#a cricket in time square

[brimstone-cowboy]

Was looking through my old art, I still really like this Cricket in Times Square piece

[magpie-to-the-morning]

When you were a kid were you also obsessed with the idea of being tiny and using dollhouse furniture and other repurposed found objects both natural and man-made?

[tomoleary]

Garth Williams “The Cricket in Times Square” (1960)

[animatejournal]

Yankee Doodle Cricket Director: Chuck Jones | USA, 1975

[whats-in-a-sentence]

So the three friends hopped, scuttled and padded across to Tucker's home, where a fine farewell feast was held.

"The Cricket in Times Square" - George Selden

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

ADHD Brain Moods™ (Derogatory Edition)

well, i got uuuuh four (4) sentences written of my ~Revisions~ today (i’m straight up not having a good time over here), but i DID jot down some classifications of the ADHD Brain Moods™ (Derogatory Edition), so have those instead internet:

>> “My brain is full of static” -- There’s nothing going on in there but ineffective Noise and it’s hell; I’m halfway to dissociated and everything is stupid and I Don’t Want To Be Here.

>> “My brain is full of spiders” -- Altogether too many legs; jerky, predatory, and agitated; itchy but can’t find the right spot to scratch for relief, Generally Irritated and Irritable

>> “My brain is full of crickets” -- Superficially seems quieter and level in there, but out of the blue we’ll SPRING to something totally unrelated and unexpected and we won’t get our scheduled shit done (or: Impulsive As Fuck)

[cats2000s]

Cricket in Times Square 🐱

[quickdudes]

I love Chester C. Cricket

[tenth-sentence]

Harry shouted that Chester should take care of himself – Tucker told him not to worry about the Bellinis, he would look after them – and Chester just kept chirping good-bye as long as he could.

"The Cricket in Times Square" - George Selden

[princess-unipeg]

Celebrating the first day of Christmas watching Christmas specials I haven’t seen before

[delxenofic]

the cricket in times square films aren't available to watch online like anywhere.... i found this collection of chuck jones' filmography on the internet archive but oh my gosh the quality of them is just horrendous and a very merry cricket is not on there anyhow. sad :(

[sunnyskies281]

IF YOU GET RID OF CONNECTICUT WHERE IS CHESTER THE CRICKET GONNA LIVE

[inkskinned]

we heard that you were very disappointed in us both as a generation and specifically as a generation of women (emphasis yours), how we had let ourselves go and now we were slutty and ill-tempered and holding onto notions of feminism like "having a savings account" and "equality."

we were very sorry about it, we didn't realize. it is very hard for you, in your life, because your entire definition was centered around the word providing, and that's a really vague and undulating word. it is hard to be a provider. for your purposes, the word provider here can be defined as "having a job", although it sometimes also extends to "doing yard work", "grilling on occasion," and "knowing basic car anatomy."

we had to do some reading but we divided it out. do not worry. high-value women will fill in the rest of the gaps of your life - all those silly feminine things like doing the dishes. we didn't realize we had asked too much when we asked you to pick up after yourself. we did not realize you were rendered small and scared and crying about the possibility of doing the laundry. here is a joke to lighten the sentiment: a man that listens when you talk to him.

we heard about how we had fallen from glory and it sickened us and made us very, very sad. lindsey had to cut all her hair off and tara threw up. we lit one million candles and we are going to have a vigil about it tonight. all of the people in this world that you do not approve of are going to be there and we will all be in mourning colors because we have lost your respect which is of course the only thing that any of us were looking for.

we searched around our bedrooms and our closets and for some of us it took a while but we all found the pricetag that we were originally born with, the one that gave our listing offer, the one that smells like rot and pine needles. we were horrified because many of us had taken deductions and hadn't realized it. i had scraped my knees and decided to be a lesbian so they had to take my voicebox out so i could never call home again. janice had been with too many people overall so we had to put her into the big squisher that will hopefully collapse her walls so that when you're with her, you'll feel so big and powerful. it will be like you're conquering something instead of being close with someone.

we are all going to the funeral of feminism and we will tear at our bodies and fall over ourselves. we will invite you onstage for a live recording of your podcast about the occasional minor inconvenience of self-reflection. you will talk about how we have targeted you and made you feel the sweat slick down your back, and we will teach you basic self-defense out of solidarity.

do not worry, we are seeing to all the outliers. taylor asked to be taken seriously so we have shipped her off to prison. laura asked you to accept her femininity regardless of her presentation. you will be happy to hear all women are now and forever going to have to be small and thin and pretty and white and ablebodied and quiet and unassuming and ladylike, which is different than how society has previously told us to act.

i am going to have to shave off my jawline, which is a little masculine, and they are going to have to reshape my hands, which are very square and thick - all the work i've done with them has made their veins stand out, so we're just going to have to exsanguinate me. i am horrified to have been out in public like this.

we are going to sit around the campfire and we will talk about being weird little girls that made potions in pink teacups. we will talk about the first time we made a difference. we will talk about the private lives of crickets, and then, at the stroke of three in the morning (the witching hour, obviously) - we will all promptly shut up.

and this will be your beautiful world. this silence that spans every corner of every street and every zoom meeting and every alley. i do not think you'll notice at first - it will be the same as every television show and movie and book. we will all just simply sit there in our doll dresses and smile blithely at your advances and none of us will do you the dishonor of answering and none of us will appear to be in distress and none of us will nag you or make a fuss or get hysterical about it. it will just be quiet, and you will say finally, some peace for once! and we will smell of smoke and our teeth will be white and the next day will come.

tonight we are going to bury the last little bits of our humanity. you are not invited. it is going to be ugly.

[bangtanficsforyou]

Hello, Love! (JJK)- 01

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don't know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister's fiance wasn't it.

Word count: 2K (approx)

Warning: mentions of drug addiction, familial neglect.

The ring fits Jungkook as if it was meant just for him. Not one bit tight nor is it one bit loose. Snug around his finger as if it has always belonged there.

A round of applause breaks out and he looks at the smiling faces of his family and that of his soon to be in law's. 

As the cheers and claps die down, he takes it as his queue. His hand makes it’s way to his pocket. However, when he is not met with a small square jewellery box, he immediately checks his other pocket. That pocket, too, disappoints him. 

He looks up awkwardly at his fiancee and tries to give her a reassuring smile. Now checking for the pockets of his trousers, he fumbles around to somehow make the box appear out of thin air. 

Realising that he is running out of time, he turns towards Jimin. “Jimin, did I not give you the ring box on our way here?” 

Jimin looks at Jungkook with eyes wide like that of a newborn baby. “No, you didn't.”

“Yes, I did,” Jungkook claims with more surety than he actually feels inside. 

“When?!”

“When we were outside–”

“You were talking on the phone—”

“And, I gave it to you while—”

“Here,” Riya offers, with the small red box resting on her palm. Before Jungkook can ask, she answers, “I found it lying on the floor of our balcony.”

Jungkook gives an awkward chuckle in response, trying to play it off. “Jimin has become very careless these days.”

Before Jimin can protest and defend himself, Jungkook shoots him a look that somehow shuts him up. 

Jungkook doesn't waste another minute before taking the ring out and putting it on Riya's fingers. The sooner it is done, the lesser are the chances of running into any other bumps on the road.

Another similar round of applause breaks out and Jungkook heaves a sigh of relief. 

The engagement is done. 

“Dad,” Jungkook greets cheerfully as he takes a seat.

“Hmm,” his soon to be father in law doesn't bother looking up as his eyes remain occupied with the official documents he's currently working on. 

Jungkook remains unfazed by the lack of enthusiasm and continues. “You know I'm currently discussing a project with Mr. Elgin, right?’’

“Hmm.”

“And well I was telling him how I'm about to marry your daughter Riya Roy.”

“I see.”

“Do you know the praises he sang for you?”

Now that somehow catches his dear soon to be father-in-law's attention. 

“Did he?” He interlaces his fingers, and relaxes against the chair, temporarily discarding the documents in the process.

“Yes!” Jungkook nods excitedly. “He was telling me how well you would display and advertise your designs to potential investors during the early business days.” 

“What else did he say?” he muses.

“He also told me how well you have single handedly managed the business. How you started it from scratch and made it what it is today.” 

The older man lets out a chuckle. “It doesn't sound too odd for someone to praise me for advertising my clothes in a clothing line business or for working hard when I am the one who started it.”

There's a brief pause where Jungkook seemingly processes the words.

“Now tell me, how much money do you need?” 

Oh. 

Now, it's Jungkook who lets out a chuckle, albeit an awkward one. “You haven't even listened to what he said on learning that you're planning on expanding your business.”

“Trust me, I don't need to know,” comes the reply. “You tell me the amount, I need to get back to work.”

Jungkook considers his options then in the blink of an eye, his whole demeanour changes. “You know how I almost have the contract for this year's cricket world cup?” 

Much like earlier, the man hums. 

“However, suddenly, they have raised the bid by six million.” 

“So you need six million dollars?” 

Jungkook nods, hoping that the amount doesn’t sound as big as it is. 

There’s a pause and then there’s a low hum in response. “Did you return the one million dollar you had taken from Riya?”

“Well I almost have. There’s only a little left to pay back.”

“How much are you yet to pay?”

Sometimes, Jungkook wishes he knew how to read this man a little better. His father in law, undoubtedly, is every bit of the businessman you’d think of him to be. He thinks like a businessman, walks like one and talks like one in every sense possible. 

Jungkook knows that one would never find this man speaking one word, that is not required. And that just makes it all the more difficult to ever get a hint of what his father in law is thinking. 

Sometimes, Jungkook thinks speaking to this man is the equivalent of playing chess with a computer. You’d never know what the next move will be but you can rest assured, that you'll never outsmart them. 

“Some two hundred thousand.”

“That’s the amount you are yet to pay?”

Jungkook pretends he hadn’t heard the question properly, the first time. “Uhm, no that’s the amount I have paid.”

“So what’s the amount you are yet to pay?”

“Eight hundred thousand—,” he replies and then quickly adds, “—but I will pay everything back as soon as the contract is finalised.”

“Sure,” his father in law nods, not buying his words. "I'll need some time to think about it."

“Listen, no matter what, I anyhow, need a meeting to be scheduled with Mr.Shro—I don’t care what his manager is saying about him being busy.”

The wind blows at a steady pace and somewhere in the lobby, a toddler shrieks in joy. 

“Mail his manager as many times as you need to. Just refuse to accept no as an answer.”

Poor Sam, Jimin thinks, pitying the poor boy who didn’t know what he was signing up for when he agreed to be Jungkook’s manager. 

“Yes, yes! Mail them again—not now Jimin!”

Unfortunately, Jimin doesn’t seem to catch the hint and taps him on his back, again. 

“What is it Jim—”, only it is not Jimin. “Sam, I’ll get back to you later.” 

“You asked dad for money.”

Uh oh. Jungkook could tell Riya wasn’t in the brightest of moods, but nothing could have prepared Jungkook for this. 

“Riya why don’t we take this inside?” Jungkook suggests, keeping his voice soft and calm. He hadn’t thought much of it when he was screaming at his manager left and right in the balcony, for everyone to hear. But an arguement between the freshly engaged couple, might just not be that ideal.

“Jungkook, do you not have any self respect?”

I do, in fact that is why I am asking you to move this inside, Jungkook thinks to himself. Instead of speaking the words out, he again, mildly tries to guide her inside a room. 

Riya, however, remains adamant on not cooperating with him. “You tell me, Jungkook, how can i respect a man who has zero self respect?”

“You do—”

“You know what keep your ring, I don’t want it.” In the blink of an eye, the ring that had almost managed to cause a commotion merely a few hours ago, now rests on Jungkook’s palm, again. 

“Riya, what is your problem?” Long gone is the calmness Jungkook was trying so hard to keep. Now, he sounds extremely confused and perhaps frustrated. 

“My problem is the fact that I cannot marry a man who has zero self—”

“It’s not self respect that I lack! Its ego!” Jungkook snaps. “If I know asking for help could get me the opportunity that I have worked so hard for, why shouldn’t I? Plus, it’s not like I have ever failed to pay back.”

There’s a beat of silence, where Jungkook tries to regain his composure. “I don’t understand Riya, the years when you were struggling to make it into the industry, I supported you in every way I could. So now that I'm the one who’s facing struggles, why can’t you find it in yourself to do the same?”

Something in Riya softens at the mention of all the times, Jungkook stood by her side like a rock. Every penny Jungkook earned was spent on Riya’s then struggling career. Lord knows, there were times when she felt like giving up but Jungkook wouldn’t let her. When she lost faith, Jungkook would believe in it for both of them. 

She inhales shakily and looks at the ring and it somehow manages to ground her to why she said yes to Jungkook in the first place. 

“And if it bothers you so much, I won't ask dad for money.”

She nods and then gently takes the ring from Jungkook. It's in that gentle touch of her's that Jungkook knows things are settled, at least for the time being. 

“I'll go look for Mili aunty, I heard she was looking for me,” Riya says, and somehow the abrupt end of argument doesn't surprise Jungkook, in the least. 

As Riya walks back inside, Jungkook releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He finds it a little difficult to believe that Riya almost broke off the engagement. Although he probably shouldn’t be so surprised. 

Over the years, Jungkook has become very familiar with Riya’s habit of breaking up with him at the slightest inconvenience. Now that they are engaged, breaking up means...well, calling off the engagement. 

Arguments with Riya are always like this, short lived but very frequent. Riya would state the reasons why she thinks this won’t work and all the reasons why Jungkook is wrong and then Jungkook would have to remind her of all the reasons as to why the both of them have stuck together for so long. 

Maybe it has always been like this, be it for Riya’s career, or for their relationship, Jungkook has always kept faith on behalf of the both of them when Riya couldn’t. 

Perhaps securing the deal he's currently working on, would finally give Riya the reassurance that she's looking for. Well, he sure hopes so because if this contract doesn't, Jungkook doesn't know what will. 

Getting this deal has the potential of turning you into the equivalent of Leonardo DiCaprio of the event organisation industry. There's simply no looking back from then on. You'd have career stability, money and a reputation among your peers. 

It's probably everything a woman looks for in the man, they are marrying. 

So yeah, he genuinely hopes that he can prove himself to be capable and can put rest to this constant breaking up and patching up cycle the two of them have found themselves in, for years. 

And he's definitely going to give his best, even if that means being rude to his innocent, sweet, doe-eyed manager. 

Chapter two will be up on my Patreon on early access by the end of this week!

[whats-in-a-sentence]

"Maybe next summer we could go to the country."

"The Cricket in Times Square" - George Selden

[asunflowerana]

sunday couple — satoru gojo

summary: Satoru does anything for good and cheap food, especially making you his girlfriend.

warnings: satoru is on his early twenties, friends to lovers, lots of banter, gojo smooth like butter. wc: 1400+

a/n: satoru could take me to eat crickets, and I'd still follow this stupid gorgeous man.

The red, and yellow lamps hanging on poles illuminate Shibuya’s central square, crowded with citizens scouring the fair full of assorted supplies. The smell of cardamom powder from a spice stall enters your nostrils, making your nose numb as you try to follow your friend Satoru, the one who left you behind for a taiyaki seller. 

You never thought you’d be traded for a fish cake, but here you are. 

Satoru checks the pockets of his pants in front of him, taking the coins and handing them to the friendly old lady owner of the sweets. She gives him one small cake, and you can almost see him salivating with the piece of sugar in his hands. 

“Your grandma taught you to share, Toru.” You counter with arms crossed, at the same time as he fills his mouth with a good bite of cake, the chocolate ganache sticking out to the sides and smearing his fingers. He breathes in pure relief, and you wonder how hungry he really was since you both went outdoors. 

“It’s too small for two.” He has the courage — stupidity is better — to eat the last piece of the taiyaki in front of you, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the remains of bran and stuffing after that. You could cut his white hair right there. 

“Then buy me another one,Toru! I’m hungry too!" 

”Sweets aren’t good for your teeth, little ______.“ He sends you his special sunny grin, moving his hand to call you closer, his black jacket hanging loose on his shoulders. "C'mon, I’ll find you a diner. My treat.”

His smooth manner almost makes you forget for a moment that he had just refused to share that sweet with you. Not even a little apology, what a goon.

“You better,” Mumbling, you join his pace, walking right beside him as you both stroll through the park.

You were supposed to be at home watching the six-hour marathon of your favorite comedy show, but Satoru showed up at your door in the afternoon, puppy eyes asking you to help him pick out a present for Shoko’s birthday next week, and you couldn’t say no. Not only because you wanted her to have something nice, but because unfortunately, Satoru has a special power over your heart, that makes you want to say yes even if he shows up at 4 AM in the morning for a bike ride through town — which actually happened once, but that’s a story for another time. 

He had this infuriating power since third grade, when both became neighbors and he decided to kick a soccer ball right to your window, giving you quite the fright. You can remember the way you threw the ball on his chest, mad at the crazy boy who didn’t stop laughing and left without a single scratch. 

The crazy boy that owns a part of your heart, a part that you wish could be noticed by him. But Satoru has always been too unpredictable to read, especially when it comes to his emotions. 

A new smell, fried fish and miso soup catch your attention, and a man in his forty approaches you both, coming out of a small but attractive restaurant, izakaya type. He wears casual clothes, portraying a very large smile and belly. 

“Come close young couple, here at Goro’s house you’ll find Shibuya’s best of the best food to fill your hungry tummies, ho ho ho-” You both look at each other with the same frown on your faces. Does this man think you’re in kindergarten? 

Well, Satoru actually has the face, but anyway. 

“...and lucky for you, today is a couple's Sunday!” This caught your attention. 

“What do you mean by "lucky for us”, sir?“ The man’s eyes pop even more open, excited for more clients. 

"Every Sunday couples only pay half for the dinner combo! Here is on our board.” He points at the medium black slate place beside an array of plants at the izakaya’s entrance. 

“COUPLE’S SUNDAY: 50% OFF FOR COUPLES BUYING THE SPECIAL GORO’S FISH COMBO." 

"Wait,” Satoru gulps down, his hands almost trembling from such good news. “So couples really pay half for dinner?” 

He abruptly catches your hand in his, his warmth heating your skin and making your heart flutter in response. “Because we totally are!” He practically shouts that, with a huge grin on face like a kid spotting a candy store. He looks at you, shining marine eyes gazing at yours with excitement. 

“Right, baby?" 

You don’t even know how to react, completely shocked by the nickname that you’ve always daydreamed of him calling you. The way it comes out of his mouth, with his voice, it’s such a precious moment, you can’t believe it’s all for a ridiculous excuse to get a food discount. Before you realize your situation, you’re already seated by a diner table, your friend on the opposite chair in front of you, his goofy smile still on his face as he checks the menu.

His hand remains holding yours on the table, and you can already feel the sweat forming on your palm from the heat and your nerves.

"What… in the world just happened?” You blurt it out, confused as ever.

“Told you I’d buy you dinner, dear  _____. And guess what?” He leans his torso towards you, his chest pressing on the wooden table keeping you both apart. “They have free dorayakis for dessert." 

Rainbows could come out of him by now. 

”But we’re not a couple, you dumb!“ You hiss, leaning just the same as he did, worried that the customers around might notice your facade. 

”I know, we’ll just keep pretending and it’ll all be good.“ Satoru is really good at acting, talking to you like he was babbling sweet praises like those dorky clingy couples. 

He’s such a tease, and he doesn’t even know. Actually, you think he does know it.”Toru, this is not a—" 

A waiter comes to your table, making you both split from your previous position and sit right in your seats. From his trail, he places on the table bowls of udon, plates of unagi, portions of tempura, and green tea. The smell from the steam coming out of the dishes is so amazing, that the only thing your brain processes now is food.

“You were saying?” Satoru playfully questions, thanking the waiter before picking up his chopsticks and digging the thick noodles before him. 

“…..Fine.” You surrender, not really having the strength to refuse this. “But if there’s only one dorayaki later, it’s mine." 

"We can share." 

”But sweets aren’t good for your teeth, little Satoru.“ You mock him right after sucking a noodle into your mouth, the food tasting much better now that you can see his speechless face scrunching up. 

"That’s totally unfair!” He protests, crossing his arms with a pout, a piece of nori on the corner of his mouth. “I’m your boyfriend, you should treat me nice." 

You wish your heart wouldn’t beat so fast. 

But since you’re both pretending, you may as well enjoy it. "First lesson for you: don’t ever let your girlfriend be hungry. Ever." 

"If I give you all of my tempura, will you share the dorayaki?” You hum, pretending to think. “C'mon now, baby! I’m sorry, okay?”

“I’ll think about it.”

In the end, you let him have a good bite of dessert, which is kinda fair since he was the one paying for the whole meal. That dinner really made you heavy, tummy full of food, completely satisfied and pleased. You even wrote down the name of the place, to come back with your friends in another opportunity.

And it seems that your friend also had a similar idea. 

“Are you free next Sunday?” He asks, walking ahead of you, his gaze facing the starry sky as he ponders something alone. 

You know sometimes he likes to venture ahead to ease his mind when there’s something on it, so you don’t mind him going a few feets ahead, knowing he’s still aware of your surroundings even if you’re behind him.

Satoru never failed to protect you. 

“You’re not planning on doing the dating story again, right?” You chuckle, sensing that this will become a Sunday routine for both of you. “They’ll start suspecting if we keep coming every week, you know we’re not really dating.”

“Then let’s date for real.” And again, he turns his wholesome blue gaze towards you, offering another one of the famous, breathtaking Satoru’s grins. But in this case, this one is reserved only for you. 

“How about that?”

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