#CRANES. construction cranes are favorite

[p0th]

[springcatalyst]

whatever the opposite of the call of the void is thats what happens when im around tall climeable shit. overpasses radio towers tall buildings those things they use to load grain into silos. let me up there

[daisynik7]

cw: fluff, established relationship, suggestive at the end

Author’s Note: this drabble was inspired by my snookums @dprkento because we were talking about building forts together the other day and I thought how cute would it be if we did that for husband!Nanami?! anyways, ily, thank you for always making me feel so special and loved. Divider by @/cafekitsune.

It’s been a stressful week for both you and your husband, more so for Nanami though, who has worked overtime nearly every day since Monday. When Friday finally arrives, you come up with an idea to help the two of you unwind. It’s a bit unconventional, maybe even a little childish, but you have a good feeling that it’s just what he needs. 

Around seven in the evening, you hear the familiar jingle of keys from the other side of the front door. You crawl out from under your creation, chest thumping with excitement, unsure how he’ll react to all of this. Waiting by the entrance, the door swings open to reveal Nanami, eyes tired, shoulders hunched, the aura of an overworked man surrounding him. He shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on the coat rack while he removes his shoes. When he sees you, his expression brightens, a small smile forming on his lips, always happy to be home. You greet him with a warm embrace, wrapping your arms around his torso, squeezing him tight. He nuzzles his nose to the top of your head, inhaling your scent, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Hi.”

You giggle into his chest then peer up at him. “You sound exhausted.”

“I am exhausted,” he admits, bowing down to kiss you on the lips.

“Have I got the perfect surprise for you then,” you say, smirking. 

He stares at you with a brow raised, curious. “Oh no, what now?” You’ve got another trick up your sleeve, keeping him on his toes. And while he pretends to be hesitant at first, he always looks forward to whatever you have in store for him. 

Tugging on his hand, you lead him into the living room, where your masterpiece awaits. “Ta-da!” You hold your arms out, presenting the pillow fort you constructed for him. The base is made of the chairs you dragged all the way from the dining table, concealed by mismatched throw blankets laid out on top of each other to act as the roof. The interior is designed with every pillow you could find lying around the house atop the thickest comforter you have to provide enough cushioning. The finishing touch is your favorite stuffed animal sitting in the corner inviting you in, the same one that Nanami won for you years ago after spending far too much time and money on a crane machine to get it. 

His lips are parted in surprise, inspecting each inch of it carefully. When he doesn’t have any response, you nudge with your elbow. “Well, what do you think?”

He kneels down at the entrance, appreciating the interior, eyes wide with wonder. “You built this? For me?”

“For us,” you correct him, beaming. “I thought we could give up on being adults for a night and relive our childhood.”

He chuckles, crawling inside, his muscular body filling up nearly the entire space. “I never built a fort like this when I was kid. This is a first for me.” Loosening his tie, he rolls over on his back, leaning his head into the pillows, finally relaxed. He waves over to you, beckoning you to join him. 

“Hold on. Let me get the snacks.” You shuffle towards the kitchen counter, gathering all the treats you prepared for tonight: chips, candies, even a box of pizza from one of your go-to restaurants. You dump all the food near the entrance of the fort and shimmy beside your husband, laying the pizza flat on your laps. He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek before grabbing a slice to indulge on. 

When you finish dinner, you set up a laptop on a small standing tray near your feet, snuggling closer to Nanami, who has since removed his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt. From your peripheral, you can tell he’s not paying attention to the movie. Instead, his focus is on you. 

Still facing the screen, you grin. “What?”

He hums, leaning in closer, his mouth hot on your skin, not answering. He places a delicate kiss on your neck, lingering as his hand slides across your thighs, slipping between your legs. “Kento,” you breathe out, turning towards him, capturing his lips with yours. 

“Thank you for this,” he whispers between kisses, sliding his other hand beneath your shirt and up your back, fingers at the clasp of your bra. “I love you.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to undress and christen the pillow fort properly. As Nanami cradles you in his arms, watching you sleep against his chest, he admires the fort one last time before slipping into a peaceful slumber with a smile on his face. 

[blythings]

ARE WE FALLING IN LOVE? SAY YES OR NO | TOM BLYTH

— pairing: tom blyth x filmmaker!oc (fem.)

— summary: it's gotta be more than nothing.

— warnings: allusions to sex but nothing explicit.

— word count: 669

— notes: if you've read an older version of this back when i was part of choices tumblr no u didn't. my inbox is open if you wanna chat!!

← series masterlist | send me an ask →

He revels in the sight of her like this, sprawled across the tousled sheets of his bed, bathed in the soft moonlight that delicately traces lines over her naked form.

She's pretty when she emerges from her bedroom after blitzing through her studies and she's pretty when she's knocking back a shot in a bar during nights out with Mari and the rest of their friends. Yet, Tom is convinced that this particular version of Alexis is his favorite. Everything feels a little warmer, a little gentler, deceptively tender in a way that should alarm him.

"You're staring," she accuses, though her eyes are still closed. With a leisurely stretch, she raises her arms over her head, and he can't help but chuckle. Were he less informed, he might think Alexis is oblivious to the effect she has on him. But, a ghost of a smirk plays on her lips, confirming what he already knows — Alexis Nakamura is a force, effortlessly dismantling the invisible walls he's constructed around himself. It feels as though his world has tilted on its axis, standing and falling simultaneously.

"How could I not?" he responds. Pressing her body closer, Tom ducks his head, burying his face into the crook of her neck. His hand finds a comfortable spot in the dip of her side, fingertips gliding up and along the grooves of her ribs. "You could ogle at me too. Quid pro quo."

She huffs out a laugh. "Is that a part of this?"

"It could be."

In the unfolding of their interactions, Tom and Alexis find themselves slipping into something neither can define. It begins with stolen glances that linger for a beat too long, drawing them into moments simultaneously familiar and uncharted. They haven't officially labeled what is evolving between them, but the unspoken understanding hints at a magnetic pull neither can resist, signalling the quiet inception of something more than friendship but less than a commitment.

Cuddling after sex is a newfound occurrence born from this arrangement, born without explicit agreement or discussion. It starts by accident. Exhaustion that seeps into their bones, and the craving for the comfort that a warm body brings. Only the faint sound of the city from outside his window can be heard and Tom wonders if this is the most peace he's gotten in months.

"Ali?" He whispers, more to himself than her.

"Yeah?"

Stay. "It's almost 1."

She hums, sitting up. Tom follows suit, arms still wrapped around her waist as he plants soft kisses along the side of her throat. "I should probably go then."

Cuddling after sex has become a routine, but staying over hasn't. Still, there's the urge to draw her closer, to fall asleep enveloped in her warmth and weight. To wake up beside her, to go see mutual friends with her and let rumours swirl — labels aside, relationship status pending, she's with him. But despite his wishes, the words are lodged in his throat.

"Sorry." Alexis grins, slipping out of his hold before he can reel her back in. Almost falling face-first to the floor, her legs refuse to cooperate, aching. Tom suppresses a smirk. "I have class at 8."

"Don't apologise." He clears his throat, watching as she gathers her scattered clothes. "You're probably the worse person to share a bed with."

"Wouldn't you like to know," she laughs, pulling on her jeans and buttoning up her shirt. Once fully dressed, she leans in, her nose brushing against his before a lingering kiss lands on his lips. "Goodnight."

"Do you need me to walk you to the door, darling?"

"Nah, I'm a big girl." Alexis replies as she heads to the door. Mid-stride, she cranes her neck. Over her shoulder, she says, "Don't miss me too much, Blyth."

The front door shuts behind her, leaving Tom's bed feeling infinitely colder. The room echoes with the absence of her presence, and as he lies there, he contemplates the space she left behind, a lingering warmth that fades too quickly.

[luwritesomething]

HEY I KNOW YOUR WORKING IN MY OTHER REQUEST RN BUT HEADCANNONS ON WHAT DATING RANDY WOULD LOOK LIKE KINDA LIKE AN EXTENSION ON THE CUDDLING HEADCANNONS YOU JUST DID 🤩🤩🤩🤩

Randy Meeks Heacanons: Dating Randy would include.

Warnings: Swearing lol, probably typos or bad constructed english

Edited?: Like always, no.

Reader's pronouns: Not stated, gender neautral.

Summary: Dating Randy headcanons!!

Author's note: RANDYYYYYYYYYYYY not enough works for him, so i gotta keep up with his requests. also kudos to alex for requesting constantly with great ideas :) i had so much fun making these.

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, mickey altieri, kirby reid, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko and laura crane.

a lot of forehead kisses

cheek kisses too

he just looks like the type. he's gotta go to class? have a cheek kiss. you're meeting up? cheek kiss. you made him laugh? cheek kiss. going to sleep? cheek kiss. whatever, cheek kiss.

him being rather shy at the beginning of your relationship, but growing bolder as the time passes.

holding hands!!!! he loves holding hands. he actually blushed the first time you guys held hands, he's that cute.

getting along with his little sister martha!!! even teaming up against him with her lmao.

lots of dates, and a lot around getting food/eating/cooking/going to restaurants.

but i'm also not gonna lie, movies and dates are a big deal.

movie marathons! movie nights! going to the theater!

cuddling with randy (headcanons here)

you better not like guilty pleasure movies too much because if he has to cinematically roast you HE WILL.

learning a lot about movies and cinematography because he doesn't shut the fuck up.

but it's not like you want him to shut up like, ever.

competing to see who can insult people more 'culturally'

(like homo-repressed mama's boy, creepy tarantino film student, leatherface, pussy ass-wet-rag)

he likes dancing with you and will do so with absolutely every excuse he can think of.

the kind to get drunk, flirt with you and get really sad when you tell him you have a very loving boyfriend (he doesn't realize that's him)

really sweet

if he ever meets your parents, he'll most probably win them over. he's still walking on eggshells around them.

compliments you/what you're wearing every single day.

even if it's just your socks, he always says something nice to you.

he's so greatful to have you.

the type to walk out of arguments when things get heated, before any of you can say anything you'd regret.

he adores you, he could listen to every single thing you say for the rest of his life.

randy doesn't care if you're just talking about your favorite type of pen, he'll listen like you're trusting him with the secrets of the universe.

he remembers a lot of little details because of this.

call him 'pretty boy' and he'll be yours forever.

not a cheater :) (THE BARE MINIMUM---)

he rarely ever lies to you. he'd let you go down to the basement with him in a horror movie, and that's a shit lot of trust.

quotes different romantic dialogues from different movies, but it's always at the most unexpected/worst timing.

he's so goofy i love him.

always making sure you're okay, no matter where you at. it doesn't have to be a frat party for him to worry about your well-being

randy walks you everywhere, no matter how impractical that can be.

especially at night. he doesn't want you to go out alone when it's dark.

overall, he's a really good boyfriend, although i'm not getting involved with the angsty stuff.

[enigmatist17]

I've got you Anon <3

If anyone else would like to ask me anything, go for it!

------

Their latest campaign has been a disaster, and Plo Koon does his best to locate the bodies of his men among the debris.

He only manages to find about ten of them, and he hopes the Force takes the lost children he cannot find into its embrace.

The ride back to The Triumphant is a somber one, and after a general debriefing, Plo Koon just seems to vanish before anyone notices. It's not often he uses his Jetti powers on them, so the alarm bells are already ringing among the bridge crew. Plo Koon's quarters are not where a traditional Jetti's is located, the man having moved to the lower decks to be able to be a few floors above his men's barracks. He enjoyed meditating and feeling the ebb and flow of his children in the Force, and they enjoyed having their buir close by.

This made it quite easy for a few worried troopers to go check in on the Jetti, led by Comet who bypassed the lock with ease.

"I do not believe I've called anyone." Plo Koon is hovering in the air, meditating in front of his window bathed with the glow of hyperspace. He may be no Jetti, but Comet knows when someone is trying to put on the illusion of keeping busy, so he steps inside without hesitation.

"No offense general, but you did." The commander didn't flinch when the master craned his head towards him and knelt down beside the other. There's a moment before Plo sets himself on the floor, and the other troopers who had been standing at the door slowly file inside.

"Did you need backup?" He feels someone kneel behind him, and another trooper sits by his other side.

"Yes."

"I see."

Plo can feel the concern and worry from his children all but being shouted into the Force, and his already aching heart feels worse.

"You've said we can come to you for anything buir..." The trooper behind him starts, and after a moment, continues. "We want to return the favor, like you have so many times before. No one should mourn alone."

"...it gets harder every time you fall." The way Plo's shoulders slump made the troopers spike with worry, and Comet takes the action to hug the Jetti to his side.

"Go, get a space ready." The commander glances over his shoulder, and the troopers were up and gone before Plo could even blink. He really should say something, but leaning against Comet with his constant thrum of safety concern love is just so comforting, he can't possibly move, can he?

Eventually, his door opens, and so many of his children seem to flood his room. They've got a few mattresses, pillows, and blankets that Plo had brought on board, and as one they move his furniture to the hallway temporarily to have more floor space. Soon the nest is complete, and Plo gets to his feet to inspect the construct.

"You all amaze me every day."

"We can say that same." Wolffe said as he entered, still not pleased with Plo running from them instead of confiding, but not surprised. He's holding a mug of something, and watches as Plo sits in the middle of the cushion pile in his meditation pose.

No one was sure who would move first, but to no one's surprise, it was Wolffe. The officer is able to slip out of his boots easily enough, offering Plo the cup in his hand as he props himself up with a pillow. It's his favorite tea, and the Jedi sips slowly as slowly, more men join the commander. The Jedi watches those who can't wait just sit around, chatting softly about random things while pouring support and love into the Force, as if they'd been trained like any other Padawan. He's not sure when he leans back against Wolffe, nor when another one of his children hugs his other side, but the Jedi opens himself to the Force.

It does feel better to mourn with those who understand, and for once draw some strength so as not to lose himself in the pain.

Plo Koon doesn't have nightmares, the love from his children driving them far away.

[maculategiraffe]

one thing that is so interesting to me about the baby is that reinterpreting things through the lens of his interests really makes a difference for him, even if they're actually the exact same things. for example even though he likes vegetable soup, sometimes when he's in the middle of playing if you say "you want to come eat soup?" he's like "no" because he doesn't want to stop playing. but one of his favorite interests is the "construction site" series of books (good night good night construction site, mighty mighty construction site, construction site on christmas night) and his little toy diggers and bulldozers and cranes and so on. so my sister started saying "do you want to eat some cement? (potatoes) and drainage pipes? (green beans) and wrecking balls? (green peas) and orange bricks? (carrots)" and the baby is always like DZYEAH because he really does like the soup but also this makes it part of the game and not something you have to stop playing to do. and earlier when my sister went to put a bib on him he was like "no bib!!!" but my sister was like "no, this is the cement truck blanket!" and he got this look like "hmm. well ok then" and let her put it on him.

it's like how recontextualizing cleaning and organizing as something I get to do to rediscover and further appreciate my nice things, instead of a horrible boring chore I have to do or else I'm bad and lazy and shameful, has made such a huge difference for me. even though it's the same exact chore. but now I can do it

[pseudophan]

i love gta my favorite pastime is taking the ramp car out and just running people down on the highway bc when you get going and just drive into oncoming traffic you can flip semis like 1000 feet into the air. fr best game

real as hell i like climbing up the crane at the construction site and firing rockets down at the cars

[cleolinda]

Weekend links, May 12, 2024

My posts

Your head is hurting and your wifi is out because the biggest solar flare/geomagnetic storm in 20 years hit this weekend. I didn’t actually get to see the aurora borealis, but apparently it really did come down as far as Alabama. 

I admit that this was an extremely glib reply. But like, Athena specifically doesn’t like people claiming they’re better than her, so you can imagine the carnage when you throw in two more goddesses as well.  

(I feel like that post happened a month ago. This week has felt so ungodly long.)

Reblogs of interest

Hot Vintage Lady Bracket: Round 6. Eight polls. Poll Mod immediately chose violence and put Marilyn Monroe against Hedy Lamarr. Since Ava Gardner is out (actual shockers: Greta Garbo and Rita Hayworth are also gone), I was going to say “I’m just Chaos Elmo Flames Dot Gif about it all” but now I’m just scared. 

(Why would you ask us, a hot vintage poll blog, this)

Dracula Daily is in full swing again, and you can eat along!

The Met Gala was honestly decent this year! I reblogged only (some of) the ones I liked, including some of the construction details and a lot of Zendaya, although my favorite might have been Rebecca Ferguson with the crows. 

A while back and not what he wore to the Gala, but: Lil Nas X looking beautiful in a rose garden.

Hozier Watch 2024: I really thought there wasn’t going to be anything else and then he was like, “Oh I should probably put out a video for my accidental international #1.” I am entirely disgruntled that he was here last weekend and I couldn’t go. 

From the top of the week, Drake vs. Kendrick Lamar: An explainer. Also, Kendrick recs.

MrBeast is living in a joyless hell of his own making, and I at least understand now why he has always freaked me out. 

So anyway noted plagiarist James Somerton is alive and well on Twitter, where he’s... well, he sure is there. The words “hole posting” are involved. Another explainer for you. 

Lynda Carter proves she’s on Tumblr

We put our faith in BLAST HARDCHEESE

Peace and love on planet Earth and also in the Uber

“thinking about middle aged gay love is like. we have a future and we have time”

While there are merits to this concern, “Writers should all clown on Americans by making up places in THEIR country” doesn’t really sting when we’re all like “Yeah we love doing that!!!” I personally give you all permission to make up as many wackadoodle state names as you want. You can have West Mainolina for free. 

Meanwhile in Alabama: Bad, bad Leroy Brown, the baddest fish in the whole damn town

RIP Walnut the crane: “The Bride”

Dinosaurs are terrible lizards

Teaching consent is a many-faceted thing

Become ungovernable: grill edition

Video

Galadriel’s opening Fellowship of the Ring monologue, but it’s the Deep South (U.S.). “Across the county line in Mordor, the Dark Lord Sauron made his self another ring outta everything mean the devil put in him.” Absolutely pitch perfect. 

Also pitch perfect: Wellness influencers with terrible advice

“Mooom, the chocolate alchemist has an accomplice now!”

I will always reblog cheetah sounds

The Collage Atlas: a hand-drawn game on Steam

The sacred texts

South Canada. South South Canada. Canada A Bit to the Left

I think I’ve listed this compilation of parody lyrics (”I’m sorry Ms. Jackson/I am four eels”) before, but there’s more now

“Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue”

Personal tags of the week

Scrungly and, as a related topic, Belphegor the Devon rex kitten.

[prettybillycore]

Asks / Requests: Open!

Masterlist: Here

Requesting Rules: [ under construction ]

DMs: Open to Mutuals (16+)

DNI: Billy Hargrove Antis, under 16s for general blog content / under 18s on M-rated fanfic posts, Jarpad Stans, if you are pro-ana / post thinspo

Name: most people call me lilli or cas or lip these days. I’m really not picky.

Age: 24 as of January 2025

Basic About Me: biromantic, grayace, nonbinary. I have two masters degrees; one in creative writing, the other in clinical mental health counseling. currently engaged to @kingofthewildthings414.

Pronouns: They/She/He

Mental Health: I am greatly involved in the world of mental health care, but I have also been diagnosed with several mental health issues myself. if you stumble upon my other blogs you’ll see that, but just know— sometimes I talk about mental health here! Please skip those posts if you aren’t in the place to read it.

Blog Content: hell my interests are so all over the place. I’m just gonna list the shit you will see here. Shadow Hunters, Stranger Things, Peaky Blinders, Batman Trilogy, Marvel, Star Wars, Phan, Markiplier, Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel, Shameless, Doctor Who, House of the Dragon, Sherlock BBC, Supernatural, Criminal Minds, Dimension 20, Percy Jackson, Out of Canon Harry Potter Content, Criminal Minds, Haikyuu, Soul Eater and so on….

Main Fanfic Content: Harringrove, Destiel, Billy Hargrove x Reader, Steve Harrington x Reader, Steddie, Polycules, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Bucky Barnes, Mungrove, Peaky Blinders, Thomas Shelby x Reader, Thomas Shelby x Original Character, Shameless, Lip Gallagher x Reader, Jonathan Crane x Reader, Supernatural, House of the Dragon, Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Original Character, Hunger Games AU, Finnick Odair x Original Character, Spencer Reid x Reader

love,

your least favorite fanfic writer & dm 🤍

[vexx-ation]

365 Albums in 365 Days: 176/365

Date: Tuesday June 25th Album: Fool in her wedding gown Artist: Crane Wives Released: 2012 Genre: Folk Review: Indie Folk you will always be famous to me. Calling to mind a snowed-in cabin and the dark, melancholy vibes of a winters forest, this has some dark and infectiously soulful instrumentals and lyrics. The vocals echo with a fierce, almost indignant kind of power, aching with raw sentimentality atop a bed of carefully constructed strings and percussion. There are some real winners on this album, and every one of their songs has a hard to place but crystal clear vibe that you’ll either hate or absolutely adore. I could listen to this thing all day. Favorite Track: Tongues and Teeth

[cloudtastrophie]

A little headcannon tidbit based off of chapter 2 of @canarydarity 's ranchers baseball au <3

-----

St. Louis felt infinitely like home. Or, as close to home as Jimmy could get. Coming into the city from the Illinois side of the river made him sick to smell the air of his childhood backyard. To taste the dirt in his mouth as he, once again, lost against Grian at the diamonds. St. Louis was 10 times smaller than grand old New York, New York, but it was 10 times more welcoming. The drivers were calmer, the streets less full, the culture more laid back. It was a lazy city, sticky and slow like molasses in the early summer midwestern heat. 

As the team bus rattled its way across the Eads Bridge, Jimmy felt Joel smack his arm, breaking his gaze away from the lazy flow of the Mississippi. “What in the bloody hell are they building?” Joel muttered, half standing to see over Tango’s shoulders across the isle. Tango looked as if he was about to burst out of the window, he was pressed so hard to the glass. He swiveled his head to look at Jimmy and Joel. 

“You two haven’t heard? It’s been in every paper for weeks!” He was practically vibrating with excitement. 

Jimmy shook his head and stood up taller to see what the fuss was about. By then, the whole team was ‘ooh and ahhing’ at the absolutely massive structure being built, right on the banks of the river. 

“It’s going to be called the Gateway Arch. It’s probably going to be the biggest feat of engineering since the Empire State. Probably better than the Needle out in Seattle is going to be.” Jimmy raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his lips. Since when did Tango have a special interest in engineering?

“I did a few months in an engineering class. Got me hooked, but numbers are easier to understand.” Tango explained, as if he had read Jimmy’s mind. Then he turned back around and continued to peer at the stories-tall cranes slowly moving into place, and the two wide, square beginnings of what would apparently become a feat of engineering. Jimmy didn’t really see the draw, but he leaned across Joel and the isle to Tango anyways.

“We should come back to see it once it’s finished.” Jimmy said, watching the construction site fade behind them. The Cardnial’s stadium appeared behind the looming Old Courthouse. 

“I agree!” Tango replied, beaming. Jimmy didn’t care if he was 100 by the time the Arch was finished. He’d come back and see it with Tango when it was done.

------

hi worm i know you're reading this,,,ok I haven't had the energy (or time) to do any art for the baseball au but the brainrot has been stuck with me for DAYS. so I decided to write a little tidbit of how I imagined the ride into St. Louis for that game against the Cardnials. I have a lot of love for the city I grew up around so I really wanted to do something for it for you :) And if you're interested, here's some of the history I incorparated to make it feel more historically accurate! (i'm a cloested history buff, can you tell)

the st louis gateway arch began construction in 1963 technically, but I'm like 90% sure that there was soo much prep work done on the site before the actual construction, as there is a basement underneath it, and a huge walkway/viewing platform area, as well as the whole thing with the levee right on the Mississippi. I wanted to sort of figure out what that would look like in 1961 when the plans were being laid out. Also, the Arch is a certified national park, it's professional name being "St. Louis Gateway Arch National Park"

The Old Courthouse. UGH its one of my favorite buildings I've ever seen actually. Its so beautiful, and you can, from the road I'm writing them on, see Busch staduim looming behind it. The Courthouse also actually held the first two trials of the Dred Scott case, if you're into that kind of stuff.

The Eads Bridge. Also one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. It is the oldest bridge on the Mississippi and was constructed under the care of Andrew Carnagie. That bad boy is made out of actual authentic Carnagie steel. Sooo history rich. Pretty sure they actually held a parade with elephants once it was done. so that's cool

Oh, and Busch stadium. It wasn't called that way back when! And it looked much, much different than it does now. I'm honestly not sure what it was called in the 60's, but I'm sure most people called it Cardnial's stadium. It was a beautiful and massive stadium back then, and it still is now.

the seattle neetle was being constructed around the same time as the arch as well, which is why i had Tango say something about it LOL

And for funsies, here's a scorecard that I'm sure Tango would've recieved in 1961 from the stadium.

hope you enjoyed my little rant!! And if you made it to the bottom of this and you're not worm, I hope you enjoyed learning a little about st. louis today. :)

[whateveryouiguess]

four letter word.

Miguel O’ Hara x Reader, 1k+ words

Warnings: None i don’t think, mentions of Miguel’s comic origin along w his movie lore, she/her pronouns r used in this one, mostly sentimental ramblings abt everyone’s favorite problematic bb girl, improper punctuation and capitalization bc i’m a poet and i simply cant be bothered LMAOOO. lmk whatcha think :)

last night, miguel told her he hated her.

at least, that’s how he heard it. with her hand in his hair and his head nestled between the ridges of her collarbone and the crook of her neck, his eyes closed as every bit of the days worries seemed to float away, just as they always did when he was in her arms. craning his neck up to see the edge of her face backlit by the lamp light, the gentle contours of her face illuminated like a Rembrandt painting. the crest of dawn was creeping, seeping through the cracks in the windowsill, the green blue sky still freckled with stars as the world stay asleep. universes laid to rest in their cozy beds, minds at ease, all shrouded in blankets and carpeted by dreams: all but him. he never slept very much anyway; if there wasn’t a pressing mission keeping him awake, it was the ghosts that waited for him behind his eyes.

the compilation of all his hardest, worst moments, playing on a loop in the empty theatre of his hippocampus. the icy sensation of a rapture high, the white hot pain of withdrawal. the strands of spider dna that launched a foot race through him as he injected himself with nothing but a hope and a prayer. the stretching of his jaw, the razor sharp fangs that grew onto his incisors, the indicators that he would forever be other. though the coercive whispers of his addiction had grown quiet, the blood curdling screams of his wife and child still echoed through him, day by day, night by night, every hour on the hour. it was years before he could look at happy families without the urge to scratch at his leg with one of his talons. that should’ve been us. that would’ve been us if I hadn’t fucked it up so badly. he’d learned to let the ghosts just float by, a technique begrudgingly introduced into his life once it was recommended by jess, practically his therapist (and a mind reader, as he hadn’t once asked for her help). part of him—a stupid, naive, part—hoped that they would never truly go away. in his mind, in the absence of them, it was as though their screams were close enough to their laughter that he could pretend he still heard them, that when he rose from his bedroom each morning, he would still find them laughing and carrying on as they made sunday breakfast, or that when he woke up to an empty house, there they would be, playing in the soil and pruning the rose bushes out back, but at the end of the day, he knew they wouldn’t be. there was no stove for them to warm tortillas on for breakfast tacos. and there was no garden of roses to prune on the cold, lawn-less patio of his high rise apartment. it was just him and his grief.

but miguel didn’t believe in that “five stages” bullshit. just another myth of psychology constructed by scientists to put the suffering at ease, he thought. to give them a timeline of their hurting, to provide them not with a date or location of when, but a clear indicator that the dust of hurting would one day settle, and that the war inside their head would one day be over. he thought they’d figured that was a good enough bandage for the gash of death. but no one talks about the scar that comes once that gash is healed. no one talks about the ripping of the stitches, or the blinding pain that follows when the wounds reopen and clot and scab over and over and over again, never quite sealing shut. miguel knew in his head that he would never heal, and part of him was grateful. if he never healed, he never had to let them go. THAT was why he hated her.

he hated her because the very second he first saw her, he could hear the bells. she smiled at no one and nothing in particular, and his national anthem blared on speakers through the streets, the song he hadn’t heard since the day he lost the first loves of his life. she said hello, and flags were raised once again, she waved goodbye and the city streets, littered in bombshells and empty magazines swept themselves clean, a cold rain poured down from the sky and civilians left their homes for the first time in days to watch the downpour, to dance in it. war was over, whether he liked it or not.

and now, with his head on her chest and her heartbeat in his ear, the ghosts have found their final resting place and kissed his cheeks goodbye, one last time. and though he never loses sight of them, they don’t scream his name from the rubble anymore. they whisper to him, egging him on, encouraging him on days when he can’t find the strength in himself to keep going. the specters are like saints to him now, a crutch to lean on when he wants her so badly it makes him miss them. he kneels at their gravestone and weeps, just for them to rest on his shoulder and sigh. and they forgive him. they let him go. free him into the expanses of the wild with the knowledge that he’s ready to survive on his own, and they cheer jubilantly when he runs straight to her, as if there were anywhere else for him to go.

miguel hates her. he hates the way her laughter makes his stomach bubble, he detests the sweet, potent smell of the still-steamy bathroom as she exits the shower (he also hates the little messages she leaves for him in the fogged up mirror—finger traced transmissions reading “hi, handsome!” and “we’re out of toilet paper <3”). and he hates, most of all, that she doesn’t have to try. she never once forced him to open up to her, starting the game and waiting till he was comfortable enough to lay out his cards. he was guarded as all get out before he met her, but he broke down brick walls to let her in, not because she asked him to, or even because she said she requested entry. because he knew it was time to open. it was time for the eastern and western regions of himself to meet and rejoice once again, to end the era of his solitude and self pity, and to allow the soft smiles and crows feet to return to his face again.

he hates how easy it was to fall apart in her arms, and how easily she puts him back to together. he hates how she never needed him, but wanted him more than anything, he hates how she made an effort for him, because no one else ever had, and he hates most of all that there isn’t a single fiber of his being that could ever, in any fraction of the multiverse, bring the whole of him to truly and earnestly detest her. he hates her because he doesn’t hate her. not one bit at all.

so, in the present moment, when he cranes his neck up to see her, eyes only half open in the wee, small, hours of the morning, he traces a hand down her jaw and rests his palm behind her ear and strokes his thumb across her cheek. the sleepy smile that pulls from her entraps him, the feeling of her nails scratching at the nape off his entombs him, he knows he is royally and utterly screwed, tortured by the mere experience of her. so he licks his cracked lips and elects to give her a piece of his mind.

but when he opens his mouth to tell her how much he hates her, hate doesn’t end up being the four letter word he uses.

.

ty for reading <3 if ya have any requests send em my way and maybe i’ll do em who knows. take it easy :)

[nullregret034]

ASH'S SHEET!!!

Name: ASH!!!

Alt Names: Zachary Crane. (i dunno who that is :( )

Special Titles: [REDCATED], Weaver of Good Dreams, Intern!!!

Username: Memoriesofarchalia

Nicknames: Ashy, Ashgaze, Ashyln, Two-Faced Bitch ( :( )

Chronological Age: ? ? ?

Age: 26

Pronouns: He/Him?

Sexuality: Pansexual

Gender: Male!!! I think?

Species: Human! :D (Demon. Sloth/Fraud Hybrid.)

Disorders: NONE!!! (Autism, Pathological Lying, NPD, C-PTSD, Maladaptive Daydreaming)

Physical Disabilities: Malnourished.

Active Addictions: NONE!!! (Surprisingly enough, true.)

Religion: I just play along with whatever gods domain I'm in at the moment! :)

Job: Toymaker! I do Have a job at a pizza place too tho!!!

Degree: I never got a degree :(. Theater And Performance Study. (Doctorate)

Lives in: MY DREAMSCAPE!!! (Alternatively, a small apartment.)

Languages: English, German, French!!! (Knows most Occultic Languages as well.)

Height: 5'1... :(

Accent: A soft, somewhat childish-sounding voice.

Monster Form: [REDACTED]

Powers: :D

Weaknesses: :D

Strings Form: i doooont have the strinnnngs..... i would never have the strings, whhhhy would I have the striiinnnngs...

Soul: A white flame!!! :)

Alignment: Neutral Good!!! (Neutral Evil.)

Text Color: Blue!!!

Main Animal: Anglerfish! :)

Main Hobbies: Knitting, Dreamweaving, Construction, socializing, Interior Design, Cooking, Acting

Favorite Food: I liiiiiiiike PIzzzzza and I like Sweeeeets and I like cannnndy and I like Chiiiiicken and I like other stuff!

Favorite Flower: Roses! :)

Scent: Vanilla! :)

Handedness: Right!

Blood Color: Red!

Awareness: wats an awareness.

Birthday: April 19th! Theme:

Playlist:

Fun Facts: Ash had actually written a play of his own! Its Manuscript was stolen though before it could ever be published.

Special Interests: i liiiiiike old videogames and I liiiiike noir movies and i liiike build a bears and I liiiike toys and i like webcore stuff!

Stims: Bouncing his leg up and down!

Comfort Objects: An old Teddy Bear.

Family: The Cranes (...)

Friends: Mischa!!! (Hes the best!!! :D)

I HAVE LOTS OF FRIENDS!!!!!

Romance: Noooooone ;) (He has his eyes on someone.)

Enemies: ...None!

Reincarnations: Two.

Brief Personality: [REDACTED]

Brief Backstory: [REDACTED]

[canyonkingdom]

opinion on the side characters

the RCP side characters are rarely talked about, but i'm here to give my opinion about them bc lol whynot

cleany - he's one of my favorite characters; i kinda relate to him because for someone my age, i like cleaning shi alot and itch when something is not shined to the brim

posty - as much as i hate to say it, i really like posty; even if he's a narcissistic asshole, maybe it's his relationship with cleany, maybe not

spooky - idk what to say about him really, he's kinda funny but overall he's ok

cap - i REALLY dislike him; he's funny, sure, but i just have an ick about him huhu; he's an asshole in many episodes, but i can sugarcoat that

the construction crew - i won't specify them one by one bc this list will be long as hell, but bruner is an annoying shit, he's a decent enough person but he's just getting on my nerves lol, dump and max i've got nothing to say they're ok, poke is the best out of them despite being mute, mickey makes me want to kill myself with his voice, but i actually like him as a character because he's kinda funny ig

schoolb - he's a wry bus and i like him but if you humanized him it would be kinda creepy since he's dealing with kids

the kids - mini, rody and benny are children so i can understand their pretty stupid actions, but benny be less of an asshole and i will like their trio

no i'm not ranking the cranes pls

anyways there's other side characters too but i'm only sitcking with the ones that are focused on the most bc i have more ground to get an opinion out of

so yeah i hope you guys like it