#Liquor Store From Mars

[bawlbrayker]

I was tagged by @wehangout, and this one looks pretty cool to explore! She was tagged over a year ago, so it would be fun to see this one spread around again!

rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions.

Mickey's heart is pounding. He's been standing on an empty dock for the last half hour, smoking too many cigarettes, pacing back and forth, trying to not breathe in the smell of stagnant pools of water filled with engine oil, ignoring the trains passing overhead. - Did I Wish You Here In Front Of Me

Mickey steps inside the tub, hot water flowing from his fucking West Side apartment shower like he has never experienced before, from either the shitty Milkovich house of horrors bathroom, or the cramped Gallagher bathroom that never had enough hot water, and almost zero water pressure. - It's Time to Come Clean

"Get the lube, bitch." Mickey says, tongue out in excitement, as he unbuckles his belt and drops his fly. - Just What You Feelin

Still wet from the shower, Ian attempts to put Mickey in a headlock as they fall laughing onto the bed, Mickey getting an elbow into Ian's ribs, slightly harder than the situation required. What A Man Gotta Do

A ray of sunlight ripples across his pillow and as soon as Mickey opens his eyes into wakefulness, he tries desperately to hold onto his dream, already fading so quickly and leaving him only with random flashes of red and green in his inner gaze.   One Hundred and Forty Seven Steps

Juggling a box of Fruit Rounds and a box of Froot Loops, trying to decide if getting the cheaper version will justify buying an extra box of snacks, Ian feels a tingling up his spine, and inexplicably his dick twitches in his boxers. The Divining Rod

“So, Big Boy… do you come here often?” Mickey asks, hoping his husband would jump straight into the roleplay. Apparently catching on, the redhead below him grips his hips tightly. “Actually, this is my first time here. I didn't think I’d pick up a hot guy in a bar and go home with him the first night I arrived.” C.O.C.O.N.U.T

“Ugh, it’s the middle of the day, man.” Mickey groused, as he rubbed his eyes and squinted at the ground, trying to avoid looking up at the bright sky. Save a Horse, Ride a Gallagher

It’s a Friday afternoon, the day before their fifth wedding anniversary. Ian and Mickey are standing in the middle of the liquor store, quibbling over which vodka to buy, with Mickey throwing in gentle jabs about Ian’s low tolerance for alcohol. A Slice of Life

Conclusion: I definitely have a preference for writing in present tense! I'm working on it though. I also seem to lead with canon dialogue where I can. I also love to start everything with Mickey.

Gonna tag a bunch of you because this was from ages ago so you can either do it again or do it with new fics! No pressure, of course! Play along if you wish! This was fun!

@jrooc @blue-disco-lights @em-harlsnow @roryonic @spookygingerr

@spacerockwriting @rayrayor @depressedstressedlemonzest @deathclassic @starry-nights-17

@southsidestory @ian-galagher @ms-moonlight-inn @biblionerd07 @mrs-monaghan

@sweetperversiongirl @crestfallercanyon @gallavichgeek @ifallonblackdays @solitarycreaturesthey

@mytangledmind @sgtmickeyslaughter @mybrainismelted @goodkwuestion @lingy910y

@tsuga-of-mars @spoonfulstar @scurvgirl @honeyvanillin @darlingian

@ryantryinx @sweetbee78 @gallabitch73 @twinklyylights @too-schoolforcool

[tiredwitchplant]

Everything You Need to Know About Herbs : Ginger (root)

Ginger (Zingiber officinale)

*Kitchen Herb *Medical Herb *Masculine

Folks Names: African Ginger, Sheng Jian, Singabera

Planet: Mars

Element: Fire

Deities: Hecate, Ameretat, Artemis

Abilities: Love, Money. Success, Power, Safety

Characteristics: A perennial plant growing to 2 ft with lance-shaped leaves and spikes of white or yellow flowers. Is native to Asia and is grown throughout the tropics. Ginger prefers fertile soil and plenty of rain.

History: Wild or cultivated, ginger root is an ideal herb to add to rituals and spells because it acts like a booster for the power involved. Apart from its use as a spice and as a base for alcoholic liquors of one kind or another, ginger has for a very long time enjoyed a reputation for medicinal use, from the prescription of Arabian and Persian doctors for impotence, to its still popular reputation as a stomach settler, and this use dates from the earliest records. Ginger tea, even ginger biscuits, help to combat travel sickness, or morning sickness and nausea generally. It was used for asthma in Russian folk medicine. The recipe given is a pound of ginger grated, put in a quart bottle, which was filled with alcohol. This was kept warm for two weeks, shaken occasionally, until the infusion was the color of weak tea. This was strained, and the sediment allowed to settle. Then the liquid was poured into another bottle, and the infusion taken twice a day.

How to Grow:

Easy to Grow: Yes

Rating: Beginner Friendly

Seeds Accessible: Sort of but root is

How to Grow Ginger (article)

How to Grow from Seeds

How to Grow from Store Bought

Where to Buy Seeds

Magical Properties:

Can boost the power of spells and rituals with its own heat like energy when consumed beforehand

Used to jump-start love, stimulate finances, and increase potential success in anything

In an elixir, the root acts as an energizing tonic and brings strength, courage, and health

Putting ginger in your pillow can create a better night’s sleep

Can give protection during childbirth

Whole ginger roots planted and grown can attract money, along with sprinkling powdered ginger into one’s pocket

Dobu islanders with chew and spit ginger at the “seat” of an illness to cure it and to halt oncoming storms

To promote lust, sprinkle ginger around your home

Medical Usage:

Speeds up the rate of gastric emptying and aids the absorption of nutrients from the digestive tract, which helps treat anemia

Relieves nausea and vomiting, especially with morning sickness

Reduces muscle pain after exercise and is effective against menstrual pain

Excellent remedy for indigestion, nausea, gas, bloating, cramps and other digestive complaints

Stimulates circulation and helps with the flow of blood to the surface

Remedy for coughs, colds, flu and other respiratory problems

Stimulates sweating and helps to cool and control fevers

Sources

[revenantlore]

. queer gothic fantasy . ghoulish vampires . a grumpy man with a pet rat and a death wish never to be granted . the literal embodiment of sunshine . polyamory . snarky lesbian badass . necromancy and undead horses . a ghost dog . supernatural drugs .

Plagued by a virus spread from an experiment gone awry, never does a night go by where Ashmourne’s cobblestones and soil are not drenched in human blood.

Bloodthirsty monsters wearing the faces of the virus’s victims run rampant the moment the sun is drawn below the horizon and only death can stop them.

Much too quick and strong for any ordinary adversary to survive against, a small group of both willing and unwilling participants have been scientifically engineered to protect Ashmourne from the very horrors the scientists created.

Without these special few, the townspeople of Ashmourne would have far more to mourn than daylight itself.

. bram valdis .

With no regards to his health or safety, Bram delves straight into harm’s way with the hope of a miracle: an end to his suffering. His past is marred with as many scars as his body, haunting reminders of what he is, who he used to be, and what he can never be again. No more than a laboratory rat, an experiment, a mistake … something far from human.

His compulsions lead to a gruesome collection of blood drawn from the Fangs he has slaughtered, a memento of sorts, stored in vials lining the shelves of his bookcases. Less a symbol of triumph and more a way to calm the obsessive thoughts rattling through his skull. Not a night goes by where he doesn’t count each and every one, often to the familiar tune of insomnia.

A fear of intimacy and loss has left him bitter and alone for much of his life, but he dreams of one day finding a love alike that of the fairy tales that accompany him on these sleepless nights.

. halifax bertram .

After out-aging the dirty halls of Galloway’s Home for Unfortunate Children, Halifax and his younger brother, Pennant, were left to fend for themselves in search of a better, safer life outside the borders of Ashmourne.

Poor, helpless, and more than a little hopeless, their journey was wrought with danger and a quick end.

When Pennant is taken in by Ether as a potential experimental subject, Halifax bargains for his freedom in exchange for Fax’s, unaware of the consequences that await him.

Fax hasn’t spoken to Pennant since.

Not without want, but it is forbidden, if he wants his brother to remain safe.

. pennant bertram .

Painting helps Pennant hold on to hope, distracts him from the grim truth of his existence in the weary village of Ashmourne. When painting fails, there’s the withering garden in the forests beyond Dead End to keep him occupied. He’s determined to bring some life to it—a budding flower or a shock of green amongst the wilting leaves.

Ashmourne is a dark and dismal place, desperate for a spot of brightness, a spark of hope, and so is Pennant.

Not even death will stop him from making it happen.

. zay larosa .

Following in her mother’s and aunt’s footsteps, Zay offers psychic readings at The Dirty Rat for a negotiable price—often she will settle for payment in the form of a drink, and many of her clients would claim the drunken prophet’s readings are always more accurate when of a liquor-addled brain. Others would denounce her credibility as a prophet, usually when things go wrong—or, more accurately, out of spite, when they go just as Zay said they would when seldom is it ever in the client’s favor.

It’s all but a distraction—the booze, the nameless women she beds, the hours and coins wasted away in games of cards and dice, all teetering on a risky bet her prophecies fail to correctly foretell—while a thirst for vengeance gnaws ever-present at her heart.

Her father was slain by a man Zay only knows by appearance alone, an unmistakable scar clawed across his face by her hands alone, and she is determined to find and kill him—all the more reason to snatch a glimpse into the futures of strangers.

. athios forsyth .

Haunted by the memories of a murder he didn’t mean to commit, Athios recedes into a life of isolation to avoid facing the truth behind the event. There are no consequences for the crime, no evidence that it ever happened—not when his victim rose from his grave at the touch of Athios’ own hand—except for the ceaseless guilt.

In the accompaniment of Ambrose, a dog whom is neither here nor there, Athios tends to the graveyards of Ashmourne, both with the intent to maintain a pristine appearance and to experiment with his ability to raise the dead.

His curiosity comes with more consequence than he bargained for when he messes with the restricted graves of Fangs and unleashes a new horror upon Ashmourne.

. zacarias bane .

All hopes of affection were surrendered the day Zacarias discovered himself incapable of touching another person without being thrust into their deepest, darkest memories without mercy.

Yet … Bram and Athios seem to somehow be exceptions to this rule.

The two men become a mystery Zacarias is determined to solve, temptation and desperation fueling his quest for an explanation while he suffers through nights of listening to the ceaseless passion of strangers below his rooming above the local brothel.

[nozoditz]

what your favourite precure season says about you, in no particular order

(or in the order I thought was funny. Please don't take offence to any of the jokes, this is all for fun. I'm making fun of myself too here.)

Max Heart: Whenever the debate starts up about low-combat seasons, no-combat seasons, what counts as low combat, whether you blame broadcast standards and practices, whether certain seasons should even be counted in the franchise, it's always you.

Heartcatch: You used to be new blood. You wore the new-blood badge proudly. Now you're old guard, and you're taking this about as well as you take the cashier at the liquor board store not carding you anymore.

Fresh: Every other redemption arc in the franchise is under a microscope with you people. Whether it was emotional enough. Whether they were sad enough. Whether they were too evil to deserve it or not evil enough to warrant it. Whether they're gay enough with the MC. We get it, you already have the gold standard in front of you!

Mahoutsukai/Mahou Girls/Witchy: You know how people used to turn up their noses at Precure and call it "the magical girl show for yuri fans"? You took that as a recommendation.

Otona/Full Bloom: You people deserve a war medal for how much shipping discourse you have to deal with every day out there. And a drink. [smash cut to the second Otona collab cafe being the first official Precure event with a liquor licence] Well, you got one of those things.

Doki Doki: You either go all in on the "stealth yuri harem show" thing or you have very strong opinions on which specific girl Mana should be with and how much better that girl deserved in general from the writers.

Tropical-Rouge: Memelord. You have watched Monopoly Mermaid Monday every week for years. You have put low-poly images of Kururun in every possible situation. You have substituted Asuka into every meme about characters from other shows being some kid's lesbian awakening. The animation errors are in your blood.

Star Twinkle: You have Opinions about all the times that the plot, setting, characters, merch, and screentime levels pivoted to try and drum up toy sales. I feel for you poor souls. On a meta level, this is the Go-Busters of Precure.

Hirogaru/Soaring Sky: You have a conspiracy board of how Sora/Mashiro is canon and how the staff are clearly suffering and straining to show it without the censors getting on their case. Possibly a literal conspiracy board on the actual wall of your home.

Go! Princess: I have never seen the reverse of "they're not gay, it's just admiration" as strongly as I have with you. You guys have just-friends goggles for Haruka/Kanata welded onto your face so she can end up with whichever other girl(s) you prefer instead. Live your best life.

Futari wa: You are a nostalgia fiend, the world's strongest Nagihono shipper, suffered in that 2010s wave of people complaining about Nagisa being a pessimistic whiner when her developing through that was half the point of the show, and still probably call Hikari useless and/or a third wheel. The first three points are valid, but get over the last one.

Smile: You will not watch anything that is 13 episodes or shorter. To you, people calling for the end of filler are calling for the end of character development, breathing room, and likeable characters and stories. Also you just love how silly it got.

5GoGo: This is basically the same as Smile but you had to walk uphill both ways in the snow for almost six years.

HappinessCharge: You could give an impassioned speech about how so many people had ideas about what this season should be that they never slowed down to appreciate what it is. But you're too chill for that and you just meme about Mars, wedding chicken, and eye lasers.

Healin' Good: You will never forgive COVID or the Olympics.

Splash Star: You originated the "Girly Dragon Ball" meme. There is no way a Splash Star fan isn't out there trying to evangelize their show to people who dismiss the season, series, and genre. It worked for Princess Tutu, you're convinced it's going to work for you.

Hugtto: You have opinions about the ending. You have opinions about which ships are canon and which ships should have been canon. You have opinions on the timeline. For my own safety, I will not get into a conversation with you about any of them.

Wonderful: I know the character work is great. I know the magical girl genre has evolved and Precure doesn't need to set itself apart from the competition when it's at the top of the heap. I know it's teaching kids important lessons. I just feel like you're a little stressed out and maybe you need a vacation.

Yes: You have spent far too long suffering children accusing you of being problematic and probably heterosexual, when I know you just love the stupid antics these girls get up to when every one of them thinks they're the only sensible person in the room and they are dead wrong.

Suite: You would also like the opportunity to punch your depression until it goes away, and I do not blame you.

Kirakira: Either you came here for Akiyuka or you watched all of Yumeiro Patissiere and probably mainline the Food Network.

Delicious-Party: Do you exist? I have never met someone who said their favourite season was Delicious-Party. Are you all congregating in the Tokusatsu Quarry? I can't generalize about people I'm not sure are even there to make jokes about.

[lilas]

tagged by @lavampira to share five current fav songs, ty beloved! these are all from my “on repeat” playlist:

Blue Sky by Kid Cudi

The Hunger by San Fermin

somewhere between the sand and stardust by Hayley Kiyoko

Liquor Store on Mars by Kelsy Karter and the Heroines (FAV. FAV. FOREVER FAV.)

Slip the Noose by The Maine

weird weird combination of songs BUT they are all amazing and everyone should listen to them my music taste is Impeccable 😤

tagging: @narrativefoiltrope @gwaha @zylphiacrowley @birues @roguelioness @galadae @impossible-rat-babies @veeples @solarisrenbeth @night-triumphantt

[imaginedreamwrite]

Fell in love with actor!Ransom and pregnant!Reader on one of your themed days all over again, so can I get them for todays theme? Ransom is coming back from short trip and Reader decided to do one nice thing to him. A welcome home dinner. When Ransom sees what Reader have done, the vibe is 'Is this how married life suppose to feel? If so, I'm marring her right now!'

“You don’t owe me anything, Ransom. We’re not a couple.” That was what he leaned into when he was away, the freedom of being a single man who could fuck whoever he wanted whenever he wanted.

And then he struck out every-time. Every time he tried to bring someone back to his bed, to have some noncommittal fun, he hadn’t been able to go further beyond getting some head. There was something keeping him back, something that made him rethink sleeping with the models he knew.

It was a resistance that ailed his decision to throw the women out of his bed. And that resistance had caused something in his brain to snap.

He was aggravated. And horny.

His mood turned sour and he took an early leave from a few press junkets, heading back to his apartment to clear his head. Ransom was determined to get to the bottom of his piss poor mood, to determine the cause of why he was such an asshole to everyone after striking out.

And then he stepped inside the house only to be welcomed by the smell of cooking food. He hadn’t been expecting food, he hadn’t expected anything and yet when he wandered further into his house he was greeted by both you at the stove, and food on the table.

“Welcome home!” You greeted him with a smile, one that was warm and beautiful.

You were beautiful, Ransom had realized. He had suddenly been able to see you for all your worth as you stood in his house, wearing some of his clothes, greeting him home.

Home. Not just a place he lived, but home.

“I made cornbread and gambas. The attendant gave me a hell of an odd stare when I went to the liquor store-” ransom dropped his bag and stalked toward you, hands grabbing your hips to steer you out of danger of the hot stove, and then he kissed you deeply.

It made sense. It all fell into place.

He was horny and irritated from the slack of sex, because he wanted you.

He couldn’t sleep with the women he tried to, because he wanted to sleep with you.

All he wanted was you.

And home.

“Ransom-” you pulled away, hands on his chest. “-are you drunk?”

“I’m fucking starved for-” he looked past you toward the cornbread, his stomach grumbling. “-and happy to be home.”

He swore, he vowed on his grandmothers grave, that he was going to marry you.

“Well its almost done. A few minutes.” You tried to turn, only to be caught and kissed again.

“I bought you something.” He mumbled against your lips, feeling entirely out of place in his own mind. “Let me unpack-”

“-and then eat.” You pulled away, turning back to the shove. “It’ll be done soon.”

[addaxus]

ARIZONA SILVER TOWN STAINED CRIMSON FROM BLOODBATH!

SCORES OF DEAD LITTER CITY STREETS!

HELD UP IN GUNSMITH!

SOUTHWEST BOOGEYMAN STRIKES AGAIN!

The gleaming beauty of a booming Arizona mining town has been marred by the permanent scars of horrible bloodshed. For here was the scene of one of the most violent shootouts in state history! A local posse ambushed four members of the Almería Anarchists, a self-proclaimed revolutionary gang. Their recent crimes up to the shootout include selling stolen liquor, horse theft, and arson. According to one popular theory, the gang intended to cause mayhem and panic within the town so they could take the silver for themselves during the chaos.

One member was killed by a rifle shot to the head, setting the remaining three on a brief chase through town. Two members barricaded themselves in a local gunsmith's shop, firing at anyone who approached. Despite all odds, these defiant reprobates remained firm, mowing down everybody in their sights with the store's arsenal of weapons and ammunition. The posse's morale soon broke down, leaving the Sheriff and his three deputies alone. Fortunately, the Sheriff thought he had some leverage by holding the third Anarchist hostage. He had no idea how little the hostage was valued by his fellow outlaws, as one of the duo, a poncho-clad Mexican, shot him in cold blood before murdering the Sheriff and all three deputies. The Mexican and his accomplice then rode away through the very carnage they had wrought.

Further eyewitness accounts confirm that the Mexican was El Ojos Diablos. His bounty has increased by $1250, increasing the amount to $3000. Why do the Almería Anarchists allow such a valuable individual to ride with them? It's plausible that they're trying to keep their numbers up in the face of rising losses.

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Halloween Headcanons 2023: Vampire Lost Boys! Mick Mars Headcanons

A/N: This is a vampire Au but specifically in the Lost Boys universe. It won't mirror the movie's story but instead its dynamics, with the only exeption of Max who is a character from the movie.

-Mick is the oldest one in the band. After living in different cities, he decides to move to Santa Carla in the hopes of finding a decent band before he gets too old.

- A couple of months after moving he gets diagnosed with AS ( Ankylosing Spondylitis) which means his bones are fusing together, leaving him in extreme pain, especially in his back. He starts to work in a liquor store while still searching for a band.

- Years later, after playing with a band, he gets approached by Max in a parking lot. Mick is really wary until the other man explains his offer.

- “ You let me bite you and your disease will be way more manable. No more pain.”

-Mick accepts before he can back down, however things aren’t exactly as easy as Max described them. First of all he had no idea he had to kill someone to fully turn, then feeding is way harder than he imagined especially at first.

- Things get better when Nikki and Tommy find his guitarist ad in the paper. Mick doesn’t expose himself right away which leads to a couple of days where all three are walking on eggshells, focused on both making music and finding food.

- “Wow dude, those shades! What are you a vampire?” “Yeah, kinda.” “Sick! Me and Nikki are too!” “ I can’t believe it could have been so easy this whole time.”

- The vampire ability he is the most skilled in is turning himself into a bat. He can fly the furthest and the most precise, he was the quickest to learn and he will totally use this power to his advantage, for example to run away from anyone.

- Mick loves all the rumors about him being an alien or a supernatural creature. He knows most of the time people are just joking but he even dresses up as Dracula for Halloween, however unlike Nikki and Tommy he is not interested in creating an image for himself.

- Being the first one turned, he had time to study a bit and keeps doing it whenever the band has a break. He wants to be prepared in case anyone tries to take advantage of his weakness, since for a long time he had been sick and  felt helpless.

[the-color-grey]

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse

Pestilence can be found in dirty places.

Usually. On some occasions, he can be found in a busy hospital ER, with doctors and nurses and patients running everywhere, the smell of sickness in the air.

But more often, he'll be seen in dark, swampy forests, flies buzzing around his head like a floating crown. If you come across an old city bridge, it's likely that he's huddled in the muck underneath it, wrapped in an old, ratty blanket, his hair white, and his skin sallow. He feels at home anywhere that nature has reclaimed civilization.

You might brush shoulders with him while walking down a frozen city street. You'd think he'd be cold to the touch, but you'll be surprised to find his skin feverishly warm. He walks around puffing out clouds of smoke, a cigarette that never burns down held between his fingers. His voice is like gravel crunching underneath a car tire.

He is sickness. He is plague.

---

War can be found in lively places.

Anywhere crowded, really. From formal black tie events thrown in mansions full of snobby one-percenters, to grimy rager parties thrown in old warehouses full of angry drunks. She'll be clad in black, her lips colored blood red, perfectly balanced on needle thin stilettos. She is who you will see most often of the four.

You will see her strutting down the street and call her Devil. She will laugh. The Devil is a rumor she made up ages ago.

Her hair hangs to her waist in red braids. Her coppery skin is sometimes perfect, and sometimes marred by bruises and cuts. She is in every high end, upscale bar, downing shot after shot of alcohol just to feel it burn, though she can't get drunk. Every decision she makes is of sober mind, but whether it's a sound mind is debatable.

You'll catch a glimpse of her during a back alley gunfight, hear her manic laughter between the shots. She doesn't care who wins, and has been known to scream encouragement in the ears of both sides. She worms her way into the hearts of the bitter and the angry, feeding them the exact words needed to light a fire in their minds.

She will appear as a soldier, walking across a smoking battlefield with a grin on her face. Or she'll be a child, standing in the rubble of an old building with fury in her eyes.

She is violence. She is chaos.

---

Famine can be found in dreary places.

He blends in with the people that tend to occupy those spaces. You'll be able to spot him in line at a soup kitchen, or sitting on a bench at a homeless shelter. He wears tattered clothes, but his pockets are always full of snacks.

In fact, it's a rarity to see him not eating, but his ebony-toned skin remains wrapped loosely around his bones, no muscle to fill his frame. His eyes are dark as the void. Nothing could ever be enough to fill them up.

He is in the back booths of dingy, twenty-four-hour diners, where the waitstaff bring him more plates of food without word or payment from him. If you go to your gas station, the one that feels like reality has been altered slightly upon entering, he can sometimes be seen staring at the shelves of candy, and other times he is behind the counter giving you your change.

He is in the liquor aisle of every grocery store. He walks the city streets at night, weaving around the scantily-clad people looking for someone to take them home, or for money, or for both.

He is hunger. He is desire.

---

Death can be found in dark places.

But not necessarily "dark" the way you might think.

She is not the first to hold this power, but she will be the last.

It is rare to see her. It's hard to visit when you are as busy as she is. But she loves it here, and she loves her humans, so she makes time.

She appears in cemeteries on overcast days. She sits in the pews of empty churches. She mourns. Sometimes she cries.

Any elderly citizens who see her think she's a troubled youth, a wild teenager. But who can blame them? Purple hair softly curls around her face. Her lips are painted black, and her skin is so pale, you'd think she hadn't ever stepped foot into the sunlight.

She wanders around abandoned buildings, footsteps silent but not threatening. You may catch her in a parking lot in the middle of the night, standing under an unlit streetlamp, staring up at the stars. She stands behind you on the rooftop of a tall building and whispers to you not to do it, she's not ready to take you, life is too beautiful to be lost so early like this.

She carries more patience and more love than you will ever know.

She will stand by your side on a rocky cliff by the ocean, the wind tearing through your hair and clothes, and tell you that this is what it feels like to be alive.

She is gentle. She is melancholy.

She is the end.

[thelasttime]

could you please list some of the songs you'd recommend that are the brutal break up songs because i really really need them

for context, i made this playlist called "therapy" in november 2022 because i was Going Through It. here are some of my favorite songs from that playlist:

"always" by ashe

"a house in nebraska" by ethel cain

"cellophane" by fka twigs

"friend" by gracie abrams (this killed me)

"rockland" by gracie abrams

"into you" by julia michaels

"camera roll" by kacey musgraves

"liquor store on mars" by kelsy karter & the heroines

"two week notice" by leanna firestone

"doomsday" by lizzy mcalpine

"firearm" by lizzy mcalpine

"good enough" by maisie peters

"hollow" by maisie peters

"tough act" by maisie peters

"lonely" by noah cyrus

"traitor" by olivia rodrigo

"happier" by olivia rodrigo

"moon song" by phoebe bridgers

"in the kitchen" by renee rapp

"how many things" by sabrina carpenter

"nobody gets me" by sza

[teddysloved]

the “maybe you didn’t try hard enough. - you saying I had a chance?“ playlist

peace - taylor swift

dial drunk - noah kahan

locksmith - sadie jean

mess it up - gracie abrams

little lion man - mumford & sons

i can see you - taylor swift

if you go down (i'm goin' down too) - kelsea ballerini

better man - little big town

it’s you - ali gatie

the last time - taylor swift + gary lightbody

it’s ok - tom rosenthal

moondust - jaymes young

renegade - big red machine + taylor swift

lost my lover - ali gatie

ceilings - lizzy mcalpine

liquor store on mars - kelsy karter & the heroines

you’re in love - taylor swift

let’s hurt tonight - one republic

vertigo - griff

remember that night - sara kays

make up your mind - florence & the machine

logical - olivia rodrigo

tolerate it - taylor swift

moth to a flame - swedish house mafia + the weekend

bonus: you’re losing me - taylor swift

excerpts from my favorite songs, tagged by @ofcourseiloveher (+ of course I had to switch things up a bit)

[seldnei]

Okay. So. I read the indictment and looked at the photos in it, and the thing that gets me—like …

Look. Top secret materials were just being shown off to Kid Rock and everything, and that is *absolutely* terrible. Do not get me wrong.

But motherfucker also just, like, dumped BANKER’S BOXES of files on the stage in the Mar a Lago ballroom. Not even, like, fancy pretty boxes from Pier One or something, just cardboard boxes you can get at Staples. On the stage in the ballroom. Where he apparently had guests and parties and fundraisers.

How much does it cost to join Mar a Lago? Like, a lot, right? And I imagine those parties are, if not black tie, then suit and little black dress type soirées.

So imagine you’ve spent a stupid amount of money to be at this supposedly fancy club owned by the former President, and you’re required to wear a tie and/or (probably) pantyhose, and there you are sipping overpriced liquor in a room where the stage is just … storing files. In cardboard boxes.

I don’t know why I’m surprised that the man has no sense of decorum in, like, any sense of the word, but I guess I’d have expected him to at least, like, send someone to Target for some stylish storage boxes if it was going to just be out in the guest areas.

(Also kind of shocked he didn’t have those maps of “Country A” framed and put over his bed.)

[cksmart-world]

SMART BOMB

The Completely Unnecessary News Analysis

By Christopher Smart

Oct. 1, 2024

LIFE ELEVATED — TWENTY THOUSAND RUBBER CHICKENS

Utah and it's residents can be proud of a lot of things. True, the state legislature often acts like a bunch of circus monkeys, the state liquor store doesn't sell cold beer 'cause it would promote drinking and... well, the list goes on. But we have cool stuff, too. Wilson did you know that the first KFC was right here on Salt Lake City's State Street. True story. Think of it, Colonel Sanders is now worldwide — you can get drumsticks in Vietnam and India. Utah had the first department store �� Zions Cooperative Mercantile Institution, aka ZCMI, and it's still here. A Utah native, Walter Fredrick Morrison, invented the Frisbee. But get this: Another native son, Philo T. Farnsworth, invented TV. You're right Wilson, that is big. Here's a shocker: Loftus International based in Salt Lake City sells some 20,000 rubber chickens each year. That's a lot of rubber chickens. Why don't we have that on our “Life Elevated” billboards. Utah, of course has many natural wonders but this is not one of them although it is notable. Lake Powell — it's actually a man-made reservoir — has more shoreline than the U.S. West Coast. (Put an asterisk here, it's drying up.) Imagine what might have been if when Brigham Young arrived at the Valley of the Great Salt Lake in 1847, a soothsayer had told him all this stuff would come true. Rather than saying, “This is the place,” he might have uttered something like, “Holy shit.” Then the edifice at the mouth of Emigration Canyon would be called the Holy Shit Monument. Just a thought.

RELAXED AND DEPRESSED? YOU MUST LIVE IN SALT LAKE CITY

If you're just checking in to see what condition you're condition is in you might be interested in a new study that finds Utah's capital is one of the most relaxed cities in America. Wilson and the guys in the band are just one example of how mellow and laid back we really are — unless driving or talking to missionaries. But there is a catch, according to a study by Ben's Natural Health that analyzed 31 U.S. cities. (We are not making this up.) It found that 22.7 percent of Salty City residents suffer from depression. Bummer. But Wilson does make a good point: How do you distinguish between “relaxed” and “depressed” — some depressed people look relaxed and vice versa. One metric might be the assumption that depressed people eat more ice cream and drink more Mountain Dew than other folks. By contrast, Salt Lakers who are simply relaxed but not depressed tend toward iced caramel macchiatos. Wilson would like to make another point about herbal self- medication, but we'll skip that for now. It's not all bad news: Salt Lake City is not in the top 10 for ice cream consumption. Some other places might be even more depressed. However, we are still Numero Uno when it comes to Bill Cosby's favorite desert — Jell-O! Leaving Jell-O vodka shooters aside, you've got to believe that's a good thing. It is our state snack, after all. And like Jell-O, we do jiggle a lot.

TRUMP E-BIKES — WORLD'S BEST — GET YOURS NOW!

Hey Wilson, do you need a new watch? You and the guys in the band might want to jump on this.The Trump Victory Tourbillion watch is only $100,000. It's a deal 'cause they're already historic. How many former presidents hawked watches? Just imagine how much they'll be worth later. On second thought, never mind. “Exciting” is the only way to describe the Trump World Catalogue: Bibles - $60; digital trading cards - $99 each; gold “Never Surrender” hightop sneakers $400; Trump coins - $100 each. But wait, there's more. Soon to be released, according to unnamed sources: Donald Trump E-Bikes! These Trumpozilla E-Bikes blow the competition away. All Trumpozilla bikes come standard with the heavy-duty Mar-A-Lago frame, Stormy-D disk brakes and unparalleled E. Jean Carroll drivetrain. It's a steal for only $7,999. And get this, they have Trump's signature in gold paint. And you'll be stylin' in your Trump Apparel spandex onesie. This beautiful unisex gold cycling outfit comes with Trump's name on the front, back and down the legs. And with the purchase of any Trumpozilla E-Bike you get the onesie for only $499. Be the envy of your red state neighborhood. Get 'em while supplies last. Next week look for Don's Cheater Championship golf clubs. You'll never shoot a bad round again.

Post script — That's a wrap for another beautiful week here at Smart Bomb where we keep track of LDS general authorities, so you don't have to. Here's an interesting headline from The Salt Lake Tribune: “He’s a Democrat and an environmentalist. How did he end up an LDS general authority?” Just shocking! Here in Zion, Democrats and environmentalists are thought to be in league with Beelzebub. The headline more than suggests a liberal tree-hugger. Of course, we're talking about Steven E. Snow, the former historian for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He once said climate change is real and he still has a Temple Recommend. This could be a breakthrough Wilson. Other Mormon environmentalist might think it's safe to come out of the closet. They might say stuff like, it's OK to save the Great Salt Lake. Well, maybe that's going a little too far. If God wanted to save the lake he'd tell legislators that it's time to stop using Bear River water to grow alfalfa that is shipped to China. Maybe start with something a little less in your face, like regulations aimed at reducing industrial pig-farm waste. It's a slippery slope (no pun intended). Here's a headline from the Deseret News: “Former GOP Sen. Jeff Flake ( a Mormon) explains his endorsement of Kamala Harris.” Next these rebels will be singing “This Land Is Your Land,” a known socialist anthem directly in conflict with free market capitalism. What's next, Social Security and Medicare? Oh wait...

Well Wilson, your pal Kris Kristofferson has ridden off into the sunset after 88 years on planet Earth. He was one helluva singer/songwriter and a good movie actor to boot. One of his many songs became a popular anthem that still resonates today, “Me and My Bobby McGee” — made famous by his friend and fellow Texan, Janis Joplin. So what do you say Wilson, get the band off their duffs and let's send old Kris off in style:

Busted flat in Baton Rouge, waiting for a train I was feeling near as faded as my jeans Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained And rode us all the way to New Orleans I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandana I was playing soft while Bobby sang the blues Windshield wipers slapping time, I was holding Bobby's hand in mine We sang every song that driver knew Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose Nothing don't mean nothing honey if it ain't free, now now And feeling good was easy Lord, when he sang the blues You know feeling good was good enough for me Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee From the Kentucky coal mines to the California sun Hey, Bobby shared the secrets of my soul Through all kinds of weather, through everything that we done Hey Bobby baby kept me from the cold One day up near Salinas, Lord, I let him slip away He's looking for that home and I hope he finds it But I'd trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday To be holding Bobby's body next to mine Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose Nothing, and that's all that Bobby left me, yeah And feeling good was easy Lord, when he sang the blues Hey, feeling good was good enough for me, hmm hmm Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee (Me and My Bobby McGee — Kris Kristofferson)

[ochoislas]

Los recovecos de su lar fragante tesoro mágico encerraban: soplos —cuyo poder a todo genio liga—, en un silencio de cristal cautivos: cual en la infancia oímos, y pensamos que nunca morirán, mas en un guiño sonido e impresión se desvanecen, dejándonos tan sólo la añoranza.

Raudas visiones, dulces, peregrinas, yacían en leves vainas, como ninfas: quieren unas romper, desmayan otras de intensísimo gozo emperezadas; tienen misión de sustentar los santos que adoran en su pecho el sacro altar de parigual Amor: versicolores y de mil formas… todas a su imperio.

Y en un aviario de árboles edénicos, siempre floridos, confinaba aromas, envueltos en flotante red que un hada tejió sin luna de haces de rocío: dentro chocaban como los murciélagos contra las mallas de una vaquería; si libres y avisados muy capaces de levantar pasión en cualquier mente.

Y claras linfas dulces, con virtud de remediar durmiendo el alma enferma, eterna muerte transformar en noche de sueño esplendoroso, o fatal llanto mudar en lágrimas de puro gozo, sellaba muy celosa en sus ampollas: que si de ellas bebieran los mortales, dicen que el muerto no envidiara al vivo.

Acopiaba la cueva extraños rollos, obra de un saturnal y prócer mago, que ilustraba expiaciones con que el hombre cobrara de su dios la edad dorada que perdió, reparando el vicio innato, y, sacia ya su destructiva furia de sangre y oro, el paso equiparara con el curso armonioso de los astros;

Y cómo toda cosa indomeñable, que retener o aprisionar no cabe, de la mágica ciencia acata ensalmos; sea tiempo, tierra, fuego, viento, mar, o la imperiosa voluntad del hombre; y otros escritos que desentrañaban recóndito saber de amor… ¡profanos de indagar sus secretos se recaten!

Y maravillas de sustancia ignota, en que su padre por encantamiento mudara moles de tozuda peña, arrinconaba en pilas su retiro: labrados griales, lámparas que lucen con íntimo fulgor: como corolas en cuyo seno late la luciérnaga, bajo negro ciprés en noche ciega.

*

The deep recesses of her odorous dwelling Were stored with magic treasures—sounds of air, Which had the power all spirits of compelling, Folded in cells of crystal silence there; Such as we hear in youth, and think the feeling Will never die—yet ere we are aware, The feeling and the sound are fled and gone, And the regret they leave remains alone.

And there lay Visions swift, and sweet, and quaint, Each in its thin sheath, like a chrysalis, Some eager to burst forth, some weak and faint With the soft burthen of intensest bliss. It was its work to bear to many a saint Whose heart adores the shrine which holiest is, Even Love's:—and others white, green, gray, and black, And of all shapes—and each was at her beck.

And odours in a kind of aviary Of ever-blooming Eden-trees she kept, Clipped in a floating net, a love-sick Fairy Had woven from dew-beams while the moon yet slept; As bats at the wired window of a dairy, They beat their vans; and each was an adept, When loosed and missioned, making wings of winds, To stir sweet thoughts or sad, in destined minds.

And liquors clear and sweet, whose healthful might Could medicine the sick soul to happy sleep, And change eternal death into a night Of glorious dreams—or if eyes needs must weep, Could make their tears all wonder and delight, She in her crystal vials did closely keep: If men could drink of those clear vials, 'tis said The living were not envied of the dead.

Her cave was stored with scrolls of strange device, The works of some Saturnian Archimage, Which taught the expiations at whose price Men from the Gods might win that happy age Too lightly lost, redeeming native vice; And which might quench the Earth-consuming rage Of gold and blood—till men should live and move Harmonious as the sacred stars above;

And how all things that seem untameable, Not to be checked and not to be confined, Obey the spells of Wisdom's wizard skill; Time, earth, and fire—the ocean and the wind, And all their shapes—and man's imperial will; And other scrolls whose writings did unbind The inmost lore of Love—let the profane Tremble to ask what secrets they contain.

And wondrous works of substances unknown, To which the enchantment of her father's power Had changed those ragged blocks of savage stone, Were heaped in the recesses of her bower; Carved lamps and chalices, and vials which shone In their own golden beams—each like a flower, Out of whose depth a fire-fly shakes his light Under a cypress in a starless night.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

di-versión©ochoislas

[whiskeypores]

Getting to know the mun !

Name/Alias : ciarra/raz/razzle

Birthday : june 28

Zodiac Sign : cancer sun / pisces moon / capricorn rising

Height : 4'11

Hobbies : outside of writing and roleplay, mostly reading

Favorite Color : pink !

Current book : tempest of tea by hafsah faizal

Last Song : fortnight by taylor swift

Last Film / Show : kill bill, volume 2

Inspiration : the early seasons of supernatural, the winslows playlist, any and all werewolf media

Behind URL : the song liquor store blues by bruno mars. the line ' whiskey coming through my pores ' has reminded me of kelli since i heard it, and some variation of whiskeypores or whiskeystained has been the url for ages

Sweet/Savoury/Spicy ? : sweet!

Last thing I googled : the tracking number for my barnes & noble package coming today, lmao

Current Obsession : makeup! i haven't my makeup in literal years and i've been getting back into it and watching so many makeup videos

tagged by : yoinked from @unbearablyindifferent tagging : you!

[zooterchet]

Tek War (EON Entertainment)

The drug war, is hard. We will always have drugs. People need drugs. But they need to be clean. Clean and pure.

The CIA, is an elite agency, with five branches; officer, the child of a priest as a female dominatrix on top, Halloween. Instructor, the child of a priest as a female dominatrix on bottom, Halloween. Spymaster, the child of a priest with an FBI prostitute on, New Years. Agent, the murder of a cleared IQ exam, of mother, through father. Fraud, a financial scandal on draft to the Food and Drug Administrator, combat instructor farce.

This is the story, of Dave Charlebois, Delta Force Criminal Warfare, Kara Williamson Daignalt, United Nations Anti-Sniper, Lloyd Ahlquist, Annapolis Psychiatric Torture.

NSA/IRA, undercover cop, espionage history. "Chet".

CIA/UN, liquor sales, poverty investment, "Crux".

FBI/Psychiatric Union, forensic specialist, prisoner repeal, "Mercy".

The Hague, Man Mar Plaza, Beth-Deaconess Hospital.

The Bridgewater Triangle, and the Carolina Panthers.

You each, will receive a cultural landmark, on the world created by your parents, for your epic ballad, through the MI-6 unit you are to oppose, as SIS.

The Matrix, the story of the internet. "Cypher", faces "Trinity".

Final Fantasy, the story of the apocalypse. "Terra", faces "Cid".

James Bond, the story of economic hitmen. "Felix Leiter", faces "007".

Garfield, Fillmore, Kennedy.

The Masonic Lodge, the Alchemist's Book, the Sewer Unions.

You will all meet, off your homes. Cypher was on Gamespy, Terra was on Spam, Felix Leiter was on the Satanic Network.

We met at SW1, Parris Island.

This is the story, of "Goodnight Saigon", the legacy of the Vietnam War.

Beach Head, the story of Diamonds Are Forever. Cover Girl, the story of Fox News. Flint, the story of INTERPOL.

Our mutual enemy, South Park, the most hated construct we have ever faced and never watched, out of Hopkinton Public, Faye Private, and Dunaway Academy, in a sleepy town with a Freemasonic Temple and a grocery store.

Chet, was selected to develop his father's brand, the National Crime Syndicate, into cyberspace writing, DC Comics. Crux, was selected to take Physics, to the level of interstellar communications, the iPhone. Mercy, was selected to turn the entire planet, into a single forest, of marijuana on taxed debt.

The three of them, enlisted in their secondary units, through Sandi MacDonald, on behalf of MI-6 headmaster, Ronald Reagan; Chet, the IRA, Crux, the UN, and Mercy, the Psychiatric Union.

Each was contacted privately by Raven Laventi, "Black Widow", and assigned to a secondary mission.

Chet, was assigned to clean a STARS team, for the Nixon Presidential Society. Crux, was assigned to make contact with Carlos the Jackal, for the ACLU. Mercy, was assigned to develop medications with the illicit narcotics developed inside Princeton labs, for use on field tests on animals to harvest corn, tuna, and cotton.

The key to winning, isn't staying in close contact, it's being willing to work on poverty.

Your family stole billions of dollars of credit, furniture, music, real estate, liquor, tax dollars, and political handmanship, from Richard Milhouse Nixon, with Comedy Central. The ZODIAC Commission, George Soros.

Thanksgiving approaches, and we all know how fond Safin Lucypher, Alex Gaetano, is of the holidays. She's a Capone, and Vermont State Police, put a badge on her, during the Roaring Twenties, through President Coolidge.