#a jar of cool dead bugs

[newts-and-sharks]

To the witches of tumblr, I kinda need help

I’m trying to start my connection to Loki, but I don’t know how to start. I’ve got the altar set up, I have electric candles in place of real ones (temporary/I plan to buy real ones in the future), but I don’t know how to start this all out. What do I do?

[beaft]

when i first moved in here this room was full of junk. now it's still full of junk, but in, like, a cool, aesthetic way.

(god help me when i move out and have to somehow pack all this stuff away again)

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Hi, Mutt anon here again. :3

Silly request idea with Garcia & lil bro! Reader. Totally not self-indulged lol.

———

A bit of background for Reader's character;

Reader is an absolute crow child (a person who tends to act like a crow, collecting anything shiny and things that interest him. It could be anything, literally, even Garcia's stuff or things around the house in general).

Known for bringing random things inside, collecting anything he can and finds interesting enough to collect. Including things that probably should not be collected. Alive, dead, inanimate objects you name it and R has it. I can honestly imagine R having a small enclosure for small bugs, maybe a sealed glass jar self-sustaining ecosystem that he made like over four years ago and it still thrives. Also absolutely some bug framing and bone collecting.

But the initial request to that is how would Garcia in your opinion react to the reader being a "crow child"?

———

Anyways, thank you in advance. Please, don't feel pressured to write this and feel free to decline if you feel like it! :3 I hope you have a nice day, please remember to take care of yourself.

— Mutt anon

I'm so sorry about there being a bit of a delay between this fic and the last one I posted! It's not super long but I wanted to post something. Things have been a bit stressful but in a low-key way if that makes sense. Any who, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of a raccoon skull.

“Oh my god, what is that?” Penelope asks as you burst into her office, Morgan smirking trailing behind you.

“I found a raccoon skull!” You exclaim, showing her, “How cool is that?”

“This is- where did you even find this?!”

“At the park,” You give a small shrug, placing the skull on your sister’s desk. “It’s gonna look great next to the rat skull on my drawers.”

“You… you actually scare me,” Penelope said, before turning to Morgan, pointing her fluffy pen at him. “And you, why did you let him touch it?”

“It’s dead, it’s not gonna do anything.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it.” She turned back to you, “What else did you find?”

She knew full well there would be more.

“Well, I found more pull-tabs so I grabbed them.” You said, pulling out a handful, “But I found this really cool coin,” 

You show Penelope, she furrows her eyebrows, having seen the coin before. If only she could put her finger on it…

“That’s mine,” Derek’s jaw drops slightly, staring at the coin in your hand. 

“Finders keepers,”

“No, theft.” Morgan grinned, swiping the coin from you.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

More childish Daryl because we all love his big little shit self and his little shit attitude

and more of Rick being a victim as well as a little piece of shit

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

There weren’t many things life that you were afraid of anymore besides dying. or your loved ones dying. Oh and every form of insect left on the planet.

“Daryl Dixon take that thing back outside and the fuck out of my house!” You yell in horror when your husband comes sprinting into the house with a large and exotic bug cupped in his hands, holding it out to you excitedly. “Look at it though!”

“Very, very nice my love… Uhh,” Your eyes dart nervously around. “Here! Put it in here for safe keeping” You grab a jar and push it towards Daryl, staying as far away from him as he would let you, which wasn’t very far. “He’s gon die in there” Daryl mumbled, shifting on his feet.

You sigh. “He won’t outside. Y’know, where he lives?”

“But I ain’t ever seen this bug ‘fore” Daryl pouted slightly.

“Daryl. Please.” You give a soft but stern look.

The man frowned, dropping his gaze down to his new friend as he walked him back out the door. “Fine.”

You sighed in relief watching the archers wings disappear behind the creaky slam of your front door, out onto the Alexandria streets to terrorize the community. But you didn’t know that part.

Over at Carol’s house, she lounges comfortably on her porch swing, a real good and captivating book in one hand, a cooling, untouched cup of coffee in the other. She’s so invested in the story that she doesn’t even feel Daryl’s presence behind her, totally not coaxing his new friend off his palm and onto her shoulder, watching as the strange bug crawled down her arm slowly.

At first she didn’t feel it, finally taking her first sip out the mug after hovering it for so long. When she moves to place the cup down, glints of iridescent purples and blues catches her eye, and she glances at her sleeve.

“Jesus! What the fuck!? What the fuck!?” She hollers, tossing her book and shooting to her feet, flailing to get the bug off of her. When she pauses to glance around, in search of the little pest so that she could squish the fucker, she finds it crawling on another, much larger pest. “When I get my hands on you, you are so dead” Carol fires daggers at Daryl, who holds the insect with a victorious smile. “Don’ threaten him”

“I’m threatening you. Also ‘him’?” Carol rolled her eyes, and moved further when Daryl took a few steps towards the porch. “I found him by the wall but Y/n ain’t let me keep it”

“I applaud her for dealing with you, now shoo. You’ve completely ruined my reading time” The woman sighs and sits back down on the swing, picking her book off the floor. “Where’s Rick?” Daryl quipped, turning and scanning the area. Carol watched him quietly, a smile tugging her lips. It felt like only yesterday that the hunter was nothing but a locked box, never opening up or showing any form of emotion. Now, he was practically bouncing off the walls, more of a rowdy kid than anything else. It made Carol a little sad, knowing that Daryl never got to chance to be the rambunctious kid he was born to be.

She watched as he walked away, bug in hand and wings on his back. There was a first time for everything, she supposes.

Of course, this saying is true, because this is the first time Daryl is really putting his ass on the line. He bit back the evil smile creeping on his face as his eyes landed on his victim, who shamelessly flirting with his wife, totally oblivious to everyone else around him. Rick was rambling and yapping to Michonne, not taking his eyes off hers for a second as he spoke.

She smiled and nodded, listening and digesting whatever he was saying, occasionally adding commentary of her own. It was a casual conversation, and Michonne had started to move to kiss Rick, him doing the same and shutting his eyes in anticipation-

“Fuck! Fuck! The fuck?!” He yelled, jerking away from his wife and reaching a hand to his back, patting aimlessly around for the strange crawling sensation on him. “What’s on me?!” Rick spun around, and Michonne screamed. “Oh hell no! Nope! Nope!” The woman backed away, and as she did she spotted Daryl, as did Rick.

“Dixon!” Rick’s voice rang out through the community, followed by heavy running feet mere seconds later.

Daryl cackled as he ran from Rick, taunting him and mocking the mans angry shouts and insults. Also threats.

“You are so fucking dead Daryl!” Rick yelled from behind him, trying to increase his speed to get closer behind Daryl, who had no reason being as fucking fast as he was. “Please don’ shoot meh officer!” Daryl fake cooed, laughing but it was cut short by Rick ultimately deciding to take a leap of faith, crashing right into the hunterman, who almost instantly tightened all his limbs around Rick.

The men grunted and squabbled in the middle of the street, yelling and screaming at each other. “Stop it you dicksucker tha’ hurts!” Daryl wailed and kicked at Rick, who was twisting his leg. “Dicksucker? Must be missin’ the countryside huh Dixon?” Rick grumbled, releasing the kicking limb and latching onto Daryl’s arm, punching it when holding it down didn’t work. “Ain’t nothin miss ‘bout it, except ya wasn’t there” The man grunted, bringing his other arm up and grabbing onto a fist full of Rick’s curly hair, pulling on the strands. The man let out a pained yell, reflexively reaching his hand up to pry Daryl’s hand off, but that just let his other arm free.

When Daryl had slung his arm around Rick’s neck, bicep already tightly wrapped and flexed around it, the familiar creaking of a door caught his attention, turning his head to take in the house that they were fighting in front of. Your house.

Rick gasped for air when Daryl dropped him, coughing and about to take a swing at him when he also turned his head, both males now being stared down by you. Daryl more than ever.

“When I told you to take the bug outside, I meant back to where you got it, not on a tour around the fucking community.” You spat, arms folded over your chest. Daryl hung his head embarassedly, heat rising to his cheeks at the scolding. “Sorry mama”

“And you,” You looked at Rick, “You need to stop further provoking him because look how it ends each time” Rick furrowed his brows, “But he came to me first!” Pointing at the archer next to him. “Rick I don’t give a damn if chicken or egg came to you first” You rolled your eyes. “But-“ “No. This? This is very much over. You? You are very much in trouble.” You cut Rick off, descending the short steps and tugging Daryl off the ground by his vest, pushing him to go up the porch and into the house. “You? I’ll be letting Michonne know to keep you attached to her hip. Let’s go, Grimes”

Once you promptly delivered Michonne her loose dog, you made your way back to your house to deal with your own, sighing when the door shut behind you. Your eyes flickered over to Daryl, who was nervously sat on the couch.

“M’really sorry” He mumbled when you moved to stand over him, hands on your hips. “I didn’t wanna put him back”

“Daryl, you can’t just go around harassing people with bugs.” You shake your head at him, biting down on the inside of your cheek when Daryl shamefully looked away, face turning a shade of red. “But it was funny”

You sigh, “For you. Daryl, baby, some people are really afraid of bugs. I’m some people. Those things freak me the fuck out” reaching your hand down to lift his head up, brushing hair out his face. There were hints of guilt written on it, and you smiled softly.

“Hey, nobody’s mad at you, okay? You just have to be a little more aware of the small things” You kissed his forehead, once, twice, thrice, still smiling down at his flushed face. “Mama loves you” You whisper, and it cracks a small smile on Daryl’s lips, heart doing somersaults. “Love ya too” You kiss his head one more time, giving him a final on his lips before standing straight again. “Now that that’s over, I’m making something I think you’ll like” Your voice fades into the kitchen, Daryl following you. “Let m’guess; steak” He joked, but blinked when he peered over your shoulder. “I remember a very skilled hunter once telling me that ‘deer asses are tha’ best’”

“They are, ‘nd tha’s ‘bout to be tha’ best fuckin’ steak of m’life” Daryl bumped his hip against yours, playful smile tugging his lips. “Alright now. Don’t get rowdy in my kitchen” You eye him from the side, bumping his hip back as you lit the stove, using makeshift oil to butter the pan. Daryl slid a hand around your waist, kissing your shoulder before dropping his head there, mumbling a tiny “Sorry mama” next to your ear. You can’t help the smile the spreads on your lips, placing just one more kiss to the top of Daryl’s head.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I think that ‘baby’ and ‘mama’ are like really cute for outside of the bedroom, it’s intimate while not being too explicit if that makes sense

me fighting my urge to explain how Daryls mommy kink spews much deeper than you guys think

each time i typed mama i kept imagining a furby saying it

anways your honor my babyboy is innocent

[honey-minded-hivemind]

gnarp Gnarp parents!

I imagine Reader's species are kinda genderless in genetic terms(that or they're like snails), so you can interpret the Gnarp Gnarp parents however you want

Big pink is based on Mantis and Moths/butterflies

Green bean is based on Grasshoppers/Lotus' and ants

AAAAAAAHHHHHH! I WANT TO HUG THEM AND GIVE THEM HONEY AND NECTAR AND LITTLE BISCUITS AND COOKIES!!!!

Mama Gnarp is awesome! Her wings, her arms, her fearsome fangs and glowing eyes and generally large, intimidating self- (I wonder what her name should be? Something fierce, or sweet? Would it be a type of bug, or flower, or dangerous plant?)

Papa Gnarp is a dapper fellow! Sharp joints, strong claws, mandibles, amd extra thick chitin, he's a strong boi! (He'd have a strong name or something dorky/sweet, be it bug or flower or dangerous plant)

And together, they made Gnarp Gnarp Reader, the fierce little beetle-looking bby! Reader gets the best of both of them! (So extra strong, super hard chitin/shell/exoskeleton, string mandible and horn and claws, four arms, springy legs, wings, etc.)

(Oooooo... I love them. What are they like? What do Gnarp Gnarps do? Pollinate diffent planets? Bring dead ones back to life? Take over planets amd ads them to to vast colony/hive/brood? Some strange mix of all of those?)

(What did Mama and Papa Gnarp do for a living? Where were they in the hierarchy? And did they have Reader on their own, or are they actually, somehow, Scott or Jean's kid too? Or some other alien villain thing's kid, like the Brood or the Phoenix Force?)

(These two are perfect. Mama Gnarp looks like a moth I have in my bug collection!) (It's a small collection, but so far I have: a honey bee, a bumblebee, a moth, a spider, and a hornet, I think? I did have a spider, but... it didn't preserve well) (it liquefied, which was... bleugh, to clean up) (I'm an amateur at this, I just pick up already dead buggy fellows, then store them in my jars and bags) (I did collect a cicada shell one time) (they're cool)

[valentine6athena]

Dabi with a Witch s/o

This is my first time posting on here but I’m a witch and the burnt boi brainrot is REAL

CW: 18+ dom! Reader, sub! Character, witchcraft, love spells, 🍃, violence, curses/hexes, wax play, chastity cages, milking,

He’s so confused when you tell him you’re a witch 😭 he’s like ‘huh??? Like you mean your quirk??’ But once you explain it to him he doesn’t really care tbh.

Doesn’t understand why he’s so infatuated with you?? He honestly thinks you cast a love spell on him and you’re like ‘Nah hon, I’m just that good.’

Once y’all actually get together he’s at your beck and call, need something for a ritual? He’s already digging through your kitchen looking for it. Need to light a candle? He’s got a fire quirk for a reason. And if you accidentally spill some hot wax on his chest well then that’s just a bonus 🤷‍♀️

Shigaraki asks what that weird design sewed into his jacket is, he simply shrugs and replies ‘dunno, guess my s/o got bored.’ You overhear and decide that he doesn’t need to know that ‘weird design’ is a protection sigil to keep him safe during battle.

Is very confused when he finds a jar sealed with wax in his jacket pocket, so he looks up the ingredients that he can see inside and does not like the way his stomach fills with butterflies when he reads that they’re common ingredients in protection and good luck spells.

After constantly joking about it, you ask if you can actually put a love spell on him to strengthen yalls bond, he agrees because he honestly doesn’t expect it to affect him, not that he doesn’t believe in you or your abilities, but because he already loves you so much, he didn’t believe he could feel anymore love for you than he already did.

And plus he’s not gonna complain when you have him on his back, writhing under you as you you milk him for all he’s worth because you need his cum for the spell, he’s so fucked out after it that he can’t even remember you asking him in the first place.

So imagine his surprise when he suddenly can’t breathe when you’re not in the same room, when he needs you to function normally, he needs you to touch him, to look at him, to talk to him. He’s so needy and he’s so confused…until he sees a little jar sealed with red wax hung from a chain around your neck, right next to the key to his cock cage..

Is very confused when you hand him a drink after he’d been bitchy all day, it’s pretty, with a lime and orange slice floating in it, after taking a sip he visibly perks up before completely downing it all in one go, he looks at you with quirked brow and asks what your witchy ass cooked up this time, you look at him with a smirk and reply ‘just a lil thing I like to call my moody Judy potion.’ He looks at you with a dead stare before huffing and you catch a glimpse of a smile as he rolls his eyes and hugs you from behind.

He looks at you questioningly as you massage some kind of oil into your scalp and around your third eye, he asks you what it’s for, and you reply that it’s for easing nightmares before asking if he wants some, he says sure, cause hey, any excuse for a free head massage, and is pleasantly surprised when he sleeps like a log. He refuses to admit it, but that’s probably the best he’s slept in years.

Thinks it’s weird that you put lavender in your blunt before rolling it and taking a hit, so he leans over and puts his mouth over yours as you exhale the smoke. So yeah long story short, lavender is his favorite scent now cause it reminds him of you.

Is about to get on one knee when you offer to curse endeavor for him, and thinks you look unbelievably sexy sitting in the middle of his apartment, dressed in a skimpy outfit, surrounded by black and red candles, sprinkling dead bugs, nails, vinegar, and poisonous plants on to a picture of his asshole father, and is overjoyed when you ask him to do the honors of lighting the picture ablaze.

Thinks is so cool that you can fuck people up on the battlefield and spiritually

He’s low key scared of you 😭

Like he has watched you bash someones head in with a quartz tower he is not fucking around and finding out

And he witnessed first hand how hard endeavors PR team had to work after that lil curse. He has no doubt that you could kill him with a curse…or hell just one of your big ass crystals and a slingshot would do the trick.

He does love you though, and his fear of you low key makes him horny LMAO

Him helping you light candles and incense my heart-

Loves how you just straight up tell demons and entities to fuck off when you’re cleansing, he’s convinced you have no sense of fear.

He picks up pretty rocks and flowers he thinks you could use in spellwork

[secretly-tword-obsessed]

Noodle's Questions

Hey gigglers! I haven't written a tickle fic in foreverrr, but here is a little something I whipped up. I hope you enjoy! (Teases inspired by @just-a-fluffy-knight)

Fandom: Wonka

Characters: Willy, Noodle

Summary: There is a lot that Noodle doesn't know, and a lot that Wonka can teach her.

Note: This is a tickle fic. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling.

"Willy, I have a question", Noodle posed, sitting up straight. She and Wonka had been lying down next to each other on the candy-grass of Wonka's factory, recovering from the effects of tens of different magical chocolates.

"Yeah?" Wonka responded absent-mindedly, still lying down in a half-doze.

"Well you know how chocolate is brown because of the coco. Well where does white chocolate come from?"

Wonka snickered, "That is a very good question young lady. I guess I'll show you". However, Wonka was making no effort to sit up. Noodle, after patiently waiting for the demonstration for about ten seconds and receiving nothing, poked Wonka's stomach in an attempt to get his attention.

"Willy?"

"EEP! Yes?"

Noodle chuckled at Wonka's response before rolling her eyes. Honestly, Willy could be so weird sometimes. "Willy, the demonstration?"

"Oh, yes", Willy said sheepishly, sitting up, taking off his hat and reaching inside it, pulling out a square of regular milk chocolate and a small jar with what looked like a bee inside. Incredibly confused, Noodle watched as Wonka opened the jar and released the bug.

"Watch this", he said with a grin as the bug flew around the chocolate, sprinkling a kind of dust which, after a few moments, turned it white. Noodle's eyes widened in realization, "Ohhhh! That's so cool Willy!"

Wonka smiled, "your welcome", before lying back down.

A few minutes passed before Noodle's inquisitiveness returned.

"Willy?"

"Yeah?"

"What did you see earlier?"

"Huh?"

"You know, earlier when you squeaked. What did you see? Should I be concerned?"

"Ohhh", Wonka said in realization, his cheeks going a little pink. "Nothing Noodle, don't worry about it".

Noodle rolled her eyes, poking him in the stomach again, "Wonkaaaaa".

Willy squeaked just as he had before, causing Noodle to instinctively jump and look up at the sky, trying to find the source of her friend's fright.

Wonka sat up abruptly, "Ok Noodle, you know that curiosity killed the cat"

"What cat?" Noodle asked. Having grown up at Scrubbit's and with no family, there were a lot of things that Noodle didn't know. She could read and write and do mathematics just fine, but had never done anything like play or sing or eat sweets or use silly phrases until she had met Wonka.

Wonka sighed in an exaggerated way - "If you must know, Noodle, I'm just a bit ticklish there"

Noodle raised an eyebrow, "Your what?"

Wonka's cheeks went dark red, "Ya know, ticklish". He perched his knees up before his torso, looking away and pretending to be distracted by something in the distance.

"Ticklish? That doesn't ring a bell". Wonka looked aside at her face for one second, catching that she was dead serious, before turning away again. How could he explain tickling?

"W-well", he stuttered, once again looking away, "It means I'm sensative. Like, if you touch my tummy I might react like that. It's nothing".

Catching on to Wonka's embarrassment, Noodle smirked and thought she might have a little fun.

"Oh, like this?" She poked his stomach again, and he let out and even louder squeak than before, and, in a swift motion, he tackled her over so that she was lying on the grass below him. She screamed from his surprise outburst, but giggled as she saw him sitting above her, looking down at her with the most flushed look she had ever seen.

"Oh, okay, you want to have some fun huh?". Just than, he scribbled all ten of his fingers into Noodle's sides, and, in an instant, she burst into high pitched giggles.

"Willy!", she cried, scrunching up her face and slightly kicking her legs.

"Wo-hoa-hoa", Wonka said, scuttering his fingers across her belly, "I thought you would be ticklish, but this ticklish?"

Noodle giggles got higher pitched as Wonka moved spots, her swatting away lightly at his hands to protect her belly.

"Are you ok with this Noodle?", Wonka asked, wanting to make sure he wasn't crossing any boundaries. Noodle nodded as she continued giggling, before turning onto her side, trapping Willy's hand.

"Hey!", he said, "Get back here Apple Stroodle!". Noodle chuckled at the nickname, before Willy flipped her over again and started gently squeezing her knees. Noodle immediately collapsed into full on belly laughs, rocking back and fourth.

"Ahaha! Willyhyhyhyhy!"

Wonka looked down at her with an evil smirk, "Well well well, looks like I hit a bad spot huh Noodle?"

Noodle's cheeks went red. This was her first time being tickled, and she'd be lying if she said it wasn't fun. She felt completely carefree, as if she was eating one of Wonka's calm musical chocolates, although the accompaniment was her shrieks of laughter. Wonka moved on to reaching under her arms experimentally, and her chest sunk down a bit as her laughter lightened steadily into a trail of giggles. All the while Willy was smiling down at her, the girl's joy infectious, and feeling as happy as can be to see her in such a state.

After a few more seconds, Wonka stopped, afraid she would suffocate otherwise. She continued to giggle with phantom tickles and, once they wore off, she just chuckled, sat up and smiled at Wonka. Than, as if like a lion jumping at her pray, she jumped in to hug him, and this time Wonka's squeak was one of fright. The gesture was unexcepted, but Wonka rubbed her back gently.

When she separated from him, Noodle smiled, "I felt so loved. So connected. So bubbly! Thanks for teaching me about this Wonka, I'll have to tell my mum to do it with me sometime".

Wonka looked away once again, his embarrassment returning to him.

"It was such a silly sensation", she said with a laugh, before lying back down, gesturing Wonka to lie beside her. The older boy leaned back, putting his hands under his head like a pillow.

"Willy?"

"Yeah?"

"Didn't you say you were also ticklish?"

Wonka's eyes widened, and he immediately jumped in the air, running across the candy forest of his factory.

"Hey! Get back here Willy!", Noodle called out, standing up to run after him.

"You can't catch me!", Wonka teased, grabbing a chocolate tree branch and swinging himself up. Noodle ran up to the tree, standing at the bottom as Wonka sat triumphantly on a branch above her.

"Haha, nice try Noodle!"

Noodle rolled her eyes again and smiled, "I'll get you next time Willy!"

"Nu-uh", he responded, "there won't be a next time - I'm staying up in this tree for the rest of my life, I can make chocolate just fine from up here".

Noodle chuckled and rolled her eyes again, "Ok, whatever you say Willy". She knew he would have to come down eventually.

That's it! Thanks for reading (: Hope you liked it.

[trollmaiden]

Things to trade with at the market

Anything with sentimental value

Jewelry

Coins from a dead man’s pocket

Slugs

Jar of tadpoles

Moth and butterfly wings

Shells

Most bugs dead or alive

Cottonwood stars

A lock of hair

Social Security numbers

Riddles

Tears (joy, anger, sadness, etc)

Four leaf clover

Stories / songs

Keys

glass bottles that are funky shapes/cool Colors

Wood cravings

Walnuts, Acorns, cherry pits,

First born children

Broken clocks

Memories

Crystals

Mirrors

Sea glass

Bones

A blade that’s tasted blood

Books with forbidden knowledge

Names

Alder stones / hag stones

Lost things from lakes, bogs, or shores,

Secrets

Flowers from a dead woman’s garden

1-10 years of your life

Terrariums that are at least 10 years old

Feel free to add more ♥︎

[steampunkforever]

I'll be honest and say that just like Dario Argento, if I were to be told to make whatever I wanted after putting out a runaway hit, I would also cast Jennifer Connelly. Unfortunately, Argento's Phenomena (1985) is not really good. Or rather, it's good but not because of Argento.

Before watching it with friends, one member of the group said they were surprised that the film had a 4k restoration until I pointed out it was an Argento film. After watching it with friends, I was surprised it got a 4k restoration even though Argento directed it.

Maybe this is just a pitfall for horror films specifically, but just like the Exorcist, the best part of Phenomena comes in the last 1/3-1/4 of the movie, and the rest of it was just a very long runup that doesn't really matter to the movie.

Phenomena spends most of the movie talking about dreamscapes, bugs, ESP, bugs getting ESP, and laser-guided chimps in ways that have little to do with the actual villain of themes of the film. Like a film from the last decade of Zack Snyder's Filmography, Argento throws a bunch of really cool but ultimately discordant concepts into this movie, and (just like with Snyder) it leads to bloat that does this movie a disservice.

This is (depending on how loose you want to play with the term) a giallo film, and you've got to give it some leeway, but Phenomena needs more charity than it deserves. Is it camp? Yes. But the plot, writing, and direction leave a lot to be desired, even coming from a name like Argento. It's ok Dario, we all have our misses. The laser guided chimp was a good bit, even if it's terrifying seeing one onscreen next to human actors for extended sequences.

All this said, I cannot condemn this movie to the "unwatchables" pile. Not just for all the cool concepts and "good bones" of the movies (starting to sound like a Snyder fanboy here) but because the movie is drop dead gorgeous. For as much as I grouse at the film for its multitude of flaws, the visuals deserve praise. It did in fact earn its 4k restoration, just in ways fully disconnected from Argento's creative genius.

Additionally, every costume in this film absolutely rips. I need to dress like I'm getting murdered by a serial killer targeting a preppy girls school in Switzerland. And the soundtrack, for as jarring as the first 80s metal song hit, is frankly visionary, thanks in part to the music direction of iconic Argento collaborator Goblin.

Though much artsier than Chopping Mall, I find myself grouping the film in much the same boat. Worth the watch despite how bad parts of it are, but not a film I envision myself coming back to except perhaps with friends. Still I suggest any horror fan give it a try, there's some good gore and a fun ending.

[ghostboneswrites2]

rb this post with a random fact about yourself that your followers might find disturbing

I keep dead bugs in a jar if they look cool

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC vs A Cockroach

Omg this is such a funny concept LMAO, thank you so much for the wonderful tag, @doublegoblin!!!

Tagging: @the-mindless, @writernopal, @cabbojage, @oh-no-another-idea, @crowandmoonwriting, @lassiesandiego, @quisyop, @gummybugg, @tabswrites, @clairelsonao3 and @exquisitecrow

Rules: Rate your OCs on how well they’d fare against a cockroach

I'll go with the main cast of Enchanted Illusions for this one!

Cailean Telkerly - 4/10 Once he sees the roach, he'd try to look tough and unbothered to seem cool in front of Agatha at first all like "I can handle this (says he, visibly disturbed and from a considerable distance)". Like, he might - emphasis on might - actually get the situation under control if he can smack the roach with a broom or something from far away.

But then he would fail miserably at it once that mfer roach starts to fly - like the fear is evident, it's a run-for-your-life. He'd leave that room so fast. I give him those 4 out of 10 points solely because he would try to keep it cool before the roach flies. My boi would be jumpier than a cat in the rain like "Nah, man, hell nope, I think this is the bug's house now, let's just move".

Evangeline Daemitya - 10/10, I'm talking about the most nonchalant, cold reaction ever - solely for the fact that, with her magic, she can disintegrate that bug or teleport it away with a snap of her fingers. It surprises people to no end, because they usually expect her to be terrified of bugs due to her noble background but she actually doesn't mind them - she even has one of those weird dead insect collections.

Vincent Sharppe - 8/10 He is the kind of guy to pick the insect up in a jar or piece of paper and set it free far away outside of his home without saying a word, but whose soul would leave his body should the insect touch his skin or start flying around - he'd still spend a week complaining about it either way.

Harriet Sharppe - -2/10 She actually has a deep phobia of insects, so it doesn't go well whenever she sees one in her home, especially if it is a roach. Harriet can handle any kind of monster and dark magic spell thrown her way, but would have a full-on nervous breakdown if she saw a roach in her room, no one runs faster than her in that situation. She won't enter the room until the cockroach is properly terminated (and she has proof of it), which ends up being Vincent's job, because she will not get close to the insect on her own.

Clarence Van Sterlling - 6/10 Would attempt to become friends with a roach. There's a 50% chance that he'll suceed, and a 50% chance the roach will just scuttle away further into the room and never be seen again. Will be heartbroken - for five minutes - when Thaddeus inevitably stomps the cockroach until oblivion.

Thaddeus Lockhill - 11/10 It's as if he senses the roach's presence before it even has the chance to think about flying away. Then it's over. There's no roach, only its squished remains on the floor - which are quickly cleaned up. Thaddeus carries on afterwards like nothing ever happened. This all takes place in a total of ten seconds.

[dersitedreamr]

Dave would not be popular in any sense if he went to a public school. Aside from the fact that he’s a dickhead and purposefully goes out of his way to make himself unapproachable, Dave is weird. As fuck. Everything about him. He spends the first 13 years of his life hyping up puppets and thinking they’re cool. He collects DEAD ANIMALS in JARS. And DISPLAYS them on his shelf like a TROPHY CASE. His apartment is covered in sex toys. His brother works in the adult entertainment industry. He wears sunglasses everywhere.

Imagine going over to his apartment. There is smuppets and weapons all over the floor. No food in the fridge. Then you get into his room and there is a shelf with rows of dead specimen like fish bugs A FETUS. I don’t think it’s any stretch of the imagination an unsuspecting classmate would assume HE killed them and then put them in jars like that which is like. Serial Killer Behavior. 13 year old + Boy + Shaky home life + Loner at school = SERIAL KILLER. They would 100% go back and tell EVERYONE and the rumor would completely spiral out of control, effectively ruining his reputation

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators: Chapter One

Screw schedules. Posting the first chapter of my (very) slow burn Astarion/Tav fic, Feeding Alligators.

Turns out, it’s not heart disease that gets you. Not a car crash, the second coming, or even a plain old slip in the shower that removes you from this mortal coil. It’s motherfucking aliens. Your Uncle Randy would be so proud. Or: two losers cheat, stab, and flirt their way to a win.

Turns out, it’s not heart disease that gets you. Not a car crash, the second coming, or even a plain old slip in the shower that removes you from this mortal coil.

It’s motherfucking aliens.

Your Uncle Randy would be so proud.

You wake to heat and smoke. The acrid taste clings to your tongue, and grit crunches between your teeth. Your first thought: the Big One finally happened; your apartment has collapsed in the earthquake and you’re stuck in the rubble. You were in bed. That might have saved you from being completely crushed?

Only you’re not on your bed, anymore. Nor are you on a pile of splintered wood and concrete. The floor is cool and disgusting, in a kind of spongy way. You can tell this rather intimately, as you’re naked.

Then the smoke clears, and you’re not in a debris pile. Because there’s a squid-face motherfucker grabbing at you. The ancient, primate part of your brain that remembers loping along tree branches and eating bugs takes one look at that thing, and it starts shrieking.

And that’s when you realize you’re not on something, you’re in something and it’s a goddamn cage and you flail around, buck-ass nude, as Squidward lifts something squirming towards you.

“Fucknofuckthis!” you say, in a long, one-word primate screech.

Squidward jerks its hand and your head slams the back of your cage. Things go a little fuzzy.

More smoke billows into the room, and your cage shudders around you. Squidward is moving fast and frantic. It gives the smoke a hateful glare like the smoke insulted it.

You can’t move. Can’t even blink. Can only pant and wheeze and shriek as it all but smashes what you think is a worm onto your fucking eyeball.

Pain digs in. The little fucker writhes, chewing, flattening itself around your eye. The pain blinds you.

The next time you wake, it’s to the feel of empty space. You cartwheel once. Hit the ground. Pain blasts through your left hip and knocks your breath out. You lie there for a second, lungs spasming and trying to inhale, and it’s like sucking air through a coffee straw.

The floor has the same, unpleasant squishiness. It makes you think of congealed slime, like bare toes sinking into cold cat vomit, and you finally recover enough to gag.

You’re in the same room, you think. You’re not sure. It’s moderately on fire, hazed in rancid smoke that smells like the worst crossover of burning rubber and scorched slugs. You force yourself up—your bad knee miraculously not popping like the hateful bitch it is—and find yourself alone. Except for dead Squidward.

***

The ship is large. A lot of it is made of cat vomit floor, and the doors are people-sized buttholes. You find a room which sets off your “xenomorph from Aliens” phobia. And inside, you find the intact body. It’s another human, a large man dressed up in some kind of SCA reenactor’s clothes. They’re not crusted in blood or anything else, and it’s way better than running around with your tits flapping. After a struggle that leaves your out-of-shape ass flushed and panting, you slip on an off-beige tunic. It comes down to mid thigh.

So now you’re in a large, on fire alien butthole ship, still defenseless and alone, dressed like medieval Winnie-the-poo. It’s an improvement.

***

You find an H.R. Giger box. You almost don’t open it. But your white women ancestors reach out through you, and your hands are fiddling with the thing before you can think, “Hold on.” Inside is some weird shit: a slug in a jar, a funny rock, and—is that gold? What the fuck? There’s also a little voice whispering in your mind, that you follow over to some slack-jawed dude strapped to a chair. And you know it’s not his voice because 1. it echoes in your skull and 2. the back of his skull is gone, leaving exposed brain.

Your primate brain is having none of that. You end up reflexively slapping the thing when the creepy voice speaks again. You don’t mean to? You probably don’t mean to. You’re high as a kite on adrenaline and shock, and your hand just kind of does the thing. Oops.

“Getting the fuck out of here,” you say to the actually this time dead guy.

You haven’t seen any other aliens. Might be because the whole “on fire” part. Something bad is happening, and a very loud part of you insists you better find somewhere to hide. But an even louder part rages at this entire situation, and it would really like you to find a gun or space laser or a goddamn butter knife please.

Things do not improve in the next room. The far wall is gone. It’s not the vacuum of space that tugs your short hair. Your nose doesn’t fill with what one astronaut described as the “burning metal” smell of low earth orbit. What hits your nose is sulfur and smoke. The outside holds no stars. It’s orange and hazy, with weird, shifting dark slashes. And it’s filled with demons.

The butthole ship is in hell. Actual, literal hell.

Your Aunt Patty May would be so self-righteous right now, the stupid bitch. You really did die and go to hell.

You take a couple of steps and catch yourself on the slimy edge of a wall. You manage not to fall onto your knees.

The ship zooms along what looks like a twisted, red ground swarming with ants. A rush and—is that a dragon—swoops past the hole.

Aliens, you can deal with.

Hell, you can be bitter about.

But dragons? You’re not on anything. None of your medications cause hallucinations. There’s no explanation  for this 80’s metal album fever dream. Your brain has just about had it, and fuck if it’s not reaching for the shutdown switch.

Which is when a lizard woman vaults and flips over your head. She lands and twirls, and points a sword at your face. She’s green. She’s in metal armor. She opens her mouth and snarls something at you.

And you…you have no idea what she’s saying.

Index - Next Chapter

[florenceisfalling]

Lego

at some point in my youth or something i obtained a lego tupperware for sandwich-holding purposes. i straight up cant even find a picture of the exact one online. its just a sandwich tupperware but with a lid that looks like a lego. its yellow and clear. it holds a sandwich effectively. a lot of my school lunches were in that specific tupperware. i was not cool enough to be a lego kid and i have no idea why i have it.

not to throw a curveball in the story, but i collect dead bugs. moths especially, and my best find was a polyphemus moth on the porch one day. my mom and i both got so excited over it, but i needed to stay outside longer so i just put said moth gently on a potted plant and planned to grab it before i went back inside. i forgot it, sadly, and by the time my mom remembered and went out to see if it was still okay, it had become significantly more crumbled. my mom promised me that if she ever found another polyphemus moth intact, she would keep it for me. i still have the crumbled one. i don't keep my bugs very well preserved, sadly; i need to change this, genuinely.

another, far more jarring curveball: my mom died a bit over a year ago. she was sick, but it was still unexpected. dad drove her to the hospital after i helped her into the truck. for a few minutes, i did watch her stop breathing and go unresponsive before we were able to wake her back up, and this gave me a really awful scare. she seemed to be doing better by the time dad drove off, but i was so panicked i burst into tears immediately and called my fiancee. i paced around the house and outside, walking in circles around the perimeter of the yard, rambling to her. and about the same time my mom died in the truck, or a little while before, i walked out to the back porch and saw a perfectly intact polyphemus moth sitting on the ground right in front of the chair my mom would always sit in on the porch.

my brother had dreams on his way to the hospital about her in the back yard too. it was her last gift to me, i think.

like i said, i'm bad at preserving bugs. sadly, her last gift to me has since lost its antennae and taken a little damage, i do intend to get it better preserved someday, probably by someone who can actually do it more professionally. for now i've got a painting of it.

but i did need somewhere to put it when i found it, and the first container i found in my house was that lego sandwich box. that moth is still very carefully packed between paper towels in a stupid plastic sandwich box. it does keep it pretty safe, actually, its a good size.

every time we get a fire drill on campus, they tell you not to grab anything. however, i would rather be dead than alive and lacking some of my most important belongings, so i always grab my backpack with my laptop - its nearly always two inches away from me anyway, my computer is like a vital organ to me - as well as my mom's bible, and that polyphemus moth. its always tucked safe in its container rather than on display, which is great when you're trying to exit a potentially burning building.

this does, however, have the admittedly funny side effect of having someone laugh ask me why i brought a neatly packed sandwich during an emergency every single fire drill.

[fangsandsoftgrass]

Headcanons 2 electric boogaloo: gifts edition

Cirwedh is like a weird pet that brings back shit you don't know where she got it from. A pair of nice socks she found " just laying there", dead (and alive) bugs she thought were cool or pretty or so interestingly weird, rocks, dead animals (to eat ofc!) and so on. You can expect anything from clothes she "found" or made, to a literal jar of dirt and rocks. If she REALLY likes you you'll get her favorite Jagga (brewed in Silvenar). If she gives you Jagga consider yourself very blessed LOL

On the other hand, Fennorian is very picky when it comes to things he gives others. He often over thinks it and just decides to stick with what he knows, books and brews. Like the salve for Cirwedhs scar, or a tonic for Sai's beard after hearing Lyris complain about it being itchy. He's also gifted Cirwedh a collection of dried and prepared herbs she can use in cooking or poison making, since she doesn't forage plants herself. Sometimes it's simple jewelry he saw in a window and had Gwendis buy with his money (he's still nervous around the general public), or books he finds interesting.

[winterrose42]

They read your smiles, nothing but teeth. They look at you with pity first then disbelief.

Oooooh looping looping looping this song makes the brain go brr i wanna stalk towards my enemies with a bat to this song.

Also cpeaning and rearranging and as an autistic maximilist im realizing the goal eith my room is when someone is ever over i just want them to be able to roam around like in a museum display and ponder over existence. Ask me why i have so many rocks and sticks sure you can dump out my button jar i have cool shit in there yeah that skulls meant to be in an aquarium sometimes i stick my fingers through the eye holes like stalks and amuse my cat with it.

When im dead i want to be studied like a bug from just my room items and see what people can get from it was shiny and i had money so i grabbed it or it was shiny so i picked it up from the ground and it became mine bc i said so. If i fill my space enough theres no room for The Dread