#Replaces a dead audio

[tfc2211]

T-Bone Walker / Joe Turner / Otis Spann – Super Black Blues (1969)

[copia]

delighted though i am for ghost's growing success i'm keeping my fingers crossed for an obviously low-budget ghovie like the chapters before it. because the papa nihil darth vader breathing and seestor's car crash montage and the shitty nihil ghost effects and copia living in the hall outside a bathroom with no door etc all add a certain je ne sais quoi

[bookshelfdreams]

the euphoria of correctly predicting a plottwist is only surpassed by the sheer delight of said plottwist being done in the dumbest possible way

[hypnobyl]

the only thing i could think while watching this in theaters.

[lycorid]

Gonna start playing Smite occasionally again I think. Plus it’s free and some of the modes don’t take super long so I can bait (read: ask) my friend into playing with me.

Arena is just super fun because everyone is bunched together so you can pull some absolute bullshit with characters and get away with it. Aphrodite is dumb as shit when you’re semi-competent and you link to someone else who’s semi-competent; the entire team dives on you both and you just laugh as you team wipe them because you’re literally unkillable. Joust is super tense unless you play with friends though because people get big mad over losing. The “Joust but with two lanes” (conquest?) is pretty fun though.

Also they added a whale that’s apparently really dumb so I want to try that one out.

[renthewerecatboi]

apparently sfm has decided fuck me, i am not allowed to move anything anymore

[audliminal]

It's just a game, right? Pt 2

Masterpost

"It's like. Crazy, y'know?" Bernard's voice echoes in Tim's ears as he fiddles with his mask. "Like, when they started posting, I was kinda meh about it? I mean the first few videos they posted were just like. Basic shitty, scrambled audio, and the first clues were just like, real simple. Basic word replacement stuff; mostly vigenères, right? But now it's- they're using everything! The current drop is. It's layers, man. And I think it's intentional."

"Isn't it supposed to be intentional? I thought that was like, the whole point of an ARG."

"No I mean, like yeah obviously the clues are intentional, but like. The way the difficulty curve is just increasing. When this started it was so easy, but I don't think it was because they like, didn't know what they were doing or anything. Which, cool yeah that makes sense, you want people to buy in before it gets super hard or whatever, but there are, like all these threads that never went anywhere. And everybody kind of wrote them off as red herrings because they didn't seem to fit into the narrative that we had so far, but I can't stop thinking about them, you know?"

"I mean, they could still be red herrings, couldn't they?"

"Well, technically, yeah, but like. Why? It's one thing to have a dead end that maybe calls back to a previous clue or, like, reaffirms some detail from before but having something completely unconnected seems like a weird choice. Especially when the creator keeps telling us to dig deeper."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Tim asks with a laugh.

"No that's the thing!" Bernard's voice goes intense, and Tim momentarily stops putting his mask back together. "Literally every fucking drop those exact words are hidden somewhere in the mess of encryptions, and as things get more complicated, it's showing up more not less. And that together with all the fucking loose details that don't seem to fit in anywhere? I'm literally on the verge of going back to the beginning of the whole thing and solving it from scratch, bc I think we're missing a lot." Tim kind of forgets, sometimes, how similar he and Bernard are, but the in his boyfriend's voice is one he's intimately familiar with. That combination of obsession and frustration - and obviously it's not really serious because like, it's an internet game, but it doesn't matter what the stakes are, being stuck on a puzzle fucking sucks, and he can't exactly patrol what with his broken ankle, so maybe a fun, no-stakes challenge would be good for him.

"We were planning on hanging out on Friday, so what if you walked me through it from the start, and maybe together we can come up with some answers?"

"Seriously? Dude that would be so awesome! I will teach you everything I know about code breaking!"

"I mean, I do know some things, you know. You think I didn't have a spy phase as a teenager?" Tim smiles at Bernard's responding laughter. It'll be nice, he thinks, to mess with a puzzle where nobody's life is at stake.

[houseofanticipation]

It's impossible to count the number of times you've imagined this moment. Late at night, under the covers; in the bathtub, and the shower; on slow days at the bookstore, the summer before senior year; during Mr. Madrigal's long, droning lectures. You fantasized so vividly you could see each scene on the back of your eyelids, hear each sound between breaths. Many a time your hand migrated southward, almost of its own volition. If you were in public, you'd hold it against your crotch, pressing it into yourself with the force of your clenched thighs. In private, you'd be far less subtle.

In all those fantasies, you never imagined it would look quite like this.

The hallway smells like cigarettes and industrial cleaner. The haphazardly patterned carpet is coming up at the edges. The yellow tube light overhead might be attempting morse code, the way it flickers. Paint peels from the door in front of you, and one of the metal digits in the room number has been replaced with one that doesn't quite match: room 233. You raise your hand, your knuckles inches from the door, and then you pause. You're not sure if you can go through with this.

Before you can decide, the door opens anyway.

You started posting pictures in your first year of college. It was just your tits at first. You'd been quietly following those subreddits and tumblr blogs for a while, and you thought it would be a bit of fun, a little thrill. You didn't expect the response you got: dozens of people telling you how much they'd enjoyed it, asking for more. So you posted more, and the people asked for different things. Post your ass. Post your cunt. Post your fingers in your cunt. Post audio of you moaning as you came. The more you revealed of yourself, the more attention you got, and the more attention you got, the more you wanted to show. People wanted to send you tips, so you set up a Cash App address. You never got much, a few dollars here and there, but it was nice to get a free coffee now and then.

And somewhere along the way, apparently, you let slip that you were a virgin.

The message came late last semester, from a Cash App user whose name was just a string of numbers. It read, "I will buy your virginity for $100,000. So you know I'm serious, here is $7000 for you to keep, deal or no deal. Let me know if interested."

It was like one of those hypotheticals you talk about with your friends at the dinner table. Would you work nonstop for a year if it meant you never had to work again? Would you cut off your hand if it meant you never had to die? Would you let a stranger from the internet take your virginity for a hundred thousand dollars? You thought about it for weeks. The 7 thousand in itself was a windfall you never could have imagined. It was the new laptop you needed, four times over. It was a large iced coffee ever day for three and a half years. After graduation, if you were smart, it could be your living expenses for the better part of a year. But a hundred thousand might be a house, or a car, or a few years of freedom to pursue your goals. And when you asked how you could trust him to pay when he'd gotten what he wanted, he told you he'd be happy to pay up front.

So here you are, in a dingy hotel, face to face with the broad-shouldered, potbellied older man in front of you. "I saw you through the peephole," he says. There's something impish about him. Maybe it's the toothy grin, or the way his ears stick out from his head, or the obvious glee in his voice as he looks you up and down. "My, you're much better in person. Come in! You got the money then?"

You nod. You didn't leave the Lyft until it was there in your account.

"Good," he says, throwing the dead bolt. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"

"What should...I mean, how do you want to..." you feel yourself talking strangely. Breathing in the wrong places, words tumbling over each other. "Maybe we should...talk first? Get to know each other?"

"No need for that," says the man matter-of-factly, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest is smooth, his skin a mottled pink. He waves a hand at your body. "Go ahead and get those off."

Back in high school, one of your recurring fantasies involved Jason Meier having his way with you in the back of that beat up convertible he used to drive. That old thing used to get you so wet. It was a piece of junk, but something about the exposure of it...In the fantasy, he's driven you out to some secluded spot outside of town. Cicadas drone all around. The night sky shines bright with stars. He cups your face with one hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb, asks you if this is your first time. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, then below your ear, then down your neck. As his hands undo the top button of your blouse, he tells you he'll be gentle.

The man is watching you expectantly. With his shirt on, he looked like a portly old man. Without it you can see that every inch of that stocky build is hard muscle. That pink skin strains against his mass, muscle rippling beneath it as he moves. "What are you waiting for?"

Your legs tremble. Your knees feel like they're about to buckle. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your body has never done this before. You didn't know you could feel this kind of fear, and yet there's nothing to fight, nowhere to flee. You agreed to this. You decided this was what you wanted. Slowly, you pull your shirt over head.

He groans in the back of his throat, a long, growly sound. His face is a mask of focus, the impish joviality gone, his eyes fixated on your breasts. "And the rest."

You kick off your shoes, pull off your socks. An inch at a time, you slide your shorts and panties over your ass, down your legs, past your trembling knees. You step out of them, and now you're completely exposed. You cross your arms over your chest, then lower them when he grunts disapproval. Almost urgently, he unbuttons his pants, pulls out a long, rigid cock, and begins to stroke himself.

You didn't discover internet porn until your senior year, and before then the only penises you'd seen were a few drawings in your health textbook. In the fantasy, you unbutton Jason Meier's pants and fig. 7.5, "The penis becomes engorged when in state of arousal," pops out of his underwear. You take it in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the girth, and look up into those beautiful brown eyes of his.

This cock is much...realer. It has bounce, texture, even a sound as his hand slides up and down its length. It's longer than the one in that old fantasy, too, and it leans slightly to the left. For years you've wondered what it would be like to see a cock in person, and now that you're here it terrifies you.

"Come here," says the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get on your knees."

You falter. "You didn't...I mean, we didn't agree to that."

"I bought your virginity," says the man. "You ever suck cock before?"

You shake your head.

"Then your mouth is just as much a virgin as your cunt. Get down here."

It's almost a relief to get off your legs, the way they've been threatening to give out. Close up, you can see the purples and blues of the veins under his skin. The head of his cock pulses with anticipation as your lips part, your tongue extends...

You don't think you can do this.

Then his hand is on the back of your head.

You always imagined Jason Meier whimpering as you took him into your mouth. You were never quite able to picture what he would feel like between your lips, on your tongue; the movie camera of your imagination always panned up at that point, to focus on his face. He would let his head fall back in pleasure, eyebrows knit with sensation, lips slightly parted. Now, though, there's no camera to pan. You are here. This is real. And his powerful hand is pushing your mouth onto his cock.

A sound you can't control comes out of you. Your back arches, your hands flail, and then by pure instinct they're on his belly, pushing against him, away from him. Spit runs down your chin, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say, looking anywhere but at his face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I thought I could do this but I can't."

There's a horrible darkness in his voice. "I already gave you the money."

"I know, I'll give it back, I'm sorry." The words trip over each other on the way out of your mouth. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, I just, I thought I could..."

His hand is on the back of your head again, and this time his fingers are curled tight into your hair. He jerks your head back, forcing you to look at him, and his eyes are cold and predatory. "I'm not interested in returning what's already bought and paid for." He jams himself back into your mouth.

You always imagined yourself savoring it, taking your time to explore every inch of Jason's length with your tongue, but there's no time for that now. The veiny, throbbing thing in your mouth bypasses your tongue entirely, forcing past your uvula. You gag, then gag again. Your stomach churns and you convulse as your body tries to remove the foreign object, but the man just pushes harder. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, deeper, making your throat bulge, your limbs spasm. As his balls touch your chin, you close your eyes and try to relax your throat.

He holds you like that. You gag for a third time, and thick saliva explodes through the gaps around his cock, dripping down your chin and collecting in a long, dangling rope. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to acclimatize to the feeling, try to convince your body that nothing is wrong. You think you've got it, and then he moves slightly, and you're gagging again. He groans, grips your head tighter, and in the back of your throat you feel his cock swell slightly. He likes it when you gag for him, says a voice in the back of your mind. The motion is pleasurable for him.

You've got another problem rearing its head. You can't breathe. It was fine at first, but the man shows no interest in freeing up your airways, and in all the gagging and crying, you haven't exactly been conserving your oxygen. You pat his leg, trying to signal to him, but all he does is clap you on the side of the head. Your ear rings, you gag again, and his cock throbs. Black walls are closing in on your vision. The effort of struggling against him becomes too much, and your arms fall to your sides. Your eyelids flutter. You're going to pass out. You're going to pass out, and then what will he do to you?

But just before the world fades to black, he pulls your head back again. You feel every inch of his cock as it slides out of your throat. He lifts your face, and your eyes struggle to focus on his as you take lungful after lungful of glorious air. Drool spills across your lips, but you don't care. You're alive.

The man slaps you hard, leaving a stinging impression of his palm on your cheek. You whimper. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, pushing on the back of your tongue. Not knowing exactly why, you close your lips around them and shut your eyes.

"That's better," he says.

The first time you saw a male sex toy in use was in an ad before a porn video you were watching. You were taken aback by the way the performer had pounded it over his cock, barely more than an extension of his hand. You're reminded of that image as he parts your lips again, and the rape of your throat begins in earnest.

You haven't thought about Jason Meier in years, but at this moment he's the only thing keeping you sane. As your face rams up and down, up and down, you retreat to that beat up convertible, and Jason's soft, thoughtful face. As the man tightens his grip, Jason runs his fingers through your hair. As the man grunts and growls with pleasure, Jason coos your name. With each stroke of his cock down your throat, each spasm of your body, you focus on a different part of Jason's body: his large hands, his long fingers, his shoulders, his jawline, his liquid brown eyes. By the time the man finally releases your hair, you can barely feel your body any more. The convertible is far more real than the squeaky motel bed. The hands on your body are Jason's, soft and tender.

He climbs over the center console straddling you. You lock lips, feel your tongues in each other's mouths, kiss so deeply that it feels as though you share the same breath. He pulls the lever to lay your seat back, and then he's over you, on top of you, lifting your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.

This is the part where, in the old days, you would have slipped a finger or two inside yourself. But this time you don't have to. This time you can feel him inside you, really feel him, and he fills you up like your fingers never could. There's some pain—they told you there'd be pain, didn't they, your first time—but it falls away to the thrill, the lust, the pleasure. Jason whimpers as he slides into you, deeper, deeper, and you moan into each other's mouths as his pelvis meets yours. You take a moment to savor it, breathing each other in, and then he begins to thrust.

You feel drunk. It's exactly like you always imagined it, and somehow better than you could ever have expected. Each movement of his hips brings another sensation: a spasm in the arches of your feet, a hitch in your breath, a churning, swirling need in the depths of your abdomen. Deeper you tell him, harder, and he obliges, pulling you into him, and him into you.

You can feel the orgasm building, but it isn't like any you've had before. Every time you've ever cum, you've been in control. This time, Jason is in control. Jason decides when you cum, how you cum. One hand supports his weight as he leans over you, and the other slides up your belly. You used to watch those hands obsessively. The way he held a pencil, the way he bit his knuckles when he was thinking. Now that hand slides up, caresses your breast. Now that thumb brushes your hair out of your face. Now those fingers close around your throat.

You know you're safe with Jason, but the pressure on your throat triggers some animal fear response in you. You try to squirm away, but his arm is strong, and his hand his firm. Your hands go to his wrist. "I don't like that, stop." He just smiles. It isn't his usual sweet smile, either. This one is cruel. Predatory.

Your face feels tight. Your eyes bulge. You're beginning to panic for real now. "Jason, seriously, stop!" You beat at his arm with your fists, but he easily takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. You try to kick at him, but he's already past your defenses, between your legs, pushing them uselessly apart. His grip tightens, his rhythm increases, his cock swells inside you. He's getting off on this.

All at once you're back in the hotel room. The man's sweaty red face is inches away from your own, and the lust in his eyes is obvious. His cock seems to push deeper with every thrust, and the horrible thing is that the orgasm is still coming. It's close now, you can feel it, and it's like he knows exactly how to bring it out. You feel floaty, tingly, and that awful pleasure is welling up inside you, a pot about to boil over...

"That's right," he says, his eyes locked on yours. "That's what I was waiting for. That perfect mix of...pleasure...and...fear." He punctuates each of these last three words with a long, deep thrust, and it's these that send the orgasm spilling over. A choked moan pushes itself out of you as your back arches, your toes curl, your legs wrap involuntarily around his waist, tears roll down your cheeks. That floaty feeling has combined with the orgasm to create something like how you imagine heroin must feel; a wave of mind numbing, soul deadening ecstasy. Your insides feel hot, and at first you think that must just be what it feels like when you cum from sex, but then you see the look on his face and realize that he's cumming too. His grip relaxes and he pounds away a few more times at your now-limp body. You stare at the ceiling as he moans, buries his face between your tits, pumps round after round of his warm, thick cum into your cunt, your womb. After one final push he collapses onto you, his cock still inside you, his bulk crushing you into the bed. You don't move.

He strokes your cheek. Fondles your nipple. Kisses your neck. Then he kisses your mouth, his tongue pushing your lips open, his breath like damp earth. You barely see him.

It must be almost ten minutes before he finally gets up, his limp cock sliding out of you at last. You can feel his cum dripping from your cunt as he puts on his underwear, then pants, then shirt, then shoes. "The room is paid for the night," he says with his hand on the door handle. "Thank you for struggling. Taking someone's virtue is so much better when you actually get to take it.

You don't respond.

You don't know how long you lie there, motionless, dripping cum. Oddly, the man who just raped you isn't the one burned onto your mind's eye. Try as you might to return to that sweet teenage fantasy, all you can see is Jason Meier as he held his hand to your throat, and that cruel, predatory smile on his face.

[abbyfmc]

Yandere story idea #26:

A sixteen-year-old boy named Daniel (or whatever name he might have) arrives after a desperate call from one of the cleaning staff at the house where he lived. She told him that she found his mother (Y/n) lying on the floor, apparently from the second floor, amidst piles of glass shards, which was dangerous since she was seven months pregnant. Her husband, named David, was dead next to her, who seemed to still be alive.

Daniel entered shock to see how 911 took their parents. His mother was alive when he arrived at the hospital, while David was taken to the forensic immediately. The maid who had found them contacted the whole family, including Daniel's paternal grandmother, Margaret. That night, Daniel loses his parents and his unborn sister, because of a stranger. Margaret is also destroyed by the death of her son, daughter -in -law and unborn granddaughter; That is why Daniel stays with her. During and after the duel, Daniel does not understand how everything happened and intends to investigate everything thoroughly. This traumatic event left him marked, feeling that until he caught the murderer, he will not feel alive again. His grandmother, who is in charge of him, supports him on his purpose, because he is confident that David was not the culprit of everything and Daniel also trusts his father, since he always treated his mother with enough love and affection.

In his father's autopsy bruises and several serious bullet wounds were found. The footprints in his body were not clear (Y/n), nor of Daniel (obviously, since he was hanging out with his friends) or anyone who was in the house. In his mother's body there were signs of struggle and bruises who were not known or anyone known either. This gave the impression that both were attacked when they were alone, what Daniel scores as the first clue.

Daniel gives the police to the security cameras of his house through his father's laptop, and there he managed to capture himself as days before the catastrophe an unknown man dressed in black was around the house at night, which he reminded him His mother's constant concern after he told his father about having seen that strange subject, also remembering how she mentioned that he was felt persecuted by whom Daniel suspected that he was the same person.

The only one of the recordings Daniel could not bear to see was that of the death of his parents for obvious reasons, but managed to find out thanks to the officers that the first to be attacked was David, trying to defend (Y/n), and then She was the unfortunate that unfortunately was pushed from the stairs. The audio was clear and revealed clues about the identity of this murderer.

Among the discussion that stood out the most from the intruder against his father, was the following: "If it hadn't been for you, (t/n) and I would be very happy! But you got in the middle!".

And when the stranger struggle with his mother and tried to kiss her by force, the most striking phrase was: "If you had loved me, none of this would have happened" and after (Y/n) shout in despair that released her and tried to attack him, he pushed her sharply by the rail of the second floor, which could only break if it was forced by human hand, since it was replaced recently.

In addition to that, fingerprints have also been detected on the stairs of both the unknown person and the married couple. As far as we know, the intruder watched the house for a while, broke in, first attacked David and then tried to wrestle with (Y/n), ending up killing her and her baby in the process.

The police were unable to find the killer, as he fled the scene without leaving anything behind. That didn't stop Daniel from deciding to investigate what could have happened and he already had the first small piece of the story thanks to the key dialogues on the recordings.

1: This killer was already known to his parents, or at least his mother, and it seems that he was a stalker or an ex-boyfriend who hated David.

Daniel asked his grandmother not to bury his mother's body yet, and managed to convince her that it was to investigate more thoroughly what had happened. He even told her what he had discovered about the possible story behind it. This reminds Margaret of how David had told her years ago, during (Y/n)'s first pregnancy, when he worriedly told her how his wife was receiving calls from a certain Alex (that's what Margaret thought his name was) who was tormenting (Y/n).

Daniel convinced his grandmother to pressure the authorities into investigating the origin of the fingerprints, as well as the electronic devices of both parents (and she also convinced them with some money involved). Daniel also tried to remember, but he couldn't remember much more than his mother's mention to his father that the guy hadn't left her alone since he was in college.

Daniel decides to pack up his things and move in with his grandmother. After cleaning up with his grandmother's help, he finds documents from his parents, his personal documents, the will that put the house and the family money under Daniel's name when he came of age, and some torn and crumpled letters with very interesting content. Margaret gave them to the police in case they were evidence.

It turns out that they were letters where the crazy stalker described his hatred for David and his crazy obsession for (Y/n), except for one where he got seriously angry with her after finding out that she was pregnant again. He threatened her to abort the baby and leave David, or he would kill her family and force her to do it and then kidnap her.

From here I can think of several endings:

Case solved: The classic good ending. The police find the killer who turns out to be a yandere who was madly obsessed with (Y/n), to the point of having committed the severe crime. The yandere killer could have put up resistance; tried to flee or could have turned himself in to the police. * I also imagine that (your son/[Y/n]'s son) sold that house as soon as he could. He obviously wouldn't want to return to a house where his mother, father, and unborn sister were brutally murdered. * And if the yandere is sadistic and very vengeful enough to take it out on an innocent person (in this case, your oldest son), to the point of sending him sick letters describing his horrible feelings towards you and what he always wanted to do

Unsolved case: The police get nowhere (either because they are simply lazy or because the yandere killer escaped), which motivates Daniel to become a law enforcement officer (probably with another identity), to the point of becoming part of the FBI (or any institution in your country that resembles it) to investigate that case and bring justice for his parents. *Your son could end the yandere killer's life and use his influence to get his way. *Or your son could simply use his position to catch the yandere killer and watch him rot in prison.

-The End.

For a long time I wanted to explore the idea of ​​a yandere story BUT from a third party's point of view; in this case, darling's son (yours) who slowly finds out about the history between you and the yandere who killed you. He ended up seeing how an unrequited obsessive love (or the end of a relationship if the yandere is an ex) led to the massacre that changed him for life at such a young age.

[talekinesis]

Random GF thoughts for today:

In another universe where the Stan Twins were born female, I think they'd be named Taylor and Taylee

I think Stanley has an illegitimate child out there somewhere, so I'm going to be giving him a son who's really into 80s fashion and music, because I said so

"Shanklin was great! He used to play dead all the time, until the day he wasn't playing ☹️" - Stan at one point

(current day) Stan randomly came inside with a possum like "did you know Shanklins are free, and you can just grab them?" And Ford tried to fight him to put it back outside. Stan ended up keeping it. He calls them Shanklins, not possums. Every single one is a Shanklin

Ford thought about adopting a dog for a while, but before he could, a microraptor followed him home from the cave where the dinosaurs were, and he "reluctantly" kept it. It rides around on his shoulder and he named it Tesla, because of course he would

This is a microraptor, they were small carnivorous birds :)

Both Stan Twins were surviving off ramen in their late teens-early 20s. Stan, because it's all he could afford, and Ford because it was convenient and he was a college student

I saw someone else say Ford loves jellybeans, and I have to agree, he just seems like a jellybeans guy

I don't think Ford has all his teeth, I think at least some of them are fake or replaced. We know Stan has dentures, but Ford's been gone for 30 years, and who knows if he had access to a tooth brush, I'm just saying

I think Stan used to enjoy reading as a kid, but it was only books like The Boxcar Children he enjoyed because he'd imagine himself running away from home to live in a boxcar, not fully realizing just how hard that would be, he was like 10

Speaking of reading, I think Stan is dyslexic, and Ford used to read to him when they were kids. Now as adults and having fixed their relationship, I think they still do it. Ford will read aloud whatever book he's on, and Stan will sit quietly and listen while he fishes. I think once Stan learns about audio books and podcasts, he starts getting super into them. He just never liked reading because his dyslexia made him feel 'dumb' because he was raised to believe he was

Bonus:

Ford: You're not dumb, Stanley, you're actually really smart, just not in any way that was on a high school test

Stan: Yeah, sure, that's what Ma used to say

Ford: Right.. So tell me again about that fish you were talking about earlier?

Stan, suddenly excited: Wobbegongs, they're a type of shark belonging to the family Orectolobidae, and the word 'wobbegong' is believed to come from an Australian Aboriginal language, meaning "shaggy beard-"

Ford: *sighs*

[neos-schlond-poofa]

no because. like around 17 times out of 20 loops donna HAS MEMORIES. like they can be clear or they can be fuzzy BUT THEY ARE THERE and she remembers how happy mc was with everyone else. like. she doesnt already have self confidence imagine knowing other people easily replaced you in other timelines SHE IS ANXIOUS 😭

(art by @dead-finch-420)

OKAY FOR SOME ODD REASON THE AUDIO IS DELAYED ON TUMBLR.

[tfc2211]

Suzi Quatro – Your Mamma Won't Like Me (1975)

[maehemthemisfit]

𝘊𝘈𝘕'𝘛 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘙 𝘔𝘌 ? 𝘐𝘔 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘏𝘖𝘔𝘌.

♡𝅼  pairing : wanderer x reader

♡𝅼  content : angst + major character death + poetic format

The wind chimes always sound when he arrives at your door, carrying a gentle breeze that sways the flowers in his hands. Even though he doesn't have to, he still knocks before he enters, slipping off his shoes while announcing that he's home.

His steps are silent on the hard wooden floor as he pads to the table to add the roses to the vase. To the kitchen, he travels, taking two bags of tea, he makes his first and he brews his bitter.

He slides your cup against the counter, sugar and honey at his side. He twirls the spoon before he dips, scoping up grains to sugarcoat lies.

One spoon. Two spoons. Three spoons. Four. He takes a sip and gags at the sweetness. Five spoons. Six spoons. Seven spoons more. He decides to spare his tongue the misery again.

To the table once more he places your cup, filled to the brim with your favorite tea. His sits at the chair across from yours and glides his finger over the rim of porcelain.

"Sumeru roses?" He hears you say, and his eyes shoot up to the sight of you.

"I stumbled upon them on my way, I thought I'd replace the ones that died."

The word of death lays heavy on his tongue, and for a moment you disappear. He shakes his head and sips his cup, and once again your touch is near.

Behind his back you cup his face and place a kiss atop his head. He melts into your touch until your ghost reminds him that you're dead.

And suddenly you disappear, his vision shifts to what is true. Twenty cups across the table, filled with tea he former brewed. The sugar is spilled across the counter and honey soaked the floor. And if a raven comes they'll say his love is nevermore.

The trash is filled with piles of wilted flowers from the past. Tears drip into his bitter tea since...

"Humans never last."

He shakes his head then blinks his eyes and mutters in confusion, he remembers he had plans for tea and give in to his delusions. You must be sleep inside your room, of course! he hears you snore. He recalls that you were low on sugar, he decides to fetch some more.

Maybe he should get you flowers, perhaps your favorite kind? He tips his hat and leaves the door, and hears another chime.

listened to an edit audio and immediately had this idea, i have a version for cyno and tighnari in mind too if you guys wanna see ?

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ. ꒱ 𖥔 ° . *

[ingravinoveritas]

Audio of Michael with Kathy Burke on the Where There's A Will There's a Wake podcast being asked who would play Aziraphale if he dies and saying that he'd want David to play both parts. Transcript below (bold emphasis mine):

KB: "What about your colleagues' response? I mean, if you're in the middle of--I mean listen, in Nye, when you're doing theatre work, you do have understudies. But let's say you're were doing a new series of Good Omens with the great David Tennant--" Michael: "Well, I don't know about the great, but okay. With David Tennant, yeah." KB: "Who would replace you? I mean, who would put up with him, do you think?" Michael: "I mean, I'm loath to say it...but really, he should play both parts. Because originally we were--originally I was--Neil Gaiman, who wrote the original book with Terry Pratchett that the series was based on--when I first started talking to Neil about it, when he told me that he was going to do it, originally we talked about me playing the other part, the part David played. And one of the sort of things about us doing it is we'd never really acted opposite each other before because we'd usually be up for the same parts for many, many years. I think it was sort of between me and him for Casanova when he did Casanova. I mean, he's far too egotistical to let me know the parts I got over him--" KB: "--Of course." Michael: "There we are. That shows what the relationship is like. I'm quite happy to say the part that he got over me. But so, the fact that we were together in this was quite unusual, because normally we would be playing the same part. So that's quite good in a way, cause they're both, they're sort of light and shade of the same person in a way. So once I did pop my clogs, maybe he would have to then--you know the way they do it, do you remember that film Dead Ringers where Jeremy Irons played twins? So I'd quite like to see David playing both parts. And it would be his homage to me."

[captainzigo]

so unfortunately very few entries here are going to properly be vintage. also what i consider vintage might not line up with what you do. i am not old.

also i am not wealthy. and my family isn’t wealthy. this is an expensive hobby to have. i get most of my stuff from loving it and refusing to throw it away… and digging through the trash at university. you would be surprised with the stuff people throw away. planned obsolescence has nothing on the fact that people can’t be bothered to fix a sour harddrive.

i actually fix computers as a sort of second job. it’s nice to work on computers i can’t afford and that aren’t from the trash. but i love old tech. i love breathing life in to things long dead. i’m a technonecromancer. i am not including pictures of things i haven’t finished yet for the most part. and i simply am not including most things. this is but a fraction of my power

ok so these are all my computers that work. i didn’t include ones that im still working on. they all worked but needed repairs variously. mostly they just needed new hard drives.

my game consoles. again not including ones that don’t work. i actually bought that 3ds, but the rest my parents gave me after they got them used. that gameboy has needed a screen replacement that required soldering. the ds is my little trooper and has needed nothing ever. the wii needed a new disc drive. and the 3ds came in japanese and i hacked it to english.

there’s a back view of my stickers

these are some of my various devices. again not including ones that don’t work. that nano needed a new battery which was actual hell and i’m surprised it survived. that ipad is the first ipad and she works beautifully and one time i fastened it to my tummy for a tellytubby costume. i was slutty lala and i played the old spiderman movie trilogy in glorious VHS quality. i couldn’t find my iphone 3gs for this picture :( but it will turn up. i’ll include an old picture instead of cleaning my room to find it lol

here are some novelties i just like. thats an old radio i swiped from my great grandfather. i got it working but it broke again. i dont know whats wrong with it and its so old that the parts are impossible to find. on the right is the browser for DS which is just so quaint. i love it. it barely works at all but i loaded a wikipedia page one time so xP

this is my terrible stupid tiny phone i got from aliexpress that barely works BUT IT DOES WORK and is technically loaded with all modern smartphone features. i attached a video of it barely playing roblox

this is my og imac. with the og keyboard. i didn’t include it with the working computers because it doesn’t. the harddrive died and im trying to fix it but its really hard. i’ve already sought out two different adapters that haven’t worked

and this is a commodore 64 that i also got out of the trash. it does not work but im hoping to make it work. someone clearly loved it. enough to paint it crazy colors and enough to

write some weird scifi quote on the inside of the case under the RF shield. but maybe they died, or it just became too much of an undertaking.

not included here is:

• several more apple products that i just don’t think look good. all the iphones between 6 and 11 are just so ugly. and i don’t actually like the way apple watches look

• the phone, tablet, and smart watch i actively use

• various bits and bobs like the official speakers for a imac 4, an electronic pocket dictionary, various wii peripherals and so on

• all of my audio equipment

• my iphone 3gs. i just never found it or any pictures of it. i love it tho. it was my first phone (hand me down. i’m not that old) and i have had to repair it so many times and i love taking bad photos with it

• all of my monitors

• my many videogames

• my old fridge that i love and cherish and use

• anything i have fixed and then given to someone else

• a bunch of other stuff

so if you are a beautiful trans woman, are you in love with me yet? or do i need to make a part two

[foxy-alien]

taz graphic novel thoughts… I’m putting it under the cut because… spoilers silly.

Forewarning this really got away from me and is unfortunately pretty negative. read at your own risk

Huh, this really is an adaption? After the eleventh hour this is a really big let down tbh. Just so much was cut and it felt SO rushed. In the first 3 scenes we lose taako’s “because I’m afraid no one else will have me” and practically ALL of Magnus and the void fish swimming.

Obviously things need to be cut, it’s a completely different medium, but all the emotional payoff was ruined. I was never scared they were going to lose something great, I didn’t even cheer for them when they killed Edward. All the sacrifices are so minimized FOR GOD SAKES MAGNUS AND GOVERNOR KALIN WAS CUT. Are you kidding me? One of the most important sacrifices and emotional moments of TAZ.

With every cut there is a cut to later payoff, in the eleventh hour that was balanced well but here it just doesn't work. So much is cut out of tsg that as a reader there were no stakes to win or lose. I knew they would win because its their story but i didn't care what would happen to them.

So Wonderland was too short, why do I care? because the very heart of the suffering game was lost.

This is the thesis of the suffering game summed up best.

What did they learn in wonderland? How did they change? They don't really. Taako doesn't choose the mission over himself, Magnus doesn't give up his main purpose in life, Merle doesnt lose his faith.

We don't get to see them at their worst because there is no one in Wonderland who their actions effect. I always, ALWAYS tear up at Rowen's "why?" after they go through their round with the monster factory. This catalyses Taako into later choosing to sacrifice his beauty. With the stakes cut we lose the emotional payoff of later scenes.

The solution of the suffering game being too long was not to cut out all of the spinning. It needed a restructuring. Heart attack has every interesting character moment cut, its barely a drive by of the original scene, why not just cut the moment entirely? It doesn't say anything about the character's emotional insights and True sight could have easily been cast at another moment.

Some moments have been adapted beautifully but they ended up reminding me what is lacking. Arms outstretched has great pacing that I had come to expect from the team. But compare that to Magnus's sacrifice and its just... nonexistant.

There was a way to trim down suffering game to fit it and the reunion tour that didn't require cutting every interesting sacrifice.

Now the reunion tour... what a mess. they cut out our narrator to show our plane being cut off, but this section dearly needed some narrative guiding. So much running back and forth in time and locations to make it run smoother but again, they needed a whole restructuring. Which some parts got but for all the wrong reasons.

I was happy that they cut the whole act with Magnus being dead when they get back to the campus because it barely works in audio form. But instead the campus is cleared because of the storm but then its packed for one panel when Carey and Killian cancel their side mission? why have the side mission at all? I'm assuming to drive Carey's and Magnus's friendship but it is a really clunky addition.

Everyone drinking the voidfish ichor separately is visually and narratively frustrating. It happens on a smaller scale in the show but by this point griffin has taken the reins back of the narrative and guides us through it seamlessly.

Griffin's final narration, has been separated and mutilated for what? it barely exists at all. its been replaced with an odd speech from Lucretia being happy about their return.

Its such a confusing moment to end on when you could have had idk THE ORIGINAL BELOVED ENDING?

"And from those pillars, the Hunger’s armies have begun to manifest, marching outward to raze the world below. It’s the end of the world. Again."

Tldr: bruh just read it, but seriously idk the changes made are clunky and dont make sense. and all the moments that are cut ruin the pacing of the rest of the book. It's especially confusing as this is probably one of the most straightforward arcs since petals to the metal and it is the most confusing adaption.