathroom line. 

Shea continued walking, although she didn't want to go too far. She turned a corner and discovered a small cluster of carnival games. Her eyes landed on a row of giant bear plushies that were the prizes for a ball toss game. They were definitely taller than her. She imagined Sasha trying and failing to pick one up, and she chuckled to herself. She decided right then she had to try and win one. The game was most likely rigged, and they definitely couldn't take it home if she did win, but she didn’t particularly care. She mentally gave herself 3 games to win and stepped up and paid for her first game.

It turns out, one game was all she needed, since she landed two balls in back to back. She cheered in surprise as the attendant rang a bell then asked what color she wanted, then dug a fresh one up from a back room. The bear was lighter than she expected, and she carried it over to a bench to wait for Sasha. Her text came after a few minutes, and Shea told her where she was. She could see her from about 60 feet away, the sun shining through her like the angel she was. She laid eyes on Shea when she was about 30 feet away, and Shea could see her surprise and subsequent eye roll as she approached. 

“Why?” she laughed, hugging Shea then hugging the bear 

“Because I wanted to see you smile” 

“You didn’t spend all of our cash, did you?” 

“No, no, no. Believe it or not, I won in one try.”

“What game did you play?”

“That one over there, the one where you toss the balls into a bin.”

"How on earth are we supposed to get this home? We flew here!" 

"Ship it." Shea said, barely holding back laughter. 

"That's going to be super expensive!"

"So?"

"So the price of the shipping is going to be like 10 times what it's worth! Darling, I am so grateful that you won this for me, so, so grateful. But we can't reasonably get this back home. How about we make a little kids day and then I'll let you win me a more reasonable sized toy." 

"You're hurting my feelings here Sasha!" Shea laughed. 

"I'm sorry love." Sasha cooed as she kissed Shea's cheek. "I do want a picture with it before we give it away though, it's almost as big as I am!"

"I know, that's why I played for it."

After 5 minutes of picture taking, the giant bear was handed off to a thrilled family of little girls and their parents, and Sasha led Shea to a game that would be easy to win, a guessing game where the worker had to guess a persons person's weight, age, or birth month, and after handing over 10 dollars and stepping on a giant scale, Shea won easily, and Sasha chose a husky dog plushie that was more manageable to carry, about the size of her torso as opposed to the size of her. Sasha leaned into Shea as they walked back to where they started, and Shea kissed the side of her head and then kissed the dogs head, already fondly remembering the day.

Pride Challenge Points: 199

[honeyjets]

All the bands I saw in 2023

The Scientist

Renaldo Domino

Middle Aged Dad Jam Session

The Cottontails

Abracadabra

Naked Roommate

Dune Rats

Lola Kirke

Margo Price

The “Detroit Cobras”

Marika Christine

Analog Dog

Mae Powell

Wormy

Samia

Biig Piig

Tchotchke

King Tuff

Regina Spektor

Body Double

Michael Rault

Son Rompe Pera

Pearl Charles

Whitney

Indianna Hale

Tchotchke (again)

King Tuff (again)

Vic Wong

Agua Pura

Los Bitchos

The Cottontails (again)

Meredith Edgar

Mayya

Neutrals

The Green Door

Alex Lahey

Everyone Is Dirty

B. Hamilton

Peter Asher

Britt Powers

Kendra McKinley

The Paranoyds

Automatic

The Voidz

Karina Denike

Haley Kiyoko

Alex Lahey (again)

OGI

Santigold

Healing Gems

Subsonics

Gracie Abrams

Haim

Taylor Swift

The Seshen

Sour Widows

Juicebumps

Lucinda Williams

Big Thief

Curling

Curling (again)

Nation of Language

Curling (third time)

Kepi

Plash

Curling (fourth time)

Bev Rage and The Drinks

Bully

White Reaper

Spoon

Weezer

Pearl Earl

Dorothea Paas

U.S. Girls 

Swingin’ Utters

Caleb Santos

Codefendants

Lagwagon

Circle Jerks

NOFX

Sour Widows (again)

Cable Ties

Satya

Sheila E.

Abracadabra (again)

W.H. Lung

Black Polish

Hemocke Springs

Loyle Carner

King Tuff (third time)

Angel Olsen

Christelle Bofale

Molly Burch

Decisive Pink

Daydream Twins

Annabelle Chairlegs

Reckling

Xoce Roman

AroMa

Ruth Radelet

Agar Agar

Pearl Charles (again)

Lola Kirke (again)

Arushi Jain

Courtney Barnett

Girl Ray

Eric Silverman

Emily Nenni

Genesis Owusu

A Giant Dog

Gretel Hänlyn

Karina Denike

Jenny Owen Youngs

Briana

April Magazine

Stephen Steinbrink

Metzger’s Field

Indianna Hale

Diminished Men

The Atomic Bomb Audition

Logan Ledger

Shabazz Palaces

Jenny Lewis

Nourished by Time

Vagabon

Vincent Gargiulo National Park

The Four Eyes

Alcatraz Islanders

Plus too many Little Croquettes jam sessions to count. I went to many of these with @lessjokes and a few with @lizzylizzylizzy. NOFX with @vicwomg was the most memorable since we got to be on stage with the band the whole time. Taylor was the best though, followed by Annabelle Chairlegs and Ruth Radelet and Agar Agar (all of which were part of the Psyched Radio festival, can't wait for next year), and also all the Curling shows were a blast, especially the one with Plash. (Check all of them out if you haven't already!)

[transmarks]

❁(╥﹏╥) CRAWL (╥﹏╥)❁: A playlist for daydreaming about Crowley and all his lil situations Track list (ok to shuffle): I Palindrome I - They Might Be Giants Someday mother will die and I'll get the money / Mom leans down and says, "My sentiments exactly, / You son of a bitch" Everyone - Mitski And I opened my arms wide to the dark / I said take it all, whatever you want / I didn't know that I was young / I didn't know what it would take I Know - Fiona Apple So be it, I'm your crowbar / If that's what I am so far / Until you get out of this mess Andrew in Drag - The Magnetic Fields The moment he walked on the stage my tail began to wag / Wag like a little weiner dog for Andrew in drag The Party's Crashing Us - Of Montreal Still, I only feel alive when the VU is flashing / Alarms going off in my head june 14th - Lauren Auder And oh, if you keep me near / I'll accept it's a joke / 'Cause you could be the one keeping me here, love Posing In Bondage - Japanese Breakfast Closeness / Proximity / I needed / Bondage I Just Want To Talk To You - Charles Brown, Sleepy Creek I know it's crazy to be calling this time of night / I just want to hear your voice / Oh, anything you say would make me feel alright God Sent Me Here To Rock You - Naomi Elizabeth God sent me here to rock you / He gave me a job to do / He told me "Girl, you have to show them / The way I do things here in Heaven" Xanny Bar - Porches You said "I'm Edith and I've always been a mess" / Well nice to meet you maybe we'll undress / But we could just lie down / We both could use the rest Butch In The Streets - Tribe 8 She's a butch in the streets, femme in the sheets / She's just a girl when she goes home Sand Angel - Bachelor Waking up from a dream / Where you hold me kiss me / And I can't fall back asleep Endless Love - Thao & The Get Down Stay Down I don't want it / I don't want it / Carve it on out of me The Deal - Mitski I want someone to take this soul / I can't bear to keep it / I'd give it just to give / And all I will take are the consequences / Will somebody take this soul? Interstate Vision - Lomelda Still I sit with you in parking lots / Acting like I'm not falling for it I Miss That - Porches I bury my face in the neck of my friend / I got it in my head just thinking / I like that, I like that, I like that

cover art by me, it is a wip for a lil animatic thing i'm making for sightofsea's affection and other cravings which you def need to go read if you havent already!

[darkarfs]

100 Favorite Albums (2023 Edition)

No duplicate entries, only 3 Mike Patton projects, being honest with myself. This was hard and took a good long time. Be kind if you judge.

I've been really listening to music for over 30 years and I still know nothing. The numbers are just there for enumeration, this list is in no order.

The Flatlanders - More a Legend Than a Band

Opeth - Blackwater Park

Propagandhi - Today's Empires, Tomorrow's Ashes

Aphex Twin - Selected Ambient Works, Vol. 2

Alva Noto and Ryuichi Sakamoto - Insen

Black Sabbath - Master of Reality

Gillian Welch - Time the Revelator

Acrania - Fearless

Genghis Tron - Board Up the House

Mr. Bungle - California

Fair To Midland - Arrows and Anchors

Gorguts - Obscura

Harold Budd - Avalon Sutra

Loscil - Plume

Ben Frost - By the Throat

Type O Negative - October Rust

Songs: Ohia - Didn't It Rain

Emeralds - Does It Looks Like I'm Here?

Skeleton Key - Fantastic Spikes Through Balloon

They Might Be Giants - Flood

Cocteau Twins - Heaven or Las Vegas

Between the Buried and Me - Colors

Breeders - Last Splash

Gang Starr - Moment of Truth

Tom Waits - Rain Dogs

Bohren & der Club of Gore - Black Earth

Cryptopsy - None So Vile

Megadeth - Rust In Peace

Vince DiCola and Various Artists - Transformers: the Motion Picture OST

Judas Priest - Painkiller

Gwar - Carnival of Chaos

Mike Patton - Mondo Cane

Pyrrhon - What Passes For Survival

The Bug - London Zoo

Laurie Anderson - Big Science

Talk Talk - Laughing Stock

Venetian Snares - Rossz Csillag Alatt Született

Anaal Nathrakh - Codex Necro

Vangelis - Blade Runner OST

Killing Joke - S/T (2003)

Fiona Apple - The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do

Prince - Purple Rain

Brian Eno - Before and After Science

Bark Psychosis - Hex

Finntroll - Ur Jordens Djup

Life Without Buildings - Any Other City

Ephel Duath - The Painter's Palette

Tangerine Dream - Phaedra

Sawako - Hum

The Coup - Party Music

David Sylvain and Holger Czukay - Plight and Premonition

Grouper - Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill

Butthole Surfers - Locust Abortion Technician

Sade - Diamond Life

Esquivel - Latin-Esque

Kesha - Rainbow

Tindersticks - Curtains

Emily A. Sprague - Water Memory / Mount Vision

Demdike Stare - Tryptych

Kyle Bobby Dunn - Ways of Meaning

Electric Wizard - Dopethrone

Boards of Canada - Music Has the Right to Children

Pixies - Surfer Rosa

Boris - Pink

The Humble Bee - A Miscellany for the Quiet Hours

Captain Beefheart - Safe as Milk

Dream Theater - Awake

Madvillain - Madvillainy

Dillinger Escape Plan - Miss Machine

Cyndi Lauper - She's So Unusual

Deli Creeps - Dawn of the Deli Creeps

the Mountain Goats - All Hail West Texas

Animals as Leaders - The Joy of Motion

Yellow Magic Orchestra - Solid State Survivor

Taylor Deupree - Faint

Faith No More - Angel Dust

Diablo Swing Orchestra - Pandora's Pinata

Silver Jews - American Water

Sigh - Imaginary Sonicscape

Metallica - Master of Puppets

GAS - S/T

Charles Dodge - Earth's Magnetic Field

Gojira - The Way of All Flesh

Cattle Decapitation - The Anthropocene Extinction

Benoit Pioulard - Precis

Sparks - Angst In My Pants

Stars of the Lid - The Ballasted Orchestra

Daughters - You Won't Get What You Want

Exlimitir - It Weighed Itself In Silver

Defeated Sanity - Passages Into Deformity

The Mars Volta - De-Loused in the Comatorium

Belong - October Language

h hunt - Playing Piano For Dad

Oneohtrix Point Never - Garden of Delete

CRYSTAL - Reflection Overdrive

Sleepytime Gorilla Museum - Of Natural History

Ween - Quebec

Kurt Vile - God Is Saying This To You

Akira Rabelais - Eisoptrophobia

Twine - S/T

[kevin--of-desert-bluffs]

WTNV quick rundown - 54 - A Carnival Comes to Town

Hey it's the holidays let's get this done! Featuring the additional vocal talent of Dylan Marron as Carlos the Scientist.

The secret to a long life lies in how acutely you perceive time. Welcome to Night Vale.

A carnival comes to town and parks on Bandera Street. It seems to be a completely regular carnival, but Cecil twists it to sound weird due to the NV-normal xenophobia and lack of an understanding of what a carnival is.

Cecil acts like the carnival has low-level hypnotic properties, but it doesn't really do anything and as the mob drives them out the workers seem genuinely afraid and mention that they're just really lost and that NV is weird.

They burn some of the toys that were left behind and celebrate their victory shaking farm tools and animal parts. Also shouting 'interloper' at new people is apparently the NV norm and, mandatory.

We also hear a voicemail from Carlos. In his usual rambling way (got that Autistic swag going on), he reveals to us that the pictures in the lighthouse aren't pictures so much as windows to other dimensions. You can't go into them, but you can watch them. Carlos uses it to watch Cecil shave and apologises for having no time to look for a way back. He declares the otherworld to be the most scientifically interesting place he's ever seen.

Old Woman Josie and the Erika's have finally broken ground at the 'new old opera house' location. Nobody in NV actually knows what opera is. Nor will they acknowledge the Erika's are angels yet, even though they have it all over the new Strex's posters etc that the company is 'angel owned and angel operated'.

Intern Maureen is actually alive and seemed interested in the carnival, so is upset that Cecil helps to drive them out by encouraging people to revolt. Cecil says he just doesn't understand teenagers.

Apparently there is a twice-annual 'cleaning of the books' at the library. This is done to make sure that the librarians have not sneaked in any 'forbidden literature' like Pride and Prejudice. Dana supports this but thinks that the librarians are more dangerous than the books. Tamika does not support this and says that everyone should be able to read any book they want. Cecil supports the suppression of books and tries to 'compromise' by saying maybe they could allow only a few trustworthy people like Tamika to read books and allow everyone else to stay ignorant.

Weather: "Bremen" by PigPen Theatre Co pigpentheatre.com

Doug (the giant masked warrior) has a partner, Alicia, who is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns. They have a dog and are trying to make a new currency based on sand.

The Erika's have seven cheekbones.

Old Woman Josie refuses to let the Erikas help her making the cement, and scolds them for not recording things on TiVo, reluctantly admitting she can watch catch up TV elsewhere. It's clear she has a lot of authority over them/they respect her a lot.

Approved literature includes biographies of Helen Hunt and all four of Dean Koontz' novels.

People with human bodies and coyote heads, eating armadillos out of duffel bags, turned up to mourn Maureen at the rec centre when they thought she was dead for the second time. Cecil assumes they're from the college.

There is an 'Abandoned Lot District' which is apparently full of lots that people do own, but they're not allowed to build on so just stand around talking hopefully about one day that rule being lifted.

Stay tuned next for people arguing about sports. Not on the radio, somewhere else. Somewhere and soon people will be arguing about sports. I don't know what's happening next on the radio. I never do. And as always, good night Night Vale. Good night.

Proverb: Say what you will about dance, but language is a limited form of expression.

[angelcakesupreme]

so bored so i’m going to do this

1. odd question regarding the true part but, yes my name is zaria.

2. december 1st

3. 5’4”

4. taken by a pumpkin 🙂

5. i really like to apply three cute words together to get a good url.

6. i personally can adore both but if i had to chose, dogs. bigger dogs though because i don’t feel fond of smaller dog breeds lol. older cats are really cool.

7. as far as live action, i really like indie movies or films that generally focus on the slice of life genre. also films exploring a character navigating growth or love. i’m open to a lot of animation too but i adore surrealism and similar genres as my live action preferences for that too.

8. i really do wish i read more. its pretty difficult with adhd/autism but i do find myself fascinated with early 1900s children’s book illustrations.

9. both of my ears are pierced and i don’t want anymore.

10. i’ve always wanted to go to a safe meadow with flowers and sit under a large tree while letting a cute radio play 60s indie garage rock. my boyfriend and i will have a large quilted blanket out with a beautiful and classy packed picnic lunch with glassware and cute napkins. we have sandwiches, soup, iced tea, chocolates and a charcuterie board. different types of cheeses with honey and jams and meat for him. we laugh at weird jokes we make, play card games, maybe do arts and crafts together and watch the sunset. maybe watch the stars too. bonus to be near a river running quietly the whole time.

11. black iced coffee!

12. hard question to answer. i generally really dislike the idea that my passions have to intertwine with unhealthy capitalistic methods just to make ends meet. …i know there’s more optimistic ways to view that but i’m completely indifferent about pursuing a conventional idea of a career. i don’t have time or connections to do it but if possible something involving freelance art commissions or comics would be cool.

13. i don’t have this.

14. tofu pho easily! i can never get tired of it.

15. year of the tiger. tigers are cute but i wish it was rabbit!

16. i like knitting, baking and journaling.

17. i been to some pretty ordinary places really. i’ve been to quite a bit of the southern east coast of america and then to michigan and los angeles. thats about it.

18. i think i’d love to go to finland or japan.

19. japanese, french, finnish, russian and spanish.

20. just english, i can understand a considerable but small amount of spanish or japanese.

21. it’s hard to say… i really like all for different reasons but maybe spring at the moment.

22. i love stuffed animals. i own many like my melody, bunnies, an octopus cat, a teddy i had since 2005, and rilakkuma just to name a few.

23. i never had the former so tofu spaghetti for me.

24. being able to very easily recognize what year a piece of media came from.

25. i’ll go with a cute golden dagger with flowers and a bunny on it.

26. a rustic prep type of aesthetic i suppose. i definitely have it!

27. any kind of bunnies, giant african snail, puffins, panda bears, ducks, flamingos, frogs, and dogs.

28. right now i would probably say soap and sweat.

29. funny question, i don’t think i do. i very much value peace.

30. 4!

31. no!!!

32. i love both… so much… black coffee or cappuccino and green tea or chamomile… so lovely…

33. floral, strawberry, vanilla, warm apple, or coco butter.

34. don’t remind me… probably south park during 2010 to 2015.

35. 3rd, 7th, 10th, 16th, and my 23rd and 24th i suppose.

36. frankie foster!

37. ami from hi hi puffy amiyumi, frida suraez from el tigre, raggedy ann from raggedy ann and andy a musical adventure, and maybe lum from urusei yatsura and shantae.

38. i can’t answer this… ohhh ok i’ll try.

1. aguas de marco by elis regina

2. boranda by sergio mendes

3. l’elephant by tom tom club

4. sudden death by quelle chris

5. good days by sza

39. coffee, matcha and birthday batter!

40. my current wishlist is a customized cute stationery set, handheld vacuum, king sized bed set, more skirts, leggings, sweaters and crop tops, lotions, oils, dress shoes and sneakers, more cute socks and panties and some rugs and movie posters.